#the hero nobody wanted but the only one they got

[the-knight-of-the-stars]

Are we gonna talk about how that finale entirely erased any conversation about class divisions or are we too focused on ships?

Are we gonna talk about how Caitlyn for a good chunk of the season willingly enforces violence and opression against the lowest class, no doubt directly causing more deaths and suffering, and she is forgiven by the narrative without any meaningful reflecting?

Her great moment getting together with Vi is right after she JUST had a conversation with Jinx where we see she STILL doesn't recognize any class bias she clearly has, insted making it about HER.

Her and the other enforcers are treated like noble heroes in the final battle, all the blame put on Ambesa. Vi's happy ending is getting into a relationship with the exact type of person who perpetuated all the suffering she endured as a child.

Are we gonna talk about how Jayce never leaves his privilege pedestal, never actually reflects on how he was also enforcing violence to the people of the undercity and living on his bliss of progress at THEIR expense?

Jayce, who got help on every step of the way to get to where he is, who wasn't disabled, who never lived the kind of poverty or class obstacles Viktor did, who never recognized the harm he enabled and was complicit to, HE was the one to tell Viktor "People build their own destiny." and "There is beauty in imperfection" ?????

Not to mention the whole bit where he implies Viktor did all that because he wanted to "eradicate what he thought was weakness"??? Didn't we stablished Viktor wanted to HELP THE PEOPLE FROM THE UNDERCITY TO HAVE BETTER LIFE CONDITIONS?? don't try to gaslight me.

I know this is just a TV show, but I need to remind everyone that what perpetuates opressive, discriminatory and violent systems as long and as deeply as they do is indiference. Is turning your head and enabling others to stay ignorant.

Edit: You guys are misunderstanding me. And I admit it is probably my fault, I wrote this high with emotion I wasn't as eloquent.

Jayce's exact choice of words or his time living in the alternate world is nowhere near my point.

My point is, that the narrative is establishing that the privileged character, is the one that has to show (and is quite literally, textually, always the one to show) the underprivileged character that "he was looking at life the wrong way." Forgetting that Viktor's journey of feeling powerless was greatly influenced by the fact he was poor and from the undercity.

That's what I meant by it erasing the part of the plot about class systems. In the end, the story only requires Jayce to understand Viktor's struggle on a superficial level, but the text never recognizes that it as the product of a deeply rooted SYSTEMIC ISSUE. One Jayce and even Viktor on some level, benefited from and perpetuated.

Understanding Viktor still doesn't give him any moral ground, and nobody ever challenges him on that because the story isn't interested in that anymore.

And the same with Caitlyn. She knows what she did what's wrong, fine, she feels bad. Like I said, she still has a class bias, and no character challenges her on it again because the story derails to magic and fighting and whatnot.

The plot just forgets (or ignores) that layer of the story despite it being so prominent up until now.

And ignoring the class discussion does a disservice to every single character because they were initially built on it. You can see it in how they lose the essence they had on s1.

I know y'all love the characters and want to empathize with all their motivations, okay? But the fundamental issue is that characters also represent things, and more so in a story as political as this one. We also have the right to point out that the show told us they represented something and then abandoned that narrative.

What do I think they could have done differently? If I tell you scene by scene we could be here for an entire year. The gist of it is: I think they should have stuck to the character themes they already had established.

Vi as someone fiercely loyal to the undercity beyond her relationship with Powder/Jinx, and being "cursed" by the role of the older sister. Jayce as someone with good intentions but who is ultimately limited by his blind idealism. Mel as a cunning politician who thinks she is on the right path because she isn't violent like her mother, not realizing she is still perpetuating it. Caitlyn as someone kind and compassionate who realizes the institutions she believed in are fundamentally flawed, and because of the way they are built will never be on the side of kindness. Etc, etc.

None of that gets any meaningful resolution.

I am glad if you liked it, or got something from it, you are entitled to your opinion.

I wanted to say this because I was angry, and still am. Because there was so much incredible potential, and honestly, to me, it feels like the writers chickened out on actually saying something in the end.

That's all I have to say about that.

[insomniac7809]

So when I first read The Ellimist Chronicles as a kid, my big takeaway was that it was a) really weird and b) undermined the whole idea of Q-style vaguely benevolent moderately omnipotent dickhead with obnoxiously inscrutable motives. It wasn't for a while that I realized just how much b) was not only on purpose but was deeply connected to the themes of the series.

Because from the start, the whole premise is that these kids aren't supposed to be the ones dealing with this. They have no fucking idea what they're doing, they're just some random teenagers who got caught up in it by bad luck because they pratfalled into the wrong place at the wrong time and wound up with the knowledge of the situation and the power to do something about it dumped on them, so now it's up to them even if they aren't up to it. They can't get help from the grown-ups and the warrior-prince space alien who would know what to do and would have had the answers is dead, they just have to make it up as they go and do the best they can.

And then a year and a half after the first book, we get The Andalite Chronicles, which is the perspective of the warrior-prince space alien who was supposed to be handling this and, it turns out, he has no fucking idea what he's doing. He'd just been a random cadet with big dreams until he got pratfalled into some all-powerful ancient artifact nonsense and this vaguely benevolent moderately omnipotent and dickhead whose obnoxiously inscrutably motivated schemes made this random cadet a hero and leader of his people, so now it's up to him even if he's not up to it, until he would go on to spend his last moments dumping the knowledge of the situation and the power to do something about it on some random kids he ran into, because what could he do, except make it up as he went and do the best he can.

And then we finally get the curtain peeled back on the obnoxiously inscrutable motives of the vaguely benevolent moderately omnipotent dickhead who's been subtly meddling with our protagonists since the series began, and it turns out the grand revelation is: he has no fucking idea what he's doing. He's Some Fucking Gamer whose bizarre series of near-death experiences and one-sided grudges lead to him pratfalling into the nearly infinite knowledge and power to try and achieve the best of all possible ends for all people who ever will be, so now it's up to him even if he's not up to it. Every time he uses some of his infinite power is an exercise in maximum effect with minimal involvement, and every loss, and even every win, comes with an almost incalculable human* cost, except that he can calculate it exactly, but the only alternative is to take no plays at all.** All he can do is make it up as he goes and do the best he can.

There are no grown-ups. Nobody has all the answers. The only thing to do is try to figure it out and do the best you can.

*you know what I mean **An important change in framing that Andalite Chronicles is delivered in Elfangor's last moments as a final statement, while Ellimist is delivered in the last moments of a character we've followed the whole series, although we haven't learned who it is yet. They want the closest thing they know of to a god to tell them if they mattered, while the Ellimist is asking one of his acceptable losses if they can forgive him.

For as much as I love Animorphs, I’ve never actually read it in order all the way through. It was always scattered entries, whatever I could find at the library or buy at garage sales. There’s even a small handful I haven’t read at all. That’s why, for my New Year’s resolution, I plan to reread the series in its entirety. However, I know how my brain works, and I’m afraid I might lose motivation and quit too soon. That’s why, after each book, I will add to this post with, in my opinion, the most fucked-up part of the book, as well as the silliest part (because anyone who’s read these books knows that those are the two main tenets of the series). That way, I’ll have a publicly available record to hold myself accountable to if I start slacking, plus a nice thread of propaganda to hopefully suck more people in. I plan to read one mainline book a week, starting with:

[swaqcenix]

༻ Stardust of your soul | N. Romanoff ༺

Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Summary: Being new to SHIELD and it's agents you'd always kept yourself to yourself & hovered in the background. Yet a new chapter opens up when being invited to the compound for 'team bonding,' and it turns out another star shined just as you did without even knowing. Simply the trust to fall asleep on another's lap really does open up the deepest of souls.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff & sentiment of how Natasha falls asleep on your lap..

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x gn!reader, sort of black cat x golden retriever (ish?)

Word Count: 3.8K

DC: cafekitsune

AN: I don't know where I got this idea from, but I wanted to get back to writing again, so I figured some soft reading of Natasha falling asleep on the reader's lap by accident would cut it! <3 Might make a P2!

(also if ppl can teach me how to get a sapphic relationship-)

Walking through the halls of the building always seemed daunting when you worked for SHIELD. It wasn't like you feared anyone there, just everyone was so equipped and skilled- they'd been there for a good chunk of time. Many beginning their journey's with SHIELD years before yourself, forming bonds and friendships.

You were merely a baby taking their first steps within the walls of SHIELD headquarters, simply learning the ropes & where to start. Still, you were eager to always take on a challenge and being accepted as a SHIELD agent wasn't something you'd expect to happen, yet changing that decision to take on the role wasn't even a consideration for you.

A simple few weeks at the headquarters was all it took for you to slowly begin to feel more comfortable with the said environment. You'd spoken to Maria Hill the Deputy Director of SHIELD and while she could be intimidating, she and yourself shared views similar making it easy to get on. Fury was a little more on the complex side but some of the other agents you'd definitely enjoyed bonding with.

You'd been called in to a meeting for god knows what, but that was the generalised idea these days. Most agents yourself included never seemed to be informed prior of your missions only simply assigned upon the day. It did albeit stress you out given your organised schedule and how you felt with being thrown into the deepest ends of the pool was stressful.

However, when you dedicated your time and complete energy and effort within SHIELD's walls and work you had to be prepared for anything, without fail. You'd found yourself being so lost in thought with how you'd ended up in this role and position that you'd realised you'd come to a halt.

Seeing the door to Fury's office was a surprise to your eyes, having not realised you'd walked all that way. Slowly bracing yourself, your hand reached for the door handle before it was pulled open and Nick Fury himself stood there in the flesh.

"Come on in," His voice that always sent chills down your spine seemed warmer than usual today.

It did strike you as odd but you hardly had the time to think more of it. Instead you simply merely nodded entering the room at a gentle pace, before your shoes caused a loud squeak of a sudden stop.

Your eyes glanced around the room to see people you hardly ever thought you'd be in the same room with. The Avengers, the actual known hero's themselves sat around a table as their eyes slowly drifted up to study you.

Tony, Steve, Clint, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, Rhodey & Sam. All of them were waiting for your arrival.

Natasha let out a soft smile at you nodding an approving look, which didn't surprise you at all. You'd become accustomed to the redhead while at SHIELD given her status and her ability to train new recruits which yourself was in fact one of them.

You'd never quite been able to read her fully, only knowing she had a closed off position about her, including the past everyone was forbidden to know of. All the recruits and fellow agents knew that it was a road nobody dared cross, including interacting with the redhead outside of working hours.

Standing there waiting for Fury or anyone to say something felt like an agonising amount of time & it was making the clock feeling like minutes were passing by. In reality, it was most likely to be mere seconds before Fury coughed and began to fill the silent room with his voice.

"So Y/N.. There's been some form of talk amongst myself and the Avengers," he began and you felt your body froze.

Without the intention of doing so, you glanced over at Natasha with concern and worry glazed over your eyes. Nobody else would recognise the small but clear look she gave to you, it was something you'd come to somewhat understand. She gave you a curt but firm nod and her eyes softened only for a moment but that moment was enough. It was okay.

You felt your shoulders and body language relax a tad as you nodded towards Director Fury to continue his conversation.

"We feel that.. we need a new member to work with the Avengers. Think of it as a new position a higher role. One that we thought you'd fit most well into. More like a team bonding so you'd say."

You gawked at the older man before shaking your head back to reality as it sunk into your brain and your bones. He thought you were the best for the role? You as in just someone from a town that had nothing now working along side the Avengers, more specifically her.

"M-Me? What, there has to be some sort of mistake. Director I don't know if I-" You began stuttering over your words.

While you did admire your strengths and abilities, it was a big step to be working with the earth's mightiest hero's. You certainly didn't want to make a fool out of yourself, however Fury decided to interrupt you.

"All due respect Y/L/N, it wasn't really a request. We need you on the team. The mission that's required is going to need all the assets and best that we've got. It's important," he stated firmly looking around the room at the Avengers before moving his gaze back to you.

"Director I-"

"They'll be trained and ready. I'll make sure of it," you heard her voice echo through the room with determination.

Your eyes drifted around the room landing onto her, staring at Natasha in pure shock and partial annoyance. You knew your own weaknesses and strengths and didn't need anyone speaking for you.

However, she simply stared back at you with a firm all serious look showing she wasn't backing down. Why was she so fixated on having you on the team? Her eyes changed ever so slightly and only for a moment looking at you with something you couldn't quite place. However, in a small blink just a tiny moment the look disappeared and her normal stoic expression was back.

"Thank you Agent Romanoff. Anything anyone else has to add?" He asked looking around the room with sheer authority.

Nobody seemed to speak, Tony flamboyantly flapping his hands up to speak for them. Clearly they weren't against having you on the team, you must be some important asset they required. With nobody speaking, you were all dismissed and the Avengers all fluttered out of the room.

All except one. Natasha stood leaning against the wall, half slouching her gaze fixated onto you. Head tilted in an almost questioning way towards you. Mirroring the action, you stared at the redhead inquisitive facial expressions painted on both of your faces.

Natasha cracked first, shifting off the wall walking towards you with her hands in her pockets, her signifying black leather jacket around her shoulders.

"You know, you should have more belief in yourself Y/N. We both know your abilities, I've witnessed them myself," she added her eyebrow arching.

"I.. You think so?" You managed to get out slowly.

Without a warning she leaned forward, whispering in your ear causing your body to stiffen. With her being this close you could smell her perfume, invading your senses like a warm blanket alluring you and drawing you in. The proximity of her was sending heat to your face and you knew her voice was sending shivers down your body.

"I know so sweetheart, I know so," she hushed out and if the floor was made of lava you'd melt right through it and into the ground beneath you.

Natasha was like a temptress, a woman who knew how to lull people in just with a few simple words. You knew this but still felt yourself floating towards the singing of the siren.

She stepped back smirking at you sending you a wink causing your heart to hammer against your chest. It was like she was looking into the depths of your soul and you were trying not to give her the key to opening your soul.

Just before she opened the door to exit the room she flung her body around to face you at an angle. The tension in the room was intense, dancing around you in a heavy feeling as she spoke.

"Training starts at 7. Don't be late sweetheart. I don't do late."

With that she left the room without allowing yourself to respond and you felt an internal groan bubbling inside of you. She was seeing into your soul now you needed to try and allow Natasha to let you see her own.

Tossing and turning at night in your bed whilst the minutes passed by seemed to be what was happening for you. The clock was ticking yet you were significantly restless especially knowing training started at 7am with Natasha wouldn't settle your mind to rest.

Her words played over and over again in your head, on a constant never ending loop. 'I know so sweetheart.' You couldn't remember the last time you had that much confidence running within your veins, let alone someone else. Yet, her voice ran through your mind, your soul almost touched by her belief.

Turns out you must have been laying there for that long tossing and turning throughout the night you'd managed to not succumb to a single ounce of sleep. That perhaps would come back to be biting you on the ass at some point today. Especially if you have training with Natasha.

As your head spun to view the clock next to the nightstand, elicting a loud groan from your lips. It read the time of 6:15AM. That's always your luck, never helping with the concept of you being the polar opposite of a morning person. If anyone was grouchy in the morning it would always be yourself.

Flinging the covers off yourself, grudgingly, you found your legs dragging themselves to the bathroom to have a shower, the need to freshen and wake up becoming excruciatingly stronger by the minute.

The water cascaded down your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips. It warmed you up within the speed of light, relaxing your current running thoughts, muscles relaxing slightly. Taking a shower has always reassured your senses with its water-hug, warm and cozy.

As you dressed for the training, you slipped out of the room deciding to take a small detour around the compound. The passing of Agents in the corridor, seemingly more professional and adjusted to the surroundings of the compound than yourself.

It almost made you shrink into yourself, wanting to knock your confidence. However, Natasha's words from the previous day replayed in your head on repeat, warning your insides for reasons unexplained.

Almost as if by sheer luck you'd past the main lounge of the compound where a few of the known Avengers seemed to be sitting around. That included, Tony, Steve, Wanda and Clint. As if your presence was like a dark shadow lingering into the room, all of their heads seemed to twist into your direction.

One thing you despised being more than anything is being the centre of all attention, eyes gazing on you like you'd become to be on a stage you weren't supposed to take. It bought bile rising from the depths of your stomach up at the mere concept of it.

Yet, their gazes lingered in a none judgmental way, almost like the comfort of understanding, an overwhelming sense but peaceful. Steve was the first to speak up, nodding at you firmly but not with an intensity of malice.

"If you're after the training room, it's just down the hall. Natasha's waiting for you there. Good luck, just believe in yourself."

With a curt, but gentle nod you headed to the training room giving your best definition of a half smile. Though, it probably looked more like a grimace, unintentionally of course.

As you entered the training room, Natasha was working on her punching exercises. Each one better than the last. The glimmer of sweat trickling down her cheeks and side of her hair, shone like water in the moonlight. For a moment you almost stopped to admire her.

However, you'd clearly being staring too long considering, when you came out of your dazed trance, Natasha stood smirking at you. Her head was now tilted to the side, her crimson hair braided and cascading down her shoulders. Immediately you flushed, a sudden realisation you'd been watching her working out, like some puppy in awe of the smallest of things.

"See something that you like?" Her voice carried huskily, but with a hint of a smirk lingering causing your knees to weaken.

Why she was having this effect on you, you'd never know. Part of yourself wished the feeling would vanish, disappearing like particles of atoms into the air. Dust vanishing away, yet another piece of you thrilled for the unknown drawn, the tranquility you felt. It felt exhilarating, the need for an escape.

As your eyes drifted around the room you realised just how much equipment had been invested within the 4 walls. Several different types of equipment were laid out in different selections, ranging from treadmills to yoga mats, leg presser's, even a shooting target range.

"N-No sorry I-" You stuttered still trying to distract your gaze to anything but at the redhead whose smirk had now grown wider.

The pair of you trained for a while, Natasha teaching you combat, which albeit you weren't as talented as herself. Several times she's managed to knock you down and pin you to the ground. Which, just happened to always end up with you looking up at her both your bodies in an extraordinary comprising position.

Natasha, on the other hand never judged you. Her skills and assets were on a scale of unbelievable, making you feel as tiny as an ant. Yet, the redhead never made you feel smaller than herself. She always seemed to root for the best in you, causing you to admire her as the minutes passed on.

"You've got more talent than you know," her voice whispered during the last training session.

Her voice sent a small shiver through your body shooting down your spine, as though a melody yet to be sang was ready to be heard. A soft nod a content true smile painted your lips setting a thousand suns alight.

"Thank you, Romanoff," your voice responded a little stronger than prior.

"Hey to you, it's Natasha."

A soft giggle passed your lips and she smiled, a rare one you could have sworn in the short time including familiarities of SHIELD, had never seen cross her lips before.

"it's like before when you were training me isn't it?" You asked your mouth speaking before your brain.

She simply nodded with a hum, putting herself once again in a position of combat causing you to follow suit. Her hair was now slick with sweat, but yours was drenched. Almost as if you'd been training the whole day, yet in reality it was a simple couple of hours.

"Exactly like before. Just harder and with stronger combat skills and assets."

Before you knew it, the pair of you were back at it. Training like you'd done the several times previously. Your skills had improved remarkably. How you didn't know, perhaps it was her words and further encouragement. Her sense of purpose that brought tranquility to you an ideology of lack of judgment.

One minute you were slightly stumbling and within the blink of an eye, you had her pinned. It was like the world had stopped, her own eyes had widened in shock, your body freezing as though ice had embedded itself within your veins, shocking every atom inside you.

The Natasha Romanoff, had been pinned down onto the floor with you hovering over her. A huge sense of achievement fell over you, a joyful relief that you had finally believed something within your bones for so long.

She felt it too, winking with no insult or any sort of ruined pride. Natasha merely looked and presented herself in a way that ran through to the pit of your stomach.

You scrambled off her slightly embarrassed as reality began to hit you, considering the positions you were currently in. Helping her up, Natasha stood there hands on her hips for a moment analysing you, but for once no feeling of unease overcame you.

"Told you could do it sweetheart," she said wiping her head with a towel.

If words could make your body melt into a puddle, like snow in the winter. You would have right there. Like an icicle on a tree branch waiting for its calling of life that's how you felt. Glistening but melting into bliss.

Natasha headed towards the door, her black tank top sticking to her in a way that was sheer attractive to practically everyone undeniably. Her abs could practically be seen through the material, causing your eyes to look up towards the ceiling scolding every part of your brain.

"Oh and, same time tomorrow," Natasha stated her voice carrying a tinge of something unplaced that caused you to look up at her. Yet she's disappeared through the door before anything more could be thought of it.

That's how it continued. The form of relationship building between yourselves, training continuing everyday. Your combat becoming stronger, fighting harder each time, not only did your skills improve but also your mindset. It began to light up your moments like a firefly, shining thousands of miles into you lighting up a hope in the sky.

There were times Natasha beat you, earning a playful comment from her lips.

"Gotta be faster than that honey," she'd husk out in that voice of hers.

Yet, you never stopped enjoying your training moments, the building of an established unknown. The way you and Natasha formed was rare, unseen and unbecoming, but there was no regret. No simple doubt that you enjoyed the form of relationship the pair of you had formed.

One morning your alarm clock went off once more, 6:15AM on the dot. Making no time to convince yourself to fall back into a peaceful depth of slumber you headed to the shower. Getting ready fast in the morning had become the new norm for you.

You'd managed to get changed at the speed of light hopping around to get into your gym wear. Just as you were about to leave F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke up warning you.

"Excuse me Y/N, I was informed to let you know most of the Avengers got called out for an emergency mission. You were called to go on it but, Miss Romanoff debated otherwise."

Your heart sank, upset slightly about the lack of training. You'd become quite accustomed to the way of life in the morning, training with Natasha before amusing yourself for the remainder of the day. However, it sank further when she mentioned Natasha stated she didn't want you there.

Were you not qualified enough? Would you ever be? Your mind spiralled around with overwhelming and overthinking thoughts, like a tornado sweeping through miles of countryside. No, you couldn't do this to yourself again.

The entire day became yourself training practically with little to no breaks, until the very darkness of night emerged the atmosphere, clicking your brain into knowledge.

Taking your last shower felt less like a privilege and more like a burden. Something undeserving, especially when you're clearly not welcome on missions. However, you knew you needed it.

Eventually you'd changed into some warmer fuzzier lounge wear, settling on some grey jumpsuit. It allowed you to feel more relaxed. The feeling sent you into a deep slumber, curled into the couch in a content creation.

A form half leaning on your body caused you to almost jolt awake, but you heard a whisper next to you. For a mere few seconds your surroundings became an enemy, training become reality. Yet, as your eyes adjusted to the light around you an awareness grew within you.

The Avengers were sat down around you, watching some random Christmas film you presumed Sam chose considering the choice. Clint was sat a few feet away glancing at you contently.

"You'll wake her," he mumbled his voice lower than usual that caused an unprovoked raised eyebrow from yourself.

Following his gaze, your heart pounded harder, eyes widening in a sudden surprise. Natasha was lying on your shoulder, her body almost slipping towards your lap. She seemed more at ease than Natasha ever had before.

Like the weight of a thousand worlds, a thousand men had been lifted by one single sleep. No, a single person. You. Her hair was now loose, drifting down her shoulders, making her look almost incredibly soft and it melted every aspect of you.

"She seems exhausted," you murmured without thinking.

"She took the most hits. I know what you were thinking. Natasha she.. She didn't want you on that mission, because she didn't want you hurt. Not because she doubts your capabilities. All I could see was her guilt and want to be back training with you."

Clint's confession and confirmation sent a warmth unexplainable feeling through you. Looking deeper at Natasha, you noticed the cuts and bruises. The winces when the redhead shifted in her sleep. A shatter through your heart came hard, one you had no idea was possible as you glanced softly at the older woman.

She cared. Natasha stirred slightly her eyes fluttering glancing up at you. Her eyes met yours and in that moment it unlocked everything and anything possible. It's said eyes are window's to one's soul. The key to unlocking everything about a person there was to be done.

Glancing at her emerald eyes all you saw was stardust, the pain of stars shimmering thousands of light years away trying to find their way back. She smiled weakly, trying to pull away. However, instead you adjusted Natasha to rest her head on your lap.

A frozen form hit your lap, tense in shock before fully relaxing into your hold. A soft hum left her lips and without thinking you began to caress her hair, bringing her to a warmth blanket of safety.

"She's never like that, looks like you're something," Clint mumbled smirking causing you to roll your eyes.

Natasha wasn't just an assassin, nor an Avenger. Sure you had no doubt words would be interestingly mentioned later when she awoke. Yet for now, as you had previously gazed into her eyes, all you saw was the stars of light wanting a home. Stroking her hair was like touching the star's of the soul itself, no matter the distance they'd always have somewhere or someone to go to.

[cosmicjoke]

The Student Becoming the Teacher:

You know what I realized about this moment?

Kenny is envious of Levi.

He asks Levi, with naked derision, "What are you?! A hero?!", because Levi is what Kenny always wanted, but never managed to be, which is a good person, and Levi managed it without ever needing to gain ultimate power.

Kenny believed that the only way to be a good person was if you were so powerful, you could simply afford to be good. In other words, as long as it cost you nothing to be so. As long as you were untouchable and not at risk of losing anything through your acts of kindness. And that really exposes Kenny's own, selfish nature, that he believed goodness could only be attained through being in a position of total power. That he couldn't conceive of there being someone who would willingly sacrifice their own well-being for the sake of someone else. He sought the power of a Titan like Uri had because he thought that would allow him to be a good person like Uri. And, ironically, in his warped philosophy of how to achieve goodness, fueled by his selfish nature, and in his pursuit of that goal, he only became a worse and worse person, murdering whoever got in the way of him achieving what he wanted for himself.

And of course there's a fundamental flaw in Kenny's thinking.

He didn't understand that what makes someone a good person, what makes someone a hero, more specifically, isn't simply bestowing acts of kindness and mercy, such as Uri showed to him, but an ability and willingness to sacrifice something of ourselves for the betterment of others. Someone who is willing to give up what's most important to them if it means helping someone else.

A hero is someone who's willing to lose so that someone else can win.

And nobody embodies that willingness, that heroism, more than Levi.

Kenny accuses Levi here of "killing when it benefits (him)", too, and Levi agrees, but that's actually not true.

Levi never actually does anything in the story for his own benefit. He never acts toward self-advancement, but always toward the advancement of others. He's the only character in the series who doesn't carry a personal dream that he's fighting for, but instead fights for the dreams of others.

That selflessness is what defines him, along with his compassion, empathy and kindness.

Levi is willing to do bad things, things which take a personal toll on him, like killing, like committing acts of violence, as long as it means other people don't have to also carry that burden, as he explains in his monologue to the 104th. Levi is willing to lose one of the most important people in his life in Erwin, a person he's relied on for so long to guide him, because it means saving Erwin himself from becoming a monster and giving him peace. Levi is willing to give up a physical memento which would have brought him comfort in his grief, in order to bring comfort to another, grieving soldier, like he does when he gives Petra's patch to Dieter. Levi is willing to repress his own, natural instinct to save lives and carry the burden and pain of that choice because it means more lives will be saved down the line and because it's what his comrades chose to give their lives for, like when he makes the choice for Erwin and the one hundred other scouts to charge to their death against the Beast Titan, or when he stays the course of their mission to lead the Female Titan into Erwin's trap, even as he knows the soldiers behind him are being slaughtered. Levi is willing to destroy his body in order to save the lives of his comrades, like when he rescues Mikasa, when he rescues Jean, when he rescues Connie, and ends up disabled and needing the use of a wheelchair for the rest of his life as a result.

That's a large part of what differentiates Levi from Kenny. Kenny kills to advance himself, to achieve greater personal strength because he himself wants to be "good", all while being so blinded by that personal ambition and selfishness that he fails to see how his actions take him further and further from being what he wants to be, while Levi kills to save the lives of other people, to honor their choices and allow them agency, even when it costs him his own, personal comfort and may even cost him the ability to call himself a "good person". Ironically, of course, it's that very willingness that makes Levi a good person, that makes him a hero.

Again, that willingness to lose in order for someone else to win.

Nobody taught Levi that he could use his strength to help others, Kenny least of all. Kenny never taught Levi anything but how to use his strength for personal gain, how to be selfish with his strength, the same way Kenny himself was, wielding his gift only to get what he, personally, wanted, unwilling to lose or sacrifice anything for the benefit of others. Levi discovered on his own that he could use his strength to help others, and on his own, that's what he decided to do, because unlike Kenny, Levi's nature is one of selflessness. He instinctively understood, once he realized his strength could be used to help people, that because he had this thing that others didn't, he should share it and use it for their benefit. He felt an obligation even to use it for others, to give them what he had, the same way we see Levi give what he has to others all throughout the story, even when it leaves him with nothing for himself. Kenny only understood that the thing he had should be horded and used for further self-gain.

That's the difference between someone with great, natural empathy, with great, natural compassion and kindness, and someone without any empathy at all, someone who at their core is selfish and self-serving. The difference between someone who's good and someone's who's bad.

And what's so interesting about this, then, is that it wasn't ever Kenny who taught Levi how to be a hero, or how to be good, but Levi, in the end, who instead teaches Kenny.

Through his encounter with Levi during the Uprising arc, Kenny realizes that Levi has managed to become on his own what Kenny always strove to be. A good man. And he sees how that goodness expresses itself through Levi's selfless actions. Kenny learns, through Levi, that to be good is to sacrifice, to be a hero is to help others even when, and most especially when, it comes at great, personal cost.

It's no coincidence that at the end of his life, after he's born witness to Levi and his genuine heroism, that Kenny finally learns what it means to be a good person, and we see him commit the only, truly selfless act of his life, by giving up his dream and giving the serum to Levi.

Because he learns through Levi that it's not power or invincibility that makes someone good. It's not a lack of desperation or being in a position of having nothing to lose that makes someone's generous actions heroic. It's easy to do good when it costs you nothing. It's easy to be generous when you have more than enough. It's when being merciful, being kind, being compassionate actually costs you personally, and you do those things anyway, that someone can truly be defined as being a good person. As being a hero.

Earlier, Kenny bragged about "teaching (Levi) everything he knows", and talked about his pride in that, wanting to take responsibility for the person Levi was. But Kenny didn't teach Levi this. He didn't teach Levi how to be good. He didn't teach Levi how to be a hero.

Kenny's tone implies sarcasm when he asks Levi if he's a hero, and it's because Kenny is actually envious of Levi, and maybe even in awe of him. He's angry, because Levi managed to become the man Kenny could only ever dream of being, and he did it totally on his own, without Kenny's help or example.

It's a case of the student becoming the teacher.

In the end, it was Levi who taught Kenny the most important lesson of all, by showing him what it truly means to be a good person.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

I meant the isekai x self-aware fic with the team that you would never fight. I love it and want to see a part 2 of it. (sorry if I worded my previous ask incorrectly and confused you into thinking I was talking about another fic!)

OH- Butterfly- be more specific next time. I got around 3 different self-aware crk au's going on and you ought to specify which one you're referring to. I'm gonna mix them up if you don't T T Anyways, part two coming right up

Previous part

The ball's in your court pt2

While the battle between the heroes and Shadow Milk cookie raged on, Y/N cookie was just chilling with the kids and watching from the side eating popcorn (From where? nobody knows). The fight was pretty much still a 50/50 battle since neither team was taking enough damage for defeat. When did Shadow Milk cookie become THIS resilient??? Oh well, provided you got the healers doing their job and everyone else is holding up it would be fine.

Gingerbrave: So...

Strawberry cookie: The baker, hm?...

Wizard cookie: I thought you'd be bigger...

Y/N cookie: the feeling is mutual. And take as much time as you need to come to terms with it.

Strawberry cookie: And those cookies- the ones you brought to fight. Are... they the really like the ones we know? As in- the white lily cookie and dark cacao cookie. I don't know who the other two are.

Y/N cookie: Yes and no. Unlike the cookies of this universe, these ones are solely brought in to fight the enemy on my command. And if they crumble it's not a permanent death. They'll always come back provided I choose to use them for battle again. And even if I don't, they're on standby. Though I don't exactly think I'll need to put any of them on the bench with how well the battle is going.

Y/N cookie looks back at the fight, which hasn't calmed down in the slightest. But at least they were slowly getting the upper hand. The three other cookies looked at each other before looking at the baker.

Wizard cookie: So you're saying that anyone you choose to fight for you can and will appear?

Y/N cookie: Yeah, but that'll probably only be possible once I beat this boss or they lose.

Gingerbrave: Wow! This is so cool! It's like some awesome video game in real life!

Y/N cookie:... riiiiiiiiiiiight......

Strawberry cookie: I have a question.

Y/N cookie: Ask away.

Strawberry cookie: Earlier you said something about... Elder Faerie crumbling?... I-is that really gonna happen?

Y/N cookie: Uhh

Wizard cookie: Oh so I wasn't the only one who heard that.

Y/N cookie: Well-

Gingerbrave: Wait- he's gonna crumble?! When?!

Y/N cookie: Ok just calm down so I can speak, geez!

All three cookies go silent, looking up at Y/N cookie with visible concern as they sigh.

Y/N cookie: So originally, he supposed to die. I'm not gonna go into too much detail cuz that's way too many spoilers but yeah, he dies. I was admittedly hoping it wouldn't come to that since a whole lot of dialogue was changed, but I guess there odds of the story changing were pretty low.

Gingerbrave: W-when does it happen?! Maybe we can stop it?!

Y/N cookie: Considering how long the fight's been going I'd say right about-

Just then there was a yell of pain from the battle grounds, causing all the cookies to look at the source. Surprise surprise, Elder faerie was dying.

Y/N cookie: Now...

The four went to the scene. (skipping the whole using the guardians strength part because it's gonna take forever for me to finish this story if I don't.)

Y/N cookie: Can't you heal him or something, Mystic flour cookie?

Mystic flour cookie: No.

Y/N cookie: Why not-

Mystic flour cookie: I'm not about to interfere with a canon event.

Y/N cookie: Ah- fair.

Burning Spice cookie: And so the old fool dies. And yet, I still feel nothing.

Y/N cookie: Wait is that a ref-

White Lily cookie: WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO NOCHALANT ABOUT THIS?! I JUST BECAME A GUARDIAN FOR TREES SAKE!

Moonflower Faerie: You'll get over it.

White Lily cookie: Wait- really?

Moonflower faerie: No- that's gonna haunt you for weeks to come, trust me.

White Lily cookie: oh-

Dark Cacao cookie (Dragon lord): Now, let us make haste and seal that wretched beast once and for all.

Y/N cookie: He's gonna be back in- like, Beast yeast episode 7

Burning spice + Mystic flour: What?-

Y/N cookie: Nothing- let's just go!

[bagelwizard]

the babies are gonna steal your lunch money!!!

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

for the 'why wouldn't date them'

charles, hawkeye, trapper

and i think you might be into twin peaks? if so, dale cooper and donna hayward

whichever ones you want to do :)

Ahhhhhh omg thank you for all of these I want to do them ALL but let's go backwards.

Donna Hayward

Ok so the thing is I AM into Twin Peaks but it's been a while since I've seen it and I tried to watch The Return but I was too stupit to understand much less enjoy it :( sowwy. So I would be dating my own flawed incomplete interpretation of a person, really. Typical Twin Peaks. 

Anyways I love Donna! I think we have similar personalities and stuff. In all brutal honesty I think if I were in her situation with a friend like Laura I’d have done similar things. Also yeah maybe her actions did lead a man to suicide but that was NOT her fault. I think the only three things that would prevent an attempt at a relationship here are 

1) The obvious. Her taste in men = atrocious. In all the rest of these hypotheticals where the character is already canonically in a relationship or has feelings for another character I’m just like yeah the more the merrier but if Donna insists on inviting her insufferable ass boyfriend into the mix I could NOT fucking do it I’m sorry. 

2) This girl is not ready for a relationship yet after All That god damn. But then again neither am I so maybe that balances out. We would need to spend some time as support group buddies just hugging and crying a lot before even considering a date. 

3) It is unlikely we would ever interact as I am never setting foot in that town ever in my life are you kidding me. Donna is super pretty in both her incarnations but I’m sorry I don’t think any pussy pops severely enough for me to risk going to fucking doorknob hell or some shit.

Dale Cooper

Ignore everything I said in that last paragraph. I change my mind. I forgot my beautiful autism creature husband is here. I would risk it all for a date with Dale Cooper and so would all who know and perceive the truth. AND he’s got two hot girlfriends with him at least one of whom is ALSO an autism creature??? Sign me the FUCK up for this polycule IMMEDIATELY. “Oh but OP what about the horrors” I don’t even fucking care it’s fine. Dale can have little an evil doppelganger. As a treat.

Still there are some problems:

1) Dale is an FBI agent and Harry is a cop. Booooooo!!!! But maybe if Annie and Caroline and I unionize we can force them to quit their jobs. 

2) Unclear if I would be forced to join the Black Lodge Horror Vision Rotation along with Annie and Caroline. Boring and time consuming task and unlike Laura you don’t even get to do a Big Scream.

3) I personally actually don’t like pie or coffee at all :( I’m sorry babygirl I understand if this is a deal breaker. 

Trapper McIntyre 

You know that “golden retriever boyfriend” joke? Trapper is like THE golden retriever boyfriend to me. Which I mean as an absolute compliment! Golden retrievers are friendly, helpful, adorable, lovable dogs. I am always up to pet a golden retriever.

But the thing is, I would never get one myself. They’re just a bit too big, bit too much energy, bit too messy, and anyways I prefer cats. No hate, no judgment, just a series of tiny preferences. Not into jocks, not into casual no-strings-attached type relationships, not super into kids, you know how it is. Boring and petty answer but I just feel like this adorable happy-go-lucky goldie deserves the PERFECT forever home and obviously he’s one of the most popular of all the dogs at the Mashblr shelter so I know he’ll get adopted super fast. So I can turn my attention to the miserable ass overbred old cat in the corner <3

Hawkeye Pierce

Oh, Hawkeye. I just don’t think so. Idk what’s wrong with me but I have to work to see Hawkeye as like. A dateable entity in my mind. He’s our little scrunkly! It’d be weird to date a scrunkly. BUT maybe I’ve just been overexposed to him purely by dint of being in the fandom he’s the main character of, because objectively I DO find Mr. Alda’s portrayal of him in certain scenes to be Attractive (TM), and seeing clips of his charisma and charm and humor and all that good handsome stuff is literally what got me to check out the show in the first place! Man. What happened. Hmm. 

I think one issue is that scenes where he’s explicitly trying to be Romantic and/or Seductive have just never done it for me. Like comparing Hawkeye’s lovey scenes with Kyung Soon to Charles’ with Martine, there’s no contest in how they make me feel. To me, Hawkeye is honestly at his most appealing when he’s radiating Friend Energy, which is why his casual relationships actually work really well IMO; you feel like he’s truly a great pal to the nurses he hooks up with. This is also, I think, one of Piercintyre’s great strengths as a ship, because Hawkeye and Trapper both have amazing Friend Energy and then their natural compatibility makes that bleed seamlessly into sweet romantic vibes. And to be clear I would LOVE to be in a Friends To Lovers relationship too but unfortunately I am cringely obsessed with loveydovey romance in a way I’m not sure Hawkeye is even capable of. Plus there’s also just the fact that I’m a shy waiting til marriage person and I suck at banter and yeah it’s just not working. In conclusion neither Hawkeye nor Trapper should date me they should date each other!! But we knew that :P

THAT CUNT

There are 10000000 reasons not to date Charles. But I will be doing it anyways ^_^ Peace and love on planet earth <3

Anyways I’m not bringing up his Problematicness as a reason here because I didn’t bring it up for anyone else and nobody noticed, so why should it be any different with him. Like no obviously I would not date this dumbfuck racist but I also would not date a guy who thinks it’s a funny prank to make a woman think she’s being sexually assaulted. I also for that matter would not date a guy who works with the dumbfuck racist and is like aw, ya know what, he’s not that bad really :) the second they have a chance to have a bonding moment. I guess I have decided to be a buzzkill about that forever now btw sorry :( oh well 

But ok no real talk I would Not date Charles unless one very specific condition is met, which is that I have whatever magic stardust they sprinkled on his single-episode love interests before they put them in the story that made him be utterly besotted with them, because more than any other character on the show, it seems, the difference between Regular Charles and Charles In Love is so hysterically huge??? Like fuck. My dudes. We’ve done it. We found the one villain who actually does do a complete 180 and starts trying to act right as soon as a girl takes pity on him enough to look at him twice. (Disclaimer: I haven’t seen Ain’t Love Grand yet I’m sorryyyyyyyy) He’s so ~romantic~ and it’s like catnip to me unfortunately. :\ The total opposite of what I said about Hawkeye up there. Offers a girl his stupid little teacup and recites poetry at her. Unbelievable. Did anyone ever think about the fact that maybe I would like to be offered a teacup and recited poetry at. No. You all only think about yourselves.  

Like even though objectively the way he nukes his relationship with Martine was hurtful to both of them, he’s so Tender the whole time it’s insane. She turned him into her pauvre petit miaou miaou overnight. I want that power so fucking bad I NEED that power so fucking bad. Say it with me everyone. I Could Fix Him. (”But OP Martine and Donna DIDN’T fix him he still left them both and never mentioned them again?” Yes but don’t worry they were just loosening the lid on his jar a little bit. I’ll get him open you’ll see. He’s gonna be soooo well trained when I’m done I’ll make him apologize to Maxwell and everything. He won’t even need the shock collar after a few weeks.)

But yeah if I have to like, try to appeal to him on my own it’s not fucking happening. I have no desire to hear the equivalent of a DOS deepfake hologram that has become evil due to being trained on text scraped from youtube comments tell me I’m ugly and stupid, which is exactly what would happen. Up til now I’ve sidestepped the issue that I do not think any of these people would give me the time of day (except Maxwell who would take pity on me probably because he is sososo Good) but I cannot ignore how much Charles just would Not like me. I don’t know how the selfshipper community does it they’re braver than any fucking US marine over there fr. Charles would look at me like I was a gross little bug on the ground and I can’t escape it. Oh well. Who needs him. Where’s your sister you dipshit I’m about to GET IT

[dandey-lion]

After defeating Pariah Dark, Phantom -High King of the Infinite Realms- joins the JL or YJL.

Danny is a great addition to the team, he’s surrounded by other people with powers (even if they didn’t have to die to get them), he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Nobody is hunting him anymore. The Anti-Ecto acts have been abolished and so has the GIW. He can still help people but the pressure isn’t just on him anymore. His parents accept him. Danny is happy.

But one day, one fateful day…

Pariah rises again.

The magic users are scrambling. The JL and YJ are frantic. Danny is…

Pretty calm, actually. A little annoyed, perhaps.

That kinda tracks. He’s the high king of the infinite realms and all the dead. He’s defeated Pariah before- and now he’s older, more experienced, with a team that he’s never had before. He’s explored his powers and authority to an extent his past self could only dream of.

So when Pariah Dark, former Tyrant of the Dead, storms the watchtower where the heroes have gathered, they’re a little off-put by it but ready to defend their home with all their might- a newfound confidence from Phantom’s nonchalance.

But who would’ve guessed that Pariah Dark, former Tyrant of the dead, would ask Phantom..

If he could adopt him?

Danny guessed, it seemed.

“No.” Danny glared at him.

“I can give you-“

“I don’t want anything from you, you frootloop. Piss off.” Danny said pointedly, tapping his foot impatiently.

“I can offer you wisdom to lead your kingdom that you won’t find anywhere else!” Pariah said exasperated, waving his arms around.

“I don’t want a tyrant’s advice.” Danny sneered. The rest of the heroes exchanged glances. This certainly wasn’t on anybody’s bingo card.

“Alright, that’s fair, but-“

“Ive been ruling my kingdom just fine. Piss off.” Danny jabbed a finger at him. “I will eat your core if you ask again.” Pariah paled, (as much as a ghost could), then grumbled about getting him eventually before finally, finally leaving in a swirling, neon green portal.

Danny left in one of his own, after bidding goodbye to the rest of them. Nobody wanted to ask what that was about. He seemed pissed.

.

A little while later, the heroes finally got around to processing what exactly happened that morning.

The.. former king of the dead, known tyrant, the one who Danny defeated.. came back to ask??? If he could adopt Danny???? Again???? As in he tried asking before????????

There was much pandemonium for the heroes that fateful day.

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[barleyo]

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

[zylev-blog]

Danny’s not exactly sure why the Justice League are looking at him like this. He hasn’t been to this planet before. He knew it was one of the unexplored planets. No ghosts had ever set foot here, not even Pariah Dark. As far as he knew, this planet shouldn’t know about ghosts at all.

He started out by chatting with Batman, but talking to that man was like talking to a brick wall so he quickly dipped. He then ran into Superman, who he walked to for a good four hours before moving on to explore. Superman tried to come with him, but Danny politely declined, because he didn’t want to take up and more of the man’s time. He then met the Flash, and they got some food together and fought some petty crime together before he moved on. Danny was quite enjoying this world, it was so different from his. It had a different language(he kept the translator that Clockwork had given him handy in his travels) different culture, and different things to do. And the biggest bonus was that nobody was trying to shoot him. He ended his tour with Wonder Woman, who finally asked him the question that had been on every heroes mind since he had gotten here: what brings you to earth?

He had gotten quiet, then. His body language had been closed off. He deflected the question, but it had made Diana more curious. He tried to excuse himself, but Diana was persistent. With great reluctance, he eventually admitted the truth. On Danny’s planet, the GIW had almost taken over the planet. His kind had been forced out, and he couldn’t return home. Not that he’d had much of a home to return to anyway. His family was alive, but he had no way to reach them in the Ghost Zone. They’d destroyed the portal but he hadn’t had enough time to cross over. So now he wandered the universe, helping other civilizations in need, and making friends.

Now the Justice League want to help him get home, but where do they even start with building a ghost portal? Danny’s only comment was they’d have to move the on switch.

[tinkerbelle05]

Katsuki Bakugo as your boyfriend hcs

He loves it when you wear his merch, he would never admit it to you because of his pride and all of that, but his heart flutters when you wear Dynamight hoodies and baseball caps. On the flip side, he freaking hates when you wear other heroes’ merch especially Icy Hot’s. Now this one, he admits to it loud and clear for all to hear him.

He likes the quiet and slow nights that the two of you have together. Two glasses of wine, some nice home cooked food, and his favorite person; you. He was the happiest he’s ever been.

His ears turned bright red whenever you give him a compliment or some sort of praise. Before you two started dating, he would do the same but at a lighter hue. The more he got to know and like you, the brighter the red was. You loved teasing him and making turn red like a tomato.

It was no secret that Katsuki was rather rough around the edges and while he had mellowed out during high school, that still held some truth to it. But for you, and only you, he would turn into the biggest softie for. He’ll be all cuddly and clingy with you because he feels like your the only person he can let down all his walls.

He has high standards for himself and for you. He would push you to the absolute best that you can do in whatever you wanted to do. While he is passionate in encouraging you, he cares about your mental wellbeing overall and doesn’t want you to overwork yourself to the bone for nothing and nobody. And anyone who thinks otherwise can answer to him.

Request are open

Banner by @saradika-graphics

[jinjeriffic]

Dan Phantom vs. the Justice League

Most DCxDP fanworks gloss over how Dark Danny/Phantom kills the JL, or argue that TUE wouldn't play out the same way in the DC universe, since there are tons of superheroes and some would have a way of beating Dan. So let us dig into this with a shovel!

I would like to point out that we have seen plenty of apocalyptic/dark futures in DC. Even without Dan, that superhero multiverse is constantly teetering on the knife's edge of catastrophe! It feels like every couple of months someone has to stop the end of the world. Dan is just one more possible future to avert.

Dan is not a mindless monster, he is capable of planning, subterfuge and working with/coercing others to work with him (i.e. Fright Knight). He has both Danny and Vlad's memories, so in a crossover setting there is no way he wouldn't know about the public superheroes and villains at least.

Speaking of, DC is obviously crawling with supervillains and world destroying entities. Nobody said Dan had to conquer the world alone! I can totally see him working with and manipulating other villains to achieve his goals, only to stab them in the back later (ho-ho).

Dan's powers of invisibility, intangibility, duplication, overshadowing etc. make him an ideal candidate for infiltration, espionage and sabotage. Unless a person or location is specifically shielded against ghosts with tech or magic, he can get in and out without anybody noticing. Sure, someone like Batman probably had his home proofed against supernatural attacks, but surely not most of them! I envision him taking down Earth's heroes by extensively spying on them first.

Consider: Dan causes a major disaster that requires superhero intervention (runaway train, high-rise fire, sinking oil tanker etc.) and waits for someone to show up. When they do, Dan uses his duplicates to follow the hero(es) home/to work etc. Learn their identity, their weaknesses, their loved ones etc.

Dan could strategically leak hero identities to villains with a grudge who have no problem going after their civilian lives. This could also act as a smoke screen so the heroes don't immediately realize someone is targeting all of them.

Overshadow a loved one and use them to kill the hero - "Oh, Hero X got in an argument with their SO and their SO shot them in a fit of passion? Their SO claims having blacked out just before they picked up the gun? Trauma will do that."

Use intangibility to plant bombs, nerve gas, radioactive materials, etc. in the homes of various heroes and set them off in a coordinated strike.

Probably the biggest threat to Dan would be magic based heroes or supernatural entities (Captain Marvel, Doctor Fate, the JLD, etc.). They would also be the most likely to have countermeasures in place against ghosts, or a way to detect him. But they're also mostly suited for fighting the supernatural. I admittedly don't know enough about a lot of these characters - would say, Zatanna think to have a shield in place against sudden sniper attacks? Dan could steal some money and hire Deathstroke/Deadshot etc to blow their head off when they're out in the open.

Have I mentioned what a nightmare Dan would be in terms of security? I can totally see him say, breaking into the CDC and unleashing smallpox, ebola and any number of virulent diseases on the world. Cause some nuclear meltdowns. Knock down a dam. Steal some highly radioactive isotopes! Would the magic heroes be protected against something that can give you a lethal dose of radiation within minutes?

What I'm saying is, a clever and ruthless villain like Dan could unleash enough chaos with his OP powerset to overwhelm the heroes and then pick a lot of them off. He's pretty much the definition of someone who just wants to see the world burn!

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

[bigbuffjoonie]

SEOKJIN PLEASE LMAO

I ran out of tag space I’m so sorry in advance but I just wanted to say I love that their names are Dark Hobi and Evil Yoongi lmao bc that also means in canon either they call themselves that or the heroes call them that and either way is so funny to me 😂

Versus | MYG, JHS - Chapter Two

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Hoseok

Genre: smut, fluff, angst, crack, enemies to lovers, Villains!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - daggers & laser gauntlets, swearing, mentions of blood, fighting (superhero workout-style), masturbation (m), allusion to shower sex

Word Count: 2.7k

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Supervillain exes Yoongi and Hoseok are sick and tired of having their plans for world domination wrecked by you, aka Vitality, the world’s most powerful superhero. When fellow villain Jimin suggests a little competition to see who can bring you to your knees, they both eagerly accept. Now the battle is on as both men engage you in fight after fight to see who will conquer you first. Will you finally defeat these two, or will they destroy you - and possibly take each other out in the process?

A/N: The challenge has been accepted, now it's time to establish the rules! And introduce a few other key players. Also, uh, gird yourselves, here comes the angst. Just a little!

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Chapter One ✨ Series Masterlist ✨ Chapter Three

CHAPTER TWO - THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

Hobi stalks angrily through his lair. Struts, actually. Not intentionally. It’s just how he walks, like the world’s his runway. Helps that he’s usually dressed to kill, both literally and figuratively. 

At the moment, he’s striding towards his weapons room wearing a stunning embroidered Louis Vuitton suit that has all of his henchmen doing double takes, and not just because of the splattered blood staining the luxe threads.

The life of a henchman is hard, as one constantly risks bodily injury time and time again for one’s leader, but working for someone who looks like that helps to soften the blows a bit. 

Hobi glares into the retinal scanner outside the weapons depot and the doors slide open as it recognizes his chestnut orbs. It also recognizes his glare. 

“Rough day, daddy?” a robotic voice purrs overhead. 

“Yes, Jin, today was shit,” Hobi declares as he returns his laser gauntlets to their place in his vast arsenal. “And I thought I told you not to call me that?”

“Sorry, sir,” the integrated A.I. system replies. Hobi rolls his eyes in annoyance. Perhaps it was a mistake giving the Synthetic Electronic Optimum Knowledge Jung Intelligence Network aka S.E.O.K.J.I.N. (Jin for short) sentience. The first thing it did upon rebooting was declare its undying devotion to Hobi. Which means an endless stream of ridiculous terms of endearment. Or pet names. Or worse.

Hobi’s starting to fear he’s going to grind his teeth into dust.

“Want to tell me all about it?” Jin inquires, automatically opening the vault door to Hobi’s inner sanctum.

“Not particularly.” He’d rather not rehash his day. It was painful enough living through it. 

Of course, Jin is undaunted. “Did the meeting at Jimin’s not go well?”

Hobi’s lithe fingers work the knot in his tie, loosening it until he’s able to tug the thin strip of fabric from his neck. “It was fine. Productive. We nailed down the rules of engagement for Jimin’s contest.” 

The terms of the challenge are concise and clear:

No outside help

No teaming up

The competition ends when Vitality draws her last breath. The man responsible wins.

The first rule is the most important. No outside help means neither can ask for assistance from any other villains, including Jimin, who must remain an impartial observer, as he so haughtily put it. The only exception is the allowance for both to continue to use Jimin’s power disrupters. 

Jimin originally decreed that the disrupters were banned, but swiftly reversed course and said they could use them since they already had them. The meeting then paused so Jungkook could apply some bandages to Jimin before he bled out all over his newly-cleaned rug.

As far as Hobi is concerned, rule two is completely unnecessary. Moving on. 

The final rule is mainly a technicality, making sure everyone understands the goal here. Once that annoying little superhero is gone, the victor will be declared. And to the victor go the spoils. Namely, a straight line to world domination, and the knowledge that they’re the superior villain, second to none. 

“That doesn’t sound very upsetting,” Jin muses. “Is it because Yoongi was there again?”

At the mention of his ex’s name, Hobi snarls. “No. I can handle seeing him.” He continues to strip, frowning at the sight of his ruined suit. Once he’s completely bare, he wanders through his bedroom to his en suite for a shower. 

“Then I guess I just don’t know what’s got you so mad, kitten.” 

Hobi presses a finger to the pinched spot between his dark brows, rubbing soothingly. The bathroom door opens. “I’m going to shower. If Jimin calls, tell him to expect a dry cleaning bill tomorrow.” 

He sighs wearily as the door closes behind him. There are no cameras in this room, so Jin is blind to what goes on in here. Not because Hobi is shy. Quite the opposite, actually. But he needs one room in the underground lair he calls home where he can go to be totally and completely alone.

Tucked away at the bottom of his vanity is a picture frame. He pulls it out, gently running his thumb over the photo inside. Bad idea. Too many conflicting emotions swirl through his already disquieted mind. He tilts the frame away and catches his reflection in the fingerprint-coated glass. The man gazing back at him struggles to maintain his cool demeanor. He turns away.

Warm water pours from the rainfall showerhead, filling the room with steam. Hobi stands directly underneath the stream, still adrift, until one particular feeling bubbles to the surface, and he strokes himself until he’s shuddering, his release washing away without a trace. When he exits the bathroom later, towel slung low over his hips, his expression is calm once again, betraying no sign of the maelstrom within.

THOCK

Taehyung strolls down the quiet hallway of the mansion. 

THOCK

He pauses outside the study, strands of his bright blue locks falling in his eyes as tips his head, listening. 

THOCK

With a grimace, he twists the doorknob. “Yoongi-hyung.” 

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi responds cordially, before flinging another dagger. 

THOCK

The blade lands directly in the middle of a face.

“Didn’t know you were back already.” 

Yoongi doesn’t reply as he saunters across the room. With a violent yank, he jerks the dagger out of the nose where it’s embedded, and grabs the other six that form a perfect circle around it, leaving only the one at the top that pins the portrait in place. 

“Meeting ended early,” he finally states. He removes his striped suit jacket, hanging it primly over the back of a chair before resuming his position several paces in front of the wall. “Jimin fell ill.” 

Taehyung notes the dried blood still clinging to one of the blade handles. “What did he want this time? Did he finally figure out the bug with the power disrupters?”

“Of course not. No, he wanted us to go over the rules for his stupid little competition.” 

THOCK

“And you didn’t like his suggestions?” Taehyung gestures to the dirty dagger. “Hence the blood?” 

Yoongi pauses mid-throw to inspect the handle of his blade. “Oh, we had a little disagreement, you could say. But Jimin eventually came around to our point of view, and I agreed to all of his terms. As did Hoseok.” 

THOCK

Ah, of course. Hoseok-hyung was there again. No wonder the wall was currently under attack by Yoongi’s blades. Taehyung tries to remember where he’d put the spackle after Yoongi’s last assault on the drywall.

THOCK

As another dagger whizzes by, within millimeters of Taehyung’s unconcerned face (he knows his hyung never misses), he tries not to think about what happened when Yoongi and Hoseok split. Taehyung had never seen Yoongi on a rampage like that before. So many blades. So much blood. As much as he adores his hyung, that’s a side of Yoongi he hopes to never see again. 

“So… what are the rules?”

“No outside help.” 

THOCK

“Even from me?” Taehyung pouts at the thought of not being allowed to help his hyung vanquish his enemy. His entire life is devoted to Yoongi, after hyung saved him. He gave Taehyung a purpose and something solid to cling to when the cruel winds of fate tried to tear him apart. 

In other words, Yoongi’s his rock. 

“No outside help from other supervillains. You’re not on the outside. You’re in my inner circle.” 

Taehyung beams proudly, boxy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“The other rules are simply formalities. No teaming up.” Yoongi laughs dryly. “As if that would fucking happen. I’d rather die than ask Hoseok for help, and I’m quite sure the feeling is mutual.” 

THOCK

“And the challenge is over once Vitality is dead.” 

“Okay. Those all make sense, to me.” Taehyung treads lightly. “So… just letting off some steam, then?” 

THOCK

“A little. But I’m also brainstorming. You know the blades help me think.”

Right. Taehyung remembers when Yoongi was preparing for the Tokyo maneuver. What a horribly stressful time that had been. Yoongi spent so many nights strategizing that Taehyung had ended up replacing an entire section of the wall. Spackle only goes so far. 

“Strategizing how you’ll take Vitality out?”  

“Yes. But I’m planning so much more than that.” He tosses a dagger straight above his head. Taehyung watches it flip a few times before Yoongi effortlessly plucks it out of the air, pinching it by the blade. The smile he flashes chills Taehyung to the bone. “I’m going to take them both out.” 

THOCK

The hilt quivers with the force of Yoongi’s throw, dagger buried once again dead center in Hoseok’s face.

“Harder!” A grunt falls from Namjoon’s panting mouth at your command. “Come on, Joon, give it to me!” 

“Can’t…don’t…wanna hurt you.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m not gonna break, Joon. Fucking stop holding back!”

Namjoon obeys, throwing his next punch with more oomph. Still, you easily dodge the blow, sliding beneath his outstretched arm and landing a jab to his gut. 

“Jesus, if you punch like this on your next mission, you’re never going to win! You gonna need me to come fight all your battles for you?”

Your goading works. The yellow haze surrounding Namjoon shimmers as he spins into a roundhouse kick. As his large foot connects with your torso, you let out a pained “OOF!” and fly across the mat, landing square on your back. All the wind in your lungs leaves your body in one loud whoosh. 

Namjoon hovers over you, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “You okay?”

Weakly, you flash a thumbs up. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough sparring for today,” Namjoon clucks his tongue. 

“‘M fine. Just gonna… lay here… for a while.”  

Your teammate flops down next to you and rolls into his cool-down stretches. “I know what you’re doing, by the way.”

“Trying to breathe?”

“You know what I mean.” 

Of course Joon sees right through you. He’s your best friend on the team. The two of you have clicked since the day Doc brought you to the company. His hulking frame and frankly mind-boggling strength run counter to his sweet, quiet nature. A gentle giant if ever there was one. But he’s an astute motherfucker, much to your displeasure

“You don’t have to punish yourself for Dark Hobi and Evil Yoongi both escaping again. That’s not on you. Once we capture our targets and turn them over to the containment teams, it’s on them to keep them imprisoned.” 

Obviously, you know this. But it doesn’t do anything to calm the anger still roiling in your chest. How many times are you going to have to defeat those two before they’re captured for good? 

It’d be so much easier if you could just take them directly to The Hole, where all the villains found guilty of crimes against humanity are taken and locked away for eternity. But no. You know the rules - find the target, take them down, turn them over to containment. They’ll be brought to justice by the company’s tribunal, who judge whether a villain is fit to be rehabilitated and reenter society or sent to The Hole forever. 

Justice. What does that word mean, anyway? Why does the company get to decide their fates? You’re the one with the power. 

You know better than to mention these thoughts to Namjoon as he reaches for his toes, loosening his hamstrings. He’ll just recite the same annoying phrases again and again–we’re not above the system, we work for it. No one is meant to be judge, jury, and executioner all in one. It’s not right. 

Except… it sure seems like the company is all three. Why does it get to decide what’s right?

These questions are above your pay grade. Which, admittedly, is pretty high. 

“I’m not punishing myself,” you finally reply, grinning. “I just prefer to spar with someone worthy. No one else here can really give me a workout like you can. Being friends with the strongest man in the world has to have some sort of perks, you know?” 

“Besides literally bench pressing you?” He winks. “Like the other night?”

You stare off into the distance. “Ah, yes, that was a magical evening. The day I discovered I have a size kink. You really made my head go brrrr, you know that?” 

Namjoon frowns. “Sometimes I think we speak two different languages.” 

“Whatever. Help me stretch my thighs, will you? They’ve felt really tight since we got off the treadmills.” Lying on your back, you lift both knees to your chest. Namjoon nods, kneeling by your ass. He grabs one of your ankles and extends the leg, then presses your thigh into your torso. 

It’s a terribly intimate position, but neither of you flush, both deeply familiar with the other’s body by now. It’s hard as fuck to date as a superhero. Practically impossible, really, with the crazy schedules and the always lurking paparazzi, not to mention the groupies–the cape clingers, as the company calls them. So the two of you have an arrangement. Purely physical. 

“I heard the search for Hobi’s lair isn’t going well,” Namjoon murmurs, his thick fingers digging into your flesh as he switches legs. He is unfortunately correct, which you already know without hearing whatever gossip he’s about to drop. “Doc said the presentation to the shareholders last month kinda skirted around the scout’s report.” 

Over the years, Dark Hobi has completely managed to elude your company’s ability to locate his base of operations, despite the fact that you’re pretty sure his weapons cache alone must be the size of Texas. Whatever he is using for security is clearly more sophisticated than anything the company has, a fact that absolutely drives the CEO mad. He wants to be the one with the best toys. 

“I’m telling you, he’s got an underwater base. It’s the only thing that makes sense,” you mutter back, making a face at Hyunjin when he walks by and whistles suggestively at the two of you. “Oh, fuck off, Jinnie, you know you wish you were the cream filling in this delicious whoopie pie right now.” 

Hyunjin just laughs, but Namjoon rolls his eyes. ”Whoopie pie?”

“I don’t know, I’m hungry.”  

Namjoon releases your legs and begins to stretch his own. “Anyway… he said the meeting was pretty cut and dry, the usual facts and figures, not much new. Oh, I guess there was some sort of weird Geiger spike the other night out in Busan but when the teams combed the area it came from, they didn’t find anything.”

“Busan? Who do we suspect is in Busan these days?”

“No one new that we know of. Just Jimin.” He snorts and you both begin to cackle. 

“Fuck, could you imagine if that guy got his hands on nuclear weapons? Probably blow himself up immediately.” As far as villains went, Jimin aka Mr. Machiavelli is less of a threat to mankind than Dark Hobi or Evil Yoongi than he is to himself. And he isn’t some sort of amazing tactician who keeps slipping through your fingers–no, you’ve defeated him plenty of times. The only reason he isn’t currently in containment is because he has an uncanny knack for charming the guards into letting him go. 

With a yawn, Namjoon stands, offering you his hand. “Probably. Come on, I need a shower.” 

”And that requires me?”

“Yes. You blew off your steam, now I gotta blow off mine.” 

Namjoon tugs you into the communal changing area where your other teammates are milling about and you giggle as he helps you shuck your gym clothes in front of an eye-rolling Hyunjin. “Stop gawking, Jinnie, haven’t you ever seen two people about to fuck before?”

Bang Chan runs into the shower area, blue aura blazing. “Vi, we just got word that Dark Hobi’s been spotted off the coast of Jeju Island. Doc wants you ready to mobilize in ten.” 

You sigh. Just another day’s work. “Ten minutes? Fine.” Taking Namjoon’s hand, you lead him into one of the shower stalls. “Come on, thunder thighs, show me what you can do in five.”

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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