#so you know. that sucks since that animated feature that came out was even less my bag

[timeisacephalopod]

On one hand I would love to watch Wednesday, but I've watched reviews and even before that the trailers for it told me it was Addams Family themed Riverdale and that's exactly what the reviews said too 🥹🥹🥹

[skzstoryvault]

Let Me Love You (Felix, spicy and angsty)

Just a little something I wrote while sick in bed. Story features Felix and afab reader The angst comes from reader's own bitter expectations One-shot If this is not yout thing, please scroll away. If you're underage, this is definitely not for you. Please scroll away. ***

“Wow you shouldn’t have.” Felix says, the moment he sees the cake on your kitchen table. His hands are already snaking around your waist, pulling you close. “I’ve had sugar flung my way since the day began. I was hoping for some other kind of sweet-” He interrupts himself, leaning down to suck a gentle nibble into the skin of your neck. “-treat from you.” 

You still wonder what he sees in you or when he’s going to dump you, replace you with a newer, more attractive model. He is so loved, so powerful in that way; he can have anyone. He would only need to say one word and even someone like Hyunjin would crawl on his knees before him. But Felix keeps seeking you out. Coming to your house at night, sometimes staying the whole weekend. Fixing minor things, helping you, cooking for you. Maybe it’s the fantasy for him. Of being an ordinary man, not an idol. A man, not an androgynous angel of desire or the keeper of everyone’s affections. But the fantasy only has power because it’s fleeting. No man dreams of having less power. 

When his lips find yours, his Romand Juicy Glasting Tint smears and transfers to your mouth. He always tastes clean, neutral, like taking a deep breath outside in the summer rain. It makes you doubt he’s really human. But he kisses like a god, and the gods of legends do have a habit of coming down as rain or beautiful animals to seduce unsuspecting ingenues. That tracks perfectly, the more you think of it - except you never get to, whenever Felix is around you can’t string two thoughts together. 

When you’re alone again and clarity strikes, you feel vulnerable and under siege. But when he’s with you, the spell he weaves is potent and thick like the 3D reality.

When you’re with him, your only reason for existing is to receive his love, in whatever flavour he deems you deserving of that day. It’s like he gauges his power by the way you fall apart beneath him, by how strong and uncontrollable the shivers of your body get, by how lost and inhuman your sounds of pleasure and abandon get. 

Before he set his eyes on you, you were certain you were over dick and the headaches it came with from the men attached to it. But Felix is not other men, and his pull on you is irresistible precisely because it is unique in its manifestation. Now, your small items of clothing fall away as though he wills them out of existence and he takes you in as many ways as it takes him to feel satisfied with your offerings. He knows the exact ways to curl his fingers to bring you to fountain-like, gushing orgasms that alter the cadence of your heartbeats. He measures how gone you are with his lips on your ankle, on a pulse point he can feel there, beating against his tongue. He can see it in the spasms of your leg and ab muscles, in the way your toes curl, beyond your conscious control. 

“I need you, baby. I need you to be good and take it, alright my sweetest?” He whispers in his dark, low as the pits of hell voice. Even at just that, your core tightens like the string on a bow, taut and ready and quivering with tension but not wanting to snap yet. He commands your body effortlessly with you as a mere passenger in it. 

You lose track of time and the world around you when his plump lips close around your straining clit. His fingers spread and smooth out the flesh around, exposing every idle nerve ending to his touches. It’s so mind-blowingly good, he eats you out like he really means to leave no crumbs, and you black out and come back several times before he deems you ready. Your bones have softened to mere cartilage, the contours of solid shapes only. By the time he removes his jeans and underwear and crawls between your open legs, he can plaster himself against you so closely you can’t tell where you end and where he starts. Tears run down your cheeks when he enters you, sealing you perfectly shut around him; the tears are not of pain, but overwhelm at the simple, yet unbearably intense pleasure of being perfectly filled, made whole for a fleeting, perfect moment. He doesn’t even need to prop himself up. His hands seek out yours and your fingers entwine on either side of your head. Even if he doesn’t move at all, you’ll still pass out from how unbearably flawless this feeling is; how connected he makes you feel - as though thoughts and feelings can truly pass between you unrestrained. 

He does move, wanting to witness your ruin and know that it is by his doing, over and over until your world is reduced to only him and your lips can only say his name. How does the song go? All gods bleed. All gods die. All gods will pay. You could love him unrestrainedly. You could feel like a girlfriend to him, a deserving, equal mate if he were not an idol. If the image of him that millions around the world see and worship were any less effective. You don’t want to be by-catch in the net of his allure. A footnote in a memoir written by a ghostwriter for him. So you remain a willing prisoner of this nightmare reality where he is the monster coming to feed off of whatever sweetness draws him to you for this quick moment in time. 

It never crosses your mind that the only one dishonest here is you; the only one cheating the other out of the joy of the here and now is also you. And in the process, you rob yourself of the very future you burn for. But Felix’s sweet tooth for you might just be stronger than your bitterness. 

[legionofpotatoes]

curious if you have seen (and if so what are your thoughts on) across the spider-verse what with it being such a love letter to illo/animation?

I have... a complicated relationship with that movie

Here are my thoughts on it straight out the cinema. It was all very heat-of-the-moment and I softened up a fair bit up since then, but I still have the same fundamental gripes with its story sense and tenacious excess in visual fidelity.

I know how dumb it sounds but it feels how it feels to me. Like watching it felt like playing a triple-A videogame. It was less intentional artistry and more kitchen sink clutter that had crunch written all over it. Definitely partially a me-problem but also the reports that followed kinda confirmed those suspicions and that sucked?

I know feature animation in hollywood pretty much universally sucks for every ground-level artist involved rn, but I definitely became privy to too much concrete bs to keep viewing this specific project as something championing the medium. The incessant fiddling from lord and miller, the firings and uncredited workers, the fact that much of their visual identity stems from alberto mielgo's work whom I just cannot stand. A lot of this is personal, and I can't ignore that.

But beyond all of my baggage, objectively speaking, I did love everything in the film that had to do with Gwen. Art direction included. That was a real flex both in audio-visual cues and a strong, dramatic character arc. But everything else felt like a mess. I said it before but walking out of this movie confused and bummed out was the first telltale sign for me, whereas ITSV left me elated and humming with joy. And it felt intentional. Question is, why?

And it's all tied up in taste and tone of course and I'm not here to police anyone's preferences in dramatic clarity or storytelling styles. But this type of half-a-movie that is all setups and cliffhangers pointing excitedly at a nebulous sequel is not my cup of tea at all. And I guess knowing how messy it was behind the scenes simply exacerbated that feeling.

ITSV had so much catharsis. So much progression of drama and payoff and big, sweeping moments that were visual, musical, and meaningful on a story level all at once. It was pure storytelling. ATSV had good stuff for Gwen, but otherwise was mostly just. Plot, it felt like. One thing after another and after another, leading to this weird, confusing, emotional rugpull of an ending that certainly had. Spice to it, but I wouldn't call it fulfilling.

Multiverse stuff is weird, right? but ITSV used that as just another tool in its storytelling bag. The other spiders came in with satellite arcs and enriched Miles' story in a very organic way. A story about fear and great expectations, executed to a T, ending with a triumph. Yet here we see ATSV using the multiverse as an entire framing device that its story optics are now beholden to. It feels wrong, somehow, and makes it harder to parse what all of this is about.

Bringing the concept of canon into the text, creating a story about storytelling itself, is always very very very tricky and difficult to pull off, and often even meaningless writ large. It makes the story they're telling here infinitely less interesting to me. and hey, I am curious to see what they do with Beyond, I'm not pretending to know more than I do here. I welcome being wrong! But it is what it is for now.

Thankfully Nimona came out soon after and was beautiful and elegant and meaningful and wholesome in all the ways I love, to the point that I decided everything was going to be okay after all :D Anyway I hope this answers your question and sorry I get so wordy!!!

[sabakos]

what did deconstruction mean when you said it then?

I mean the French literary criticism thing: I was trying to look for a quick summary of it but apparently even Derrida, who invented the concept, had trouble describing exactly what it is succinctly. So I'll just steal Richard Rorty's quote from wikipedia because it's roughly what I mean, "the term 'deconstruction' refers ...to the way in which the 'accidental' features of a text can be seen as betraying, subverting, its purportedly 'essential' message."

Applied to NGE, I would interpret "deconstruction" how I'm using it being the fact that the anime is more about how it sucks to pilot the robot than it is about piloting the robot, to the point where it's not even really about piloting a robot anymore. You could switch out the fighting robots for something else and the whole thing would basically be the same, it's really more of a psychodrama that takes place on the stage of a fighting robot anime. In a way it's (sort of) like some fanfiction, in that it's playing with tropes it expects its audience to already be familiar with and not taking time to fully develop them. NGE wouldn't work if Gundam wasn't popular, or if people who hadn't watched Gundam weren't at least somewhat familiar with what a "fighting robot anime" is.

Whereas Gundam itself is an anime within the genre NGE is deconstructing, about characters who pilot a robot. Which... yeah, piloting a robot sometimes sucks, since the characters are humans who have to act in normal human ways the audience can relate to. And I'm sure there are even some Gundam series where they critically analyze over the course of the plot just how much it sucks to pilot a robot. But probably not ones where people like that twitter guy would go "I don't understand what I'm watching, what even is this?" because the essential features, a plot about fighting robots saving the world, is still comprehensible, there's just an added "accidental" human element. If twitter guy wants to mindlessly zone out during all of the critical analysis and not think about how much being a pilot sucks, he still gets what he's looking for (flashy smashy robot saves the world) with Gundam. But he doesn't get that with a deconstruction of Gundam, because the essential features of the genre that's he's expecting have been removed, even though on the surface it still looks the same.

I don't think NGE is making fun of all Gundam fans though, or all MCU fans. Just the ones who don't notice the "accidental" features of the medium that it's highlighting. I don't even think it's really making fun of anybody intentionally, really. It just sort of happens as a result of some people not "getting it" (i.e. hey, being a child forced into the military would suck even if you get to pilot a cool robot!) with the original work.I admit that I haven't actually watched more than a few clips of Gundam, so if there is a Gundam series that's also like this and deconstructs the genre in the same way NGE does, I'd believe it. Especially if it came out after NGE did, as an homage or copycat.

But it's also not necessarily an insult to the genre that someone was able to deconstruct it; I'm pretty sure Hideki Anno likes fighting robots! I'd guess, not knowing all the lore behind the development of NGE myself, that NGE was originally "for" the people who liked anime like Gundam and understood all of those accidental features that Hideki Anno highlighted within Gundam, and wanted more of that and less mindless flashy smashy robots. But that's also definitely not every gundam fan, or "get in the fucking robot shinji" wouldn't be a meme.

[taetaespeaches]

“Are you sure you want to take a nap right now, Dear?”

jimin x reader (oc) genre: smut; fluff word count: 3.5K

a/n: hi lovelies!! This is a week late but I hope you all enjoy it. Jimin is just full of surprises and very much in love with Dear/reader. And the feeling is mututal. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

Arriving at your empty apartment after a long day and knowing Jimin would not be joining you later that night was, well, shitty. Everything was so quiet. Dragging your feet to your bedroom with a huff, you eyed the plush bear sitting on the bed.

Jimin had given you the stuffed animal early on in your relationship and it served as a decent cuddle buddy during your boyfriend’s long tours. But it wasn’t Jimin.

Tours were never easy, especially for you and Jimin. A history of insecurities following you both had riddled your minds with doubt in the past, even leading to a temporary separation. However, this tour, though difficult and lonely as always, you both felt more secure.

Communication was consistent between you, allowing you both to address any fears or anxieties as they happened. Though he was miles and miles away, he felt close. You could breathe this time around.

But fuck, you missed your boyfriend.

Stepping out of your work clothes, you slipped on one of Jimin’s t-shirts. It was losing his scent, but if you focused enough, you could still smell the man on the clothing. Walking to the bed, you tapped on the phone screen to check the time. 5:34 pm. Pouting, you mentally counted the hours until your scheduled facetime call with the man would commence. What were you meantd to do with the remaining three hours and twenty-sex minutes?

The group’s tour was coming to a close soon- just a couple more weeks. He was in Japan before the last week of shows started, filming a few things in the meantime. At least with him being just on the other side of the Sea of Japan you were existing under the same position of the sun. Time zones get confusing when he’s traveling nonstop.

Lying across the bed, you held your phone out in front of you as you went to shoot your boyfriend a text.

You: You better be taking care of yourself, my love. I’m gonna take a nap, I’ll text when I wake up. I love you. Can’t wait to see your face in a bit!

Locking the phone, you set it aside on the comforter, grabbing the little bear to cuddle up next to as you tried to get comfy. Definitely not Jimin, you thought. You weren’t sure if you would get any sleep, but it would pass the time. As the end of tour neared, the days became longer.

Absentmindedly, your eyes closed as you tried to lose yourself in slumber, you spun the promise ring that was situated on your finger. It was just a simple piece of jewelry, but its presence on your body served as a reminder of the promise you and Jimin made to each other.

A promise to wait for one another when he was away; a promise that feelings would never lessen through the distance; a promise to trust each other and the relationship, to communicate, to not lose a fight with personal insecurities. A promise that he would always return home. Home to you.

As you opened your eyes to look at the ring, spotting the little PJM engraved on it, a light smile graced your features. Your relationship with Jimin had always been complicated, ever since the start. The obvious attraction was pushed aside for two whole years as you tried to find yourself so you could be your best, for you and for him. But he waited. He cherished your friendship instead, giving you the best of him every single day.

It was hard not to allow the few months you had difficulties as a couple to taint the entire union. Both of you, dealing with your own insecurities, had been pulling away because you thought that was what the other person wanted, only to later find out you both wanted to be closer. Always responding to each other but never communicating. Tours were scary. It had brought out the worst in you both before, but you refused to let it happen again. As he was away, you would always be there waiting for him. Just as he had waited for you years earlier.

You found that physical distance was much easier to combat than emotional distance. You could handle the miles, because you knew he was never really very far. And he’d always return home.

Lost in memories of your relationship, appreciating every challenge as they got you to this point of security, you were suddenly ripped from your thoughts by unexpected disruptions coming from your front door. There was no knocking, but it sounded as though the barrier had been breached.

Heart racing, you sat up in the bed, listening as quiet footsteps approached the bedroom. Reaching for your phone, you prepared to dial for help when suddenly your name was called out, just before the door opened to reveal him. Stunning as ever, smiling brightly, tired eyes only adding to his cuddly presentation, slim fitting sweatpants hugging his legs as the top half was shrouded in a baggy sweatshirt.

“Jimin,” you breathed out, tears instantly filling your eyes.

“Are you sure you want to take a nap right now, Dear?” He teased, that mischievous grin greeting your orbs as a smile curved on your lips.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked him in disbelief as you leaped off the bed, Jimin rushing to you with open arms, both of your smiles bright, expressing nothing but pure love and joy. Your bodies crashed into each other less than gracefully, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as his own secured around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him.

The first thing to hit your senses was the feel of him. The man buried his face in your hair as you nuzzled yours against his neck, the warmth of him filling you with comfort. You could feel his heart beating through his chest, melting into the pulses of your own. It was amazing how much a person could feel like home. The second was his scent. The one that was fading on the very shirt you wore. The fragrance, so distinctly Jimin, could make you cry if you focused on it for too long.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered in relief. Relief to have you back in his arms, to not be oceans or continents away. Tightening your grip around him, you didn’t respond, not trusting your voice as tears dropped onto the clothing covering his shoulder.

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that in your bedroom, holding onto each other for the first time in months, simply feeling one another’s physical existence. You missed existing with him. The weight of the ring was pale in comparison to having him in your arms, his body joined with yours.

Eventually, you pulled away just enough to be able to bring your hands to the sides of his face, holding him there so you could appreciate his features up close.

“Oh, Dear, don’t cry,” he cooed, his mouth forming into that smile you adored so much.

“But I missed you too,” you finally replied, a light breathy laugh leaving your lips at his chuckle that left his pretty lips and greeted your ears. And just like that, those pretty lips were on yours, kissing you needily, passionately, wantingly. The meeting was hot, burning almost. It was controlled but fervent in how his lips caressed your own, the man trying to express every bit of emotion he felt for you through the action.

His hands slid under the bottom of your shirt, his shirt, the man smirking against your mouth.

“Is this mine?” He teased, you smiling as you shook your head at his sudden cockiness.  

“Shut up,” you told him, reattaching your mouth to his, his tongue instantly meeting with yours. You relished in the taste of him. No promise ring or facetime call could ever fully take the place of the reality of this man. When his hands folded over the hem of the top adorning your frame, you instantly raised your arms above your head, allowing him to pull it from your body needily, his lips only leaving yours long enough to tug the clothing over your head. His hands slid up the exposed skin of your sides, reaching the curves of your breasts, the man sucking in a breath of air at their bareness.

Lightly clamping your teeth on the plumpness of his bottom lip as he pulled away, your eyes met his dark ones as his tongue ran over his lip. Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at your chest, a smirk curving on his mouth as you returned the expression with a warm smile.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a whisper, you chuckling as you ran a hand through his soft hair at the back of his head. “Always fucking braless,” he lightheartedly complained as though your tendency to exist in a free state caused him such anguish. Giggling at him, he smiled lovingly.

Within an instant, he was pressing hot kisses to your collarbones, working his way to your chest. Arching your back, you pressed your chest toward him, the man greedily taking one of your nipples into his mouth. At the moan that left your lips, he began backing you up towards the bed, pushing you onto it as soon as your legs met the edge of the mattress.

Looking up at him, you watched as he pulled the sweatshirt from his body, fluffing his hair, making him look both adorably disheveled and sexily undone. Next came his pants, the man wasting no time in removing his clothing so he could finally be with you.

As he removed his underwear, you eyed his body appreciatively, drinking in every inch of skin upon him. Every muscle, every pore, every blemish, every bit of flesh, you craved for it. You wanted him.

Jimin quickly grabbed a condom from the bedside table drawer, smiling when he saw they were exactly as he left them. It had been too long. Turning to face you, he let out a breath of disbelief as you slid your own panties down your legs. Reaching for him, your hand gripped the bare skin of his upper thigh, tugging for him to meet you on the bed. However, the man resisted, instead dropping to his knees as he began placing sweet, gentle kisses to your knees, trailing them along the insides of your thighs.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched him near your center with hooded eyes that stared your body down.

“Chim,” you breathed out as he left a chaste kiss to you.

“Shh,” he smirked. “Let me love you the way I’ve been craving.”

The words elicited a moan from you as you dropped your back to the bed, allowing him to show you just how much he missed you.

Jimin was very attentive. So in tune with your body, he read each moan and gesture from you like it was a manual, responding to each reaction perfectly as he programmed it all into his mind to bring you the utmost pleasure. With his skills, along with the fact that you hadn’t been touched by him in months, it didn’t take long for you to come crashing into your first orgasm, the man shooting you a stunning smile as he crawled up your body, an aura of pride enveloping him, making him all the more sexy.

“I would say don’t get cocky but you’ve earned it,” you joked and complimented through your breathlessness, just before Jimin’s lips greeted yours once again, the comment causing him to smile into the kiss.

“I really missed you,” he mumbled against your mouth, you pouting at the confession, your hands squeezing at his hips.

“Don’t leave again,” you teasingly begged, Jimin smiling almost bashfully while he sat up on his knees to situate the condom onto himself. Lowering his frame to yours once again, he kissed your nose sweetly, a soft smile gracing your features as you looked into his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he admitted just before pecking your lips. “So much.”

“I love you,” you told him as he guided himself into you, your arms gripping onto his back as he stilled for a moment, allowing himself to get used to the overwhelming feeling of you before moving. “So so much,” you damn near whimpered, your lips just barely brushing against his.

The man brushed the hair out of your face just before he kissed you hungrily, caging your body between his arms as he began dragging his hips, hitting deep within you and eliciting a moan into his mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed out, breaking the kiss, his exhale shaky as he brought his mouth to the side of your face, kissing your cheek as he continued his movements, allowing you to feel all of him. “I could never forget how you feel but fuck it almost feels like the first time,” he confessed in a hushed voice near your ear, a small chuckle attached to the words. Giggling in response, you dug your fingertips into the muscles on his back.

“I know,” you agreed simply, bringing your mouth to his shoulder as you bit him lightly, the man breathily laughing at the action, turning toward you to meet your gaze.

“I don’t know how you’re home right now, but I’m so glad you are,” you told him softly, the man smiling happily.

“Me too,” he responded just as you clenched around him, nearing your high. “Grip me like that again and I’m not gonna last.”

“Good,” you grinned, the man chuckling as he kissed you again. Resting his forehead against your own, he squeezed his eyes shut as he continued rolling his hips against yours, your skin becoming dewey in the heat of the moment.

Jimin reveled in the feeling of your body underneath his own, your chest rubbing against his, your hips bumping against his own as you lifted them off the mattress in an attempt to have more of him. The man moved his hand down to your hip, holding you down with a smirk on his lips as your leg wrapped around his own, digging your heel into his thigh as you desperately chased your approaching high.

“So close,” you moaned, Jimin whining near your ear, his tone breathy, a bit of strain withheld in his vocal cords as he attempted to hold off on cumming just yet.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked, almost pleading for mercy, the words followed by a sexy whimper.

Pressing kisses against the side of his face in response, the man turned so his mouth fell on your own, the meeting messy, full of teeth and moans as he reached his high just before you.

It felt as though you were floating as Jimin kissed down your jaw, leaving wet marks across your neck. The man began trailing his lips across your shoulder and down your bicep just before you wrapped your arms around his head. Nuzzling his face against your chest, he closed his eyes, settling into the feeling of your frame, both of you breathless and content.

At some point, Jimin rolled off of you, both of you lying face to face on your sides. Sharing in the intimacy of being together, sweet kisses were passed back and forth, both of you relishing in the touches granted upon each other’s skin.

Few words were spoken between you, but rather you simply existed within each other’s presence. Eventually, you found yourselves cuddled up with Jimin behind you, spooning your nude body, his hand intertwined with your own in front of your chest.

His fingertips were toying with the metal band of your promise ring as your eyes locked on the identical jewelry positioned on his own finger.

This is home.

You weren’t sure when you and Jimin dozed off, nor how long it had been, but you could feel the rumbling of the man’s stomach when you awoke. He probably hadn’t eaten since very early that day. Jimin’s arm was still draped over your hip, his chest pressed snugly against your back. You were tempted to ignore the man’s hunger, as well as your own, and stay in his embrace for longer. But your desire to nurture him won out as you very carefully lifted his arm from your body, crawling away from him as quietly as you could as to not disturb his sleep.

Grabbing the sweatshirt he arrived home in, you slipped it over your head, fitting it onto your body before grabbing a pair of underwear from your dresser. Tiptoeing out of the room, you made your way to the kitchen to prepare food for the man sleeping in your bed.

You didn’t get very far into the cooking, however, before Jimin’s voice cut through the quiet of the apartment.

“You’re such a little clothing thief,” he playfully complained as he entered the kitchen where you were stood in front of the stove. Turning to face him, you were happy to find that his upper body was bare, his lower half covered with the same sweatpants as earlier, the clothing hugging his hips just right. Giggling, you open your arms for him, the man walking right into them, wrapping his own limbs around the back of your head as yours snaked around his waist.

“It smells like you,” you defended, the man smiling against your cheek just before pressing a kiss to the spot.  

“What are you making?” He asked, peering around your body to see the boiling noodles.

“Just some ramen,” you told him, placing a kiss on his neck. “Thought you might wake up a little hungry.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, turning his head back to be face to face with you. The man nudged your nose with his own causing you to scrunch yours in response. “I’m starving,” he chuckled, a smile stretching across your own face.

“Yeah I know, you woke me up,” you teased, gesturing down to his belly, the man giggling just as you kissed him softly. “Can you grab some bowls?”

The man wordlessly answered by detaching himself from you, retrieving some bowls, along with utensils. He stood close by as you transferred the noodles to the bowls, trying to get away with placing more noodles into the bowl that you handed Jimin, only to be met with a knowing scoff. You both moved to the island where you seated yourselves, facing one another, your knees brushing his own, his hand taking solace on your bare thigh.

“How was tour?” You asked him excitedly just as he scooped some of his noodles from his bowl to your own, making a point to ensure you ate just as much as him. Rolling your eyes at the action, he smiled proudly. “And how the hell are you here right now?”

“Magic,” he teased, you sighing, Jimin giggling as he dropped his head toward his chest. Looking up at you with his stunning smile and warm eyes, he bit his bottom lip just slightly. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he told you. “We still have a couple shows in Japan next week, that was true,” he interjected in a playful, unnecessary defense. “So I’ll have to leave in a few days just for a week but-”

“Wait, you don’t have to film stuff this week?” You questioned, watching as Jimin shook his head.

“No, that was all an elaborate lie to surprise you,” he grinned, almost guiltily as you gasped.

“What the fuck?” You expressed your confusion. “Is everyone in on this then because Tae even said you guys are filming this week, and all the girls-”

“I told you it was elaborate,” he interrupted you.

“You’re insane,” you told him in shock. “Amazingly, wonderfully insane.”

Bringing his face to yours, pressing a series of kisses to your cheek, you couldn’t help but smile and let out a breathy laugh. “I just love you,” he defended his actions. “I am amazingly, wonderfully, insanely in love with you.”

“I’m really happy you’re here,” you told him sincerely.  

“Me too, Dear,” he rested his forehead against yours. As a pout positioned itself on your lips, he pulled away from you to look at your expression. “What’s that face for?” He smiled affectionately.

Giggling at yourself, you shook your head. “Nothing, I just like you.”

The man’s smile widened even more as he looked to his bowl, scooping up a bunch of noodles and shoving them into his mouth. “The feeling is mutual,” he mumbled through his mouthful of food, you laughing wholeheartedly at him.

Sitting with Jimin, eating ramen, you could not be happier that he was home. He told you stories about tour that you had already heard through a screen, and you told him all about the happenings at your work that he had also already heard. And he acted as if your stories were as exciting as his own, or maybe he really found them to be as interesting.

It was easy and comfortable and you were both in bliss just simply being together. It had been months since you got to exist with him. And existing with him, well, that was your favorite thing about existing at all.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Rocketear

The Rocketeer is a 1991 Disney movie set in 1930's America where a test pilot gets a jetpack and uses it to fight Nazis and— Wait, what? “Rocketear”? Oh, damn it!

Let's get into the eleventh (chronologically the seventeenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Rocketear.

We start off with Carapace and Cat Noir struggling to hold back some T-Rexes brought back to life by a scientist Jurassic Park style. Seriously, they reference the movie in the same scene.

Why wasn't this the plot of the episode again?

After managing to tame the dinosaurs with a whistle of all things, Ladybug notices something's wrong with Nino after he gives the Turtle Miraculous back to her. Apparently, he's wondering why Rena Rouge (who he knows is Alya) wasn't recruited with him today. Ladybug tells him that he was the only help she needed today. In reality, it's because Alya has adjusted to her new role of supporting Ladybug behind the scenes in her new form, Rena Furtive.

And I'm not a fan of the new form. I get the camo, but it doesn't really help her blend in when her suit is bright blue. I think it's based off the arctic fox, but that animal is able to camouflage itself because it's fur matches the snowy environment. I'm sure a bright blue jumpsuit won't stand out when she tries to blend in at all. Also, the fact that Alya can just change her hero form gives even less excuses as to why Ladybug's new form is only when she uses her Lucky Charm.

Alya is struggling to keep this a secret from Nino because they don't have a lot of secrets in their relationship. Marinette says she can kind of get it because she had to keep her identity a secret from her friend and has to keep keeping her identity a secret from everyone else. Basically, she's telling Alya to suck it up because this is what being a superhero is.

So the next time she sees Nino, Alya tells him she's no longer Rena Rouge, but not about Rena Furtive, which troubles her. The very next scene shows Alya showing Marinette pictures she took of her new costume and asking her which version looks better.

You could always try reviewing Akuma fights. I heard there's one blog that does it when they're not criticizing the famous director Thomas Astruc on social media.

Yeah, in case you can't tell, Alya was only able to rent her brain for a few episodes because she really doesn't seem as understanding about being a superhero as she was in earlier episodes. In episodes like “Optigami” and “Sentibubbler”, we saw Alya use more strategy and show discretion as Rena Rouge, seemingly taking her job more seriously, but then this episode just had to go and piss it all away. I also love how the first time the animators made Alya's skin the same when she's transformed is in a single frame for a joke.

Alya thankfully deletes the picture, but Nino overhears her talking about struggling to find more content for the Ladyblog, and decides to go to the movies with her to help take her mind off things. Nino, in turn, proceeds to give the same reaction to the in-universe Ladybug movie that Astruc gives to the PV.

Apparently, that movie's already getting a sequel and it has a teaser. So was the sequel animated at the same time as the original like Back to the Future Part II and Back to the Future Part III?

Nino gets pissed the next movie in the Ladybug Cinematic Universe will feature Rena Rouge and not Carapace... even though Rena Rouge debuted first. The teaser then shows Rena Rouge falling for Cat Noir (yet another creative liberty taken by the writers or something Astruc's self-insert threw in himself), and takes it like it's the real thing. Dude, the first movie said Ladybug was afraid of cats, and the director yelled at the person it was based on for judging it. He clearly has a hard time distinguishing fiction from reality.

Alya leaves Nino early so she can go on patrol, but Nino sees Cat Noir heading out as well. He then watches a video on the Ladyblog where Alya praises Cat Noir which is totally not Astruc projecting or anything.

I don't know what your definition of a prince is, Alya, and I honestly don't want to know.

So Nino takes this as evidence that Alya is in love with Cat Noir and decides to tell Adrien, who naturally laughs him off. And just before you think we have an episode where Adrien plays the straight man, Adrien decides to visit Alya because he's afraid he accidentally charmed Alya.

Yes, because Cat Noir is so charming, girls are just fighting over him, aren't they?

We then cut to a black and white film noir monologue by Nino (dressed like a detective with a fake mustache), who decides to spy on Alya. When Cat Noir asks Alya if she is attracted to him, she naturally laughs him off, though Cat Noir is thankfully a good sport about it, even giving her a hug to apologize. Unfortunately, Nino took this the wrong way.

The next day at school, Nino takes Adrien into his “office” (it's really an excuse to reuse the boiler room setpiece), and shows him the picture of the hug. Adrien says that Alya would never fall for Cat Noir because she's always dedicated to finding out the truth and telling her boyfriend everything. What's Nino's retort?

Okay, several problems with this bit. First of all, why would Nino even tell Adrien any of this? What would it accomplish? Why not say all this to Alya while confronting her about her alleged unfaithfulness? Second, Ladybug didn't give Nino and Alya their Miraculous at the same time until it was an absolute emergency. She outright said in “Hero's Day” that she didn't have time to recruit Nino and Alya separately.

Ladybug: I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. I know I'm revealing your secret identities but I don't have time to find a good excuse to give them to you separately. Rena Rouge and Carapace, I need you both!

Nino and Alya kept their identities secret from each other until then, with Alya even keeping the fact she knew who Carapace was a secret as well. Nino didn't find out because “they don't hide anything from each other” (which I plan to talk about later).

Other than that, I actually liked Adrien in this scene. It was really investing to see him try to justify the whole secret identities rule while Nino blatantly said there was an exception. This is the kind of stuff I wanted to see when it came to Adrien doubting Ladybug, not him destroying things in his anger.

While Nino rants about how Cat Noir “stole” Alya from him, Shadowmoth sends an Akuma his way, turning him into Rocketear.

And the design he has is just boring. It's just a blue jumpsuit with some black spots that look like teardrops, a teardrop-shaped head and a visor. I think the reason this season's been relying more on past Akumas and using more Sentimonsters is because DQ is terrible at character designs. I mean, compare this suit with Aigraon from Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (his Power Rangers counterpart is Wrench from Dino Charge).

The design does so much more with the teardrop motif, giving him a perpetually miserable face with tear lines going all over his body. Add that to a more diverse color scheme, and you have a much more visually stunning design. And this was created in real life, not rendered on a computer. I'm not sure if this is a budget thing or a laziness thing, but if it's the former, you really need to do better, animators.

The powers are meh, giving Nino the ability to fling explosive tears at enemies. It's a clever idea, and it makes sense he gets a power that parallels Cat Noir's, but I think maybe it would have been more interesting if he couldn't control the tears at all. Like, imagine if he was constantly crying like Blue Diamond, and with every tear he shed, Rocketeer could send it at whoever he felt was causing him misery, mainly Cat Noir, all while serving as a metaphor for people who blame others for their own personal issues. Better yet, make him look like the detective outfit Nino wore for the second act. It would have made him more unpredictable instead of making his tears generic projectile weapons.

Marinette and Alya see the fight and transform into Ladybug and Rena Furtive respectively, the former summoning her Lucky Charm, a projector. Is it just me, or has this been happening with Ladybug a lot recently?

Back to Rocketear, we get a good moment where Cat Noir intentionally lets the Akuma hit him so he can get a chance to resolve things diplomatically. See, this is a moment where Cat Noir's self-sacrificing nature feels heroic and not selfish like when he does it without Ladybug's permission to spite her. Unfortunately, it doesn't really go anywhere as Ladybug shows up and plays the recording Nino took (Alya found his phone earlier), while Rena Furtive uses her Mirage to give the audio to what actually happened that night.

Rena transforms back into Alya and embraces Rocketear, who apologizes to her for his behavior. And then he just... rejects Shadowmoth's power while looking like it wasn't that much effort.

At least when Chloe and Alya did it, we saw them struggling for a little longer. I guess maybe it's because Nino is motivated by his love for Alya, but I think it should have been fleshed out more. So Ladybug purifies the Akuma, gives Nino a Magical Charm, and Cat Noir is still unsure about his feelings for Ladybug at the moment, though they still pound it.

Back in his room, Adrien ponders why Alya and Nino get to know their identities while he and Ladybug can't, but Plagg points out it's because she's the Guardian. It's brief, but I do like seeing Adrien start to doubt Ladybug's judgment, and it looks like it'll foreshadow future episodes. This is a problem I've had since “Hero's Day”, and I'm glad the writers are finally acknowledging this double standard. I just hope they don't end up blaming Marinette for whatever happens later on.

Marinette, of course, apologizes for what happened between Alya and Nino, and I have to say... yeah, no. It's obviously Nino's fault here.

Nino really pushed personal boundaries in this episode, much like Marinette's friends in “Gang of Secrets”. Yes, honesty is a valuable trait, but sometimes, people have secrets they want to keep to themselves. Nino's idea of “not hiding anything from each other” is somewhat controlling, like he's demanding Alya tell him everything whether she wants to or not. The fact that he immediately assumed Alya was cheating on him without giving her freedom to make her own choices doesn't make him look good. Let's be honest, a more realistic outcome would be Alya choosing to break things off with Nino or at least lecture him about how she can do what she wants and keep the secrets she wants. But instead...

And that's how the episode ends.

Okay, Marinette just said she trusted Alya to make the right decision, but I highly doubt she meant this. Marinette strictly said Alya had to keep Rena Furtive a secret, and now she's telling Nino this despite the risk? The whole reason Marinette and Luka broke up was because Marinette had to keep her secrets from Luka, but now it's okay for Alya to be completely honest? How is this not a double standard?

This episode was just dull, and there’s not even much I can really say about it.. There were a handful of standout moments, and the stuff with Adrien was somewhat compelling, but Nino's behavior was just insufferable and dragged the episode down. The Akuma fight was weak, only lasting about four minutes at most, and while the Lucky Charm was more creative this time, the plot was just frustrating. It's really one of the weaker episodes this season.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch the better Rocketeer.

[pair-annoyed]

Anime I Watched This Summer

Summer 2020 has officially come to a close. It’s fall in Animal Crossing and the trees are beginning to turn. Much like quarantine, I spent a lot of my free time watching anime when I wasn’t stressing over starting college. Now that the school year has begun, I thought it would be nice to reflect on everything I’ve watched! 

These Anime were seen between 6/14 - 8/31 (my Birthday!) and are listed in chronological order.

They will be rated on a 1-10 scale; 1 meaning complete garbage, 10 meaning masterpiece. I will offer my thoughts on what I did/didn't like about each show!

1. Bakemono no Ko - 8/10

This was such a great way to start out the summer! I love the dynamic between Kumatetsu and Ren. Overall its a little cliche, but it’s also very wholesome. It’s by the same studio that made Wolf Children (which I loved!). so I knew it was going to be good. My favorite aspect of this movie was its backgrounds and world building! 

2. Wan Sheng Jie - 9/10

Oh my gosh! I know that this is technically a donghua, but its on MAL, so it counts. This show quickly became my favorite slice of life of all time. I adore the art style and all of the characters. The comedy, plot, and design blends so well together. Everything in Wan Sheng Jie feels warm and comfy. It’s also confirmed for a second season! After seeing its cliff hanger ending, I’m so anxious for what comes next! 

3. Dororo - 7/10

I’ll be honest, I’m a sucker for studio MAPPA. I really liked the historical aspects of Dororo. From the outfits to the ways characters behave, its grounded in the constraints of feudal Japan. I would have given this show a higher score if it was a little more grounded in science. I feel like more time should’ve been given to the demons and antagonists of the show. Our MC was so over powered, which made the final fights of the series more lack-luster. I think its less of the anime’s fault and more because the original source material is from the 60s. That being said, I loved this show! It was cute and action packed. Though it isn’t perfect, it holds its own.

4. Bungou Stray Dogs - 5/10

The concepts and action are misconstrued in Bungou Stary Dogs. This is one of those shows that I chose to watch because it was all over Tumblr. The powers themselves are cool, but I can’t understand why this series is so praised. At it’s core its predictable and basic. The fights seemed low stakes and low energy. None of the humor really felt like it belonged. It tried too hard to be something it isn’t. I don’t think I’ll watch beyond this first season. 

5. Kami no Tou - 4.5/10

First off, fuck Rachel, me and my homies hate Rachel. I really really had high hopes for Tower of God. It paves the way for Webtoon adaptations in the future. Its such a shame that this adaptation SUCKED. I have not read the source material, I’m going solely based on the anime. It wasn’t good? It was horrible. I hate Bam, I hate Rachel. I think all the characters expect Rak were awful. Please don’t make a season 2. Please. If you’re interesting in Tower of God, just read the webtoon. 

6. Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun - 7/10

Shoujo anime is my guilty pleasure. I especially liked the way Gekkan Shoujo tackled Sakura and Nozaki’s relationship. Besides just the main characters, even the side characters were enjoyable! It was a fun and creative show. My only complaint is how dense Nozaki is, but I also absolutely love that part of him.

7. Jojo no Kimyou no Bouken (Parts 1-2) - 6.5/10

Jojo is not the saving grace of shounen anime. It isn’t something super revolutionary and it certainly will never be a 10/10. Part 1 was so slow and boring. Jonathan was just mediocre at best. I definitely liked Joseph a LOT more than Jonathan. Part 2 overall was much easier to watch than part 1. The fights are good, but there’s just something about Jojo that I can’t get behind. Although I’m completely bashing this series, I’m going to keep watching it. At this point, I wanna know what a stand is. 

8. Clannad - 5.5/10

I was expecting Clannad to be sad, but instead I got a cute, slice of life, romance. It wasn’t unenjoyable, but it was also a pretty slow-burning show. I loved watching Nagisa and Okazaki slowly fall in love with each other. It was funny at times and sad at other points. I am currently watching Clannad: After Story (which I’ve heard is heartbreaking), so I’m hoping to get some catharsis out of that. 

9. Otome Game no Hametsu Flag shika Nai...  - 6/10

This show is only 12 episodes, and yet it still has filler episodes for some reason? I’m a person who doesn’t typically watch isekai because the genre is so over done. However, when it’s done in a very specific way it’s really fun to watch! This show was definitely a lot of fun, it’s also cute and has so many interesting character-character interactions. The ending is painfully cliche, but I think it adds to this shows charm. 

10. Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai: Tensai-tachi no Renai Zunousen  - 8/10

I loved Love is War so much! I love their weird romantic dynamic. I love the characters, and I love the animation. It’s over the top and executes it humor masterfully. The entire show fills you with anticipation for the two main characters. Kaguya is my favorite character. Although I haven’t seen season two yet, I most certainly will! I’m so upset I hadn’t seen this show sooner.

11. Great Pretender - 8.5/10

This show is so colorful and bubbly. The animation is so smooth and they are able to tackle so many different kinds of things given its plot. The whole show itself just feels like summertime. It came out not to long ago, so some people may not be familiar with it. On top of the show itself, the music is great, with a Jazzy OP and and ED that features Freddie Mercury

12. Steins;Gate 0 - 8/10

 I loved the original Stein;Gate so much! So it’s no surprise how much I liked the second season. It builds significantly off the first season in a sort of “off shot” OVA kind of way. The events of Steins;Gate 0 don’t actually happen, but that doesn’t stop it from being meaningful. The big “twist” was predictable and a bit of a let down, but I still enjoyed this. Granted, I’m bias. 

13. Seishun Buta Yarou wa Yumemiru Shoujo no Yume wo Minai - 9.5/10

I sobbed. So much. This movie was phenomenal, it was such a trip. Having watched the original series, this tore my heart apart. It gets a high score for being able to take the characters I love and creating a wonderfully emotional experience. If you haven’t seen Bunny Girl Senpai, please watch it, and then watch this movie. You won’t regret it! 

14. Hotaru no Haka - 6/10

Grave of the Fireflies made me stop watching anime for a while. Studio Ghibli created something grim, something that leaves the viewers feeling hollow. Its a movie about WWII from Japan’s perspective. As an American, all I could feel while watching this was immense guilt. I will say though, that some of the movies main plot could have easily been prevented if the main character had swallowed his pride. His younger sister was also my least favorite character. I get that she’s a kid and that kids are fussy, but you would think that during wartime, she’d be more understanding and at least try to eat the things she dislikes. 

15. Yagate Kimi ni Naru - 9/10

This was a great way to end the summer. This is more that just GL romance, its a love story. Its about growing up and learning to understand your feelings. I related to Yuu so much, which made this more emotional than I expected. It’s really unlike another romance anime I’ve seen. I hope it gets confirmed for a second season. If not, I’ll be reading the manga. 

Seasonal Shows: (Things that are still airing as of 9/5/2020)

1. The God of High School  7.5/10

Another thing done by studio MAPPA. Are you surprised? I absolutely love the action in GoH. The plot however, is all over the place. The story seems fragmented and hard to follow. Like Tower of God, it was poorly adapted. I’m giving it such a high score, because it’s SO much more enjoyable then Tower of God. 

2. Enen no Shouboutai: Ni no Shou - 4/10

My thoughts on season 2 are about the same as my thoughts on season 1. The only difference is that this season has more Jojo references. I’ve rated it lower because its so repetitive. I’m so sick of watching it, but I’ve got to see it through the bitter end.   

3. Re:Zero kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu 2nd Season - 8.5/10 

All I’m going to say about Re:Zero is that I love it. I can’t give an accurate review of it because I’ve been hyping this season since it was announced. If you’re into non-typical isekai, watch Re:Zero, its so enjoyable!

[retrogalwrites]

Hawks/Takami Keigo x  catgirl!reader

Title: “Canary killed the cat” / view on ao3

Summary: Hawks takes a stray cat home with him. Yes, that cat is you.

warnings: dubcon, yandere hawks, misogyny, manipulation, dehumanization, literal pet play, kidnapping/abduction, mommy issues, softness but in all the wrong ways

words: 1800

He found you shivering behind a dumpster in an alley, it took him less than five minutes to track you down.

A pair of feline ears stood above your head, pointing backwards in sign of pure fright, they were the color of your hair. You stared at him with wide eyes and bared teeth, hands desperately clutching the stolen bread against your chest so hard it had become mostly wasted crumbs scattered on the ground. You pleaded, you hissed, shaking like you were going to crumble as well.

"Let me go, let me go, let me go!!!"

"Wish I could, but as you must know, stealing is a very bad thing to do, sweetheart..." He spoke casually and condescendingly, of course, someone who did not really believe in the very things he preached.

"I know...I know, I just..." You had started to cry. "I was so hungry, please, let me go..."

It was a pathetic sight, but not one Keigo hadn't already seen far too many times to count. There are people like you everywhere, he grew up with people like you, and they always end up in the same place.

It shouldn't have made a difference, you shouldn't have made a difference. But when he approached your struggling form pinned to a bricked wall by feathers, Keigo couldn't help the curiosity that made him peer at your face.

 It was the curiosity that killed the cat.

"Oh?" He sounded surprised, because he was. "You are cute."

"...w-what?"

Crouching down next to you, he forcefully grabbed you by the jaw to turn your head to the side, inspecting you from different angles with a gaze of morbid curiosity.

Indeed, you were cute, extremely cute. Perhaps too cute for your own good. Was it something in your eyes? Your features? He wasn't sure, and that only intrigued him more.

Of course, you were a disheveled mess, all rags, dirt smeared on your face and bruised limbs, surely from a life living more like animal than a woman in a society that had no place for the outcasts. No, you were nothing like those women he was used to, perfect beauties and bimbos born into wealth and acceptance, instead you were just a pitiful looking thing.

And yet...you were so cute, despite of that. Or maybe because of it.

"W-What are you going to do to me?"

Keigo smiled at you, he had already made up his mind on that matter.

"What's your name?" He asked instead, purposely ignoring your question. Confused and frightened, you hesitated before answering.

His smile grew wider, feathers ruffling behind his back.

———————

After taking you home, the first thing he did was getting you clean.

It pleased him greatly, how you didn't put up a fight even when he ordered you to take off your rags for clothes while he prepared a warm bath for two. Perhaps you were too exhausted, maybe too afraid, or maybe it had just been that long since you were given the most basic care that, even in a situation like this, the prospect of a bath was too good not to submit to it.

"Wh...why are you doing this?" You asked meekly, as you undressed in his bathroom, under his gaze. "Are heroes even supposed to...?"

"Shhh. Don't worry your little head about that, let's just get you cleaned, alright sweetheart?"

He spoke amiably, but his eyes openly leered at the curvature of your hips, the ripe swell of your breasts and that pretty pussy covered by a patch of pubic hair (most women trim and shave these days, a shame, he preferred the natural look).

While you submerged yourself in the tub with him, Keigo eagerly scrubbed your body off all the grime and dirt. His hands eagerly explored your body, testing the softness and the suppleness of your flesh by groping it. He was hard the entire time, watching your skin become clean and soft filled him with certain satisfaction that had his cock begging for attention, wishing to be buried deep in the warmth of your tight heat, but he had to control himself for the time being.

If you noticed his erection poking at your backside, you didn't say anything, and Keigo liked that in a woman.

Keigo liked you.

———————

It was not like you had a home to return to, nor people waiting for you anywhere, right? There was nothing technically wrong with taking something that didn't belong to anyone, and he loved living on technicalities.

That's right, taking a little stray cat home should've been fine.

Even if you tried to claw your way away after the first day, when you realized he had no intentions on letting you go back to the streets.

"You should be grateful, don't you think?" He spoke bemused by the sight of you, curled into a ball with your tail wrapped around your body, it was cute. "You don't have to live like a stray anymore."

"B-But I'm a person, this is wrong...you just can't..."

"When was the last time anyone treated you like a person?"

Your silence in that moment sounded like the beginning of your acceptance. The despair on your face reminded him of something, or rather someone...that despair looked a lot like his mother's eyes.

He didn't want to see that look on your face.

———————

Keigo simply locked you in a room for a few days after that, waited until you calmed down, he figured that you just needed to get familiar with your new home, he knew that he had to be patient when it comes to adopting a new pet. He brought you presents everyday for a week, all the luxuries girls love and that he knew for a fact you never had known about: expensive clothes (tailored to his tastes), plushes, shoes, perfumes, chocolates and candy of all types.

When he found you nibbling on candy, curled up on a giant teddy bear, he knew that it was just a matter of time before you were seduced by the opportunity of living a comfortable life.

————————

Pretty girls had been more like a given commodity for most of his life, from A to Z he had fucked most beauties out there with a big enough names that many would been jealous of his body count, but Keigo was never one to really fawn over any of them before, he couldn't even remember the faces of more than half of them either.

But in that moment, having you nestled between his legs trying to fit his cock into your pretty mouth until your nose was buried in his pubes, Keigo felt like he was with the cutest thing in the entire fucking world, and the shit-eating grin plastered on his face showed it. You were just too adorable, trying so earnestly not to choke on the size of his fully erect length, the head already poking at the back of your throat and he hadn't even started moving yet.

"Good girl, you're doing it so well."

He flicked one of your ears with his index finger, it twitched.

Purring loudly, you tried bobbing your head as you nursed on his cock, drooling all over it in the process. It felt good, better than good, and Keigo was overcome with how beautiful you looked in that moment, and how no one would've looked at you twice before he found you.

As your mouth worked on his cock, one of your hands massaged his balls, he didn't even had to tell you to, a sign you had learned well. Soon enough he felt that pleasure getting dangerously close to reaching climax, and he made you stop. You whined, a disappointed sound being pushed away as his cock slipped out of your mouth, a trail of saliva still connecting his the head to your swollen lips.

"Don't pout at me like that, today I feel like filling you up, pussycat." He chuckled, he large palm petting the top of your head, which you were quickly nuzzling against. "Get on the bed."

Well trained as you were, you climbed onto the mattress quickly getting on all fours, and Keigo was quick to follow. Grabbing you by the hips, he pulled your round ass against his erection, your fluffy tail stood up in the air vibrating with anticipation as strong fingers   pulling at your soaked pussy lips to expose your tight little hole to his hungry gaze. Purring, your back arched when Keigo slowly buried his cock into your cunt, he felt your fleshy walls stretching around him, shaping around him to his shape and girth, until he was balls deep inside.

You moaned, tightening around him with a vice grip that could've made him cum a little too soon.

"M-Master...master...please...."

"What a dirty girl, begging for cock like a whore." And he made you into that, he couldn't have been more proud. Getting you to call him your master took a little while, but damn had it been worth the wait.

Keigo started moving, thrusting his hips and pulling his cock half-way out of you before slamming back in. He watched how your cunt swallowed him hole with ease, the ripples on your ass when his hand came down to slap one of your cheeks, making you mewl like the animal you had accepted to be.

Kaigo threw his had back when he felt that climax brewing all over again, before his thrusts came to a halt as he held your hips in place. He spilled his hot cum right into you, the little entrance of your womb sucking the semen straight from his cock like your body was begging to be stuffed with it.

He pulled out his softening cock, a trail of cum dribbling down your thighs and onto the sheets. You never stopped purring.

————————

Keigo returned from his patrol to find you looking out of the large glass window of his bedroom. He petted your head as he approached you from behind.

"You don't miss it out there, do you?" He asked, you shook your head. Of course he knew you didn't, otherwise Keigo wouldn't allow you to approach the windows on first place.

He pulled out a rectangular box from his pocket, watched with delight the way your curious eyes stared at it, already knowing it had to be a gift for you. Keigo chuckled, you were getting very spoiled, he thought for a second, but only a second.

"I thought it was about time I got you one of these." He opened the box to reveal a pet collar with a tag showing your name engraved. "What do you think?"

The smile on your face was the sort of look he always wanted to see on it.

[cadouisms]

captive

ch 1 || next ||

karl heisenberg/afab!reader, 18+ ~8k summary: While in Romania as part of your university's study-away program, you accidentally stumble upon a village filled with unholy creatures, and find yourself running for your life. A strange man rescues you and saves you from the brink of death, but there's one caveat: you can't leave. As you come to find out, there's many incentives to staying.

warnings: descriptions of wounds, violence, heisenberg is Mean, collaring, bootlicking, humiliation, smoking

also on ao3

It’s cold.

You’re long past the point of being able to feel your fingertips. The snow has seeped into every inch of your skin, sinking deep into the marrow of your bones. Each heaving breath you take stabs into your chest, and the sheer cold makes your lungs burn to the point that you think you aren’t breathing in oxygen at all, just crystals of water vapor. It makes you lightheaded — or is that the result of exhaustion? You’re sure you’ve been running since the moment you stepped foot into this accursed village, but fear has warped your sense of time. It could have been mere minutes or hours, and with the way the clouds obscure any hope of moonlight, you can’t see the environment around you, much less judge the time of night.

You slow to a stop and immediately double over, frozen hands braced on your equally-frozen thighs as you try to control your breathing. It was foolish to take a walk into the forest in the dead of night, especially since you don’t know this area well, but you aren’t stupid enough to have completely lost your way. It must have been the darkness or some odd pull of fate that twisted your sense of direction, made you take a left instead of a right to end up in this hellhole. You had no idea the village existed in the first place; your host family made no mention of it to you — but then again, perhaps they weren’t expecting you to wander off on your own in the first place. Either way, you managed to stumble here completely by accident, and now you have no idea how to leave.

That is, if you manage to survive the night.

Part of you thinks that you might be dreaming, that this is a nightmare, because monsters aren’t real. But you have no other word to describe the freakish half-man, half-beast creatures that lurk around every corner of the village, vying for the opportunity to rip you to shreds. Based on their growls and snarls, you assumed they were wild animals, up until you caught one running on its hind legs as it gave chase.

You have so many questions and so little answers, but you know that the cold stings too much for this just to be a product of too many sleepless nights. However improbable, this is real, and you have a very real chance of dying.

A vicious growl sounds behind you and pure terror bolts up your spine, sending you fumbling into action as you fall into a fast sprint. The creatures are fast, but you’re blessedly faster — you’ve always been good at running and hiding. You’ve never been in a fight before and you’ve never shot a gun, so you couldn’t defend yourself even if you had some sort of weapon — but you can outspeed them.

Or at least, you could, if it wasn’t so fucking dark.

Unable to see and with panic guiding your footsteps, you slip down a small incline and tumble into icy-cold water. You gasp in both surprise and shock; whatever exhaustion you felt is replaced by pure adrenaline. The rushing stream splashes your face and sinks into the fabric of your clothes, weighing you down, and you have to half-crawl, half-drag yourself to the other side of the bank. You shut your eyes tight as the choppy flow of water laps at your face, threatening to spill down into your throat. You cough and sputter as you pull yourself up onto the ground, hastily wiping the stinging water from your eyes so that you can see.

When you open them, you find yourself face-to-face with one of the creatures. Its monstrous yellow eyes seemingly glow in the night, and despite your fear, you find that you can’t look away. Its lips pull back into a snarl as its hot, foul breath puffs against your face.

You scream.

Before you can run away, it grabs for your arm and digs its claws into your vulnerable flesh. Red-hot pain erupts from the wound and you cry out, futilely trying to pull your arm back to your side. Instead, its grip tightens as it embeds its claws into your skin, and with one abrupt movement it sends you cascading down the side of a steep hill. Your head hits a rock with a sickening crunch and you can’t do anything but lay there, stunned, as your vision swims.

Belatedly, you wonder if you still have your arm.

Your breaths come out in quiet wheezes as you stare up at the cloudy sky. In the distance, multiple pairs of yellowed eyes gaze menacingly down at your vulnerable form. More and more pop up over the ridge, and you have to wonder if there’s enough of you to go around. Would they take turns, or would they fight for it? Would there even be anything left on your bones when the carrion came? You hope they’d be kind enough to leave your face untouched — how else would your body be identified?

You let your eyes drift shut, prepared to surrender to your obvious fate. You’re tired, goddamnit. You’ve been running for far too long, and you don’t see any end to it. Maybe they’ll eat you and instead you’ll wake up from this nightmare with the blankets kicked off your body, inviting the cold chill of winter to send you to this hellhole in your dreams.

You hear a howl — it’s an awful human imitation of a wolf’s howl, rougher around the edges and in the wrong octave, but it screams of violence, of a hunter that has found its prey. The others join in until the hills ring with the promise of your death and it sends such a chill down your spine that your eyes snap open, fear clearing your mind.

Fuck, maybe you are as dumb as some say. If you’re going to die here, you’d rather bleed out painlessly than be ripped to shreds.

You flip over onto your stomach. In the dim lighting, you can just barely make out what looks to be a hole. There’s no chance for you to outrun them now, so hiding is your only option. The snow crushes almost pleasantly beneath your hand as you attempt to drag yourself to the hole, but you find that your left arm is all but unusable. It hurts to move it, much less support your weight with it. The only thing you can do is struggle closer to the hole, inch by tortuous inch.

The howling is getting closer, you think. You peer over the edge — it looks to be a steep drop, but the opening is large enough for you to just barely slip through. You pray it’s too small for the creatures to follow, and with what little strength you have left, you let yourself fall headfirst down into the hole.

You land flat on your back with a soft thud, and though the impact shocks you, you can’t even muster the strength to yelp. Something hums faintly in your ear, reminding you of the buzz of electricity. You turn your head and rest your cheek against the cool earth, letting the noise lull you to sleep as your exhaustion finally takes you under.

  Soft.

Warm.

Bright.

It feels like your body is too heavy and yet far away, all at once. Like you’re drifting in a deep sea of nothingness, weighed down by incalculable pressure. Absently, you wonder if this is what death is like — senseless and empty.

God, but you’re exhausted. Are you supposed to feel so bone-tired when you’re dead? It’s as if you went days without sleeping, like something had come along and sucked all the energy from your body. If you concentrate, you find that you can curl your hand into a fist. Your fingertips catch on rough fabric, not unlike the threadbare blankets you’d been given for your bed, and you rub the cloth between forefinger and thumb. It pulls almost unpleasantly at your skin — not dead, then, you think. You aren’t sure if you’re disappointed or relieved.

Blearily, you open your eyes. Muted colors blur and shift until they settle into shapes. There’s a nightstand directly in front of you, topped with a small lamp that gives the room its warm, soft glow. In the corner of your vision you spot the edge of the pillow your cheek must be resting on, made a dull-yellow color with age. Your neck twinges as you turn your head, and you wince — definitely not dead, then.

You stare at the mottled ceiling above as you take stock of how you feel. Your mouth is cotton-dry, tongue thick and stuck behind your teeth. There’s a dull ache spread throughout your whole body, like you’ve been hit with a truck, and you start to wonder if maybe that’s the case. You can’t remember what you were doing, or why you’re here. You don’t even recognize this place to begin with, and the more you try to remember, the more it seems just out of your grasp, like a word left on the tip of your tongue.

A knob turns, and your gaze snaps to the door just beyond the foot of the bed. It creaks open to reveal a broad figure stepping into the room, and as you catch the hint of its shaggy hair your memories come flooding back: the forest, your misstep into the village, and the awful creatures that lurked within. An image of glowing eyes and snarling teeth flashes just behind your eyes and your adrenaline spikes, causing you to shoot up in bed and scramble backwards away from the figure.

Pain accompanies the sudden movement and you can’t hold back a whimper of pain — you’re more hurt than you initially thought. The figure laughs almost mockingly as it approaches you. “Ah, so Sleeping Beauty finally awakes. I was almost hoping you wouldn’t.”

It — he, you realize — steps close enough that the bedside lamp illuminates his features. Most of his expression is obscured behind his round shades and the wide brim of his hat, but you can still make out his wolfish grin, surrounded by his dark and unkempt facial hair. You shudder.

“Wh —” Your throat protests your attempts to talk and all that comes out is a rough squeak. The man laughs again, obviously finding your awful situation humorous, and your gaze follows him across the room as he picks up a glass of water. You look at him with suspicion as he offers it to you.

“What? You think I would go through the trouble of saving your sorry ass just to poison you?” There’s an edge to his tone that borders on annoyance, and his smirk falls when you make no move to grab the proffered glass. With a huff, he takes a swig from it. “Look. It’s fine.”

Part of you screams not to trust him. You look from between him and the glass, internally debating whether or not to take it, and the man’s patience quickly seems to run out.

“Don’t be ungrateful. I’ll fucking pour it down your throat if I have to.”

That settles it. Hurriedly, you reach out and take it from him. The liquid is cool and refreshing, a balm for your sore throat, and it soothes all the way down. You find yourself uncaring that your lips are technically where his had been just moments ago, or that the water tastes slightly stale — you drain it in just a few large gulps.

As you lower the glass, you catch sight of your left arm and startle: it’s been wrapped in off-white bandages, and you can see where your blood has seeped through to stain the fabric. When you attempt to move it, pain shoots through your limb and you grimace. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as before, more comparable to a muscle ache, and for that you’re grateful. You’re happy you still have an arm at all.

“You were in pretty bad shape when they brought you to me.” His words give you pause — who’s they? — but instead of speaking, you watch with trepidation as the strange man reaches into the pocket of his trench coat. To your relief, he pulls a half-burned cigar out along with a zippo and relights it, filling your nose with the acrid smell of burnt tobacco. Wispy trails of smoke accompany his next words. “I’m impressed you made it through the night!”

You’ve calmed down from your initial panic, but something about this man sets you on edge and makes you wary. Still, you know that here — wherever that may be — is safer than being outside in the freezing cold and where those monsters might still linger.

“Where —” You pause to try and coax wetness back into your mouth, to ease the sandpaper-quality of your throat. “Where is this?”

“My factory.” The cherry of his cigar burns strikingly red as he takes a slow, deep drag. He exhales a cloud of smoke that drifts upward, catching on the scant light of the room. For a moment, his glasses stand out stark-black against the white smoke, reminding you inversely of those creatures. It’s not the whites of his eyes you see but the absence of them; his humanity concealed. He rests his foot against the edge of the bed and leans forward, bracing an elbow on his raised knee. “Y’got lucky, kid. You made it pretty close to the boundary of my property. How’d you end up here in the first place?”

You unconsciously lean a bit farther back, unnerved by his presence. “I got...lost,” you admit.

He snorts. “Lost, huh? You must be dumber than you look!”

You bristle. You want to tell him that it was dark, that you couldn’t see where you were going, that you were running for your life — but he speaks before you have a chance to even open your mouth.

“Then again, you’re not from around here, are you? Guess I can’t blame ya, though it’s a miracle you wandered this far out.” He taps the edge of his cigar and sends ash drifting down to the thin sheet acting as your blanket. You have to resist the urge to wipe it off.

If he knows you aren’t from the village, though, then maybe… “How do I get back?” you ask, unable to keep the eagerness from your voice. “How do I leave?”

“Leave?” The man tilts his head, mouth curving into a dangerous grin. His lips pull back to reveal his teeth and the light seems to glint off them, making you feel like the lamb before the wolf, caught in its deception. “Oh, no, sweetheart. You aren’t leaving.”

Your heart drops in your chest. “Wh-what?”

He laughs, cruel and mocking. “I mean, you can try if you want! It’d make for one helluva show. I’d even give you directions to get out of here!” He steps back, planting both feet solidly on the floor below. “But, even if you escaped here alive, you’d still have the lycans waiting for you back in the village, and I doubt you’d survive another encounter with them.”

“Lycans?” you echo.

“Oh, come on.” The man gestures to your bandaged arm with his cigar, flinging more ash around. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. They almost killed you, remember?”

“Those...creatures?” Lycans? Like lycanthropy? “They’re...you mean…”

“Careful not to think too hard. I can see the cogs turning in your head, poor thing.” He drops his cigar and crushes it underneath his boot, grinning smugly all the while. “I’ll leave you alone to process this. I’m sure realizing fairy-tale monsters are real can be quite the traumatic experience.” His laughter trails after him as he disappears out of the room. The door shuts behind him with a soft click.

You stare blankly ahead, mind reeling from all the new information.

Surely he wasn’t serious…? He’d let you leave. He was just waiting for you to recover. Right? Right.

And the werewolves — lycans, as he’d called them — he was kidding about that too! You must’ve hit your head real bad, or made them up as the result of some weird fever dream. You’re still dreaming, you conclude. A dream within a dream.

You lay back against the bed and close your eyes. A dream. You’ll wake up soon, you’re sure of it.

...Except the longer you lie there, the more you begin to suspect that he was telling the truth. Your mind buzzes, too noisy to let you sleep despite your exhaustion, so you resolve to at least explore the room a little.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and realize you’re still wearing all your clothes, even your shoes. You toe your sneakers off and let them drop to the floor below, then slowly stand. As long as you don’t move too fast, you figure you’ll be okay — you hurt, true, but you don’t feel on the verge of passing out.

The bed that you’d been resting on isn’t a bed so much as it is a stained mattress on an old frame. The sheet you’d been covered with was just that — a sheet. It looks as threadbare as you expected, like it had been in use for years.

The drawer in the bedside table reveals nothing but metallic odds and ends, and the small wardrobe is completely empty. The lack of items and the thin coating of dust along every surface makes the room feel impersonal, lonely.

You discover a thin door that you hadn’t previously noticed. The hinges squeak when you push it open and the light takes a moment to flicker on, but it turns out to be a small bathroom. Cramped as it is, there’s a full-sized tub along the far wall, and your brain lights up at the chance to be clean. You close the door behind you as you step fully inside. There’s a toilet to your right and a sink to your left, and you pause as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You look like shit.

Dark circles sit heavy under your eyes, made more prominent by the overhead light, and there’s all sorts of grime caked onto your face. As you strip your clothing, you discover more dirt, more blood, and multiple scrapes and bruises. There’s several smaller wounds that obviously had been left to scab over rather than cleaned and bandaged, and you scratch off a bit of dried blood with a scowl. You’re grateful that stranger didn’t strip you, but sheesh. It makes you feel a little gross knowing you’d been sitting in your own filth for god knows how long.

Despite it all, you seem to have come out of it just a little worse for wear. The last thing is to check on your arm, and though it doesn’t hurt so much anymore, you’re a little frightened of what you may find. Carefully, you unwrap the bandages, fully expecting to see an ugly mess of twisted flesh — only to find your arm already scabbed over, like it’s been healing for weeks. It doesn’t have the tell-tale signs of infection, either; the area around the wound isn’t hot or inflamed.

Either it was less severe than you thought, or that man is some sort of miracle doctor.

You shrug off the weird feeling in your chest and turn to the tub, twisting the knobs. The water that pours out is dirty brown from disuse, and you wait until it runs clear before you plug the drain and allow the tub to fill. You sink down into the lukewarm water, drawing your knees to your chest, and breathe out a quiet sigh. The room fills with silence, the faint hum of electricity only broken by the occasional drip, drip from the faucet.

You break down.

You had almost died. You know what you saw — you didn’t hallucinate those creatures, those lycans, and you have the wounds to prove it. You’re in a strange land, far away from your real home, back in America. When your advisor presented you with the option to study away in Europe for a semester, it had seemed like a good idea at the time — you were a second-year student with zero prospects and zero specializations, and it would be fully covered by your financial aid.

But fuck, if you had known coming to Romania would end up like this, you would have never agreed in the first place. It was a last-ditch effort to find something you were passionate about, like the movies, when people go to Europe to “find themselves” or whatever — but, looking back, you suppose they’re always set in Italy or France, not Romania.

Instead, all you got was an apathetic host family who wouldn’t even indulge your half-assed attempts to speak their language, a stronger sense of isolation, and kidnapped, since it seems like the only way you’re leaving is in a bodybag.

You wrap your arms tight around yourself, fingernails making half-crescents in your skin, and stifle a sob. Even if they’d be able to find this place, no one would be coming for you. Not your host family, and certainly not your real family, as you haven’t spoken to them since you graduated high school. Outside of the occasional classmate, you have no friends, either.

The man said he didn’t plan on killing you, but maybe he should have never rescued you in the first place.

By the time the water turns cold your tears have dried, and you slowly uncurl yourself from your sitting-ball position so you can properly clean yourself. There’s no soap, leaving you to methodically rub at your skin until all traces of dirt and grime are gone. The water turns a murky grey, and you drain and refill it once more before you wash your face and hair.

You don’t feel exactly clean, merely… less dirty, but it helped, you think. So did the crying.

Water pools around your feet as you step out of the tub, and to your dismay, you can’t find any towels. Instead, you come upon a roll of bandages and a bottle of mysterious fluid simply marked ‘first aid.’ There’s no other description or any sort of warning label, but it only takes you a second to decide to use it. Still nude, you liberally pour it over your wounded arm, and then rub some on your fingertips to massage into your smaller cuts and scrapes. It doesn’t sting, to your surprise, and it smells oddly minty. You bandage your arm and slide on your underclothes, leaving the rest of your dirtied clothes to sit in a heap on the floor.

You leave the bathroom and flop unceremoniously onto the mattress. The cool air makes goosebumps prickle on your damp skin, but you don’t have the energy to do anything more than half-heartedly wrap the sheet around your body. You feel just as tired as you did when you woke up, and though it’s been two hours since then at most, the pull of sleep coaxes your eyelids to close, and you drift off into a fitful rest.

   “Breakfast!”

The door ricochets off the wall with a loud bang, jolting you out of a dead sleep. The man from earlier stands in the doorway with a small tray carried in his hands, that same insufferable grin sitting lopsided on his mouth as he takes glee in your panic. “Aww, poor baby,” he coos, “did I scare you?”

“Yes,” you hiss. His shaded gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long and you remember you’re very underdressed, heaps of exposed skin making you feel vulnerable in his strange presence. You scramble to tug the blanket around yourself as your face heats up and the man cruelly laughs again.

“You make it too easy.” You tense as he all but struts over, workboots heavy against the floor, but he only comes close enough to set the tray on the bedside table. There’s some slices of bread, cheese, and unidentifiable meat, along with a glass of water. The dishes look grimy and unclean, but the food looks fine.

You take some comfort in knowing he doesn’t intend on starving you. He may want to keep you trapped here, but at least he doesn’t seem to want to make you miserable. “...Thanks,” you finally murmur after a moment. Your eyes flit from him to the food, your distrust evident in your face.

“Don’t worry. It’s not poisoned,” he remarks, obviously noticing your hesitation.

You blanch. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

His shit-eating grin says otherwise, but you’re starting to suspect he just likes toying with you, the bastard. “Eat it or not, I don’t care. Just don’t come crying to me when you get hungry.” He turns on his heel, his coat swishing at his ankles, and makes his way toward the door.

“Wait —”

“We can chitchat later. I have work to do.”

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

He pauses, one foot in the hallway, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. His hat obscures most of his face, leaving you to stare at the arrogant curl of his mouth. “Heisenberg,” he finally says, and leaves.

The door shuts behind him. In the silence, you can faintly hear his footsteps fade away until the only thing left is the quiet hum in your ears.

You reach for the tray. The bread is somehow equally stale and moist, but in the worst combination. The unidentifiable meat is also...unidentifiable, but it doesn’t smell unpleasant nor have a bad taste. You tear the bread into manageable chunks and make little finger sandwiches. It only takes a couple bites for you to realize you’re ravenous and you quickly devour the plate of food, leaving you with a sense of that’s all? as soon as you finish.

He brought you food, so naturally that means he has a kitchen. It’s the logical conclusion, you tell yourself, and you set the tray back on the nightstand as you carefully get up from the bed. The bone-deep weariness from earlier still lingers, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but you feel much better than before. A twinge of pain shoots up your arm if you move it incorrectly, but otherwise it doesn’t bother you.

Remembering that you’re still practically naked, you grab the sheet from the bed and wrap it around you like some sort of toga before you step to the main door. The knob turns easily under your hand, but apprehension prevents you from pushing it open. You don’t know what you’re expecting, but all kidnappers have some weird dungeon-esque room, right? Maybe he’s keeping you just beyond his torture chamber or his murder room or his —

— Study?

The door leads into another relatively-normal looking room. It’s about the size of the bedroom with a desk covered with miscellaneous books and papers at one end of it. The rest of the wallspace is covered with bookshelves, but most of their racks are empty. Instead, metal bits and bobs cover a large amount of the surface and a good bit of the floor. The man — Heisenberg, you remind yourself — did say that you were in his factory, which would explain the abundance of scrap metal around. The question is: what does he manufacture?

Murder weapons, your brain helpfully supplies, which you promptly ignore. You hope it’s something reasonable, like cars or machinery, and not something you’d see in a cheesy horror film.

There’s a rather large and metallic door on the opposite wall from which you entered, and you eagerly attempt to open it. There’s no handle or knob, meaning you can’t pull it open, and no matter how much force you apply, you can’t push it open. It doesn’t budge under your weight, acting more like a stone wall than an exit.

You sigh. No foray into the kitchens, then. The only rooms you have access to are this one, the bedroom, and the bathroom, presumably for a reason. How big is this factory, you wonder? What else lies beyond your small prison? What is Heisenberg hiding?

You give up trying to open the door, and instead explore the study. Most of the books are technical ones about machinery and mechanical know-how, but there’s the odd anatomical book thrown in. On the desk you find an old and weathered notebook, though it’s mostly blank. The pages that are filled have been written in an almost illegible scrawl, like chicken scratch or a doctor’s signature, and you can’t even begin to make heads or tails of what it says.

There’s nothing else of note in the room. No key, no hidden secret evil plan, nothing. You return to your room and resolve to find out what you can organically through talking with Heisenberg.

 Or at least, that was your plan.

You still spend a large portion of your days sleeping, both body and mind needing the extra rest in order to recover from your ordeal in the village. Your energy comes and goes, but you find that your arm is healing incredibly. It’s going to leave a large and ugly scar, but by the third time you change your bandages, you realize there’s no need to cover it again. Your other scrapes and cuts have all but healed completely, and even your bruises have faded to a muted yellow.

Heisenberg is...well. You only see him when he stops by to bring you food, and even then his visits are short. He doesn’t ask how you’re healing, nor does he entertain you with idle chatter — he enters the bedroom in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible (to frighten you), hands you your food, and leaves. On one occasion, he had come in smelling heavily of oil and smoke and had seemed like his mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t even reacted when you called his name.

Most other times, he will at least respond if you speak — like when you asked him for toiletries and he’d groused that you were “a handful.” Nonetheless, you found tattered towels and some half-used soap bars at the foot of the bed afterward.

He almost always manages to sidestep your questioning or answer with a non-answer, but you remember one particular conversation that made your hair stand on end.

“Are you a doctor?”

“You could say that.” And the way he’d grinned had unnerved you, like he was amused by how little you knew, like he had a secret he didn’t intend to share.

He’s a threat, your brain had whispered, but part of you knows he isn’t all bad. He’s certainly less creepy than some Tinder dates you’ve been on, and he’s annoyingly charismatic in an asshole sort of way. Despite everything, you feel oddly drawn to him — though you hesitate to call it anything but simple curiosity. So much mystery surrounds him and his actions, and he constantly defies your horror movie expectations for how a kidnapping should play out.

Escaping sits at the forefront of your mind, but there isn’t much you can do. There are no windows in any of the three rooms you have access to, and the only door that leads (presumably) out into the greater factory is constantly locked. You’ve tried opening the door after Heisenberg delivers your meals in the hope that he’d conveniently forget to lock it, but you’ve had no such luck.

Even if you had a viable escape plan, there’s the issue of actually physically being able to escape. You wear fatigue like a second skin even with all the bedrest you’ve managed to accumulate, and though the physical wounds from your night in the village are practically nonexistent, the thought of having to go through all that again is enough to send your heart racing.

Despite this, you do what you can to fill your time and make it more bearable. You wash your clothes with the soap Heisenberg had supplied to avoid sitting in your own filth day in and day out, and even wash the sheets to the bed. Your thoughts are equally divided between wishful fantasies of escaping, wild daydreams, and wondering when Heisenberg will bring your next meal.

Eventually, sheer boredom drives you to steal a book from the study. It’s one on the intricate makings of a pre-1970s-era vehicle, and though the technical jargon goes way over your head, it helps break up the monotony of your current existence.

(You did, at one point, attempt to exercise to pass the time. It took two sit-ups before you promptly decided it was a horrible idea and you’d rather rot in bed.)

Unwillingly, your life becomes a cycle of wishing and waiting. Wishing for food, for entertainment; waiting for Heisenberg, for a chance to escape. Somehow, your chance arrives much sooner than expected.

With the lack of natural light and your own messed up internal clock, you have no real marker for the passage of time. Heisenberg comes too irregularly for you to rely on him to mark “morning” and “night” with his visits, and you spent so much time sleeping that your own biological clock is out of whack, so the best you can do is guess. It’s on “day” five by your own calculations that you catch your lucky break.

A few minutes after Heisenberg drops off your breakfast, once you’re certain his footsteps are long gone, you head to the door in the study. You press your hands to the cool metal and push, expecting it to be as unyielding as ever — only for it to give under your weight and creak open.

Your stomach drops. For as often as you thought about escaping, most of your daydreams were power fantasies about fighting off lycans and cleverly making your way back out of the village. You have no plan for actually leaving the factory.

Familiar anxiety begins to crawl up your spine as you contemplate what to do. You could return to the bedroom and actually formulate a plan, but — no. The chances of this happening again are slim. You don’t want to risk Heisenberg coming back to lock the door and leaving you trapped here due to your own cowardice. You inhale deeply to steel your nerves, forcing your fear on the backburner, and step out.

It’s dark. Your eyes adjust to the difference in lighting as you let the door shut behind you, casting away your only remaining source of brightness. The difference in atmosphere is like night and day; where your rooms were warm and soft, the metal corridor you now stand in is cold and inhospitable. It’s a place meant for machines, not humans. The ever-present hum that rang faintly in your rooms seems louder, as if you’re closer to the source, and yet it almost makes your skin crawl, like the memory of nails on a chalkboard. You shiver.

Red emergency lights guide your way as you explore your surroundings, giving it the sinister vibe you were expecting à la horror movies. Maybe Heisenberg doesn’t have a specific torture chamber, you think. Maybe it’s the whole factory.

If only you knew.

The corridor leads you straight to another door, which swings open to reveal yet another darkened hallway. It branches off into two separate directions, however, and you remember how Heisenberg had jokingly offered to give you maps to aid your escape. Would it really be necessary?

Yes, you come to find out. You had picked the left hallway out of some vague advice of turning left to escape a maze, but it only seems to lead to more doors, most of which are locked. The single unlocked one takes you around into a large, looping corridor, until you end up right where you started.

You sigh, and turn right this time.

Like before, you find several possible exits, though only one opens. The instant you step through, you feel something in the air...shift. The usual hum is gone, replaced with dead silence, and the room is pitch black. Dread sits heavy at the back of your throat. Everything inside you screams for you not to continue on, but there’s no other option. There's nowhere else to go.

You feel around until the flat of your hand finds the wall, and you walk ahead at a slow pace. The uncertainty of what lies ahead makes your mind conjure up far-fetched and impossible images, and every time your hand brushes up against something unexpected, you jump back with your heart in your throat. You navigate with your other hand extended far out in front of you to avoid colliding into obstacles, and your feet shuffle awkwardly forward, inch by tortuous inch.

You pause as your hand catches on some round protrusion in the wall. You grope blindly at it in hopes of finding some mechanism or lever, but instead your hand passes over rough fabric. It reminds you of material used to make pants, oddly enough, and as you apply pressure you realize it’s covering something firm. You bring both hands together to feel the object and imagine some sort of cylinder under your palms, and as you slide them upward your fingertips skirt over a thickened edge that leads directly to something disturbingly chilled, which gives slightly under pressure. Surely it isn’t…?

An overhead light flickers on. Your hands are on a person. You’re touching their leg. What you had felt had indeed been pants. Your gaze travels upward — they’re naked from the waist up, but their body looks to be horribly mutilated. You can see multiple scars and literal patchworks of flesh that had to be stapled together, and there’s an odd device that encircles their head, like some strange visor, or VR helmet. Their skin is cold to the touch and an ashen grey color.

It’s a corpse, you finally realize. They’re dead.

Except — no, they can’t be, because they start to move.

A service alarm blares loudly as hydraulics hiss, and the body starts to careen forward out of its little pod. You stumble to the side, out of the way, only for the body to turn toward you as if possessed. Something starts to whir.

It has drills for hands.

How the fuck did you not notice that it has drills for hands?

A scream lodges in your throat as the thing advances on you, and you bolt down the hallway. To your horror, there’s rows upon rows of the holding cells, and you praise whatever deity currently watching this shitshow that none of the others seem awake.

You barrel down the hallway at full speed and throw your weight at the door. It bursts open to a wider area, and you barely stop your momentum in time to keep yourself from launching over a waist-tall guardrail. You white-knuckle the bannister as you stare below into unsettled waters.

Slowly, you lift your head. This place is big, far bigger than you ever imagined it to be — you’re in some spacious middle-ground that seems to stretch on endlessly. There’s many levels above you, too many for your panicked brain to count, and several still below you. In the distance, several conveyors transport what look to be human bodies to different parts of the factory.

You think you might throw up, or cry, or piss yourself, or all of the above; but instead you push off the rail and start running. You have to get out before you get turned into one of those things.

A large metal beam drops directly in your path, a few inches shy of crushing you, and stops you dead in your tracks. Another lands to its side, and then yet another on its opposite side, effectively blocking you from advancing.

“You should’ve told me you were gonna make a run for it!”

You turn sharply on your heel — Heisenberg. He saunters forward, cigar smoke trailing after him. In the dim lighting of the factory, you can just barely make out the smirk playing on his lips. “I said I would give you maps. You might’ve had a fighting chance, but you’re shit outta luck without them.”

How can he sound so amused? So casual? As if he isn’t any better than the lycans that prowl in the village. “Y-you’re a monster,” you hiss, though your voice lacks any of the necessary bite to truly appear angry, your feelings too warped by fear and terror.

The smirk drops from his face. The door you had just came from swings open as the creature reappears, its drills spinning menacingly. “Y’know,” Heisenberg begins, flicking ash from his cigar, “you must be pretty dumb to insult the one guy that can help you.” Loosened metal bits start to levitate as if propelled by some unseen force, Heisenberg at the center. He flicks a hand outward and one of the beams from earlier knocks into the backs of your legs and drags you closer to the creature, shortening the distance to it by more than half.

You’re trapped. You may be quick, but there’s no way you’re limber enough to dodge the creature’s drills to get to the exit behind it. One half of the walkway is completely barred off, and there’s no way you’d survive the drop into the waters below. The only option, then, is to run to Heisenberg — as if he planned it from the start.

You want to prove him wrong, you want to be the strong, self-reliant hero like in your daydreams, but you simply aren’t strong enough. This place is too strange, too twisted, and you’re too used to your life from before.

So you run to him.

You run, and you fucking trip.

You barely manage to brace your arms out in front of you in time to prevent your nose from smashing against the floor. You twist onto your back as the mechanical whirring grows louder. The manmachinemonster advances forward at a frightening pace, its mouth open in some macabre grin, and despair clutches at your heart. You crawl backward, feet sliding against the walkway as you desperately attempt to get away. Heisenberg merely watches the spectacle, leisurely puffing on his cigar.

“Please!” you cry out. “Please, I’m sorry!” You don’t have the strength to stand; you cling desperately to his pant leg as if you were a child and bury your face in the outside of his thigh, squeezing your eyes shut against your eventual demise.

He laughs and you can hear the genuine amusement in it. “Enough!” he shouts. The drills stop and the noise around you grows quiet. You stay like that, face pressed against his leg, heart in your throat, until you can gather enough courage to look.

Horrified, you watch as Heisenberg lifts the creature into the air, guided upward by the metal attachment on its head as if pulled upward by some magnet. He slings its body over the guardrails where it hovers mid-air over a deadly drop. It squirms in his invisible gasp, limbs twitching grotesquely in an attempt to find purchase, like an insect in its last moments.

Wordlessly, he lets the body plummet. You’re thankful you can’t watch it drop beyond the horizon of the walkway, thankful you can’t hear the sound of its body hitting the water below.

“You made me waste a perfectly good soldier.” His tone still sounds amiable, like he was discussing the weather, but there’s something else just bubbling under the surface. “I can’t even repurpose the materials.”

You’re still clinging to his leg, your hands fisted into the fabric of his pants. “I’m s..sorry,” you repeat again, trying not to incur his ire. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”

He tilts his head down. Between his dark shades and the way his hat casts a long shadow across his face, it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. Yet, you don’t miss the way his upper lip curls into a snarl as he speaks. “Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to run away? Or did you just not mean to get caught?”

His boot suddenly connects with your ribs, hard, and the single kick is powerful enough to send you sprawling across the floor. Your back slams against the metal guardrails, denting them with your impact. “Dumb fucking mutt,” he spits.

You can’t breathe. His kick forced all the air from your lungs, and though you aren’t sure if he damaged something important, it sure as shit feels like it. You gasp out a silent sob as you curl inward, arms wrapped protectively around your middle in an attempt to self-soothe the pain that courses through you.

His footsteps echo against the metal as he stalks forward, slow and steady. Hopelessness eats at your core — he’ll kill you. He’s held back his murderous tendencies all this time and now he’s going to kill you, he’s gonna turn you into one of those creatures and mutilate you beyond all recognition and —

He kicks you onto your back. Your ribs open and you gasp, breathing in deep as air finally fills your lungs. “Sss’rry, ‘m sor—”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He digs the heavy toe of his boot into your vulnerable stomach, pressing hard enough to guarantee an ugly bruise, and you cry out as pain shoots through your frayed nerves. He holds his foot in place to keep you in agony, and tears fall freely from your eyes, blurring your vision.

He could crush you. He could kill you. You thought he was scary, but you didn’t expect this. He’s like some mad scientist with superpowers. The lycans were one thing, but now you know you have no chance of escaping. You’re going to die here, whether by his hand or the hand of his creations.

“Please,” you beg, voice hinging on a whine. You cough and thick strings of blood dribble down your chin, mixing with your saliva. You sound absolutely pitiful, and you would be disgusted with yourself if you weren’t so fucking scared.

Heisenberg tsks softly. “Aw, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not entirely merciless.” He nudges your face with his boot. “I’ll let you make it up to me. Show me you can behave, and I’ll consider letting you live.” It hovers above your mouth, and you stare up at him through your tears, confusion evident in the scrunch of your brows. “Well?” he prompts. “Stick out that tongue of yours.”

Hesitantly, you do. Spit and blood both drool from your mouth as you part your lips and let your tongue loll out. He presses the underside of his shoe against your tongue and it clicks: he wants you to lick his boot.

Heat coils low in your abdomen as you start to drag your tongue against the leather, lapping up the grime and dirt from its surface. Copious amounts of saliva and blood dribble continuously from your mouth, enough that you can hardly taste the actual repugnant flavor of his shoe. Above, Heisenberg inhales from his cigar, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he watches you from behind his shades. It’s almost calming, in a way, so much so that you’re almost unafraid, and more like —

No. This is gross. You must have hit your head and knocked something loose, because there’s nothing sexy about this, there’s no way you like it. Fear and pleasure are closely related in the brain so maybe your body just got the signals mixed up, because there is no way this is making you wet, there’s no —

An undignified whine slips from your throat, and you hope that Heisenberg misinterprets it as something pained and sad, not as the thinly-veiled desperate noise it truly is.

His mouth curves into his trademark grin as he pulls his spit-slicked boot away. “Maybe you’ll be good for something after all,” he murmurs appraisingly.

And then, blissfully, everything turns black.

  Your head is pounding. It takes everything in you to open your eyes just a crack, but the warm lighting proves too much and you pinch them shut against the threat of tears. Your mouth feels like cotton, and yet you can taste the faint metallic twang of blood mixed with something else, something earthy. Your ribcage hurts, your stomach hurts, your everything hurts — and then you remember: the twisted corpse made of man and metal; the truth about the factory; Heisenberg, so breathtakingly mean — and you shoot up into a sitting position.

You’re in the bedroom again, legs twisted into the sheet on the bed. The door is shut, and there’s no one else in here with you. No weird creature, no Heisenberg, no one. You turn your head to scope out the whole room, and —

You fucking jingle.

Alarmed, you reach for your throat. There’s a piece of metal warped around your neck, and at its center hangs a little bell, like what you would see on a pet collar. Seeing is believing, though, so you stumble from the bed and into the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror.

Bloodshot eyes stare back at you, your face grimy and your mouth stained with blood, but it’s there. It looks like a piece of metal scrap had been twisted and beaten into a circle, then soldered together around your neck. When you shake your head, the bell jingles cheerfully in your ears.

The bastard had fucking collared you.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

.

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

.

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

.

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

.

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

.

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

.

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

.

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

.

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

.

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

[ct-multifandom]

More s4 predictions? More s4 predictions.

Luka closure, duh. He will start moving on from his breakup and start existing outside the scope of Marinette’s love life

I really hope we see Adrien hanging out with him to parallel Mari hanging with Kagami but I’m afraid the parallel might just be Mari hanging with Luka as friends

Marinette will try to give Adrien a miraculous again. Near the end of the season, she’ll realize that there are only a couple if not one miraculous left without a holder, and she’ll get overtaken by the desire to work Adrien into her team. If I had to guess which one, I’d say the dog because it juxtaposes the cat and I think Sabrina, as an outsider to the group and former mean girl lackey, might be the last to go.

We’ll meet someone’s mom for the first time and she’ll get akumatized along with a mode of transportation. Maybe a motorcycle or airplane this time? Edit: I guess Gina/Befana was motorcycle mom already so we’re just missing airplane mom

Alec Cataldi will be Psychomedian. Since they rewrote Gagotor for this I’m guessing the new character was probably replaced with one we know, and Alec is a recurring, humorous TV personality who hasn’t been akumatized yet. I came across his English VA’s insta by chance on explore and he made a post about recording more Alec lines after Optigami’s release

Rocketear will be/have to do with Max who misses his mom after she leaves for a space mission. It’d be nice to see the continuation of this subplot, which was shown for a moment in Miracle Queen after Startrain. Plus, Ladybug needs to give Max a charm sooner rather than later and Gamer, a very specific akuma, already had a 2.0. Edit: I’m Stan and I was wrong.

When Megaleech was first announced I thought it might be Bob Roth(’s sentimonster?) based solely off the name, but assuming that’s the thing in the Polymouse episode, it’s hard to tell. It’s so non-human. I wasn’t expecting Mylene to get her miraculous here based off the name either. My new theory, which I’m admittedly not super confident in, is that Megaleech is the fusion of the entire Kitty Section who got screwed over by Bob and/or XY again. That would explain the French pun and also Mylene’s personal connection to the case at hand. It might also explain why this group of heroes was hanging out outside of school. I wonder how Ladybug’s new charm animation would work with more than one charm at a time. Would they skip it altogether and just show her passing them out? Would they all match with Megaleech’s colors or would they be different for the individuals?

Edit: I am editing this post because I just saw a theory that the villain of this episode will be Andre Bourgeois again. Megaleech’s color scheme and medallions match Malediktator perfectly, and the tiny thing Chat kicks in the trailer looks like a shrunken version of him if you look closely. This is a lot more believable, but it makes me wonder what leads to Mylene being the hero of the day.

I hope Polymouse doesn’t get overshadowed by the large team, but I also hope she doesn’t get overshadowed by Multimouse. Unfortunately, there are a lot of immature kids who hate Mylene for no reason, so I hope Polymouse will be the one to come up with the winning plan, use her powers cleverly, and be heroic in general so that she can prove how well the mouse fits her instead of unknowingly competing with Marinette.

Teenage Alix will make her entrance as Bunnix when her dad gets akumatized. Both Timebreaker and The Pharaoh had time-y powers, and Alim is a historian, so if he were to get akumatized, he’d probably turn into a villain who controls time as well, leaving his daughter as the only one who can take him.

Sandboy 2.0 will happen as everyone predicted based on the voice director’s story post with Sandboy’s VA. Ladybug will probably see Chat Blanc in place of zombie Adrien, raising a lot of questions and tension. Maybe Chat will see Ladybug abandon him, or something else related to solitude rather than being trapped? We will also finally find out who the akumatized kid is.

Speaking of, I think Sandboy 2.0 might be Caprikid’s entry episode. (What?) Let me explain. I think the Sandboy kid and Marc look pretty similar, and correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure they’re the only male characters with defined eyelashes in the whole show. Both of them also have celestial thematics which would fit with Marc’s last name, Anciel (en ciel, in the sky). Sandboy looks like the night sky while Marc has a rainbow theme. It’s possible that they’re related, so Ladybug will enlist Marc to help defeat Sandboy. Here are pictures:

I’ve also seen other people theorize that Caprikid’s power is related to dreams, I guess because of something like “counting sheep”. This isn’t my theory for his powers, but I see where it’s coming from. His kwami has the most interesting name. While most of the kwamis are related directly to their animal, Ziggy, the goat kwami, is named after David Bowie’s stage persona, Ziggy Stardust, who is an alien from space. David Bowie had other famous personas like the astronaut, Major Tom, and Aladdin Sane who had the iconic lightning bolt, all themes associated with the sky. I wouldn’t be surprised if these themes show up in Caprikid’s design, like if he has face paint instead of a mask or a similar hairstyle to Bowie.

We can already kind of tell that Caprikid and Coq Courage are matching just like their civilian selves do from their opening silhouettes with the chest fur and feathers. I predict it goes further than that with daytime/nighttime thematics. Roosters are associated with the sun, and my theory for Orikko’s power is illumination. Evillustrator’s biggest weakness, which ended up defeating him, was darkness, and I read a post today that pointed out that he can draw without even looking at his tablet so it’s more likely that he’s just scared of the dark. If he has day themes I think Caprikid will compliment that with night sky themes based on the stuff above.

I expect Evillustrator will have a 2.0 episode or any sort of comeback at some point. He’s probably one of the most iconic akumas, yet he’s only been truly akumatized once, at least on-screen. Plus, ladybug needs to get protective charms to all her hero pals asap.

We will probably meet the family of a couple more major characters who don’t have canon family members yet.

I hope we see more more-than-one-person and/or fusion akumas among the major cast. The protective charms are helpful but it sucks that they limit our possibilities for this type of stuff.

Sabrina will leave Chloe once and for all, which will trigger a big change in both of their characters. Sabrina will become more independent and leader-like, but Chloe will hit her lowest point. If not for... a certain person’s writing... I’d say this will be the true catalyst for her development as she faces cold hard reality for the first time... but I’m not so sure. Maybe she’ll just mellow down and become less bad and less relevant. Maybe she’ll snap and join evil Lila. Only time can tell.

I want to see my boy King Monkey again this season before the big finale, which will probably have everyone, and I’m pretty sure I will. I feel like they’ll all show up before that. I want him to move across the city by swinging across stuff like a monkey on vines.

We will finally see Ryuko’s full transformation and lightning dragon. I saw that the Roblox server thing featured the (oversimplified and blocky) coreo for her full transformation before the actual show did? A bit embarrassing.

I want to predict something for my boy Ivan, but he gets so little screen time that I just can’t think of anything :( I’m very excited for Minotaurox, though, and it’s possible that he’ll be involved with his family rather than Mylene or his friends.

The whole gang takes down Shadowmoth. Booyah, 17 teenage furries, bet he didn’t see that coming. And everyone has a big “pointing and laughing” moment until the obligatory Adrien angst commences

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner 

[bestiesenpai]

Idolatry - Getou Suguru

I love aliens and someday I will fuck one

Content warnings: manipulation/blackmail

“Mayday, mayday! Mission control, please come in, this is astronaut Getou Suguru!” The red emergency lights were on, multiple different sirens were going off in the background and Getou had just lost the rest of his crew.

“Mission control, can you hear me?!” He slammed on the control panel, desperately flipping switches and trying to regain control of his failing aircraft. All his training back on Earth hadn’t prepared him for the possibility of a black hole opening up and sucking in half his ship, ripping it apart and taking it somewhere unknown.

“Please, please, please!” There were frantic tears and sweat dripping down Getous face as he tried to get the thrusters back online. His ship was in shambles, slipping further and further into the blackhole.

Looking up through the windshield, his view of space before him was slowly fading away and he felt an intense pull from behind him, almost as if he was being ripped apart himself as he and his ship were pulled into the blackhole.

Getou didn’t think he’d wake up after that. The world had gone completely black, all the oxygen yanked from his body and the cold vacuum of space compressed around him. Getou hadn’t expected to wake up on firm, solid ground. And much less surrounded by otherworldly creatures.

“Is it really him?” He wasn’t sure how he understood the things before him, their voices warbled and distorted, but he could. Getou could only watch with fuzzy edged vision as the creatures crowded around him and their features became clearer.

“It must be! Just look at his face!”

“He’s got the hair as well, and his skin is milky white like in the stories!”

“Our God has returned to us, what a joyous day this is!” Someone cried and Getou was lifted up from the ground and removed from the rubble that was his spaceship. Struggling to breathe, he was sure there were a few cracked ribs under his skin.

“Be gentle now, the journey from the heavens wasn’t kind on him.”

“To the temple, at once!”

Placed on a long gurney, Getou was transported to the temple in question. With his vision going in and out, he could just barely make out the bright blue trees and foreign animal sounds passing him by. The creatures that had lifted him up were now closer to be viewed and Getou could tell they weren’t of human origin.

“Oh, how we’ve waited for this day!” The heat of whatever jungle Getou was in had a light sheen of sweat gathering on his skin, but the warm air helped lull him into a more relaxed state, almost falling asleep despite the situation.

Carried up the steps of the temple, Getou barely came to when he was stripped and submerged into a pool of light green water, nearly scalding him and scented with what appeared to be rose petals floating around him.

“Call the shamans, we need to make sure everything is correct!” There was rustling around him, figures darting in and out of his half lidded gaze. Someone was lifting one of his arms to wash him, immediately letting go when he let out a pained groan.

“He needs medicine, quick!” In an instant something was being poured down Getous throat, an ice cold liquid that spread across his body and made a shiver go through him. There was a heavy silence in the air for a moment as he was observed, and all of a sudden, he felt better.

Sitting up a little straighter in the solid gold tub he could now see, Getou stayed silent as his body was washed. The creatures around him avoided eye contact, bowing their heads when he turned to look at them.

They were gentle, washing the dried blood off Getous face and combing through his hair with their long pointed nails. He’d never received such lavish treatment before, and as he relaxed further into the tub, a man dressed in robes not unlike the ones Getou owned back home came to the side of the tub with a heavy tome, reciting something in an unknown language over Getou.

He was lifted out of the tub and dried gently, dressed in a soft green robe like the man that had prayed over him, and escorted to another room. He could tell this was at the heart of the giant gray stone temple, a skylight and large windows high on the vaulted ceilings letting in plenty of natural light and illuminating the lavish scene in the middle of the room.

In the middle of the room atop a short flight of stairs, sat a golden, red tufted stool only a few feet up from the ground and surrounded by a multitude of pillows and ornate gold decorations. Several oriental rugs were draped across the floor, covering the cool limestone underfoot.

A thick mattress lay just behind the stool with semi-sheer curtains curtains concealing it and the many pillows and blankets atop it. Hundreds of candles were lit around the room as well, lighting up dark corners or simply for decoration around and atop the rugs and stool.

Able to walk on his own now, Getou slowly went up the steps with only a mild drag in his sore legs. Skimming his fingers across the seat of the stool, he walked past it and to the bed, pushing the curtains aside and melting into the squishy mattress.

Even though he couldn’t really keep track of the time, Getou was sure a week had passed since he’d crash landed on this mysterious planet. In that time, he filled in the blanks of what was going on around him.

He was being worshipped as a God, an altruistic being that had fallen from the heavens as foretold in the legends of the people that lived here. Apparently, he was one of many gods and goddesses that the planet believed in, and it just so happened that his sudden appearance aligned with a prophecy that he would arrive.

Not one to live in a lie, Getou had originally wanted to tell the truth once he was able to speak more properly. It wouldn’t be right for them to place such strong faith into him when he truly wasn’t what they wanted, but he found it harder and harder as time went on.

And that was because of the treatment he received. He was bathed everyday, fed delicious meals whenever he wanted and was showered in praise and admiration at every second. To say Getou was soaking up all the attention was an understatement; he was absolutely drowning in it.

“My Lord, may I approach?” It was midday, the sun beaming down through the ceiling directly onto Getou, warming him up and making him radiate with light. A temple worker he’s never seen before enters the room, head bowed and with a familiar set of objects in their hand.

“You may.” Getou quickly noticed the basin, towel and pitcher of water and sat up a little straighter in his stool. It was time for his midday foot bath. You made quick work of the steps and knelt down before him in a moment.

Getou watched as you silently poured the water, keeping your head bowed per usual. Craning his head up to the sky, Getou lazily studied the windows above him. There were no clouds in the sky on this planet, but it didn’t stop the sky from looking beautiful.

“You’re quite handsome, my Lord.” That comment had Getou’s head snapping back down and coming eye to eye with you. No one else had ever made eye contact with him, not even the shamans that spoke with him about sacred texts. The sudden change unnerved him, making him blush.

“I didn’t know you were allowed to look upon me in such a way.” Getou said, dipping his feet into the bath and relaxing his legs. “I am a God, after all. Wouldn’t a comment like that be considered blasphemous?” Regaining control over his suddenly rapid heartbeat, Getou still felt a light veil of heat across his face.

“It would be, if you really were a God in the first place.” Getou nearly choked on his spit as he heard the words come out of your mouth.

“E-excuse me?! I am a God!” His face erupted in a dark blush. This was bad, really bad. The smirk on your face told him all he needed to know; the jig was up, you saw right through him. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try and keep up the ruse.

“An arrival from the sky may have been foretold in the legends, but you are not what was promised to us.” Your words were quick and concise, an almost harsh tone underlying them. “It was my job to go through the rubble of the craft you arrived in, and I found quite a few things labeled from a planet called ‘Earth’.”

He and Gojo just had to have too much fun with the label maker, didn’t they?

“Earth is what us God's call the place we reside.” Clearing his throat, Getou tried to soothe his burning cheeks.

“Then why did I find this?” Digging into a hidden pocket within your robes, you pulled out a thick manuscript, personally typed and signed by Getou outlining his position within the team and the duties he’d fulfill while on the mission that ultimately brought him here.

The edges of the paper were all burnt and crispy, but most of the pages were still intact. Flipping through them, you showed him all the polaroid pictures that were stuffed inside of Getou in his space suit and at the control panels of the ship, and with Gojo and other crew members.

“I didn’t think a God would carry around so many papers about his job. I thought you just knew.” Tossing the manuscript to the floor, you sprinkled smelling salts into the water and grabbed onto one of Getou’s feet, raising it only slightly as you let him mull over the new information before him.

“So, I assume you’ll have me killed for lying, then?” There was a heavy pit sitting in his stomach, but Getou knew this day would come, it was only a matter of when.

“Kill you? Never!” Your sudden laugh gave him pause.

“Then what? What will happen to me now?”

“I intend to use this information to my advantage.”

“You want to use me to climb the ranks at the temple, don’t you?” Narrowing his eyes, Getou could already see the plan formulating behind your eyes.

“Precisely, my Lord. Over the course of a few months, I will become your most trusted advisor.” Letting go of his foot, your hand slid up Getou’s leg, your pointed nails scraping against his skin. “And before the anniversary of the sun’s return, I will be the highest shaman in the temple. Your right hand, if you may.”

As you spoke, your hand went higher and higher, skimming the edges of his long silken robe and going under it, cupping his knee for a moment before stopping midthigh. If anyone walked in right now, what would they say to the scene in front of them?

“What’s in it for me?” Getou shuddered as your nails dragged lightly along his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake that had his senses tingling. You flashed him a smile, one full of rows of shiny black teeth.

“Why, you get to remain the all powerful God of this land, bestowing wisdom upon the subjects that worship you.” Sidling up to Getous legs, you fully pushed apart his robes to reveal his soft cock. “And…”

“And?” Getou pressed as you trailed off, subtly opening his legs as much as he could with his feet still in the basin. You chuckled at him, hand grabbing gently onto the base of his cock. Getou had come to learn that the creatures on this planet were often colder than he was, and your lukewarm hand was a testament to that.

“And I’ll keep you nice and happy.” Brazenly leaning over his lap, you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth, your long tongue lapping out and wrapping around him, the tip going all the way down to his balls.

“Ah!” The unexpected pleasure shooting up his spine made Getou curl inward, knocking over the basin and spilling water onto the rugs. His hand shot out to grasp the back of your head, urgently trying to ground himself as his mind turned to mush.

“Don’t worry about the mess, my Lord. I’ll clean it up.” Pulling off his cock, you licked your lips and looked over your shoulders.

“You- what’s your name?” Getou panted, his legs already starting to tremble.

“(Y/N), my Lord.” You grinned, beginning to slowly jerk off his cock.

“(Y/N).” He tested the name on his tongue but he couldn’t speak any further as you thumbed the tip of his cock.

“But you don’t need to worry yourself about that now.” Now that his feet were free, you could slide in between Getou’s legs and get to his cock easier. “Right now, it’s all about you.”

[dastardlydandelion]

So...what kind of horror movie would you write featuring the Hargrove/ Mayfield family? (That you haven't written already lol)

oh boy, u may regret asking me this bc i am indecisive af and i can’t pick just one!

two that i'm actually writing are max as (g is for) ghostface killer in the abcs of neil’s death and also the max + tory nichols werewolf movie fic outlined here. also some more misc gorror junk bc i’m a demon and esp horny for susan wearing blood splatter. but more ideas commence below:

horror movie #1: another creature feature! awhile back @lucdarling sent me an ask abt max + billy hiding smth from susan and her like, playing along, pretending she doesn't know, and one of the scenarios that popped in my head was them keeping a baby bat as a pet. max finds it and she’s only like six or seven, and she thinks it’s going to turn into a vampire. so here is that scenario except horror edition: baby bat is actually a vampire type creature. not rly a vampire like, what’s prolly popping into ur head, like an undead human like dracula or smth, but like a bat monster that sucks blood.

billy being a lil older doesn’t actually think the bat is going to turn into a vampire. he makes fun of max for believing this, but he helps her take care of it anyway bc he thinks it’s cool. susan, like in the non-horror version, knows abt the bat but plays dumb bc she’s feeling a lot of guilt abt max’s difficulty adjusting to the blended fam (as of rn tho, neil has yet to reveal his abusive nature. the red flags are not yet red, more of a brownish maroon, and he is on his best behavior almost all the time, showering susan + max with affection and keeping the swears out of his mouth when he scolds billy in front of them) and knows the lil furry baby makes her happy. she tacitly cleans up after the bat whenever the kids miss a spot (bats poop a lot, dude) and distracts neil, deterring him from discovering it whenever he gets close.

baby bat gets rly big rly fast. and the older it gets, the more it starts to look monstrous. it still has bat features but it’s just like, different. its fangs grow suspiciously long, its hooks grow suspiciously long. its feet are elongated. a dorsal ridge emerges from its spine, spikes at first just flesh but soft fur rather like peach fuzz eventually sprouting. billy catches on that smth is strange abt this animal when it's as long as his forearm after two wks and still growing. he nearly shits a brick when the bat is clinging to his sweater one day and he steps in front of a mirror and only his reflection looks back at him— no bat.

max laughs at him all like, “stupid brother, ofc there’s no reflection. nosferatu is a vampire, vampires don’t have reflections.” 😂

susan catches a glimpse of the thing when nosferatu crawls out of the home max built it in her closet the same wk billy realizes it doesn’t have a reflection, and also almost shits a brick. she doesn’t know what it is, but it’s NOT a fucking bat. not a normal one, anyway! cue a comedy scene where she’s chasing it around the house with a butterfly net and it’s always one flap *ba dum tss* ahead of her, flying just out of reach. she suddenly regrets not getting rid of it sooner, scolding herself for ever allowing her daughter to keep a wild animal.

she can’t catch it. max comes home, susan tells her she needs to get rid of it. max cries, flips her the bird, refuses. billy tho…billy has mixed feelings. he loves nosferatu but he’s worried it’s going to get dangerous. he loves his dad and his dad is dangerous too. he’s stressed out enough, always on edge, knowing that one way or the other, neil is going to hurt him again. he’s already waiting for his dad to hurt him, he doesn’t need the added stress of waiting for nosferatu to hurt him too. and while max is 100% nosferatu’s favorite, it likes billy too. billy’s been handling it since it could fit in the palm of his hand, it trusts him much more than it trusts susan and doesn’t know any different when billy takes it out of the closet when max isn’t around.

billy frees nosferatu at an abandoned farm. there are always bats flying out of the old silo adjacent to the dilapidated barn. while he knows nosferatu isn’t a *normal* bat, it’s still bat like enough that he thinks it might make friends and be happy here…

yeah, that doesn’t stick. before long, nosferatu is feasting on that colony. leeches the blood out of a couple bats nightly. the number of bats increases with nosferatu’s size. meanwhile, max mourns her missing friend. she’s sullen af and won’t speak to susan at all. she thinks susan is the one who got rid of nosferatu. billy never fesses up and susan doesn’t contradict max’s assumption bc she wants the step-siblings to get along.

neil, meanwhile, is getting more comfortable. those maroon flags are slowly but surely brightening to scarlet. he starts sabotaging susan’s plans with her friends, trying to keep her around the house more and more, quietly but steadily eroding her relationships with other people. he’s getting more visibly aggressive when he disciplines billy. he curses him out with a virulent venom that dunks susan’s stomach in ice water and scares max so badly, she runs to susan and hides behind her even though she’s still so mad that susan got rid of her beloved baby vampire.

nosferatu’s appetite surpasses what the bat colony can offer. it’s like the size of a ten yr old human child now. fucker’s big. it doesn’t just have fangs on top, but tusks on bottom. it can’t go out in the sunlight anymore, the sun sears its flesh. it misses max a lot and before, it wasn’t strong enough to fly back to her house. but now it is. it’s extremely strong, actually.

so bc it's hungry, nosferatu grabs a snack along the way. some nameless rando, it swoops down and sucks dry. nourished and much happier, nosferatu makes its way back home. patiently waits outside of max’s bedroom in the moonlight, tapping its hook against the window until she wakes up. initially max is a lil startled— nosferatu looks so different, there’s a beat before she recognizes it— him?? yk, ig it’s male, the og nosferatu was a guy. sure, why not, nosferatu is a boy now.

once she realizes who it is, she is so! happy! max opens the window and embraces her friend. she isn’t freaked out by the blood on its fangs. she’s always known nosferatu is a vampire, albeit, she was thinking he’d look more like dracula than this bat-monster-thingy.

nosferatu moves back into max’s closet. it hangs upside-down from her rod by its weird, elongated feet. we get more shots of nosferatu sucking rando ppl dry at night, tho he remains gentle with max. when max drags billy in to show her he came back, nosferatu is less friendly with him. he’s not aggressive with billy, but he is standoffish. nosferatu’s thought process is somewhere between human and animal. he doesn’t quite cognitively understand that billy took him to the farm with the intent of getting rid of him, but he does understand that the last time he clung to billy, billy left him alone and never came back. max puts two and two together, and realizes it was billy who “stole” her friend. she yells at him a lot, he yells back, she then ices him out.

billy acts out bc he’s upset. runs away, thinks he’s going to find his mom…the cops find him first and call neil. neil is rly embarrassed and pissed abt the whole thing. he breaks down and beats billy in front of the mayfields for the first time. nosferatu smells the blood and it’s time for the main event! we love dead!neil, yes, we do.

nosferatu flies out the closet and right into the living room where billy’s bleeding and teary but biting his lip so they don’t actually fall. susan’s covering max’s eyes but so shocked and tbh, FRIGHTENED, she doesn’t move a muscle beyond that. neil’s got the belt raised, preparing to bring it down again, and nosferatu smashes right into him. neil stumbles, turns back to see this freaky monster looking thing. proceeds to whip the belt at nosferatu. tries to fight him off with the belt and it doesn’t accomplish much beyond pissing him off more— nosferatu, like most classic vampire types, has a healing factor!

max rips her mom’s hands off her face in time to see her pet sink its fangs into her stepdad’s throat. nosferatu sucks neil dry. billy’s a little dazed, not quite frightened. susan is just dead ass frozen, too scared to scream, even. nosferatu crawls over to billy and nudges at him, making sure he’s in once piece and forgiving him in the same go. max darts over and that snaps susan out of her stupor, but she isn’t as fast as our blood-sucking bat monster.

nosferatu stretches his wings out and with a truly impressive wingspan, hugs both of the kids. <3

horror movie #2: a haunting! this one opens with a bang. it’s a tragic horror, beware. we’re in hawkins post s3. billy died at starcourt mall. neil’s obvi had a longstanding abusive mindset and abusive behavior, but he rly takes his grief out on susan and max. mostly susan. she does her best to protect max however she can, whether that means shielding her w her body, sending her out of the house, getting neil’s goat to inspire his ire in max’s place, etc. but sue simply isn’t around all the time and when she isn’t, but max is, well. yk.

one day neil comes home early (bc he lost his job for a violent outburst, tbh) and discovers susan packing a suitcase.

sue fights hard. she rly does. but neil is bigger, heavier, crueler, and to boot, he caught her completely unawares. he kills her. and no, no it’s not some accidental thing where neil makes one bad move rage-blind. he strangles her with his belt. she’s clawing at his arms and making these horrible choked, trapped animal noises. thrashes and twists her body with everything she has trying to get him off but he’s so strong, his grip is unrelenting, and she's growing weaker, lightheaded with the lack of oxygen. strangulation can induce incontinence and when susan blacks out, her piss streams to the hardwood— neil hears that as much as he felt the clawing and heard the noises, even now he could stop, but he doesn’t. he just. doesn’t think his wife has the right to leave him, esp not after his son just did.

neil burns the body and the suitcase in the woods while max is at school. max has been spending as much time as she can (and often with sue’s prompting) outside of the house, so it actually takes her about two days to realize her mother isn’t around. neil tells a pretty convincing story about how susan abandoned them, voice saturated with apology and sorrow. he takes her out for a fancy dinner and promises he’s going to be a better father-- that being a better father is the least he can do now that her mother abandoned her and they are alone in their grief.

max doesn’t know what to think. she’s been preoccupied with her own grief and pain. she finds it hard to believe her mother would just leave her to neil’s wrath. she has a lot of hangups with susan and anger toward her for marrying neil and not getting them out sooner, but she’s also old enough to realize there would be risks involved with that. it’s hard to reconcile the memory of her mother just last wk pinning max to the wall to protect her from neil’s blows with her own bod just abruptly taking off without a word in the middle of the night. but hey, maybe that’s why susan left. maybe she got sick of protecting her, maybe the pain got to be too much and she turned tail.

but also…it’s early october now, abt three months after billy’s death but still fairly warm outside. yet neil is wearing long sleeves. neil never used to button his collared shirts all the way up, and yet. every collar is buttoned. also, mom’s car is still here. why would mom leave without her car?

that ceramic pelican she loved so much is still here too, on the mantle in the living room. it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she would leave behind, she's had it since max was a baby.

max almost wants to believe neil because she’d rather her mother abandoned her than be dead somewhere, rotting in a storage locker or a hole in the ground. under the earth with the worms, just like billy. max has the worst feeling low in the pit of her gut. she thinks she knows the truth. she thinks abt going to hopper and hesitates bc she’s not sure she could handle it if he actually found smth. or what would happen to her if he did, where she would be sent, who she would end up with.

this movie would be more on the ambiguous end of things. an arthouse horror, if u will.

the days turn into wks and neil is crawling in his skin. the viewer isn’t sure if the shadows he’s seeing, always, always susan-shaped shadows, are of a ghostly nature or if he’s just hallucinating out of guilt. but the signs gradually point to the former— that smth paranormal is indeed going on. bc those scratches and bite marks susan left in his skin?

they do not heal. they do not get infected. they do not become necrotic. but they do not heal, either. days turn into wks and the wounds still look fresh, like she just left them moments ago. neil can’t wear light colors anymore because his wounds weep red into the fabric. he isn’t just seeing susan’s shadows either, he’s smelling her.

he washes his sheets and pillowcases a dozen times and the scent of her shampoo, her lotion, it’s like it’s woven into the fibers. he walks into the hallway and chokes on the aroma of susan’s perfume. he wonders if max is screwing with him, if max figured it out and she’s trying to torture him into a confession. one day he stomps off to max's bedroom, furious, adamant on confronting her. he grabs her doorknob, prepared to yank it open and then lets out a yelp, jerking his hand back with a sudden sharp pain.

it feels like a bee sting (which would be esp bad for this fucker in anything i write, bc i headcanon him as being allergic). but there’s no stinger. no injury. nothing. neil is freaked out enough that he backs down.

max, on the other hand, is getting gentler signs. when she turns the radio dial in the camaro, it’s somehow always her mom’s favorite songs that come thru the speakers. when she goes to pull clothes out of her drawers in the morning, she discovers that the things she’d just shoved inside in wrinkled balls are perfectly folded, neat as a pin, exactly like how susan always folded. susan was always fond of cardinals and suddenly max is seeing cardinals, pretty red cardinals, in just abt erry tree and shrub.

neil wakes up one night to his wife’s voice whispering “boo” right in his ear. he throws the covers off and discovers ashes in the bed. he doesn’t smell susan’s shampoo or lotion anymore, he smells the kerosine he’d poured all over her body.

his wounds still won’t heal. whenever he looks in the mirror, he catches a glimpse of susan walking past behind him, peering at him from her peripheral. he whips around, heart hammering, but there’s never any tangible person there.

max is almost certain her mother is dead at this point. neil’s been so bizarrely nice to her lately. she never believed in ghosts but her experiences with the upside-down broadened her perception of reality. she doesn’t know how else to explain the songs, the cardinals, the folded clothes. the way that these days, whenever she does feel fear toward neil, it just fades away. her fear melts like popsicles in the sun, immediately replaced by the sensation of a warm, maternal hug, as if arms she can’t see are trying to reassure her she truly doesn’t need to be afraid of him anymore.

in fact, max feels so unafraid of neil and brave, that one night she calls him out on it. he’s grizzled and unshaven in his recliner, beer in hand. she steps in front of the television he’s vacantly fixated on and folds her arms across her chest.

“you killed my mom, didn’t you?”

quick as a flash, neil leaps to his feet. he brings his arm back like he’s going to strike her and susan’s ceramic pelican on the mantle explodes into shards. the lights flicker, the television program cuts to snow with a static roar. every other knickknack on the mantle rattles and framed photos tumble off the wall.

neil very wisely lowers his hand. he slumps, boneless. he doesn’t say a word. max sees the answer in his eyes. it’s the dead of night and she snatches the camaro keys off the hook, marching out of the house, slamming the door behind her. it’s the dead of night and she doesn’t care. she’s going to blow past every stop sign and pound on the chief’s door until he opens up. and fuck, i just realized if this is post s3 he’s supposed to be in russia. shit. i don’t watch this show, but i know abt russia bc i DID watch the clips of that demogorgon that i rly hope isn’t stuck in captivity!! okay, but let’s pretend that didn’t happen?

it’s an au?? i mean, errything i write is always technically an au anyway, bc when i write stuff susan has an actual personality and billy isn’t *completely* abhorrent. okay, so it’s an au and mr. hopper didn’t blow up and un-blow up in russia. he’s still here. so max drives to his house.

she pounds on the door so hard this guy snaps outta bed, thinking someone’s trying to bust it down. she tells him neil confessed to killing her mom. it isn’t true, exactly, but he didn’t have to. so it’s a helluva grim drive back to cherry lane, this time in the cop car.

but when they go inside, chief prepared to arrest neil, no need. neil’s hanging from the belt he strangled susan with, shirtless for the first time since that night, erry seemingly fresh furrow and bite mark on full display. below his dangling feet is a map, the area he burned susan’s corpse in circled in red marker. did he kill himself or did the ghost do it?

up to u, we soundlessly cut to credits without a concrete answer to that question.

horror movie #3: crossover special! stranger things meets the chilling adventures of sabrina. sequel to that fic i wrote where susan makes out with lilith, queen of hell, and lilith kills neil for her. sue officially joins the church of lilith. bc in this ‘verse the church of lilith actually happens after caos s2 instead of the nonsense that was s3 and the inconceivably godawful migraine-inducing shit-fest that was s4.

killing neil was lilith’s only freebee. susan isn’t a witch, she’s a mortal, so in order to reap the other rewards of worshipping the one and only mother of demons, she has to fornicate with the witches and participate in the sacrifices!!!

this is, uh, well. it’s p much a porno, dude, sorry. 😅

this is just an excuse for susan to have sex with lilith, zelda, marie, hilda, big witch orgies + susan. witches bathing in the blood of their sacrifices, susan so nervous and timid but unable to deny her desire. the witch’s dressing her in their gothic garb.

how does the rest of the fam get it on this?

max joins the church too. she has more age-appropriate conduct with sabrina and the weird sisters, and what have you. just smooches and over-the-clothes groping, and whatnot, even tho the weird sisters, at least, would be interested in going further if given the opportunity.

billy dies in starcourt again, so he gets revived in the cain pit! hilda is the one who goes to him after bc she’s been in the cain pit many a time (i am still BIG side-eyeing zelda for repeatedly murdering her sister since childhood). hilda understands how jarring it can be to come back. suddenly alive!billy is freaking tf out but she brings him inside the mortuary, wraps him up in a big blanket burrito and they have a talk. hilda explains that he’s going to be okay and rubs his back while he tentatively sips the hot chocolate she made.

after billy’s calmed down, she brings max and susan in. max and susan can’t do as much magic as the caos witches— they’re mortals, after all, it’s not in their nature —but they’ve gained some abilities thru being in the church, following the rituals, and being carnally involved with the immortal witches. max happily shows him some of her new magic tricks.

horror movie #4: another crossover with caos. heavily inspired by creepshow episode s2e1, model kid (which i already v blatantly referenced in the last axe snafu update and i’m not ashamed, bc it’s a good series i love v much).

billy picks max up from the byers’ place rly late one night. it’s dark and the weather is bad and okay, yeh, he might be a little high. and a little concussed. he pissed neil off pretty bad the other day and okay, actually he’s defo concussed bc he doesn’t even remember what he did wrong!

needless to say, they take a wrong turn somewhere. they end up in greendale. at first max is pissed. she yells at him a lot! yells so loud hilda can hear them thru the walls of dr. cerberus’s comic shop/diner. she goes outside to see what all the fuss is abt, hilda never rly ignores youth in need. we love hilda, she deserved so much better…i’m getting distracted, okay, back to the story.

hilda ushers them inside. max is like, “ooh, comics? horror junk and comics? nvm, i’m not mad anymore.” she pats billy’s arm and wanders away to go check stuff out! hilda makes billy sit down. caos canon established that she’s psychic, at least when she wants to be. she smells the weed but she also sees his life, his trauma. billy doesn’t remember what he did to piss neil off or the abuse that followed, but hilda sees it clear as day.

he’s rude and cranky w her when she probes a little too much for his liking. hilda gently but firmly reprimands him and gets him a milkshake on this house. then she goes to check on max. she steers max to a v particular section of the shop, the one that sells model kits. now, max isn’t *huge* into model kits BUT they are p neat and she enjoys them well enough. more so when the weather is nasty and she can’t go outside. or when she needs smth to do with her hands (a trait she shares w susan) to distract herself and ease some of the anxiety when she hears her brother being beaten or her mother being shouted at.

max is actually rly impressed by the array of models. vintage ones and newer ones. monsters, slashers, final girls, tiny accessories like knives and bloodied heads. but when she gets to the paint-your-own shelf, her jaw drops to the floor.

there’s one that looks just like neil. unpainted, plain gray vinyl, but undoubtedly her stepdad. the expression on the five inch figurine is one frozen in fear.

“i think that one’s calling to you,” hilda prompts her, with the softest smile.

max blinks away her bewilderment altho she still can’t speak. she turns to hilda and turns her empty pockets inside out. hilda just waves her hand. she tells her it’s on the house. that it wouldn’t be fair if she gave billy smth on the house, but not max.

speaking of billy, when he finishes his milkshake, he’s suddenly totally sober and healed!! no more high buzzing in his blood. no more pounding headache or concussion fogging his mind. he doesn’t feel his bruises anymore, rolls his sleeve up, and realizes they simply aren’t there anymore. like they dissolved off his skin.

albeit it’s muttered under his breath, but billy does thank hilda. then he and max are on their way. max shows him the suspiciously familiar figurine in the box. this night cannot get weirder.

max knows what to do with the model kit. she does. she isn’t sure how she knows, but she does. she grapples with it for a long time. neil’s the closest thing she has to a dad these days. and things aren’t bad all the time, ofc.

sometimes neil gives max a ride when mom and billy aren’t available. sometimes he brings her ice cream entirely unprompted. neil’s the one who picks max up off the sidewalk when she wipes out super bad on her skateboard, carries her inside and then later to the car when her cut doesn’t stop bleeding and she ends up needing stitches.

but most of the time he sucks. she can’t rly be herself around him. he's indifferent to her interest at best, scornful at worst. he would hate all her friends. he scares the shit out of her when he’s angry. he doesn’t have a problem belittling her mother in front of her, tearing susan to shreds and making her out like she’s lower than dirt, the most worthless person on the planet. doesn’t have a problem beating billy in front of her or glaring at her with the promise that she’ll be next if she dares to voice her dissent.

max doesn’t always want to do what she knows she’s meant to do with the model. bc she's kind at heart and bc on the good days, she genuinely does have mixed feelings toward neil. never enough to hope he'll be better, he's proven he won't...but maybe enough to hope he won't get worse, either.

then comes the night neil breaks ribs. bad, like we’re talking, a-sharp-spear-of-broken-rib-punctures-billy’s-lung-and-he’s-coughing-up-blood-bad. that’s a trip to the emergency room. in the days that follow, at her next dnd meeting w the party, max places the fully and attentively painted model of her stepdad on the table. normally her pals would protest her derailing the intended game, but they can sense it, yk, that smth is different.

max takes over as dungeon master to the protest of no one, all other mouths sealed as if bewitched and spellbound. she narrators a scene where the demogorgon devours neil and uses the demogorgon piece and the model for demonstration.

when max returns home, neil is strewn across the house in gory chunks and torn wallpaper curls around massive claw marks.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

WATCH OUT

(PLEASE DON’T REBLOG!)

Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.

Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Aang, Katara, Toph, Sokka.

Requested: Yes!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: Part three of “destiny is a funny thing”

find part two here!

A/N: Hullo! i’m back to blow your minds again, lol. The request for this came within, like, five minutes of posting the last part. So thanks to @zvkonation​. I’m glad you guys seem to enjoy it. I hope this part will be to your liking. Altough i think it’s a bit of a mess haha.

“Hello, Zuko here!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered upon the sight of him. Team Avatar formed a half-circle, ready to fight.

You hadn’t seen him since the battle in the Crystal Catacombs, and you’d wanted it to stay that way. After his betrayal it took some time to look ahead. To stop dwelling on it and accept that it was over. Of course you had to tell the others what had happened at some point. And you did. From the fight with Jet, to their false identities, and about the tea shop. Everything but the fact that you harbored feelings for their worst enemy.

“I heard you guys flying around down there, so... I just thought i’d wait for you here,” No one responded. No one but Appa, whose gigantic tongue greeted the prince one second later. Zuko groaned at the caress, but he didn’t reject it. “I know you must be surprised to see me here,”

“Not really, since you followed us all over the world,” Sokka answered defensively, already reaching for his weapon.

“Right... Well uh... Anyway. What i wanted to tell you about is that i’ve changed, and i’m good now. And, well, i think i should join your group. Oh! and i can teach firebending to the Avatar,” He continued.

Changed. There it was again. The gaang remained silent, not giving up their fighting stances. Now the Air Temple could become a war zone at any second.

“You wanna, what now?” Toph was the first one to recover. Her face was scrunched up, black strands dangling in front of her forehead. "We all know what happened the last time you 'changed'," You sneered, raising your hands. "(Y/N), please-," This time he was the one pleading, but you wouldn't have it. You didn't want to waste any more time with him. "Save your explanation for someone who cares!" Flames appeared in your palms, burning from within.

“You can’t possibly think that any of us would trust you, can you? I mean how stupid do you think we are?” Katara wasn’t acting any calmer than in their last encounter. And rightfully so. You’d witnessed the conflict firsthand and empathised with her pain. Both of you had fallen for his trap at the same time.

“Yeah, all you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang,” Sokka threw in. “And besides, (Y/N) is a fire bender. She can teach him,” You pursed your lips, but remained silent. He was right. You could teach Aang. But would that truly be enough? You doubted it. All your techniques were mainly made up from watching other fire benders in your childhood. You’d never had a real teacher. If you were honest to yourself, Zuko was probably the better choice. But the risk of him killing your student made up for it.

“I’ve done some good things! I helped (Y/N) after she got attacked by Jet! Right?” The prince argued, gesturing wildly. He caught your gaze, hoping for some kind of support. But he was met with indifference. "You didn't even know that I was with the Avatar back then," You argued, growing more impatient by the second. Zuko quickly came up with another story. “I could’ve stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but i set him free! That's something,” The animal proceeded to lick him again, growling fondly.

“Appa does seem to like him,” The earth-bender said, relaxing her stance slightly. Her features softened. “He probably just covered himself in honey or something, so that Appa would lick him. I’m not buying it!” Sokka declined, making a cutting motion through the air, to underline his statement.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me. And i know i’ve made some mistakes in the past,” Zuko acknowledged, lowering his gaze. The slight breeze tugged at his garments. For the first time since you’d known him, he wore Fire Nation clothing. The ruby red, mixed with gold and black, revealed his true heritage. His was a simple robe, instead of the royal attire you would’ve expected. Just like yours.

“Like when you attacked our village?” Your friend asked, sarcastically. “Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” His sister balled her fists, barely able to hold back. “Or when you betrayed us in the Catacombs?” You hissed.

Seeing him again was unbearable. Unbelievable. It was like the past came back to haunt you all over again. Every time you looked at him, it reminded you of the horror you'd faced. Of Aang dying in your arms. And he just wouldn’t stop trying. “Look, i admit i’ve done some awful things. I was wrong to try to capture you and to betray you. I’m sorry that i attacked the water tribe. And i never should’ve send that Fire Nation Assassin after you. I’m going to try to stop-,”

“Wait! You sent Combustion-Man after us?” One sibling interrupted, his voice getting a few octaves higher. Your eyes widened. The others seemed no less shocked, than you. Just when you’d thought it couldn’t get any worse... It did. “Well, that’s not his name, but-” Zuko tried to explain, but clearly focused on the wrong point. “Oh, sorry, i didn’t mean to insult your friend,” Sokka scoffed, holding up his boomerang. Now there was one more reason not to trust him. How many more would he add? You weren’t eager to find out. “He’s not my friend!” The fire bender exclaimed, bewildered. “That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Toph pointed an accusatory finger at him. He lowered his eyes, closing them briefly.

You said nothing, only staring at him, until he looked up. “(Y/N)...” He tried, his eyes softening, but you shook your head. He looked terribly lost. So lost that you almost believed him. But where love once was now resided resentment and anger. His lies were revolting. You wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He redirected his attention to Aang. “You once said you thought we could be friends. You know i have good in me,” Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sokka shake his head at him.

“There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us,” The Avatar decided. “You need to get out of here. Now!” The water bender ordered, her locks framing her face like a thundercloud. “I’m trying to explain that i’m not that person anymore!” His desperate tone made your heart clench. You had to look away.

“Either you leave, or we attack!” Sokka stepped forward, boomerang gripped tightly.

Zuko sunk to his knees. "If you won’t accept me as a friend, then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner,”

“No. We won’t!” Katara unleashed a splash of water, knocking him back. “Get out of here and don’t come back. And if we ever see you again... Well, we better not see you again!”

The air was tense as he walked off. Your fear didn’t subside.

How long would it take for his next strike to hit you?

And how many more could you take?

“Why would he try to fool us like that?” Katara questioned a while later. “Obviously he wants to lead us in some kind of trap,” Her brother stated, following her deeper into the temple. Aang and you trailed after them silently. “This is just like when we were in prison together in Ba Sing Se. He starts talking about his mother and making it seem like he’s an actual human being with feelings,” Her words hurt. But you had to admit that she spoke the truth. The tender moments you’d had with him would stay until the end of time, pointing out your failure. Your naivety. When you thought about him, you felt nothing but rage and pain making your stomach twist.

“He want’s you to trust him and feel sorry for him. Then you let your guard down and he strikes!” Sokka said gesturing furiously. His short ponytail wiggled along with his movements. “The thing is, it worked,” Katara put her sleeping bag down, kneeling to roll it out. “I did feel sorry for him. I felt like he was really confused and hurt. But, obviously, when the time came he made his choice. And we payed the price. We can’t trust him,” You nodded, hugging your own bag to your chest. “I believed everything he told me, when i lived with them. He was nice. And then he turned around and stabbed me in the back,” His amber eyes had seemed so genuine at the time... So loving. But it was all a game. A pastime as long as you were around, only to throw you away later. He’d made his choice. And you hadn’t been enough to be choosen. The memories left a burning feeling in your chest.

“I kind of have a confession to make,” the Avatar cut in. “Remember when you got sick and i got captured by Zhao?” You all ignored Sokka’s rant about Aang making him suck on frozen frogs. His poor sister had taken a look at his throat multiple times before. And to be honest, you all had. Involuntarily.

“Anyway. When Zhao had me chained up, it was Zuko who came in and got me out. He risked his life to save me,” You furrowed your brows. This was the last thing you wanted to hear about. What even was the point? Listing the few good deeds he seemed to have done, wouldn’t undo the mistakes. “No way! I’m sure he only did it so he could capture you himself,” Katara dismissed his idea. “Yeah! Face it Aang, You’re nothing but a big price to him,” Her brother agreed. “And what was all that crazy stuff about setting Appa free? What a liar,” The siblings had choosen a clear position in this debate. It didn’t really surprise you that they had each others backs. And so did you.

“Actually, he wasn’t lying,” Toph chimed in, leaning against a pillar connected to the ceiling. “Oh, hurray! In a lifetime of evil, at least he didn’t add animal cruelty to the list,” She paid no mind to Sokka’s antics and remained calm. “I’m just saying that, considering his messed up family and how he was raised, he could’ve turned out a lot worse,” You didn’t know why she would vouch for him, but you wouldn’t put her down. The sooner this discussion was over, the better. “You’re right, Toph. Let’s go find him and give him a medal! The ‘Not as much of a jerk as you could’ve been’ Award!” Katara mocked, spreading her arms in frustration. The earth bender crossed her arms, relying on her factual point of view. “All i know is, that while he was talking to us, he was sincere. Maybe you’re all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly,”

The group continued to bicker back and forth. “Why would you even try to defend him?” Toph pushed herself off the column, walking up to them. “Because, Katara, you’re all ignoring one crucial fact. Aang needs a fire bending teacher. It’s true, we have (Y/N), but she was never trained herself. And she never denied that she doesn’t have much knowledge about most techniques. And then another one shows up on a silver platter and you won’t even consider it?” She stomped. The rest of them turned to look at you, but you only shrugged. She was right. You’d been open with them from the beginning. “I admit that i don’t have as much... deep understanding for it as others may have. But i’m willing to give my best,”

Your reasoning seemed to be enough for the Avatar to pass. “I’m not having Zuko as my teacher,” he said. “You’re damn right, you’re not, buddy.” Sokka crossed his arms. “Well, i guess that’s settled,” You agreed. Toph grunted in frustration. “I’m beginning to wonder who’s really the blind one around here,”

The girl ranted as she walked away, only to return one day later, with burned soles.

“Toph! What happened?” She’d crawled in on her stomach, feet in the air. The front of her clothes was completely stained with dirt. Or as she liked to call it, a ‘healthy coating of earth’. ‘“My feet got burned,” Katara immediatly looked at the outcome. The skin was red and tender. Too sensitive to be touched. “Oh no! What happened?” You had no idea where she’d been all day, but considering the argument about a certain fire bender, a suspicion formed in your head. “I just told you, my feet got burned,” The brunette furrowed her brows. “I meant, how?” She hesitated, but answered while Katara used her healing powers to save whatever she could. “Well, i kind of went to see Zuko last night,” Your hunch got confirmed. The gaang was shocked to say the least. “See? You trusted Zuko and you got burned. Literally!” Sokka scolded, as he and Aang proceeded to carry Toph to the little fountain where she could stick her feet into the water. “Now i know how the rest of you feel. Not being able to see with your feet stinks,” You chuckled at her words, moving to stand behind her and putting your hands on her shoulders. She was like a little sister to you. And there was no doubt that you would make Zuko pay for what he'd done to her, should you ever see him again.

To your own dismay, that happened sooner than you’d expected.

A few seconds later to be exact.

“Watch out!” You yelled, spotting the assassin, as an explosion shook the temple. The man stood on a platform above, shooting at you. Or, to be precise, at Aang.

“Stop!” You weren’t that surprised to see Zuko next to him. The shock came more with the words he was saying. “I don’t want you hunting the Avatar anymore!” He commanded, but it was of no use. The boys grabbed Toph, making sure she was safe between them, as you all hid behind what was left of the fountain. “The mission is off! I’m ordering you to stop!” But no matter what he said, he was only cast aside. “I won’t pay you, if you keep attacking!” The prince kept trying to get to him. Not even his flames seemed to impress the man. “I’ll pay you double to stop!”

The assassin didn’t stop. Instead he aimed at Zuko himself. Your heart stopped for a second when he conjured flames around him to escape the attack. Then he was gone. Peaking over the stones you hid behind, you could faintly spot a silhouette clinging to the braches below.

You used the opening, screamed as you ran forward, throwing fireballs at the assassin with all your might. You couldn’t let him kill the prince. That task was already reserved for you, personally. The Avatar soon joined you, producing a cyclone. But neither that, nor Katara’s ice spikes could stop him. Everything you threw at him, he shrugged off. And he continued to destroy the temple in the process. “He’s going to blast this whole place right off the cliffside!” Toph shouted over the noise. “I can’t get out to water bend at him without getting blown up,” Katara stated, when you all covered behind a wall. You dared to poke your head out for a second, but you couldn’t see anything before he took another shot. “I can’t get an angle on him from down here,”

The Team was at a loss, until Sokka seemed to have an idea. “I know how to get an angle on him!” He followed the line of fire with his eyes, and took the chance, flinging his boomerang. And he hit. The assassin stumbled on his feet, trying to shoot once more, only to go down in the process.

The platform under him exploded, erasing what remained of him. 

Raising your head you could see Zuko managing to get back up.

He’d made it.

“I can’t believe i’m saying this, but thanks, Zuko,” Aang stood in between all of you, being the first to greet him. “Hey, what about me? i did the boomerang thing,” Sokka said, striking a pose. You raised a brow at him, but gave him a pat on the shoulder, which seemed to raise his spirits.

“Listen, i know i didn’t explain myself very well yesterday. I’ve been through a lot in the past three years. It’s been hard. But i’m realizing that i had to go through all those things to learn the truth. I thought i had lost my honor and that somehow my father was the only one who could return it to me. But i know now that no one can give you your honor. It’s something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what’s right. All i want now is to play my part in ending this war. And i know my destiny is to help you restore balance in the world,” He turned and bowed to Toph. A traditional sign of respect in the Fire Nation. “And i’m sorry for what i did to you. It was an accident. Fire can be dangerous and wild. So as a firebender i need to be more careful and control my bending, so i don’t hurt people unintentionally,”

You clenched your hands at your sides. He didn’t even need his bending to hurt people. And to your horror, Aang seemed to be considering it.

“I think you are supposed to be my fire bending teacher. When i first tried to learn fire bending, i hurt Katara. And after that, i never wanted to fire bend again. (Y/N) helped me overcome my innitial fear. And yet destiny keeps bringing us together. Now that i know you understand how easy it is to hurt the people you love, i can’t ignore that any longer,” He gifted Zuko with a bow of his own. “I’d like you to teach me,” The prince immitated his gesture. “Thank you. I’m so happy you’ve accepted me into your group,”

“Not so fast. I still have to ask my friends if it’s ok with them,” He turned back to face you. “Toph, you’re the one that Zuko burned. What do you think?” She sat on a rock next to you, shrugging. “Go ahead and let him join. It’ll give me plenty of time to get back at him for burning my feet,” Her motion clearly indicated that she would beat him up later. Thoroughly.

“Sokka?” The boy remained silent for a second, but eventually came around. “Hey, all i want is to defeat the Fire Lord. If you think this is the way to do it, then i’m all for it,” The Avatar smiled upon hearing his answer and nodded, hoping to gain more approval from the rest of you.

“Katara?” She wasn’t thrilled about the idea. She didn’t even bother to hide it. But she agreed for Aang’s sake. “I’ll go along with whatever you think is right,” The prince was ecstatic, a smile spreading on his face. “I won’t let you down, i promise!”

Everyone seemed to agree.

“And (Y/N)?” Aang looked at you with curious eyes, ready to hear your opinion. You could see Zuko breaking a sweat behind him, as you glared at his face. “I’m sorry Aang, but i can’t be a part of the group. Not if he is,” You said, flames coming to life around your fists. “But i do want to stay by your side. So i’ll prove to you that i am the better choice,” Passing the Avatar you walked up to the prince, until his face was only centimeters apart from yours.

“Prince Zuko,” Your tone was sharper than a knife. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai,”

on to part four!

tags: @zvkonation​ @viva-la-millennia​ @randomness501​ @drheinzd​ @kaylove12​  @duh-dobrik​ @yeetscreetiwannaeat​  @ashnkamfeun @hailkyoshi​ @shortmexicangirl​​

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[sarahjtv]

BNHA Chapter 310 Spoiler Thoughts: “The First and Second Holders”

Some fan translations are out and it’s time to flex some thoughts out again!  I couldn’t do them last night because I didn’t have all the scan images with me and I didn’t want to jump the gun with only text descriptions.  Anyway, this was mainly an exposition chapter that properly introduces us to the second and third OFA Holders, especially the 2nd and what his relationship to the 1st is.  This might not be as long as others “Spoiler Thoughts” I’ve written, but let’s see:

First off, we have a colored cover page by Horikoshi-sensei himself!  It’s a solo page featuring Vigilante Deku and he looks badass!  Deku looks ready to kick ass and take names.  And, his Mid-Gauntlet is colored red like a lot of us thought and it adds to the theory that Melissa Shield did create it like she did with Deku’s Full-Gauntlet back in Two Heroes.

The chapter starts in a dark and rainy night.  A large woman (she’s like maybe 10ft tall; she’s taller than All Might who I think is 7ft) with a mutant-type quirk who’s getting attacked by some civilians because they think she’s a villain.  Deku jumps in to stop the attacks and the woman explains that she was just trying to go to one of the evacuation centers at a hero school.  Deku is kind enough to give her her umbrella back and reassure her that things will be ok.  

I gotta say that this whole situation is scarily close to real life right now.  I don’t like getting too political, but we live in a scary world where discrimination is, unfortunately, alive and well...  If you are a POC, you can be attacked from anywhere with the only reason being that “you’re a danger because of the skin you were born with”. It’s horrific, it’s disgusting, and it’s been around for a long time.  Even in the BNHA universe, there used to be cults solely dedicated to discriminating against mutant-type people (we learned this back in the My Villain Academia Arc).  So, like in the real world, this problem has risen again.  Thankfully, there are people like Deku and All Might who are more than willing to help someone in need regardless of who they are.  BNHA hits too close to home sometimes.  

Anyway, going back to the BNHA story.  Before All Might leaves to help the woman in his Batmobile, he hands Deku some Pork Katsu in a cute bento box wrapped in a bunny cloth!  Deku is visibly happy and thanks All Might for the meal.  This is so cute!  I’m so glad to see that All Might is making sure that Deku is being properly taken care of.  Boy needs to eat if he’s going to save the world.  I’m also glad that Deku can still show signs of happiness despite, well, everything.  I swear, if All Might doesn’t legally adopt Deku as his son by the time this series is over, I’m going to jump into this manga and force him to sign those documents myself. 

The next panel shows Deku standing on what looks like Tokyo’s famous Sky Tree (or Sky Egg if we’re going off what Vigilantes showed us).  He’s back to talking to the OFA Holders like they’re angels on his shoulders.  Banjo talks about how it’s like the world’s reverted back in time when things were worse and Deku responds that if he doesn’t use all of OFA’s power, he’ll never be able to defeat Shigaraki and AFO.  I know we’re in the final act, so Deku’s gotta get to 100% fast if he wants to win this war.  Last we checked, he was at 45%, but he might be at a higher percentage now since he’s unlocked En’s Smokescreen.  Also, Deku’s looking more and more like Batman each chapter and I gotta say that it really suits him.

Back to the Vestige Dream back when Deku was still in a coma after the war.  The 1st Holder begs the 2nd and 3rd to corporate with him so that they can provide their power to Deku.  The 1st calls the 2nd and 3rd “My Heroes” which causes some awkward silence lol.  Neither one is responding, so Banjo breaks the silence by suggesting that Deku learn everyone’s Quirks so that he’ll get used to them once he starts using them.  We learn why the 2nd and 3rd are the 1st’s heroes soon, but it’s actually a good idea for Deku to learn about all these different Quirks while he’s sleeping so that he’ll get a good idea on how to execute them when he wakes up.  It’s kind of a way of training for Deku just without actually using the Quirks themselves.  

The 3rd Holder (the one with the spiky ponytail and headband) starts to talk.  He says that the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd came from the “Harshest era of history”.  It was a time where AFO ruled all and peaked in power and control.  He was going to take over the whole world if the first 3 Holders didn’t step in to stop him.  My guess is that after AFO was defeated for the first time, society started to calm down and become more or less the world we knew before the War Arc.  So, things weren’t as bad during the 4th Holder’s era and so forth.  This would explain why Shinomori was able to hide in the forest for so long without being detected.  

And now the big part of the chapter: the 2nd Holder.  Who does in fact look A LOT like Bakugo.  Big difference is that he has a massive scar across his face.  I am aware of the whole “time travel” theory that people have going on with Bakugo and this dude, but I’m not on that train.  Instead, I think that the 2nd Holder is one of Bakugo’s ancestors.  Like, a really, really-great-grandfather.  Horikoshi doesn’t just design his characters for no reason.  The fact that the 2nd user looks so much like Bakugo, has a costume similar to Bakugo’s, and that future panels in this chapter straight up parallel that iconic scene with young Bakugo and Deku in the river only add fuel to this fire.  Unless Horikoshi says otherwise, this is the theory I’m sticking to: this “Ancestor” theory.

And we know of the 1st user’s real name now too, which is Yoichi!  If Horikoshi is keeping up with the “numbers in names” theme, then I’m positive that Yochi has the kanji for “One” somewhere in it.  And, if we’re going to believe AFO at all, then that means that the 1st user’s full name is Yoichi Shigaraki.  We don’t know AFO’s full name yet.  But, again, AFO could be lying with his last name, so I’m taking this one with a grain of salt.

Back to the 2nd Holder, he tells Yoichi that a lot of lives were sacrificed in order to stop AFO back then.  He believes that there is only victory or defeat in battle; that there’s no hope of saving their archenemy.  He has doubt about putting his faith in Deku because of this.  Given how the 3rd Holder still has his back turned too, I’m lead to believe that he also thinks Deku is crazy for wanting to save Shigaraki.  I don’t exactly blame them.  Really, none of us know if Deku will be successful in saving Shigaraki.  He might have to kill him in the end.  I think they should offer Deku help, but I don’t blame them for being at least a little skeptical.  

But, Yoichi reminds the 2nd and 3rd users that they saved Yoichi back when AFO locked him up to die.  They found Yoichi with the intention to kill him it seems, but the 2nd Holder showed sympathy for Yoichi and lent him a helping hand despite Yoichi being AFO’s little brother.  This is the parallel panel I was talking about.  Yoichi is kneeling down on the floor and the 2nd user is standing up extending his hand to help Yoichi.  I don’t even need to look back in the manga to know what inspired this.  Hell, I don’t even need to tell you!  We all know what Horikoshi was doing when he drew and wrote this.

Yoichi convinces him that he should believe in Deku as Yoichi does think Deku will save the day.  If the 2nd user didn’t extend his hand to help Yoichi, OFA wouldn’t have begun.  I think that the trust between these two is ultimately the reason why the 2nd user finally agreed to help Deku; the same with the 3rd user too.  And, kind of a tangent, but I really like how Horikoshi draws Yoichi and the 2nd user’s hands as they’re reaching for each other.  Horikoshi has always been really good with drawing hands like they’re facial expressions (something my ass could never do 😭) and this one shows kindness and empathy.  It’s almost like what would’ve happened if Bakugo accepted Deku’s hand for help when they were young instead of letting his pride and ego get in the way.  Oh, the parallels! 

Finally, the 2nd user speaks in present day telling Deku that they’re going full speed ahead now.  My guess is that Deku’s going to have to improve on OFA and the rest of his Quirks quickly in order to find and beat the LoV.  We are in the Final Act after all.  The chapter ends at a good place if we want to switch to the UA kids, which is honestly what I’m hoping for.  Again, I love Deku and his Vigilante adventures, but I miss the rest of the kids.  The new BNHA Exhibition in Japan apparently has a giant drawing of the main class, All Might, Aizawa, and Shinso in his new hero costume!  Which tells me that 1. Shinso probably took Deku’s place in the class for the time being, and 2. We’re definitely going to see the other kids again.  I’m hoping soon.  But, I wouldn’t be surprised if Horikoshi decided to continue focusing on Deku’s Vigilanteism and have him practice with he 2nd and 3rd Holder’s Quirks now that they’re working with him.  We’ll just have to see.

So, that’s it!  Solid chapter overall.  I’m glad we finally got to see the 3rd and 2nd Holder’s faces.  I think the “Kirishima is the 3rd Holder” theroy has been debunked at this point, but I’m still on the “2nd Holder is Bakugo’s ancestor” train.  The similarities and parallels are too strong for me to deny it.  Horikoshi-sensei, please confirm or deny soon 🙏.  We are getting break next week for Golden Week BTW!  All of Shonen Jump is actually, so no One Piece or JJK either (I’m not sure about Jump+, so we might still be getting some Spy X Family for example).  So, basically all our favorite mangakas are getting a well-deserved break as they should!  I hope they enjoy their vacation!  Waiting’s going to suck tho, I’m ngl about that...  Oh well, I’m willing to take the sacrifice if it means having healthy mangka.  Thankfully, we still have the anime and the new exhibition to tide us over until then.

Edit: OR NOT SINCE THE EXHIBITION IS TEMPORARILY CLOSED BECAUSE OF A CERTAIN PANDEMIC GOING NUTS IN JAPAN AFTER ONLY BEING OPEN FOR 2 DAYS 😭 

Edit: I went back to re-read the chapter and I completely missed the date for the next chapter (chapter 311) which is set to release on May 9th!  So, we’re actually getting a 2 week break instead.  Damn...  Sucks for us, but it’s good for mangaka to get breaks when they can especially considering their absolutely insane schedule.

Me reading this chapter: