#he did a headcount instead of screaming

[watchyourbuck]

I don’t ever wanna hear anybody say that Firefighter Buckley doesn’t have leadership skills,,, that man single-handedly saved the entire 118 then went home and delivered a baby ???????

[aureutr]

Cloudburst

(today's prompt from the Star Dads server)

Din sat at a small table in the Yavin IV temple, cleaning his blaster, when the screaming started. He had been here long enough that his only reaction was to glance up, not reach for the nearest functional weapon. Padawans in soaking wet robes came racing into the temple, shrieks mixing with laughter. He chuffed to himself, pocketed the power source of his blaster to keep a curious child from picking it up, and stood.

“Meditation session get interrupted?” he asked. His vocoder dampened the amusement in his voice but smiling faces turned up at him nonetheless.

“It’s rainin’ hard, Ba’vodu Din!” La’sara, a young Twi’lek girl said. She shook her head and her lekku whipped back and forth, spraying the other initiates with a fresh burst of water and setting off another round of shouting.

Din did a quick headcount and noted that they were three short. The three he would expect to be missing, if he were honest with himself.

“Go get dried off, it’s close enough to snack time.” He started to walk to the door, but paused before he reached it. “And don’t touch what’s on that table.”

A chorus of disjoined affirmations followed him out the door.

It wasn’t far to the clearing that Luke favored for group meditation. Din had no trouble seeing through the rain, his visor was treated to repel water. He heard laughter and singing before he parted the last set of branches, revealing concentric circles of stones. Each was flat on top, carefully chosen for their use as seats for meditation.

Luke was in the center of the clearing, bent at the waist and holding hands with a tiny human girl. They were singing something in a language Din did not speak, turning in an ungainly circle of a dance. Grogu was on Luke’s shoulders, grasping tiny fistfuls of wet blond hair. On a particularly wide turn he lifted the girl off her feet, drawing a fresh shriek of laughter, and caught Din’s eye.

“Din!” he swept the child up and onto one hip, ending the game. The rain stopped just as suddenly, as if the sky had been waiting on Luke’s cue to end the downpour.

Din opened his mouth to admonish Luke for letting the tiny children stay out in the rain, but clicked it closed when he realized what was happening.

“Was that Rey’s first rain?” he asked instead.

“Rain!” Rey confirmed. She was perhaps five, she did not know and they were not sure, and Luke had found her on Jakku only a few weeks previously.

“Yes!” Luke had the ability to appear to glow even with hair plastered down his forehead and robes hanging lank off of him. “And it’s tradition, on Tatooine, if you ever are blessed with even a moment of rain that you celebrate it.”

Grogu made grabby hands for his buir, and Din obliged. He held their son with one arm and wrapped the other around Luke’s waist.

“Well we can’t break tradition, now can we?” he asked.

“Brrm!” Grogu confirmed. Luke and Rey laughed again.

“Let’s go inside before the others tear the walls down,” Luke said. He turned toward Din and pushed up on his toes so he could press their foreheads together.

“Me too!” Rey slapped at her own forehead, demanding.

When Luke shifted her so that she could reach their keldabe kiss, Din did the same with Grogu before he could begin to fuss. They stayed there for only a moment before returning to the other students.

They really would bring the temple down if left alone for too long.

[slashedthroughtheheart]

Waiting for the right one

It had been 3 months since you first arrived in this place. You’d tried your hand at learning how to be a proper survivor at first before you’d truly known how the place operated. Before you knew that the survivors could leave the campfire.

You’d seen Nea sneak off when no one was looking. You’d been fairly quiet, trying to figure out where exactly you’d end up in this social hierarchy. Your nose wrinkled whenever one of these useless alpha’s tried to get closer to you while asking their invasive questions.

It was no secret that heats and ruts still happened. There was only a few omegas in the entity’s realm, and almost all of them were survivors. There was that one girl that ran with Legion that smelled vaguely like an omega, but there was talk that maybe she was a rare ometa. A hybrid of beta and omega. Granted, no one could get close, the other 3 Legion members always nearby and quickly closed ranks whenever anyone, killer or survivor alike, got too close for comfort.

They were a tight knit pack, it seemed.

When you’d arrived, you had expected a few of the girls to be omegas because of their size. You’d thought for sure the girl who introduced herself as Feng Min was going to be an omega, but only the pleasant scent of a beta washed over you when she came close to pat your shoulder after you appeared in the fog close to the campfire.

Over those first few hours, you found out that out of all the survivors, there was only 3 other omegas besides you. Nea was one, but her thinness had made you think beta at first. But you guessed she had a hard life before coming here, and being here was also hard, so there was no time to build up the softness that you’d always associated with omegas.

The one girl you’d been so sure would be an omega, Jane, had surprised you by being an alpha. She wore a smart, but slightly dirty, business suit. She looked very chic and savvy, and her hips and chest had made you think she was for sure going to be an omega. But you should have known better when she almost swaggered over to you with Feng Min to introduce herself, and then you to the rest of the people around the campfire.

You took a quick headcount, seeing how many people you were now lost with. You came up with 21 besides you, and figured that was that. So when you’d been halfway through the name introductions, with Feng sticking to one side of you, releasing calming beta pheromones to help ease your discomfort at not knowing where you’d been taken to, you were surprised when 4 more people walked out of the fog.

“Ah, and here’s our fearless leader! Dwight, we’ve got a new girl! An omega too! Careful, or she might just take yer spot.” Ace, a rather boisterous but slimy alpha smacked the one man who’d returned with the group of girls.

He had glasses, and kinda short dark hair. He seemed to be in office attire, and he screamed nervous omega as he wrung his hands in front of himself as Ace manhandled him over to where you stood.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the overwhelming scent of anxious omega wafted in the air. He’d managed to not stutter when he said a polite hello while rubbing the back of his neck, eyes not making it all the way to you, instead staring off to the side by your shoulder.

You’d simply nodded, unsure of what was going on, or why an omega was the ‘leader’ of this.. pack? You’d tried to listen to that first 5 minute explanation from a fast talking Feng, telling you they were all survivors and that they went into trials against killers and had to escape over and over again. You really did. You didn’t understand what they meant. Why were they just sitting around a campfire instead of trying to escape if there were killers loose?

You’d always been a bit different for an omega, making it later in life and only ever taking beta friends as help during your heats, never mating to an alpha. None of them ever managed to impress you, and you only agreed to the help from your beta friends because they promised not to catch feelings or try to push you into anything. They knew you wanted an alpha, and they knew how picky you were. They just didn’t like you suffering for so long through your heats with no relief in sight.

You were grateful to them, truly. It was treated as a necessary biological function by you, one that was annoying as hell when you just couldn’t find the right alpha for yourself.

Plenty had tried, coming into your personal space just oozing horny pheromones and trying to sway you that way. And the response was always the same. A very rankled omega telling them to piss off before they got authorities involved.

And no matter how interested an alpha was, the sheer lack of omegas in more recent decades gave them a lot more protection. If an omega didn’t want an alpha’s advances, the authorities as well as majority populace would stand behind the omega.

And just one time was all it took. One time an alpha kept pushing after you’d refused him.

He’d smelled almost sour to you from the get go. Skeevy through and through. He’d gone so far as to try and box you in against the wall closest to you, arm going up above your head as he leaned down to leer at you, grin lascivious as he eyed you.

Your friends had insisted on the defense lessons, knowing you were so picky about alphas and that some were just too dense for your own good.

Something in you snapped.

Red overtook you. Fury at the audacity of this alpha overstepping his bounds. Rage that no alpha had approached you properly. Shown you they were good enough to be your alpha. Shown you they could take care of you properly. None were strong enough, in command enough, sure enough of themselves without having to throw their scent around. It wasn’t them that was their strength. They always relied on their scent alone. None walked like it was them before their scent that held the power.

He wasn’t good enough, and he wasn’t taking the no gracefully.

You shook, hands balling into fists while the white hot fury spread from your breastbone out to every extremity. Every pore of your body filled with your indignity at your treatment. At the incompetence of all the alphas you’d ever met.

You almost blacked out during the interaction, but instead you almost watched yourself go through the encounter as if in a trance and looking back on a memory.

The crunch of his nose had been satisfying. His cry of pain fueled you, pushed you forward and let you know that you could do this. You were stronger than he thought. Smarter. More determined.

He choked with the hit to his throat, staggering away from you and almost falling to the side, trying to get away from your rain of fury.

When you had taken the first step to follow him, to take out your rage of years of mediocre alphas trying to posture you into things you didn’t want, the fog had rolled in out of nowhere. It had come from behind, billowing forward around your legs and going up to engulf all of you as you took your second step, so focused on getting to the prone alpha scrambling away from you in fear that you didn’t notice until the fog reached your shoulders.

And in your trance, you didn’t panic when the fog fully swallowed you up.

The cloying darkness seemed to last for so long, long enough that your anger dissipated and you were left confused and slightly anxious as the world seemed to stop existing, and you were lost to this void of roiling blackness. It was so dark, but there still seemed to be movement like smoke moving lazily about.

You couldn’t tell when or if you blinked or closed your eyes. All senses were shockingly both over and under stimulated. The silence deafening. The only scent your own slow rising panic stinging your nose. Your hands reached out, you think, but you could not see them. You could not feel anything unless you tried to grab yourself. And even then, it felt muted, like you were dreaming but not.

We’re you walking somewhere? You think you were telling your legs to move, but without being able to see, and feeling so weightless, you couldn’t be sure.

It felt like both a lot and no time at all had passed when you suddenly felt solid ground under your feet.

You wobbled a bit, disoriented by the sudden information reaching your brain. You couldn’t see even when your feet were touching ground. You held your hands out, trying to find anything, and jumped a little when your hand connected with something hard and rough. It scraped at your hand, causing you to grunt at the small discomfort.

You realized your hearing was back. You hadn’t been able to even hear your own breathing, and you swore you called out while in that darkness that had clung to every part of you just earlier.

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed at first, shut tight against the darkness you had been afraid of.

“Hey! There’s a girl!” a higher feminine voice startled you into opening your eyes. People, you weren’t alone anymore. Maybe they could help you.

You were slightly dizzy from the transition of not being able to see even when your eyes were open, floating in the abyss that had seemed to douse all your senses.

What you had scraped your hand on was a thick tree trunk off to your left just a bit, visible to you despite the gloom pressing from all around. Compared to what you just experienced, it was bright out.

And that’s how you came to the entity’s realm. Confused and scared after finally snapping and attacking an alpha that tried to put his hands on you.

You’d been pulled towards the campfire, sat on a log between the soothing beta Feng and the other omega besides Dwight that had come from the fog. Her name was Cheryl and she did her best to help Feng try to calm your rattled nerves.

Everyone at least sympathized with you on being scared after first coming out of the fog. For some, that meant they tried to calm you down like the two had been by your side around the campfire. For others, the nicety ran out at giving you space your first day of being there.

Ace had been the first to try to proposition you, saying in such a weaselly way that you smelled mighty fine and the two of you would make quite the pair.

Your immediate refusal and disgusted face had been the turning point in his attitude towards you. While he wasn’t outwardly hostile towards you, you found yourself having to rely on the other 2 survivors to unhook you if you were caught when you went into trials with him.

He went to acting like you didn’t even exist around the fire whenever the both of you weren’t in trial. Everyone pretended not to notice, and some of the more gentle survivors would offer you a wincing smile whenever you were paired with him in trials.

After that first encounter with him, the others noted you withdrew in on yourself a lot, not even wanting Feng or Cheryl to offer their comfort or presence to you.

You’d retreated from the logs after the first trial that Ace had left you to die on hook after you’d been caught unaware by a silent man with a white mask. You were told after regenerating near the campfire that the killer you’d faced was known as the Shape, but everyone referred to him as Michael Myers, or in David’s case ‘Big silent bastard’.

And while David had never tried to approach you, you knew without a doubt he was an alpha that’s power came from his scent and not himself, despite professing a brawling background. Sure, someone could be a fighter. But did they have power all their own? David did not. None of the alphas present did, in your opinion.

And the slow understanding you gained of your situation opened your eyes to the survivor alphas being absolutely weak and pathetic in your eyes. They’d given in to being a pawn, a plaything for the entity and the killers alike. While David was the closest to being the least useless alpha, your nose still wrinkled at his use of scent to try to ward off the beta killers and to posture at the alpha ones.

The only survivors you truly respected, truly thought were worth your time to talk to were Laurie and Yui. Laurie taught you after a while how to use a shard of glass you could keep tucked somewhere on your person to stun the killers into dropping you if they’d managed to grab you.

Yui taught you how to lift a pallet after dropping it. The words ‘Hit ‘em with everything you got, then do it again.’ resonated with you so strongly, that even if it wasn’t on the same level as stabbing your captor like Laurie, it still made her stand out compared to the rest of the survivors who were barely more than worms, fearfully eking out an existence around the campfire.

It felt like they were the only ones not just struggling for their lives like everyone else, but truly fighting back.

And if Elodie wasn’t so complacent in being sneaky, her showing you how to pull a pallet down while being carried by the killer would have put her in the pool of respectable survivors.

In your first two months, you learned very little outside of what the killers were called and how they could hurt and kill you in matches.

You noticed only whenever they had managed to catch you if the killer was an alpha or a beta.

And in those first two months, you had thought you’d met all the killers in trials.

There had been another new girl, a beta, right before you. Her name was Yun-Jin, and she kept her distance from everyone just like you did, but you had a feeling it was for different reasons than your own. She looked at everyone with a shrewdness in her expression. Like she knew something no one else did, and she knew how to use the information she had.

You had no doubt she’d sacrifice any single survivor there if it meant saving her own hide. And while self-preservation was an understandable thing, you didn’t agree with the methods of stepping on someone else to do it.

Sure, you held disdain for any of the alphas in the group, but you don’t think you’d go out of your way to use them if it meant your own safety. You may have purposefully blocked Ace once when he’d wanted to keep running and go through a building while in a chase with the Killer, but you’d played it off as being scared and thought the heartbeat had been coming from somewhere else.

No one said anything about it, but some of the survivors were a bit more wary of being near you in trials after that. They couldn’t prove you’d done it on purpose, and Ace hadn’t said anything besides ‘You blocked me in that last trial and it got me caught.’ It seems he had accepted your lie, or deemed it not worth fighting over. Maybe he was scared if he pushed the issue, you’d bring up how he purposefully let you die on hook that one time, and how he ignored you hooked every match now.

Either way, you drifted further and further from the group. It only took a week before you stopped sitting on the logs around the campfire after the Ace incident. Standing in the close treeline around the fire.

And then it went further, you retreated farther from the comforting light. Taking solace in the solitude while sitting at the base of a tree a good 30 or 40 feet from the campfire. It seemed that for the most part, no one ventured quite as far as you did.

Until you saw Nea sneak away.

And she went even further than you.

You’d followed just a bit, curious at how far she’d go, so you tried to keep a line of sight on her.

And as you maneuvered to get line of sight, you crossed path with the trail of scent she left behind. It was stronger than normal, and you had a realization that she was sneaking away because she was going into heat.

You wondered for a moment if she was just going to suffer out in the woods alone instead of turning to one of the alphas or betas in camp. But then, as you continued to follow at a good distance, you noticed the forest thinning out, and the walls of one of the realms come into sight.

Flabbergasted that the realms you did trials in were able to be gotten to from the campfire, you stood out in the open amidst the thinned out trees, just staring at the walls with a growing sense of agitation.

Why had no one told you that you could truly leave the campfire?

Surely Nea wasn’t the only one who knew this information. Someone else, anyone else, had to have noticed her absence from the campfire and have done just as you had. There’s no way at least one other person didn’t know.

You don’t know why this upset you, but it did.

And now you faced a predicament. You wanted to keep following all the way into the realm. You weren’t sure which place it was, but you wanted to know. You wanted to see. You wanted to know if all the realms could be found.

The only thing that had you hesitating was running into Nea, or one of the killers. You didn’t know if Nea was actually allowed to be here, considering she did sneak away in the first place. So you didn’t know if you were allowed. What if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials too? What if entering their realms gave them power over you?

Indecision gripped you for a few long moments, curiosity warring with it inside your mind.

You stood, one foot slightly lifted off the ground as if to take a step back towards the campfire, but after finally throwing caution to the wind, you turned back towards the entrance of the realm, boldly striding in.

If you weren’t meant to be there, it was probably better to act like you weren’t sneaking around and then plead ignorance than be caught sneaking.

It was a slim chance at safety, but you reasoned with yourself that the survivors would be way more scared around the campfire if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials.

So you walked in like you owned the place. Like you were meant to be there.

And upon entering Glenvale, you were surprised that it looked different than when you were here in a trial.

None of the buzzards were picking at long dead flesh. No hooks to be seen.

In fact, it’s like it was what you assumed the actual Glenvale looked like in real life and not the horrific replica that you traipsed around in during trials.

There even seemed to be a sense of warmth to the area, as if it was only just reaching sunset. It was nothing like the gloom hanging around campfire.

You were immediately drawn to it, furious that this existed and you hadn’t know about it until just now. And even if you weren’t supposed to be here, even if some killer came out and told you off for being here, you’d tell them off right back and demand to be let in. You didn’t want to sit with those worms content to be around a measly little campfire when there was this right here.

You looked around, sizing up all the restored buildings around you. You figured if the trials were anything to go by, the saloon would probably be where anyone would be.

And you had questions you wanted answered. Either by Nea, or whoever else might be here.

And so you walked forward, with even more purpose and determination in your step now. You could hear from the street that there was life inside of the saloon. Couldn’t see anyone or anything really from it, but you could hear the low murmur that indicated chatting. That could be someone having caught Nea, but you doubted it from the relaxed tone of it.

You couldn’t hear much until you almost made it to the steps. Once you finally made it to the front of the saloon, looking up the steps and to the swinging doors, you listened out to try to figure out who was talking.

The voices weren’t familiar in the slightest, and there was at least 3 distinct male voices from what you could tell. One was high and nasally, another a bit lower, and the last was hardly anything more than bass.

You didn’t hear Nea, which did make your anxiety kick up just a bit. But before you could second guess yourself and talk yourself out of going in, you marched up the steps, determined to get answers.

Although, your anxiety did have you more gingerly opening just one of the swinging doors rather than making a loud entrance by bursting in through both.

And you were glad for it, because even with your much quieter entrance, the conversation inside still died as all eyes in the saloon landed on you and stared.

Your nerve was tested, as you looked back at a room just absolutely full of killers. Almost every table without an open chair.

It felt like forever, the quiet staring match lasting so long in your head even though it was really only a few seconds before you steeled your resolve with a small breath in before walking further forward.

“I have some questions. First, why the fuck did no one tell me these places existed outside of trials?” At your words and attitude, a few of the killers blinked and then looked around at each other. One in particular, one of the alpha ones you’d gone head to head with a few times since coming here, stood.

“Hey now little lady, ain’t no reason to get cross with us. Ain’t like we can come on over to your cozy little campfire and just chat you up.” At this, one of the smaller killers pipes in, the one with the garish mask and dark clothes. “Not that we didn’t wanna, what with you being one fine piece of ass.”

The big guy who’d stood up, the one you’d been told was the Trapper, grunted at the interruption and turned his head slightly and barked out a harsh “Danny.” sufficiently cowing the smaller man, who held his hands up and went “Woah, just giving the girl a compliment, jeez.”

At his mutterings, the Trapper let out another grunt, this one lower and even more of a warning than his word had been.

At this, the other folded his arms, making a ‘tch’ noise before grumbling out a barely audible “Fine, whatever.”

You prickled at both what the big guy and the smaller guy said. “Cozy? That’s what you wanna call that dreary little shithole?” Irritation at the whole situation making you a lot more angry than you’d been when first entering, making your attitude flare up.

You watched while the trapper reached up, hand slipping under his mask he still wore, like he was wiping at his face exasperatedly.

“Listen, we don’t want no trouble with you, alright? What are your other questions you had? You got the answer to your first one, so what else can I answer for ya, little survivor?” He crossed his arms, but kept his whole body relaxed like he was purposefully trying to appear non-threatening despite his obvious irritation.

You crossed your own arms, foot tapping, showing your own frustration.

“Well, why do you all get to be here, but survivors don’t?”

At this he lets out a low chuckle, the irritation bleeding away a bit. “Well, you’re standing here, ain’t cha?”

This caught you off guard a bit. So you were allowed to be here?

You ventured into the next question a bit more cautiously. “Where’s Nea?”

It wasn’t the exact question you’d wanted to ask, but if survivors were allowed to be here, then Nea was here while they knew about it. Probably seeking relief for her heat with one of the killers, since so many of them were gathered here.

This one seemed to throw the big man off though. “She ain’t here. Ain’t been by at all, s’far as I know. Did you follow her here then? Is that how you found this place?”

You gave a small nod. “She snuck away from the campfire, don’t blame her. Most everyone there is a pathetic alpha or a scared beta. I thought she’d come in here, considering…” you stopped talking as you realized maybe it wasn’t a good idea to reveal Nea was going into heat to the killers who didn’t know she had come here.

“Considering?” He prompted you after you trailed off, and you gestured vaguely. “Considering this is like… the main building?” You hoped that would be enough to cover your blunder, but somehow doubted it.

He stood still for a moment more, before letting his arms fall to his sides. “Well, she ain’t been through here in a while, maybe she came to meet up with someone or to just hide away in one of the outer buildings. Ain’t my business what she does as long as it doesn’t hurt one of mine.”

You almost snorted at that thought, but managed to just make a derisive face instead. “Right, because we could totally hurt one of you if given the chance. Totally.”

Thankfully your snark garnered you a laugh from the big man while the rest of the saloon slowly picked up their forgotten conversations, everyone seemingly able to pick up the atmosphere all at the same time.

“More so than you think, little survivor.” He turned, while doing a follow motion as he went back to the table he’d stood up from.

“C’mon, might as well get to know ya, since I get the feeling you’re gonna be underfoot from here on out.”

And so the last month went by, you getting to know and spend more time with most of the killers. They generally tolerated your presence, some more welcoming than others. The Trapper, who’d introduced himself as Evan, was probably the most amiable towards you.

He didn’t step over any boundaries, but it also seemed he showed no true interest in you. Part of you was disappointed, since he seemed to be the only alpha in attendance that was anywhere close to interesting to you. But the other part knew that if he wasn’t interested, then he wasn’t what you really wanted anyways.

Danny, who you had known as Ghostface, had tried to proposition you when Evan had gotten up to go into a trial, but you quickly turned him down, trying your best not to sneer at him now that the only killer you had felt for sure would protect you was gone.

He had accepted your refusal with a bit more grace than you expected, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d target you in trials for it like Ace ignored you for the refusal you’d given him.

And at your swift refusal of Danny, most the killers assumed you just weren’t interested period, thankfully.

You went on doing trials day in and day out, not that there ever seemed to be a visual passage of time. The entity seemed pleased with your efforts, rewarding you with new clothes here and there, and gifting you tools to use in the trials that would make them just a bit easier.

Now that you’d gotten to spend some time with the killers, you’d quietly learned some of their quirks. Your observation skills were fairly good after a lifetime of sizing up alphas who approached you.

You escaped trials more often than not, currying the entities favor easily and earning you a small reputation of being a slippery survivor among both groups.

And just as you resigned yourself to forever being alone, knowing that escaping the entities clutches was nigh impossible, you finally got placed in a trial with the killer you’d only heard about from the survivors at this point. You only knew a vague physical description of a flashy male killer that was all about showmanship.

He’d yet to show up to the saloon in your time of visiting it. You wondered if it was just always missing him when you came around, or if he just didn’t hang around with anyone else.

The trial started off easy enough, you started solo near a gen that had a chest nearby, gaining a rather nice toolbox that helped you finish off the first gen quickly before anyone even got hurt.

You strained your hearing as you carefully picked your way through the realm to the next gen you could see. So far there hadn’t been a heartbeat that you could hear and you wondered if you were against Myers or maybe even Danny.

And then you heard someone scream while going down on the other side of the map, and you couldn’t tell from that if it was one of the silent killers or not.

You knew it wasn’t plague, pig, or Freddy because you hadn’t run into any fountains or trap removal spots, and you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

You crouched in front of your generator, wondering where anyone was. You had seen where the person downed was hung, but they got unhooked pretty quickly. Was everyone else on that side of the realm?

You almost blew your gen when who you assumed to be the savior of the last hooked person was downed without even being hit before, and you felt dread.

The music for a tier 3 Myers hadn’t played, and you hadn’t felt like it was Danny, so who else could down someone without hitting them?

No totems had been cleansed, so it wasn’t haunted grounds. They hadn’t gotten pulled off a gen or out of a locker.

As you thought harder about who it could be, you felt your palms sweating, forcing you to pay extra attention to the gen in front of you, almost missing the last person getting instant downed while the killer was still carrying someone.

You finished your gen just as the second person got hooked, and you felt a moment of fear root you to the spot as you debated trying to go for the unhook save.

There was no screaming before the downs, so it wasn’t clown throwing his bottles at people.

As you contemplated your next move, inching along an outcropping and trying to get line of sight on the hook, and maybe see where the killer was, Feng popped up next to you, holding in her sounds of pain well enough that you hadn’t even heard her approach.

You set about patching her up, a bit rattled from the knowledge that you really didn’t know who it was, and you didn’t feel safe enough to ask out loud who it was to Feng.

She nodded at you, a thanks for the heal as she ran off in the opposite direction of the hooked survivor. Looks like it was up to you, or maybe the fourth survivor, but they were still hurt.

You felt on edge, the back of your scalp itching like you were being watched but you couldn’t spot the killer or even hear the heartbeat that let you know if they were close or not.

It was Kate on the hook, already struggling with the entity. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing you might have gotten to her sooner if you hadn’t froze early by your finished gen.

Just as you reached up, pulling her off completely, you felt a sting on your side.

Letting out a small whine as you looked in the direction of whatever was thrown your way, and making eye contact with a tall man in a yellow coat, who was grinning as he held another little throwing knife. He was still a good distance away, but you could have sworn you saw him wink at you before throwing the next knife that hit your shoulder.

Kate and you quickly scattered, and you tried to put things in between you and the killer, feeling another sting every 4 or 5 seconds, not giving you a moments reprieve.

Just as you reached the building, you felt a knife hit a particularly tender spot, making you cry out and almost double over before you sprinted as far away as you could get, going deep into the building, hoping the basement was at the killer shack this trial.

You felt another sting hit your shoulder, and you really didn’t have the time to try to check behind you as you desperately ran through the building, trying to duck and weave, not knowing exactly where he was coming from in your panic to escape him.

You could hear him now, and the heartbeat that always kicked up around killers. You could never tell if it was your own heart the entity made to beat so intensely, or if it was the killers themselves, and it was a projection.

At this point, you really didn’t ask questions, since it seemed no one really had the answers to those ones.

You felt the fear kick up even more as he seemed to laugh in amusement at your struggles. You managed to get out the other side of the building, running into a spooked Claudette as you vaulted out of the building. She was still bleeding from getting unhooked earlier and you realized she must have been the first person to be hooked.

After the first moment of shock, you both split apart as you heard the ting of a blade barely missing you and hitting the place right above your head.

You made a mad dash to the left, leaving Claudette to run off to the right as you heard the killer vault the window smoothly. You turned the corner, hoping that being out of sight would make him run a different way but you wouldn’t hold your breath.

A swift feeling of guilt hit you as you hobbled away from the building, hearing the heartbeat fade and you knew he had gone for Claudette instead of you.

And your suspicions were confirmed when you heard her scream and saw her go down inside the building. You hadn’t been paying attention as you ran through, more concerned about avoiding those awful knives, so you felt your dread building as you waited to see where he would hook Claudette, hoping the basement wasn’t in the main building.

You crouched behind a silent generator, immediately getting to work on coaxing it to life as your fears were confirmed. You could see the outline of Claudette being hooked in the basement of the building, a sour taste filling your mouth at that.

She was struggling, but you were hurt. Going into the basement without getting healed was asking to have two hooked instead.

You carefully worked on the gen, keeping both an eye and an ear out for the killer, almost slipping when another gen got completed on the other side of the building, drawing the killers attention away from where you were for sure.

And just after the gen finished, you head the scream of Feng going down on first hit again. How was he doing that? His knives hurt, but it took a long time before he even managed to really hurt you with them. The sheer adrenaline of trying to survive in the trial made it so you brushed off most the hits until it had just been too many.

The sour taste in your mouth grew as Kate’s scream followed almost immediately after, and suddenly you were the only standing survivor.

You felt remorse for not taking the killers attention when you watched Claudette be taken by the entity from the basement just as you started towards the building again.

You had to at least try to get Feng or Kate up, you couldn’t let them die like you’d let Claudette die.

You tried you hardest not to cry out as you made it through the building towards where you could see Kate still on the ground, trying not to bleed out. You couldn’t quite stop the whimpers, but you did manage to make it to her undetected so far.

You could hear the heartbeat, but it was faint. Poor Feng was being taken away from the building. You didn’t have to touch Kate much before getting her up, and the moment you pulled her to her feet, she bolted from you. You wanted to call out, to have her let you heal her up before you went on, but she was running in the direction you’d come from instead.

You shook your head slightly, quickly making your way towards Feng, who’d been hooked just as you picked Kate up.

She was holding the entity back, but just barely. You made eye contact with her, and almost cried out when she saw you and then just let go. You’d been coming to get her, you were so close, just behind a rock nearby.

The heartbeat was fading too, why did she give up?

You grit your teeth, upset with yourself for letting two of them down in one match.

Your attention was called back to the building when you heard Kate scream again, watching in horror as she was pulled from a locker by the killer and swiftly carried to the basement, instantly being taken by the entity once hooked.

If you had been quicker earlier, she could have at least held off the entity for a bit, given you a chance to try and save her.

If you had just been quicker, and not so scared of the new killer.

You held in your want to cry out, to lament your failure this trial. You had to try to escape, to find the hatch. You couldn’t let their sacrifices go in vain. You were one of the survivors who always escaped, you had to do this.

You threw caution to the wind, making a quick of a run towards killer shack as you could, hoping that hatch would spawn there like you knew it did often.

You heard his laughter at almost the same time the heartbeat started again.

Fear spiked, gripping your own heart as you felt the first burning sensation of a knife hit your lower back. It wasn’t enough to drop you, but it did hurt.

You couldn’t make yourself run any faster, and there wasn’t many trees or rocks to hide behind in this direction. You felt the hot sting of metal bite into your shoulder then the middle of your back, and one winged by and sliced your cheek. He was throwing quickly, one after the other. Two more hit your back, one hit your upper thigh and another hit your back. He missed two when you almost staggered, going off behind the first rock you’d come into.

You knew the jig was up, you could only dance around the rock with him for so long, feeling a knife hit the front of your shoulder this time as you switched directions, still trying to get away.

The next one would make you go down, you were barely standing as it. You felt the blood drip down from the cut on your cheek, the wounds all over your body screaming for your attention and making it hard to focus on dodging any more.

You hadn’t made anymore eye contact with him ever since the first time when you’d unhooked Kate. Something inside of you was scared at how he’d react to more. He seemed to like being looked at, having gotten more vicious when there was more than one person nearby, when he’d downed Kate and Feng back to back.

You almost tripped, and that was your undoing. Uneven footing made you falter for just a split second, and it was enough for him to clear the side of the rock and land his last knife, burying into the front of your thigh, biting in deep and making you collapse finally.

You fell forward, doing your best to hold yourself up long enough that the fall didn’t dig the knife in deeper before the entity made it disappear from you like it had the others.

You lay there, cursing yourself for fumbling so much through the match, and not just committing to saving the other survivors earlier on.

You heard him almost panting as he approached, a manic giggle leaving him, excited to have finally caught the last of the survivors.

There was no more energy left to even turn your head to look at him, you just laid there, weakly groaning as all the little wounds caught up and really made their presence known.

He stood over you, the heartbeat almost deafening as you waited for him to haul you up and carry you to a hook any moment now.

When he didn’t pick you up for a solid ten seconds, you finally rolled yourself just enough to look up at him. And what you saw both terrified you and sent a thrilling shiver down your spine.

He was staring down at you, as if transfixed by what he saw.

You were still in too much pain to really take much else in, but when he suddenly knelt down over you, hand reaching out to tip your chin up to look at him fully, you gasped.

The rich scent of alpha finally made it to your nose, but you realized even during chases, he hadn’t been pushing any scent out. And he had sounded rather excited. Something was trying to click together inside your brain, but you were a little too out of it and too shocked by his actions to piece the information your brain was trying to put together into one cohesive piece.

He leaned down just a bit, his gaze roving around your face, his thumb and forefinger holding your head still in his hands.

You stayed perfectly still, not sure if it was fear or something else keeping you in place as he examined you closely.

“미인”

In your dazed state, you misheard him. “Hey, I’m not that tiny…” sure, almost all the killers were taller than you, but he didn’t have to say you were mini.

His head cocks to the side, before a boisterous laugh escapes him, startling you. “Ahh, you only speak English then.”

His smile is nothing like the manic grin you’d caught glimpses of during the trial, it’s a bit more at ease. Just a bit though. You could tell there was something lurking beneath the surface.

Maybe if you weren’t so out of it from the blood loss, you might have pulled away from his deepened touch.

“I said miin, which means beautiful.” His grin doesn’t quite reach manic again, but it does change from the mirthful one from earlier to one that was predatory.

He keeps your chin in his grasp for a few moments more as you register what he said, before suddenly hauling you up onto his shoulder and walking off in a direction you couldn’t ascertain from your position and the sudden dizziness from being carried.

All you’re able to do is steady yourself just enough by pressing your hands against his back, but you don’t try to struggle out. Honestly, you’re just too tired to at this point. You’d been bleeding for a while now, and while it had slowed to a sluggish trickle, you’d still lost a lot of blood.

He easily walked along, hardly even slowed down with you on his shoulder. He was humming as he headed towards wherever he was going, arm keeping you securely on his shoulder by wrapping around your lower back.

Just as you were about to muster the courage to ask where this strange alpha was taking you, since you’d seen him pass several hooks on his journey, he was hauling you back over his shoulder, holding you in front of himself for a moment before giving you a grin that sent chills up and down your spine as he let you drop straight into the open hatch.

The last thing you saw before you reappeared at the campfire was his gaze staying steady on you as that grin split his face.

You came to near the logs everyone sat on, still disoriented but instead of blood loss, it was the normal dizziness that came from regenerating from trials.

Even if you were still a bit wobbly, you turned away from the fire and started your way towards the edge of the forest, determined to find that strange killer.

You played the trial over and over in your head again, trying to figure out just what was drawing you to him.

Just as you reached the edge of the forest and it thinned out, you realized he hadn’t been using his scent at all during the trial. You’d barely been able to figure out he was an alpha and only when he had gotten close enough to carry you.

You stopped at the edge, a dawning epiphany hitting you, one your brain had tried to show you in the trial. He was strong… without his scent. Honestly, you didn’t think he’d even used his scent at all during the trial, even when he’d picked you up.

Meanwhile, you were sure you’d probably been subconsciously scenting off in fear. Maybe that’s what had him pausing at the end, when he’d held your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly, before shaking your head. You didn’t know for sure if this alpha was right for you, no need to get ahead of yourself.

But… what was it he’d called you? It meant beautiful. And he hadn’t scented when he said it. Maybe he was different.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head once more. None of this would matter if you couldn’t find him outside of the trials.

So with new purpose, you strode into Glenvale, ready to interrogate whoever you needed to to find the killer.

Your steps were hurried, taking the steps up to the saloon in one small hop, and pushed the doors open obnoxiously, too preoccupied with your own mission to realize how loud it would be.

So when the swinging doors smacked against the wall, it startled everyone, including you.

You barely had time to register that there was only a few people in the saloon before Evan grumbled at you. “What’s got a bee in your bonnet today, brat?”

Stuck in place just inside the door, you looked to him as you mumbled out a soft “Sorry, didn’t mean to open them that hard.”

What drew your attention next was someone standing from the table, hidden by the bulk of Evan until just then.

“Ah, I was just about to ask where I could find you, and here you are.” There was a playfulness to his voice, and his grin mirrored the one he’d been giving you when he’d dropped your through the hatch just a few minutes ago.

He was already walking over towards you, and you were still stuck in place, but instead of it being mortification, it was something else.

You didn’t even smell him, but just seeing him had you staying still.

Maybe you were a bit in over your head, but the possibility that there was finally an alpha that could cross off all your check boxes? It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Your hands clenched and unclenched as you waited for him to reach you.

“Would you join me on a walk?” He was right in front of you now, looking down as you fidgeting in front of him. Why were you nervous? He was just another alpha, you didn’t have anything to worry about. He couldn’t hurt you out of trials, and he could only do so much in trials, so why were you nervous around him?

You looked past him for a moment to see that Evan had turned away. Seems he wasn’t worried about the new killer talking to you, and he was always quick to put himself between you and the more… questionable killers.

So when you met gazes, you gave a tentative nod.

He walked past you, opening the door and standing outside of it, still holding it for you as he looked back watching you walk over to him.

The predatory look was gone, replaced with a lax smile. Like he had fully relaxed. An air of easy going swam around him as you almost meekly exited the building.

You’d never really thought how you would react to finding an alpha who might be good for you. This almost spooked approach was not what you’d expected from yourself.

He didn’t strike up any conversation as you left the realm of Glenvale and wandered farther than you’d ever gone before, passing some other realms you’d not seen outside of trials before.

He did however, pick up a lazy hum of a song. It didn’t seem to have a rhyme or reason to it, nothing you recognized at least.

“So, little omega. How long have you been hiding from me?” His voice startled you out of your own thoughts, and his words made your face flush.

“I… haven’t. We just haven’t been in a trial before now.” You were telling the truth at least, so he shrugged at that.

His hum changed to one of thought instead of song, drawn out a bit before he looked back at you from over his shoulder. “Well, now that we’ve met, don’t go hiding from me~.” The wink he gave you before turning back had you almost faltering, falling just a little bit behind before hurrying a bit to keep up again.

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Was that his way of flirting with you?

Instead of saying anything, you just gave a small nod. He really did have the upper hand here, and you could only hope you hadn’t made a grave mistake following him out of the saloon.

He leads you past all the realms and into the forest on the other side. And just as it feels like he's leading you in circles, you pop out of the treeline in front of a cabin, just sitting in the clearing in front of you like it had been taken right from some magazine about Natural Living For The Rich and Wealthy.

Why was it always the killers getting fancy realms and cabins to stay in but the survivors had to stay around a dingy little campfire without so much as a tent to sleep in?

Your small spike of jealousy was forgotten when he opened the front door, ushering you inside with that same easy going air about him.

He wasn’t even glancing over his shoulder anymore, he just expected you to follow him deeper into his dwelling.

And you did, eyes wide and nose twitching at the sudden increase in his scent. It was old though, just what’s rubbed off on the cabin from him staying in it for upwards of 4 months now.

And you could feel the shift in the atmosphere when he heard your subtle sniff you couldn’t stop yourself from doing.

He casual spun around, leaning against the back of the couch, giving you a once over before that smirk was back.

“Do you like what you see, little omega?” The laugh in his voice sounded almost threatening, but it only sent a thrilling shiver down your spine when his eyes lidded while watching you from where he stood.

“I… It’s a very nice cabin. Shame only you killers get things like this. What I wouldn’t do for a tent at this point. Falling asleep leaned against a tree gets old at some point.” You tried to cover your embarrassment from being caught taking in his scent with your very real envy that the killers got special treatment.

His laugh was a bit unexpected, but it sounded genuine. “You know,” he pushed up from the couch, closing the distance easily, almost looming over you in mere moments, hands in his pockets as he leaned into the wall just beside you “you don’t have to stay at that campfire if you don’t want to…”

There was a suggestion in his tone, words unsaid, but clear on his face. He was leaning just a bit closer now, that signature grin back on his face as he watched you squirm under his intense gaze.

Part of you wanted to play dumb, to say something like ‘Oh, sure. I’ll just go ask Evan for a room in his mansion.’ but the look he was giving you had all your fire from before sizzling out.

Or maybe it was more apt to say it was burning differently now.

The temptation to finally give in to your more submissive instincts was great, but after a life of telling off shitty alphas, you weren’t sure how to go about flirting back with one now that you were here.

Your silence didn’t bother him, it seemed. His grin still in place as he leaned over you.

Every thought flitting through your head as you tried to find the right thing to say left you as he finally reached up to capture your chin, just like he had during the trial earlier.

“That is, if it’s what you want~.”

He was teasing you and also reassuring you. You could figure that much out by the softness with which he held your face.

The closeness was clouding your mind, but you knew that you were interested in his offer.

You faltered under his gaze, but finally found your voice. “I… you’re not scenting off… are you?”

It wasn’t really a question, but more of a realization. He nodded nonetheless, leaning back up just a bit, shrugging.

“Don’t need to.”

His confidence with those three little words sent an electric current through your whole system, leaving your fingers tingling after a small shiver has his eyes narrowing every so slightly, pulling up in a smile as he leans back in.

“But I can, if you ask nicely.”

You don’t even think before the barest whisper of a ‘please’ leaves you, finally giving in to your instincts.

He closed the distance, other hand coming to your hip to pull you closer to him. His face was so close, and the excitement at this new experience was absolutely overriding any thoughts of your past.

And all at once, you were surrounded by his scent. You couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped, but it only seemed to please him.

“That’s it, little omega.” He moved until his mouth was almost pressed against your ear, whispering out a little “Relax a little, I’ll take good care of you.”

He had your head spinning well before that, but when he nuzzled against your neck, taking in his own deep breath, you couldn’t help the little whine that left you.

His rich laugh reverberated through your whole body, sending tingles to all your extremities and lighting a fire low in your belly.

“Sensitive, aren’t we.” You could feel his smile against your skin, his teeth grazing against your scent gland, lighting up all the pleasure centers in your brain and causing a rush of slick to leave your panties an absolute mess as you trembled beneath him.

His grip on your hip tightened, a low rumble leaving him as he appreciated your own scent. “That’s good, it’s gonna be fun with you so responsive.”

You reached out, hands gripping at his open coat. You were dizzy from the rush of all these new feelings. Sure, you’d done plenty during your heats, but none of that had any feeling behind it. This was so different, it was like you were an inexperienced virgin again, unsure of where to put your hands or what to do with your body.

Thankfully, he was taking charge, pressing you into the wall and sliding his leg between yours as he kept nibbling gently against your neck.

He drew out more little whines from you, the hand on your chin wandering down to ghost feather light touches down your side, his mouth gradually moving to nip at your chin and then hungrily at your lower lip.

His presence was heavy, devouring you without even trying.

When you responded to his insistent presses against your mouth positively, he groaned out his approval, teeth grazing your lip before sucking softly at it to soothe the slight sting.

Your own moan that followed spurred him on a bit more, hands moving to either side of your thighs before lifting you.

While you expected him to pin you against the wall right there, he surprised you by standing up fully with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms hastily thrown around his shoulders to hold yourself up.

He hadn’t stopped leaving little kisses on your face either, keeping you distracted as he walked farther into his dark cabin, not even bothering with the lights.

It was only when you were being laid down underneath him on a very soft bed that you did anything besides hold onto him.

While everything in you was telling you he was in charge, that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything to help him along.

With lust fueling your actions, you pressed your hips up against him, doing your best to grind against him with your legs wrapped around his waist.

Doing so earned you a low growl and him pressing a bit harder into you as he claimed your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.

Everything about him was larger than life, almost overwhelming you as he licked at your lower lip before teasing along your own before finally releasing your for a breather.

He was still impossibly close, but you managed to clear your head enough to start lifting your own shirt off, since his jacket was the only thing in the way besides his pants. He sat up, hands moving your legs from around him so he could shrug out of his bright yellow jacket and toss it to the side of his bed, hands finding your bare skin being revealed as you shimmied out of your top.

You would have blushed when hearing his appreciative hum, but you were a little too turned on, seeing him kneeling over you, looking like sinful perfection as his hands trailed down your stomach to graze the top of your shorts you wore.

He went slow, unbuttoning then with a gleam in his eye, that predatory feel coming back as his teeth glinted in the low lighting.

You complied with his slight tug, lifting your hips enough that he slid them down your hips before sitting back fully, pulling them down your thighs and to your knees, lifting your legs to be almost flush with his body and he pulled your shorts off, keeping you legs pinned against his front, pressing a soft kiss against your calf as he drank in the sight of you flushed and almost naked beneath him.

“미인”

Even through the fog of lust, you remembered him calling you that before. Something about how you were beautiful.

Your face got substantially warmer, but you managed to get out “You’re not so bad looking yourself.” but you couldn’t quite manage the cocky smile you wanted to have go along with it when he nipped at your calf where he had kissed just before.

He was enjoying being above you like this, getting to watch your reactions as his hand not holding your legs to his chest trailed down the front of your thighs, ghosting against the dip in your hip before tugging playfully at the edge of your slick soaked panties.

You could feel his own excitement pressed against the back of your left thigh, and could feel how he tensed slightly when you squirmed in his hold, letting out a moan when the pad of his thumb swiped against your mound.

“You’re already so wet for me, little omega.” His voice was husky, low and vibrating through your legs pressed against his chest.

Whimpering in response to the stronger press of his thumb circling slowly, he had you writhing beneath him with very little effort.

It was like he knew just where to press to give just enough pressure to build you up quickly. He had you wrapped around his finger in no time, your gasps turning into absolutely filthy moans as he moved your panties to the side, exposing you to him finally.

His fingers ghosted across your slick soaked folds, spreading them slightly and groaning at the sight.

And just like that, he wasn’t teasing anymore.

He let your legs down, hands easily undoing his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down his hips, eyes never leaving you.

You were just as eager, moving to rid yourself of your panties and undo the bra you wore, thankful they at least matched today.

He let you know he appreciated your efforts by pushing you back down, mouth closing around your left nipple, while his hand found its way to your hip, steadying himself as you found his way back between your thighs.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around him again, pulling a soft moan from him when your bodies pressed closer. His cock throbbed at the delicious friction your bucking provided, but he only allowed it for so long.

Sitting back just a bit, raising his head from your chest and making full eye contact with you before purring out “Careful little omega, you’re playing with fire~.”

And even though your brain was telling you this was a very bad idea, you went ahead and poked the lion anyways.

Biting your lip, you pressed yourself up, rubbing yourself against the underside of his cock for just a moment more before he let out a much lower growl than before.

You had less than a second to react before he flipped you over, pulling your hips back into him to press his aching hard on against your heat.

Before you had a chance to gather your bearings, he had you pinned under him, teeth closing around your scent gland once more, sucking softly while ever so slightly grazing your skin. A reminder of your position, of how this was going to go down.

A rumbling approval thrummed through you when you presented properly, no longer embarrassed by your own instincts.

He greedily pressed against you, rutting slightly, simply enjoying your soft skin for a moment before reaching a hand down and slowly pressing a finger into you, earning him a long drawn out mewl as he felt you grip at him. He quickly added a second, working you up easily and mercilessly.

And through the whole thing, his mouth never left your neck. He was working you into a frenzied mess underneath him with just his hands and mouth, your legs shaking from the sudden intensity of the buzzing feeling between your legs, leaving you dizzy as he licked and sucked around your scent gland, taking his sweet time getting you ready for him.

You were already so close just from his fingers working you open for him, so at the sudden press of his cock, you almost came right there, gripping at the first inch of his cock as he slowly sunk more into you.

He finally let up on your neck, but stayed right there, nuzzling at your ear, purring slightly.

It wasn’t long before he finally stilled, seated fully inside of you, groaning at the warmth hugging him into you.

He sat still, just enjoying the feeling of you fluttering around him. He felt your impatient little press back into him, grin splitting his face as a low laugh reverberated through your whole body with him this close, practically draped over your own form beneath him.

“You want more?” There was mirth in his voice again, but also an edge of warning.

Despite the voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea, you nodded a bit desperately.

A low hum set your whole body thrumming with need, you could feel his smile press into your skin as you barely made out his whisper.

“Remember, you asked for it…”

You didn’t even have a second to second guess yourself, his hands moved, one arm holding him up while the other went to hold your hips in a vice like grip as he withdrew half his length and then plunged back in, knocking the breath right out of you.

He gave you no recovery time, setting an almost brutal pace, hips canting at an angle that had you seeing stars and trying to get any air in as he practically used you beneath him.

While he was enjoying still being over top you, and so close, but he wanted to hear you. He wanted you crying out for him.

Leaning back, he moved both hands to your hips, eager to hear your first moan now that you could get a breath in.

His hips snapped forward, the power behind his thrusts ramping up quite a bit, and he was rewarded with a loud keen as he kept that same fast and deep pace from before.

He felt you clamp around him, letting out his own groan at the sensation. You could feel his fingers digging in just a bit harder, knowing you’d have light bruising from the treatment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment.

The bed sheet beneath you swam in front of your eyes, the pleasure bringing you to near tears as he adjusted yet again, pushing your face into the bed with one of his large hands splayed between your shoulder blades. And it was almost like he could hit even deeper from this position. He was filling you up with every thrust, leaving you a shaky mewling mess underneath him.

You were barely aware of anything besides your own mounting pleasure, but you just barely caught a growled command from him. “Ji-woon… say it”

His tone, deep and absolutely in control had you shivering under him, brain going to putty as you whimpered out what he asked.

A shaky attempt at his name left your lips, and it was close enough that it spurred him on, nails biting into your hip as he got close.

His pace quickened just a bit, and it had you keening out his name for him, music to his ears.

He felt you hit your peak, your orgasm crashing down on you as any noise you were making melted into a high pitched moan that was broken up with each thrust from him chasing his own end along side you.

And while the temptation to knot you was there, he held back, wanting to save that for the first time he’d lay his claiming bite on you in your heat.

You were almost through your own orgasm, body rigid and muscles tight, your ears ringing when you heard a choked out “이거야!” that was followed by a growl and his hips stilling finally, grip on you keeping you in place despite your own pleasure finally leaving you a twitching, boneless mess beneath him.

It wasn’t long before he draped himself over you again, pressing your body into the mattress as he surrounded you with his body and scent. One of a very pleased alpha.

“You did so well, little omega…” his praise left a warmth just beneath your skin, lighting you up unlike anything ever had before.

A surprisingly soft kiss was pressed just behind your ear, followed with a content purr as his hands gently rubbed at where he’d been gripping so hard earlier.

“So perfect, all for me.” His tone was still praising, but it had taken a possessive turn.

And his purr only picked up when you gave a little ‘mhhm’ at his words.

Being only for him didn’t sound so bad.

After all, you’d waited your whole life for the right alpha. Him wanting you just as much as you wanted him brought you a sense of peace.

You’d finally found him, your alpha. And you weren’t going to be letting him go anytime soon.

Translations 미인: (Miin) Beautiful woman

이거야!: (Igeoya) This is it!

[megumitski]

hello these are the bnha fics i’ve read so far and i just made this to track them for myself. favorites are marked with a 💥! more bakudeku plus tododeku and other ships under the cut.

bakudeku

💥 Bluebird - EtherealBeing (53k)

Dialing a wrong number was no unusual occurrence. Everyone did it once in a while, and Katsuki was well aware of that fact.

However, possessing this knowledge made it no less aggravating for him to discover — a full two minutes into his rant about his day — that he’d been venting his frustrations to a complete stranger. As if that wasn't enough, said stranger was also inexplicably determined to hear his story to its end.

Let’s Be Alone Together - lalazee (3k)

Prompt: Deku being aggressively forward in his pursuit of Bakugou, and how that big oaf would react to someone else actually making the first move.

“Are you going to spend your entire life wishing you’d kissed me or are you gonna grow some balls and fucking do it?”

Bell Pepper - ticklishivories (7k)

Midoriya knew they wouldn’t talk about it. He was right. But he never thought it’d happen again.

spilling over every side - failbender (6k)

No good deed goes unpunished, not when there's a crazy lady with a complex and Lust Quirk parading around the city. By now, Katsuki should probably be used to things blowing up in his face.

be loved - bonnia (5k)

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

Leftovers - brichibi (6k)

“Did you two make up?”

That. That’s why that fight felt like it was worth it, even if, technically, Izuku can’t answer her. Have they made up? Is this making up?

He actually doesn’t know.

[Or: the house arrest fic where it is, somehow, more awkward to talk through feelings than it is to fight]

lust-drunk - theboykingofhell (8k)

The one where Bakugou tries not to lose his mind to lust, and Midoriya is the useless gay who does nothing to help that matter at all.

💥 Quiet Rapture - lalazee (261k) - inc.

That A/B/O fic where cocky Alpha Bakugou falls in mate-love at first scent, while Midoriya is just a poor bookstore-owning Omega who got his nose punched in is a kid and can't smell a damn thing. Also known as: That time an Alpha had to use his actual personality to woo his mate instead of relying on his scent.

💥 A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8k)

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

What The Fuck Did You Just Call Me? - reading_raindrop (8k)

“A-ah B-Bakugou! You dropped some pencils!”

Katsuki stiffened. Kirishima and Kaminari froze. Basically, everyone within earshot stopped what they were doing to look at Izuku like he sprouted a second head. What did he just call him? “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Katsuki whipped his head towards Izuku with his signature death glare as he stood up from where he picked up the fallen supplies.

“U-um I said you dropped some pencils! I think this eraser might be yours to-”

“No. What the fuck did you just call me?”

Izuku starts calling him Bakugou and it pisses the explosive teen off a lot more than he thought it would

💥 take care - Chrome (2k)

There are words to say stay safe, I’ll miss you, I love you, but Kacchan has always preferred to leave things unspoken. Izuku isn’t much with languages, but he thinks he’s figured out this one.

---

“Emotional constipation manifested as over-the-top housewifery?” Mina asks. Before Izuku can say that is not what he meant at all, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”

Just Look At Me - Colourcubify (52k) - dnf

Midoriya is completely happy with his life. Nope, not one single regret in his twenty-seven years. He especially doesn't regret running into his old childhood friend/bully after almost ten years, nor does he regret spilling coffee all over his very expensive looking suit. How nice it will be to die with no regrets. ~~~~ AKA the sugar daddy AU I meant to be a one shot, that turned into a full fledged story.

A Nest for the Best - Camellia_Sinensis (1k)

Deku’s been nesting and asking everyone in 1-A for pieces of clothing for his horde. Everyone, that is, except Katsuki. Cue the jealousy.

unforgiving - i_write_emotion (19k)

Deku is hit with a quirk that takes away his ability to forgive, and Bakugou’s world comes crashing down. Quirkless!Deku. Pro-hero!Bakugou.

@ Deku WRONG CHAT - katyastark (16k) - inc.

Deku: THE LENGTHS I WOULD GO TO JUST LICK THE SWEAT OFF HIS ABS hnnnnnghhh

Deku: or! like! It doesn’t even have to be his abs! It could be anywhere else! I’m not picky!

Pinky: excuse me what

ChargeDolt: OMG

Uravity: @Deku WRONG CHAT

I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married. - InkspillsNotebook (6k)

Ta-Da!!!! I hope you all enjoy the finished product!!! I'm sorry (not sorry) I broke a lot of you when I first posted this to tumblr!!

Procrastination - capncapk (5k)

But it is still surprising to see his more-than-friend-but-also-lover-he-guesses in his office seeking attention though Izuku already turned him down.

Usually he'll get a text of 'wyd?' followed by a time and place if Izuku responds with a confirmation, and silence if he's busy.

Or slammed into the wall in the agency's shower for a quickie if no one was around, which despite his anxiety, he often acquiesces to.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71k)

The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) - vannral (16k)

In complete honesty, no one who knows the Class 3-A should be surprised anymore. Izuku is asleep.

In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

Yes, They’re All Safe - teaandtumblr (5k)

Villains have entered UA grounds and are disposed of just as quickly, but that doesn't mean a headcount of the students doesn't need to be done. Toshinori would admit, he wasn't quite prepared for what he found in Bakugou Katsuki's room.

💥 all choked up - spicyrabbit (5k)

Bakugou Katsuki had a habit of turning away from the heard. At 16, he does this by coming to terms with wanting, desperately, to see his childhood friend cry.

💥 May I take your order, dipshit? - supercrunch (6k)

So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.

(Midoriya in love, Bakugou in denial, and way, way too much cheese.

A BakuDeku romance in thirty minutes or less. )

blooms every hour - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“It’s you, okay?!” Deku screams. “It’s you. And I know you’ll never love me back, so -” Deku wipes his eyes and straightens. “So just leave it.”

-----

Deku has hanahaki, and Katsuki doesn't know how to save him.

all choked up - dynamighttiddy (7k)

“Deku, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Izuku asks Kacchan to help him train blackwhip. Things don't exactly go according to plan.

A Fight To The Death - iknewaman (10k)

Izuku isn’t competitive by nature, but when the blond, cocky asshole from the other table’s team gets involved he suddenly becomes hellbent on winning.

Rival Pub Quiz AU

💥 Like the Moon - osakakitty (15k)

Katsuki Bakugo is having constant, erotic dreams about Izuku Midoriya. He isn’t sure why, but they won’t go away. In order to make them stop, he needs to figure out what Izuku Midoriya means to him.

Canon-verse story in which Bakugo is confused about his feelings for Midoriya, and doesn’t know what he wants. Besides a good night’s sleep.

💥 We Wear Chains on the Weekend - surveycorpsjean (35k)

Well, in a day of revelations, it turns out that Izuku isn't as vanilla as Katsuki previously thought. Unfortunately, that fascinating discovery is overshadowed by Izuku's dumbassery, because he has zero concept of aftercare.

"Don't go to anyone else," Katsuki says, because screw it. He can do a better job anyways.

Or; Katsuki finds Izuku on a bad drop.

take me out to dinner first - dynamighttiddy (3k)

“Kacchan,” Deku chides. “What’s going on?”

Katsuki takes a deep breath.

He trusts Deku with his life. He can trust him with this, too.

“Have sex with me.”

-----

Katsuki Bakugou is one of the only virgins left in class 3-A - and with graduation just around the corner, he's desperate to change that.

💥 that ultra kind of love - dynamighttiddy (11k)

“So, uh,” Kirishima starts. “Was that your first kiss?” he whispers, almost sheepish. Katsuki’s stomach drops, and he freezes. Memories of green eyes and freckles and soft lips flash behind his eyelids. “Yeah,” he lies easily. “That was my first kiss.”

-----

In which Bakugou pretends Kirishima is his first kiss, amongst other things.

to the moon and back - kewltie (1k)

"He gets stupid when he's drunk," Katsuki seethes in his seat as he watches Izuku croon love notes into Uraraka's throat. He’d never met a worst lightweight then Deku, who become some kind of demented affectionate monster.

💥 Bridges - supercrunch (18k)

Yaomomo sighs. “We’ve got a little bit of a situation, Bakugou. Ashi—uhm, somebody might have accidentally signed you up for that modelling gig.”

Katsuki holds up a hand. "So what you’re telling me here," he says, "is that you told Calvin Klein I would model for them. In my underwear.”

Ashido sinks behind a desk to hide. “Yes.”

(The thing is, they really do need the money. And Katsuki's technically the leader of this bunch of morons, so he finds himself taking the job even though his pride will never recover. And even though nobody thought to tell him that he'd be working with his ex-boyfriend. You know, the cute freckled guy from high school who went and broke his heart.

So, yeah. This whole situation kind of sucks.)

Crescendo - supercrunch - inc. (4k)

(Izuku's band is on their way to the top of the charts. But the real star, he thinks, is the drummer.)

Guilty Kiss - osakakitty (1k)

He could feel Midoriya's eyes on him. Even though he knew it was wrong, Bakugo still wet his lips in anticipation.

(Canon-verse) A short story about making out in a closet. It's messy, but so is their relationship.

💥 Surfaces - surveycorpsjean (25k)

Katsuki has a new girlfriend, but something isn't right.

As impossible as it is, Izuku can't help but wonder what it'd be like to be called Katsuki's girl.

Classical conditioning - supercrunch (8k)

(or: how to trick a boy into going out with you.)

Alright. Maybe his idiot friends had a point, Katsuki thinks as he shoulders open the front door. His mother’s in the living room drinking coffee. Katsuki kicks off his shoes and stomps over. “Am I charming?” he demands, blocking the TV.

Mitsuki pats his cheek. “Oh, hon. Not at all.”

💥 Dance Bunny - EllaBesmirched (17k)

Katsuki Bakugou spends most week nights by himself, sitting in a corner at his local strip club and passing time until he feels tired enough to sleep. Work leaves him stressed and the new city he moved to a year ago is just different enough that he can't sleep at night and can't seem to get comfortable no matter where he is.

When he finally changes up his schedule and decides to head to the club on a Saturday night, he is instantly infatuated with a part-time dancer who can do things with his body that Katsuki didn't even know were possible. The dancer calls himself Bunny. By the second lap dance, Katsuki realizes he is in trouble.

but the entrails are the best part! - supercrunch (15k)

The boy straightens up. He’s about half a head shorter than Katsuki, face soft and youthful and sweet. He turns to look at him properly. His dark hair shines in the dying light, basket of blooms looped over one arm and mouth quirked into a tiny half-smile. The sun hits his face and makes his eyes a bright greeny-gold, just like emeralds.

Katsuki likes emeralds.

“Pretty,” he says, reaching out and picking the stranger up around the middle. He’s surprisingly heavy, although Katsuki doesn’t mind. “I like you. Come see my nest.”

The boy hits him.

He’s stronger than he looks, turns out. Katsuki drops him and falls onto his back, pain blooming across his face. Birds sing. The sky’s a lovely shade of orange, clouds floating lazily by. The boy scarpers. He leaves his basket of flowers behind, footsteps thumping on the ground and fading away as he escapes.

The sun sets. Katsuki, lying flat on his back with a bloody nose, decides he’s just fallen in love.

tododeku

(You Know You’re Really) Cute - ladyhoneydarlinglove (2k)

Kirishima poses the question, who’s the cutest boy in Class 1-A? The answers kind of surprise everyone, especially Midoriya.

Everything Except - Pouler (28k)

"In retrospect, Midoriya probably should’ve realized the moment they were enveloped in a glittering pink cloud that something was about to go Very Wrong."

After an encounter with a unique villain threatens to change the nature of their partnership, Midoriya must find a way to get things back to normal between him and Todoroki. That is, if he's certain that getting 'back to normal' is what he really wants...

count your blessings, not your flaws - PitViperOfDoom (7k)

Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

Riddles in the Heart - PitViperOfDoom (19k)

The law is clear: whoever correctly answers three riddles will marry the prince, while all who fail are to be executed. The people live in fear as more challengers try and fail, and the throne grows bloodier with every passing year. But a young prince, nameless and in exile from his home, believes there may be more to this brutal challenge than meets the eye.

Of course, there's only one way to find out: ring the gong, and take the trial.

Late bloomer - Nohaljiachi (10k)

That’s why when they’ve found themselves face to face on the ring of the sport festival once more, for the third time ever since they’ve met each other, and Izuku smiled at him, eager and challenging, self-confident but never full of himself, Shouto blinked, dazed and shocked, in realizing just how blindingly beautiful his best friend was. The way Izuku’s white shirt clung on his muscles, the little peek of his collar bone and the hard lines of his pecs visible under it, the way his thighs curved and filled the school gym uniform.

‘Oh, fuck—‘ Shouto thought, his head spinning, feeling like he just got run over by a freight train. ‘Shit. He’s- hot?’

Burn and Breathe - PitViperOfDoom (11k)

Soulmates are connected through pain, and some bonds have more to share than others. Todoroki Shouto wishes he could reject his soulmate. Midoriya wants nothing more than to protect his own.

one string, fit for a bow - furihatachlookie (5k)

There was no magical moment that played a part in Midoriya's realization that he liked Todoroki. The thin red string that greeted him every time he looked down at his hand was an obvious factor, yes, but it wasn't love at first sight either.

It sorta just... happened over time.

fire and feelings - kagshina (8k)

“Uh…” he starts, eyes widening. “Your finger’s on fire.”

Todoroki’s face scrunches together, confused, and then he looks down, noticing the flame. Midoriya watches as shock flashes across Todoroki’s face, and then horror, and then finally settles on embarrassment as he puts out the flame.

“Shit,” Todoroki mumbles, and Midoriya’s lip curves upward.

bakutododeku 

💥 Fire in the Mountains - EllaBesmirched (168k)

“I’ll do it.”

Enji froze, fingers curling into a fist at his side, and didn’t turn around.

Shouto froze too, feeling his own eyes widen in shock at the words that had come out of his mouth, at the fact that he had actually stood up, followed his father out of the room, and dashed after him all just to say… he’d do it? He would do it? Him. Shouto Todoroki. He would--

Enji finally turned around and fixed Shouto with an expression so scathing, Shouto had to fight to keep his chin raised. “You’ll marry the Barbarian King.”

Shouto blinked. “Yes.”

The Ballad of Love and Hate - EllaBesmirched (6k)

After eight painfully long years, Katsuki finally has Izuku back. He's determined to keep him this time, and to do that, he knows there are some things he has to say.

(mis)matched - ethydium (12k)

Midoriya doesn't hate the idea of finding one's soulmate, even though he had long since given up on finding his own. And then Bakugou and Todoroki match, and while he's happy for them, his heart breaks from all the unsaid things he feels for them.

Or:

Midoriya pines and suffers his way to his own happy ending.

pillowed by love - ethydium (21k)

As a prank, Uraraka gets Midoriya a body pillow (dakimakura) with the image of Bakugou printed on it. Then another one with Todoroki's picture. Chaos ensues.

other

For who could learn to love a beast? - supercrunch (4k) - bakutodo

Bakugou takes a deep breath and steps out into the living room, eyes automatically adjusting to the change in light. There’s a boy hanging up his coat in the hall. He’s handsome, albeit in an annoying way, hair dyed two colours to match his heterochromia and skin pale and perfect and smooth. He looks expensive. “Bakugou.”

“That’s me,” Bakugou says. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m older than I look.”

(Deku was right, damn him. Pretty boys are Bakugou's type.)

Want it All - surveycorpsjean (29k) - kiribakutododeku

“Hey, so..." Eijirou grins. "Can we ask you guys a question?"

Frankendick and the Great Acid Fiasco - EllaBesmirched (11k) - shiggyxdabi

Dabi had been intending to spend a very nice Saturday getting stoned and plotting murder, thank you very much, but when a trio of UA brats on enough L to kill a Beatle accidentally dose him and two other unsuspecting homicidal maniacs, Dabi has to change his plans a bit. Apparently no else around here knows how to trip balls and fucking enjoy it.

The Twitter - EllaBesmirched (8k) - tododenki

Shouto never really intended for anyone to find his secret Twitter account. He certainly didn't intend for Kaminari to see Shouto's thirst tweets about him. Luckily, Kaminari doesn't seem to mind.

pray you catch me - supercrunch (4k)

Katsuki pushes her shirt up to kiss her stomach. It’s silly, how it makes her heart flutter, how Izuku’s whispered I love you threatens to make her cry all over again. They’re unwrapping her from her clothes. They won’t let her hide, she thinks numbly. Won’t let her curl in on herself like she’s something dirty, Katsuki’s hands tugging off her underwear so she’s naked and exposed between them. “I,” she says breathlessly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying. I’m just being dumb.”

Izuku shushes her. Another tear trickles down her cheek and into her ear. He kisses it away, humming, brushing her bangs off her forehead so he can press his mouth between her brows. “You have every right to be upset. We’ll deal with him later. For now just let us take care of you.”

“She’ll get the message once you stop talking and fuck her,” Katsuki says, slipping his fingers into her. She clenches around him and shudders. “Gonna eat you out ‘til you forget how to move. Now put that fucking motor mouth to good use, Deku.”

[fairydxll]

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

↳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | uh fighting? Lmk if anything.

↳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2124

𝐚/𝐧 ~ sorry I haven't updated this story in a while. But I'm back now!

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

<- previous chapter

After a couple of days, Rory kinda got used to her new "home." Since Tony didn't know how long it would be before they went back to California, and with Pepper gone, they decided it was best if Rory just took a break from school.

Rory did eventually grow to like her new room. She was not allowed to leave the current floor, so she basically just spent all of her time there. Tony was gone all day and didn't get home until very late at night, meaning Rory had to have food delivered. She didn't mind, though. She figured that if they end up staying, she'll be able to tell Tony what all the good restaurants are.

Tony never told her anything about why they were here with the exception of, "Daddy has business."

So in order to pass the time, Rory would read or watch movies. She even took up drawing which turned out to be something she isn't too bad at.

This morning, Tony was already gone by the time Rory got up, so she got dressed and migrated to the living area. She sat on one of the couches near the large window and began sketching the tall buildings surrounding her.

As she finished the shading on one of the skyscrapers, she peered back up to see a tall man with long, black hair dressed in what looked like a Halloween costume standing on the terrace. Rory put down her sketchbook and looked closer. He was very tall and had large, golden horns that decorated the top of his head. She had no clue as to why this man was standing outside of her window on her father's building.

Rory looked to her right and noticed her father, in the Iron Man suit, land on the landing pad. The man just stood there, watching as machines swiftly removed the armor from Tony's body.

The strange man made his way into the room from the balcony. The room she was in. Rory didn't know what to do. She was frozen, scared. Instead of running away as any sane person would, Rory remained in her chair.

The large man entered the room. He studied his surroundings, his eyes eventually landing on Rory. "Who might you be?" He asked with disdain.

Rory could do nothing but blink at him, too afraid to speak. He opened his mouth to say more, only to be interrupted by the presence of Tony. "Rory, come here," Tony said blankly.

Rory immediately dropped her things and ran to her father's side. Tony wrapped his arm around her protectively, hoping to shield her with his body.

The man watched this all happen before finally speaking, "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity." He spoke as if she weren't there.

"Actually I'm planning to threaten you," Tony responded. Rory couldn't sense any different emotions other than his natural sarcastic tone.

"You should have left your armor on for that," the man bantered, walking closer to Tony and Rory.

"Yeah," Tony pushed Rory behind the bar. "It's seen a bit of mileage, and you've got the glow stick of destiny." Rory crouched down below the bar and pulled her knees into her chest. She couldn't help but let tears stain her cheeks, afraid of what was happening. "Would you like a drink?" Tony asked the man as he walked behind the bar, actively trying to ignore you in hopes you wouldn't become a target.

Rory heard the other man laugh. "Stalling me won't change anything," he said. If Rory knew what it meant, she would describe their conversation as passive-aggressive.

"No, no. threatening." Tony began making himself a drink. "No drink? You sure? I'm having one.

"The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that." His words sounded like gibberish to Rory. "What have I to fear?"

Rory watched her father casually make a drink as if nothing was wrong. "The Avengers. That's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team." Rory had no idea what he was going on about. ""Earth's mightiest heroes"-type thing."

"Yes, I've met them."

"Yea," Tony's smile helped calm Rory down. He had to have the situation under control, right? "It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But let's do a headcount, here. Your brother, the demi-god," demi-god? "A super-soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend." He secretly slipped a metal-looking band on each wrist.

"A man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins, and you, big fella," none of his words were making any sense. "You've managed to piss off every single one of them."

"That was the plan."

"Not a great plan," Tony walked past you and out from the bar. "When they come, and they will, they'll come for you."

"I have an army."

"We have a hulk."

Rory finally gathered enough courage and stood up carefully. She peeked her head over the bar to watch the men while also trying to stay out of the way. Tony was approaching the man as they spoke; the man keeping his ground.

"I thought the beast had wandered off," the man said.

"You're missing the point. There's no throne," Tony's voice rose slightly. "There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

Tony took a sip of his drink while the man took a few steps closer, a scowl spreading across his features. "How will your friends have time for me when they're so busy fighting you?"

For the first time since this scene began, Tony looked scared. The man brought his scepter-looking thing up and tapped it against Tony's chest with a clang noise. The man's face dropped for a second before he tried a second time, and then a third. "This usually works."

Tony didn't look scared anymore. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five--" his sentence was cut short when the man forcefully grabbed Tony's throat and threw him onto the floor. Rory squealed and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man turned his head in Rory's direction with a puzzled look. He turned away from her as soon as Tony stood up and went for his neck again. "You will all fall before me," he said.

"Deploy!" Tony called before the man threw him out the window, shattering the glass. Rory screamed with all her might. Did she just watch her Dad be murdered? What was he going to do to her?

Rory hid behind the bar once more, watching and listening closely to her surroundings. A loud sound rippled through the room causing Rory to throw her hands over her ears to block out the noise. She peeked over the bar and saw nothing but more shards of glass and broken furniture.

The man stared Rory down. "Who are you?"

Rory gulped, "who are you?"

He chuckled. "I am Loki, of Asgard. I'm surprised you have not yet heard of me." His tone was a lot softer with her than it was with her father. "What is your name, little one?"

"Rory," she nervously answered his question. "My name is Rory."

"Let me guess; Stark's child?" She didn't say anything. Rory simply nodded. "Ah I see," he gave you an almost heartwarming smile. "Come here, Rory."

Fearing she had no other choice, Rory walked over to Loki and he crouched down to meet her gaze. He smiled at her. Rory watched her father fly up behind him. She was more than thrilled to see her father alive and more tears fell from her eyes.

"And one more thing," Loki's face dropped and he spun around to face Tony. "Get away from my daughter!" Tony shot at Loki, sending him flying backward. Rory jumped out of the way, too stunned to do anything else. With Loki knocked out, Tony looked towards his daughter, "Rory go hide, now!" He flew away into the sky, and Rory wasted no time in running to her bedroom.

She slammed the door shut and locked it. She looked around her room for anything that she could put in front of the door to make it harder to reach her. Rory tried to move the couch, but it was no use. It was too heavy for a ten-year-old to manage. She tugged on her roots as she spotted her desk chair. Once it was securely tucked under the knob, Rory ran over to her window to watch what was unfolding.

Rory couldn't help herself as she began to sob. She was afraid and she was alone. There was nothing she could do to help. Tons of thousands of aliens flooded the skies and streets of New York as Rory sat up in her bedroom, watching. She was sobbing uncontrollably as she pressed her face and hands into the large window.

More loud noises were flowing from the living area into Rory's bedroom and Rory could do nothing to stop them. She hoped that the man who called himself Loki was gone and that her Dad was alright.

At this moment, Rory really felt like a child. She felt small and helpless. Lonely and afraid. There was nothing else she could do except watch. She had no clue as to what she was watching either, which was not making her feel any better.

At long last, the aliens seemed to dissipate and things seemed to calm down. It looked to Rory like the fight was over. But who won?

Rory was drawn away from her thoughts by the sound of her father's voice calling her name. She nearly sprinted out. She ran up to Tony and engulfed him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. He was still in his suit and covered in dirt, but neither seemed to mind.

"I was afraid," Rory murmured into his neck.

"I know, bubs." They pulled away from the hug and Rory got the chance to really see the other people in the room.

There was a giant-sized man with green skin, a man with a shield, a man with a bow and arrow, a man with a red cape and long hair, and what looked like Natalie, only with shorter hair. They looked odd. As if they were straight out of a movie. She noticed Loki in handcuffs. He looked angry and sad at the same time. Rory didn't really know what he did, but she knew he lost and her dad won.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tony held a silver case in one hand and Rory's in the other as he walked alongside the other Avengers waiting to send Loki away. Tony had made it very clear that from now on, Rory would not be leaving his side.

Rory let go of her Dad's hand to let him deal with the case. Thor, as he had told Rory to call him, led Loki a few feet away from everyone else. He waited for Loki to grab hold of the glass container for the Tesseract. Before she knew it, the pair had disappeared in a storm of blue.

Once everything else was settled, Tony reached for Rory's hand again and walked her over to the rest of the Avengers. "Rory there's some people I'd like you to meet," he motioned to the team. "That's Capsicle, Legolas, Jolly Green, and the Triple Imposter. This is Rory." The others shook their heads at Tony's nicknames.

"Steve," the tall, blonde man smiled and Rory shook his hand.

"Bruce," the shorter man with grey hair politely smiled and waved.

"Yea," Nat showed you a friendly smile to which you returned. "Nice to finally meet you, officially."

"And I'm Clint," the last man with spiky hair and sunglasses introduced himself.

"Hi," you said, shyly and waved at them all.

"Bubs, you go wait in the car I'll be there in a sec," said Tony.

"Okay. It was nice meeting you all!" You said as you walked to the car.

"You ready to go, kiddo?" Tony asked as he got in the car and fastened his seatbelt.

"Are we going home? Like, back to Malibu?" you asked as he started the car and pulled out.

"Yea," he smiled. "I think we deserve a break."

"What about the tower?"

"We're working on it. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Good," you sighed

"Good?"

"I don't mind it anymore. I don't think it would be so bad if we moved here."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Really."

Next chapter ->

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 ↴

Marvel:

↪︎ @sunday-kindoflove @1-800-simpforluke @tomhollandslilslut @elizabethrosecresswell @lestersglitterglue @devilswaldorf @whitechapelpsychobabble @hoodpankow @summerillyxx @mycosmicparadise @captian-kenobiwan @msmimimerton

Peter Parker:

↪︎ @bxtchboy69 @doll-skin-n-teeth @victoriaholland @grecala @rorybutnotgilmore @hallecarey1 @poguesvixen @chipot-lol @myguiltypleasures21 @dylanstilinskiposts @boba-king-iroh @pantherhappy @whoschantel @imawhoreforu @dracomalfoys-wh0re

Tony Stark:

↪︎ @hermayone @secretsthathauntus

if your user is crossed out, contact me so I can fix it

[renegadeontherunn]

hi fiona!! can't wait to see all the prompts you'll write! how about 21 for rex and ahsoka?

!!! kt!!! thank you so much for the ask!!! asjkdlkas someone tell me how to write less please AKJSDSAKK

21. "Why are you always so reckless, huh? Do you ever think about what would happen if something happened to you?" // from these prompts! // read it on ao3!

They limped—or at least, Ahsoka limped—up through the forest and eventually emerged at the edge of the hill where peach-orange grass gave way to a navy cliffside. There was a jagged path carved out, wide enough for them to get across in 2, maybe 3 lines. She could make out dark blotches a few miles away—Anakin’s ships. So they had been able to land. That made one of them.

“We should go around,” Rex’s gruff voice said as he came up behind her. Ahsoka looked over her shoulder at him. He eyed the dropoff warily. “There are rockslides this time of year and I don’t trust this cliff.”

Ahsoka turned back, head craning up to examine it. “That’ll take too long.” She nodded toward the other ships in the distance. “Anakin needs our help and this is the fastest way to the landing zone.” She stepped onto the path, one hand on the cliffside to steady herself.

Rex moved forward. “Commander—”

“It’s fine, Rex. We have to help Anakin.” She tried to ignore the scorching pain shooting up her leg. Her shoulders moved with a breath. “Trust me on this one.”

She was stopped by a warm hand on her arm. “It’s not safe. Especially with our wounded.” Ahsoka could feel his eyes on her leg. “We can’t help General Skywalker if we’re dead.”

“Rex—”

“All due respect, Commander, trust me on this one.”

Ahsoka gritted her teeth, shifting once again to face him. Her mind briefly raced through alternatives, outcomes, a headcount, and with one more twinge in her ankle, she sighed and relented. “You’re right.”

Rex gave her a nod and turned to direct the troops back around.

Her eyes found the horizon once more and Anakin’s ships that rested there. She had a bad feeling about this battle. Something was going to go—

“Commander?” came Rex’s voice at her shoulder. Ahsoka didn’t look at him, instead closing her eyes, brow furrowed as she listened, as she felt. The ground shook lightly under her feet, the faint screech of metal against metal, metal against stone. “What is it?”

Ahsoka came up from beneath the waves of the Force, eyes opening as she unhooked her lightsabers. “We’ve got company.” As soon as the words left her mouth, a battalion of black-plated droids materialized around the curve of the cliff. They stopped in what seemed like surprise, and there was a shout from Rex. Her side shot first, quick as they’ve always been, and in a breath, Ahsoka was deflecting bolts from every direction.

It was a pretty typical battle, as far as strategy goes, and Ahsoka found herself getting lost as the droids approached and withdrew in turn, her spinning lightsabers loops of light in clouding dust.

Rex appeared at her side. “What’s the plan?”

“You said there are rockslides here?” She sliced through another two droids.

He stopped shooting, incredulous gaze boring into her even through his helmet. “No.”

Ahsoka twisted in front of him, habitually falling back into their familiar sword-and-shield technique. Rex’s pistols were in the air once more, his aim deadly even as he kept his focus on their conversation.

“We wanted to go around anyway. Why not block them here?”

A shot skimmed off Rex’s shoulder. “You’re not serious. That’ll get us all killed.”

“No, it won’t,” Ahsoka insisted. “Just get all the men off the path and onto the hill. I’ll bring the cliff down in front of us.”

She risked a glance behind her and, seeing that everyone was off the cliffside already, Ahsoka pushed Rex back. She steadied herself in the Force and pulled.

The ground rumbled, there was the sound of crunching metal, and then Rex’s hand was on her arm, trying to tug her away. There was a shrill gasp in the Force and Ahsoka saw a massive column of rock headed straight for them.

“Rex!” she shouted, throwing herself into him and sending him to the ground a few feet away. She scrambled forward, and the rock collided with the spot where they had just been standing.

But Ahsoka hadn’t moved far enough.

The column had completely smashed through the path and the rest was crumbling away. She tried to run, but her broken ankle clipped the edge, her stomach dropped, and then she was falling.

She blindly reached out, scrabbling for purchase on the cliff, but gravity’s grip was not so easily curbed.

“Ahsoka!”

Rex was leaning over the side, hand out; Ahsoka’s hand brushed his, fingers slipping past each other, just too far to reach, and she plummeted. Wind rushed past, rocks cascading down alongside her. She saw Rex’s well-worn helmet grow smaller and smaller, and then something slammed into her and the world cut to black.

--

Someone was screaming. There was a ringing cutting through Ahsoka’s brain and everything was muffled as she blinked squinting eyes open, but she knew she could hear screaming. It got louder as she tried to move her legs—tried, because she couldn’t even feel her legs, couldn’t feel anything but searing, scalding pain up her spine, down every nerve—and when she gasped in a breath of dust, the screaming paused and turned to coughing. Ahsoka’s chest shuddered, her throat scraped so raw she thought she might vomit.

Then she opened her eyes fully, saw the blood pooling beneath herself, and did vomit. Pounding head, pounding heart, Ahsoka weakly tilted her gaze up. Far above her was blurred movement, a wave of white dotted with blue swirled down and around and back up again. Her neck ached so much it tingled, turning numb. Her wrist vibrated and beeped.

Wait, that wasn’t right. Wrists don’t normally do that. She slowly moved her arm up onto her stomach, saw the faint blink of green that was, she realized after a few stuttering breaths, her comm. Another second in agony and she clicked the call through, surprised it was still working at all.

“Ahsoka!”

Rex.

It was Rex. Some of the fear swelling in her throat eased at the confirmation of his presence. Rex was there. He’d know what to do.

“Ahsoka? Can you hear me?”

She licked cracking lips. “Yeah.” She hoped her broken voice would carry. Wondered if her broken body would need to be carried too. “Yeah, I’m here.”

A sigh of relief made static on the other side. “Are you alright?”

Ahsoka took stock of herself. Broken leg, obviously, maybe both. A concussion if the pain-filled sleep tugging at her was any indication. And she was pinned—half her body nearly crushed under the immense pieces of cliffside that’d fallen with her. Jagged stone cut into her shoulder.

“Ahsoka?”

She hesitated. “I could use some help.”

A muffled swear, a shouted order, the sound of a hundred quick, urgent footfalls. His voice was tight when he spoke again. “We’re coming to you now. Can you walk?”

Ahsoka shook her head before she realized that was a bad idea—her vision whited out at the corners—and that he couldn’t even see her anyway. “No.” Her head swam. When had it gotten so cold outside? “I’m pinned. I think my leg’s broken.”

“What about the Force?”

Oh. Ahsoka had forgotten about that. But when she dipped into its familiar depths, sleep, the dangerous kind, pulled at her—down, down, down—until Ahsoka gasped and ripped herself away. Adrenaline hammered her heart. “No. Don’t wanna risk it.”

Rex didn’t bother asking for further information. The footsteps got faster.

“Are you okay?” Ahsoka asked softly.

“Yes, sir,” came the rough reply.

She nodded, forgetting again that he couldn’t see. “Good.”

“Good?”

Ahsoka blinked. “Yeah. That’s kind of what I was going for.” Her chest tightened, ribs shifting; she should probably stop talking.

“You can’t just—” Static crackled over the comm. They must’ve hit a deadzone.

Ahsoka drifted her eyes along the crimson sky, sinking in and out of unconsciousness as she waited.

“—mander? Commander?”

“Here,” she said belatedly, her brain coming back to the surface. “‘m here. ‘m fine.” Trees rustled in the wind. Ahsoka thought she could hear them coming, not just over the comm, but actually hear them, in the distance. She suddenly remembered where she was. “Gonna try to get out.”

Rex’s voice bit through the air immediately. “No, don’t. You’ll hurt yourself more. Just stay awake.”

She shifted, readying herself to try pulling her leg out. “’s fine, I got it.”

“Commander, stay exactly where you are.” His voice was clipped. “Don’t try to move.”

Ahsoka groaned, lightning zipping up her leg. “I got it.” She was starting to sweat, despite the cold. It had been cold, right?

“Ahsoka, stop!”

And she did, blinking in shock.

Rex’s tinny voice continued, wired anger cutting through the comm. “Why are you always so reckless? Do you ever even think about what would happen if something—” Ahsoka couldn’t tell if he’d cut himself off or if they’d hit another deadzone, but either way her head throbbed with pain and guilt.

“Sorry,” she mumbled back. She was completely spent of energy, spent of strength, and her body ached with agony.

“—and on the cliff—” Rex’s voice suddenly cut back in.

“Wasn’t trying to be reckless,” she interrupted, voice breathy. There was a crucial piece of information he was leaving out. “Trying to save your life.” Ahsoka dropped her head onto her arm.

There was the sound of shuffling, static rocks shifting beneath far-away feet. “What about saving your own life?” Past the haze slowly encroaching on the world, Ahsoka wondered why he was so angry with her. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him so emphatic. He’d scolded her plenty of times—follow orders this, don’t run off looking for trouble that—Ahsoka should’ve been used to it. But still.

Cynicism seeped out of her exhausted mind. “Can’t save everyone.” It was something Anakin had told her, back when she’d first become a Padawan, back when she was determined to get everyone out of this alive. When she’d thought that was even an option.

“You can try.”

There was a pause, and in it, Ahsoka breathed, her eyes slipping closed.

“Ahsoka!”

Rex was shaking her shoulders, his face, bare of its helmet, twisted in worry above hers. Ahsoka’s heart shuddered, stumbled, like it’d just remembered that it had to beat. Her hand instinctively clutched his arm.

“You’re alright.” People were moving, pushing the rock off her, and Rex’s voice broke through the onslaught of pain. “We got you.” His hand was on her shoulder. “I got you.”

[gamer-logic]

The States and 2P America

So the 2ps get to the 1p world after making a truce with their counterparts and escaping their collapsing world where they're the only survivors. They then proceed to live with their 1ps in a crazy roommate sort-of situation. The only problem is that when Allen gets to Alfred's house it's this huge mansion and one of the states opens the door making him very confused as he never had states of his own and his idiotic 1p is the father of 50 kids!

"What the *beep* Porkchop?! Since do you have fifty little brats runnin’ around?!"

Alfred gives him a full rundown on finding/raising the states and then proceeds to draft him into babysitting! At first, Allen tried to ignore them but then faces the painful realization that leaving 50 states alone is never a good idea. After finally rounding up everyone he could find and freeing the thirteen (most responsible being Delaware and Virginia) from being trapped in the barn by their younger siblings, he does a headcount.

Allen: Okay one, two, three.....45. We're missing five! Where's Nevada, Hawaii, Alaska, Texas, and New Mexico?

Random state raises their hand: I think Nevada's in Vegas gambling again. He goes there a lot to triple his allowance!

Another state: I remember Texas said something about rodeos and bull riding all the way to Dallas. Also, Alaska and Hawaii left a note saying something about hanging out with New Mexico and Tony in Roswell!

Allen: But we're in D.C.! How did they get all the way over there in 3 hours?! *States shrug while Allen looks close to screaming into the void* Okay, everyone into the bus! We're going to get your siblings!

Cue cross country road-trip like the hangover where, after hours of getting lost in Disney Land, Delaware’s nagging about being the oldest and most mature much to Massachusetts chagrin because he’s clearly got better colleges, getting into a dance contest in Maine, keeping Arizona from getting stuck in the Grand Canyon for the hundredth time, Wisconsin participating in a cheese eating contest, Maine cooking seafood, Georgia making 30 peach cobblers, Colorado making a giant igloo, Washington and Oregon's hippie phases making a return, playing hockey in Minnesota, fishing Michigan out of the great lakes, New Jersey getting stalked by the Jersey Devil who’s like that stray cat that keeps following you around, keeping New York from starting a fight at Yankee’s game, gator wrestling in the Florida everglades, getting dressed for Mardi Gras in Lousianna, getting lost in Iowa’s biggest corn maze, the Dakota twins almost killing the Carolinas for trying to graffiti Mt. Rushmore (there’s a bit of a twin rivalry), avoiding the secret service less they get caught and ratted out to Alfred, seeing Old Faithful at Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming and trying to keep Alabama from sticking his head in it on a dare, crossing the Mississippi, running from rodeo clowns that Tennessee angered after he picked a fight with them for insulting his country music, finally picking up Texas with his new Rodeo bull-riding championship belt and tying him up with his own lasso, various misadventures, including recuing Idaho from an accidental marriage, in Vegas that will stay in Vegas, finding/grounding Nevada from gambling after he almost lost 50 grand and Wyoming to a circus, they finally arrive in Roswell.

Allen, too tired to care at this point: Alright! Who's this Tony New Mexico, Hawaii, and Alaska said they we're with?

Maryland: He's Dad's cool alien friend from 1947. New Mexico likes hanging out with him in his spaceship playing pranks on Britain and the other nations!

Allen hardly believes her but is too tired to care at this point: A-Alien? Sure, why not?! Let’s just go get them! Maybe we’ll run into Nessie too!

Iowa whispering to Ohio: But isn’t Nessie in Scotland?

Ohio: *shrugs*

After falling into a series of booby traps a la Alaska, they finally track down Tony’s ship in Alaska and find the three playing video games with Tony. It finally registers in Allen’s mind that there’s a real freakin’ alien in front of him playing Mario Kart.

Allen: T-t-that’s an….

State: Yep!

Allen: And he’s playing video games….

States: Yep!

Allen, not able to handle this anymore: *faints*

After a not so long drive back to D.C. courtesy of New Jersey’s driving, Getting KFC in Kentucky for supper with vegan salad for Allen and irritating said state in the process, and almost forgetting Rhode Island, they finally make it bake to D.C. and settle Allen down on the couch, gathering around him to watch a Marvel marathon acting like the innocent little angels they’re not. They also duct tape California’s mouth shut and tie her up with Texas’ lasso because she wouldn’t stop complaining about watching her newest one instead. Alfred finally arrives home from a meeting in Berlin around the time they finish Doctor Strange and sees Allen crashed on the couch with the states around him.

Alfred: So did you have a good time with Uncle Allen?

States: We sure did!

Wisconsin bragging about his trophy made entirely of cheese: I’m the king of cheese once again!

Alfred: Great! Now it’s off to bed everyone!

States: Aww! But we wanted to stay up and play with Uncle Allen!

Alfred: No buts, you can play again tomorrow! Now off to bed!

The states start trudging up to their rooms with California finally being freed. Georgia putting a blanket over Allen, Hawaii putting a hibiscus print pillow under his head, and Maryland putting a note on the end table as they go out. Allen finally wakes up and Alfred, watching the rest of the marathon notices.

Alfred: You were awesome with them dude! I’m going to let you babysit from now on!

Allen: *Screams and faints again*

Alfred: Heh! He’s so excited! *Munches on popcorn*

The next morning Allen wakes up and reads the note: “Thanks for taking care of all of us today! We had a lot of fun, Uncle Allen! From the states. P.S. You were super cool playing baseball at Yankee stadium! Teach us sometime? Also, there's a salad for you in the fridge! :)"

He crumbles the note and puts it in his jacket trying not to break his tough-guy persona. But later when no one looking, he takes it out with a small smile and thinks these brats aren’t so bad after all.

Eventually, they grew on him and Allen comes to consider the all the states like his own secretly loving it when they call him Uncle Allen. They may be little gremlins but his gremlins and if you so much as touch one hair on their head you’ll get a face full of his nailed bat!

Just another day in the Jones’ household!

Meanwhile In Canada:

James is babysitting the provinces for Mathew and is currently in drill sergeant mode pacing in front of the nervous, with the exception of Quebec who's extremely excited, lined-up provinces. Kumajiro (cub) and Kuma (adult) are just chilling and watching them with whistles around their necks and cute little maple leaf hats courtesy of British Columbia.

James: All right, listen up! I’m going to teach you all how to rough it and survive out in the wilderness! Now, who knows how to start a fire?

All the provinces turn to stare at Manitoba.

Manitoba: Oh, come on! I set fire to Papa’s flannel shirt collection one time!

James: Okaaaaay ignoring that, everybody get into groups of two and I’ll assign jobs!

Nova Scotia raises her hand: But there’s thirteen of us!

James: Fine then, eenie meenie miny mo… *Points to Prince Edward Island* you! Prissy pants boy you're with me! We’re gathering firewood!

P.E.I. looking up from his mirror: Excuse me!? I’m not gonna get these designer clothes dirty picking up filthy wood!

James *facepalms*: Give me that! *Proceeds to chuck the mirror into the lake much to P.E.I’s horror and Ontario’s glee!*

(They don't get along because of P.E.I.’s arrogant personality and constant declaring himself in charge despite Ontario being the oldest and having the capital).

James: We’re out here to survive off the land which means no cell phones, no internet, and definitely NO BEAUTY PRODUCTS. NOW IS THAT CLEAR?!

Provinces: Sir, yes sir!

James being the big softie that he is but won't admit: Good! Now we meet back here by sunset and we’ll roast marshmallows!

Everyone hurries and gets on with their jobs with Alberta somehow ending up stuck in a tree and harassed by woodpeckers and Yukon and Saskatchewan being the most successful by communicating with/befriending a family of beavers that help them build a shelter. By the end of the day, James also feels a sense of fatherly protectiveness and pride over the provinces like Allen. he also secretly loves it when they call him Uncle James. Nunavut also manages to find bigfoot who helps gather food much to James’ shock!

[elena-reina]

First Love - Harry Potter x Reader

Request: Hiya! I love your writing & just spent the last few hours binge-reading your Draco imagines. Could you write a Harry Potter imagine with a post-war Harry who becomes a DADA Professor & the reader is the new Potions Professor. The backstory could be the reader tagged along with Harry somewhere dangerous with him. They were dating but he broke up with her to keep her safe in later years. They haven't spoken since he broke up with her but haven't moved on. Thank you so much! - Anon

Warnings: none

Part 2

"I think I want to stay back," said a student named Zamira in your Potions class, "I do miss my parents back home, but I really want to spend a Christmas here with you guys."

“That would be perfect! We could visit Hogsmeade and have sleepovers in each others room,” her friend sighed happily.

You looked over at Zamira and gave a small smile. Walking by her table with your hands behind your back, she noticed your presence and shyly went back to working on her potion.

“Well I think it would be best if you were to quickly speak to Professor McGonagall if you’d like to stay here for Christmas, sweetie.”

“You don’t think it’s too late?” she asked, lifting her gaze.

Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays so she could have a headcount. There was still a few days left before the students left for Christmas.

“No, of course not. Class is about to be over in a few minutes. Put your potion on the shelf and you can get a headstart to the Grand Hall.”

Her eyes lit up and she stood up eagerly.

“Thank you, Professor Y/L/N! You’re the best,” she smiled, and rushed to do as you said.

After class, you slowly made your way to the Grand Hall. You stood at the table with the other Professors as Professor McGonagall gave her usual speech to the students about the holidays. You conversed in light conversation with the others, until you stopped mid sentence.

There stood a person you don’t recall seeing before. You no longer could focus on the person talking to you. Harry Potter locked eyes with yours and softened. A wave of emotions hit you all at once.

Harry's feet touched the road. He saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the mist line of black mountains beyond the village and the curve in the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts, and light spilling from the windows of the Three Broomsticks. He remembered with piercing accuracy, how he had landed here nearly a year before, you comfortingly held onto his arm keeping your hood over your head as you and Harry walked together.

The air was rent by a scream that sounded like Voldemort's when he had realized the cup had been stolen: It tore at every nerve in Harry's body, and he knew that your guys’ appearance had caused it.

“Put up your hood,” you instructed lowly, avoiding contact with anyone around. He bowed his head, putting on his hood.

The air through which you needed to move, seemed to have become solid as the harsh winds slapped you everywhere it could. You could not Disapparate; the Death Eaters at the moment had casted their charms well. 

The cold was biting deeper and deeper into you, making you snuggle closer to Harry. He protectively held you in his chest, giving your temple a light, reassuring kiss. He knew you were nervous. You didn’t want anything to happen to him, but you would rather be there fighting alongside him instead of waiting back at Hogwarts to see if he would return home or not. 

The two of you retreated down the side street, groping your way along the wall trying not to make a sound. Then, around the corner, gliding noiselessly, came dementors, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. 

Could they sense fear in the vicinity? 

Absolutely. They seemed to be coming quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths you detested, tasting despair in the air, closing in. You shakily reached for your wand, but Harry beat you to it. 

He raised his wand: He could not, would not suffer the Dementor's Kiss, whatever happened afterward. It was of you that he thought as he whispered "Expecto Patronum!"

The silver stag burst from his wand and charged: The Dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight

"It's him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!"

The Dementors have retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters were becoming louder.

“Harry, we have to go!” you whisper-yelled.

But before Harry in his panic could decide what to do, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said: "Potter, Y/L/N, in here, quick!"

He obeyed without hesitation pulling you along, hurrying through the open doorway.

"Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" muttered a tall figure, passing them on his way into the street and slammed the door behind him.

“Harry,” you whispered.

“Hush, Y/L/N,” he silenced.

Harry had had no idea where the two of you were, but now he saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust bar of the Hog's Head Inn. You ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a trickery wooden staircase, that you climbed as fast as you two could. The stairs opened into a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of a vacant sweetness.

“You two can stay here,” the man muttered, “I’m a friend of your mothers’ Potter. You’re safe until dawn.” He then left the two of you

Letting out a breath of relief, you turned to face Harry who was still shaken up. but he was trying his best to hide it. 

“Y/N, I just put your life in danger,” he breathed. Frowning, you rubbed his arm.

“It’s okay, we’re in this together until the end, remember.”

He scratched the back of his head. You grabbed his face with your hands, pressing your lips to his. He lightly kissed you back. You immediately knew somethign was off.

“I’m fine with me getting hurt, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. I can’t keep putting your life on the line when this is my battle to fight,” he said. You took a step back.

“Why’re you talking like this, Harry. What’re you trying to say,” you scoffed. You didn’t know how to react.

“I’m saying that.. we need to break up-”

“No. Harry, no. You are not doing this right now,” you cut him off. You crossed your arms over your chest as you felt your eyes stinging. You were not going to cry; this would only make matters worse.

“We have to. You’re not safe with me-”

“And Ron and Hermione are when they’re with you?!” you exclaimed, devastated. “They’re no different than I other than we have a romantic relationship.”

“That’s different and you know it Y/N. I’ve known them longer.”

He immediately regretted saying that after it left his mouth. You jaw dropped and shook your head, letting out an unbelieveable scoff through your nose. He had really just said that.

“Wow, I didn’t know that I meant nothing to you this whole time.”

“That’s not what I meant to say-”

You put your hand in his face. Your eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. It was, now as you looked around properly, the only picture in the room. “Well you did.”

Harry felt overwhelmed; he could not explain it. “I’m just trying to do what is best you. You know I love you with all my heart, but I can’t allow you to get hurt because of me.”

You kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about letting you go because that was the last thing he wanted to do. He had no desire to doubt himself again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. 

You met his gaze, his bright green eyes held so much pain behind them. All you did was nodded and apparated out of the room, returning to what was left of Hagrid’s cottage at the time.

Ever since your breakup, the two of you never spoke again. You still saw him frequently, however you were good at cutting people out of your life and he unfortunately had became one of them. It hurt him just to see you or hear someone talking about you. The both of you tried to hide your pain from each other but it was obvious to everyone else except the two of you. 

Eventually, you had gone through the war without seeing Harry and since then you erased him from your memory. But one little trigger could have brought it back- such as this moment.

Harry walked and sat down right next to you. He pulled you in for a hug and you returned the gesture. Breathing in each others scents, both of you didn’t want to let go.

It had been years, but you couldn’t help but still feel a bit of resentment

“I didn’t know you worked here,” he said smiling. 

Pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, you let out a small laugh. A laugh he longed to hear since the moment you two had split.

“Yeah, I teach potions here. How about you? You wanted to come back to Hogwarts after everything?”

He nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’m the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor now.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, isn’t that a cursed position,” you chuckled.

He smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s something like that. I’m hoping to break that curse starting with me and the future to come.”

You nodded, returning your gaze back to the students. You didn’t know how you felt talking to him again. Your mind was going in different directions.

He cleared his throat catching your attention again.

“Y/N. I know this is long overdue but, I wanted to apologize for that night,” he began.

You remained emotionless. You didn’t want him to know how affected you had been.

“I know there were still unspoken things between us that we wanted to say-”

“I didn’t have anything to say to you Harry. I respected your decision,” you shook off, waving your hand. You held onto your own arms, staring at your plate in front of you. 

Were there still feelings? Yes. 

“I just don’t want any hard feelings between us,” he frowned, “I could never let anything happen to you.”

“I know, I understand why you did what you did,” you said.

“I have to admit that I couldn’t help but feel as though you hated me whenever I saw you through the halls when we were students,” he said forcing out a laugh. At this point, he was trying to make conversation with you because he didn’t want to say goodbye again.

No one knew how you two didn’t see each other throughout the entire school year. You just kept yourself so preoccupied that you never paid attention to who was here at the school.

“I don’t hate you. You are... were my first love,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. 

This time Harry got quiet.

Without realization, time had passed by quicker than you expected. McGonagall clacked her glass with her spoon catching the attention of everyone. She instructed that dinner was over and for everyone to return to their rooms. You immediately stood up. Turning to Harry, you pulled him in for one more hug.

“It was nice seeing you, Harry. I’ll see you around, okay?” you weakly smiled.

“Right,” he said lowly. He hugged you back, returning the gesture with more strength. He didn’t want to let go. Hesitantly pulling away, you bowed your head and made your way outside the Grand Hall.

[samwrights]

I Found You

I have no excuses for this one except I’m a dirty dirty Overhaul fucker.

On the real though, this one was very loosely inspired from Yagami Yato’s plot lines for Dabi and Overhaul. These routes inspired the Underground and Dabi and Kai’s occupations, otherwise everything else was just me being a simp.

⤞ Pairing: tattooed!Reader x Former Villain!Chisaki Kai

⤞ Word Count: 16,850. Yes you read that right.

⤞ Warnings: language, arson, awkward questions, reader smokes, I shafted Dabi again and made him the best friend...again, slightly vivid gore, mentions of death, male masturbation, daddy kink, age difference, breeding kink (ish), dirty talk, dom!Kai, 

I’m sorry this is so long. Just kidding, no I’m not. I love writing really long fics. Honestly, I’m trying to see how much I can push the boundaries of my writing and how long I can keep one idea conhesive and consistent and how much I can flesh out. Eventually these longer oneshots will be cross-posted to my AO3, I just really need to do my paper. Also Tropium Tattoos is pronounced as Tro-Pie-Um.

The color of fire always burns in accordance to temperature as well as the material that it’s burning. Watching the local Underground clinic slash orphanage burn not only red, but an almost ethereal green from the copper couplings and details of the building felt like an early Christmas warning—like the Underground was a target and the rest of the hidden city would soon follow by the holiday. That warning was only followed by disgust at the thought of someone feeling the need to go after a free clinic and orphanage in a city built out of a hollow sewer full of exiles for whatever fucking reason. 

Your heart is an amalgam of aching and sorrow and anger as you watch the flames burst through the windows of the shoddy building from a safe distance. From where you stood outside of your tattoo parlor only two blocks down, you see a crowd beginning together. Much to your surprise, most of them were only kids with one adult herding them—a man you recognized to be the owner of the building currently meeting its demise. 

The doctor of the clinic is as calm as ever, or rather trying to be, quietly attempting to do a headcount of his children. It seemed that concentration was alluding him, given the situation, because he swears up and down that he knows he has nine kids. Yet, he seemed to be unable to count past eight. He’s trying not to panic, but one of the kids speaks his greatest fear into fruition. “Daddy, Eri’s not here!” Golden eyes widen until the sclerae are fully round, pupils constricting in fear. This ‘Eri’ was special, you realize as you observe from a short distance away. The doctor is looking back at his children who are all in some form of tears and shambles then back at the burning building like a ferocious game of ping pong. Chisaki Kai can’t just leave his kids out here—not when he is almost certain that this attack was premeditated. But his daughter, his eldest daughter at that, was still inside potentially being engulfed by flames. 

Back and forth. 

Back and forth. 

Your body moves without a second thought. 

Your body moves, ignoring the screams from other bystanders for you not to go inside the burning clinic as you burst past the dilapidated red door. Upon entering, copper decor and steel support beams had fallen from the ceiling, sparking flames that were separating you from the stairwell that led up to the orphanage. There was no way you would be able to find this Eri person through the wreckage—not alone at least. Maybe your dumb quirk was good for something. 

You didn’t even realize you had a quirk until the age of twenty when you had gotten your first tattoo. It wasn’t anything crazy—a traditional-style three-eyed wolf’s head on your arm—only to wake up the following morning with no soreness, no tenderness, and no ink on your body. The wolf laid beside you, curled up in your bed, somehow manifesting into real life. At first it was terrifying, of course, but after learning how to return the creature back to your body you realize it might not have been a total waste of money. Your quirk, something you jokingly called the Magic Pencil quirk in reference to a Spongebob Squarepants episode from your childhood, was officially registered through the government on the Surface as Life Canvas. Again, it was a pretty dumb quirk unless you knew just what to utilize. Now your body was littered with dozens of creatures, weapons, hell even a telephone just in case you might need it. But the wolf was your favorite, as it was your first, and he was just the one to call for in this situation. Activating your quirk, you pinch at the ink on your forearm until it begins to peel off before setting it down on the ground. The line work stands on its own before the ink fills out into a three-dimensional mass and a now recognizable creature. 

“There’s a child somewhere here. Help me find them,” you implored your creation, cautiously climbing around the shambles while it did the same, though much nimbler than you. Fragments of the stairs were missing, some of railings were in flames—it was hard for you to get anywhere at the moment. A scream rips through the walls, a young girl you realize. She’s probably now seeing your large and somewhat creepy three-eyed wolf. Maneuvering carefully, you find spots that have yet to burn until you see a little girl cowering away from flames in her bedroom and away from your quirk. “Take my hand!” You try to scream, but the way building was going down was deafening. Instead, you cross a patch of fire to scoop the frail child in your arms and trapping the both of you behind a brazen wall of flames. Patting the wolf on the head, as if deflating it with your magical hands, it flattens back into a two dimensional drawing and returns to your body to grant you the ability to switch out to a manifestation that would prove to be more useful in this situation. You repeat the process, this time with a Phoenix from under your bosom that emerges just outside the window closest to the two of you. “Hold on tight,” you tell her as you pull her flush against your own body before smashing through glass to land the back of the Phoenix, covering her head to make sure the shards didn’t mar her skin. With a gentle descent, you place her feet first on the concrete with her family. 

“Eri!” The doctor of the clinic calls out in relief, arms wrapping around his daughter tightly. Your lips purse in a small, tight smile before you’re off on your way again, riding off into the horizon on the back of your strange creature. And for a moment, Chisaki Kai is torn between going after you to thank you while Overhaul wants nothing more than cleanse his children and you for touching his precious daughter with a vile quirk. He settles on the former, golden eyes watching your back disappear into the dark cavern of the Underground city. 

Weeks had passed since the fire burned down the orphanage clinic. Tabloids were published trying to figure out who the mysterious hero was, though most of the articles feared that an actual Hero was among the residents of the Underground. The Underground welcomes Heroes like the human body welcomes the plague—they tried to be eradicated and killed off. Not to say that quirks themselves weren’t welcome, no. It’s just that most of the residents were quirkless and those that did have one were all registered in a public database, separate from the government mandated one up on the Surface, so that quirk wielders were no secret. 

All but you, anyway. 

One of these well-known resident holders was Chisaki Kai. Quirk: Overhaul. Local doctor and caretaker of the orphaned, quirkless kids. Though, whether their powers had yet to manifest or he had removed them himself due to his vile distaste for the genetic mutation was unknown to the public. 

Another was the leader of the Underground: Dabi. The Cremation user who was presently lounging in one of your dingy, beat up sofas of your tattoo shop. “You know, most of the people just want to know who you are,” he supplies, flipping through the most recent news article. Instantly, he knew it was you that had rescued the little girl from the burning building, knowing full well of your quirk regardless of how rarely you used it. 

“And half of them want my head because they think I’m a Hero,” you spit the last word out as you finish tidying up your workspace. Your last client of the evening had just left, leaving you to close up shop while Dabi came to bother you as you did so. Not that you complained considering he had been a close friend for a long time. “Like I would ever be a Hero.” Heroes were the reason you and many others here in the Underground existed in this hidden sewer metropolis. Whether the Heroes had destroyed their livelihoods, their families or, in your case, accidentally killed your parents while you were still a teenager and you had nowhere to go, they were at fault for the creation of this cozy, dingy city. 

“Says here that Eri wishes to personally thank you,” Dabi adds, turquoise eyes flickering in your direction as you stop at the mention of her name. “We could hold some little rally, get you a medal—“

“Dabi, no.”

“—or you could just stop by town hall with me. Overhaul and the kids have been staying there while the clinic gets rebuilt.” You mull his words over in your head while capping all your ink bottles and putting them away in their respective drawers. Dabi takes your silence as a gesture of you thinking, even more so as you aggressively sanitize your client chair. “Come on, [ name ], she’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, but I hate kids.”

“Then stop acting like one.” With that, the leader leaves your shop, bells tolling as he exits. You weren’t being childish, you internally bite, silently and stubbornly. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t want to just announce that the lone tattoo artist of the Underground had a quirk that the public didn’t know about. It wasn’t your fault that your body moved without thinking. And it certainly wasn’t your fault that you rescued the daughter of the most notorious quirk hater in the city. 

Chisaki Kai was not quiet when it came for his distaste of quirks despite having one himself. Rumors floated all around the Underground that all of the children in his care had their quirks removed by his own hand, Eri included. What kind of monster did that? To his own child, no less. The thought made you sick to your stomach, only reaffirming your initial decision to not meet with Eri. 

But thinking of her brings great sadness to you. She was merely a child—a child who probably didn’t understand her father’s distaste. A kid who just wanted to thank the woman who saved her and nothing else. A sigh passes your lips as you head up the stairs from your shop to your attached apartment, turning off the lights to Tropium Tattoos. It’s not fair to deny her, you think. 

Maybe you’ll just sleep on it for now. 

 The following morning was quiet, as it was every morning in a city built out of a sewer. But eerily...too quiet. The sound of chirping nature and wildlife was a foreign concept now, especially years later. But there were no sound of bikes or clunky old cars passing by or arguing neighbors—if noise was present at all, it was in the form of faint crackling and crinkling of papier-mâché but somehow on a grander scale. It was new. There’s a grotesque smell in the air; a cross between a stale bonfire and rotting wood and warm smoke. 

Oh no. 

Oh fuck.

Panic fills your veins, throwing your nearly bare body out from under the covers. Ripping open your bedroom door and flying out the narrow entryway that led to the stairwell, you’re met with orange flames burning the wood of your staircase leading down to your shop. There’s no time for you to think about anything other than retreating back to your living room, to where the flames had yet to enter the threshold. Glancing out the large bay window behind your couch, you debate how steep of a drop it is from your second story down onto the cold pavement without sparing a second thought to how you could break your own fall. Contemplation wears down at your time to escape, you realize, as the fire is now entering your living space and burning brightly like a firework and catches onto the wooden console table in your entryway as well as the walls. Without another moment’s hesitation, you throw yourself through the window, bracing for impact from both the glass and the inevitable shattering of at least one bone. 

“[ name ]?!” You hear Dabi yelling over the sound of collapsing support beams from the inside of the building. All that’s on your mind is pain—throbbing pain and an ear-splitting cry as you try to cradle your probably broken arm from the back alley of your shop. Dabi calls out your name again, running over towards you while still trying to be somewhat mindful of all the shards of glass in fear of accidentally kicking more in your direction. Between rapid breaths, a few heavy coughs escape your lungs, no doubt from smoke inhalation. “I got you,” he murmurs as he picks you up gingerly. Another groan leaves your lips—your whole body hurts and were you more coherent and not in shock, you probably would have realized sooner that you’d broken more than just your arm. “Find who did this and bring them to me,” Dabi snarls at the small squadron behind him attempting to put out the fire that was destroying your livelihood as he makes his way back to town hall. 

It takes everything in Dabi’s body to not stamp his entire way back into his living quarters and the only reason he isn’t is because he’s carrying your busted body. This is the fourth fire in two weeks with no discernible pattern. All he knows is that it started with Overhaul’s clinic and now has somehow reached your quaint and quiet tattoo shop. As a leader, it makes Dabi want to tear his hair out. As a friend, he’s just pissed off. 

He’s thankful you’ve passed out just so he doesn’t have to deal with you bitching about how gruff he’s being. Though, it certainly dawned on him that you had probably fallen unconscious from the sheer agonizing pain of breaking multiple bones simultaneously. He sets you down, far from gently, in the residential living room upstairs of the Town Hall building. “Overhaul!” He bellows out, not even caring if the children heard his angry tone right now. 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” the doctor appears from around the corner, a clearly agitated look on his face, even beneath a simple black mask. The irony isn’t lost on Dabi despite his composure—he remembers once upon a time when Kai only went by the name of his quirk. Funny how years go by. “Her again?” Overhaul all but sneers, looking at your limp body that was covered only in a thin tee shirt and a pair of panties. Ignoring that little fact of seeing so much painted flesh, he notices the distinct smell of burnt wood and swelling under the skin where the breaks were. “What happened to her?”

“Someone set [ name ]’s tattoo shop and apartment on fire. She jumped out of a window to get out.” Dabi is absolutely seething, little sparks of blue flames leaving his nostrils as he lets out tufts of air. “Idiot had no idea how to break her fall and busted her shit. Can you help her?” 

“I suppose that would make us even.” The doctor snarks back thoughtlessly, but he can’t help but wonder why you didn’t use your little quirk to save yourself as you had with Eri. 

“Good. I’m gonna go find this fucker.” With that, Dabi storms out of the living room and out of the town hall building, leaving Kai with the woman that saved his daughter’s life. At least maybe now, Eri could say thank you like she had been asking to do. He could say thank you. 

Chisaki adjusts you on the couch so that you’re entirely flat on the cushions, mindful of the glass that’s embedded in your skin. If anything, he should probably remove those first. With gloved hands, he picks out all the shards he can see with his golden eyes while his mind wanders as he looks at the lines and colors of the tattoos that covered your body. From neck to toe, there was ink on nearly every inch—even the one dragon-snake hybrid on your face that wrapped around your temple and cheekbone. Despite your [ hair color ] locks matting your skin, Overhaul found all of your tattoos rather intriguing to look at; almost as if it weren’t flesh because the contact wasn’t causing him to break out in hives. Like your body told a story without you even needing to speak. 

After getting all the glass cleared up, Kai gently pushed on your arms and legs, checking for any signs of bones out of place from where they should be or cushioning and swelling to protect the damaged areas, outside of the very obvious ones that nearly looked like softballs. Two breaks in your femur, four in your ulna from what he could feel—nothing that Overhaul couldn’t fix. Though, he had to make sure that everything had set the way it was supposed to and that you were able to use your limbs after he did the repair. That meant he would actually have to speak to you, and he comes to the realization the two of you never actually had the chance to speak to each other before. Maybe he shouldn’t be as judgmental of the fact that you had a defect—maybe you were like him and abhorrent at the fact that you had a mutation to begin with. 

After using his own quirk, Overhaul checks for a pulse on your neck with two fingers, making sure you at least had a heartbeat before patiently waiting for you to regain consciousness. In the meantime, he continues picking out the fragments of glass that escaped his initial sweep—a task made slightly easier when the shards caught the light contrasted the dark lines embedded in your dermis. For a brief second, you stir against his touch before your eyes snap open. “Holy fuck, what happened?” You all but howl when you come to. You let out a deep gasp for breath, suddenly aware of the dull throbbing in your arm and leg as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. 

“Can you tell me if this hurts?” The doctor to your left says evenly, emotionless even, as he holds your wrist between his thumb and middle finger, moving your arm in all sorts of ways. A sharp inhalation sucks in between your teeth as it twists in ways you weren’t sure it could before. A grimace touches his lips underneath is plain, black cloth mask—maybe he didn’t set the bones correctly? Overhaul lays your arm flat, ready to make his adjustments, but as his gloved fingers padded closer, you found yourself retreating further into the depths of the couch cushions. 

“I-I’m good,” your words come rushing out, desperate to dodge his touch. Why did you wake up with Overhaul over you? Did he take your quirk away? You’d have to investigate further when you were alone, test it out in private. Ignoring the dull hums of pain coming from your arms and legs, you manage to sit up, slumping over your knees before you realized where you were. “Town hall?”

“Yes. Do you remember anything?” You shake your head—you remember waking up to smelling the smoke in your apartment. You remember the fire creeping up the stairwell and the way orange painted your once tan walls. You remember jumping out the window, but everything else after is met with a blank slate. “You broke your arm and legs in a few places—I reset them with my quirk.”

“Oh,” is all you have to say. “Uh, thank you.”

“Speaking of thank you,” Overhaul palms his knees before pushing off of them from the wooden stool he’s sitting on, standing at his full height and smoothing out his black dress shirt and slightly creased slacks. “My daughter would like to thank you for rescuing her a few weeks back.” 

Dammit. 

It wasn’t like you could just say no to Eri’s father when it was only the two of you—that would just make you look like an asshole or worse; he could just kill you and say you died in the fire. It was even more difficult to decline considering the young, silver-haired girl was peeking her head from behind a partition, wide-eyed when her dad mentioned her. With your own eyes softening at the sudden contact, you offer an awkward smile that you pray comes off as welcoming. Overhaul beckons her to come closer, holding one hand open until the young girl is tucked underneath his hip. 

“U-Um, t-thank you for saving me,” a squeak spills past her dry lips before she runs out of the room as quickly as she came. You didn’t blame her. Even if Overhaul is her father, he gave off an intimidating air that surely would frighten any child. It made you wonder how such a man ran an orphanage. But to your surprise, Eri returned, though this time not alone. A flock of children was accompanying her, each of them with bright eyes and big smiles adorning their unique appearances. 

“Thank you for saving our sister!” They chime in unison. The sight made your heart swell and soften, even if only slightly. Eri steps forward cautiously, pushing through her own trepidation as she stands before you and throws herself at you, hugging you tightly with arms around your neck in gratitude. As if triggering a domino effect, a few of the other children felt the need to express the same sentiment. An uncomfortable laugh bubbles past your lips as you awkwardly wrap your arms around the gaggle of kids—you may not like them, but you weren’t that much of an asshole to deny them a hug. 

Kai’s typically hard, cold expression mellows at the sight. It’s heartwarming, he gave it that, but a part of him cannot stave off the tiny bubble of envy he feels seeing his children so ready to embrace you when they initially had such a hard time adjusting to life with him. He loved these kids—and it was quite clear you felt the opposite—so why hadn’t they gravitated towards him like they did you? Underneath his mask, he grimaced before internally shaking his head. They were his children, they loved Kai regardless and he knew that. “Alright kids, why don’t you go play and let [ name ] rest? It’s been a rough morning for her.” The use of your name shouldn’t have shocked you, or maybe it was fear that crawled up your spine at the doctor’s endearing tone. You weren’t aware that he knew who you were. The kids let out a collective groan before listening to their father and exiting the living room. As soon as each of their little, youthful heads is out of sight, you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“S-sorry,” you mumble out, suddenly reminding yourself that it was probably rude of you to make a sound as such and you wanted to make sure you did nothing to insult Overhaul to his face. A huge part of you felt that one wrong word out of your mouth meant the end of your quirk or your life. 

“It’s alright, I know they can be a handful. Though, they seem to be quite taken with you.” His tone is still rather polite, you notice, and his voice is entirely different than what you’d thought it would be in a one on one interaction. You thought it would be deeper, as whispers and rumors of Chisaki Kai being an incredibly cruel, bitter man painted a different picture in your head. But the man standing before you looked every bit as broken as you felt on the inside—as if a part of him had an empty chasm residing in his chest that could not be filled by the nine children in his care. 

“I can’t imagine why,” you reply. 

“Neither can I,” he says without skipping a beat, his tone still airy and light. Before you can rebuttal with your quick wit, Dabi storms in with his eyes locked on to your now conscious body. Gesturing with his head, over exaggerating the folds of his damaged skin, he encourages you to follow him downstairs to the mayoral study. Silently, you sauntered off behind him, leaving Overhaul alone in the living room, while you could feel the internal flames burning within Dabi. Pissed didn’t even begin to describe the look on his face.

In the office, photographs of burnt down buildings, rubble, and the skeletal framework of Underground businesses were littered across the large, maple desk. All the while, the leader of the Underground was grumbling to himself repeatedly while tugging at his raven locks in frustration. Not only had someone burned down local businesses in the city, let alone a close friend’s business, but it seemed that someone was attacking his city from the inside. “I wasn’t able to save Tropium.” You offer no response, mostly because there isn’t one to have. You felt anguish over losing your home, sure, but knowing how hard Dabi worked to protect the Underground, you can’t quite imagine how he’s feeling.

Instead, you respond with, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I should be asking you that. Your home is gone, [ name ].” He had a valid point. Perhaps you could find a few local contractors and give them some work—it wasn’t like you didn’t have the money to spare. But that would probably take some time considering, from photo evidence, the place—all of them—was going to need to be built from the ashes. “Stay here while you figure it out. It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t you already have Overhaul and the kids staying here?” Maybe Dabi didn’t notice the way your voice trembled as you spoke his name, even more so after having woken up to him by your side. But the thought of you, a quirk wielder that kept that little fact hidden from the public, temporarily boarding with a man who was vehemently against the abomination of quirks gave you severe anxiety. Additionally, there was the nine little children that also were a factor and the thought of one of them waking up in your temporary residence and intruding on what little privacy you would have—

“And?” Dabi asks, pulling you from your reverie. “[ name ], I know I don’t say this enough, but you’re one of my closest friends. I don’t feel right not giving you a place to sleep.” His quirk may be Cremation, but Dabi was a master manipulator when it came to pulling at your heartstrings whether or not he was aware of that. You let out a sigh of conceding, knowing you wouldn’t be able to argue your way out of this one. 

“One condition, bud,” you hold up a single index finger, the black quill feather tattooed there standing erect, “find me some contractors to help rebuild all the buildings that were burned dow.”

“That’s gonna cost ya,” Dabi hums, as if contemplating. And he was, but rather in estimated cost as opposed to the proposal itself. Physical currency was a rarity in the Underground, as the city ran on a merit and bartering system. Real Surface money was only used for certain occupations. Realistically speaking, he knew money was no object to you considering the wealth, or rather hush money, you acquired from your parents’ death, so there had to be another reason. Knowing you as well as he did, it was probably the fact that the faster your homes were rebuilt, the less time you would have to spend sharing walls with Overhaul. Very smart, the leader mused. “You got a deal, doll.”

 You lost count of the days that had gone by since you took over the project of rebuilding the structures that had gone down. While the orphanage project had already begun, you had hired two additional bodies to help the progress go faster so that Dabi could return to his duties without the addition of eleven more mouths to feed. Simultaneously, you had been at your own construction lot from metaphorical sunup to sundown, helping contribute and manage the two men that were hired for your location. 

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you told Dabi repeatedly when he asked where you’d been all day. 

This project was an opportunity for you to set up shop in a reimagined way—to be able to design both your studio space and your living space exactly to your tastes. It had sort of become your baby and you wanted to be as hands on as possible. 

You weren’t avoiding Overhaul, you kept telling yourself. 

Tropium’s new store front was stunning, albeit a bit ill-fitting with its new modern style in contrast to the Underground’s more rustic, steampunk look. But the charcoal grey stone walls with chunky white trim filled your heart with a sense of pride that your business would hopefully rise from the ashes much like that of the Phoenix tattooed under your bosom. 

Currently, you were upstairs with the tiny team of contractors while going over the floor plan of your currently bare apartment. Given the space of the empty building, you managed to enlarge your rooms at the cost of downsizing your entryway and living room. It still felt homey and, with the addition of a small office that served as a spare bedroom, you figured on nights that Dabi hung out and didn’t feel like going home, he had a space too. After laying out the floor plan and going over schematics with the team, you ventured back downstairs to continue sanding down the counters for your studio space. 

“So, this is where you’ve been spending your time?” Oxygen freezes in your throat as you’re met with Overhaul’s golden eyes and black mask. Albeit he wasn’t in his normal dress shirt and tie for once, but rather sporting an oversized hoodie and tight denim jeans. 

“W-what are you doing here?” Is all you can say back. You aren’t sure if you’re moving or even breathing at this point. The pressure you feel from a man whose face is half-covered is terrifying—liquid gold was dull in comparison to the intimidating eyes of Chisaki Kai. 

“Dabi told me about your little deal,” his voice rolls like honey straight from the dripper as he makes small flits toward you that subconsciously leave you retreating back up the stairs one step at time. A deep groan rumbles in his chest when he sees your reaction—not that he blames you in the slightest. Overhaul is more than aware of his notorious reputation both in the real world and in the Underground and is accepting of strangers’ reluctance to be around him. He knows he’s partially to blame for not trying to quell the stigma around him by formally introducing himself prior. maybe not being such a condescending jackass when he first officially met you would have helped as well. 

But he can’t squash the little bouts of jealousy that filled him seeing his children flock to you like dragonflies in search of water that almost make him bask in your trepidation. 

“Take a walk with me,” Overhaul adds, torn between offering you a gloved hand as a metaphorical olive branch or simply turning around to see if you follow. He opts for the latter merely for the fact that you’re covered in dust and paint from your days’ work. Bounding after him, you stuff your hands into the pockets of your loose overalls as you try to catch up while bearing in mind to keep a short distance between the two of you. The two-block walk is brief and silent as you end up at the construction site of the clinic. Perhaps your memory of the building you never visited beforehand was skewed, but it you were certain it was much larger now. “Feel free to look around. After all, you’re paying for this.” There’s a twinge of malice that paints his invitation that isn’t lost on you, but you decide to forego the welcoming regardless. 

Passing through the threshold cautiously, you’re greeted with what looks to be a regular, two story home. The skeletal structure foreshadowed a kitchen, dining room, living space, and a hallway leading to two rooms. One staircase that lead to a basement, one that lead upstairs—it was strange to see the clinic become more of a home than anything else. “Where are you putting the clinic?” You ask meekly, careful not to touch. Just because Overhaul invited you to check out the specs, doesn’t mean he wanted your lingering fingerprints ingrained in his space. 

“Basement. I figured it would be better for the children to have majority of the space.” A pregnant pause takes over the conversation once again, leaving you to roam around the new space in appreciation. A part of you was pleased with the work the contractors did for this family, a large part even, but there was a small nagging voice in your head that was still telling you to retreat back to your own project. “Why did you do it?” 

“Do what?” A brief chuckle that is muffled by his mask dances on his lips. He’s not sure which of his theories he wants to start unraveling first. So he starts with the one he believes to be most ludicrous—the conspiracy that you or somebody you worked for was trying to take this children away, or Eri at the very least. If people on the Surface knew about her and her quirk, Kai doesn’t doubt a bounty would be on her head. But truth be told, he knew this seemed unlikely. You had never bothered to even engage with him or anyone else in his family until recently, despite having come to the Underground shortly after its establishment. 

“Rescue my daughter, for starters.” Of course he starts with the question you don’t have an answer for. To which you can only respond with the truth—your body moved on your own when you saw the panic in his eyes. Also knowing he had to watch his eight other children and ensure their safety prompted your body to act automatically. “You used your quirk to save Eri, but not yourself. Why?” Your eyes narrow slightly in both suspicion and out of confusion. It was strange that Overhaul kept demanding answers and logic and reason for things you did as a knee jerk reaction. Considering you’d only discovered your quirk just before going to the Underground, it wasn’t exactly what you would call a natural reaction. Plus, weaving through danger for someone else wasn’t as simple as just running in and out of the building as it was to jump out your bay window. Judging by his silence, it seemed he accepted that answer.  “And the contractors?”

“I just want all of our lives to go back to normal, including Dabi.” It wasn’t exactly a lie—rather just a short omission of the truth—and it wasn’t like you could tell him that you couldn’t stand living in such close proximity with him due to fear. But Overhaul had a knack for pinpointing a fib like a honeybee in search of something sweet. 

“You’re lying,” he bites. You shake your head almost violently, as if the movement will deter your mouth from telling him the truth in its entirety. There was no way you could admit the fear he instilled in your bones or the anxiety you felt standing close enough for him to touch you. Sure, you may have felt that your quirk was less than impressive but that didn’t mean you wanted him to take it away or worse, your life. Knowing that he knew about it too, while the public didn’t which was a requirement for living in the Underground, only reaffirmed your worries. “Do you fear me?” Overhaul asks, making note of the way your fingers were trembling and way your eyes constantly averted his. 

“Yes,” your voice comes out as a mere whisper, barely rising above the hammering and drilling of the construction workers. A part of you wished that your admission made you feel better—like it felt like a weight lifting off of your shoulder rather than making it feel like you were denying some greater truth—a part of you just wanted to run and hide and pretend this interaction wasn’t happening. 

It shouldn’t have hurt Kai as much as it did to hear you say it out loud, considering you were nothing but a stranger. But you were a stranger that his children were so utterly enamored with and all he wanted was to understand. Yet, the feeling of disappointment is a dull thrum in his chest, long forgotten with a wide array of other emotions and coming only second to his envy. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, though the monotone voice almost sounds insincere. 

Perhaps, his jealousy is misplaced, he thinks. His children may be drawn to you, but at least they didn’t tremble or wrack their bones with trepidation the way you do when you see him. If anything, his jealousy is replaced with empathy. Despite your clear distaste for youth, you got along swimmingly with his kids and they clearly wanted to be present with you. It must have been difficult for you to be near them, even more so considering you trembled in their father’s presence. The two of you stand in silence with you looking away pretending to soak in your surroundings of the plastered walls. Overhaul is observing your nervous ticks—the way your twitching fingers are exaggerated by the ink in your skin or the way your knee bounces impatiently along the hardwood. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, come look at my roo—oh! [ name ] is here too!” Bounding down the unfinished staircase was one of the orphans in Overhaul’s care; Shura, if you remembered correctly. 

“Just stopped by to see how the place was coming,” you offer in addition to a sheepish wave. Before you know it, Shura is grasping one of your hands with both of his while guiding you up the stairs. 

“Come see our rooms, [ name ]!” Overhaul watches with curious eyes at the way one of his sons is so overzealous to include you in their little world. The appeal makes no sense to him—you were just a stranger with skin like a Monet painting that had made little to no effort for these children outside of rescuing Eri and allowing them to shower you in their affection. 

Why did acknowledging that their enthusiasm to include you hurt Kai even more so, knowing you were afraid of him?

Trudging behind, Overhaul peers through the open doors upstairs to see each of his kids decorating their freshly painted walls. In Shura’s room, you were sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around your knees while the little boy explained to you that he wanted his room to be decorated with narwhals. The excitement he had, and the knowledge of even knowing such a creature existed, was quite charming. “[ name ], are you gonna join us for dinner this time? Dabi says you’re always working, but daddy always makes you a plate just in case!” Your eyes glance over to Overhaul and his leisurely pose as he rests one arm on the door jamb. For a moment, your mouth open and closes repeatedly as you try to stutter out some semblance of an answer. 

“Just in case,” the doctor adds, as if to add more pressure to his son’s convenient question. The golden orbs you normally deterred from swirled with an intensity that, much to your surprise, didn’t wrack your nerves like they normally did. It was as if they were filled with remorse rather their typical bitterness, maybe sympathy even, imploring you to consider Shura’s inquiry. 

“I should go finish my work for today then so I can be home for dinner,” pushing yourself off of the freshly carpeted floor to stand. At some point while Shura was giving you the grand tour of his room, your legs had fallen asleep, causing your first step to hobble and throw you off balance and trip. 

“Careful,” Overhaul chimes, bemused at the way you flail to recover from your stumble. To your surprise, he’s pushed himself off the door jamb, crossed through the threshold of Shura’s room, and has his arms locked underneath yours to keep you steady. “Drink some water before going back to work.”  

“R-right,” you stutter out, hyper aware that his hands are touching you. He feels the way your tendons bunch together in your arms at the contact, even more so when your pupils lock into his. It untangles one more thread in his theories, one he figures he’ll push on later because it’s a theory just as farfetched as his last one. “I’ll, um, see you at dinner,” the last syllable rises in intonation as you squeak, flitting away and ignoring your numbed legs and blood burned cheeks. Meanwhile, Overhaul chuckles as he watches you scurry away, the blush painting your cheeks burning into his mind just as well. The way you moved was reminiscent of when he had reset your bones and the way you recoiled thereafter. But through thorough observation, he knew that reaction wasn’t fear this time around, no. Fear made you quiet, not nervous or jittery or force your pupils to dilate. 

This was something else entirely.

Something else entirely to the point where Chisaki Kai is unsure if he even wants to entertain the possible theory that maybe, maybe, you’re the slightest bit infatuated with him. 

“How nice of you to join us,” Dabi sneers teasingly when you set foot into the private entryway of town hall’s attached home. The makeshift family of ten is already seated at the extended dining table, an empty seat awaiting you on Dabi’s left with Overhaul on his right. Each of the children that you had come to be familiar with over the last few weeks had lit up like your presence was a treat—a strange feeling, considering you’d done the most to avoid being in the temporary residence. 

“Go wash up, we’ll wait for you,” you had never seen Chisaki Kai without his mask, let alone heard his voice so clear. The angelic lilt rivaled expert fingers rimming crystal glasses, hypnotizing you to do as he said without so much as a fight. Entering your room, you immediately discard your dirty work clothes and shower hastily, scrubbing off flecks of dried paint and dust. In seven minutes and nineteen seconds, you’re out of your en suite bathroom and shucking on leggings and a long sleeve tee before joining everyone else at the dinner table. 

To your surprise it felt quite...normal. Was this how families had dinner together? You were unsure, considering your parents had never been one to have the three of you gather together for a meal—they were always too busy working until the day they were killed nearly a decade ago. 

It surprised you how natural the flow of conversation was, even with nine children ranging from ages four to seven. Even more to your shock, Dabi was more than willing to indulge the kids in their stories. But the creme de la creme was seeing maskless Overhaul smiling and laughing and attempting to get his kids to eat their vegetables. Was this the real Overhaul? Had his notoriety preceded him so greatly that you feared him for no reason at all? Your intuition tells you no and, perhaps, to some degree it’s right. There was still a dangerous air that encapsulated Chisaki Kai, but it wasn’t one that made you instantly retreat like touching a cake pan you’d recently pulled from the oven with a bare hand. If anything, it was alluring as opposed to intimidating. 

The kids were so happy you finally joined them all at dinner. Rapid fire questions from any one or even two of them made you hesitate to answer but you did your best to keep your face even and amused. Children may not have been your favorite, but however the heck Overhaul was raising these ones, especially all nine of them, was truly wonderful. Throughout conversation, Shura and even shy little Eri had scrambled into your lap with each one of them taking a leg while the three of you ate. Initially, Kai had scolded them both, saying they were being rude to which you only shook your head and allowed them to stay, much to his surprise. 

After dinner, the children cleared the table. Those that were able of the younger ones brought stacks of dishes to Eri and Shura whom were in the kitchen washing plates and silverware—their duties as the eldest of the nine. Dabi has pardoned himself after thanking the family for the meal to hole himself up in his office. According to the leader of the Underground, the investigative team was still working around the clock to unearth who was responsible for the fires. You had found yourself in the garden of Town Hall, tablet and digital pen in one hand with a cigarette in the other. Drawing was the only leisurely activity you indulged in when not working on rebuilding Tropium. 

Typically, Dabi would join on you on these evenings with stacks of papers and a cigar between his lips as he bounced ideas off of you to figure out potential perpetrators. Needless to say, it surprised you when Overhaul enters the makeshift garden that was really just a manmade pond with lily pads and rose bushes aligning the sinkhole. “Hi,” you offer meekly, averting his gaze by keeping your own glued to your tablet screen. 

“Hi,” he returns, twisting up a shapely brow at the cigarette between your index and middle finger. For a moment, he’s torn between asking what you’re working on or if you had any ideas to who burned down both of your homes or even how the rebuilding of Tropium was coming along. But he can tell by the way the filter of the cigarette squeezes between your fingers that you’re tense, that you can sense there’s a reason for his presence and decides to forego small talk. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” his voice is small and unsure and drastically different from the Overhaul you were used to. Nonetheless, his statement catches your attention and pulls it away from the screen of your tablet. 

“I’m more afraid of what you can do,” you admit quietly, “I don’t want people knowing about my quirk. Dabi was the only one who knew and now your entire family knows and—“ you pause for second, hesitating on whether or not you should continue. But Overhaul was brave enough to tell you had what been bothering him, even if only a minuscule issue, you figure you owe him the same. “And I don’t want you to take it away.” The broken syllables leave your lips bare above a whisper, reaffirming at least one of the theories the doctor had about you. Of all the conspiracies, it made sense that this one was the most likely to explain your reactions to his presence, no matter how much he had hoped it to be some strange, magnetic attraction. 

You had bought into the whispers of the Underground that said Chisaki Kai’s life mission was to overhaul the population and remove quirks. 

Dejection fills his chest as he lets out a sigh. Maybe this was being too honest, his inner voice argues as it debates on his next words cautiously, but he feels the need to burn clean. “[ name ], what do you know about me?” 

“That you were a Yakuza leader and you think quirks are a plague that need to be eradicated.” Overhaul closes his eyes languidly, peeling them back open at a snail’s pace while the warm, golden orbs stare off into the never-ending tunnels of the Underground. 

“I became the leader of the Shie Hassaikai when I married my wife at twenty-three and took over for her ill father. It was a quirk marriage, but a happy one, nonetheless. At twenty five, my wife had Eri and while most children’s genetic code didn’t activate the gene for a quirk until a few years later, Eri was born with her quirk activated,” you listen deeply, soaking in every word leaving Overhaul’s maskless lips. His eyes drop down to stare at his gloved hands before burying his face in them for a moment to swallow his guilt quietly. “Eri can rewind time on living things and the first person she used it on—“

“—was her mother,” your voice barely vibrated past your lips as you made the connection. Bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill the contents of your gut not out of disgust, but rather an overwhelming surge of sorrow. 

“I lost my wife when I was twenty-five. The rate that she was being rewound at was too much for her body to handle and I had to overhaul my own daughter at birth just to get her quirk to deactivate so she didn’t destroy everyone she touched,” had Chisaki Kai not come to terms with the truth a long time ago, he would have shed at least a single tear recounting these memories he had buried. Either that, or almost hurled recalling the way his wife’s body had imploded until chunks of skin and muscle tissue and blood ended up spewing all over his chest and face. There was a reason he constantly wore gloves and a mask—the smell of cooking carcass and burning meat never left him and the exaggerated mask stuffed with lavender was the only scent that eased him. “I was angry at the world for a long time.”

“I am so sorry, Over—“

“Kai,” he interrupts, “or Chisaki, at the very least. I don’t go by that name anymore.” After a bout of silence, Chisaki continues further. Eri never grew up with a mother or siblings and after things had gone south on the surface, he wanted to raise Eri in a place where people didn’t know the truth about her or the mother she never had the opportunity to meet. So he fled to the Underground with Dabi; he started helping tend to the ill and taking in quirkless children who had lost their parents on the Surface to Heroes. 

In a moment of vulnerability, you felt the need to offer the olive branch and share your own story with this man after he bared his soul to you. And so, you tell him about the accident. How, while in pursuit of a villain, the small mom and pop diner that your parents frequented on Friday afternoons was accidentally set on fire by Endeavor and trapped and killed of the patrons inside. You were in your first year of high school at the time—fourteen and preparing for university until you realized you would need to work full time in order to continue paying the bills until the settlement from Endeavor came. University was down the drain. It took years for the dividends to be decided and the lawyer managed to get you a considerably high amount thanks to emotional damages, but riches and wealth would never quell the resentment you held towards the then number two pro Hero for being so reckless. That was nine years ago. Somewhere along the way, you’d met Dabi and he granted you a home and space to continue to hone the craft of tattoo artistry that you had picked up from working part time in a parlor, as recompense for his father killing yours. Though, you’d left that last little tidbit out, unsure if Kai knew of Dabi’s lineage. “I’ve been in the Underground for the last three years, give or take.”

You had always been rather indifferent to the concept of heroism until that day. Even more so when you had met Dabi—a man who was wanted and was supposed to be a villain. Yet he extended warmth and welcoming to you, offering you refuge in a new city he had created for the exiled and wandering. 

The grey areas only widen with this conversation with Chisaki Kai. A notorious man, an infamous man, known for causing utter chaos on the Surface both as the leader of the Shie Hassaikai and as a super villain, was sitting across from you and sharing the most intimate moments of his life. 

Maybe the concept of heroism was skewed to begin with, you think to yourself as you put out the cigarette in the ashtray in front of you. Maybe Dabi and Overhaul weren’t the real villains—only designed that way because of the way some omniscient creature in the stars that you couldn’t see. 

���I remember when you first opened Tropium,” Chisaki hums bemusedly, “the children said you looked like a coloring book.” The only fitting response you have is laughter. Neither of you thought laughter would be something the two of you would indulge in together. But the way your cheeks cinch together at the corner of your eyes or the tufts of air leaving your nostrils in a short snort and the somehow smooth staccato of your chuckle sounds like holiday bells after the first snowfall. It was a peace that Chisaki Kai hadn’t known for some time now. It was a peace he didn’t know he needed, and it makes him wish that his magnetic attraction theory had some truth to it. “Your secret is safe with me,” he says finally after the laughter had died off. 

“Thank you, Chisaki,” 

 You started coming home for dinner every night, figuring the two contractors didn’t need you there to micromanage them, until you stopped dropping into the worksite all together. With a full house, Dabi was out more frequently, preferring to be in the field to investigate the fires as much as he could. This left you with Chisaki and the kids more often than not. On occasion, you would run to the local market with Eri and Shura or had even done arts and crafts with some of the younger ones. As a sort of inside joke, you had bought each of the nine coloring books. 

Currently, the kids were playing volleyball in the makeshift garden while you and Chisaki supervised. It was no longer tense between the two of you, a sort of bond forming since that one night. You should have seen the inevitable question coming. Though you more so imagined it would come from Dabi in the form of some snide comment with sexual implications regarding how close you and Overhaul had become. Never did you anticipate his oldest son asking, “[ name ], are you going to be adopting us? Are you going to be our new mom?” 

“I-I—“ you were a deer in headlights and the question was a freight truck gunning in at ninety. Looking over at Chisaki for help, who seemed almost unwilling or at the very least unsure on how to, you shake your head before staring back at Shura’s big blue eyes. These children had begun carving a special place in your heart due to how they came to be in Chisaki’s care, sure, but you still had your reservations about kids in general. Not that the doctor blamed you—maternal instincts didn’t necessarily apply to every female. “I-I don’t wanna take you away from daddy, he works so hard to take care of you all and he does such a good job,” for a second, Shura’s expression becomes crestfallen. 

“But we all like having you around, [ name ],”

“I’m not going anywhere, buddy, I promise,” the seven-year-old boy promptly wraps his arms around your neck, squeezing tightly as if you were going to dissipate into the air in front of his very eyes. Without hesitation, you hug back briefly before telling him his siblings were waiting for him to start the next set of volleyball. “Was that okay?” You ask quietly, looking over to the doctor. From underneath his mask, you can see the twists of pain coloring the dusty gold hues of his irises and the way his jaw tenses. When he remains quiet, you anxiously reach for an e-cigarette—a fruity one that wouldn’t alert the kids or burn Chisaki’s nostrils from the scent—and pull the tip to your lips. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to Shura, you think as you exhale a large cloud of smoke. 

But Overhaul’s stomach is twisting and churning, and he crosses his legs over the knee to squeeze his legs together tightly. He’s thankful for the black cloth mask that covers majority of his facial features as he bites his lip and his nostrils flair while he tries to control his breathing. Think of anything else, his mind snarls. Think of the days in the Shie Hassaikai, think of the children, think of literally anything but the way you called him “daddy” and how the blood rushed from his brain and straight to his dick at an alarming rate. It was so innocent—there was no reason Kai should even be thinking of it in any other way—but primal instincts were taking over, twisting into a delusion in his brain into hearing you repeatedly call him daddy while he fucked you from behind. 

“Can you watch the kids?” Chisaki chokes out, standing up abruptly and fleeing inside the temporary home. He doesn’t even have the chance to hear you ask if he’s alright as he’s rushing upstairs to his en suite bathroom. Entering his room, he rips off every shred of fabric covering his body before turning on the shower to the coldest temperature he could tolerate. But there wasn’t enough cold water in the Underground or gruesome thoughts of his wife’s sudden death that could stave off the erection he was currently sporting. “Fuck!” He snarls out viciously, mind running rampant with salacious daydreams. Out of sheer need, Overhaul wraps one hand around his cock, the other bracing himself on the shower wall while the cold water runs down his spine. 

Chisaki Kai is livid—raging over the fact that he is reduced to such actions over a simple word that he hears multiple times on a daily basis. It wasn’t that he was abhorrent at the thought of masturbation in the slightest—he was a human with natural human needs, after all—but this desperation that filled his gut and fueled his hard on was less than desirable. But he can’t stop the aching he feels to hold onto that blip of memory of you calling him daddy. He savors it like the first bite of a meal and indulges it in the same way he’s trying to coerce his own orgasm. 

Throaty groans and grumbles wrack in Overhaul’s throat as he fists his angry, weeping cock, twisting and turning it as he prays for reprieve. It’s not enough; it’s not your mouth or any other oriface he would rather be shoving into, but the friction rubbing against his veins would have to be enough. He’s far from gracious at this point. Cupping and massaging his balls with one hand while thrusting into his enclosed other at ferocious speeds was all in the name of merely getting off. “Fuck,” he hisses out once again as he feels the very start of his orgasm. As much as his natural instinct is just telling him to sit back and enjoy the ride, his common sense tells him otherwise, tells him that he’s filthy for doing this and he doesn’t deserve to indulge in these thoughts. 

But he needs that extra push to satiate his natural instinct. 

Succumbing to his deeper, carnal desires, his imagination wanders back to you. With golden eyes screwed shut, he pretends it’s you he thrusting into, that it’s you stringing together languid profanities between your lips; that it’s you begging for daddy to fuck you harder. 

That it’s you begging daddy to fill you up and make you into a mother. 

“Oh, shit,” Chisaki is gasping for breath as he cums on the shower walls—the last thought to flood his mind serving to break the dam. He licks his lips and swallows hard, his skin becoming dry despite standing in the cold shower. After his ragged, uneven breathing returns to some semblance of normal, he peels his heavy lids open and stares at the fluid coating the shower wall. For a moment, shame washes over him because he feels pathetic and small. But the moment is brief before it was replaced with a dull burn of hunger that may never be quelled. 

Pathetic, Kai thinks again as he scrubs his body clean, before exiting the arctic shower. Never before had he been in such a state, even at the ripe age of thirty-two, to masturbate to the mere thought of another person. Perhaps he was that touch-starved, all things considered. 

He can’t bring himself to gaze at his reflection as he gets dressed. Adorning grey joggers and a red zip up hoodie, in addition to his usual mask and gloves, he maneuvers his way back to the makeshift garden where the children are still playing with together. But rather than you sitting alone at the patio table as you were, Dabi had joined you in the seat directly across from you. 

Both of you were sporting matching cigarettes in your respective hands with matching distressed looks on your faces. 

“We’ve been waiting for you,” you say in an almost indifferent tone, a departure from the way Kai had heard you in his mind seconds ago. It was a sentence typically accompanied with some sass, but your eyes were devoid of emotion at the moment. Cautiously, Chisaki took a seat beside you at the patio table, propping an elbow on the armrest closest to you before resting his temple on the same closed fist he had just used to beat himself off. You pay it no mind, how close he is to you, but rather put out your cigarette on the ashtray on the table as a courtesy to him. “Dabi,” your tone is thoughtful as you say your best friend’s name, making a hand gesture that signifies him to speak. 

The leader of the Underground opens the manilla folder that was harboring the photos of both of your burnt down homes as well as the two other destroyed businesses. “It’s been a challenging investigation, but after eyewitness accounts and working with local law enforcement from the Surface, I’m pretty sure my bastard brother was behind this shit,” Dabi grits out. 

“Brother?” Kai asks, confirming your suspicions of him being unaware of Dabi’s genealogy and family tree. To this, the leader pulls out a mug shot of Todoroki Shouto. The face wasn’t entirely familiar to Kai, save for the small resemblances to Dabi. Same jaw shape, same blue eye with the same dead look. 

“Why us?” You ask, flipping the photo over. While it had been awhile since you had resided let alone visited the Surface, you knew that there was some rumors in the air about the start of a war, but what possible reason did Todoroki have for going after the Underground when everyone kept to themselves? For Chisaki, who ran a free clinic, and his children? What about you—why go after you?

Outside of Dabi, hadn’t the Todoroki family tortured you enough?

The city leader takes a deep breath, exhaling smoke as he extinguishes the dead cigarette on the ashtray. According to the patchwork man, Todoroki had confessed that he was selected for a covert mission from the Hero Association. The primary goal was to eradicate any and all quirk wielders within the Underground so they didn’t procreate further, so no overpowered quirks would mutate in the next generation of Underground born children. Overhaul lets out a scoff at the explanation—leave it to the Heroes to act so recklessly and selfishly. 

If quirk mutation was the concern, only him and Eri would have been targeted, maybe Dabi as well. Probably Dabi as well. But they burned down Tropium Tattoos, the home of you whom had the legally registered quirk Life Canvas up on the Surface. They burned down a farm whose owner had a quirk that could manipulate light and sunshine—whose farm fed the patrons of the Underground. They burned down the house of the guy who had a weird magnet quirk. It sounds more useless than he actually is—Dabi ended up capitalizing on his manipulation of magnets to create magnetic elevators up to the surface for supply runs and other necessities. 

This was about population control. 

It was a form of genocide that Overhaul himself was all too familiar with. 

“Well that’s fucked,” you sneer, reaching for one more cigarette, “the fuck is wrong with your family, dude, and why are they all trying to kill me and my family?” Chisaki turns his head in curiosity, no longer resting on his knuckles. The only time you had brought up your family, around him at least, was when Endeavor killed your parents—

Oh. 

He pretends he doesn’t feel disappointment when he realizes you weren’t implying he and the children were your family. 

“Why the hell do you think I left, [ name ]?” Chisaki almost feels as if he shouldn’t be present for this conversation; like it was meant to be private between the two of you. But he can’t bring himself to leave your side, not with the way anger is crinkling in the form of crow’s feet at the corner of your eyes. Dabi excuses himself after a long bout of silence, leaving you to stew in your bitterness while Overhaul directs the kids to wash up for dinner. You don’t realize all nine of them had left the garden until the doctor is standing over you, despite the small wisps of smoke billowing from your cigarette with a hand extended towards you to pull you from the patio chair. You’re sure to extinguish the stick, knowing how the smell often offended him before taking it. 

“Why don’t you go rest inside for a minute and wash up while I make dinner?” He offers quietly as he pulls you to your feet. The entire time, Chisaki maintains eye contact, his golden orbs unwilling to break their trance with your form. But thanks to the distress and the rapid pace that your brain is moving, you aren’t even aware of your surroundings or the way Chisaki is just standing in front of you until you’re running into his broad chest. Instinctually, you recoil away from him. Not out of disgust or fear like before, but rather respect, knowing how he is about touch and physical contact. 

“Sorry—“ his arms are nestling at your waist to keep you in close proximity and you’re suddenly reminded of the time your legs fell asleep at the orphanage and you had stumbled trying to walk. Chisaki had been there then too, holding you steady much like he was now. There was something drastically different to the scenario now compared to back then. The doctor didn’t shy away from the contact anymore, didn’t draw his hands back like he touched a freshly stoked lump of coal or break out into itchy hives. If anything, his gloved hands lingered just a little bit longer—too long even for Chisaki—before gingerly patting your head and retreating inside the home. 

And maybe if you weren’t trying to process the fact that the Surface was attempting to start a war with the Underground, you would have dwelled more on the warmth and security coming from Kai. The poise he held coupled with the fire and desire in his eye would have been enough to reassure that everything was going to be alright.

Dabi never came back that night. Rather than leaving his head seat at the dining table empty, Chisaki sat to your left with his daughter filling his space temporarily. You sat directly across from Eri, the girl who was once too timid to thank you now smiled brightly every time you looked at her. Other than your best friend’s absence, dinner was relatively average. Conversation went on as normal, sharing laughter and smiles between all of you—it was a nice delusion that for a moment, you were all a complete family and you weren’t so enrapt with the heartbreak of knowing these ten humans were targets to the surface. 

The children cleared the table as they always did, but rather than having the two oldest do the dishes, you offered to clean up instead. “Why don’t you kids gather up in the living room and have daddy put on a movie for you?” Clearly excited from the reprieve of duty, the orphans all head off, touting something along the lines of Frozen versus Tangled. But your back is already turned away from the family, getting started on putting away leftovers and scraping away scraps on plates and entirely missing the way Kai’s eyes drain from gold to a murky mustard. It misses the way his jaw clenches tightly as he settles the debate for his children, turning on Tangled—the clearly more superior film—before he returns to the kitchen. 

The sleeves of your ragline tee are pushed above your elbows as you hum an unknown hymn, unaware of Kai stepping cautiously toward you. Despite having just eaten, the doctor is filled with a renewed hunger entirely as his grip finds limp purchase on your hips much like they had before dinner. “You know, I think we need to have a talk about you calling me ‘daddy’ in front of the children,” he murmurs hotly against the shell of your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. Your blood is torn between running cold from the predatory drawl in his words and boiling from the sudden close contact. 

“I-I’m sorry, should I stop?” Kai licks his lips before running his teeth behind your ear and down your neck, suckling on the flesh as he mumbles a response. 

“Do you want to?” You contemplate his question in full, though it proves to be a challenge with the way he’s pressing warm, open mouth kisses to your neck and shoulder and the way his hands are kneading at your hips. “Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?” He asks again, his voice a low grumble yet somehow is louder than thunder as it isn’t hidden behind a mask. Had this been months ago when he had asked you an identical question when you were perusing the reconstruction of the orphanage, you would have said yes again. But this wasn’t fear—fear wasn’t a word you associated with Chisaki Kai anymore. 

Warmth. Strength. Dedication. Resolve. 

Love. 

Those were the words you associated with him now. 

“No,” you finally respond, shutting off the water before turning to face him. It was a rare, momentous occasion when you got to gaze upon his bare face outside of having meals together. His golden eyes swirl with elation, even more so as your painted fingers brush stray locks that fallen just over his brows. Despite a rather simple appearance, especially in comparison to yours, there’s something elegantly charming about Chisaki Kai that had never gotten the full appreciation he deserved. 

Tentatively, you nudge him closer to you from the back of his neck until your lips are pressed against his. For you, it’s an experiment just to feel him in such a manner. For Kai, it’s torture in every sense of the word because it’s a tease after all of the salacious thoughts that have marred his imagination. Taking a leap of faith, his arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body flush against his because right now there isn’t enough contact in the world that would satisfy him. 

The once delicate, experimental kiss becomes hungrier at his hand as he’s exploring your mouth with tongue, groaning as he does so. The scent of smoke and fresh cotton wafts into his nostrils between his sharp intakes of breath as he refuses to break contact. It’s as if he’s trying to commit the moment to memory, to burn it into his brain. 

As if this was never going to happen ever again. 

“Kai,” you whimper out his name, his true name, between pants of breathlessness for the first time. Just as gingerly as before, your fingers are cradling the man before you by the temples. You’re gazing at him fully, unabashedly, as you run a thumb just below his distinct lower lashes. Chisaki’s head dips a bit further into your brief touch before you skip away from him. 

“Wait, where do you think you’re going?”

“Come on, let’s go watch the movie with the kids,” you chime, holding a hand out to him as if he didn’t just have you all but pinned to the kitchen sink. 

“I was serious when I said we needed to have a talk.” Despite his verbal protest, he takes your hand in his, trailing behind as you saunter off towards the living room where the children are fully invested in the film. Plopping down on an empty space on the couch, you bring Kai with you until he’s nearly resting on top of you. For a moment, he releases your hand, opting to wrap an arm around you to pull you closer. “Back to avoiding me, angel?” The doctor grumbles into your ear, low enough so as not to alert the little ones. 

“Figured it would be better to not risk being interrupted,” you whisper back, smirk twisting your lips. Chisaki’s licks his own dry plains, tugging you even closer so that you’re sitting on one of his thighs instead. That predatory miasma that surrounds him on a day to day basis is seeping out of him tenfold, but intimidation when it came to Kai was now a foreign concept to you. It brought back that same seductively dangerous feeling you’d felt the first time you had dinner with the family or, thinking back further, to when you went to scope out the renovations. A part of you wonders if that fear you once had was displaced as soon as you knew he was going to keep your quirk a secret. Displaced with an attraction to him that was easily confused with fear. 

A part of you wonders if you ever really did fear him at all. 

Maybe you didn’t. 

Your mindless thoughts wander to anything other than the screen, casually leaning back so that your head settled on Kai’s clavicle. The doctor looks down at you with a curiosity that is replaced with a warmth that temporarily quelled his lust. As much as he had been fighting his day dreams of fucking you, having you in his arms surrounded by his kids stoked a different fire inside him. 

He didn’t want this domestic moment to end. 

He hopes that desire translates into the simple gesture of his lips pressing into your hair. 

Chisaki Kai was finally caving into his wants and being honest with himself. He doesn’t want this makeshift family to go back to normal when you finally returned to Tropium or when his family returns to the Underground clinic. There isn’t a single cell in his body that believes having you in his lap and curled into his chest feels anything other than right. He’s overwhelmed with the idea, the fantasy, of you moving in and being with the family. Your family—in the collective sense—with Kai by your side with your nine orphans. 

During the lantern scene of the film, he presses another kiss where the roots of your hair meet your forehead, lips lingering a little longer than normal. In response, you look up at him curiously to find his muted golden eyes staring right at you. There was a plethora of different things that Chisaki wanted to say to you, especially with the way you look so heavenly in his arms. But he settles with the murmur of, “I don’t want things to go back to normal.” 

“Neither do I,” you whisper, gracefully accepting the way Kai’s lips mould over yours almost lovingly. In a sense, it’s your way of finally admitting to yourself the feelings that worked and wriggled their way into your chest. The thought of returning to your lonely little two-bedroom apartment by yourself just seemed daunting now, despite the initial rush to get to work on the remodel. No more waking up to bright eyes at the table for breakfast or coloring with the kids; no more having Kai cook a delectable meal or having him accompany you in the garden for a smoke. It broke your heart just thinking about all you would be missing out on when life returned to somewhat normal, war aside. 

The doctor sucks gingerly on your lower lip, nipping slightly with his canines as his tongue wholeheartedly dances with yours. The kiss is full of longing and desire and it made his brain go fuzzy with strange thoughts. A part of him can’t remember ever feeling this recurring surge of wanton lust and infatuation when Kai would kiss his wife and, in regular circumstances, he would have felt guilt over it. But this warm, wet entanglement of your tongues is more loving than he was accustomed to and it excited him. Than you were even accustomed to. 

“So stay with me, sweetheart,” the nickname he’s given you sounds almost patronizing. But the admiration that seems to be laced in with it sends a shiver down your spine and leaves the hairs on your arms standing at full attention as the film comes to an end. “Time for bed, children. We’ll be by in a little bit to check on you,” Chisaki calls out to his protesting kids, though making no motion to move from his planted position on the sofa. When he’s certain that all nine of them are out of earshot, he adjusts you in his lap so that both of your legs are draped over his thighs. You call out his name, pulling him from his thoughts that take him far away from the present. 

“You said you wanted to talk,” you remind him. A part of you is afraid to start conversation because you aren’t sure what direction he wants to take this. Chisaki could have an entirely different meaning of returning to normal than you, but for you...

You didn’t want to wake up every morning without him being nearby. In the rawest form, that was the only way you could piece it together into a coherent thought. But even more than that, you felt as if there was so much more you wanted to see from Chisaki Kai. He was becoming more open with touch, no longer breaking out into hives when he touched others and even going so far as to hold you, albeit very languidly as he was now. Another part of you wanted to know if he would be beside you when it came to the impending war with the Surface. 

Mostly, you just wanted to know if he wanted to be by your side too, even if logic wanted to tell you this was a bad idea. 

“Will you stay? With me?” Kai implores quietly. His eyes are locked with yours, the gold shining brighter than ever. 

“You say this after I renovate our homes?” A short, lighthearted scoff leaves his lung in lieu of laughter at your attempt of a joke. Because, despite him echoing your own deeper, innermost thoughts, a part of you refused to believe this was reality. As if reality was actually playing a prank on you. 

Of course he had thought of that little fact. It was the longing desire he felt in his bones to have your presence that he hadn’t taken into account, but that need burning at the pit of his stomach had outweighed any semblance of logic that urged him to keep his thoughts to himself.

“The kids will grow up eventually and need their own space away from the orphanage. We could always save it for them.”

Answers you were expecting from Chisaki Kai: not that. 

Had he invested that much into the idea? To the point where he planned on you still being a part of the orphan’s lives until they were adults?

“‘We’?” You ask. “And what if “we” don’t work, have you considered that?”

“No,” Kai’s voice is clear and calm as ever, exuding the very confidence that once made you tremble, “I want you in every sense of the word. I’ve already said my vows and had my shot at forever. I want that sort of permanence with you and I know that some part of you wants me too.” At a loss for words, you opt to brush the backs of your nails along his cheeks endearingly, trailing them down until your hands find purchase around his neck to bring him close enough that you can feel his lashes tickle your cheekbones. The silence between the two of you was deafening and damning, yet welcoming as it’s broken with him pressing his lips fully against yours. 

For a moment, it feels as if the hunger stirring within his gut is satiated—satisfied with the even the tender, loving gesture of pulling you closer still until you’re straddling his lap. As if you were trying to fuse your bodies together because there was no such thing as too much physical contact right now. Kai encircles your waist with his arms, hoisting you up as he motions to stand and causing you to wrap your legs around his midsection. You don’t ask where you’re going; partially because your tongue is too busy just indulging in a private dance with his, partially because it doesn’t matter where he takes you. You’d go with him anywhere, no questions asked. 

It’s a challenge and a half maneuvering up the stairs with you anchored around him so tightly—even more so that with every step he took ended up grinding your pelvis along his ever-growing erection. Kai felt liberated this time around, shamelessly rubbing against you this time rather than scurrying off for a cold shower and a five-minute session with his hand. Your eyes open as he unceremoniously tosses you onto the plush blanket of your borrowed bed. Immediately, you’re greeted with the sight of Chisaki Kai hastily shredding off his tee shirt and lounge pants, leaving the doctor in strained boxer briefs. 

Briefly, you’re blown away by the sheer beauty of him—like a statue of Adonis come to fruition before your eyes. Even with the uncomfortable twinge in his golden orbs from your unnerving gaze. It was different, to say the least, to have you gawking at him with such adoration when he felt he was the only one doing so. “C’mere,” your voice comes out as a near broken whimper, a call to which Kai heeds graciously. The bed dips as he kneels at the edge, crawling closer until he’s hovering above you. Gingerly, your fingers trace over the smooth skin of his cheeks, tracing down his lips and neck until they ghost over his collarbones. 

“Sweetheart,” Kai groans out, snatching your hand in his as it continues to trail further down his bare skin. “As much as I want to bask in the romance of all of this, you called me ‘daddy’ earlier, and I think it’s time you suffer the consequences.”

“Yeah?” You sneer sardonically, pushing into your elbows until you’re both touching nose to nose. “Like it when I call you that?” His breath is hot as it fans over your features, the wanton lust tangled within the golden hues of his irises becoming overwhelmed with feral desire. Kai’s hand that isn’t supporting him over you grips tightly at your baggy tee, pulling harshly to tear at the fabric keeping your bare body from him. For a moment, his breath becomes caged in his chest upon seeing your semi-nude form for the first time. But the moment is flitting as he’s reminded of his aching, hard cock twitching underneath his undergarments. 

“Hands and knees, baby,” the slow, torturous movement you give in reply grates at Kai’s nerves, prompting a resounding smack to the ass of your joggers the moment your bottom is visible to him. “Daddy’s already impatient, dear,”

“And what’s Daddy going to do about that?” 

Similar to the treatment he gave your shirt earlier, Kai dug his fingers into the waistband of your joggers. Though he did not have nearly as much luck tearing off the thicker material, the gruff motion is enough to expose you, leaving your bare, pulsing core in plain sight while the cloth gathered at your knees. His chest presses against your back, his skin searing hotter than hellfire, as he places languid kisses along your shoulder. “I promise, I’ll spoil you with attention later. But right now, I need you,” his voice is something reminiscent of begging, only amplified by his suddenly bare cock dancing along your slit and smearing pre-cum along it before cautiously slipping the head in. 

Throaty groans leave both of your lungs simultaneously. Kai swears up and down that this was heaven manifested into reality. Part of him thinks this is all a dream, the way your walls are squeezing him to tightly as he pushes in centimeter by centimeter. “K-Kai,” you whimper. The calling of his name awakens something gutturally primal within him. 

“Uh uh,” the doctor tuts, ceasing his movements. “What’s my name, baby?” In lieu of a response, only pants of shortened breath escape your slackened jaw. There was no way Chisaki Kai was human, you decided. Not with the way his words sent every cell in your body into overdrive or the way his fat girth stretched you so deliciously without even entirely plunging his engorged cock. Not with how, despite his notoriety once proceeding him, he was often blatantly honest with you and certainly not with how utterly enamored he was with you and vice versa. “Say my name, baby, and I’ll give you a reward,”

“D-daddy, please,” you whisper in between breaths. Abiding by his word, Kai works his thick length into you, albeit still slowly, until your bones presses into his pubis and his whole cock carefully bottoms out inside you. His right hand trails up your tummy and dances along the skin of your sternum until his fingers encase your throat gingerly. Keeping still within you, the doctor tugs at your throat until you’re only resting on your spread knees as his lips ghost along the outer shell of your ear while he gives slow, deep, steady thrusts.  

“You like having daddy’s fat fucking cock in you, angel? Feel so fucking good around me, yes you do,”

A real poet, Kai was. 

Turning your head to face him, your fingers lace themselves in his messy locks and pull his lips to yours in a kiss that is entirely devoid of lust. He can bring the heat all he wants—it was your mission to make sure he understood that you wanted him in more than just sex. Even if the slow torturous withdrawing of his cock was absolutely divine. 

And he felt it too. Even with his hand delicately cupping your throat or the way his pelvis greets your plump ass with every thrust or the way your wet walls clench on him as if trying to expel his cock from inside of you. Kai can feel it in the way your nails are digging into the flesh of his arms or in the tufts of breath that leaves your nostrils because he leaves you absolutely breathless. He feels the love, and he wants to bask in it. 

Now that he’d quelled his hunger slightly, Chisaki pulls away from your endearing lip lock while simultaneously withdrawing his length from you. A small whimper leaves your lips at the loss before Kai turns you over, pressing your back against the mattress and sliding home once again. The passion and intimacy he feels is overwhelming, boiling his skin through every pore as he bears weight on one arm while the other caresses your cheek. “I meant it, you know,” the murmur dances like air along your own lips, warm breath inviting. “I want you in every possible way. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, experience every season that doesn’t pass for us in the Underground with you.” 

“Kai...” in return, you seal you mouth along his, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer and coaxing him to move. Slow and steady, he withdraws himself from within you before snapping his hips once again until he’s fully sheathed. Each thrust feels like thunder. “M-more,” you choke out, breaking apart your kiss momentarily to beg. His focus shifts down to where you’re connected—where each vein of his throbbing erection greets and becomes acclimated for every crevice within your cavern. Angling his hips along with your own with the assistance of his hand, he manages to welcome that spongy weakness that makes your knees buckle and regurgitate a scream in response. 

“Right there, princess?”

“P-please!” The hand under the small of your back moves to hook around your knee, it’s twin mimicking the gesture and leaving you entirely at the mercy of Overhaul whose mission at the moment is to rearrange your insides in an entirely different sense. Pinning your knees to the bed, Kai is at the perfect angle to ram into your g-spot over and over at a rapid, even pace until you’re clenching around him deliciously, silently coercing his orgasm. “Oh my fucking god,”

“Mm, you’re so tight, baby. Ya gonna cum? Gonna cum nice and hard for me? Cum for daddy,” his words are almost enough—almost. And it was as if he knew the filthy, slopping sound of his cock reaming you wasn’t enough. Though whether enough for you or him remained a mystery, his thrusts are becoming erratic as he’s panting and grunting an unabashedly as he chases his release and oxygen. “I love you,” Kai’s voice is broken, “love you so much, just wanna fill you up over and over until your body only knows the taste of me.” And you aren’t sure if it’s his nasty, vile words or the way he is utterly knocking away at your g-spot that is causing you to convulse around him—that brings you over the final hurdle and over the dam. Screams rip past your lungs as your back arches as much as it can from it’s confines while your fingers twitch out of necessity to grip something—anything. 

You’re granted no reprieve in that regard, but it matters not with the way Kai is still smacking his hips into yours, dragging out your orgasm even longer while in pursuit for his own. There is no amount of physical contact in this moment that is enough for him, even as he slats his lips over yours and slides his tongue inside your mouth to greet yours. Hips beginning to stutter, Kai is fighting every fiber in his soul—torn between the dichotomy of wanting to cum and stave off his orgasm because he wants to feel the welcoming, convulsing walls of your pussy forever. And though you’d already came at least once, the pressure was building again rapidly from the stimulation of the uneven rhythm of Kai’s hips. Part of you is thankful his tongue is hungrily dancing with yours to keep your screams muted so as not to wake the children down the hall. But the rumbling in his chest from his own throaty groans become overwhelming, forcing him to break away to and let his grunts and slew of curses fly from his mouth freely. 

“I love you, Kai,” the moans are just as bad coming from you, but those four words coming from your lips are what do the aforementioned man in. And he can tell there is no lie dripping from a silver tongue here—you mean every ounce of these four little words. For everything that is Chisaki Kai—the former Yakuza leader, the former villain, the doctor, the father—you loved the man before you. 

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he wails, the rhythm of his cock head tamping against your womb matching the pacing of his broken speech, “daddy’s gonna cum so fucking deep in you, gonna make you mine forever, angel.” Another hissed out string of profanities pass through as his dick twitches almost violently, shooting out ropes of seed and painting your walls white. You can tell he meant what he said, even in his lustful spew, by the way he leaves his softening erection inside of your spasming cunt and sealing his emission inside until he was almost certain his claim held permanence. 

“I meant it too,” you mumble into Kai’s sweaty neck as he collapses on top of you. Though he’s boneless at the moment, having spent all of his energy, you feel the breath of his questioning grunt beside your ear before his face is attempting to look at you while half buried in your pillow. Gingerly, he removes his now flaccid member from you, adjusting himself so that his form molds around you and wraps his arm securely around your stomach. 

“You know,” Kai starts off slowly. The rich timber of his voice is thick with exhaust but is warm and welcoming all the same. “I was jealous before.”

“Jealous? Of what?” 

“My children love you—a woman who was nothing but a stranger who doesn’t even like kids. They warmed up to you so easily, much easier than they did with me,” there’s a brief pause between his statements, causing you to adjust under his grasp until you’re touching nose to nose with the doctor. His eyes are closed for a moment, his long and feathery lashes greeting the tops of his delicate cheekbones. “So I tried to understand. Tried to figure just why they gravitated towards you.”

“And what did you find?” Peeling back his eyelids, Kai’s rich amber eyes bore into your own. Irises swirling with admiration before the view is flooded with a sudden closeness and the press of his plush lips against yours in the most loving fashion.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how to answer. 

He had found determination and independence, qualities of a strong woman that his daughters looked up to. Free and proud and brave, he thinks, are the reasons his sons admired you. But there’s something more. There’s a love and warmth that you bring to the family, yet a sternness that doesn’t allow them to run rampant (not that they would under Overhaul’s upbringings) that spoke so motherly to each of his nine children. And somewhere along the way for the last six months that the Clinic had been under remodel, Kai found himself gravitating to all of those exact qualities in you, the envy transforming into an admiration of his own. It was an error in his initial magnetic attraction conspiracy theory; he thought that your fear had changed to attraction when it was his all along. 

But Kai’s not always the greatest with words, and the thought of spilling his deepest thoughts of you seems a daunting task that he’d rather replace with kissing you instead. Considering you asked a question, however, he did feel the need to respond with something—anything. 

“I found you.”

 “Honey, I can still help, you know,” you whine for the umpteenth time, folding your arms over your chest as you stand in the mayoral office of Dabi with your partner. It’s been a year since Todoroki Shouto had burned down Tropium Tattoos and the Underground Clinic and tonight was finally the night that the Underground had planned on mobilizing their forces. It had taken a full year of investigating, planning, building alliances with those on the Surface, and patience for the citizens to finally strike back. 

Enough was enough. 

All of you had been exiled at one point or another, but now the Surface was trying to exterminate all of you. 

“Angel, no,” Kai chides sternly, igniting the twitch on the leader’s face. Granted it had been six months since you and Kai had first declared this little relationship of yours and, as your best friend, Dabi was still slightly hesitant on the idea. Not that his opinion had much weight considering—

“Kai, I am only three months along. I can still fight!”

“Hell no,”

“Absolutely not,” both men snark simultaneously. Best friend or not, personal opinion aside, there was no way in the ninth circle of hell that Dabi was going to let you go to war while you were pregnant. And with Kai being the father, the chances of you getting your way in this moment with him were even slimmer. The doctor pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his black cloth mask with his thumb and middle finger before letting out an annoyed rift of air. “Dabi, I’m gonna take [ name ] home before we go over invasion plans. Do you mind?” 

“Nah,” the leader waves his purple and nude hands in dismissal, “besides, we should wait for Hawks to get here before we start all that.” With that, Kai grabs your wrist with his gloved hand and drags you away from the office. He knows you want to fight, and he knows you want to protect your family—all eleven with himself and the embryo included. But as a father with another—biological—one on the way, Chisaki Kai just can’t bring himself to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way. 

“Sweetheart,” he calls out, stopping just outside of the currently closed Tropium. The grey and white building looked crisp and clean and everything you wanted it to be but you often found yourself closing up shop early and coming in late to spend more time with your nine children at home. At the very least, you were grateful that your parlor was only a block or two away from the clinic. “I need you here where you can keep our children safe in case anyone slips through the cracks.” Even with his mask on, you can tell that Kai is trembling ever so slightly. The thought of someone making their way into his home and hurting his kids, hurting you, was enough to unleash the beast within. 

“I know,” you respond quietly. Using his grip on you to your advantage, you pull the doctor towards you until he’s towering over you and looking down directly into your eyes. “But you know me, always ready to jump headfirst into the fire,” his amber eyes soften, thinking back to a year ago when you had saved Eri from the burning clinic. To think that a year later, you would be living with him and carrying his child and occupying nearly every cell in his brain. 

“It’s your turn to watch the kids,” he jokes pulling down his mask below his chin to slat his lips over yours lovingly. It’s only half a joke—he knows better than anyone you would do anything to protect them. He’s known that since day one. 

“You better come back to us,” your demand is quiet and breathless and laced more with concern than it is with threat. The thought of Kai dying while on the Surface has plagued you for the last six months, even more so when you found out you were pregnant. He knew it too, knew how much worry and panic had disturbed your sleep when the realization that war was an option had settled in. Despite the knowledge that he carried about different afflictions and ailments; Kai had been at a loss for how to quell your anxiety. He hopes that circumstances aside, him reaching into the right-side pocket of his heavy, army green coat and pulling out the small black velvet box is the correct move. Gingerly holding up said box until it’s in your line of sight, he takes a step back before peeling back the lid to showcase a single, solitaire diamond set in a simple gold band. 

“I promise you I will come back. And when this is all over, we can finally enjoy our life in peace, so long as you’ll have me.”

[clara-licht]

Just Out of Touch | Part Two

PART 2 OF 2

Summary: Midtown’s Academic Decathlon team managed to score a field trip to the one and only Stark Industries Headquarter located in Stark Tower, leaving behind a Peter Parker who was not allowed to join for “faking” documents regarding SI internship. In a strike of fortune (or unluckiness) for the team, they had Tony Stark’s own daughter to guide their tour. And she was not happy.

Join their trip through the industry with glimpses of a certain arachnid and a young Stark’s relationship!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 10.4k

Warning: cursing

Note: thank you so much for your enthusiasm in this story! I really didn’t expect this to take off like it did! I hope you can enjoy this one, although I think this chapter might be a little confusing and rushed, especially the ending. As promised, I posted the badges’ designs used in this story yesterday, so check it out by clicking the link below if you’re interested.

Title Inspo: BTS & Zara Larsson - A Brand New Day

Part One | Badge Designs | Best of Me Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

——————————

Ned looked at MJ, confused. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure." MJ frowned. She glanced at Hecate's exhibition next to Spider-Man's.

Despite being acquainted to Spider-Man, the public knew little to nothing about the vigilante called Hecate. They just showed up out of nowhere one day, focusing mainly on kidnapping cases. Unlike Spider-Man, medias never really said anything incriminating against them, seeing as all they did was found kidnappers, beat them, and returned the children to police stations.

Police officers were wary due to their violent nature against the kidnappers. They always made sure the criminals were beaten half to death. Public supported them, saying kidnappers deserve it, so law enforcers couldn't really do anything.

Yet it seems that (y/n) had something against the hero.

Once everyone was gathered and Mr. Harrington finished his headcount, (y/n) led them back to the elevator, asking FRIDAY to take them to 25th floor.

(Y/n) blinked as something dawned on her, "Merda, I forgot to explain about the tower before the Museum." She clicked her tongue, irritated. "This is why we have interns to do tour!" She grumbled.

The students glanced at each other, confused and unsure about what to do. They didn't want to upset their guide (more than she already was anyway) by saying something they probably shouldn't.

The elevator dinged and they exited. Instead of a reception table like the Hall of Heroes, they were met with cubicles upon cubicles.

"An office?" Flash scoffed, "What are we going to see here? How to sell a phone?"

(Y/n) turned to look at him with a heated glare that made him flinched, "That's exactly what you're going to see. What, do you think an industry can survive only with R&D? Do you even know how real life works?" She snapped venomously, eyes glowing dangerously.

"I'm sorry for his attitude, Miss Stark." Mr. Harrington hurriedly intervened, pushing Flash behind him. "He's just a bit too excited to see the labs, you know, coming from a science school and all…"

Thankfully, a middle-aged woman came and interrupted before (y/n) could possibly curse Flash out. "Welcome to Stark Industries' Marketing Department!" She greeted them with a cheerful grin. "My name is Sarah Keynes and I'm Public Relations Officer! Midtown High School, right?"

"Yes, they're from Midtown. I assume the presentation is ready, Mrs. Keynes?"

"She was basically burning Flash not even a minute ago and now she's so professional-looking, that's awesome." Yasmin whispered to Jason.

Jason nodded and whispered back, "It's like earlier didn't happen at all."

(Y/n)'s back was straight, hands clasped in front of her, chin lifted just a bit, and her expression was mild. She made eye contact with Sarah and her eyes were calm. No one could tell she was livid just a moment ago.

Sarah smiled, "Indeed it is, Miss Stark! We know you will be punctual as you always are. If you would just follow me."

They followed Sarah to a meeting room of sorts on the floor where a small group of people, mostly wearing intern badges, were standing in front of the room. In the middle of the room was a big table surrounded by chairs, which they were asked to sit on. (Y/n) sat on the back of the room, leaning against the wall.

"Once again, welcome to Stark Industries' Marketing Department!" Sarah exclaimed.

"We have some of our team members who will join us in learning about our department here," she gestured at the group of people beside her who waved at the students, "and I promise we're all friendly here, so if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! Let's begin now, shall we?"

One of them, a man in his early thirties with an employee badge, thanked Sarah before opening their presentation.

"Hey guys, my name is Roberto Salvatore, Advertising Manager. Let's start with…"

(Y/n) tuned out once Roberto started the PowerPoint slides. She already knew everything about their Marketing Department, Pepper made sure of it.

——————————

"This is so boring." (Y/n) lamented as she slouched on the table, a tall stack of paper sitting in front of her innocently.

Peter, who was doing his homework, looked at the dejected figure beside him. "Can't help it, you're going to take over the company one day, after all."

"But why do I have to read all of this now?" She pouted. "Why would I need to know every single detail about marketing! I bet dad didn't even know any of this when he was CEO."

"To be fair, he did admit he was a shitty CEO."

(Y/n) grumbled, "Not helping."

Peter let out a laugh and gently ruffled (y/n)'s hair, (y/n) halfheartedly swatting his hand away.

"Hey, Pete."

"Hm?"

She turned her head, now her cheek was pressing against the table and she could look at him directly. "If I don't want to take over SI, will you?"

He tilted his head slightly and looked back into her eyes. "It's called Stark Industries, (y/n). It belongs to Starks."

"I'm dad's only child, as far as we know. Maybe in the future I'll have a younger sibling, but if I don't or we don't want to, who will take over then?" She wondered. "And I know I won't be able to manage the whole company alone. I'm not like Pepper. She always said I'm so much like dad, and you know how he is."

Peter dropped his pen in favor of holding (y/n)'s hand and squeezing it.

"You know Mr. Stark won't force you if you don't want to."

(Y/n) gave a non-committal hum.

"And you know I'll always have your back."

(Y/n) gave another hum.

"So if you ever need help, I'm always available."

(Y/n) suddenly sat up and stared at him with wide eyes. "Wait, you said that Stark Industries belong to Starks only, didn't you?"

"…Yeah?"

She grinned mischievously. "If you marry me, you can take my last name and be a Stark so you can take the company too!"

"WHAT IS THIS ABOUT MARRIAGE?" Tony's loud voice boomed, saving the now red and speechless Peter from having to form any sort of reply.

"PORCO CANE! YOU'RE STILL CHILDREN AND WHO SAID I'M EVER ALLOWING YOU TO MARRY-"

——————————

(Y/n) spent the time working on her newest project schematics through her phone, sometimes looking up when a discussion topic seems interesting. Despite Flash's remark earlier, the group was actually interested in and was invested through the presentation, throwing questions related to the topic here and there. The marketing team had prepared some quizzes related to the presentation and answering students now had a gift bag with them.

"That's a wrap, guys! Let's give an applause for our marketing team!" Sarah clapped her hands, prompting the others to follow.

Realizing the presentation was over, (y/n) glanced at the clock on her phone before putting it away and moved to the front of the room.

"We still have some time before lunch, so I might as well tell you things about the tower I forgot to earlier. Is it okay if we use the room for a bit, Mrs. Keynes?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you."

As the marketing team left the room, (y/n) turned on the projection and put in her credentials. Anyone could access their account from anywhere in the building as long as a capable device was available. This was for the sake of convenience.

(Y/n) found the file she was looking for and accessed it. A hologram of the tower sprung out in the middle of the table, making the group awed.

"You are currently in Stark Industries Headquarter here in Stark Tower. This tower was previously named Avengers Tower, but after the team's fall out, dad sold it. There were complications-" She stopped, frowning.

"Didn't the Vulture's daughter go to your school?"

Some of them squirmed uncomfortably on their chairs.

"Liz was our senior before she moved to Oregon." Betty answered softly. Memories of Liz still hurt her sometimes. She was good friends with her, after all.

Of course, (y/n) actually already knew this.

——————————

"Pete, hey, look at me. Come on."

Grunting, he slowly opened his eyes despite his pounding head that screamed at him to just pass the hell out. He squinted; the soft light emitting from the park's lighting was somehow blinding to him. He didn't notice that it was drizzling until a few drops slid down from his eyebrows.

"(Y/n)…?"

(Y/n) smiled at him. "Hey. Let's get you out of here, okay?" She spoke softly, careful of his senses.

Her words made him realize where he was. "How did you find me?" He asked, voice raspy.

"That's for later. Come on, can you climb down?"

Without replying, Peter gently held (y/n) close to him and jumped down. (Y/n) didn't let out any sound, as if she already guessed Peter was going to do that.

She led him to a car she stole from her dad and strapped him in before reaching for a towel and a soft blanket on the backseat. She gave him the blanket and used the towel to rubbed his hair slowly.

Peter was quiet as he let her dry him. He wasn't drenched; the sky was kind enough not to give a storm and gently pour some droplets instead. Still, he was thankful for the blanket warming him.

Once satisfied with her work, (y/n) threw the towel back to the backseat, went into the driver's seat, and drove away.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Peter looked out the window, sighing heavily. His whole body ached. The pounding in his head hadn't gone away. He was almost 100% sure that he had a concussion.

"Aren't you supposed to be in homecoming right now?" (Y/n) asked again, stealing glances at him while trying to still focus on the road.

For a moment, Peter didn't reply. (Y/n) didn't pester him and kept driving in silence.

"He's her dad."

"Hm?"

"The Vulture. He's Liz's dad."

(Y/n) glanced at him. He looked dead tired. And hurt.

"Liz? The girl you have a crush on?"

Peter nodded slightly. "He hijacked Mr. Stark's moving plane. I had to stop him."

"And you did."

"Yeah, I did…" He trailed off. "But why don't I feel good about it?"

Nobody said anything.

——————————

"Yeah, anyways, he tried to steal our moving cargo and Spider-Man stopped him. Dad then realized it was more of a hassle to leave this tower since it's powered by the arc reactor."

The hologram zoomed at the bottom of the tower, showing the huge arc reactor beneath.

"People would actually kill for its blueprints, you know?" She shook her head. "So he bought this tower back and made it the headquarter for SI. This tower has 100 floors, because dad likes the even number, and top 5 floors are private residential area and private labs."

The group started murmuring amongst themselves. Private residential area?

"When I said residential, I mean it. We live here when we're not out of the city, it's convenient. Of course, dad still has several other houses, but personally, I like this tower the best."

Because it's closer to Peter, she thought.

Besides the arc reactor, one of the reasons Tony had bought the tower back was for Peter. He realized that he couldn't stop the kid from being Spider-Man, with or without the suit. Helping keeping him safe was the least he could do, and if having Stark Tower means easier for Peter to reach when he needed something, then Stark Tower shall remain.

It had nothing to do with (y/n) blowing up at him for taking Peter's protection (the suit, not something else, you dirty minded) and asking (forcing) him to be more active in their mentorship.

Nothing at all.

(Besides, Tony had also developed a soft spot for Peter. He looked at the boy and saw a much better version of himself.)

"The floors are divided into the departments; Marketing, Human Resource Management, Accounting and Finance, Legal, and Research and Development. Other departments like Production and Purchasing are on other branches of SI. Most branches have R&D labs because dad, as I quote, will go crazy if he doesn't have any lab to mess around after a shareholders meeting." She rolled her eyes.

(Y/n) swiped away at the hologram, effectively shutting it down. "Okay, that's it. Now let's go get lunch."

——————————

The cafeteria was bustling. (Y/n) told them they had $40 inside their badge and they could buy any food they wanted from the cafeteria simply by swiping their badge to pay.

"Gather in front of the elevator at 1.30 PM on the dot. Now go eat."

As the group dispersed, she headed back to the elevator and asked FRIDAY to take her to the top floor.

A voice called out her name when she stepped out from the elevator.

"(Y/n)!"

For the first time that day, (y/n) let her lips curved up to a genuinely pleased smile.

Peter was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, a messy sandwich in his hands and soot on his cheek. His clothes were clean, although his hair was dirty with dust and she could smell something burnt. He must had changed his clothes. It wasn't hard to figure out what he had been up to as he did tell her he was messing up with DUST earlier.

Something must had blown up.

"What did you explode today, Mr. Scientist?" She asked playfully.

"Nothing!"

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

"…I connected wrong wires when trying to fix DUST's heat sensor."

Chuckling, she shook her head amusedly and made her way to the sofa. Peter handed him a wrapped sandwich after she sat down which she accepted gladly.

"How's your presentation going?" Peter asked between bites.

(Y/n) peeled the sandwich wrapping away, showing the gorgeous rib sandwich practically dripping with warm barbecue sauce. The smell was heavenly.

She took a big bite, moaning quietly as the flavor burst on her tongue.

"I love ribs." She mumbled, still chewing.

After she swallowed, she heaved a sigh. "Presentation was boring. I still have some to do after this, but really, it just feels like a waste of time."

Peter hummed thoughtfully. "What is it about anyway?"

(Y/n), already prepared to answered any questions that he might shoot her, answered easily with a lie, "That upcoming high school internship program dad came up with."

Peter stopped chewing. "That's real?" He asked, frowning.

"Of course it's real!"

"I thought it was just a joke or something to cover my alibi…"

(Y/n) stopped chewing as well and put down her sandwich. "You know, I'm not supposed to tell you this yet," she started slowly, "but dad is planning on making you the head of internship program."

If (y/n) hadn't anticipated it and held a hand in front of Peter, his sandwich would've flown away with how hard he practically jumped out of his seat.

"WHAT?!"

"You're his first of his only two personal interns, who also happen to be the only two interns of SI still in high school. He said it's an obvious choice, to make sure the upcoming high school interns will be more comfortable." She explained, putting Peter's sandwich on the table in front of them. "Pepper agrees with him, so there's that."

Peter's eyes were wide.

"No, no, that's an awful decision!" He stammered. "I'm not leader material! I barely even know what I'm doing! I-I'll mess it up!"

"Pete-"

"You saw me! I blew DUST up because I connected wrong wires! That's such a newbie mistake! And what about Spider-Man? I barely have enough time now, I'll neglect my responsibilities!"

"Hey-"

"And my school! Nobody believe I'm an intern in the first place, but head of program?! Principal Morita will have my head for lying extensively! They already disregard my internship papers anyway-"

(Y/n) pulled Peter down to sit back on the sofa and gently grasp his chin.

"Hey, look at me."

He did.

"Remember what you told me when I said I can't take care of SI alone?"

Peter didn't answer, but his eyes that looked back at (y/n)'s had calmed down slightly.

"I'll always have your back. So if you ever need help, I'm always available." (Y/n) smiled at him. "You don't have to worry about messing up, Pete. You're not doing it alone. Harley will take the position with you and I'll always help if you need me."

Peter sagged on the sofa, crossing his arms. "Still…"

"Also," (y/n) scowled, "this time I'll make sure they believe you, so now worries for that one."

"What do you mean?"

(Y/n) only smirked at him, offering no explanation. "Finish your sandwich, Spidey. I have to go downstairs soon."

Slightly grumbling, Peter reached for his sandwich. "Oh, where's Harley, by the way? I haven't seen him today." He asked before biting into his sandwich again.

"I think he said he wanted to mess around in R&D today."

"Maybe I should visit him later."

——————————

When (y/n) went back downstairs after leaving a pouty Peter with a peck on his cheek, she was greeted with the sight of Ned massaging his shoulder with a grimace amongst his friends. She was actually familiar with Ned and MJ's faces, having seen their pictures whenever Peter told her about his school day. Keeping her dad's words about formality in mind, she didn't show her familiarity at all.

Although now Ned was acting weird. She knew that gesture meant he hurt his shoulder, but what happened during the short time she wasn't there to supervise?

"Mr. Harrington," she called the startled teacher, "is everyone accounted for?"

"Y-Yes, Miss Stark. We're all here and ready to continue."

"Anyone needs bathroom breaks before we leave?"

Several of them lifted their hands.

(Y/n) looked around before catching an intern's eyes.

"Hey! Uh, Miss Macready!"

The intern looked surprised like a deer caught in headlights. Maybe she didn't expect to be called out by her name by the company owner's daughter that day.

She approached (y/n) hesitantly. "Yes, Miss Stark?"

(Y/n) was pleased when she saw her intern badge and found out that she knew the intern's name. She remembered seeing her around when she was in Finance Department.

"Can you show these students to the closest bathroom? I need to address something right now."

"Right away, Miss Stark."

The Finance Department intern, Mindy Macready, beckoned the students to follow her, leaving (y/n) and a handful of the leftover students in front of the elevator. Mr. Harrington had gone with the rest.

Seeing the students were occupied with talking between themselves, (y/n) moved closer to Ned who was still massaging his shoulder and talking with MJ in hushed voices.

"Mr. Leeds."

Ned turned around quickly, expression not unlike Mindy when (y/n) called her earlier.

"(Y/n) Stark knows my name…" He muttered in disbelief.

Ignoring his mumbling, (y/n) asked, "What happened to your shoulder?"

He hadn't even gotten over his surprise of (y/n) knowing his name, but now she noticed his pain?

Ned could only gape, leaving MJ to respond, "A kid in our class is a jerk."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes in displeasure. "And does this kid called himself Flash?" She sneered.

At this point, MJ wasn't surprised that (y/n) had known about Flash. She deduced that Peter must have told her a lot more than just Flash anyway, so she only nodded curtly.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, I'll find out later. Thank you, Miss Jones."

(Y/n) took them to visit Legal Department where the Director, a surprisingly young man on his late 20s or early 30s named Isaac Latimer-Reed, talked to them briefly about what his department deal with. SI's Legal Department didn't only handle cases related to their products and company name; SI had included legal aid in each of their employee's contract. Tony had put some of his best lawyers to work in the company instead of just for himself. Shall an employee ever find themselves in a situation where they needed legal aid but couldn't afford it, SI had their backs.

"So if someone is in a fight with her husband or something, you can help them, I don't know, divorce him?" Flash asked with a frown. Why something so trivial? He had thought. "Isn't that against privacy?"

"It's not something that simple." Isaac said. "What if that fight results in violence? What if one of them had lifted a hand against the others? Our employees are free to talk to us and give us enough reason to make a case. We had freed quite a number of our employees from their abusive family simply after they just told us what happened."

Isaac smirked, "They didn't stand a chance against us. No matter how hard you try to hide a rotten core, the smell will always escape."

His dark expression made the students gulped and stepped back a bit.

(Y/n), on the other hand, smirked alongside Isaac.

She had always liked the man. He was quite a shrewd man who wouldn't stop pursuing "justice". That was how he got to such a high position despite his young age. Tony knew he needed someone sharp who could be ruthless in his Legal Department, and Isaac was the perfect candidate.

"We are against violence here in SI." (Y/n) said out loud, gaining their attention, "Any kind of abuse or bullying is not tolerated. Whether it's verbal or physical, direct or implied, we do not accept such behavior." She glanced at Flash who definitely had a sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

After some Q&A session, (y/n) thanked Isaac for his time and led the group away.

"Miss Stark?" Zoha called out. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but can we get some water before proceeding, please?" She asked, Yasmin nodding beside her.

"Follow me."

They stopped by the closest kitchenette. As she promised, it was fully stocked. For a small kitchen in an office, it was quite bizarre to see baskets of chocolates, cookies, and snacks beside plates of fruits and nuts. A coffee and tea station on the side of a big fridge and a juicer and blender beside it didn't seem quite… right either.

"You can eat and drink whatever you want but finish it here. We're heading to the labs after this."

She let them snacked around in the kitchenette for less than 10 minutes before whisking them away.

"We have a lot of R&D labs." (Y/n) explained, "In this tower alone, R&D span from 61st Floor to 80th. Each department usually have 10 floors max, but since dad is biased, R&D got more attention."

"Excuse me, Miss Stark?" Charles called. (Y/n) looked at him, waiting. "What does R&D interns do? Are they classified to do experiments by themselves?"

"Not really." She answered. "Level 1 interns mostly make reports and do research with or for their supervisor. Sometimes they'll get to help with the fun part, but that's for level 2 interns, usually."

"And level 2 interns?"

"Product testing, chemical experiments, engineering trials, they're allowed to do them all under supervision or with their supervisor's permission. Level 3 interns don't need supervision, but they still have to report."

The elevator dinged.

"Come on."

The floor they were at was spacious. Unlike the offices with their rooms and sections, the lab was mostly just open space with tables and cabinets. On the far end of the room was glass doors leading to testing rooms, while on the other end was a white door leading to the floor's supervisors.

"Welcome to Medic Lab!" A man in his 40s greeted them with a smile. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and equally dark eyes with laugh lines around them.

"This is Dr. Henry Clark, this lab's Assistant Director. He'll be Director soon though." (Y/n) introduced. "Dr. Clark, Midtown Science and Tech."

Henry blinked in surprise. "Midtown? Isn't that-"

"Yeah, it is." (Y/n) cut him off.

"Is he here?"

(Y/n) shook her head, "No, he's upstairs. He's going to T04E later, I think."

"Bring him here sometimes, will you? We're extremely grateful that you're here a lot, but we need both your brains sometimes too, you know!" He laughed. (Y/n) only smiled at the man.

Being very interested in the health department, (y/n) spent a long time in this particular lab. Unlike Peter who was more into engineering, although he did help out in various labs sometimes.

"Who are they talking about?" Abe whispered.

Henry turned to the confused students, "As Miss Stark said, my name is Henry Clark and this is Medic Lab 01. We focus on the medic field in this lab, especially on the chem side. Medicines, to put it simply."

He brought them further inside, passing through several scientists having heated discussion over a white board filled with numbers and equations.

"While focusing on pure chemistry, we also work closely with the lab above us which focus on chemical engineering. Sometimes with H03BE too, but they're more likely to work with people from Tech Labs instead of us." He stopped in front of a table filled with equipment and solutions where 2 interns were waiting for them.

"What is H03BE?" Ned asked.

"Oh, sorry, that's the code for labs!" Henry apologized. "That one is also medic lab, but for biomedical engineering."

"How about this lab?"

"What does the code stand for?"

"This lab is H01C, because this is the first lab in 'health' department and we play with chemicals. Only scientists and interns in R&D use them though, since it's more just to make reports easier to categorize."

"Officially, this is just Medic-1." (Y/n) added.

They gathered around the table. "Currently, we're trying to find a breakthrough in our Alzheimer's disease cure and how to deal with autoimmune issues. We almost got it, really." Henry continued.

"I'm still most excited for the cancer research though." An intern with fire red hair said with a grin.

"We're going to a little fun test with you guys to see your potential! Maybe you're good enough to be an intern here and might get scouted!" Another intern with cropped black hair exclaimed.

"What do you mean by scouted?" Cindy asked.

(Y/n) spoke before Henry or the interns answered, "I will explain that later, it's part of this trip program."

When (y/n) had told Peter she had presentation for the internship program, it wasn't exactly a full-on lie. SI planned on scouting students from field trips and it just so happened that the owner's daughter was guiding one. She was supposed to explain it on the last session.

The group looked at each other with grins. A chance to be an intern in SI? Hell yes!

"You're the boss, Stark." Henry grinned. "Let's begin, shall we?"

It was a simple enough test. They were given written reactions such as (2C12H22CaO14 + O2 → 22H2O + 21C + 2CaO + 3CO2) and they had to figure out which chemical solution it applied to and conduct it. Being from STEM school, most of them could figure their reaction out, although some who clearly didn't pay attention in chem class struggled. Finding out which solution was easy, but how to make it react?

Ned grinned as grey snake-like foam rose from his heated calcium gluconate. So far, he was the fastest guy to successfully figure out his reaction, only being beaten by Zoha.

"You're fast!" Henry said as he looked at Ned's petri dish. "Can you explain what you did?"

"Yeah, it's simple." Ned answered. "C12H22CaO14 is formula for calcium gluconate, and it reacts with O2; oxygen. But calcium gluconate doesn't just automatically react with oxygen. It was completely fine touching air before we started, so I heated it up and it reacted."

"Very good." Henry complimented with a smile. "Now do you know why it becomes like this?"

"The molecular structure expands due to the heat. This grey foam formed because any water contained inside vaporized and hydroxyl groups within the compound were dehydrated."

"And in conclusion?"

"Calcium gluconate rapidly decomposes after being heated."

"Great job!" Henry complimented again. Ned thanked him happily before Henry moved on to MJ who created a bright blue flash and loud sound that sounded like woofing, shocking Jason beside her.

MJ grumbled under her breath, "Out of all things, they just have to give me nitrogen monoxide and carbon disulfide to burn."

As Ned took pictures of his grey foam (after Henry said he could, of course), (y/n) stood beside him and peered at the petri dish.

"That was quick. I thought you're more into coding."

Thankfully, this time Ned could hold his surprise and just grinned at the girl. "Chemistry is fun when it's actually conducted and not just lectured on. How do you know I like coding?"

"Peter told me about you and Miss Jones." (Y/n) answered simply.

"You can just call me Ned and her Michelle, you know." Ned said. "A friend of Peter's is a friend of ours too. He talked about you a lot."

(Y/n) flushed a bit, "He did?"

"Yeah! It's as though we know you already!" He chuckled.

She silently glanced at the grinning boy.

Maybe I should try to make more friends…

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Flash frowning at his paper while grabbing cesium and-

Is that water? Wait-

Before Flash could drop the alkali metal into a flask of water, (y/n) quickly reached her hand out.

CLINK!

A loud clink sound echoed as water dripped down from the table to the floor, stopping Flash from dropping the cesium.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" (Y/n) yelled.

Everyone in the room halted.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU PUT THAT IN WATER?!" She yelled again, eyes glowing with anger.

"Uh, I…" Flash mumbled out. His eyes moved quickly from (y/n)'s furious face to the small petri dish with cesium in his hand.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT'S IN YOUR HAND RIGHT NOW?! HUH?!"

"It's, uh, it's iron salt…?"

(Y/n)'s face grew even redder as she tried to held back her anger.

Henry approached them and gently took the petri dish away from Flash who was shaking with fear. "This is cesium, young boy. It reacts violently with water. If you had combined the two, that glass flask would explode and hurt you." He explained.

(Y/n) snatched the paper containing the reaction assigned to Flash and scoffed, "You were supposed to form valence oxide and took cesium? Cazzo! Do you pay attention in class?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO MIX FERROUS AND FERRIC IN BASIC SOLUTION! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW IRON SALT IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE?!"

Trying to calm the girl down, Henry patted her shoulder, "Calm down, Stark. This is also my fault for including cesium on the table. Everyone is okay, that's the important thing."

"But what if I didn't notice what he held, Dr. Clark? What then? His parents may have signed the papers allowing him here and swearing not to blame us for accidents, but you and I know those papers mean little to parents whose children are hurt!"

(Y/n) snapped her eyes back to Flash, "You're from STEM school, for fuck's sake! And you're in this decathlon team! You're supposed to be smart," she emphasized, "yet you can't do this simple experiment?!"

Flash, clearly offended, snapped back, "It's not my fault that you put unsafe things here! What kind of work environment is this?! You just put danger on my life and I can sue you for this!"

"Flash!" Mr. Harrington tried to scold, but (y/n) had grown even angrier.

"VAFFANCULO!" She shouted angrily as she took a step closer to him, the anger in her eyes looked so close to snapping.

And maybe she would have done something to Flash if the lab's sliding door didn't suddenly open and Harley hurriedly rushed in and held (y/n)'s arm back.

"Whoa there, calm down, Princess Stark." Harley soothed, "FRIDAY told me there was almost an incident and I heard you screaming your favorite Italian word, so what happened?"

"Why don't you ask this figlio di puttana?!" (Y/n) gritted out, although the glow in her eyes had started to settle.

Mr. Harrington quickly grabbed Flash who was just opening his mouth to retort back and put him behind his back with a quick glare, warning him not to say anything stupid.

"I apologize, Miss Stark, I truly do, please forgive him! I'll make sure he won't do anything stupid anymore!" He bowed his head.

Knowing (y/n) was still too pissed off to say something intellectual, Harley answered, "I'm sure it can be forgotten. It's okay. Can someone tell me what happened, though? I might have to report this upstairs later…"

Henry sighed, "The young man almost put cesium in water, but (y/n) stopped him."

Harley nodded, "Okay, and?"

"What do you mean, 'and'?"

The sandy-haired teen snorted, "There's no way (y/n) would just tell this guy to go fuck himself if she stopped him in time."

"Flash mouthed back, saying he would sue SI or something." MJ interrupted.

Realization dawned on Harley and he nodded again. "Yeah, that sure can pissed Princess Stark off."

When he turned his glance on (y/n), her face had lost almost all of its redness and her eyes were no longer glowing, but he could still see repressed anger in them.

"Do you want me to take over?" He asked gently. "Peter is in T04E, do you want to go there instead?" He asked again, murmuring softly.

(Y/n) heaved a heavy sigh and rest her forehead on Harley's shoulder. "It's fine, I can continue." She mumbled. "We're scheduled to go to T04E after this anyway."

"Alright, alright." Harley patted her head. "Want me to come with you?"

Feeling her nodded against his shoulder, Harley cleared his throat. "Alright then, let's forget about what happened here and move on, shall we? Dr. Clark?"

"Ah, yes," the good man stepped closer to them and clasped his hand, "that's all for today, everyone. Good job on your work! I hope I'll see you again, maybe as an intern or even an employee here someday."

The group hesitantly chorused a thank you before Mr. Harrington hurriedly ushered them out from the lab to follow Harley and (y/n) and before long, they were back in the elevator again.

"Okay guys, we're heading to Tech Lab now!" Harley said cheerfully. "It's one of my favorites, if I'm being honest! This particular one, especially."

"Why? What's in the lab?"

"He's just allowed to make things explode. Can't do that in medic-researching labs." (Y/n) said shortly.

Harley just grinned at her.

The elevator opened.

"Welcome to Tech-04, guys!"

Unlike Medic-01, Tech-04 was more… chaotic.

Medic-01 was relatively quiet, maybe some discussion here and there with liquid upon liquid sloshing around. Sometimes small pops when wrong solutions were mixed. Tech-04, on the other hand, was filled with a lot of noise.

Someone was groaning and then grumbling at a circuit board in front of them, a solder whirring (should it even whir?) on their hand.

Two people were arguing loudly over hologram displaying blueprints.

Another person was hitting a small bot with what looked like a small hammer, making loud clanging sound every hit.

Some tools were accidentally dropped, the metal hitting floor sound followed by a loud 'sorry!'.

Heavy machines made weird noises that sound so unfamiliar to a high schooler's ears.

Harley and (y/n) walked in, unbothered by all the noises around them. The group flinched at sudden noises, but they followed the two silently.

"Usually we take tour groups to Tech-01, but they're doing something classified right now." Harley explained. "Since you guys are from STEM school, we thought Tech-04 is the best place to visit since every cool stuff happens here." He grinned.

"Holy shit are those arrows?!" Tyler screeched out.

"Those were supposed to be Hawkeye's prototype multifunction arrows, but after the Accord debacle, Tony dumped them."

"What's that?" Cindy pointed at black bracelets on a display. "It looks like normal bracelets…"

"Black Widow's widow bites." (Y/n) answered.

Cindy tilted her head, "Bites?"

"Electroshock weapon."

"W-Weapon?"

"You just saw Hawkeye's weapon, what makes Black Widow's surprise you?" (Y/n) scoffed, still feeling irritated from before.

"W-Well…"

"Tech-04 is the best lab because a lot of Avengers weapons were designed here!" Harley exclaimed. "Almost all of them had something that came out from this lab sans Tony because he doesn't like people touching his stuff. A bit stuck up, isn't he?" He chortled.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes at him. "Can't help it. The last time he trusted his stuff with someone, Stane dealt him a bad hand."

"Not true, the last time was when he left JARVIS with me!" Harley argued.

"That was because he had no choice, dumbass."

"Still counts!"

"Sure."

Sniffling, Harley turned away from the girl.

"Anyway, we have another test for you all! You got tested in Medic-01 to see your chemistry knowledge, here in Tech-04 we'll see your engineering skill!"

They gathered around a big white table, scraps and tools scattered on top.

"Nothing hard, just make a simple bot in 20 minutes. You can use everything on this table. Don't forget to name them, we'll take a look and judge them. Who knows, maybe someone will like your work and want to scout you."

"Time starts now!"

Harley left the group who immediately began working and stood a little to the side with (y/n).

"How are you feeling?" He murmured.

(Y/n) tilted her head up, softly hitting her head against the wall behind her. "Still a bit annoyed, to be honest. That little piece of shit." She grumbled.

"I feel like I've seen him before."

"That's Flash, Harls."

"Flash?" Harley turned to her, startled. "That Flash? The one Peter talked about?"

She nodded.

"Well… Fuck."

"Fuck, indeed."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, watching their assigned group tinkering with various tools while chattering within each other. (Y/n)'s eyes followed Flash's every movement like a hawk.

"I think he did something to Leeds earlier." She mumbled.

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but Jones confirmed it."

Harley hummed and looked around. His eyes caught a tablet sitting on top of a cabinet near them. He pushed himself away from the wall.

"Wait here."

He approached the cabinet and grabbed the tablet before going back to (y/n).

The tablet, a standard StarkPad issued for every department in SI, was locked with password. They easily unlocked it with the lab's code.

Harley quickly accessed FRIDAY with his credentials.

"FRI?"

"How can I help you, Harley?" Her voice came out from the tablet.

"Can you show us security footage from- when was it again?"

(Y/n) snorted.

"Don't laugh! You didn't tell me!" Harley complained indignantly.

"Footage on the trip group after lunch please, FRI."

"Right away, (y/n)."

——————————

"Hey, fatso!"

Ned and MJ didn't respond, continuing eating their lunch in peace.

And that peace was interrupted when Flash clasped Ned's shoulder and pulled him back hard, making him fell from the backless chair. "When I call you, I expect an answer!" He sniggered.

Unluckily for the two, Mr. Harrington was in line waiting for his meal, completely missing the exchange.

MJ quickly stood up and pushed him away to help Ned. "What the hell, Flash?!" MJ exclaimed angrily.

"Not my fault he's so heavy he can't stand gravity pulling him down." Flash snickered.

"Why you-"

"It's fine, MJ." Ned assured, putting a hand on her arm. "What do you want, Flash?" He asked tiredly.

Flash ignored MJ's heated glare (an amazing feat, really) and smirked at Ned. "Why haven't we heard anything about Parker, huh? If he's really an intern someone would've said something, right? Especially since we're from the same school."

Ned rolled his eyes.

"We only visited the Museum, Flash. Do you think he works there? He's probably in the labs a lot."

"Pfft, there's no way he's in the labs! That fucker can't even do anything right! The only thing he can work as is probably a janitor or something."

He reached out and gripped Ned's shoulder, nails sinking into the muscles tightly, ignoring Ned's wince. "So how about you stop lying and tell us the truth, hm? You're just embarrassing yourselves."

Already fed up, MJ grabbed Flash's wrist and forcefully removed his clutch on Ned's shoulder. "How about you stop bothering us, huh? Why are you so obsessed with Peter anyway? You in love with him or something?" She hissed out.

"I'm just saying that people deserve the truth after hearing stupid lies over and over again!" He snatched his hand back, huffing indignantly. "Fucking Penis Parker…

"You're the one spreading the news, Flash. Peter never really said anything." Ned mumbled, one hand massaging his sore shoulder. He could actually feel nails indent through his shirt. Flash's grip was just too tight.

"Oh shut up." Flash scoffed and finally left them.

——————————

"I'm going to kill him."

"(Y/n)…"

"Don't stop me, Harley."

The angry glow on her eyes returned, this time even brighter. Her (e/c) eyes almost looked like neon blue. Her face was completely blank, only the wide glowing eyes showing just how much anger she was feeling.

Harley held unto her shoulders and crouched down slightly to match her eye level. "Calm down, (y/n). Your eyes are glowing."

"As they should."

"No, they shouldn't!" He whispered-shouted. "Come on. Take a deep breath."

(Y/n) gritted her teeth.

CLINK!

"My bad." Zach said, reaching down to take a screwdriver that fell from the table.

CLINK!

Mr. Harrington frowned. "Did I knock it over?" He mumbled to himself, grabbing the fallen wrench.

CLINK!

"Shit, my pliers!"

CLINK!

CLINK!

CLINK!

CLINK!

"What-"

"An earthquake?!"

The table was shaking violently, throwing tools down to the floor. Above them, lights were flickering on and off.

Alarms started blaring.

"EVERYONE UNDER THE TABLE!"

"WATCH OUT FOR SHARP TOOLS!"

"COME ON GUYS MOVE IT!"

"(Y/N) STOP IT!" Harley tried to shout between the panic screaming.

(Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes were now fully neon blue, glowing brightly in the dark room. She took a shuddered breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Harley…" She whispered. "I can't."

——————————

"How do you get used to your power?"

"Hmm?" Peter looked up from his on-going web fluid. "Practice, I guess…"

"What did you do?"

Peter put the flask on the table. "That depends on which power I try to control. Like my super strength, for example. I practiced juggling eggs and tomatoes without crushing them. It's a lot harder than I thought it would be."

(Y/n) hummed and looked up to the ceiling, contemplating.

"How about you?" Peter asked.

"Me?"

"Yeah. Hecate is always mindful of the children they saved. Their control is amazing."

"…That's Hecate. Not me."

Peter dropped his arms. He removed his gloves and walked towards the girl and plopped down beside her on the sofa.

"We've talked about this, (y/n). Hecate is you and you are Hecate."

"Sure doesn't feel like it." (Y/n) mumbled.

"Is it because of the pronoun?"

"Hm…"

He propped an arm on the backrest. "Didn't you come to the conclusion that you're bigender?"

"Yeah…" She sighed. "But that just makes Hecate feel more like a separate being than me."

"Why are they not you?"

(Y/n) removed her stare from the ceiling to Peter's face. "When I go out as Hecate, I don't… I don't feel like (y/n) Stark." She said softly. "When I don Hecate suit, I just… changed, I guess. Hecate feels like a different person. Hecate doesn't think like (y/n) Stark and they sure as hell doesn't act like (y/n) Stark."

Her voice dropped. "Their control over their curse is also better than (y/n) Stark's."

Peter shuffled closer to her and pulled her into an embrace. He buried his fingers into her hair, gently playing with them slightly. "Spider-Man feels like a different person too. But for me, I know that it's because of the mask." He murmured against the side of her hair. "Why do you think they feel different?"

"I'm not sure…"

"Also, it's not a curse, (y/n). It's a gift."

"A gift? Given by HYDRA?"

"Where it comes from doesn't matter. How you use them does."

"Yet I can't even use it without hurting someone as (y/n)."

Peter pulled back, looking straight into (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes. "How about this; if you ever feel like you're not in control of your power, you tell me. I'll try to help you."

"Can you?"

"We can try."

——————————

(Y/n) kept her eyes firmly shut. She could hear everyone screaming in fear as everything in the room shook. Small tools even started to flew around, narrowly missing some people.

Harley tried to shout words of encouragement to calm her down, but to no avail.

It was only when his hands holding her shoulders were replaced by another pair and a familiar voice murmuring out her name did she finally open her eyes.

"Peter?"

"Hey, Hecate." He smiled.

She shook her head. "Not Hecate. This is (y/n). Hecate wouldn't lose control like this." She whispered.

"Listen," Peter said softly, "Hecate is in you, whether you feel like they are or not. Hecate is you, (y/n). You can be both Hecate and (y/n) at the same time."

(Y/n) shook her head again.

"Close your eyes, (y/n)."

She did.

"Now think of the times you went out as Hecate. Recall those feelings. How did you know to stop when a child, bruised and hurt, was near you? How did you know not to harm them?"

And that was the thing with Hecate. They may have a violent nature when it came to despicable people who decided that taking a kid from their parents was a great money source, but when faced with said kid, they would cease all action. They may thirst for the blood of those people, but they would never harm a hair on a kid.

Because they knew what it was like to be that kid once.

——————————

"And that's how I became Spider-Man." Peter concluded.

"I wonder if that kind of spider still exist."

"Well I know that I killed the one that bit me."

(Y/n) snickered. "So your power comes from an experimented spider, huh?"

"Yep! And you?"

"Same as you."

"Experimented spider bit you?" Peter frowned.

"Nah, they experimented on me instead of a spider."

"Wait what-"

She stretched her stiff shoulder. Sitting for too long did that to your muscles. "Where do you think I was before I live with dad?" She said nonchalantly. "HYDRA took me when I was about 6. Thought I was a great asset, really. Made me do lots of jobs too. Dad found me during a mission."

Peter almost choked on his own saliva. "W-Why did you never tell me?"

(Y/n) blinked. "You never asked." She deadpanned.

After Peter regained his bearing, he braved himself to ask another question. "Where's your mom now?"

"Died."

He almost choked for the second time.

"Dad didn't know I'm his daughter, so he tried to track my mom. Turns out she died a few months after I was kidnapped, so, yeah."

"(Y/n)…"

"I guess that's why kidnapping cases irked me so much." (Y/n) hummed thoughtfully. "Children don't deserve that kind of horror. I remember being so scared those first few weeks."

——————————

As he guided her through breathing exercises, the shaking around her finally started to cease as her heartbeat slowed down.

(Y/n) opened her eyes to find Peter's own warm brown eyes looking straight to hers. "How are you?" He asked softly.

She bit her lower lip and hung her head in shame.

"Hey, come on, eyes up here, Princess Stark." Peter lifted her chin up.

"…I haven't lost control like that since years ago." She murmured. She didn't dare to even steal a glance at Peter's face. She kept her eyes down to the floor, letting the shame fill her.

"(Y/n)-"

"What the fuck is Penis Parker doing here?!"

Peter turned his head, finally seeing his decathlon team for the first time. "What the-"

"And what the fuck was that?! It doesn't feel like earthquake! What kind of freak shit is this?!"

Peter was about to speak when he felt (y/n)'s shoulder shaking under his hand. Eyes widened, he looked down at her only to find her already glaring at Flash, eyes alarmingly glowing again.

So he did what he knew would definitely distract (y/n) from possibly killing his classmate.

Peter grabbed (y/n)'s cheeks and quickly pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

And distracted she was.

"You're,"

Peck,

"Okay,"

Peck,

"Just,"

Peck,

"Ignore,"

Peck,

"Him",

Peck,

"Alright?"

Finally pulling his face away, he could see (y/n) blinking owlishly at him. The glow in her eyes had gone, replaced by the beautiful (e/c) he loved.

He didn't bother to see how Flash or the rest of his teammates reacted to seeing him, the nerd of the group, openly kissing the infamous daughter of Tony Stark.

He did, however, registered Ned's delighted giggle and MJ's sigh.

Unfortunately, (y/n) seemed to still be aware of her surrounding and caught Flash's squawk.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and sighed. She side-eyed Flash with a slight glare.

And before Peter realized it, Flash was flung back to, thankfully, a chair behind him. It was still a hard shove and his back would be aching as hell, but at least it wasn't to (or even through!) the wall, Peter rationalized.

(Y/n) quickly removed Peter's hand on her cheeks and approached the now mildly terrified Flash. She grabbed the front of his collar.

Peter didn't stop her. Her eyes may seem brighter than normal, but the absence of neon blue glow was a good sign that she was in control. That was purely (y/n) Stark needing to vent her anger by threatening a bitch out and not Hecate.  Peter knew better than to get between a woman's wrath and the object of her animosity, after all.

Yeah, a little threat wouldn't hurt, would it?, Peter thought amusedly. He had it coming after all.

"Listen to me, figlio di puttana," she hissed out, face only inches away from Flash's, "if I ever see or even heard about you being a bag of shit like you are ever again, you won't know what's coming for you."

"I-"

"Don't ever say or even think about Peter and anyone close to him anymore, you fucking hear me? You touch a hair on them, and the end of the world will seem mild compare to what I would do."

Silence fell upon the room.

The trip group was still shaken over the 'quake', and add that to seeing their teammate got thrown back by an invisible force, they were just… stunned. They didn't even really register that Peter was in the same room as them. Aside from Flash, Ned, and MJ, at least.

"Well, this is a disaster."

Tony's voice rang in the lab, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He stood in front of the glass sliding doors, dressed in impeccable suit and wearing a pair of sunglasses despite the lack of sun in the lab.

His eyes swept upon the room. His employees seemed fine, just a bit surprised. They were already used to unforeseen incidents, he supposed. His interns slash pseudo-sons also seemed fine, if not a bit miffed. The group was still shocked, which was no shocker (pun intended).

But then he saw his daughter in the middle of threatening someone, eyes wide and shining, teeth gritted.

He sighed.

At least he knew his scientists would be no problem. They had signed confidential agreement to keep everything happening while in work to themselves in their work contract, especially if it included any of the Starks. The group, on the other hand…

"People, remember your NDAs. You all, follow me." He gestured at the group before turning away.

After a few steps, he stopped as if he just remembered something and looked back, "Oh, and Pete? Take her upstairs, will you? Stay with her."

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

"Harls, come with me. I need the whole story."

Harley nodded but said nothing, prompting Tony to turned away again and started leaving.

"Come on, let's go." Harley told the group.

Ned worriedly made an eye contact with Peter, but Peter only shook his head.

Hesitantly, they started leaving, but not without throwing curious looks towards Peter who already pulled (y/n) back from Flash.

"Go now while you can, faccia a culo." (Y/n) jeered. "I can't promise your life if you don't."

Gulping, Flash hurriedly stood up and ran out of the labs.

Before following the group, Harley looked at Peter and (y/n). "Are you two going to be okay?" He asked.

(Y/n) didn't answer, but Peter slung an arm around her shoulder and held her close. "We'll be fine. Sorry for the interruption, Harley." Peter apologized.

"Nothing to be sorry of. Everything will be okay, so don't think too much about it, okay, Princess Stark?" Harley smiled at the girl.

(Y/n) nodded once.

With a final look between Harley and Peter, Harley left the lab to follow the group.

Peter gently held (y/n)'s hand and pulled her towards the private elevator. He took them to the penthouse, straight to her room.

Once inside, he sat her down on her bed.

"How are you feeling right now?"

(Y/n) sighed heavily.

"Mostly angry." She mumbled.

Peter hummed. He sat beside her, an arm behind her to sneak a hand and hold her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes tiredly.

"What happened?" He murmured.

Slowly, (y/n) started telling her story, from when she first went downstairs to meet the group until when Harley and her watched the footage.

"I've been on edge the whole day," she confessed, "and I guess that video just pushed the limit."

"It's not your fault, (y/n)."

(Y/n) scoffed, "Maybe not all, but part of it is. I couldn't control my power, Pete! That's just a recipe for disaster!" She yelled in frustration. "It's been years since that happened! I thought I had this under control!"

Peter squeezed her hand. "Alright then. We'll train. We'll practice until you're absolutely sure you can use your power freely even as (y/n) Stark." He said with a smile.

"But how?"

"We'll figure it out."

Although not entirely satisfied with Peter's answer, she only nodded.

"By the way, why did you lead the trip? I thought you said you had a presentation." Peter asked, changing the topic.

Rolling her eyes, (y/n) answered with a slight scoff, "I lost a bet to Harley."

——————————

Tony stood in front of the meeting room. Peter's decathlon team was all sitting in front of him, his teacher and bully included. Harley had told him about what happened earlier. Needless to say, Tony was not happy.

He had thought of Peter and Harley as his sons; his children aside from (y/n). The fact that Peter had something going on with (y/n) didn't matter, it was a bonus in his eyes. So knowing that Peter had to deal with a bully every day was not something he could really tolerate. Not to mention that said bully also angered his daughter enough to lose control.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He had asked Harley earlier.

"It wasn't my story to tell, Tony." Harley had answered.

His eyes swept across the room once more. He saw their teacher, Harrington, if he remembered correctly, was openly scolding Flash.

Good, he thought, at least the teacher isn't just ignoring this problem.

"Alright!" Tony clapped his hand loudly. "Let's just keep this short, shall we? I'm supposed to be in a meeting right now and Pepper is not happy that I left."

His face turned serious. "Your parents signed NDAs for you to be here. You are not allowed to say anything about what you saw in this building to anyone, including your parents, or you will regret it. Even if we can't get to you directly, your parents are on the line here, and losing them would be a great loss for you, wouldn't it?"

Some of them gulped nervously. Flash just looked terrified.

"Just remember that I have better lawyers than you ever will. Capisce?"

Once he saw them hurriedly nodded, he grinned. "Okay then! I'll let you ask me questions now for compensation after that incident. Gotta take care of my daughter's problem, right?"

The group looked at each other, still miffed and hesitant to ask anything. They just got threatened to lose practically everything they had, after all.

However, Ned, who already had no intention to tell anyone about what happened thanks to Peter anyway, raised a hand.

"Yes, you, uhh… Fred!"

"It's Ned." Harley rolled his eyes. Tony pointedly ignored him.

Even wrong, Ned still felt joy in knowing that Tony knew him. "Hi, I was wondering about Harley's badge? Don't interns have half-white badges?"

Tony gestured at Harley to answer. "Well?"

Harley scoffed at Tony before answering, "Yeah, mine and Peter's are special badges since we're this dude's personal interns."

"Personal intern?" Abe chimed in, face curious.

"He's hopeless, trust me. This whole building would've burned if it weren't for us." Harley snickered, blatantly ignoring Tony who was glaring daggers at him.

"I'll let you know that I'm perfectly fine being alone in my lab." Tony huffed. "I've been doing it for years and I'm fine."

"Uh-huh, sure, old man."

Betty, pushed by Ned's nonchalance, raised a hand as well, "Mr. Stark? What is the requirement to be an intern here? Harley and Peter are our age, so does this mean we also qualify?"

Cindy also raised a hand, "Earlier we had tests in the labs. They said we can get scouted, is that true?"

"Ah yes, you were supposed to be given the internship program information at the end of the tour!" Tony said. "Basically, we have a new internship program for high school students. The interns will be handpicked by your 'test' results."

When Tony offered no other explanation, Harley added, "We just put the information on our web. Just go to Stark Industries' official website and click on the Internship Program. Sorry guys, you were supposed to get full session on this, but (y/n) was the one who had to give the presentation and she's not… available."

"Or Peter. He's one of the head of that programs after all. Wait," Tony stopped, looking at Harley incredulously, "you're the other head of the program. Why don't you give the presentation?"

Harley only shrugged with a grin.

"How is Parker already an intern?" Flash asked in disbelief. "And Head of Internship Program?!" It seems that his terrified daze from earlier had dissipated, which was really quick. He was quite a thickhead, after all.

Tony squinted at him, scrutinizing. This kid just never stop, huh?

"I scouted him myself." He announced.

Flash was taken aback by Tony's nonchalant answer, but he pressed on, "But why?"

"Because he impressed me. Genius kid, really. Better than nearly everyone I've ever known. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend." He quickly said, already losing any will to interact with children any longer.

Before he left, he did add, "Also, Mr. Thompson, is it? I'll have a meeting with your parents and the principal soon, so get ready."

Flash's eyes widened.

Once he left, the room erupted in chaos.

"What just happened?!"

"Peter is really an intern!"

"Not just an intern, but already head of a program!"

"HE KISSED (Y/N) STARK OMG!"

"Who cares?! We almost died again!"

"But we might get to intern here too!"

"No, no, back up! We almost died! And by what?! What was that?!!"

"Wasn't it (y/n)?!"

"How did she do that?!"

"I don't know! But you saw what happened to Flash!"

"I guess (y/n) is Hecate then." Ned whispered to MJ. MJ nodded.

"She looked like she hated her power earlier." MJ muttered. "No wonder she snapped at you when you asked about Hecate."

"OKAY EVERYONE CALM DOWN!" Harley shouted, trying to gain control over the group.

One by one, they started to quiet down.

"I suppose this is the end of your trip. Remember the NDAs; not a word!" He said, which the group answered with a chorus of yes. "Great! Now follow me to the lobby!"

——————————

"You okay, il mio tarassaco?"

"I am now. Sorry about earlier, dad."

"Nothing to worry about. I really have to go to meeting now, but we'll talk later, okay? Take it easy after this, maybe just sleep or mess around in your private lab, if you want to. Don't overexert your power."

(Y/n) smiled gratefully. The public may saw her father only as an egocentric hero, but she knew better. He always tried to be the best dad and she was grateful for it. Tony Stark wasn't a perfect dad, but he tried. He knew better than to be like his own father. Even if his daughter was an accident he only discovered a few years back, Tony knew there was little he wouldn't do for her.

"Okay. Love you, see you later."

"Love you too."

As she ended the call, Harley rushed towards her and pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry for putting you through that hell, Princess Stark! It was that stupid bet!"

"HARLEY I CAN'T BREATHE!"

Harley let her go with a sheepish grin. "Are you okay now?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "Everyone asked me that. I'm fine. How's the situation?"

"Tony threatened them with the NDAs." He shrugged. "I don't think they really connect you to Hecate, but Ned definitely did."

She nodded in understanding. "Leeds is fine, I think… Peter trusts him."

"He won't tell anyone. But if he knows, MJ definitely does too." Peter piped in.

"You trust both of them, don't you?"

"Yeah, they're great."

(Y/n) smiled at him, "Maybe I should try befriend them then. Share my own secret like you did too."

Peter smiled back.

——————————

Bonus:

"Dude! You're the story of the year!"

"What?"

"Everyone's talking about you and (y/n) now!"

MJ sipped on her drink. "How is she anyway?"

"She's fine. Excited to meet you guys, actually." Peter answered.

"But we met her already?" Ned frowned.

"As a friend, Ned."

"Ooh…"

For a moment, no one said anything as they chewed on their food. "Hey, so (y/n) is really Hecate, right?"

"Ned! Shh!"

The End

——————————

Dictionary

Merda: shit

Cazzo: fuck

Vaffanculo: go fuck yourself

Figlio di puttana: son of a bitch

Faccia a culo: assface

Il mio tarassaco: my dandelion*

I looked these terms online, so they may not be 100% accurate. I’m sorry if I make any mistake!

*My Dandelion: a few months ago, I got into doll customizing and decided to make my own (y/n) Stark into a doll form. When I plugged in her hair, it had poofed up like a dandelion and stayed like that for weeks while I worked on her face-up. I got used to calling her Dandelion after that. Because of this, I’ve been nicknaming (y/n) as Dandelion.

Afterthoughts

Wow it’s over already... This story was an experience. It started as a fun little thing to celebrate my birthday with and to finally tell Meggie my handle to a 16k-word mess. Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and commented on Part One! I hope you like this part too :)

——————————

Just Out of Touch Taglist

@spn-assemble-seven @racewife2004 @lukesbabylon @serendipitous-amor @sovereign-parker @ifangirlninja @lyzalovealk @lookuptotheskiesandsee @tommysparker @starlight-starks

Permanent (Marvel) Taglist

@marvelexi @lou-la-lou @spiderbibby​ @hello--zuko-here @everydaymj

Mutuals

@allegra-soleil @spideygirl2003 @delicatepeterparker @parkerpeter24 @terrifictomholland @quackeroos @angel-spidey @greenorangevioletgrass @the-crazy-fanfictionist​

[hellflame-for-a-reason]

Ingenium Fracta

Chapter two: New faces, New fears.

Tw: assumed death, guilt, memory loss.

Aizawa stood outside, helping gather his students as they were helping with the attack. He had managed to herd them all to an area away from the civilians, luckily none of the civilians had been killed and only a few were hurt. The students were definitely suffering a few injuries and you could even see the blood from the cut Hagakure had gotten on her leg. He looked out over all of them, noticing that they definitely didn’t have them all, and the headcount confirmed that. The dust from the collapsing building was still thick in the air and Aizawa couldn’t help but fear the worst, “has anyone seen-”

“Mr Aizawa!” From across the grass, Todoroki came running over with Uraraka beside him. They were both dragging Midoriya along with them, the problem child seemed distraught; screaming and sobbing and trying to claw himself back into the building. Uraraka was also crying softly and even Todoroki had slightly wet eyes. Aizawa closed the distance, going to speak when Uraraka suddenly clung to him, bursting into sobs and leaving poor Todoroki to hold Midoriya on his own. Aizawa paused for a moment, contemplating pushing her away before residing himself to the fact that the poor girl was clearly upset, and he was the only mentor figure around. He gently laid a hand on the top of her head, glancing up at Todoroki as he froze Midoriya's feet to the ground.

“What..?”

“Iida’s still inside, the ceiling collapsed on top of him when he was grappling with a villain, we… couldn’t get to him.” He hung his head in shame, clearly also upset by this, but he’d never been one to show emotions. Aizawa was also quite a stoic man, but the idea that he’d just lose a student was overwhelming for him, it was the same feeling as when Bakugo got kidnapped but at least Bakugo had turned out to still be alive… it took all his self control not to pull a Midoriya and run straight back into the building. Instead he sighed, turning Uraraka away from the building and facing the children that looked to him for guidance, it suddenly felt so wrong.

“You will return to your dorm, and you will not speak about this. I will call a meeting once everything is dealt with, am I understood?” The children nodded, turning and getting back on the bus that had brought them there. They were all so quiet, so… small- had they always been that small? Aizawa thought they all looked so much more innocent and fragile then they had a mere hour ago, he wouldn’t dream of putting them in any sort of danger at that moment, he just hoped they were alright.

He slowly walked over to where Rock Lock was talking to The Wild Wild Pussycats, sighing heavily as he gently tapped Mandalay on the shoulder. She turned around with a gentle smile, “hey Eraser, how are you doing, are the students alright? They did a great job, I hope you treat them after this!”

Pixie-Bob nodded, “yeah, the shoppers that were downstairs kept mentioning Ingenium’s baby bro! Apparently he was a real leader down there, you must be one hell of a teacher!”

Oh god… Aizawa hadn’t considered that he’d have to break the news to Tensei, they’d only ever spoken once or twice outside of work, and now Aizawa would have to tell him that… that… he wasn’t sure he could handle this. He knew how much Tensei adored his younger brother, it had been 80% of their conversation subject both times they spoe outside of work, and this was a few years before Tenya Iida became a member of class 1-A so Tensei must have been telling everyone he spoke to about Tenya.

The pussycat’s must have noticed how Aizawa’s expression changed when Iida was mentioned and they were now looking at him in concern, but it was Rock Lock who spoke, “are you alright Eraserhead?”

He shook his head, not making eye contact, “Tenya Iida is still inside the building, he was grappling with a villain when part of the ceiling fell over him. If you’re still searching the building-…”

The three pussycats that were there looked so shocked, and even Rock Lock looked sympathetic as Aizawa heard him mutter, “poor Tensei…” why did it seem like the first instinct most of them had was to feel for Tensei first, instead of for Tenya? Aizawa had never been close to either of the Iida brothers, but he respected Tensei and Tenya was his student, and one of his best students at that- he would go in there himself if he had to. “We’ll do our best to find him, please go back with your students and try to help them. If we find him, we’ll inform you, alright?”

Aizawa didn’t like the idea of abandoning the boy, but his other students did need attending to, so he hesitantly nodded. “Alright, thank you.” He made his way to the bus, replaying the conversation he’d had with Nezu about the children needing to do more teen things over and over again in his head. Aizawa didn’t think he’d ever forgive the rodent for making him take his kids here.

Stepping onto the bus, Todoroki lifted his head to look at him, the other two asleep on his shoulders. Aizawa knew that the entire class’s eyes were on him, and he sighed, shaking his head, “they’re looking, I've been told to return with you.” The look he saw in his student’s eyes when he said that broke his cold stone heart, these poor kids, even the ones that liked to mock him, every single one of them cared deeply about their class president.

_

“That was so fun! Did you have fun Dabi?”

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to focus on moving the rocks.”

Voices, he could hear voices from above him, was he dead? Were those angels? All he knew was he felt incredibly warm and he couldn’t breathe, he was laying on something soft but everything around him was hard. He couldn’t open his and in all honesty he was scared to, he had no idea what he might see.

“Here… we… go!” Something above him moved, letting air in, ��eugh! What’s with all this smoke?”

“Smells like something’s burning! Something other than you!” A giggle, that was definitely a giggle, he knew that those were. Whoever this was, it was a girl… maybe Uraraka? Maybe she’d come back for him! If the other person was burning does that mean it’s Todoroki? He hoped so, he really hoped so.

A groan, then a different noise, “oh! Looks like Shiggy made a friend.”

“Aw! He’s so cute! He must be one of Izuku’s friends!”

“Well let's get him out of there before Shiggy wakes up and gets grabby.” Hands suddenly grabbed at him, tucking under his arms, “hup!” He was lifted out like a ragdoll, held in the arms of someone who smelt like five day old burnt noodles and bacon. “Hey compress! You wanna kidnap another student?”

“Oh? But the UA students have already left?”

“They’ve gone?? You mean they just straight up abandoned a kid? Damn it’s like they wanted us to make this kid into a villain.”

He’d been abandoned? How could Todoroki say that..? He was right there wasn’t he? “To… Todoroki..?”

“What??”

“Oh he’s awake! And he thinks you’re his friend, cute!” A hand came down and pat him gently on the head, he was confused, was this not Todoroki?

“Uh… better get him compressed before he wakes up further, Compress, you’re up!”

When he came to, he was sitting, tied to a chair in what appeared to be a bar. Looking around nervously, he saw a figure seemingly made from black and purple smoke, wearing a metal collar on their neck. “Excuse me?” He quietly croaked out, Relieved when the figure paused cleaning the glasses to look at him, “I shouldn’t be here, I’m underage…”

The figure just sighed, glancing up the stairs, “the child’s awake!”

“Oh oh oh!” A small girl raced down the stairs, hopping up to him and beaming, “do you want to talk about Izuku with me?”

“Izuku..?” He repeated her, slightly confused; did he know an Izuku, he couldn’t think of anyone he knew as Izuku- “oh! You mean Midoriya?” The girl nodded and he felt himself light up, “oh Midoriya’s my best friend, I love midoriya.”

“Yeah! He’s so cute right?”

“I…” was he? He knew he liked Midoriya a lot but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he looked like, “I don't know, I can’t remember his face…”

The girl looked so surprised and upset by that, her gaze seemed even pitying and he couldn’t really blame him, he really wanted to see what his Midoriya looked like- Todoroki and Uraraka too! He couldn’t remember any of their faces, he couldn’t remember anything aside from them though, as much as he tried.

“Do you remember your name?” The girl asked, clearly curious if the way she tilted her head meant anything. Did he remember? He wasn’t sure if he could, it was just on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite figure it out. He frowned deeply, trying to force it to come to him.

In a spark of clarity, he answered her, “I’m Ingenium!” Yes, that was definitely his name, he was so proud of himself for remembering. His name meant a lot to him, but he couldn’t quite remember why. Either way, Ingenium was very proud of himself for having such a good memory.

“Your name is Tenya Iida,” a man walked in, holding his phone. This man was covered in burns, with blue eyes that reminded him of Todoroki- had Todoroki had blue eyes? He sat down in a chair, still not glancing at him, “17 years old, presumed dead. Your quirk is engine.”

Tenya Iida… was that his name? He was so sure it was Ingenium but Tenya sounded so much more like his name… did he have two names? That didn’t make sense. Wait, did that man say he was presumed dead?? Tenya looked up at the man, “pardon me sir, but did you say I was presumed dead? Because I appear to be very much alive.”

“We know, they don’t care, they just abandoned you there. They never wanted you, you’re a child and they left you to die.” The man’s words cut like a knife, Tenya didn’t want to be abandoned, why would someone leave him like that? “The heroes needed a tragedy, so they let you suffer and left you to die, your lack of memories? That's the hero’s fault, a tragedy is good for the press.”

Heros… as far as Tenya was aware, heroes were supposed to save people, that was the meaning of the word. “Those heroes aren’t heroes then, they can’t just do that.”

The man nodded, “you’re exactly right, heroes these days only care about how they look on the screen, they need to be put down.”

“Oh I don’t know about murder…” Tenya was quickly getting nervous, he didn’t know these people, but they definitely seemed to know him.

“Haven’t you already tried that?” Another man entered the room, covered in hands and bandages, a crutch under his arm. “You tried to murder a man for hurting your brother, do you not remember that either?”

Oh, it seemed Tenya was a lot more predisposed to murder then he’d thought. He didn’t remember anything aside from his own name and his friends, he hadn’t even been aware he had a brother, but now he thought about it… he could remember a burning pain that clenched him tightly, the pain that came with someone you cared about getting hurt. He could remember that, so it wasn’t too hard to imagine how that would translate into bloodthirsty rage. “I see, my apologies, I merely assumed I was a good person.”

The burnt man laughed at that, “no one’s a good person here kid, this is the shiny villain club.”

“We are not the shitty villain club!”

The girl piped up at that, smiling at Tenya, “sooo, whaddya say, Ten-chan? You wanna live with us? You can room with me if you want to?”

“You’re not sleeping in the same room as a boy,” the smokey figure spoke again, his tone stern, “let alone a boy your age.”

“Oh come on Kurogiri, the boy clearly isn’t gonna do anything, look at him.” The burnt man spoke, it seems the smoky figure was named Kuorgiri, “he’s clearly gay.”

“How could you tell?” Was that his quirk or something? Tenya was genuinely impressed by that, he didn’t think anyone could tell.

“Oh you were right, I did not expect that…'' the man with the hands spoke, his voice sounded so hoarse and it was beginning to grate on Tenya.

“I’m sorry sir,” he spoke up, cutting the burnt man off, “but do you need to go and get a drink of water, you sound like your throat is dry. Hydration is very important and is good for both your insides and your outsides, it’s very good for your skin and could prevent chapped lips.”

The burnt man laughed at that and the other man seemed annoyed. The girl took this opportunity to lean over and hold out a hand, “so, you want to join us?”

“I don’t see why not,” Tenya smiled at the girl, shaking her hand the best he could whilst tied up, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Yay! You’re gonna love it here, I’m Toga by the way, Toga Himiko!”

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe | 3.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was told to get rid of everyone who witnessed the conversation between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month ago, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3.0 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: it’s literally been a long a** while, but it’s here💙 ps will edit later probably

“Okay, ma’am, can you explain to me how you found out she was missing one more time? I just want to verify that the report is consistent with what you told us previously.”

“Sure,” Suzy squirmed in her seat, feeling squeamish due to the busy police station. “I went to her apartment to check on her because her upcoming article was missing and she never forgets to log in her articles. She wasn’t answering my calls or texts, I got worried. When I knocked on her door, I didn’t get an answer, but that’s when I saw that the door was unlocked. I walked inside and everything looked normal but she wasn’t there, and her necklace was on the floor,”

Her mouth goes dry the more she recalls the emptiness of your home, the sheer horror she felt when she saw your most prized possession on the ground.

“She never goes anywhere without that necklace.”

“Alright ma’am, have you seen or heard from her on any social media in the last 24 hours?”

“No, I haven’t…”

She smiled. “Okay. Our officers will do everything they can to find her, alright? So don’t worry too much, she might’ve left her phone off or something, things like that happen all the time.” The woman laughed a bit, nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t talking about a human being who could be scared for her life. 

“Alright, thank you…”

She left the station, heart heavy. And she couldn’t figure out why, but something about the woman’s words made her feel worse.

You woke up really early, around 4 or 5 in the morning, and you were trying so hard to quietly try to open the window but it was bolted shut. You tried the door, but even that was locked from the outside. After an hour or so, you gave up and went to sleep.

But you’re up now, and you’re trying to escape, again. 

You screamed at the top of your lungs but you know you weren’t heard by a soul. He had cuffed you again while you were asleep and it was extra tight, you felt like your wrists were being crushed. You were furious. You were mad at that monster, the restraints, and the stupid bed he left you on. You started to think, how will I be able to escape? What did I do wrong? Is this really the life I have to live now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a wobbling doorknob and you freeze, watching it open slowly. It’s him of course.

“Why are you screaming?” He looks annoyed and you curl into the corner, brows furrowed. 

“Why do you think?” You spat, yanking against the cuff instinctively as you have the strongest urge to scratch him.

“Listen,” He approaches the bed and you lean into the corner as he takes a seat on the edge, “I’m being very generous. I’ve given you food, left you in very humane living conditions...Do you want to go down to the basement like an animal? Is that what you want?”

“I want you to let me go.” 

“Well, that’s not gonna happen,” He stands to his feet and stares down at you, making you feel ten times smaller than you already did. 

“We need to talk about some things. I have someone coming over, someone who wanted you dead and thinks you’re dead. So, if you want to stay alive, you need to listen. I’m going to put you in my room and you’re gonna stay there until he leaves.”

“Who- Who wants me dead?...” You stutter.

“My boss, he gave me the job. If he finds out I took a hostage in instead of selling you to him or killing you, he won’t be happy.” He takes in a breath and looks you over, your wrists are all bruised up. “Are you going to cooperate and walk to the room or do I have to drag you?”

“Take these ropes off my hands and you’ll find out.”

He shrugs. “Ok.” 

You’re taken aback when he kneels on the bed and waits for you to turn your back towards him. Cautiously, you turn your back to him and he starts to loosen your binds. When you feel that your hands are free, you turn to sit on your butt and rub your wrists. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it...” It’s only now that you realize that he’s staring at you, and you make the mistake of meeting his gaze. His eyes are surprisingly soft and you hadn’t noticed it before, they’re captivating and you force yourself to look away.

“Come on, he’ll be here soon.” With that, he walks out of the room, assuming that you’ll follow him, you don’t.

He looks at you, waiting for you to realize that you’re being unnecessarily difficult. When you see the slight move towards you, you decide to get up and follow him. He takes you down the hall and after a few turns, he walks into a large bedroom, one that’s well kept and fresh-smelling. Once you’re both inside, he closes the door.

“If you get hungry, there’s a mini-fridge in the closet,”  He points to the closet, “If he finds out you’re here, we’ll both be in trouble.” With that, he closes the door—funny how he doesn’t lock its door, assuming you won’t try to leave.

This isn’t the best idea, having the person who thinks you’re dead in the house with you. But there was no way he could say no to Minho, that’s his boss and it would look odd if he canceled. While waiting for his guest, he orders some food. He placed the order at his regular take out place and went to the kitchen to wait.

What am I doing? This is the most reckless decision he’s ever made. In an attempt to reason with himself, he blamed his change of heart on the fact that he met you—he should have never run into you. The rules are simple, don’t make contact with the target, don’t get attached, don’t watch them for too long or you will get attached. He did all of that, and now he’s finding out why those rules were made in the first place. 

He hears a knock on the door and pushes those thoughts away.

When he lets his boss inside, any thoughts he had of you vanished and he became the person his boss knows him as. Emotionless, calm. 

“I wanted to talk to you about your last job,” Minho takes a seat in his living room, in his usual seat in near the window—he always said the view was priceless and to let him know if he were ever willing to sell, “I heard from an informant at the police station that she was reported as missing, do you know anything about that,” He takes a sip of the tea Tae always gives him.

“No, I don’t,” He deadpans, taking a seat and turning the music down with a low command to the speaker, “the girl is gone.”

“They found a necklace at the scene, the woman who went to check on her, I think it was her boss or something, said she doesn’t go anywhere without it,” Minho relaxes, exhaling in thought, “it’s getting a little messy.”

“That comes with the job sometimes,” the doorbell rings and Tae is thankful for the speedy delivery, the growing tense air was beginning to suffocate him. After putting the portion he bought for you in the fridge, he brings the food to the living room.

“But she’s not a high-profile target, she’s a writer,” Yet, people are worried about your disappearance.

After a few minutes of sitting on his massive bed, you choose to disregard his instructions and crack the door to try to listen to what they were saying. Gosh, the food smelled good.

“What did you do with her?”

“You know I don’t like to tell, but she’s taken care of,” Taehyung opened up his food, “this will blow over eventually.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Not much I can do about that,” 

Minho laughs, wondering why some useless girl would be the issue they have to face with a case as sensitive as this one. “You should have sold her to me, I’d make good use of her. And teach her a lesson on minding her own business, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have had to go back to the job. She was your first female and your youngest target yet, I went through your headcount file.”

“Yeah, she was around my age,” 

“She was cute too, would’ve done well at House Lucia’s,” That dreaded place, “but I know you don’t like that place but it’s better than the other options.” Minho pulls a letter out of his suit and sits it on the coffee table.

“That’s your next job, Park’s gonna join you.”

Taehyung cringed, anyone but Park.

“Why Park?” He opens up the envelope and examines the case.

“He’s skilled with squeezing information out of people. Besides, it’s not an eliminate the target case. Go to the Gala, Park will handle the mistresses and you find the guy. Do you accept it? It’s a 75k payout.”

“Yeah, when is it?”

“Tonight,” Minho gets up, “he’ll be here tonight. Attire is formal and he’ll have your invitations. I enjoyed lunch, as always,” Tae walks him to the door and his boss goes to the backseat of the car that came for him.

“Same here,” He bids him goodbye and closes the door he breathing a sigh of relief.

“You can come out, I know you’re listening.”

Shoot.

You creep out of the hallway and stand at the banister, looking down at him. 

“I bought you some food, you can eat it in my room,” He walks to the kitchen to get it out of the fridge and when he walks upstairs, you’re already back in his room. 

You eye him as he enters the room, glancing at you when he sits the food on the end of the bed. He kneels down and suddenly he’s cuffing your ankles together, you frown, not responding fast enough to move

“Why are you-”

“I’m gonna let you stay in here while I work on some things, I don’t want you to run.” He stands to his feet and you sit on his bed, you wondered, how could he have known that you planned to run from him.

 “I’m bringing you back to the basement tonight, so enjoy this while it lasts.” 

It’s a Styrofoam plate, harmless enough. You hesitantly lift the lid to see white rice and other little sides, it looks good but you don’t want to eat it, not while he’s in here.

“How could I enjoy this? You have me chained up, how could anyone enjoy this...” You mumble. 

“Eat.” 

That’s all he says before sitting at his desk and turning on his desk top, ignoring you.

Eventually, you decided that you weren’t going to miss out on getting food. If you’re going back to the basement, there’s no telling if he’ll forget you again. 

So you eat, but you do it spitefully.

He scrolls through the hundreds of file his target database with the letter G until he finds the mans name. Gorka, Ulysses. The man is a big-time statesmen, he has his hands in a lot of underground stuff and it seems like the ex-wife did too, she’s the one who paid for job. He scoffs, the man probably has no idea she’s hiring people to end his entire empire—this is one of the interesting parts of his job, the research.

“Um,” You clear your throat and he looks back at you from writing something in his notebook, “I have to use the restroom...”

“Go ahead,” Pointing to his bathroom, he turns back and continues his writing.

You take small steps towards the his bathroom and you close the door behind you, locking it.

Even though he’s fine with the job, he’s never liked working with partners, disturbs his process a little bit. But he’s fine with being flexible, looks good on his resume.

When you finish washing your hands, you slowly open the bathroom door to see him looking through a drawer under his bed. It’s hard to see what he picked up, but you look a little harder and realize that it’s some of your clothes. You shudder, thinking of how he acquired your belongings when he took you from your house.

He looks back at you when you walk further into the room, your awkward search for somewhere to sit catching his attention.

“You’re in a better situation than you would have been,” He turns to you, hair dangling over his piercing eyes, “you’re lucky...”

You frown, unsure of where he’s going with that. How could you be lucky? Right before your big article, you get kidnapped and forced to live with your kidnapper. “Are you serious?...” You couldn’t believe what he just said. “How am I lucky?” 

No response. 

“Hey, did you hear me?” You raise your voice, standing to your feet. “This isn’t luck!”

Calmly, he eyes you.

“I want to go to the basement, put me in there.” Your request catches him off guard but he shrugs, turning back around as if you didn’t even say anything. “Fine, I’ll go myself...”

You try to walk to the door anyway, your shuffling not letting you leave as quick as you wanted to. Before you can even make it halfway, he’s closing the door with a slam and locking it. 

“Get on the bed.” His eyes lock on yours like a predator to prey—you have goosebumps.

“But I just want to go back to the basement, I won’t run.” You’re frozen where you stand, trying to determine his temperament. “Just leave me down there-”

“What did I just say?” His tone firms as he slowly approaches you.

“But- But you’re gonna put me down there anyway- Ah!” You gasp when you’re shoved back first onto the bed, holding you down by your arms as he kneels one knee between your legs. Eyes wide and heart-pounding, you whine, words not leaving your mouth.

“Do you know how lucky you are that you’re here? Had you been assigned to someone else, do you have any idea where you’d be right now,” He leans down, limiting the proximity between your faces but you turn your face to the side, trying to push your face into the comforter below you, “you’re a target, you’re not being treated like a target and you need to realize that. Stop acting out.” 

He let’s go of one of your arms in favor of turning your face to him. “Look at me.” 

“No, no-” Tears stream down your face and your nose glows red, your sinuses responding to your weeping. You use your now free arm to try to push his chest, he shakes his head at your poor attempt. 

He let’s go of your arm so he can snatch both your wrists and holds them to your abdomen with one hand. 

“You’re gonna stay in this room until I take you downstairs. If you act like this when I try to grant you some freedom, I’ll give you something to cry about.” Your breathing is shaky and you sniffle, eyes watery and wide. He wipes a tear from your eye with his knuckle and lets you go, walking back to his chair as if he didn’t just threaten your life.

Still in shock, you curl up on the bed and do the only thing you can do—you cry. He’s not phased by your fit at all, he continues to finish his work as your whimpers accompany his soft piano music on his Bluetooth speaker. 

This is really happening. 

Normally, you’d scold yourself for feeling sorry for yourself. You’d tell yourself that there are people who are suffering far more than you are—that you shouldn’t complain, you’re lucky. But you’ve never felt more unlucky, you’ve never felt more alone.

After a good two hours, he notices that your cries aren’t heard anymore and he looks at the bed, you had cried yourself to sleep. Poor thing, he thinks to himself. It’s about time for him to get ready to go, so you finally get your wish to return to the basement. He picks you up and walks you down the stairs, your out cold the whole walk. 

He hopes you’ll find it more comfortable, he made you a fluffy safe haven on the corner of the large space. While you slept, he set up the plushy floor cushion that he ordered last night so you wouldn’t have to sleep on a padding-less mat. It was pretty expensive but he didn’t mind the price, it actually complimented the basement nicely. Laying you on the cushion, he un-cuffs your ankles. Instead of the small ones, he uses a long-chained cuff attached to the steel on the wall behind the cushion and hooks it to your wrist.

He covers you up with a fluffy blanket, caressing the side of your face when you snuggle against the cover, sighing in comfort.

Admittedly, he wishes you’d look that comfortable with him one day, sigh in his arms. In time, he hopes you’ll be able to realize that everything he’s doing is to spare your life.

He slips his gloves off, tossing them in the bin outside the lavish room in the wide-open halls of the mansion. After adjusting his suit jacket, he looks down at his watch, it’s getting late. 

The party is still going on downstairs and now that the dirty work is done, he needs to find Park Jimin. A short walk past the many bedrooms and just when he thinks he should go look downstairs, he hears a giggling female. That means Jimin isn’t far. He approaches what looks like a powder room.

When he slowly opens the door he immediately turns his head, rolling his eyes, such class.

He takes out his phone and calls him, hoping that’ll get him to hurry up. With that, he takes a walk to the stairs and not long after, Jimin is fumbling out of the room, hair disheveled.

Our little secret, remember? Taehyung nearly throws up when he hears him say that to the woman who’s at least ten years older than him. He looks back at his temporary partner, watching as he zips his fly with the utmost class if that were possible.

“Hey, I got a little sidetrack, but I have what I need,” He walks beside him, a red glow on his cheeks, “you?”

“Of course.” Tae shrugs, “We should head out.”

“Already?” Jimin scoffs. “You’re no fun, Kim.” 

Shaking his head, the two of them leave the party swiftly, Jimin’s Lambo growling in the night as Taehyung sits restless, he left you too long. He wonders if Jimin can pick up on his eagerness to get home, he’s sure it’s not that detectable. These jobs were never his thing, alcohol, too many people, too many distractions. 

When Jimin drops him off but asks to come in so he can use the restroom.

“Down the hall, to your right.” Taehyung points, taking off his suit jacket and tossing it on the couch. For the life of him, he hopes you don’t start screaming, the last thing he needs is for Jimin to find out that you’re here.

It's painstakingly long few minutes before he breathes in relief, Jimin is walking down the hall, wiping his hands.

“It was a pleasure Taehyung, as always,” He leaves out of the front door with a wave.

Locking the door with the app on his phone, he waits for a few minutes. Just long enough to know Jimin had pulled out of the hallway and is halfway down the road.

Quickly, he goes to the kitchen to get you a snack and some water. He puts it on a plate and goes to the basement door, he presses his ear against the door to see if he could hear you moving around. Sniffling, he hears your sniffling and his heart drops a little bit.

He opens the door, the sound of his footsteps prompts you to wipe your face, he doesn’t get to see me cry again, that’s what you told yourself. You stare at him as he walks down the stairs, he’s wearing a dress shirt and dress pants. The dark blue silk shirt is rolled up to his elbows and a little unbuttoned, you assume he went somewhere fancy.

“Are you hungry?”

You shake your head no, not looking him the eyes.

“Well, I’ll leave it, just in case you change your mind,” He sits it on the cushion right beside you. For a moment, he stares at you for a bit longer than what most would deem comfortable.

“I bought this for you,” He’s referring to the cushion he so kindly chained you to, “hopefully you’ll sleep better.” Still refusing to give him eye contact, you bite at your lip anxiously, why won’t he just leave you alone?

He lightly touches your hand and you flinch away, a panicked glint in your eyes as you press yourself to the back of the cushion to be as far from his as possible. He backs away from you, a little confused. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” He furrows his brows, eyes landing on your wrists, still bruised from your previous attempts to get away, “You need something on those bruises, I have a salve that’ll help,” He stands from his kneeling position.

“I’ll be back,” With that, he retreats upstairs.

As soon as the door closes, you wait a few seconds but eventually, you reach for the water and take a small sip. For all you know, he could have put something in the water, but you choose not to care.

It’s not long before he’s open the door, skipping down the stairs in sweats and a t-shirt, the salve in his hands, and what looks like cloth bandage.

“You drank some water, that’s good,” He’s scarily observant. Naturally, as if he had done it a thousand times, he reaches for your arm but you don’t shy away. What he had said to you early today comes to your mind so you decide not to give him any reason to fulfill the threats. 

Sitting on the cushion beside you, he brings one of your wrists to his lap. You watch him gather some of the salves on his fingers before gently applying it to your skin. He does the same thing to the one hand he has chained and then wraps them in the soft cloth, careful not to make it to tight. When he closes up the jar, you bring your hands to yourself and you look at him, his face illuminated by the dim lights.

“I’ve never done this before,” He speaks suddenly, “I don’t know if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t...” You mutter, staring down at the metal circle on your wrist. 

“I don’t expect you to trust me, but everything I’ve done, it’s not what you think.” He turns to you, causing you to look away once again. “You’re a good person, it’s nothing you did.”

“Then let me leave,” You swallow, “I- I promise, I won’t tell anyone, just let me go home, my family will be devastated when if they find out. I heard that guy you were talking to, someone reported me as a missing person, that means someone is looking for me... ”

He sighs. “I can’t.”

“Why not? You don’t seem like a bad person. If something in you is telling you to let me go, why don’t you listen to it?” You quietly plead, hoping your desperate tone affected him in some way.

“If they find out that I let you go, if my boss finds out that you’re still alive-...I can’t let that happen, you know too much, he’ll kill you.”

“The article is destroyed, so the guy who wanted it gone has nothing to worry about, I don’t understand why I even matter...”

“You just do. You can’t bargain with me about this. If there was a way for me to let you free without anything bad happening to me or you, I’d do it, but there’s not...” He pushes his hair back, brows furrowed in what seems to be distress.

He sighs, “I’ve never been assigned someone so young, you’re so close to my age. And I probably could’ve completed the job, but when I met you, and I looked in your eyes...” His words trail off and he stands up. “I couldn’t do it.”

“I feel like I’m being punished...” You look away, hands finicky, “I don’t feel like I’m being saved or protected, do you have any idea how afraid I am of you? You’re a stranger who’s saying all the things that I don’t know anything about, and you’re keeping me locked up in a basement. What you’re doing to me, it’s wrong...”

He suddenly gets on his knees and kneels in front of you, taking your hands into his despite your efforts to pull away.

“I hope you’ll understand that this is the only way like I said...You might eventually learn to like me, but you don’t have to,” He looks up at you, his doe eyes looking incredibly sincere, very different from how you’ve been seeing him, “and I won’t make you.”

You bite your bottom lip, “I don’t want to be here...” 

Suddenly, he reaches a hand up and cups the back of your head. “it’ll be okay,” The size of his hand is now brought to your realization when his finger grazes your ear. He presses his forehead to yours and your eyes squeeze shut a the contact. When you feel your nose almost touch his, you instinctively jerk back and your hand responds on its own accord.

The sound of skin bluntly meeting skin is heard and you’re cowering back, immediately regretting your innate response. He lifts his hand to his now reddened cheek, he didn’t expect it to hurt so bad—you’re stronger than you look.

“Don’t- I just- Were you trying to kiss me?...” You stammer, a frown on your face. When you don’t fully elaborate, you settle on your own conclusion that he knows what you’re trying to say. He looks up at you finally, now standing tall above you. 

He grabs your wrist, tugging you forward. It hurts a little but you stay silent, “This is why I like you, Y/n, that fiery spirit,” He suddenly drops your hand, seeming as if he decided not to physically respond. His response leaves you speechless, it’s not what you expected, “keep it up, you’re tempting me...”

With that, he leaves the basement and flicks off the light. “Goodnight,”

After staring at the door for a good minute, you decide it’s safe enough for you to lay down. You’re not sure how to feel about him right now. But for some reason, fear and apprehension aren’t as intense as before. And you might be wrong, but he sounded like he was convicted about doing all of this to you. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel like you could trust him, it’s hard to tell. But if there’s one thing for sure, something in your gut tells you that he’s not bad, he’s not the monster that you thought he was...

“She’s missing, her supervisor called me, said I was on her old emergency contact list,” He holds his phone between his shoulder and ear, not in a million years did he think he’d be calling his ex-girlfriend's mother with information like this, “don’t worry too much, I’ll try to get in contact with her.” 

It’s been a few weeks since you two have talked, so when Suzy called him, his heart just dropped. Even after your break-up, almost a year ago, you two considered yourselves friends. The two years you shared together were great. You were thriving in your career, he finishing Med-school so he could begin his residency. Many nights were spent with you staying late at the office, or him pressing for finals—your lives just weren’t merging. That’s when you both decided you were better off as friends. But you still have platonic love for each other

“Dr. Kim, I switched shifts with Katelyn,” Sara, the new medical assistant at the clinic peeked on through the open office door, ”I’ll make sure she gets those messages,”

He nods, getting his keys so he can head out too. When he leaves, getting his car, he decides to shoot you a text, hoping you might respond.

Jin: Hey love, I know it’s been awhile, hope you’re doing okay. I got a call from your supervisor this morning, apparently I was still on your emergency contact list at work. She said she went to your house and you were’t there. She waited 24 hours and you still hadn’t shown up to work , contacted anybody. She went to the police station, reported you as missing. If you’re okay, please contact me or anyone, I’m a little worried

Taehyung lies in his bed, not bothering to slide under the sheets, his skin is warm to-touch. His cheek still stings, the feeling brings the image of your face to his mind, and he feels remorse. Never in all his years alone, did he think he’d long for someone's company, someone's gaze meeting his. This penthouse has always been a bit lonely, all this money and space, it can’t take the form of a person. A companion. 

He feels guilty. He doesn’t have the right to think of your face, your eyes, your gentle hands that can inflict such pain, your spirit, what right does he have to grow so fond of those things. He’s never kidnapped anyone, especially not someone he was supposed to have killed months ago. But he did it to you, to the one he missed, in the words of his boss. The guild’s warnings prove to have been true all along. Don’t keep a target as a hostage, don’t get attached—it’s happening. He’s starting to want to get to know you, to get you to smile for him, at least once—it’s damn selfish, he hates himself for it.

When he hears a buzz coming from the drawer of his nightstand. He sits up, confused for a moment until he opens it up, realizing he had put your phone in there. He picks up the phone and presses on the message. He reads the message, eyes narrowing at the endearing term he used. Curious, he unlocks your phones and goes through your text vigorously, searching for what he hoped wasn’t there. As he goes to your past old messages from months ago, he sees I love yous, I miss yous, dinner at 7 my place? Then the texts become less frequent, the tender tone is no more and there’s apologizing on both ends. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this guy is your ex, now he’s on the list of people who are worried about you. 

He drops your phone back in the drawer. There’s no way anyone could find you yet, he’s nervous. This is getting too close, and at this point, he shouldn’t, but he wants you closer.

[moonlightheretic]

Wip Wednesday: The Heretic

Spoilers for The Heretic  Also, this one hasn’t exactly been proof read yet so please bare that in mind if you encounter any ….undesirable configurations or misuse of grammar. 

Something the color of emerald green peeked out from a slivered valley between two portraits. A fresco painting?! I gathered the disorderly miscellany into my hands with great care, despite my impatience biting at my heels, urging me to hurry. I would have to be more subtle than I was in Skyhold’s rotunda and knowing that thought slowed my grasping fingers and frantic arms. The whispers returned, swarming my mind with an insistence to listen. I brushed them off, I needed to see this. It could be a missing piece of this unfortunate puzzle, perhaps it held the journal, maybe another trap door?

I carefully cleared the wall of its decaying and friable camouflage and set the discarded papers at my feet. The candles rejoiced, casting vivid displays of amber, orange and gold galad along the grey lodestone.

Planes of grey that absorbed nearly the entire wall were interrupted by deliberate strokes of black. They carved into irregular shapes I recalled as familiar and chains of dabbles stippled into points, indications of something—mountain ranges? This was a… map. An informative landscape enlaced with the poetry of a painting. I waved my left hand over the fresco, just a fingers length away from the surface, hoping to illuminate every detail. I couldn’t afford to miss even the minutest scrap of information. My hand hovered over the circular green item that initially caught my attention. I gasped in surprise and my eyes were drawn upwards and downwards and from east to west. They were everywhere glinting back at me like daggers in the moonlight.

There were no names, nothing written to indicate where this was, only the blaringly obvious detail that horrified me beyond belief, the little green cylindular object represented an Elven artifact and they were drawn in all over this map. Covering what was now the Kingdoms of Ferelden, Orlais, The Free Marches and Tevinter. They gleamed in the firelight like the hungry eyes of wolves in the sight of a feast. As I looked closer, a red mark emerged from the darkness, for this fresco delivered it secrets within the twist of a methodical tease. Drawing its curtain back in a deliberate performance brimming with suspense and mystery.  There were red slashes blazingly struck through their centers, through all of—no, through most of them. I glanced at the open topped jar, its liquid contents flickered crimson, the smell originated from there. I dipped my finger in-- it was fresh, this was recent?  What did all of this mean?

I counted them, my anxiety growing with every stacked number, as every digit upgraded higher and higher until the number was finalized. Eighteen. Fifteen of them bore red slashes, almost as if they were being crossed off of…a tangible list. One of them sported an X instead of a slash, it was situated within what looked like a mountain ridge. It must have been the one I destroyed inside the mountain, I surmised.  With my finger I was compelled to trace an invisible line from one to another, at some points I strained on my tiptoes in my attempt to reach. I sought a link in this reign of madness.  Why were they all in these locations? There must be a purpose to their locations. These were his hooks after all, wedged into the fabric of the fade, the drastic tools in which he would rip it down. My finger caught on something sticky, red fresco clung to my finger. It was still damp. 

I studied the artifact’s surrounding area for any potential indication of a location. It was situated in what I believed was near Amaranthine on the corner right edge of Ferelden’s northern coast, small strokes swathed in bristled blotches spoke of trees and then there was a sketchy waterfall…I remembered this one. The place I had begged for him to end my life, the place where he informed me of my clan’s purpose and the cost of death. The red slashes confirmed what I feared most, oozing down my finger like a mimicry of blood; this indeed was a record. A headcount of all his artifacts, and which ones were activated; a destructive plan drawn up in the melodies of paint. Which meant, if I counted the one I activated in the deep roads, there was only one left that remained untouched.  My arm swept from left to right as I hazily mapped out each location with my red stained hand, I felt like I was drowning in a daze.

I withdrew as I absorbed the shape of my work, there in muted scarlet was the outline of a wolf, the constellation of Fenrir. This is what will bring that wolf into the world. His wolf.  As soon as recognition struck, my head spun and the whispers climbed into screams.

(The constellation Fenrir has 8, BUT for this story it is made up of 18 stars.)

Thank you for reading! 

Tagging- @kita-lavellan | @silvanils | @noire-pandora | @dreadfutures | @inquisitoracorn | @5lazarus | @coffeebirby | @protect-him | @Morganlefaye79 | @medlilove | @nivenor-krosis

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Smile

Scoop of the day is a writing challenge with a difference. Each fic is built from a set of (for the most part) randomly generated prompts and could be about just about anything, from breakups to smut to found family. Let’s enjoy some ice cream 🍦!

More info about the challenge here

Pairing: None, really. This fic is about Reader telling the League of Villains a story. It’s a side chapter to Bad Reputation, but there’s no mention of Reader x Dabi specifically so you can enjoy it as a standalone and imagine whatever pairing you want.

Rating: Mature 

Triggers: Blood and gore. Reader is a serial killer

Flavour(s): Cayenne

Prompt: 12, A Duel

Side Chapter: Bad Reputation

Notes: Reader-sama’s villain name and MO are inspired by an old Scots ballad about a man called Tam Lin who’s fleeing from the Fairy Queen. Every few years she pays a tithe to hell in the form of a human sacrifice and he fears he’s next.

——-

“Say, Big Sis,” said Toga, flopping down into the seat opposite you.

“What is it?”

You were sharpening your knives in one of the booths, only pausing to take a sip of your beer.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

She reached out to pick up one of your blades, prodding the edge against her finger.

“You know… that you worked with Stainy on a couple of jobs.”

You set down the knife you were working on, rolling your eyes as Toga immediately set aside the blade she’d been holding to snatch it up.

You had heard these rumours before. They were inevitable. You and Stain were both villains, though had no ties to any particular group; you were both serial killers with an impressive headcount between you.

The comparisons had pissed you off to begin with. You had vastly different MOs, after all. Stain killed and grievously injured heroes, while you butchered the corrupt. Stain’s kills were opportunistic and random, whereas you tailed your targets for weeks before you killed them. Stain’s victims didn’t know he was coming until it was too late. Yours received a calling card the morning of the murder.

Now that he was in jail, you’d made peace with it. You surprised even yourself by how sad you actually were. In a lot of ways, it was like losing a colleague.

“You’re talking about the Sapporo incident,” you said, to which Toga grinned.

“It was all over the news,” she said, setting down your knife and pressing both hands to her cheeks. “I saw photos of the crime scene on the internet… so much blood…”

A year or so ago, there was a double murder in Sapporo; a murder that bore the hallmarks of two notorious killers, both of whom were known to be in the area at the time. Police detectives theorised that Hero Killer Stain and villainess Titania had joined forces, though had never been able to work out why.

You had watched the conspiracies flood the internet and laughed out loud at how wrong they were. Some claimed you were Stain’s lover; others tried to prove you were rivals and the murders a result of a duel.

You cradled your beer, chuckling to yourself at the memory.

“It’s true that we were both there that night,” you said, “but it wasn’t deliberate…”

You realised all eyes were on you. Kurogiri, who was wiping down the bar, slowed right down. Spinner and Shigaraki had been playing Mario Kart while Dabi lounged on the couch and all three of them looked your way, paying no attention to the chaos on the TV. Spinner looked especially wide eyed, though he was a Stain fanboy, so you couldn’t say you were surprised.

You supposed you were their teammate now. They might as well know the story.

“Well,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “A year ago, I was in Sapporo, tailing a mark. Anyway, it was the middle of the night and I passed a group of deadbeats who wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone…”

“Naughty, naughty,” giggled Toga.

You smirked.

———

ONE YEAR AGO

“Hey, baby, don’t be like that! Come talk to us!”

You dug your hands into your pockets and continued to walk in silence, concluding that these idiots weren’t worth your time. They’d catcalled you the moment you so much as passed them and continued to follow you for three blocks.

“Baby,” one of them called, “don’t be scared! We don’t bite.”

“Much!”

You frowned, mentally counting to ten.

These guys had no idea they were poking a rattlesnake. They were the bottom of the barrel, turning to villainy for the same reason big kids hit the smaller ones in the playground. They didn’t have a creed or any semblance of honour, just a deep seated desire to feel tougher than they were.

You turned a corner, the men behind you shrieking like hyenas as you reached a dead end.

“C’mon baby,” said the leader of the trio, “smile.”

You turned to look at them, taking in their hungry expressions as the leader pulled out a knife and ran his tongue along the metal.

You watched, bored, before activating your quirk

Your quirk was simple. You could turn people into your thralls and have them do your bidding. They would jump from tall buildings if you asked them; could commit a murder and immediately forget.

It was more than a little bit handy in situations like this.

“You there,” you said, turning to address the leader. “Kill the other two.”

The two lackeys laughed out loud, though it didn’t last long, for their friend turned to them with a vacant expression and slashed open one of their throats. He rounded on the second, bloodied knife held high and lunged closer, leaving his friend to stumble to the floor.

“Wait! Bro! Stop!” he cried out, screaming as his friend stabbed him over again in the stomach. “St-stop, please!”

You watched the blood spatter, took in the sound of the blade hitting flesh. You released your quirk when you were satisfied, watching as the light came back to your thrall’s eyes, followed shortly by recognition. He spotted one of his men bleeding from the throat, the other slumped against a set of trash cans with gashes through his middle, and turned to you, horror stricken and trembling.

“What did you do?”

You stepped forward, ready to make a snide remark, only to fall silent as a hero arrived on the scene, doubtlessly alerted by the screams.

You learned from his obituary that his hero name was Augur; a recent graduate of a hero school in the area. You got the impression that he was a good kid, which made his fate all the more tragic.

“Ma’am,” he said, eyes widening at the scene before him. You didn’t blame him, all things considered. He was a greenhorn and had wandered straight into a murder scene. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

He saw only the surface level of what had happened and on that surface level you were a beautiful woman in a dark alleyway, surrounded by bodies and a man with a knife.

Your final victim realised it at about the same moment.

“What the fuck,” he cried out, “she’s the one who… she…”

“Sir, thank goodness!” you cried out. “This guy’s crazy. I was walking with my friends and he pulled out a knife!”

“What the… you bitch, stop lying!!”

He reached to grab you by the hair and yelled as Augur made short work of restraining him, binding his arms and tossing his knife to the floor.

“What… are you doing… stop… she’ll kill you… fuck…”

He wriggled on the ground as Augur stepped closer, reaching out for your shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“Thank you,” you said, playing your part well. “Thank you, s-“

You never got the chance to finish your sentence, for a shadow passed by you both. Augur reached up to touch his cheek, where a small cut had appeared.

Your eyes widened when you noticed the newest arrival on the scene: Stain, the hero killer. You’d heard he was in the area, though never dreamed you’d cross paths.

He raised his blade to his lips and ran his tongue over the blade, leaving Augur frozen to the spot.

The guy on the floor realised the danger moments later, screaming like a toddler as Stain advanced on Augur. You watched in fascination, so in awe that such a quirk might exist that it didn’t occur to you to feel guilty, much less intervene.

It was over in a matter of seconds; Augur the third and final person to die in the alleyway that night.

Later, people spent hours discussing the circumstances of that meeting. The leader of the trio swore blind it was a group effort- you had tricked him and his men into following you, knowing a struggle would alert heroes nearby.

You supposed the true story was rather disappointing.

You didn’t exchange a single word that night, didn’t acknowledge one other beyond a look.

Stain left as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with the sole survivor, who immediately tried to wriggle to his feet. You approached, deliberately slowly, only pausing to kneel down and pick the bloodied knife from the floor.

You turned it over in your hands, examining the intricate patterns on its hilt. It was beautiful, clearly expensive, and you kept hold of it as you returned to the guy on the floor, who by now was sobbing in fear.

“S-stop,” he said, pants darkening with piss, “please, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

He thought you were going to kill him. For a moment, so did you.

Instead you tossed a calling card at his feet and crouched down to whisper in his ear.

—-

PRESENT

“What was it?”

“What was what?”

Toga pouted, poking her fingertip with the point of your knife. You watched as its patterns caught the light; as beautiful now as the night you found it.

“The thing you whispered to him!”

You smirked, reaching up to pinch her cheeks.

“Smile.”

[anxresi]

Chloe’s Last Straw

Synopsis: 

Chloe is guilty of many things in her life. But not this. Never this. So when her mother says something unforgivable to a person she'd usually consider an enemy, it's up to her to put things right. Grab your popcorn folks, and get ready for a roasting. Written for Blackout Tuesday.

..............................

Caline Bustier sighed in exasperation, wondering how her once promising career as an educator had stuck her with this… the most ill-disciplined, out-of-control bunch of students she’d ever had to guide since her formative years as a kindergarten coordinator.

But even those young rapscallions had some level of respect for their elders, whereas the current batch of alleged ‘maturer’ teens…

They couldn’t even raise their heads for role-call in the morning.

“Max! Stop playing with that flying toy this second ! Mylene, Ivan… you can kiss each other during recess! Return to your desks now ! Nathanael! Put down those pencils and listen to me! Lila, I know you said you suffer from ADHD, but until I see a doctor’s note, I expect you to respond immediately when I call your name! Honestly, it’s like trying to herd cats! And where on Earth are…”

“I’m here! I’m here!!” As if in answer to her request, Adrien Agreste bustled in just then, out-of-breath and apparently with a ready-made excuse to explain his absence. “Dawn fashion shoot… then piano recital… early morning practice… stop me falling behind. A-Apologies Miss Bustier… you know how it is with my father…”

“Hmm, yes… I’m afraid I do .” The frowning teacher gave an understanding nod, for Gabriel Agreste’s huge expectations for his son often led to constant late arrivals for his son. “I would say ‘try not to let it happen again’, but something tells me it’s out of my hands. Oh well, at least you haven’t missed any actual lesson time this week. Go and sit down, please. Now I wonder where…”

“ Argh ! S-Sorry Miss! Mom got sick… and usually she handles the morning deliveries… so I had to take a quick detour on my way here… and…” bang

At least, that’s the sound effect there would’ve been, if a stumbling Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t been caught by Adrien on her inevitable descent to the floor. Right place, right time.

Still didn’t stop her blushing like a stoplight though.

“A-Adrien!! Gulp. H-Hi. ” The blunette gave a passable impression of a fish out of water.

“Hey there! F-Funny the places we run into each other, isn’t it?” Adrien seemed equally struck for what he wanted to say.

“ Ahem !” That was the sound of an impatient teacher, who obviously had no romance in her soul and was eager to restart the headcount. “If you two are quite finished with your impromptu act, you can save it for the talent show next month. Take your respective seats so we can get on. Wait…”

Glancing at Adrien And Marinette’s chairs had revealed something unprecedented in the recent history of this hallowed halls of education. In fact, so unbelievable was it, Miss Bustier had to rub her eyes twice just to make sure what she saw wasn’t just another product of her espresso-infused imagination.

For it would appear as though young Agreste and Dupain-Cheng, by some measure the most tardy pupils Caline Bustier had ever known, were not among the last ones to arrive that incredible day.

No, that dubious honor belonged to none other than the students the aforementioned pair shared a desk with, namely Nino Lahiffe and Alya Cesaire.

W-What the… the panicking teacher’s look of astonishment was completely forgivable, as both Marinette and Adrien made good their escape. I’ve never known anything like this to happen before. It’s most unlike them. I just hope they’re okay. Maybe, if they’re not here soon, I should ask the headmaster if…

Miss Bustier’s short soliloquy was interrupted by an unpleasant shrieking noise as a familiar pair strode in. The high-pitched noise made the hairs on her neck stand on end and shattered the formerly serene atmosphere of the classroom once and for all.

“ Dahling . You know I wouldn’t go back to New York without saying goodbye to my precious Coraline, don’t you sweetheart? I might be away for quite a while this time, even past Christmas, but you understand, right? If I’m not there to personally introduce my new range of spangly negligees to the world at Fashion Week, my competitors might steal my thunder! I might even be bumped off the front page of Vogue! And you remember what I’ve told you every day, since the blessed occasion you were born, whenever that was…”

“Yes, mother. ‘If you’re not somebody, then you’re nobody.’ I get it. But do you ‘get’: my name isn’t ‘Coraline’, it’s Chloe . Coraline is that so-called kids movie we saw years ago, the one that was so scary I nearly wet… you know what, n-never mind.”

The loud screech of Audrey Bourgeois’s voice was almost enough to give poor Miss Bustier a migraine, as if the prospect of trying to teach her disruptive daughter good manners wasn’t difficult enough. Why did this have to be the one day I forgot to bring my aspirin to class with me? Tell me, what did I do to deserve this? Did I walk under a ladder yesterday? Did I crack a mirror, or step on a gypsy’s foot by mistake? Please, if I am cursed for whatever reason, let me know how I can fix it. For the love of…

“Mrs Bourgeois! What an unple… u-unexpected pleasure!” The rapidly unraveling teacher put on her fakest, friendliest face to welcome the surprise guest. “How are you? When was the last time we met? I seem to recall it was at the salon…”

“What was that? Who is this strange person heckling me, dear?” Audrey pulled down her shades to stare closer, as Chloe whispered in her mom’s ear. “Oh yes, your public school educator. Still with the red hair I see, ugh . Yes, I remember… I told her to dye her roots blonde like me if she wanted a better job than the impossible task of instructing these degenerates. Because as we all know: ‘blondes have more fun’. Isn’t that right, Chlorine?”

Whether Chloe was still sore from Audrey getting her name wrong twice now, or just plain embarrassed by her female parent’s condescending behavior, who knows. She didn’t repeat her mother’s mantra again like last time though, and instead stood there nervously with her hands in her chino pockets, portraying quite an un-Chloe lack of confidence.

“Well anyway, if you simply must know Miss… Bustier, was it?” An uninterested Audrey inquired, proving the rumor true that her daughter’s name was the only one she regularly forgot. “I was just seeing my precious off, before catching the afternoon plane to uptown New York. It’s just wonderful there in the summer, with all the glitterati in attendance for the various functions. You really must try it, darling… oh sorry I forgot: on your meager salary, it might prove to be an impossible dream. Still, we can’t all be as ridiculously wealthy as me and my husband, can we?”

“Y-Yes, I suppose so.” Miss Bustier desperately kept her sentences as short as possible. She didn’t want the dreadful woman to stay there a second longer than absolutely necessary. “W-Well, I don’t want to keep you, if you have things you need to…”

“So, these are the local children you go to school with, dear?” Deciding she was tired with Miss Bustier’s ‘rambling’, a bored Audrey fixed a critical eye over the classroom. “Well, I must say, I’ve seen far better. A poor crop if ever there was one… why your father refused to let you be privately educated is beyond me. I suspect it’s because he wants to boost his election prospects by letting you ‘mingle with the common folk’, but is it really worth it? I hate to think the effect such distasteful surroundings must be having on your delicate young mind.”

Outraged gasps erupted from all around the room, and if Chloe could’ve jumped into a fifty-foot hole never to emerge, she likely would’ve done so with relish. Alas, this was not an option, and so once more the twitching girl was forced to deal with the consequences of her mother’s shameless arrogance and total lack of volume control.

But just as even the usually docile Miss Bustier was about to say something stronger to defend her visibly irritated students, the last two attendees emerged through the door, puffing and panting as they arrived at long last. Also noticeably, covered in what can only be described as black oil stains.

First up was Nino Lahiffe, who paused slightly to catch his breath and adjust his cap. Then came his girlfriend Alya Cesaire just behind, who despite being pretty exhausted herself, began to speak “N-Nino’s dad gave us a lift, but the car broke down. We had to help him fix it…”

Suddenly Audrey Bourgeois, obviously on a roll, glanced behind her with a pronounced sneer. Upon seeing the pair in question, her expression of disapproval grew even more pronounced…

And what she said next was truly shocking. Except, maybe not her.

“Who might these ‘people’ be, then? While I think it’s laudable you’ll let just about anyone into these types of schools Bustier, I hope you realize some individuals can’t be taught. Just look at those hopeless youths, for example. Obviously from a rough neighborhood, probably down to one parent each, deprived of everything to judge by their filthy clothing, and they can’t even be in class on time. Probably wasting their lives on the street listening to ‘wrap’ music, or whatever it’s called. As if this sort even need an education, in their future careers as minimum wage cleaners or drug-dealers. Really dear, you’d be better off kicking them out and investing in school uniforms instead…”

“ That’s enough !!”

Stunned faces all around. Jaws dropping to the floor. A few people on the verge of fainting, at the identity of the person who uttered those two screamed words.

It wasn’t Miss Bustier, who was prepared to declare her response by more physical means (a hard fist to the face of an unrepentant bigoted snob, if you must know).

Not Alya, who looked just about ready to burst into tears, being held by her apoplectic boyfriend  in his arms (otherwise, he might’ve formed an unstoppable tag-team with his teacher to kick some serious a**).

The surprise shouter was none other than Chloe Bourgeois, who having finally been pushed to her absolute limit at her mother’s complete lack of respect for anyone besides her own reflection, had finally snapped.

And boy, was it something to behold.

“Mom, as I’m sure anyone who isn’t you would agree, I’ve put up with a lot over the years. The insults. The dirty looks. Long absences. Always getting my name wrong. Never telling me you love me. Raising me to think ‘sacking’ anyone who disagrees with you is permissible behavior. I can tolerate all this and more, but there is one thing where I must draw the line. You want to know what that is?”

“ Must we get into this now, dear? You know I like first pick of the best VIP seats…” There Mrs Bourgeois went again, thinking this was just another conversation where she could brush off her daughter’s genuine concerns.

Well, in this case, she was about to get ‘schooled’ (pun not intended).

“Well, I’m going to tell you anyway. It’s racism Mom, plain and simple, and I won’t stand for it! Whatever problems I might’ve had with Alya and Nino in the past, and believe me there’s been plenty, I’ve never treated them differently due to the color of their skin! How shallow can you get?! And coming from me, this is the biggest of big deals!”

It was as if someone had lit a fuse underneath Audrey’s designer shoes, as the formerly unflappable woman suddenly recoiled in shock. “W-What… well I never ! How could you say such terrible things to me, Chlorophyll? Why, if you weren’t my own flesh and blood, I’d sue you on the spot! I’ll have you know, some of my best workers are blac…”

“Yeah, ‘workers’. You just made my point for me. That’s all they are to you, aren’t they? I’ve seen the way you treat them differently to even our other staff, calling them ‘tanned’ and ‘colored’ right to their faces. They don’t say anything because they don’t want to lose their jobs, and shamefully neither do I because frankly, you scare me sometimes. Well, that ends this second . The instant you behave that way again, I’ll be on you like a ton of bricks. Also, do you wanna know something else?”

“H-Huh?” Audrey’s demeanor had abruptly switched from coolness personified to utter confusion. Being called out so blatantly in front of a bunch of ‘underprivileged ragamuffins’ by her petulant child was not on the itinerary today.

“I’ll spoil it for you again. Father hates your attitude even more than I do! Whenever you finish treating the staff like the dirt under your feet, he goes to each one in turn to apologize personally. As well as give them a few extra euros that month, as if that’ll make up for the abuse they have to suffer. But look who I’m talking to! The woman who thinks Chinese and Japanese people are practically the same! And people wonder where I got such a stupid idea from…”

‘I-I…” For the first time in her life, Mrs Bourgeois was completely lost for words. All she could do was stare dumbly and numbly at her irrepressible daughter, as the young girl finished her extended lecture with a flourish.

“Finally, I suppose I should let you know about the head cook at our hotel. You know, the one who you think makes the best meals around for Daddy and his clients at short notice? Or when you have to entertain people, and she puts on a spread that’ll put any other caterer in the city to shame? That’s Mrs Cesaire, the mother of Alya over there. How do you think she’s going to feel, when she hears you racially insulted her daughter so terribly in front of her entire class? I don’t know, but if I were you I’d check my food for signs of saliva for a while. Also, put your lawyers on stand-by, because I think it may be heading for court. And if you want to know who’s side I’ll be on, here’s a clue…”

At this juncture, Chloe put her mouth to her now trembling mother’s ear to whisper sharply:

“...It won’t be yours!”

That was all it took for Mrs Audrey Bourgeois to collapse on the floor, in such a comatose state that not even the strongest smelling salts around could revive her in the foreseeable future.

...Not that anyone really wanted to do that, of course. Even the school nurse balked at helping someone who’d been so vile to the innocent students there. So, in an unconscious heap on the floor she stayed.

In the end, she missed her flight and the free expensive champagne on offer. Oh dear. How sad. Never mind.

As for Chloe, having said her piece and blithely sauntered over to her seat next to Sabrina afterwards, she was most surprised by the deafening cheer that subsequently erupted, as well as the much better treatment she got for an entire week afterwards by everyone present (even from Marinette).

As unusual as her newfound popularity was though…

She could quite easily get used to it.

If only she could master this whole ‘being nice’ thing.

..............................

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Remember everyone, having White Privilege isn’t just about paying lip service to the concerns of minorities and posting black squares and hashtags one Tuesday to show you care…

It’s about using your advantageous platform all year round to speak up to defend those in need, whoever they are. After all. if activism was just listening to others whilst doing precisely nothing to change the world outside the confines of social media, how are we gonna change the world?

Food for thought. Hope you enjoyed the story, which (I hope) got the point across well enough. Whatever you think, let me know… and thanks for reading! :)

[wclfmoon]

blood in the water | pack

thunder rumbled in the sky overhead, and the wind kicked up in the forest, sending gusts through the trees. allison slung her bow over her shoulder as she fell into step with derek and laura, making their way towards the depot. she glanced up towards the sky as dark clouds rolled over beacon hills, wondering if it was brynn doing this; if it was some combination of the witches magic, or if it was the salem coven announcing their presence as ominously as possible.

they’d received the warning from syd and kali and had quickly dispersed, sending the non-combatants to the school. she trusted in their safety there --- she had to. just like she trusted in gwen’s ability to still time for the town, and in their ability to end this battle as quickly and efficiently as possible, with minimal injuries to the pack. 

she had to.

she waited alongside the eldest hales in a clearing near the depot for scott, who was acting as a lure to the coven (and, in all likelihood, several members of praetor lux) to lead them out into the forest. her eyes scanned the trees, knowing that other members of the pack were out there already, fanned out among the trees, staying out of sight for now.

as rain began to fall lightly and as scott rejoined them, allison nodded her head towards the treeline. it was certain that the wolves had sensed the approach before she had; still, her hand fell to her knife for a moment, fingers flexing over the hilt before relaxing. she was sure the whisper that seemed to rustle through the trees was as much the wind as it was the pack alerting one another to the arrival of the salem coven. 

the line of people came to a halt in front of them; allison’s eyes swept over them, taking in a mental headcount: twenty-five, some armed with weapons, distinguishing them as members of praetor lux. she stood still between scott and derek, chin raised, staring at them as they stood before one man stepped forward.

he looked to be about fifty-five years old; his hair was buzzed short and his demeanor was confident, bordering on smug. the fact that he stepped forward indicated to allison that he was one of the elders; it sent a wave of disgust over her, knowing he was only as powerful and youthful as he was because of what he had taken from the children of salem.

“well, now, this is a surprise,” he said, his voice gravelly, older-sounding than he looked, solidifying her theory. “here i thought i was following cassandra rodrigues, yet i do not know all of you as i know her. well, let’s rectify that, shall we?” he chuckled, holding his hands out as though he were making introductions at a dinner party rather than on a battlefield.

“my name is david wardwell, leader of the salem coven. these are our other elders: maximilian howe, preston willard, alice bishop, weston carrier, and heidi eastey. and some of our best coven members, as well as a few friends.” a chill ran over allison at one of the names: alice bishop. had one of willow’s own family members handed her over as a sacrifice? “as i said, we are looking for a few of our own, and we have reason to believe they are here: cassandra rodrigues, dominic kim, and sydney asmara. now, we have no argument with any of you; in fact, we would be pleased to let your, ah, indiscretion go, if you would hand them over to us at once.”

“we have a proposition of our own,” allison replied. “we will not be handing anyone over to you. instead, we offer you the opportunity to walk away from here unscathed.”

david chuckled. “well, now, i’m afraid we can’t do any such thing.”

“then i am afraid we’re at an impasse.”

david’s eyes narrowed sharply. “if you refuse to hand them over to us, we will have to take them by force.”

“you’re welcome to try.”

the battle began in a blur. 

one of the witches lifted his hands, sending allison flying back against one of the trees. even as her body hit the trunk, she grabbed for the knife, throwing it to the witch who had attacked her; it burrowed deep into his shoulder, and he let out a scream even as he dropped her. the moment she hit the ground she rolled, grabbing her bow and taking aim, firing at the attacking coven and hunters.

at the sound of the battle, eden sprung from where she lurked amidst the trees, letting out a furious roar and grabbing one of the nearest witches, slamming her claws into his stomach and up under his ribcage even as her teeth tore into his throat. this was years of rage in the making; this was the moment she had planned for since the loss of her family. throwing his body to the side, she let out another roar, lunging for another witch as the remaining hunters and witches scattered, attacking the beacon hills pack as the dove deeper into the woods, and as the pack rose up to meet them.

lucy growled, baring her teeth at a hunter who swept in front of her, aiming a gun for her head. she dove as he pulled the trigger, ducking away and slamming into him, slamming him against a fallen log. she kicked the gun away and banged his head against the wood again, rendering him unconscious as jackson attacked another hunter beside her. a witch took aim at the two of them, but before they could cast their spell, a fireball flew at them; the witch moved in the nick of time.

“heard you were looking for us,” cass smirked, striding up alongside dominic.

“you two,” the witch spat, “are nothing more than walking sacrifices.”

“interesting theory. let’s test that, shall we?” cass replied, advancing towards the witch. both threw their magic at the same time, leading to a clash of fire and wind pressing against one another. cass pushed back with everything she had, forcing the fire closer and closer to the witch, letting out a scream in pain and fury as she did, refusing to bend. this was a fight for their lives; the pack was risking everything to protect them, and she would do anything to win it, to protect dom and cee and syd; to protect fee, to protect willow and ollie and lettie; to protect this entire pack and future generations of salem witches. winning was the only option, and cass was going to do everything and anything to make sure this coven didn’t go on to hurt anyone else ever again.