#russet was the only guy I ever liked from that old team so he gets to stay. now with cool gender swag!

[catgirlkirigiri]

The three (3) people who liked the a single drawing I posted of this guy in 2019 are gonna be thrilled that I’m bringing Russet back. Transcript under the cut cause my handwriting is not great

Notes by weapon (top to bottom, left to right):

Blade folds out ->

(Overcomplicate design later)

Stabilizing blade ->

<- Splits in two ->

<- <- Obligatory gun

<- Folds into handle for gun mode

Bio/info on the right:

Russet Fox

he/him fox faunus

Semblance: invisibility in darkness

Born into a bandit tribe, Russet always had a knack for stealth and combat. He chose to become a huntsman not out of the goodness of his heart, but to use his skill set in a way that avoids jail time.

[hellcheeriest]

i bet he's never had a backstreet guy

Twitch Streamer!Eddie x Single Father!Steve

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: We begin to learn of Chrissy's struggle with her sexuality, Eddie makes a big decision in his career, Steve is a sick, sick man (only for eddie munson), platonic!Hellcheer my beloved!! Robin struggles with close proximity to the girl she likes.

Content warnings: Slight age gap (Steve is 31, Eddie is 26) Steve feels as though he's too old to be acting like he is (I know 31 isn't old! Steve just grew up too fast as a teen dad, so he feels like his mind is beyond his years.)

A/N: Second Chapter yay! I dont really have much to say other than the fact that i spent like 6 hours straight writing this while getting distracted, and i havent read through this so i apologize for any mistakes or innacuracies you may find. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

w/c: 4,850+

January, 2023

CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

Chrissy shivered as the cool, mid-winter air infiltrated her room. She’d forgotten to shut her window last night while she was cooking, and the goosebumps on her skin had her shivering with regret. Her radio whispered beside her, the volume purposefully low as to lul her to sleep, an unknown host forecasting the weather.

Chrissy pulled off her sleeping mask, her eyes still closed as she tried to wake fully, letting thoughts of last night's stream come to her. She smiled at the memories from just last night. Gareth and Robin’s banter, Austin’s quiet but witty remarks, Eddie and herself teaming up to embarrass an easily flustered Jeff.

Robin’s raspy laugh filled her foggy brain. The girl had been complaining, again, about how she lacked a girlfriend. It wasn't uncommon, their friend group was her only safe space as a queer person, the area she lived in being a prominently homophobic area.

It made Chrissy feel different, though. She’d known she had always admired the girl, from the top of her brown bob, to the bottom of her cherry red converse, there was nothing about Robin that Chrissy didn’t find she was unable to admire. She was funny, and she was pretty in a way Chrissy hadn’t ever seen or could even describe. She didn’t really know what that meant.

The couple times they’d been able to meet in person were the times when Chrissy admired Robin the most. Seeing her through her eyes first hand instead of through the lens of a camera. They were also the only times she could experience their height difference, Chrissy having to look up just to make eye contact.

Chrissy sighed heavily, bringing her sleep heavy arms up to rub at her eyes. Her alarm clock had gone off minutes ago now, luckily her online classes wouldn’t be disrupted if she slept in, but for her own sake she decided to get up. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and startling when her phone began to ring from her bedside table. She groaned, grabbing it and sighing when she sees the caller ID.

“What do you want?” Chrissy grumbled.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Eddie laughed on the other line.

“You always catch me at a bad time.” She smiled despite her light hearted annoyance. “Back to my first question, what do you want?”

“Can you meet me at the diner today, or are you busy?” Eddie asked, breathless, and Chrissy could tell he was getting dressed as they spoke.

“I’m free. Nine o’clock?”

“Nine-thirty?”

“Even better.” Chrissy hummed. “See you then.”

“Bye, Chrissy.” Eddie replied, dragging out the words. Chrissy laughed and hung up, putting her phone back down on her night stand, spending another moment on her bed stretching before getting up.

She padded along the hardwood floor of her apartment to her bathroom. She did her skin care, brushed her teeth and hair, and pulled her russet hair into a ponytail with a white scrunchie. She used her finger to press on her signature blue eyeshadow, a few quick strokes of blush and mascara, and a dab of a pink lipstick covered with a cherry lip gloss.

Back in her bedroom, she stalked over to her closet to find her outfit. She went with an oversized and chunky white turtleneck sweater over a green satin skirt that reached the middle of her shin. She grabbed her black, shiny Mary Jane’s and put them on over her frilly, white socks.

Finally she topped off the outfit with her gold ‘16’ necklace, a graduation gift from her parents, before doing a one over of her outfit in the mirror. After confirming with herself that it was good, Chrissy turned around to look at her clock.

9:04AM.

Just enough time to drive to the diner Eddie wanted to meet at. It was across the city they both lived in, but it was Eddie’s favourite and he was paying, so she wouldn’t complain.

Chrissy picked up her phone again to see two new messages. One from Eddie and one from Robin.

Ed

ready when u r :)

Rob <3

morning chris!  Hope you have a good day <3

Chrissy felt her stomach turn as she read the second message, and she bit her lip as she sent a quick reply. She shoved down the warm feeling in her gut, and typed out a response to Eddie. After it was sent, she put her phone in the sleek pocket of her skirt, and grabbed her purse before she left her apartment. She took the elevator down to the first floor, waving “Hi,” to her neighbours before leaving the building. 

Chrissy got to her car and felt her phone buzz against her thigh, the custom notification sound letting her know it was Eddie, and she got in the driver's seat to begin the drive to the diner. 

EDDIE MUNSON

Eddie stood outside of the diner, his hands in his pockets as the Chicago wind blew through his hair. His nerves made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and his fingers fiddled with his rings. It only took minutes for Chrissy’s car to park in the spot in front of Eddie. She got out, and rushed over to Eddie to pull him down into a hug. Eddie laughed as her arms reached up and around his neck, letting his own wrap around her waist. They swayed back and forth for a moment before pulling away enough to press their cheeks together, making an audible “Mwah.”

“It feels like it’s been so long since I saw you in person last.” Chrissy whined as they pulled away completely, grabbing hands and walking into the diner.

“I know,” Eddie smiled down at her. “I missed you, too.”

They waited for a hostess to seat them, and as soon as they were led to a booth and finished ordering their drinks, they burst into conversation. They talked about anything they could, and Eddie found himself purposefully procrastinating the one thing he had partially asked Chrissy to come meet him for. Soon, after their waitress came by and took their order, they ran out of things to talk about, and Eddie knew it was time.

“So,” He started. “How do you think I’d go about… face revealing?” Eddie asked, almost timidly. Chrissy on the other hand was ecstatic.

“You want to face reveal?” She shrieked with a huge smile. Her joy was contagious, and Eddie could feel his own face break into a grin. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make a big deal about it.” Eddie hid his smile with a piece of hair.

“But it is a big deal! You finally want to show off that gorgeous face of yours!” Chrissy leant over the table to pinch Eddie’s cheeks to emphasise her words, sitting back down as the waitress returned with their food. Chrissy grabbed a hashbrown off of Eddie’s plate as he took one of her pieces of french toast. “It’s exciting!” She whispered.

“Okay, okay!” Eddie laughed as he cut into his pancakes. “I just… want it to be casual, I think, and I want you to be there.” He stabbed the piece he cut apart with his fork, and shovelled it into his mouth. Chrissy “Awe’d” and smiled with soft eyes at Eddie’s words.

“Well,” Chrissy started. “I guess we’ve got an important stream to plan.”

ROBIN BUCKLEY

Music blasted from the bathroom of Robin’s home. Chappell Roan’s Pink Pony Club could be heard all through the house. Inside, she was singing along as she pulled her eye down to put eyeliner on her waterline.

“Robin! Turn that down!” Her mother shouted and hit her fists against the bathroom door.

“God, Mom, Okay!” She shouted back, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her phone. She turned the volume down, and stared at her home screen. It was a picture of her and Chrissy they had gotten the week their whole friend group decided to meet up for the first time. Her hair was longer, being cut into a short bob now, and Chrissy’s hair was the opposite: shorter than her current length. They looked happy. 

Robin sighed as she pulled up her messenger, sending a quick good morning text to Chrissy before putting her phone back down on the counter.

Perhaps she’d been harbouring a crush on the blonde for a long time. Can you blame her? Chrissy was perfect in every way. She was beautiful, funny and devastatingly kind. She hadn't even changed how she acted around her when Robin came out! Which should be the bare minimum, Robin knows this. She just wasn’t used to the amount of acceptance her friends showed.

Only problem? Chrissy was definitely straight. She’d only ever talked about past boyfriends, and never expressed any romantic interest in women. Eddie would tell her not to lose hope, though that was often hard. Plus, she lived like a thousand miles away from each other. They’ve seen each other in person twice since they met four years ago, and long distance relationships almost never work out.

She shook her head to dispel any thought about the girl. She would be going shopping today after getting her paycheck. Working at an old, shitty, video rental store may suck, but it did pay well and she needed to feed her vinyl collection. Hopefully it would be enough to distract her.

STEVE HARRINGTON

“You, your sex is on fire.” Steve heard being sung from the TV. He recognized the voice as the streamer Dustin had taken such a liking to. Steve left his office and walked towards the living room and he could see the stream on the large screen. This time, it was live camera footage that showed a young blonde woman instead of the gameplay he was used to seeing. The man’s, Eddie’s, voice was actually really nice. It was husky and raspy, the clear tenor tone sending shivers down Steve’s spine. Steve leaned on the door frame as he watched and listened.

“The dark of the alley, the breaking of day.” Eddie continued.The girl in the camera seemed to be having a good time, swaying back and forth with the music. Occasionally, she would lay her head on the T-shirt clad shoulder next to her, and a heavily ringed hand would raise up and hold the side of her head.

“Are they dating?” Steve found himself asking. He mentally kicked himself. Why did he care if some random internet personalities were dating?

“Crap! Dad, you startled me!” Dustin clutched at his chest dramatically and Steve shook his head. “No, they’re just really good friends.” He turned down the volume of the TV and Steve came and sat on the couch next to his son.

“Oh, so like you and this Suzie I'm always hearing about?” Steve poked Dustin’s shoulder repeatedly until his son grabbed his wrist.

“Dad!” The boy exclaimed as he flushed red. He turned away and covered his face, and Steve smiled as he rubbed Dustin’s back. The light sound of the blonde girl laughing brought their attention back to the TV.

“Wow, Chris. I can’t believe you’d spread this propaganda about me.” The girl threw her head back and cackled. Steve remembered a ‘Chrissy’ that Dustin was talking about, this must be her. “She just referred to me as a ladies man as if I got any play in high school. I was a theatre kid, Cunningham, try again.”

“You wouldn’t believe the things I heard about you during lunch at the cheerleader’s table, Ed.” She reached over, past the camera's view and Steve guessed she was grabbing at Eddie’s head. “If they weren’t waiting for you to ask them out, you would’ve been drowning in bitches.”

“Hardy har har. Yeah, okay.” Two larger hands pushed smaller ones back into frame. “Anyways, guys. We have some big news!” The facecam turned off, and Steve felt Dustin tense next to him. “As some of you might’ve heard, they’re holding a convention in a smaller town in Indiana called Hawkins.

“So, we just wanted to let you all know that me, Chrissy, Robin and the guys are going to be there. So since you’re going to have to see me there, I figured I should…” Eddie’s voice got tense as he spoke, and then the camera turned back on. This time, though, it wasn’t the blonde girl. It was a man.

A man with dark, shoulder-length curls that were frizzy, but nevertheless striking. His skin was pale, and contrasted against the pink of his lips. His eyes were big, and a deep brown, dark enough to where Steve couldn't see a pupil. They were surrounded by long eyelashes and it seemed as though he was wearing eyeliner. The neckline of his shirt was cut and jagged, and exposed his prominent collar bones and the tattoo that lay inked into his skin. He was devastatingly pretty. He smiled, and turned to read the chat that was going a million miles a minute, all messages sharing feelings of shock and awe.

“Thanks, guys. Hoo-kay, I’m shaking. We’re okay, we’re okay.” Eddie pulled his hair behind his shoulders, revealing the plethora of piercings on both ears. “But, yeah. Next month from February twenty-sixth to March 2nd. I’ll be putting more information on my twitter, along with prices.” Chrissy came back into view. Behind Eddie, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her chin on the top of his head.

“Can’t wait to see you guys!” Chrissy exclaimed, and Eddie laughed as he reached up to grab her arms. Steve noticed they had matching bracelets.

“Keep a look out on instagram and twitter, photo dump coming soon.” The two waved at the camera, and sang out a long “Bye,” before they were gone and the stream was over. Steve and Dustin stayed frozen, and Steve knew Dustin was also in shock after seeing Eddie. 

Though they were in shock for two different reasons.

“Dad, they’re coming here for a convention! We have to go. Can we? Please?” Dustin pleaded and Steve thought for a moment.

“I’ll see what I can do, bud.” Steve answered and Dustin grinned before running to his room. Steve pulled out his phone and looked for Eddie’s twitter. When he clicked on the account, he found the link in his bio that led to the convention information, and when he scrolled down he found pictures already posted.

Most of them were group photos, with Chrissy, another girl almost the same height as Eddie, as well as three more guys Steve assumed were his other friends. He scrolled down further, and found a post-concert photo with Chrissy. They were both obviously worn out, and Steve found the drastic difference in the way they dressed funny. 

Eddie was all leather, and sharp edges, while Chrissy was pink and bubbly.

Steve internally scolded himself for the way his stomach churned when he found a particular photo of Eddie by himself. He was kneeling on a stage, a microphone in one hand, and the other holding the fingers of whoever took the photo. He wore a loose, black fishnet top over a black tank with torn up, black skinny jeans. His hair was messier than he’d seen in the other photos, and his face was slightly flushed in a way that suggested he was probably drunk. He smirked in a smug way that had Steve feeling as if he were a high schooler seeing his hallway crush. At the realisation, he quickly scrolled back to the top of profile and clicked the link, his face red. 

He shouldn't be feeling this way about some guy on a screen, much less a twenty-something year old. Steve should know better at his grown age.

He filled out his information, and when looking at the full price he sighed. He could already hear his wallet begging for mercy.

—

TIME SKIP

—

February 2023

EDDIE MUNSON

This was crazy.

Just a month ago did he live stream his face to the internet which sparked creativity in the artistic part of his group of fans. He was tagged in a bunch of drawing’s of him, as well as video edits to quite suggestive audios. It was strange, Eddie thought, to be praised like this for your appearance. But, if he was honest, he wasn't complaining.

Now, he was mentally preparing for the convention. Eddie wasn’t entirely a social person, he’d much rather be with his circle of friends and maybe a few others. This was an entirely different level. He sat on the bed in the hotel room he and Austin would be sharing. Jeff and Gareth were in the room across from them and Robin and Chrissy’s room were down the hall. The last pair excited Eddie.

Robin often confided in him when she was especially upset about her situation, and Eddie could sympathise. Falling for straight people was never fun. But, Eddie wasn’t entirely sure that Chrissy was straight. He never pressed her on the issue though. Poor girl. She’ll never know what hit her.

 Robin had been accidentally flirting with the girl since they arrived in Hawkins, and Eddie had to stifle laughter when it backfired. Robin would shoot him a glare and a lighthearted middle-finger.

Chrissy didn’t seem to catch on despite her array of ex-boyfriends that probably acted the same way around her before they dated. Though, Eddie guessed he couldn’t blame her. Robin’s attempts at flirting could be compared to the sight of a dumpster fire.

Eddie sighed and laid back on his bed, bored and left without anything to do. Not like he really wanted to do anything. Flying sucked, he hated aeroplanes and he was always left exhausted after taking one. 

But he was also insanely hungry. He could probably order in but he did not feel like talking over the phone and Hawkins seemed like a pretty old-fashioned town so god knows if any of the restaurants here have any apps he could use. Whatever. Eddie sighed before he walked over to the door and pulled on his converse and tucked the laces into the sides of his shoes. He grabbed his room key and left to try and find some damn lunch

CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM

She couldn’t do it.

Chrissy sat on the edge of the single bed that was in her and Robin’s shared room. She hadn’t seen Robin for a year and a half, and so far everything has been great! But Robin makes her nervous in ways she can’t explain. She didn’t have much more time to think as the door burst open to reveal the taller girl holding all of her bags in her arms and her phone in her mouth. She quickly dropped the bags and took her phone out of her mouth. She was completely out of breath as she reached into her pockets to pull out her inhaler.

“Oh my god, Robin!” Chrissy rushed over, picking up a couple of Robin's bags and bringing them further into the room.

“Hey, Chris.” Robin said, still exasperated, and her wispy tone made Chrissy shiver. She reached up and pulled Robin into a hug. “Missed you.” Robin whispered into Chrissy’s hair as she returned the embrace.

“You just saw me like, ten minutes ago!” Chrissy laughed, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach.

“I know.” Robin replied as she pulled away, still slightly out of breath.

“Did you run up here? What happened?”

“Apparently the elevator shut down after you guys got up here, so I had to take the stairwell with all my bags.” Robin whined as she walked over to the bed and flopped down onto the mattress. She hadn’t seemed to have noticed the fact there was only one bed, yet.

“Um, so,” Chrissy started. “We only have one bed in here.” Robin lifted her head and looked to the other side of the room, then back to Chrissy.

“O-oh.” Robin bit her lip nervously. “I could sleep on the couch if it would make you more comfortable.”

“No!” Chrissy almost yelped. “I mean, no. That’s fine! It’s big enough for us to share.” She was sure her cheeks were bright pink. She got on the bed next to Robin, the other girl sitting up.

“Yeah, that sounds fine.” Robin rubbed the back of her neck.

“I’m perfectly comfortable sleeping next to you Robbie, I promise.” Chrissy said sincerely, grabbing Robin’s hand and holding it softly. She looked up at Robin, and took this time to admire her the same way she had so many times before.

Robin didn’t often stream with her camera on, and she didn’t facetime the group so Chrissy didn’t get to see her face much. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved Robin's features.

Her soft skin that was splattered with light brown freckles she wanted to count, her soft jawline and the thin dark circles underneath her gorgeous eyes. Then there was her hair. Her soft, wavy locks that Chrissy constantly wanted to run her fingers through if the other would let her. 

"Hey, did you think we could see if one of the guys would pay for our lunches?" Robin said, a grin on her face. Chrissy giggled and squeezed Robin's hand. 

"Abso-fucking-lutely." Chrissy smiled deviously and the two left Robin's belongings to be unpacked later. Right now, they had some boys to mooch off of.

STEVE HARRINGTON

Oh boy.

It was one day away from the first day of the convention Steve hesitantly bought tickets for. He and Dustin were all set to see the panel Eddie and his friends would be at and Steve’s bank account was about to kick the bucket. Dustin was excited, though, and that was all Steve needed to know that this was worth it.

He couldn’t lie, this was slightly for him too. Ever since he’d laid eyes on the man Dustin called his idol, he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Steve’s known for a while that he liked guys. Before Dustin was born, he’d even dated a few, but he’s not sure he’s felt this way in a long time just based on someone's looks. The critical part of his mind scolded him.

'This is your son's favourite streamer you're thinking about!'

'His looks might deceive him. He could be a total douche.'

'Is he really all that?'

Yes. Eddie really was 'all that.' His personality was large and he was really, really attractive. 

'He probably has a girlfriend. You don't even know if he likes guys.'

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes. He would have to start on dinner soon for Dustin, Dustin's "friend" Suzie, and himself soon. He could contemplate this all later. Maybe tomorrow at the convention, but hopefully not ever again. He stood up from his chair in his office and closed his computer. He walked down the hallway and all that could be heard was the tv in Dustin's room. 

Suspicious. 

He walked further and leaned closer to Dustin's door that sat open by three inches. After another moment Steve pushed the door open fully to see Suzie tucked into Dustin's side as they lay on his bed, seemingly watching a movie. 

"Dad! What the hell!" The two jumped and Suzie gripped onto Dustin's shirt. 

"Calm down Dustin, I'm just asking what you guys want for dinner." Dustin was red with embarrassment and Suzie just snickered. 

"Whatever's fine, dad." He answered. "And learn to knock!" He shouted on Steve's way out. Steve snorted and made his way to the kitchen now with three things on his mind. 

Whatever was going on between his son and this girl. (Which he totally predicted, by the way.) 

What he was making for dinner. 

An insanely pretty streamer he was probably too old to be gawking over.

Dinner was only going a little awkwardly. Suzie sat quietly, eating the quiche Steve had made. Dustin glared at his father from across the circular table and Steve tried his hardest not to make a face back. 

"So, Suzie. How's school been for you?" Steve asked as he fiddled with his fork. 

"Dad." Dustin groaned. 

"What?" Steve drew out the 'a.' "I'm just asking how her classes are." 

"Well, my grades are just fine. I enjoy my academics a lot actually! I only wish I could say the same for Dusty." She smiled at the boy whose face dropped. 

"Snitch!" Dustin accused and Suzie laughed, Dustin's scowl softened at the sight before it hardened and he turned to his father. "Don't listen to a word she says," Dustin pointed a fork at Steve who threw his hands up. 

"Alright, alright. Finish your dinner so you can have time to wind down before you go to bed. You've got a big day tomorrow." Dustin smiled before starting to scarf down his food as if he hadn't eaten in days. 

"Slow down, Dusty!" Suzie squealed. She was a good match for him, Steve thought. 

At least Dustin had Suzie.

ROBIN BUCKLEY

Lord have mercy.

The girls had come back from a nice lunch, courtesy of Austin who was the only one willing to do them a solid and pay for their food, and things were calm until the sun went down. They’d found a pizza place and called for delivery. It was good, Robin found, but she’d had better back in Miami.

After that, they’d flipped through the few channels the hotel TV offered and Chrissy began her nightly routine of a simple skin care routine and brading of her hair. Then, she would join Robin under the covers. She wore a mint green silk pyjama set, a spaghetti strapped tank top and shorts that ended before her mid thigh, and Robin felt under dressed in her wife beater and Archie sweatpants.

The only light spared was from the lamp that sat on Robin's side of the bed she was almost scared to turn it off. If she did, it would really seem like it was just her and Chrissy. 

"Are you totally sure you're comfortable with me? I mean, I've been told I'm a pretty clingy sleeper. I wouldn't want you to wake up with me-" Robin started rambling before Chrissy stepped in. 

"Rob! I already promised." Chrissy's eyes were drooping and Robin could tell she was really to pass the fuck out. Robin smiled fondly, brushing Chrissy's bangs from her face and pulling the blankets up further. "You know, you're really pretty." Chrissy sleepily admitted. Robin stared in shock for a moment. 

"Y-you think?" 

"Uh huh," She pulled a hand out of the covers and laid it on Robin's cheek. "Super pretty." Chrissy smiled and brought her hand back to her chest before swiftly falling asleep. 

‘Are you there god? It’s me, Margaret.’ Robin thought. She brought her palm to the same cheek Chrissy had just touched and she felt how much her face had heated up. God, she probably looked like a lovesick fool, but she couldn't even judge herself for that when she laid her eyes upon Chrissy's sleeping figure. She looked so at peace. Quite often she was riddled with anxiety or happiness, both that made her constantly fidgeting or moving around. Now, she was still and sound. Robin fought herself to take a mental photo, wanting to remember this sight forever. Wanting to wake up to this sight forever. 

Reluctantly, Robin rolled to lay on her back. She never slept well on her side. She turned the lamp out finally and soon enough her own eyes became heavy with sleep, and she herself would also succumb to sleep.

The next sound Robin would hear would be the screech of her ringtone and Chrissy's groan from next to her. Robin reached to the nightstand and grabbed her phone. It was Eddie, that bastard. 

"Eddie?" 

"Woah, morning Robin." Eddie seemed pretty awake for... Ten in the morning. "Just wanted to make sure you two were awake. I'm guessing you weren't until just now." 

"Yeah, asshole. I had an alarm set for eleven." Robin whined and Chrissy yawned from beside her. 

"Okay, well I wanted us to all meet up for brunch before the panel. So get ready and meet us in the lobby by eleven-thirty. Okay? Okay." Eddie hung up before Robin could intervene. 

"He is such a prick," Robin groaned and set her phone back down. Chrissy giggles as she rubs her eyes. 

"That's Eddie, alright." Chrissy sighed. She sat up and stretched out her arms. Robin had to stop herself from staring at the slight muscle the former cheerleader still had. She sat up as well, much to her dismay. "I," Chrissy swung her legs over the side of the bed before standing up. "Am going to have a shower. You want me to be quick so you can have one too?" 

"If you wouldn't mind. I could always wait until after we hang out with the guys too." Robin said as she walked over to the small vanity and started to brush her hair. 

"Oh, Robin. You are a gift from god." Chrissy responded as she approached the taller and left a kiss on her cheek before scurrying away to the small bathroom of the hotel room. Robin simply froze. This girl had no idea what she was doing to her.

tags:

@marklee-blackmore

[willowbird]

For the prompt game — could you do AU 1, trope 8, location 2 for Andreil? I always love reading these, thanks for sharing!

Grad School, return of the childhood best friend, inside Andrew's closet!!! Thank you so much for sending in the ask I'm glad you're enjoying the little ficlets and I hope you like this one too!

-----

Tall people were a curse. A blight on all of society. Civilization would undoubtedly crumble under the obnoxious stomping of their huge feet and the polar ice caps would melt at least in part due to the heat from their big fat heads.

Also, all the tall fuckers in Andrew's cohort were constantly putting things in places Andrew couldn't reach, especially when it came to the supply closet off of the office the group of them communally used. It had gotten to the point that Andrew had taken full command of the ordering and organization of all their supplies. Last month he had even gone so far as to print out and laminate a full-color sign for the closet that read: NO ONE ABOVE 5'3 PERMITTED. SEE ANDREW J MINYARD FOR ALL SUPPLY RETRIEVAL.

The only reason he'd given the extra few inches at all was because Robin, the undergrad TA that assisted in one of his classes, sometimes helped him out and she was a whole three inches taller than him. It was enough of a restriction that it barred the rest of his cohort from intruding, though, as even Renee was a solid 5'8.

Or at least, it should have been an effective restriction. Andrew had thought the rest of his team could read well enough to get the goddamn message. Then he showed up this morning and the fucking closet door was open and where was the box of printer ink he'd ordered last week?

That's right, on the top fucking shelf.

When Andrew figured out which idiotic fucking beanpole had decided to pull this shit with him there was going to be hell to pay. He would raid his cat's litter box for ammunition if he had to.

For the moment, though, he needed to replace the ink in both printers. Which was why he was balancing precariously on the arms of the only non-rolly chair on the goddamn floor, straining to reach the box of ink and quietly promising to take an extra dose of revenge out of each and every person over 5'3 if he fell.

Which he almost did when a sharp knock suddenly echoed a bit too loud from directly behind him.

"Jesus fuck what is wrong with y--" Andrew cut off abruptly as he looked over his shoulder to see who had dared come up behind him at a time like this. He blinked, then he fully closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. When the man before him was still fucking there, Andrew twisted slightly and jumped down, letting his ass hit the seat as he overbalanced on the landing.

"Um... hi."

It had been almost ten years since Andrew had heard that voice. Ten years. In that time Neil had gone from being a scrawny, anxious kid to... well...

Vivid blue eyes stared at him steadily, winged with eyeliner that only made them brighter. His dark russet-auburn hair was shaved close to his head on the sides but long enough on the top that he'd gathered it back in a loose bun, which only emphasized the perfect angles of his face and the soft give of his mouth, the way his chin carved down to a point as if to frame it, drawing the eye.

"Andrew? I didn't mean to surprise you. Well, I did, that's why I didn't tell you I was coming. I didn't mean to almost make you fall off a chair though..."

Neil clicked a tongue-piercing against his teeth. It flashed silver for a moment, matching the two bars that bisected his left eyebrow. Purple studs and a line of tiny hoops trailed up each ear.

Andrew stared, then he did the only rational thing and reached forward, grabbing the doorknob and slamming it shut with himself inside the closet.

His heart was fucking pounding, and he knew his face was flushed because, look. Look. Neil Josten at fourteen years old had been a scrawny kid with big ears and a chipped tooth that was always covered in bruises and Andrew had been so fucking in love with him. All he ever wanted to do as a baby gay was kiss Neil Josten. Thought about it all the time. But that had been off the table because Neil was his best friend and probably asexual and also literally trying to survive. When Neil moved to the other side of the fucking planet to be with his uncle, Andrew had told himself that this was a good thing because 1) Neil would be safe and 2) if there was distance between them then Andrew could finally get over him.

Over the last ten years they'd exchanged regular letters, but because Neil was a fucking technophobe and there may or may not have been an actual hit from actual hitmen and gangsters and shit on him over here in the states - they hadn't spoken on the phone and no pictures had been shared.

And now here was Neil. Almost twenty-four and... so so fucking hot.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a quiet, anxious, "Andrew..?" that sounded a lot more like the Neil Andrew remembered.

"Um... should I go? I'm sorry... I thought... I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'll go..."

"No!" The word escaped him before he had time to really think about it. He was pretty sure his voice cracked a little in his desperation too. Shit. Andrew cleared his throat and tried again. "Just... wait. I.. need to get ink."

"Okay."

Andrew did his best not to read into the mystery in Neil's tone. Instead, he thanked the closet gods and carefully climbed back up onto the chair. Another couple of minutes later he had the ink he needed and was facing a coming out he really never anticipated having to go through. Coming out of the closet to your best friend was one thing. Coming out of the literal, actual closet you have shut yourself in to reunite with your super hot best friend that you've been in love with for over a decade at this point was quite another.

Ripping the band-aid off was really the only way to go, so Andrew took a deep breath, put his free hand on the knob, and opened the door.

Neil had repositioned himself and was now leaning against the nearest desk. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows exposing strong forearms decorated with swirls of dark ink. Three fingers on each hand bore rings (not the ring fingers, not that Andrew was specifically looking) and his nails were painted a dark, glossy gray. Around one wrist was a frayed bracelet that perfectly matched the one Andrew also wore on the same wrist.

As soon as Neil saw him, he lit up. A smile on his face that shined in his eyes, even if there was a slight hesitance to it - understandable considering Andrew had just.. you know... shut himself in a closet after seeing him.

"Hey... Sorry again, about that. I know you don't like to be startled. I just... I got excited."

Andrew swallowed, a tough feat with a throat so dry. Somehow, he managed a snort. "Like a puppy. Should I be worried about my floors, Josten?"

"I dunno, you gonna scratch me behind the ears?" Neil shot back, and the smirk that accompanied it was fucking devastating. That's is, Andrew gave up. He lost. Dead, he was dead. There was no way he was getting out of this one.

Andrew did the only thing he could do to keep himself from grabbing the little bastard and kissing him senseless, which was ask the big question hanging in the room between them.

"How are you here, Neil? I thought you'd never be able to come back to American soil."

Neil rubbed the back of his neck, like he was thinking of the best way to explain it. After a moment he said, "Uncle Stuart still doesn't think it's a great idea - but there's no price on my head anymore. As of last month we cleared out the last of... well, let's just call them the old bad guys. There are new bad guys, but they don't really care about me."

It took a moment for that to fully sink in. Andrew set down the ink on the desk and moved to stand directly in front of Neil. When Neil stood up straight, they were almost exactly the same height - Neil only really had a few inches on him. At least he hadn't been lying to make him feel better when he'd told him in a letter a few years back that he'd topped out at 5'3.

"So? Don't you have a whole new life over in jolly old England now? Friends and family who don't regularly try to kill you? Why come back at all?"

He knew why, but he wanted - he needed - to hear him say it.

"Yeah, but... they aren't you."

"Me."

"Yeah, Andrew. You."

Their eyes met. Something in Andrew's chest snapped like an overworked rubber band stretched too taut and all the carefully sequestered feelings it had been keeping at bay suddenly sprang forth like a tidal wave. They rushed through him, filling him up, buoying him until he probably could have reached the top shelf of that goddamn closet without the chair.

"I hate you," Andrew ground out. And Neil smiled, because he knew it wasn't true.

"I missed you, Andrew. I missed you so fucking much."

"Shut up, stupid." Andrew forced himself to take a deep breath, then he snatched up Neil's hand and started dragging him out of the office. "Come on. We're getting ice cream."

Neil laughed and squeezed his hand. "Some things never change."

No, Andrew thought, some things never do.

[milstrim]

Flesh and Bone and Heart

Chapter 1: “You have to let go.”

AO3 Link

Everything was bleak. Russet red skies painted a deep orange over every building and skyscraper. Over bodies of sickly green skin and the newly familiar sight of pools of blood stained to sidewalks and walls.

Peter hadn't quite gotten used to the bleakness yet, and he didn't want to. There was still hope after all. Even if he and Happy were the last New Yorkers left in a city of 8.4 million. There had to be other people alive, other groups of survivors across America, waiting for a cure. Because there had to be a way to more than survive this, even if the virus had wiped out the Avengers in a day...

He shook his head of the thought, squaring his shoulders and resuming his vigilant watch from atop the nondescript gray building he had called home the last couple of days. There was hope, and Peter would help the ragtag team that adopted him into their ranks to see it, even though he was sure they didn't see it like he did. There had to be hope after all. Humanity couldn't end because of one mistake. Aunt May couldn't be gone forever. Ned couldn't be a zombie without being allowed to have had a nerd-freak out over the whole thing. Mr. Stark couldn't be replaced by a husk of his former self.

It was impossible for Peter, to stare out at the city every day knowing about the looks the others shared when they thought he wasn't looking. How Happy would stare sullenly. How Sharon would always speak to him a little softer than the day before. Even Kurt, who had been the only one willing and able to match Peter's enthusiasm and attempts to keep everyone's spirits lifted, would drop the act the moment Peter wasn't in the room. He knew. He could hear everyone in their building, after all.

Which was why Peter sat on the building now.

The group had all formed three weeks into the apocalypse, not so easily fitting together but still managing to find how they all worked. His powers definitely made Peter one of the most powerful assets to the team, which was why he was usually on watch or patrolling around for where most of the infected were concentrated. Where once he might have preened at finally feeling so important--so seen--now he wished more than anything that he could shrink away. That his powers weren't needed so badly to keep a handful of survivors away from a fate almost worse than death.

He wished that everything was okay.

Even if it wasn't. And it might never be.

The screen of his mask caught something. Peter readjusted, narrowing his eyes as Karen zoomed in. He relaxed. It was just a small group of normal but infected New Yorkers. As long as everyone inside was quiet and kept up their normal routine, there was little danger there. It wasn't like it was Mr. Stark or those weird portal guys that would've gotten Peter weeks ago had Hope not shown up. They were dangerous, and usually who Peter kept his eye out for. Karen was always on the job tracking Mr. Stark, but the teenager had gotten used to training his eye for the familiar glinting red regardless.

With a quiet sigh released in a huff under his breath, Peter wiggled into a more comfortable crouch, watching the zombies until they filtered away onto a different street and out of his sight.

"Is there a street camera around there, Karen?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper. Two months into the zombie apocalypse the teenager had finally trained himself to make every word small. To treat every sentence like a danger. Sometimes Peter thought it was funny, that he'd had to learn to be quieter. May had always been so loud she'd been confused as to why he was so soft-spoken and he would joke that she was losing her hearing in her old age. But those smile-inducing thoughts would make his features fall with regret and guilt and he'd shove them away as quickly as they came.

"Of course, Peter. Here," his faithful AI responded, the video popping up on his screen. It showed the people continuing to stumble away, so he waved the video away. No real danger. Just a normal, boring, and tense day in the apocalypse.

The high schooler thanked the AI as the video disappeared, forcing his strained shoulders to drop and relax. It was something he'd found himself doing a lot recently. The apocalypse was, well, it was the apocalypse. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking and every breath was filled with a tired guilt that made his chest feel stale. But it also lacked a lot of action. Especially recently. The past two weeks had been a strange mixture of the constant need to be vigilant but with a significant lack of things to do.

It wasn't incredibly hard to get food. Most zombies had moved from being indoors to try and hunt better--like there was really anything left to hunt--leaving supermarkets vacant and easy to raid. It wasn't hard to watch out for infected intruders. Two people were always on watch. Important items were always ready to be moved and Karen kept a constant eye on security cameras around whatever building they were occupying that week. And Peter was left with little to do to occupy his thoughts.

He didn't want to think. Not about his situation. Not about the world. Not about his family and friends. He wanted to fight. He wanted to do.

Sometimes the teenager would try and piece together a semblance of a cure. Many zombies had rotted away completely, and there were vacant labs dotted around New York. He could try his hand at his chemistry knowledge and combat what he could. But every attempt, no matter how promising, had always ended in failure.

Peter couldn't make a cure. He was smart, but he was only sixteen and a half. He was a kid and he couldn't do it.

But there was a different sixteen year-old that maybe could.

Miss Okoye had arrived yesterday, in a shiny ship that had bled out of the air and landed in the open space in Avengers tower where the Quinjet should have been. Peter had been on watch then too, but he hadn't seen the plane land at the building across the city, it was invisible after all. Instead, Karen had alerted him and the teenager had immediately leapt off the building towards the tall and lonely ghost of a tower.

  (His first day in the lab had been so tense and awkward. He hadn't known what to say and Mr. Stark hadn't known what to do. Peter had been so nervous he'd nearly burnt his hand off while doing simple wiring. Mr. Stark had panicked so bad--grabbing his hand and having Friday scan it and double-checking it himself when he didn't quite believe the AI--his cheeks blazed red and then Peter had burst out with loud giggles at the panic.)

  Peter had arrived quickly and without interruption from a certain flying zombie, with enough time to warn Miss Okoye that Mr. Stark's suit also got alerts when something entered the tower and that they needed to leave immediately. Thankfully, he and the warrior had left before anyone could arrive and Peter had gotten to ride in a super-freaking-cool Wakandan ship. It hadn't quite distracted him from being back at the tower, but he'd let everyone think it had.

Now the group was making a decision. He could hear them faintly a few floors below, their voices murmured and concerned. It was hard to make out what they were saying exactly, but he couldn't quite say he cared. Certainly not enough to have Karen enhance the sound and let him know every word that was being said below. He had found that happening a lot recently. Not caring. At some point everything had become too much and his brain felt much too much like wet tissue paper to try and purse through anything in there other than I wish I wasn't awake. I wish I wasn't here. I wish someone else had survived instead of me. Someone who was ready.

But there wasn't anything else. And Wakanda would be safe, if they managed to make it there.

That was the debate.

Did they go search for a man who'd been thought to be dead and lost days into the apocalypse, or pack up and go to the last safe haven on Earth? Miss Okoye had her goal, with or without them--that, she had made very clear. But the rest of the group was split, and something they had decided when they'd first met was that the group should never split. And so, the debating. The arguing. All in whispered murmurs that had to be stifled to nothing if Peter ever gave the signal that an infected group was nearing too close for comfort.

The teenager hadn't heard much of the argument, hadn't made much of a point to pay attention to it, but he knew where everyone lay. Happy was ready to retreat to Wakanda, and Peter couldn't blame him. He didn't have superpowers, he wasn't trained, and the teenager was sure that it had been quite a blow to not only lose all of his friends but to have to depend on a snot-nosed teenager afterwards. Peter wanted Happy to go too. Traversing the zombie-infested country was a death wish for anyone who wasn't in better-than-peak fighting condition.

Kurt wanted to go. Bucky and Sharon wanted to fight.

Hope wanted to fight, but she wanted Peter to go.

Peter didn't want to go.

He wasn't an Avenger, but neither was she. There were no Avengers left. But he was the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. It was his responsibility to help his community, and hiding in Wakanda wouldn't help. If there was a fight, some way to help, Peter would take it.

Finally tired of the silence, he opened his mouth to ask Karen to let him listen to the debate, when a tingle--shocking and cold and running a shiver of goosebumps along his arms--stopped him. Immediately the teenager was on high alert, his muscles tightening in anticipation as he searched for the danger.

"Where's the Iron Man armor?" he snipped quietly to Karen. A screen popped up immediately, showing the armor still in Manhattan. He furrowed his brows. "Okay. Okay. Is it the wizard guys? Karen, search through security cameras nearby and alert the others that something is--"

He cut himself off at a painfully sharp tingle, instinct directing his chin up to stare at the tired russet sky. Except the laziness of it was gone now, replaced now by a fierce fire of ruby red, leaching out from a strange bright spot in the sky. A meteor. Great. The zombie apocalypse, now a meteor, what next? Nuclear war between the zombies?

Karen zoomed in on the meteor heading straight for Manhattan and--no. That wasn't a meteor. Was that--a person? Oh my, God, it was a person.

Said person zipped out of sight just as that thought registered, disappearing among the buildings. Towards where he knew Mr. Stark was.

Peter didn't even weigh his options. A person (alien or possibly already dead) was heading towards the most zombie-infested area of the city. He had to try.

And without a second thought, he slipped off of the building and began swinging.

    "You're not going to convince him!" Happy snapped, his frustration bubbling over. The argument had taken up much of the night before and pretty much all day now. All held in stifled and angry whispers that only made the man angrier as he was forced to keep his voice low and repeat what he'd been saying for hours now. "You've known him for months now! You know you can't."

"He's a kid," Hope pushed back, her voice just as steely as when the argument had started. "He doesn't need to be in the middle of this--even if you and Stark thought it was a good idea. If there's a safe haven in Wakanda, that's where he needs to go."

"And lose one of our most powerful members?" Sharon said. "Look, I don't like the kid fighting any more than you do, but we can't really go anywhere without him. I doubt we'd ever even get out of the city without him."

Hope glared at the agent, aghast. She'd been backed into a corner for hours now, but the woman had refused to back down, spitting and snarling her argument through furious whispers and an exaggeratingly patient voice. Her hard stare examined the faces around the table, looking for some sign of agreement that Happy wished he could offer.

Happy had seen what had happened to Tony. He'd been there when Pepper had turned. When Peter had come bounding through the window of the tower and snatched him towards their new semblance of safety while blubbering about his Aunt and his friend and the state of the city. All in one afternoon.

The former bodyguard thought back to that afternoon a lot. It was clearer in his mind more than almost anything in his life. It had been a gray day. One that turned the sky white and hung heavy in the air and cooled the once bustling streets of New York. It had been strange for the end of spring, but appropriate for the world.

Tony and Rhodes had both been infected, along with the rest of the Avengers, that much they'd known since Friday had reported their vitals completely askew. Happy hadn't told Peter yet, but he'd assumed the kid had already known. The entirety of the West coast had been swallowed, but shaky live footage of people's last moments and journalists as brave as they were stupid had been on a repeating cycle of news for the last thirty-six hours. Peter had never been particularly on top of the news, but Happy had heard how he'd begged Tony to go and help the Avengers. He'd remembered the heart-breaking anxiety and the admittance of a terrible feeling from his Peter Tingle.

But Tony had made Peter stay. He'd told Happy to make sure the kid didn't run off or 'stick his nose into anything that he shouldn't.' Happy's best friend had left with a tight smile. Happy had said good luck.

And now Tony was gone.

Or, more accurately, Tony had spread the infection among the entirety of New York in four hours.

Happy remembered a lot about that day, but he still wasn't sure why Tony had come back to the city. The bodyguard couldn't read brain scans, but Friday had said Tony was practically a shell after fifteen minutes. And a shell had no reason to return home.

He guessed the why wasn't terribly important, because Tony had returned, heading straight toward the tower.

Happy had been about the leave, actually. After watching news footage of Natasha--on her own, bloodied and torn and still trying to fight--finally losing an impossible battle, he knew he'd needed to pick up Peter and May. They needed to get to the compound and try to figure out how to keep the world from breaking. With the Avengers gone there had to be another solution. Maybe it was going to be harboring scientists on a heavily fortified government base. Maybe it was going to be finding other heroes, like Fury had done. The world was so big, there had to be more superheroes--but it hadn't worked out like that.

He'd been on the phone.

"I'm leaving now," he'd said to Pepper, stepping into the elevator. "I'll get Peter and May and take them to the compound. I think you should get in the car with me."

"No. I'll drive myself after you in a couple of hours," she'd said, the dryness of grief clinging to her voice. "The governor's meeting with me soon to discuss how to best lock down the city and prevent an infection."

Happy had thought they'd have at least a week or so. The infected Avengers were fast killers, but they were thousands of miles away and hunting their way through the country.

He'd thought they'd had so much longer.

"I don't know how we'll prevent anything without a cure or a forcefield," he'd said.

"Wakanda's providing aid all over the world. I'll hold a meeting with Queen Ramonda and the President this evening to discuss protecting vulnerable hotspots around the country. New York should be able to--"

The phone had crackled as it crashed, whatever Pepper was saying being completely lost to a thunderous boom of glass. His heart had begun racing before he even found the ability to speak.

And then the red. Lights and alarms flashing overhead in a terrifying headache that Happy remembered even now. The fear. The fatigue. The overwhelming wish that everything would just be okay.

But it wasn't. And it likely wouldn't be.

"Pepper?" he'd finally said. No response. "Pepper? C'mon--what happened? Friday, take me up to the penthouse. Now."

The AI obliged, the elevator stopping and shifting as it began to zoom back up.

When the doors had finally opened, Happy had wished he had just left. That he'd just gone for May and Peter hours ago. He knew it made him a coward. He knew it was a betrayal to Tony's trust. To Pepper's. But...

The smell had been strong immediately. Rotting and stomach-churning and burning the hairs of his nose. It was a smell he would come accustomed to in the coming weeks, but then it had been new and terrifying.

The sound had been low. A growl upon the still and charged air. A low hum that had taken him a moment to register past the smell.

And then he'd finally taken in the sight.

And it had been Tony.

But it hadn't been Tony either.

Tony had always had such a distinct posture that Happy could pick him out in the biggest of crowds. His skin was warm and his eyes a deep familiar brown. The suit had been an oxymoron for years. It had meant safety in a lot of ways. It had meant protection and the world and the knowledge that Tony would look out for them, and that he would avenge them if need be. But it had also meant that his friend was in danger. Every damn day. That he had left to go face danger, and that the danger had finally bested him.

Now the suit was the danger. Now it held a rotting corpse, with eyes white and red and veiny. With skin gray and blue and green and grafting off onto the expensive tile floor. Now the arc reactor shined on a collapsed body, twitching in tune with the ringing of the phone beside it.

Bulging eyes had turned to the opened elevator door. Pepper's red hair had begun to shift and turn until a matching pair was facing him.

Happy had pressed the close door button just as he had heard a shouted, "Oh, my God. Mr. Stark I saw you fly in through the window! What--"

The bounding figure of Peter Parker had leapt through the broken window, landing lightly on the shards of glass littered on the floor like sand. Fear had so tightly taken over the excitement held tightly in the kid's shoulders. The imposters had stared. Peter had taken a step back.

And then there'd been a fight.

That was where pieces of the day had gotten blurry. He remembered Peter yelling something at Happy, something about getting out of the building, but Happy didn't remember going down the elevator. He'd rushed out, knocking the couch into Pepper's way while Peter had grappled with Tony. In a flash of panic and skills that Happy hadn't known Peter had had, Tony and Pepper had been flung into the elevator. Peter had grabbed Happy. And they'd swung.

Of course, that elevator hadn't lasted for long. It was a pitiful prison for Tony. No, he'd escaped within minutes. Long enough for him and Peter to get away, but not long enough to warn the city. Not to save May.

Hope's voice snapped Happy back to the argument and out of his hellish memories.

"So Peter comes with us," she said, defeated. "But where are we even going? If he's coming, we're not leaving without a solid and airtight plan."

"There is no such thing," Okoye responded. "Not anymore. Not here."

"But--"

"She's right, Hope," Barnes said, his voice as steely and cold as usual. "The best we can do is not argue and keep moving. When we have T'challa, we'll call for backup and head to Wakanda."

"Sounds like the best plan we'll get," Happy said.

"Great. We'll leave in the morning," Sharon declared. There were nods all around, except for from Hope, who had turned from her arguing to fiddling with the high-tech gauntlet on her wrist, her brows furrowed. And, suddenly, Happy had a bad feeling.

"Or we'll leave right now," Hope said.

"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "Why would we--"

She raised her forearm, displaying the screen on her wrist. "Peter just left. And Karen just alerted me to breaches in the atmosphere."

Oh yeah. Super bad feeling.

"Of course it got worse. How could it not get worse?"

    Peter was only halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge when he saw it. The second thing to interrupt the russet sky of the day. A spaceship. Great. Let's just spread the alien virus to the rest of the universe, yeah?

Crouching on top of a bridge spire, he stopped for only a moment to observe the circular ship taller than a skyscraper. It was definitely different than the Chitauri, so he guessed that didn't mean they were going to attack. Of course, it didn't mean that they were going to not attack either. Part of Peter hoped that maybe some friendly visitors had heard of their troubles and were descending with a cure. A more realistic, and more bone-crushingly tired part of him knew that that was most definitely not the case.

With a rallying breath, the teenager kept going.

"Okay. Just gotta make peace with the new aliens and hope backup arrives. Oh, Karen. Send an ask for backup to Hope please? I've got a feeling Mr. Stark is gonna be here."

"Done, Peter."

"Great. Thank youuu," he sung, dipping low and skimming the water for a few seconds before swinging back up and finally making it into Manhattan.

The spaceship was stirring up dust and its gusts of winds were whipping around trash (a months-old Starbucks cup ended up hitting him right in the face, so nature wasn't quite healing like they'd thought). But, most dangerously, it was attracting a crowd. Hordes of zombies lining the streets were snapped out of their trance and were beginning to amble towards the disturbance. Some faster than others, but as long as Peter was quick they wouldn't be the main disturbance of the afternoon.

Karen kept up a map of Mr. Stark's rapidly approaching location.

    Peter arrived as the dust settled upon the street, revealing a strange mixture of figures, a low thunder of throaty growls, and the sound of at least one regular guy. The teenager recognized three of the figures, and had expected them too. Iron Man and the Wizards. If they ever lived through this, he needed to tell Mr. Stark they'd be a good band or something.

The other two infected figures were--you had to be kidding. The aliens were infected. Amazing. Thank you, Universe for being ever so helpful.

The man--not infected and hopefully human--let out a strangled exclamation of surprise as Mr. Stark raised his arm, once again on the attack. Peter pulled harder on his web, willing himself forward faster. He was so close and yet so far. Mr. Stark and the wizards were still approaching but he still wasn't even close enough to strike what was he going to do--

A flash of red. With a determined flourish, nothing but a floating piece of fabric declared itself in the street and dove. And then, quickly and efficiently, Mr. Stark was thrown. And now Peter was in range.

The young superhero landed just a little too harshly in front of the uninfected man, not even taking a moment to examine his face as he flicked out a hand at the nearest creature. The wizard's jaw was hanging loosely from his cheeks as he raised his hand, a dangerous path of orange following the trail of his fingers.

At the same moment Peter shot a web at his wrist the fabric wrapped around the zombie's head. Peter pulled and the cloth tugged. He stared at the thing, confused as to what it's plan was--could it have a plan? It was an inanimate object. A floating one, but still--before this time tugging with it. In a strong and swift motion, the wizard zombie was knocked into a car, making the vehicle dent in its doors and fall to the side.

"Nice!" Peter exclaimed as the fabric zipped off the guy's head before it was slammed into the car door, the thing was by his side in a flash, finally allowing him to see it was a cloak. "Woah. Wizard stuff is pretty cool."

"I'll tell you what's not cool," Peter turned towards the new voice, his jaw dropping as the man continued to speak, "sticking around here! C'mon, move it!!"

Bruce Banner--literally Bruce Banner oh, my God. Where had he been? Why was he here now? Wait, did he maybe have the cure? Was that where he'd been or something--grabbed his arm and began running. Confused and shocked as he was, Peter followed, allowing his legs to be pulled into motion.

A shock ran up his spine, but it wasn't fast or strong enough to completely warn Peter of the sparks that turned into a window twenty feet behind him before he could even blink.

Wizard whose face was still attached lunged. Bruce Banner jumped back with a fearful exclamation, backing the two into a nearby car. The zombie's teeth clicked and snarled, its rotten stench burning at his nose and making his eyes water. But the teeth never came, not close enough to bite. To infect.

"Don't eat me!" Dr. Banner yelled. And, surprisingly, it didn't.

It took Peter a moment to realize what was holding the incensed zombie back. Cloakie had grabbed onto its arms, tugging back harshly. The cloak tugged, the zombie chewed the air, the portal dimmed. And then the portal was gone, snuffed out as quickly as it came and leaving nothing but a lolling head on the ground beside Peter Parker and Bruce Banner.

Peter, so numb and so wired on adrenaline at the same time, had no reaction but a small flinch and a hitched breath. Dr. Banner fell, scrambling to get away from the head as he still backed himself into the car, strangled and horrified yells escaping his lips.

"Oh!! Ugh! Ah, ah, go away go away!!" the Avenger said, kicking the head away in his panic. Peter watched it go before turning back to the fight still continuing behind him.

Mr. Stark was blasting at Cloakie, who still held the zombie's headless body as it looped around in the air in a flurry of motion. Peter watched his mentor for a bit, debating on whether he needed to attack and trap him while the man was distracted, or grab Dr. Banner and run, when the decision was made for him.

"Agh!!--" he exclaimed as his legs were tugged and pulled into the air. A confused scream escaped past his lips at the lack of anything physical pulling him, but there was no time to ponder.

Instinctively, Peter stuck his hands to the pavement, grunting as his legs were still pulled straight up in the air. Now essentially in a magic headstand, the teenager could make out the approaching zombies. Mr. Stark, Goatee Wizard, Squidward, and Gray Hulk. Squidward seemed to be doing the magic in this scenario, its hand held out in a probably magic but threatening gesture.

"Hey! No, put me down! C'mon, I'm not good meat, guys. Really. You'd be better off finding some rats or--" There was a crack. Peter looked down at the pavement he was sticking to now crumbling around his hands. "That's not good."

And then Peter was fully in the air, the cement still attached to his stretched out hands and the zombies still approaching.

"Heyyy, guys," he said, trying hard not to look at Mr. Stark. "Y'know, I feel like you just had something to eat and I hate to spoil dinner so I'm just gonna--"

Buzzing filled the air, choking the rust sky in clouds of black. Peter closed his eyes even as the figures stopped only a foot from his face, unable to watch the spectacle and glad to fall to the ground. Wind gushed overhead, a hot air following the streaming wave of ants as they thundered forward.

Remembering that Mr. Stark was there, Peter forced his eyes open in time to see his mentor be completely surrounded and engulfed by a flurry of ants as thick as smoke. The husk of the hero growled and snarled, swinging and snapping at the pests now swarming around him.

The other three wasted away, their soft and rotting flesh eaten completely by Hope's army of thousands, but Mr. Stark still stood, dead yellow eyes staring straight into Peter's.

Mr. Stark didn't recognize Peter. Peter didn't recognize Mr. Stark.

Hope warped back to her normal size, mounting a defensive stance between him and Mr. Stark with her arm outstretched. Mr. Stark's repulsors whined and Hope's gauntlets charged. It took the teenager a split second to realize what she was about to do.

He made to his feet.

"NO!! HOPE DON'T--"

Mr. Stark's body careened. His head rolled, stopping just by Peter's foot.

He couldn't look away.

Mr. Stark had always been such an infinite figure in Peter's mind. Uncontrolled and ungoverned by terrors of death and incapable of causing grief. So the teenager hadn't let himself feel grief, because it was too unreal--too impossible--to feel grief for his mentor. To feel grief for the world, because the world couldn't end like this. He'd repeated that every day. Every morning. Every night. Every minute. Humanity couldn't end because of one decision. One mistake.

But Peter had made a mistake too. He had made the mistake of locking misery and his mourning away, of moving every thought towards something different. Something productive, something positive, something uplifting. He'd made it his role, and his role alone, to keep the group going, no matter how much denying he had to do to get there.

And that had been a mistake, because now there was nothing stopping two months of fear and regret and anguish as it piled and piled and piled. It flooded in like a torrent of mud, slimy and all consuming through his head and his stomach and even towards his limbs until everything was numb and he had only thought left.

Mr. Stark's gone. He's gone. He's gone.

An ant, as huge as he was, grabbed Mr. Stark's head and left.

Peter stared at the spot where it had been, unblinking, breath short, limbs taut. Hope kneeled beside him, her helmet retracting.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know you two were close."

He ignored her apology. "There could have been a cure. There could've--and now--"

"I'm sorry," Hope said again. "But you have to let go, Peter. We can't save everybody."

Peter didn't hear her. A new thought replaced the old one.

But why couldn't we save him?

Someone cleared their throat. Peter and Hope turned to stare as Dr. Banner stepped over a now rotten skeleton.

"Would anyone care to explain, please?"

Hope sighed. "Where to start."

2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

[waywardimpalawriter]

#36: "I want to try for a baby" with Sam Wilson?🥺💕

Little Cap’s

Pairing: Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Tooth rotten fluff nothing more.

Word count: 2,653

Summary: You’ve been thinking about it for a while now, just wasn’t sure how Sam would take the question.

Note’s: Written for the wonderful @autumnleaves1991-blog  for the Writer Wednesday-Writer Challenge. Thank you so much doll for tagging me and including me in this opportunity.

Set after the ending of Falcon and The Winter Soldier, Sam has taken the mantle of Captain America as his own. This is my first time writing for Sam so I do hope I’ve done him justice.

Rolling the idea around your mind for what felt like the hundredth time today. Worried about his reaction, scared he might say no. Neither of your ready for the biggest leap since the ring he put on your finger. Sparking in the late summer Louisiana sun simple single two carat engagement ring catches your eye. Dreamy smile tugging the corners of your lips up.

“You gonna help finish these meal’s Y/N or stare at the rock Sam gave you?” playful annoyance filtering through her voice. Sarah glances your way smile bright and full spreading over her plush lips. “Come on girl quicker we get these meals out the faster we get back home and relax.”

“Yeah, yeah quit your bitchin babe I’m coming,” sending her a wink back. Thoughts temporarily side tracked as is your path when Cass and AJ cross, both boy’s laden with styrofoam containers. Delicious smells tickle your nose as they path tummy grumbling in reminder of a missed meal.

“Better get that checked out Aunt Y/N sounds like you got a bear in there,” AJ teases laughter in his voice.

Scowling playfully you take off after him intent on smacking his butt for the sass. But miss by a few inches, looking towards Sarah for sympathy. “What he’s not wrong and I told you to eat something earlier,” lips tipping up. Grabbing two food boxes at a time to pack them into the larger cardboard carry box.

“No love, non at all and you’re suppose to be family,” arms crossing refusing to help.

“Who’s suppose to be family?” Deep timbered voice asks from the side kitchen door, leaning on the frame like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Smiling russet eyes glance over Sarah and the boys before landing on you, back towards him. His favorite pink, yellow and white sundress fitted to your body, wearing it especially for him. Butterflies start dancing in your belly at his voice but you don’t turn just yet adding the last two containers to the box AJ packed up.

Shaking her head, “You’re late I guess there’s a first time for everything huh?” Hands placed on her hips trying to look stern but a smile spreads over her lips at seeing her big brother back in one piece.

“Don’t blame me for that Sarah. Bionic stare machine in the reason,” thumbing over his shoulder where Bucky appears sheepish grin on his lips.

“Uncle Sam you’re back, how’d it go?” Cass exclaimed happily running over to his uncle and flinging arms around his neck when Sam bent down to hug him.

AJ joining a little slowly, “Got the shield with ya this time?”

“Maybe but it’s not for you to play with,” Sam snarks back running a hand over the boy’s head, pulling him in for a one armed hug.

That’s when you turn seeing the love shinning like the sun in those such cherished eyes. Breath catching for a moment as visions filter through your thoughts. Sam holding his own child, your child, making your heart beat out a quick step. You try to cover by turning away and checking to make sure you have everything. Hoping Sam won’t notice.

“Ah but Uncle Sam please?” Puppy eyes on full blast eagerness in his tone.

But he does, filling the question away for when you’re alone together. “Don’t y’all got a truck to pack? Those meal’s ain’t gonna deliver themselves.” Stepping deeper into the kitchen with Bucky following. Eyes trained on you for a moment till Sarah moves and he shifts to look at her. Slight change in demeanor, soft smile on her lips with eyes, ‘No,’ drawing an invisible line from his sister to Bucky and back.  “Oh hell no, not the two of you. Seriously Sarah the man is old as dirt.” Exasperated huff leaving his mouth, running a hand over his head acting like the prospect pains him.

Partnership somewhere along the years turned into friendship though the banter and good natured ribbing still persisted. Somethings just never change ever over the years. Not that either one of them would. Their brand of team work fit the two of them perfectly and with amazing precision.  

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Samual and keep out of my business in that department,” brow lifting, Sarah grabs for the cardboard box.

Eyes rolling arms crossed over his massive chest everyone else quiet for the moment. “It’s my business since you’re my sister. Can’t have little cyborgs running around here.” Seeing your shoulders shaking, Sam tries to keep the humor from his tone, “I mean think what the neighbors would say Sarah. You’d be going out with a centurion.”

“Actually it’d be centurion plus ten,” Bucky butts in grin sliding over his lips, looking from you to Sarah as his features soften into an almost bashful smile.

“I think it’d be cute the two of them,” you quip reaching to takes Sam’s gloved hand in yours, gaining his attention for a moment.

Shaking his head, “Neither of you are helping any,” though his russet eyes stay with you before an “Oaf,” exists his chest, hand coming up to rub the center of his chest. “Why?”

“For butting in where that overly large nose doesn’t belong. Why don’t you mind your own business and stay outta mine?” Box in her arms, Sarah heads towards the door that Bucky holds open. Looking both men over with a fake exasperated sigh, “Neither of you can go to town in those get ups. Change and meet us at the carnival.”    

Turning back to you with a small pout, “Here you deserved it buddy told you not to snoop in her love life.”

“No sympathy for your fiancé?” Wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you against him, feeling the leather crease with your curves pressed tightly. “She still hits damn hard. Wanna make it feel better?”

Triple groans leave three sets of mouths and you both turn to see Bucky, Cass and AJ making gross faces. Pretending to throw up while holding their stomachs. “No one said you three needed to stay,” sassy tone to your voice. “AJ, Cass your mom is waiting and Buck get up stairs, shower and change the both of you look like shit by the way.” Though worry underlays the tone noticing the slight limp Sam’s sporting, along with a busted lip. Bucky not much better with buries blooming purple along his jaw and eye. Who knew what other injures the two of them acquired from this mission. “Sure hope the other guy’s look worse.”

“Count on that on Y/N,” nodding then he turns to head upstairs following your orders. The boys having already disappeared out the door.

Attention back on Sam, cupping his whiskered cheek, “You need to shave baby, it’s grown since last I saw you.” Brushing your fingers over the soft beard, worry filled eyes locking with his.

“I’ll get right on that sweetheart but first there’s something I’ve been needing to do since I left,” voice quiet drinking in your beauty. Tightening his arms around your waist to pull you a little closer. Captain America’s new flight suit bitting into your cloth covered frame. Circling your arms around his neck and drawing little patterns with your nails on the skin just below the collar of his suit.

Tipping your head to the side, “Oh and what would that be?” Innocent smile tugging your lips. Sure it’s only been three weeks since he left out but that’d been a long three weeks of worry and fear. You trusted his skills and that Bucky would watch his six. It’s the other assholes you didn’t put much faith in. The bruises and scars littering his body a testament to how hard they tried to put him in the ground for good.

“Eat a slice of that heavenly banana bread Sarah makes,” keeping his face neutral as a gasp leaves your lips, making his twitch. Halting your fist from smacking the same place Sarah did. Palm come up to caress your cheek, bringing you close breath ghosting over your trembling lips. “Thought I was serious sweetheart,” words mumbled before slanting his lips over yours.

Gentle to start, just pressing your mouths together finding the right fit and sliding his tongue over the seam of yours. Requesting permission which is granted on a sigh, melting into his arms. Wrapping yours around his shoulders giving over to him those little noises he loves to brag from your throat. Meeting his tongue to tangle and caress each other. Teeth snagging your bottom lip to suck and nibble on a moment while gathering air. Before diving back in deepening the kiss till you’re both breathless and panting. Foreheads resting, eyes staring with goofy little smiles on your faces.

“Missed me didn’t you?”

Teasingly, “Nope don’t know what you mean Mr. Wilson I missed Bucky though.” Giggles bursting from your throat with the groan from Sam. Who drops his head on your shoulder squeezing you closer in a hug. Lips brushing his ear, “You know better than that Sam I always miss you.”

“Tease,” turning his head to press a kiss to your neck right when the car horn sounds making you both groan. “Impatience as always,” pulling back to place on more kiss to your lips. “Go I’ll see you in a bit. Save me some cotton candy?”

“Of course and a ride on the ferries wheel to,” not wanting to let him go but knowing delivers needed to be made. Leaning up on your toes to press one last kiss, “Welcome home my love I missed you.” Before pulling away, grabbing the box and walking over backwards. Watching him as he stares back love shinning in those deep russet eyes. Blowing him a kiss at the door.

“Y’all can trade gooey eyes later Y/N shake a leg we got work to do,” Sarah calls out making Sam shake his head and you to laugh.

Heading for the door, Sam grabs your hand one more time, “Miss you to sweetheart, I love you.”

“Love you more,” quickly pressing forward to give him one more kiss. Jumping off the last step and up into the truck waving as Sarah pulls out heading towards town.

Two hours later, food passed out you and Sarah parked yourself on a picnic bench near the parking lot of the town carnival. Sharing a pretzel with hot mustard while the boys run around working off the sugar high they’ve put themselves in. Gathering crowd catches your eye, smile spreading over your lips at the sight of Sam and Bucky. Pausing to take pictures sign autographs for the kids mainly. Both men cleaning up nicely though your eyes stay with Sam. Dressed casual with a fitted blue Henley top two button’s open and black jeans that hugged his thighs and waist just perfectly. However, it’s his demeanor, laid back at easy with himself and those around him which speaks to you most. Catering to all the children who beg for a photo or signature. Heart expanding when a young mother asks him to hold her baby for a picture. Watching how he cradles the young one to his chest and coos has a small gasp leaving your lips.

“You need to ask him before your ovaries explode while you stare,” teasing cadence in her voice making you whip around to stare at her. Laughter sweet and clear echos around the small area. Beating the table with one hand in her mirth Sarah rests her head on the other.

Heated face buried in your hands hating and loving that Sarah knows you so well. “I can’t help it Sar that man was made to make beautiful babies. Most importantly making them with me,” bottom lip tugged between your teeth, eyes landing back on Sam who’s striding over.    

“I see the two of you have started without us.” Sliding beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you against his side.

Plucking up the last bite of pretzel to feed him, “Couldn’t wait much longer handsome. What took the two of you so long? Here I thought us women are bad.”

“Went to check on the boat heard it’s been running a little rough,” looking over at Sarah while saying. “We’ll take care of that tomorrow sis it shouldn’t be too hard a fix.”

Nodding, “Should leave it to someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“And I don’t?” Faking offense, hand on his chest.

“Last time you tried to fix the boat, you damn near blew it up Sam.” Teasing tenor states from beside Sarah making both women chuckle and Sam rolling his eyes.

“Thanks for backing me up Buck,” glancing over at you then pointing at Bucky. “You believe him thought we were friends I’m wounded.”

Laughing harder, dropping your head on his shoulder while Bucky answers straight faced, “We’re barely partners Wilson I don’t know where you get friends from.”

“Come one,” taking his hand, tugging up up. “You promised me a Ferris wheel ride remember.”

“Where’s the cotton candy?” Getting up Sam wraps an arm around your waist as the two of you wave a goodbye to Sarah and Bucky.

Steering towards a small inclosed trailer, signs advertising cotton candy, kettle corn, deep fried snickers and corn dogs for sale. You step up, pulling your small wallet out but Sam places his hand over yours to pay and grab the paper stick from the vendor.

Snuggling into his arms, walking and sharing the sticky sweet treat. Line thankfully short of the ride, not the most popular with the kids being slow and only one direction. Though for you it holds a special meaning of the first kiss you and Sam ever shared all those years ago.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Nodding the the attendant who holds the little bar up for you and Sam to slip into the metal seat.

Getting as comfortable as one could, arm wrapped around your shoulders to hold you against him. “How could I forget that night sweetheart.” Gazing down at you, he leans in to brush his lips over yours, “It was the night I lost my heart.”

“Oh Sam,” happy tears forming in your eyes. “I love you so much.”

“Damn good thing because I love you just as much,” smirking that’s wiped from his mouth when yours pressed back into his. Deepening the kiss, gasping when the wheel comes to a stop at the top giving him the advantage to slide his tongue into the sweet cavern of your mouth. Sampling your favorite and drawing a whimper from your throat.

Breaking on a sigh, “I know it might be too soon but seeing you with AJ and Cass, plus tonight with the little baby you held.” Reaching up to caress his cheek seeing the furrowed brow in confusion. Soft smile spreads over your kiss swollen lips. “I want to try for a baby Sam.”  

First time for everything, Sam Wilson is at a loss for words till the Ferris wheel jerks to a start again slowly. Fear clutching your heart till he turns that mega watt smile on you. Breath lodging in your throat at the unadulterated love shining in those deep russet eyes.

“Can we start tonight?” Catching the smirk tipping one side of his lips up before there on yours insistence and demanding. Stealing any words you’d reply with and transforming them into little whimpers and moans.

Breaking when the ride comes to a stop and someone clears their throat. “Looks like there’s gonna be little Cap’s running around instead of cyborgs.” Good natured chuckle leaving Bucky’s lips watching his best friends kiss.

Foreheads pressed together, sharing gasping breaths, “I’ll take that as a yes?” Moving to place a kiss to your forehead then helping you out to rejoin the family.

[yellowcanna]

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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CHAPTER 13

MOONLESS NIGHT (NIGHT 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight

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Sunday 8:32pm—Yokohama

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 “What the fuck is this?”

Shigaraki Tomura stood at the top of a building as he stared down at the brightly lit street below him.

People were walking  around like normal.

People were going about their night like normal.

People were laughing like normal.

And all of that added together was anything but normal.

“This is…Yokohama?!” Spinner gaped in disbelief before he whirled around to Kurogiri. “Didn’t you say this is a city ruled by criminals?”

"It's…supposed to be," Kurogiri replied unsurely.

"Then perhaps we ended up somewhere else?" Magne looked up at the clear night sky. “I don’t see any signs of that barrier we broke through.”

“Maybe this barrier also has a warp power?” Toga suggested.

“So…are we in Yokohama or not?!” Twist shouted in confusion.

“Are you blind?” Dabi snorted at his companions.

Before an argument could break out, Shigaraki spoke.

"This place is Yokohama."

“Indeed.” Mr. Compress twirled his staff around before pointing it down at the street. “Take a closer look at those people.”

Everyone looked back at the people walking about. They only needed a glimpse to know what Mr. Compress was referring to. After all, where e lse in the world could they find a bunch of people looking like the carbon copies of each other?

“Old Humans…” Magne mumbled before her head snapped up upon catching a glimpse of a shadow from the corner of her eye. “They sure are annoying. They’ve been following us since we came through the barrier.”

“Can we kill them?” Toga was already reaching for her knife.

“Forget them.” Shigaraki’s blood-red eye darted to the narrow alleyway beside the building they were on. There were three punks at the bottom, each of them armed with a baseball bat as they chattered and smoked. "We need to find a temporary hideout."

Half an hour later, the  group arrived at an abandoned warehouse. It was run down and filled with dust, but it at least had a proper roof. It was a perfect temporary hideout for them.

Shigaraki walked around the warehouse, leaving footprints on the dusty floor.

"C-can you please let me go now?" The man in Magne's grip asked with a trembling voice. He was  from the trio back in the alleyway.

“Yeah, you did a great job.” Shigaraki strolled back to the man and wrapped all five of his fingers around his face.

Everyone watched with cold eyes as the man shrieked. His body began to disintegrate into ashes, starting with his face. Once the body was fully gone, Shigaraki looked down at his palm, then to Kurogiri.

“Kurogiri, can you warp us out?” 

Kurogiri’s glowing yellow eyes narrowed before purple mist erupted from his body. The  villains watched as the dark mist flickered. It tried to form a warp portal, only to disperse before trying again.

After  several failed attempts, Kurogiri ended up opening a portal three meters beside him. 

"I cannot warp us back out," Kurogiri said as Shigaraki picked up a small piece of cement that had fallen from the wall. "It's the same as trying to warp us inside  the city. My Quirk isn't able to go past the barrier. It seems that I can now only warp within the city."

Shigaraki tossed the piece of cement into one end of Kurogiri’s portal and watched it  fly out from the other.

“So we have to crawl through that hole we made if we want to leave?” Magne frowned, not liking that idea.

"But what exactly is that barrier?" Spinner asked. "None of our Quirks worked on that thing, not even Shigaraki’s. I’ve never heard of any material that can do that.”

"I am afraid I do not have  an answer to that," Kurogiri replied as purple mist took the form of a human body once more. “The master had spent years researching the barrier of Yokohama, but he was unable to find anything. The only thing he was certain of is that Yokohama’s barrier is neither technology nor power.”

“Oh?” Mr. Compress perked up in surprise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Twice gaped.

Dabi raised a brow as his fingers lightly tapped on the crate he was sitting on. He gazed up to the sky, looking through the hole in the roof and to the stars twinkling in the night.

“You’re not saying this thing is alive, are you?” The raven-haired  villain asked.

"No, I do not believe so," Kurogiri replied.

“What else can you tell us about Yokohama?” Mr. Compress asked.

“I have nothing more.” Kurogiri shook his head. “I have already explained to you about Ability users. The master rarely  spoke of Yokohama.”

Rather than not talking about it, it was more like something  had happened in the past that made All for One not want to think about it.

Truthfully, Kurogiri knew he shouldn’t have allowed Shigaraki to come here. Since a long time ago, All for One had instructed all of them to  never go near Yokohama. Unfortunately, with All for One’s capture, Shigaraki was in a mess. He had completely lost his way and only calmed down after they received information of U.A High School planning a class trip to Yokohama.  

It was the mention of Yokohama that pointed out a new path for Shigaraki. As the master's disciple, he too knew about the situation within Yokohama. The master had told him how dangerous Yokohama was, but he wanted to see just what a Hero-free world was like with his own eyes.

“I want to see it…”   Shigaraki told Kurogiri when the latter tried to stop him. “The hidden boss behind the final one.”

Kurogiri glanced at Shigaraki who was standing in the middle of the warehouse.

Perhaps the master had anticipated this as well.

"For now, we need information," Shigaraki announced as he turned to his team. “Dabi and Mr. Compress will go out and gather information.”

“Eeeh?” Toga whined. “Then what about the rest of us?”

"We wait here," Shigaraki said as he sat down on a dusty old chair.

“No! I want to go out too!” Toga complained.

“Same here!” Twist shouted, raising his hand like an elementary kid.

“Now, now, calm down.” Mr. Compress waved his hands to calm his comrades. “We’re in the enemy’s territory. It’ll be risky for us to split up too much. We’ll bring some food back, what do you all want?”

Just like that, Mr. Compress smoothly put out the flames before it even ha d a chance to ignite.

"Also, if those guys out there follow you, let them," Shigaraki added. “Don’t do anything unnecessary.”

"We know that much," Dabi muttered as he and Mr. Compress headed outside.

Thus began the League of Villains’s first night within Yokohama.

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Present

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 “For a couple of brats, you have some guts to come into a nightclub." The orange-haired man said as he came to a stop before the kids.

“W-what do you mean?” Kaminari stammered. He didn’t know why, but there was a strange pressure slamming down on him when he met the man’s eyes.

“What’s it to you?!” Bakugou shouted, standing up. “We can be here all we want!”

“Y-yeah!” Mineta joined in, finding some confidence through Bakugou. “We’re legal!”

The red-haired man snorted out a laugh. “Listen here, kid. No adults would ever call themselves legal.”

“But we’re all sixteen! We can be here!” Kaminari argued.

“Yeah, for Yokohama citizens that is.” The man replied, causing all of them to freeze up in shock. How did they get found out again?!

“H-how—” Mineta spluttered, unable to finish his sentence.

“Anyone can tell with one glance that you’re outsiders.” The man spoke with amusement lacing his husky voice. He looked over to the waiter. The moment their gaze connected, the waiter hurriedly walked up to him with his hands folded behind his back and his posture straight.

“How may I serve you, Chuuya-sama?” He inquired respectfully.

“Tell me what these kids order.” The man called Chuuya said.

“Yes.” The waiter bowed before he began listing out the drinks in perfect order from first to last.

“Sakura Martini for the lady in the inner booth.

Sake Blossom for the lady with the ponytail.

Peach Fuzz for the russet-haired lady.

Tangerine Ginger Sake Sangria for the lady with earmuffs.

Matcha Highball for the long-haired lady.

Raspberry Sake Tea for the lady in the outer booth.

Sake Bomb for the gentleman with ash-blond hair.

Red Eye for the gentleman with red-hair.

Umetini for the dark-haired gentleman in a varsity jacket.

Cassis Grape for the petite gentleman.

Lychee Martini for the gentleman with blond hair and a black streak.

Fuzzy Navel for the blond-haired gentleman in the brown trench coat.              

Mango Margarita for the strong-looking gentleman.

Samurai Caeser for the blond gentleman with long bangs.

Ginza Mary for the gentleman with the blue scarf.

Lemon Drop for the gentleman with the knitted hat.

Sake Mojito for the warmly dressed gentleman.

Japanese Sling for the gentleman with glasses.

Shochu Melon Citrus for the green-haired gentleman.

Umeshu for the gentleman with split coloured hair.”

The waiter barely took any breaths in-between as he recited the long list of orders in what could only be described as perfection. The students stared at the waiter with wide eyes. No one had any idea how in the world that waiter pulled it off.

When the red-haired man gave the kids a pointed look, more than half of them ducked their heads in guilt—like children caught stealing from a cookie jar.

“Remove the alcohol in all of those and replace it with something nonalcoholic.”

“Yes, Chuuya-sama.”

“Hey!” Bakugou hollered but was ignored by the two adults.

“What about the Spirit Bomb, Chuuya-sama?”

“Why the heck are you asking him?! I’m the customer here!”

“Hm.” Chuuya waved his hand dismissively, looking as if he couldn’t care less. “Replace it with milk.”

“As you wish.” With another bow, the waiter walked off to bring the kids their new orders.

“HEY!!!”

“Kacchan!” Midoriya hissed softly, looking back at the man every now and then as he tried to calm his childhood friend down. After all, this person found out who they were and could kick out any minute. The fact that the man even let the waiter give them drinks meant that they were being allowed to stay.

Fortunately, Bakugou was aware of this as well. He grumbled as he plopped himself back down into his seat, refusing to speak another word to the singer.

“After you finish your drinks, leave,” the redhead told them with his arms crossed over his chest. “Kids should act like kids and go home by their curfew time.”

“…Yes,” they replied dejectedly. They watched as the redhead leaned against the wall, seeming to have no intention of leaving. It was obvious that the man had his eyes on them now.

There was a moment of awkward silence as they stared at the man who was just scrolling through his phone.

“Um…Chuuya-san?” Midoriya called hesitantly. That was what the waiter had addressed this man by, right?

The singer looked up.

“Are you the owner of this place?”

The redhead didn’t respond. He stared at the boy, to the point where Midoriya was starting to fidget in his seat, wondering if he had said something wrong.

“Well,” the man closed his phone and shoved it into his back pocket, “I guess you can say that.”

Midoriya blinked at the vague answer. Did he mean that he wasn’t the only owner?

"We are sorry!" Iida, the ever responsible class-president, stood up as best as he could in the limited space of the booth and bowed at the man. "We didn't mean to intrude into your club like this! Thank you for letting us stay!"

A waiter walked up to Chuuya and held up a tray with a single glass of wine like an offering. The red-haired man took the glass by the stem and swirled the red fluid inside around. His movements were swift and elegant.

"I'm only letting you stay until you finish your drinks," he told them, taking a small sip at his wine. "‘Being out this late isn’t for kids like you."

"We're sorry." Yaoyorozu dipped her head in shame. As a straight "A" student growing up in a good household, she had rarely ever been scolded, so this was a harsh hit on her.

“We’re sorry as well.” The rest of the class except for Bakugou followed.

“Um…Chuuya-san, we saw you singing on the stage, you were super amazing!" Uraraka said as the other girls instantly nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it was amazing!” Ashido praised.

“I’ve never heard of anyone that can change pitches like that!” Jirou added.

“Yeah!” Hagakure was waving her hands in the air.

For the first time since he appeared before them, a smile lifted the redhead’s lips. It was a small smile, but with a handsome face like Chuuya’s, a small smile was enough to get the girls flustered.

Thankfully for them, it was at that moment that three waiters came over to their little corner, each of them carrying a tray of colourful drinks.

Everyone watched with stars in their eyes as they received their drinks. Each of them came with a paper straw and fruits decorating the rim of the glass.

“…It’s so good!” Ashido beamed when she took a huge sip of her drink. "It's like cola, but raspberry flavoured! I can even taste the tea!”

"You're right, this is good!" Uraraka gasped. “It’s all bubbly!”

“It’s sparkling water,” Asui croaked happily.

“I didn’t know sparkling water and plum juice could taste so good! Hey Todoroki, is yours the same as mine?” Sero asked, looking over to Todoroki whose drink looked identical to his.

“Yes.” Todoroki smiled as he looked down at his glass.

Despite not having any alcohol, the people that made these drinks took the effort to make them resemble the pictures on the menu. While everyone was admiring and tasting their drinks, Bakugou was glaring at his milk.

The milk was poured into a rocks glass with one gigantic ball of ice floating at the center. There was a layer of coconut flakes over the surface and around the rim of the glass. As the finishing touch, there were two cranberries skewered by a toothpick balancing on the tip of the ice.

It was obvious that whoever made this was trying to give this glass of milk a wintery theme.

However…it didn’t change the fact that this was just a stupid glass of plain milk.

“Woah Bakugou! That milk looks so good!” Kirishima commented, not noticing how the look on Bakugou’s face was getting worse.

“Yeah, that milk sure looks great, Bakugou!” Sero whistled while trying to restrain his laughter. 

“That’s the fanciest milk I’ve ever seen!” Kaminari didn’t have the restraint that Sero did and was clutching onto his stomach as he laughed.

“Let us see over here too!” Ashido called from the other table. 

With a roar, Bakugou grabbed his glass. He tossed the cranberries away and dumped the entire glass of milk into his open mouth. The rich milk floated down his throat, but Bakugou had completely forgotten about the large globe of ice that was now stuck in his mouth.

The boy's face distorted from rage as his teeth ground against the gigantic ball of ice. Bakugou could spit it back out, but his pride wouldn’t allow that to happen, so he ended up sitting there trying to grind the ice apart with his teeth.

The other students quickly went back to talking about their drinks. They’ve known Bakugou long enough to know when to stop their teasing. As they talked, the grinding sound of ice continued to echo by their ears.

“Um, the money—” Yaoyorozu stood up, about to pull out her wallet when Chuuya held up a hand to stop her.

"It's on the house,” the singer told them before waving one of the waiters over. "After you're done, this guy will escort you out the back door. It'll be bad for business if a suspicious group of people like you walks out the front door."

"Thank you so much! We appreciate it!"

“Yes! Thank you!”

"Thank you!"

An echo of thanks came from the students, but the man only brushed it off. Those bright blue eyes only gave them a brief look before he turned, his jacket flapping around him as he walked away.

The waiter that the redhead had called over just stood there dutifully, looking as if he was going to keep standing there until they finish their drinks. Under the man’s stare, there was no way anyone would dare to overstay their welcome. They hurriedly finished their drinks and followed the waiter to the back door that was next to the bar.

There was nothing in the back aside from a long, plain white hallway. At the very end of the hall was a door made of wood. No words were exchanged the entire time they walked. Some of them wanted to talk to ease up the strange atmosphere, but the presence of the waiter made it hard for them to find anything to talk about.

Once they had arrived at the wooden door, the waiter opened it and the cool night air blew in. The man held the door open with one hand folded behind his back and bowed. Startled by such formality, they walked out the door one by one, bowing back and thanking the waiter as they went.

The sky was completely dark.

The street they came out to was just as empty as the street by the club’s front door. The street lights were functioning properly, but it didn’t make the place any less eerie.

Midoriya glanced back at the building they came out from. Unlike the front of the club that had nothing but a black door, the back looked more like an ordinary house. There were windows and all, but the hallway they walked through clearly didn't have any other doors that lead to the rest of the house.

He frowned, feeling as though he had overlooked something important.

The moment the last person—Koda, walked out, the waiter closed the door shut. In the silence, everyone could hear the clicking sound of the lock being turned on the other side. They stared at the door, then to one another, and finally to the empty street.

Perhaps…they should have asked for directions?

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

BAM

The slamming sound of the iron door was drowned out by the music and voices. When a group of oddly dressed people (especially one with hands all over his body) walked into the club, it attracted some attention, but the people around just brushed it off as some weird early Halloween cosplays.

Shigaraki Tomura looked around the club before his eyes landed on the glass staircase with black-suited men standing guard.

“There.” He walked straight towards the stairs with his hands tucked in his pockets.

When those suited men saw them approaching, they immediately blocked their path.

“State your business,” one of the men demanded.

"Tell your boss we're here to see him," Shigaraki told him.

The guards didn’t seem put off by his attitude. One of them went up the stairs, most likely to report while the other two continued to stand guard.

The League of Villains didn’t mind the wait. They stood there idly, taking their time to look around the club.

Shigaraki eyed every person that passed by them. After taking in his surroundings, his eyes eventually landed on that stage. There was a band playing and a singer singing, but that singer was only mediocre in terms of looks.

Nothing about him stood out.

This made Shigaraki frown as he thought back to all the information Dabi and Mr. Compress had collected.

For an organization that controlled an entire city, there was very little information about them. The top brass within the Port Mafia were a complete mystery, yet strangely enough there was information on the boss himself—as well as those next in line to the position of boss.

The first and foremost piece of information they found was about the succession battle—or the Selection War as they called it. This peaceful little city wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed. It had only been two short days and they’ve already discovered countless organizations moving within the shadows.

And whenever there was movement, there were always two individuals involved.

The White Reaper and the Rabid Dog of the Port Mafia.

It was as if all the eyes within Yokohama were on these two so-called successors. While they couldn’t find any information as to what their powers are, one thing for certain is that the White Reaper and the Rabid Dog were no friends. Everyone in the underground knew that if these two were put in the same room, they would tear each other apart and wouldn’t stop until one side is dead.

The next piece of information would be about the boss of this joke of a crime syndicate.

It was said that four years ago, the previous boss of the Port Mafia suddenly retired, handing over his position to the current boss. Where that retired boss went, no one knows. All they knew was that the new boss was formerly nicknamed Demon Prodigy in the underground world.

While they weren’t able to find out why he had gotten such a name, they were able to come across some interesting gossip, and that was this club right here.

It seemed that the Port Mafia boss had his eyes on one of the singers. Since that singer only sings on Tuesday nights, the Port Mafia boss will always come to the club at this time without fail.

Shigaraki looked up when the guard came back down and gave a curt nod to his companions. Without a word, they stepped aside, making way for the uninvited guests. Shigaraki didn't spare these grunts another look as he walked upstairs with the rest trailing behind him. 

Although he looked completely laid back, Shigaraki’s mind was turning as he played out countless scenarios of what this Demon Prodigy would be like. At the same time, two phrases continuously circled inside his head.

These were phrases that were heard repeatedly during Dabi and Mr. Compress’s investigation. Whenever the Port Mafia was mentioned, these two phrases would turn up without fail.

“Those who oppose the Port Mafia will be crushed by vicious gravity.”

And,

“Double Black.”

Shigaraki exercised his fingers as he arrived at that last step. Ruby red eyes locked on to the man sitting in a black round armchair with guards lined up beside him. There were three guards on each side, each of them dressed in the same fashion as the guys at the staircase.

The leader of the League of Villains had run countless simulations inside his head of how their first meeting would go.

…Never had he imagined it to be like this.

“Oh my!” Magne had to suppress a delightful gasp as the rest of the League of Villains arrived. Like Shigaraki, their eyes naturally fell to the person sitting at the center of the platform.

The man has short brown-hair curling at the tips and was dressed in tailored black suits with a long maroon scarf hung on his neck.

And sitting on his lap was another man.

This second man was dressed differently than the rest of the suited men here. Anyone could tell he was one of those locals that came to a nightclub to have fun. His clothes were disheveled with the straps of his tank tops falling off his shoulders and his jacket pulled down to his elbows.

Long slender fingers of the brown-haired man slid into those wavy orange locks. At first, he stroked the hair as if it were the finest silk, but the next moment he fisted the strands and pulled harshly.

The orange-haired man fell back with a sharp gasp leaving his open mouth before the rest of his voice was sealed by a pair of hungry lips.

Even with the loud music, the League of Villains could hear the moans and slick sounds being produced between these men’s connected lips.

None of them could see the face of the brown-haired man. With his head turned to the right, the only thing they were able to see were the bandages covering his left eye.

When Shigaraki snapped out of shock and disgust, he noticed that it wasn’t just the face. The man’s neck and even his arms were covered in bandages. The leader of the League of Villains furrowed his brows as he squinted at the redhead.

This must be that singer the Port Mafia boss had his eyes on.

Finally, the brunet pulled away from those kiss swollen lips with a wet pop. The sound made Shigaraki gag, but he held it back. His crimson eyes were locked onto the man like a hawk as he watched that face slowly turned, revealing a single dark eye that stared back into his.

“You’re the boss of the Port Mafia?” Shigaraki frowned. He had imagined countless times what this person would look like…but he never would have guessed for him to be so young. As grating as it was, the brunet looked around the same age as him.

“And?” The man leaned back against his chair, not forgetting to pull his little boy toy along. “Who might be asking?”

Shigaraki’s brow twitched. From how casual and laid back the other was behaving, it was obvious that this man didn't view them as a threat at all. 

No, it wasn’t just him.

Crimson eyes fell to the redhead. He was comfortably nestled against the Port Mafia boss like a cat. His head was tucked under the Port Mafia boss’s chin and his fingers played around with the man’s scarf. He occasionally rubbed his cheek against the man’s neck and whispered words they couldn’t hear while blue eyes filled with mockery looked down upon them.  

"You've been watching us for the past two days," Shigaraki stated.

“It’s common knowledge to introduce yourself when you’re the ones that came to me,” the Port Mafia boss pointed out. He grabbed the hand of the hooker that was traveling a little too low and brought it up to his lips for a kiss.

Seeming to take this as a sign to continue where they had left off, the redhead sat up. He wrapped his arms around the brunet’s neck, leaning in for a kiss when he was stopped by a slim finger pressed against his lips.

“Be a dear and go sing me a song.” The brunet spoke softly to the redhead, but loud enough for the League of Villains to hear. With the same finger that touched the redhead’s lips, he hooked the man’s tank top straps and pulled them back over his shoulders. After that, he grabbed the black fedora by his side and placed it onto the other’s head.

The redhead wasn't happy. He glanced at the guests and let out a small huff. He slid off the Port Mafia boss’s lap and sauntered around the table.

He didn’t even look fazed by the group of disturbingly dressed people and walked forward as if expecting them to make way for him. The League of Villains naturally wouldn’t step aside, but the redhead had no intention of backing down either.

In the end, he roughly shoved past them. Each villain received a rude knock on the shoulder as the hooker forcefully walked through them and down the stairs.

“The heck’s his problem?” Twice wondered out loud.

Never had any of these villains been ignored by ordinary civilians like this. It was one thing for the Port Mafia boss, but another thing entirely for a lowly prostitute.

This helped them become fully aware of their situation.

These people of Yokohama—none of them saw them as threats.

"We are the League of Villains," Kurogiri spoke with a hand against his chest as a polite gesture. “We have simply come to pay our respects to the boss of the Port Mafia.”

The brown-haired man crossed his right leg over his left and laced his fingers together over his knees. “Ah yes…” he said as if just remembering, “that little gang that All for One made.”

Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed when the man brought up his teacher’s name. While All for One was no longer a secret to the public after his fight with All Might, Shigaraki had a feeling there was more to it than that.

“Tell me, who came up with the name? I’m quite curious as to who is the one with such a…tasteful naming sense.”

Anyone could hear the sarcasm dripping from the man’s tone as they watched his lips curve upwards in a mocking smile.

“You—” Spinner was going to step up but Shigaraki quickly held out a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“You know about All for One,” the young leader of the League said with certainty.

“Unlike your world that prefers to keep secrets from their citizens, Yokohama is extremely open about our history.” The brunet leaned forward and picked up the glass of whiskey on the table. He swirled the golden fluid inside the cup as ice cubes clattered against one another.

Shigaraki watched this man's movements carefully. In enemy territory, they couldn’t let their guards down. Every movement, every word, Shigaraki was trying to decipher just what this man’s intentions were.

"Have you heard of the story of Icarus?" The Port Mafia boss suddenly asked. No one in the League of Villains responded, but the brunet didn't mind the lack of response and continued. "Despite his father’s warning, he grew too confident in his newfound ability to fly and flew too close to the sun. In the end, his wings melted off and he drowned in the sea.”

“What is your point?” Shigaraki gritted out.

“Oh? You don’t understand?” The man blinked innocently. “Then perhaps you’ll understand a fairytale better? Once upon a time, there was a little ant that viewed the world around him with contempt. He didn’t understand why he should work for the sake of the colony just because he was born as an ant. So when a mysterious power began to appear, he used all of his tiny legs to grasp onto this power. He decided that instead of continuing to serve the Queen, he would become the King and create a new world governed by new laws.”

The clanking sounds of ice cubes continued as the man swirled his glass around and around.

"He gathered his little ant followers and beat the opposing ants that stood in his way—including his brother who had hatched out of the same egg as him. He successfully took over the colony, but, overgrown with confidence, he decided to take over the world. As the first step in his conquest, he decided to target the elephant that lived near the ants' nest. With his little army of ants, they stormed into the elephant's territory…only to be squashed under its feet."

The man grinned at the League of Villains and took a small sip of his whiskey.

“They tried to bite the elephant, but their jaws were so weak and small that they couldn’t even break through the dried mud clinging onto its skin. They tried to crawl towards the elephant’s face and ears, but the elephant only needed to stomp its feet to shake them off its body. They tried to overwhelm the elephant with their numbers, but all the elephant needed to do was blow through its trunk and the ants would be swept away into the wind.

In just a matter of minutes, the army of ants was no more. The only one that remained was that tiny little ant that started this fight. In a panic, that little ant jumped into the ocean to escape the elephant, not knowing how it was so insignificant that the elephant never even saw them as enemies, but mere pests."

As the brunet spoke, he slowly poured the whiskey onto the floor, little by little until only ice cubes were left.

"A funny story, no?" The Port Mafia’s boss looked up, his dark eye locking directly with Shigaraki’s through the gaps between the fingers on his face.

Shigaraki was seething. His hands were clenched tightly by his sides and his body was shaking with rage.

Kurogiri tensed, ready to warp them out any second. It wouldn’t be wise for them to face off against the Port Mafia on their territory. Just as the dark purple mist on his body began to flicker, Shigaraki’s shaking stopped.

Kurogiri stared at Shigaraki in surprise. He hadn’t expected the boy to be able to restrain himself and force himself to calm down under such blatant provocation.

“So...” The Port Mafia boss leaned back to get comfortable in his seat, like a child would before playing his favourite movie. “What does the League of Villains want from the Port Mafia?”

"I came with a proposition, but it looks like there's no need anymore," Shigaraki spoke in a dull tone, causing the man to raise his brow.

"HEY, ALL OF YOU OUT THERE!" A voice screamed so loudly that it felt like the entire nightclub was shaking. “WHERE’S YOUR ENERGY?! DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE ALL DONE!”

A massive wave of cheers shook the club even harder than the loud voice had. The League of Villains turned. From this high up view, they were able to perfectly see the stage below. A familiar redhead was standing on the center of that stage, holding a mic in his hand and surrounded by a band.

“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?! THE NIGHT IS JUST STARTING, SO LET’S HEAR SOME REAL CHEERS!”

If possible, the cheers increased by tenfold.

Dabi was frowning.

Spinner had to cover his ears.

Twice, affected by the mood, cheered along with the crowd.

Magne also looked quite interested.

Toga just yawned.

Mr. Compress tapped his staff lightly against the floor.

As for Shigaraki and Kurogiri, the two of them only spared a brief look behind them before focusing back onto the Port Mafia’s boss. Said boss didn’t seem to care much about them, as he too was focused on the stage below.

“Hit it up, Tachihara!" The redhead snapped his fingers. The booming sound of guitars echoed across the club as the crowds roared.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

The drummer with a bandage across his nose sang into the mic as his drumsticks danced across the drums.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

The colourful spotlights that had been flashing across the club were replaced by flickering red lights. The yellow spotlight that had been shining on the stage also bled into red. In an instant, everything within the club was swallowed by the red light and at the center of that light was a single man.

“Woah uh oh—oh oh!

Woah uh oh—oh oh!”

Blue eyes slowly parted, looking across the crowd and towards the VIP section. At that moment, the redhead’s aura completely changed—as if he had become a completely different person from when he was sitting on the Port Mafia boss’s lap.

He pressed his lips into the cold metal of the mic and began to sing.

“What is the true identity of this uncomfortable feeling

Which lurks gently inside of you as if being entangled

Soaking me so empty that it burns me out

And having the chaotic afterimage lingering!

Receiving unwanted stimulation and peaceful contradiction at the same time

Making me subtly and exquisitely crazy!”

Shigaraki clicked his teeth at the disturbance, but he looked back at the Port Mafia boss and continued where they got cut off.

"I've always wondered what a city ruled by criminals was like," Shigaraki said as he held his hands up. “Everything that Villains have been fighting for—a world completely free of the existence of Heroes and law which Yokohama has achieved...”

The League of Villains all stared at the Port Mafia boss sitting high up on his throne.

“I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved

Continue to pay for the pain it brought

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment

I’m being controlled by the increasing anguish

Even though I know it’s only a Momentary Love.”

“It’s nothing but a joke.” Shigaraki’s hands fell to his side from the lack of motivation. “The boss of the world’s largest crime syndicate is here drowning himself in alcohol and hookers while the city is being run by a government that is still functional. The Port Mafia is nothing but a joke." Shigaraki huffed disinterestedly as he turned and began to walk off.

The rest of the League followed him. Obviously, they shared the same thought.

“Even though I deemed this stretched love to be no good

I thought that I wanted to hear more of your pure and innocent voice

That I heard while gazing at the night sky

The moon up there is beautiful.”

Shigaraki only felt the red light around him brightening before his entire body was slammed into the floor. The marble tiles underneath him shattered from the force. He let out a dry, breathless cough, having the air knocked out of his lungs. He tried to move, but it was as if an invisible force was crushing him from above.

He couldn’t even lift a finger!

When red eyes darted around, he realized that he wasn’t the only one. The rest of the League was the same. They were all lying within a crater created by the force, all of them unable to move. Shigaraki practically broke his neck trying to turn his head just so he could look up at that man sitting high up in his seat.

That single blackened eye was looking down at them with a smirk lifting his face.

“I’ve thrown away those regrets of love 200 million years ago

This uncertain despair is a necessity

This wild and crazy dance which supposed to be flat, just like a scattered flower petal

I became too absorbed to it that I keep tripping my footsteps

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment

I’m being controlled by the increasing anguish

Even though I have this Momentary Love.”

“You know, it’s very rude to talk during a performance,” the Port Mafia boss said disapprovingly while tapping his finger over his knee. That seemed to be a signal as the six guards by his side whipped out their guns and took aim at the group immobilized on the floor.

Immediately, Kurogiri tried to activate his Quirk to warp them away, but they only saw a blur of black, and Kurogiri was gone.

No one could react to what had happened.

It was only when they heard a loud crash followed by the wind blowing by did they realize what had happened. This power—whatever it is—had flung Kurogiri away.

“Let’s try to forget you little by little, until I can remember you no more! ALL TOGETHER!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!” The crowds sang to the song. “WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“I want to swallow a flood contains only of joy

I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved~!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!

WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“Gravity…!!” Shigaraki gritted his teeth.

"I wonder…just what gave you the impression that you could come and go as you wished?” The Port Mafia boss chuckled as he rested his elbow on the chair’s armrest and leaned his cheek against his knuckles.

“I want to swallow a flood contains only of joy

I’m super troubled to taste the act of being loved~!”

The singer grabbed the microphone stand and stomped a foot onto the speaker at the edge of the stage. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?! SCREAM LIKE YOU MEAN IT!”

“WOAH UH OH—OH OH!” The crowds were practically hollering from the top of their lungs at this point. Their faces were all red, not certain if it was due to the screaming or the red lighting.

“Continue to pay for the pain it brought

Opening a trance enough to make my heart shiver for a moment!”

WOAH UH OH—OH OH!”

“This is Yokohama. Ants should crawl back into their hole.” The Port Mafia boss raised his glass of ice cubes, sending them a meaningless cheer.

“I’m being controlled by this increasing anguish—NOW SING IT!” The singer pulled the mic away from his lips and pointed it towards the audience.

“LEAVE THE KISS FOR LATER!” The crowd sang together in perfect harmony.

At the very back of the club, where no one paid any attention to, the members of the League of Villains were lifted into the air one by one.

“I’M BEING CONTROLLED!”

“EVEN THOUGH I KNOW IT’S ONLY A MOMENTARY LOVE!!”

Their bodies crashed through the sturdy brick wall. The sound from the impact of their bodies and the shattering wall were drowned by the singing of the crowd. Within the quiet night outside, the villains flew across the street and smashed into the building on the other side.

Shigaraki slammed into the ground. He would have bounced off from the force and kept rolling, but Kurogiri appeared, warping all of them away and back to the warehouse that they set as their temporary hideout.

Even though Kurogiri intervened, many of them suffered heavy bruises and maybe even a cracked bone somewhere from the rough treatment. Shigaraki coughed as he painfully pushed himself over so that he was lying on his back and staring at the dirty ceiling of the warehouse. 

“Do you have your answers now, Shigaraki Tomura?” Kurogiri came over to check on the boy he was assigned to watch over.

“Ah,” Shigaraki slowly smirked.

Everything had gone according to his plans. All thanks to these Port Mafia bastards looking down on them.

Just from these two days of the Port Mafia watching over them, Shigaraki already knew that they didn’t see the League of Villains as threats. It was this underestimation that gave Shigaraki the confidence to waltz into their little party. If the Port Mafia had no intention of killing them before, they wouldn’t now.

This meeting only further confirmed this.

These Ability users obviously thought they were much stronger and looked down on people with Quirks. As the people sitting at the top of the food chain, it was even more so for them. These were people who wouldn’t bat an eye at a tiny ant crawling by their feet because, to them, they weren’t even worth wasting their time on. Even if that ant got in their way, the most they would do was kick it away. To those with their heads tilted so high up, allowing their shoes to become dirty from mere ants was the same as smearing dirt over their faces. 

That's why Shigaraki betted on the fact that the Port Mafia boss wouldn't kill them and lured him into using his power.

His bet was spot on.

“Crushed by vicious gravity…” Shigaraki recited as his body throbbed.

The way he was slammed down, lifted, and thrown…this wasn’t something as simple as turning gravity on and off. That man can freely change the gravitation of objects.

Shigaraki was a hundred percent certain that it was gravity manipulation.

Then here comes the main questions…

How many people can that man control?

What was the range of that power?

Were there conditions to activate that power?

Shigaraki recalled that man’s smug look and the way his fingers so gently held the delicate glass in his hand. For someone that had used his power on eight people, he didn’t look the slightest bit affected. His grip over the glass didn't change either. If it were a Quirk, there would have at least been some signs of strain on the body, but there were none.

Even though Kurogiri had explained that these Abilities worked differently from Quirks, Shigaraki was certain that even amongst Abilities, this gravity manipulation was amongst the strongest ones. Why else would that phrase about gravity constantly pop out in their investigation?

Shigaraki also knew that the power the man displayed was simply a demonstration. It was most likely not even a fraction of his real strength. That was the kind of person their opponent was.

Confident and arrogant—yet he had the strength and the brain to back it up. Shigaraki wasn’t going to naively think that the word prodigy only refers to his strength. The man was no doubt a cunning one. However, he was a young man who lived at the very top of the food chain, believing that the entire world revolved in the palm of his hand.

Shigaraki laughed.

He didn’t care how he looked to the others right now. All he knew was that he was going to crush that man. He will pull him down from the clouds and crush him along with that pitiful pride.

So what if the ants in the story failed to take down the elephant? That was a story from hundreds of years ago. The large elephant in that story was long gone. The only thing left behind was an elephant living inside a fortress created by its ancestor's remains. An elephant that had grown up without any natural predators around.

After this confrontation, Shigaraki was certain that the Port Mafia would remove their surveillance on them. For an overly confident and prideful man like that, he would purposely do it to further humiliate them and show them how insignificant they were.

Now, they have free access to this entire city.

“We’ll see who gets the last laugh, Port Mafia.” Shigaraki cackled.

The Selection War.

That will certainly be interesting.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

“This is bad!” Kaminari panicked as he looked around the empty street. How could there not be a single person around?! “We’re completely lost, aren’t we?!”

“What should we do?” Hagakure looked around at her classmates. “Should we call the teachers?”

“But if we call they’ll find out!” Ashido gasped in horror. She can already imagine their homeroom teacher’s face when he hears of what they did!

“Hey! Look over there!” Mineta pointed towards the park in front of them. Everyone looked over and saw the shadow of a person sitting on a wooden bench beneath a lamppost. Relieved that they had finally found somebody, they hurried over.

Once they were close enough to get a clearer look as to what the person looked like, all of them were shocked.

Sitting on the bend was not an adult, but a child.

They couldn't tell if the child was a boy or a girl, but the kid had split coloured hair like Todoroki. When the kid turned around at the sound of their approach and looked up, the first thing the teens noticed were those mismatched eyes.

The left iris had a circle, while the right was a star.

Having been born and raised in a world where people came in all shapes and forms, none of Class 1-A was surprised in any way by the child’s eyes. What surprised them was that when the kid turned, the doll in their arms became visible.

It was a grotesque looking doll bleeding out of its hollowed eyes.

“Who are you?” The child asked in a sweet, angelic voice.

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[sarahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Clem - Character Interrogation

1 How old is your character?

17

2 What's their relationship with their parents? (if their parents are dead then detail the story and their past relationship if you can find it) (if they have a different back story again, then enter that here)

Didn’t know her parents. She was left on the Library stairs as a child, and raised by the Head Librarian (Edwin) – an older, unmarried gentleman that had dedicated his life to the upkeep of the cities many magical and historical texts. Their relationship is very close, as Clem was never around children her own age, making Edwin the only other person she was social with.

3 Who raised them (ignore if listed in 2)

Head Librarian, Edwin (last name?)

4 Do they have any siblings? - If so, describe them and their relationship(s)

No

5 Are there any significant social interactions or events in the past that influence their character? - if more than one then list them here.

Not having any younger children around during her developmental years, Clem often used the books in the library as a means to escape. She finds it difficult to interact with other people because of this, preferring instead to read or play with imaginary friends.

6 Is your character married, or have they been married?

No

7 Does your character have relationships – (if not romantic, then friends) - describe them, and how they view their friends and how their friends view them

Just with Edwin, which she sees as a father figure. But she does become friends with the team of adventuring misfits, each of which helps her to overcome her problems in a unique way. Stag Beetle (I don’t have names for any of them yet) helps her to feel more confident physically, Ornithoptera Priamus (I really need to give her a name) helps her with her self-confidence/image, and Miller Bee helps with her leadership skills/ability to take charge of a situation.

8 If a social class exists in their world, to which one do they belong?

Middle-Lower Class, being an orphan, but also serving the crown.

9 Does your character have children?

No

10 Is your character religious, or do they have a mentor, someone they put on a pedestal, or do they take advice from someone (examples)

Advice comes from Edwin, whose Clem’s primary parental figure. During her travels she learns more from the adventure gang. She’s not particularly religious, but she has a soft spot for ancient myths and legends/folk tales.

11 How has your character’s upbringing shaped their view of the world?

Being raised within the confines of the library, the only link to the outside world Clem had, was historical texts. These were all written from her people’s point of view, so problems arise when she discovers that history written from the perspective of the victors isn’t always 100% accurate. Particularly stories about the spider people, the main ‘bad-guys’ of this story, are skewed to portray them negatively – which intern warps Clem’s perception of them.

12 Does your character have chosen accessories / clothing / tools / weapons

A long coat, turtle neck, leather boots and mittens. The clothing’s designed to show how shy and reserved Clem is as a character. I’m playing with the idea of giving her a satchel or backpack, but that’s going to be difficult with the wings.

13 Does your character have preferred other things, food, vehicle, place? - list and describe

A warm fire, a good book. She likes hot drinks and comfortable clothes.

14 Does your character have any notable enemies?

Miller Bee takes a while to warm up to her, his character is openly cynical of Clem and her flaws. He does eventually come around though. Other than that, there’s Vinerva the Spider Queen, whose more of an overarching/end game villain.

15 What does your character struggle with?

Trusting herself. She’s very out of her depth, traveling with experienced adventurers, and feels self-conscious as a result. Interacting with others is daunting, but the more time she spends out in the real world, meeting new people and having new experiences, the better she gets at it.

16 Describe your character’s world

Naturalistic Fantasy world, where characters share traits with a unique kind of insect. Clem specifically is based on a cecropia moth, and her color pallet will reflect this.  There’s different domains for different insect species – for instance, the spider people live in a place called The Undergrowth, which is a gloomy place full of mulching leaves and mosey rock.

17 Has your character ever crossed anyone?

No

18 What are your character’s goals in life?

Originally, to assume the position of Head Librarian, but after traveling with her new found friends, her goals shift to wanting to explore the world and write her own accounts of the different places and people she meets.

19 Does your character have a dark memory from childhood or the past?

Probably being shunned/excluded by any other children she rarely encountered.

20 How would a perfect world look to your character?

In the beginning, a world where everything is black and white and easy to sum up on a few pieces of paper. After she sees the world for what it is, she wouldn’t want to change anything.

21 What does your character fear losing the most?

Her home and Edwin. She’s afraid that if she doesn’t return The Book of Light, that Moth Queen Lucella will banish her, and she’ll lose both forever.

22 Is your character afraid to be alone?

Deep down yes. She’s been alone for the majority of her life, though she’s always wanted a friend/group of friends. The more she gets close to the adventurers she travels with, the more worried she is that she’ll lose them/ruin the friendship.

23 What would we first notice about your character if we met them?

Short, soft spoken, timid, intelligent. Also, moth.

24 Is your character a loner or gregarious – or something more complicated (if so, describe)

Very much a loner, Clem has a naturally shy personality type, and with a lack of children her age to interact with, she’s a bit emotionally stunted.

25 What are your character’s physical attributes?

She’s 5’6 with white hair and striking russet eyes. She wears a large coat and black turtle neck, tan boots and mittens. Her coat has slits in the back for her wings, which a based on the same pattern as a cecropia moth.

26 What is your character’s star sign?

Capricorn

27 What is your character’s gender?

Female

28 What is your character's occupation/previous occupations?

Apprentice to the Head Librarian

29 Is your character well mannered?

Yes, she’s very careful about being presentable and tidy.

30 What hobbies has your character undertaken over their lifetime?

Writing and reading. She experimented with journal keeping at one point, but abandoned it when she became disheartened by her repetitive life style. However, she picks it back up again when she starts adventuring.

31 What is your character’s personality type?

INFP

32 What would your character say their worst quality is?

Their introverted-ness

[nyxysabyss]

LEVEL HORIZON; YEAR FIVE.25 2/3; Tentative Direction

Chapter 35!

Peace is a journey of a thousand miles and it must be taken one step at a time. ~Lynden B Johnson

Lev Haiba smirks as the small redhead pauses beside the net with something of a guilty look of surprise, realization dawning.

“Eh… Kageyama?” Hinata says sheepishly as he looks at the Volley net. “I maybe spoke too soon. I didn’t realize we were talking about regular Volley…”

“You don’t say.” The setter deadpans.

“We only ever played aerial at the rookery, it makes sense that they wouldn’t know the ground game.” Asahi says and Noya cocks a brow at him.

“Did you plan this?” Lev grins. Kuroo may have gotten to see aerial Volley games— and maybe Mori, too, but he never had.

“They have a ground net just over there if we want to play a bit later. Mori could probably still play either way, though; he doesn’t need height for his position so I doubt he’d need wings, either.” He says instead, his leveler’s death glare quickly finding him across the circle of avians.

He can’t help the way his smile gets bigger. Ribbing the short cat has always been a staple in their relationship, an indirect contributor to them ending up levelers. Heh, he will never regret pushing that little bit extra the day they became levelers instead of backing off like he’d considered.

“Keep talking, you moron.” He dares, the slight twitch of his tail just like it had been that day. Hinata looks up at Kageyama uncertainly.

“We haven’t played Volley in five years. And my new wings don’t always react the same as my old ones. Can we really go up against Iwaizumi’s team?” He says with a half-pout, and Kageyama turns a dull cobalt gaze on him.

“Probably not. But we’ve already agreed. And stomaching one more loss to my father for the chance to escape unhindered— I have no intention of swallowing it without a fight, so get ready.”

“All right! I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to play regular volley with you guys.” Bokuto says and Noya glances up at him with a flat expression.

“Probably less fun than you are thinking— you are playing with Kageyama. You won’t catch any breaks if you are screwing up.” He says and Asahi grins a little sheepishly.

“He can be pretty tough sometimes. But he’s trying to motivate you.” He says.

“You mean he can be worse than normal?” Tsukishima asks with a cynical smirk. Kageyama scowls with annoyance, but Hinata’s face lights up.

“You haven’t seen Kageyama serious in a match, Blondy. He doesn’t usually get that into it in Ground Volley because it’s always casual play, but he goes all ‘Fwah!’ and hyper focused and tunnel vision— the whole bit when he goes up against the Grand King or Iwa’s team. He gets scary zoned and it’s so cool and it’s awesome when we win!”

The redhead’s sudden enthusiasm makes Lev think that even if he’d realized they’d be playing aerial Volley, the small spiker would have still agreed to play even if only to see Kageyama get into it.

“So the psychosis is a family thing.” The ibis drawls.

“No, it’s a sentry thing, so can it, Beanpole.” Noya mutters.

“Eh, how do you want us lined up Kageyama?” Asahi asks, pointedly steering the conversation away from the aggravated path it had been headed down. The avian heir looks around at them with assessment.

“Lev’s probably right, Yaku could play libero position if Noya starts slowing down. You okay with that?” He asks and the russet cat nods, and Lev’s eyes crease with excitement at the anticipation in his leveler’s smirk.

“Okay, keep tabs in the meantime and tell us where we are slacking. Bokuto, are you okay to fill Tanaka’s spot and hit strong side?”

“Bring it on!”

“Great. You can line up across from Asahi.” He says before looking to the short crow. “They don’t really have a libero position in regular volley, but… I think we should try it, because nothing gets past Noya. What do you think?” The small crow’s eyes crackle with a fire to match Hinata and Bokuto.

“Give me a couple cracks to get the feel of it and I’m game.” He says and Kageyama nods.

“Akaashi, are you okay hitting off side? We can both hit—”

“Tobio! You wouldn’t happen to have a spare setter, would you?” Kageyama blinks, a rigid tension slipping into his jaw before turning to look over his shoulder with surprise.

“Setter?” He asks.

“Sir, if you’d just—”

“We are going to need one. Yahaba is out on a scout mission with Kiyotani and Iwa’s shite for tosses.” Tooru cuts off the sentry leader’s aggravated interjection.

“If you’d just play, we wouldn’t have a problem.” He grumbles, but the Grand King waves him off.

“Nonsense, Iwa. How am I supposed to be a spectator if I’m in the game? Besides, I haven’t played in five years. I would be useless anyway.” He says with a remarkably well fabricated but false grin. Lev has the acute impression that he’s definitely scheming something behind that friendly exterior and resists the urge to twitch his tail restlessly.

“Eh… we haven’t played in five years either.” Asahi murmurs. Surprise flits across the rookery leader’s face.

“No?”

“Nope, we play ground Volley.” Lev supplies and the Grand King’s gaze settles on him with guarded appraisal. Yaku scoffs at him and the lanky cat is sure he’s made a remark his leveler thinks he shouldn’t have.

“Ground Volley?” He asks, his head tilting, and Lev grins, Mori’s hard look of disapproval not deterring him in the least.

“We can show you a bit after your match—there’s a net over there.” He says pointing to the other court.

“That would be… interesting.” He says before turning back to Feathers.

“I know you probably won’t consider it, but what about Nishinoya? I know he was doing some setting before he left… think we could borrow him?”

Lev’s gaze swings back toward the short crow only to see a black frown on his face as he looks up at Kageyama ready to argue. But the avian heir is already rebuffing the Grand King’s request.

“No. We need Noya for a new lineup we want to try.”

“That’s awfully selfish of you. Guess you’re just out of luck Iwa.” The Grand Kings says with a light laugh and the sentry leader rolls his eyes.

“I can toss.” Akaashi’s quiet voice slips between them and every eye swings in his direction. Lev’s head tilts in curiosity as Bokuto’s golden orbs dilate with slight alarm.

“Akaashi, you don’t—”

“It’ll be fine Bokuto. You just have to pick up the slack when everyone else starts dragging. I’m not as great at spiking anyway.” He says before meeting Kageyama’s intense cobalt gaze.

“Of course, only if you are okay with it.” He defers quietly.

“You’re sure?” The avian heir asks cautiously and the smaller owl nods. A muscle beside one of Feathers’ eyes twitches when he looks at Iwaizumi.

“Akaashi’s willing to toss… are you willing to play with an owl?” The sentry leader’s eyes have widened and he looks at his superior for input.

“Why not? He knows the game?” Tooru asks and Akaashi steps forward.

“I’ve been playing ground for five years, so I’ll probably be rusty, but give me a few minutes to try getting back into it.”

“Akaashi, do you have to play on the other side of the net?” Bokuto complains and the smaller owl turns an exasperated look at him.

“It’s one match. You will be fine for a half hour, you streaked pigeon. Kageyama’s the better setter anyway. And don’t you dare hold back, because I won’t. I’m going to make this guy send every spike straight at you.” He says, jerking a thumb at Iwaizumi, and Bokuto’s jaw clicks shut.

“Shots fired.” Noya murmurs with a smirk and Lev grins.

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled, then! Shall we?” The Grand King says with a welcoming hand and a smile that might be more curiously amused than fake, Lev’s not sure.

Akaashi nods once more to Kageyama’s team before following the rookery leader and Iwa back to their side to warm up a bit, his leveler’s golden eyes soulfully following him with a solid sullen pout. Kageyama stares after them a few moments before taking a deep breath and turning back to his team.

“Right. Yamaguchi, I was going to have you sub in for Hinata when he starts slowing down, but—”

“I won’t slow down, jerk!”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Kageyama remarks dryly without looking away from the freckled crow. “Are you comfortable hitting off-side?”

“Sounds good! What about Tsukki?”

“He’s a middle, he’ll line up across from Shouyou.” Lev almost chuckles at the abrupt direction.

Still no love lost there. They do amazing at putting aside their crap on the court, but they just don’t get along well.

As soon as the lineup is figured out they take to the air and Lev watches them all start going through the motions, Mori just off his elbow.

“It’s ironic when they finally come full circle and play their first aerial match together since leaving the rookery that it’s against the Grand King’s team—the very same from the last time they played.” His leveler murmurs, and Lev settles in the grass with a bright-eyed nod and a smile.

It’s taken over five years to get back to this point, but as he watches the avians he’s come to trust, rely on, and love, he can’t help but think all the struggle, pain, and emotional instability were worth the effort. Noya’s eyes are bright, the small crow reading the hits that Asahi sends at him, his body automatically pitch-diving to save them with a wild grin. The large bearded crow looks like he’s sincerely enjoying himself, his movements and swings fluid with no noticeable weakening yet in the wing that had been crushed in the earthquake.

Bokuto’s first couple hits are wild, but the streaked owl’s brow furrows in concentration while Kageyama simultaneously makes adjustments. Within a few more tosses, the large owl lets out a whoop as he connects cleanly, the ball thwacking off the broadside of his wing. Tsukishima’s face has narrowed with intense focus as he both works on timing for hitting and blocking, his umber eyes calculating and critical. Yamaguchi’s face creases with an easy smile when one of his serves lifts high in a perfect float, the ball jittering back and forth as it strikes through the air, it’s entire track completely different from Kageyama’s bullet fast drop serves.

The setter himself has slipped into an intense attentiveness, his eyes tracking everyone with practiced efficiency, and Lev finally realizes what the redhead means when he says the avian heir ‘zones’. His focus is totally on the ball and the court at all times, his tunnel vision forcing all of his attention to the matter at hand. And yet… even now, consumed by the motions of an aerial Volley warmup, Lev can tell that he’s still hyper conscious of his leveler. When Hinata finally connects for the first time, a small smile that whispers of pride, love, and elation tips his mouth.

And Shouyou, at the center of them all, lets out a shout that has Bokuto clapping him on the shoulder, Noya returning a rallying cry as he bowls him over in a hug, both Asahi and Yamguchi grinning, and even the ibis pauses to watch his small celebration at returning to the aerial game. Lev gins widely.

Hinata is finally playing ground Volley with the rest of them again when his wings are too tired to keep going with drills. They all knew he’d been probably more frustrated over that than anything else after his wings had first emerged. With his back muscles so weak that just balancing and walking was a task, Volley had been off the table entirely at first.

But this is somehow a little different than him getting back into Ground Volley.

Somehow, Hinata returning to the aerial game is much more profound—a significantly greater moral and personal achievement not just for the redhead, but them all. They’ve all seen him struggle and fail, seen him in pain and frustrated. They’ve seen him despondent and hopeful, overwhelmed and motivated, progress and regress. They all knew where this mountain of a setback began, they’ve all watched him walk this path, and they all know how far he’s come. To see him reach a goal he’s never voiced, but always wished for… Lev feels gratified to have seen his journey, been there to support him along the way.

Kageyama recalls their focus, but his mouth still quirks with that happy little upturn, his expression softer than Lev assumes it would be. The avian heir’s quiet reminder does the trick and their concentration redoubles so that by the time they are lining up at the net, everyone’s minds are focused with excited anticipation.

“Ne, Kageyama… think we’re still invincible?” Hinata asks and a predatory grin splits the avian heir’s face.

“Only one way to find out. Don’t drop your arm when you swing, got it, idiot?” Hinata’s eyes are bright when they fix on his leveler with joyful challenge.

“Don’t slack your tosses, moron.” He returns and the blue-eyed crow scoffs.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” He mutters before he glances at the ibis.

“Tsukishima.” The blond cuts a bored look at Feathers’ address.

“Don’t pull your punches. I know what you’re capable of.” The ibis blinks before a condescending smirk curls his mouth.

“Shouldn’t be that hard; they all remind me of you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem getting fired up.” Kageyama’s maniacal grin matches the blond’s and they line up. Lev smirks.

Those two might not see eye to eye, but still… that relationship has come leagues from where it started. Mori’s right. With collaboration comes understanding even if they clash in every aspect.

And then the match starts, Bokuto tossing one last look of betrayal at his leveler across the net as Hinata serves. Lev’s own better half is on his feet in a mere two rallies, the short cat barely able to restrain himself to watching quietly on the sidelines instead of pacing anxiously. The lanky cat is sure he’d be an excellent candidate for a coach someday, and privately chuckles at the thought of the small cat battling for respect from a team who would likely all have outgrown him.

“May I sit?”

Lev blinks and looks up to find the Grand King beside him with that genial smile from earlier and suppresses the urge to get warily to his feet.

“Sure… though I think you would be more comfortable around your own.” He says with a shrug and a small smirk instead. The rookery leader’s head tilts, that easy expression never wavering.

“What makes you say that?” Lev’s grin becomes genuine.

“Because I’m uncomfortable. Kageyama wasn’t kidding. There’s something about you that makes my hair stand on end, and I can’t decide if it’s the fake smile that almost makes me relax or the air of threat that radiates from you just behind it. It’s like you are prepared to off me at any point, and you’ll do it with a laugh. It’s quite disturbing.” Lev says, and the Grand King’s mouth quirks with a hint of true amusement as he eases down beside him.

“That’s a given; you’re a cat.” He says lightly and Lev turns his attention back to the match where Kageyama just highlighted Bokuto for a dynamite hit. As he listens to the streaked owl gloat to a disinterested Akaashi, his mouth twitches.

“Then between you and me, I’ve lived with Feathers for five years and in that time, I’ve seen his life saved more times by a cat than a bird.”

“Is that a subtle brag?” Lev can almost hear the cocked eyebrow in his tone and his own rise as he looks back at the rookery leader.

“Brag?” He asks with a laugh. “No, I’ve never saved his life, but Mori has… and Kuroo has twice— although, it’s probably a good thing he’s not here. He’d probably kill you on sight.”

“And you wonder why I’m uneasy with my son living with cats.” He says with a tight smirk. Lev shakes his head slightly, his green eyes dancing with mirth.

“Kuroo’s avian reservations are almost entirely restricted to you and your sentries. You did take out over half his clan, after all. But Kageyama isn’t you. Kuroo’s nearly died saving your son’s skin more than once; Feathers is easy to figure out and Kuroo identifies with the things he desires most.”

“Does he?” The Grand King asks absently before looking at him with heavy focus.

“Would you know what’s up with his wings?” He asks and Lev’s brow furrows as he tries to keep up with the rookery leader’s abrupt topic change.

He frowns a little because it feels like he’s just been asked something he’s pretty sure Mori wouldn’t want him casually discussing with this guy… but the creases at the edges of the Grand King’s eyes—he recognizes them. This man…is hurting.

“Eh? Wings?” He asks curiously.

“The ends… why are they white? I knew him since he was moments old before they ever grew in and they’ve never come in white.” The Grand King clarifies and Lev’s confusion clears.

Yeah, definitely something Mori probably won’t like him talking about, and to the man beside him no less.

Eh… oh well. I’ll grovel later. I know one or two good tricks to mollify him.

“Ah, that. Mori’s the leveler expert, but since he’s mine, I pick up some things, too. The white tipping means that his leveler was injured enough that the only thing that saved him was the activation of that bond. Basically, Hinata would have died if Kageyama wasn’t there—which means they both would have.” He says.

“So that bond saved their lives? The stories are true?” The Grand King asks with narrowed eyes.

“Not on its own, it can’t. The leveler bond actually has very little power unless the pair are together. But you don’t have to be together—or even know your leveler—for it to take you out if your other half dies.”

“Sounds more like a curse than a blessing. How do you know who your leveler is?”

Lev frowns slightly, his eyes drifting to Mori as he calls out to Asahi to start his approach quicker after one of his hits is blocked. The small russet cat was the only exception he knew of to the rule; no one really knew who the avians’ levelers were until they found out via the breaking or binding side effects. Somehow, the small feline just knew, but the rest of them… everyone’s guess was a good one until they had a confirmation.

“You don’t.” He says, his thoughts drifting. Mori had such a keen eye and such a powerful sense of perception that he’d had Lev figured out while the grey cat himself had been clueless.

“I was born the youngest of three by only a half hour— triplets. By the end of my first day of life, I was one of twins. My sister and I, Mom used to tell us she didn’t think we’d make it either because we were so small. But we did. Alisa and I survived infancy, got bigger, lived. We were inseparable as kids, always did everything together. We started walking, talking, hunting together— everything. She was my best friend.

“But like, five centuries ago, we were cornered by some hawks while we were out playing by the creek. She died that day… and do you know what her brother did? He fled. He left her there and ran, only to return after dark to a cold, stiff body. I don’t know what they all did to her, but I know she was missing one of her ears and she’d been drowned. They’d tied her up and tossed her in the river.

“And instead of even going for help, I ran and hid. Mom didn’t tell me about how we’d beaten the odds as kids anymore after that.” He says, the recollection suffocating him.

“Your reaction as a child was normal. An adult would probably act differently.” The Grand King’s oddly reassuring remark surprises the grey cat as it pulls him back to the present, even if the note of puzzled annoyance that still bleeds into it does not. He smiles slightly with a short nod.

“I’m sure you’re right; you seem smart like Mori… but it didn’t matter how old I was, it didn’t change how much knowing I abandoned her hurt. I still think about her all the time, still wish she was here, too. I’ve been stuck in that memory for centuries. But five years ago, I glimpsed a future for the first time since that awful day when I ran into Hinata and Feathers. I met that future a year later.

“I don’t remember what it was like not to have white ears, didn’t even realize they weren’t natural when Mori first pointed them out. But they were a dead giveaway that I’d lost someone very close to me. When he asked me about it, all I could think was that if there was one person whose death had irrevocably changed my world, it was hers. Mori’s a bit like her— she was taller than he is and less angry all the time… but I could still embarrass her on a whim.” He says with a small smile.

“So, the white ears are like the frosted wings.” The Grand King says, a bid for clarification that recalls the grey cat’s focus.

Lev nods once, his gaze landing on the russet cat as he barks at Kageyama for sending a toss just out of Tsukishima’s reach. He almost laughs at the ensuing grudging apology from the avian heir and amused scoff from the ibis, but the very next volley Hinata snaps into place out of nowhere and that devastating quick finally makes its appearance. Lev grins; they are finally finding that rhythm. When he glances over, he’s pleased to see the look of surprise on the rookery leader’s face.

“Pretty impressive, huh? That new quick is murderous on the ground; I’m surprised they’ve managed to translate it to the air game so fast.” A small smirk slips onto his face, but Tooru’s eyes remain on the match in front of them with rapt focus.

“It might have been a fluke.” He says and Lev snorts.

“Kageyama doesn’t have flukes…he’s always on point, and there’s no one who matches up with him better than Hinata. Not even Suga and Daichi are that synced, no matter how much better they get along off the court.” He says with a laugh before turning back to the game.

“Sugawara and Sawamura? They are alive, still?”

“Of course! So is Tanaka, he was a sentry you’d know, too, I guess. They’re just all back home with the others yet.”

“Others?” The Grand King asks and Lev irrefutably knows this is somehow a question Mori would forbid him to answer. So he grins widely when he looks at the Grand King.

“Yep, others! This isn’t everyone, there’s a bunch more. We’re supposed to be sending ravens with every town we hit.” He says easily and the rookery leader cocks a brow at him but doesn’t push the issue. Lev is glad, because he’s not that good at keeping critical information under wraps. His smile softens just a bit and his emerald gaze drifts.

“Leveler bonds are a curious thing. Mori says it doesn’t matter if its avian, feline, or whatever, the bond can exist between anyone. It can be between lovers, siblings, parent and child, allies, enemies, strangers, friends. A leveler is supposed to bring out the greatest person you can become; it might not be typical, but that person doesn’t have to be a significant other. The difference between felines and avians is that we kind of get to ‘pick’ ours while birds always seem to exist exclusively in pairs. Mori has a theory on that, too, but I think he might be reaching on that one.” He says.

“And what does Mori think?” The Grand King prompts with a patronizing smirk and Lev blinks.

“I’m not as good at the leveler stuff and he explains it better, but… he thinks leveler bonds develop in response to circumstance. Basically, the bond coalesces in response to a shared incident or experience. I think he’s thinking too hard on this one, though, and the link is established as soon as both exist. But avians have no real way of knowing who theirs are for sure unless they sustain injury, or something like that.”

“‘Or something like that’?” The rookery leader echoes skeptically and Lev shrugs.

“Like I said, Mori’s better with the leveler stuff.”

“I’m curious, Cat. If I make you uncomfortable, why are you telling me all this?” Lev’s brow furrows and he looks back at the Grand King’s searching dark eyes.

“Because you asked?” He answers, unsure why the rookery leader wants to know. The way his face creases into a much too friendly smile lets him know he missed the mark.

“Subtlety and nuance is lost on youth, apparently.” He murmurs more to himself than Lev and the lanky cat’s head tilts.

“Not that it matters, but I don’t think there is anything subtle about you, Grand King.” He says, because really, the man is a walking beacon.

The way he talks, dresses, acts, his entire personality really—just the way he carries himself, he stands out as nobility or at the very least, privileged. And that doesn’t even cover the rigid posture and movements that betray his military standing. The Grand King looks at him for a moment with a cocked eyebrow and then laughs.

“I suppose so. Why did you suggest a Volley match? Why would you help me?” He says with a grin that’s more real than fake.

Ah. So that was the real question.

Lev wants to bang his head against a tree, because he was raised in the forest, not a court or even a town. Mori would have been far more skilled at navigating this guy with all of his world knowledge; the tall cat knows very little about decorum and subterfuge. Still, he started this and even if he’s not as versed in politics, he can still offer a candid response.

And with wry chagrin, he realizes that this is probably why the Grand King zeroed in on him to begin with. Nearly all the Karasuno unit had all remarked on his uncanny ability to read people and manipulate them, hadn’t they? If he was that good at it, he’d probably have picked up that the tall cat was easy to ply for information—skies knew the other avians had all figured that out by this point much to Mori’s annoyance. Lev mentally shrugs, resigned to the reality that he will probably be facing an angry leveler once more.

“Because Feathers is one of ours and you are a parent. A child craves affection and approval, and a parent will frequently pay any price to see their kid well. I think what you want probably isn’t that different from what he wants.” He says. Mori won’t be happy with him, he’s certain, but that’s okay. Family is important—especially when it’s ready to make an effort to connect.

“And what do we want, Cat?” The Grand King asks, a brow rising up his forehead curiously. Lev can’t decide if the man beside him is just insulting him or is honestly interested in what he thinks—or perhaps both.

Eh, don’t really care, he muses and turns to look back at the game only to find his leveler’s gaze fixed on him with a well-worn homicidal stare. Ah. He should have noticed that it had gotten quieter the last few moments.

Well, that means time’s almost up.

“I think at the moment, you just want the chance for a relationship; he probably shares that, but before that he’s always just wanted to keep the people he cares about safe. There has to be some common ground there?” He asks as Yaku starts their way with an irritated stomp, so he continues without any prompt.

“Blood calls to blood by its very nature, but… if you pressure him, you’ll set him against you. Use Hinata to force him, you’ll make an enemy for life. Threaten that which he will and has killed to protect, and you’ll lose him forever. His next step has always been to disappear entirely. If you push him, he will go off grid and overseas, and you can be sure you won’t find him again.”

“Lev!” His ear flicks sheepishly in Mori’s direction. He does sound irritated. But really… sometimes it’s almost worth it to get his leveler worked into a frenzy.

“He might be different from the way you remember, but he is still the same person. I think he’d be willing to give you the opportunity to get to know him again, but he’s going to need a show of faith before he’ll consider it. I guess it comes down to whether you hear him and are able to trust him.” He says getting to his feet. The Grad King’s eyes watch him sharply as he mimics the motion, the crow having to look up at him as he straightens. The easy smile hasn’t wavered from his face, but the tension is back around his eyes.

“Trust him to what?” He asks with a hard edge and Lev smiles.

“To be Tobio Kageyama. To be your son.” He says simply as Yaku stomps up to him.

“You freaking grimalkin. You have an attention span worse than that of a five-year-old. You are supposed to be cheering your team on, not making friends with the other side.” He growls, latching onto Lev’s collar. He has to bend a little as Mori yanks him along behind himself, but he smiles impishly all the same.

“Come on. And don’t think I don’t know what you are up to, you cheeky twit!” The short cat snaps. Lev glances back toward the Grand King once with a devious glint as if to say ‘Watch this’. He snakes his arms around his leveler and lifts him from the ground in a suffocating hug.

“It’s alright, Mori, he just had questions about the other short guys.”

A moment later, Lev is still grinning madly despite the sharp pain from his ear where his leveler pinches it with one of his blackest scowls since they’d met while spewing colorful threats. His green eyes dance, the talk with the Grand King largely sidelined for later contemplation, because Mori’s getting remarkably worked up, and he just knows tonight is going to be one for the records.

Level Pair ; Chapter 1; Chapter 34; Chapter 36

A/N:  So Lev chapter. I never had one planned for him and this one came up for grabs in the last week and I was like... 'why not'; it was a struggle. It feels super disjointed to me- like i had a goal but no idea how to reach it, so I took the clumsiest, longest route to get there. Lev is a character I am comfortable writing from the outside; the moment I try to step into his mind, I feel lost, so I apologize if this one seems really all over the place.

Next chapter is also unfinished as of right now, and I'm flying tomorrow again, so if I post, it will probably be late like today's (sorry for that, it wasn't intentional). In the meantime, stay awesome and have a wonderful evening guys!