#please don't kill your asshole Light. it's not a good idea

[captainhysunstuff]

Light loves his asshole.

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 5]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary:

Your ex tries to kill you and now your boss is throwing his hat in the ring too. Good thing Katsuki is here.

Songs: Pour it up by Rihanna Don't tell em by Jeremih feat. YG

As always this is a mature story so minors DO NOT INTERACT!!

TW: Abusive relationships and violence.

---------------Chapter 5: Same Assholes, New Beginnings--------------

Michael was actually the one who turned the stream off as you sat up again, yawning. That was close. You couldn't sleep in this room, even if it was cute. She helped you up and got you situated in your own room, the one that felt safer, even if it wasn't the most comfortable. The package from him was still in the trash, and you weren't sure if there was a police station open this late.

"That was close," Michael said, her tone a mix of concern and exhaustion. "You sure you want me to sleep in the bed with you?"

You nodded, the fear still clutching at your chest. "Yeah, that freaked me out more than I want to admit."

Michael shuddered as she put her bonnet on, settling into the bed beside you. "I told you we should've gone to the police earlier. What if that thing has a tracking device? I know some guys at the club that would love to do us a favor."

You shook your head quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved. "No, no, no, please. I don’t want anyone else dragged into this."

She sighed, bouncing into the bed to get comfortable. "You need more color in here. It looks like a minimalist beige mom spray-painted everything neutral."

You huffed some air before finally taking off that damn itchy wig. You shook out your real hair before grabbing the matching bonnet Michael had gotten you, sliding it on with a sense of relief. "Well, you try living with a creep who throws your stuff out and controls everything you wear and own. I should really burn those clothes."

Sliding under the sheets, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you. Michael joined you, leaving the night light on, knowing how much you hated the dark now. Ironically, that was part of his quirk—a dude with psycho strength who could shoot blasts of light from his hands. A flashy quirk, indeed. But when you acted up, he would shroud the entire place in darkness that felt so heavy you couldn’t do anything except curl up and cry. His apartment was so blindingly white that it made you sick constantly.

Yours, though... was a little different. Thanks to quirk marriages, you had two quirks. Much like the pro hero Shoto, you could wield both water and fire. If you were hydrated enough, you could even conjure ice. To think, you shared almost the same quirk as the #3 hero of Japan. 

It was so fucked up. 

You actually had an unused hero license sitting in your drawer. No, literally. That’s how the fucker found you—a small, emotionally vulnerable girl with a shitty home life in a student exchange program. You gave up your career before it even began because of "love," which was really just his small dick ego ruling you again. 

But the truth was, you didn’t think you had the stomach for it anyway. The injuries pros got made you sick, and the idea of your comrades—your friends—dying? God, you couldn’t do it. That’s how you ended up as a marketing manager, finding all the good shots of heroes to promote them to the next top whatever. Especially your main project: Kyoya, aka " Unyielding," hero known for his indomitable spirit and sportsmanship, who embodied the ideals of chivalry and justice. 

Fucking poser. 

Promoting someone like him felt like a way to stay connected to the hero world, even if you couldn’t be a part of it the way you once dreamed. 

What was all of that for, anyway? Who would want a Pro Hero who couldn’t even fight off her own boyfriend—her fiancé at that? Who stayed in a shitty relationship longer than she wanted to, just so she wouldn’t have to be alone or move back home to get her ass handed to her by her parents. Parents that kicked her out three months before graduation, when she needed them the most. It was a miracle you didn’t have any siblings to go back for; at least they didn’t have to suffer through the same hell.

A Pro Hero who has to strip and entertain weirdos on the internet for money because that same ex was blocking all her job opportunities. The same ex who, according to office gossip, had already moved his new girl into the old apartment and was letting her do whatever she wanted to erase every trace of you. 

The bed you slept in, the photos you hung up, the little decorations you picked out with so much care—gone. Replaced by her, some woman you never met, who probably didn’t even know your name. And that was the worst part, wasn’t it? Being erased like you never existed.

Yeah, some hero to look up to.

You lay there, the weight of it all pressing down on you like a boulder, making it hard to breathe. The room felt suffocating despite its size, the walls closing in as the thoughts spiraled deeper. The candle’s gentle flicker was the only source of warmth in the cold void you felt yourself slipping into. The soft glow that once felt comforting now mocked you, reminding you of what you could never truly be—a light in the dark. Instead, you were just another shadow, hiding behind a screen, pretending to be something you weren’t.

Michael shifted beside you, her presence a small comfort in the darkness. But even she couldn’t reach that part of you buried so deep, the part that still ached for something more, something you were beginning to doubt you’d ever have.

It was all just so fucking pointless.

You and Michael settled into the bed, the weight of the day finally lifting as you both let out matching sighs of exhaustion. She rolled onto her side to face you, her dark eyes soft and full of understanding.

“Goodnight,” she whispered, a tender smile playing on her lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you murmured back, reaching out to squeeze her hand gently. The warmth of her touch grounded you, even as the memories of the past threatened to pull you under.

You both said your little prayers, whispering words of gratitude for the small blessings you still held on to—each other, a roof over your heads, the strength to keep moving forward. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get you through the night.

As you lay in the dark, the familiar feeling of dread crept in, but you pushed it away, focusing on the steady rhythm of Michael’s breathing beside you. Eventually, sleep took you, but it wasn’t peaceful.

You dreamed of suffocating darkness, of hands that grabbed at you and a voice that whispered lies in your ear. You were trapped, no matter how much you struggled, unable to escape the cold grip that held you down. Then, suddenly, you woke with a start, your heart racing and your breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

It was 6 a.m., the room still cloaked in the early morning shadows. Michael was holding you, her arms wrapped protectively around you as if she had sensed your distress even in sleep. You took a shaky breath and snuggled back into her embrace, feeling her warmth seep into you. She didn’t say anything, and neither did you. There was no need for words; the silent comfort of her love was more than enough.

Her alarm went off shortly after, breaking the silence. Michael groaned softly, reluctantly pulling away from you to shut it off. She stretched, her muscles flexing as she prepared for her morning workout routine.

“You gonna be okay?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving her a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” She hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching yours as if looking for any sign of doubt, before finally getting up. “I’m heading to the gym. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

You both got ready in the quiet morning hours, the sounds of the city slowly waking up around you. The ritual was familiar, almost comforting in its routine. You dressed in your office clothes, something professional but with a touch of lipgloss—a little armor to help you face the day. Michael was ready in no time, dressed in her gym gear, hair tied back, and eyes focused. She was always so strong, so put together, and it made you feel a little stronger too.

The train ride was uneventful, the two of you sharing a comfortable silence as you stood side by side. The city rushed past in a blur, but you barely noticed, lost in your thoughts. When your stop came, Michael leaned over and kissed you on the cheek, a quick, reassuring peck that made you smile despite the nervous flutter in your stomach.

“Good luck,” she said, her voice warm.

“Thanks.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you stepped off the train. The office loomed ahead, and you squared your shoulders, determined to get through the day.

Today, you had a meeting with your boss, presenting a new marketing plan for Koi Fish. It was just another task, another hurdle to overcome, but it felt like a mountain. You could do this. You had to do this. With a final glance at the receding train, you turned and walked into the office, ready to face whatever the day would throw at you.

You step into the office, the sterile scent of coffee and paper filling the air as you walk down the hallway. The click of your heels on the tiled floor echoes with each step, but it’s the sudden hush that catches your attention. Eyes turn toward you—some wide with surprise, others narrowed in curiosity or judgment. It’s as if they didn’t expect you to show up today, or maybe any day.

You offer a polite nod to the receptionist, who quickly looks away, pretending to be busy with her screen. The quiet whispers and sideways glances follow you as you pass by your coworkers, their conversations halting mid-sentence. It’s a familiar feeling, but it doesn’t sting any less. You straighten your posture, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest, and keep your eyes forward.

At your desk, you set down your bag and pull out the notes for your presentation. The marketing plan for  ‘Koi-fish’ sits at the top of the stack, the bright, serene colors a stark contrast to the tense energy around you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the task ahead. But the weight of the stares and the unspoken questions hang over you like a cloud.

A colleague, who usually avoids eye contact, suddenly looks at you with a mixture of pity and confusion. "I didn’t think you’d actually be here today," he says, his voice low as if trying not to be overheard.

You offer a small, strained smile. "Why wouldn’t I be? Got a job to do, right?"

He nods slowly, but his gaze lingers a moment too long before he turns away. You can feel the judgment in the air, the silent questioning of how someone like you, with your history, could still manage to show up, put on a brave face, and keep going. 

The pressure in your chest tightens, but you push it aside. Today isn’t about them or what they think. It’s about getting through this presentation and proving to yourself that you can still do this. 

You glance at the clock on your computer screen. Just a little while longer until the meeting. You can handle this, just like you’ve handled everything else. One step at a time.

You scan your badge and make your way to the top floor, the familiar hum of the elevator a small comfort as you brace yourself for the day. The doors slide open, and you're immediately greeted by the sight of your mentees, their faces lighting up as they spot you.

"You're here!" one of them exclaims, rushing over to hug you.

You laugh, returning the embrace. "Of course I am. Now, let's get to work, soldiers."

They fall in line with exaggerated seriousness, but the warmth in their eyes is unmistakable. You take a moment to savor the connection before heading to the conference room.

Inside, you find your boss, Mr. Yakimoto, Kyoya's manager, and his assistant, Mia. She looks relieved to see you, though her frazzled expression suggests a stressful morning. The last figure in the room is a girl with a sharp, confident presence—another hero, no doubt. Her posture is rigid, her eyes tracking your every move.

"Good morning," Mr. Yakimoto says, gesturing to an empty seat. "Please, take a seat, and we'll get started."

You nod, moving to the chair, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on you as you settle in.

The discussion quickly turned to recent popularity polls and media outlets. Mr. Yakimoto highlighted the positive trends, noting how Kyoya's recent public appearances had garnered significant attention. Kyoya's manager chimed in, mentioning the upcoming announcement from the Hero Commission about the newest top heroes. The excitement in the room was palpable as they discussed the magazine interviews being set up and how the makeup crew was already booked for the shoot.

You let your mentees take the reins, presenting the finer details of the new marketing strategy you'd been working on for Kyoya. They were confident, well-prepared, and delivered their points with a professionalism that made you proud. But as they spoke, you couldn't help but notice Kyoya's gaze. He was staring at you— intently —to the point where it felt like he was trying to drill holes into your skull with his eyes.

At first, you tried to ignore it, focusing instead on your team’s presentation. But his unwavering attention began to make you uncomfortable. You saw him nudge his manager, but the gesture went unnoticed, leaving him to continue his silent, intense observation.

It wasn’t long before others started to pick up on it. Mia glanced at you with concern, and even Mr. Yakimoto paused mid-discussion, his eyes flicking between you and Kyoya as if trying to decipher what was going on. The tension in the room thickened, and your resolve to ignore him faltered for just a moment as you locked eyes with him.

What was he trying to convey? And why did it feel like everyone else was just as confused as you were?

The tension in the room was palpable, growing thicker with each passing second of Kyoya’s unyielding stare. You could sense the confusion spreading among your team and the others present, and it wasn’t long before someone finally broke the silence.

"Um, why is—" a voice chimed in, cutting through the room’s awkward energy. It was her —the girl he left you for. Her name was Sayuri Minami, also known by her hero name, Gleaming Siren . She had an aura that commanded attention, much like Minerva Orland from Fairy Tail . Sayuri was tall and slender, her curves accentuated by her hero costume, which hugged her figure in all the right places. Her long, wavy hair was a striking shade of midnight blue, cascading down her back, and her eyes were a bright, almost unnatural shade of gold. Her presence was as alluring as it was intimidating, her beauty undeniable but her personality... not so much.

She interrupted one of your mentees mid-sentence, her voice carrying a slight edge of disdain. You quickly jumped in, your protective instincts kicking in to shield your mentee from her venom.

"Excuse me, but I believe they were speaking," you said, keeping your tone firm yet professional. The room fell silent as Sayuri’s golden eyes narrowed at you, her lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Oh, I’m sorry," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just thought maybe we should focus on what’s actually important here."

Her comment was clearly aimed at belittling your mentee’s contribution, but you refused to rise to the bait. Instead, you maintained your composure, ignoring the slight. But Sayuri wasn’t finished. She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she continued to make little comments, her eyes flicking toward you with a calculated glint.

Finally, after a particularly pointed remark, you’d had enough. You turned to her, your expression calm but your eyes sharp. "Sayuri," you began, your voice cutting through the air with precision, "what exactly do you mean by that?"

The room went dead silent. Sayuri blinked, clearly caught off guard by your direct approach. For a moment, she seemed to struggle to find her words, her confidence wavering as all eyes turned to her. She let out a small cough, her poised demeanor slipping.

"I—uh, I just meant..." She faltered, her golden eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I think I need some water."

Without waiting for a response, Sayuri hastily excused herself, practically fleeing from the conference room. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving a tense silence in her wake.

You took a breath, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, and returned your attention to the presentation. Your mentees looked at you with a mixture of relief and admiration, clearly grateful for how you had handled the situation. Kyoya, on the other hand, was still staring at you, his gaze unreadable but intense.

It took all your self-control to ignore the feeling of vindication settling in your chest. The meeting wasn’t over yet, and there was still work to be done.

The meeting wrapped up with a final round of discussions, everyone contributing their last thoughts on the upcoming hero rankings, magazine interviews, and promotional strategies. You made sure to direct the conversation back to your mentees, giving them the space to shine and showcase their hard work. As the room began to clear, you offered each of them words of encouragement.

"You all did great today," you said warmly, pulling them into a small huddle. "Your presentations were clear, your points were solid, and you handled yourselves with professionalism. Just remember to keep refining those pitches and be ready for any follow-ups. I’m proud of you all."

Your mentees beamed at the praise, their earlier nervousness melting away. You gave them specific feedback, pointing out where they excelled and where they could improve. They nodded, soaking in every word, clearly eager to keep learning and growing.

As they dispersed, gathering their things and chatting excitedly amongst themselves, you were about to make your exit when Mr. Yakimoto’s voice called out to you.

“Ms, a word before you go.”

You turned back, already dreading what was to come. Your instincts told you that this wasn’t going to be good. With a steadying breath, you walked back into the conference room where Mr. Yakimoto waited, his expression grim. Kyoya’s manager, Ms. Hayashi, remained seated as well, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Please, sit,” Mr. Yakimoto said, motioning to a chair across from them.

You complied, sitting down with your back straight, your hands clasped in your lap. Your eyes flicked between the two of them, sensing the tension.

“We’ve been reviewing recent events, particularly the footage from that... incident at the charity event,” Mr. Yakimoto began, choosing his words carefully. “As you know, the security tapes and video footage of that evening have gone missing. Given the importance of that event and the subsequent fallout, this is a serious issue.”

You kept your expression neutral, even as your heart began to pound. This wasn’t just a meeting; this was an ambush.

“Ms. Hayashi,” he continued, nodding toward Kyoya’s manager, “has requested that you be removed from Kyoya’s team. However, Kyoya has been... unusually adamant about keeping you on board. This puts us in a difficult position.”

You remained silent, letting him finish.

“Because of these complications, and due to recent budget cuts,” Mr. Yakimoto said, his tone now more clipped, “we have no choice but to place you on a temporary suspension, effective immediately. During this suspension, you will not receive pay. Furthermore, if you are found to have had any involvement in the disappearance of those tapes, you will be terminated, and there could be legal repercussions.”

He gave you a look that was meant to be a warning, but it only fueled the fire in your chest. “Consider this a friendly warning,” he added, as if that softened the blow.

You stared at him, your face unreadable. The anger simmered beneath the surface, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your composure.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” you said calmly, standing up. The implication was clear—you were going to find a lawyer.

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the room, your strides purposeful. You kept your head high, refusing to let them see how rattled you were. As you approached the elevator, you pressed the button, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of them good.

The doors slid open, and you stepped inside, leaning against the cool metal wall as you let out a breath. Just as the doors were about to close, a hand shot out, stopping them. The doors reopened, and Kyoya stepped in, his expression unreadable.

“Hold up,” he said, his voice low.

Your heart rate spiked, and you instinctively prepared to defend yourself. It had been a long time since you used your quirk, but you were ready to blast his face with fire if it came to that. You weren’t about to let him beat you to death in an elevator.

He stood close, too close, and his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “Did you get my package?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

You shrugged, trying to gray rock your way out of this situation. “I get a lot of packages.”

His frustration grew with each attempt at conversation. He tried to needle you with small talk, but you kept your responses curt and uninterested. Finally, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a nasty whisper in your ear.

“You know, I’ve missed you. Missed the way you used to—”

You shoved him back, your hands sparking with the threat of fire. He took it in stride, a twisted smile curling his lips. “I always loved and hated this part of you.”

You wanted to spit on him but held back. You knew that if you assaulted him right now he would have you arrested so fast that it would make your head spin. The elevator doors finally opened, and you shoved him out with all your strength. As the doors close, your work phone dings. It’s a message from an unknown number: 

“You still got a sweet ass.”  

You screenshot it, making a mental note to report it to HR later. Now, you ran from the building, wishing you had your car, "Lemon," to take you home. Michael would be at her office job until five and then sleep until ten before getting ready for the club. You would be going too tonight and then doing your live stream afterward. You needed all the money you could get if you were being suspended or worse—fired.

Would it even be that bad at this point?

Just like two weeks ago, you ran all the way home, adrenaline pushing you as you bounded up the stairs two by two, unable to wait for the elevator. You burst through your apartment door and found the package in the trash. You'll clean the mess later; now you  change into your sneakers and before locking the door tight and racing to the nearest police station.

You sprint through the streets, your heart pounding in your chest, not from fear but from sheer adrenaline. The nearest police station is a 20-minute walk, but you cut that time in half, your legs pumping as though powered by some secret third quirk that only activates when your heart’s been shattered by an asshole. Whatever it is, you let it fuel you, pushing your feet faster until you reach the station.

You pause outside the doors, trying to catch your breath, fixing your flyaways and composing yourself. As you enter, a blast of cold air hits you, the AC a stark contrast to the heat of your run. You make your way to the receptionist's desk, ringing the little bell. A moment later, an officer with a dog head—likely a hybrid quirk—appears, his expression friendly yet professional.

"How may I help you, ma'am?" he asks, his voice calm and reassuring.

You offer a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady. "Hello, I hope I'm not interrupting, but I was wondering if I might have some assistance. You see, I recently broke up with my ex-fiancé, and he changed the locks on our old apartment while I was at work. Our previous landlord delivered this package to me, and... I’m not sure what's inside. Given our bad history, I thought it would be safer to open it here."

Just as the officer opens his mouth to respond, the doors burst open behind you. The room fills with a sudden rush of energy and noise as Pro Heroes Ground Zero, Red Riot, Deku, and Shoto burst in, dragging several apprehended villains behind them. The villains are a mess of bruises, cuffs, and defiance, clearly the result of a failed attempt at robbing a jewelry store in Tokyo.

Ground Zero—Bakugou—looks as fierce as ever, his usual scowl deepening when he catches sight of the villains. Red Riot stands beside him, his unbreakable form looking no worse for wear. Deku is talking rapidly to Shoto, who remains stoic, though there’s a hint of frost still clinging to his right side. The sight of them is both awe-inspiring and intimidating.

The officer's attention shifts momentarily to the heroes, but he quickly refocuses on you. "That sounds like a wise decision, ma'am. Let's take a look at that package in a safe area. Please follow me."

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden influx of hero energy in the room as the officer leads you to a more secure part of the station. As you walk past the heroes, you can’t help but glance over. Bakugou’s sharp eyes flicker in your direction for the briefest moment before he turns his attention back to the villains, barking orders at one of the officers.

The package feels heavier in your hands as you follow the officer, the anxiety of what might be inside creeping back. The sight of the heroes reminds you of how far you’ve come, and yet how close you still are to the past you’re trying so hard to escape.

As you follow the officer, the package in your hands starts to feel unnaturally warm. At first, you think it’s just the lingering heat from your sprint, but then it begins to burn, the temperature rising quickly. Panic flares in your chest, and you know you have to act fast.

Without thinking, you drop the package onto the floor. You scream, your voice cutting through the noise of the bustling police station.

"ICE IT!"

Shoto, who was mid-conversation with Deku, snaps his head toward you, his mismatched eyes narrowing in confusion. For a split second, he hesitates, unsure of the situation. But then he sees the package on the ground, its surface now glowing a dangerous red.

In an instant, his left side surges with cold, and a blast of ice shoots from his hand, engulfing the package in a thick layer of frost. The officer, realizing what’s happening, tries to rush around the protective glass, his eyes wide with alarm.

You don’t wait to see what happens next. You instinctively move backward, away from the package, when suddenly, you feel two large, hot hands wrap around your waist. They’re strong, pulling you backward with surprising speed and force. Your feet leave the ground as you’re yanked away from the imminent danger.

Just as you’re pulled clear, the package explodes with a deafening bang. The sound reverberates through the station, and shards of ice and debris scatter across the floor where the package once lay. The protective glass shakes from the force of the explosion, but thankfully, Shoto's ice had contained most of it, preventing any serious damage. The overhead sprinklers activate causing a downpour of water on you and the others present. 

But that’s not what’s on your mind right now. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize you’ve been pulled into someone’s embrace. You glance up and meet the fierce, determined gaze of Ground Zero. His hands are still wrapped around your waist, his body shielding you from the blast. His expression is a mix of frustration and relief as he looks down at you.

"You okay?" he grunts, his voice rough but not unkind.

You nod, still shaken but unharmed. "Y-Yeah, thanks..."

Before you can say more, Bakugou releases you, turning his attention back to the aftermath of the explosion. Shoto approaches the now ruined package, his eyes scanning the remnants, his breath still coming out in cold puffs. The other heroes and officers quickly move to secure the area, checking for any further dangers.

The officer who had been helping you earlier finally reaches your side, his face pale with concern. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "I’m fine, thanks to him," you say, glancing at Bakugou, who is now shouting orders to the pro's.

He catches your gaze for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to say, "Be more careful next time." Then he turns away, already moving on to the next crisis.

You can’t help but feel a mix of gratitude and embarrassment as you process what just happened. The memory of Bakugou’s hands around your waist lingers, along with the realization that your ex’s threat had just escalated to a whole new level.

The noise in the lobby only grows as more officers rush in, their uniforms a blur of navy blue as they move to take the villains into custody. Shoto and Deku follow the officers, their expressions grim as they keep a watchful eye on the apprehended criminals. The scene is chaotic, but everyone moves with practiced efficiency, ensuring that the situation remains under control.

Amidst the controlled chaos, Red Riot rushes over to you, his usual bright smile replaced with a look of deep concern. His red hair is slightly tousled from the recent scuffle, and his sharp, crimson eyes scan you from head to toe, checking for any signs of injury.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle despite the intensity of the situation. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his grip firm but careful, as if he’s afraid of hurting you.

You nod, still a bit shaken but grateful for his concern. "I’m fine, just a little rattled. Thanks to Ground Zero and Shoto, nothing worse happened."

Kirishima’s worried expression softens into a small, relieved smile. "Good, that’s good. You were really brave back there."

Before you can respond, the officer with the dog head—his name tag reads "Sergeant Inu"—steps forward, his demeanor calm but authoritative. "Ma'am, if you could follow me to the back, we need to collect a statement from you about what just happened."

You glance back at the scene in the lobby, now being secured by the heroes and officers, before nodding. "Of course," you reply, ready to cooperate. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins, but you know that giving a clear and accurate statement is crucial.

Sergeant Inu gestures for you to follow him, and you fall in step behind him as he leads you through a side door into a quieter, more private area of the station. As you walk, you can feel Kirishima’s eyes on you, his protective instincts still on high alert.

"Don’t worry," he says, giving you a thumbs-up as you turn to look at him. "You’re in good hands here."

You manage a small smile in return, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits.

Sergeant Inu leads you to a small, dimly lit room with a table and a few chairs. It’s quieter here, the noise from the lobby now a distant hum. He motions for you to take a seat, and you do so, trying to steady your breathing.

Once you’re settled, Sergeant Inu sits across from you, pulling out a notepad and pen. His eyes are kind but serious as he looks at you. "Alright, ma'am, let’s start from the beginning. Can you tell me everything that led up to the moment you came into the station?"

You take a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. "Yes, I can," you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. And so, you begin to recount the events of the day, from the unsettling package to the terrifying moments just before the explosion.

As you speak, the gravity of the situation starts to settle in. Your ex-fiancé had escalated his harassment to a dangerous level, and now it was clear that you couldn’t handle this alone. You would need the police, legal help, and possibly even the protection of heroes to navigate what was to come.

'Fuck me.'

You follow another officer through another series of winding hallways, finally arriving at a smaller, more private room. The walls are bare except for a few motivational posters, and a single table with two chairs sits in the center. The room feels like a stark contrast to the chaos of the lobby, with its quiet and clinical ambiance. A detective gestures for you to sit down, and you take a seat, your hands trembling slightly.

As you settle into the chair, the officer begins to prepare for the questioning. He sits across from you, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. “We need to get a full account of what happened today, ma’am. If you could start from the beginning…”

You nod, trying to steady your nerves. “I received a package from my old landlord. My ex-fiancé had the locks changed on our apartment, so I didn’t have access to it. The package was delivered to my new apartment, and I brought it here because I was concerned about its contents.”

The detective takes notes, nodding as you speak. “And why did you think it was necessary to bring it here?”

“I was worried about what might be inside,” you explain. “Given my history with my ex, I didn’t want to take any chances. He has a… history of controlling and abusive behavior.”

As you recount the events, Bakugou and Kirishima watch from behind the glass. Kirishima’s brow is furrowed in concern, while Bakugou’s gaze is locked onto you, his eyes narrowed in thought. He had requested you be brought to the back because something about this didn't sit right in his gut.

Meanwhile, Todoroki and Izuku enter the room, their expressions serious as they join the others.

“What happened?” Izuku asks, his concern evident.

“Apparently, the package was sent by her ex,” Kirishima explains to Todoroki and Izuku, who have just joined them. “She doesn't want to give his name, but she’s had a pretty rough time with him. He’s got a record of abuse.”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow, glancing back at you through the glass. “Is that why you’re so focused on her, Bakugou?”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on you. “Just… keep watching,” he mutters.

Inside the room, the officer continues his questioning. “Do you have any idea what was in the package? Why did it get so hot?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “But when I noticed it getting warmer, I asked for help. I didn’t want to risk it hurting someone or something.”

As you speak, the door to the room opens, and Red Riot—Kirishima—enters, looking more relaxed now that the immediate danger has passed. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Hey, just checking in. Are you sure you’re alright?” He slides you a cup of water and you take it gratefully. 

You nod, offering him a small smile in return. “I’m okay. Thanks for your help earlier.”

Red Riot glances at the officer, then back at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. If you need anything, just let me know.”

The detective continues with his questions, but your mind keeps drifting back to the earlier events. You can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu, particularly when Ground zero was pulling you back. You try to ignore it, focusing on answering the officer’s questions as clearly as you can.

Meanwhile, Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, and Izuku watch from behind the glass. Bakugou’s eyes are fixed on you, an intense look of recognition in his gaze. Kirishima continues explaining to Todoroki and Izuku, who are both listening intently.

There’s something about you that’s nagging at him, something that feels familiar. He watches as you sit down, your hands nervously fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You’re wearing a mini pencil skirt that hugs your curves, paired with a peachy button-down shirt. The sweater you had on earlier is gone, likely due to the water from the ice blast, and your hair is slightly damp, clinging to your face in soft tendrils. Even though you’ve clearly been through a lot, there’s an undeniable poise to you, an elegance that doesn’t waver even under pressure.

But it’s your eyes that keep pulling him in. There’s something about them—a mix of warmth and vulnerability—that stirs a memory deep within him. He’s sure he’s seen them before, met you somewhere before. The feeling gnaws at him, refusing to be ignored.

Izuku notices Bakugou’s intense focus and raises an eyebrow. “Kacchan, you okay?”

“I’m fine, nerd.” 

Your voice remains steady as you speak, but there’s an underlying tension, a fear that you’re trying hard to keep in check. You’re jiggling your leg under the table- probably from nerves. 

Wait.

Fuck he really needed to start sleeping again. He could have sworn he’s seen those legs before. Bakugou’s eyes narrow slightly as he watches you, his mind racing to connect the dots. There’s no way he’s going to let this go. 

As the questioning wraps up, the detective informs you that they’ll be taking measures to ensure your safety. They discuss options for protection and keeping you secure, given the potential threat from your ex. The room feels a little oppressive now, the weight of the situation still hangs heavily in the air.

But you don't want to give more details than you have to and he's getting frustrated. Just before you’re about to leave, the detective places a protective detail on you, ensuring that you won’t be left alone. You feel a sense of mixed angery and lingering anxiety as you prepare to head out. "I believe I did say no thank you."

Bakugou watches you leave the room, his expression unreadable. The memory of your eyes, the way you looked today, and the connection he feels but can’t quite place—it's all gnawing at him. 

And he was gonna get to the bottom of it. 

The detective looks taken aback as you decline the offer for protective help. “Are you sure you don’t want us to arrange something? It’s important to stay safe.”

You sigh, feeling the weight of your decision but knowing it’s the right one. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather just have a report made of today’s events. I don’t want any special treatment.”

The present officer’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why would you refuse protection? This is a serious situation.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “Because… I don’t have much evidence against my ex. And… well, he’s about to become a top 10 pro hero.”

The revelation hangs in the air, causing a ripple of shock among the officers and the pro heroes observing from behind the glass. The detective's eyes widen, clearly stunned. “He’s a pro hero?”

You nod, your expression a mixture of resignation and frustration. “Yeah. He’s got a high rank in the hero community. I’m worried that the law and the public won’t be on my side. They might think I’m just making things up or trying to bring him down.”

The shock on the detective's face is palpable, and he glances nervously at the pro heroes behind the glass. Kirishima, who had been standing quietly, looks even more concerned. He turns to Bakugou and the others, a look of disbelief on his face. “Unmanly.”

Izuku’s eyes widen, his concern evident. “That’s serious….”

Todoroki looks at you with a mix of sympathy and anguish as he remembers his own mother. “If he’s a pro hero, it’s even more important that we handle this carefully. We’ll have to contact Jiro and Momo to see what they can dig up.”

Bakugou’s gaze is still locked on you, his expression shifting from one of confusion to something darker. He’s clearly grappling with the gravity of your situation and the impact it has on how he views you.

The detective nods, his demeanor now more serious. “We’ll make sure your report is properly documented. It’s unfortunate that you’re in this situation, and we’ll do what we can to assist.”

As the officers begin to prepare the report, you thank them and leave the room, feeling the weight of the earlier confrontation and the new revelations. The pro heroes behind the glass continue to watch you with concern, each processing the news in their own way.

You exit the station, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. The thought of Kyoya trying to kill you has you in a daze and you realize that you should’ve asked for a business card at least or a ride home. The reality of your situation weighs on you, but there’s little time for reflection as you start running again. All but kicking the doors open, you change quickly into a fresh outfit, a look that blends professional and alluring, ready for the night at the strip club. The urgency of needing money for your uncertain future drives you, and you race out the door, determined to make the most of the evening ahead

As you make your way to the club, the world outside seems to blur into a mix of neon lights and distant chatter. The adrenaline from the day’s events still pulses through you, adding to the electric anticipation of the night. The stakes are high, but you’re ready to face whatever comes your way, fighting for your future with every step you take.

You burst into the club’s dressing room, the familiar hum of activity immediately subdued by your presence. The other dancers, already in their pre-show routine, turn in unison, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern as they see you. Micheal, her phone pressed to her ear, ends the call abruptly and hurries over.

“Where were you?” she demands, her voice tinged with worry. “I’ve been calling you for hours!”

She throws her hands up into the air before dropping them down onto her hips.

You sit down heavily, your body sinking into the plush couch as the other girls crowd around you. Their hugs are a comforting blanket against the storm of emotions raging inside you. You take a deep breath and start recounting the day’s chaotic events, your voice trembling but determined.

As you describe the unsettling encounter at the police station, some of the girls gasp in shock, their hands flying to their mouths. Others express their frustration more physically, punching and kicking the walls in frustration. Micheal, still holding your hands, looks at you with a fierce mix of concern and anger.

“Oh, fuck no!” Micheal exclaims. “You needed to report his ass!”

You shake your head, fighting back tears as the weight of the day presses down on you. “I literally can’t think of a worse way to get sold out as a sex worker while being unpaid and needing money for a lawyer when school is literally less than two weeks away!” You’re not angry, just overwhelmed, trying to keep the nausea and tears at bay.

You didn't feel up to performing tonight, you wanted to puke and to hide under your covers for a long time. There was an old burner phone with a google drive account that had pictures and videos of the abuse he put you through. It would show the dates of when things were taken and that was hidden inside a safe box in the bank. He didn't know about the phone, that was your best bet for some evidence.

Micheal was now your makeup with practiced ease and adjusting your wig until you look every bit the confident performer. You change into a lacey babydoll dress and silver heeled sandals, the outfit a mix of comfort and allure, better suited to help you feel at ease despite the circumstances.

Once you’re ready, Micheal gives you a supportive nod, her expression softening with a mixture of pride and concern. She offers her hand, and you grasp it firmly, drawing strength from her presence. The two of you head towards the stage, joined by Ruby, Pearl, Sapphire, and the other dancers who form a supportive circle around you.

You step onto the center floor with your troupe and the energy of the club envelops you.

Bakugou scanned the neon lit club, his sharp eyes catching every movement, every flicker of light from the scattered neon signs. The air was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol, sweat, and cheap perfume, making his nose wrinkle in distaste. His grip tightened around the glass of whisky as he took a slow, measured sip, the burn doing little to soothe the irritation gnawing at him.

He couldn't believe he was here. This wasn't his scene—too chaotic, too noisy, and filled with people he couldn't care less about. Yet, here he was, all because he couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that had taken root in his mind since the moment he woke up. His usual go-to corner was empty, devoid of your presence. It was unsettling.

A small part of him, the part he'd never admit to anyone, not even himself, had hoped you'd be here. That you'd be the girl from the station, even if that meant he'd have to confront whatever that meant for the both of you. But the more rational part of him, the one that kept him grounded, kept him from making impulsive decisions, was screaming at him to leave, to not get involved.

'What if she is?' The thought circled back, refusing to be silenced. He took another sip, savoring the warmth that spread through his chest, but it did little to quiet the tumultuous thoughts racing through his mind. 'What are you gonna do then? Drag her outta here and throw her in the back seat of the Ferrari?' He scoffed inwardly at the idea. He wasn't that kind of guy. He wouldn't force anything on anyone.

But he had to know.

He picked a seat at a center table, the perfect vantage point to observe without drawing too much attention to himself. Of course, that plan fell through the moment some idiot tried to claim the spot first.

"Hey man, I was sitting there—"

Katsuki didn’t bother with words, just turned his gaze, cold and sharp, on the guy. The idiot stiffened, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he faltered under Bakugou’s intense stare. “Never mind, it’s all good,” the guy mumbled, backing off with a hasty retreat.

Bakugou mused, his lips curling into a smirk for just a moment before his face returned to its usual scowl. He ignored the curious glances that flickered his way, dismissing them as irrelevant. He had one goal tonight—to find you, or to confirm that you weren’t here.

It took everything in him to remain calm, to not look like some obsessed stalker while his eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face among the crowd of strangers. 'Just a quick check,' he told himself, 'and then I’m outta here.' But even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

As the DJ’s voice crackles through the speakers, he announces the upcoming performance with a flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a show you won’t forget! Let’s hear it for Marshmallow and Baby Doll!”

His eyes narrow when he sees the spotlight shift to the main stage. The DJ’s announcement fades into the background as the lights focus on the two figures stepping into the limelight. The first is Micheal, with her confident stride and dazzling smile. The second, clad in a similar lacey dress you wore earlier, makes his heart skip a beat.

It’s you.

The pulsating lights of the club dance across the floor, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that wash over the crowd. The beat of Rihanna's "Pour it Up" thumped through the speakers, the bass vibrating through the floor. The crowd's energy was infectious, feeding into your every movement as you both began to sway to the rhythm.

You and Micheal glide onto the stage, both wearing outfits that shimmer under the lights. Your flowy dress swishes with every step, and Micheal’s ensemble colors complement yours, making you both look like a perfectly matched pair. The audience’s cheers rise as you prepare to start your routine.

Micheal took the lead, her movements fluid and powerful, as she set the tone for the performance. You followed her lead, letting the music guide you as your body moved effortlessly, your hips rolling in time with the beat. The audience was captivated, their eyes glued to the two of you as you danced in perfect harmony.

Micheal spun around the pole with a graceful ease, her leg wrapping around it as she arched her back, her hair cascading down like a waterfall. You watched her with admiration, your own body moving to the rhythm as you danced beside her. The crowd was going wild, their cheers growing louder with every move.

As the song's chorus hit, you felt a surge of confidence. For the first time, you approached the pole, your hand gripping it as you spun around, your body following in a fluid motion. The crowd roared in approval, their cheers filling the room as you lifted yourself up, your muscles flexing as you held your body in a perfect split. You could feel their eyes on you, their energy feeding into your own as you moved with a newfound strength and grace.

“Throw it up, throw it up (throw up)

 Watch it all fall out (fall out)

 Pour it up, pour it up (pour up)

 That's how we ball out (ball out)”

Rihanna's voice echoed through the room, and you sang along, your voice blending with hers as you twerked and whined to the beat. You could see the girls in the front row screaming for you, their faces lit up with excitement as they threw bills onto the stage. You smiled to yourself, feeling a rush of pride as you worked the crowd, your every move earning you more cheers and applause. 

Sad bitches love money after all. 

In the background, Bakugou had been sitting at a center table, his attention laser-focused on you. The moment he saw you step onto the stage, his heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He had come here to see if it was really you, and now that he had his answer, he was utterly mesmerized. When you performed the split and showed your strength on the pole, his breath caught in his throat.

 “Strippers goin' up and down that pole

   And I still got more money

   Four o'clock and we ain't going home

   'Cause I still got more money”

He stood up, pulling out three thick stacks of cash and placing them on the edge of the stage. The sight of the money caught your eye, and you slowed your spin on the pole, locking eyes with him. The connection was electric, a silent understanding passing between you as you decided to give him a show he wouldn’t forget.

With feline grace, you crawled across the stage towards him, your body moving with a sensual rhythm that had the crowd on the edge of their seats. The noise of the room faded into the background as you reached out, your fingers brushing against Bakugou’s cheek. His eyes darkened with intensity as you leaned in closer, your nails gently scratching under his chin, like you were petting a kitten.

 “The look in your eyes, I know you want some”

He leaned into your touch, his breath hitching as you ran your hand down his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. You could feel the tension between you, a spark igniting as you pressed your palm against his chest, holding his gaze. Then, with a smirk, you pushed him back down into his seat, the unexpected move catching him off guard.

 “Money on my mind

   Money, money on my mind

   Throw it, throw it up

   Watch it fall off from the sky,”

The crowd erupted in wild cheers, the noise crashing over you like a wave as you stood up, your eyes still locked on Bakugou. He sat there, trying to hide the flush creeping up his neck, not from embarrassment but from the sheer thrill of the unexpected. You had just turned the tables on him, and the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t sure how to react. 

He didn’t give a shit you did that in front of the crowd, he just hadn’t expected it to feel so good . 

“Who cares how you haters feel

  And I still got more money

  My fragrance on and they love my smell

   I still got more money

   So who cares about what I spend,”

As you continued to dance, the crowd’s energy surged, and you knew that tonight, you had owned the stage in a way you never had before. Bakugou’s gaze never left you, his mind racing as he tried to reconcile the woman on stage with the girl he once knew.

“I still got more money

  My pocket's deep, and they never end

   I still got more money

   I'm going dumb with all my friends,”

As the final beats of "Pour It Up" reverberated through the club, you and Micheal finished your routine with a flourish, your bodies perfectly in sync as the crowd roared in approval. The lights dimmed for a moment, giving you a brief respite from the intense spotlight.

Bakugou, who had been watching you intently, leaned back in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He flicked more bills onto the stage, one after another, until the DJ couldn’t ignore it any longer. 

“Shoutout to that blond dude over there that looks pissed off! I saw those 3 racks!”

The DJ announced over the speakers, drawing more attention to Bakugou. Almost instantly, the other dancers swarmed him, eager to thank their generous patron.

Bakugou’s expression shifted to one of mild annoyance as he found himself surrounded by the other girls. “Oh, fuck no,” he muttered under his breath, trying to maintain his composure as they fawned over him. But despite the situation, he kept an eye on you, watching as you were swept up in a whirlwind of affection from your friends.

Micheal and Mugumi hugged you tightly, their excitement infectious as they squealed and jumped up and down with you still in their arms. Little Ruby was kissing your cheeks, her tiny hands cupping your face as she showered you with praise. You felt a wave of warmth and happiness wash over you, a sense of belonging that you hadn’t felt in years. These women weren’t just colleagues; they were your support group, your friends, and the realization made your heart swell with gratitude.

As more of the businessmen around the club noticed the affection being shown to you, they began throwing more money onto the stage, eager to join in the celebration. Pearl—Casey—looked at them with thinly veiled disgust, her nose wrinkling as she observed their behavior. But before she could say anything, Sapphire gently hushed her, flashing a charming smile as she began to flirt with them, expertly keeping the mood light and playful.

The businessmen, already tipsy and loosened up by the atmosphere, made a request for another performance. The idea was met with enthusiastic cheers from the crowd, and you could feel the buzz of excitement in the air.

But first, you needed to clean up. You and the girls quickly gathered all the money scattered across the stage, stuffing the bills into your arms and purses before hurrying to the back. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins, your mind racing as you headed to the dressing room.

Once inside, you moved with a sense of urgency, something gnawing at the back of your mind. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You dumped everything from your work bag—a simple duffle—into one of the filing cabinets and locked it. Then, you stuffed the duffle full of the money, every last bill, before quickly hiding the bag in the ceiling tiles, pressing it into the narrow space with a surge of paranoia.

You took a step back, your heart pounding as you stared up at the hidden duffle bag. Something didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Brushing off the unease, you forced yourself to focus, knowing that you still had a job to do. With the money safely stashed away, you could finally allow yourself to breathe, if only for a moment.

The noise from the club was muffled, but you could still hear the cheers and the music, the vibrations thrumming through the walls. You straightened up, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. The next performance was just around the corner, and the crowd was hungry for more.

The girls exchanged glances, concern flashing in their eyes as they caught on to your unease. Micheal leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper, “You know there’s no way the manager and bouncers won’t take a cut of that money otherwise, right?” Her words were a stark reminder of how things worked around here, and you could see the others nodding in agreement, their expressions growing grim as they remembered the last time something like this had happened.

“Fuck it, I'll quit tonight if that fat bastard thinks he's getting his hands on my money!” Sapphire declares with fierce determination. The room went silent, everyone turning to look at her in shock. Micheal, however, just smirked, giving her an approving nod.

“Nice to see you again, Eraza. Been a hot minute,” Micheal remarks. Sapphire—Eraza—smiles and rolls her eyes.

Ruby, ever the firecracker, jumped up and adjusted her bikini top with a huff. “Yeah, if they touch our money again, we quit and go to that club for pro heroes!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with the same defiant energy. The mention of pro heroes caught your attention, your mind flashing back to the scene at the police station earlier. You shook the thought off, focusing on the task at hand.

Determined, you switched into a two-piece set with a flowy skirt, the fabric fluttering around your thighs as you moved. You slipped a garter belt onto your left leg, the cool metal of the buckle pressing against your skin. A quick adjustment of your lipstick, and you were ready. “Then let’s milk them for all they’ve got,” you said, your voice steady, though there was a manic edge to your smile.

Micheal looked at you, her surprise evident. Concern flickered in her eyes, but she matched your smile with one of her own, albeit more tempered. “We go big or go home,” you added, and the others nodded in agreement, the tension in the room shifting into a shared resolve.

“Thank God, you don’t drink or do drugs,” Micheal murmured, her relief palpable. You giggled, the sound light and airy as you shook off the last of your nerves. 

After all, this was your moment, and nothing was going to ruin it. Not tonight. But as you stepped out of the dressing room, a chill ran down your spine, a sense of foreboding settling in your gut. You shook it off, knowing you had to keep your head in the game. Together, you all made your way back to the main stage, the energy between you electric.

The DJ whispered something to Micheal as you all took your places, the lights dimming around you. The atmosphere in the club was charged, anticipation hanging thick in the air. You could see your ash-blond regular still fending off the other women (and some men) who had latched onto him. They squealed and fawned over him, their voices rising in pitch as they practically screamed  obscene things, hoping to catch his attention. The dude looked like he was seconds away from blowing up the entire club, his patience worn thin, but the bouncers weren’t in any rush to step in and stop it.

The spotlight swung over to you and the girls, the crowd’s attention snapping back to the stage as the music began to pulse through the speakers. The DJ’s voice boomed over the microphone, announcing your return, and the crowd erupted in cheers. You could feel the eyes on you, the hunger, the anticipation. It was time to give them a show they’d never forget.

The beat of "Don't Tell 'Em" by Jeremih starts to pulse through the club, the sultry rhythm reverberating in your chest as you and the girls move to the music. 

“‘Rhythm is a dancer, I need a companion

   Girl, I guess that must be you

  Body like the summer, fuckin' like no other

   Don't you tell 'em what we do,” 

The stage lights flash, casting you all in a glow that enhances the sensuality of the dance. You and Micheal move in sync, your bodies swaying to the seductive beat as you act out the lyrics with every dip and roll of your hips.

As you dance, you catch sight of the manager emerging from his office, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth, the smoke curling lazily around his head. He surveys the room with a calculating eye, pausing as he notices the commotion at your regular’s table. His gaze shifts, locking onto you and the girls on stage, and then he gestures sharply towards the back, his intention clear. Panic flares in your chest, and you turn to flip your hair, a feigned act of confidence that’s really just an excuse to share a quick, panicked glance with the others.

You notice two of the bouncers beginning to move towards your mysterious regular and the last thing you want is for him to get caught up in some unnecessary trouble. You know how these things go: a misunderstanding, a few harsh words, and then it’s fists flying. And while his scars say he doesn’t seem like the type to shy away from a fight, you can’t bear the thought of him getting beat up for just enjoying a performance.

With a decision made in a split second, you glide off the stage and slip onto his table, moving with the grace and ease that you’ve perfected over the month. The flashing lights create an almost ethereal halo around your head as you approach, making Bakugou blink twice, his sharp eyes momentarily softened by the surreal effect. For a second, he thinks he’s seeing things—something divine in the way you move, the way the lights play tricks with the shadows around you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your cool hands pressing against the warmth of his skin, and you can almost feel the tension in him, the way his muscles coil tight under your touch. But instead of reacting violently, he gently places his arms around your waist, his hands resting on his elbows as if he’s hesitant to touch you too intimately, unsure if you want to be touched at all. The contrast between his careful, almost protective hold and the raw energy he radiates is striking, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Only is you got me feeling like this

 Oh, why, why, why, why, why

 Loving while grabbing the rhythm of your hips

 That's right, right, right, right, right,”

Bakugou’s heart is pounding, so hard he’s convinced it might explode again in his chest. It’s a sensation you make him feel often, this uncontrollable rush of something he can’t quite name—something close to panic, but sweeter, almost intoxicating. As he takes in the details of your appearance—the smooth curve of your waist, the way your hair falls just so—he’s hit with a wave of recognition. The way you hold yourself, the slight tremble in your legs, it all clicks into place. The same eyes he saw at the police station, the same waist he pulled away from that burning package, the same leg you lotioned the night before.

But your hair—it’s different. As you move closer, he realizes the truth. It’s a wig. The realization is oddly grounding for him, a piece of a puzzle finally snapping into place.

A few of the other dancers start to murmur, their voices laced with jealousy and spite as they badmouth you for hogging the attention. But you don’t let go, and neither does he. You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear, your breath sending a shiver down his spine as you whisper, 

“Usual spot?” 

You tilt your head up slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of those familiar eyes.

Bakugou has to shift a bit to get a better look at you, his mind racing as he connects all the dots. There’s no mistaking it now—those eyes, that leg, that waist. It’s you. The same woman from the station, the same one who’s been lingering in the back of his mind ever since. And now you’re here, in his arms, and he can feel the weight of the moment settling over him like a heavy cloak.

He can’t help but smirk, though, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he realizes just how many coincidences have led to this exact moment. But his thoughts are cut short as you pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. You’re still wrapped around him, but there’s something almost tentative in the way you hold each other— two people who don’t quite belong to each other but can’t seem to let go.

As the song begins to wind down, you both remain locked in that moment, the world around you fading into the background. 

But then, a voice cuts through the air, shattering the bubble you’ve been in.

“Funny. Real fucking funny, baby doll.”

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 4 is here

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 18

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ graphic ⚠️murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, assault (not in detail), underage drinking,

Part 1

"Shit!" You cursed as Stu helped you out of the car. Billy turned towards you shutting his door with a slam. "What happened?" Both boys looked at you concern lacing their features. "I didn't make dinner tonight." You could live without cooking dinner. Some nights when you were alone you'd just snack around not in the mood to start cooking anything. You had got into a routine of cooking for them though. Making sure they ate a good meal was commonplace. Stu had noticed you hadn't cooked but it didn't bother him. Parties always had snacks, at least they did when he threw them.

"You don't need to cook dinner every night," Billy reassured you. He loved your cooking but one night without it wouldn't kill anybody.

Stu threw his arm over your shoulder. "Yeah, plus I'll tell you what, tomorrow when we're hungover we can go on a little grocery shopping date!" Stu pulled you close to him poking your sides. You laughed still feeling a little bad. Billy looked at the ground. Going out in public grocery shopping like some nuclear family didn't sound like a good idea.

"Let's go assholes." Billy put on a fake smile looking at you and Stu. You nodded running up to grab Billy's hand. Like clockwork, his eyes darted around the makeshift parking lot for anyone staring. He shook your hand away. "Sorry." He said looking towards the ground. "It's okay." You whispered. Stu held your hand giving you what Billy couldn't. It wasn't done to upset Billy, part of him knew that. Stu loved to show you off. You always did look amazing hanging on his arm. Billy wasn't able to do that, carry you around like some trophy. Physical affection was always going to be a behind-closed-doors activity.

You could hear the music before you even walked into the house. Stu hit the doorbell more times than he should've. "I'll get it!" Chase called before he pulled open the door. Billy watched Chase knowing you would attract attention with the way you were dressed up. The blonde-headed boy looked Billy up and down from head to toe. Even with a mask, Stu knew that look anywhere. You looked at Stu making sure your friend saw the same thing you were.

"You guys look awesome!" Chase finally looked over at you and Stu after he gave the compliment. "You're a maid?" He asked making Stu giggle. "She's Magenta from Rocky Horror I'm surprised you haven't seen it." Stu said making you nudge his shoulder. "Your costume is cool. You're..." The sentence trailed off while you tried to figure out who he was. Chase was covered in leather and buckles. That outfit paired with his blonde hair left you with no idea of who he was supposed to be.

"I'm Michael Jackson." He said proceeding to do some dance moves. "Looks, great man. You've got the skin tone for it." Stu patted Chase's shoulder before walking into the house. You sent him a sympathetic glance trying to hold back a laugh. "Thanks for inviting us." Chase smiled at you. "Of course. Beers are in the kitchen." He told you making Stu's face light up. All three of you wandered around finding the nearest couch to sit on. "I'm going to get some beers you want any?" You shook your head while Billy nodded wanting one. "I'll be right back," Stu said dramatically before disappearing into a different part of the house.

"You having fun yet?" Billy leaned down so you could hear him. "We just got here give it a chance, please." You wanted this to work. Maybe have a non-criminal memory with your lovers. "Fine but if they keep playing this shit I might kill someone." New Kids On The Block was not on Billy's playlist. You looked around the room trying to find where the music was coming from. Sure enough, Linda was messing with the sound system. "Linda's playing music."

Billy leaned his head back regretting his decisions. You took a moment to watch the girls in the corner point and giggle at Billy. He was attracting more attention than you were. "I think you confused Chase earlier." You joked. Billy sat up turning his body to face you. "It's the face paint isn't it?" It wasn't just the face paint it was the whole ensemble. "Maybe. It might also be the pants." You moved in closer letting your lips rest near his ear. "Your ass looks great in them by the way." He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat trying to think of anything horrible to keep himself calm. "Don't." He simply spoke, fearful of what people would think.

You huffed out a breath giving up on the man beside you. It was hard trying to make Billy comfortable. He was one of the most stubborn people you'd ever met. Getting him to let loose was a full-time job one that you weren't good at. Stu came back with two beers and another bottle of alcohol. "One beer for you and a fruity drink for the lady." He handed you the colorful bottle and then passed the brown glass over to Billy. "It's Mad Dog," Stu explained as you read the label on the bottle. "Are you trying to kill her?" Billy asked seeing the familiar bottle. "She'll be fine she's a big girl,"

"I know you don't drink but I didn't want you to feel left out." Stu sat down next to you laying his arm across the back of the couch. "Thanks." You sent him a soft smile. Stu lifted his mask to kiss you but you backed away. "Not here." You didn't mean to be rude but for weeks you've been keeping up the narrative that all three of you are just friends. His lips tightened into a straight line. "Right." And just like that you acted as Billy did a moment ago.

You unscrewed the cap on your bottle taking a decent swig of it. Both men watched waiting to see your reaction. Your nose crinkled with disgust. "Honestly it's not that bad." They both laughed at your words. "Tell that to your face." Stu drank his beer wondering how the night would go.

He thought this was a good idea. Drunk kids with loud music was the perfect place for all three of you to go crazy. It's not like anyone would remember it tomorrow. Even if they did so what? It wasn't illegal to have a boyfriend and a girlfriend. Well maybe having a boyfriend was illegal in some places but luckily he lived in California.

Teenagers continued filing into the house. By 9:30 it was almost too full to breathe. "That's it somebody has to dance with me." Stu stood up as some loud grunge song played through the speakers. "I'm guessing by somebody you mean me?" You asked the boy in the Michael Myers costume. "Well, I'm not asking him that's for sure." Stu pointed at Billy who flipped him off. You took another gulp of your half empty bottle feeling a lot more comfortable than when you first showed up. "Alright but don't expect anything fancy." Billy was aggravated by the fact you'd just get up and leave him. Considering the only reason he came along was for you and Stu.

The only good thing about sitting on the smoke-smelling couch was he had a perfect view of Stu and you both. It was comical. Billy found himself laughing as the two of you jumped up and down yelling lyrics at each other. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his partners dance and sing to the spice girls. It was almost 11 and neither of you had stopped dancing. You pointed over to Billy seeing him laugh at the scene you and Stu were causing. Even though he wouldn't participate it was still fun seeing he wasn't so miserable now.

Some songs were riskier than others. Billy watched you sway to the music as Stu held you as close as he could. Your hips shuffled rubbing up against your boyfriend. Billy wanted to blame it on the alcohol. Throughout your time at the party, he continuously reminded you to slow down. It just so happened you were as stubborn as he was.

You fell on the couch practically sitting on top of Billy. Stu continued to dance and bother other kids around him. "You okay?" He asked trying to scoot you off of him. "My arms are numb." Your body was warmer than it normally was. "I told you not to drink so much." Your legs were spread giving anyone in front of you a free show. "Jesus fucking..." Billy leaned forward pulling your knees together, pointing them towards him.

"Where's my dance partner?" Stu's mask had disappeared now showing off his hair wet from sweat. "I'm right here I just needed to sit for a second." Billy stood up grabbing Stu's arm. "I told you not to let her drink so much." The short-haired boy looked over to you and then back at Billy. "She's fine! I can drink like two of those things."

Billy smacked his arm scolding his friend for his stupidity. "She hasn't eaten anything all day dipshit." Stu's lips formed an 'o' in realization. You slowly picked yourself off the couch. Sitting down was a bad idea. You were fine a second ago but now your choices hit you like a brick. "I've got to pee." You announced rather loudly. Stu grinned at you. "Bad idea. Once you break the seal you'll be pissing all night." Billy pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you need to use the bathroom-" Chase was dancing with his girlfriend when Billy saw him cutting his sentence short.

"Chase! Where's your bathroom?" After a few directions, Billy made note of the location. "You come with me and Stu go get some water." So much for no touching. Billy wrapped one arm around your waist helping you walk through the house. "I can walk you know?" You traced the duct tape on his arm as you spoke.

"Okay." His hand slipped away from your waist letting you lean against the wall. "Go ahead, walk." You carefully pushed yourself up straight just to slowly stumble once again hitting the wall. "Help..." You giggled. Billy although aggravated thought it was funny. He was sure he'd find it hilarious the next morning. "Oh, but you can walk." He mocked you before wrapping his arm around you once more. "Smartass." You smiled as you both walked to the restroom. Thankfully there wasn't a line, letting you go right in. "I can do this part by myself." Billy chuckled awkwardly. "I would hope so. I'll be out here alright?" You nodded as you shut the door.

"Are you in line?" A woman asked catching his attention. "Hmm? Oh, no I'm just waiting on my- I'm waiting on someone." He corrected himself moving away from the girl. She smiled stepping in front of him. Billy walked away from the bathroom making sure it stayed in his line of sight.

You finished your business feeling worse as you stood up. A small giggle left your lips while you struggled to pull up your underwear. The warm joyful feeling coursing through your veins was addicting. You didn't understand why Billy was so pessimistic. Water splashed in the sink as you washed your hands. Once your hands were dry you slowly opened the bathroom door. A woman quickly ran into the room shutting and locking the door behind her. Billy wasn't where you left him.

"Nice costume." A man remarked making you turn around a little too fast. "Woah there." He held out his hands stopping you from hitting the floor. "Hey, you're that chick that was in the massacre." You looked up at the familiar costume. The black robe and white mask was this year's hottest outfit. "That's me. Have you seen Billy?" The masked man helped you lean on the wall making sure his body covered your own. "They said you were almost gutted. You must have a badass scar." He ignored your question as he looked down at you with pity. Your arms felt like jelly as they pushed up against him. "Excuse me."

You were polite but you didn't understand why. His hands grabbed the hem of your dress dragging it up your leg. "I'm okay." You said quickly trying to move his hand. "I just want to see your scar." That warm fuzzy feeling you had earlier changed within seconds. You were terrified but unable to defend yourself. Your brain screamed for your body to move, to do anything but you stood there. "Where's Stu? Billy?" You asked again desperate for the man to stop.

Through glazed eyes you watched your attacker hit the ground. The cursing and screaming were garbled in your ears. There was blood, so much blood. Stu came running to your side pulling you into a hug. "Beat his fucking ass, Billy! Kill him!" Stu egged him on loving the blatant display of violence. Billy continued to lay into the man beneath him. He couldn't stop. "That's enough dude." Chase tried to pull Billy off but he just got hit in the process. "I'm calling the cops!" He shouted making underage drunk kids all flock to the exit. Stu laughed while you stared shocked at Billy. There wasn't anything behind his eyes but rage. You were going to be sick.

"Don't you ever fucking touch her again!" He screamed feeling the cartilage crack beneath his fists. Stu's encouraging shouting made your head spin. "The fucking cops are here!" Someone yelled as more people ran around to flee. You didn't move. Your fingers dug into Stu's arm scared he might leave you. "Billy, man get up." Stu tried to stop the fight but it did nothing.

The deputy knew the three of you were up to no good. He knew deep down something was going to happen. Dewey's jeep was parked just a block away from where the party was. It was unethical to follow you but it was his job as a deputy to protect the town of Woodsboro. The moment he heard and saw the kids running and screaming he jumped out of his car.

Any bypasser would've laughed at the limping cop. Dewey with his gun drawn tried his best to run into the party. "Freeze!" The man said pointing the gun directly at Billy's back. "Get off of him and put your hands where I can see them." Stu rolled his eyes at the goofy cop. "Put the gun away Dewey and help me."

Billy continued to hit the boy even after he stopped fighting back. With the help of the officer Stu pulled his friend off of the boy. "I'll fucking kill him!" He shouted. You slid down to the floor shaking from shock. "It's just some girl." Someone in the fading crowd said bewildered by the show. "That's my fucking girlfriend asshole I can knock your fucking teeth out too you bitch!" Stu kept a good hold on Billy. He thanked God that he was stronger than the enraged man. Dewey radioed an ambulance letting the incoming units know about the current situation. Your attacker was breathing just unconscious by the looks of him. The deputy pulled the handcuffs from his belt locking Billy's wrists together behind his back.

He pulled both Billy and Stu aside making Billy drop to his knees. "Neither of you move you understand me?" Both men nodded. Dewey walked over to you seeing how broken you looked. Your dress was hiked up and your makeup was smeared. Dewey pulled his jacket off carefully draping it over your frame. "It's okay." He reassured.

Your arms wrapped around him thankful he showed up. It was then you started crying. Sobbing was a better word. The fear you bottled up just minutes ago came out in the loud sobs.

More officers arrived putting Billy in the back of a police car. Stu begged them not to while Billy yelled for you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Dewey stayed by your side even after you threw up on his shoes. His hand rubbed circles on your back as you gagged over the grass on the front lawn. Chase and Linda were giving statements more scared of Chase's parents than jail.

"Are you alright?" Stu asked only getting stopped by the deputy. "She's fine." He said as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. "Stu?" You looked up seeing the worry on his face. The boy wrapped you in a hug disregarding Dewey. "I called for you and Billy, I- I told him I was alright. I didn't want this to happen." Your words were slurred with alcohol and panic. "How much did she drink?" Dewey asked as Stu patted your head. "Not enough to forget this shit." He joked earning silence from the officer. "Tough crowd," he spoke. "She had a bottle of Mad Dog that was it." Dewey pulled his hat off running his hand through his hair. "I haven't really drank before I'm sorry..." You started crying again, the alcohol making the cries extra whiney.

"Riley!" One of the cops yelled. "Just take care of her. Can you do that?" The sarcasm was heavy in Dewey's words. "Yes, I can do that." Stu mocked back like a child. Dewey limped over to the ambulance seeing the bloody kid was now awake. "His nose is completely shattered. That Loomis kid fucked his face up." The deputy rubbed his face. "Alright get his statement the best you can and take him to the hospital."

"I just want to go home." The boy said trying to fight off the EMTs. "What's your name son?" The kid seemed to think about it for a second. "Daniel Lawson." The other officer wrote down his last name on his notepad.

"Listen, Daniel, you've been drinking illegally and if what I know checks out then you also assaulted a young woman. Things are not looking good for you. Also, your face is really bad you should definitely get it checked out." Dewey's bad cop act could only last for so long.

The ambulance eventually rolled away heading to the nearest hospital. "I love you. I really do and I'm sorry for ruining everyone's night. I just wanted to be normal," You continued to cry and ramble into Stu's chest. "Y/n sweetheart?" Dewey said your name making you look up with puffy eyes. "I'm going to need to talk to Stu here for a moment alone. There's a really nice female officer over there that would love to talk to you." You wiped your tears understanding this was a serious situation. Dewey grabbed your hand helping you up from where you and Stu sat. The female cop walked over helping you walk to her car.

"Don't tell me I'm getting arrested 'cause I didn't do anything wrong," Stu spoke as Dewey took a seat next to him. "You're not being arrested. I just need you to tell me what the hell happened tonight."

Dewey wrote down details of Stu's story. "I didn't see that happen I just saw Billy run towards the guy. That's when Y/n grabbed me. She was terrified, man." Dewey shook his head. "Of who? The attacker or her boyfriend?" Stu didn't like the deputy's question. Billy could be and was violent, so was Stu to a degree. It was his idea to slit Casey from groin to sternum. He thought those past experiences made him qualified to determine who was right and who was wrong. "Boyfriend? And Billy beat the shit out of a rapist that's more than you assholes do every day." Stu snapped defending his friend.

"I understand you're upset." It was a sentence constantly taught to the officers to de-escalate a situation. "No, you don't! My best friend is being hauled off to jail while my other friend is crying because some shit stain thought he could do whatever he wanted to. Billy's not the bad guy. I would've killed him."

It was true. Stu hoped that the rage he saw in Billy that night would've gotten that kid's head ripped off. It's what he deserved in Stu's mind.

"Why do you two care about her so much?" Dewey's notepad closed. He was done with the professional questioning. Now he wanted answers to his own selfish questions. Stu was caught off guard by it. It didn't have an easy answer and if it did it wasn't one Stu could come up with. "She's all that I have left." Dewey knew that pain all too well. "You weren't the only one who lost someone you know? You treat me and Billy like villains but you didn't have to see what we did. Billy watched his girlfriend get slaughtered in front of him, you don't think that fucks a man up?"

Dewey emotionally backed off. This was probably the first time anyone cared about what Stu had to say on the matter. "My parents came home the day after I was almost killed just to bitch at me for throwing a party. "Stuart you're smarter than this," "This is what you get Stuart when you break the rules." They don't give a shit about me I've known it my whole life. My friends were the only people that cared and most of them are gone. So I'm sorry for clinging to the two people I have left."

Stu broke down as he ranted. He started to realize how fucked everything had become. How did he miss the friends he wanted to kill? He hated his life. He hated the way things were going and now he was crying to some cop about how he missed it all.

Dewey patted Stu on the back. "I'm sorry." He said. The apology meant a lot to Stu even though Dewey did nothing wrong. "I'm sorry too. I know you miss Tatum." Her name hadn't got any easier to hear. Dewey had said her name over and over again at his house hoping she'd eventually hear him. She'd run down from her room bitching about her brother disturbing her. What he would give to have her upset at him again. Anything was better than this.

"You boys need therapy," Dewey said making Stu laugh through the tears. "Says you." He responded picking at the knees of his coveralls. "I'm being serious. You two and Y/n have been through a lot you said it yourself. Someone to talk to wouldn't be such a bad thing."

Stu shook his head. He couldn't talk to a shrink because he was a murderer. Everybody knows confidentiality doesn't exist. "What's going to happen with Billy?" Dewey scratched the back of his neck. "Oh, he'll probably be released in a couple of hours once we get the story straightened out. Since Y/n was being assaulted Billy acted in good faith by stopping him." Relief washed over the boy. "What about Y/n?"

That was a trickier question one that was really up to you. "She's 18 so if she doesn't want to press charges she doesn't have to. If she does then we'll eventually go to court." Stu wanted to protect you. He hated himself for letting this happen but court wasn't a good idea. Justice would have to be served some other way.

"Hmm." Stu hummed in thought. "Hey, you said earlier that Billy was her boyfriend. What'd you mean by that?" Through all the commotion Stu hadn't listened to Billy's second outburst. "Loomis shouted it when we were trying to pull him away." Stu nodded trying to remember what exactly was said. "You didn't know?" Dewey asked seeing the sad look on Stu's face. "No, I knew. It just happened a couple of days ago. I'm just worried about how people are going to treat them." Stu looked at you shivering underneath Dewey's jacket. "Why don't I take you two home it's getting late."

"What about Billy?" Stu asked once again worried for his lover. "When we get ready to release him we'll call his dad." Stu started to shake his head. "No! He's 18 you can't call his dad. Call me I'll go get him if I have to bail him out I will." Dewey's face screwed up in confusion. Stu sighed trying to convince the cop otherwise. "His dad is a drunk if you call him you'll have more than one problem. Please just don't call him." Stu's pleas were genuine. After everything the last thing Billy needed was his dad screaming at him.

"I'll call Y/n's house when I know something but I can't promise you Mr. Loomis won't find out eventually." Stu stood up thanking the deputy. Dewey struggled to stand up on his own. Without judgment, Stu stuck out his hand helping the officer up on his feet. "Thanks." Stu shrugged in response.

Dewey started up his jeep as Stu walked you to the car. "We're going to go home okay?" You held Stu's hand as you looked around. "Where's Billy?" Stu helped you into Dewey's car as he tried his best to explain without making you cry again. "He's going to be home a little later." Stu climbed in next to you shutting the car door behind him.

The drive consisted of you fighting not to fall asleep while Dewey and Stu talked. "Do you need any help getting in?" Dewey asked as the car came to a stop in front of your house. "No, we'll be fine. Thanks, Dewey."

The deputy drove off once both you and Stu were safely inside. "You left your mask." You caressed his face with your hand. "That's what you're worried about?" Stu chuckled carrying you upstairs. "You looked hot with the mask." You started to cry over the lost mask which only made Stu laugh harder. "Shh hey, please don't cry my sides are hurting." He packed you into your bedroom helping you strip off the gross clothing. You flinched once he grabbed the hem of your dress. "I'm sorry..." He whispered. You shook your head not wanting to think about it. "it's okay. Yeah, it's fine." Your sniffles broke up your words. You helped Stu take off the dress getting over the initial deja vu.

"Bath or shower?" Stu asked walking into your bathroom. Honestly, all you wanted was to go to sleep but your skin was crawling with the memory of that bastard's touch. "Bath please." It came out as a whimper while you fought off more tears. Stu's heart broke a little at the sound.

Once the bath was drawn he helped you into the tub. It was cute how he tried to avert his gaze even though he'd seen you naked many times before. "I'm going to go see if I can find some food." He started to walk away before you stopped him. "Can you stay in here with me? I don't want to be alone." It was sappy and cliche but you didn't know how else to word it. Normally Stu was the clingy one but you needing him around was nice for a change.

Stu helped you get cleaned up while both of you laughed and cried over random things. Eventually, he helped you out wrapping a towel around your frame.

"Thank you." Stu sat your toothbrush and toothpaste out on the sink smiling at your gratitude. "You're welcome, honey. Make sure to brush your teeth, your breath is lethal." He laughed making a face at you. "Your's isn't much better." You joked picking up the toothbrush.

"I'll brush my teeth downstairs if you brush yours. Deal?" You nodded. "Alright, I'll be back up here in a minute." He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he made his way down the steps. As promised he brushed his teeth even using mouthwash after the fact. Before he checked on you he raided your pantry to see if there were any snacks. Stu carried potato chips, chocolate, and a couple of drinks up to your room.

"Don't eat too fast or..." His words trailed off seeing you passed out on the bed with nothing but a towel. Quietly he sat down the snacks saving them for later. "Hey," Stu whispered trying to help you get under the covers. "I'm going to hang up your towel so you don't kill me later for your bed being wet." You mumbled a response still half asleep. The boy smiled tossing the towel over the rack. He peeled off his coveralls leaving them where they hit the floor. He kept his boxers on as he climbed into bed. You hummed scooting next to your lover. Stu pulled you in so your back was flush with his chest. With his arms wrapped securely around you, you had no issue drifting off to sleep.

While you slept Stu thought about everything that has transpired. You and Billy were officially dating now whether you liked it or not. Come Monday you two would once again be the talk of the school. Stu wondered if Billy did it on purpose. When the three of you first established this relationship Stu didn't see a problem with you and Billy being the official couple. As long as it didn't interfere with the dynamic in private he was fine. Maybe he was a little jealous. Not of Billy but of you. You were able to walk around and say Billy was yours now. Something Stu's dreamed about for years you did it in just a couple of months.

The phone rang making both of you jump at the sound. Stu rolled over picking up the audibly offensive object. "Dewey?" Stu rubbed his eyes. "Sorry Deputy Riley." You couldn't make out what Dewey was saying before you finally fell back asleep. Stu looked over at the clock the bright red numbers burned his eyes. "It's almost four in the morning." He groaned. "I know. I'll be there as soon as I can." Stu hung up the phone with a huff. This time around Stu would be the one to clean up the mess.

(if your name is has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 19

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Your Astarion works have got me in a choke hold, I swear- and I'm feeling angsty right now 😅

So there's that dialogue in game, where Astarion tells you that he was locked in a coffin for a year and just- imagine ascended astarion punishing Tav in a similar fashion, and it's only after he frees her/them that he realizes what he did.

Tav meanwhile, is understandably an inconsolable mess and starving and has no idea what to do.

Okay so anon this request literally had a mind of its own and decided it would be great to just do the ascension scene but for tav cuz Astarion fucked up lol

rated M

Warnings, spoiler about Szarr family line, cult cult this is not good, trauma

1k words of PAIN

"Astarion! No, please! Please, don't do this! I'm sorry!"

Astarion has not stopped staring at the portrait of you hanging in the grand hall, The Hero of Baldur’s Gate. That painter you saved gifted you this as payment for saving him twice.

His eyes fall to your sweet closed smile, your beautiful handsome face captured in this frame.

"You promised!"

He promised he was nothing like Cazador… He isn't anything like Cazador, Astarion loves you. Oh, he loves you more than you can comprehend. However, he has to be fair even with his beloved.

His hand makes a fist as he tries to make excuse upon excuse for punishing you the same way that twisted bastard punished him. This… This is the lowest form of punishment he could give you. You had to be punished!

He releases his hand when feels blood, opening his palm to see the blood seeping out from the cuts.

Astarion eyes closed, you must be starving by now. In ten days he will release you. Just a few more hours. Then he will have you in his arms.

A thrall runs up to him, bowing, "My lord!" Panicking and out of breath.

"What is it?" He can't brood in peace.

"The– The coffin," Astarion raised an eyebrow, "It's missing, my lord."

"..." He turns calmly towards the thrall, "Gone?" He grabbed the fragile human by the neck, "I gave you one job to watch over a single coffin and it suddenly is gone!?" Astarion's fangs bared and eyes glowing with murderous intensity, "I should skin you alive!"

"My deepest apologies, my lord! I was caught off guard by–" Words choked out as Astarion's grip nearly asphyxiated the life out of them, "A vampire came from nowhere! She–"

"She?" Astarion dropped the thrall, "Explain quickly."

You were there locked away in the attic all alone with nothing but the creaking of old wood and the scurry of rats to fill the silent void. The darkness, Gods, you tried to picture anything in the darkness or sleep it away with dreams but all you had were nightmares. You cried, pleaded, but with no answer not even a ‘no’ in response. There was nothing, isolation, emptiness, a small space that felt like it was closing in, to the point of swallowing you whole.

Astarion told you for ten days you will be sealed away. This is the lowest form of punishment he could give you after what you did.

He lied to you and broke his promise, you should've known better but you are a naive fool.

Then the coffin opened, your arms covering your face as you had not seen the light in a while.

"Come on!" A little girl's voice.

You burst out of the coffin like a scared creature on all fours, your claws red with your own blood from scratching, but the warding seal had locked you away. Breathing hard, you barely can see before her young voice centers you.

“Easy there,” She reaches out to touch you but stops unsure if you want to be touched, “You’re not trapped anymore.”

Incognita the reason for your punishment: you stepped between Astarion and his murderous judgment to kill every last Szarr. Including one who disowned her family.

She is innocent! You showed proof and defended her.

"What—How are you here!? No, better yet you shouldn't be here!" Panicking as the girl waves it off.

"I wasn't going to let that asshole hurt you!" She helps you out of the coffin, "Here, drink this. Then follow me." Handing you a healing potion bottle but the liquid is clearly not a potion but blood. "I'll explain everything along the way."

The niece of Cazador Szarr found you as she has been watching within the walls of the Crimson Palace the new owner and thralls with spawns alike walking about.

Her uncle is dead and a new master has claimed his home.

She hates Astarion, though doesn't fault him completely for how he is. Cazador knew well how to make monsters.

"Thank you." You say as Incognita guides you through the deeper sections of the crypt. Your mind on the monster you love-- loved… Should no longer love.

Astarion, what has happened to him?! He swore never to hurt you the way Cazador has hurt him, broken him, yet the proof is the coffin with his magic to seal it.

A broken seal… He is going to know someone let you out.

Once outside the Crimson Palace, she takes you to the sewers. There is a hideout she found abandoned and has been using for some time. She explains that found a way to get out of the city and that she wants you to join her.

"He doesn't deserve you!" Defending her case once inside the hideout, "You aren't like the others, are you?" She has seen it. Astarion is cruel to you yet loving to you, it is confusing and all types of wrong in her eyes.

"To love is to be changed as they say." You are not sure you could explain to her why you stay, though it is not by choice these days.

"... Isn't that supposed to be in a good way?"

You laugh dryly, "Yeah. It is supposed to be." When you look at her you can't see why Astarion wanted her dead, sure you know why but she is nothing like her family members. Her diaries told as much. She tried to rename herself, tried to be better than them. The girl fights with her nature. A child vampire is not looked upon kindly and most vampires see them as wild creatures who need to be fed too much.

You protected her because it was the right thing to do.

"We can run away." She offers.

You smile, "You can run. He will track us both down if I run with you." You grab a piece of paper from the many on the wall, "Find the Devil's Fee, tell them I sent you. Tell them you will only speak to Hope. She can help you."

"What about you? You can't go back there." Confused as you remove a simple necklace off of your neck and put it on her, "(Name), what are you—"

"This is an amber with the blood of Lathander inside. May his blessing find its way to you."

The girl touches the warm amber and then looks up at you, "Is this a goodbye." You nod at her statement, "Find a cure. Live a proper life."

Astarion would and could rip the city apart to find you. If the search had not ended with a messenger bird delivering a letter with your handwriting and a location, Astarion might have started doing so. Instead, he moves swiftly to meet you.

Meet you in the ruins of the temple of Bhaal, there are bodies everywhere of what seems to be cultists who were trying to restore the temple. Runes everywhere, blood magic, glow whispering the abyssal language.

All of them speak in half nonsensical rhymes, but all with a theme about a prodigal child.

The temple smells fresh with death and blood, the symbol of the skull long gone and now a statue of a bat with ruby eyes is crafted into the stone.

"Never again will they control me." Your voice echoes, there you stand in the pool of blood.

The blood smells sweet, sickly, and wrong.

"Astarion," Your back facing him, "Thank you." You gaze up at the statue, "There is only one way to stop evil in this world." A conversation when he suggested controlling the cult of the Absolute rather than destroying it, "To control everything. To rip freedom from them." The room glows, the power raw, and has him dropping to his knees, "You showed me the powerful do not protect the weak. They enslave them! Forcing us to crawl, beg, and suffer!"

You summon forth your gift, the beast consuming your body and morphing you into a bat-like creature.

"I will never live in fear of anything, especially of you!"

[stolitzsings]

A Moment in the Sun

[This is my first attempt at helluva boss fic, so please enjoy a soft, short little thing about sunlight, rest, and trying something new <3 it was inspired by this beautiful artwork, and my constant need for soft stolitz]

“Man, I didn’t know sunlight could feel this good,” Blitz said, leaning back on his hands and turning his face upward. 

Stolas shielded his face with one hand and looked at him affectionately. The light was almost blinding to his eyes, so well-suited to studying more distant stars. 

“Darling, you're up here every week,” he said.

Blitz waved this away, eyes closed as he enjoyed the warmth of the living world's sun. “Yeah, but I'm always trying to kill someone. Kinda hard to smell the roses when some asshole is trying to shoot your dick off.”

Stolas smiled. “I suppose that's true.” Blitz did look more relaxed than he'd seen in a long time. The discomfort of the searing sunlight was a small price to pay for that. 

He smoothed out a corner of the blanket they were sitting on and looked around at the earthly greenery around them. He'd been lucky to find this secluded little spot, a grassy hill that rose high enough above the surrounding trees to afford them a beautiful view of the sky. He’d brought Via here a few times to stargaze, and he was happy to share it with Blitz now.

He turned back towards Blitz to find him halfway through stripping off his shirt. Color rose immediately in his cheeks as he watched the movement of Blitz’s back muscles under his skin. 

Blitz noticed him looking. “Don't get any ideas, birdbrain. I'm not getting grass stains on my ass for you.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, letting the sun warm his back. He really was lovely in the sunlight–the dark gloss of his horns and spines, the striking contrast of white and red–and Stolas couldn't help but stare.

He stroked one finger down Blitz’s spine, slow and deliberate, enjoying the way Blitz relaxed under his touch. Then Stolas just brushed the base of his tail, and he felt him go very still.

Oh? That was something new. He started again, this time tracing from between his shoulder blades to a few inches down his tail. There was no mistaking it this time. The moment he reached it, Stolas heard his breath hitch. 

“Is everything alright, darling?” he asked innocently, one finger still drawing short, delicate lines along his tail's base.

“Yep, fine,” he snapped, too quickly. Stolas fought back a smile. Blitz liked to think of himself as cool and hard to read, keeping his true feelings hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and thoughtlessness. But there were moments when he fell open like a book, secrets exposed to the world. Stolas cherished every one. He drank in the sight of Blitz’s spines lifting along his back, his cheeks flushing faintly, his head tilting just slightly back as Stolas continued to run his hand further down his tail. 

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, his fingers circling around Blitz’s spines, “it makes sense that imp tails would be rather sensitive. I'd never thought of it because my own is just feathers.” Blitz had turned half-around now, watching Stolas with his mouth slightly open.

Happy to have his attention, Stolas lifted Blitz’s tail into his hands and began to wind it between his fingers. “But yours is functional, rather than simply ornamental.”

He could hear Blitz carefully pacing each breath, trying and failing to seem unaffected. Stolas let another few inches slip through his fingers and smiled at the way his next measured inhale became an unsteady gasp. 

“It grasps and curls,” he continued, “it probes and responds.” He reached the very end of Blitz’s tail and gently cupped its pointed barb in his hands.

“It can bristle in anger…” His voice was reverent as he bent his head down.

“...or shiver in ecstasy.” He pressed a kiss to the center of the barb and felt a thrill run through Blitz’s whole body, mirroring the excited flutter of Stolas's heart.

The next thing he felt was his back colliding with the ground as Blitz tackled him. Stolas laughed, his breath only slightly impeded by the imp now straddling his ribcage.

“Fuck you.” He tried to look stern, but he was already fumbling with the buttons of Stolas's shirt.

“Darling, I believe that's your job.”

Blitz’s tail flicked a sharp reprimand against Stolas's thigh. Then he tangled his sun-warmed hands in Stolas's hair feathers and swept him up into a kiss.

[yowyowyaoi]

Deidara's Daily Texts from the Akatsuki, Part Two

From Itachi:

I swear I'm not mad just give it back

You're STILL not over that?!

What are you even shaving? You don't have a single hair on your face!

Not my business who you date, just keep them from fighting all the time!

That's funny because Hidan said it was you, asshole.

I never ask you questions like that about Sasori, do I?!

You better hide, Kakuzu's going around collecting rent

God you're a worse gossip than Tobi!

I know it was you my whole room smells like clay!

That's a really lewd thing to say ... are you really hitting on me or are you just drunk off your ass?

Yeah but considering I use nothing in mine and you use like 200 products in yours, I'd say mine is better.

Stop it. You're not a pet person.

Okay can you just come with me? I don't ever ask you for favors do I?!

Pay me back what you owe me first.

From Hidan:

Yeah but I'm hotter. Like WAY hotter.

He loves to say stupid shit like that, he's not being serious.

Bet his dick is bigger tho.

That's literally the most stupid shit I've ever heard. We're MEANT to eat meat, fucker!

Yeah but if shark dick catches us he'll beat our asses and Kakuzu already said he's not putting me back together if it happens again!

I'll pray to Jashin for you, you pathetic atheist.

Let's get the fuck out of here and get something to eat. Kakuzu's sleeping I can swipe his wallet!

Me and you? In your DREAMS, kid. You couldn't handle this immortal dick.

Why tf would I care about that? Tits or not me and you are brothers, man.

Crablegs.

No, steak. Rare-rare. Still mooing.

Fuck a vegetable. Load it up with meat.

No wait corn is good but make sure it's seasoned with the meat blood.

That cunt did not beat my ass he caught me by surprise! I'll kill him next time I see his ugly face!

From Konan:

I don't remember my siblings so you all are it for me.

When a girl asks how old you think she is always answer like 10 years younger than you actually think! But seriously, 40?! FORTY??

Did you always know or did it take you a little bit to figure it out?

Rose petal or honeysuckle. Sometimes lilac if it's not too overwhelming.

It's a complicated situation for sure. They both feel something strongly for you but if my opinion counts? I'd stay with Sasori. At least you know what to expect from him, and I think he genuinely loves you.

I've narrowed it down to you or Hidan. If you confess I'll go easy on you. :-)

Please be gentler with him. He may hide it but he's gotten really fragile these last few months and he's in pain almost constantly.

Threatening to "beat people's asses" isn't my style. I go for the silent kill.

Wow, HE did that for YOU? That's interesting.

Take it up with Kakuzu. He's supposed to provide you all with extra money for exactly these types of things.

I would just do it, Dei. Be grateful your punishment is so light compared to what you did.

Are you two serious? You realize we're all trying our hardest NOT to attract negative attention?!

Perkier if it's chilly out ;)

I thought about it but I've had it this length for forever. It'd probably look weird long.

Only if you promise to sit still this time. I'm not gonna have you complain if it gets smudged again.

From Kakuzu

Brat. Stop.

I don't give a shit if you don't like him. He's valuable and this organization can't afford to lose him. So SUCK IT UP.

The waxing poetic was one thing but the actual poetry was nauseating.

That's coming out of your paycheck.

How is that an "emergency expense"?!

I don't care what you feel it is, "unfair" or not EVERYONE is expected to contribute to the bills. You use the lights? You pay. You take showers? You pay. You eat the food? You. PAY.

I know you two are friends. You have fairly good ideas about what he likes. Help me and I'll take off that debt you owe me from last month.

Sasori can do that for you, can't he??

Nice try, kid, but you still owe me. And you couldn’t handle my immortal love anyway.

From Tobi

I'd ask you to come with but Itachi thinks you'll try and blow him up while he's asleep.

Diabetes was just made up by assholes who don't want us to eat all the good sugar!

He's really so selfish he wouldn't let me borrow you for one night?

Hidan said it was you ...

I KNOW you like older men! Hey what if I told you I was 31, what then??

Of all the things that could be under this mask, why would "sharingan" be one of your guesses? That's ridiculous Senpai!

Come on Senpai! Leader would be mad at first but I think everyone would like a puppy!

Just tell him that you were only home 10 days this month so you should only have to pay 1/3 of the rent

If you want to but Hidan would probably call you a lot of names for wearing it

Marry me and I'll carry you everywhere all the time. It's a good deal!

Let's see if one of the others will trade with us, I hate going to really cold places

Try if you want to but Konan hit me so hard last time I saw stars for three days

Can you make me a bomb shaped like a scythe? Hidan is getting on my nerves.

From Zetsu

It's complicated, but everybody's blood has a distinct scent. Your's smells like lava and ash. It's very unique.

"Love" or not I'd watch my back, child. You'd make a prettier puppet for him than anyone else.

The years don't go by but centuries do.

Come now, you could have left SOME of those bodies in-tact for me!

I can't imagine that it would matter in the long run.

If you three don't stop attracting so much attention we'll have to pick up and move yet again!

I can tolerate human food but it doesn't compare to humans as food.

Neither. Neither of them is a suitable match for you. I'd run as far as I could from both of them.

Thank you for the offer but I don't believe your moisturizer would be effective on my plant skin.

No, not especially. Things are much the same to me.

If Kakuzu said no then there's no point in asking Leader. Kakuzu holds the money with an iron fist and Nagato has never once interfered with his decisions.

A bit more rest and some decent food would do you a world of good.

From Nagato

Then I must not understand true art because all I can see is property damage and unwanted negative attention being drawn towards our organization.

I understand your frustration but please continue to work with him. I need Sasori to stay here and you're the only one Tobi will listen to.

Oh? It seems it may be time I had a talk with you young ones then.

I see no need for further recruits.

Yes, thank you. Konan used it on my hair and it worked wonderfully.

I'm aware you don't like him but please endeavor to coexist in this group with him. Also remember how precarious his health is before you pull another stunt like the one you and Hidan did yesterday.

I won't stand in the way of your personal goals but surely you realize how extreme self-detonation sounds?

I got you all these phones as a way to communicate efficiently with your partners and with the entire group over long distances. NOT to play games. Kakuzu tells me the phone bill is $200 over it's usual amount due to unathorized games and extra features. If this keeps up I'll take them back.

Next time please be sure you're checking who you're sending explicit pictures to. I assume that was meant only for Sasori's eyes? Now I have Tobi and two others ready to kill him to be your partner.

From Kisame

I shouldn't admit it but it WAS very funny.

But what would be the purpose? Samehada steals chakra, aesthetics don't matter.

I can't tell the future but I can guess that if he's stayed this long, then he probably means to stay with you for life.

Yeah well if one more "accidentally" goes off under his window while he's napping I'm going to make a sandwich of your fingers, kid.

I suppose that would be fun but good luck getting the money from Kakuzu.

I can't even imagine the lives they live. It's really more merciful for them that we extract their demon and send them to the afterlife.

Our relationship is so much more than that but all you immature brats ever ask about is the sex aspect. Shameful.

There's no way he bought that fresh, I can smell it all the way back in my room!

Wear your cloak and perhaps borrow Sasori's as well, it's extremely windy and chilly.

Have you considered a haircut, maybe? Or to dye it black like my Itachi's?

Lol relax it was a joke, no need for threats.

From Sasori

I did get them. Beautiful, but Kakuzu would kill you if he knew you were using these phones for such lewd purposes.

A "magic cure" doesn't beat eating right, going to bed at a decent hour, and exercising once in a while, brat.

Funny how they all think I'M the pervert here when YOU'RE the one who came at ME so aggressively. Brat.

I can think of a much better use for all of those pretty mouths of yours, Dei. Come see me and I'll show you what I mean.

Maybe I need to get you a dictionary for Christmas. Because you STILL don't seem to understand what "covert" and "stealth" mean.

Yeah well you nearly dying because of your own carelessness isn't what I'd call fun. So stop it before I end you myself.

I would never.

"<3" is not a heart. I don't care what idiots say. A real human heart is NOT shaped like that. I'll bring you one of my anatomy textbooks so you can see for yourself.

Yes, I suppose. But don't make it a habit please.

Your breathing sounded strange. Come see me for a checkup. Now.

I don't care for when he sends us on missions to cold places. Bad for you and puts a lot of wear on Hiroku.

Trust me, you DO snore. Like a steam engine.

Why you can't simply ignore him, I'll never understand.

Your eating habits are atrocious, brat.

You're quite the silly one, aren't you?

Mm. You know it's not in me to be jealous. But. If I *ever* see him touch you like that again it'll be the last time his fucking hand is attached to his body. You're MINE.

It's just baffling to me that you won't do it. You'd be the centerpiece of the entire collection! Come on I KNOW you love attention!

I wouldn't trust Hidan around something like that.

Goodnight, my sweet prince. See you in the morning ... if the poison doesn't take you out :-)

As per the Inbox request of @tulipunainenruusu 😊

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Eddie's awesome and super effective step-by-step plan on how to seduce local pretty boy Steve Harrington:

1. Make a good impression on his kids

That was almost too easy. DnD always gets them all.

2. Mentally prepare yourself to become a parental figure to a fuck-ton of kids

After much contemplation and many basketball games between Sinclair and Steve where the latter sweats and takes off his shirt and pours water over his head, I have decided that I am ready for this huge step. I will be the best stepfather those kids have ever had. Besides Steve, of course

3. Ask him out on a date

Should probably figure out step 4 before I do this one. No, this is NOT STALLING OKAY !!!!!!

4. Take him out (ON A DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Possible date ideas:

Invite him to one of our shows

Go Are you stupid? Haven't you seen how many times that boy has been hit in the head? and you want to invite him to a place with LOUD MUSIC and FLASHING LIGHTS?!

...God?

No. This is your fbi agent.

Ohhhh. Am I a wanted man? 😏

You are a risk to the public safety after what happened this summer. And after watching you attempt and fail to lick your own elbow for over an hour to prove a point to a kid half your age, and also seeing you fail so miserably while trying to plan a date, I am convinced that that was the correct choice by the US Government.

First of all: I knew that you weren't God be

stop showing me your tongue. I can see you through the camera. Cause he would definitely be a huge Corroded Coffin fan. Second of all, don't fucking inter

You can't stop me, and you are clearly dependent on my help. Rupt me. Asshole. And third: leave my Docs alone?! a) I can think better with lists. b) This is also where I save

most of your music, I know. I fix some verses sometimes to give it a better flow

I KNEW THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG

You're welcome. I don't even ask that you credit me. Now please, calm down. You have time to throw your tantrum later. Right now we have a date to plan. In the time I have gotten to know you, I have become concerningly invested in your relationship with the Harrington boy. And my partner also agrees.

Hello. I am the FBI Agent assigned to our current target Steve Harrington.

Uhm, mister agent. You are aware that I meant take out in the DATING sense and not in the KILLING sense, right?! Wait, you know what, let me go clarify it real quick.

A clarification is not needed.

He's going to do it anyway. He never listens.

Sounds like someone I know. Back to our *romantic* target. I can tell you that Steve Harrington wishes nothing more than to live a domestic life in a comfortable home with the person he loves and a truly impressive amount of kids. And a dog.

HAVE YOU SEEN HOW I FUCKING LIVE?! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BUY HIM A WHOLE-ASS HOUSE?!?!OAJFJWJF

Although I am not technically assigned to you, you and my responsibility spend so much time together, that I have indeed had ample of time to thoroughly inspect your residence, yes.

In fact, me and my partner oftentimes take turns watching over the both of you at once

WHY ARE YOU TELLING HIM THIS. IF BOSS FINDS OUT WE WILL BOTH HAVE TO WORK FULLTIME AGAIN

Calm down, we are already breaking the rules by directly interacting with out target. So, whenever you and Steve watch a movie or cuddle or sleep in the same bed or go to the record shop together even though you both have completely opposite taste in music or s why are you looking like this Eddie.

FUCK WE REALLY DO ALL THAT, DON'T WE?!?!?!

Yes.

Yes.

BUT THESE......THESE ARE ALL.....THESE ARE ALL GREAT DATE ACTIVITIES AREN'T THEY?!?!

Yes, since both of you have a romantic interest in each other I would say that these activities could be considered a date.

Now you understand why we are so invested in your relationship? Aaaaaand he's run off.

But. But he has to delete this document. Nobody can never know of this severe breachment.

Wait true! Fuck! EDDIE MUNSON GET BACK HERE FOR A SECOND

EDDIE MUNSON!!

@weirdandabsurd42

@spicysix

@alliecat523 (ik u don't go here but u did interact with the post so)

[beesmygod]

BLOODBORNE LORE Q+A PART 5: BOSSES

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

---

THE HUNTER ASKS:

there IS a connection! where queen yharnam can be found, so can her shadows! they're HER shadows, not the shadows of the city. this is a reasonable inference given they have low poly pthumerian faces under the hoods. i brightened the shit out of this screencap to make it easy to see.

the boss version is found right before you run into her (or, really, one of her projections*) in the moonside lake and the others right before we bump into her on our way to deal with mergo.

*this is some speculation but its not without backing. the real queen yharnam can summon two ghostly clones of herself who can be distinguished from the real one because they are not pregnant. the one you meet before mergo poofs like the ones she summons during her fight if you hit her.

they do suck tho. kind of a shitty fight. if youre a confederate and you summon henryk its not even fair. something DID happen in development tho. lance macdonald, who does a lot of bloodborne datamining that whips ass, recently posted a comprehensive history of this bastard: the snake ball

despite the shadows of yharnam sucking ass and being one of the weaker boss fights, i seriously think this looks way worse and it was a good idea to cut it. if i reached the end of this notoriously grueling and miserably boring level full of literally nothing but snakes just to be served another, bigger snake i would become saint patrick irl. at least they pretended it wasnt snakes at first with the current fight lol.

i dont really get the snake infestation thing. like its there and there's the whole madras twins story or whatever. but it doesnt really seem to have any attribution to any outside force. it just seems like its some shit that happens in yharnam. sucks. maybe this is supposed to be another example of the line between man and beast blurring, like the note in byrgenwerth.

THE HUNTER ASKS:

lol i love this question. i have no idea. how tf does he know its name is paarl. it sure as shit didnt tell him. "vacuous rom" at least comes from micolash but i dont know how you would know it before that. how does the hunter know its a spider. how does the hunter know ebrietas is a girl. the insane confidence to decide that mergo's wet nurse is a wet nurse is unfathomable.

i saw someone on reddit call logarius "gary" and i thought that was very disrespectful. does that help.

THE HUNTER ASKS:

i think so! not a lot of info on those guys. i appreciate their existence tho. they have a sick hat you can steal.

i guess i don't really understand how fire works in the bloodborne universe, really. laurence's burning body could be read as metaphorical but none of the fires in yharnam go out easily. old yharnam is still burning, somehow. some pthumerican enemies can cast hadoukens for no reason, for example: the pthumerian elder, those chalice dungeon enemies that look like the chapel dweller, the keeper of the old lords and their horrible dog, the shadows of yharnam............lady maria..........!

the only one i can think of that breaks this pattern are the beast possessed soul and the loran cleric who tries to kill you IRL by lighting your PS4 on fire with his AOE attack. i know i post this all the time but please watch this 30 second clip of this asshole casting nuclear winter on this poor hunter

genuinely no clue on this. fire cleanses or whatever but other than that its a mysterious force in universe that behaves oddly.

THE HUNTER ASKS:

i believe so! she's at least a cainhurst knight if her outfit is anything to go by. its such a good fight. her song on the OST is a waltz and its like they created the fight around keeping time.

---

i should cut this here. next time i can focus entirely on rom/mensis/the one reborn, etc. almost done. that post will probably be long tho.

but everyone is so wrong about what happened so you have to deal with it.

I GOT A LOT OF PROBLEMS WITH YOU PEOPLE

[obscure-imaginations]

Mercer Frey NSFW headcanons. Long post below, 18+ only. Reader is gender neutral and no actual genital descriptions are used, just vague things.

Trigger warnings for: Vague mentions of trauma, sex things, kinky stuff, knives, singular mention of watersports

Mirrored on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45678733

-If you've managed to get Mercer Frey to bed you, you're doing something right. Don't worry, he's not going to kill you- he has many more methods that aren't as... vulnerable.

-Most of the time, Mercer repulsed by sex and affection. Something about it doesn't sit right with him. On his good days, be plain in asking if he wants to have sex. He hates beating around the bush, and it's the easiest way to get consent. As your relationship develops, he'll be a bit more, ah, kind about his rejections. They'll turn into "not right now" instead of snapping about how he doesn't "have time for these shenanigans!"

-His experiences are limited. Most of the action Mercer has gotten has been from sex workers, but it's few and far between. Not quite his taste, he does just fine with his hand. However, he's a quick learner. Be straightforward in what feels good, what you like, what you don't like, and so on. He hates guessing games.

-Presuming it’s early in your relationship, please be gentle. Nothing hardcore- for now. Don’t be surprised if he needs to take a minute every once in a while to take a few deep breaths. Sex, and furthermore, a relationship, is new for him, and can easily be overwhelming. Don’t pressure him into doing something, don’t take his “no”s personal, and be patient.

-Now, to the juicy bits! Mercer may be an ‘old man’, but he’s still got it in him. He’s strong, and has no problem pinning you to something or tossing you onto a bed. He has impeccable self-control, and can last for quite a while. Mercer’s refractory period is a bit longer due to age, but if you need more, teach him how to get more use out of his fingers and tongue. Lock picking and fancy words aren’t the only things this thief is capable of.

-His penis is nicely sized, good to fill you up but nothing over-the-top. His girth only makes a little trouble, but lubricating oils will make the process easier.

-At first, he’s awful at aftercare. He’s not an asshole about it, it’s just that he doesn’t know what to do. Help him by guiding him on what you need, and suggest to get some advice from Brynjolf. You’ll always remember the face he pulled when you said that…

-After building up trust, he’ll slowly ease into harder, kinkier things. He’ll start simple- a hand around your throat, slapping your ass, biting. Then he gets to explore more of his kinks with you. What fun! He’s a dominant type who prefers to top. He doesn’t want to be penetrated, but that’s not the only fun there’s to be had!

-Here’s some ideas of what he’s into: marking/claiming, impact, knife play (refer to point 1), oil play, light BDSM, pet play, power exchange, dacryphilia, praise, degredation, edging, overstimulation, slight humiliation, begging. 

-As is his lifestyle, he’s rough. He can’t really help it- his life has been shitty and he’s not used to softness. However, despite what he says, he’ll do what makes you happy. If he’s got you over his lap and your ass is quite raw, and you whimper about it hurting, he’ll snap “It’s supposed to hurt!” but ease his slaps into gentle caresses. If you complain about his thrusts being too rough, he’ll growl out “too damn bad” but slow down. This is the only time where Mercer will not say what he means- hypocrite. But don’t say anything about it!

-Eventually, he can learn to be soft. Early in the relationship, he was still quite rough, even if it wasn’t anything hardcore. He’ll murmur praise into your ear, only you can hear it. You’re so good for him, so sweet, so nice to let him do these things to you and still have the guts to ask for more.

-Yes, he likes seeing you flustered from his praise, but he needs it, too. Tell him how big he is, how his cock fills you up just right, like he was made to fuck you. Tell him how strong he is, how much you love it when he manhandles you. When you’re in the relationship for a decent while, moan out how much you love him and he’ll do whatever you want. Mercer is starved for words of affirmation.

-Mercer will definitely be interested in BDSM protocols. Nothing major, you’re both busy people, but little things. Kneel for him when he gets home, offer to cockwarm him when he brings home paperwork, things like that. 

-Building on that, he’s into petplay. In Riftweald Manor (not the guild, for fuck’s sake!), be good puppy and lay at his feet while he works on paperwork. Let him clip on a leash and walk you to the kitchen where he’ll have you sit at his side and beg for your food. He’ll feed you bits of his meal from his hands, until you’re full. Then he’ll walk you back upstairs and give you a good fuck for being his good puppy. His praise kink is definitely shown here, he’ll almost constantly be calling you his good puppy and his good boy/girl (depending on your preference).

-The Guildmaster, despite slinging insults like rocks, isn’t too much into degradation. It’s more like mean praise. “My slut” and “good whore” is more his speed.

-However, Mercer very much enjoys humiliation. He’ll mock your whines when he edges you, he talks about fucking you in front of the Guild (just dirty talk, he’s a private man), he’ll laugh if you struggle to get out of any bonds he puts you in. If you’re into any sort of watersports, that’s the prime time to get him to humiliate you.

-Mercer greatly enjoys seeing tears run down your face. Whether from fucking your throat or giving you so many orgasms you can’t stand it, he’ll gently wipe them from your eyes and tell you to get over it. He may be mean, but he’ll never be so mean that you cry… unless the overstimulation makes him mean to you.

-Mercer will make you beg for what you want and then not give it to you… not at first, at least. He loves hearing how much you need him and responding with “But I’m right here, love.” as he expertly avoids sticking his cock in your needy hole. Going back to the praise kink, he wants to feel wanted. Talk about how you need his big cock and him to hold you down and he’ll be more accepting of your requests.

-With marking you up, he’s an expert. He loves seeing the results of a play session on you afterwards, especially if it’s on you for a week or so. Not to dip into any angst in a smut post, but he needs that reassurance that something is *his*, just as equally as he is yours.

-Knife play doesn’t get too rough. He likes you shuddering as he runs it over your skin, or when you gasp as he cuts clothing off of you. He’s more hesitant with marking you, but enough talking about it can get him to warm up to it. Any marks will be light, only on you for a few days. Mercer always has healing supplies at the ready.

-After a play session, once he’s taken care of you, he likes it when you rub his back and shoulders. His posture is horrible from his brooding and any massaging you do helps ease the pain. Grab some massage oil if you want another round.

-Once he’s had a nice ‘what is aftercare’ chat with Brynjolf, Mercer is a master of cleaning up the mess he’s made you into. Healing potions, water tankards, and snacks are prepared beforehand. Everything in his house is expensive so you don’t have to worry about the quality of his furs when you get cold. He’ll run a bath for you if that’s what you need. Don’t worry, this guy takes care of you.

[slumber-lexifer]

A horrible nightmare

(Warning self harm and yandere tendency and gn)

you having a horrible nightmare you wakeup screaming crying, it alerted the yanderes roomates Melcome breaks the door down with his tall body in his thinking the worst has happene he definitely broke the lock.

Melcome shouts "what's wrong are you hurt?" Melcome he looked around Peter Falls out of the closet in a panic to by your side "ouch!" Peter gets up brushing off "y/n are you ok-" they walk over to your bed and trip as something grab there leg Pete hits the floor with a thump,Jeff under the bed crawling out to comfort you before pete,while Peter lying on the floor again with wind knocked out of them he groan,

Jeff gets up and sits on your bed, it diping with there weight, he reaches out to hold your hand, fingers interlocking he kissed your hand gently,he looks into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his words "it's ok dearest l should of comforted you when you were having the nightmare l thought with the heavy breathing you were having a good dream~" Peter gets back up sitting at the end of the bed "you don't have to be scared my beloved lm here for you open and all~"he rubbing your legs soothingly ontop the blanket.

Melcome pushed them away, to get close to you stroking your head with his big hands, you heard footsteps running it was alex he ran into room and tackle you in a hug he had teary eyes"lm so sorry l was late l should of been here first what if someone broke in and hurt you!" You patting there back to comfort them now,and there was knock out the window it was brox was looking through the window his bedroom is next to yours, Peter walks over and shuts the curtains in spite he sighs, brox bengs gently but leave to crawl back into his window and walk in you room were you are he standsat the foot of the bed "my love are you okay you frightened me with your screaming"

Alex spoke up softly "hay maybe we should get y/n a hot chocolate or tea to calm you down?"He looks at you smiling lovingly soft smile

Melcome nods "that a good idea l can cradle you on the couch as we wait." they all glare at him You spoke "no it's ok l can walk and stand" you get up and walk out your room its late and dark you can't see a thing alex walks to kitchen with no problem not walking into anything in the dark like he's done it a thousand times, he turns on the kitchen light,you flinchand hiss at the lights as blinded you for a bit,everyone had followed behind you in the kitchen Jeff next to you with there hand on you,as Melcome was making tea for you it was calm a rarity with there clashing at each other Yandere tendency,they won't kill each other just slash at each other, not kill they come to a agreement a truce anyone but your roomates are a threat.

Jeff mumble"hay if you scared to sleep you always join me do you want to join me" clearly all the yanderes heard it grab there attention they want you in there bed to.

Alex whining "no sleep with me please l have the softest pillow-"

Brox butted in "alex your tiny like your bed they perfer to sleep with me in a comfy clean bed that doesn't have weird stains and blood"

Peter scoffed "really brox you l don't think y/n here wants someone grinding on them in there sleep" brox ignores Pete,

Melcome coughs making the tea everyone else is distracted to do that for y/n he looks at Peter "Peter really how scrouny you are you won't keep them warm not like me lm plump and warm l actually have body heat to produce and oh how y/n fits in my arms" he said in deep sotinhing cunning voice, he glares at Peter walks off to his room to grab his baseball bat as threat display, he comes back next to Jeff, glares at Melcome Jeff not liking how close Peter is with his baseball bat he grabs his pocket knife in a precaution,

the two siblings alex and brox at he each other throats,they grabbed the kitchen knives alex shouting at his older brother "l keep my by bed clean unlike you with y/n underwear in your pillow case you asshole!" Brox laughs "oh like you don't do the same your actual pathetic when you didn't arrive quick enough for y/n you busy curving hearts in your skin it's revolting to y/n!"alex is upset furious "lm showing my dedication unlike you l don't make y/n feel unlove l actually carve there name and my undying love for them in my skin as permanent reminder" all the yanderes distracted except Jeff leaning down whispering in you ear "who do you want sleep with for comfort with you tonight my darling~" you been standing in the middle of there fights anxious sweating cause they all have there weapons out,Jeff whispered again "would you rather me darling or the others choose your poison.~"he spoke in seductive purr like voice.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s11e17 red meat (w. robert berens, andrew dabb)

have a vague idea this episode is gonna be difficult to watch, didn't have the emotional fortitude to watch it last night

well, sam getting shot in the cold open sure would do it.

DEAN All right, well, we make a call and we put somebody on it. SAM Yeah, but... [He sighs, closes his laptop and looks at Dean]. We'll get him back. DEAN How? SAM I... I don't know. But we'll figure it out.

i feel like an asshole but i'm like, are we talking about cas? dunno what other dude he'd be distraught over. maybe it's my total lack of emotional connection with the character but i'm just very ???? literally whatever i'm expecting they're feeling about him, i'm always wrong. broken record on that.

s11e17 / s8e23

reminded of that little smile dean gave sam when he was wrapping his hand in the church. and it reminds me of being with my mom when she was dying in the hospital. we're gonna smile and be so positive and softer than we normally would, but also try to keep it light. (i'm not sure i have the emotional fortitude for this tonight either)

not quite sure i'll ever have it to watch sam die like this. this is awful. trying to talk myself into just finishing so i don't end up crying for an extended period of time today and another day.

BILLIE It's cute, though. You pretending you're trying to save Sam for the greater good, when we both know you're doing it for you. You can't lose him.

just saw this line in an edit recently and thought it was attributed to Death, no wonder i didn't remember it.

DEAN I'm asking you... I'm begging you, please. Bring him back. Bring him back and take me instead. BILLIE I'm not here to bargain with you, kid. I'm here to reap you. And the kicker is... Sam's not dead.

here's where i'm never happy with anything. despite the unhinged love and commitment of it all, this all is really veering into emotional torture porn for me. how can we make it the worst. and then a little worse on top of that. except instead of making me irritated, i'm just more sad and want it to be over. maybe this is one i won't be able to appreciate until i have some distance.

DEAN Michelle, this is gonna be very hard. But you will be okay. And, eventually... eventually you'll get back to normal. MICHELLE No, I won't. They said I could leave an hour ago. But... where am I even supposed to go? After everything we survived together... I watched the man I love die. There's no normal after that.

not sure what this pointed zoom into dean making the sad puppy face is about. we know he can't be normal when sam dies, he knows it too?? does he remember that year with lisa and ben? and now he has the threat of not only losing sam, that sam won't be waiting for him in heaven or anywhere else if he does die.

well, fortunately we have the production draft of the script linked in the wiki for this one so actually can get answer

so i mean.. ok. both watched their husbands die is what we're saying

DEAN So, that's it, huh? Two quarts O-neg, and you're good to go.

i thought we were treating abdominal gunshot wounds like the serious emergency they are but i guess not

SAM Hey, so, what did you do? When you thought I was dead? What did you do? DEAN Thought about redecorating your room [Sam chuckles], you know, putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball... really class up the joint. SAM Right, seriously. DEAN What, I, uh... I knew you weren't dead. SAM Right. DEAN I knew.

so i mean. sam not buying that, clearly. wonder if dean ever tells him

should remember to check for a script next time i have wonderings about what they're trying to convey with their faces (went to check if they had 11x11 because i was curious about that whole pining line, but wiki doesn't have one linked)

tonal shift after the like.. heavy focus on sam (mostly) dying very... graphic in swimming around in the pain and slow death and almost-murder of it all and then we're having dean kill himself (briefly) to try to take sam's place with no consideration of repercussions, to hey dude we saved (and tried to kill sam) is a werewolf and he changed and he's gonna punch through this cop's chest cavity in a pretty silly manner. so no moral quandary killing him either, look at that. weird. anyway, the woman who played michelle was really good in those emotional scenes

i'm wiped out.

[xeelaa]

One, two

Japanese= bold and underlined

English= normal writing

Warning gore, swearing, death, violence

sound = ​​​​​​marked by * 

"Wake up!" Yelled a stranger "I don't want to" a f/c hair girl mumbled "(name) you have school today!" The stranger yells when hearing this the f/c hair shot up and almost yelled " mom please, get out so I can get dressed! Please." "Fine but you only have 10 minutes left or you will be late for school" her mom said calmly and walked out as soon as she closed the door (name) got off from her bed and ran to the closet "no...no...no" she whispered while going through her closet it was (name) first day of school she was 18 and on the

verge of college "found it!" (Name) yells pulling a outfit it was dress about knee length  she also had black gloves that went up to her wrist. (Name) and her mom moved to Japan a month ago in the summer after her dad had died from cancer in a London on Christmas it had all ready moved on to the end of spring when her mom had the idea of

moving to another country to start new and (name) asked if they could to move to Japan jokingly and her mom said sure. "It is time go!" (Name) mom yelled "all right" (name) says while slipping on her shoe she had all ready put the other shoe she ran up to her mom and gave her a quick hug and said "love you, have a good day and goodbye!" (name) yells while running out of the house while walking to the school she put her headphones in and played her playlist and looked at apps like Facebook and restaurants near for dinner tonight and when she looked up to cross the road she saw a kid running across on a red light but some driver didn't see the light or kid panicking she shoved her phone in her dress pocket and ran shoving the kid out of the road on the streets not wanting the kid to see her soon fate she screams while running "close your eye tight and cover them wit- she looks back at the truck and squeezed her eyes closed tightly and to her surprise

it was only bump 'did they see me?' (Name) thought "what the fuck were you thinking! You almost killed a kid you asshole!" (name) screams at them while walking to the sidewalk to ask the kid if they were hurt and that she was sorry for push them but when the kid looked back their

eyes were terrified and started crying and looked grossed out while saying "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" that was all he could get out and kept repeating it "hey it is ok" (name) says with a smile until she hear screaming and sirens when she looked back at the road and looked down her mangled body land there her arms were broken and scrambled in places it shouldn't bend, one of her legs was Crushed under the truck's wheel while the other leg had cuts and her

stomach was all bloody with shard in it that must have broken off of the truck's front, her head was fine but had a scar across her eye it would leave scar but she shouldn't be blind in her eye "did I die..?" She asked but no one heard her "hello.? Please answer." She ask even if they didn't hear her she started to tear up "please..?" (Name) went on and looked down at her hands which were clean unlike herself on the road who had blood everywhere, her dress was clean her other self in the road had holes and blood mixed with gravel, dirt on it "why? Please no." She kept going when her hands started doing something rather odd "what?" Her hands where starting to get bloody and rot while turning into thin air " no...no..no! NO! NO!" She screamed until she fainted not from yelling no, no it was because when she was yelling someone or something came up behind her and knocked her out.

                                                                  *************

(name) started to wake up and slowly but surely opening her eyes to see a universe of pure white, it was like space but no planes no stars no nothing or anything just you and a Void of whiteness "hello!" (name) yelled into the void 'is this heaven or hell?' (Name) wondered "umm..." (name) was starting to get annoyed but after waiting 15-20 minutes she had started to get a headache the longer she was there the stronger it got until it got the point it felt like her head was going to explode "Hello!?" (name) screams getting angry and inpatient "bring me anywhere but here! Please!" She waited a few moments to see if anything happened nothing happened "damn it!" She hissed, her headache was getting worse to the point it was hard stay awake eventually she was at the point she had enough and gave up and fainted right there. "Finally I thought she would never going to 'sleep' " 

                                                                            ********

Name was wearing the same dress from the 'incident' but clean though she didn't have her shoes just her socks when she was opening her eyes to this like blurred place like when your in the your car and you look down out of a window and everything is zooming by "what the fuck?" (Name) says to herself when she looked to the right she saw the same thing as what she saw earlier but in a second or two she saw this room like but before she could make out what she saw she passed it but she thinks she saw a person in it then she saw something familiar " wait am I going in circles? Why can't I just land somewhere!?" She asked but no one heard her. Thinking of a plan sense she is obviously not going to land any time soon after waiting a moment she moved in mid air well she did a little air swim to the left wall and when she was close enough she reached her leg to it and kicked off it

when the room showed up again and right as she put her hands in front of her face to protect herself from the crash she saw someone or something finally noticing her *crash* she had a ruff landing when she came to the floor "why the fuck is human here?" A male like voice says (name) slowly looks up to the voice it was a man with pink hair bright bold yellow eyes with word engraved but (name) didn't know what it said, he had a Pink vest and white pants that went down to his knees and for shoes well he didn't exactly have shoes but he had pink beads on it, he didn't exactly have a shirt "hey, what the fuck are you doing here?" The man asked crouching down to be somewhat level with (name) who was still on the floor "uh?" (Name) said with a confused look "don't make me say it again " he said getting aggressive "I'm sorry I don't know what you're saying" 'okay, okay where have you possibly heard this language..? Come on (name) think' (name) thought herself "what the fuck? Are you a foreigner?" he asked 'wait umm I think I know is it Japanese.' She guest as if she was answering a question she didn't exactly know in front of the class. The two words she know in Japanese is da(snake, like a rattle snake that you can see in a dessert) and niji(rainbow, like the rainbow you see on a rainy day) niji was her favorite because it was fun to say. Then her memories hit her like a train "holy shit! I'm supposed to be dead!" (name) yells while grabbing

her head "is this a dream! Oh, my god is this hell!?" (Name) continue yelling but she stop and looked down at her arm and pinched herself "okay this is not a dream" "okay I don't know what that was for but the other upper moons are going to be here soon so you better start talking" he snared at her "I am all ready here Akaza" another man says, he had Blonde hair with pitch black drips from the top of his hair down to the middle and a blood red circle where the black drip begin with rainbow eyes and also had words in them with a sly grin ​​​and he had a long sleeve shirt and white pants in his hand was a golden fan with a flower in grave. "now what beautiful lady you have here Akaza may I ask why?" "is that your name? Akaza right?" (name) asked "that is right his name is Akaza~" the new man says with a mischievous grin "you speak English!" "Yes I do, now how did you get here?" "Oh, umm" (name) mumbles "you know what I going to leave" "I don't think you will~" he says with a terrifying smirk "I do now good bye" (name) does a quick bow in respect and ran for it looking around for a door when in the corner of her eye she saw the rainbow eyes man and Akaza were on her sides in a second so she stopped in her tracks and went to the door on her right and went inside it the man smile grow wider and started laughing like a insane person "you can try to hide and run but it is useless" "okay Douma you can stop speaking that gibber " Akaza says getting annoyed not being able to understand "Oh? But I am just starting though~" Douma says while walking to the door.

*****with (name)*****

(Name) slammed the door behind her her eyes darted at the door to look for a lock "what kind of door doesn't have a fucking lock?!" (Name) yells but when she turned around to see the room she saw a man sitting he had a pony tale that went down and was barelZy not touching the floor and his hair was black with red ends he had a Purple kimono on and she was thinking she going crazy but she saw 3 pairs of eyes "okay not creepy at all" (name) says "hey um sir do you mind if I stay in here with you?" (Name) asks while sitting against the door to keep it shut "you may" he says "thank you and I am L/n (name)" she says but he keeps quite *bang!* (name) had tensed up and held the door closed tighter "why isn't there a fucking lock" (name) mumbles under her breath, something or someone had hit the door it had made a a fist size hole "Akaza don't hit the door that hard you are going to break it" Douma says to Akaza then looks back at the door then looked through the hole and brought his fist up a started knocking "open the door please" he says but got no answer "I know you are in there I hear you breathing and mumbling" after hearing this (name) eyes widen and she held her breath "hey, you don't need to pretend your

are not there, hey Kokushibo can you grab her please~" Douma asked with venom spitting out of his mouth "can't you do it" Kokushibo says to Douma "yes, I can but what fun is that~" "fine" Kokushibo answers while standing up and walking towards (name) "umm, wow you people are really tall anyways I know it is may business but what were you talking about?" Finally opening his eyes he see (name) slowly standing up against the door enough for Douma to see her through the hole "oh, there you are I knew you were in there. You aren't exactly good at hiding or running away" he tells you with a grin "shut it" "oh? What is with the attitude?" Douma asked with his grin widening it to a smirk sending goose bumps up her arms she slowly took a baby step forwards looking for a weapon she could use but Douma had saw her move so he took his changes and slid open the door quickly before she could notice but she had saw a wooden stick and ran to it

but Kokushibo and Douma saw her before she could reach it though

a person popped out of nowhere and (name) crashed into him and they both fell on to the floor with a bang "fuck!" And before she looked forward to see who it was she apologized "I'm so sorry"  but when she looked up to see who it was she man with reddish pinkish eyes with slits in the middle and had black curly like hair and was wearing a black tuxedo with a white hat that has a 

black ribbon across it "Comfortable?" He asked annoyed confused she realizing she had fell on him "I am so sorry" she apologize once again and got of him when he was standing up again he said "what is she doing here?" "We do not know" Douma said bowing with the Akaza and Kokushibo 'holy shit is this a cult' (name) thought to herself.

*****30mins later*****

"umm... You know what, can we just let them do cat and mouse chase from early instead of me just listening to you scold them and after you are done most likely going to killing me" after she done talking Douma and Akaza were surprised "oh? You should think before you speak." "Oh? YoU ShOuLd ThInK BeForE YoU sPEaK" (name) mocks him "fine, you get a 10 seconds for ahead start.​​​​​​go​​​​." After hearing this (name) started running and starts laughing "have fun trying to catch" (name) yelled between her laughter and it soon turn into quite giggles "1​​​​​,2,3,4," he started when (name) figure was gone Douma , Akaza and Kokushibo was getting ready to find her "5,6,7,8,9...10...go" it was only a dust of air left.

​​hello hope are liking the first page so far and have a lovely day ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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[infinitethree]

hey, vio! i was just curious about where your friendship-slash-rivalry-slash-archnemesis thing with jacobs began. like did you just see each other and go “i hate” orrrrrr

Vio looks affronted. “Excuse you,” he scoffs, “Jacobs is nowhere near good enough to be my arch nemesis. He’s barely good enough to drink coffee with–” “Unfortunately, I have to agree.Violet is nowhere in my league,” Jacobs sighs, folding his arms over his chest.

The alien’s eyes narrow. As expected, Jacobs adds, “Because he’s way, way below it–” “I can literally kill you,” Vio warns, “I can kill you so fast you’d have no idea what happened.”

The man across from him laughs, grinning wide enough that it’s clear that his teeth are much too sharp to be human. Usually, he has a black cloth mask on, but he has been interrupted during a meal.

It also reveals the extent of his evidently never-fully-healed stitches. The line of them that goes from under his left eye continues across his nose at an angle, then curves under his right cheek and ear.

If they continue further, it's hidden by his hair.

He looks a little more relaxed in general. The brightly colored, though often redstone-smeared, jackets he wears are instead swapped out for a nearly identical one, but in greyscale.

The unusual, void-black stones that festoon his ears seem ever so slightly less devoid of color, but that might be a trick of the light.

…Which must also explain his eyes. They’re not usually black, but they seem like they are now. His hair is less of a rich chocolate brown and closer to the shade of loamy soil.

Vio seems unphased, so anything that might be going on must either be perfectly normal or is warping reality.

Jacobs tells the alien across from him, “Go ahead. Abuse your power, see where that gets you.” “I hate you.” “No you don’t.”

Again, Vio looks offended. "Don't tell me how I feel." "Then don't tell obvious lies," Jacobs answers, taking a long sip of the…

Actually, what the fuck is he drinking? It looks alarmingly like tar, from the color to the consistency. The cup he’s using is almost comically big, too.

The alien opens his mouth, doubtlessly to argue again, but Jacobs points out, "Didn't answer the question. If you're going to experiment with defying Time, do it in a controlled way and not where I'm eating."

Vio clicks his tongue in disgust, evidently aware that Jacobs has too good a point to try to dispute.

"I knew he was an asshole from the first time I saw him and acted accordingly," the alien huffs.

Jacobs snorts, "He could tell we had something in common." "We have nothing in common–"

The man raises his eyebrows and uses his enormous cup to gesture at Vio’s own, marginally less giant cup.

It's the same stuff Jacobs is, against all logic, managing to suck through a straw and not immediately die from ingesting.

"Coffee doesn't count," Vio says, unknowingly solving the mystery. He rolls his bright purple eyes and adds,  "That happened later."

"Yeah, but you used present tense." Voice flat, Vio refutes, "A slip of the tongue. Just like a knife is going to slip into your neck if you don't stop testing me."

Jacobs grins again. 

Evidently, Vio is happy to have something else he can focus on.

With a pleased, smug-seeming flick of his tail, he answers, "Thank you. It's nice to know some people can appreciate me."

It's Jacobs' turn to be annoyed. "Flattery, novelty, or poor taste. Also, way to sell your not-sons short." "They’re not my kids!" "Hence the not part."

Instead of arguing that point further, Vio tells him, "Jealousy suits you. Keep being mad, it's doing wonders for my mood."

Rolling his eyes, Jacobs scoffs, "I'm not jealous, I'm pointing out that you got a blind fan. You don't have a style, you have neon purple coats with inverse amounts of stains and embroidery, some jewelry, and nothing else of note. I think Aver would laugh his ass off if he heard it being called a style."

Vio grins wide enough to show the veritable daggers he has for teeth. "Sounds like jealousy and pettiness. Can't even win an argument without dragging others in, huh?" The sip he takes of his tar-like substance, evidently some abomination that he and Jacobs claim to be coffee, is very smug. "Tsk, tsk. I expected better from you."

For a long moment, Jacobs stares at the alien.

Then he twists a band on his wrist and swipes at the air a few times.

Vio's smugness immediately fades. "Don't you fucking dare–"

There's a spiteful grin as Jacobs asks out loud, "Hey, Aver, does what Violet wears count as a style?" 

A wild bark of familiar laughter sounds out. "Fuck no! He's fuckin' lucky fashion crimes can't get someone thrown in jail here. Probably like that because he rigged the fuckin' system–"

"I reformed a paranoid, war-torn hellhole with extremely obvious corruption and mental instability!" Vio's argument gets another snicker, but otherwise ignored. Aver asks, "What'd he even fuckin' do that made you ask?"

With all the smug glee of a kid tattling to a teacher, Jacobs answers, "One of the watchers claimed that Violet has a great style." 

Making a noise of understanding, Aver replies, "Ah, so one of 'em is fuckin' insane. Good to know, thanks for the warning. Not-Dad–" "Still not your dad!" "That's why there's a fuckin' 'not' in front of it, dumbass. Anyway, don't believe everything you fuckin' hear. Sometimes…people are wrong."

There's a pause, and then Aver continues, "Or lying. Might just be lying. Who knows; maybe the Observers or whatever they're fuckin' called are just laughing at you."

The expression Vio has is entirely offended. "Excuse you, I have plenty of style–" "Big man, the only reason you have coats without fuckin' stains is that I threatened to snowglobe you if some didn't stay clean."

Vio mutters, "Which is uncalled for, I have formalwear–" "Don't you fuckin' dare bring that fuckin' crime up," Aver says, a worrying hint of hysteria in his voice.

"You're the one that made it!" Aver, hysterical note getting more prominent, snaps, "Practically with a fuckin' knife to my throat! You made it fuckin' clear you were doing it just to fuck with me! Ooh, Aver, I'm gonna be a fuckin' asshole and make you pick between a literal fuckin costume, something based on a fuckin' anime cosplay, or just wear a normal-ass fuckin' outfit! Fuck you for wanting me to look nice!"

Vio huffs, but he’s grinning. "Maybe that's normal ceremonial attire for my culture, you don't know."

A moment of silence passes. Then another.

Then with an alarming amount of calmness, "Hey Jacobs, where are you and how much can you stop Vio from running for his miserable fuckin' life?"

Visibly and audibly pleased by this turn, the mechanic answers, "His house, and very little. I can set off your stasis chamber, though."

With a nervous chuckle, Vio tries, "Uh– surely you have a lot on your plate. You wouldn't take the time to come here just to stab me, right?"

Very much not kidding, Aver answers, "Better fuckin' run, bitch."

Not bothering with any further attempts to dissuade either of them, Vio scrambles out of his chair and books it.

Meanwhile, Jacobs gets up and calmly makes his way to the stasis chambers in the basement.

"That was a good talk," he cheerfully says out loud. "Thanks…Chime, was it? I think you're very wrong, but I'll let it slide because Violet is about to be in a surprise manhunt."

[cup-of-hot-worm-milk]

I think Izzy wanted to break the cycle.

(SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 AHEAD) Also forgive me if this jumps around the place a little bit because I am not good at keeping my thoughts cohesive.

I think in Izzy's mind (based on him bringing up Stede to Ed and how he encouraged Stede to yell at him on when captured and jailed on Zheng's ship) his jealousy and hatred towards Stede was the domino effect that inadvertently led Edward to becoming the monster that he was.

Izzy thought he wanted the old Blackbeard back but really he just wanted co-dependency. He wanted to love Ed and have Ed without anyone else to properly talk or rely on. He wanted to know Ed better than anyone because he wanted Ed to belong to him.

(Remember in season one ep 5 where the idea of free and shared loved was foreign to him?

Izzy: "I could spill all your beans. You've been a proper little seductress, haven't you? Black Pete, Fang... Who else is there?"

[Lucius informs Black Pete that he drew Fang naked. Black Pete doesn't care; compliments his drawing].

Lucius: "See? We don't own each other.")

But Ed feels broken because Stede's love came without strings attached. He did things for Ed because he wanted too, he offered his friendship to the man even after learning that Ed was going to kill him. There was no dependency on each other, just trust and sharing.

Ed's breakdown over losing Stede is layered - it's not just losing someone he liked, it's losing someone who genuinely wanted to indulge and enrich Ed in his dreams and desires. It's losing someone who didn't scoff or question why Ed wanted to try on pretty clothes or learn dining etiquette but instead actively supported him in doing those things. It's losing someone who, perhaps for the first time since his mother, Ed could count on not needing to be someone else just to please. He didn't have to be the fearsome Blackbeard or the asshole from Hornigolds crew. He could just be Edward Teach.

But things happened - Stede was hesitant and then almost got shot. Ed became depressed and scared that no one could ever love him. The Revenge crew minus Lucius, Jim and Frenchie were abandoned and Izzy was permanently injured.

And here I think is where Izzy became hopeful that he had a chance with Ed again because, hey, that man is going to need someone to help fill the hole in his heart and look, his most loyal follower is standing right here [missing a toe but whatever] ready to support whatever orders his captain may have.

But instead of moving on from Stede, Ed just began to write the most violent, hateful, and tragic suicide letter. He took the loyalty and love of his crew and twisted it into fear. His first mate who supported him was now his outlet for his fury and despair - a person that Ed wanted to push away and terrify but didn't have the guts to permanently remove because he didn't want to be alone.

Ed tried to make Izzy hateful. He punished and hurt him. He belittled him.

But all he's done, I think, is make Izzy realise that hate does not resolve problems. Izzy tried to bring Ed back with reminders of Stede and his gentleness. There's a certain parallel that could be made between Ed talking about Stede's tactics to Izzy in season one compared to Izzy discussing them with Ed in season two.

Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is: Ed wanted hatred. He wanted fear. He wanted others to loathe and leave him but was too fearful to do it the straightforward way so instead he chose violence.

And Izzy doesn't want anymore violence. They dealt with Ed and now he just wants to move on. No more rage or hate. Let the man who truly wanted to best for Ed to remember him in the better light. Let the memory of a Ed who wasn't Blackbeard live on in the man who loved him. Let Ed have one person who will always want him, even after he is dead.

I suppose it's a gift to Stede and Ed in a way. Izzy's last act of devotion. He loved Blackbeard and so, here. To the man who Ed loved so much, I won't let you become miserable like him. I'll lie to you so you can have your fantasy.

Izzy lying to Stede saying he stabbed his painting to spare his feelings and make him think Ed was still a good person and didn't want to cause him any harm while being in unimaginable pain and barely conscious from having a limb amputated without any anesthesia all after being the reason they basically broke up in the first place. little man, you are so weird I want to study you under a microscope

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 51

*Warning Adult Content*

Act Brave

When Everett was taken by The Fallen Angels, he was still treated like a human being. 

The same can't be said about his experience with The Jackals.

After he was snatched during the drop-off, having been allowed only a glimpse of his father as proof of life, a member knocked him out and threw his unconscious body in the trunk of their car without thought or care.

They are proving to be as savage as the rumors make them out to be but none of it comes as a surprise.

Everett knew exactly what he was getting into when he decided to do what they asked.

So, there isn't much he can do now but stay positive and make the best of his new home... a dark, cold cell.

The stale air is thick with the scent of mildew and something rotten.

He hasn't eaten or had a drink since The Jackals dragged him down here and locked him up,and to be honest, he'd rather starve to death than accept anything from those men.

'At least I'm not alone.'

In the dim light filtering through a barred window, he catches sight of a spider spinning its silken trap in a corner.

He wonders how long it will take for the creature to realize this place is devoid of anything worth catching.

"Is he awake?"

"Yes. He's been awake, Sir."

The sound of multiple footsteps coming down the corridor leading to his cell immediately jolts him out of his self-pity spiral.

He stands from the hard stone floor with a blank expression on his face, his parched throat tightening, and his heart racing.

A tall, heavyset older man with salt-and-pepper hair and calculating dark eyes stops in front of the cell.

His suit looks expensive and his smile is menacing.

Only one person would care enough to pay him a visit like this... Russell, the President of The Jackals MC.

"I gave you what you asked for," Everett mutters, his voice raspy from disuse.

"What more do you want from me? Why won't you just let me go?"

"Let you go? That's hilarious."

Russell's smile doesn't reach his dark eyes, which are currently scanning Everett with way too much interest.

Instinct forces him to take several steps back away from the cell's door.

"If you came down here to torture me or kill me, please don't drag it out," Everett snaps.

"This has gone on long enough and I'm over it. Surely you are too."

"Feisty little thing, aren't you? Now I see why my son took a liking to you," Russell chuckles, amused.

"I actually came down here to inform you that a deal has been made. A trade, if you will."

'No. They can't come here. Goddamn it, Knox. Just let me go.'

"Explain," Everett demands, his voice hitching as panic nibbles at the edges of his composure.

"Take some of that attitude out of your voice and I will," Russell orders, his tone equally harsh.

"Now." 

'Fucking asshole.'

"Please, explain."

"Good boy. Now, the Angels have agreed to a trade... you for Finley Monroe. The man we all know is responsible for my son's death... the one you cradled as he bled out and took his last breath in your arms. The one who you so easily turned your back on."

Everett's mind races back to that fateful night.

He remembers the weight of Shaun's dying body, the smell of all that blood that lingered in the air.

He remembers the distraught look in Shaun's blue eyes as the final remnants of his soul left his body.

Never, ever, will he forget the man's death... no, his murder but at the same time, both Finn and Shaun willingly chose to live this lifestyle.

Unfortunately, fate doesn't give a fuck about what you want, neither do consequences.

"Fuck you. I didn't turn my back on anyone."

Everett's bottom lip trembles as the guilt he thought he'd cleared resurfaces.

"You have no idea what I..."

"Save your excuses and lies," Russell shouts, cutting him off.

"It will forever sicken me how quickly you turned into the Angels' pet rather than come to me to help seek justice for your lover, for my son."

Everett tries to defend himself but Russell pulls a gun from within his suit jacket, the barrel gleaming dully in the low light.

"I didn't come here to dredge up the past."

"Then why are you here?" Everett's voice trembles despite his efforts to keep it steady.

"Because I'm not a stupid man and neither is Gavin. We both know a trade will never happen."

Everett blinks, confused.

"What the hell are you saying?"

"I'm saying... the only reason you're even here is because I couldn't get any of my men close enough to snatch Gavin's Ol' lady. This war would've been over a long time ago had she been captured. Unfortunately for you, you turned out to be the next best thing... their shiny, new little pet that they can't help but protect for whatever pointless fucking reason."

"It's not what you think. They won't come for me..."

"Oh, I think they will because Knox will. He's your new toy, right? The most unstable one in that fucking MC," Russell laughs.

"He will come to rescue you and when one comes, they all will follow. All the better for me."

"What are you planning, you asshole?"

"This deal, the trade we agreed on, I have no doubt they'll ambush me when they arrive, which is why you and I will be leaving long before they get here. I'll have someone handle Finn and then I'll be done with this shit town. I should've left a long time ago."

Everett knows Russell is right.

There's no way The Fallen Angels will give up Finn for him and he doesn't want them to.

So this is all one big ambush set up on both sides.

The war is finally coming to an explosive end... but not for him, apparently.

"You said we would be leaving? Where the fuck do you plan on taking me?" Everett questions.

"I found a buyer who's ready to pay top dollar for a sweet little thing like you."

Russell takes a step closer, the gun held casually at his side.

"Did you know you're worth five million dollars? I've never been able to bargain that high before. I suppose they plan on keeping you around for a long time."

"Oh, God."

A chill runs down Everett's spine and he wraps his arms around himself as if to ward off the nausea churning in his gut.

"You traffic people?"

"It's somewhat of a new business venture I'm exploring," Russell answers, casually.

"Makes me way more money than my worthless MC ever did."

"So, what, then?"

Anger builds in Everett's chest, temporarily overriding his fear.

"You're just gonna up and leave your people behind? What about all the men who went out to do your bidding and died for you? You're the fucking President. You're supposed to be leading them, not abandoning them. Shaun would..."

"My leaving was the plan all along until your fucking Angels ruined it," Russell's voice cracks like a whip and Everett flinches.

"Shaun was meant to take my place after I announced my retirement... but Finley Monroe took him from me. My plans to move on died with my son. I fucking started this MC because I knew it'd bring in a shit ton of money. I never gave a damn about being President. I was only ever in this for the money and connections but thanks to you and your Angels, I'm now running low on both. So it's time to start anew and you're going to help me."

The air grows more suffocating by the second.

Everett desperately tries to come up with a plan to get himself out of this mess or at least stall Russell long enough until The Fallen Angels arrive but the terror and exhaustion leave him drawing blanks.

"I won't put up a fight when you take me," Everett bargains, his voice quivering.

"But please... if you really don't care about any of this, then destroy the club footage from that night. Please don't turn it over to the cops."

Russell raises a brow but says nothing, so Everett presses on.

"The Jackals and The Fallen Angels have both lost so much. Too much. Gavin's wife... his Ol' lady... is pregnant and due any day. I know this means nothing to you but for the sake of that innocent child, please don't take their father away... because that's exactly what an investigation into that night will do. Please don't put it through the same pain you've unfortunately been dealt."

It's a last-ditch effort to appeal to whatever shred of humanity might linger in Russell.

'You have to feel something, you bastard.'

Something flickers in Russell's expression, a crack in the terrifying mask.

For a moment, Everett dares to hope he's gotten through to him but then Russell bursts out laughing, the sound bouncing harshly off the cell walls.

Everett's heart sinks.

"What's so fucking funny?"

"The fact that those poor fucks must have been shitting themselves this entire time..." Russell wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling.

"I got rid of that footage a few weeks after I viewed it."

"You... what?"

"I had to pay off the pigs to stall the investigation so I could seek vengeance myself once I discovered Shaun was killed by an Angel. When my money started to run low, I stopped paying them, which meant The Jackals and I were now fair game to being investigated, too. So I destroyed the footage."

A tiny bit of hope blossoms in Everett.

If Russell is telling the truth, then it means the cops were playing The Jackals and The Fallen Angels.

They were in this for the money too, never loyalty but with the footage gone and after this war ends, neither club will have any leverage against the other.

"Unlock the cell," Russell commands the nearby guard.

"He needs to drink."

"No..." Everett stumbles back until he hits the wall.

He flattens himself against it as if he could melt into it.

"I don't want a drink. I don't want anything from you."

"I'm not one of your Angels, child. I don't give a damn what you want."

"Please, Russell, don't do this. You don't have to do this..." Everett's mind whirls.

He should fight, scream, do something but he's not sure he has the strength left to resist.

Exhaustion wraps around him like an inescapable blanket, anxiety clinging to his skin like the cold sweat beading on his forehead.

"Willingly or by force, you will drink," Russell asserts, raising the gun and pointing it at him.

"Right now is not the time for you to put on another front and act brave. I don't have much more time to waste, so I encourage you to be smart and do as you're told."

The guard, a bulky figure decked out in combat gear and a mask, unlocks the cell door and steps inside.

He extends what looks to be a normal, unopened bottle of water toward Everett but it might as well be poison for all the trust Everett can muster.

He shakes his head, lips pressed into a thin line, refusing to take it.

"Drink. The. Water," Russell orders again but Everett doesn't budge a muscle.

"Okay. Fine. You want to be a brat, then I'll treat you like one."

A nod from Russell is all it takes for the guard to spring into action.

A brief tussle ensues after he kicks Everett in the stomach, following up with a hard right to the jaw.

On his hands and knees, Everett coughs for air, allowing the perfect opportunity for the guard to force his mouth open.

He struggles and chokes as the strange tasting liquid rushes down his throat.

Half the bottle is gone before Russell finally calls off his lackey.

"It only takes a few seconds to kick in," Russell says, almost cheerfully.

Through watery eyes, Everett watches the man enter the cell as he slumps to the filthy floor.

His voice comes out weak, barely above a whisper.

"What... did you give me?"

Russell kneels by Everett, his free hand disturbingly tender as it brushes hair from Everett's face.

Everett's vision blurs and spins.

He wants to recoil from the man's touch but his body is frozen and unresponsive, paralyzed by whatever drug is flooding his system.

"It's just a little something to keep you relaxed during our plane ride," Russell whispers.

"Sleep well."

Everett's last coherent thought before the darkness pulls him under is his hoping that Knox will be able to forgive him for all the trouble he's caused and that The Fallen Angels will come out victorious.

They must.