#while writing it i didn’t know if it suited his character so id say its quite ooc

[arahdow]

SKILLED FINGERS

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. the way they would unclasp a bra. suggestiveness, nsfw. silver’s the shortest but the freakiest hehe. kinda ooc characters. MDNI

Word count. 1.5 k

A/N. I suddenly had the urge to write about this while talking with a friend abt how there’s men who can unclasp a bra with one hand but there are others who really struggle hehe so yeah!! i had quite the time of my life writing this sjdjs and the playlist filled with sex songs really inspired me, so, here!!

+ I was quite surprised with silver’s!!!! my hands moved on its own ! and the one with shadow, i actually got inspired from a fanart i saw on pinterest 🥵 so yeah, i did my research JDJDJSJ

++ I also wrote this while being REALLY sick so forgive me if there’s something poor written :( not beta read !!

SONIC

He gets really excited, and actually knows how to do it but because he’s impatient he can’t find it in himself to take his time

Both of them came back from a mission on green hill. The truth was that Sonic had actually gone to another place for a week now, this was the first time they saw each other after a week, and spending their first moments fighting wasn’t her cup of tea.

But now they were coming home.

Panting into each other’s mouths, his body guiding her to the edge of their bed. His hands were everywhere at the same time, his heartbeat was quick as he kept kissing her. Without parting, she got on her knees on the bed, Sonic quickly followed her. 

They both were now kissing on their knees, her hands roaming around his back, playing carefully with his quills, then coming up to cup his face, caressing his cheeks. 

The blue hedgehog took the girl from her waist and pulled her close, until she was almost sitting on his lap, both her knees on the sides of his thighs. Taking her top off of her in such a hurried way, she thought he was about to rip the piece of cloth from her body. The man was so excited, impatient. Parting from her lips for a moment, his hand roamed on her back, finding the clasp of her bra quickly. 

Giving her a smirk with hooded eyes, he started moving the clasp around, back and forth, pulling, pushing. Nothing. The girl came back from her dazed state and noticed that Sonic was actually having a hard time taking the undergarment off of her. 

Waiting for a bit, looking at his concentrated eyes, she started to giggle a bit. 

“Need assistance, love?” She asked, her hand going to her own back to end the blue hedgehog’s suffering.

But Sonic had none of that. He slapped her hand away and groaned. “I can do it! I’ve taken it off of you other times, why can’t… I… Now?” He struggled, his voice getting desperate.

She let him keep on trying until she couldn't wait any more. Sliding her own hand towards the clasp, she undid the bra easily. Sonic murmured a low “mhm”, as he continued on kissing her chest, stomach, sliding down. He looked at her with hooded eyes, his face pressed against her thigh as he admired the view.

“Gorgeous.” He winked, brushing his lips on her skin as he started doing hickeys on her thighs. If there was something Sonic quite enjoyed, it was teasing. And it showed.

SHADOW

VERY SKILLED. Doesn’t exactly know why he knows how to do it, but he’s cocky about it, nonetheless.

Shadow had just gotten home from beating the shit out of Sonic. It was a hobby at this point, not even something necessary. He came through the door stretching his arms over his head as he walked into the kitchen. 

His significant other was making dinner, thank chaos because he was actually getting very hungry from the previous activities. Smiling at him, the girl looked up from the stove, as she turned it off.

“My love! How was hunting Sonic?” She asked jokingly, as Shadow got close to her, carrying her to sit on the counter, his gloved hand taking her face using his thumb and index finger to hold her chin.

“I still have lots of energy, mhm.” He replied huskily on her ear, as he kissed her cheek, then her jaw and last her neck. “Are you going to do something about it?” 

After a few more words from him and a couple of kisses down her clavicle, the room got quite hot, and it wasn’t for her cooking. 

“Mhm, Shadow… The food.” The girl tried to complain.

“Shh, I'm having quite the feast here, doll.” He replied simply, his mouth still latched on her skin.

In seconds, Shadow put his hand in front of her. She knew exactly what he wanted. Using her teeth, she chewed the tip of his white glove, taking it off slowly. His breath hitched for a second.

Because that was a rule when being intimate: No clothes between both of them. Including his gloves.

As his hands returned on her body, he touched her naked back. She quickly felt his fingers looking for the clasp of her bra. She was about to offer to take it off herself, when he found it, the thing gave in rather quickly, making her gasp.

Shadow looked at her in the eye, his eyes scanned her flustered expression and smiled cockily. Sliding the straps off her shoulders, slowly, teasingly. She could actually feel his heartbeat as her hands pressed against his chest. The hand that wasn’t sliding the strap was caressing her thigh. His lips pressed as he stared at her chest. 

A glint showed on his red irises. Oh man. 

SILVER

Not very skilled with his fingers BUT he uses psychokinesis ofc

The girl knew she wasn’t playing fair, but she wanted to push as many buttons as she could. Actually buying those pheromones she saw on the internet, and this could go either too good or nothing could happen. She didn’t believe there were any bad consequences for her actions.

Until now.

Well, it wasn’t that bad…

But the way Silver’s face was actually smashed on her neck, licking, biting, kissing and more made her brain turn into a non thinkable goo. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, grabbing, caressing her skin, like he wanted to combine both their bodies. 

Not only that, but he was rutting against her leg, desperate whining noises coming from his throat. The girl was losing it too, but it was obvious his body was actually on fire. His cheeks blushed a pretty red, and he actually managed to drool all over her sternum.

Her hand threaded on his quills, sliding down until she could feel his chest fur. Doing an experimental tug, the man nearly came on the spot. A breathless moan left his lips as he continued panting over her, his hands positioned on either side of her head. 

The girl kissed him hungrily, getting excited by the whole situation. 

“Love…” She tried speaking but Silver grunted, taking his girlfriend with one arm under her back, making her sit in front of him. His pupils were blown and his breathing was accelerated. He had no time to think about that damn clasp, so he snapped one of his fingers, the cyan aura forming on his hand and then, the girl felt the bra fall off her chest.

Using his psychokinesis to do such a thing turned her on, she wondered what else he could do with such power.

KNUCKLES

He just rips it off

It was common knowledge that Knuckles wasn’t the most patient or delicate guy, especially when it came to having intimate moments like this one. Rouge threw a little party for her birthday, everyone was invited and, being the showy bat she was, it was quite a formal party. So the girl decided she was about to go wild with her dress.

The piece she wore was a deep green, sleeveless dress. The neck of the dress was high, the thing hugging her curves. it looked rather simple until you looked at the back of it, a slit running all down the low back. It was gorgeous, and she felt untouchable with such a piece.

Amy actually helped her choose the dress, and she also recommended using a specific type of bra so it wouldn’t be noticeable. The straps turned and twisted, it was something difficult to put on, but she didn’t mind, as long as she looked good in the dress.

And now it was time for the reveal. Knuckles actually wanted to wear something nice, so he dressed up (she helped him choose his outfit. He also asked to help her with hers but she declined saying she had a surprise for him). 

Walking out of the room, the girl walked confidently towards her boyfriend sitting on the sofa, his legs spread and his elbows were positioned on his thighs, making him lean forwards. Too caught up in his mind, he didn’t notice until the girl was beside him. She cleared her throat and that did the trick.

His eyes flew open as he got up from the sofa, walking towards his partner. 

“My… You look gorgeous.” He said, kissing her cheek, that’s when he positioned a hand on her back noticing the slit. He swallowed, nervously. “Say, doll, what if we arrive a few minutes late?”

He asked, his hands starting to roam, sitting on her butt. The girl smiled, patting his chest. “Rouge will kill us if we arrive late.”

Knuckles hissed, finding a button that undid her whole dress. “I think we’d survive.” Were his last words before he carried the girl to bed.

Kissing and palming all over her, the man took a look at her bra and without a second notice, he ripped it off from her. She let out a surprised gasp. 

“Now how am I going to use the dress, Knux!” She exclaimed, feeling him grin, his breath caressing her chest. 

“Use it without that bra, it would look better, doll.”

#the knuckles one was a full on fic JSJDJSJ #THE SHADOW ONE AAAA #the mental image of him being like this #while writing it i didn’t know if it suited his character so id say its quite ooc #also bcs he’s my favorite and i made him the one with a lucky first try #anywayyyy i hope you enjoy the meal!! #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #knuckles #knuckles the echidna #knuckles the echidna x reader #knuckles x reader #silver #silver the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog x reader #silver x reader #arah ⊚ not safe for work #arah ⊚ masterpieces

[bigassnocash]

Hopeless Romantics

HiHo friends! I mostly wrote this piece for @iaminlovetomhollandmarvel because she's like my one consistent reader. Once again, I'm still fairly new to writing so please be kind, and send in requests for any characters and actors/actresses you want and I'll write for you! I also used writing prompt 707 from @creativepromptsforwriting and its highlighted in bold, there is also a Sylvia Plath poem in here!

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

"Hey Y/N, what're ya doin?" Arvin asked as he walked up to you as you sat reading on the steps outside of the school.

"Not much, just sittin' here enjoyin the warm weather. What are you doin' Arvin?"

"Well you looked pretty lonely over here, so I was thinkin I could keep you company but I can go if you want."

"I don't mind, come sit down I promise I won't bite."

As he sat down next to you he linked his arm with yours to see how you'd react. When you didn't pull away he scooted closer to you, to the point of being able to see over your shoulder.

"Y/N L/N what on Gods green Earth are you reading?" he laughed at the content you were consuming.

"If you must know, nosey josey its a romance book," your cheeks started turning red with embarrassment as he laughed.

"I don't know much but I do know one thing; people do not talk like that on dates."

"I wouldn't know, I've never been out on a date before," you turned your head away feeling shame. 17 years old, and never been out on a date while some girls in your class were out here getting married.

Arvin felt bad, he did know that you didn't go out much but he figured that the most beautiful girl he's ever seen would've been asked out at some point.

"Thats about to change. C'mon Y/N get up, I'm taking you out on a proper date," he offered his hand to help pull you to your feet.

"Arvin are you insane, what would even do?"

"Anything you want. We could go to dinner, a movie, we could go to the library, I could get a picnic together really fast and go to the lake, we can go skinny dipping," he winked at you.

"Skinny dipping is a third date activity young man, I think you know this," you shot back at him matching his cheeky smile, "I wouldn't mind a picnic by the lake, I just need to stop by my house and tell my momma where I'm goin."

"Your carriage awaits m'lady," he help open the car door for you and helped you in.

"Before we do this I need to know, why are you doing this Arvin?" you asked him, very worried about getting hurt.

"Cause its Friday night and I'd rather spend it with the prettiest girl in school than at Church with Lenora."

An hour later after you dropped your stuff off at home and got a picnic and blanket you and Arvin were sitting by the lake looking out over the water.

"Y/N will you please read your book to me? 'ts just I've heard you read in English and I really like your voice. Please?" he was so kind and quiet that there was no way you could deny him of this.

"I won't read you my book but I'll read you a poem, how's that?" he nodded happy with the trade off. As you pulled your poem book out of the small bag you packed, he laid down in your lap looking up at the sky.

"This one is called Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)"

Arvin stared at you in awe. He had never felt feelings like this before. In the moments that you were reading to him everything felt right, as if you wrote the poem for him.

"Y/N that was absolutely beautiful," he gushed to you.

"Aww you don't mean that, now c'mon enough with all this gushy stuff. Its hot and i want to cool down with a swim."

"But we dont have our swimsuits and I thought skinny dippin was a third date activity miss," he was getting real cheeky now.

"Thats very true, but I wear undergarments, and those cover the same amount skin that a swimming suit do. Arvin, do you wear undergarments?" you asked as you started to unzip your skirt.

"You sure about this?" he wanted to go swimming with you more than anything but he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life Arvin." you were completely undressed, except the matching bra and panty set you were wearing. Arvin was awestricken with you. "Hurry up, I want to swim and your taking forever."

In record speed he took off his jeans and shirt, grabbing your hand and running into the water with you. You guys splashed in the water for a long time, well into the night. At some point you guys just floated, side by side holding hands. No one had ever made you feel the way Arvin did, like you mattered.

"Y/N your shivering, let get you dried off," he helped you onto the shore and wrapped a towel around and rubbed your shouders. "Heres the keys to the truck, you can changed in there. 'm gonna go into the woods to give you some privacy." he truly was the sweetest boy.

Once you both got changed and were sitting in the car, he asked you something you never thought he'd ask. "Will you dance with me? I can turn up the radio and we can dance outside." you nodded your head and lept out.

He took your right hand, in his left and wrapped your left arm around his waist. He placed his right hand low on your back yet high enough to still be respectful.

"Arvin, real talk and I want a real answer from you this time. Why did you ask me out tonight?"

"I asked you out because I've been infatuated with you, but i was never sure to liked me back so I started to flirt with you."

"What? We barely even spoke before today, how did you flirt with me?"

"I mean, I looked at you... sometimes you looked back."

"Arvin I don't know what to say, you could've talked to me."

"I wanted to, so badly Y/N its just that... I didn't want people to get the wrong idea about you because you deserve the whole world and I cant give it to you and people say I'm dangerous and I swear I'm not I just don't wan-"

you cut him off with a kiss. An earth shattering, mind blowing kiss. his lips were so soft and molded perfectly to yours, and he could taste the cherry chapstick you always wore. It lasted forever it felt like. When you both eventually pulled apart he rested his head against yours. "Woman if you keep doing that you're gonna kill me."

"I hate to ruin this absolutely perfect first date but, its past my curfew and I have to be home," disappointment clear in your voice. "All good things must come to an end eventually I suppose."

The whole way home, you didn't leave his side. He even walked you to your door and kissed you goodnight. "Can we go out again tomorrow, ya think?" he asked so hopeful you'd say yes.

"I would absolutely love to Mr. Russell but I don't know if my mom will let me after gettin in so late after I was supposed to be home. Give me your number and Ill call you tomorrow if I can."

He gave you his number and you two parted ways. He sat by the phone all weekend waiting for you to call, disappointment shattering his heart when you didn't. He found you by your locker first thing Monday morning at school.

"Hey, I figured that Id come say hi to you. Ya know, just make sure everythings still good between us?" He had never been this nervous in all his life.

"Yes of course everythings good between us why wouldnt it be?"

"Well you never called, and I got really worried. Why didnt you call?"

"My mom said I wasnt allowed to use the phone because I broke curfew. I promise you I would've called Arvin, I had the best time of my life on Friday. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Really, you want to go out with me again?"

"Well, yeah. Of course I do. There's still a second date we have to go on, before we get to the third." you winked at him as you shut your locker and turned around and walking in the opposite direction. Leaving him there, wondering what on Earth he just got himself into.

#arvin russel fic #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel imagine #arvin eugene russell #arvin russel x reader

[seasonschange-butpeopledont]

Everyday Heroes

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

Warnings: A few curse words, an explosion, implied injury, depressed reader, minor character death, grief, and a bit of pining

Word Count: 3,364

Author’s Note: This got out of hand and apparently I only know how to write hopeless pining. Do we agree that Marcus gives off Clark Kent vibes or am I alone in this?

Summary: The three times you discovered Marcus Moreno was a hero. 

Taglist Form - Masterlist

When you’d left the house that morning, the heels you wore had seemed like a great idea. 

You were headed in for your first day at your new job and you wanted to make a good impression by wearing what you perceived to be your most professional outfit. You’d made it to the coffee shop down the street from your apartment with minimal difficulty, though you were certain to have blisters on your feet by the end of the day. Thankfully, your receptionist position meant that you would spend the majority of your day more or less chained to the front desk, answering phones, taking messages, scheduling appointments, and greeting visitors. 

You didn’t know much about Vil-Tech. You’d googled them before your first interview, of course- you weren’t a total idiot and you’d never dare show up unprepared, especially when you needed this job so badly- but your search had yielded only a few results. Most of what you’d found had been articles from the newspaper. The researchers at the lab had, apparently, recently had some success in clean energy technology. Protons, neutrons, particle accelerators, electromagnetic fields… You knew nothing about it, really, but it sounded impressive. And clean energy had to be good, right? When they’d hired you, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal that you knew next to nothing about the company itself. They were only looking for a receptionist, after all, not a scientist. If they’d wanted you to know exactly what was going on in the floors above you, you were sure that they would have let you know. 

With your coffee in hand, you made your way towards the Vil-Tech building. All in all, it seemed like the universe was on your side this morning. You’d woken up early enough to make yourself look decent. Your favorite barista had made your coffee just the way you liked it, and it even looked like you would be early for work. 

And then it all seemed to happen in slow motion. 

The upper half of your body was already moving forward, even as the heel of your shoe remained firmly wedged in the sidewalk crack. You felt the coffee sloshing around in the stainless steel travel mug in your hands, threatening to douse your crisp white blouse in the steaming beverage. You blindly threw your hand out in front of you, bracing yourself to hit the concrete and thinking to yourself that this was just one of those days when this might as well happen. 

But the harsh impact you’d prepared yourself for never came. 

It had taken you a moment to process that someone had caught you. Someone with impeccable reflexes, it seemed, as not only had they rescued you from taking a humiliating fall in the middle of a busy sidewalk, but they also managed to save your coffee without spilling a drop. To say that you were impressed by the feat was an understatement.

But when you looked up at your savior, you were damn near speechless. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, his dark eyes finding yours from beneath his black-framed glasses. And, other than the approximately thirty-seven heart attacks you’d had in the span of 2.5 seconds only moments before, you found yourself nodding in confirmation. 

“I’m fine. I… Thank you,” You breathed out, a warm, tingly feeling spreading out from your chest and right down to your toes. Gods, he had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen. He appeared to be somewhere in his mid-forties, and wore a leather jacket with his slacks and tie, a combination you’d never quite seen before, but decided suited him quite well. 

“Are you sure? You look a little dizzy,” He noted. His arm was still around your waist, and you were grateful for it, because you didn’t quite trust the integrity of your knees at the moment.

After a few moments, which had exceeded the socially acceptable amount of time to moon over a stranger while clutching their remarkably toned biceps for dear life by a long-shot, your brain finally seemed to catch up to the rest of you, and promptly flooded your thoughts with embarrassment. You released your death-grip on his arms immediately, trying to maintain your dignity as you yanked your heel from the concrete crevice in a distinctly unladylike manor. All the while, the handsome stranger remained right there, dutifully holding your coffee and trying his best to hide the amusement in his eyes with a polite smile. 

Taking a deep breath and smoothing out your outfit, you nodded at him once again. “I’m fine,” You said in what you hoped was your most composed voice. He promptly handed you your coffee, and you swore you felt electricity when his fingers brushed against yours. 

“Glad to hear it,” He remarked, “That would have been a nasty fall.” 

“Nice save, Clark,” You joked, attempting your most charming smile. Were you flirting? Could you even consider this flirting?

“Clark?” He repeated, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

“You know, Clark Kent… with the glasses and... lightning-fast reflexes… saving me from an incredibly embarrassing moment?” You explained weakly. It wasn’t as if you’d never spoken to an attractive man before, but it seemed that the universe was decidedly not on your side this morning after all.

“Superman?” Another smile found its way to his face. He seemed flattered by your comment. “My daughter loves those comics.” At the mention of his daughter, your eyes quickly darted down to his left hand. There was no wedding ring there, but it was clear that there had been one there in the past. 

“Well, your daughter has excellent taste. And we could all use a few more heroes in our lives, right?” You sighed wistfully, before adding, “Thank you, by the way.” 

“It was no big deal,” He assured you. “I’m always happy to help a pretty lady in need.” 

You laughed quietly at the last part, finding the cheesiness of it adorable. You weren’t quite sure why you were still lingering on the street corner, except that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to walk away just yet. He seemed equally as reluctant to part from you, both of you grinning shyly at one another as you soaked in the meet-cute moment. Right up until his eyes fell to the ID badge clipped to your bag, that is. 

“Is that a Vil-Tech badge?”

There was a hint of disappointment in his tone that you couldn’t quite assign a cause for. It wasn’t the question you were expecting. You’d expected him to ask your name, or maybe offer you his, but you could practically see the gears turning in his head by now, so you humored him.

“Yep,” You confirmed. “It's my first day. I’m just a receptionist, though…” 

He nodded slowly, his eyebrows pinching together. He didn’t even try to hide his frown. What was it about Vil-Tech that seemed to bother him so much?

“I’m really sorry, but I’m running late for work,” He said finally, nodding in the direction you had just come from. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes staring into yours as he spoke with the utmost seriousness. “Good luck on your first day, and… Look after yourself, okay? Vil-Tech might not be what you think it is.” 

And with that, he brushed past you, seemingly in quite a hurry as he disappeared into the crowd and left you standing there, disappointment sinking deep into your bones. 

You didn’t even get his name. 

***

You didn’t see him again for a month. 

Not that you often thought about him or his dreamy eyes and ridiculously charming smile or his strong arms around your waist. And definitely not that you sometimes idly wondered where he was and how his day was going while you were grocery shopping or stuck at the laundromat. 

Okay, maybe you did. 

Maybe you went to that same coffee shop every week day, hoping that you might bump into him again. 

And maybe you sometimes imagined those eyes staring into yours and arms around you in situations where you weren’t making a complete fool of yourself. 

You felt silly for being that girl. The one who falls hopelessly in love with strangers you pass on the streets, with anyone who thinks that anyone who so much as holds the door open for you could be your true love. You were a grown up, for goodness sake. You weren’t supposed to believe in that kind of thing anymore. 

But it was those ridiculous daydreams you found yourself caught up in when a team of Heroics stormed into Vil-Tech on a Tuesday afternoon. 

“I apologize, sir, but Dr. Pershing is out of the office today…” You sighed, listening to the supplier ramble on and on about the importance of Dr. Pershing returning his call. You had already scribbled the message down, along with his name and phone number. “Yes, I’ll be sure to give him the message.” It was difficult to hide the exasperation in your tone. 

“That’s what you said the last time,” The man snapped. “Pershing didn’t return my calls for a week. I don’t know why they can’t hire someone who knows how to take a message properly. God knows they’ve got the money for it.” 

You tapped the tip of your pen against the notepad on your desk, feeling a lump beginning to form in your throat. “I apologize, Mr. Wells. I’ll make sure that Dr. Pershing gets your message as soon as he returns.” 

“You’d better,” He grumbled, before the line went dead. 

You let out a slow breath, easing yourself back from the edge of tears. It had been like this all morning. The scientists in the building were off at a conference for the week, leaving you behind to copy down messages and field angry phone calls. 

Stan, the elderly security guard, if you could call him that, offered you a sympathetic smile from his post by the door. You returned it weakly.

Closing your eyes, you tried to think of something else. Brown eyes, charming smile, strong arms. You repeated it like a mantra. Electricity. The feeling of safety. That warm, fluttering feeling in your stomach, and a rush of calm. 

When you opened your eyes again, you found Stan staring slack-jawed as the Heroics sprinted into the building, announcing to you, Stan, and the maintenance staff that you all needed to clear the building immediately. They offered no explanation for their frantic demands, but when a guy in spandex and a cape tells you to go, you go. You were sure that, whatever it was, you’d be able to catch the reason for the strange event on the news later that evening. You’d watched them destroy city hall enough times from the comfort of your living room to be sure that you wanted out of this building as soon as possible. 

But, given that this was your first call-the-Heroics-level emergency, it seems that your idea of immediacy was a bit different from theirs. In the time that it had taken you to grab your jacket, shove your laptop in your purse, and sling the bag over your shoulder, you had already been tackled to the ground by some idiot in a tactical vest. 

You don’t remember much about the explosion. 

You’d later learn that Vil-Tech Labs dealt in more than just technological innovation. The research they’d been conducting while locked away in the uppermost floors of the building, all of that gibberish involving the off-site particle accelerator you’d read about, was both sinister and invaluable. Rather than letting the Heroics get their hands on their files to uncover their plans and stop them from being set in motion, they’d decided to set off an explosion in their own goddamn building. And thanks to that ‘idiot in a tactical vest’, you were one of the only survivors. 

But in the meantime, while you were lying on your back in the middle of the lobby feeling like you’d been hit by a train, you were clueless about the nefarious action of the company you’d spent the last month working for. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the pain in your head from where you’d smacked it against the tile flooring, and the weight of the fully grown man on top of you that was currently restricting your breathing. 

You must have hit your head even harder than you thought, because there was no way in hell the man who’d been starring in all of your daydreams for months was here, now, on top of you, with katanas strapped to his back. You refused to accept that as a reality. Would he even remember you? Why would he? Apparently, the man you’d developed a  stupid little crush on was a superhero. He probably helped people all of the time and you were just another-

“What the fuck?” You finally hissed, gasping for air. The air was smokey and it stung your eyes and nose when you inhaled. 

His breathing hitched slightly when you looked up at him, the look of fear clear on your face. “You okay?” He asked, still hovering above you as he pushed himself up on his elbows, careful to avoid the shattered glass that now seemed to cover every flat surface in sight. 

“I’m… reasonably certain I’m not dead,” You replied, an edge of panic in your voice, which was a bit shakier than you would have liked. “What’s happening? I don’t- I don’t understand- Where is Stan-” You coughed, your lungs burning. 

You idly wondered how long you had before the building started to collapse, its structural integrity surely compromised by the explosion. Of all the ways you could die, being buried alive was up there with the ones you dreaded the most. Your growing panic must have been obvious. 

“Hey, calm down,” He reassured you. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re going to be just fine.” 

The room was still spinning when you felt yourself being scooped up into his arms, the edges of your vision growing more and more fuzzy with each breath you took. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this, Clark” You murmured. You swear you feel, rather than hear, a laugh rumble in his chest just before the world goes dark. Maybe he did remember you after all. 

***

It’s only a little more than a week later, long after you’ve woken up in the hospital and been discharged, that you find yourself sitting in the coffee shop down the street. It’s a Thursday morning, and you’re staring blankly into your vanilla latte. 

You aren’t sure why you’re up so early. The doctors had ordered you to take it easy, and it’s not like you had a job to go to anymore. You could have slept in, made your own coffee at home, and stayed curled up on your couch watching Netflix and hiding from the rest of the world like you had been for the past week. You felt horrible that you’d been associated with a place like Vil-Tech. You should have known that something was off about the place, but you’d never realized it, never bothered to look into anything when things seemed off. You felt so stupid for it now. Were you just as bad as the rest of them? Sure, all you’d done was answer phones for them, but…

Stan, your only friend at Vil-Tech, the kind man who had shared half of his sandwich at lunch with you more times than you could count and always had a smile for you when he greeted you in the mornings, had never made it out of the building. You supposed that you should consider yourself lucky that the Heroics had saved you, but the loss of your friend and the knowledge that Vil-Tech was certainly not what you thought it was, had shaken you. 

You’d felt different when you woke up this morning. Like, maybe, leaving your apartment and getting some fresh air wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Your favorite barista had smiled sympathetically when you walked through the doors. You must have looked as bad as you felt. Considering you hadn’t showered since you’d gotten home from the hospital, you were sure that you were quite a sight. 

“Good morning!” She greeted, mustering up her cheeriest demeanor for you. “The usual, right?”

You nodded, not quite making eye contact as you handed her your card to pay. She quickly waved you off. 

“It’s on the house today, hon. And I insist that you take this chocolate chip muffin. I’ll make you feel better.” 

Your heart ached at her kindness, the act almost forcing tears in your eyes once again. That was the thing that you realized over the past few days. The Heroics were great, but there were plenty of everyday heroes out there as well. Sometimes it was Ashely the Barista, who scribbles a smiley face and a compliment on your cup on the mornings that seem particularly rough. Sometimes it was Stan the Security Guard, who offers to teach you sudoku on your lunch breaks. And sometimes it was a stranger you passed on the street, who catches you when you fall. 

You sat down at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, your vanilla latte and chocolate chip muffin sat out in front of you, untouched for the moment. You didn’t usually sit down to have your coffee, but you had nowhere to be today, and you were finding that you appreciated not being alone for a while. 

You heard the bells above the door jingle, signaling that a new customer had entered the shop. You looked up to see a man with dark hair and a familiar leather jacket walking towards the barista to place his order. You listened closely as he gave his name for his order, though you’d heard it plenty of times on the news this week. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips for the first time in over a week.

Marcus Moreno, your own personal Superman. 

You hadn’t meant to stare, but it was undeniably strange to see the man who had saved you not once, but twice, doing something as mundane as making his morning coffee run. After he paid, he turned towards the groupings of tables and chairs, searching for a place to sit while he waited for his drink to be ready. When his eyes landed on you, you raised your hand in a small wave. You were nervous about how he’d react to seeing you here. You had no doubt that he recognized you this time.

You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for meeting a real-life superhero again after they had saved your life. Were you supposed to pretend not to know each other? Should you have paid for his coffee? Did you make a public declaration to name your first born child after him?

To your surprise, he simply smiled back at you with the most heart-stopping, breathtaking smile you’d ever seen in your life, and returned your wave. It was as simple as that, you thought. Marcus Moreno, the superhero with katanas at this back and a team of Heroics at his side, the closest thing to Superman you’d ever met, was impressive. But Marcus Moreno, the helpful man with a kind, beautiful smile and warm, friendly eyes, whose mere existence had never failed to cheer you up? He was magnificent. An everyday hero, indeed. 

He made this way through the crowd and over to your table, gesturing to the seat across from you as if to ask for your permission to sit down. You nodded, feeling a sense of warmth blossoming in your chest. The same way you’d felt when you saw him for the first time. The same feeling that you’d been dreaming about for months. 

Hope, you realized. 

“Hi,” He greeted. “I, uh, I never caught your name. I’m Marcus Moreno.” 

As you gave him your name, you decided that maybe you could start by just saying thank you. 

General Taglist: @theravenreads @marshmallowtraver @computeringturtle @adikaofmandalore @pascalisthepunkest

Marcus Moreno Taglist: @xjaywritesx​

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you

[gentlemancrow]

jonmartin, pre-romance, #15/28??

I did manage to get BOTH of these in! So we have a combo of "You called me, remember?" and "It's too early for this". Much like the others, the MINUTE I read this prompt an idea popped into my head that I just HAD to go with! This is actually based off a real life incident I had with a friend (They know who they are...) but it fit both Jmart and the prompt PERFECTLY! The names have been changed to fictional characters to protect the innocent. (Hint I was the Martin in this situation) Anyway this was super fun and cute to write and I made myself all squishy a lot. HOPE YOU ENJOY! <3

There were precious few reasons why Martin’s mobile should be ringing at exactly 5:47 am on a Tuesday, and precisely none of them were good. Still, the anxiety inducing sound alerting him to something ominously, ambiguously amiss struggled to worm its way through a rather lovely dream of his acceptance speech after being awarded poet laureate. The poem he had prepared for the occasion was marrow-deep and hauntingly beautiful, or at least he remembered it that way until suddenly he was reciting the lyrics to Abba’s ‘Waterloo’ instead and sweating profusely as the audience began to murmur in disgust amongst themselves. Waterloo was indeed blaring, but from the ringtone of his phone, not from his lips, and his stomach performed a cold somersault with the force of the wave of anxiety that had begun in his dream and crested up to lap at the base of his barely functional brain. The few synapses he needed for basic motor function and reading comprehension crackled to life as he clumsily batted the buzzing device on his nightstand into his hand and squinted blearily at the name.

It was small. That was an immediate relief. If the care home had been calling about an incident with his mother, either her health or the staff’s as a result of her, it would have been the full moniker of ‘Sunrise Acres Care Home’ ticking across the caller ID. Yet small implied a name, a person, someone he had in his phone and not just a random spam call, and anxiety spiked again as Martin scrubbed at his eyes until ‘Jon’ appeared in white hot letters on the screen. Sleep dissolved from him in an instant and he sat bolt upright in a tangle of covers as he smashed the green answer icon with his thumb and threw the receiver to his ear.

“Hullo?! Jon? R’you okay? What’s happened?” he demanded, voice still slumbery thick and groggy.

“Martin!” Jon’s silky, prim voice, thinned out to a tin can vibrato over airwaves, answered, “Good, you’re awake. I need your help. Urgently.”

Martin was already out of bed by the time ‘need’ reached his ears, yanking on the first pair of jeans he spotted in the laundry heap on the floor and hopping on his free leg to the en suite with his phone pinched between his cheek and shoulder.

“I’m on it!” he assured him despite having no clue what ‘it’ was, exactly, “I’m coming to you as soon as I can. Where are you? Are you hurt? Should I bring a first aid kit? I don’t think I have a first aid kit… should I buy a first aid kit? There’s a Boots just down the block from my flat, I could-“

“Martin, stop! What the hell are you on about?” Jon’s annoyed tone cut through his panic like a scalpel.

Martin stopped in the doorframe of the bathroom, brows knitted, jeans puddling around the one leg he’d managed to get through and left once again in naught but his boxers as he gripped his phone back into his hand.

“Huh? What are you on about? You said you needed help!” he snapped.

“I do! But not like… not like THAT. What kind of mortal peril do you imagine I would find myself in at a quarter to six in the morning?”

The initial surge of adrenaline fizzling out uselessly in his veins the more Jon talked, Martin sagged against the doorway and pinched his temples as he strained his words through a colander of civility.

“I don’t know, Jon. You called me, remember?”

“Right, right…”

A terse, lowly hissing silence of dead satellite replaced Jon’s voice, twisting Martin’s nerves as acrobatically as he twisted to avoid the point. He kicked off his jeans and stalked grouchily back to bed where he threw himself face down and unmoving.

“So, what is it then? Wi-Fi gone tits up? Forgot how long to steep Darjeeling?” he hissed into his rumpled duvet, a little nastier than he would have liked given the deadly combination of interrupted slumber and primordial biological survival instinct.

“I uh…” Jon’s voice deflated over the speaker, “I have a… problem.”

“Yes, we’ve so very, very clearly established that. What kind of a problem, exactly…?”

“A problem of an upsettingly… Arachnid nature.”

“A spider…?”

“…Yes.”

Martin propped himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowed with genuine and curious concern.

“Wait like a… like a spooky spooky spider? Or just an ordinary kind of spooky spider?” he inquired with as much levity as he could muster, given one of the likely options.

“Stop saying spooky. And the ordinary kind. I think. No, I’m sure of it. It’s merely the sitting on my kitchen wall like it owns the place and staring at me rudely with all eight eyes, judging me for skipping breakfast again, kind,” Jon answered with clinical pointedness.

“O… kay…?” Martin drawled, suppressing a giggle, “So, what’s the problem then?”

“What do I do?”

Martin opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again as he doubted that he had actually heard Jonathan Sims, the irascible, pompous, only capable of truly looking at him down his nose Head Archivist Jonathan Sims, ask him, a lowly assistant, what to do. With a spider. It would have been almost adorable, had he not scared the life out of him initially, but even that knocked it only down a single peg to helplessly charming.

“I-I mean, the normal thing one does when encountering a spider in one’s home? You kind of only have the usual two options? Er well, three, if you count just leaving it be, but I doubt you’re amenable to that one.”

“No, absolutely not, out of the question,” Jon declared swiftly.

“Didn’t think so,” Martin chuckled, rolling onto his back and sagging in relief into the mattress.

“So?” came the impatient invitation to continue.

“So what?”

“So, then what do I do?” Jon repeated brusquely.

“Well, you either kill it or let it go, of course! What else is there to do? Invite it to brunch?”

“I know that! I’m not an idiot!” Jon erupted furiously, “Good lord, Martin! Do you really think I would have called you because I didn’t know the only two options for dealing with an eight-legged criminal invading my home were kill it or let it go? Really?! Did you suppose this was the very first spider I ever encountered in my life? Is that what you thought? Or perhaps I had my own personal valet to attend to all of my insectoid tribulations, hmm? Just call the bug butler, he’ll attend to it straightaway! Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth? Or do you customarily just air out whatever inane notions blow through your ears, no matter how puerile? Christ!”

Martin let the phone drop onto the bed beside him, away from the verbal darts hurled directly into his eardrum and taxing the output matrix of the speaker, as Jon launched into an affronted, mortified tirade, smirking and shaking his head.

“It’s too early for this…” he mused to himself ruefully, rubbing both hands over his face and eyes.

Once the phone stopped humming and glowing white hot with remote rage, Martin scooped it back up and yawned into the receiver.

“You alright there, Jon?” he asked in a gentle tone.

A ragged sigh crackled into a blip of feedback from lips too close on the other end of the phone.

“…Not really?” came Jon’s tremulous reply, “Listen, I’m sorry I went off on you. That was unfair of me. I-I just… I really… really hate spiders.”

Something squeezed in Martin’s chest, something about the confident bass flayed neatly out of Jon’s usually assertively solid mannerisms, leaving it abnormally thin and rickety. He sat up on the bed, cradling the phone much more gently to his cheek.

“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he assured him, “If anybody sympathizes about being afraid, you definitely called the right person. Need me to stay on the line with you while you whack it? A good heavy book will probably do the trick, or if you need speed and agility a rolled-up newspaper or a magazine might be better?”

“No! I wasn’t calling because I needed advice on how to murder the damn thing! I’m quite capable of doing that on my own. Frankly, I’ve taken rather a vested interest in honing my spider termination methodology over the years. I called you because… well you were going on about how you thought they were…” Jon trailed off in a series of garbled sounds of disgust, “Cute… of all things.”

Martin grinned and had to put the phone on his bare chest a moment, as if Jon might somehow perceive his giddy glee through the receiver.

“To be fair I’m a little odd that way. Most people feel much the same as you do about them,” he commented as he picked it back up.

“True, but that’s not even the whole of it!” Jon went on exasperatedly, “I also overheard you talking… must have been to Tim or Sasha but… you were explaining about how helpful they are to the ecosystem and what a vital role they play in that natural order of things, and how we always see images of them eating butterflies and beautiful things that make them look sinister, but how really they mostly control pests and the like… how you thought they got kind of a bad rap?”

“Wow I uh… I can’t believe you remembered all that,” Martin muttered, freckled cheeks dusting a light pink, “But what does that have to do with your unwanted houseguest in particular?”

“It was the last part, mainly. That’s what got me. The part about fear. That they’re afraid, too… You said there had been studies that showed a clear fear response in spiders… to us. They’re afraid of us, demonstrably more so than we are of them…”

One word of all of those slipped between Martin’s ribs and into his heart. Too. They were afraid, too. His thumb stroked and consoled the edge of his phone unconsciously as Jon blustered on, unbothered by his own unconscious admission.

“And now I can’t do it! Now I have to set this bloody spider free because you think it’s cute and want to make friends with it, and I can’t make it an innocent victim of my fear and I have no idea how!”

Martin couldn’t help but smile, imagining how Jon must be in his flat on the other end, scrunched in a corner all hunched up shoulders and furrowed brow with hackles bristling, squaring off with a creature who was possessed of no knowledge of the fear she symbolized, or the grace to understand the iconographical divorce to her salvation. Only Jon, quivering and still bed-rumpled and frazzled, could understand the magnitude of cupping that fear in the palm of his hand while reaching out to him with the other. And now Martin understood it, too.

“Hey alright, I’ve got you. Steady on Jon, we’re gonna get through this together. I’ll talk you through the steps, you just follow what I say, okay?” he instructed in his best 999 operator performance.

A beat of silence ensued, followed by a much more robust and emboldened, “Okay.”

“So, what you want to do first is get a glass.”

“A glass?”

“Yeah, like a water glass. And a stiff piece of paper or cardboard or something. If you’ve got a bit of post lying about, flyers and coupons and the like, those usually work well.”

There was a period of distant shuffling, clattering, and indecipherable muttering as Jon gathered his weapons, then sucked in an audible breath through his teeth.

“Alright I’ve got them, now what?” he asked, sounding a bit winded.

“Now you very carefully put the glass over the spider, then slide the paper under the glass so you trap it inside. Then you can take it out without touching it or worrying about it scuttling off on you and set it free wherever you think it’ll be happy!” Martin answered sweetly.

“Okay, okay. I think I can do that,” Jon chanted for steadiness, “I’m putting the phone down so I don’t louse it up, but d-don’t hang up, stay on with me, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jon. I promise. You’re okay.”

“O-Okay… Okay… Okay…!”

Martin listened as Jon’s voice grew distant, but somehow stronger, more like a war cry, with the soft pad of socked feet on tile, then a short stretch of silence, and then a chorus of oaths and yelping, rising to the crescendo of a door being messily flung open, shut, then opened and shut again. A drumbeat of returning feet rolled mutely close and melded into the scratchy rustle of the phone being picked back up.

“I’m back,” Jon announced.

“Is it done?”

“The deed is done… your little friend is enjoying some lovely pink dahlias out front as we speak.”

“I’m pleased for her! And… for you, too,” Martin said, voice melting into lilting tenderness, “I’m honestly really proud of you, I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“I… Ah… No, it wasn’t. Thank you, Martin,” came the sheepishly measured rejoinder.

“You’re very welcome.”

Martin smiled privately to himself, and ran a loving thumb down the edge of his phone once more.

“So then may I rightly assume I have permission to come in an hour or so late today so I can go back to sleep?” he continued, already knowing the answer as he flopped back down on his pillows and rolled up into the covers.

He was relieved to hear a husky chuckle rumble through the phone.

“Yes, yes. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

“Brilliant, see you in a bit then? And for lunch?” he added hopefully.

The brief silence as Jon calculated his response hung thick and palpable in the digital airwaves.

“Lunch sounds good,” he replied at length, “See you then.”

“G-Great! Great! See you!”

Their phones clicked mutually off without the awkward jumble of sign-offs, pleasantries, and accidentally stumbling over each other’s words. Martin thought glimmeringly of the spider hunting free in plush pink petals, none the wiser, and of Jon, with new and irrefutable proof that not everything ugly or quietly cunning in the world lurked behind to cast its shadow over him. A spider could be just a spider, and Martin back asleep with both hands still clutching his phone to his chest, dreaming of singing Waterloo again, but this time to a rapt audience and thunderous applause.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #jonathan sims #Martin Blackwood #Spiders #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #distortingbones #Suddenlyapples

[lettrespromises]

PLAN À TROIS.— TODOROKI, BAKUGOU.

A.N:

❝ dear reader,

why hello it is i, nikki, back at it again. this post was specifically written thanks to @sasukelore’s big brain, meaning that this one is for the boys with the booming system, top down, AC with the cooler system😔✊🏻. it’s my first attempt at writing smut (which means it’s a direct ticket to hell) so please bare with me, i hope you’ll like it! if you have any feedback, please feel free to send it to me! also, my requests are open for business hehe.

sincerely yours,

nikki.

P.S: “plan à trois” has a double meaning— it means “threesome” in french but it also literally means “a plan involving three people” which is the core of the story, both literally and figuratively. ❞

Genre: Smut. (All three of the characters have been aged up.)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drugs (but no actual use of drugs), unprotected sex (please use a condom), nudity, spanking, choking, cunnilingus, blow-job, temperature play, threesome, dirty things.

Word count: 6.5k (she’s a big girl, don’t be shy.)

Letter object: One hotel. One gala. One mission. One person to take down. Three heroes. You and Shoto have to play the perfect fake couple to gain your enemy’s trust, the only thing is, Shoto has no clue how to behave as a couple. The unexpected help comes from Ground Zero who seems a bit too impatient and eager to show Shoto how to really treat a lady.

Metaphorically speaking, the heroes are seen as the predators and the villains as the preys, it’s always been that way— an eternal game of hide and seek, which only ends in binary results, either victory or loss. The latest news concerning the hero world had put this little game to a halt: the hushed rise of the anti-quirks drugs were concerning. The enemy was everywhere and nowhere, it was all whispers, a thread of ‘who said what’, mere illusions replaced authentic clues. The rules of the game had been changed into a paradox where the villains became the predators and the heroes were deemed as the preys.

The rule of silence, which could have easily been personified as the ringleader of this dystopic scenario, was cruel— anyone could be suspected of being a link of the drug chain. But fret not, if you were suspected and voices started to echo around louder and louder, a little bit of hush money was the price to pay to reinstate the rule of silence. Anyone could be a culprit, even (or mostly) into the highest spheres of society. Those who are worshipped in an agnostic way, they were on top of the social food chain and, perhaps even, on top of the drug chain. These elites have been very vocal about their will to suppress the almighty authority pro-heroes possess— feeling threatened for their own sake and their own inferiority complex, they were willing to play dirty to be able to rule the country with an iron fist.

The corrupted elites still remained as elites and enjoyed their mondane occupations— galas being one of them. It was a dream opportunity for you as a pro-hero, a room crowded with highly potential culprits served on a silver plate with a cup of champagne to serve as the cherry on the cake.

Stealth missions were highly dangerous if you didn’t have a cover good enough, and treading on the playground of influential people could possibly cost you your career as a pro-hero, but if you managed to succeed, you were bound to bask in glory. Keeping a realistic cover is the number one check on the list entitled “how not to blow up your whole mission and be hated by the rest of the country.” Luckily enough, your agence had already done all the dirty work for you and sent you everything you needed— a flawlessly cut evening attire, a shockingly well-done fake ID and a full file regarding the background of your character, all down to the tiniest details. And I cannot emphasize enough “all” the details...

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Amongst the myriad of details (and some of them were completely unnecessary, I mean, was your favorite fruit really important?), one of them was impossible to ignore. “Shoto Todoroki, really?” His name rolled off your tongue for a reason, you were supposed to play his pseudo fiancée for the night. Your thumb brushed the surface inked with his name, unconsciously wishing that if you were brushing hard enough, his name would disappear and so would your almost wilted high school crush on him.

Your silent complains were cut short, the sound of someone knocking on your door stirred you from the invasion of your thoughts. Then the knocking sound echoed once more. “Just a second!” Has anyone heard of the concept of patience? Waiting a few seconds for someone to open the door isn’t a inhuman task. Eventually (although it could’ve have been funny to let this mysterious person fume because you purposefully took too long), you opened the door to your hotel room and it just felt like you had welcomed a storm in. Much to your surprise, there were two surprise guests, two U.A alumnis just like you— Shoto and Ground Zero.

“Well, shit, were you planning on letting us fucking die in the hallways, woman?! What the fuck took you so goddamn long, ha?” When I mentioned a storm earlier on today, I meant Bakugou Katuski— his annoyance was transcripted upon his face through the frowning of his eyebrows and the wrinkle sitting between them. “It’s good to see you too Bakugou, glad to see you missed me after all this time.” His hands were shoved in his pockets, clearly not keen on listening to your sarcastic remarks nor wearing a tuxedo for the night. “Tch. Keep your smart ass talk to yourself, dumbass.”

You had indeed let a storm invade your hotel room. But unbeknownst to you, you had also welcomed a hypotizing breeze, the polar opposite of Bakugou, and apparently future fiancé for the night: Shoto Todoroki. His facial expression reflected nothing but pure serinity, a signature stoic face which radically clashed with Bakugo’s scowl. Todoroki was so discreet, almost blending his presence with the newfound silence. He was wearing an evening suit of his own, aquamarine was his color after all, it was a known fact since your high school years.

“Y/N, as you may be aware, I am here for the stealth mission. Bakugou is going to accompany us just in case something goes wrong. It was a last minute change, but considering the household names who are going to attend this gala, too much precaution is better than not enough.” Ohh, so that was the reason why the angry gremlin was here. Although, you wondered how Shoto felt about the two of you acting as a fake engaged couple, was he still serene about that? “Yeah, while you two fake lovebirds will be busy eating each other’s faces off, I’m gonna be around to check if there is any intell on these anti-quirk selling bastards.” Each of his word was accompanied by a hand gesture pivoting between you and Shoto and, of course, the same old look of annoyance plastered upon his face. You and Shoto, on the other one hand, appeared a bit surprised at the use of “fake lovebirds”, it just hasn’t sunk in yet... Denial, perhaps?

“Speaking of kissing and shit— you, half and half bastard, do you still have a fucking stick up your ass or do you know how to act in a relationship?!” His interrogation was accompanied with a daring glance thrown in Todoroki’s direction and an eyebrow lifted just to emphasize the characteristic of his question a bit more. A bold question which immediately found its answer from the mouth of Todoroki, needless to say, you felt this remark coming. “Bakugou, you’re the last person here who could pretend having the knowledge necessary to provide relationship advices.” You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape at Todoroki’s remark highlighted by its bluntness, although you quickly changed your mind once you felt Bakugou’s stare landing on you with such rage causing you to hush your laugh by biting your thumb.

“Ha?! What the fuck did you just say, half and half bastard? Use that fucking mouth for yours for good measure and let’s see if you can kiss Y/N correctly. I won’t let this mission be blown up by your stupid ass.” This time, there was a hint of amusement in Bakugou’s voice, it was hard to distinct if he asked that because he truly cared about the mission or if he just wanted to push Todoroki out of his comfort zone. But the ghost of a smirk drawn upon his face seemed to support the second hypothesis.

“Guys, just a second here. I understand why we have to take care of our cover but it’s not like Todoroki and I are going to kiss all night long.” Your gaze alterned between Todoroki and Bakugou, it became impossible to hold your gaze on a fix structure due to how flustered you felt, and soon enough, your cheeks were quick to adopt a rosy tone. “Y/N, are you scared of kissing me by any chance?” You secretly hated the obvious tone of concern in Todoroki’s voice, he was willing to do anything to make this mission a success but also make sure you were comfortable around him. “N-No! It’s just… I don’t mind it.” What a miracle, you finally managed to look at him in the eyes but the blush on your cheeks was as lively as ever. “Then damn, if you don’t mind it just fucking kiss already we don’t have all night, dumbass.” You could tell by Bakugou’s body language that he was growing more and more impatient by the second, his arms were crossed over his chest— he was getting pissed.

Todoroki captured your attention once more when his index brushed the surface of your skin right below your chin while his thumb was carefully set upon your jawline. His orbs shone by their gleam of reassureance, his eyes met yours, as a silent way to ask your for permission and you fluttered your lids shut as an answer. As if it was some kind of second nature to him, his other arm compassed your waist in order to bring you close to him. His lips finally touched yours. Each one of his actions was so soft, you could barely feel them yet, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips were melting ever so perfectly with yours, as if your lips were the sole one which could fit is, you couldn’t help but to hum as the carefulness of his lips overwhelmed you. The kiss was shy, experimental, and yet so agonizing. He was temptingly and agonizingly slow, which only made you crave for more. However, given the lack of oxygen, you had no choice but to (relanctutly) break the kiss. You opened your eyes and basked in Todoroki’s beauty, still in awe at what just happ—… “Oi! Have you ever kissed anyone before, Icyhot? Fucking hell, what was that?!”

Of course this was bound to be expected— the angry gremlin in his natural behavior. You and Todoroki exchanged a look which held a thousand questions before you felt your wrist being caught by a much warmer palm, and eventually, you were yanked straight into Bakugou’s chest (not that you were complaining.) “Open your damn eyes and look, this how you fucking kiss a woman, dipshit.” The sound of his voice roaring against your eardrum made you flinch in the nicest way possible. Bakugou naturally made himself at ease all while maintaining his gaze upon Todoroki who was looking at him in return with a noticeable disdain in his eyes.

Bakugou was challenging him in a way, he perfectly knew that Todoroki was observing his every move, hence why he took the liberty to let his palm roam over the curve of your derrière as a way to taunt him. However, the taunt didn’t last too long not to make you feel uncomfortable. He quickly settled one of his hand on the small of your back (to maintain you as close to him as humanly possible) whilst his other hand was set upon your neck. He didn’t waste any more time and went straight to business.

Bakugou’s kiss was, as expected, a vivid contrast compared to Todoroki’s kiss. While Todoroki’s felt hesitant, caring, sweet… Bakugou’s kiss was rough around the edges and his sole purpose was to make your knees weak. Once he crashed his lips upon yours, he immediately swiped his tongue over the surface of your bottom lip, demanding immediate access to your mouth. You knew better than to upset Bakugou so you pleased and allowed his tongue to explore your mouth— your tongue was at his mercy for a few instants before finding a steady rhythm for you two. His presence was overwhelming— his smell, how close you were to him with nowhere to escape, his mouth, his tongue, everything caused you to rightfully let a moan escape into the kiss. At the sound of it, Todoroki’s eyes widened while Bakugou smirked into the kiss, he knew he made a point. You, in return, started to tug at his blonde hair— the rough atmosphere of the kiss affected your actions as well. Just prior to breaking the kiss, Bakugou’s teeth dug into your bottom lip and applied a few pressures while you were looking at him with pleading eyes to continue. Once he got what we wanted, he ended the kiss with a surprisingly soft peck upon your lips.

With his hand still settled on the small of your back, Bakugou turned to Todoroki’s direction and offered him his biggest smirk to show his secret victory. You were left breathless by the kiss, a series of uneven hot breaths crashed down onto Bakugou’s skin. 

If anyone were to walk in your hotel room, they would be able to feel and even touch the graduating tension in the air which almost felt agonizing. The tension was mostly radiating off of the two men, a silent battle for dominance had been declared through glances, holders of pure will to outbest the other. 

Todoroki observed the scene on his chair, and unbeknownst to him, Bakugou had indirectly offered him the best seat in the room to watch the manifestation of his talents. An almost inaudible sigh left Todoroki’s lips which translated into a sign of discontentment. “Y/N, come here.” The tone was strict, cold even, and you felt obligated to do as told. 

Detaching yourself from Bakugou’s embrace (you could tell he didn’t want to let you go judging from how his palm lingered on your back), you stepped away and made your way to Todoroki, a quizzical look noticeable in the reflect of your eyes. “What now?” You asked. Todoroki gestured to his lap and you knew what it meant, it was a speech without any word necessary. 

Paradoxically enough, Bakugou stared at the scenery in front of him in pure silence, and although it was very unlike him, he was mimicking Todoroki’s actions earlier on- he wanted to witness how Shoto was going to respond to his own deeds. 

You placed your hands over Todoroki’s shoulders to gain stability before sitting on his lap, it was a foreign feeling, but goodness, it was already addicting as hell and you were not interested in finding a cure. Both of Shoto’s hands crawled on the same spot where Bakugou’s hands used to linger just a few moments ago, you understood rather quickly that he was using his own methods against him. You were the center of Todoroki’s attention, his gaze graced your frame and he was loving the sound of your uneven breath, he wondered if he could make your respiration even more irregular.

He paid no mind to mind to the silent Bakugou who was already fuming in his corner as Shoto delivered a succession of pecks on the delicate flesh of your neck, and you tilted your head just enough to let him play on a wider surface. He traded the pecks for a few daring bites on certain areas, he needed to find your weak spot. “A-Ah... Shoto!” the sound of his name rolling off your tongue coated in such bliss was enough for him to curve his lips into a smirk. 

It was a brief moment of peace before he dug his teeth on the same spot and you failed to prevent any whimpers from coming out by biting your lower lip. He knew you were restricting yourself, prisoning these beautiful sounds of ecstasy, and he didn’t like any of it. He focused on your lower lip and rubbed the oh so soft surface with the pad of his thumb to prevent your from biting it, and thus, keeping your sounds of pleasure to yourself. 

“Don’t be shy, love. I’m pretty sure both Bakugou and I can agree on the fact that the little sounds you’re making are too divine to be hushed. Will you be a good girl and let us hear the sounds you’re making?” It was as if his voice was coated with honey, just his voice alone was enough to make you feel weak, and if you paid enough attention, you were pretty sure he purposefully blew a fit of cold air onto the skin of your neck. “Yes, please... I’ll be good, so good.” From that moment you knew you were at his mercy and he enjoyed every second of it. “You’re such a good girl for us.”

And so he continued, but it was rougher this time, a harsh contrast compared to his hesitant kiss from just a few moments ago. His teeth dug into the flesh of your skin harder this time, the sole purpose of leaving a mark on your crimson colored flesh was haunting his mind. To accomplish said purpose, Todoroki alternated between biting motions and a few swipes of his tongue on the newly bruised skin. The whimpers coming out of your mouth shamelessly only added fuel to his fire. He knew what he was doing, and you knew just how sensitive this particular area could get. 

Once he judged it was enough, he delivered a few pecks on the love bites, a way to kiss his art into your skin. “You’re so perfect, love, so perfect with my name written over your skin.” He whispered between kisses. Your head was thrown back, fingers grasping at the roots of his hair, your mouth agape- your whole body language testified of the addictive effect he had on you.

Such bliss couldn’t last for long, and quickly enough, another voice was being heard, a roar even. “Oi, oi, oi! Don’t even think for a single fucking second that you can have her all to yourself, half and half bastard.” It was almost a miracle that Bakugou had observed you in silence, but as expected, patience was nowhere near his forte. He had already crossed his limit long before you sat on Todoroki’s laps. Bakugou’s eyes were strictly focused on your frame, he was completely under your spell after observing how your chest would rise and fall unevenly to grasp any ounce of oxygen. 

Your knees felt weak already, you could only stare at Bakugou and silently ask him to continue, to make you feel even weaker, to make you experience pure bliss. You wanted to say his name, it was right on the tip of your tongue, but as you observed his figure reducing more and more the space between the two of you, you just admired him in silence. 

“Hah? What’re you looking at, brat? You want more? Is that it? You want fucking more? Say no more.” You should’ve known that the wicked smirk plastered upon his face was a pre-indicator of what was bound to happen. He lifted you off of Todoroki’s lap, the latter frowned a bit at the lack of your presence on him, and carried you to the bed before dropping you on the mattress. Todoroki was quick to follow from behind and stood right next to Bakugou, his hands already busy taking off his jacket and unbuttoning the first button of his evening shirt. “I’m sure that Bakugou and I can find a little agreement. After all, we can share, correct?” Todoroki’s rhetorical question found its answer once Bakugou let a discreet chuckle escape from his mouth after throwing his jacket God knows where and messily undoing his tie. “We’re gonna take real fucking good take care of you, baby girl.”

You were refraining yourself from already touching you, it took all the strength in the world not to give in to the most passionate temptations. But deep down, you already knew you were bound to be overwhelmed by pure bliss judging by how they were looking at you. You could only hum in response, unsure of how your voice would have sounded under the heavy influence of desire. 

Bakugou made the first move, after all, his poor soul felt left alone when Todoroki overwhelmed you with pecks and bites. He crawled over you, his knees were on each side of your waist, his hands however, assured total domination- his right hand clutched your wrists now pinned above your hand while his left palm settled by force on your throat, needless to say, the pressure was already applied on your windpipe. “You wanna’ play that game with me, hah?! Let Icyhot have all of you to himself and I got fucking nothing in return? Babygirl, I don’t watch, I fucking play.” It was too ferocious to be qualified as a whisper, and yet, when Bakugou pronounced the last bits of his sentence right in the shell of your ear, you felt like you were floating in pure bliss. “Answer me.” His grip on your throat felt a bit tighter. “P-Please... Ju-Just do whatever you want... With my body.” The lack of oxygen felt agonizing, you were deprived of fresh air and you were laying on the bed while Bakugou exuded pure confidence and domination, an aura so thick, you wished you could’ve touched it. “That’s my babygirl.” 

As Bakugou’s lips crashed onto yours, forcing its tongue into your mouth while maintaining the right amount of pressure on your throat to offer you a panorama of new sensations, Todoroki had already gotten rid of his shirt. If you paid close attention, you could see shy flames on his shoulders, he was absolutely adoring the scenery unfolding before him. Everything about you filled his senses, the sight of you giving in to Bakugou was nothing short of divine, the whimpers leaving your mouth in cascade whether the reason was the lack of air or the fierceness of Bakugou’s intentions was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Everything was perfect. 

You felt the oxygen become one with your body again once Bakugou broke the kiss and allowed his hand to travel from your neck down to your chest, but his eyes were never leaving yours. He wanted to watch you come undone under his touch, he swore it to himself.

“I’ll take the bottom half. Icyhot, I don’t give a damn about what you do, just don’t fucking interrupt me.” His eyes were already set on the prize, your heat in all its glory. Shoto said nothing in response, you were the holder of all his undivided attention. As Bakugou took a firm grasp of your thighs, opening the way to his newfound purpose, Todoroki took over the top half of your body- he started by planting a succession of pecks from your lips down to your collarbone, passing by your neck, and each kiss was amplified by the cold air he was blowing on the surface of your skin. The contrast in temperature cause you to allow a few whimpers to escape, you already knew you craved for more, it was a way of manifesting it.

 “You won’t need that, will you, love?”  He said while pointing at your shirt, as his index was already hooking the fabric. It was a rhetorical question of course, you simply answered by humming. Your silent response was the only thing necessary for Shoto to send your shirt flying somewhere in the room. He continued his trail of kisses down to the valley of your breasts, the same cold air following him as he went.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, had already gotten rid off your skirt, but not before letting his palms explore the generous cheeks hidden underneath it, and eventually, leaving a slap right on this area which caused you to yelp in surprise. The pad of his thumb was already brushing against the surface of the fabric, oh what a pleasure it was when he felt the sensation of humidity coming through your underwear. A sensation so good, so addicting, so divine that it brought a sly grin to his face. “Already so wet for us, babygirl? You’re not wasting your damn time, hah?” Your skin was burning under his touch, you could already feel the chills running down your spine and he hadn’t even taken off your underwear yet. 

Todoroki took the strap of your bra between his thumb and index, and much to your suprise, he used the right amount of his quirk to burn the fabric and applied the same treatment to the other strap. Before you could even protest about the poor outcome of your bra, he planted his lips on your own to keep you quiet. Now, he focused his attention to your breasts and the bits of clothing left which prevented the upper half of your body from being fully exposed. He took the opportunity given by Bakugou who had gotten rid of your underwear which made you arch your back to unclip your bra. There was nothing stopping him now. He let his gaze fell on you, so full of adoration, while he leaned down and caught the last piece of fabric remaining of your bra between his teeth. His eyes held so much envy, so much desires which reciprocated in the reflect of your own orbs. 

Shoto threw your bra out of his mouth, and there you were- your body bare in all its glory. “Fuck, you’re so perfect...” He whispered right against your chest, causing you to let out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. He used his mother’s inherited side to trace the contour of your breasts, he knew he was going to earn a moan in return and he was so please to hear such a sinful melody at the clash of his cold fingers against your burning skin. His thumb and his index worked in harmony to twist the bud of your nipple and overwhelm it by Shoto’s cold touch while his tongue delivering hot saliva on your skin was already doing wonders on your other breast, a perfect balance between cold and hot which made your arousal erupt even more and someone was quick to notice...

“Oi, doll face, focus on me, not on this goddamn fucker. Don’t you feel so fucking good when I touch you like that, hah?” His burning jealousy amplified the voracity of his deeds. Every single one of his touch served the purpose of pleasuring you, but also outdo Todoroki’s touches. He needed to be the best at everything, including making you melt under his touch. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the desire to close your eyes and let your body attract all the attention while basking in pure bliss was too strong and yet, Bakugou’s voice roared into your mind, you couldn’t help but lay your eyes on him through half-closed lids. 

Once he knew he was the bearer of all your attention, he put his body and mind to work. Both of his hands planted your thighs on each side of his body, you felt too weak to move under his touch and did not dare resist the pressure. You whined in advance because you knew what was coming- and boy, did he look good with his face buried between your thighs. 

One long, sharp, vertical lick was all it took to let yet another moan escape your lips once more, and to Bakugou, it was the best reward. The heat of his tongue responded to the heat of your core, it was pure harmony. He licked the your core over and over again, tasting you, loving you, worshipping you even. One time he left lingering kisses to the side of your core, another time he was left licking motions all over your folds because your taste was the best thing he had ever felt. His motions echoed to your whines and moans, he was sure of hearing a sinful melody each time his tongue entered in contact with your skin.

“Keep making these noises for me, don’t be fucking shy.” His hot breath on the center of your heat embraced perfectly the succession of his actions, “Y-Yes... P-Please, I want... I need more.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let a low chuckle leave his lips, in response to your needy attitude, he left a harsh slap on the surface of your butt, to which you whined loudly in response. “Such a fucking filthy mouth you have there, hah?” He smiled to himself, knowing perfectly that what he was about to do was bound to leave you as a whimpering mess. Without any warning, he slid two of his fingers inside your core, and fuck, you were tight. His thumb was brushing against your sweet bundle of nerves which had already been cherished by Bakugou’s tongue earlier. 

You clutched the sheets of the bed to release some of the buildup pressure inside, it was as if a tornado, a volcano and a firework were exploding at the same time in your stomach, each of them resulting in a series of whimpers and moans at the overstimulation. Your lids were shut close already, yet, they kept fluttering over the invisible crimson touches left by both Todoroki and Bakugou.

Speaking over Todoroki, he was tasting you in such a different way as he started to get the grip of Bakugou’s mechanic. His mind kept roaming and roaming, he knew that just one mark on your neck was not quite enough and he needed to beat Bakugou at his own game- he positioned himself right over your right breast and blew a fit of fresh air, causing him to smile at himself for being the reason of such a reaction, and dug his teeth into your flesh. Motivated by the the way you kept tugging at his hair, he kept biting the same area over and over again until sucking your flesh just enough to create yet another love bite over your breast, such an intimate area, isn’t it? And now his whole name was written on it. 

“B-Bakugou... I can’t take it... Ahh! Anymore, please, please...” His fingers weren’t enough anymore, you were pleading his name, begging him to become one with you because you were unsure as to how you were going to keep the unleashed pressure within you ruin you. “So eager for my fucking cock, aren’t you?! You’re gonna count with me each inch entering your fucking cunt, got it?” You were willing to do anything at this point- Todoroki’s bites and his cold touch, Bakugou’s fingers and tongue, it made you fill dizzy but you knew, deep down, you were slowly approaching a pure state of bliss. “Yes... Yes I will.”

For his own purpose, Bakugou took his fingers off your core and flipped you on your stomach so you could be on all fours. You were giving him the view of worthy of a masterpiece: the crimson colored marks on your butt cheeks, the vivid rosy tone of your dripping core, oh he wanted all of you. “Love, don’t you forget that I’m here too, right? Open your pretty mouth for me.” You did as Todoroki preached, opening your mouth for him to stick his index in there. “Suck.” he commanded, to which you obliged by creating hollows in your cheeks and embrace his finger around your tongue, this feeling was beyond perfect, beyond the wildest fantasies his imagination had to offer. He could only let his subconsciousness roam about how his cock would feel around your perfectly pouted lips.

Bakugou’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers turning white in the process while your flesh adopted a reddish tone in response. With the use of the pad of his thumb, he spread the pre-cum leaking all over his length, and so it began: the first inch. “One.”, it sounded more like an order than a statement, “...One.” you echoed, your response didn’t come quick enough to Bakugou’s liking, making you earn a harsh slap on your cheeks in return. Then another inch “Two.” , another faint sound coming from your lips “T-Two...”, yet another slap on your abused flesh. And so it went on, the process remained the same- another inch, another whisper escaping your mouth between sobs, another spank. 

On the other side of the bed, Todoroki was stroking his own length at the sight before him. You were on the brim of tears, and Bakugou didn’t show any mercy regarding your current state. “I’m sorry, her mouth is going to be full soon, she won’t have room to count out for you.” Bakugou grunted in response to Todoroki’s taunt. His strokes became gradually faster, like a crescendo if you will. His other hand, however, was placed right underneath your jaw to give you some support and your mouth was already open in anticipation for what was bound to happen. 

With his hand to keep your jaw steady, you welcomed Todoroki’s lenght into your mouth and he automatically let a groan as the tip of your tongue caressed his sensitive tip. You imagined how rewarding it must have felt for them to hear your own moans and whimpers because hearing Todoroki’s moan felt like a blessing to your eardrums.

Your tongue circled around his cock, your hand was pumping his length, and Todoroki wondered if this is what heaven looked and felt like. Your whimpers were hushed by the presence of his member in your mouth, but somehow, even these half silenced sounds of pleasure sounded even better to his ears. He felt his lids shut close under the miracle work of your tongue while his hand lingered in your hair to motivate you to keep going.

Bakugou, frustrated by this change of plans due to Todoroki’s own personal pleasure, slid the entirety of his phallus into you abruptly. The shock caused you to remove Shoto’s member from your mouth momentarily to catch your breath and release yet another whine before pleasuring Todoroki again. That came as a surprise to no one, not even Shoto himself, but Bakugou’s pace was rough and almost animalistic. 

The sound of his testicles clapping against your flesh testified of the pace and yet, it felt so enticing. Bakugou was not so vocal, but he did leave his fair share of grunts as he buried himself into you more and more until reaching your cervix. It was too much, your core was burning, hell your whole body was on fire. The tears that threatened to fall had put their threat to execution, you knew you were close, the overstimulation was getting the best of you leaving you in a whimpering, trembling mess. 

You continued to stroke Shoto’s length with your tongue, but his need to take control took over him. The same hand that rested in your hair suddenly took a firm grasp of your hair and he thrusted himself into your mouth and from there, his grunts became more repetitive. Truthfully, it was the only push he needed to bring him over the edge, the previous work of your tongue had put him under a spell. A spell he never wanted to wake up from. He knew what was coming, you felt it too but how the tip of his phallus was tickling your throat deeper and deeper. 

Shoto didn’t even notice the small flames making their apparition on the blades of his collarbone, meaning that it was finally time for him to cum. He set your mouth free and hinted his length towards your chest, letting the drips of cum color your skin, and allowed the most magical moan to leave his already parted lips in satisfaction. “Love, look what you fucking did to me. You’re so beautiful, so beautiful with my cum all over you.” Your first instinct was to fill your lungs with oxygen, something so common yet it was cruelly needed. You looked through your lashes at Shoto with pleading eyes while he looked at you with a glimpse of adoration in his. His digit was carefully wiping the excess of cum leaking down your chin to place it right into your mouth. He could only stare in awe at the sight of you tasting him. He felt so full, and fulfilled. He was finally at peace, soaking in pure bliss.  

The grasp Bakugou was holding over your hips became even harsher, which you though was impossible just a few seconds before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grunted, trying to keep his volume at bay by digging his teeth into his lower lip but it was all too much to be contained. He knew his climax was close, so close that he could picture it if he closed his eyes just for a second. Bakugou’s name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer, his name had turned into the only thing you were able to say. “I-...Ah! Inside, inside, fuck, please...”, you felt a wave of pleasure taking over your body, a pleasure so intense, no word could have done it justice. Oh well, that was the sole indication he needed to hear before digging his nails into your sides, causing you to arch your back and bite the sheets, already preventing the cascade of whimpers from echoing in the room. “Fucking hell... Cum with me, now.”

 With one last thrust, Bakugou came within you, his face was facing the ceiling as he came undone with you. His cum slid within you and in return, your body thanked him by letting your own juice flow all over his length. 

Silence invaded the room. No more grunts, no more moans, no more cries. Pure silence inhabited by the uneven breaths of three protagonists who had just touched heaven by the tip of their fingers. Three victims of passion.

Bakugou pulled out of you, earning a whimper in return at the sudden feeling of vacuity. Your legs were shaking, and you secretly thanked every God for allowing you to stay relatively steady on all fours for this long and be able to endure the bestial-like pace of Bakugou. Needless to say, you were panting, you mouth was agape and you were crying for air. Your body immediately crashed onto the mattress, the soft feeling of the sheets enveloping your skin after reaching heaven made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud.

Bakugou and Todoroki shared a look, a small grin even, before crashing down onto the mattress next to you. You were unable to move, your mind was comparable to a wild blur as a result of your orgasm. A rush of words flew through your air but absolutely none of them was powerful and meaningful enough to qualify how you were feeling. At peace? No, not strong enough. Full? Nope, did not carry enough meaning. It was a unique feeling, worthy of all the praises in the world. 

Todoroki draped an arm over your waist and left a trail of kisses upon the flesh of your shoulder, a silent way to thank you for allowing him to experience heaven in a rush. Bakugou, on the other one hand, was facing your back and allowed his index to draw invisible patterns on the skin of your back. Paradoxically enough, the silence carried more words and emotions than an actual speech. Until...

“So... Um, about the mission?”

#my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x katsuki #todobaku #shoto todoroki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #boku no hero fanfic #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #todoroki smut #boku no hero smut #todoroki x bakugou x reader #bakugou x todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki shoto x reader

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

ohh i saw your answer about the sequels of star wars. id love to read you tear through the whole trilogy

Well, I’ve avoided this ask long enough. Part of the reason is this is really a huge topic, far too much for one ask, so I’m going to have to do this at a very high level.

In short, the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy is what one gets when you slap together the goal of selling merchandise and making tons of money, being as risk averse as humanly possible, adding a handful of warring directors with incredibly different visions, and having virtually no imagination when it comes to the imagining and writing of characters.

And we get this beautiful, awful, franchise that for reasons beyond me people seem to actually like (though interestingly, no one seems to like all of it, they may actually like one or two of the films, but no one says all three are actually in any realm of good).

With that, let’s begin.

The Force Awakens

For me this is easily the most tolerable of the sequel trilogy: it’s not great, it’s not terrible. It’s thoroughly watchable, you can be taken along for the movie’s journey and not raise your eyebrows too much at the action and leave the theater feeling this maybe wasn’t a complete waste of your time.

There’s a good reason for that. That reason is called the most blatant form of plagiarism I have ever seen in cinema in my life.

“The Force Awakens” is just “A New Hope” wearing a mustache. Only, it’s one of those cheap mustaches you get from a party store that, if you stare at it too long, just looks like the most false and awful thing you’ve ever seen. The mustache actively makes it worse. “The Force Awakens” is “A New Hope”, but worse.

Seriously, every major character, every major plot point, every major scene I can go directly back to “A New Hope”.

Our story begins when the Resistance, at great cost to our valiant heroes including torture at the hands of the Emperor’s second in command, sends a file out into the wilderness to be received by his people. This file contains plans for the Death Star.

The film then focuses on Luke, er Rey, getting involved in the Resistance, boarding the Death Star, and successfully destroying at the same time even at the lost of a beloved mentor that she just met (trading in Obi-Wan for Han Solo). 

Our evil empire is run by an evil emperor who is so evil he sits in a chair, is served by very Moth Tarkin-esque human storm troopers, and has a second in command who revels in the Darth Vader get up (for no other reason that it makes him feel cool but we’ll get into this).

It’s “A New Hope”. Rey is Luke, Han Solo is Obi-Wan, Poe is a kind of Han Solo, Kylo Ren is Vader, Snoke is Palpatine, Hux is Tarkin, BB-8 is R2-D2, etc.

“But that’s not terrible,” you say, “I liked A New Hope?”

First, it is terrible, it gives a very bad sign of where the sequel trilogy is headed and is just lazy writing. It means that those who produced this franchise were so terrified of taking risks, of possibly ending up mocked as the prequels were, that they will deliver exactly what the original trilogy was. And what’s that? Uh, evil empires, scrappy desert kids, AND MORE DEATH STARS!

That brings us to point number two, the world of Star Wars after the events of the original trilogy shouldn’t support such things. And, if it does, my god what a bleak existence this place has turned into.

The First Order being able to rise easily from the Empire’s remains means that Luke accomplished nothing. Anakin sacrificed himself and had his moment of redemption for nothing. There was no happy ending to the Original Trilogy, our heroes failed miserably, and there is no indication that our new band of heroes can possibly succeed in their place. (More on this as the movies progress).

We now are in a galaxy where this new Republic is so pathetic that Leia doesn’t even give it the time of day and builds her own private army to battle the Empire. The First Order is able to not only rebuild a massive army by raiding villages on many different worlds and stealing children and do so successfully for at least ten years but is able to build a Death Star bigger than any we’ve ever seen before. 

And the movie tries to convince us these are completely new problems, that Luke Skywalker is a hero (remember this is TFA, not TLJ yet), and that somehow these things just sprung up out of nowhere. BUT YEAH, RESISTANCE, WOO!

As for Rey, she’s like... a worse version of Luke. Her only motivation through the entire series is her trauma at being abandoned by her parents. That’s it, there’s nothing else to her, nothing else she ever wants or feels conflicted by. She struggles with the dark side because... the dark side? Genetics? Unclear? She’s absurdly, ridiculously, powerful in a way that’s acknowledged but never that acknowledged (we’ll get into this) and the movies just fail to sell me on her in any way.

Honestly, an easy fix for me would have just been making Rey a much younger character. I could believe a fourteen-year-old having stayed in the desert, scrounging for scraps, believing her parents are coming back every day now. As a twenty-something year old... It starts getting hard to believe she never left. (Also, this gets the benefit of getting rid of Reylo, which is always a plus for me).

As for Kylo Ren, I legitimately walked out of TFA thinking he was supposed to be comic relief. He’s what happens when someone desperately wants a likable, redeemable, villain and we get... Well, as a reminder his opening scene is one of genocide: he pillages and destroys a town with no regret and brutally tortures a man for information. We’re told he’s like this “because evil evil Snoke” and that may well be but throughout the film (and the series) it becomes clear that Kylo Ren’s main motivation is he deseprately wants to be cool. He wants to be a badass like Vader, he dresses in Vader cosplay (either ignoring or not knowing that Vader only dressed like that because his body was completely destroyed), he has these huge temper tantrums and nobody respects him because he’s a toddler in a Vader suit. 

He murders his own father, his parents who (at least in the films themselves) show every willingness to take him back and forgive him what he’s done, so that he can fully embrace his own “evilness”. In other words, he commits patricide to feel cool about himself, then it doesn’t work. 

And the movie series really banks on me feeling conflicted about Kylo Ren or at least wanting him to be redeemed. Granted, the wider internet seems to love him, I just can’t.

Oh, before I forget, the other thing I love about Kylo Ren is that the movies insist he’s a) strong in the Force b) is equal to Rey. Rey consistently beats the shit out of him with 0 training. Kylo Ren has been training in the Force for years. Guys, they are not a Dyad, Rey is far far far stronger than he is and for whatever reason the films never want to admit it. Because I guess we like things coming in pairs now.

But yes, “The Force Awakens”, at a distance not great nor terrible, but a rip off of a movie we’ve already seen that left me going “Welp, the next one’s probably The Empire Strikes Back then I guess we’re getting Ewoks”. I was sort of right on that and sort of wrong.

The Last Jedi

So, JJ Abrams clearly had a vision of where he wanted this sequel trilogy to go. He set up these big questions such as what’s up with Finn, who are Rey’s parents and why was she left on this nowhere planet, will Kylo Ren be redeemed and how, who is Snoke, etc.

Now, I’m not saying these aren’t stupid questions. To be frank, they kind of are. Finn being Force Sensitive was the most inconsequential thing I’ve ever heard of, Rey’s parents should not have been used to drive the plot the way it was, as spoken above I’m clearly team gut Kylo Ren, and that Snoke was actually just Palpatine being the world’s largest cockroach is a beautiful but hilarious answer.

That said, what Johnson did was he decided, “You know what, I’m going to take every trope of Star Wars and completely flip it on its head and absolutely doom the sequel to this movie.”

And by god, he did.

We get a weirdly pointless movie in which Poe, SINGLEHANDEDLY, completely obliterates the Resistance. He first obliterates their bombers by failing to follow command, then goes and bitches about how he’s not put in command when he clearly shows no ability to understand how a military works, actively subverts orders which in turn obliterates the entire Resistance fleet until the only survivors can fit on the Millenium Falcon. They have no ships, no weapons, barely any people, and are ultimately doomed doomed doomed.

We have Finn’s weird subplot with a suddenly introduced character Rose in which the pair aid in Poe’s blowing up the resistance (they send sensitive information using the communication equipment of a guy they do not know, who fully admits to being shady and out for his own skin, and are flabergasted when he betrays them). 

Rose herself is this weirdly sweet person who seems forced into the plot to a) provide a love triangle for Finn and Rey b) provide this forced sunny outlook that I didn’t really need in the film.

We get Rey never really being trained, going into the Cave of Wonders for a few seconds, falling in love with Kylo Ren over weird Force Skype calls (where I did not need to see him shirtless, thank you film) and being horrifically betrayed when Kylo Ren turns out not to be a great guy. Never saw that coming, Rey. 

As for Kylo Ren, well... God, we get Emperor Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, the Emperor. I’m not even that upset about the anticlimactic murder of Snoke (that was kind of funny, especially in the context of Palpatine going, “Bitch, please, you’re in my chair” immediately in the next film) but just Kylo Ren being emperor. And also that the Resistance only escapes at all because he’s so dumb he made their dumb plans seem smart (i.e. concentrates all his firepower on an illusion for ten minutes while Hux goes, “Emperor, sir, we could actually destroy the Resistance right now.”

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t complain about Luke. A lot of people are upset he became a grumpy, miserable, old hermit who sits around waiting for death. Frankly though, in this universe, that’s exactly where he is. He left “Return of the Jedi” thinking he’d saved the world, he’s resurrected the Jedi Order, and all is well. Only a decade later, his students are all murdered by his nephew, the Empire’s back, and he accomplished nothing. He’s an utter failure as a Jedi (though Luke never realizes he knew jack shit about the Jedi Order and was in way over his head but I guess that’s beyond him). Why shouldn’t he go sit on a rock and wait to die? 

Now, did he have to drink that blue dinosaur milk? Well, I guess it was funny, gross but funny so... Sure, I guess he did. But I do like that he gave Rey 0 training, they had one meditation session and then he whined about how Obi-Wan was such a stupid asshole. And then Rey ran off to be with her boyfriend, who then told her that her parents were gutter trash (which again, was funny, but I don’t think that was supposed to be funny).

Of the characters introduced in the movie, the only one I really liked was the hacker, and it was for the actor/the beautiful way in which he gracefully exited stage left with zero shame going, “You all knew I was going to betray you!” You beautiful man, you.

Rise of the Skywalker

First, when something is called “Rise of the Skywalker” you know you’re in for a rough time.

But anyways, TLJ was filled with a controversy Disney didn’t want (half their audience hated it, half loved it, but at least they sold those penguin dolls) so they desperately get Abrams back. Only, what he clearly wanted from his series has been shot to hell, and now he’s left with Emperor Kylo Ren, a completely obliterated Resistance, a dead Luke, a love interest he never planned to introduce for Finn, Rey’s parental crisis being solved with trash people, Snoke just suddenly dead, Hux planning revenge, and then some.

And so, Abrams goes the brave and hilarious route of shouting “PRETEND THAT LAST MOVIE NEVER HAPPENED”

We open to a fully functioning Resistance (their bomber fleet is back, their fleet period is back, they have all their fully trained personnel). We have Rey getting the Jedi training she needed this time from Leia, who is now a Jedi, because yay feminism rammed down my throat to make the audience feel better. Rose says “It’s cool guys, I don’t want to join the adventure this film, I’m going to stay here and work on robots” so that she can gracefully exit the entire plot. Kylo Ren is demoted from Emperor in two seconds when we discover that a) Snoke was apparently Palpatine b) for unexplained reasons Palpatine’s alive (and I am now convinced that man will never die). Kylo Ren tells Rey at the first opportunity that he lied about her trash parents AND REALLY SHE’S A PALPATINE! THIS WHOLE TIME, REY! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. I’M SUPER SERIAL THIS TIME, REY.

Basically, in the course of an overly long movie, Abrams desperately shoves in everything he was trying to get out of the series, while sobbing, and sobbing even harder when things like Finn being Force Sensitive or Lando having a secret daughter get caught. I actually agree with the Producers on this, by the way, the Finn trying to tell Rey something scenes were weird and indicative of a love triangle but him being Force Sensitive instead... It says a lot that the movies did not change when it was removed, at all. And Lando was just this strange cameo who was in the film to make us feel nostalgic.

And this isn’t even getting to the ridiculous 24 hour time limit (which made me think there should have been some video game style clock in the corner letting us know when Dawn of the Third Day is coming), Palpatine’s other secret army on a secret Sith planet that can be easily taken down by taking out one navigation tower, Rey’s hilarious struggle with the dark side in which she has a vision of herself in a cape hissing, Kylo Ren’s hilarious redemption in which the movie in the form of Leia and Han Solo says, “Alright, Ben, it’s time to stop being evil” and he says “okay”, the fight with Palpatine in which I’m supposed to believe he dies for reals because... I have no idea why I’m supposed to believe he’s dead. The Reylo, god the Reylo, and Kylo Ren’s tragic, hilarious, death.

And then, of course, the ending where Rey decides she’s a Skywalker now.

I actually did laugh all the way through “Rise of the Skywalker”, you can’t not, I mean it’s a hilariously awful movie. The only thing that might have made it more hilarious was if we actually did get those Ewoks.

TL;DR

They’re all bad movies, if you want more specifics than this, you’re just going to have to ask me questions.

#ask #anon #anti star wars sequels #anti rey #anti kylo ren #anti reylo #ah what beautiful awful movies #i look foward to the characters being shocked and appalled when yet another evil empire arises in five years #i look forward to them being even more shocked when palpatine's still not dead #that man will never die

[lochrannn]

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings (background)

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 6/?

-

Lila picks up the letter with the marriage license from the letterbox when she comes home from running some errands only a few days after they applied for it. She recognises that it’s from city hall and hesitates for a moment as it’s addressed to Diego and could honestly be anything, how would she know, but she’s desperately impatient so she decides to open the letter and just give it a cursory look and apologise for snooping through his mail later if it turns out to be something else.

As it is, in fact, the marriage license, Lila gets on the phone right away and books an appointment at the courthouse for a wedding in a week’s time, apparently managing to get a slot that just opened up again earlier in the morning, as the waiting time would otherwise have been a couple more weeks. The clerk at city hall had very kindly explained to them how to go about booking a courthouse wedding and what that would entail, otherwise Lila would have been back at square one again even with the license.

All they need to bring is their necessary documentation and a single witness. Lila really hopes Diego has someone he can ask, because she doesn’t want to get one of her coworkers to come along.

She explains this to Diego when he turns up in the evening and he doesn’t even blink at the fact that she opened the letter addressed to him and then suggests he could ask Klaus to be their witness.

“I can ask my brother to take some pictures as well, so we have them as proof for the visa proceedings.” Diego muses.

“Who, Klaus?” Lila asks a bit confused why Diego wouldn’t just refer to him by name, seeing as she’s already met him.

“No, Ben.” Diego says, a bit distracted, as he reads through the letter that she handed him.

“You have another brother?” Lila asks, surprised.

Diego gives her a blank look for a second, then says, “Uh, I have four brothers…”

“And a sister?” Lila puts together, her voice a little high in disbelief.

“Two sisters, actually… all adopted.” Diego shrugs noncommittally, “I guess we’ll have to go through all of that before the interview process.”

Lila could kick herself, because she forgot to ask him exactly what the interview could possibly entail as she’d not heard of it before Diego mentioned it back at city hall. She’s relatively certain that the image that pops into her head of her pretending to be some kind of nineteen fifties housewife in a hoop skirt and delicate curls, who has to fawn over her breadwinner husband while a government agent takes notes, is probably not exactly what they are in for.

But before she can ask about the interview this time, Diego asks tentatively, “Uhm, have you thought about what you’re gonna wear?”

Lila is sitting on the arm of the couch, Diego standing not too far away from her, very strenuously looking down at the letter in his hand. Lila crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, but says nothing, and after a moment Diego does look at her and is immediately flustered.

“I’m not— It’s not… It’s just, if we’re taking pictures, we can’t look too shabby, but it’s also just a courthouse wedding, so we can’t look too fancy either.”

“You think I might turn up to my wedding looking shabby?” Lila asks in an even tone, but she tries very hard to give it an edge and tries even harder not to start laughing out loud at the look of panic that makes its way onto Diego’s face.

“That’s not… I didn’t mean…” he stammers, but Lila takes sympathy and interrupts him to say, not unkindly, “I have a dress I can wear.”

“Ok,” Diego says, clearly relieved that she didn’t end up getting annoyed at him again, and a tiny part of Lila is filled with a little bit of guilty regret for making him feel like he can’t say anything to her without the danger of her blowing up at him. He’s doing her a massive favour, apparently despite the fact he seems to think of her as some kind of raging bitch. It’s not like she can entirely blame him, but for some reason that thought really twists something in the pit of her stomach.

Which is odd, because she usually couldn’t give a flying toss about what people think of her.

-

In the end the day somehow arrives much sooner than she expected and Lila finds herself stepping out of her room in a short red cotton dress that hangs a little loosely off the thin straps across her shoulder but is cinched at the waist with a drawstring with a bow, and she’s put on a pair of black high heel sandals.

She hears Diego in the kitchen, so she makes her way over and when she finds him she is hit by the view of Diego in a pair of very nicely fitted grey suit trousers, a matching jacket, and what must be a black t-shirt underneath as he’s pouring himself a cup of coffee. For a second Lila can’t work out if she’s completely underdressed by comparison, or whether Diego is just wearing the heck out of his clothes, but then he notices her and gives her a once over with a strange expression.

“You look… uh… really, uhm, cute,” he says, a bit hesitantly.

“Ah shit,” Lila says, a bit frustrated, “this is way too casual… Hold on, I can take another look in my cupboard…” but Diego interrupts her. “No, Lila, honestly, you look lovely! You’re perf— It’s perfect! Not too flashy, but you look very nice, really!” Diego says in a reassuring tone and despite the fact she doesn’t quite feel like she’s actually struck the balance, she’s finding it hard not to believe him, he does sound awfully sincere.

Diego drives them to the courthouse and Lila is very intrigued by his car. It's classic Chevy and it’s a bit of a banger of a thing, but inside it smells of leather seats and very faintly of Diego’s aftershave, and Lila is weirdly comforted by that, considering her stomach is rolling with nerves. She’s not even sure why. This means nothing, they are doing this so she can get a visa and yet Lila wonders whether she’d honestly be significantly more nervous if this was her real wedding.

On their way they pick up Klaus, who is wearing a sarong and a tie dye crop top and Lila is interested to see that Diego doesn’t comment at all on the outfit, so neither does she. Then they pick up Diego’s other brother, Ben, who’s wearing a leather jacket over a hoodie, Lila can see as he approaches the car. A lot more sensibly dressed than Klaus, but still a little casual for a wedding. Then again, Lila thinks, he’s mostly only there to take the photos, so it doesn’t actually matter.

The first thing Ben does, as he climbs into the car, is make a snide comment at Klaus’s attire and Klaus shoots back with something equally insulting and after a short back and forth Diego interrupts them in annoyance, “Shut the fuck up back there, or I swear, I’m gonna pull someone off the sidewalk to be the witness, and I’m sure we can get the officiant to take a couple of pictures!”

The two brothers in the backseat take that as an invitation to have an argument amongst themselves about the ungratefulness they have to deal with and Diego rolls his eyes at them in the rearview mirror, but Lila catches the fond smile that etches it’s way across his lips and she’s quite certain that she wasn’t meant to see that. She’s glad she did.

She’s also glad that Diego has apparently told his brothers the purpose of their wedding, which means they don’t have to pretend in front of them and only need to start acting like a couple as they are called into the ceremonial office twenty minutes after their actual appointment.

The officiating judge seems harassed and in a hurry and just makes a grabbing motion as they enter. Diego catches on right away. Maybe, Lila muses, he deals with people like this all the time in his job, so he hands over all of their documents that they have compiled in one file.

The judge gives the paperwork a very thorough look, while Lila and Diego stand a little awkwardly in front of her desk.

“Okay, this all seems fine. Can I see the witness’s ID?” she says looking over the rim of her glasses at Ben.

“Oh, that’s me!” chirps Klaus and flounces over to the desk and hands the judge a passport that Lila doesn’t want to think about where he’d been keeping it on his person.

“Alright!” Says the judge and pulls a form out of a tray and starts writing their names on it in what looks, from where Lila can see it, like remarkably tidy cursive.

“Well then, are you, Diego Hargreeves, free lawfully to marry Lila Pitts?” she asks in a very official sounding voice.

Diego, much like Lila herself, must be a bit taken aback at how quickly they got to this part but rallies and says, in an unwavering voice, “I am!”

The judge turns to her and Lila swallows hard as she hears, “Are you, Lila Pitts, free lawfully to marry Diego Hargreeves?”

“I am!” Lila answers without hesitation, maybe she even sounds a bit rushed, but she hasn’t got the time to think about whether that is in any way embarrassing, because the judge just plows on, “Ok, then you sign here and here,” she points at the two gaps and Diego lets Lila go first. Then the judge says quite impatiently, “Witness?” and Klaus hurries over to put down his own name.

“Great! Then, by the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the judge says, reaching for a stamp and then distractedly adding, “You may kiss the bride.”

Lila watches as Diego’s eyes go wide, and she can’t blame him for that. For some incomprehensible reason she had also not thought about the fact that this might come up.

Diego looks at the judge for a second, but she’s busy sorting out their paperwork, then he looks at Lila and she gives him a half smile and a tiny shrug, because they can hardly just back out of this part now and Ben is just there with his camera at the ready, so Lila feels emboldened by the thought that this is probably really useful evidence for the immigration file, and she’s just about to reach for Diego, as his hand gently lands on the side of her face and in surprise she covers it with her own, and then his lips are softly pressing against her mouth.

She doesn’t even notice that she’s closed her eyes, but for a moment all she can focus on is the warmth of Diego’s hand on her face, the gentle breath that ghost across her cheek as he slowly breaths out of his nose, and the tension in his lips as they move gently against hers. Then he starts pulling away and a deep sense of loss settles into a spot just behind her breast bone just before Diego ever so slightly brushes his lips against hers for one more moment and then he’s gone and Lila almost over balances. She just about manages not to fall forwards and hopes nobody noticed that for a beat she turned into a swooning damsel.

Things turn into a blur then. They are dismissed hastily by the judge and then find themselves outside the courthouse. Klaus has produced a bottle of champagne and some paper cups from somewhere and Ben encourages them to pose for a few pictures in which they are toasting their newly established matrimony.

Lila downs the first cup of champagne she’s handed and immediately asks for a second and Diego gives her a slightly bewildered look, but at this point the day has been too much for her already and she no longer has the energy to feel embarrassed.

“C’mon!” Klaus then says clapping his hands together decisively, “We need to get a few more pictures of the happy couple,” and adds in a loud stage whisper, “for the whole visa things.”

Lila catches a glimpse of how Diego’s jaw tightens in response and when she looks back at Klaus there is decidedly a glint in his eye, and Lila is relatively certain that they are having some kind of unspoken communication literally over the top of her head.

Klaus glides over to stand beside Ben and in the meantime Lila suddenly feels Diego’s arm coming around the back of her and landing on her waist. But his grip is loose and he doesn’t pull her in and she’s unsure of how to go about this herself, so she fusses for a moment before putting her arm around his waist as well and then leaning into him just a bit and putting her other hand against his side.

Apparently encouraged by the fact that she’s not pulled away, Diego’s grip on her tightens and Lila makes the mistake of looking up at him, and their eyes meet and she freezes.

Diego’s eyes are impossibly soft as he’s looking back at her and for a moment Lila wonders whether that means anything. Then she slowly starts panicking as she thinks about whether she wants it to mean anything and just as Diego clears his throat and it almost seems like he wants to say something, Klaus shouts, “Lovely! And now kiss!”

Both Lila and Diego swivel round to look at Klaus but he just gives them an encouraging hand gesture, so they turn back to each other and this time a bit awkwardly press their lips against each other, noses bumping a bit uncomfortably.

It’s not a terrible kiss, Lila has had worse, but it certainly has nowhere near the effect on her that the one in the judge's office did. As she makes a little displeased noise in the back of her throat and Diego pulls away instantly with an expression that looks about as frustrated as she feels, Lila is suddently completely off kilter. In one instant she feels like she might get lost in his eyes and the next they can’t even manage an even slightly romantic kiss despite the fact they have already done so much more together.

Apparently Klaus is also not particularly impressed by their display because he says, irritation in his voice, “Are you kidding me? What was that? Come on you guys, you’re young and hot and… well… not so much unattached, but you know what I mean, you should manage a more passionate kiss than that even if it’s just for the camera! Stop kissing like you would your grandma!”

“Shut the fuck up, Klaus!” Diego growls and Lila can feel him tense next to her, but she’s too busy gaping at Klaus and asks at the same time as Diego speaks, “How the fuck do you kiss your grandma?”

“Never you mind!” Klaus grins at her with a little flick of the hand, “Anyway, we need more passion, right Benny?” he adds, elbowing his brother enthusiastically.

“I’m just the photograoher!” Ben says, raising his hands in defense, one of them still holding his camera, “But yeah that was pretty lame.”

“Fuck you both!” Diego says angrily and Lila definitely shares the sentiment but doesn’t get a chance to voice it, because all of a sudden, she’s vertical, with Diego’s arm firmly behind her back pressing her up against his chest, his other hand at the back of her knee pulling it up against his hip and he is properly kissing her this time.

Almost on autopilot, as her brain has momentarily stopped working, Lila wraps one arm around Diego’s neck, threads her other hand into his hair, and when his tongue runs along the seam of her lips, she opens her mouth and licks into his before he even gets any further. Diego makes a tiny whining noise and Lila automatically presses herself harder against him, even though she’s basically suspended in mid air with only one foot on the ground.

Then there’s a loud whoop from somewhere off to the side and as suddenly as she was tipped backwards, Diego pulls her back upright and then she’s standing unsteadily on her own, already desperately missing the sensation of pressing up against Diego’s warm, solid body and the wet heat of his mouth on hers.

-

It’s become a habit by now.

Diego will go to bed and then lie awake staring up at the ceiling for hours, trying to sort out his thoughts.

But today is particularly bad. It’s past two in the morning and he’s not slept a single minute, despite the fact he didn’t get in that late.

After the ceremony, he invited Lila, Klaus, and Ben out for lunch, mostly to thank his brothers for their help and because his stepmom had taught him how to be at least somewhat classy, so he wasn’t going to marry a girl and then not at least take her out to dinner – or lunch in this case – even if it was a sham wedding. Then he’d driven them all home and as he couldn’t afford to take a full day off, made his way back to his office in a daze.

When he got back in the evening, the apartment was already dark and he couldn’t hear any sounds coming from Lila’s room, so he assumed she’d gone to bed and almost felt guilty at how relieved he was not to bump into her.

Fuck, here he is, lying awake in bed, his wife in the other room—Jesus Christ, his wife!—and he can’t even face her.

But he just can’t work out how to be around her, now.

He has no doubt anymore about the fact that he’s in love with Lila but that realisation has almost made things worse.

For a moment, when he stupidly let himself be goaded into kissing her for the photos, he started imagining that she was kissing him back with the same fervor as he was feeling. It felt so real, he’s not even entirely sure he imagined it, but he worries that he’s just seeing what he wants to see.

He even contemplated telling her about how he feels, but that just wouldn’t be fair, even if a tiny part of him hopes that maybe there is a remote chance that she could at least feel something for him beyond friendship. But it would be so unfair on her if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. They entered their deal under very specific terms and he can’t just go and make things awkward for her, just because he can’t handle being close to Lila without wanting to pull her in and kiss her senseless. He does wonder, though, if he maybe could talk to her about it once she has her visa, once she has options. She wouldn’t be stuck with him then and wouldn’t have to continue pretending to be in a relationship any longer.

Fuck, this is all so messed up, Diego thinks, angry with himself for not being able to keep his feelings under control better. But who is he kidding, that’s never been his strong suit.

He abandons the idea of getting any sleep, so he rolls out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt and hopes that a run around the neighborhood might tire him out enough that he can maybe catch at least a little bit of sleep.

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #fanfic #ongoing fic

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Human Au, One character goes into another character's room looking for him, the closet door is open, first character peeks inside looking for second character, but instead of clothes or the second character they find... something (idk what they found) -pineapple

Alright so there’s a lot of ways this could be seen but the thing I thought first is more or less

Remy and Virgil are roommates for whatever and Virgil needs Remy for smth so he wanders into his room and he’s not there so Virgil checks the closet

Remy’s not there, and while there are some clothes, they’re in a pile on the middle of the closet floor

Lining the walls and sat on the shelves, instead, are… weapons

Guns, knives, some arrows next to what might be a fold-able bow, blow darts, etc.

There’s a box that’s ajar and seemingly holding a dozen IDs sitting next to boomerang and the only outfit that’s hung up is a pressed suit

There are FIVE pairs of sunglasses stacked on top of each other as well and Virgil just wants to know what the FUCK is going on

Remy wanders in a moment later, while Virgil’s still trying to figure out his closet, and he’s just ‘yo babes heard you calling for me- aw, fuck’

Virgil turns to Remy like ‘what??? is this???’

Remy’s ignoring him and just muttering to himself, ‘stupid nosey roommates always get in my closet… no privacy… guess I should lock it but that’s my problem… ugh I liked this one too…’

Virgil, crying in spirit: ‘PLEASE give me some sort of explanation’

Remy: ‘yeah, sure, just uh… oh look! a knife!’

Virgil, a stressed fool, turned around to look, found that, yeah, there were knives but he already knew that, and what was that sudden sting in his arm that can’t be good when did the world starting getting all wobbly and dark-

Virgil wakes up about two hours later sprawled on his bed with a little smiley-faces bandage slapped literally over his hoodie

Checking the spot beneath the hoodie + bandage reveals a little red dot that Virgil knows well enough from when he gets flu shots

He groans

His roommate drugged him after Virgil found his danger closet

Getting up a few minutes later and checking around the apartment finds an unmarked envelope filled with next month’s rent sitting on the table and all of Remy’s things completely gone and packed up- closet definitely included

Great. His ex-roommate drugged him and left after Virgil found his danger closet that is now completely unexplained and will likely never be explained

Well, Virgil can’t let that stand

He wants explanations and by gods he’s going to get them!

Even though Remy’s gone, his presence isn’t completely erased. Virgil remembers him, remembers how he acted and where he went and a few other things

(It’s an anxiety thing, that he knows all this, alright? not stalker-y or creepy or related to the fact that Remy’s cute)

It takes a few weeks, triangulating all the places he went and making calls that are… weird, at the best, and downright life-threatening at worst, but everything just makes Virgil more and more curious until he’s standing in front of an abandoned warehouse that he’s heard mentioned five times in all his calling and is his best lead as to where the hell Remy went

He manages to break in through a window that’s missing its glass pane

Virgil’s confused at first when he finds nothing but a completely empty factory, decorated skillfully with old barrels and rotting planks, but he pokes around a bit and finds a trap door under a couple of marked ‘hazardous material’ containers

(Any other day, any other place? He wouldn’t have even thought of touching them- but here and now, all he could think was ‘where would I hide my secrets? underneath the thing no one would ever touch is probably a good idea’)

He descends the ladder within, dropping into a narrow passage that leads… somewhere

He starts to walk down it when the lights that lined the walls suddenly flickered off, plunging him into complete darkness

Footsteps echo in the hall until five seconds the lights are back on and there are six different people in dark, uniform clothing pointing guns at him

Virgil puts his hands up before they’re even asking him too, confused and unsure of what the hell was happening until there’s a ripple in the ranks, the people getting pushed and nudged to the side as someone presses their way in between them, making their way to the front, and it’s-

“Remy?” Virgil says the minute he sees his former roommate, though he’s- well he’s him but also not, sunglasses there but propped up on top of his head instead of over his eyes, still in ripped jeans and a crop top but their both plain black instead of being bright, garnish colours, a coffee in his hand but in a paper cup instead of a Starbucks one

“You’re- you-” Remy looks confused, brow furrowed, but eventually he just sighs, rubbing his temple before he says, “Drop it, boys, I’ll handle it”

The people with guns obey immediately, squinting suspiciously at Virgil as they holster their guns and shuffle away. Remy’s still looking at Virgil like he doesn’t belong there (which he doesn’t, he really doesn’t)

“How’d you find me, babes?” Remy asked, finally, after the silence stretched for a while. “There are some people who would kill to get here, though I don’t really think that’s up your alley.”

“I made a lot of calls.” Virgil answered hesitantly. He didn’t like implication that he had done something impossibly hard. “And triangulated a few locations. Just… small stuff.”

“Trust me, that ain’t small. Why were you trying to find this place?”

“I wanted to know why my roommate had a closet full of weapons and convenient knock-out drugs on hand.” Virgil snapped, annoyed.

Remy half-shrugged. “Fair enough.” He turned, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

Virgil didn’t bother asking why Remy wanted him to follow or where they were going or what was happening or anything, really, because something told him he’d figure it out soon enough

They eventually reached the end of the hallway, and Virgil had to bite back a gasp of pure shock when he saw the room they entered

The place seemed to be a fully set up agency; the room they immediately entered had smoothed rock floors that were covered in various desks and screens, lights attached to the walls and laid within the floor as well, hallways carved into the walls leading elsewhere

Most of the desks were occupied by people dressed identically to those who had held Virgil up in the hallway, working diligently in their plain outfits, guns clearly hanging against their hips and making Virgil more than a little nervous.

“Welcome… to Nowhere.” Remy said, waving at the room before turning to grin at Virgil. “We call it that because, legally, this place? It exists nowhere. The warehouse over it doesn’t even exist- not if you looked for it solely through google maps and government records, anyways.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious?”

Remy shrugged. “Google maps makes mistakes. Government systems glitch. and if anyone happens to notice, well… most of them don’t have the luck of having had been roommate’s with one of the people who know this place is real.”

Virgil knew he paled at that. “I… hate that.”

Remy nodded. “Not surprised… come on! To my office!”

Virgil felt odd, shuffling past the desks with all the workers staring untrustingly at him as Remy whistled and more or less skipped by, taking them down another hall before ushering Virgil into one of the rooms branching off of it

The room was like the rest of the place- stone walls and floors- but with only one chair in it, set up before a desk + wall of monitors and screens paired with three keyboards and two computer mice.

“Have a seat.” Remy says, sitting himself on one of the outcroppings of stone sticking out of the wall. “We have a lot to talk about.”

And I won’t go further but basically the idea is that Remy’s part of a secret organization, one that’s entrenched in enough secrets it doesn’t even have a NAME. Virgil finding the place is a feat, so, of course, he can never leave. Like it not, he’s part of this place now.

Casting is basically

Virgil: Was just some random person, now works at Nowhere because they’d probably kill him if he didn’t. Doesn’t have an actual job in the agency, just works what Remy works.

Remy: Technical support/hacker. Keeps the agency a secret and deals with all the online stuff. Goes into the field when needed (hence having an arsenal) but he’s more of a stay-at-home man. Sometimes gets apartments when he needs them, but he’s bad at keeping the company secret, so it’s not often

Roman: Remy’s field partner when he goes out. I don’t have many more details for him except that he and Remy are highkey crushing on each other, which causes problems for the sake that a) Roman thinks Remy and Virgil are together/getting together, b) Virgil thinks Remy and Roman are together/getting together, c) Remy thinks they’re both cute but not interested in him. It’s called a convoluted love triangle except they ALL get together because that’s the only thing I write hscbjch

And,,,,, that’s all I have. Hope you like it shdcfbsjdfcsd

#no thoughts whatsoever as to the others but oh well #also I put this on queue so when this posts I'll be at school #just a heads up #the cryptid speaks #the cryptid answers #ts virgil #ts roman #ts remy #ts sleep #pineapple anon

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 12 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 3992

P.s: This chapter was...something to say the least. Maybe a bit out of place but I promise I'll make up for it.

He didn’t know how long he stared into his computer screen, watching the cursor blink impatiently for the rest of the email. There were only three lines worth reading and the first two were introductions of having a good day and hoping to be found in good health. After that, he couldn’t remember his mind fading away until he heard the sound of his office phone ringing. Blinking a few times and determining the email could wait till later. He closed the laptop and turned towards the phone to check the small caller ID screen. It was another business call that the secretary pushed through and Vlad didn’t really feel up to answering it. He pressed the wait button then switched the lines to call to the secretary desk.

“Yes, Sir?” The chipper voice answered and Vlad winced, she was always too happy for his liking.

“Hold all my calls.” Vlad loosen his bowtie from around his neck and shrugged off his suit jacket.

“Of course, Sir.” Vlad hung up the call and leaned back in his chair taking a deep breath and letting it out. Ever since he left the house he could feel a small throbbing pain in his core. He did his best to ignore it, waving it off as nothing more than a phantom pain from a few days ago. But as he tried to go about his day he found himself wincing and clinching his chest every so often. The amount of ‘are you okay’ and ‘do you need a moment’ were getting rather annoying, and thus an hour ago Vlad locked himself inside his office. A slow hand made its way up to his chest once more and Vlad held it there. Tayonna must have really tied herself to him during their first meeting for pain like this to continue. As another faint throb did its course, Vlad felt himself being somewhat paranoid and worried. For who or for what he didn’t know, but the emotions were there and he didn’t know what to do with them. And then, like a snap of a finger, the emotions and the pain in his core were all gone, leaving him breathing heavy.

He sat up and rubbed his temple trying to figure out what was happening. He couldn’t continue like this until the end of the day. Making up his mind he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door.

“Sir?” the secretary jumped as Vlad stormed past her.

“I’m ending my day early, any messages or papers that I need to review I will do so tomorrow. Good day Mrs Andrews.” Vlad didn’t care that he was yelling halfway across the office space as he headed towards the elevator. When he hit the button for the elevator he quickly grew anxious as he watched the floors ding one by one. Cursing the world he turned on his heels and walked over to the stairwell. When the door closed behind him and he peeked over the railing to make sure he was actually alone, he turned ghost and zoomed down to the last floor. Turning human again he quickly walked out the emergency exit towards the parking lot. It was when Vlad finally made it to his car and into the driver's seat that he realized he didn’t want to go home. Naturally, he would be on autopilot after work to get in and drive home. But right now, in the newfound free time he has given himself, he didn’t want to go there. Empty or not. Starting the car Vlad chose not to make any real decisions and drove any which way he felt like turning the wheel.

For three hours Vlad mindlessly drove around Amity enjoying the scenery. Even in places he visited constantly he found new hidden beauties. Has the town always been this lovely? Vlad couldn’t recall nor really remember how often he was able to go out and actually look. Of course, Vlad made sure to do his mayoral duties while in office which consisted of many community projects. But he never truly got to see the outcomes of them, this was amazing, more so than he imagined. He made a mental note that he would have to put time aside for himself to go out in nature. By boy scout honour Vlad swore it that he and nature would once again connect in dear time. As Vlad continued to drive around somewhere on the lower east side of the town a call came through his car’s display. 

“Masters speaking,” Vlad answered.

“I called your office and Almeria said you ended your day early?” Kate sounded a bit breathless on the other end, she was most likely walking somewhere. Vlad huffed quietly.

“Today doesn’t seem like my day either.” He grumbled.

“Water pipes still busted?”

“Hmm...yes and it cost so much to get them repaired.” Vlad had nearly forgotten the lie he had told everyone. Between the morning meetings, the concerned employees, and the pain in his core, Vlad didn't really hold that lie up as important to remember since no one had asked.

“You’re rich, you should be fine. I called to tell you I finished meeting with one of the historians at the Virginia State Library.” Kate pulled away from the phone to give a quick ‘pardon me’ then continued. “There weren’t any recorded documents of any members of your family settling nor doing business in central Virginia during the 17th century. As you know the records the state library has ranges across the whole state. However, there is another library that I’ve contacted that has another set of records that covers small businesses and land that also date back as far. I’ve already set up an appointment to meet with them tomorrow.” Kate pulled away from the phone once more to order a small coffee and a cookie and Vlad felt his sweet tooth spring to life.

“Well good news to you, Miss Way, I have a name that will narrow your search. Vladan Masters, or at the time Masters would have been spelt M, the A and the E would have been mashed together, G I S T E R. Look closer to the end of the 1600s as that’s when he would have been of age or so.” Vlad felt a weird shiver crawl up his back as he spoke the name. Almost like hands latching onto his shoulders and shaking him a bit. He quickly rolled his shoulders and tried to shake it off but it still lingered.

“Right, thank you, Sir, I’ll let you know what I find.” Vlad hung up the call and before he could actually figure out where he was during his little drive. He was parking his car right outside his home. Vlad didn’t want to go in, but he couldn’t sit in the car the rest of the day. ‘You seriously can’t allow some ghost to kick you out of your own house’ Vlad thought to himself taking another look out the side of the passenger window up towards his mansion. 

“Of course not,” Vlad scoffed and got out of the car and headed up the stone steps to his front door. Looking around for any nosy neighbors to make sure the coast was clear. Vlad ghosted through the door and hung up his jacket on the coat hanger. He couldn’t feel any form of energy on the main floor, the house felt almost as cold as it did a few years ago. Vlad hated to remember how empty and alone he was during his darker years of self isolation. He could remember how sad he actually was when the only person waiting for him was Maddie the cat. But when she passed the home grew cold till Dani was brought back and welcomed Vlad’s offer. Vlad teleported into the kitchen in a poof and looked around, nothing, he poofed to one of the living rooms and still no one, he did this all over the first floor until he confirmed the ghost wasn’t around. He floated upstairs and towards the guest room and looked inside and that’s when a feeling of calm settled through his body. Tayonna sat on the bed looking out the windows down towards the garden.

“Evening Miss Tayonna,” Vlad cleared his throat and walked inside but stayed close to the door. The ghost turned around from the window and Vlad could have stumbled over himself at the sight of her. The sun was high in the sky and hung over her like a halo and made her seem to glow. Specks of the sun peeked through her curls warming her skin into a soft brown with red undertones, and her eyes seemed to glow a soft green. She has always taken my breath away. She still wore her stoic expression of wariness and yet it made her seem untouchable. Vlad didn’t know he was holding his breath until his lungs began to scream for air. He tried to not make it obvious as he exhaled and nodded towards her.

“Masters.” Tayonna nodded back towards the man then turned back towards the garden. Vlad felt his heart sting in pain at how cold his name came from her lips. Had he wished for her to call him the wrong name again? Or maybe just not as bitter? He was used to others calling him Masters in an aggressive manner but with this ghost, Vlad knew he didn’t like it.

“I would like to talk to you about this problem you are facing and see if I will be able to aid you.” Vlad didn’t move from his spot, he knew moving closer wouldn’t be a smart move, and the last thing he needed was a blast to the face. One less fight was best for the both of them. 

“Help me? How can you help me when you-...when he isn’t here to be held accountable for his crimes.” Tayonna’s words were bitter and came as more of an attack on Vlad even when she corrected herself. She pulled her knees closer to herself and tucked her head into the space between her body.

“Well for starters you could begin with telling me where you’re from and how you became a part of my family.” Vlad tested the water by taking a few steps closer towards her but quickly stopped when he saw her jerk up and narrow her eyes at him. He held up his hands and raised his eyebrows to show he meant no harm and Tayonna seemed to let her guard down. “May I?” Vlad pointed to the edge of the bed and Tayonna pulled her feet in so there was more space between them. Vlad took that as a yes and sat down comfortably on the edge. He crossed his legs and waited for the other to respond to him. He hoped it would be soon because his tolerance was low and he wouldn’t be doing this all night if he didn’t have to.

“I was brought from the coast, stolen from my people and bought by yours.” Vlad wanted to correct her, his family hadn’t done it, but he knew she meant more so the colour of his skin. “Luther picked me like a friend and his parents were against it.” Vlad wanted to cheer for the fact he had been right. “But he begged them and eventually I was brought to their home. I was ordered to stay by Luther’s side and aid him.” Vlad was surprised by how much he was getting from her. He was sure all day yesterday it would have been hard to get her to talk. But he supposed it was better than having to build up trust over the course of days then finally getting somewhere.

“Do you remember where the family lived?” Vlad turned more towards the girl in hopes he could read her expression. He could tell it pained her to talk about it. Before Vlad could register what he was doing he stuck out a hand and took hers, flipping it over so her palm faces upward and used his thumb to rub circles in the middle. Tayonna gasped softly and she looked between him and what he was doing before yanking her hand back towards her. “I-I’m sorry, I have no idea why I did that.” Vlad held his head and quickly turned away from her. At that moment he had a strong thought that he knew how to calm her down. He knew exactly how to use his thumb to draw small circles and how it would make her feel a bit better. When he touched her, he even felt calmer, relaxed and dare say remorseful.

“No, I don’t,” Tayonna answered and turned back towards the window. Vlad nodded and shot to his feet to leave. He didn’t turn back as he strolled towards his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Vlad quickly kicked off his shoes and fell into his armchair. His mind was now a scattered mess as he scolded himself for doing something inappropriate, if he kept feeling this pulling feeling towards her he was going to get nowhere. Every time he got too close, Vlad’s mind would draw a blank and he would feel and think things that weren’t true. He felt dangerous emotions he would consider private and untouched that would muddy and mix. Vlad grumbled a fruit and snapped his fingers. A ghost maid was quick to manifest beside him and he told her to bring him a drink. Within seconds the maid was back with a tray of not only a full glass but also the whole bottle. Vlad smirked and silently thanked her for being so generous. 

He slowly took sips as he thought of something else to distract him. Work, no, the drive home, not enough, how annoyed he was, that was never a good one. Then finally he found it, though he had told himself he had moved on slightly he still couldn't help himself to think of Madeline. The way her beautiful blue eyes shined as bright as the moon, or the way her now short fiery hair framed her much more mature face. The way she laughed, the way she carried herself with so much power and confidence, the way she could be so serious and yet so caring. Surely it had to be from having children that made her softer but underneath she was hellfire and Vlad could only dream of having her. Dream of what it would have been if he had had the chance to truly woo her.

I have to say sorry, she has to understand. There it was, the little voice in his head that he couldn’t make vanish. Understand what? Vlad shook his head and took another sip of his drink trying to get back to his little fantasy. ‘Maybe two drinks would be better than one’ Vlad thought to himself and finished off the rest before pouring more. I was scared, we both were scared. ‘Scared of what?’ Vlad didn’t want to acknowledge the voice, he didn’t care, he wanted nothing more than to forget about it. He tried to down his second glass but the burn in the back of his throat made it a bit impossible. Vlad was never a heavy drinker unless time called for it, but he always had to drink slowly even then. ‘What were you scared of?’ Vlad grumbled and tried his best to ward off the voice and his lingering questions. She has to know why I did it. Vlad quickly figured out the voice in his head spoke of something else. But of what was still a mystery.

“Shut up,” Vlad grumbled but that only made the voice get louder and louder. It had started as a whisper yards away, but now it was as loud as someone speaking right into his ear. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Vlad covered his ears as the voice started to ramble on and on about forgiveness and how sorry it was. Then like an ice shower, the voice in his head changed and sounded just like him. I love her. Vlad felt something standing behind him and jumped from his seat and turned around to shoot off an ectoblast. He manically looked around and soon landed on the red mist floating down towards the ground and slipping out of the door.

“Get away from me!” Vlad's ears rang in slight pain as Tayonna’s voice rose to a dangerous scream. He stumbled over his feet to get out of his room, the red mist was slowly making its way towards the guest room and Vlad heard Tayonna scream again. I had to protect her. Vlad knew these weren’t his thoughts but he felt the pull of energy flowing through him to aid Tayonna. He turned into Plasmius and shot through the walls until he arrived in the room. Vlad gasped as the room was filled to the ceiling in the red mist swirling around like angry thunder clouds. Tayonna was no longer on the bed but the floor on her knees holding herself. Vlad flew down and tried to touch her but a force threw him back against the wall. 

Vlad groaned and got back onto his feet, in front of him the mist pulled together like a thick wall between him and Tayonna. Tayonna was beginning to cry and Vlad felt his body act on its own as he tried to shoot down the wall with an ectoray. But like jelly, the mist gobbled up his shots and swallowed them. As he continued his attacks the mist twisted inwards forming into a face. Vlad’s face but in a way he was unfamiliar with, pure anger and laced linings of betrayal. The mist then began to shrink into a silhouette of Vlad and slowly stocked its way towards him. Vlad gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he activated his electric powers. He could only faintly remember Tayonna doing this so it had to work. As the mist got closer Vlad shot at it, stunning it a few times but never stopping it fully. The closer it got the angrier Vlad was and a bit worried about what was going to happen. Tayonna was still too choked up on the ground to do anything, not that she could with the collar on. 

“Blasted!” Vlad yelled cursing himself for putting that thing on her. She would have been so helpful right now. “You’re nothing but memories of the past! You’ve done nothing but make her restless and cause trouble for everyone.” Vlad didn’t know why he spoke to the mist as if could hear. But somehow he knew it understood him by the way it would stop a few times. He watched as the mist’s face would halt then twist back into anger, his anger, his rage, Vlad felt it. “Memories can be destroyed, forgotten, and even replaced! You are nothing!” Vlad yelled out once more but that seemed to only make it worse. Within a few quick like static steps, the mist took hold of Vlad by the neck in a vice grip. 

Vlad’s eyes widened as the red mist started to turn human, starting from the fingertips the mist vanished and a tan hand gripped tighter. Like water being sucked out of a stream the mist finally reached the face and Vlad’s heart stopped beating and his core ran cold. He was staring a variant of himself right in the eyes, like an angry lion who had finally had enough of its prey. The doppelganger was every bit of Vlad had he never been shot by Jack’s prototype. Tan skin that saw the softer days of being outside, vibrant cold blue eyes, and dark raven hair that fell a bit beyond the shoulders. But this Vlad seemed so out of place by the clothes he wore. Like a puzzle solving itself Vlad knew now. This was Vladan. This was the person Tayonna was looking for. 

“Then we must help her forgive.” Vlad felt the chills run down his back as he heard his own voice but with a thick German accent. As he tried to pull away and attack once more his doppelganger pulled him closer and squeezed his neck. Vlad gasps and he wishes he hadn’t as he felt the mist starting to fill his body. Vladan began to fade away but the grip on Vlad’s neck stayed as all the mist was sucked into his body like smoke. It burned the back of his throat as the fire in his body became sporadic. He felt a clench on both his heart and his core as mist filled his lungs and seeped into his bloodstream. Every muscle in his body began to clench causing him to fall to the floor only being able to catch himself with his hands. Vlad’s vision began to blur in pure red and he was blind to everything around him. Vlad felt himself fighting and losing control over his body as the pain shot up and down, finally nesting into his chest. He couldn’t scream, the only sound to leave his body were broken breathless grunts and pants. His airways were beginning to collapse.

“Let go of him,” Vlad could faintly hear Tayonna’s voice getting close to him. “Get away from him or I’ll take all of us down.” Tayonna crawled towards Vlad and shakenly placed her hand on his back. She said something in a language Vlad couldn’t understand before a wave of pressure shot Vlad down completely to the ground. The hold on his body released as Vlad heard himself scream above him. The mist lifted halfway out of Vlad’s body with a painful scream then dove back in. Tayonna said the same words over and Vlad felt the weight of the world push him down again. He didn’t feel any pain anymore from his chest but whatever Tayonna was doing did start to hurt. Vlad tried to push himself up to stop Tayonna but she pushed him back down with the same line of words. 

“Tayonna wait,” Vlad said breathlessly and weakly as he once again tried to get out of her hold. “Tayonna stop.”

“Get out of him!” Vlad had somehow managed to roll away before Tayonna could mumble her words again and send him slamming into the floor. Vlad felt his powers cave and he turned human. His hair had managed to fall out of its ponytail and pool in front of his face. Vlad didn’t have the strength to push it out of his way as he felt Tayonna move closer to him. He felt her hand inch closer and he quickly spun around to grab her wrist and pull her down. He rolled them on the floor so he was now on top of her with a tight grip on both of her wrists. He panted hard, he felt so tired but yet he had to keep her down. Inside his body he could still feel the mist travelling through him and then settled into the middle of his core. With a deep gasp, Vlad felt the mist absorbed itself into him. Still breathless and near the brink of passing out, Vlad let go of one of her wrists and brought his hand to her cheek.

“Meine Geliebte,” Vlad knew it wasn’t he who whispered it but he felt the power behind it as he finally felt his body give out and roll off of Tayonna. Tayonna was frozen to the ground as she replayed the words over and over in her ears. Through the same colour eyes, Tayonna saw the man she had once loved. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes stayed wide and her body became numb.

#📖Ghost Stories👻 #vlad masters #danny phantom #dp fanfic #my writing #self ship community

[baddyxangel]

well...that was an...experience.

spoiler

ok babies so i finally finished ALL of teen wolf and umm...wow . im gonna go ahead and share my thoughts, i think im gonna split this into 2 posts 1 where i talk about the characters individually and 1 where i just speak in general

6B never happened, I've never heard of it, never seen it, never touched it, never smelled it and i dont think i wanna see anything anymore.

starting with our MC we have scott, the indecisive, pure, irritating, "true alpha". now my problems with scott are honestly just preferrence but still somewhat justified . if you're familiar with comics you know that we always have our hero who believes and tries his best to save EVERYBODY including his enemies, and he is the "if i kill them i'll be just as bad as them" type. now the issue i have with this trope is that its just annoying and naive , I've always been more of a wonder woman type myself personally i dont see this issue with killing 1 person who has killed hundreds or dozens. Scott in most cases is very...bland ? very cookie cutter goody two shoes type, naive and a little bit soft, and for how gassed up true alphas are he is EXTREMELY underwhelming and one is his only saving graces for me is me being attracted to him.

he lets some of the most dangerous people in his universe roam freely because there is a "line" he wont cross and while i get those are his morals and his code i just personally couldnt fuck with it if i was in pack. his innocence meshes more well with ignorance. AND FOR FUCKS SAKE LET THIS MAN BE FUCKING SINGLE

also this was added in post: he's best on screen when he has other people with him to actually show he had some kind of personality besides "me help people" is what I've noticed. specifically stiles, derek and isaac tbh. i think one of my fav scott moments is "im the hot girl 🙂" and isaac saying "yes you are 👍🏽"

Stiles now we all know stiles, the best friend, the brains of the operation, the sarcastic and funny one who lightens the mood. Now stiles is one of my favorites (surprise surprise) because he's not infuriating to me i dont think I've ever been frustrated with mr.stilinski. he's essentially scotts polar opposite but not really if you get what i mean ? idk i love him, moving on.

Allison- i like her. got on my nerves after her coocoo ass momma died but y know. i thought her and scott were cute and i would've liked her to stay alive

Lydia- my favorite banshee, smart, but for some reason is always being taken hostage, attacked, injured, and put into extremely horrifying situations and i dont think i like that.

Kira- personally my fav of scotts Gf's, i think she's cute, right amount of awkward, strong, interesting and i would've loved for her kitsune to have been able to kill somebody. jeff davis obviously did her dirty with her storyline that was apparently finished even though...we still didnt get to learn that much about her powers ? whatever im upset.

Liam- dont like him . moving on. also the long hair didnt grow on me and i dont think it will.

Jackson- eat shit and die.

coach- we love you.

monroe- i could write an entire 2 hour movie script on this hoe. bitch killed 1 hellhound and start feeling ha pussy and thinking she hot shit fuck this lil girl was annoying, moving on before i keep typing.

gerard- you got what the fuck yo old ass had coming to you

peter- we love an anti hero with a sense of humor 💕 and idc he would've wrecked everybody shit in season 1

kate- girl...you are a mess of a hoe. lemme stop there before i write a book on her too.

chris- ily

melissa- someone give her an award ASAP

sherrif- you were very on and off for me

derek- baby i missed you so much, leave scott musty ass and come pack this puss-

dread doctors- these fuckers used to put fear in my soul when i was little

deaton- i dont like how he's used as a plot device.

desert wolf- LMFAOOOO

malia- i like her because she's impulsive but sometimes those impulsive tendecies make me wanna stomp her head in the ground.

deucalion- also used a plot device after his season and then died for no reason. im so sorry for what this show did to you

im missing a lot but if you drop your opinions and names in the replies i'll share my opinion on whoever i missed

Thoughts on Theo? theo- hated his manipulative ass but he is so fine so it hurt me to be screaming and cursing at my tv when he was on screen. originally i was extremely irritated and annoyed when they brought him back cause i dont think he needed to be redeemed like at all, even though i appreciate that i can love him without him being a piece of shit it was unneeded i think . id still fuck him tho

scott pissed me off cause... is theo just a great liar or does scott just hate stiles ? why would he believe theo so easily yet not ask for stiles part of the story ? its like he forgets that stiles doesnt have claws and fangs and shit so of course he's gonna do what he does to survive when y'all can't protect him 🙄 i swear their werewolf hearing only works when the plot needs it too (ik they probably need to focus to enhance their hearing but still it's so annoying-) the season is essentially based on misunderstandings tbh. everyone's lying for no reason at all. but i do like how we actually get to see the effect of their mental health but this is also what i mean when i was talking about scotts fluctuating intelligence and how he's only smart when the plot needs him to be, how does he go from being the dimmest bulb in the box to being able to be in AP biology or whatever class it was. it makes no sense at all

”scott pissed me off cause... is theo just a great liar or does scott just hate stiles? why would he believe theo so easily yet not ask for stiles’ part of the story?” Because Scott McCall is a toxic friend and an even shittier werewolf (he couldn’t even detect Theo’s cheap lies and let himself be played like a fiddle throughout Season 5) And because Stiles doesn’t cater to Scott’s delusions of werewolf Jesus-hood and doesn’t stroke Scott’s ego like Theo does. Scott simply chose to believe the worst of his neurodivergent best friend – the boy who risked his own life to save his whiny ass countless times – because it suited his agenda, and because he’s pissed that Stiles didn’t share his own trauma with him like Scott wanted and demanded. SCOTT: We can’t kill the people that we’re trying to save! There’s always a choice! And yet Scott has no problem conspiring with Deucalion (Boyd and Erica’s murderer) behind everyone’s back to assassinate Josh and Tracy AND trying (but failing) to kill Gerard – selling Derek and his Pack out to the hunters, violating Derek, and using Derek as his own personal murder weapon to achieve that – just because “He threatened my mom! I had no choice!” A True Hypocrite indeed

[ghostking-wenning]

Radishes, Chapter 3

This chapter took me like a week to write... and the day I finished it, I wrote all of chapter 4 at once! I hope I’ve been doing a decent job portraying a character with a stutter, and I hope that I’ve been more or less tonally consistent... Let me know! Enjoy 💕👻

2200 words, rated G, NingXian, modern au, first date, et cetera

Qionglin glanced at his phone, yet again. The last time they’d met, Wuxian had slipped him a little note with his number on it, signed with a little “x”. For two days, he’d agonized over what to say; usually the only person he texted was Qing. He drafted more than a dozen messages, each time panicking and closing the app. Eloquent as ever, he finally opted for “Hi, it’s Qionglin.” He paced back and forth in his bedroom, waiting anxiously for a response. Did I wait too long? Maybe he thought I didn’t want to talk to him. What if I already blew it? I should’ve said something else... He caught sight of his face in the mirror: his cheeks were flushed and his brows were drawn so tight he was giving himself a headache. 

“Relax,” he told his reflection sternly. He took a deep breath and sighed, sinking into his desk chair. “I’m being ridiculous. It’s just a text message. Worst case scenario is he doesn’t answer.” Sometimes it helped to remind himself that things were rarely as dire as they felt. “Most likely, he’ll answer. He wouldn’t have given me his number otherwise, right?” He reasoned to the empty air. “Best case scenario…” He pondered a moment. What was the best thing that could happen? What did he want to happen? Shaking his head, he decided it was best not to hope for too much. 

He spun in his chair a few times, trying to fill the waiting. It was too early to make dinner, but too late to do much else. With little else to distract him from staring restlessly at his phone, he flicked on the TV and channel-surfed for a while. Eventually he dozed off, still sitting at his desk. A loud buzz jolted him awake. 

“Oh god,” he gasped, clapping a hand over his heart. He snatched up his phone. 1 New Message. 

“Oh god,” he said again.

A crimson-colored chat bubble read: “Hey you! :)”

Qionglin’s heart did a somersault. Logically, he knew it was absurd to get so worked up over a text message, but something about Wuxian made him feel pretty absurd. Though they’d only met a few times, Qionglin caught himself idly (and frequently) thinking about the way Wuxian’s hair swayed when he walked, or how his eyes sparkled when he cracked a joke. He’d been avoiding putting a name to this feeling, but it was starting to look like a full-blown, schoolgirl-style crush -- his first ever. He could feel the blush blooming on his cheeks. Who knew it’d be so embarrassing to have a crush?

His phone buzzed again.

“What are you doing on Friday?” 

If his heart was somersaulting before, it was doing a full acrobatics show now. Calm down, don’t overthink it… don’t get ahead of yourself… just answer the question.

“Just working. Why?” After a moment, he added a smiley face. That’s how normal people talk, right? He hit send before he could somehow fuck it up.

The three little dots appeared at the bottom of the window as Wuxian typed. Qionglin watched with bated breath as it disappeared and reappeared a couple of times. Maybe Wuxian was as nervous as he was? The thought was vaguely gratifying, however unlikely. 

Another red bubble appeared: “Wanna come to my show? I’ll give you the VIP tour ;)”

A wink! Surely that had to be a good sign!

“I’d love to!” Qionglin typed, then erased. Too strong. Be casual. He tried again. “Yeah, that’d be great!” 

“Awesome! Doors at 8, I’ll let them know you’re coming. Can’t wait!” Wuxian said, followed by a map link.

Qionglin realized he was grinning like an idiot, and he didn’t care. “I look forward to it! See you Friday!!” 

The next couple of days seemed to drag by. It wasn’t that often Qionglin had something so exciting to look forward to. He powered through his chores and farmwork, and all his downtime was spent restlessly thinking about Friday. 

Friday afternoon, he wrapped up early. He took a long, refreshing shower and pulled his hair back the way Wuxian seemed to like so much. Arms crossed, he stood in front of the wardrobe, tsk-ing softly at the rows of coarse fabrics in greens, greys, blacks and browns. Almost all of his clothes were work clothes, faded and worn; hardly rock-concert-worthy. He fished out his least-shabby pair of jeans, and a sage-colored button-down. Fashion was definitely not one of his strong suits, but as he checked his reflection, he thought he looked… decent, at least.

He drove into the city, buzzing with excitement the whole way. The radio wasn’t even on, but he was humming a cheerful tune and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Before he knew it, he was scouting out a parking spot a few blocks from the venue, an old nightclub called Devil’s Den. If Wuxian’s band was playing there, Qionglin figured it must be the coolest place in town. 

Checking his watch, he saw he was more than an hour early. He wasn’t familiar with this part of town, so he strolled around until he found somewhere he could hang around for a while. Halfway up the street was a charming little cafe that boasted “Best Milk Tea In Town!” on the banner over the door. It seemed as good a place as any to kill an hour. 

As it turned out, the milk tea was great! Not that Qionglin had much of a reference point. He really only came to the city for the farmer’s market, or to visit Qing. Had he ever come out here just for fun? He’d certainly never been invited out just for fun before now, which probably should have been a distressing realization. In any case, he was here now, and he was determined to have a great night. 

8 o’clock drew nearer and he began to feel antsy. According to the map, Devil’s Den wasn’t far, but he didn’t want to be late, so he set out with a few extra minutes to spare. The sun was beginning to set behind him as he arrived, casting long shadows over the door that were quite apropos for a place with such a macabre name. From the outside, it really didn’t look like much. The windows were shuttered and painted black, and over the door was a small, plain sign bearing its name. Qionglin was almost a little disappointed, but maybe the inside would be more fun.

There were a few other people already milling about outside, so Qionglin joined them and tried to look like he belonged there. After a bit, a large, scowling man with a shaved head and a nose ring came out of the club and stood beside the door, propping it open. A black T-shirt printed with the word “SECURITY” stretched taut over his burly shoulders and chest. He held a clipboard in his hand.

“Y’all here for the show? Get in line.” The security guard said curtly. “Doors in five.”

Qionglin and the small crowd of strangers lined up and waited for the guard to wave them in.

“ID?” He said, when Qionglin reached him.

“Huh? Oh! Right…” Qionglin pulled out his wallet and fumbled for his driver’s license. “H-here…”

“Wen Qionglin…” The guard read, scanning his clipboard. “VIP, eh? Don’t look like one, heh. Here ya go, kid. Yer ticket’s been paid.” He handed Qionglin a ticket printed on heavy cardstock, with red lettering. “Go inside and turn left.” He waved Qionglin away.

“Um, thanks,” Qionglin mumbled as he walked in. After his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he noticed the decor; the floors were dark, polished wood, thick velvet curtains lined the windows, and a few antique Western-style chairs and ottomans stood around the foyer. Band posters and photos in old silver frames covered the walls. A pair of ornate double-doors stood at the end of the short hall, above them the word “Welcome” was written in curly script. To his left, a smaller, simpler door was labelled “Authorized Access Only”. He glanced around a little awkwardly. Was he authorized? Is that what the big red ticket was for?

Suddenly the door squeaked and swung open. Qionglin made a little startled noise and stepped back, already preparing to apologize, though he wasn’t sure what for. In the doorframe, however, stood Wei Wuxian himself, smiling brightly and dressed to kill. 

“You’re here!” He said, delighted. He reached out and grabbed Qionglin’s hand, pulling him through the door. “I’m so glad you made it!”

Qionglin was still staring. Wuxian looked amazing. His hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the colored streak peeking through the underside. He wore black jeans, fashionably torn at the knees and up the thighs, revealing fishnet tights underneath. Under his studded leather jacket, his shirt was cherry-red, sleeveless, and cropped, showing off his bare midriff. Qionglin was trying to be subtle, but he could tell he was already blushing. Oh my god.

“Wow,” he said softly. 

“What?” Wuxian asked coyly. “Do I look that good? Did I leave you speechless?” The twinkle in his eye was devilish. 

Qionglin could only nod, his cheeks blazing even hotter. How does he do that? How can he just say stuff like that without a hint of embarrassment? He wondered. 

Wuxian laughed coquettishly. “Why, thank you, you’re the sweetest. You look great too,” he added with a wink.

“I-- what? H-hardly… I, uh, don’t know much about … fashion or whatever,” Qionglin floundered. He stared down at his shoes. “You look incredible, though…” 

Wuxian giggled again, the sound refreshing as birdsong. “I do my best,” he said, feigning modesty. “Anyway, lemme give you the tour before I have to go backstage!” He took Qionglin’s hand again and pulled him along. Qionglin tried to focus on the “tour” -- really it was just a short walk through the halls to the greenroom-- but he was distracted by the heat of Wuxian’s hand in his.

“... and these are my bandmates! We’ve been playing together for like, ever.” Letting go of Qionglin’s hand, he gestured to three other people dressed like him, tuning instruments and doing warmups. “Guys, this is my friend, Qionglin.” There was the briefest pause before he said the word “friend”. Qionglin thought he must’ve imagined it.

Qionglin waved shyly. “Nice to meet you…” He was answered with a chorus of “hey”s and “what’s up”s. They didn’t pay him much more mind.

“So that’s the tour!” Wuxian concluded. “We have just a couple minutes before showtime. Let me show you to your seat.” He led Qionglin into the main part of the club, a sprawling room with a long carved bar, dozens of tables and booths, a gleaming dancefloor, and a stage set into the center of the back wall. It was much bigger than Qionglin expected, and more crowded. Wuxian steered him to a table with a direct view of the stage. “Best seat in the house,” he said, pulling the chair out. 

“Thank you,” Qionglin said as he sat. “I’m really excited. This is my first concert, you know?” 

“Oh right!” Wuxian said. “You might want these, then.” He pulled a pair of spongy ear-plugs from his pocket. “The speakers are pretty intense. Don’t worry, you’ll hear us just fine.” 

“Oh, um, got it. Thanks!” Qionglin fiddled with them a little.

“Alright, I have to go now. I’m gonna sing my heart out, just for you, okay? So you better pay attention!” He declared. He spun on his heel, his ponytail swishing as he walked away.

“Just for me…?” Qionglin whispered, watching Wuxian until he disappeared behind a heavy curtain. He swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly dry. A server spotted him and strolled leisurely over with a carafe of water, like she’d read his mind. 

“Can I get you anything else, hun?” She asked affably. The neckline of her shirt was low, showing off tattoos of bursting fireworks across her collarbones. A pendant in the shape of a bullet drew the eye directly to her cleavage; Qionglin resolutely looked her in the eye. Her eyeliner was sharp and her lipstick was dark, but she wore a friendly smile. 

“Oh, um, I’m fine, thank you, Miss.” He answered. “Um-- your tattoos are nice.”

She laughed raspily. “Thanks! It’s a reference to an old nickname. This your first time here?” She cocked a well-groomed eyebrow.

“Yes…? H-how could you tell?” 

“The clothes, mostly. Most folks in here wear all black, and crosses and skulls or whatever. Kinda nice to see a little color. Anyway, enjoy the show! These punks are a lotta fun.” She waved over her shoulder as she walked away, heels clacking against the floorboards.

Qionglin watched the empty stage for a while. The curtains parted somewhat and a lady in a strappy dress stepped out. She adjusted the microphone, and leaned in. 

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the Devil’s Den,” she drawled. “Tonight we have a great lineup of local bands, starting with some of our favorite familiar faces. Let’s give it up for…” She paused for dramatic effect. “The Whatevers!”

Qionglin blinked, confused, but he clapped along with the rest of the cheering crowd. The curtains whooshed open, revealing Wuxian and his band. Qionglin clapped harder and waved a little. I thought they’d have a cooler name… He chuckled quietly.

The Whatevers launched right into a song. A driving guitar melody led into Wuxian’s gorgeous singing. Qionglin’s breath caught in his throat. The spotlight shone down on Wuxian, and everything else faded away. Enraptured, Qionglin stared, listening intently. The lyrics were about new beginnings and taking chances, and Qionglin swore Wuxian was looking directly at him the whole time.

#my writing #my art #wen ning #wei wuxian #ningxian #mdzs fanfiction #modern au #keep an eye out for dumb little easter eggs

[starker-eternity]

Going Once, Never Twice

So I’m sitting down, watching a favorite musical of mine and I’m hit with a Starker drabble idea... wow, I need help. In other words, you know you’re in trouble when everything starts prompting fics/drabbles... Trying to write a soft, fluffy piece and my mind runs away screaming...

Pairings: Starker with background Stucky, Phlint, Thorki, Brutasha

Warnings: AU, no powers, kidnapping, inference to non-con/rape, human trafficking, characters aged up, dark avengers

****

NEW YORK CITY

In the hallway of the building, the squeaky wheels of a cart could be heard as it was pushed by the closed doors. No one paid it any mind if they heard it, background noise as it was. As it neared its destination, music could be heard coming from behind the door that it stopped at. The European folk music that was playing completely covered the slight noise of a key being slid into the well-oiled lock and the door opening.

A young, auburn-haired woman was sitting on a couch in the living room, back to the opened door. She was humming along to the music playing as she was browsing on a Stark tablet.

All of a sudden, hands came into her vision before her face was covered with a sweet smelling white cloth. The woman struggled for a brief minute before her body went limp. A pair of strong, leather covered arms lifted the sleeping woman and deposited her body into the waiting cart. The music was turned off and the apartment was vacated, squeaking wheels echoing in the hallway.

****

STILL NEW YORK CITY

Ned laughed at MJ’s latest quip about Flash’s latest embarrassing debacle at Columbia University, the prestigious university that all three attended. Flash Thompson was one of their high school tormentors that unfortunately followed them to the same place for higher education. The guy was a Class A Douchebag, but he was sadly also intelligent. Luckily for them, he was too busy being a “small fish in the suddenly bigger pond” to give them much trouble.

As they passed a smaller newsstand, one of the dying breeds that sold physical papers, both young adults waved to Mr. Lee, the owner. Neither paid the loud headlines “HOW MANY MORE WILL GO MISSING?” from the local newspapers any attention.

Ned opened the door to their apartment building, The Priscilla, and was about to hold it open for M.J. when her raised eyebrow made him think better of it. Knowing her disdain for “gallant gestures”, even if they were more suited to be labeled “general politeness”, Ned rushed through the door and M.J. followed. Both automatically headed to the front desk to see if they had any mail waiting on them.

As they neared it, both noticed a young man standing at the desk, two medium sized suitcases and a back pack lying on the floor next to him. Ned took note that the man was a respectable height, with a head full of chestnut curls. His body seemed to be on the leaner side, but hard to tell as it was covered up by a shapeless tan sweater and baggy jeans. MJ was more interested in his non-descript luggage, trying to see if she could deduce where he was from without asking.

As both young adults stopped near him, the young male turned and gave them a shy smile. “ Hello,” he greeted, his voice light and cheery.

“Hi!”

“What’s up loser?”

The young man looked surprised by MJ’s caustic greeting, so Ned quickly rushed to assure him. “Don’t mind MJ, that’s how she greets everyone she doesn’t find currently offensive. It means she might like you if you don’t do anything incredibly stupid.”

The other man’s smile grew strained as he replied, “That’s both encouraging and terrifying really.”

MJ stared at him for half a minute before she gave a smirk and declared, “Cool. I’ve decided you can hang out with us. You know, if you want. I’m MJ.” She shook his hand briefly before turning her gaze on Ned.

“Oh! I’m Ned. MJ and I live on the 14th floor, apartments 1402 and 1404.”

Ned shook his hand as the brunette started to introduce himself. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Peter -“

“Here’s your ID back, Mr. Parker. Everything seems to be in order.”

Ms. Hill, the front desk manager, interrupted the introductions, coming back to the counter from the back room. In her hand was the aforementioned ID, which she handed back to Peter. As Peter busied himself with putting his card back into his wallet, Ms. Hill turned to Ned and MJ.

“Afternoon Mr. Leeds, Ms. Jones.”

“Afternoon,” they both chorused.

“I see you’ve already met Mr. Parker.” As they both nodded, she continued to state, “Excellent. He’s moving in today. Short notice, but lucky for him we had a vacancy. If he has any questions and can’t reach someone at the desk, he can ask either of you. Makes my job easier. He’s actually your neighbor as he’s leasing apartment 1403.”

Both Ned and MJ looked at each other in surprise. Ned spoke his thoughts first, “1403? Wasn’t that leased to Wanda Maximoff? She just moved in!”

Ms. Hill looked at Ned, a slightly annoyed look on her face. “Wanda Maximoff just moved out,” she replied. “Said something about missing Europe too much and not being able to handle Americans very well.”

“Wow,” MJ murmured. “She didn’t even give it a chance.”

Ned and MJ shrugged at each other while Peter stood by, his fidgeting fingers a clear indication that he was slightly uncomfortable. MJ looked back at Ms. Hill and asked, “Mail come yet?”

“Mail was delivered, always something for you two,” she said, even as she was leaving the counter to retrieve it.

Ned looked at Peter and explained, “Mail is delivered to the front desk everyday and the building staff sorts it for everyone. Since the desk is usually manned 24/7, you just ask for it.”

Ms. Hill came back and handed a few envelopes to MJ and several to Ned. “Looks like your mother wrote you, Ms. Jones and there seem to be several letters from Ms. Brant, Mr. Leeds.”

Ned blushed, but said, “Yeah, Betty’s on her 6 month Humanities Internship and has no access to email or WI-Fi. Snail mail is her only option. Luckily her handwriting is much better than mine.”

“You still have to send her replies, dork,” retorted MJ.

“Oh, that’s right,” Ned replied, his expression falling for a moment.

Ms. Hill shook her head slightly before looking at Peter. “Will you be receiving regular mail from family members or significant others, Mr. Parker?”

Peter smiled sadly at the older woman before shaking his head. “I don’t have anyone to write to me,” he explained. “My parents died when I was 6 and my aunt and uncle died last year. I don’t have any known family left.”

Ms. Hill’s gaze suddenly grew sharper at Peter’s words. Her body straighted and she suddenly seemed much more interested in the conversation. Peter noticed this immediately, but dismissed it as neither Ned nor MJ seemed to noticed. Ms. Hill looked him straight in the eye as a slightly creepy attempt at a sympathetic smile crossed her lips. “So sad to be all alone in the world,” she murmured.

Peter nodded and dropped his gaze from hers. He was uncomfortable, but didn’t want to insult the staff of his new landlord on the first day.

“Well, make sure to come to our social Friday night, Mr. Parker. I’m sure you’ll make dozens of new friends,” assured Ms. Hill.

“Yeah, and we’ll help introduce you to everyone on the 14th floor,” cheered Ned. The trio moved away from the desk, Peter moving to grab his suitcases and backpack. He followed the other two to the bank of elevators, a necessity in a high rise building.

“So the 14th floor? How many residents are there on the one floor?” Peter asked Ned as the trio waited for a lift to arrive.

“Actually it’s the 13th floor, but the complex was built by superstitious engineers. They didn’t want to label the floor with the unlucky number 13, so they skipped it and labeled it 14 instead.”

As the arriving elevator doors slid open, allowing the three to enter and began to close, MJ could be heard saying, “And according to urban myth, the hotel is actually built on an ancient burial ground. Some say they can...”

Maria Hill waited until the trio was definitely gone before she called out, “Jasper? Come man the desk. I’ve got to talk with Fury.”

****

MALIBU

Genius. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist.

All tags that accurately described the 35 year old man that sat in the conference room, signing some digital paperwork. Impeccably groomed and well-dressed, Tony Stark was a man that exuded wealth and privilege. His genius was not a trait detectable with the naked eye, but anyone who owned a smart phone or tablet clearly held the results of just two pieces of his work. Of course he was a philanthropist, he had to constantly work on his public image. Not only for the good of his company, Stark Industries, but also so that nosy paparazzi didn’t focus on other things that went on in his life.

Playboy. Naturally his other titles encouraged every gold digger and fame seeking maniac to accost him. Men and women, he loved them all. But after almost two decades of flitting amongst the debutantes and trust fund babies, Tony was tired. He wanted to settle on a more permanent arrangement. Something similar to what his friends had. Alas, he hadn’t found “The One” yet.

His friends.

Tony looked around at the men and woman he chose to surround himself with. All with talents and gifts of their own, they had all combined their resources together to form Avengers Incorporated. AI was a company that just about had their fingers in every pot. Military weapons, espionage, technology, bio-engineering, pharmaceuticals... the list went on. Stark Industries was his legacy left to him by his father, but Avengers Incorpoated was his baby. And it was because of some of the work done by AI that the government and law enforcement turned a blind eye to darker activities that might cross their paperwork and desks concerning the founding members.

Tony cracked his neck before setting his tablet down and said, “Well, congrats to us, Gentlemen and Lady. We’ve just closed the deal that will net us an easy $500 million in profit.”

Smiles were shot his way as the others wrapped up their paperwork. “I think we deserve some R&R,” he declared. “Let’s escape to The Compound for a few weeks. Let Pepper and her team earn their ridiculous salaries and hold the fort down. Bring all of your partners.”

Natasha, a fiery red-head, gave Tony a sharp grin. “It’ll do Bruce some good to get out of his labs for a bit. He won’t admit it, but he’s getting stressed.”

Phil, head of AI’s legal legions smiled softly. “Clint’s been such a good boy lately, he deserves such a treat.”

Tony swiveled his head towards the other two men in the room. “How about it, Point Break? Buckaroo? Steve and Loki are the newest pets to the group. They good for an escape?”

Thor frowned, but he agreed, “Loki needs some discipline work. It would be good to get him isolated where I can devote my full attention to his conditioning.”

James, or Bucky to his friends, nodded his head. “Steve’s not completely there yet. It would do him good to interact with Bruce and Clint. See that it’s okay to surrender. Little punk keeps trying to test the boundaries,” he added, his tone fond despite his criticism.

Natasha turned to Tony, “What about you?”

Tony grinned at her, “ I’m sure I can find -”

Tony was interrupted by a chime coming from his phone. It was a chime that was echoed simultaneously by every cell phone in the conference room. The tone was unique, easily recognizable by everyone present. With raised eyebrows all around, each adult took out their phone and opened the text they all received.

AUCTION LOT 23-WM-PBP. 5 Min. Click link if interested.

Tony leaned back in his chair, even as he clicked on the provided link. He was prepared to be disappointed, as the last several dozen offerings had left him uninterested. As the link was loading, he noticed the others putting away their phones. Made sense, after all they had already won their auctions and had their prizes. No need to look anymore for them.

As the link opened on his phone, Tony took one look at the provided pictures and nearly fell out of his chair.

Perfection.

Clearly pictures lifted from an ID card and from a surveillance camera, the details were still captivating enough to knock the breath from him. Whisky-colored doe eyes stared up at him, almost teasing beneath a delightful mop of chestnut curls. Pale skin, complimented by smooth lips in an adorable grin, teased with a light brushing of freckles across an impish nose. A full body shot hinted at a lithe body, but gave no more tantalizing details.

Tony felt interest immediately spike in his lower regions, just from looking at those lips. He could already imagine those eyes filled with shining tears as those lips were wrapped around his cock. A red collar would look stunning around that pale neck. He eagerly absorbed the provided basic details.

AUCTION LOT 23-WM-PBP

23 year old Caucasian male.

Name: Peter Benjamin Parker

Status: Orphan

Current Location: New York City, USA

Height: 5’10”

Weight: approx 167lbs

Hair: brown

Eyes: hazel

Availability: immediately

Starting Bid: $100,000USD

Tony clicked on the provided link, which he knew from experience would redirect him to a secure server that housed the auction house, Black Noire. He was going to win this auction, no matter the price. And he was absolutely sure it was going to skyrocket.

As he waited the few precious minutes before the bidding frenzy went live, he glanced up at his friends. By now, they all had noticed he hadn’t put his phone away in disinterest, so their curiosity was piqued. He smirked, waggling his eyebrows, watching as delighted smiles crossed his friends’ faces.

Another soft chime echoed from his phone, indicating bidding was now open. As he confirmed his first of what he suspected would be many bids, Tony couldn’t help the already possessive chant going through his mind.

MINE.

#starker #fic drabble #kidnapping #human trafficking #dark avengers #inferenced non-con

[bluepluto03]

mcu spiderman rewrite/au i may or may not do

ok so first quick disclaimer! i do not hate the mcu spider man movies in any way!! i actually enjoy them quite a bit and have seen homecoming like 4 times! and i absolutely adore all the actors in the movies, especially tom, zendaya, and jacob 

but the problem w/ the mcu spiderman movies is,,, they’re just not spiderman. at least from a writing/thematic perspective, which sucks bc so much other stuff about them is great! like tom holland is the perfect peter parker, which is why it seems so close to being right, but with the way the script is actually written... it’s just. not spider-man. 

i feel the need to explain all this/my problems w/ the movies b4 i get into the actuall au idea/plot, so please bear with me for a sec

for context, I’ve loved spiderman my whole life. i’d watch the cartoons when i was younger, and then went back and watched them all again when i was a bit older and figured out how to pirate stuff lol. i didn’t really know how to get into the comics, so i just kinda read wikis and got second-hand info from fanfics and the other movies

to me, spiderman, (at least, peter parker spiderman,) was always about like... a kid, who saw the world was broken and fixed it because he could. he had the power to fix stuff, so he did. 

as a kid w/ mental illness and a not so great home life... that was something really really important to me. to see another kid out there, who’s been through some shit, but finally has the power to make stuff better, so he is! and it would make me think, maybe i can change stuff for the better, someday, if i just get my chance

but,,,,, the problem is mcu peter parker isn’t that. 

instead of becoming spiderman bc he knows there’s bad in the world and wants to fix it, suddenly his motivation is impressing tony stark?? and don’t get me wrong i don’t hate tony, but the way they wrote his and peter’s relationship basically trapped peter. he could no longer be his own hero, bc he was tony’s successor. and that's never who peter parker’s spiderman was?? he was never a follower, he was a trendsetter. he didn’t become spiderman for approval, hell he had dozens of newspapers constantly slandering him. 

honestly the following in someone else’s footsteps thing was always a miles morales thing. he had to step up to the plate and fill the shoes of a spiderman who had already existed for years and was beloved by the whole city. obviously thats not all he is and simplifying his character to that is incredibly obtuse, but i bring it up bc tbh alot of stuff w/ mcu peter parker is just straight-up ripped off from miles morales. like how peter now goes to a fancy private school, is no longer poor (which is a huge thing w/ peter parker’s character in like every other incarnation), has a living father figure, and is bffs w/ ned, who is a straight-up rip off of miles’s best friend ganke. (for the record tho i adore ned and jacob i’m def keeping him in my rewrite,,,, also i’m glad he’s in the movie bc having a plus sized poc protagonist thats not constantly mocked is incredible) 

so, i’m complaining about all this stuff lol but ur probably wondering how exactly how i wanna fix it lol,,,, 

first, give peter an arc thats more than just..... i want tony to believe in me. my idea for that is basically a type of thing where he learns to rely on others! bc like... peter isn’t good at working w/ others lol, he’d much rather do it all himself so no one else gets hurt. (like in the andrew garfield movies where he just,,,, webs his gf to a car so she can’t run into danger lmao) 

the plot would start at a similar ish position to homecoming, though tony never recruits peter for civil war. tbh not sure if it even happened but we’ll disscuss that later

peter’s been spiderman for a few months, after a trip to oscorp left him w/ a radioactive spider bite. currently no one knows about it, and he’s doing a pretty ok job of dealing w/ everything on his own. until he takes down a big bad, lets say rhino for now, and gains a ton of publicity. after stooping a hudge disaster he’s suddenly in the limelight, and catches the attention of one norman osborn, aka the green goblin 

now, quick sidenote. green goblin is genreally seen as pretty goofy, but there are comic versions of him that are legit terrifying. if im being honest i didn’t even know about that version until i read aloneintherains fic birds eating other birds so ig thats kinda ish how i’m imagining this version of norman? though alot more composed, like the man who could someday turn into that 

so norman becomes intrested in my boy peter, and starts sending ppl after him. possibly the sinister 6, but uhh maybe not bc tbh i think this “rewrite” needs to be split into 2 “movies”/works and i might wanna save that for the hypothetical pt2 (btw if i write this it won’t b for a while cause i got other stuff going on but ig if ppl are intrested i might write some snippits/make more content for it) 

so basically the main plot is peter dealing w/ all these big bads on his own, doing ok at first but later getting really fucked up, and eventually revealing himself to ned and mj which ends up being the only way he can save the day in the end. by relying on others! yay!! 

thats it for the main plot, but don’t worry y’all we got other stuff going on too lmao 

so, for one. my boy peter is realizing he has a crush and just,,,, freaking tf out. (i have yet to decide if it’s on ned or mj. or both. sue me) the crush isn’t definitely resolved in p1, but i imagine there’d be some cute thing of him suddenly realizing and freaking out and almost revealing his powers. 

thing 2! tony stark! he is still in here, and still a mentor to peter, but in a pretty drastically different way. one, he doesn't know about peter being spiderman. he doesn't even suspect it lmao. he just gets involved bc of.... some sort of reason bc peter is so smart. do i know why just yet? no. does it matter? probably but i’m writing this pretty late after i had school all day so i’m too tired to care 

bc tony basically gives peter a real internship/mentorship type thing, peter now has access to all this tech!! and all these funds!! fucking lit!! so he changes from his pajama suit to the fancy one, tho he actually built it!! which i feel like him making his suit is a really big really important part of his character. so it doesn't really have all those random things tony added, tho peter might add stuff himself. he gets Karan as a like assistant ai as part of his internship but she never gets put into the suit

for the fist part tony plays a super minor role but like,,,, the first part is about osborn taking an intrest in him, and him confiding in ned and mj. the second part norman is become progressively more dangorus and peter has to fight him and stuff, kinda proving he is strong enough to be spiderman/be trusted to the whole world, beyond just ned and mj. also him actually getting together w/ either one or both of them bc...... bc i want that. 

oh btw idk if tony finds out or not in p2? if he does it’s either at the end or in a scene like the one w/ may bc like. please imagine the shenanigans of peter and ned (who both have high intellegence but low wisdom) in tony’s lab, obviously trying to hide the fact that peter’s spiderman. like he walks in on them and peter looks all frumpy bc he’s been trying to change real fast, and ned’s shirt is messed up bc he just stuffed the mask down the front of it, and mj is just. chilling behing them. so tony just like assumes stuff and is like....aight.... have fun.... 

oh btw the last big change that i didn’t really have anyway to insert natrually into this,,,, so remember how i said ned was kinda a ripoff of ganke? well, the writers claim he’s a “composite character” so i figured, why not give him traits from other famous spiderman side character so he actually is a composite character! 

so like,,,, throughout p1 it’s referenced that ned has a kinda dickish estranged ish dad that he hates and his mom doesn't really like but kinda forces him too... theres some mentions of his dad wanting him to transfer to a private school and being kinda rich, bur he dosen’t want to bc he knows his dad is a total dickead,,,, anyway end of the movie we find out norman osborn is ned’s dad, and ned hates him even fucking more bc it’s like bitch?? u tried to get my (maybe) bf murdered?? tf?? and its lowkey bc he can’t reveal peter’s id, but then in p2 after norman takes matters into his own hands and tries to kill peter on his own ned just fucking yells at him while the man is in jail and is like fuck u lmao 

soooo thats my really messy au idea!! i’m really tired sorry if this is hard to understand or rude! for the record i have nothing against the ppl who adore these movie’s, i just think they could be better! 

#spiderman #spider man homecoming #spiderman homecoming #peter parker #tony stark #michelle jones #ned leeds #parkerleeds #spideychelle #peter x mj x ned #marvel #pls rb i worked p hard on this #my post #my writing #norman osborn #green goblin #mcu spiderman

[awesomelogicflip]

Family Matters Chapter 1

It has taken me a long time to get up the courage to write this. For many reasons, I’ve delayed and postponed the publishing of this book. Mostly because of its subject matter: Inko Midoriya. I can easily imagine the reactions I’ve already gotten from that name alone.

Disgust. Admiration. Curses. Maybe even a bit of hero worship. Its a name that stirs up many feelings and even more names. Monster. Destroyer. Invader. Hero. Idealist. Wild Card. The number of pedestals that she’s been put on or forced into as some see it, is as numerous as they are vague.

I think the main problem people have with her is that she is not a clean subject. Not Black-and-White and can’t be slipped into a slot that perfectly wraps her entire being up in a little bow. Coming off the heels of massive characters like All Might and All For One, it was undoubtedly hard for her to be put into one camp or the other.

Was she a villain? No, she saved lives. Was she a Hero? No, she’s taken lives as well.

To me though, she was my mother.

So many people have gotten caught up in the results of her actions that they’ve forgotten that most of the things blamed on her were far out of her control. From the activation of our family genes to the incidents during my time a UA to our fights against the Villain Alliance to the rise of the JJE to HIM breaking out of prison, were not her fault. I know no matter what fame or infamy that these events gave her and I, my mother would’ve rather had a normal happy life. Would’ve rather had me have a normal happy life.

Instead, we both had to become strong to face what was ahead.

-Izuku Midoriya, My Mother The Warrior.

Chapter 1

Seeing the scorched blown out front of the corner store, Yagi wondered if there was ever going to be a time in which he wouldn’t be shocked by the random acts of violence he had, would, and knew he’d continue to come across.

He sighed behind the smile he forced to make as genuine as possible for the cameras around which had been, before he’d arrived, trying to get a better look at the crime scene but were now squarely focused on him. Between the click-flash of photos being taken and the rush of questions from the news anchors trying to crowd around him, he was tempted to simply make a statement on how the situation was handled and exit as quickly as politeness would allow.

Hell, this wasn’t his scene. Heroic involvement had ended when the commission of the crime had and even more so now that the police were investigating but he wanted to offer a helping hand, especially considering who’s Hero Firm was involved. But he was here now and leaving as soon as he got here would cause an unnecessary media stir.

Giving the crowd a small wave of acknowledgment, he strode through the police cordon, and only barely managed to not completely halt when he got inside.

What he saw was enough to turn his stomach which was good, it meant that he wasn’t completely jaded but that was the only positive thing he could pull from the horrible sight before him.

The store was totally wrecked. Shelves of snacks and other things knocked over and scattered. Chunks of the cashier’s counter were smashed into pieces and in the very rear of the store, the refrigeration units were cracked with glass, warped by heat, scattered everywhere on the cracked floor glittering like little round diamonds among the debris.

It would almost be bearable to look at if it wasn’t for the bodies. Two boys, teens really, still dressed in their school uniforms were sprawled out over the shelves. With their closed eyes, Yagi could easily imagine that they were just asleep or out cold if it wasn’t for them being cut in half.

Cleanly sliced at the waist with a massive pool of blood under them.

With the shelves down, he got a clear view of the next victim who was... Male? Female? A body was all but planted into the far wall, clothes burned away and surrounded by scorch marks.

The last body was without a doubt the worst. The man was identifiable as a hero, his black and white checkerboard suit hanging loosely around his curled shriveled husk of a body. Yagi was grateful that it was a full body suit that covered even the face because he didn’t want another horrible sight etched into his memory to follow him to sleep.

He hadn’t known the young man well, he was a Member of the Rakka firm, One of Endeavor’s people CrossCheck. He didn’t know the young man’s actual name.

Endeavor, Japan’s Number 2 ranked hero, stood over the body with his usual scowl even fiercer that usual, and raised his head to look at him as he entered. Yagi wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but it seemed that the flames that he wore dimmed slightly. The death of any hero was one the affected them all, even more so when you’re responsible for them and it was clear by his body language that he was just reining himself in. He wanted to lash out but had no target...at least until he showed up.

“What're you doing here?” He began as he stepped around the body, putting himself between Yagi and the rest of the store. “This is my scene and if you think-”

Yagi raised a hand to hold back the argument and was rather surprised that the Number 2 Hero actually stopped. “I’m just here to help. I was in the area when I heard the sirens.” He couldn’t help the second glance at CrossCheck and winced. “I’m sorry.”

Endeavor scoffed and looked away, his fists clenching even tighter and making the material of his gloves creak. “The idiot was supposed to be off duty. Don’t even know why he was here, damn it. He knew my rules and now...”

Yagi knew. While Endeavor called them ‘his’ rules, they were pretty universal for hero firms all across Japan. Interns were NEVER to patrol alone.

“What happened?”

The other man looked back at him with a glare, his mouth working as if chewing on something unpleasant. He sighed and then pointed at a old man with white hair that Yagi had passed right by without noticing. The man was being questioned by the officers over at nearby ambulance, a blanket around his shoulders. “A robbery gone wrong or just gone violent. The cashier, Mitsuki, over there was ringing up a customer when a young man and a young woman in hoodies and facemasks came in and told everybody to get down on the floor.” He waved in the direction of the two teens that had been sliced in half. “Those two were unlucky. According to our witness the our murderer at large simply cut them down as soon as they'd entered. No warning or anything.”

Yagi felt his blood run cold. There weren’t many who could just kill like that. His surprise must’ve shown on his face because Endeavor nodded. “Yep. And if it wasn’t for th-”

“Uh, Sirs?” They both turned to look at a female officer, who crisply saluted them then waved over to the backroom of the store. “We’ve managed to pull footage from the cameras.”

Yagi turned back to Endeavor. “You mind if I stay?”

The man’s response was another snort as he spun on his heel and made his way to the indicated place.

Yagi motioned for the officer to lead and with a grateful nod, she paused as they reached the battered looking door. The smell of burnt everything from the body on the wall, while not gone, was still strong enough to unsettle the stomach. “Do we know who did this?” He asked, hoping to distract her.

She jumped at his question but shook her head. “Not yet, All Might sir.” She twitched her head in the direction of the burned body just enough to indicate it but keep it out of sight. “We know that is one the girl. We’ll have to use dental records to ID her. We have an APB out for the other but...”

She didn’t say more. She didn’t have to.

The male was in the wind...for now.

When they got to the backroom, she stepped aside for him to get a view of the computer that sat at a desk tucked into the corner of the room among the shelves of products. Two other police officers with Endeavor looming over the one who was working at the keyboard, gave him enough space to see clearly. “We’re going to start, at least two minutes before the robbery.”

“Play it.” Endeavor snapped and with the click of a mouse, the video began. The camera angle was perfect and gave them all a full view of the entrance, Cash register, and the store as a whole. The second camera was of the backroom they stood in now, with a view of the door the led into the store proper.

“-ou boys better be planning’ on buying what yer readin’.”

The slightly balding owner, Mitsuki, was pointing squarely at the two teenagers who, Yagi hated to remember, were dead on the floor in the next room. The two boys were standing by the magazine racks flipping through ones they had in their hands. The one closer to the door, shrugged, mumbled something and waved off the old man.

It looked like the man was getting ready to kick them out when two people entered the store. A woman and a boy who couldn’t be even ten years old. From their similar green hair and facial features, they were certainly mother and son. The woman held her son close, guiding him to the fridge section in the back, past the teens.

“Whi-...on...nt?”

“-at one...”

The microphone wasn’t clear but snatches of what she was saying painted enough of a picture, a picture that that was even more solid after the boy pointed at a frozen ice cream treat of some sort and she picked it up. The pair made their way over to the counter and it was at that time the two boys lost interest in whatever they’d been reading and, putting the magazines up in the wrong spots, made for the exit

By all rights, in Yagi’s opinion, that’s where it should’ve ended. The obvious school friends should’ve left, the mother should’ve been able to buy the treat for her son, which, now that the pair were closer to the camera than anyone he could see that the treat in question was his All Might Special. It made him think back for a moment about the commercial he’d done for it more than a year ago now. ‘Red, white, and blue-berry’ if he was remembering the line right.

Then his attention was grabbed by a fast shadow of movement by the entrance, in the far left corner of the video. No one saw it happen. The boys were fooling around like teens do on their way to the door, with roughhousing shoves and laughs and the man and woman were focused on the purchase as the little boy was just beginning to pull the wrapper off.

The doors were thrown open with such force that the glass cracked and a new pair filled the space. The noise was enough to make everyone jump. With bulky gray hoodies and fully matching outfits of loose jeans, Yagi had a hard time at first figuring out who was who until the smaller of the two raised her hand and shouted. “ALL YOU DOWN ON THE FLOOR!!! NOW!”

There was the expected moment of disbelief which was followed after by GREAT and unexpected violence. Even with preparation, even with seeing the bodies first hand, Yagi barely held back the jump of surprise as the male stepped in around her and sliced his hand right at the school kids even as the boys were in the process of raising their own. His fingers wreathed in energy of some sort, lightning from the look of it and it smacked both boys clean off their feet and sent them crashing into a shelf right behind them. When their bodies settled, they did in two pieces. Neither moved after that and Yagi hoped that the shock had knocked them out.

The streak of power continued like a wave, knocking over row after row of shelves and smashing the refrigeration units in the back of the store. There was no sound from the video, the microphone was unable to record all the noise for the moment.

However what he saw next amazed him. The mother scooped up her child in one arm, who was screaming when the sound came back, and with her other, grabbed for the store owner. He had been nearer to the end of the counter and was dragged along as she ran for the backroom.

It caught the criminals off guard as neither of them reacted until she was just getting to the door.

“Where you going?!” The male shouted, coming around the destruction her created with his hand cocked back like he was about the throw a pitch. Energy...no, it was electricity, wrapped around his hand and he flung it just as the woman had let go of the owner and grabbed for the door. She’d been so close, Yagi was certain that had the villain acted just a second of two later she would’ve made it. Hell, if she had been alone, he was certain she’d have made it.

But between her just putting her son down at the same time, she was reaching slowed her just enough. Plus, the little boy, like any child in this situation, clung to his mother and so was holding her hand as the ball hit her square in the back.

Again the sound cut though in time with the flash as she and her son were smacked down as if they’d been shoved, the concussion that followed sent the two rolling across the floor in different directions. This put the shop owner into action and he hurriedly threw the door shut and locked it. Not a moment too late, as another cracking blast crashed into it.

The man seemed to struggle, looking from the mother to the son as if not sure who to help first.

“Pause it.” Endeavor instructed. The video paused with the old man in mid-scramble, the male villain in mid throw and his partner barely having moved up to now except to get, what he guessed was, a better view.

“The woman and her son?” He asked. From the fact that their bodies weren’t still on the floor, it gave Yagi a little hope.

The one of the officer’s nodded though his face was grim. “I was here when they were taken to the hospital. The mother in particular was in critical condition, last I heard.”

 The video continued and Yagi noticed right away that there wasn't a decibel of sound coming from the speakers. He found out later that the microphone had been blow out, the blast had been so close to it. The man charged for the door and the hero had to bite his tongue to keep from cursing. However, Endeavor growled his characteristic grumble. "Can't be 18, if a day." The criminal, in his rush for his victims, had not only closed in to the camera that gave them a better view but let his hoodie slip off his head. He was young enough to be a classmate of the students he killed but that's where any consideration of youth flew out the window. It was silent but Yagi could easily read the bellows and shouts from the way he blasted at the door, an expression of seething rage. When it was becoming clear that his Quirk alone wasn't getting through, he began to beat on it with his fists.

"Officer." Yagi said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the nearest police officer, a woman with a tight bun of hair pinned down. "Make sure to update the APB with this face before we leave."

If the other hero had a problem with him taking even this little bit of initiative, he didn't show it.

It was a movement near the counter that reminded the hero about his accomplice. The woman, possibly girl if the age of the male was any indication. She was leaning over the counter reaching for the cigarettes but froze, clearly seeing something that the camera and the man couldn't.

     If there had been a warning, Yagi didn't know. But a form crashed through the glass window closest to the counter, and in one smooth movement landed and body checked the girl. Half-bent over a counter, she had no chance to defend herself and was knocked clean off her feet and into a shelf. CrossCheck, his hero costume perfectly fitting him, was aware enough to not look at the criminal he'd knocked over and spun to face the other one. His right hand snapped up, palm up and forward. A huge circle of energy sprang up in the air before him. A black disc-shaped shield. Not a moment too soon. The other villain's reactions were just as sharp. There was no hesitation or pause. He just swung around, arm leading and fired.

The power hit the shield, which held the ball against it for a brief moment, then the color flashed to white and the villain's own attack fired back at him. Much faster than when it had come at the hero. So much so that, the man had to throw himself to the floor in order to dodge. The ball of electricity splashed against the door in an shower of sparks, buckling it slightly.

Yagi glanced over to Endeavor, the question obvious. The Number 2 Hero's ever present frown had etched deeper lines in his face at the appearance of one of those under him. "His Quirk is called Reflect. Any attack taken on his shield gets bounced back with twice as much force."

Nothing else was said nor did Yagi want anything to be said. The next minute of video led to the death of a hero in training. Even the police officers who were watching the video with them shared grim expressions.

CrossCheck was on the man before the sparks had touched to floor. His lunge carried him clear across the space between them. He not once lowered or dispersed the shield, instead using it at a battering ram to pin the criminal to the floor.

The blow was powerful and savage. Meant to take down right away before the criminal had a chance to adapt.

It had been working. Two more swings of the shield, the force of which was doubled as it changed color. The young man's face was bloody and there was a hazy unfocused look to it that anyone who'd ever really had their bell rung could recognize.  

Then CrossCheck stiffened in the middle of cocking his arm back, half turned, and looked down. He shifted his leg as if he'd snagged his foot in the debris around him. It was only when the hero in training actually stumbled that Yagi noticed that a hand was wrapped around his ankle.

The girl. He saw her now. She'd crawled from where she'd been thrown and had grabbed him while he'd been focused. As CrossCheck began twitching and then shaking, it was apparent to everyone that this was the moment when everything went wrong. His arms went limp, his shield present but with his sudden forced paralysis, useless.

The state of that young man's body must have been from whatever her quirk was. And no doubt it was painful, to what degree Yagi didn't know. The only pain he was sure of was the sting in his chest as he watched. And he knew it had to be worse for his fellow crime fighter.

In the time that CrossCheck was held in place her partner, face dripping blood and beginnings of bruises starting to color his skin, began to stand.

He raised a hand and the biggest electric blast yet flew right at the Hero. Somehow instead of striking him, most likely because of the beating that he’d been on the receiving of Yagi supposed, the aim was off and it caught the very edge of the shield.

The shield that was hanging low.

The energy rolled along the edge of the shield in the same way a glass filled right to the rim would hold that little bit more before spilling.

The shield turned black just as the power curved down its edge.

Right into the other villain’s face.

The video cut then.  The explosion that followed or the concussion that came with it too much for the kind of security camera that would be used by a convenience store.

“I’ll get the bastard.” Endeavor’s voice was the first roll of thunder before the hurricane makes land. All threat and menace. With a quick step, he marched for the exit but the stopped as if he forgot something. He turned a fierce gaze at Yagi and pointed. “He’s mine. If you find him, back off.”

He then left without another word. Yagi couldn’t blame the man for wanting revenge. A charge of his was killed but that wasn’t what worried the hero.

He took one last look at he blank screen, chewing at his bottom lip in thought. No, it was the condition of the villain still at large.

If he was somehow uninjured by that explosion, which he doubted then he was working himself up for nothing. Any criminal with any sense would find a place to lie low. Yet that face, the man’s expression twisted into such hatred, quickly shoved aside his hopes for a rational mind. Which made the more possible situation, that they were currently dealing with a desperate INJURED unbalanced murderer who was now doing God knows what.

It was that very idea that put an extra bit of speed into his step as he left the building to start patrolling the streets.

XXX

Darkness and cold. Drifting and weightlessness. No air to breathe or anything to hold.

That was all that Inko felt at first. A numb empty nothing that flowed across her being and clawed away at her rising consciousness. The more she became aware, the more information followed. Bit by bit, her senses came back. She felt gravity finally settle around her, her back pressed into the soft surface of a bed, a blanket over her. The chill on her exposed skin told of air conditioning and let her know that her arms were on top of the blanket, not under it like she normally slept. A tightness on the back of her skull and a pressure on her face was another warning that something was off.

A steady thrum from deep in her chest was matched by a noise that felt distant yet closer than she thought as if hearing through a long tunnel. Then someone somewhere turned up the volume and she was able to clearly make out what it was.

-EP.

HISS.

BEEP.

HISS.

BEEP.

HISS.

BEEP.

She moved to turn off what she thought at first was an alarm or rather...she tried. Barely had she worked her unbelievably tired muscles to move her body in the direction of the sound when pain lanced through her. White, hot, and pure, the darkness before her exploded into fireworks.

The pain made her open her eyes and, after laying still until the fire searing all the way to her bones cooled, it took her bewildered mind a long while to figure out that the white void before her eyes was a tiled ceiling.

The realization came upon her suddenly and violently, not as a comforting revelation but a hollow horrific flash that yanked her sluggish mind up by the neck and throttled her. With it, all details that had been distant snapped vividly into place. The beeping was a heart monitor.

The hissing? A breathing machine.

The pressure on her face and head? The strap and warm plastic of a breathing mask.

The bed? A hospital one.

Opening her mouth, which felt dry and filled with too much of her tongue, she coughed. Doing so made her whole body throb and the sound that came out was raspy and scratchy.

“Oh my god.” The unexpected voice just next to her would’ve made her jump if she’d had the energy. Instead, she twitched as a familiar face came from her left to peer over her. Mitsuki Bakugo’s expression was a mix of things, shock mainly as her hand covered her mouth. It was around that moment that Inko realized the gasp she’d heard wasn’t her own.

“I’ll get the nurse.” Another voice, Masaru’s she realized, quickly said, followed by the sound of quick footsteps around her and of a door opening.

“Stay with us, Inko.” Mitsuki pleaded, her red eyes looking at her with more worry than Inko had ever seen from the woman in the years she’d known her. She felt the woman’s hand close around her own as if she needed to hold her in place to keep her here.

The open concern was a relief...

...at first.

Then worry followed and it made her stomach twist into knots as it slowly hit her that she hadn’t really seen herself yet. She could barely turn her eyelids in any direction without pain coming in like a slap across the face and the numbness was fading so SO slowly. With a cold vice closing around her heart, she began to think of what she would do if the numbness went away but left something...lacking behind it. What could she do if something was missing?

What had happened to her? She wasn’t given time to search her memory before the footsteps came back followed by more than one set. For the next few minutes there was nothing but frantic activity around her. Too many voices, too many questions, too much to try to process. She squeezed her eyes shut and tired to block out the sound as her head began to throb. She just needed a moment to think about what happened. How did she get here? What time was it?

“Mrs. Midoriya?” This was a new voice. Male and tentative. The speaker leaned into view and judging from the lab coat, he was the doctor. A man with an obvious quirk, his ears were the shape of a stethoscope and his salt and pepper hair was combed over in just the right way to barely hint at a bald spot.

He also had what Inko had to assume was supposed to be a comforting smile on his lips. It wasn’t comforting at all and didn’t help the worry building in her stomach. “Ah, Mrs. Midoriya. Good. Good. I apologize for the disturbance but we are glad to see you’re awake.” He pulled a clipboard from under his arm. “I understand you probably have questions but first, can you speak?”

She tired to say ‘Yes’ but instead of words, a dry croak left her throat.

Luckily, that was all it took to communicate to the doctor that she couldn’t. “Okay, here’s what I’d like for you to do, Ma’am. I will ask you some simple Yes or No questions. Just blink once for Yes, Twice for No. Can you do that for me?”

She blinked.

“Good.” The Doctor said, writing something down on his clipboard. “My name is Dr. Shirokuro and you are in Musutafu General Hospital. Do you understand?”

Blink.

Another mark. “Can you move?”

Two blinks.

“Is it because of the pain?”

Blink.

“Do you know what happened to you?”

Inko was about to blink twice, she hadn’t had time to mull over the blank spot in her memory, when the blank filled in. The store, the attack, the pain, IZUKU!!!

She sat straight up and the room began to tilt in response. Her vision flashed white as the pain savagely reminded her of its existence Her skin burned as every muscle and fiber and joint screamed protests but she grit her teeth and bore it.

Dr. Shirokuro jumped slightly, mouth dropping open. “Uh, Miss- Ma’am! You must lay back down! Your back-”

His frantic face paled as she snatched off the oxygen mask and spoke, her voice barely recognizable as her own. Her tongue felt like lead, thick and heavy but she forced her words out.“Wuh...Where i-is muh...my son?”

“Ma’am, you need to-ulp!” His words were ended with a yelp and splutter as Inko reached out and snatched the man by the collar and with strength that surprised both of them, she dragged him towards her until he was bent at the hips over the rail on the hospital bed and looked him dead in the eyes. He needed to understand that her bed could be about to fall of the edge of a cliff right now and it wouldn't matter if she fell or not until she got her answer  “Whe-re is meh...my son?”

There must have been something in her eyes because Shirokuro, rallied his mouth. "Your son is-"

Inko, so focused on listening, she didn't hear the short commotion in the hall but the doctor did and glanced to it. A flash emotion washed over the woman. She was so close, not even a full sentence away but this...this idiot couldn't even complete the sentence without getting distracted. Even with her so close that she was right in his face? Demanding it?!

The bundle of feelings in her mind uncoiled into...something she didn't recognize and even as frantic as she was she didn't like. Yet, they came upon her in that moment like a tidal wave and washed away at her hesitation. Hands trembling against the collar, she settled into the foreign yet somehow familiar thoughts as if she'd suddenly gained a new perspective on some idea she'd known all her life. This man wasn't taking her seriously. When someone demanded an answer, did anyone with the slightest bit of respect for the one asking answer the question halfway? No. She just needed to-

“Mommy!” The door slammed open and in that moment, not only did those thoughts flee but she let go of the man's collar.

Izuku, small hospital gown fluttering, sprinted in so quickly, she barely had time to react as he clambered up onto the bed and threw his little arms around her. The blooming pain in her back from the jostling had nothing to do with the tears building in her eyes as she hugged her son back. Her little boy was alright! She couldn’t help but see the red zigzag-ing lines on his left hand going halfway up his bare arm but he was up and talking and ALIVE.

Her little boy was alright. Inko couldn't stop the tears spilling down her face not that she would've tried. Her eyes burned, her body ached in ways that warned her to stop what she was doing but she ignored the way her muscles twinged and pulled her son closer into a hug.

He pulled back from her with tears running down his round face and soaking into his own hospital gown. Her little boy was alright. That was good...great...yes. Now that the fear was gone, things were becoming just a little fuzzy. The bed began slowly turning under her. She tried to tell whoever was pushing the bed to stop but her mouth suddenly wasn’t working at all.

“T-they told me you weren’t waking up and-and-and...” Inko wasn't quite able to read his expression as he looked up at her but that didn’t matter. “M-Mom-my?” Her little boy was alright. He was walking and talking so that meant...

“Mrs. Midoriya?”

Her...her...little...

“Mommy?!”

...boy...was...

“Nurse! Get him ou… f here-”

“MOMM-”

Alright...

XXX

"MOMMY!! MOMMY!"

Izuku's wails tore at Mitsuki’s heart. The boy was wailing, inconsolable as a her and a nurse had to pull him from Inko's arms. What made it even worse was the woman, her friend, was slumping over so slowly. Her face which had been so sharp and then so happy to see her son, was going slack as if deflating. The doctor with the help of a few other nurses he was calling in rushed to her side and helped lay her down and my god, Mitsuki had never seen Inko look so small. So fragile. All the while, Izuku hadn't stopped crying, struggling and pulling with all his might against them to get to his mother. To her and probably the nurse's shock, he was actually gaining a little ground, little bare feet somehow gaining traction on a tile floor with two full grown women holding each arm. Had he always been his strong?

It was Masaru who'd been the deciding factor though. He swept Izuku up into his arms and carried him out. The boy's cries reached a new pitch of desperation Mituski knew in her soul no child should ever make. It took the work of two other nurses, her husband, and her to get him back to his room in the pediatric ward. Somehow, Izuku had managed to not only get out of his room but find his way to Inko's room near the ICU, another surprise to her since she'd never have found her way to his without the staff guiding the way.

Luckily, and Mitsuki felt a pang of self-loathing at the thought, Inko's boy had cried himself out. She sat with her husband on a pair of overstuffed yet somehow still very uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room that was near between both rooms. Masaru had his head in his hands, glasses pinched in his fingers and she was near to tears. This couldn't have happened to two people who deserved it less. There were no updates about Inko and a horrible thought came to her, one that brought back another bit of loathing for even considering it and a pang of sadness so great that she caught herself clutching at her chest. Would she make it? People had survived worse, she knew of many stories of people surviving falls from high places, bullet wounds through the head, or any number of things. What those stories rarely covered though was the life of the victim after. If Inko did pull through, would she even be able to live normally?

"It's been two days."

That comment put the brakes on her grim thoughts. Mitsuki looked at her husband who was still bent into his palms as if it was some kind of prayer.

It had been two days since the attack. The first she'd been made aware of it was on the TV that day, a day which had turned surreal as a call from the hospital informed her that her Best Friend and her son were in Urgent care, the former in critical condition. They'd come as soon as they could but were directed away when they first arrived, and now this afternoon with it's roller coaster of events happened. Now here was her husband stating the time that had passed as if she hadn't been here for it. She was about to say so when he raised himself up from his hands, a coolness in his eyes she'd never seen before. It wasn't for her, not even when he turned to meet her eyes. No, her husband was clearly angry...but not at her.

His next words had made it clear just who he was angry at though. "So where the hell is he?"

It was said like the curse it was and Masaru’s out of character near swear had the effect of stirring a little heat in her chest. If she were honest with herself, it had been a thought she’d been avoiding.

The ‘He’ was Inko’s husband. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, it wasn’t where he should’ve been doing what he needed to be doing like being here for his family. Mitsuki didn’t know what Inko’s husband did for a living. ‘Working abroad’ was all that Inko had ever disclosed and she’d never pressed the woman for more details. It was clear that the man was providing for his family at a great sacrifice. Until today, she’d actually admired the man for his dedication. To be so far away, all to be a good man of the house.

Now, however she was wishing she’d had. It had better be something damn important because this situation was inexcusable.

There was no way the man was unaware, between everyone who had his contact information which included calls from the police and the hospital. She had no doubt that calls had been made to the company he worked for too. The only fucking way anyone could do any better in getting the man’s attention was to carve a message into the goddamn moon.

And at this point, she was starting to doubt if that would even get his ass in gear. If it were her and she ever got a phone call like the one she’d made to his phone, her ass would be in a plane seat so fast it the friction would light it on fire.

His absence was now was like salt in the wound. “I don’t know.” If Inko recovered, Mitsuki wasn’t even sure if she should tell her or let her figure it out by herself. No, she’d tell her. A realization like that shouldn’t be suffered without friends around. And Izuku...Oh, god. How would Inko even begin to explain that to him? She imagined trying to even broach the subject with Bakugo and she had to physically shake the idea off, it was so depressing.

If she didn’t make it though...

That thought lingered with her even as visiting hours closed out and the two of them were courteously shown the way out.

It must’ve followed Masaru as well because when they picked up their son from daycare, he gave an extra long, extra big hug and then on the way home, between the two of them picking their words carefully, they began to explain where they had been going for the last two days and why when he saw  Izuku he’d have to be extra nice since he’s had a hard time.

Either way this went...they’d at least be there for the Midoriya family, no matter if only one member walked out of that hospital.

XXX

There was no gentle floating this time. There was only the sensation of falling, a void of black speeding past her as she tumbled through an empty nothing. The only way she was even able to recognize that she moving was the streaks of white lines that passed before her eyes in chaotic swirling curves. She flailed her arms wildly in a vain hope to catch herself. Nothing happened as she tried to call for help. Her voice was silent even though she knew she should've been screaming at the top of her voice. Then...the white lines began to shrink, resolving into dots and the sinking sensation of plummeting stopped.

However, the decelerating descent became a peripheral concern when the realization hit her that the dots surrounding her were stars.

But that was insignificant compared to the massive orb that loomed above her. Even as she looked at it, she knew that it was a planet but it was unlike any she'd ever seen in a textbook. It was so crimson that if it hadn't been for the streaks of yellow that she could only guess were clouds or land or something, it would look more like a giant ball of blood hanging in the void of space.

That's where she was, it had to be.

She felt the heat before she saw the flash, it was as if someone had shined a light directly into her eyes while walking into an oven. What had just happened...what-

CHU~

There was no slow pull out of the light closing in around her, just a snap to alertness as the pain and wooziness broke away like a hangnail. She straightened, half-sitting up and was just recognizing the sensation against her cheek as lips, which pulled away as she flinched awake.

“Looks like I got here none to late, dear. Looked like you were having a nightmare.”

Still trying to adjust to the sudden explosion of clarity, Inko slowly looked to the voice next to her hospital bed. “Huh?” The question tumbled from her mouth as she registered who it was. She knew this hero, a name big enough that even she knew her name

The elderly woman looked down at her through a visor attached to a pink helmet, a white lab coat open to slightly show a more colorful outfit underneath.

Recovery Girl.

“Good morning.” The woman greeted kindly. “A little confusion is expected after what you’ve gone through, dear.” She began, leaning her slight weight into her syringe-shaped cane. “Sorry for being late.”

“Sorry?” While she was now alert, her brain was still trying hard to catch up with her mouth.

“I should’ve been here yesterday but things have been hectic for the last week.”

"Yesterday?" If Recovery Girl was irritated by her echoing, she didn't show it. In fact, she gave her a gentle smile. "Don't worry about that. I'm here now and I suspect you're quite thirsty." The woman nodded, only now noticing that her tongue was dryer than she’d ever remembered and a the small pressure in the small of her back.

The hero moved to the side table next to the bed and picked up a cup. Coming back to over to her, she hesitated for a moment. "I must ask this so please don't take offence but do you need help to drink?" Inko shook her head, gingerly reaching out for the cup, taking it from the woman's hands and being care not to spill it as she sipped. The water was lukewarm, she noted but to her parched throat it might as well have been the spring runoff from the snow melt it was so refreshing.

The hero's smile brightened, as Inko set the now empty cup down. “Good. You’re able to hold down water.” She took a seat on the doctor's stool nearby, all good cheer and almost motherly presence. "So first things first? Any lingering pain?"

With her tongue moistened and brain finally catching up, Inko took a moment to check herself. She moved robotically, first flexing one hand then another, and then moved her arms. It was when she began moving her left shoulder that a sting shot across it and, as if the nerves were following a road-map, ran a path down her back to her left hip and ending at the meat of her left thigh.

Her wince must of shown because she got another nod from the hero but her smile was less cheerful. "Well, that is good. Pain is a good sign." Standing up, she went over to the foot of the bed and picked up a clipboard. "Dr. Shirokuro, who I should mention I'm very annoyed with that he started questioning you when you were in such a state, informed that you remembered what happened. Do you still remember?"

She did. It wasn't hard. "There was a robbery. The details are a bit fuzzy though."

"Take you time, dear." Recovery Girl soothed, flipping a few pages. "I'm not here to take a statement, that is a job for the police. I just want to make sure that you can recall." Her lips pressed into a line which tightened the wrinkles on her face as she stared on what was on the page. It was enough to make Inko nervous. "The reason why the pain is good is because you and your son were on the receiving end of a massive electrical attack. I checked in on him first and neither of you haven’t suffered any nerve damage which is a good sign for injuries like these.”

As she said this, she flipped the clipboard around so that what had removed the smiled from her face could been seen. Inko's jaw dropped.

It was a set of two pictures. One of what she knew was her back and another of her thigh. The angry crimson scar on it stood out, an angry inflamed red. Like a bolt of lighting mixed with frost, it started as a central splash right at the top of her shoulder that spread in cracks and branches some of which ended in red tendrils so thin that the could’ve been drawn with a pen. It curved along her hip and to her side which ended at her thigh. The picture of her back didn’t have a good angle on it but the other one did. The jagged shape was stamped there, tiny cuts and scrapes having opened up tiny wounds. It took her awhile to find her words and when they came she couldn't hide the waver in her voice. "How did that happen?"

"I won't mince words. Your cell phone saved you life." She began, lowering the pictures to the sheets. "The shock was dispersed and your cellphone took the brunt of it. It exploded which is why you have cuts on your thigh. By all accounts, if you hadn't had it, all that charge would've passed through you heart or some other major organ."

Inko glanced at the pictures again, not liking the idea of some as simple as a cellphone having been the only thing that kept her alive. A shiver ran up her back. Nope, she didn't like that idea at all. She continued to look and something caught her eye about the photo.

"Unfortunately, I can't help with wounds that are deep, Mrs. Midoriya. Some I can completely heal but even so there are remnants of it left." The hero continued speaking and Inko was listening but...she picked up the picture of her back and peered hard at it.

Something was on her, a brown strip lay flat across her right hip, in her initial shock she'd passed it off as a piece of cloth but it just didn't look right.

"...seems like you can handle some visitors." The hero's voice came back into focus and Inko twitched in surprise. Looking up, she saw the woman had the smile again. "Someone has been quite frantic to see you."

Recovery Girl made her way over to the door and opened it just enough to stick her head out. “You can come in now.”

She stepped aside and Izuku shuffled quietly in with a nurse in tow, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him. His green eyes looked to her the to Recovery Girl as if asking for permission, his hands working at each other.  The hero gave him an encouraging nod and Izuku inched closer, clearly afraid of doing something wrong.

Inko helped her son up as he got to the bed and held him in her arms. This time there were no words from him, she could feel his little body trembling against her, hear the muffled sobs, she could feel the same pain.

“I’m awake now, “ She soothed, patting his head. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

#dbz #bnha #Inko Midoriya #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #flipwrites #CrossOver #fan fiction #fanfic

[fridge-reviews]

Doom (2016)

Developer: id Software Publisher: Bethesda Softworks Rrp: £14.99 (Steam, Humblebundle and Bethesda Store) Released: 13th May 2016 Available on: Steam, Humblebundle and Bethesda Store Played Using: Mouse and Keyboard Approximate game length: 10 Hours Click-click, turn the corner. BOOM! One less possessed with a head. An imp crawls over the railing in front hissing a screaming in rage. Run forward, pull out the chainsaw, now its a different kind of screaming. The carcass drops, more possessed, feel the weight of the grenade, back pedal slightly and throw. BOOM! No more possessed, just red paste. I think it's safe to call the Doom series video game royalty at this point. The original Doom kickstarted an entire genre and was so recognised that for a quite a while of time any game that was a first person shooter around that time (and for quite a significant amount of time after) was dubbed a 'Doom Clone'. There aren't many games that have such a claim, the closest in recent memory being the term 'souls-like' or 'soulsbourne'. If somehow you've not heard of Doom... well I don't know what to say, that has to be a very heavy and big rock you've been living under for over the last twenty years. Congratulations on finally getting out. Anyway, Doom is a first person shooter in which you play as The Doomguy or The Doomslayer, whichever floats your boat really. This review is of the most recent entry of the franchise (at the time of writing as I am aware there is another one in development).

This being a Doom game there is one thing we can all expect, demon killing, lots and lots of demon killing and it has to be said that on that front this game doesn't disappoint. In fact it launches you right into the fray from the very first moments of the game. There's none of travelling through hallways being given exposition by a character, nope. The first thing that happens is that get a gun and kill a few demons. Within a few moments of that comes the iconic armor of the Doomguy and it only gets more and more badass from there. The Doomguy is the antithesis of most silent protagonists. Unlike the likes of Gordon Freeman the Doomguy isn't just going to take orders from others. He shows disdain and barely contained rage through smashing and throwing any devices that they try to speak to him through. There's even a point where as you're being told to be careful with a piece of equipment and the long procedure for deactivating it that the Doomguy just kicks it repeatedly until its broken. Way to take the direct approach Doomguy!

Can't talk about Doom without speaking about the combat. Well.. it's fast and brutal, this intense action in no small way by the glory kill system. Glory kills are the new mechanic that has been introduced into the Doom franchise but its one that suits it so well that I can't imagine not having it now. When a demon takes enough damage they will begin to flash in blue and yellow signifying that the demon is stunned which is when a glory kill becomes viable. Once you perform a glory kill the demon gets... torn asunder and will drop health and ammo. There are quite a few glory kill animations each dependent on the demon and your positioning. This mechanic encourages the player to play aggressively which is in keeping with the Doomguy is portrayed and keeps the game running at a steady pace. Every weapon has a real feeling of weight to it. Everything from the sound of the weapon going off,  to the little details of the gun and the way the Doomguy holds it tells you that Doomguy is here to kill any demon that gets in his way, and even a few that don't. And just in case the weapons didn't feel meaty enough the majority of them can be modified so that they can suit your play style and situation.

Each enemy you kill, weapon you pick up and item you find comes with a codex entry. Of course, this is Doom, who the hell reads those? But, if you are the strange sort of person who reads the books in Skyrim, then you may find these entries quite interesting... like I did. Like with many games there are some RPG elements included in Doom however unlike most games that include these elements making use of most of the RPG style systems requires you to do some exploration. Within the various levels are several collectibles all of which (bar the Doomguy figures) directly add toward increasing some element of your character. However it's not just the Doomguy that can get upgraded, so can your weapons. Most weapons have two modifications that can be applied to change the way you make use of it. However you can improve the mods by spending points to unlock specific improvements. Once you have all those there's still one last thing you can do, you can attempt the weapon mastery challenge. If you succeed in the challenge the weapon will be give a powerful improvement to itself in certain situations.

The music is by Mick Gordon who felt he couldn't improve on the original Doom's soundtrack but he could update it. He was wrong, he massively improved on it as it dynamically reacts to the action on screen and will grow more intense as the action heats up. As classic as the original Doom's music is it just doesn't hold a candle to what Mick Gordon has achieved and that's without going into what happens when you run the music through a spectrogram. Speaking of easter eggs this game is chock full of them, with every level having a hidden 'classic map' area. The great thing is if you find and access these areas you can play through the complete level through the main menu. I found a lot of these secrets by paying very careful attention to the map and I never thought I'd say this about any FPS, especially Doom, but the map system has to be the most comprehensive, easy to understand and above all easy to use I've ever had the pleasure to witness.

If you completed the game but feel like you didn't find all the secrets or want to finish the challenges you can choose to replay any mission you've completed. The difference being that you get to keep all the upgrades and weaponry you had available to you at the end of the game. My thoughts? This game is amazing, worth every penny of what I paid. Fast, frantic and engaging this game a horrific gorefest and I'm so glad I got to be a part of it. If this appeals to you perhaps try; Wolfenstein: The New Order Painkiller Prey

#Doom #Doom 2016 #Doomguy #Doomslayer #bethesda softworks #bethesda #id software #game review #game reviews #games review #games reviews #video games #video game #video gaming #fps #first person shooter #violent #demonic imagery #hell #demons #cyberdemon

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “Switch” Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Caitlin Snow/Harrison Wells|Eobard Thawne (ReverseSnow), The Flash Summary: Getting swapped into Harrison Wells’ body is an eye-opening experience for Caitlin. In more ways than one. For Snowells Week 2019, Day 3, prompt: Body-Swap Rating:  PG Length:   1,404 Spoilers/warnings: None Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! ;) A/N: Body-swapping is one of my favorite tropes, so I could probably have fun writing a full-length ReverseSnow novel on it, lol! But, in lieu of that, here's a shorter little bit set in season 1. ;) If you read, I hope you enjoy! :D ♥

"I'm not sure," Cisco mused speculatively as he and Caitlin entered the Cortex. "'Mixer-Switcher' just doesn't feel like my best effort when it comes to metahuman names. Sounds too much like I'm calling him a DJ. Or, I dunno, saying he's not sure if he's a top or bottom. It just doesn't have that spot-on-but-still-family-friendly feel I try for."

"I'm sure you'll think of something--" Caitlin was saying as Dr. Wells turned from his computer, eyes widening.

"Look out!" he called and she spun in time to see the man in the half-black, half-white outfit pop through the doorway behind them.

"Maybe I'm a DJ who's really into BDSM," he said snidely, his gauntlets glowing as he took aim. As he fired, Barry sped in and tackled him.

The glancing edge of the blast sent Caitlin flying backwards, crashing next to Dr. Wells' wheelchair.

"Cait, you okay?" Cisco's voice sounded momentarily like it was distorted underwater.

"Dr. Snow?"

Dr. Wells rolled forward enough to get a hand around her upper arm, helping her to her feet with surprising strength.

"I'm okay," she told them both, attempting a reassuring smile. A tremor in her knees made her almost collapse. Embarrassingly, she nearly sat in his lap before managing to change trajectories to fall heavily in her chair.

"You don't look okay," Dr. Wells chided, wheeling over and tilting her head towards the light before running his hand over her skull. "Did you hit your head? Lose consciousness, even for a second?"

His touch was gentle and professional but still she blushed, having to fight the urge to lean into him. "Um, yes. I mean, no. I'm fine, I didn't hit my head or black out."

Up close, his blue eyes seemed especially piercing behind his glasses and it felt like he could see right through her. To deflect, she went on, "So, do we even have a lock on the door? How do these guys keep just walking in?"

***

A couple hours later, with Mixer-Switcher -- Cisco was right, the name could definitely use some work --  firmly ensconced in the Pipeline, Caitlin sighed as she turned her bathtub's faucets. She stripped and hung up her clothes, returning to add her favorite bath bomb. While waiting for the tub to fill, she noticed a faint bruise on the top of her shoulder. Twisting and turning, she checked herself in the mirror for any other injuries from her erstwhile tangle with the meta. She suddenly thought of Dr. Wells running his hand through her hair and her expression went a bit dreamy.

No, she thought sternly, jabbing a finger at her reflection. Harrison Wells is your boss, he's your friend, and he's not going to be the subject of some schoolgirl crush! You get these thoughts out of your head right now or--

She crashed to the ground in a suddenly much dimmer environment, hearing a glass shatter. The sharp scent of whiskey hit her nose.

For a moment, she just blinked, trying to get her bearings. Her surroundings were sparse, elegant and unfamiliar. The way she'd sprawled forward was uncomfortable so she awkwardly rolled over, gawking at the long legs stretching out before her, wearing black, well-tailored pants which were currently twisted.

"Mixer-switcher," she groaned aloud, then startled.

Oh no, I know that voice, she thought in alarm. Automatically, she looked down, patting the surprisingly firm, sculpted chest beneath the white dress shirt he'd been wearing at work today. Then she felt the angles and plains of the face she'd covertly admired for so long up to the hair she'd longed to ruffle -- wait, where were his glasses? Had they gotten knocked off when he'd fallen? Where was his wheelchair, for that matter?

She squirmed as the uncomfortable sensation threatened to spike into pain in a region she didn't possess in her own body. Plucking at the pants, she tried to... adjust things back into proper alignment from the outside, only to hiss when it got worse.

Well, I can't risk, you know, doing damage, she thought, rationalizing as she fumbled with the button and fly of his pants and reached in to move things about.

She couldn't help it, she looked, needing to visually confirm what his hand was telling her. "Oh my God," she blurted out, his voice shocked.

Her mind idly noted he was a boxer-briefs man. Tardily, she also realized she could feel his hand on his-- Whoa, feeling it a little too much, she thought, yanking away. I thought he didn't have sensation below the waist? Maybe it's just movement that's paralyzed?

His knees bent easily and she was standing before she even articulated the thought.

Harrison Wells wasn't paralyzed.

While she was trying to process that bombshell, the phone jangled loudly. The next thing she knew, she'd crashed into the wall at the end of the long room hard enough to leave a small crater where his shoulder hit.

The impact also made her aware of something hard in his pocket. She pulled out a heavy gold ring with the Flash's symbol. No, it wasn't the Flash's.

The reverse, she thought numbly. She put it on, it fit his finger perfectly. Muscle memory took over, his arm extended, fingers folding into a fist and there was some sort of electric push and--

The yellow suit somehow ejected out of the ring, unfolding as it majestically arced through the air. Then it gave an undignified splat onto the polished floor, skidding to a stop in a puddle of thick fabric.

Through the few seconds of eternity that had completely tipped her world on its head, the phone had continued to ring. Looking down, the number on the Caller ID was quite familiar as she picked up.

"So it seems that Mixer-Switcher's powers can have a delay," her voice said dryly without preamble. "His other body exchanges wore off anywhere from a few hours to a day but I wouldn't think it should take that long in this case since it--"

"What. The. Hell?" His voice thundered quite satisfactorily.

Harrison paused, then took on the reasonable professor tone he'd used often in the past. "I take it you've discovered a few things?"

"Ya think?" she snapped.

"I can explain."

"Explain? You're going to explain this, huh?!?" Oh yeah, it felt good to yell in his voice.

"Caitlin, calm down. Let's talk. Stay there and I'll--"

She suddenly fell to the floor in her bedroom. "Ouch," she grumbled, using her bed to lever herself to her feet. She was now wearing a mismatched bra and panty set and the bra was apparently fastened wrong.

The distinctive buzz of a speedster phasing through a solid surface was all the warning she had before the man in the yellow suit appeared before her, eyes glowing red. Then he abruptly pulled his mask back and regarded her steadily.

"Why were my pants unzipped?"

"That-- I was... That was totally innocent," she spluttered.

He arched a brow.

"You touched my lingerie," she pointed out, crossing her arms.

"Would you rather I went ahead and bathed you? Or left you naked?"

She gestured defensively, scrambling to regain her righteous anger. "This is all beside the point, Reverse Flash."

"Hm, true," he mused, slowly stepping towards her until she automatically backed up, her legs hitting the bed. She abruptly wondered just how much danger she was in. Strangely, she didn't feel afraid.

"It seems to me we can help each other here," he said softly. "You keep my secrets, I'll keep yours."

"Secrets? I don't have any--"

He bent -- she'd forgotten how tall he was -- and murmured in her ear, "I saw what's in the drawer."

He straightened, eyes deliberately moving to the nightstand beside her bed. The top drawer was, indeed, open a crack.

She gasped, face going flaming hot, and reached over to slam it shut as if that would somehow make a difference. "You... I..."

He gave a surprisingly serene smile, waiting her out.

"Fine," she finally said through gritted teeth.

"Good," he said, nodding cordially. "We'll settle up the details later."

Details? she thought in alarm but before she could ask, he pulled on his mask once more.

"Though tell me," he said, eyes going red and voice distorting, "did you at least like what you saw?"

"Dr. Wells!" she exclaimed in a scandalized tone.

His laughter hung in the air long after he'd sped away.

#the flash #snowellsweek2019 #day 3 #snowells #reversesnow #aislynn's fics