#and his face is not shaped menacingly like it's open and his eyes are too expressive for the unhinged type of character

[hysteria-things]

Can you make a song image with the song older by Isabel LaRosa or even kiss me more with doja and sza?

NEEDY, ARE WE? (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the night started with only kisses, but you’ve never craved something so bad in your life. that something is your best friend chris sturniolo.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY ASF, swearing, begging kink, teasing, making out, oral (male & female receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (SON’T EVEN TRY IT), marking, finger sucking, choking, slight spanking, praising, degradation, stomach bulge, overstimulation, dumbification, cream pie, cockwarming

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,713

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for the 3 AM post… but hello🥰

y/n is a whiny bitch in this LMAO

“what did i say?” chris whispers sternly, smacking your hand away when it reaches down to his pajama pants string for the third time.

another fifteen minutes went by, and your panties are soaked from the orgasm that washed over you not long ago. chris’ dick fucking hurts, but he enjoys seeing this side of you: needy and desperate. “i’m begging you.” you pout. “i need you inside me. please.”

you seriously don’t know what’s gotten into you. you’d never thought of your best friend this way, but tonight feels different. you’re so dick-deprived that you’ve turned into a whiny mess.

he sighs in defeat, untying his pants and pulling them down. your eyes lock in on the boner in his boxers, beaming once his aching cock slaps against his stomach.

licking your lips, you go to hover over his tip, but he beats you to it and instead pushes your head down. you look up at him with sad eyes.

“what?” he questions, even though he knows the problem. he knows you meant inside you the other way, but what’s the fun in not teasing first? “you said you needed me inside you.”

“that’s not what i—” he cuts you off by pushing your head down, gagging when he forces himself down your throat. you hum, bobbing your head while his grip stays in your hair.

he chuckles, using his free hand to move the pieces of hair out of your face so he can see you looking up at him through hooded eyes. “you’re talking too much. if one of them wakes up you’re going to be in big trouble.” he points to his brothers who are still peacefully sleeping on the couch in front of you.

it doesn’t take long for your throat to morph into the shape of his dick. he licks his lips and smiles menacingly, seeing how you suck his cock so casually. your cheeks hollow, causing chris to exhale to not make a loud noise.

your tongue kitty licks his red tip, pre-cum threatening to spill out. starting to suck, your hand pumps up and down his shaft. his eyebrows furrow, mouth hanging open as he watches your every move. the grasp on your head loosens, and before you know it, chris is pulling you up to where you’re hovering over his lap.

taking his thumbs, he spreads your folds to see the glistening silk in the dim light. your arousal coats the inside of your thighs, some of it dripping down your leg. he takes his pointer finger and slowly moves it up your slit. you flinch at the feeling. “what a needy pussy.” he mumbles, his finger easily sliding into your cunt from the wetness.

you barely give him time to add another when you rut your hips repeatedly, fucking yourself on his fingers. you’ve never felt so pathetic in your life, but you also never felt so turned on. it’s like he read your mind. “pathetic slut; becoming stupid on just my fingers.”

the degrading nickname has you whining, only to start humping his hand faster. he looks as you sink perfectly on his digits… in and out, in and out, your pussy stretching the more you move until—

he removes the two fingers, now soaked with your juices. chris grabs your thighs, sliding his body down so now that his mouth is directly under your cunt. his dick twitches as he groans, seeing it at this angle.

immediately, he sits you down on his face and starts to eat you out like he’s on a time limit, which he technically is. the way his tongue moves so deliciously has you seeing stars, gasping and tugging at the brown strands that lay on his head.

“no, please.” you cry quietly. yes, you love the pleasure your body is going through, but this isn’t what you want. he’s teasing you to tears, and it’s making you sexually frustrated. nonetheless, it only makes you want him more. “th-this isn’t what i want.”

chris hums, making a tiny moan slip from the vibration. his hand gently smacks the outside of your thigh to remind you to keep quiet. “i’m sorry.” you mumble, shutting your eyes tight and biting down hard on your bottom lip that you won’t be surprised if it draws blood.

again a moan falls from your mouth, but this time it’s louder than before. his palm hits you harder this time, and you take your hand to cover your mouth instead. each time you twitch or try to move away from being so overstimulated, his nose still manages to nudge at just the right spot on your clit.

not only are your shoulders shaking from your sobs, but your legs quiver when you feel the heat in your lower belly. mumbling out a few words, chris lets out a questionable hum while speeding up his movements. he wants you to be loud and clear.

“i’m gonna cum, chris.” you cry, thanking every god out there that his brothers are the heaviest sleepers on earth.

he flattens his tongue, smiling in the process while your legs squeeze around his head, cum dripping down onto his tastebuds. a grunt leaves his throat, your pussy tasting exactly the way it’s supposed to. it’s by far the best meal he’s ever eaten.

sitting up again, you guys are back at the position you were at when this all started. chris enjoys the teasing, but he doesn’t know how much longer he can take. dick hard to the point where it hurts; pre-cum starting to leak from the tip. it’s unbearable.

eyes scanning his face, you bite your lip seductively. some strands stick to his forehead from the sweat, mouth is puffy and wet from your cum. how can you possibly be more horny? you have no idea.

leaning in, he pulls away when you’re centimeters apart. you pout, repeating the action when this time he turns his head with a chuckle. “stop teasing me.” you punch his chest lightly out of brattiness. “i need to get fucked by your cock. please, chris.”

raising his eyebrows, he smirks before grabbing your thighs that are still shaking from your high. “see? that wasn’t hard, now, was it?”

he helps you lift yourself to hover over his tip, his grip releasing from your flesh but still grazing it while you slowly start to sink onto his dick. your back arches, eyelids fluttering as you feel every crevice stretch from his size. it’s like your entire body was made for chris and chris only.

“—fucking birds stealing my shit.” the end of the sentence is a grumble, rustling coming from across the room. chris jumps into action and covers where you two are conjoined with your nightgown, being that you still have it on.

still, you decide to roll your hips, feeling his cock rubbing at your walls and insides just right. to keep a moan from coming, you nuzzle your head into his neck and bite at it.

nick sits up, eyes still closed but looking over nonetheless. “fucking birds.” he repeats.

“tell those birds, nick.” chris says, the hickey forming on his neck while you nibble down on another empty spot.

nick nods. “i’ll tell them. yeah, i’ll tell them. i’ll tell them…” then, he lays back down, the soft snores continuing as if he didn’t wake up at all.

you lift your head, chris now face to face with your tear-stained one. “wanna kiss you.” you whisper, starting to plop up and down on him. he doesn’t say anything, only grabs your throat gently to pull you in. from the way your tongues intertwine, you can taste yourself.

at this point, your bouncing so fast that whenever the couch starts to creak he has to grip on your ass for you to slow down. you whimper softly. “feels so good!”

“shit.” he exhales, mouth agape as he watches the bulge in your lower abdomen peek out whenever you sit, your pussy swallowing his fat cock whole. you were, without a doubt, fucking made for him.

accidentally letting out a scream when your g-spot gets hit, it’s cut off by the hand squeezing tighter around your throat. he glances at his brothers to make sure there are no signs of movement before speaking. “don’t have them wake up or we’re going to be in deep shit, and i won’t be able to fuck you again. is that what you want?”

“no!” you choke out, his thumb grazing your bottom lip while he looks at it.

“then you have to be quiet.”

without thinking, you nod and open your mouth, inviting his thumb inside for you to suck on. he smirks with a whisper. “that’s my good girl.”

he removes his thumb from your mouth, now holding your jaw in place. hickeys decorate one side of his neck.

you don’t know how long you’ve been going at it, but you can’t take it anymore. your breathing is becoming heavier the more his dick hits that angle inside you, eyes rolling back having your vision almost fade to black.

clenching so tight to the point where you could barely move up on him, your nth orgasm of the night washes over you, dripping down his thighs and onto the sofa. alas, you don’t make a peep, because you're chris’s good girl. you will always listen to him.

to ride out your high, you still move when you talk into his ear. “cum in me, please.” you gasp, your brain officially shutting off. your face portrays different waves of pleasure all at once, drool dribbling from your chin. you didn’t even notice releasing a-fucking-gain.

ropes of cum shoot up into you with a thrust of his hips, grunting each time he does so. he throws his head back with his eyes slammed shut, waiting ten seconds until he’s done planting his seed into your womb.

“thank you… thank you…” you repeat. he grabs your hips to lift you, but you whimper and nuzzle yourself closer.

exhausted is an understatement, hence why you fell asleep in mere seconds with his cock deep within your cunt. all chris can doze off to is think about how he has to clean this up before morning.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @tylerthecreatorsbf @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel @mattsgirlfrieeend @bambi-slxt @selenascorner @sturnstvr @sturnclouds

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki + lava Quirk!wife (both Pro Heroes)

☆—a.n; i woke up today feeling feisty lol not really xd just wanted some "i'm crazy as you are" type of love today lmao✌🏼🖤

Bakugou Katsuki is obsessed with you.

And he doesn't even try to hide it.

You're his sidekick. You had trained in his Agency since you were a mere brat doing your internship your first year at UA. Of course, there were literally counted the times you had encountered him in person. The other Heroes that joined his Agency were the ones in charge of the kids. They had told you how Dynamight hated when babysitting time came every year, he wouldn't even participate in those actually. So they would advice to not cross his path.

From time to time, Dynamight would watch their sparrings sessions, gave them a bit of advice–more like mean criticism yell at them. But he had better things to do, people to save, villains to get their asses destroyed by him. He was not going to waste his time with annoying brats like you.

He had heard of you, of course. The one brat that could control and handle freaking lava like it was fucking nothing. Of course when he saw you, he thought his sidekick had pulled a prank on him, joking to see if would be excited about the idea of having someone with that type of Quirk in his Agency. You couldn't be the one with the lava quirk. You looked... normal. Quirkless even–if this were other times and if he would judge people about it. He had changed, okay? Thank you very fucking much. But he did think it was impossible that you were that amazing brat the other heroes were talking about. They had even compared you to him, in witty and determination to become the number one Pro Hero on the ranks, in strength and no mercy against villains, or other heroes and classmates.

When he stood right in front of you one day, towering almost three heads over you and almost one more person's size to the side, Dynamight laughed. You looked like a little bunny caught red-handed, terrified by everyone around you–especially by the size of him–and skittish, almost like what Deku had been as a kid.

That should have been a first warning for Bakugou–never judge a book by its cover.

You have trained in his Agency the three years you had been in UA, and he has never once seen you nor your Quirk on display, nevertheless in real action. He had only heard how good you were in trainings from the other heroes. But he didn't care enough to actually sought-after. He was already fighting Deku for the number one spot on the rankings, he didn't have time for brats like you.

Until one day, a dangerous villain, that created enormous monsters of metal almost to the size of a ten flour building, was causing too much disaster appeared. It was more than chaos, it had been a destruction like no other.

Dynamight nor Deku could contain the motherfucker.

He was bruised, his hands beat with agony at the amount of times he had used his blasts and the push to keep going, his body muscles were screaming for him to stop. A quick glance to his side where Deku was, and the guy wasn't better than him, breathing like his lungs couldn’t no more. Every other hero in the scene was in the same shape.

They were fucking losing.

And then, like an angel sent from heaven–or better said, a demon sent from the deepest hell for the way you fucking looked, you appeared in all your majestic glory, lava making you slide in between them, surrounding you like it was nothing, like strings coming from inside your body, and began a new fight with that fucking villain's monsters.

Bakugou saw –an enamored expression on his face– how you your whole demeanor changed, your skin, your eyes, everything in you became so menacingly, so evil looking, so freaking scary, that if you weren't training to be a Hero, he thought you would be one the most terrifying villains of all times –even more than that piece of shit AFO.

The lava was visible in all your body, and you fought, a crazed smile and eyes opened wide, enjoying the damage you were doing to the metal monsters; your joy was shining bright for everyone to see, as you yelled, "DIE, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!" as the monster melted under your hands and body.

He was captivated, fucking spellbound, by the sight in front of him. He fell to his knees, watching you melt every single one of the monster in one more movement of your hand, as lava flowed towards them, capturing and melting them as you stand straight, the expression on your face serious and deadly. You then walked towards the source, the main villain who was creating this chaos, and the guy literally fell to the floor in fear, trying to crawl away from you in tears. When you stood before him, you crouched to his level, and smiled devilishly.

The villain pissed his pants.

And Bakugou's cock twitched.

He then murmured, "I'm gonna marry the shit out that woman."

Deku chuckled, shaking his head and letting his body fall to ground in tiredness. Everything was okay now.

From then on, you were by Dynamight's side all the time. The second you graduated –Bakugou Katsuki of fucking course attended the graduation ceremony– he offered a job on his Agency for you. And you said yes, even though you had options like Deku's Agency, or Hawk's, and even Endeavor had offered you a big place on his, trying to win you by saying that most of his sidekicks were fire-like Quirks and that his mother had a Quirk similar to yours, he could ask her for advice for you. Bakugou's stomach turned thinking he might had won you over that. But before he could finish the sentence, "Would you like a spot on my Ag–", you exclaimed a big YES, smiling warmly and eyes shining in excitement.

He had to clear his throat and look away at your expression, making something tingle in his chest. Was that his heart?

You became his partner then, in missions, in interviews, in meetings with other Agencies when some big villain appeared and they had to join forces. You were always there, not behind him but next to him.

In interviews he would always let you speak about how everything went and thank every body who helped. But Katsuki would look at you. Look as the lava started to dissipate from your skin, slowly turning down the temperature and going back to your normal color. Your hair that became liquid lava slowly became the color of greyish-black rock and then smoothed its way to your normal texture and color. He always felt mesmerized watching the process, and he would look at it any opportunity he got.

It wasn't until one night out with his old friends that Pikachu said, "Dude, tone down your thirst a lil' bit," in between laughs with Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Kirishima patted his back, shaking his head, "Your sidekick, man. The lava girl?"

"What?"

"What we are trying to say," Mina smirked, "is that everytime you look at her, its almost palpable the way you want to eat her."

Bakugou gulped. "Shut the fuck up. I don't look at her like that."

Mina winked at him, "If you say so..."

That night he searched on the internet in his phone for interviews, desperately. Fuck, his friends were right. He did look at you with a fascination and hunger he had never saw himself do. He remembered thinking about marrying you back in the days, but that had been the heat of the moment, right? This annoyed the shit out of him. But watching you again in those videos, as you smiled so kindly to the reporters or other Hero friends or to even civilians while looking so freaking scary when your Quirk was activated, made something stir inside his belly.

Fuck, you're gorgeous. You're everything he didn't know he wanted.

And that's when he decided he would not hide his feelings for you anymore.

So now, a few years after, when you are married to number two Pro Hero Dynamight, people always talk about how your husband always looks at you. How he always encourages you in your fights to "kill those fucking piece of shits, baby!!" as he is very close to you fighting his own set of shitty villains and you encourage him saying "show them who is the number two hero, love!" He looses it then, a blast that ends it all.

They talk about how he would always kiss you after a fight, even after all that adrenaline that makes him want to bury himself deep inside your warmth, he only holds your face gently, gloved thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly, eyes locked onto each other like the world doesn't exist outside that moment, and he kisses you softly, a simple touch, a cute press of lips that lasts a millisecond so he doesn't burn the skin of his face and lips. And then he pulls one of your hands with his up in victory.

He didn't only win the battles, he won you each and every time he got to simply look at you, be next to you, kiss you.

He is obsessed with you, and he doesn't want to fucking hide it from the world.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Late as fuck Mikasa birthday drabble that I don't love lol ! I always miss my enemies AU, they're honestly hilarious. Mikasa breaking his arm and wanting to sign his cast will never not be iconic to me ! ALSO MIGHT MAKE THEM FIANCE'S, I DID HERE, MIGHT AS WELL RIGHT! “Nice gun.” It sounds like a bad pickup line, a shitty attempt to get into her pants, and well, it totally is, but the guy lingering around her Uncle’s bar also isn’t wrong. “Thanks,” she comments casually, trailing a finger over the condensation on her glass, “It was a gift.” 

At this, the guy snorts, an eyebrow raised almost into his hairline, “Someone got you a baby pink Glock as a gift?” 

Mikasa shrugs innocently, tucking the very poorly concealed weapon further into the waistband of her jeans, she’d just come back from intimidating a rival gang member, okay? She’d needed it, she doesn’t just carry her gun around with her like a monster, it’s not even loaded, it's solely for intimidating purposes. Plus, she looks very pretty waving it around while Connie and Reiner stand menacingly behind her, where’s the fun in being a mob princess if she can’t play a little? But the story of how she got her pink Glock is one that she looks upon perhaps a little too fondly, even more so when she catches Eren’s eye over her would-be suitor’s head, a little smirk on his face that he can’t hide, having heard their whole discussion. 

She doesn’t know if she should be embarrassed that he’s heard, or say fuck it and drag him to the back room all over again like she did when she was gifted the gun in the first place. 

2 Years Ago 

“So you’re not even going to wish me a happy birthday?” Mikasa asks somewhat petulantly, trying not to let the whine creep into her voice, not to show just how perturbed she is that he’s the only one so far who hasn’t wished her a happy birthday. For fuck’s sake, Connie, his number two had sent her a giant stuffed teddy bear, and she can barely get a happy birthday from him, her supposed fiancé? Eren barks out a disbelieving laugh, “Mikasa you broke my arm last month, I just got out of the cast, which, by the way, still fucking hurts–” “You had it coming to you.” “I had to learn how to shoot with my left hand!” 

Mikasa scoffs, “You love being ambidextrous, I haven’t heard you shut up about it since.” “Because it’s fucking cool! But that’s beside the point, we’re in a gang Mikasa, I get shot at semi-regularly, and you didn’t even apologize!” At this, Mikasa shoots him a glare, “I did so.” “When?” Eren snaps and Mikasa studiously looks away, “I helped you out a few times.” 

Eren balks at her, his mouth hanging open, and she thinks rather smugly that for once in his life he actually looks a little stupid, rather than the unfairly good-looking visage she’s used to. 

“You demanded to sign my cast and threatened to break my other arm,” Eren tells her glibly and Mikasa frowns, her brow furrowing up in a way her mother would scold her for, yelling about forehead wrinkles and botox. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Mikasa snarks back, before lowering her voice to a whisper, “I’m talking about after.”

Eren arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow, a wicked smirk crossing his lips, those eyes gleaming in delight as he recalls that particular night, “Oh that.” 

“Yes,” Mikasa hisses, “That.”

That had been Mikasa jerking Eren off in the backroom, out of the goodness of her heart of course, because he might be ambidextrous now, but he hadn’t been then, and well, who was she to refuse him? That would just be cruel, and really why use his non-dominant arm when both of hers were readily available… and her mouth too, that had also been very available to him. 

“Well that,” Eren smiles fondly, his eyes glazing over a bit as he thinks about it, a small affectionate smile gracing his lips, “That was just good business Miki, payback for breaking my arm in the first place.” She smacks his now healed broken arm, vibrating with fury, “That was me helping you out, you asshole!” Eren scoffs, his smile morphing into a pout, “It wasn’t I had to practically beg–” “As you should!” Mikasa huffs and Eren growls in irritation at being interrupted, “Mikasa!” 

“You’re not even going to wish me a happy birthday?” She finishes sadly, a hint of genuine sadness creeping into her tone, she does have feelings, and he is supposed to be her fiancé. "After all i've done for you." Eren groans, “Oh my god.” Mikasa sniffles, just a little, not allowing the tears to fall, her head turned away, she’d always thought they had this very charming back and forth, that when they finally wed it wouldn’t be so bad, that maybe, just maybe they could fall in love and all the sexual chemistry they had would be put to good use. 

Her lower lip quivers just a little and Eren sighs deeply beside her, an arm hooking around her neck and dragging her towards him, “You’re such a fucking brat.” “I am not!” She protests, but she is silenced with a rough kiss to her lips, and as usual, he tastes like good whisky and a hint of mint, familiar. She melts into him, her hands finding the soft strands of hair gathered at the nape of his neck, digging into the silky whisps. Eren grunts as she tries to climb into his lap, because fuck it, this can be her birthday present. But to her dismay, Eren keeps her firmly planted in her spot next to him, his arm weighing heavy around her shoulders and his other hand buried firmly between her thighs, teasing her whilst at the same time keeping her in place. 

She pulls back questioningly, her lips swollen, silver eyes catching on soft reverent green ones, “Eren what are you–” “Happy Birthday,” he mumbles and before Mikasa can say another word he’s pulling a gun from the waist band of his jeans and she’s shocked to see it’s not his own, it’s definitely not his own. It’s bright pink, almost candy coloured, like a barbie and Mikasa gasps as he places it in her lap. It’s slightly bejewelled around the handle, and if it was anyone else, it would be the gaudiest thing she’s ever received, she’d fucking hate it. But Eren knows her far too well, probably better than he should if she’s being honest, and Mikasa squeals as she snatches it from his grasp. It’s impractical and ridiculous, and the silliest things she’s ever received, but she absolutely loves it. What says mob princess more than a pink fucking gun? 

“I love it,” she tells him seriously and Eren lets out an audible exhale, “Good, because that shit was embarrassing to ask about, do you know Jean almost laughed me out of the arms room?” Mikasa laughs in delight, checking him with her shoulder lightly before she cuddles in, enamoured with her gift, fingers trailing excitedly over the Swarovski crystals embedded in the handle, just before the grip so as not to be uncomfortable to hold. “If you lose it you’re not getting another one,” Eren tells her firmly and she leans up in a rush to press a kiss to his cheek in thanks. “Thanks,” she tells him softly, her other hand slipping down to lace their fingers together, she’s not often this affectionate, this loving with her rival turned husband-to-be.

But really, it’s Eren, he deserves a reward for this.

“Happy birthday,” he winks and Mikasa laughs, setting the gun on the table, “You were totally just afraid to give it to me weren’t you, that’s why you haven’t talked to me all day?” Eren scowls, “Why do you have to ruin everything, I was not!” 

“You totally were, I bet you’ve been agonizing over when to give it to me all day.” “I wasn’t,” He insists, and Mikasa cackles deviously, “You so were.” 

“Whatever, we’re even now, Ackerman.” She laughs in delight, pressing another kiss to his cheek, they are so not even, they are never even and that’s just how she likes it. “Don’t make me break your other arm, Yeager.” “At least it won’t be my dick this time, Ackerman.” She presses her lips together to hide her smile, “Now I know you’re not upset about that.” “Still pisses me off that I’m not the first one you broke,” Eren mumbles grumpily, and she buries her face in his shoulder because she can’t wipe the fucking smile off her face, he’d been so damn pouty about that. 

“I can break it again,” she breathes huskily against his neck, and he hums contemplatively. 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

“Back room, ten minutes.”

[dp-marvel94]

An Unconventional Way to Get a Cat- Part 2

Summary: It turns out, Danny's bough of nausea after the portal accident was not just the stomach bug going around school. This must be the most horrifying, disgusting way to find himself a new pet owner.

Part 1 here -> Part 3

Word Count: 1,983

Also on AO3

For @wastefulreverie and @silentambiance

Based on wastefulreverie's prompt: Portal AU. Instead of gaining powers in the accident, the portal is fused inside Danny, making him the gateway between worlds and leaving him with the unfortunate ordeal of vomiting up ghosts. Maybe someone catches him in the act. And Chaotic_french_fries's prompt: danny gets a ghost cat Chapter 2 incoming! The warnings for angst, body horror, and vomiting remain, though enjoy the introduction of more kitty adorableness. Happy reading!

For a long moment, Danny stared at the cat. 

“There’s a cat in the bathroom….” The animal, just as glowing as it had been since it …appeared…., blinked up at him in kind. “A green cat.” Like the ectoplasm, like in his parents’ lab, like in the defunct portal, like…”A ghost. You’re a ghost.”

Said ghost yawned, flashing needle sharp teeth. The inside of its mouth was completely green too.

“A ghost cat… that I threw up.” He shook his head, wide eyes drifting away in disbelief. “This can’t be happening.” It had to be a dream, some kind of sickness induced hallucination. 

Again, he furiously shook his head. Nose wrinkling, he turned back to the toilet. The sour-smelling vomit floated menacingly in the bowl. Eyeing the content suspiciously, he flushed. The disgusting biohazard swirled down the drain and disappeared. 

Danny let out a breath, his stomach churning in an oddly cold dread. Tensing, he turned his head back to the floor and… blinked. The ghost cat was gone.

Shakedly, the boy pulled himself to his feet. He rinsed his mouth out, washed his face, and took a long drink of water. All the while, his eyes flickered, on alert for the bathroom’s other recent resident. But there was no sign. No fluffy tail, no quivering whiskers, no sharp toe beans.  

Maybe it really was a hallucination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny mindlessly scrolled through his phone. He’d gone downstairs, picked at a sandwich, and sipped a cup of water. Now, he was sat on his bed, trying to distract himself. 

His stomach churned, icy unease growing…. No. Nope. He wasn’t going to think about it.

Oh, that’s cool. They were making another Nightmarica Movie. Maybe he could-

He burped and an acidic taste welled in his mouth. “Oh no.” Danny swallowed painfully, sticking out his tongue at the taste.  “Not go-”

A popping noise startled him. “Ah!” 

“Meow!”

The boy’s head jerked to the side. He blinked, then scowled. The cat, the green ghost cat, sat on the floor beside his bed, tail swishing gently. 

“Great.” Danny rolled his eyes. “You ag-”

A gag cut off his words and the boy lunged for the trash can. He scrambled, reaching for the plastic bin and bringing it up to his mouth just in time.

Ectoplasm surged up his throat, thick and slimy as a slug. Something inside squirmed and Danny shivered violently.

He coughed, pounding at his clogged chest. Something wet plotted into the trash can.

Instantly, the nausea ebbed. Danny just sat, panting for a while. His eyes closed, he felt the bed shift with the movement of tiny feet. A fuzzy head brushed his arm. Then the thump of a paw batting at the trash can.

Nose wrinkling, Danny opened his eyes and peered inside. A green blob-shaped mass sat there and the boy let out a breath of relief. At least it was just ectoplasm this time.

Then the ectoplasm blinked. The cat sprang, batting at it. 

Danny blinked, stomach churning with dread, while the ghost cat grabbed the blob in its mouth, darted literally through the trash can, and then under his bed.

“What did Mom and Dad’s portal do to me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually, Danny managed to stir himself out of his existential dread. Still eyeing the trash can suspiciously, he placed it on the ground. There was no sign of the blob now, no stain of green. But it had been there, just like the throw up in the toilet earlier. Just like the cat. Thinking of the cat…

The boy lowered himself to the floor, kneeling to look under the bed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see but…

Rapid movement. The cat laid on its side, the blob held between its paws. The animal flailed wildly, back legs kicking at its prey. Then the ghost cat froze. Eyes wide, ears back, it startled, practically leaping to the other end of the bed, and throwing the blob toward Danny. The blob smacked the boy in the face.

“Ew.” Danny flinched, wiping at the spot. 

Meanwhile the blob let out a sad whoosh, like a balloon deflating. The boy blinked, looking between it and his hand. There… was no residue on his face, none on his hand. It had been cool but… not wet. 

Tentatively, he reached, poking at the green mass. It gave under his finger, the surface solid but the inside malleable. Like a balloon filled with cornstarch slime. 

Danny muttered. “Weird….”

A flicker of movement, something neon green, grabbed his attention. His eyes snapped up meeting… round, green eyes. The ghost cat.

The animal froze, one paw lifted in mid-step. It tentatively lowered the leg and stretched its neck towards him. 

What was it doing?

Ears up and alert, the cat sniffed. Its whiskers quivered, cautiously curious. Slowly, the ear swiveled forward.

Tentatively, Danny put a hand forward. More eagerly, the cat sniffed. Then the furry head bumped his hand. 

“Nice kitty.” The boy grimaced, unsure.

It head-butted his hand again, then looked up, fixing wide begging eyes on him.

“Alright?” Carefully, Danny patted the head. 

A rumble started up and the boy petted the cat, first cautious and slow. “Nice… ghost cat?”

It was just… acting like a normal cat.

Another head-butt to his hand. “Good kitty boy? Girl?” He had no idea…

No answer came, of course. The cat just rubbed against his hand and purred, like any living cat.

Gaining confidence, the boy scratched behind the ears. “Good… Fluffy?.... That’s stupid.”

The purr deepened, rumbling up through his fingers and Danny found himself smiling. “You like that, huh?” He rubbed the back of the head, down the side of the neck. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

A green paw suddenly batted at his hand. “Alright. Alright.” Danny whipped his hand back. “That’s enough for now.” 

The cat stood up, stretching its front paws. It yawned, flashing its teeth. Then its ears twitched. Its head turned, fixed on something Danny couldn’t see. It leapt away and ran, taking a lap around Danny’s room.

The boy just sat there on the floor, perplexed as the cat started attacking one of his dirty socks on the floor. 

“Alright. You’re a ghost but you’re just a normal cat….”

Said animal batted at the dirty fabric, attacking with its teeth. It jerked its head up, nose wrinkled, mouth slightly open and lips curled in, as if in disgust. Then it went back to playing with the sock. 

“How is this my life?”

The cat abandoned the dirty laundry, flopping onto its side. 

“Well… I guess you’re a girl cat.” Danny eyed the visible dark spots running down the cat’s belly; he’d seen similar when Sam’s cat had been nursing her babies. He frowned, a stab of sadness pricking at him. “What happened to you?” A mama cat, without her kittens…

The cat kneaded at the air, paws reaching towards him. Despite his somber thought, the corner of the boy’s lip turned up. “Oh no, I’m not putting my hand down there.” He waggled a finger. “I know that’s a trap, missy.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Danny! Dinner!”

The cat jumped up, form turning misty and then disappearing. Invisible…. That’s how she had appeared out of nowhere before and vanished just as fast. But now… the air in front of him swirled, just the slightest bit different from its surroundings. A cool spot lingered at the edge of his consciousness, a clear sign of the ghost’s presence…

Huh. That was new.

“Danny!” Another knock.

The boy shook his head. He’d have to figure all this out later.

“Coming!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So… Danny had a ghost cat now. 

When he came back from picking at his dinner, the animal was still there. The cat laid on his bed, half curled into a circle and paws folded against her chest. 

“I have to admit that’s cute.” He muttered. 

This past day had been so weird, what with throwing up ghosts…. Danny shivered at the thought… the ghost cat still being there was almost normal.

With a shrug, the boy plopped back into his desk chair. He turned his attention to his computer, determined to not think about ghosts or portals or vomit, and losing himself in video games. 

And yet, the cat’s soft snores echoed softly. A chill lingered in the back of his mind, swirling softly in his lungs. And the nausea….

The cat jolted awake with a loud meow just before Danny’s stomach lurched. He lunged for his trashcan and threw up again. In the can, something chirped and clicked. He peered in, eyes narrowed. Some kind of bird. 

The cat sat up, eyes narrowed into slits and ears twitching. Danny eyed the animal suspiciously, gaze flitting between it and the bird thing. But, before the cat could act, the other ghost flapped panickedly. It half-ran, half flew out of the container and across his room, phasing through the wall. 

The cat turned tail, silently following after and disappearing into the night.

Danny sighed, head in his hands. Three times was a pattern. This was really happening. And… it would keep happening. 

The dread hit him, tears welling in his eyes. What was he going to do?

He sat, legs pulled to his chest. Despair clawed, questions circling. His parents’ invention… the portal did something to him. It must have. But what? How? How was this even possible?

What was he going to do? He… he had to tell someone, right? But… Sam and Tucker were out of town for summer trips. How would he even…. 

“Yeah, Tucker, how’s tech camp? You blowing everyone’s minds? And Sam, how’s your trip? You haven’t killed your parents yet, right? Oh me…” He laughed almost hysterically. “I just walked into my parents’ broken portal, like an idiot. And now…” He giggled. “Now I’m throwing up ghosts. Yeah, yeah. Those ghost’s that Jazz always said didn’t exist.” 

Yeah, that conversation would go so well. Danny rolled his eyes. Jazz would think he was crazy… or having some kind of trauma induced hallucination. And his parents… 

His eyes widened, hope suddenly flickering. His parents… his parents’ work did this to him. If anyone knew what was happening, how to stop it, it would be them. He could tell them and-

The cold in his belly flipped, rushing to his chest. His skin tingled and he fell through his chair. 

The boy landed on the floor with a thud. He stared, eyes wide and terrified. His body shimmered, bluish tinted and immaterial, with the chair sticking through him. He scrambled away, as if burned.

“No. No.” His insides churned, a queasiness that had nothing to do with vomit. 

Cold rushed out and he fought back a scream, his body flickering in and out of visibility like a dying light bulb. Like a…

“No. I’m… I’m not…” The tears let go, turning into quiet sobs. “I’m not a ghost.” 

Except… all that pain, electricity… how could he not be dead? No one could survive that. He… he couldn’t have. He couldn’t.

“I’m… I’m dead.” His chest heaved, paradoxically straining for breath.

He… he was a ghost. That was the only explanation. That… that stupid “portal” killed him. And… now he was like it. An un-living portal, letting ghosts into the world. 

His stomach lurched suddenly and he gagged. Ectoplasm rushed up, dripping down his lips. He spit, mind begging it to stop. Please. No.

“Mrow.”

Paws on his knees. His eyes snapped to round green eyes. The cat stretched his neck forward, rubbing up against his leg. The creature rumbled softly. 

Danny panted, trying to catch his breath. His stomach settled. 

After a long moment, he whipped his mouth. Tear tracks still stained his face. “Thanks… thanks…. I guess I should think of a name for you.” 

The cat just purred, the boy rubbing her head. “Good girl.”

Note: Unsurprisingly, despite planning for 2 chapters, I am still not done. My goal is to wrap this up in to a satisfying conclusion before the month is over and I dive back into my Invisobang story! Wish me luck!

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday part 2: Blackmail Au

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In which Jak has to learn how to properly take care of curly hair

It turned out that the king of the Wastelanders was a little less intimidating when he was arguing with Sig. For all that he retained his commanding presence, with or without his armor, the low stakes of the disagreement seemed to soften him into something more human.

"I'm just going right back to the city again tomorrow!" Sig complained, "I'll do Wash Day when I get back."

"The rot you will," Damas retorted, pointing a comb menacingly at him, "We both know you'd rather shave your head than bother with Wash Day. Just get it over with and you won't have to deal with it for another two weeks."

"Come on, man!"

"You're setting a bad example for Jak," Damas said smugly.

Sig's nostrils flared. "Ohhh you rotsucker. That's not fair."

"I don't have to play fair on Wash Day."

Jak and Daxter watched the back and forth with growing amusement, especially when the indomitable Sig capitulated with some very creative expletives. Why was he making such a big deal out of washing his hair? Daxter washed twice a week if they could get the soap for it. Jak...didn't wash as much, but he tried to at least rinse off the sweat.

"It's just washing hair, how long could it take?" he snorted as Sig dragged out a low stool in front of the sink in the corner.

"An hour at least," Sig grumbled.

"An hour? For hair?" Jak sputtered, "Why would you spend that much time on it?!"

Sig looked at him. Damas looked at him. After a moment, Damas sighed.

"Well, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

Damas reached up and fiddled with the crown piercings, sliding them out of tiny metal ports in his skull with a soft click one by one. He set them on the table and distractedly waved Jak over.

"Hair like ours requires more care than your friend there," he explained. "I somewhat doubt you like running around with your curls all knotted and broken together like that. Hasn't anyone ever showed you how to care for them?"

Daxter scoffed. "Self-care was never high on Samos's priority list of subjects to teach us."

Curious but cautious, Jak edged closer to the table to look at the jars Damas had set out. Oils, creams, some kind of soap. Were Damas and Sig really going to use all of these? He picked one up and examined it closely, smelling coconut.

"That's the last step," Sig said, plucking the jar from his hands unexpectedly.

Jak blinked. Without his hood and armor, Sig looked...weird. His hair was close-cropped, but not shaved; olive green coils somewhat smashed into the shape of his helmet. Daxter snickered from behind him.

"Hat hair!" he whispered.

Sig was not amused. He yanked open the first jar of oil and applied it liberally to his hair. "Just do as I do, cherry. No commentators from the peanut gallery."

Damas followed suit with an impish smile altogether out of place on his stoic face. "This is why I don't do helmets."

"Because your head is too fat for them?"

Damas paused in rubbing the oil into his locs to narrow his eyes at Sig. "I know how to override your door lock, you know."

"Oooh I'm so scared. Whatcha gonna do? Shampoo me to death?" Sig taunted.

"I could do that. Or I could add something to your ammunition pouch."

"Add what?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Add what, Daym?"

"You'll find out."

Jak raised an eyebrow at the two grown men behaving like, well, like him and Daxter. They seemed distracted, and he was curious, so after a moment he gave in and poured a handful of oil into his own hair. Presumably they'd wash it out next.

He was wrong.

Thirty minutes he had to sit with the oil soaking into his hair, bored out of his skull. No wonder Sig hated doing this! He couldn't even leave the room, because he didn't know where to find another sink! Equally bored, Daxter started rifling through Jak's jacket pockets until he came up with the bag of trail rations.

"Wanna play Kill-Grid?" he asked, holding up the bag, "Nuts versus beans?"

"We don't have a grid," Jak pointed out.

Sig leaned forward. "Kill-Grid? What's that?"

Jak shrugged. "It's a game we played a lot back in Sandover. You make a grid of sixteen squares. Twelve pieces on each side, the middle row stays empty."

Daxter opened the bag to see if there were enough nuts and beans to even play as he added, "It's...kinda like checkers. Except the board shrinks if a whole row gets cleared out."

"Yeah! If every piece in one row gets captured, you erase that row and make the grid even smaller. Whoever has the most pieces left when there aren't any more open spaces is the winner."

Just speaking about the game seemed to lift a weight from the boy. Damas saw life returning to his eyes, and he actually sounded like a fifteen year old ought to for a moment. Sorrow clawed at his guts like an animal trapped inside. This was his son, his firstborn, and a complete stranger. A young boy who seemed to only barely remember that he was meant to have a childhood. Who didn't even know basic self-care.

"Time's up," he said, gently interrupting the explanation, "Time to shampoo."

"Finally!" Sig huffed.

The chamber fell silent save for the sounds of water splashing and soap squishing into curls. Jak watched Sig with wide eyes, earnestly mimicking every step as best he could. Cross-legged on the rug, barefoot and barefaced, he looked...he looked like he belonged there. Like he always should have. Damas watched his lost-and-found child's face morph into surprise as he discovered how easily his fingers slipped through the tangles now. It wasn’t so very different from teaching Mar to wash his own hair. Just how neglected had Jak been? Damas couldn’t help wondering if Jak and Mar were on equal footing in their knowledge of how growing up was meant to be. It wasn't right for a boy to be so unused to kindness. It wasn't natural.

"Y'know," Daxter remarked, "I really didn't think your hair was that long?"

Jak shrugged helplessly and fumbled with slippery, wet hair, trying to put yet another round of oil into it. Before, it had brushed against his shoulder blades, bulked out with matts and snarls. Now it hung nearly to his waist, and he was getting tired of it sticking to his fingers.

"Ugh," he groaned after having to return to the oil jar yet again. "Sig, can I borrow your knife? I'm not doin' this."

Damas shot Sig a dirty look as the taller man snickered.

"What, ah, whatcha gonna do with it, cherry?"

Jak raised a brow. "Cut it??"

With some effort, he gathered up the thick hair into one fist and gestured to about three inches. "Look, that's gonna get tangled in my holster. I don't wanna deal with that."

"We have scissors, you know," Damas pointed out.

"Knife's faster."

Damas paused and blinked. Somehow, Jak had turned out more like Sig than Mar had, and Mar was the one who actually shared blood with him! As grateful as he was -- overwhelmingly, shatteringly relieved and grateful -- that of all the people to have taken Baby Heart under his wing, it was Sig, he could have done without Sig’s impatience for hair care being passed along.

Even so, there was no bite in his voice when he muttered to Sig, "He gets this from you, doesn't he?"

"I apologize for nothing," Sig joked.

He pulled his knife out and handed it over to Jak.

"Let Daxter do it, kiddo. He can see the parts you can't."

"Fair enough," Jak agreed easily.

"If I get buried in this stuff, I demand financial compensation," Daxter warned as he was passed the knife.

"That's going to bounce up shorter than you think, you know," Damas commented. "Especially with the extra weight taken off."

"Hey, as long as it's not in my face or wrapped around my gun, I don't give a crap," Jak answered. He leaned back on his palms to give Daxter better access to the long curls.

"What was I supposed to do after the second oil soak? Is that it?"

"You can stop there," Sig begrudgingly admitted, "But in your case it...probably would be better to do one last thing of cream, since you don't wear a helmet like me. It'll protect your hair later."

Jak made a face, and Sig didn't blame him. As a boy, Sig had never been the most patient individual. He'd learned plenty of patience over the years, but when he was off-duty? He couldn't help some of the old instincts to just get it done and over with.

It was a good thing his mama couldn't see him right now. She'd box his ears and hold his head in the sink to finish the Wash Day herself. Selda had never let him get away with neglecting himself. Sig supposed he would have to start channeling his mother to ensure that Jak didn't continue to neglect himself.

Daxter set down the knife and examined his handiwork critically.

"Mm...well, it ain't stylish, but you don't look like you let a blindfolded batfinch style your hair, at least."

Damas made a little harrumph in the corner as he wrapped up his own application of a heated oil.

"Oh. Right. I need to change the batfinches' water tonight."

"Come again?" Daxter asked.

Sig picked up a wide-toothed comb and shrugged. "Damas keeps an aviary. He's got- what are you up to now, seven different species in there?"

"Ten, actually," Damas corrected. "The tavus eggs finally hatched. I had to get a pair of rock hens in order to hatch them, though."

"Rock hens? From the mountains?" Daxter asked, wrinkling his nose, "What's a rock hen got to do with peafowl?"

Damas’s eyes lit up with the prospect of actually talking about his birds.

"Rock hens will brood over anything even vaguely egg shaped," he said.

With a click he began setting his crown piercings back into their ports, gesturing now and then as he did.

"The incubators were hatching the peafowl eggs, but without other galliformes, the tavus chicks weren't surviving."

"You got them foster-moms," Daxter guessed, "Right?"

"I did!" Damas smiled. "They're doing quite well, so far."

Daxter stretched up over Jak's shoulder with a serious look. "We're gonna go see those birds, right?"

"After the flut-flut thing?" Jak teased him.

"They're already hatched! I don't gotta worry about gettin' mistaken for anybody's Ma this time!" Daxter argued. "Besides, I'm only goin' for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, mister "I'm just good with animals"!"

Jak wasn't sure yet. Going to this guy's aviary -- which he talked about with the same enthusiasm Jak used to feel about his bug collection -- felt like it would lead the man to start acting more buddy-buddy with him. Jak wasn't interested in that. He wanted his little brother back, and then maybe they could talk boundaries. But...there were baby animals. And...

He really liked baby animals.

They didn't shy away from him, even when he was in his dark form. If it weren't for animals like the city yakkows and the crocadog, Jak would probably have believed what everyone said about his dark side being some kind of mindless animal.

"Hhh. Okay. We can see the tavus chicks," he agreed, rolling his eyes.

Damas looked so pleased that whatever was left of his intimidating image dropped and shattered on the floor.

If he could find something in common with this boy -- something other than their mutual protectiveness over Mar; a boy his age had no business being made a parental figure to his sibling -- then perhaps they could start over on a better foundation than "I thought you were in danger so I had you kidnapped from Haven City". Even if that had definitely been the right call at the time.

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[loves-frogs]

In honor of my serious need for more character scenes and goofy moments in the PJO show I give you... A missing scene from episode 3 I think would be fun!

Missing Scene

After Annabeth gets off the bus, Percy convinces Grover to sneak out the window with him and get more snacks.

They sneak into the gas station behind Annabeth's back and cheerful music plays inside.

PERCY: Aw yeah they've got the blue ones!

GROVER: (In the background) tin cans!

Percy and Grover go ham, sneakily gathering snacks and staying out of Annabeth's line of sight.

GROVER: (Patting his pockets) Wait, Percy, we've got a problem.

PERCY: What? Some kind of monster?

GROVER: Annabeth took all the cash.

PERCY: I thought we split it evenly!

GROVER: Well... We did...

PERCY: Then I guess we've gotta get ours back

Percy and Grover start tailing Annabeth. Percy is about to get the money from her pocket when she pulls a knife and stops him short. Suddenly they're frozen, face to face.

ANNABETH: (Gestures to a security mirror thing) I saw you coming. (Gaze lowers to Percy's armful of food) Is that the last pack of blue Droidos?

PERCY: Uh...

GROVER: (Sneaks the money while Annabeth is distracted) Percy, Go!

Annabeth chases Percy and Grover through the isles. All are clearly having some fun. Somewhere during this, Percy runs into a fury, who sniffs the air menacingly. Soon they all arrive, panting, at the counter with like $120 worth of road snacks. Cashier raises an eyebrow. All three smile sheepishly. All return to the bus.

Later, Percy is opening the Doritos to share (Grover takes a piece of the bag. No explanation, just eats it and doesn't notice Percy's weird look.) When the fury attacks he drops his chips in the chaos.

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover watch as the bus crashes away.

PERCY: I can't believe she made me lose my Droidos.

ANNABETH: (As they all turn to leave) At least you got some.

GROVER: Ok what the heck are Droidos?

PERCY: do demigods not have Droidos?

ANNABETH: No, we do. You know those yellow triangle chips? We only ever get the red bags?

PERCY: (helpfully holds up triangle shape with fingers) the blue ones are the best.

GROVER: Are you guys talking about Doritos??

Percy and Annabeth make horrified and confused eye contact.

PERCY: Nope

ANNABETH: definitely not

GROVER: cause like... That's a really common type of triangular chip. Doritos.

PERCY: must be something different

ANNABETH: maybe it was off brand

GROVER: if you say so

(Annabeth and Percy pull each other aside)

PERCY: So... Dyslexia?

ANNABETH: Duh, I'm a demigod too. What, do you have seaweed for brains?

PERCY: Sorry oh wise one, I guess you didn't seem like the type

ANNABETH: Whatever. Let's go. (starts moving faster, then pauses) We will never speak of this again

Percy: Fine by me.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

Hi there!! I have an idea for you! How would Aizawa react to a young villain(who is in the LoV and at the same age as his students) being an evil genius? The rest is up to you but she is very skilled and very smart and she hurts him. Also his quirk doesn't work on her because she has a similar quirk which nullify others' quirks. Have a good day/night!

A/N: Hi, dears! Thanks for requesting and I know it had taken a lot for me to write this but school sucks... I hope that's for your liking and good readings!

After I wrote this, I realized that this included both requests...

Also, the reader is like 18-19 here and has a quirk called " Manipulation" which helps the owner to manipulate and control quirks and objects etc.

Taglist: @camerondiaz48104

~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°

Goodbye... Sensei...

Pairings: Aizawa x young!villain reader

Summary: The USJ attack was traumatizing to everyone in the Class 1-A in many ways. For their homeroom teacher? It was even worse...

Requested by: @makizeninfan

“No. 13, Do the evacuation procedure! And try calling the school!”

“ Kaminari, you too! Try contacting Yuuei with your quirk!”

At his teacher’s stern voice, Kaminari let out a shocked squeak while the others were too busy with being worried about being in a potential danger and the wellbeing of their teachers. Seeing Aizawa prepare his binding cloth and put his googles, Midoriya walked to his teacher.

“Sensei!? Are you gonna fight them alone!?”

And then his worried muttering began. Without a care, Aizawa put his googles on and jumped down from the high steps after putting all of his hopes of protecting his students to the 13th hero.

The villains in front of him all laughed at him jumping into the action, thinking that he wasn’t that strong and thus made their first big mistake.

“Who the hell’s that!?”

“Wasn’t there supposed to be only no.13 and All Might!?”

“Wait… IT WON’T SHOOT!!”

Behind the screen, a young girl who has been watching this little introduction part with bored eyes while polishing her nails turned her head at the voice of a familiar tone and widened her eyes upon seeing who was there. Then she started to laugh slowly and spinned her chair gleefully but her happiness didn’t last long when she heard the villain’s stupid talk. She looked at the screen menacingly and snarled at the idiots, while slamming her hand and opening the mic.

“Ya idiots!! Are you that stupid to not realize he erases your quirks?! I didn’t tell Shigaraki to collect a bunch of middle-schoolers here!”

At their patron screaming at them, they all shut their eyes close and held their ears in pain because of her quirks affecting them. But a certain one who had a mutant quirk didn’t seem to care at all and contiued to walk towards their new target.

“Hehe… Can he even erase mutant-shapes like me!?”

His sentence was cut short upon his face meeting with the black haired teacher’s fist and he stumbled backwards, eventualy passing out.  Shigaraki, who was behind the whole plan, scratched his neck all the while thinking about the next step.

“God, pro heroes are such a pain. If we were just any group, we wouldn’t stand a chance but…”

“… we have someone that they would never have. A genius. A true villain with great potential and hatred…”

“… someone whose hopes were crushed by the society we want to destroy…”

While Shigaraki was occupied with thinking, the one who she mentioned about gat up from her seat and started to talk with Kurogiri.

“Kurogiri-san… I believe that the underground hero underestimates us…”

“We can’t allow that.”      

And when Kurogiri’s black mist covered the whole place and blocked their ways out, all the students backed out with fear written on their eyes while 13 was also shocked at the sudden appearance before her eyes. Before they would attack and protect each other, the one before them started to talk and explain the reason they were there.

When you saw two spiked haired boy attack Kurogiri, you jumped from your seat and started to gather your items while Shigaraki who was like your bratty brother stopped you with the four of his fingers, holding your wrist carefully. You looked at him questioningly with a rised eyebrow and he pointed at the screen and then at you, commanding you to take care of yourself. You smirked at him teasingly and nodded your head, telling Kurogiri to warp you into the USJ.

At the meantime, Kurogiri was threatining the young students while they were trying to stand still because ot the wind that happened as a result of his mist. But then a soft and teasing voice interrupted him, making him calm down slightly.

“Kurogiri~~ Don’t scare the poor things to death! They are not the ones who we came for!”

“I’m sorry, Miss (Y/N).”

The young woman walked slowly at the students and 13 but a shocking truth dawned on them…

They couldn’t move any part of their body.

Then, they started to freak out since they were miserable without using their bodies and the young girl looked at them confused but smiled soon and swinged her arm around one of the students which made him growl in response.

“Oh dear, you must be wondering what’s going on! To sum it up, It’s my guirk Manipulation. I can control everything and anything living or non-living… including Quirks…”

“ And right now, I’m controlling every cell and muscle in your bodies alongside your quirks to immobilize you all. Actually I know quite a lot of things about your quirks. Not gonna lie, every one of you has great quirks but you’re all blinded by the flashy and highlighted colors of the hero society. Poor you, never thought of why the villains are the way they are… “

“I see that you wanna talk, ponytail so… go on.”

When you finished your talking and looked at the girl who was now able to move her mouth, she sighed in relief but that didn’t cover the fact that she was still scared and thinking about a way out and eventually, she looked at you straight in the eye and talked.

“ You are villains just because you want to destroy what you don’t have. You’re abominations of our society and you’d never win and you know this too. That’s why you are here…”

When she stopped talking midsentence to search for your reaction and you started to pout sadly which made a few of them think that a part of you still held regret but immediately, you smiled widely while looking at the blue haired male out of the corner of your eye.

“By the way Iida-kun, you might want to hurry up or else I’ll probably kill or at lest go near killing your dear sensei~~"

As soon as he heard his name come out of your mouth, Iida widened his eyes and slowly turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, the same fear as his friends held.

You waved your hand towards the entrance and smiled softly at him and he slowly moved to the entrance and then took a run for the Yuuei. You turned to the students with a cold look on your face and dusted yourself off.

“Well, it was nice to talk with y’all but unfortuanetly I have other jobs to do so… have fun with your training!”

With the wave of your hand Kurogiri opened his portals again and sent the students to the different parts of the training ground.Then, he came to stand beside you to look down at the events happening and looked at you with his static yellow eyes.

“ Are you going to face with Eraserhead, Miss?”

You slowly looked at him with big eyes and looked down at the man fighting against your brother and tsked at his immaturity, cracking your knuckles and plopped down on the ground.

“Not yet… His favourite one is about to come and I don’t want to deal with his tantrums.”

Seeing your previous sensei all beaten up and bloodied was a sight you never tought you would see. Seeing him so stubborn and dead-set on protecting the students made you let out an annoyed "tch", wondering why he hadn't done the same for you.

Why hadn't he come for you...

The day when all your trust for the heroes vanished, was the day none of them ever came for you and your friend. You had watched her die, choking on her blood with spikes shooting out of body, with a huge debris over your legs that made you unable to move...

If it wasn't for Kurogiri and your master, you would be dead just like her.

But you didn't, and ever since that day... Only your master's voice rang inside your mind, blocking your friend's sweet face and voice.

"Get revenge..."

And now, standing before his beaten body by the Nomu after Shigaraki's taunting of the next heroes, creating an invisible shield that prevented others from entering, you crouched before him. The yells of "sensei!" could be heard even inside the bubble that they obviously couldn't break, and the sounds of that Bakugo guy exploding and ultimately failing made you laugh crazily, even going as far as making you cry.

Or maybe, you finally lost the connection between your brain and emotions after all that you endured.

Aizawa couldn't focus on one thing, his brain was too smushed for that. His sight was blurry with tints of red and he was ready to die for good. For a middle-aged man, he saw and experienced enough blood-shed and broken bones to know that his end was near.

That is, if the others wouldn't arrive any time soon.

But even in the middle of his death, he could always remember those eyes. The eyes that once held a bright future in them, the eyes that had the ambitions of a young girl who only wanted to save humans...

The eyes of hif favourite student, the one he saw as a daughter... The dull eyes of the once young girl whose dream was to be a hero...

"Y/N..." his weak whisper made you stop in the middle of your laugh and look down at him, not hearing your real name for a long time. You tilted your head confused and brought his head closer by yanking on his bloodied hair, not understanding where all those voices were coming from.

"You have potential to be more..."

" You can do better like this, here... Try it..."

"Don't forget to eat your meals, kid..."

"Forget about them, your new home is here!"

"I'm proud of you, Y/N... of the hero you will be one day."

You shook your head, heart trying to make you... remember? What was there to remember anyway? The time when they left? Or the times you had to go through all those experiments..?

How your master... never cared about you and tousled you from side to side..?

Or how you never trully mattered... to anyone..?

"Why do you do this... Making me question myself when my loyalty is-"

"If you were sure... of it, you-you wouldn't question it... I thought I taught you... that..." tears gathered at the corner of Aizawa's eyes, both from the physcial and emotional damage done to his body. He remembered that day, when he was still new to being teacher. He hated how lousy the kids were, how they didn't cate about the consquences, how they didn't think before they acted...

Except you.

You always trained and was aware of the extent of your powers. You could read the environment even in times of crisis, always knowing where to stand and exactly when to attack. You were kind, supportive, loving and hardworking...

All the reasons why he loved you more than any students he had at that time.

And that was the reason why he almost killed everyone for stopping him from getting to you. He never forgave them, and always pressured them to search for you and your friend. They only told him that she was dead and there was no sign of you...

And it broke his heart. Maybe if only he didn't listen to them, looked for you more or tried harder... You wouldn't be where you were right now.

You grew up to be an amazing young girl with the sharpest mind he had ever seen... You would have been an amazing hero, inspiring others and saving lives just as you always imagined with him watching you accomplish all of your dreams with a proud smile...

But here you two were.

Student against teacher...

Villain against hero...

"You taught me a lot... For example never to trust anyone fully, I just never thought it would be you whom I shouldn't trust with."

"Y/N... I tried to find you... I tried to fight but the Hero Commission-"

"If a hero is bound by the law made by people with zero care for human life... Then, they are no hero..."

To that, he didn't have an answer to give. He saw how your heart was broken and he let out a shuddering breath, accepting his fate...

Dying at the hands of his student.

But he reopened his eyes at feeling no pain and looked at you with eyes wide with shock. He no longer felt pain, and his skull was a lot better, all the blood disappearing as if nothing happened.

You... healed him?

He watched your figure slowly getting closer to the purple and black portal with a pounding heart. If what he thought was true...

Then you weren't completely gone into that evil side.

Before you got out of the bubble you created, he caught your hand thightly and begged you with tears in his eyes. "Y/N, I know you're not completely gone! I can help you!"

"You can't and won't." You said harshly and got your hand out of his grip, fearing yourmaster would see the dilemma you were in. "What makes you think-"

"Because if you were... You wouldn't have healed me. Look, I know I am at wrong, that I didn't do anything but this time, even if I have to fight with you, for you.... I will not give up on you this time!"

And while you left them there, healthy and well unknowing to the League, Aizawa swore that he heard you call out his name with a sad look over your shoulders.

"You can't help me, Sensei... I'm in too deep."

And he swore to himself that even if it got him killed, he would save you...

Knowing that you could read minds.

"I will save you from them... I will do it, no matter what!"

And smiling sadly at his words while walking in your room under the heavy stares of the others in the team, you slid down on the door and sat down with crossed legs.

"Goodbye sensei... I hope that you won't do that, for your own good..."

With only the memory of you two holding his binding scarf and him letting you use it precisely, watching with a rare happy smile.

[ffsg0jo]

[22:02] KIRISHIMA EIJROU -- masterlist

'i love you' said eijrou, calloused hands softly sifting through your hair, your eyes closed and head delicately resting in his lap.

'i know' you whispered, slightly opening your eyes to gaze into your lover's, to show him how much you meant it when you firmly replied with an 'i love you too'.

you were certain of his love, more certain than you were about needing oxygen, to breathe, to live; to you, eijrou's love is your oxygen, the reason you're still living and breathing. 

and for him, he too was certain of yours, more certain than he was about the moon that shone so brightly in the night sky; even when you were absent, he could still feel your everlasting presence watching over and guiding his heart. 

everyone else was undoubting of it as well. more than the force of gravity that keeps them grounded and centred, pulling them down to the heart of the earth; you kept each other grounded and centred, your hearts perfectly aligned with each other, beating in unison, as one. 

they were assured of it through fits of laughter and giggles, the countless amounts of kisses peppered around both of your faces, not a single inch of your body went unloved and not a single inch of his did either. 

they saw it through sweet reassurances when you were feeling down, and affirmations and declarations whenever he lost a little faith in himself.

through spontaneous dances and hushed laughter at 2am in the kitchen when sero goes downstairs in the middle of the night to get a cup of water to quench his thirst. he leaves with a wide smile and a faint blush instead, not wanting to interrupt your sweet moment.

through bakugo stomping down the hallway to go and (angrily) reassure kirishima, that his abilities were fucking awesome and that he'd be the second best hero, after himself of course. he turned the corner only to find you cupping kiri's cheeks, stamping sweet kisses and unconditional support to his forehead. ‘tch’, bakugo said, turning around and making his way back to the training room. guess shitty hair's alright he thought, lips moving upwards in the smallest of motions, he didn't even see you leave the fucking room to run after kiri. typical. 

through denki and mina trying to sneak into kiri's room, to swap his shampoo with bleach, or hair gel with glue, they hadn't decided which yet, but they linked their arms and tiptoed along nonetheless. 

they whispered and crept through the hallways, hushing each other when they got too loud, giggling like two little toddlers, and knocked on kiri's door. no response, they turned to each other and menacingly grinned. 

they ever so carefully twisted the doorknob, slowly and found it to be unlocked. again they turned to each other and grinned, an evil laugh threatening to erupt from the both of them. 

swinging the door open, the pair of them were about to burst in only to be met with the peaceful sight of two lovers, embraced in each other's warmth, sleeping soundly and blanketed with comfort. 

the adrenaline in their bodies subsided and melted into a puddle of immense adoration and awe. they had no option but to gently close the door, mindful of you two sleeping, put a hold on their plans and leave you two be. 

not before taking several pictures though. pictures that would circulate the class group chat, pictures that would cause endless amounts of teasing, pictures that you and kirishima would cherish forever and thank your friends for. 

'i know' says eijrou. he's never been so sure of something, he thinks to himself, smiling down at you with a big toothy grin. 'i know'

* this is a repost from my old blog with minor edits !! *

© ffsg0jo 2022 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

taglist:: @dukina @cupidines @sinumaki @thegojosimpehe @serxeinxx

[magician-kitty]

The Great Wall Race

"Once a year, this city becomes more than a city. Once a year, these streets...become more than streets. This year, the winner will shall become...Immortal!"

The screen cuts and zooms out to a giant trophy shaped as a Peach of Immortality before fading to a television screen and the two girls gasped.

"A Peach of Immortality!~" The two girls gasped, eyes sparkling in awe, faces nearly touching the TV screen.

"A peach of what now?" Pigsy asked, confused as to what the two were talking about, causing the duo to gasp in shock and horror.

"Pigsy, seriously?!" MK and Mei started off on a rant, but due to the fact that they were both talking over each other, nothing registered in the pig demon's head.

"Ahem," Tang spoke up, everyone turning to where the scholar sat, book open in one hand. "If you'll allow me. Legend says, there is a scared field of trees which grows in the Heavenly Realm, protected by the gods themselves," Tang reads aloud, the girls listening intently, "Every few thousand years, these trees bring forth the Peaches of Immortality. Against the wishes of the heavenly host, the Monkey King took them all. Making himself immortal!"

"Hold up," Pigsy interrupts, a look of confusion displayed on his face, the others turning to him. "I thought the Monkey King was already immortal?"

"Pigsy, you're missing the point!" Mei scowls at the demon. "Whoever wins this race will become immortal!~"

MK and Mei rush out the store, The dragon girl walks over to her bike, taking out the spare toolkit in MK's Noodle Cart, and doing some last minute repairs to the bike.

"This is huge!~" MK gushes, light brown eyes sparkling in excitement. "Those other racers won't stand a chance!~"

"Right?" Mei joins in, looking up from where she was cleaning off the bike's frame, a confident smirk painted on her face. "I know the track like the back of my hand! The back alleys, the front alleys, the sideways alleys...all the alleys!~" It appeared like the girl was holding up an imaginary trophy, given the pose she took. "I was made for this!~"

"Yeah! I'm totally gonna win this thing."

"Wait, what?" Mei said in disbelief, looking at MK. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"I'm gonna be racing too!" MK said cheerfully. Mei on the other hand, didn't seem all to happy with her response.

"Wha-But- I'm racing!" Mei shouts angrily, hopping off her bike. "You've been watching me train for months! this should not be a surprise!"

"Oh! I know...I just thought you were doing all that stuff for me." MK gave an innocent looking smile. Mei grits her teeth, glaring down at her menacingly.

"But, you know...upon reflection, yep, that doesn't make much sense." She chuckled nervously.

Mei sighs in frustration, rubbing her forehead before crossing her arms. "MK, I really don't think you should race. Racing and Delivering Noodles are two different things. You could get seriously hurt."

"Don't be crazy, Mei I could beat you! I'm a delivery girl, I'm pretty sure I know how to drive real good." MK protests. Mei only blew a raspberry, puffing her cheeks as Tang walked out of the shop, holding a flag with Mei's face on it.

Mei and MK noticed him, sliding up on either side of him, grinning at him.  "Hey Mr. Tang, who's the better driver? Mei or Me?" She asked. She gasped, noticing the flag Tang was holding.

"Hm, I'm sensing hostility and it's very uncomfortable." and with that, Tang ran off as MK grunts in frustration.

Mei smirking at her. "Whatever! I'm absolutely gonna win!"

"How exactly!? You know you need a vehicle to race, right?" Mei asked, raised a brow.

"Oh! I've got a vehicle!" MK grinned. Mei huffed and finished working on her bike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We're now just minutes away from the start of the race, as the drivers make their final preparations!~" The announcer says over the intercom, as Mei frantically checked over her cycle, looking to see if she'd missed any last minute fixes to the bike. The girl was starting to panic, thinking she'd missed something.

Suddenly, MK's Tuk-Tuk came crashing into the rails, landing in the spot next to Mei. "Oh, wussup Mei, I didn't see you there." She grinned, teasing.

Mei frowned at her bestie's attempt. "You're really gonna do this? You're really gonna try and race me?" MK opened her her to answer her, but then a familiar voice interrupted her.

"Will you two please be quiet?!" Shouted Red Son in his racecar huffing at MK's sheepish look. "I'm trying to get in the zone."

MK looked shocked that the fire demon of all people would be here, what even shocked her that his parents were here as well.

"You got this, sweetie!" Princess Iron Fan's voice called out from the stand across the race track, the racers all turning to see the Demon Bull Family sitting in a booth, surrounded by Bull Clone bodyguards. "Annihilate the competition!"

"Show the fools no mercy!" DBK roared, shaking the earth. Red Son face turned red from embarrassment. "Oh no.." he grumbled, pink eyes in his cheeks.

MK couldn't help but giggle at the fire demon's embarrassment. She did a quick turn to the viewers.

"Don't you just love it when your parents support you?~"

"On that note," Shouted a familiar voice, making MK groan in annoyance. "You have got to be kidding me."

it was Jin and Yin. The two assholes that trapped her in the Calabash, she had yet to pay them back for that horrific experience. "We're the new commentators!"

"And, to spice things up," Jin announced from the booth. "We've gone ahead and altered the race track!"

"What!?" They yelling in surprise.

"That's right," Yin smirked, everyone looking up at the TV, and watching the silver demon pointing at the start and finish. "Here's your start line, here's your finish line, get there any way you like!"

"On your marks..."

"Wait, Hold on!"

"Get set..."

"Wait, what?"

"Go!!"

Red Son revs up his car, zooming past Mei and MK. "Sorry ladies! I'll see you at the finish line!" Red Son called out before letting out a cackle.

"Yeah, see you at the finish line!" called MK, imitating his laugh, following after him.

Mei grits her teeth, hopping onto her bike and zooming after MK and Red Son. "Get back here!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get out of my way Dragon Girl!" Red Son shouted, trying to pass Mei to no avail, the girl swerving in front of him each time he tried to pass her.

"Nice try Red Baby!~" Mei called after her with a laugh. "But I'm winning this thing!"

Red Son growled in frustration, MK suddenly appears, landing in front of Red Son with a scream as she swerves.

"And It's becoming majorly apparent that some drivers are better than others! Oh! That's is a very sharp turn!"

A sharp turn is seen up ahead, MK struggling to keep control of the cart as the others pass her.  MK, Mei and Red Son were neck and neck.

"Get out of my way, Noodle Girl!" Red yelled.

"Never!" While the two were distracted, Mei zips past them, driving on ahead. Red son follows after her, zipping past MK.

"Hey! no fair!" MK cried, cranking the gas of the cart. "Here...comes...Monkie kid!" the cart doesn't get too far before sputtering and toppling over.

"I'm so stupid! ah, I've got Monkey King powers! I think I'll be fine!" She stopped before realization suddenly hits her. "Oh, wait!"

She pulls out the staff from his ear, powering up the cart. "I'm the greatest racer ever!" She spun the staff, plunging it into the road, flinging the cart over.

Up ahead, Mei zips down the road, green light behind her. She laughs, making it through the track.

"And at this point, the only way Mei's not gonna win." Yin stated.

"is if some sort of flying fool were to crash into her from above!" Said Jin.

All of a sudden, Mei looks up to see the cart, flying towards her. "Ah! Look out!" Mei screams as the cart crashes into her.

At the shop, Pigsy and Tang stare wide eyed as they watch the race. Pigsy had his hands over his eyes, while Tang covered his mouth in shock. "My baby!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh. yep, as I said that is just really...really unlucky." Jin groaned. MK groans, falling off the tattered cart. Red Son came driving down the road, swerving and spinning his car, leaving dust as he drove off. "Victory is mine, ladies!"

"MK! what did you do?" Mei yelled. she looks around, her eyes widening as she gasps. "My bike!" She growled, glaring at MK as she walks over to her. "What is wrong with you, MK! You could have been seriously hurt! And you wrecked my bike, I thought you were my friend?"

"I-I'm sorry Mei, I didn't-I just..." she sighed, rubbing the back of her head. "I really wanted to win that peach and I guess I got carried away, You know how much I love stone fruit. I was never gonna actually win, though." She sighed, stuffing her hands into her pockets. "You're the greatest racer in the world Mei, not me. I'm so sorry."

Mei's eyes softened ah her bestie's words. Aww she couldn't really stay mad at her. Mei sighed, punching MK's arm. "Yeah, I know. Just... don't be dumb next time, okay?"

"All I can do is try!" MK grins before sighing again. "Can't believe Red Son is gonna win."

Mei looks at the rubble, grinning as she looks back at MK. "Um, you do have Monkey King powers?"

"Yeah!" MK pulls the staff out her ear. "Here comes Monkie kid!" She spun the staff over her head, slamming it into the ground, as golden light erupts from below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Red Son has the commanding lead now!" Jin exclaimed.

"Yeah! It looks like he's is going to win!" Yin chimes in.

Red Son laughs, only for the earth to shake as he looks behind him. A cloud of dust was seen and bursting from the top of the hill was a red and gold car.

It was Mei and MK.

"Oh! looks like Mei and MK are back in the race!"

Inside the car, Mei and MK were screaming at the top of their lungs. They simultaneously slam their feet on the accelerator, crashing into Red Son's car. MK flails her arms, grabbing her staff, rebuilding the car. Inside, She, Mei and Red Son were squished together.

Red son's eyes blaze into flames, Mei and MK screaming, losing control of the car. Red Son is then thrown out of the car, crashing into a wall as Mei and MK make the finish line.

"It's all over!" shouts Yin.

"Mei and MK win!" Jin exclaimed.

Tang and Pigsy cheers, embracing each other. "Way to go kids!" Pigsy cheered.

"That's my baby girl!" Tang exclaimed.

Mei and MK were presented with the golden peach trophy as the crowd cheered. "Here Mei, you deserve this more." MK pushed the trophy in her hands. The dragon girl shook her head. "We both won, girl. I couldn't have done it without you." Mei gave her a bright smile. MK smiled right back.

"Noodle Girl!" there was a loud explosion, Red Son stomped over to the duo in anger. "You are insufferable! that peach should be mine!"

MK glared at him, alongside Mei. "Buddha, what is wrong with you! We won fair and swear!"

Red Son growled, clenched his fists. "As if! The peach of immortality will be mine, and my family will reign supreme!" He yelled, flailing his arms around.

MK stared at the whiny demon with a deadpanned expression, she glanced at Mei, and then to the viewers.

"I don't think he knows..."

"Um, Red Boy, it's just a trophy, you know We don't really get a peach of immortality." Mei stated, MK nodded.

"SAY WHAT!?" Red Son said in disbelief. "Bu-but the poster says-It says it right here on the poster, I-"

He turned hearing Mei and MK laughing, hands on their stomachs, legs flailing in the air.  "D-Did you actually thought- it says you get immortality by having your picture projected on the great wall! Duh!"

A picture is seen of MK holding up the trophy, Mei laughing behind her, with Red Son in the background.

'So the peach was just a metaphor?' Red thought, He hisses flails angrily, but hides his embarrassment. "I knew that! you both think you're so.." He teleports himself away with his flame tornado, but only lands a few feet away.

"Peasants!" He turned to walk away, a voice stopped him.

"Wait, Red Son!" He turns to see MK walking up to him. "Look, full disclosure...I had to admit, you were pretty awesome back there." She smiled.

Red Son blushed at her compliment, coughs looking away. "Thank you, I-I suppose you were good out there too Noodle girl. Even though the trophy turned out to be bogus."

MK giggled, Red Son blushed more from the sound of her laughter. "Say, why don't I treat you to some noodles?" She offered.

Red Son stared at her, wanting to protest but just scoffed.

"I'll take that as a yes." MK grinned, taking his hand leading him back to the shop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the shop MK walks out of the kitchen, placing a bowl of noodles in front of Red Son. "Here you go, enjoy!"

"Noodles?" He stared at the bowl, looking back at MK "You made this...for me?"

"Uh huh! Something to cheer you up after the race," MK smiled, rubbing the back of her head. "I made sure they were extra spicy just for you!"

"Wait, how did you..?" He trailed off.

"Call it a hunch," She grinned widely. "I hope you like them!"

Red son turned his attention back to the bowl, picking up his chopsticks, hesitantly taking a bit. His eyes widened, cheeks coloring a red hue.

MK panicked for a bit, did he not like them? "Oh no! Did I make them too spicy?! I can make you another one if-" He cuts her off.

"Don't patronize me, noodle girl!" Red Son yelled, he sighed wiping his lips "It's...actually very good. Thank you."

MK hadn't noticed his cheeks turning red as he smiled. "Really? Thank you! I can make you more if you like!" She smiled brightly.

Mei smiled, watching the two interact before eating her own bowl of noodles, she eyed the viewers.

"Im starting to think he's her secret admirer." She muttered with her mouth full.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at Flower Fruit Mountain, it turns out that the Immortal Peaches are with him. Monkey King rested on his cloud, Bai-He napping soundly next to him. He plucked a peach from a branch. "Stone fruit...if these didn't make me immortal," he takes another bite.

They'd literally kill me." He burped, indicating his stomach was full and winking at the readers.

"Stay tuned for more Tales of the Monkey Princess!"

"Bába, who are you talking too?" Bai-He asked, yawning.

[ssarkosghost]

Arkos Week DAY 3 - AU

Alright here’s a nice Sci-Fi AU for these two souls, a first meeting of sorts 😄 for Day 3 of @arkos-week-2022 and who knows might also expand this one too.

To be honest Jaune knew this was his fate in the long run. Experienced soldiers have difficulty keeping up with the various elites of the stellar kingdoms. The fact that he, a basic recruit, managed to last so long, was a miracle. The monsters known as Grimm had easily blitzed the small outpost and had torn apart the defense. He himself barely had time to find a durable spot as his platoon’s rout turned into a massacre. Soon however just as he barricaded the small office he dove into, the screams of the dying had stopped.

So here he sat, the sole member of his squad, under a cramped desk with his rifle pointed at the door. He had no idea if the monsters were still there, and no idea how long the silence stretched on. He tried to keep his nerves together, focusing on just how could he get out of this nightmare. His options were limited, disregarding the immediate threats to his survival, getting off the desolate asteroid base was almost impossible. He could make a run for the hangers, brave his space sickness and attempt to pilot a craft out of here if such craft were still functioning. His other option was to make a run to communications and attempt to send an SSO.

The issue there was that even if he managed to survive his way to the comms room, and power hadn’t been shut down, there still was the fear that any ship that arrive would simply decide to blow the base to the Brothers’ domains.

“Hangers it is then,” Jaune said, a basic attempt to hype himself up. Doing a quick check of his ammo he crept toward the door. Darkness greeted him and he nearly swore. The generators must have gone out. “It’s alright Jaune,” he muttered to himself, “most of the ships should have weapons that can blast open the hangar doors.”

He gingerly made his way through the dark, his eyes straining to see ahead in the gloom. All along were the signs of slaughter. Great rents in the walls, pools of blond, and of course the bodies of his fellow soldiers lain strewn about. Jaune did his best to hold his stomach, while also looking to see if any of the still forms were still amongst the living. So focused was he on not losing his lunch that he hardly noticed himself heading deeper and deeper into the base.

The first indication he had was when a sudden hiss behind him caused him to jump. Flicking on his gun’s light on, only to reveal a busted pipe. He sighed, his nerves finally having gotten to him, only for his worries to pick back up when he realized that he was on a flight of stairs heading downward.

“What? How?” he mumbled as he fumbled for the base map he had been given. He knew he wasn’t the best at navigating but he wasn’t that bad, right?

Turns out he was, but that wasn’t the most pressing issue for him. From the gloom behind him, a bone white skull emerged. The Grimm’s scarlet eyes bore down on the distracted meal, and opened its void-like maw, ready to devour another soul.

 “SPLICKT!!”

 “SHIT!!” Jaune cried out as he dropped down at the sudden explosion of Grimm chunks and liquid. “What the pits was that abou……” his voice trailed off as he noted his savior in his gun’s light. A seven-foot armored humanoid stood on a lower set of stairs, the T-shaped visor staring at him menacingly. However, part of Jaune’s fear was replaced with concern as he spotted a dark crystal-like spike jutting from his savior’s back. Gingerly he stood up, showing both his hands. “Hi I’m Medical Specialist Arc, I’ve got a few—SHIT!!” he yelled as the armored being suddenly collapsed forward.

 //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 Myrmidon-312 or Pyrrha awoke lying face down. Fighting the urge to spring into action, she needed more information as a lack of that had landed her in this mess in the first place. Her original mission details had said this would be a simple snatch and grab operation. Someone had failed to mention that two entire regiments had been stationed here for security, and honestly if it wasn’t for the sudden Grimm assault she might have been forced to go loud—

“I don’t care what state secrets are under there you dam ones and zeros,” a voice suddenly broke through her thoughts. “If I can’t look under that armor, I won’t be able to make sure that the wound is clean,”

“You are an unknown actor—”

“I’m a fucking medic that just dragged you and your damn operator through a Grimm-infested base to a mostly intact infirmary, not to mention I’m trying to help get them healed you blasted program!” the voice of the blonde soldier she had saved bellowed as parts of said rescue came back to her.

“Removal of the spike does not require—”

“That damn spike has some sort of toxin, like most things those Brothers damned Grimm use to attack—”

“Necessary supplements within the suit will handle—”

“I’m not risking—”

“Akoúo̱,” Pyrrha finally cut in twisting her head to get a better look at the haggard medic, “how long will the internal supplies last?” silence followed her statement as her defensive AI ran the calculations. She knew the answer though, Grimm toxins were notorious for burning a being’s body down even with a constant supplement supply. The best method was and had always been removal. When the silence stretched a second too long, she knew she had to make the call. “Akoúo̱, disengage the back locks,”

“M-312—” but before Akoúo̱ could berate her for her disregard, she had used her mag-palms, snatched her rail-spear, and aimed it at the poor medic.

“Huh, wha wait hold on,” the boy started waving his arms in a panic.

“Akoúo̱ activate Xiphos and tell him if…” she trailed off not sure how to identify the blonde.

“Arc,” Jaune replied tersely unsure who the weapon was actually for and also trying to keep from being amazed at how cool this all was, he was being threatened Brothers damn it.

“If Arc attempts anything other than removing and bandaging, they are to shoot, am I clear,”

“Yes,” both Akoúo̱ and Jaune said, and Pyrrha smiled at that, perhaps today wouldn’t end terrible, plus this was the first medic she didn’t feel unease around, though perhaps that was because he had dragged her entire form to safety. Just who are you? She wondered in her mind as she braced herself for the incoming pain.

[figurctives]

     the pacific ocean rocks gently beneath the weight of an innocent question. bared against the glaring sun and july heat, the wood of the yacht deck is all but melting and the polyester cushions have molded themselves almost permanently to the shape of henrietta huang and mina kang’s bodies. henri can’t say for sure how many hours they have clocked sitting here, soaking up the last of the summer rays, something unspoken between them. but mina’s question breaks up some of that static silence. 

     how did you know you were in love?

     henri watches the waves as they dip and bob, catching and sparkling with sunshine. the horizon stretches on endlessly before them, and she can’t help but be reminded of the last time she sat and watched the ocean, strong arms wrapped around her and a feeling of content growing warm inside of her.  

     she looks over at mina, but mina isn’t looking back. her blonde hair shines almost as brightly as the ocean, head tilted back to bring her face to the sun, eyes closed and skin striped with tan lines. the anxiety in henri’s throat is short lived.

     does mina know? henri shakes her head. she doesn’t. she couldn’t. she can’t, ever. 

     “i don’t know,” henri answers, eyes turning back to the gentle, sparkling waves. the sweet bitterness of one glass too many lingers on the back of her tongue, the hollow feeling in her chest telling her she hasn’t eaten nearly enough to combat the four, five, six glasses of mimosa she’s had. 

      there were many times that she knew she was in love. even before she knew it was love, when she was still naive enough to think it wouldn’t be like that, that she wouldn’t let it get that far. touches that burned hotter than the sun, hours lost to soft words and quiet conversations. she can’t say when it began, can’t pinpoint any one moment as the start. maybe that first time, that first night. her fate was sealed then, she’s sure. 

      but that isn’t what mina is asking. mina is asking about theo. 

      “i just knew,” henri says.

    “you just knew?” mina laughs, adjusting against the cushions, pulling her knees to her chest. “come on, seriously. there had to have been a moment where you thought, ‘woah, this is it’, right?”

      henri shrugs. there were so many moments like that. when the realization that she was in love hit so hard she forgot to speak. 

      “it sounds boring, but falling in love isn’t really like running directly into a wall,” she explains, laying back against the cushions with a sigh so mina can’t look at her. she tries to put it into words. “it’s like... running down hill. you start off slow, and steady, and it’s so... it’s so easy and there’s all this momentum pushing you along and you don’t even realize that you’re going faster and faster and faster until you have to slow down, or stop, and you can’t.”

     and then it’s a bit like running into a wall. or like the walls have come crashing down and there’s nowhere to take cover. 

    “but by the time you realize you’re going that fast, you know that you’ve already been doing it for a while, and you don’t really know when it started, or how you figured out.”

      “i don’t think that sounds boring at all,” mina says. there is a longing in her voice that henri doesn’t want to think about. so instead she focuses on the footsteps she hears coming up the stairs, the obnoxious slap of wet flip-flops. both girls turn to look as sam pokes out onto the upper deck, hair pushed off his forehead with a pair of sunglasses. 

      “storm’s rolling in,” he tells them. “we’re going to start heading back to the shore soon, but you guys should come inside.”

      henri looks back out to on the horizon, the sky clear and blue and limitless. but when she turns back to call sam a liar, on the other end of the yacht the sky has darkened, clouds rolling menacingly. and henri can’t explain why, but it makes her stomach go cold. 

––––––––––

      11 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑯𝑺 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑹.

      if she opens her mouth and speaks then she’ll never be allowed to slip away.

      that’s usually how this goes, anyways. not that henri is up for much talking tonight. it’s been three hours since her flight landed in europe. she’d barely even had time to shower before she had to be here, but the quick fifteen minutes beneath the spray wasn’t nearly enough to wash away the evidence of summer that lingered on her body. the sun freckles dotted across her exposed shoulders and the tops of her cheeks, her hair that waved messily with the remnants of sea salt and humidity. her mother had only clucked her tongue in disapproval. 

      henri follows closely behind suah huang now, in a ballroom full of important people. the st. agathe annual committee dinner is held every year exactly a week before the start each new year. from all across the world, students and their parents, often alumni of the university themselves, travel to celebrate the prestigious school’s long lasting lineages and empty their pockets in order to ensure their children’s futures. it’s so fucking boring.

      “henrietta, come say hello,” her mother ushers, snapping henri out of her thoughts. henri pulls her lips into a polite smile and steps up to suah’s side. she shakes the hand offered to her. it belongs to an older man with greying hair, probably the same age as her father if the emerging wrinkles by his eyes when he smiles at her are any indication. 

      the room is full of exchanges exactly like this. tight lipped smiles, firm handshakes, loosely held flutes of champagne and glasses of whiskey. a string quartet plays prettily in the corner of the room and the chandeliers hang so far above their heads that it is a little dizzying. 

      “stuart, this is my daughter, henrietta,” suah says. “henrietta, this is stuart mason, the head of the finance committee at st. agathe.”

      “it’s nice to meet you, mr. mason,” henri says, unsure of where her mother is going with this, but knowing that this will be only the first introduction of many. they weren’t able to attend last year, as the event is only held for returning students. returning students whose parents have decided to donate, specifically. henri never bothered asking what her parents would be shoveling out, but she imagines it’s a number big enough to have stuart mason shaking her hand so eagerly.

      “you as well, henrietta,” he says. “i’ve spoken with your mother over the summer. she tells me you have plans to start a campus organization this year?”

      “did she?” henri asks, trying to keep her surprise hidden. she shouldn’t be surprised at all, knowing her mother. her parents had let her slide under the radar last year, allowed her to get used to the school and the rigorous academic responsibilities of university. truthfully, henri had spent that time procrastinating and partying with her friends, the same exact thing she’s been doing all summer, too. she should have known that her mother would be making these kinds of plans and promises whether henri was around or not. it’s one of the reasons she spent the entire summer abroad with mina, hopping from country to country, baking under the sun and drinking their body weight in prosecco. 

      “yes,” mr. mason says. “she tells me you have interest in philanthropy? i want you to know that i am always available to help with any fundraising queries or financial advice. in fact, let’s set up a meeting for next month and we can discuss your options as far as campus clubs go, how does that sound?”

      henri’s fingers tighten around the stem of her glass. her mother answers for her. 

      “that would be lovely, stuart,” suah says. “henri will be sure to come and reintroduce herself once the semester starts. and i’ll be in touch.”

      he gives them another smile and a nod, and then henri is whisked off into another handshake and forced to play along with all the promises her mother has made in her stead. she wishes she had her phone, as her eyes scan the room between conversations. she catches glimpses of her friends, familiar faces that she knows have better plans once they are all free from their parent’s talons, but henri’s not sure she can wait that long, heels tapping impatiently against the polished floors. there is a list of excuses piled up on her tongue, desperately fighting to get past her teeth, but she decides to not say anything at all.

      instead, she makes a sudden, sharp left, disappearing between a group of bodies before suah can notice her daughter is no longer nipping at her heels like a dog on a leash. she moves swiftly, head ducked and shoulders tense, because the few hours since she has landed have not been enough to wash that away, either. the steady nerves and the fear that she will say the wrong thing or forget someone’s name too quickly or trip or not know the answer to a simple question someone is asking. the feelings that make her empty her glasses too quickly and make her dress feel too tight around her ribs. she just needs to pause for five minutes, not yet used to this again after a summer of sunny leisure. 

      she stalks past the restrooms and the bustling kitchens, away from the rumble of conversation and the heat of too many bodies and slips into quiet, chilled room, swinging the door closed behind her with a soft click. she presses her back to it and closes her eyes, shoulders lifting and falling a heaving sigh. 

[quietplace26]

Dragon!KK au (2)

The world around Akito was a blur of colors and shapes as he ran like hell through the forest.

All Akito's focus was on the path in front of him as he jumped over fallen logs, dodged low tree branches, and tried desperately not to trip over sharp rocks as he was chased by an angry Dragon!

Oh god! This was real! This was really happening to him! He was being chased by a real life Dragon!

The roars, growls, and earth shattering steps it took while chasing after him only further proved how real this whole terrifying situation was!

Akito knew he absolutely couldn't be caught by this monster! It would eat him alive! Or maybe just roast him to a crisp!

A strangle whimper of fear slips free when the Dragon roars again, making Akito stumble.

He had to get back to the mossy rocks! If he passes them than that meant the Dragon couldn't get him, right? That's what those rocks were really for! Keeping monsters like this Dragon out of town and in the forbidden zones!

"S-shit!" Akito trips, dropping his basket of flowers in the process, and scrambles back to his feet to continue running for his life.

His knees ached from where he scraped them from his fall and Akito could already feel fresh blood dripping down his legs as he ran. Ugh, why did he wear shorts today?!

The Dragon roars again, making Akito glance back to see how close it was. He let's out a startled cry when he sees the Dragon lunge at him!

Akito dives out the way, dodging the Dragon's lunge, but ends up tumbling down a steep hill he hadn't known was there!

By the time Akito made it to the bottom of the steep hill, he was covered in bruises and even more bloody scratches!

Akito shakily pushes himself up with a pained sound. He could feel blood dripping down scratches on his face and arms, and the scraps on his knees felt even worse now!

From up the hill Akito hears the Dragon roar again, making him register how he had to get moving or he'll die!

But it was too late. In seconds the Dragon was already down the hill and in front of Akito's injured form, growling and blowing out smoke menacingly.

The Dragon's dark, angry eyes strike a fear deep inside Akito, making him crawl back as quickly as he could, which wasn't far as his back hits a fallen tree.

Akito was close to crying now as the Dragon came closer and closer. His aching body was trembling as it clung onto the last moments of his adrenaline rush, and maybe his last moments.

Suddenly Akito remembers his mother telling him something as a child...

(Child!Akito giggles as he reaches out to touch the mossy rocks, but his mother stops him by gently grabbing his hand and pulling him back.

"Your curiousity is going to get you into trouble one day, Aki." She sighs as she pat child!Akito's head. "There's actually a saying for having too much curiousity you know."

"Really?" Child!Akito tilts his head, his eyes wide with innocence. "What is it?"

His mother smiles, but it wasn't the warm one she usually gave him. "Curiousity killed the cat Akito.")

'And now it was gonna kill me!' Akito's hands found the broken bark of the fallen tree, pushing as close as he could to it, hoping and praying the Dragon couldn't reach him!

Black, sharp, deadly claws curl around Akito, lifting him off the ground and up to the Dragon's snout where a few moments pass as Akito and the Dragon stared at one another.

Then the Dragon roars. It was mightly, loud, and ferocious! It made Akito cover his ears with a flinch, his eyes clentched shut in fear as hot air gushed passed him.

After it finishes roaring, Akito slowly cracks open an eye to see the Dragon was now looking at him closely, studying him, maybe even planning his death?

'I'm going to die, aren't I?' Akito felt a sob leave him as he the Dragon's claw squeezes him tighter.

His mind flashes to Mari who was still probably still sound asleep in their childhood home, innocently obivious to the fact her older brother was going to die, and silently apologizes to her.

"I'm so sorry Mari... I love you so much...'

Akito sags bonelessly in the Dragon's hold, ceasing his struggles and accepts his fate. If this was how he was going to die he might as well apologize to the Dragon as well...

With a shaky breath, Akito looks straight into the Dragon's angry eyes and- "I'm sorry."

The Dragon blinks at him, and slowly the anger in it's eyes disappeared as it continued staring almost confusingly at Akito.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I'm so, so very sorry..." Akito looks away from the Dragon and closes eyes, silently waiting for his death to come...

"Eh?" But instead of dying, Akito is slowly loward to the ground, and the moment his feet met ground, the Dragon released him.

The sudden freedom makes Akito stumble and fall to his bloody knees, making him cry out in pain. He quickly rolls onto his back and grips his knees with a pained whimper.

A sudden gust of hot air breaks Akito out his pain state and he looks up to see the Dragon had dipped it's head down so they were eye to eye.

It eyes Akito's bloody knees and does something unexpected. It begins to lick him.

With a surprised cry, Akito tries to move away, but the Dragon gently pins him down with a single claw, and continues licking his knees where something even stranger happens. His knees... they didn't hurt anymore!

Was the Dragon's saliva healing him?

Soon the Dragon moves it's licks up his body. Licking his arms and then his face, healing him of all wounds! All the while Akito stayed prefectly still, fearing if he moved to much the Dragon might change it's mind and eat him!

When the Dragon deemed him fully healed, it let's Akito go with a rumble and nudges him up the hill and back on the forest path.

Akito imediately takes this as his cue to leave. "T-Thank you for healing me a-and I'm sorry again for w-waking you up!" Akito nervously bows to the Dragon before darting down the path and leaving the massive beast behind him.

Akito doesn't stop running till he saw the familar mossy rocks marking the border, and once he passes them he knew he was safe again! He was out of the forbidden zone!

"I almost died..." Akito whispers, the weight of the whole situation coming down ono him. "I almost died."

He met a Dragon, got chased by it, and then it let him go. This was something straight out one of his fantasy books!

Out of breath, Akito stumbles into his home with a sigh of relief that quickly turned into a griamce when he remembered he was covered completely in Dragon saliva. He neede a bath!

"Akito?!" Mari's shrill voice startles him. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, her hurt foot propped up on a cushion.

"Where have you been?! And-" Mari scruches up her nose in disgust. "Ew! You smell awful!" She covers her nose and makes shooing motions at Akito. "Go take a bath mister! Then we'll talk!"

Akito sighs, running a hand through his saliva drenched hair. "Yes ma'am..."

[stormxpadme]

​Whumptober 2022 No. 23 - Tied to a table & “Hold them down.”

2035

This was … bad. This was potential knockout material.

From all Logan knew about this asshole keeping his family and him prisoner, the guy's fucked up methods had always easily matched even the ones of Logan's Weapon X torturers at the time, sure. But this, right here … wasn't just sick and fucking agonizing, not to mention the fact that his wife and his other two lovers had to watch with their own two eyes as some 200 years hundreds old mad scientist was cutting Logan open … It was also dangerous on a level Logan hadn't often run into trouble before.

  It should technically have been good news that at least, Essex hadn't slapped an inhibitor on him, unlike on Jean, Scott, and Scott's wife who were all frozen in shock in their respective cells, the only occupied ones in that lab rat track lining the operation theater from all sides, like some absurd arena. Being – unfortunately – as brilliant as he was clinically insane, that bastard was too smart to let someone possibly die on him that he wanted to use as a living weapon, shield and for his sick experiments to accelerate his comparatively low healing factor all at once.

  That didn't make the nauseating pain of a laser scalpel neatly peeling Logan open from his lower ribcage all the way down to his loins before the unforgiving, ice cold clamps of huge wound retractors started to keep his abused flesh from mending back in place, any easier to bare though. Moreover, judging by the way Logan started to feel dizzy from the enormous blood loss immediately, his voice, thankfully, too hoarse for any more screams after minutes already and not recovering immediately on its own … There had to be at least a weak kind of inhibitor radiation somewhere nearby. This little shit knew exactly what he was doing, and sadly, he had the means to achieve it, too. If none of them didn't come up with an idea to end this dicey situation as soon as possible, Logan doubted he would make it home from this captivity in the middle of their fucking beach holiday in one piece, if at all.

  "Oh, right. That." His enemy wasn't busy enough cutting through his organs in what felt like a completely random pattern to not notice the way, Logan's wide-open eyes were wandering through the room, searching the source for this compromised condition, between gagging on the bile, spit and blood that was dripping from his scream-split lips and gasping out chopped breaths through the all-consuming agony in the parts of his body not shielded by his Adamantium. "I think this is what you're looking for, Mister Howlett." His snow-white face the menacingly grinning grimace of a skeleton, Essex held up what he'd prepared behind him on a sterile table for this so-called revolutionary next surgery of his. Some metal device shaped in the same diamond form that was that asshole's goddam brand, sticking to his forehead like a blood mark. On the apparatus' shell, there was indeed not only the lazy red blinking of an inhibitor signal showing but also the golden and blue paneling of a radio signal receiver. "A masterpiece, if I may say myself. You see, the moment I find a suitable place for this feeder between your intestines, it will inject minuscule amounts of a toxin even lethal to a robust system like yours into your blood. With this remarkable healing factor of yours, of course, the damage from that concoction will be continuously repaired; I'm afraid you will be feeling its effects on a non-subtle level nonstop. I am confident that with this new beautiful piece in place, you and I will quickly come to an agreement about your services in my ranks. That is, unless you wish me to activate the crystal's internal inhibitor, the receiver range of which reaches far beyond this continent, I might add, and find out if you can use those fascinating weapons in your hands quickly enough on yourself to not perish to most unpleasant poisoning ... Or …" With a dramatic little swirl, Essex turned to the cell closest to the theater where Jean had sunk down to the ground, with her knees hugged close to her body, her face almost as white as her captor's, staring ahead entirely unmoving.

  A sight that was so much worse even than the gruesome pain leaving Logan to writhe in his Adamantium bonds hard enough for them to cut all the way through to the same alloy enwrapping his bones, a disgusting, screeching, clanking sound louder with every second this torture went on.

  And Essex very much obviously was in no hurry. "You do, of course, still have the option of asking your wife to comply with all of my requests and put an end to all this. You need to understand, Mister Howlett: My favorite research object over there, or his lowly classified spouse, I do not necessarily require for my current series of tests. And while you would make a beautiful addition to my rebuilt forces, I am a man true to my word when I enter an agreement. You two can put an end to this unappetizing episode anytime by giving me what I desire."

  Logan would have snorted if he hadn't been too busy coughing blood for that. He'd, fortunately, got to know his wife better in the course of the decades than to think she was even considering, no matter how far her soul had fled into complete apathy, helping what was one of the most dangerous and powerful enemies both of mutant- and mankind on this planet of all people to burst the mental chains around most of his abilities that Charles and Emma had once placed upon him, right after learning about the bastard's existence.

  Of course that had been before both Old Baldy and that Frost psycho had fucked up so badly that they had either gotten tired of justifying their bullshit on Earth and had rather left to fuck certain Empresses of planet-destroying alien Empires full-time or had had to be taken away from Earth with a mental equivalent of a prison shackle by force. Both of which had weakened that decades-old mental hold on that asshole so much that he'd managed to break free and restart his damn army and empire of labs and storages of medical data on mutants around the world. And he was long from being finished.

  So far, they'd all been lucky enough to not be hit with the full force of the guy's powers – which Logan seriously doubted they could have survived even if every super-powered being on this damn planet had worked together –, mostly, because everything that Essex had stolen in the course of the centuries from his countless examination objects, was still trapped in that jail of his own fucked up head. It was one of the few things, Logan reluctantly had to give Charles and his blonde partner-in-crime credit for, no matter how many manipulations, lies, and downright ethical crimes it had taken for the two of them to hide this part of their work from the rest of the world.

  Jean might not share all of Logan's animosities towards her old mentors, but there was no way in hell she would unleash this creature's full might back onto this world just to save Logan from slavery or worse, even if it would tear her sane mind and heart to pieces. Not her. Not she, who had been forced to do that very thing with another, more cosmic but just as insane being trying to destroy all life in the universe two times already. Something Jean had once told him after her first death pricked his increasingly dazed thoughts in spite of that relieving fog of threatening unconsciousness that promised, Logan would at least not have to feel the part of the procedure that might as well tear him away from his home and everyone he loved there for good. Something about fate ... Something about how Scott would not have been able to save Jean in Logan's place and that maybe the two of them had meant to be together from the start. As much as Logan cared for Jean's and his two part-time lovers, he could only find that his amazingly clever wife had been right once more.

  If it had been Scott, tied to this stretcher right now instead of standing completely still there in his cell, watching his arch-enemy with the blazing heat of a dying sun in his eyes but unable to unleash it from them … One of them would have broken, Jean or him. Simply because Scott's body, capable as it was, had not been equipped with the same gift as Logan's. Which meant, Jean wouldn't have had even the smallest hope that Logan knew her to be clinging to right now, even with their link rendered inactive, that she could have got him back, somehow, even if it took decades. Fate indeed.

  Essex seemed to tire of waiting for anyone to indulge his sick fantasies in silence and walked back to Logan's stretcher with something almost akin to a shrug, a surprisingly human notion for someone not even possessing the basic sense of empathy by nature and having no problem with that. "I was kind enough to offer. As I was saying: This device that I have been working on since I regained enough of my old strength to break free of the bonds that were …"

  Logan somehow managed to turn his head Scott's way in spite of the growing heaviness in his muscles and let out a cynical huff, which brought up what felt like half a liter of more fluids he couldn't tell any longer what they were, ending up in a decorative white and rust red puddle on the ground. He didn't expect them to be able to stop the guy from his most recent insane plan, but at least buying time had in the past more than once made a significant difference. Though admittedly not in situations like this when no one was missing them yet and even if they did, no one would be able to track them down, not with Jean's and Noemi's mental connection cut and Logan's and Noemi's bond being far too weak for such ambitious plans. But if there was one thing Logan had learned from the life by his wife's side, it was hope to the last desperate second because it had paid off more than once. And talking kept him from giving in to the roaring, livid rage of the animal that was his instincts inside because that wouldn't do any of them any good as long as his claws were stopped by Adamantium shackles while he was bleeding out and going into multiple shocks from pain and blood loss and croaking from organ failure all at once. "That guy always talking that much?"

  "I wouldn't know," Scott answered, surprisingly soberly for Logan being able to see even from over here that every single muscle of his body was tense. That he was only waiting for the chance to tear his oldest enemy to pieces, in spite of knowing just like the rest of them, even that would only be a temporary relief as long as Essex had his damn clones stationed everywhere on this damn planet and could telepathically transfer his whole mind to any of them within split seconds. Similar to Jean, Scott didn't waste energy, trying to fight someone a hundred times more powerful than him, unlike his wife next door who had been very grimly busy, ever since waking up from whatever tranquilizer they'd all been taken out with at the Caribbean, to manipulate the lock of her cell with hardly more than two nails and a hairpin, as if Essex wasn't even there. As if their enemy didn't just a wave of his weakened but still working telekinesis to shift all damage back into place. Right now, all they had on the asshole was words and spite, and sometimes that had to do. "Charles was nice enough to purge all that narcissistic pathos of his from my mind, as you know. Thank god for small favors." For someone who hadn't remembered Essex existed until five years ago and who, thanks to said installed barriers in his mind, still didn't know anything about him but what Emma occasionally penned down in a few e-mails from her increasingly fuzzy memory, Scott sure as fuck knew exactly how to play that asshole like a fiddle who'd been obsessed with him all his life.

  Essex didn't bother to let that gap in the size of the Rockies in Logan's midsection close but his device was forgotten for the moment when he approached his victims' cells with slow, stiff steps, his head held high, his teeth clenching so hard, Logan thought he could hear it even through the cotton covering his senses. "That's correct, young Mister Summers. Your former mentor was thoroughly making sure, your fragile mind doesn't lose itself to insanity before he could exploit your powers himself. The man you claim to have loved so much was only ever interested in what your body had to offer. Correct me if I'm wrong but did he not leave you without as much as a goodbye or lifting those barriers in your head?"

  Scott leaned against the cell door with an unbelievably bitter grin on his lips that Logan doubted he had to feign. "Right. Because you are haunting and torturing my family and me solely for our irresistible charm."

  Definitely a shrug this time. "Unlike your old puppet master, I was always honest about needing you for your gift. But I richly reward those who are mine. Were you not enslaved by Charles Xavier long enough, Scott? You know I always keep a spot for you vacant in the highest ranks of my army."

  Scott turned away coolly. "Thanks for the consideration, asshole. But I think I'm actually really good with knowing only scraps about you."

  Logan could swear he could see Essex' tall, strong shape shake in growing aggression that was so much unlike his usual detached demeanor for a moment. "Suit yourself, boy. With these class four telepaths so eager to protect your ignorance no longer around, I promise, you will no longer be able to forget about me." Abruptly turning away, the bastard stalked to one of the hall's dozen cabinets with instruments and came back with a long, thick pole that didn't look particularly dangerous at first sight … Not before one of Essex' hands turned into a harsh fist, his powers reshaping one end of the rod. His blurring sight didn't allow Logan to make out what the sicko was up to this time, not until Essex reached for one of his beloved laser scalpels next and heated his new tool, revealing its now orange glowing, smoking end to be of the same shape the asshole was wearing on his face. A lazy wave of hand later, one of the eerily human-shaped robots in this facility that Essex was commanding with his sheer mind stomped towards Scott's cell.

  At this point, the blood loss had become too grating for Logan to even keep his eyes open. He thankfully kept on drifting off, even the hole in his body at this point nothing but lethal emptiness, the turmoil of his emotions dazed too much to decide between dull admiration for his team leader's unwavering strength and frustration about the stupid stubbornness with which Scott had just earned himself a ticket on the agony coaster himself.

  But what Logan could make out easily still was that uncharacteristic loathing, hissed tone in Essex' voice that revealed Scott had indeed managed to land a blow himself for once. "Hold him down." That obviously meant, nothing had come from an unfair duel between a very well-trained but dehydrated and exhausted body and a metal shape twice its size with the strength to match.

  If Logan was lucky enough, he would pass out before he would have to hear the screams.

  He didn't hear Scott scream. He heard Scott's wife talk, for the first time since they'd all woken up in this moldy underground facility that could be anywhere from the equator to Atlantis for all they knew. "Revenge doesn’t become you, Essex."

  "Cat … don't." The provocative defiance gone instantly, Scott panted out his warning between groans of pain from whatever bruises the sparring against metal guy had left. With none of those links that Jean's abilities had created between all of them in the course of the years working right now, there weren't a lot of ways Scott could try to keep his not exactly-always-rational partner from some stupidity. Not that he was having a lot of success with that any other day.

  "Shut up, kitten," Logan somehow managed to grit out as well with what was left of his voice. Which wasn't a lot at this point.

  He doubted it would have made a difference if his lover had heard. "Non-procedural physical alterations, really? And here the woman who has put your ugly mug six feet under for decades won't get tired yapping about how you compartmentalize all your personal sensitivities away from your work."

  "I am not reciprocating," Essex returned stiffly, but Logan could hear the asshole had actually stopped on his way to Scott's cell again. When he somehow managed to pry his eyes open once more, he could see a clear hesitation in the way the bastard looked back and forth between the unruly prisoner that he hadn't even given a second glance to so far and his so much more loathed other victim. The pause lasted only for a moment before he straightened his posture again. "I am reclaiming what is mine so that we can all save ourselves these unpleasant encounters in the future. When we first met, you used to know I was inevitable, Scott. It will be easier for all of us if you never forget it again."

  "Really. Couple of PhDs, an M.D, the occasional pact with eon old assholes, and this is the best you can come up with." Katja wasn't finished yet, pissing someone off who could squash her like a damn fly, and Logan very much hoped that his favorite kitten knew what she was doing, because for once, none of them was in a good position to pull her fine ass out of trouble. One thing was for sure, she had been spending far more time reading those highly confidential little snippets of information on this bastard here that Emma occasionally sent them from her space exile than Katja would let on, more than one would expect, given that bitter enmity between her former mentor and her. "Hundreds of years spent in the shadow, making sure there's not a single trace you leave on your most prized jewel, because what good surgeon likes to give their patient scars … And now? You sure someone's not being a little petty here? What was that you used to tell people about cruelty for no purpose being ignorance?"

  "Oh, I have a very specific purpose in mind for the man that the two of us happen to share, my darling thunder angel." An ugly laugh came from Essex' lips, betraying all his usual noble claims about his only goal being the good of humanity and bringing it to salvation single-handedly. "But I am thinking, you might be right. A reminder to not resist serving science when I am calling might be a lot more effective when Mister Summers here is confronted with the consequences of his noncompliance every day henceforth."

  One half turn on his heel and a prompting snap of Essex later, robot guy had slammed Scott's resisting body back against the cell's back wall and shut the door, only to open the one right next to it. Huge, unforgiving hands grabbed Katja around her throat before she could even think of defending herself with her own long-trained athletic maneuvers, knocking the wind out of that terribly small and fragile-looking body by forcing it brutally against the cell's bars.

  A cut of a sharp-clawed metal finger later, Katja's top hung from her upper body in pieces. The fight of all that anger that had filled her enough a second ago to challenge one of the most powerful beings in this universe, left as quickly as it had come.

  Logan only realized that a new, weak surge of energy had revived his own cells when that ugly rattling of his wrist bones against his cuffs sounded once more, more rivulets of thick red dripping onto the dark-tiled ground, an unhinged growl on his lips that was nothing but a promise Essex' way.

  Though underlined with a lot less feral noises, spoken with almost scary emptiness instead, Scott left no doubt that his threat wasn't any less serious. "You lay hand on her, Essex, it's the last thing you'll be doing."

  "Maybe you should seek your former partner's assistance with restoring your memories about our common past, Mister Summers." The scornful glee was back in Essex' voice, leaving no doubt about how much this sick son of a bitch really enjoyed his sadism the moment he found a good enough excuse for it. "Then I would not have to remind you how much I dislike getting my hands dirty." His newly heated rod in his hand, not stopping for even another second, their enemy entered Katja's cell.

  Through the shadows in these parts of the room and the obstacle of the thick bars, not to mention the veils of tears and sweat and blood and exhaustion in his eyes, there wasn't a lot Logan could make out at this point.

  But when Katja's and his eyes did meet for a moment, there was not a hint of the fear, despair, and guilt suddenly in them that was radiating off every of Scott's cells, now that he had to watch his oldest enemy torture the love of his life … with a scenario like this happening for the second time. Only this time, Katja had consciously and willingly chosen it. That bitter triumph on her face didn't even vanish entirely when her scream filled the hollow echo of the room, along with the sickening smell of burnt flesh. This was exactly what she had been going for, and she was facing it with both eyes open like every other challenge in her life.

  Logan didn't get a lot of time to be proud of his kitten.

  Essex had only just left that cell again with a satisfied nod, leaving his prisoner in a trembling, curled-up heap on the floor when Logan's dampened hearing could pick up on the smallest, quietest click of metal from the direction of Scott's cell.

  Instead of withdrawing into her fears and grief as Logan had actually thought for ten dumb minutes, Jean had gathered whatever small hint of cosmic force she had kept behind in her cells after finally being parted from Dark Phoenix for good, to bypass the obstacle of her inhibitor collar, for being able to use her telekinesis on another one.

  Before the two halves of the broad metal band had even entirely fallen from Scott's neck, Sinister's current body was blown into a thousand pieces, followed by the one of the robot nearby and two more waiting in the operating theater's corners.

  With how completely unhinged at the seams his team leader obviously was, a dangerous glare of red still smoldering in his pupils even after the enemies had fallen, Logan had to give him as much exhausted credit as his failing thoughts could still come up with, for having enough wit left to first shoot the lock on Jean's cell to pieces before even blasting his own and then the one on Katja's door before rushing into that room, falling onto shaking knees to take his wife in his arms.

  Those two would be alright for the moment, Logan supposed, though they all certainly shouldn't sit around here for too long, wherever here was, before the next army of robots or possibly even some Marauders would come storming in here. It wasn't like he could have helped his lovers a lot right now anyway.

  With the well-known, professional touch, free of even the slightest tremble, of his wife on those cruel instruments in his body, the sickening tug and tear of pressure finally gone just seconds later … But then the real pain started, the animal inside breaking free with a hysteric scream from its leash, leaping forward, wiping every sane thought and emotion but revenge and defense out with pure adrenaline and hot, blind-red rage … Luckily for everyone in the room, the smallest twitch going through Logan's upper body when he instinctively tried to break free from his real bonds once more, had him black out.

     ***

    They must have gotten the most necessary hydration and sustenance into him in the time, however long it had taken the others to blast and shove their way free from whichever fortress of their enemy they'd been in this time. When Logan opened his eyes next, the usual unnerving nausea of missing ground under his feet and the calming, low hum of the Blackbird's engine soothed the last of feral wrath inside of him trying weakly to break free once more but being far too numbed for it from his body still plenty busy trying to repair itself.

  Jean's soft touch against his forehead, her gentle kiss against his too-dry lips did the rest to ground him back in reality. "Almost home. Wounds have all closed. A night on an IV, half of Hank's sugar stock, and a bottle of the good stuff or two, and you'll be fine."

  "Thank you, Red." Logan pulled her second hand that was holding his close for a brief kiss; that was all his still annoyingly weak muscles allowed for the moment. He needed her to know though, how proud he was of her. How grateful that this shitshow had ended before they could have been parted once more for only God knew how long. And for stepping in before a certain other ugly scene on the other side of the room could have become even worse. "The others?"

  Jean let out a sigh of the same resignation and tender admiration Logan remembered feeling for a certain member of their group earlier and nodded to the other side of the jet, the small figure laying there on the passenger bench on her stomach, nuzzling against the caress of her husband on the side of her face, her neck, far from where a huge bandage was covering her shoulder. "She learned a little too much from you for my taste."

  "It's not Logan's fault someone here still doesn't know their limits," Scott threw in unusually harshly, ignoring the astonished raised eyebrows from a certain blue furball and an aging Cajun in the cockpit, not pulling back when his wife winced a little but also leaving no doubt whom this anger was directed at right now. "Why …? What the fuck were you thinking, Katja?"

  "That you suffered from this madman enough," Katja gave back calmly, her voice, too, still rough from screaming and captivity, but free of any doubt.

  "And you shouldn’t have at all." Scott's free hand clenched in his suspiciously messy hair for a moment, another weak red tint in his sky-blue pupils revealing how much this captivity had really hurt him, in spite of walking away from it basically without a scratch. Especially because of that. "Neither of you. You should never have been dragged into this. I should have searched for him alone the moment Emma told me about him."

  "Where would you have started looking?" Jean tried to stifle these exhausting, useless new waves of self-flagellation that ran so deeply in this damn family before they could even arise. "Please, enlighten us. Tell us what we missed, what we lacked in our attempts to find something that Emma and Charles buried and burned all traces of decades ago, so thoroughly that Emma doesn't even remember herself."

  "I should have done something," Scott insisted, even moving away from his wife for a moment as if he'd feared that Katja's patient caress over his reddened cheek, the agitatedly working muscles of his neck could stop these self-destructive thoughts he sometimes liked to lose himself in so much as they were making the pain inside easier to bear. "Today should never have happened. What you all went through, what you had to see, Jean ..."

  "I didn’t." Only Jean's remarkably placid interruption finally had Scott stop, his head tilted in confusion. "It might have escaped your attention, but I was kind of busy. Like, with manipulating the lock of your collar with powers on a class 1 level. Or cutting Essex off from all his clones safe for the one he had ready as an escape this time."

  For long seconds, all of them were speechless. Even in the cockpit, no one was breathing.

  Logan's senses were still far too exhausted to make out a lot but to see that glistening suddenly shining in Scott's eyes, he didn't need them. He was pretty sure, their lover would have stormed over to kiss Jean senseless if Logan wasn't just doing that himself. "Sometimes I forget you were always the strongest of us," he murmured against her shoulder when she took him tightly in his arms, the soft touch of her hair, the faint smell of roses always lingering on her skin the necessary further input of affection and memory to drown out the last of agony and dread. "Why didn't you take the last one away from him too, though?"

  Jean showed a frustrated grimace and an apologetic shrug Scott's way. No, that had not been the last meeting with that son of a bitch yet. But for the first time in decades, hope was at least very justified that it would happen soon. "He would have got suspicious. I couldn't risk that he'd kill the ones among us he thought expendable in revenge. Or torture them further."

  "If he'd been gone forever then, that would have been a small price to pay." Though everyone looked at her with a good amount of irritation, Katja lowered her eyes just as little as when she had challenged Essex to keep his dirty paws off her husband earlier.

  Neither did Jean, though. "You're gonna have to leave choices like that to us, Cat. We all make our own sacrifices." She briefly nodded toward that undoubtedly very unsightly new mark on her lover's skin that would, thanks to the X-Men's resident mutant healer though, hopefully, be gone without a trace soon enough. In many respects, Essex still underestimated them a lot.

  "Scars are something I can deal with," Cat gave back quietly, with a weak grin as if she'd been in Logan's head for a moment. "Losing one of you? Not so much. So do me a favor, Claws … Make sure that asshole never gets you again. I can't promise I'll be that patient with him next time."

  "As long as I have anything to do with it, none of you will ever get anywhere near that bastard again. Especially not you, Katja," Scott stated quietly, a rest of regret and anger still thick in his voice that only vanished when his wife pulled him close for a tender kiss. As it turned out in that very same year still, boss man should once more be annoyingly right.

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

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive​

[the-night-birds]

Prologue

The night was long and treacherous, with the rain relentlessly pounding Harborton, a city notorious for its dangerous and dark streets. The sound of raindrops splattering on the pavement echoed through the empty alleys, creating an eerie atmosphere. People, caught off guard by the sudden downpour in the middle of the night, scurried for shelter to avoid getting drenched. Most shops and restaurants had already closed their doors, except for a handful of establishments that boasted of being open 24/7. However, lurking in the shadows were unknown creatures that growled menacingly, waiting for their prey. It was as if the rain had brought out the wild beasts that roamed the city, making the night more dangerous than ever before.

Perched atop the historic Eleison Tower, a figure bore witness to the city's rise and fall. Neither human nor corvid, he had feathers poking out of his long jet black hair, reaching up to his shoulders. His turtleneck vest had holes around his back and tailbone to accommodate his wings and tail. His talons, sharp as blades, glinted against the city skyline as he prepared for his next prey. A mask, shaped like a corvid’s beak, covered the lower half of his face. His violet, doe-shaped eyes were accentuated by black eyeshadow, which dripped down his mask in the rain. Long bangs covered his eyes and lent an unnerving quality to his slumped figure. Unfazed by the rain, his gaze was fixed on the city's chaos, taking in the criminals that turned the city into a lawless jungle at night. His mission was to stop them, driven by a desire for vengeance.

He was the last line of defense - the silent guardian watching over Harborton. His existence was a legend whispered in hushed tones, a myth to some, but a terrifying reality to those who dared to disrupt the city's peace. He was known only as 'the Crow'.

Beneath the menacing, gray skies, the rain continued its relentless assault on the city below. In the midst of this tempest, the Crow, the city's shadowy guardian, readied himself for the ordeal that was to come. His wings, wide and strong, spread out like a dark cloak, eager to cut through the storm. His heart pounded in rhythm with the falling rain, each droplet a note in a silent symphony of anticipation and dread.

This was the moment he had been waiting for, the time had finally come for him to take flight, to become the living nightmare of those who dared to terrorize the peaceful town of Harborton. With a swift and powerful leap, he plunged into the swirling tempest below, his silhouette disappearing into the inky blackness of the storm-ridden night.

Beneath the bustling city, in a train station nestled deep below ground level, an unexpected commotion begins to unfold. A local gang, notorious for stirring up trouble, finds themselves in the heart of a heated confrontation with an unsuspecting passerby. This random individual, who was merely navigating through the labyrinthine transit hub on what started as an ordinary day, suddenly finds themselves thrust into a situation teetering on the brink of chaos.

“Please… I didn’t do anything!” The man shrieks, tumbling backwards into a corner, his eyes filled with fear as he looks at the menacingly dressed gang members.

The gang members sneer at his pleas, their laughter echoing ominously in the near-empty station. The leader, a hulking figure with a grisly scar across his face, steps forward, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "Well, you're gonna leave unscathed if you hand over your wallet.”

“Yeah, and maybe your watch too,” jeers another gang member, pointing at the man's expensive-looking wristwatch. The terrified man can do nothing but stammer and fumble for his belongings, his hands trembling with fear.

Suddenly, a gust of wind whistles through the station, accompanied by the faint sound of flapping wings. All eyes turn towards the sudden noise, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and fear as they strain to see through the dimly lit station.

"What the hell was that?" murmurs one of the gang members softly, his hands trembling with fear. "It's coming from that dark entrance, right?”

Before anyone could respond, a dark figure emerged from the shadows, its silhouette barely discernible in the dim light. The figure towered over the gang members, a pair of piercing violet eyes visible beneath a crow-like mask. The sight was enough to send a shiver down their spines as they realized who — or what — they were dealing with.

"Oh god... it's him," the passerby whimpers, looking away as the Crow approaches slowly. His wings rustle in the cold wind.

"Get ready, boys. We've got company," the lupine gang leader growls, alerting his crew. His fearful eyes betray him. The Crow, perpetually silent, advances, ready to deliver justice. As he moves forward, the leader steps out cautiously, clutching his crowbar as he confronts the formidable figure before him.

"Who are you?" he growls, attempting to hide the tremor in his voice. "This isn't your business." The Crow's gaze is unyielding, his silence more intimidating than any weapon the gang possesses. Unimpressed by the lupine leader's bravado, The Crow’s eyes remain fixed on him. His cloak's feathers rustle as he draws nearer.

"For doom do I toll.." echoes the Crow's distorted yet haunting voice. The goons look at him, some feeling unsettled, while others remain indifferent. Yet, the Crow's gaze persists, gradually closing in like a predator on the prowl. “In shadows, I unfurl my role…” With each advancing step, his cloak reveals itself as large corvid wings, spreading out wide, their impressive wingspan seemingly shaking their very beings.

"Hey man... I think you should back off," says one of the goons, an elvish one. He and the others back away, trying to calm the werewolf. The werewolf snarls, escalating the tense situation, and the Crow reveals his sharp, talon-like claws, his voice shifting into a growl.

"With darkness... I console!" He shrieks, launching into an assault on the werewolf. He delivers forceful kicks and a flurry of punches, leaving the werewolf helpless. The werewolf struggles to retaliate as the Crow overwhelms him until he passes out. The other goons cower in fear as they see him collapse.

The Crow turns towards the goons, his tail ruffling. They rush him, but he pounces, knocking them off their feet with his wings. As they attempt to stand, he targets the elvish man, and they engage in a fistfight. The Crow is also injured, but he persists, grabbing the elvish goon by the legs and throwing him at the others. He leaps up, causing a gust of wind with his wings that pushes them away. They cry out in fear at the sight of his glowing eyes.

"Who is next?" He tilts his head menacingly, his eyes shining in the dark. The goons' bravado vanishes, replaced by a heavy silence that echoes off the station's walls. The Crow stands victorious, a grim sentinel of the night, his mission accomplished.

In the aftermath, the station is quiet except for the soft rustling of his wings and echoes of the gang's defeat. The passerby, once a terrified victim, now stands in awe of the Crow. He looks around at the unconscious bodies of the gang members scattered across the floor, then gathers his belongings. He gives the Crow a final, grateful look before leaving, leaving the Crow alone in the underground space.

With the station now quiet, the Crow surveyed the scene. Unconscious gang members served as a stark reminder of the city's lurking dangers. But for tonight, peace was restored. The Crow could return to his perch atop Eleison Tower, always watchful, always ready. He sighed and stretched his wings, preparing for flight. As the city’s silent guardian, he knew the night was far from over. More criminals to confront, more innocents to protect. From above, he observed the city line, his gaze lingering on his claws. His mind was full, yet all he could do was watch the bustling nightlife below, a sense of melancholy settling in as he observed.

"How long will this moment of peace linger on?" he murmured, his voice a whisper against the city's distant hum.

[roterhonig-archive]

Working through Marwan Kenzari’s filmography and what the fuck was Loft (2010). For real, the remake was enjoyable, clearly not as good as the original but Marwan Kenzari really pulled me out of the movie, it’s the biggest casting error I’ve seen in a long while.

Filip/Tommy is supposed to be that unhinged, really unsatable/could snap at any moment, overflowing with violence and anger kind of character. That’s the opposite of Kenzari’s strength in acting, here he’s really incontrol, nothing slips off his face, he looks more like a playboy than a dangerous man. When in the og Filip can barely stay in one place and can’t keep his impulsiveness in check here you get the sense he’s not phased by anything and in control of everything all the time. Even in the scene where Filip/Tommy is supposed to break down you don’t feel that angry edge and how deranged he is, in Tommy’s it’s just sad when that’s clearly not the goal for the character.

So far, out of the movies I’ve seen he’s casted for the wrong character way too much. Here he would have been so great as the psychatrist, soft skin and raw heart and righteous. And let’s be honest we all know why he gets casted for that and it just makes it so much more upsetting.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

Chaos is a Friend of Mine (2)

a/n: hello! here's the second chapter in the Chaos is a Friend of Mine series! I'm so happy you guys enjoyed it and I hope this part is just as good lol! this part is mostly backstory ie. one of the many reasons Y/N wants Moon Knight dead and some more cool power scenes; also because i have no self-restraint, i will be adding some details from other MCU projects. this is kind of a filler chapter?? more things will go down later taglist: @nyx-aira @musicconversedance @fantasttick @paymeinkash @beautifulbows924 @alexisabirdie word count: 1.4k (.i'm sorry this addition is shorter!) warning(s): mentions of murder (and descriptions of murder); weird timeline issues; changing POVs; reader sipping a bit of the crazy juice; picture not mine; google translated spanish (im so sorry); hey guess what, since you're a marvel villain - you get some ✨trauma✨; use of Y/N

a/n: hey guys this first part is a flashback and you are nine years old

You knew something was wrong when they didn’t find you. The house was too quiet, normally your parents would make their footsteps loud, making you giggle as they pretended to not know where you were. You were confused. Why would they start a game of hide-and-seek, then stop playing?

You slowly stepped out of the cabinet, the one in the far corner of your father’s study, and listened for any sound. There was shuffling across the hall, fast, like someone was running away. The doorknob to the study twisted slightly before it happened. The sound you’ll never be able to wipe from your mind.  It was your father’s cry of pain, quiet and raspy, like his lungs had given out. Something hit the door and you watched as blood seeped under the doorway, flowing like a river of red across the wood floor. You pressed yourself against the wall, closing your eyes and counting to ten, like your mother taught you. This wasn’t real. You were dreaming, having a nightmare. There was no blood on the floor, no red surrounding you. No red. No blood. You were fine. You were going to open the door, forfeit the game of hide-and-go-seek and ask to watch cartoons with your parents. 

You started to shake. No red. No red. No red. You slid down the wall, hand over your mouth as the blood got closer, the screams got louder, the footsteps got closer. The office door burst open, your father’s body falling to the ground. You screamed. A blur shot through the entrance, coming to stand in front of you menacingly. You felt like you would never stop screaming, your heart racing inside your chest as you faced the figure. A man clad in white linen, wrapped around him like a mummy wearing armor. His eyes glowed like the moon under his hood and in his hand he held a crescent shaped dagger, dripping with blood. Your fathers blood. Red. Red. Red. The hooded man raised the dagger, hesitating before looking towards the side. In a split second, a second that your psychologists would tell you was a hallucination, you saw a tall figure with the head of a bird skull, holding a staff. He nodded towards the hooded man and you felt your body go cold. 

A nine year old should never have to see what happened next. 

Your mother shot through the doorway, a lamp in her hand. She caught the man off guard, hitting him over the head with the ceramic. You scrambled to the corner, as red started to flow again. The man stumbled to the side as your mother turned towards you. 

“Y/N, you need to leave! Go to your aunts house, she’ll take you in-” She never finished her sentence. A crescent shaped stain spread on her shirt, a hand ripping backwards, her body falling to the ground. The hooded man looked at you, his gaze freezing you to your spot. He started to move towards you, the dagger dripping with the blood of your parents antagonizing you. 

“Little Y/N, I’m sorry you had to see this, but don’t worry, you will join them in the Field of Reeds shortly.” A second passed where you almost let him take your life. You could join your parents. But a thought crossed your mind, why join them when you could avenge them? In a moment, like an instinct, you fiddled with the necklace your mother had given you - a charm she had called a was-scepter growing warmth between your fingers. You thrust your arms outward, as the man moved to give the last blow, sending him flying backwards. You picked up a piece of ceramic, the shard splitting your skin with how hard you gripped it. You stabbed the man’s leg, watching as red stained his white. A smile grew over your face but fell as you watched the wound heal. Screaming, you repeatedly stabbed the man all over, tears blurring your vision, red filling the room, before you were pushed backwards. The man broke the window above your father’s desk, jumping through the shattered glass. The moon glowed brightly, mocking you. You closed your eyes, counted to ten, like your mother taught you. All a nightmare. Not real. No red. But when you opened them, you were burdened with reality. You collapsed in the space between your parents' bodies, sobs racking your body as you rocked back and forth, shaking your head. 

“No red, no red, no red.” 

That’s how the police found you. A young girl, shaking in the pool of her parents blood, hands split open, eyes clouded over in denial. For you, everything that happened next was a blur. Except for him. A man in a dark suit, his hair braided long and decorated with jewels glinting under the star light. He wore a necklace, a was-scepter charm sparkling as he smiled at you, holding his hand out. A feeling of safety overcame you and you took his hand, disappearing from the precinct. 

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

Layla sat on the hotel bed, her hands shaking as she cleaned her knives. The news played on the TV, showing videos of sandstorms ravaging across the Eastern Hemisphere. People running through the streets, their eyes glossed over. She was following them, making sure to let Khonshu know she knew where they were. Marc was in the bathroom, leaning over the sink as he watched Steven’s reflection stare back at him. He opened the medicine cabinet, which had a mirror on the inside, hesitantly watching as another expression appeared. 

“¡Por fin!” The reflection spoke, an exasperated expression on his face, “I’m Jake, nice to meet you, now why did you idiots have to go and screw things up?” Marc and Steven stayed stunned, looking at each other before both shrugging. Jake sighed. 

“We had a good gig, didn’t we? I wore the suit, did all the fun murder, and you guys got to live your perfect lives. Now I have to share the murder.” He said the last part under his breath, annoyed. Steven was about to respond when Layla called out. 

“Marc! Steven!” her tone indicated what was happening. Jake rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever, we can do this later.” Marc looked at Steven, pointing behind him. 

“Do you want to..?” Steven shook his head. 

“Naw, mate. I’m good.” Marc sighed, running a hand through his hair as he walked out of the bathroom, pausing at what he saw. Layla looked at him then towards the corner, where Khonshu now stood. 

“She’s here.” Layla said solemnly as the group watched sand swirl around the hotel building, becoming so thick that the night sky was blocked. The building shook, dark stains like cracks started to fill the walls. They could hear screaming down below, echoing through the air. A figure stepped through the sand, walking slowly, like a predator approaching prey. Her eyes glowed with fire as she smirked. Giggling hysterically, she bit her lip, staring at Khonshu. 

“Found you.”

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

You thrived off the fear on their faces. Sighing, faking disappointment, you put your hands in the pockets of your suit pants, prowling the room. 

“You know, I thought you would be better at hiding. Make it a fun hunt for me.” You picked up one of Layla’s daggers from the bed, inspecting it. You threw the dagger at the wall, causing Marc and Layla to jump. You glared at the moon god, your eyes burning with hate. 

“Why won’t you let me have my fun?” You snarled, the shaking intensifying with your anger. Khonshu stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re treating this like a game? People are dying, innocents, at your hands and you stand there complaining we’re not following your rules?” He yelled, but you stood there indifferent. You rolled your eyes before adjusting your suit jacket and spreading your arms wide, a dark smile forming on your lips. 

“Oh but Khonshu, don’t you know? This is a game,” You started laughing hysterically, the sand swirling around the building moving faster, becoming a cyclone. You stopped laughing, looking down. You looked at Khonshu, your dark gaze sending chills down the gods spine. 

“We’re playing hide-and-seek, dear Khonshu,” you said in a sweet tone, the cyclone of sand falling down below, flooding the streets, tearing apart cars, taking over the bones of people running away. You laughed darkly as the moon shone into the room. 

“Oh, there’s going to be so much red.”