#high genious

[best-minion-memes]

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 7

Warning: violence, mention of past abuse, swearing etc

I hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

In the best interest of preserving peace within Navarre, no more than three cadets carrying rebellion relics may be assigned to any squad of any quadrant.

– Addendum 5.2, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

In addition to last year’s changes, marked ones assembling in groups of three or more will now be considered an act of seditious conspiracy and is hereby a capital offense.

– Addendum 5.3, Basgiath War College Code of Conduct

“Damn it” I mutter as my toe catches a rock, and I stumble in the waist-high grass that grows alongside the river beneath the citadel. The moon is nice and full, illuminating my way, but it means I’m sweating to death in this cloak to keep hidden, just in case anyone else is out here wandering after curfew. If on my way back from the General someone questioned me why I was out, then I had a good excuse. But now? It would be troublesome.

The Iakobos River rushes with summer runoff from the peaks above, and the currents are fast and deadly this time of year, especially coming out of the steep drop of the ravine. No wonder that first-year died when he fell in yesterday during our downtime. Since Parapet, we lost two first-years.

I move closer to the river, along the ancient line of oaks where I know one vine of fonilee berries will be coming into season soon. Ripe, the purple berries are tart and barely edible but, picked prematurely and left to dry, will make an excellent weapon in Vi’s hands. She knows a lot about poisonous herbs. She has a book that contains dozens of them.

Spotting the boulder I’ve used as a landmark for the past five years, I count the trees on the riverbank. “One, two, three” I whisper, spotting the exact oak I’ll need. Its branches spread wide and high, some even daring to reach out over the river.

It’s strange. The grass is more trampled around the tree, then I expect if Vi was already here.

“Vi?” I whisper “Are you here?”

Silence. Then…

“Aelin?” I see Violet’s head pop out between two branches near the top.

“How did you get up there with your arm?” I raise an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t really that difficult.” She sighs.

“Then I’ll climb up too and help you gather these berries.” I grab a lowest branch and start to climb toward Vi.

The fonilee vines looks deceptively like ivy as it winds up the trunk, but I’ve scaled this particular tree enough times to know this is the one. The tips of the vine leaves are white at this height, barely visible in the mottled through the canopy, but I grin as I see that Vi found a lot of those berries.

“Here” she whispers and hands me a vial.

Then I pluck just enough berries off the vine to fill the glass and shove the stopper back in.

“There. It should be enough to make it through the next challenges.” I hand it back to her.

“I collected mushrooms and other items, so I’m set for about a month.” She packs back the vial in her bag.

“Good. You’re a genious Vi.” I grin at her and start to climb down the tree.

I’m almost down the tree, only a handful of branches to go, when I spot movement beneath me and pause.

I signal Vi to stop. She pauses and looks at me quiestioningly. I point down and signal her to be silent.

Hopefully it’s just a deer.

But it’s not.

Two figures in black cloaks - apparently tonight’s disguise of choice - walk under the protection of the tree.

Maybe it’s a meeting point we didn’t know. It makes sense that the grass was visibly trampled around the tree.

The smaller one leans back against the lowest limb, removing her hood to reveal a half-shaved head of pink hair I know all too well.

Imogen, Violet’s squadmate who nearly ripped off her arm.

My stomach tightens, then knots as the second rider slips off his own hood.

Xaden Riorson.

Oh shit.

There’s a few feet between us. I can’t do anything to conceal us. If they look up surely they’ll see us.

They begin speaking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying, not with the river rushing by. Relief fills my lungs. If I can’t hear them, they can’t hear me either, as long as we don’t move. Imogen probably can’t see us from her place, but Xaden can. Shit, all it takes is for him to look up, and I’ll be toast, literally if he decides to feed me to that Blue Daggertail of his. Maybe Violet is high enough in the tree not to be seen. The moonlight I was thankful for a few minutes ago has now become our biggest liability.

Slowly, carefully, quietly I move out of the patchy moonlight to the next branch over, cloaking myself in shadow. What is he doing out here with Imogen? Are they lovers? But Xaden said that they aren’t. Friends? It’s absolutely none of my business, and yet I can’t help but wonder if she’s the kind of woman he goes for - one whose beauty is only outmatched by her brutality. They fucking deserve each other.

Xaden turns away from the river, as though he’s looking for someone, and sure enough, more riders arrive, gathering under the tree. They’re all dressed in black cloaks as they shake hands. And they all have rebellion relics.

My eyes widen as I count. There are almost two dozen of them, a few third-years and a couple of seconds, but the rest are all firsts. I know the rules. Marked ones can’t gather in groups larger than three. They’re committing a capital offense simply by being together. It’s obviously a meeting of some sort, and I feel like a cat clinging to the leaf-tipped limbs of this tree while the wolves circle below.

Their gathering could be completely harmless, right? Maybe they’re homesick, like when the cadets from the Morraine province all spend a Saturday at the nearby lake just because it reminds them of the ocean they miss so much.

Or maybe marked ones are plotting to burn Basgiath to the ground and finish what their parents started.

’Report them’ I hear the general’s voice in my head.

No. I don’t know what is this meeting, but if it’s something harmless then I can’t do that. They suffered enough because of a Melgren. I don’t want to be like my father. Never.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I have to get closer.

I signal Vi to don’t move as keeping myself on the opposite side of the trunk and sticking to the shadows that wrap around me, I climb down another branch with sloth-like speed, holding my breath as I test each branch with a fraction of my weight before lowering myself. Their voices are still muffled by the river, but I can hear the loudest of them all, a tall, dark-haired man with pale skin, whose shoulders take up twice the space of any first-year, standing opposite Xaden’s position and wearing the rank of a third-year. That’s Garrick? I only see him talk to Liam once, but he’s always by Xaden’s side.

“We’ve already lost Sutherland and Luperco” he says, but I can’t make out the response.

It takes two more rungs of branches before their words are clear. I’m close enough for any one of them to see if they look hard enough - well, except Xaden, since his back is turned toward me now.

I can see familiar faces from my hiding place. Liam. Another squadmate, Ethan. And some first-years whose name I don’t remember.

“Like it or not, we’re going to have to stick together if you want to survive until graduation” Imogen says.

I just happen to value my own life more than I want revenge  at the moment, so I keep my feet to myself.

“And if they’re find out we’re meeting?” a first-year girl with an olive complexion asks, her eyes darting around the circle.

“We’ve done this for two years and they’ve never found out,” Xaden responds, folding his arms and leaning back against the limb below my right. “They’re not going to unless one of you tells. And if you tell, I’ll know.” The threat is obvious in his tone. “Like Garrick said, we’ve already lost two first-years to their own negligence. There are only forty-one of us in the Riders Quadrant, and we don’t want to lose any of you, but we will if you don’t help yourselves. The odds are always stacked against us, and trust me, every other Navarrian in the quadrant will look for reasons to call you a traitor or force you to fail.”

There’s a muttered assent, and my breath hitches at the intensity in his voice. Damn it, I don’t want to find a single thing about Xaden Riorson admirable, and yet here he is, being all annoyingly admirable. Asshole.

Have to admit, it would be nice if a high-ranking rider from my province gave a shit if the rest of us from the province lived or died.

“How many of you are getting your asses handed to you in hand-to-hand?” Xaden asks.

Four hands shoot into the air.

“Shit,” Xaden swears, and I would give anything to see his expression as he lifts a hand to his face.

The big one—Garrick—sighs. “I’ll teach them.” I recognize him now. He’s the Flame Section leader in Fourth Wing.

Xaden shakes his head. “You’re our best fighter—”

“You’re our best fighter,” a second-year near Xaden counters with a quick grin. He’s handsome, with tawny brown skin crowned by a cloud of black curls and a litany of patches on what I can see of his uniform under his cloak. His features are close enough to Xaden’s that they might be related. Cousins, maybe? Fen Riorson had a sister, if I remember correctly. Shit, what was the guy’s name?

“Dirtiest fighter, maybe,” Imogen snarks.

Most everyone laughs, and even the first-years crack a smile.

“Fucking ruthless is more like it,” Garrick adds.

There’s a general consensus of nods, including one from Liam.

“Garrick is our best fighter, but Imogen is right up there with him, and she’s a hell of a lot more patient,” Xaden notes, which is just ludicrous considering she didn’t seem too patient while breaking Violet’s arm. “So the four of you split yourselves up between the two of them for training. A group of three won’t draw any unwanted attention. What else is giving you trouble?”

“I can’t do this,” a gangly first-year says, rolling his shoulders inward and lifting his slim fingers to his face.

“What do you mean?” Xaden asks, his voice taking on a hard edge.

“I can’t do this!” The smaller one shakes his head. “The death. The fighting. Any of it!” The pitch of his voice rises with every statement. “A guy had his neck snapped right in front of me on assessment day! I want to go home! Can you help me with that?”

Every head swings toward Xaden.

“No.” Xaden shrugs. “You’re not going to make it. Best accept it now and not take up more of my time.”

It’s all I can do to smother my gasp, and some of the others in the group don’t bother trying. What. A. Dick. The smaller guy looks stricken, and I can’t help but feel bad for him.

“That was a little harsh, cousin,” the second-year who looks a little like Xaden says, lifting his eyebrows.

“What do you want me to say, Bodhi?” Xaden cocks his head to the side, his voice calm and even. “I can’t save everyone, especially not someone who isn’t willing to work to save themselves.”

“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick rubs the bridge of his nose. “Way to give a pep talk.”

“If they need a fucking pep talk, then we both know they’re not flying out of the quadrant on graduation day. Let’s get real. I can hold their hands and make them a bunch of bullshit empty promises about everyone making it through if that helps them sleep, but in my experience, the truth is far more valuable.” He turns his head, and I can only assume he’s looking at the panicked first-year. “In war, people die. It’s not glorious like the bards sing about, either. It’s snapped necks and two-hundred-foot falls. There’s nothing romantic about scorched earth or the scent of sulfur. This”—he gestures back toward the citadel—“isn’t some fable where everyone makes it out alive. It’s hard, cold, uncaring reality. Not everyone here is going to make it home…to whatever’s left of our homes. And make no mistake, we are at war every time we step foot in the quadrant.” He leans forward slightly. “So if you won’t get your shit together and fight to live, then no. You’re not going to make it.”

Only crickets dare to break the silence.

“Now, someone give me a problem I can actually solve,” Xaden orders.

“Battle Brief,” a first-year I recognize says softly. Her bunk is only a row away from ours. Shit…what’s her name? There are too many women in the hall to know everyone, but I’m certain she’s in Third Wing. “It’s not that I can’t keep up, but the information…” She shrugs.

“That’s a tough one,” Imogen responds, turning to look at Xaden. Her profile in the moonlight is almost unrecognizable as the same person who shredded Vi’s shoulder. That Imogen is cruel, vicious even. But the way she’s looking at Xaden softens her eyes, her mouth, her whole posture as she tucks a short strand of pink hair behind her ear.

“You learn what they teach you,” Xaden says to the first-year, his voice taking a hard edge. “Keep what you know but recite whatever they tell you to.”

My brow furrows. What the hell does he mean by that? Battle Brief is one of the classes taught by scribes to keep the quadrant up-to-date on all nonclassified troop movements and battle lines. The only things we’re asked to recite are recent events and general knowledge of what’s going on near the front lines. At least I thought so, but after the meeting with the General I have a feeling that there’s a lot more going on than they le us know. Otherwise why would he want me to report everything about Xaden and the marked-ones? And that strange dagger. It’s only logical if all of this is somehow connected.

 “Anyone else?” Xaden asks. “You’d better ask now. We don’t have all night.”

I realize then—other than being gathered in a group of more than three, there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing here. There’s no plot, no coup, no danger. It’s just a group of older riders counseling first-years from their province.

“When do we get to kill Violet Sorrengail and Aelin Melgren?” a guy toward the back asks.

My blood turns to ice. The murmur of assent among the group sends a jolt down my spine.

“Yeah, Xaden,” Imogen says sweetly, lifting her pale green eyes to him. “When do we get to finally have our revenge?”

He turns just enough for me to see his profile and the scar that crosses his face as he narrows his eyes at Imogen. “I told you already, the daughters of generals are mine, and I’ll handle them when the time is right.”

He’ll…handle us? My muscles thaw with the heat of indignation. I’m not some inconvenience to be handled. My short-lived admiration of Xaden is over.

“Didn’t you already learn that lesson, Imogen?” the look-alike Xaden chides from halfway down the circle. “What I hear, that Melgren girl did a number on you on the mat.”

Imogen’s head snaps in his direction. “She was just lucky. Besides Sorrengail’s mother is responsible for the execution of my mom and sister. I should have done more than just snap her shoulder.”

“Her mom is responsible for the capture of nearly all our parents,” Garrick counters, folding his arms over his wide chest. “Not her daughter. Punishing children for the sins of their parents is the Navarrian way, not the Tyrrish.”

„The same goes to Aelin.” Liam interjects with arms crossed.

„And you fucking friends with her. How can you do that?” Another first-year shouts.

„As Garrick said, she’s not responsible for her father’s actions. And she’s not a bad person.” He answers with narrowed eyes.

That’s…kind of him. I mean everybody down there hate me but he isn’t. It seems he’s really my friend. I feel somehow relieved.

 “So we get conscripted because of what our parents did years ago and shoved into this death sentence of a college—” Imogen starts.

In case you didn’t notice, they’re in the same death sentence of a college,” Garrick retorts. “Seems like they’re already suffering the same fate.”

“Don’t forget the youngest Sorrengail’s brother was Brennan Sorrengail,” Xaden adds. “She has just as much reason to hate us as we do her. And I heard that Melgren grew up with the Sorrengails.” He pointedly looks at Imogen and the first-years who raised the questions. “And I’m not going to tell you again. They’re mine to handle. Anyone feel like arguing?”

Silence reigns.

„Good. Then get back to bed and go in threes.” He motions with his head, and they slowly disperse, walking away in groups of threes just like he ordered. Xaden is the last to leave.

I draw a slow breath. Holy shit, we just might live through this. But I have to be sure they’re gone. I don’t move a muscle, and signal Violet to do the same as I count to five hundred in my head, breathing as evenly as possible to soften the beats of my galloping heart. Only when I’m sure we’re alone, when the squirrels scurry past on the ground, do I finish climbing from the tree, jumping the last four feet to the grassy floor. Violet is almost down too.

A shadow lunges behind me and I open my mouth to shout Violet to run, but my air supply is cut off by an elbow around my neck as I’m yanked against a hard chest.

’Shit. It hurts.’ I thought as pain shots to my cracked ribs.

“Scream and you die,” he whispers, and my stomach plummets as the elbow is replaced by the sharp bite of a dagger at my throat.

I freeze. I’d recognize the rough pitch of Xaden’s voice anywhere. “Fucking Melgren.” His hand yanks back the hood of my cloak.

“How did you know?” My tone is outright indignant, but whatever. If he’s going to kill me, I’m not going down as some simpering little beggar.

He scoffs. “I command shadows, idiot.” He lowers the knife and steps away. „You can come down too, Sorrengail.”

I gasp and briefly touch my ribs. Shit. He eyes my hand curiosly as I lower it as soon as I can. He knows that something is not right. It will give him an advantage.

“Your signet is a shadow wielder? And „idiot”? What happened with the sunshine?” I step away from him, closer to Violet, who lands behind me.

No wonder he’s risen so high in rank. Shadow wielders are incredibly rare and highly coveted in battle, able to disorient entire drifts of gryphons, if not take them down, depending upon the signet’s strength.

“What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?” His voice is like rough velvet along my skin, and I shiver, then draw my own blade from the sheath at my thigh and raise it, ready to defend us to the death.

“If it hadn’t occured to you than Dain and I aren’t exactly friends.” I roll my eyes. „Is this how you plan to handle us?”

“Eavesdropping, were we?” He arches a black brow and sheathes his dagger like I couldn’t possibly pose a threat to him, which only serves to piss me off even more. “Now I might actually have to kill you.” There’s an undertone of truth in those mocking eyes.

This is just…bullshit.

“Then go ahead and get it over with.” I unsheathe another dagger, this one from beneath my cloak where it was strapped in at my ribs, and back up a couple of feet to give me distance. Violet moves with me, daggers in her hands.

He pointedly looks at one dagger, then the other, and sighs, folding his arms across his chest. “You really want to fight with me? You barely won over that second-year and I’m way better than him.”

Cocky bastard.

“I’m better than you think. I’m not some damsel in distress.” I flat-out bluster.

“So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.” The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk.

Fucking. Asshole.

Two daggers shots past me and past his head, one on each side. They land solidly in the trunk of the tree behind him.

“You missed.” He doesn’t even flinch.

Shit, Vi. It’s not a good thing to give him more reason to kill us.

“Did I?” I hear Vi behind me. “Why don’t you back up a couple of steps and test that theory?”

Curiosity flares in his eyes, but it’s gone in the next second, masked by cold, mocking indifference.

Every one of my senses is on high alert, but the shadows around me don’t slide in as he moves backward, his eyes locked with hers. His back hits the tree, and the hilts of her daggers brush his ears.

“Tell me again that I missed,” she threatens.

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?” An appreciative smile curves his perfect lips as shadows dance up the trunk of the oak, taking the form of fingers. They pluck the daggers from the tree and bring them to Xaden’s waiting hands.

My breath abandons me with a sharp exhale. He has the kind of power that could end us without him having to so much as lift a finger —shadow wielding. The futility of even trying to defend myself against him is laughable. But I can’t let him to kill us so easily. I need to buy some time for Vi to run away.

I hate how beautiful he is, how lethal his abilities make him as he strides toward me, shadows curling around his footsteps. His allure is a warning not to get too close, and I am definitely too close. Switching my grip to the hilts of my daggers, I prepare for the attack. He looks ready to slit open my throat.

„Run, Vi!” I order her as I move as fast as I can, as I cut in his direction with my daggers.

He easily dodges, than with a strong blow at my right hand knocks my dagger out of my hand. Swiftly I turn in the other direction to avoid the another attack. It seems he waited for exactly that as he deals a blow with his fist in my side.

The air rushes of my lungs as I drop on my knees. Bloody hell. I cradle my ribs with my hands as I wheeze for air. If they’re not broken now, they never will be.

“You should find another guardian, it seems the current is useless.” He says to Violet as he approaches her. „Show that little trick to Jack Barlowe,” Xaden says, turning his palms upward and offering her the daggers.

Useless? I flinch. That word… A wave of memories tries to drag me under.

“I’m sorry?” She blinks at him.

This is a trick. It has to be a trick.

He moves closer, and she lifts her blade.

My heart stumbles, the beat irregular as fear floods my system. I need to stand up. I push aside the pain, the memories. I need to help Violet.

“The neck-snapping first-year who’s very publicly vowed to slaughter you,” Xaden clarifies. He reaches under her cloak and slides one blade into the sheath at her thigh, then pulls back the side of her cloak and pauses.

I cautiously step beside Vi with another dagger in hand. When I see his face I pause. It’s…strange.

His gaze locks onto the length of her braid where it falls over her shoulder, and I could swear he stops breathing for a heartbeat before he slides the remaining dagger into one of the sheaths at her ribs.

I feel a pang in my chest. What is this feeling? I’m…jealous? Ridiculous.

“He’d probably think twice about plotting your murder if you threw a few daggers at his head.”

This is…this is…bizarre. It has to be some kind of game meant to confuse me, right? And if so, he’s playing it really fucking well.

He actullay likes Violet? He doesn’t hurt her as he did with me.

“Because the honor of my murder belongs to you?” She challenges. “You wanted me dead long before your little club chose my tree to meet under, so I imagine you’ve all but buried me in your mind by now.”

He glances at the dagger poised at his stomach. “Do you plan on telling anyone about my little club?” His eyes meet hers, and there’s nothing but cold, calculating death waiting there.

“No,” she answers.

„Good.” He steps back and turns to me. „And you Melgren? Can you keep shut your mouth?”

„I won’t tell anyone. But not because of you.” I say while sheathing back my daggers. I don’t think he will kill us now.

“Why not?” He tilts his head to the side, examining my face like I’m an oddity. “It’s illegal for the children of separatist officers to assemble in—”

“Groups larger than three. I’m well aware. I’ve lived at Basgiath longer than you.” I lift my chin.

“And you’re not going to run off to Daddy, and tell him we’ve been assembling?” His gaze narrows on mine.

My stomach twists to the mention of the General.

“You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.” It wouldn’t be fair to him or the others. Was their little meeting illegal? Absolutely. Should they die for it? Absolutely not. And that’s exactly what will happen if I tell. Those first-years will be executed for nothing more than asking for tutoring, and the senior cadets will join them just because they helped. “I’m not going to tell.”

He looks at me like he’s trying to see through me, and ice prickles my scalp. My hand is steady, but my nerves tremble at what the next thirty seconds might bring. He can kill us right here, toss our bodies into the river, and no one will know we’re gone until they find us downstream. But I won’t let him end me without drawing his blood first, that’s for damn sure.

“Interesting,” he says softly, then looks at my chest. „What happend with your ribs?”

„Today was assessment day, you know that well.” I lie fluently, I’m good at that.

„Do you mean the second-year whom you fought cracked your ribs?” He raises an eyebrow?

„What other explanation would there be for it?” I’m playing the dumb.

„That’s what I’m curious too.” He crosses his arms. „I watched your match and except from the bruise on your face, the second-year can’t even laid a hand on you. After that I escorted you to the Healers Quadrant. You stayed there until night and with Sorrengail you gone back to the dorms.” He recites my movements with alarming accuracy. „I doubt that you fought someone in the dorms or one of the first-years told us about it.”

„What? Are you watching me that closely?” I try to dodge the topic. He’s smarter than I gave him credit for, and I already knew he’s not an idiot.

„Of course. You’re a threat to all of us, Melgren.” He says. „So where do you get that injury?”

„It’s none of your business, Riorson.” I grit my teeth.

„You told us after Battle Brief that the General wanted to see you after classes.” He thinks out loud. „Someone caught you on your way to, or back from him?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

Violet gasps and I turn my head to her and see the horrified expression on her face.

Shit. I told her years ago that he stopped doing these kind of things. In reality he doesn’t, I just got better hiding the bruises. And now she knows.

„Who hurt you?” He steps closer, with something wavering in his eyes. It’s…pity, and anger? No, it’s impossible, he wants to kill us.

„I say for a last time in case you didn’t hear me earlier, Riorson.” I hiss at him. „It’s none of your fucking business. And if you won’t kill us tonight then we should go back to the dorms.”

“Hm. We’ll see if you keep your word and keep our secret, and if you do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” Then he steps away, turns, and walks off, heading back toward the staircase in the cliff that leads up to the citadel. Wait. What?

“You’re not going to handle us?” Violet calls after him, shock raising her brows.

I groan. Vi, for fucks sake.

“Not tonight!” he tosses over his shoulder.

She scoffs. “What are you waiting for?”

“It’s no fun if you expect it,” he answers, striding into the darkness. “Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.”

“What?” I gawk after him. “You’re our wingleader!”

But he’s already disappeared into the shadows, leaving me talking to myself like a fool.

„Aelin, is the Gen…” Violet turns to me with panick in her eyes.

„Vi.” I hush her. „We’re not going to talk about it. You probably pieced together what happened but that’s all. Someone can hear us.” I look in her eyes with a serious expression.

„But… There has to be a way to stop him.” She says pleadingly.

Sweet, kind Violet. That’s why a lied to her for years.

„Don’t worry, Vi.” I smile at her. „I will handle it. Everything is going to be alright. I won’t see him for who knows how long. It’s another advantage of this quadrant.”

I can’t tell her the General wants weekly reports. She would get herself into trouble on my behalf. I can’t let it.

„I… Okay.” She sighs. „But if I can help you, than you must tell me!” She says firmly.

„Deal.” I smile warmly at her. „Now come, we need to go back. We deserve a good sleep, it was a long day.” I link our arms as we starts our way back to the dorms.

[sallage]

The Milkman - NSFW

The Wheel AU

Part 1 

Warning: This is an intense tickle fic!

Summary: It had been years since Bakugo had last stepped foot outside of the city. Graduating U.A. at the top of his class, interning and working for The Genious Office, and making a name for himself had been cake once Deku was suspended. The first few months, he'd hardly thought about the nerd. After that, not at all. What he didn't know, was that the life he'd grown acustomed to was about to derail in one of the most sadistic and twisted ways he'd never thought possible.

Pairing: Lee Pro Hero Bakugo, Ler Villain Deku

Words: 10,466

Reading Time: 41 Minutes

A/N: Holyyyyyyyyyy shit. This is the longest fic I have ever written. I had sooooooo much fun writing this and I'm actually kind of proud of it.... just a little(: Please let me know what you think! Enjoy!!

Read more ∘₊✧ Here ✧₊∘

The room was mostly empty. 

Bakugo was blindfolded, but he could sense it. He could tell by the way the metallic clang of the chains clamoring around his neck reverberated off of the walls. The bastard had fucked with Bakugo enough for him to learn how sound worked in a small room, which is why his heart was already in his throat when he felt a tug against the icy narrow band, which he’d learned the hard way, meant stop.

So he did.

“Good boy.”

Bakugo growled, a low animalistic noise from deep within his throat. If someone gave him one million attempts to predict his future, he never would have guessed this.

That he would end up a piece of meat for the nerd to fuck with for his own sick, demented pleasure. 

When Deku was suspended from U.A., Bakugo's graduation at the top of his class became effortless, with the internship and job at The Genius Office falling into place just as smoothly.

Once Bakugo had turned twenty-five years old, he had developed a high level of renown and respect as a hero. The final arc of his success was right there, literally in the palm of his hands. 

Then everything went to shit.

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Reports of a faceless crime lord monetizing black market drugs and illegal erasure darts on the dark web were far from unknown. However, an anonymous tip had led them to discover a money laundering outpost posing as a trading card store. After years of coming up empty, Bakugo was itching to discover something, anything useful.

All they had to do was monitor the establishment.

Bakugo couldn't see the use of the three men sent to scout with him, especially after the store had closed, so he’d sent them home with a note reviewing the new tracker that had been implanted in their gums. The technology was new and not widely tested yet, plagiarizing elements of skin and bone, so Bakugo was confident that the chip would be missed if he were somehow captured and searched.

He’d spend the next several hours watching.

Maybe he should have gone home after the fifth hour of quiet.

It wasn’t until four in the morning, when a small sliver of activity caught his eye.

A lone person in a black hood quietly exited the dark store.

Bakugo recognized the possibility of a diversion, that the person in the hood was simply meant to draw prying eyes away from the store while other things went on behind the scenes. Bakugo had seen the trick used before.

But he couldn't help but feel… drawn.

So he followed them.

The thought to report an update was fleeting.

The hooded figure remained silent and unperturbed. Bakugo kept a safe distance in the shadows, his soft footfalls masked by the rising pitch of the winding river and bridge ahead. The figure's movements remained consistent and steady as they both crossed, the city now but a shimmering dot in the darkened distance.

They crossed into ghostly, suburban territory. 

After around ten minutes, a graffitied public school park looming under a broken flickering street light caught his attention.

A twinge of familiarity ran down his spine.

Distracted, Bakugo didn’t see the hooded figure round the sidewalk. Cursing, he rushed to catch up.

When he’d rounded the corner, they were standing in the center of the street, staring at some old, tragedy stricken apartments with their hands casually slung into their pockets.

Bakugo considered the situation, and his eyes narrowed as he contemplated initiating a confrontation. The very small and mature voice he’d annoyingly developed in his mind told him to think about his endgame. If he rushed the shady bastard now, he would tip off the villain operation and everything they’d learned up to that point would be as useful as dirt. He’d need to have reasonable proof and all he’d had was a stupid feeling.

Bakugo gritted his teeth and growled under his breath. He’d wanted to confront the fucker and kick his ass, but it was too early to have a full picture of what was really going on. The store could simply be that, a store, with nothing more to it.

He rolled his eyes and before he could talk himself out of it, took careful steps away in an attempt to slip back out, then paused. Maybe if he could catch a glimpse of their face…

“My mother still lives here.”

Bakugo's body went completely still. His breath stopped in his throat, and his heartbeat pounded in his chest like a hammer against steel.

The figure lowered their hood, glowing green eyes trained on the apartments.

Bakugo blinked. Everything else fell away from him.

“Everyday I think she’d leave, especially after I destroyed the neighborhood. Do you think she’s still waiting for me?”

He should have left right then and there.

Instead, Bakugo rose from his crouch and slowly walked out onto the street. Each step he’d taken had an undeniable ferocity to it, his eyes like two burning embers that could turn into an inferno at a moment's notice.

It was the fucking high school drop out. And he knew Bakugo was following him. He’d probably known it the second he’d left the store, maybe even before. 

“Izuku.”

“Kacchan.”

The familiar nickname wasn't spoken with the same fondness that it had once been uttered with, instead carrying a tone that made it sound more like an insult.

Gone was the silly, quirky, and fun-loving person that was filled with goodness and joy. In his place stood a dangerous, predatory, and threatening presence. In his eyes no longer shined the bright light of his once golden heart, but instead the glimmering of a cold and dangerous predator.

“Don’t do this! Please don’t let them take it, Kacchan!”

Bakugo scowled at him, his palms grew hot. 

“Why the hell are you here?”

He should’ve reported the update. Hell, he should’ve called in the entire damn agency.

Deku’s voice was steady, eyes trained on the apartments. “You didn’t like our walk down memory lane?”

Bakugo’s eyes sparked.

The playground, the river, the fucking card store.

Bakugo bristled. He should have known. It was obvious. “Answer the fucking question.”

Black tendrils slowly slithered out of Deku’s back. Bakugo’s palms sizzled.

“No one’s talked to me like that in a long time.”

Without so much as a twitch as a warning, one of the tendrils struck. Bakugo quickly shifted and dodged, failing to realize that Deku had simply struck the ground just next to where the blonde once stood, intentionally pushing him right into a hulking frame standing silently off to the side, who wrapped massive arms around Bakugo’s chest from behind. 

His palms crackled and sparked with the orange and red of his quirk, building up and igniting in a devastating explosion that engulfed them both in a calamitous blaze of volatile force. 

Somehow, deep in the heat, he felt a sudden and painful sting on the side of his neck. 

In an instant, the heat and power from his attack subsided, dissolved by the abrupt numbing sensation that spread through his body and left his hands smoking and twitching. His body tingled, all of his senses numbed and weakened.

“Motherfffuuhh-”

Another sting, and his vision wavered and blurred. He shook his head, fighting against it.

It was a fucking trap. Set For him. 

He’d known he was going to pass out and these fuckers were going to take him. He’d wanted to fight it with as much defiance and disrespect as he could. Profanities spewed from his lips accompanied by worthless sparks that popped from his numb, useless hands. His eyes seared into Deku, but the villain’s eyes remained locked on the apartments, not even sparing him a sideways glance before whatever drug they injected him with finally overwhelmed his senses.

He’d woken up in the same damn room he’d been staying in for the past week.

Over the course of that week, Bakugo had fought harder than he ever had in his entire life. He’d bitten fingers, head butted anyone within range, and spat. His mouth proved to be as dangerous as his quirk, but three days in the muzzle and firmer restraints taught him to use his talents sparingly.

As expected, they’d missed the tracker during the strip search. He’d woken up with it warm against his tooth, confirmation that someone was indeed looking for him.

So he’d reserved his energy, save for every few minutes or so when he would religiously check if the quirk erasure dart was still active, hoping to catch it before they’d eventually inject him again.

On his first night, blindfolded, cursing and thrashing, they’d shoved him into a chair and bound his legs to it along with his arms to a hanging contraption above his head. It took seven of them to eventually subdue the aggressive pro hero, all of them walking away with some kind of injury.

Deku didn't make an appearance that night, but the orders to his grunts were clear.

Extract any information Bakugo had uncovered about their operations.

Bakugo was expecting to be tortured. He’d mentally prepared himself for it the moment he’d woken up in this shit hole. And he was, just not in the way he was expecting.

Deku didn't want to dignify Bakugo with a formidable excuse for when he eventually gave up. He wanted to humiliate him.

For the first three days, he was brutally and sadistically tickle tortured.

When the method of torture was revealed, to say that Bakugo was flabbergasted would be an understatement. He’d imagined needles under the nails or flaying. Hell, he was even expecting something ironic like being branded or burned alive. So when he was finally forced into the chair, the last of his flailing limbs secured, he braced himself for the kind of pain that would match the reputation Izuku created for himself, only to be startled by harmless and rough fingers and hands, ticklishly squeezing sensitive spots on his body.

The pro hero sneered and taunted the goons, under the impression he was safe for the time being. 

But of course, he would be proven wrong.

The grunts took their time and expertly learned his body. They triggered reactions and sounds Bakugo didn't know he could make and tormented spots he didn't even know were ticklish. After hours of meticulous work and charting, they’d put the information they gathered to blindingly effective use. Bakugo learned a few things about himself that night, things he would pay top dollar to forget.

And he’d weathered the torture by the skin of his teeth.

The second day, Deku made a personal appearance, and cracked him in less than an hour. Bakugo answered every single question asked of him, relevant or not.

Still, it wasn't enough for the damn masochist.

Deku didn't just want answers from Bakugo, he wanted him to pay.

So now, in the fourth day of hell, Bakugo has nothing to say or give that would spare him from whatever Deku planned. 

Today was purely about revenge.

A hard hand clamped on his shoulder and the blonde blindly stepped forward, letting the hand guide him.

He swallowed his resistance and it slid down his throat like sand.

The hand lifted. He paused.

Then there was light.

Bakugo blinked several times after the blindfold was lifted. The intensity of the dazzling lights in the room made his eyes squint and nose itch. His eyes landed on a tall, colorful object planted in the center of the room.

The Wheel.

Deku had seen fit to inject whimsy into his revenge plot with The Wheel: a colorful 20-slice abomination that would randomly determine how Bakugo would be tickled that day.

A fucking Wheel.

 Bakugo sizzled in place. He wanted to rip the bastard’s guts out and make him eat it. He wanted to kill him.

Deku blew Bakugo a kiss and strode towards it.

"Let's see what The Wheel wants us to do today." Deku winked and gave it a spin.

Bakugo's sense of how much time had passed was determined by how many times the wheel had been spun: 5, and this one made 6.

The Kennel

The Carwash

The Gang

The Hog

The Milkman

The wheel began to slow, its revolution enrapturing both Bakugo and Deku...

The dial stopped on The Milkman.

The door suddenly busted open and two grunts walked inside, carrying something that reminded Bakugo of a weird combination of a padded sawhorse and a spanking bench. There were cuffs towards the front where his arms would rest and vise versa where his calves would be placed. Towards the back of the middle cushion that would support his waist and hips, was a custom cut hole that looks like it could fit…

Bakugo’s eyes widened.

The smile that slithered onto Deku’s face was maniacal. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw, continuing to stare at the contraption even after Deku smugly faced him and tugged at the leash. 

“No.”

Tug

“Fuck. off.”

Deku cocked his head to the side, an amused expression squaring his face, as if Bakugo was a stubborn kid not wanting to get into the bath.

Tug tug tug tug-

“You mother fucking piece of stupid shit. I said no.”

“I don’t care.” Deku slurred, playing with the leash. “You don’t have a choice.”

Bakugo remained still. He wanted to fight. He wanted to scream. But if the past few days had taught him anything, it was that without his quirk, resistance only lead to extreme suffering. The bitter pill? Deku knew his body better than he did. The largest explosion in the world wouldn’t be enough to tamper how he felt about that.

“I could force you,” Deku shrugged, reaching over to open the collar. “That would be easy. But I think it would be more entertaining for me to watch my men do it. And if they have to come in here again, they’re staying.” Deku smiled, encouraged by Bakugo’s visible frustration. “And participating.”

Bakugo’s eye twitched. He knew that no matter what he did, he would end up on that fucking bench. His violent objections in the past had made quick work of him. Just thinking back to that damned tree…

When Deku gestured to the bench, Bakugo reluctantly obeyed.   

“Take everything off and get on.”

This was supposed to humiliate him. To make him compliant to his own torture. A sick kick back to those days in high school when he’d scream at anyone who dared to give him orders.

Cursing obscenities the entire time, he stripped off his clothes and laid face down onto the bench, carefully fitting his groin into the cushioned hole. 

Deku restrained him accordingly.

Thick, fur lined straps secured his wrists and ankles tightly. Another strap looped around his waist, and an added infinity loop tightly secured his lower thighs right above the bend of his knees, forcing his legs slightly apart and flush against the legs of the modded bench. 

Bakugo clenched his jaw and rested his forehead on the cool leather as Deku circled, lingering far too long right behind him.

“You really kept in shape.” Deku whistled.

“Fuck off and get this shit over with.”

“Excited to start?”

Bakugo jerked when he felt something ghosting lightly along both of his flanks, and he instantly knew it was Blackwhip. The touch felt feathery and ethereal, like cool fingers made of harmless, tickly sparklers. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek, grateful Deku couldn't see his face from this position.

“We have so much to catch up on.”

The ghosting along his sides curved inward, tracing and slithering over his stomach and hips. It slowly dragged back and forth, up and down over the smooth skin, making Bakugo want to claw it off.

The way he was positioned arched his back slightly, so he couldn't close that small gap that gave Deku easy access to those spots. The fucking bastard.

“We don’t have shit to do with nothin’.” Bakugo spat through his teeth, uselessly forcing himself to stay as still as possible. His stomach muscles twitched of their own accord though, instantly snitching on his stoic facade. 

“I think we do. I plan to make up for lots of lost time, Kacchan.” He goosed his ribs.

Bakugo flinched and clenched his jaw so tight, he felt the hurt in his neck. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

“Mmm. It never bothered you before. What’s different now?” 

Bakugo ground his teeth together. He jumped when he felt more tendrils start teasing the muscles on his back, tracing agonizing patterns and small circles right underneath his shoulder blades. A lone tendril slithered up his spine, slowing down just enough to trigger an involuntary lurching reaction Bakugo did every time he was touched right below the back of his neck. 

“You ffffucking-”

“Whats different now?” Deku repeated, sliding two tendrils up his spine this time.

Bakugo tensed his entire body and cringed, waiting for the tendrils to touch down on that stupid spot. Instead, he jumped when he felt them split up and caress over the top of his shoulders, tracing down to the little dip that made up the corners of his armpits. Bakugo’s arms strained, trying to push them back into himself and close the gap.

“I called you Kacchan our entire lives.” More tendrils pushed out from his back, wrapping around each of his ribs, softly vibrating in place, still tracing. Randomly, one would squeeze.

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me to stop.”

Bakugo inhaled sharply when he felt the tendrils at his shoulder blades slither down his back, the slow trek brought a curse to his lips. 

Deku didn't speak again until it teased around his lower back and touched down on his ass. 

Deku drew long and sensual circles along the soft, toned skin, causing Bakugo to twitch and huff puffs of air through his nose. Discovering his ass was ticklish was one of the things he would die to forget.

Deku’s voice was low. “The question wasn't rhetorical.” A firm squeeze to his ass made him him jump. “Or optional.”

Bakugo snarled. “Fuck off, you piece of shit.”

Deku chuckled and Bakugo seized when all of the tendrils started moving in different directions at once, all of them teasing the fuck out of him. Circles were drawn on either sides of his back, tendrils pressed inward towards his shoulder blades, along his spine, and behind his flanks. Two wafted up and down his stomach in different patterns with two more teasing the edges of his stomach. Two ghosted the rim of his armpits, occasionally dipping in smoothly, making him jump. Two teased his hipbones, occasionally dipping inward towards the inner thighs, tracing the crease right before his thighs became his crotch. The two on his ass stroked abstractly, making him twitch with each pass. He felt two additional tendrils ghost the back of his thighs and the hollows behind his knees.

He was moving around a lot now. Frustrated noises and loud puffs of air through his nose were quiet in comparison to how loud he made the bench squeak with his erratic movements. The occasional gasp left him when the tendrils tracing his ribs moved inward, playing with the sensitive spot right underneath his pecs, or that delicious spot right underneath his underarms. The occasional squeeze anywhere on his body forced him to jump. Regardless of sensitivity, all of his nerves were absolutely on fire.

 He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt two new tendrils slowly ghosting down his calves, stopping just over the heels of his feet. The only ones on his body not moving, and he was hyper aware of it.

Deku let Bakugo stew, watching the blonde lose more of his composure with every passing second. Bakugo pushed his head against the cool leather and balled his hands into shaking fists, his body starting to work up a sweat.

This was the kind of tickling he hadn’t experienced yet. It didn't make him hysterical, didn't make him scream until his throat hurt, and didn't make him thrash like his life depended on it, but it made him want to claw his fucking skin off. It tickled so fucking much, but it wasn't nearly intense enough for him to justify letting out any of the building tension through laughter. He couldn't fucking stand it.

For a hot five seconds, he went berserk on the bench. He yanked hard and bucked attempting to kick and thrash. Spittle flew from his clenched teeth and he growled when Deku watched him with a smirk, using the tendrils on the sides of his stomach to dip into a pocket of sensitive nerves right by his flanks. 

Bakugo dipped his shoulder inward and to the left, as if he could close off the gap that allowed Deku entrance. He groaned out loud and used his arms to buck once, twice, before being so fed up he couldn't handle it anymore.

“Fucking stop already!” He boomed. “If you’re gonna do it, then fucking get it over with, you pathetic coward!” The slow and methodical sensations were making him so fucking frustrated. He couldn't help the way his back arched, the way his head snapped back when the tendrils behind it slithered too close to his neck, the way his shoulders and arms jerked violently in an attempt shake off the tendrils, or the way his toes flexed and splayed regardless of the threat that ominously loomed inches away.

Deku chuckled again. “You’re so ticklish.”

Bakugo cursed when he felt two tendrils slowly gliding up the insides of his thighs. They traced the sensitive skin right next to his balls, curving up and down, spreading out and caressing the skin under his ass and back again. Bakugo spluttered and yanked hard at the restraints, the ticklish muscles in his arms flexing under the mischievous and ethereal touch of Blackwhip.

“You fucking loser ass villain bah-” The tendrils on his feet twitched. Bakugo’s mouth clamped shut.

“Hm?” Deku hummed, leaning his ear toward the heaving blonde.

“Fucker.” Bakugo cursed. “What the hell is it you want from me?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” Deku gleefully mocked. 

“You’re a goddamn fucking moh-morohon!” Bakugo cursed, busying himself with another bout of frustrated thrashing when more tendrils swirled under his arms. “I’m not playing your backward ass games!”

Deku smirked. Without letting up on Bakugo’s treatment, he grabbed a chair and sat right next to the blonde, who had to tilt and rest his head on his left cheek to look Deku in the eyes.

“You’ll do whatever I want you to do.” He slurred, kicking his foot up on the edge of the bench where Bakugo’s shaking arm rested. 

The tendrils around his ribs prodded firmly. Bakugo flinched hard, unable to hold back the gasp that choked him.

“The day I got suspended from U.A.,” Deku’s eyes roamed shamelessly over Bakugo’s trembling body. The blonde straightened his head and closed his eyes, still painfully aware the tendrils on his feet were still as stone. Anxiety bubbled up in his throat. He knew Deku did it just to fuck with him. He fucking knew it.

“I begged you to help me.”

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

“Grrh! The school hahas rules, dumbass! Not my ff-fuckin’ fault you weh-went and broke ‘em!” Bakugo snapped. The damn tendrils never stopped moving, always switching places and finding new spots on his infinitely ticklish body. He was going to throw an aneurysm if it didn't stop.

Deku’s eyes darkened. “Not your fault, huh?”

Bakugo sneered. He couldn’t focus! “Damn it! If you got somethin’ to say, just fuckin- GAH!”

The tendrils on his heels traced slowly down his foot, spilling down his arch and wiggling slowly like a snake, tracing over his incepts, the sides of his feet, wrapping around to the tops and circling their tips around the balls. 

Bakugo released a large puff of air and slammed his forehead against the leather, breathing harshly through his teeth. He yanked hard on his arms, face turning red with titanium effort. He jolted and grimaced when two tendrils slithered under his toes, the others still circling along and around the balls of his feet. Just a ghost of a sensation, but it psyched the fuck out of him.

Two more tendrils, parallel of each other, traced down the sides of his feet, looped around down to the heal, then zipped up to the toes, following the outline of the undersides and back again to repeat. Two other tendrils appeared and started tracing the ticklish spot along where the arch melts into the heal and then two other tendrils outlined his calves and ankles.

Bakugo lifted his forehead just to slammed it again against the leather rest, frustrated agony sizzling at the corners of his mouth.

Deku smirked, reveling in Bakugo’s priceless reactions. “You’re acting like I’m shoving a burning knife through your gut. I bet you would prefer that.”

Bakugo huffed and growled, sweat dripping off his heated skin. “What… do you gohddamn… aaghh- want?!”

“Let’s play a game!” Deku quickly stood, knocking over the chair. All of the tendrils finally, finally stopped and Bakugo shamelessly let his entire body flop onto the bench. He barely took two much needed breaths before Deku whistled. Bakugo heard the door open behind him, but he was too exhausted to attempt to look. That was, until he felt someone crouch underneath the bench. His head jolted up and he was about to speak when he felt something wet squishy and warm envelop his entire manhood. Bakugo jerked up so hard he actually moved the bench slightly.

“What the fuck! What the fuck?!” Bakugo screeched, thrashing heavily again as the person underneath the bench fitted the squishy thing over Bakugo’s penis and balls. The person then stood and pulled two straps around Bakugo’s waist, tying them in a neat little bow above his ass. Bakugo saw a tan hand pass Deku a controller and without a word, whoever it was, left and closed the door behind them.

Deku palmed the controller, observing it as if he were a critic admiring a strokeless painting. Bakugo’s face turned red with anger, embarrassment, and everything in-between.

“What the fuck is that? What did your perverted ass minion put on me?! Answer me, damn it!” 

“These are the rules of the game,” Deku started, ignoring Bakugo’s whining. “First, if it’s not obvious, I’ll be tickling any spot of my choosing.”

Bakugo glared at him. “What the fuck is on my dick?!”

Deku smiled. He turned the controller and Bakugo strained to see it. It looked like a TV remote but it only had eight buttons on it. One circle button in the middle with four arrows around it. There were two buttons parallel to each other below it and one button at the top.

Deku rose his pointer finger, and made a show of pressing the top button.

The on button.

Bakugo flinched with a disgusted yelp when the thing around his cock and balls started vibrating. He anchored his back and tried to pull his penis out of the hole but he couldn't lift himself high enough.

“You’re fucking kidding me!” He screamed, a whole new wave of frustration coursing through him. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” Another bout of useless thrashing. He whipped his head towards Deku, sneering at him with all the hate he could muster. “You’re fucking dead! Do you hear me? When I get the fuck out of here, you’re- AHHH!”

Deku yawned and pressed the middle button. The squishy material Bakugo was encased in started moving. It squeezed and pressed and massaged in a sloping downward fashion, simulating a blowjob with winnowing pressure that caressed his entire length. The space that enveloped his balls started gently squeezing them, massaging them softly. Then, around his scrotum, he felt a circular object like thing close tightly, acting like some sort of cock ring.

It felt… amazing.

After almost an entire week of torture, Bakugo almost succumbed to the sensations right there, despite the makeshift ring. 

Instead, he bit back his carnal reactions and pressed his forehead onto the head rest. “N- St-stop… Fffuckin’-” He groaned and bit his tongue.

“Enduring the tickling will be something you’ll have to do. What you’ll not have to do will be so much harder. Get it?”

Bakugo growled, trying to think about anything other than what his body wanted to do right now. He felt his manhood instantly get harder, more susceptible and sensitive.

“Why… why the damn-”

“I’m glad you asked.” Deku’s green eyes sparkled. “If you cum while I’m tickling you, you cant cum again on that spot for the rest of the game. If you cum twice on the same spot, you lose. If you win,” Deku shrugged again. “I’ll let you go.”

Bakugo hardly heard anything until those last four words. “What?”

“If you win,” Deku enunciated, punctuating the sentence with a careless gesture. “I’ll let you go.”

A chance. A fucking chance. He knew he couldn't rely on Deku’s word, but it was the only opportunity to present itself in this goddamn nightmare.

“Not like I… have a fuckin’ choice.” Bakugo groaned, using every ounce of energy he had not to lose the game before it could even start. 

Deku grinned. “We’ll do two rounds.”

Bakugo assumed once the tickling started, it would be easy not to focus on the thing doubling his vision. It was the only silver lining he could think of, the only hope that he could cling on to. 

Funny how he suddenly needed the tickling to overwhelm his pleasure.

“Alright!” Deku clapped his hands together. “Let’s start.”

“Set a.. Grrhh- S-set a fuckin’ timer.”

Deku tapped his temple. “It’s up here.” 

Bakugo was about to protest, but closed his mouth when Deku, with a diabolical grin, slowly unsheathed Blackwhip. The blonde watched with disgust as inky tendrils slinked toward him with twitching excitement and intent.

They touched down on his left side first, caressing his flanks and ribs and slipping softly under his arms. He cringed, the pumping sensation on his dick still prevalent. He flinched when a tendril squeezed his hips and ribs at the same time. 

“You… fuck… you said ohone damn s-spohot!” 

Deku chuckled. “I’m just trying to decide.” 

More poking and prodding, more flinching and cursing, then all of the tendrils traveled up and started tracing his shoulders, inner biceps, the lower outline and rim of his armpits.

“Here.” Deku said, joyfully. “Ten minutes starts now.”

Bakugo clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting a burst of insufferable tickles, but the light tracing continued. The makeshift cock ring in the pump gradually released and he felt a rush of dangerous pleasure. With a long groan, the teasing and the tickles were completely obliterated from his mind, hardly able to feel them anymore as the pump expanded and closed in, the massage of his balls deepened causing him to shift around in his restraints, unconsciously grinding his hips to further the sensation.

He was close and was hardly resisting anymore. He teetered on the brink of ecstasy, a welcomed feeling afloat in a sea of agony and shit else. He felt something inside him swell, could have sworn the toy around his shaft pumped faster with excitement. Maybe just one time, just in this spot, wouldn’t be so bad. He could avoid it in the next round.

Yes, he’d decided. Who fucking cares if Deku watched. The sick fuck probably got off on it. Bakugo shoved his previous reservations aside and allowed the bliss to fully envelope him. Fuck everything and everyone else, with one final groan he-

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA! WHAHAAAA! DEHEHA- AAHHHHAHAHAHA! FUHUHUHK! DAHAHAMN IT!! YOHOU FUHKING- DAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Bakugo exploded into a generous mix of curses and laughter, brought on by the four tendrils circling the rims on either sides of his armpits to suddenly close in and undulate into the sensitive flesh. One was squeezing and floating around the ticklish muscle right where the armpit and chest connect. Another was pushing and rotating just above but not quite on that delectably torturous spot above his ribs, and the last two were shamelessly digging right into the center, One stationary, the other circling largely and being sure to not to leave any spot untouched. 

Bakugo thrashed. He pressed his chest into the bench and slammed his forehead onto the headrest. His hands clenched and unclenched from their trembling fists and his shoulders bounced up and down from pure mirth. The surprise caught him off guard, although he would kick himself for not expecting it if he had the ability to think at all. 

Being denied a peaceful release at the absolute last second made his body tingle with newfound sensitivity. His stomach filled with frustration and his throbbing cock twitched as it was continuously and mercilessly pumped.

Quickly tumbling down from his euphoric high, he cursed and fought. One of the tendrils found a delectable spot at the top left inner muscle, where the edge of his shoulder creased into his armpit. Being caught so grossly off guard by the spike in sensitivity, it easily knocked and bursted through to the most secluded corners of his mind.

“GAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! AHAH AAAHHHAH! AAHAHAHA! FFFAAAHAHAHAHA- GGRRRAAAAH! GAHAHAD DAHAHMN IT STAHAHAHAP!”

Deku wore a toothy grin and just hummed to himself.

Bakugo tried to use his momentum to rock himself on the bench, hoping to tip the whole damn thing over but it held steady. Unable to manage anything more then a few stress creaks, Bakugo pushed each of his shoulders in and squished them against the bench, but the tickling never relented. He jolted violently when two random tendrils goosed his ribs.

“ARRRGGHH! GAHAAD DAHAMN YOU DEHEKHU! STAHPFUC- AAHAHAHA! STOP FUCKINGARAHAHOUND!”

Deku chuckled and raised his hands. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist.”

“BAHAHSTAHAHARD! SHIHIHIHT! GAH! NO! NOO!! STAHAHAP!”

Deku feigned innocence as one of his lower tendrils slowly slinked more so towards the bottom of his armpits, causing Bakugo to thrash harder, doing a piss poor job of covering up his panic.

Suddenly, he yelled out when he felt the toy around his manhood start to squeeze. The tendrils under his arms gradually slowed their manic torment, leaving Bakugo huffing and puffing with each sensitive pass. Bakugo rested his sweat riddled forehead against the leather, squeezing his eyes shut in aggravation. The transition from obnoxious tickling  pleasure was rough and Bakugo felt his arms shake.

The smile in Deku’s voice was infuriating. “How are we doing?”

He didn't realize it until a surge of pleasure slapped him in the face but Blackwhip was no longer pinching and prodding. Instead, swirling and ghosting. The toy around Bakugo’s length suddenly started pumping, undulating up and down in an unpredictable pattern. Strokes, like a tongue, traveled up his length, the winnowing pressure taking him in deep while it massaged his balls. Although still there, the tickling quickly became secondary.

Bakugo couldn't help the carnal groan that left his tight lips. Everything fell away from him as he openly welcomed the only good sensation he’s felt since being in this shit hole. He wanted this and he didn't care if Deku saw and mocked him. This was only the first round, He’d be able to avoid-

Bakugo yelled out as he released the first drops of ecstasy. The slicked out muscles on his back rippled as he arched into it, riding the whole thing out. The tendrils never stopped teasing his armpits, and he didn't give a shit. He couldn't feel it anymore. Sparks ignited and bloomed across his vision. After a moment of shameful, shattering pleasure, he slumped. Spent and breathless.

Deku whistled.

The toy didn’t slow. He felt something brush across his reddened tip. Bakugo twitched and gasped, pushing his hips back as far as he could.

”Fff-Fuck!”

”That’s one for the armpits.” Deku commented, casually. “If it’s going to be this easy then I think you might be screwed.” 

“S-sta- Sh- I’m- I’m gonna-“

“What?” Deku’s eyebrows rose, amused.

”I’m gonna fffuckin’ k-kill you.” Bakugo panted, his pitch rising and falling in rhythm with the thing around his cock overstaying its welcome.

Deku’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “There’s the Kacchan I knew.” 

Bakugo opened his mouth but slammed it shut when Blackwhip started moving.

”After All Might gave me One For All,” Deku started, moving Blackwhip slowly, ever so slowly downward. “He told me to keep it a secret.”

“I’m sorry, young Midoriya. Please hold still.”

Bakugo cringed as he felt the tendrils slowly swoop over his ribs. He felt them expand so they caressed right underneath his chest. Two tendrils on each side teased the ribs that wrapped around his back, while two other sneaky ones still swirled in his armpits. He hissed through his teeth as chills iced down his spine and goosebumps appeared all over his body. He shook his head, as if he could will it all away. To his dismay, the teasing is so much more frustratingly ticklish than before.

He grunted when two guileful tendrils flicked and circled his nipples on either side.

“But I told you about it anyway, and I did it out of respect. Respect you didn’t deserve or appreciate.” Deku continued. “Even after All Might, The hero we both grew up admiring, saw it fit to pass his quirk onto me, you still told me I was worthless. Unworthy of U.A. A psychopathic freak.” 

A tendril goosed his upper ribs, another slithered down his stomach, drawing wide circles around his belly button. Two closed in on his hips, pressing into the bone with light pressure. Two teased the skin underneath his ass, two played with the tendons next to his groin, right along the edge of the toy. Another two slinked down his legs and teased his ankles while circling around the heels of his feet. He jumped when an additional pair circled around the balls, occasionally dipping in and tracing the skin right underneath his toes, massaging the stems and teasing the bases.

His heart rate picked up and his breath came fast. His skin tingled as his nerves fired at him with obnoxious sensitivity. He could feel every delicate stroke, every harsh poke, every sensual touch and squeeze, and couldn't help the giggles when they spilled out of his snarling mouth.

The fucking orgasm. It made him even more sensitive.

He was so fucking screwed.

Deku paused, letting the epiphany the other was clearly having, sink in. “I started to believe you.”

All of the tendrils poked their respective spots at once, causing Bakugo to let out an undignified yelp and jolt. Every little movement now started him to the core. 

“Funny how a worthless, psychopathic freak now holds the leash to your collar.”

“Is that what this bullshit is about?” Bakugo’s voice boomed with irritation, edgy nervousness punctuating the end of his accusation. “What the hell do you want, damn Deku? A fuckin’ apology or somethin’?”

Deku shook his head. All the humor was void from his face, his voice dark and emotionless. “I’ve never wanted anything from you.”

Bakugo blinked when Deku raised his hand with the remote and pointed it at him. He couldn't see what button he pressed, but he gasped when suddenly the toy started vibrating. Teasing strokes evolved into sensuous pumping. He was hard again in seconds.

The tendrils eased off. All except the ones stationed at his ribs. Three teased the bottom, two on his left, one on his right. Two on each side teased the middle of his ribs, swirling and poking, following the curve of his back, and another  two danced across his upper ribs, rubbing back and forth, up and down, ghosting underneath and the sides of his chest.

“I’m sure you can guess which spot is next.” Deku clicked his tongue. “Looks like you might lose before I even start.” 

Bakugo’s head snapped up from where it was resting. “Fuck you!” His biceps strained with the titanic effort of trying to lower his arms. He arched his back, pushed himself forward, tried to dip his shoulders and chest hard against the leather, but nothing phased the tendrils determined to take me straight to hell. They encouraged the sort of panic that he felt like he could taste. The toy’s vibrations increased, the flesh of the toy slowly starting to suck, doubling his vision with pleasure.

“There was a spot around here… where was it again?” Blackwhip poked and nudged at his entire rib cage. Bakugo spluttered and hissed through his teeth, body jolting and flinching with every jab.

“Fucker! You, mother fuc-!!” Bakugo spat. “Stop this- Mmgghhm- bulh-bullshit! III’ve fuckin’ had it with y-AH!”

“Mmmm.” Deku mused. Blackwhip paused, pinpointed tendrils vibrating softly right on that dreaded spot. Bakugo froze as well, looking at Deku with the most hateful glare he’d ever given anyone.

“I wonder if-” 

Squeeze

Bakugo inhaled so sharply, he choked. “AUGH! Damn it, stop!” He tried to haft and throw himself around on the bench. Deku only smiled, a sadistic glint in his eyes.

Blackwhip softly, softly undulated once more and Bakugo would have hit the ceiling if he wasn't so tightly restrained. “MMGGHH! STOP! Don’t you fucking do it, you fuck!”

The toy around his needy length pumped faster and his attention was quickly averted to the sudden burst of pleasure that wracked through his body and made him shutter. His mouth opened in a silent groan, which transformed into an unrestrained yell as Blackwhip again, teased one of his death spots.

He hafted himself up hard, creaking the bench. “NO!” He cursed, shoving all of the authority in his voice that he could muster. “Just fucking stop this! I swear to FuhuahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAK! SHIHIT!”

The three tendrils teasing the bottom of his ribs dove in, rubbing fast and harshly between and around the bone, the third tendril went rogue and snuck over his quivering stomach and down to his thighs. Bakugo shook his head in delirium and fruitlessly bucked his hips up and down. Even with the torturous tickling rerouting his mind, the pleasure he was feeling from the toy was still very much present. Slowly, he felt himself twitch and glisten with pressing need.

Deku hummed. “Oh, does that tickle?” 

“FAHAHAK YOU! GAAGHH! NAAAAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” 

The tendrils stationed at the middle of his ribs came alive, mimicking the same unpredictable technique as the ones on his lower ribs. Bakugo fought hard, knowing what was next, knowing he couldn't stop it. Two tendrils slowly wrapped around his thighs, goosing and tickling the whole way. Bakugo expected them to attack his thighs again, but unexpectedly, they slipped their teasing tips underneath the sleeve of the toy, now slowly stroking and wrapping around the bare skin of his penis. Aside from dissolving into harsh thrashing and seizing like he touched an exposed cable, something else instantly came over him. In a moment of panicked weakness he opened his mouth.

“AAHHH! GAHH! WAIT! FUKIN’ WAHAITWAIT! WAHT DOYOUWAHAHAHNT?!” 

Deku answered simply. “This.”

Two things happened at the same time. 

The tendrils resting and teasing his death spot pulled back and dove right in. Viciously rubbing into that incomprehensibly ticklish spot without a shred of mercy. Four more vibrating tendrils latched on, squeezing, rubbing and scratching torturously. 

The tendrils that snuck into the toy, wrapped around the entirety of Bakugo’s heat and lightly squeezed, following the rhythm of the toy. It pumped Bakugo excitedly, the two tips reaching his pre-cum soaked tip to swirl and rub, lick and tease. One of the tips pressed underneath the head, flicking under it like like an experienced tongue, while the other teased and stroked the slit.

Torn between two incredibly overwhelming sensations, Bakugo’s voice instantly gave out. For a moment, there was silence. Bakugo’s mouth was open in a silent, lustful, tortured scream, his sweat glistened muscles rippled with the intense single pull he was imposing onto all of his limbs. His toes clenched and his nails bit into his fists. After one sharp intake of breath, 

Bakugo fittingly exploded.

“AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FAHAHHA! NONONOHOHOHONOOOOO! GAHHH! NAHA- I CAHHAHA- ST- GAHAHAHAHAD OHHOHOH FUCK! OHFUUUUUCK!! DEHEHE- PFFTAHAHAAHAHA!! AHAHAAAASHIHIT! SHITSHITSAHIT!! AHAHAAAAAAAAHAHAH! GGRRAAAAAHHH!!! -AHAHHAHAHAAA————OOOOOPP! STAHAHAHAP STOPSTOPSTOPFUCKINGHELLSTOHOHOHOHP!! AHAHAHA————”

 Deku watched Bakugo fall apart, a maniacal, sadistic smile creasing his face. “Found it.”

“AAAAHH! FUCKDEKUSTOOOOOOOOOOOP! FAHAHAK! I CAHAHA- GAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I CAAAAHAHAHAH-”

“What was that?” Deku stuck his tongue into his cheek. “You can’t what?”

Bakugo’s mind was blank. His entire world was encompassed by all of the sensations saturating every recess of his brain. He whipped his head around, slamming it repeatedly against the headrest, the cushioning not even allowing him the relief of pain. He quickly approached the lower level of laughter, where it became mostly screams.

“ICANTTAKEIT! OHFUCKINGSHIT I FUKIN CAHAHAHAHA! AHAHA AHA AHA AHAHAH! ICAHAHAHANT! STOOOOOOOOHOHAAAAAAAAP!”

The toy picked up its pace, encouraging the tendrils wrapped around his dick to follow along. A few new tendrils squeezed his balls, Two flicked and rubbed his nipples, one even licked up the side of his neck, right underneath his jaw. His eyes flew to the back of his head.

“Want me to stop tickling or stop pumping?”

Bakugo’s face was alight with fire, he wasted no time. “TICKLING! STAHAH THE TIHIHIH-TIHIH- FAHAHAHAK! STAHAHAHAP TIHIHAHAHA-!”

“If I stop the tickling, you’ll lose the round. Are you sure you-”

“YES! YEHEHEHS! YESYESYESJUST- SHIHIHIHT!! STAHAHAHAP! FUCKINGHEHEHELL!” 

Deku instantly stopped and focused his energy into on the blonde’s dick.

“MMMMPHHHHH FFFFFUUCK!” Bakugo moaned, arching his back and shaking his head, grinding his hips along the bench. “FFFFFFFFUHHHHHK!” Bakugo groaned, lost in a new kind of torment.

He closed his eyes, everything instantly fell away from him when he felt a tendril slip over his tip again. He felt the build up burn in his stomach, felt his penis throbbing, his tip glistening, ready for release. He felt the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had gather, aching in his swollen balls. Despite the need for air, he held his breath as the first drops of-

“GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

Bakugo’s voice cracked when everything simply stopped.

The tendrils and the toy fell limp. His body tingled as if all of his limbs fell asleep. Sweat dripped off his chin as he gasped. Opening his mouth to curse, a strangled sound came out instead when everything resumed. He flinched and jolted in his restraints, but the pumping and “licking” resumed, throwing him right back into that agonizing build up. Right when he could see stars, it stopped again.

He jerked his head up and seared his eyes into amused green ones with a guttural growl, only to force his head back down and clench his fists when it all started again.

“You…. You ffffuh- ffucking b-”

“I’m just helping you out.” Deku cocked his head to the side, chuckling. “Trust me, you don’t want to cum again.”

Bakugo closed his eyes, but he couldn't have a moment of rest before the pumping started again. He filled his cheeks with curses and air, releasing them in a flurry when rogue tendrils buried themselves into his ribs, his worst spot spared for now, as he was thrown head first into more ticklish chaos. He couldn't handle this much longer. He couldn't handle this now. He felt his sanity slipping through the cracks, but it didn't matter.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Deku trilled after a few more minutes. “If you beg me to cum, I’ll let you. Then we can move on.”

Beg him to lose the game. Beg him to take away the small change at freedom and hope that he had. Beg him to keep him here and torture him until help eventually came or he went batshit.

No, no he couldn't.

Bakugo snapped out of it. He returned Deku’s wicked glare and sneered. “Fuck. You.”

Deku narrowed his eyes and smirked, as if he was hoping for that exact answer. “Tickling it is then.”

First, there was a moment of silence.

Then pure, unadulterated madness.

Blackwhip attacked every inch of Bakugo’s ribcage. Bakugo screamed, a high pitched uncharacteristic shriek that shocked both of them. Then, he fell into manic, hysterical unrestrained laughter. Laughter that only maddened when his worst spot was finally targeted. Bakugo couldn't feel when the toy started again, couldn't feel the bubbling build up, or the burn of release that taunted him from mere inches away. He couldn't feel any of it, not until the tickling abruptly stopped and he stole greedy breath before countless tendrils converged on the entirety of his tip, sliding and slinking over the crimson peak it while the tendrils wrapped around his dick pumped up and down his length with mouth watering speed. His eyes stung with mirthful tears before he was thrown right back into ticklish oblivion. 

Once his death spot was awarded another short break, Bakugo used that opportunity to quickly give up.

“OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAHAHAYE! OKAHAHAHAHAY JUHUSTFUKINGDOHOHOHIT! I GIHIHIVE! IGIVE! JAHAHAAST MAAKEMECUM! DHAHAMNIT!”

“Mmmm,” Deku considered for a moment. “Say please.”

“AAGHHAHAHA!! GAHAHAHDDAHAHMN YOU!” Bakugo was slapping the edge of the leather wrist rest with his hand, trying to physically tap out. “PLEHEHESE! FUCKINPLEHEHESE! JUHUST STOP TIHIHIHCKLING!”

The tickling didn't stop completely, but it was enough. Bakugo was hardly afforded the gift of relief as tendrils immediately pumped and licked, massaged and caressed his entire length. The toy suddenly closed up around the tip and so similar to a warm mouth, he felt licking, swirling and even sucking. The rest of his twitching member was caressed and abused with soft and fast lustful strokes. Spit dribbled out of his mouth and beads of sweat glided down his sides and back as he arched.

 He had no idea how many tendrils were pleasuring him now, but every damn spot was zapped with unbelievable, world shattering, sinful pleasure. Tendrils slinked through his toes and circled around the balls of his feet. Others lightly ghosted up his long arches and more teased his heals. New, lustful feelings seared from his feet straight to his dick, which pulsed in tandem with the activity. He didn’t dare start to unpack that.

The tendrils reappeared at his nipples and neck, his eyes once again dug into the back of his head.

He lasted an impressive 50 seconds.

He groaned out loud with his long release, his damp rob and body twitching through each pump of glorious rapture. His orgasm, almost matching the duration of his endurance, forced his twitching toes to curl, the squirming tendrils undeterred by even that. His abs and back muscles flexed, the light reflecting off of each sweaty twitch and convulsion.

He slumped heavily after it was through. He bucked and hissed when the tendrils around his ribs hardly gave him a second before teasingly slinking down, tracing over his twitching sides and pressing into his hips and thighs.

“Two for two.” Deku counted, unapologetically. “I’m not sure I like your odds.” 

Bakugo couldn't muster a response. The tendrils around his hips and thighs forced a few half assed curses and poorly held back giggles from him. He arched his back, huffing when they pressed into the soft spaces inward next to his hips, ticklishly stroking down between his thighs. Oh shit.

“Agghh staha- Mmmhh. No mohore.” He murmured. His once silky ash blonde hair was now dark and matted, sticking to his eyes and head. “I-I— God, I fffucking can’t- I can’t d-do this shit anymore.” His body sizzled with heightened sensitivity. Even the breeze across his fucking feet tickled.

 Deku looked at him for a moment before shaking his head slowly. “The game isn’t over yet.”

The tendrils found a ticklish tendon underneath and inward along his ass and inner thigh, and pressed into it. Bakugo barked out a surprised laugh and squirmed weakly.

Deku was silent as he teased that spot, longer than the pro hero thought he could tolerate. 

“One more spot,” Deku announced, pushing his tendrils down over his thighs, creeping over the back of his ticklish knees, lingering there for a moment before tickling toward his calves. “Then round two starts.”

The tendrils slowly slithered down this calves, forcing him to half groan, half whine and bite his cheek. When they grazed over his Achilles heal and brushed down around the sides of his feet, Bakugo felt a surge of adrenaline course through him, energy he pointlessly wasted by yelling a stream of obscenities and fighting hard as he could. He’d never felt more helpless, he’d never been so tortured, he’d never felt as if he could be reduced to begging, but here he was, those sinful words dancing at the tip of his tongue, tempting him like food tempts a starved man. 

All from tickling.

Blackwhip paused and Bakugo knew it was over. His fatigue caught up moments before and he stared at Deku with wide pleading eyes. Deku drank that up like a craved cigarette. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Well, almost.

“Wait! Deku, wai-”

The rest of his plea fizzled and died on his lips.

He felt it everywhere and nowhere. Tendrils raced over and under his flailing toes, some scratched right underneath and along the stems and pads, more circled and scratched the balls of his feet, playing with the plump, overly sensitive pads. Additional ones scratched just at the creases underneath the balls, which at this point hadn’t been touched and absolutely drove him up the metaphorical wall of madness and hysteria. Others stroked up and down and side to side, playing along his creamy arches, paying special attention to the spot where the heel melts into the arch, while more circled and teased his heels. Two tickled and scratched along the sides of each foot, a few, Bakugo couldn't count, even tickled the tops of his feet along with some slowly stroked up and down this claves and two stragglers unfairly burrowing into the back of his knees.

Bakugo couldn't comprehend anything except how much it fucking tickled.

His mouth was wide open in a silent scream, his eyes squeezed shut, saturated with mirthful tears. When additional tendrils started stroking and alternating between the arches and balls of his feet, a switch flipped in him. He started bouncing up and down, moving the bench slightly as he tried to lift and drop his weight, trying to use pure strength to break it or at least flip it over. Aside from a few cracks and creaks, it was silent as he wasted precious, limited energy.

More at the top and sides. Extra in between the toes. Something evil goosed his ribs.

That was all he couldn't handle.

“NOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHO! NONONONAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUUUUUCK! AHA AHAHA! AHAHHAHAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!YOU STUPID FUCKING PIECE OF MOTHERFUCKINGSHIT ILL FUCKING KIHIHIHIHLL YOUDEAAAAD! MMMGGHGHHMHMHMHMMMAAAAAH!! GOD! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!”

Pure, tortured belly laughter bellowed out of him like a fog horn. His laughter only evolved, turning pained and high pitched when the thing on his cock started vibrating.

“NOOO!”

The tendrils along his feet started slowing, sensually rubbing and tickling his toes. Electricity flitted through his dick, standing to attention within seconds.

Curses temporarily overwhelmed his laughter when Blackwhip wrapped around and pulled his toes back. The sweat coating Bakugo’s body created enough slip for the tendrils to wreak absolute havoc just along the undersides and stems of his toes, where the sensitive skin had been pulled and crueley exposed. Bakugo thrashed and screamed and spat and heaved, but nothing stopped it. Nothing topped it.

This time, Deku didn't edge, didn't relent, and didn't change the pace. Either Bakugo was going to cum like this, or he wasn't.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHESE! AHAHAHA! OOHGADDAMNITPLEEHEHESE!!”

“What are you begging for?” Deku inquired. Bakugo couldn't care that he was being mocked, couldn’t even take the few seconds of brain power to register or understand it.

“AAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH ST- AHAHAHA! MA-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCKFUCKFUCK I CAAAAA————”

Silence. Deku furrowed his brows and leaned forward, cupping a hand to his ear. “Hmm?”

“——————PAHA- PH- PLEHE- PLEHEHEHESE! WAHAHAH- WAIHIHIHT! NAHAHA I- I GOHOHAHAH! MMMMMMHHHHHFFFFFAAAGGHHHHH!!!”

The tickling hardly slowed as stars blurred his vision. A loud, animalistic moan burned his raw throat. He came hard, the tendrils slipping and sliding gleefully inside the wet toy.

Even after he was done, it continued for a few more seconds, prompting a loud continuous scream from him that only relented a few moments after everything truly stopped.

He collapsed, breathing so hard and deep that his chest ached.

He only knew one thing; He couldn't fucking handle this anymore.

Deku slow clapped and whistled. “Bet you never thought you could be tickled into an orgasm.”

Bakugo didn't respond, he hardly heard him. He flinched hard when the tendrils teasingly retracted from his reddened and raw feet, traveling up his trembling body once again.

Bakugo moaned. “N-no… Please…Just … please just stop.” 

Deku shook his head and beamed. “The game isn’t over yet.”

Bakugo shook his head, entirely defeated. “No more.”

Deku eyes glittered, the emerald hue glowing as though the devil himself had possessed the soul behind them. “Remember,” Tendrils slithered up to his aching ribs. Bakugo gritted his teeth and pulled his arms. Deku’s eyes crinkled. “You cant cum in the same spot twice.”

Tendrils slipped under his arms, waving and stroking like wheat in the wind.

A noise, almost like a disgruntled whine slipped out of Bakugo. “Please. Deku, please just fucking stop this.”

More tendrils. Bakugo inhaled sharply. “I-I know what I di-did wahas fucked a-”

“Is that all it took?” Deku murmured, voice low. “Hours of tickle torture for you to realize that?”

“No!” Bakugo winced as tendrils spilled down his ribs. “Damn it! I’ve known, you fucktard! I- Fuck! I just- SHIHIT! Just- FUCK! Let me goddam taHAHAlk!”

“No.” Deku put a hand up, silencing the quivering blonde. “It might come as a shock to you, but I haven’t thought about what happened in a long time.”

Tracing along the heels of his feet. Bakugo cringed.

“I’ve wanted this for a while. To torture you, and make you beg.” Tendrils slipped into the hollows behind his knees. “To make you answer for each and every horrible thing you did to me, down to every dirty look.” Tendrils teased up his spine again, causing him to lurch forward as much as he could. “I wanted to break you and make you pay. I still do.” Tendrils ghosted down his arms, teasing the skin under his biceps. “Maybe one day, I’ll let you explain it to me. But right now,” Deku stood, straightening his back. All the tendrils lifted themselves from his body, pointing their tips over their respective spots.

“It turns out, I don’t give a shit.” 

Tendrils burrowed into his underarms. As if he were being repeatedly tased with a stun gun, he convulsed and seized, immediately dissolving into loud, unrestrained guffaws. His entire being was now just a big ball of overly sensitized, ticklish nerves to which Blackwhip took full advantage of. It dug, scratched, wiggled, pinched and squeezed all over his body, the main event  taking place in his armpits. He fell into silent laughter once, twice, three times within the span of a few minutes.

He couldn't fight when the toy started vibrating, when he felt more of Blackwhip dip into the sleeve of the toy, when the tendrils ghosting and tickling his thighs pinched and traced along his ass, and when tendrils teased the newfound egregious zones on his feet. He gave in to the torture, unable to protest when the freedom he had no chance of earning burned out of him for the fourth time.

Everything stopped. His head fell in misery. 

Then snapped back up.

He felt it in his armpits, ribs, thighs, groin, feet, knees, calves, arms- everywhere. 

Every spot Deku had learned was put to merciless use. 

Bakugo’s screams echoed throughout the room, down the hall, and drifted outside, haunting the grounds like loitering ghosts.

He didn't know how long it took for him to finally pass out.

—

His eyes groggily flitted open.

It took a few minutes for his vision to fully come back to him. It took even longer for him to remember where he was. Eyes locked on the water damaged ceiling, his head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. When his brain started to catch up with his body, he felt it. 

Holy shit, he ached. 

His throat felt chipped and raw, his head pounded hard at the side of his temples, his fucking ribs and stomach…

He groaned and pushed himself up, stomach muscles screaming as he held his head in his hand. One glance around the room and one more zap from his aching body confirmed that what happened to him wasn’t just a fucked up nightmare.

Catching a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye, he turned his attention to the flimsy nightstand next to his bed. Three bottles of water were placed onto it, along with some dark steaming, floral smelling liquid inside of a beige mug with a spoon sticking out of it. In front of that was a bottle of Advil, a sandwich on a small, circular paper plate, and an envelope. All neatly placed together.

Any reservations he’d possessed about eating and drinking had been thwarted long ago, so he downed the first bottle in seconds as well as half of the second before deciding to swallow three Advils along with the rest. He placed the third bottle underneath the mattress and observed the contents of the mug, deciding it was tea. He took a tentative sip, sighing when the hot liquid velveted down his sore throat, soothing it and warming his stomach. A hint of ginger left a subtle, spicy tang and he could have sworn he tasted a bit of honey. He ate his sandwich as he sipped.

He didn't want to think about who left all of this stuff here for him, much less why. As far as he knew, everyone in this fucking place had access to his room and everyone was a damn scumbag for it.

His gaze turned to the envelope. He finished the tea, pulled the lip open, and pulled out something small and rectangular, wrapped in white tissue paper. 

He tore the paper off and his stomach dropped.

“K-Kacchan? Wait, Kacchan! No! STOP! PLEASE!”

It was old and worn. It looked exactly like his.

“PLEASE!”

It was Deku’s All Might trading card.

[snarkylinda]

Sad bitch though of the day: whenever he graduated, was Spencer always alone?

We know he graduated HS at 12 years old, in Las Vegas, so Diana might had been able to go. And that is a huge might, because by this point her state was bad enough to not notice her son wasn't in the house all day in a bad day (Elephant's Memory backstory)

Now his first PDh was on California, when he was around 14- no mention of any College friend, and hell there is the little "she lived there for size months and didn't made any friends? Though that only happened to me." Joke that yeah- anyways I doubt his mom got to be there since it was in fucking California, so it's not a stretch to say he was on his own here.

We don't know when he got his other titles- but it's safe to say that at least one happened after he institutelate her, yikes, and I like to think that Gideon was in one of them at least.

Point is- imagine this: you are collecting titles like they are pokemon, sure being a Genious™ gives you a heads up that literally nobody else around has on the academic side but as it has been shown over, and over, and over again Spencer's intellect is strictly linked to his mental state; if he feels pressured enough he might see something that nobody else sees- or be completely unable to focus (*points to Zugwang, the most in your face example since he actually states it to the camera*) high school must had been a breeze at the academic department, but it was also when he was the most targeted (again he studied with fucking sociopaths), so....yeah, being a Genious is the only reason why this kid managed to do that with that environment.

Then college- Spencer is a little vindictive bitch so if he was ever mistreated in college we would had known about it almost instantly so it's safe to assume it was chill, if a bit lonely. And I mean in college most people don't care enough to fuck you up on the same way high schoolers do so it's fitting- but he was still a 14 years old, in another state. Mature enough to care for himself? Sure -it's not like he had any other option tbh- but he was still a fucking 14yo in an adult space, no wonder he knows how to keep a fucking anxiety attack at check. So obviously, going through all of this, Genious or not, must had been hard af.

College is hell. I dropped out of my first career and cried all night, we as humans tend to have this need of validation over our accomplishments hence why graduation is so idolized, we want to feel good about the years of our lives we lost to get there, with our closer family members cheering at us...

Now I want you to picture someone that is not even an adult, not friends in the class, no one at the crown cheering for them- maybe a teacher could cheer them up? But that is as far as it comes, as they just...look at the title they earned while dealing with some shit™, maybe a reporter or something want to interview them because what they did was awesome and their teachers puff their chest with pride over having taught such a prodege... and then they look in the way the other students are taking photos with their loved ones and talking about going to dinner to celebrate....

That, but 6 times.

[xbluue-jayyx]

Hey bluejay! I saw your WIP ask game and i REALLY wanna know abt Light of Kyoshi :3 seems very interesting and the title is genious and please tell me everything

hey!!! so light of kyoshi is essentially just immediately post-SoK (like, starts with kyoshi following the fox out of the woods). it was initially inspired by "leave the horror here" by @foibles-fables (if you haven't read that you definitely should it's excellent)

i haven't been working on it much lately but it's definitely still on my radar! it's also the first thing i've written since high school so it might be a lil messy

[dangara2610]

(5/10) Varian attending a USA's high school - Part C

Varian got treated like a genius child

I don't really remember what my investigation told me, but according to some tv shows I saw when I was kid:

He gets the chance to change from classroom, moving to a more stimulating one.

He would had been offered some sponsors (but now that you all know about my BH6 AU crossover, you all know is Krei Tech the sponsor from the beginning, so any other offering is rejected)

He gets advertisement from cool side activities, themed parks and expositions, all of them science related, and of course he will spare some time to visit them.

For this particular history, I was thinking about how he can be a genius of engineery and chemistry, plastic arts and music, but not of History, so, he would keep studying history with the non-genious friends he did, and so he would with arts, because he doesn't what any special focus on those.

He wouldn't fully skip grades because of his friends

But mostly, because in cannon he gets softly betrayed until getting strongly betrayed... Yes , in future chapters I'll redact how those friendships ended and he finally skipped grades until getting to colleague xP x'D.

Thankies for reading 🫐🌻🌺🍊🍇🌱🍦🚖🍁🍊🌾🚁🍁

[opercot]

THE CULT OF MAKUTA MORTRAX

Hello again to y'all, first, happy holydays to all of you, second, i finally have some new stuff to show here (well, "new stuff" for some :v), i flesh out more one of the factions of a story of Bionicle i'm writting. Without further stuff to say, hope y'all like them

Starting from the bottom of their ranks, to the big boss, we have:

FOLLOWER OF MORTRAX

First of, we have the normal follower of Mortrax. They only saw that the only way to survive in the island that Mortrax controls, it's to be with them, but that can vary to follower to another. A friend help me out with their color squeme long time ago.

MODULAR ANDROID

Second in the chain, goes with the Modular Android. Created by Mortrax are fully mechanical,and it can change it's configuration, to their lower parts, to it's armament. I made almost all robots normal lego bricks, to make it more of a difference to a Bionicle, i felt that it would be easer to see the difference.

DRONE MC 82-99

Another of the creations of Mortrax, is the Drone MC 82-99, that can detach all of it's armament to fly at high speeds. It was based in the VF-19 from Macross Plus, and a MQ-9A Reaper Britanic drone. The name comes from the musician "MACROSS 82-99" that my friend told me.

MECHA-CULTIST

One of the more curious henchmen of Mortrax, is the Mecha-Cultist, that it's more of a cyborg version of a cultist (you can see their brain in the back of it). It's based on Robo-Cain from Robocop 2.

RAHK-VA COMBO

Other one it's the Combo of a Rahkshi, with a Vahki, mostly it's use by Mortrax when they feel that something it's going a bit out of hand in a territory. This was made before, because i like the color yellow, but i saw i could fit it a bit in the story.

MAKUTA MORTRAX

At last, Makuta Mortrax, the ruler of one of the islands. They prefer to use more of a beastly from. Uses their mechanical genious, instead of Rahkshi and powers. The true is, they one of the weaker Makuta, but compared to a Matoran, they are crazy strong, so they have an iron grip in the island. Based on Fenrakk, and has more of a figure of a weird dog and cat.

.Well, that would be all for the moment, i hope i can get more Bionicles in the future, my uni and work were really heavy, but i'm done with them for the moment, so i have a bit of a free time. Hope y'all have a great year, adn see you next time.

As a bonus, ima trow one of my first mocs i did in my life. I remember doing it in 2022 i think, really early for me, i think i improved a lot in a short time :v

Well, see ya later y'all

[chaosisdying]

would anyone be interested in getting to know my ocs?

(I'm kinda scared of sharing them for some reason but I also have nobody to talk to about them sooo...)

I'll give some context about them ???

my ocs are all kinda in a limbo of being only designs or having a bit of story but also they're not well developed jdjsjd

but my most developed (and favourite) is this one:

disclaimer: I may have written a... bit more than I planned to💀 also english is not my first language so if there's some funky grammar that's because I didn't study enough LMAO

main characters names:

Rhys (nonbinary, they/them), 20

Asher (male, he/him), 38 or 40 idk

it's a story about a... human dragon bunny chimera(???) in a world where dragons are well hidden and considered almost extinct by humans. humans, being humans, decided to make a yearly hunt for dragons/dragon eggs (sometimes they are abandoned/lost by dragons), and with the dragons they get, they research them and make experiments with them. since dragons are known for their longevity humans wanted to study them and make something in order to make humans and other species live longer. long story short, all of these research and experiments led to makjng chimeras.

in my story's current time, chimeras are still being researched and experimented on, since they're still new, and the first ones are born either deformed or disabled. most of these chimeras are deemed "useless" and they're used for exploitation. they do work for humans, often working especially for the chimera facilities. this work they do, it's usually hard work. chimeras that could breathe fire were usually the first ones to die, because their throat and lungs got easily damaged (they were too young to do such work, they were not ready to breathe fire because their body was still frail and underdeveloped).

dragon and gorilla chimeras, considered the strongest, were put to do exhausting work, they worked all the time and they never rested.

you get the idea,,

ok so what's our main character doing in all of this?

at the start of the story, they're like 6 and were already put to work. being a bunny chimera, they could jump really high, but I still have to figure out what they could do lmao,, anyway

their name is Rhys (very original I know) and they usually have a human form, but they can transform into a bunny dragon hybrid too.

they were born with just a wing, so the scientists working with them decided to go into the painful process of removing the useless wings they were born with, which lead to a lot of pain and infections (they weren't advanced with... chimera medicine)

ok this is the part where things don't make sense💀

so one day there's this big man named Asher that happens to take a stroll near the chimera facility Rhys works in, and Asher sees them. he sees how they struggle and their pain. Rhys is just a small child, they shouldn't do that.

so Asher (a genious) decides to basically kidnap Rhys and take them away from that hellish place.

things become difficult and basically Asher becomes a criminal so Rhys and he have to hide all the time until they find a place thsy can live in.

then the story focuses on Rhys and Asher's relationship and how Rhys begins opening up to him. this takes a lot of time, Rhys starts trusting Asher after 2 years of the kidnapping and they don't even let him touch them because they're terrified of being touched (because of the wing removal and the mistreatment received from the scientists). but eventually they get a very very close bond and Asher basically declares himself Rhys's dad lmao,, Rhys lets Asher touch them only when necessary, like when treating the wing wound or wounds in general. also idk the occasional familial hug 😔 man

after the trust arc, we focus on Rhys and Asher's contrasting views of the world and their own dreams. while Rhys desires peace and quiet the most, a relaxed life spent on fishing and reading books, ignoring the ugly shit that happens in the world, Asher desires to change the world and free all of the exploited chimeras and stop all of the suffering they had to endure. Asher is even ready to "adopt" as many chimeras he can to givr them a better life.

they completely disagree over this and a big fight happens

ok after this I literally have no idea of what happens, but I already have an idea of a last arc(??) where Rhys witnesses Asher's death (he gets old and rhys lives a lot more than him, perks to be a dragon chimera I guess) and needs to learn how to live by themself and to manage grief.

idk tell me what you think about this? any tips? are you interested in seeing Asher and Rhys's designs? uhh let me know,,

[emojireviewpage]

Shooting star emoji review: an special episode.

Apple: smooth trail and a superb decision to include a picture frame. The background is a yellow star utopia. This picture could belong to a lavish fairytale house with a good view of life and challenges. Happiness-inducing not too realistic star but I still love this example. Is it going through a cloud or is just the big shine of the curious twinkle star? 9/10

Google: Gets the indigo elegance right. It’s like hyacinth, vivid and mollifier. The meteoroid is sorrounded by sparkly stars and blue-ish wonders. Is the trail a crystal structure and maybe this is artificial? 6/10

Samsung: good-looking starry emoji and the meteoroid has a big white gleam exposing! Its smoothly detailed border makes this look like an app icon. You could edit it to make it an icon! The stars are a little translucent, but they look cool! The trail is fading out leaving a beautifully colored golden treasure. 8/10

Microsoft: artless, dumb-looking star with an absolutely big spotlight. not even a single tear of love and passion was put into this. no good stars, where’s the magic? Is the purple background the only magical thing about this? 2/10

WhatsApp: What a grandiose night and starry sky with a aesthetically pleasing gradient that it makes it look like it’s coming to some unknown city! The colors harmonize flawlessly with a subtlety detailed color palette which makes the viewer think this is an enchanting bliss! The big Apple’s sibling! 10/10

Twitter: it’s literally day period in this emoji. Are you seriously going to scare people with your shameful morality? Insufficient effort and love. This star has got some serious thoughts, it makes me think “I can’t know what thoughts it has because I can’t ask to it” it is also a star I guess. 1/10

Facebook: Coin-like star and we can distinguish the smoothly detailed lines on the trail! Comparable to saturn’s rings. The shine illuminates the starry night leaving a nice memory. 9/10

Skype: A genious idea to make the star sharpen and the trail having some nice detail that matches the simplicity of this emoji. Sadly, we miss the sky. The sky is an important part of this emoji in my opinion. Looks lonely, you can travel peacefully. 3/10

Twitter emoji stickers: This is comparable to the greatness of the Magellanic cloud nebulas. This shooting star is one of the cutest things I have ever seen in my life. The detail is superb. It deserves to pass through the big-old mountains. The stars are so soft and white, the light pollution forbids this emoji to show more stars though, what a shame. The border with the exquisite detail with an amazing choice of colors. 10/10 add more stars and it 1000/10.

Joypixels: joyfull colorful stars with the main star having a lovely shape! Sadly, the travel is not the thing I wanted exactly as it looks solid. The subtle gradient of the sky gives this an effective look. 6.5/10

TossFace: sorry, I can’t say anything good about this except the fact that it looks just kind of cute. That does not mean this bare-bones disgrace is going to get a high rating. 1/10

Openmoji: I can say that… it looks like a doddle I often make in the middle of school time. How menacing. -10/10

Emojidex: Gets the awesome idea of making the star look 3d. Does not scream beautifulness and power. Just a poor little shooting star with copy-pasted trail. The colours are just a NO. 3/10

LG: Snowy pastel vibes in this soft little shooting star. Milky-colored wonders like this make my heart melt. The sky is calmingly colored and effective. 6.5/10

Thank you all! 💟 This is a review I put a lot of effort in.

“We are made of starstuff” Carl Sagan.

[jgnico]

AAAAAAA I LOVE YOUR HEAD CANONS IN THE TAGGS. i'm literarely wheezing. I showed my friends the tags, they dont care but i was dying of laughter. THE CROPTOP AHHAHAHAHA thats canon!!!! And gojo floating??? He's literarely high ahahahahah

Genious

Thank you for sharing

Glad you liked them! Your art style is very nice and I'm always a sucker for sss, so I couldnt resist adding a bunch 💙

[the---hermit]

jumbo reading challenge update #3

This post has been sitting in my drafts for months. I have procrastinated posting this update for so long. I still have no plans for the rest of the challenge and I am trying to fit in the books I am reading randomly, so I have no idea if I will complete the challenge by the end of the year. I surely didn't expect to be 75% done with it in the first half of the year. Here are the links to my first and second updates on this challenge.

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon for the high fantasy prompt:

I don't know where I got the courage to approach a 800 page book, but I am surely happy I did. This is one of the best books I read this year. Challenging my fear of big books is teaching me how immersive they can be, and how special the reading experience becomes. This fantasy book in particular is very well made, I would even recommend it to people who don't read a lot of epic fantasy. I cannot wait for the sequel to be translated so that I can get it (I know I could get it anyway but I want matching editions).

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman for the main character of color prompt:

This was the last unread book in my Gaiman bookshelf (which means I have to look for the books my collection is still missing). For some reason I procrastinated reading this book for years. I am happy I finally picked it up, but it was definitely not my favourite novel by this author. I was expecting something along the lines of American Gods, which is not the case. It's an entertaining novel, but I prefer darker fantasy.

Daisy Darker by Alice Feeney for the horror or thriller prompt:

I listened to the audiobook for this novel, which was made pretty well. It's a story inspired by And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, which is one of my all time favourite novels. I was a bit scheptical at first, but it wasn't as bad as I feared. After reading it I was a bit confused over my feeling for this novel, especially for the big twist at the end. It's now been a while and I can say that although the audiobook was very entertaining and well paced, I am not a big fan of the ending. I see what the author was trying to do, and I am prersonally not a fan. But it wasn't that bad.

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton for the minimalistic cover prompt:

This book was surprisingly fun. While reading it I was a bit frustrated with a couple of things that felt very stupid, but to be honest after finishing it it made sense. It's one of those lighthearted adventurous books that needed a couple of silly things to work and it's fine. As I said it was really fun. I feel like it would be a great pick for a summer read, so much so that I am considering reading the sequel this summer.

Through The Woods by Emily Carroll for the clever cover prompt:

This was a rererad for me. I got this book last year and loved it, and since in the past month or so I have been in a big graphic novel rereading mood this felt perfect. I picked it for this prompt because the longer you look at the cover the more you notice some hidden detail. The art in this book is amazing, and it's overall one of my favourite graphic novels I own, it's the perfect gothic horror with fairytale vibes, I couldn't ask for more.

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe for the non-binary author:

I am so happy to have this in my graphic novel collection. It's a very special addition, it was very insightful and emotional, and I know for a fact that I will be rereading this book more than once. I very much recommend picking this up. I felt like it did a great job at giving an idea of what it's like to question your sexuality and gender, how complicated and scary it can be, but also how joyful it is.

She Who Became The Sun by Shelley Parker Chan for the pun in the title prompt:

When I realized there was a pun in this book title my brain expoded. It's genious. The story of a girl who takes the identity of her brother to claim his destiny, becoming "the son", I loved it. I loved all characters. There's a light fantasy element that I hope will see more of in the sequel. Overall it's a very well done and engaging historical fantasy, and the gender in this is amazing. There's very interesting parallels, really strong characters that completment each other, it was a great read that I will be recommending a lot.

The House In The Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune for the water in the title prompt:

This book has been often described as part of the cozy fantasy genre, and honestly it's a great way to describe it. I really enjoyed my time with this book, it was the perfect lighthearted read I needed.

The individual book reviews are linked in the titles above as usual.

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 5

Hello there readers. This is the new chapter, I hope you'll like it. It's a tiiny bit long though. I warned you.

Note: Violence, blood, injuries etc.

Ps: I won't be coming with a new chapter for a while because my best friend has a bachelorette party tomorrow, but I start writing the new chapter at Monday. Thanks for your patience.

Knowing I am in direct disagreement with General Melgren’s orders, I am officially objecting to the plan set forth in today’s briefing. It is not this general’s opinion that the children of the rebellion’s leaders should be forced to witness their parents’ executions. No child should watch their parent put to death.

– The Tyrrish Rebellion, an official brief for King Tauri by General Sorrengail

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief” Professor Devera says from the recessed floor of the enermous lecture hall later in the morning, a bright purple Flame Section patch on her shoulder matching her short hair perfectly. This is the only class held in the circular, tiered room that curves the entire end of the academic hall and one of only two rooms in the citadel capable of fitting every cadet. Every creaky wooden seat is full, and the senior third-years are standing against the walls behind us, but we all fit.

It’s a far cry from history last hour, where there were only three squads of first-years, but at least the first-years in our squad are all seated together. Now if I could only remember all their names.

Liam is easy to remember – he was the first who talked to me after Parapet. Somehow we became friends. But if I want to be honest, I don’t mind. He’s really kind and somehow I feel that I can trust him. It’s strange. My father always told me not to trust anyone. And despite my hatred for him, this sentence become one of the pillars which hold my life.

“In the past, riders have seldom been called into service before graduation” Professor Devera continues her mouth tensing as she paces slowly in front of a twenty-foot-high map of the Continent mounted to the back wall that’s intricately labeled with our defensive outposts along our borders. Dozens of mage lights illuminate the space, more than making up for the lack of windows and reflecting off the longsword she keeps strapped to her back.

“And if they were, they were always third-years who’d spent time shadowing forward wings, but we expect you to graduate with the full knowledge of what we’re up against. It’s not about just knowing where every wing is stationed, either.” She takes her time, making eye contact with every first-year she sees. The rank on her shoulder says captain, but I know she’ll be a major before she leaves her rotation teaching here, given the medals pinned on her chest. “You need to understand the politics of our enemies, the strategies of defending our outposts from constant attack, and have a thorough knowledge of both recent and current battles. If you cannot grasp these basic topics, then you have no business on the back of a dragon.” She arches a black brow a few shades darker than her deep-brown skin.

“No pressure” I mutter laughingly to Liam.

“The most powerful general in Navarre is your father. I think you can manage this class somehow.” He snorts.

“Hey. I’m not a genious, you know.” I whisper.

“And even humble.” He openly laughs at me. “You know all the answers in history. But I don’t think it counts if you only told me and not the teacher when he asked questions.”

“I don’t care what they think of me.” I say in a serious tone.

“This is the only class you will have every day, because it’s the only class that will matter if you’re called into service early.” Professor Devera’s gaze sweeps from left to the right and pauses on me. Her eyes flare wide for a heartbeat, but she gives an approving smile and nod before she do the same with Violet. “Because this class is taught every day and relies on the most current information, you will also answer to Professor Markham, who deserves nothing but your utmost respect.”

She waves the scribe forward, and he moves to stand next to her, the cream color of his uniform contrasting with her stark black one. He leans in when she whispers something to him, and his thick eyebrows fly high as he whips his head in my direction then he looks at Violet.

“Shit.” I mutter as I slide lower on the chair. “Why can’t I be invisible?

“You’re stand out a little bit to that.” Liam answer helpfully. “Maybe if you didn’t dye your hair, you didn’t stand out as much. I mean those silver stripes are a little bit flashy.”

“I didn’t dye my hair. It’s been like this since I was born” I answer while staring straight ahead of me. I don’t like to talk about my mother. I didn’t know her but it’s still painful beacuse of the many what ifs. What if I knew her? Would she loved me? If she were alive would I have a normal family? It’s painful.

“Oh, I see.” And he didn’t push the subject any further as if he sensed that I’m not comfortable with it.

“It is the duty of the scribes not only to study and master the past but to relay and record the present” Professor Markham says, rubbing the bridge of his bulbous nose. “Without accurate depictions of our front lines, reliable information with which to make strategic decisions, and - most importantly - veracious details to document our history for the good of future generations, we’re doomed, not only as a kingdom but as a society.”

“First topic of the day,” Professor Devera moves toward the map and flicks her hand, bringing a mage light directly over the eastern border with the Poromiel province of Braevick. “The Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and riders.”

Oh shit. A murmur rips through the hall.

“Naturally, some information is redacted for security purposes, but what we can tell you is that the wards faltered along the top of the Esben Mountains.” Professor Devera pulls her hands apart and the light expands, illuminating the mountains that form our border with Braevick. “Allowing the drift not only to enter Navarrian territory but for their riders to channel and wield sometime around midnight.”

My stomach sinks as a murmur rises from the cadets, especially the first-years. Dragons aren’t the only animals capable of channeling powers to their riders. Gryphons from Poromiel also share that ability, but dragons are the only ones capable of powering the wards that make all other magic but their own impossible within our borders. They’re the reason Navarre’s borders are somewhat circular - their power radiates from the Vale and can only extend so far, even with squads stationed at every outpost. Without those wards, we’re fucked. It would be open season on Navarrian villages when the raiding parties from Poromiel inevitably descend. Those greedy assholes are never content with the resources they have. They always want ours, too, and until they learn to be content with our trade agreements, we have no chance of ending conscription in Navarre. No chance of experiencing peace.

But if we’re not on high alert, then they must have gotten the wards rewoven, or at least stabilized.

“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before the squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons managed to repel the drift.” Professor Devera finishes, folding her arms over her chest. “Based on that information, what questions would you ask?” She holds up a finger. “ I only want answers from first-years to start.”

My initial question would be why the hell the wards faltered, but it’s not like they’re going to answer a question like that in a room full of cadets with zero security clearance.

I study the map. The Esben Mountain Range is the highest along our eastern border with Braevick, making it the least likely place for an attack, especially since gryphons don’t tolerate altitude nearly as well as dragons, probably due to the fact they’re half-lion, half-eagle and can’t handle the thinner air at higher altitudes.

There’s a reason we’ve been able to fend off every major assault on our territory for the last six hundred years, and we’ve successfully defended our land in this never-ending four-hundred-year-long war. Our abilities, both lesser and signet, are superior because our dragons can channel more power than gryphons. So why attack in the mountain range?

“The only logical explanation is that they were looking for something.” I mutter to Liam.

“Are you not going to speak up in this class either?” He asks.

“Nope.”

“Come on, first-years, show me you have more than just good balance. Show me you have the critical-thinking skills to be here.” Professor Devera demands. “It’s more important than ever that you’re ready for what’s beyond our borders.”

“Is this the first time the wards have faltered?” a first-year a couple of rows ahead asks.

Professors Devera and Markham share a look before she turns toward the cadet. “No.”

The room falls pin-drop quiet.

It’s not the first time.

Which means they were looking for something for a while? Interesting.

The girl clears her throat. “And how… often are they faltering?”

Professor Markham’s shrewd eyes narrow on her. “That’s above your pay grade, cadet.” He turns his attention to our section. “Next relevant question to the attack we’re discussing?”

“How many casualties did the wing suffer?” A first-year down the row to my right asks.

“One injured dragon. One dead rider.”

Another murmur rises from the hall. Surviving graduation doesn’t mean we’ll survive service. Most riders die before retirement age, especially at the rate riders have been falling over the last two years.

“Why would you ask that particular question?” Professor Devera asks the cadet.

“To know how many reinforcements they’ll need” he answers.

Professor Devera nods, turning toward the meekest first-year in Violet’s squad, who has his hand up, but he lowers it quickly, scrunching his dark eyebrows. “Did you want to ask a question?”

“Yes.” He nods, sending a few locks of black hair into his eyes, then shakes his head. “No. Never mind.”

“So decisive” another first-year in that squad  mocks from next to him, tilting her head as cadets laugh around them. A corner of her mouth tilts up into a smirk, and she flips her long brown hair over her shoulder in a move that’s anything but casual.

“He’s in our squad. Show some loyalty.” A third woman chastises.

“What a friendly squad. They like a big family.” I whisper to Liam.

“You’re not friendlier then them, you know.” He smirks at me.

“Maybe.” I cross my arms and turn my attention back to the class.

“If Fourth Wing is done picking at one another?” Professor Devera asks, lifting a brow.

“What altitude is the village at?” Rhiannon asks. I’m sure it was Violet’s question. She doesn’t like the attention.

Professor Devera’s eyebrows rise as she turns to Rhiannon. “Markham?”

“A little less than ten thousand feet.” he answers. “Why?”

Rhiannon darts a dose of side-eye at Violet and clears her throat. “Just seems a little high for a planned attack with gryphons.”

“It is a little high for a planned attack” Devera says. “Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail? And maybe you’d like to ask your own questions from here on out.” She levels a stare on her

Every head in the room turns to her direction. If anyone had an inkling of doubt about who is she, it’s long gone now.

Poor Violet.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to channel” She says. “ It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew the wards would fail, especially since the village looks to be about what…an hour’s flight from the nearest outpost?” She glances at the map. “That is Chakir right there isn’t it?”

Scribe’s training for the win.

“It is.” A corner of Professor Devera’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Keep going with that line of thought.”

“Didn’t you say it took an hour for the squad of riders to arrive?” Her gaze narrows.

“I did.”

“Then they were already on their way,” she blurts, immediately recognizing how silly that sounds. Her cheeks heat as a mumble of laughter sounds around her.

“Yeah, because that makes sense.” Jack turns around in his seat from the front row and openly laught at her. “General Melgren knows the outcome of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn’t now when it will happen, dumbass.”

I feel the chuckling of our classmates reverberate in my bones. I can feel my rage rising.

“Fuck off, Barlowe,” Rhiannon snaps.

“I’m not the one who thinks precognition is a thing,” he retorts with a sneer. “Gods help us if that one ever gets on the back of a dragon.” Another round of laughter has her face flaming more.

Enough!

“You’re so familiar with General Melgren that you know exactly what he’s able to do with his signet Barlowe?” I glare at him. “With you’re level of brain, be thankful if a dragon will choose you at Threshing, if you can make it there. It’s way above your skills to get to know the General.”

“Pff, the same goes for you girl.” Someone shouts behind me.

I glance behind me to look at that stupid man who said that. I found him. He wears a first-year emblem on his jacket, and looks like he’s in Violet’s squad.

“He’s my father, you jackass.” I glare at him.

“He doesn’t have a daughter, you liar.” He retorts.

That’s it. He’s even dumber than I thought. It’s a shame to argue with him.

“And they try to become riders. Without the knowledge what’s going around them. I pray that at least a handful of cadets be smarter than them or Navarre is lost.” I sigh in mock sympathy while I turn back. “Maybe General Melgren’s signet isn’t able to identify the when, but if you can’t understand what Cadet Sorrengail implies, then you won’t make it Threshing. I gurantee that.” I smile at Jack while my implied threat still in the air.

“That’s enough. You should know that listening to other cadet’s questions is just as important as asking.” Professor Devera says to Jack. “And Cadet Melgren you should work out that temper in the gym.”

“Oh I can’t wait the challenges Professor.” I answer while glaring daggers at Jack.

“Why do you think that way, Violet -“ Professor Markham winces. “Cadet Sorrengail?”

Nice distraction.

“Because there’s no logical way they get there within an hour of the attack unless they were already on their way” Go, Violet tell them. “It would take at least half that long to light the beacons in the range and call for help, and no full squad is sitting around just waiting to be needed. More than half those riders would have been asleep, which means they were already on their way.”

“And why would they already be on their way?” Professor Devera prods, and the light in her eyes tells me she’s right.

“Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking.” She lifts her chin

“That’s the most-“ Jack starts.

“She’s right” Professor Devera interrupts, and a hush falls over the room. “One of the dragons in the wing sensed the faltering ward, and the wing flew. Had they not, the casualties would have been far higher and the destruction of the village much worse.”

I snicker at Jack who looks completly baffled.

“Second- and third-years, take over” Professor Devera orders. “Let’s see if you can be a little more respectful to your fellow cadets.” She arches a brow at Jack as questions begin to fire off from the riders behind us.

How many riders were deployed to the site?

What killed the lone fatality?

How long did it take to clear the village of the gryphons?

Were any left alive for questioning?

I write down the important questions and answers, my mind memorizing the facts, organizing into logical sequences.

“How can you make notes when you don’t even look at the paper in front of you?” Liam wonders

“Years of practice.” I cut it short.

“What was the condition of the village?” A deep voice asks from the back of the lecture hall.

The hairs on my neck rise, my body recognizing the imminent threat behind me.

“Riorson?” Markham asks, shielding his eyes from the mage lights as he looks toward the top of the hall.

“The village.” Xaden restates. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

Professor Devera smiles in approval. “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

“They were looking for something,” Xaden says with complete conviction. “And it wasn’t riches. That’s not a gem mining district. Which begs the question, what do we have that they want so badly?”

„Wow. You said that they were searching for something too.” Liam stares at me with surprise.

„Yeah, so? It was obvious.” I blink at him.

„No. It was not. You really have a sense for it, haven’t you?” he whispers.

I just shrug, then turn back my attention to the class.

“Exactly. That’s the question.” Professor Devera glances around the room. “And that right there is why Riorson is a wingleader. You need more than strength and courage to be a good rider.”

“So what’s the answer?” a first-year to the left asks.

“We don’t know,” Professor Devera answers with a shrug. “It’s just another piece in the puzzle of why our constant bids for peace are rejected by the kingdom of Poromiel. What were they looking for? Why that village? Were they responsible for the collapse of the ward, or was it already faltering? Tomorrow, next week, next month, there will be another attack, and maybe we’ll get another clue. Go to history if you’re looking for answers. Those wars have already been dissected and examined. Battle Brief is for fluid situations. In this class, we want you to learn which questions to ask so all of you have a chance at coming home alive.” Something in her tone tells me it’s not just third-years who might be called into service this year.

After class the cadets started to flow out from the lecture hall. I packed up my things and when I turned to Liam, Professor Devera said my name.

„Cadet Melgren. For a word.”

„I think you’re in trouble.” Whispres Liam. „I’ll wait for you outside.”

I nod then turn toward the Professor.

„Yes?” I ask.

„General Melgren sent a message that he wants to speak to you after today’s classes are over.” She answers

„Understood. Where?” I ask tensly.

„In his office.”

„Then if there is nothing else, I would like to go. I have gym.”

„Yes, go ahead.” She dismisses me.

Outside of the hall I see Liam talking with Xaden at the corner of the courtyard.

That’s my luck. I have one somewhat of a friend and he’s just coincidentally a big buddy of Xaden it seems.

They must realised that I finished talking with Professor Devera beacuse they make their way to where I stand.

„Is everything all right?” Liam asks worriedly when they aprroached me.

„Yeah, she just wanted to pass on a message.” I shrug.

„A message? From who?” Xaden asks suspiciously.

„It’s not your business Riorson, but is seems that General Melgren wants to see me after classes are over.” I say with a forced smile.

„General Melgren?” He raise an eyebrow.

„You’ve got a problem with that?” I narrow my eyes at him.

„No, it’s just interesting.” He says. „But I think you don’t have time to chat with me. If I remember correctly you have gym class soon, and Professor Emetterio doesn’t like latecomers.”

„Shit. Then we should go Liam. I really don’t want to be late because of Riorson.” I fake a horrified expresson.

„Ah, and I thought we could converse once without your insults.” He smirks.

„In your dream Riorson. If you don’t like my style then you would be doing a favor for the both of us if you would avoid me in the future.” I say while grabbing Liam’s arm and start pulling him in the direction where the gym class will be.

„Then we will definitely see each other later.” He stares at me with an unreadable expression. „I almost forget. Have fun in the gym, Sunshine.” I hear him laughing.

When I try to turn around, this time Liam grabs my arm and pulles away faster.

„We need to hurry if we don’t want to end up late.” He drags me with him.

---

„You seriosuly knew every answer in histroy and apparently every right question to ask in Battle Brief.” I hear Rhiannon says it to Violet. Coincidentally their squad are standing behind our sparring mat. „You’re not even going to have to study for tests, are you?”

There are already two first-years on the mat from our squad. They’re evenly matched in size. One of them is Ethan whom I have seen talking to Liam. He has a rebellion relic too. I don’t remember his opponent’s name but I’m sure he’s a little less irritating than the others in our squad.

„You seem pretty calm. Are you not worried about who your opponent will be?” Liam watches me with interest shining in his eyes.

„No. I’m sure that I can beat most first-years. Quite a few have developed muscles if you look them closely. You’re one of them so I’m curious how well you can fight.” I look over him.

„Maybe we will be paired up.” He winks at me.

„Yeah. Who knows?” I shrug, and the vest Mira made us shimmers slightly with the movement. Other than the times the scales catch the light under the camouflaging mesh, it fits right in with the tops we’d been given from central issue yesterday. All the women are dressed similarly now, though the cuts of their leathers are chosen by preference.

The guys are mostly shirtless because they think shirts give their opponent something to grab onto. Personally, I’m not arguing with their logic, just enjoying the view…respectfully, of course, which means keeping my eyes on my own squad’s mat and off the other twenty mats in the massive gym that consumes the first floor of the academic wing. One wall is made entirely of windows and doors, all left open to let in the breeze, but it’s still stiflingly hot. Sweat trickles down my spine under my vest.

There are three squads from each wing here this afternoon, and lucky me, First Wing has sent their third squads, which include Jack Barlowe, who’s been glaring at me from two mats over since I walked in.

„Stop circling each other like you’re dance partners and attack!” Professor Emetterio orders from across the mat, where Theo watches Ethan and the other guy’s match – maybe his name is Lucas? Or Luke? Something like that – with our squad executive leader, Zanaya.

Ethan launches toward Lucas – I think I will go with this name until someone tells me his name – but he ducks, sweeping out his leg and tripping Ethan. He staggers but doesn’t go down. He pivots quickly, palming a dagger in his hand.

„No blade today!” Professor Emetterio bellows from beside the mat. He’s only the fourth professor I’ve met, but he’s definitely the most intimidating. „We’re just assessing!”

Ethan grumbles and sheaths his knife just in time to deflect a right hook from Lucas.

„What about you? You don’t seem worried either.” I ask Liam as Ethan lands a jab to Lucas’s ribs.

„Shit!” He shakes his head and backs up a step. „I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lucas holds his ribs but lifts his chin. „Who said you hurt me?”

„Pulling your punches does him a disservice” Theo says, folding his arms. „The Cygnis on the northeast border aren’t going to give him any quarter if he falls from his dragon behind enemy lines, Ethan. They’ll kill him just the same.”

„Let’s go!” Lucas shouts, beckoning Ethan by curling his fingers. It’s obvious he had a proper trainig before entering the quadrant, when he slips a jab from Ethan and twists to land a quick jab to his stomach.

Ouch.

„I’m pretty good on the mat. My foster brother whom I grew up with taught me many things.” He answers while watching the match.

„You have a brother? I didn’t know.” I look at him.

„He’s not my brother by blood, we grew up together after the apostasy and that made us close friends. That’s why I said he’s my brother.” He shrugs. „Now watch the match.”

Apostasy is the Tyrrish term for rebellion. I rarely heard it mentioned this way.

That’s when Ethan charges Lucas taking him to the mat with enough force to make me observe him more. He’s surprisingly strong for his light build.

Lucas hooks his legs around Ethan and somehow leverages him over until he’s the one on top, landing punch after punch to the side of his face. Blood spatters the mat.

A tooth goes flying. Ouch.

„Enough!” Professor Emetterio shouts.

Lucas rolls off Ethan and stands, touching his fingers to his split lip and examining the blood, then offers his hand to help Ethan up.

He takes it.

„Zanaya, take Lucas to the healers. No reason to lose a tooth during assessment” Emetterio orders.

A couple of mats over, someone shrieks, and we all turn to look. Jack Barlowe has another first-year in a headlock. The other guy is smaller, thinner than Jack, but still has a good fifty pounds on me.

Jack yanks his arms, his hands still secure around the other man’s head.

„That guy is such an ass-„ Rhiannon starts behind us.

The sickening crack of bones breaking sounds across the gym, and the first-year goes limp in Jack’s hold.

“Sweet Malek,” I whisper as Jack drops the man to the ground. I’m starting to wonder if the god of death lives here for how often his name must be invoked.

“What did I say?” their instructor shouts as he charges onto the mat. “You broke his damned neck!”

“How was I supposed to know his neck was that weak?” Jack argues.

“Eyes forward,” Emetterio orders, but his tone is kinder than it has been as we all look away from the dead first-year. “You don’t have to get used to it,” he tells us. “But you do have to function through it. You and you.” He points to Liam and another first-year in our squad, a man with a stocky build, black hair, and angular features. Shit, I can’t remember his name. Trevor? Thomas, maybe? There are too many new people to remember who is who at this point.

Liam makes quick work of the first-year, stunning me every time he dodges a punch and lands one of his own. He’s fast, and his hits are powerful, the kind of lethal combination that will set him apart.

„Do you yield?” he asks the first-year guy when he takes him to his back, his hand stopped mid-hit just above his throat.

“No!” he shouts, hooking his legs around Liam’s and slamming him to his back. But he rolls and quickly gains his feet before putting the first-year in the same position again, this time with his boot to his neck.

“I don’t know, Thomas, you might want to yield,” Theo says with a grin. “He’s handing you your ass.”

Ah, that’s right. Thomas.

“Fuck off!” Thomas snaps, but Liam presses his boot into his throat, garbling the last word. He turns a mottled shade of red.

Yeah, Thomas has more ego than common sense.

“He yields,” Emetterio calls out, and Liam steps back, offering his hand.

Thomas takes it.

„You-” Emetterio points to one of the second-years with a rebellion relic. „And you.” His fingers swings to me.

He’s at least a head taller than me, and if the rest of his body is as toned as his arms, then I can’t let him to touch me. I need to be faster.

I nod and step onto the mat.

„You’ve got this.” Liam says, tapping my shoulder as he passes me.

„Melgren.” The man looks me over like I’m something he’s scraped off the side of his boot, narrowing his pale green eyes. „You really should dye your hair if you don’t want to stand out like this. Soon, everybody will know who is your father.”

„Never said I cared if everyone knows who my father is.” I circle the second-year on he mat.

I say while trying to distract him. General Melgren often says the minutes you let emotion enter a fight, you’ve already lost.

„You bitch” he sheethes. „Your father murdered my family.”

He lunges forward and swings wildly, and I quickly sidestep, spinning then landing a hard punch where his kidneys are located.

He grunts then turns around and we start it again. We do this for a few more rounds, and I land a few punches here and there. Always moving faster than him.

After another punch he stumbles and I kick his leg out from under him and I pin his legs down so he can’t move. That’s it when he manages to land a punch.

I can feel my head snapping to the side, my ears ringing, but I don’t move. I’ve endured worse. If I move now then he can use his legs and I will be in trouble.

I punch him in the face. When he raises his hands to protect it, he leaves defensless his neck. I hit the side of his neck causing him to be momentarily unable to breathe and he puts his hand to his neck, then I punch him in his face, and I can feel the bones breaking. I broke his nose. I hit again.

He starts coughing while his blood is dripping from his nose. He can’t do anything in this condition.

„He yields.” Emetterio calls out, and I back off from him. „Hey you” he points to another second-year „Escort him to the healers. We don’t need him bleeding all over the mat.”

I step next to Liam and a new match starts.

„Gods, Aelin. You were really scary on the mat.” Liam says looking at me. „And your face, are you all right? Want me to accompany you to the healers?”

„I won’t go the healers, Liam. I’m fine.” I look at him confused.

„What? No way. You’re bruse is already turning black. That must have hurt.” He looks at my face with concern.

„A little bit. It’s not that bad, really. I have much worse bruises when I started to train.” I try to calm him.

His eyes widen and opens his mouth to further question me when…

„Yield, Violet!” I hear Dain yells.

What? Violet? I turn around quickly and I see Violet and a pink-haired second-year on the mat. With a rebellion relic. Shit.

„She yields.” their instructor says. „That’s enough.” I hear it again – the macabre sound of snapping bone – but this time it’s hers.

[simgiggles]

New sims on the Gallery

Stefanie "Steffi" Reese, Young Adult Self-Care specialist aspiration, Goofball, Geek & Loves the outdoors.

Skin: Nothern Siberian Winds Face Maske soft rose B Eyes: Nothern Siberian Winds Eye nr 27 Lips Fruit Juice lipstick by 4w25-cc (TSR) Eyebrows: Remussirion 18 Hair: Wing sims Lashes: Dreamgirl Lipstick Fruit Juice Lipstic 4W25-cc Blush: Nothern Siberian Winds blush nr 4 Eyeliner: Strangelove eyeliner Praline

Sliders(& potential presets): Obscurus sims

Gallery ID: SImgiggles

Finn Seaville, Teen Nerd Brain Aspiration. Outgoing & genious Trait.

Skin: Nothern Siberian Winds, Face mask, West skin Hair: Wing Sims Eyes: Nothern Siberian Winds Eye nr 27 Eyebrows: Remussirion 18 Blush: GoppolsMe blush CC05 Eyelashes Kijiko (every single one of my males sims got these) Mouth corners: Nata n03 mouth corners Praline Dimples: Dimples N04 Praline

All presets & Sliders: Obscurus

Gallery ID: SImgiggles

Liam Seaville, Young Adult Master Chef aspiration. Geek, Genius & Romantic Trait.

Skin: Nothern Siberian Winds, Face mask, South skin Hair: Wing Sims Eyes: i dont know, sorry. Eyebags: Tamo Hairline: Hairline nr 1, Obscurus Nosemask: Nr 4 Remussirion Eyelashes Kijiko (every single one of my males sims got these) Eyebrows: Seleng Eyebroes N39 Blush: GoppolsMe blush CC02 Eyeliner: M Liner cc2 GoppolsMe Earrings: Loco Plugs Praline

All presets & Sliders: Obscurus

Gallery ID: SImgiggles

Rosalia Walsh, Teen Friend of the world, Goofball, Genius

Skin: Honey skinblend Skin 2(body): Tender skin f Praline Skin overlay 3: Remussirion nr 16 (i dont know either at this point) Hairline: Hairline nr 1, Obscurus Hair: Wing Sims Kijiko remove eyelashes Eyes: Dont know, yet Eyelashes: Dreamgirl Hairband: Syaovu

Fruit Juice Lipstic 4W25-cc (Seems to be the only one i use atm, haha) Eyeliner: Retro Eyeliner Praline n 73 All presets & Sliders: Obscurus Gallery ID: SImgiggles

A few photos from their High School years <3

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Wake up!

I haven't been this happy pulling a Leo 3* card since his swimsuit one XD

After this amazing discovery ofc I had to write a fic around it, it's my two favorites boys after all 💖

Plus I've been wanting to write Leo for a while, just didn't know what, until now hehe~

Also I wrote this while tipsy so uhh yeah- XD

___________________________________________

Leo x Natsume (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Leo

Ler: Natsume

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

Today, Nazuna was moving into the dorms with Natsume and Leo, but there was a teensy 'lil problem, the room was a complete mess. Having a magician and a crazed- I mean, genious composer living in the same room is definitely cause of a chaotic mess. But Natsume and Leo had agreed to clean it up prior to Nii-chan's arrival.

Natsume had already gotten started on tidying up his things, but Leo was still fast asleep in his side of the room, which caused him to feel annoyed.

He walked over to his roommates sleeping frame "Mr. Knight is sleeping like a baby... Wake up! Don't tell me you forgot our promise". Natsume lightly shook him by his stomach, causing Leo to softly giggle in his sleep.

"Wahaha...! Don't tickle me, you fuzzy hair..." he mumbled out through his sleep.

"Fuzzy hair...? Does he think I'm Tsumugi?" Natsume tskd in annoyance, now opting to scribble at his belly in a playful manner as if he were scratching a dog's belly. "C'mon, get up already".

"Ahahaha! N-nohoho..." Leo giggled hysterically, curling in on himself, which only trapped Natsume's hand in the tickle spot. The magician rolled his eyes but couldn't help smile a bit at his rommate's cute reactions.

"Guess I'll have to resort to drastic measures...~" Natsume grinned mischeviously as he stopped scratching at Leo's belly, watching the ginger male relaxing once more in his bed. The redhead pulled up Leo's shirt and leaned his head down, sucking in as much air and blowing a raspberry right over his roommate's navel.

"AHH-! WAHAHAHA!" Leo screeched through his hysterical laughter, his eyes shooting wide open as he tried pushing off Natsume's head away. "I'M UP! I'M UHUHUP!".

Natsume lifted his head up for a moment, a teasy smirk on his lips "Hmm... I'm not convinced yet~". He went back down and blew multiple raspberries all over Leo's belly.

"GYAH!! NAHAHAHAO! S-STAHAHAP!" Leo threw his head back in laughter, squeezing his eyes fully shut. His face became as red as a tomato, his laughter reaching all kinds of high pitches. Once Leo started gasping for breath did Natsume let up.

"Mornin'~ Now, let's get to cleaning, Nii-chan is moving in with us today" Natsume went on and about as if nothing had happened while Leo remained lifeless on bed, catching his breath from the ruthless tickling. "Hm?? Do I need to convince you some more?~" Natsume smirked as he playfully wiggled his fingers towards him.

"Eek-! Nohoho! I'm uhup!" the ginger couldn't help but giggle at the sheer threat, quickly springing out of bed to help put their dorm in shape for Nii-chan's arrival.

___________________________________________

I might end up doing a sequel 'cause brainrot hehehe~

[contentloadingandstuff]

So there is a fairly high chance I won't describe every character I imagined for this AU. Seeing as this is the case, I decided to make this post, containing names, basic gameplay info and some general lore about the OCs. Everything here is not set in stone, and is subject to change.

Slave of The Wasp: Sakurai Denki [5*, Sword, Necro, Tall Male] - a native of Inazuma and the last survivor of the Sakurai family. His traumatic experiences gave him exceptional Necro resistance, resulting in him being the only living Necro vision bearer. One of the most prominent and skilled assassins in Beleth's army.

Right Hand of Qablu: Aldehan Adler [5*, Sword, Necro, Tall Undead] - a general from Mondstadt who fell in a fratricidal battle between his army and the royal guard of the Lawrence clan. He is one of the most powerful liches and necromancers, having led his skeletons to victory countless times.

Eternal Pursuer of Unholy Knowledge: The Watcher [4*, Catalyst, Cryo, Tall Undead] - a mysterious liche, guarding the library of Sunqu, the Standard Bearer of Plague. He spends his time in the Timeless Void, researching whatever piques his interest. The Watcher doesn't value human life, housing a deep distain for it.

Master Artician of Destruction: Felix Waltz [4*, Spear, Geo, Medium Undead] - a genious, but unappreciated Fontaine inventor. His research of explosives used by Ruin Guards turned him into an outlaw, leading up to his death. He gained recognition as the Artillery Marshall of Beleth's army. His cannons and mortars wreak havoc amongst opponents of the Liche Lord.

Bearer of Plague: Sunqu [5*, Catalyst, Necro/Dendro, Tall Undead] - the Herald of Plague. One of the Standard Bearers. He is the oldest and wisest of them, his knowledge rivaling that of the Dendro Archon herself. He grew bored of his collegues, and so Sunqu traverses Teyvat personally, tormenting everyone and everything for his own amusement.

Bearer of War: Qablu - the mighty Herald of War.

Bearer of Hunger: Ubuttu - the insectoid Herald of Hunger.

Bearer of Fear: Sibtu - the unimaginable Herald of Fear.

Bearer of Sadness: Sapal Libbi - the wailing Herald of Sadness.

Bearer of Hatered: Zerutu - the twisted Herald of Hate.

Bearer of Pain: Adaru - the merciless Herald of Pain.

Favored Son of Death: Beleth (Arfill) - an independant part of Father Death, he has been tasked with appreciating Teyvat in His name. After the destruction of his pet nation, Khaenri'ah, he pursued one goal, by any means nessecary - to establish the order his senior imagined for the world.

The Spirit of Lisha - the legendary Queen of Spirits and a champion of Sapal Libbi. Her name was lost to time, and as such, she took on the one of her home realm.

Mother Life: Ti - one of the two Creators. Born of life's desire to become something greater, she ignited the first spark of creation. Her wish for existance to develop in its own way, she withdrew from interacting with the world.

Father Death: Ush - one of the two Creators. He is the opposite of Ti, being the void filling the world. His creation of Necro forced life to develop further, giving birth to the world and its many wonders. Unable to accept Ti's idleness, he commanded Beleth to establish his own design in Teyvat.

Thanks for reading!

[cockworkangels]

is still think that fear the walking dead going with the plot where a serial killer releases nuclear missiles to destroy texas and somehow everyone survives in the radioactive wasteland in the most unrealistic ways possible is the most genious thing they've ever done. it was high art to me