#villain reblogs II

[villain-championship]

Masterpost 2: Electric Boogaloo

Me, the pollrunner pollmaster

i'll just bullet note this 'cause my identity isn't too important to the champion

silver

they/it

minor

also, i still go to school and am an artist, this is a stupid little side thing i'm choosing to do in my free time. this is not a serious thing. this is not a priority of mine, but i'll try to keep it fairly timely.

Rules of Submissions & Propaganda

Rules

i remember last time people were confused about what this tourney was actually about. well, it's a "most beloved/fun to hate villain" type of competition, not a fight

this is a bracket of 64

don't take things all to seriously, i'm not, neither should you

don't make joke submissions, it's not that funny

basic things for blogs (don't fight, essentally)

basic DNI, i'd just rather not have that type of people here, y'know.

i will only use one character (unless it's a duo or trio) for ever scource.

Other Things

have fun with it!

feel free to message me about any concerns or issues

my capitalization n kind of punctuation are interesting. don't mind that

i probably will leave my opinion in the tags

tag this account in basically anything i don't really care

Submission Guidelines

which of your favourite guys can you submit? what games, shows or other medias are out of the picture?

anti-heros/villains have a chance if you have a good reasoning for them to be included

no real people

i'd rather not include problematic media, but again, if you have a good reason they'll be considered

reformed villains only count if they were a villain for a majority of the time they appeared

stupid 'villain of the week' type characters can be included

twist villains are going to be avoided if they are a major spoiler for a big plot point of the media

no ocs

only submit one(1) character per submission form please.

Propaganda Guidelines

anything form of it is allowed, reblogs with a couple sentences, shitposts, things in my askbox, anything!

just keep it sfw

Submissions

submit in this form, go crazy, honestly. ramble about you're favourite evil guy(s) if you want. submissions are open for 3 weeks. go wild.

submissions are closed

New Tags

New tags to separate round 1 and 2

#not villian championship II - things unrelated to the championship (this includes asks even if they are about the championship)

#villain championship II - for the championship itself

#villain championship masterpost II - the tag for this post

#villain reblogs II - reblogs. be it of other polls/tourneys, the polls from the championship, or anything i deem fitting

#villain championship propaganda II - propaganda, either asks or reblogs this is the tag for propaganda

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: there should be a clear hatred for those you fight against, but nobody told y/n and jason about it.

rating: 16+

word count: pasmem 8,2k warnings: sex jokes, heavy make out session, foreplay

a/n: it took me long, but i hope this long ass post makes up for all the time it took me to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one, as i had a lot o fun writing it, and please let me know what you think about it once you're done reading ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt ii

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

… Explosion at the Yacht Basin. The Tiffany is being exhibited. Hurry.

“Just two miles south.” Jason responded. “On my way.”

Speeding up his motorcycle on the busy and wet streets of Gotham, Jason makes a sudden u-turn and heads back in the opposite direction he was once going. Swerving around the cars, trucks and other motorcycles, he hears back honks and curse words be thrown at him, but he doesn’t care. The adrenaline has woken his body. He can even feel the air blowing on his face, even behind the scarlet helmet composing his vigilante outfit.

He had been starving for action all night. His body needed it. Bruce had been an asshole. Roy had been an even worse ass, and there were tons of other people that had been pissing him off all day. All this built up anger made his body beg for some sort of release, he needed this extra energy gone, and punching someone on the face seemed like a very plausible solution to his problem. 

Failing to follow his own mind, telling him to be more careful with his driving after the last incident — that had him not being able to rise from his bed from how much pain his body was in —, he drove so fast his speedometer was hitting it’s other end. He’d definitely get scolded for it at any minute by Barbara through the coms, and not being in the mood for that, he turned his communication off.

As he got closer to the marina, the smoke and fire became more and more evident through the gaps between all the skyscrapers surrounding the road. Pinkish flames flaring up here and there, climbing up the marina’s main building, and releasing smoke fuchsia toned. Upon that sight, Jason’s blood began to boil even hotter than it already was, and if possible, he sped up even more.

Recently, pink flames could only mean one thing in Gotham: Cupid. New psycho in town, got this name from Carmine Falcone himself, for her love to use crossbows and arrows and the hazed state his men were left by the mere sight of her face. Having had the displeasure of meeting her countless times, Jason knew her face pretty well, even if  she kept  it’s bottom mostly covered. And he was glad she did, as he could not stand the smirk planted on her lips as she managed to piss him off to no end.

She was a good thief, fast and stealthy, to the point one could have her in his hands but blink a little too slow and lose her to the shadows. Smart enough to keep herself out of the records for months, misdirecting her actions to random people, until one she had an accidental run into Robin and Spoiler when leaving Gotham’s Museum of Antiquities with a full bag of stolen artifacts and no sound coming from any of the alarms. 

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Scared citizens still ran out of the building when he got there, coughing and barely being able to breath due to the exposure to the toxic smoke. Leaving them in the care of the firefighters that had arrived a bit sooner than he did, he darted inside. Knowing pretty well how his opponent worked at this point in time, he got to the room where he was certain he'd find her.

Displays of very expensive jewelry filled the otherwise empty room. It was dark, but the few lights that came in from the glass ceiling — from the moon, the street lamps and the fire burning outside — hit the jewels and the stones, who in turn reflected them beautifully making an almost perfect show of lights that could make many nightclub owners out there feel pretty jealous of the image they could never replicate. Almost perfect because right where he stood he could see the central piece of the exhibit was missing, the big yellow diamond out of sight.

No alarm sounds, no security system activated.

“Looking for this?” asked a voice from behind him, soft, sultry and mysterious. What wasn’t soft, though, was the clicking sound of a pistol unlocking and being settled at the nape of his neck. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot. I like you too much to hurt you, Red. And also, I don’t want to ruin your face before I get the chance to see it with my own eyes.” 

“Give back the diamond, Cupid” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Oh, they have so many here, they won’t notice I only took one.”

With a swift movement, Jason threw his arm back with force and locked Cupid’s arm under his own, making her drop the gun somewhere far he could only see through the side of his eyes. Now, facing the villain, he kept her arm tightly wrapped around his, somewhat careful to not hurt it while keeping  control of the situation.

“I thought guns weren’t your thing.” he said, tightening his hold and making her groan.

“I’m keen on exploring new kinks” she replied. “C’mon, Red! We don’t need this. We’re friends, I can send you a gift card once I sell this to the black market” and with an even quicker movement, Cupid released her arm from Red Hood’s grip and spun around, kicking at his face. Jason dodged it and threw a punch at her that she also skipped, though only for mere inches.

Hitting the back of his knee with another kick, the villain managed to make the hooded hero fall to his knees for a brief moment,  giving her an opportunity to run out of the room. Jason darted after her straight away, following her through the corridors and up the stairs, then reaching the glass ceiling of the exhibit. She ran with ease on top of the steel bars holding the glass up, opening a gap between the two of them as Jason, much larger and heavier,  had more difficulty in doing the same.

Soon, they exchanged the glass ceiling for a concrete roof when they got on top of the neighboring room. Chasing her dark suited body, he managed to shorten their distance a little when she jumped a small gap and fell onto another building, him not taking long and getting there as well. It was the main structure on fire, the heat from below reaching his forearms, the only part of his body left exposed, unprotected by his jacket.

“Into fire play, Cupid?”

“Ha!” she laughed at his joke, throwing her head back mid run. “Works as a great distraction.” she shrugged.

She was certainly faster than him, reaching the end of that building much sooner, lowering down and grabbing a bag that must have been left there beforehand. Out of it, she took her pistol sized crossbow and turned to him. Not wanting to get shot, Jason zigzagged his way to  her, trying to run as  fast as he could. 

After the sound of the weapon activating, an arrow flew right by his shoulder, cutting a string on his leather jacket. Strike one, thought the vigilante. Nobody does that to his jacket. 

This time aiming the gun at the higher building, she shot it and the arrow hooked on the stair house wall. Finally reaching the end of his run and almost at arm’s range with the thief, he jumped in her direction, trying to catch her mid flight, but only just touching the sole of her boots. She was up in the air, flying to the other building, and landed on it with gracious ease, as a pretty bird landed on someone’s finger.

“Pray to catch me, Red” she taunted him once she settled on the other side of the tall gap.

Groaning in frustration, he threw off his jacket, incredibly hot to the touch from being near the fire, and feeling a sting of pain hit his shoulder as he noticed a bleeding wound adrenaline didn’t allow him to see earlier in the same spot his sleeve had been laying on.

“Oh, Red.” she screamed at him, attracting his attention. “I swear you couldn’t turn me on more than you already did, but wow!” sliding her back down the wall of the stair house, she sat on the floor, her legs slightly spread in his direction.

“Shut up!” he screamed back, all his build up frustration sounding through it.

“Oooh come make me…” she moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her glistening neck. Anger blew through his nose, and standing on the edge of the roof, Jason took his grappling gun from his utility belt and aimed it at top of where her arrow still stood. Being soared into the air, he was mere inches from reaching the parapet when he felt his body lose all weight and descend to the floor. His heart fell just as hard, as he noticed the cut wire that once held him up slide right past his face.

However, when he thought the floor was his only destination at that point, strong arms held onto his own, keeping him from falling. 

“Thought I was gonna let you die in front of me?” questioned that same sultry voice.

“You fucking cut the wire! What did you want me to think?” he replied, grinding his teeth.

“I removed your hook from the wall” she corrected, matter of factly. “And I did it so we could have a little fun. It was getting boring up here. All alone”

The seductive way she finished her sentence made Jason’s voice put up and look directly  at her face. Her lowered eyebrows and the pout she had on her bottom lip — plumb, red and glossy ones — made his stomach turn. Strike two, I hate pouty lips.

Using his free arm to grab onto the railing, he forced his body up with her assistance. He put one of his legs over the parapet and managed to finally set his feet on the ground. He shouldn’t have been affected by what happened. He was used to heights, he knew he could shoot his grappling gun again, he knew nothing would happen. Yet, it did affect me. 

His heart was beating fast, his breath caught in his throat. Laying his hand on his tights, he tried to steady his it, to relax his shoulders, and ease his body back to normal. For a brief moment, he imagined himself falling into the fire, the image of being consumed by it scaring him way too much.

“Here, big boy. Take a seat” Cupid forced him on his butt and made him rest his head on the railing. “Jesus, you’re not into rope play? Noted.”

Clicking her tongue, she lowered herself to his level and placed one hand on his knee.

“Really… I want to kill you.” he shook his head, removing his hands from under hers.

“Thought your killing days were over, Red.” she stated, hands going to her waist. “Sadly, it’s not gonna be tonight you get to realize your dream.” 

Standing up and wasting no time, Cupid grabbed her crossbow, unloaded it and hit it against the back of his ear — or where she assumed it rested inside the helmet. The clicking of metal into metal echoed in his ears, making him lose his senses for a bit. 

It seemed like it wouldn’t stop, the sound reverberating under the helmet. He tried to stand up, but his balance was poor, nearly making him fall once again. Holding his head, he tried to stop the sound, but it was useless. Taking off the helmet was a no no, even if the clear best solution to his pain.

Deciding that loosening it might make the situation better, he pressed the button that would free his skull, but he did not remove the helmet from it’s place. Not long after, the agonizing noise came to a halt, his sight stopped spinning, and he finally could stand up just fine.

But Cupid was gone. Lost to the night, and not a single sign she was even up there with him at some point could be spotted around.

If he hadn’t accumulated frustration enough all night until this point, he was sure that now he had reached maximum storage. Punching the wall, he let go of some of it, but certainly not enough.

Three nights ago, Jason let Cupid escape. Three nights ago, Jason got scolded by Bruce for letting the Tiffany diamond go missing. Three nights ago, he could only think of one thing, and that thing has stayed in his mind ever since.

Tonight though, he would finally put an end to his mental torture.

The heavy sound of rain soon faded as he entered the batcave’s tunnel system, being then exchanged by the echoing sound of his engine against the hollow corridors. The darkness and the cold of that place once made him extremely uncomfortable, but after so long visiting those places, he felt embraced by it, and the solitude, the feeling of leaving the whole world behind, turning it off of his head,  made him feel at home.

Underground, he found the metro trails of Gotham’s subway system. This first one he spotted was from an old abandoned line, a new one had been set to finish its construction by the late 2000s, but that clearly did not reach that goal, now resting here, forgotten. 

Driving through the empty tunnels, following the directions his computer board had given him, and reaching the marked spot on his screen, he made his motorcycle come to a stop, turning it off, getting down from it and making the rest of his way on foot.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he was warned by Oracle of an explosion caught by the radar. The smell of smoke was present during his ride, but there was no sight  of fire. Leaving his headlights on, it helped him find his footing around the area, where he could barely see the tubes and wires drawing parallel lines on the concrete walls, nor the weird engravings he had no idea who — and how — had put them  there. Standing still, he quieted his breathing and took some time to listen. 

The howling of the wind, the timed buzzing of electricity running through the cables and the distant sound of trains following their course filled Jason’s ear, but something else caught his attention. It was the slight sound of rocks moving to his left that made him turn around and face exactly who he wanted to see.

At the blink of an eye, he had her under his gun’s aim.

“Certainly, this terrain doesn’t favor me at all, does it Red?” she taunted, hands held up in the air like a culprit caught by the police. This time, she had her regular all black attire on, but had no mask and wore a hooded  jacket, much like his own. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Where’s the fucking diamond?”

“Sold to the black market. Is this all you can talk about?”

She was quick. She had to be, a diamond as expensive as the Tiffany wouldn’t last long in her hands if word got around she still had it for this long. He knew she had to have a buyer even before stealing it. Yet, Jason innocently thought he could have gotten to her before she managed to trade it.

“Didn’t know you were working for Cobblepot…” he questioned. He had been sent here because they knew Penguin was out and about, planning something for some time, but that they weren’t sure on what it was. Finding her here meant she was somewhat involved in his business, and he didn’t know why and how that was made possible.

“Working with Cobblepot” she cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And not by choice.”

“For what then? Doesn’t seem to me like he’s the best match for your skill set.” he commented, interested in knowing why this pairing was ever formed. Penguin was a crime boss who would steal everything and anything that could get him richer, and he had worked with some of the best along the years, although not the best partner they had ever had. Yet working alongside a Cupid seemed especially strange this time, as she had only been on their records for a couple months, and Penguin isn’t much keen on working alongside new flesh. And also, from the little bit he knew about her, she preferred working alone.

“For I have no other choice.” she answered, and he could have sworn her voice had a little crack somewhere between those words. “I guess I should’ve picked a buyer more carefully. Next time I try to sell some stolen goods I’ll have that in mind.” she threw her shoulders back and continued. “Beginners curse. I’ll learn things through time and find the right people who I can trust. I did find you after all, right Daddy?”

Say what?!  she caught him off guard. What did she just fucking call me?

“I’m not your fucking Da…” lowering his gun, grunting, he stoped himself from saying the last word.

“Oh? Why can’t you say it?” she mused, excited by his excitation from saying the word. “Say it!”

“Stop.”

“Say it, Red.” she challenged.

“No!” he screamed back, while she continued to taunt him. At a distance, his ears heard the succinct sound of a train coming in their direction and he started to notice the peebles jumping up on the ground. He also noticed Cupid standing right at the middle of the railing tracks. “Cupid, get out of there.”

He tried to plead, but she still happily sang to him to repeat the D word. 

“The train is coming! Do you want to die” he got closer, but nothing. She didn’t even flinch at the words train and coming being thrown at her.

“Y/n, move!” he screamed.

“Oh, you know my name?” her eyes widened as she seemed to have grown more excited at the thought he knew her identity. “Only fair you give me yours now.” 

Crossing her arms on her chest like a little child would do to its parents, she continued to ignore Red Hood’s pleas as the train announced itself to them by shining it’s lights in their direction.

“C’mon” he grunted, but she still didn’t move.

“Tell me your name” she sang. 

“Damn it, it’s Jason. Now fucking move.” He was desperate at this point, as she made no indications she was moving out of the way. Fearful, he started walking in her direction.

“Now, say dad-dy…”

“FUCK!” he screamed and rushed his steps. Getting to her, he jumped into the tracks and held her by the arms, dragging her alongside him out of the railway and onto the opposite wall, fast enough to have the train pass behind them and over the spot she was standing on a second later..

“Why didn’t you fucking get out?” he asked, completely exasperated, pushing her away from his hold.

“You wouldn’t let me die would you?” she pouted at him once more, aggravating his nerves and making him moan in frustration. Why is she so fucking difficult?

“I would kill you if I could.” he stated, getting closer to her face.

“What's holding you back? Papa bats wouldn’t let you?” 

Clenching his wrists, trying his best to not throw a punch at her yet and doing his best to hold his anger, he answers through gritted teeth. “I’m past that”

“A mature man”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying”

“It’s a talent I’ve curated through the years.” she stated, proud of herself for being an irritating little shit.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he questioned, remembering his job and the orders he had received earlier.

“Ah…” she looked up, as if trying to remember herself. “Distracting you.”

“Huh?”

“Penguin is planning something tonight and told me to take you out of his way.” He didn’t notice she was this close, but her hands were not at his collar. She fixed something in his chest he failed to see a problem with, her hands sliding up and down his chest. 

Shit, Jason thought. He had to get back. 

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hands from his jacket and threw them far away from him. Turning around, he was dead set into returning to the surface. “Oracle, this was a distraction. Penguin is…”

“...Robbing the entire exhibit  at the Yacht Club.  Yeah, we figured that out. Where were you? Everyone is heading there now.”

“I’m on my way too.” he cut the conversation short, running to his motorcycle.

“Hey, Jay?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice, still walking to his vehicle and getting on top of it. “Could you give me a ride?”

“You gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself. Looking back at her, arms on her side and big eyes innocencly staring at him, he really wondered if she was being serious or not. What was stopping him from giving her a ride and locking her up afterwards? In fact, that seemed like a very good idea to him. Having her right there, sitting behind him and holding his body, he could be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere…

“My my, you’re actually considering it?” she smirked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should go, Red. The sooner you trap Penguin, the sooner I’ll be free.”

And turning her back to him, she disappeared into the darkness once again. This time, he made his way into the shadows right after.

By the time they all had got to the exhibit, the jewels were already gone. 

Penguin’s meticulously crafted plan was a success. He had each and every member of the family busy with different affairs, seemingly unrelated, and within large enough distances to the Yacht Basin, that if anyone was seen moving in its direction, they would have enough time to clear the area before they got there. And everything went as planned. 

They all wondered, how could they have been tricked like that? So under their noses, so obvious looking on the outside. Yet, they were played like little children.

“We are trying to keep this out of the news until we understand how it all happened. The National Museum won’t be happy with this.”

“We’re working on getting as much information as possible, Commissioner. Penguin can’t have gone too far, this fast.” Batman stated. “These jewels are still in Gotham, and we’ll find them.”

“Good. Otherwise the mayor is gonna want both our necks hanging by morning.” Commissioner Gordon replied, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and fishing for a cigar he knew he had hid somewhere inside his coat’s pocket.

Hearing their conversion from a few feet away, Jason and Dick watched as the two of them said their goodbyes, and Bruce, in his mighty black cape and cowl,  made his way towards the two standing in the corner.

“Are you sure the jewels are still in the city?” Dick questioned, a subtle hint of doubt hidden in his voice, but not daring yet to completely cut this theory out of the question.

“No planes or ships were spotted on the radars. Fleeing the city with millions in gold and jewelry is not going to be easy after the police closed all road exits.” looking back at the Commissioner for a moment, he continued. “Barbara responded that all cameras at the Yacht club were conveniently turned off earlier. But she got a hold of the street vigilance records and caught a truck with suspicious actions coming and going down the street that leads here.”

Walking between Dick and Jason, he ignored their questioning looks and continued.

“I’m taking the batmobile back to the cave. Gather more information on the truck’s route and possible destinations. I need you two on the streets, be my eyes and ears. If anything happens, you need to call me. Immediately” he demanded, blending with the shadows and making his way out of this place, leaving the two brothers all alone.

“I can’t believe Harley was with Penguin on this one.” he heard Dick start. “I was so sure she was trying to break the Joker out of Arkham again. I only realized something was wrong when she was taking too long to take some action .”

His brother’s little adventure with Harley Quinn was at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in at the moment. While he continued to ramble  about it, his mind was constantly drawn back to the tunnels and to her.

The way she could get under his skin so easily was something he couldn’t figure out how and why happened. There was only one other person who could do it as easily, but the Joker had killed him in the past, making the reason for his hatred for the Clown Prince of Gotham completely reasonable. On the other hand, he had only known Cupid for some time, met her less than his finger could count, and she really had not done anything more than antagonize him and actually save his life once.

And also, she was kinda hot. It irked him tremendously to even have thoughts  about this, but he had to be honest with himself and admit — to him only, and nobody else — that he did have a small, very slight, very little, thing for Y/n. But that was all physical, he only thought she was insanely attractive. She could work her body and her words, clearly, and he was just stupidly  weak to have fallen for charm.

“What did he do to keep you away?” Dick asked, having Jason’s attention back to him.

Jason considered if he really should tell his brother or not of what kept him away for so long. He had joked before about how much he seemed to find her out during patrol, and how she often got the best of him, leaving him empty handed. When they found out her real identity, Dick caught a glimpse at how Jason stared at her pictures a lot longer than he usually would. 

Coming to a conclusion, he answered without shame. “Cupid.”

Just by hearing her name, Dick’s smile spread on his face, although he’d keep trying to hold it back, his mind getting funny ideas of what the two of them were doing down in the underground.

“It seems like you’ve been finding each other quite a lot recently,” he stated.

“Uh-huh” Jason hummed, agreeing with him but limiting himself to a short and final answer, knowing pretty well where this conversation would go if he stood around for too long. Ignoring anything else Dick had to tell him, he mounted his bike and drove away to work on finding the jewelry truck.

Hours later, when the sun was getting close to coming out of hiding, Jason stood under a railroad bridge, quietly watching the rain fall harshly down the sky and form large puddles on the asphalt. He had been riding his motorcycle all night, looking for that truck or any other indication of Penguin’s work. He drove and drove, but got nothing.

Now, standing there, he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He awaited something. Something to happen to bring energy back into his night. Something to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts that had been torturing him all that time.

The rain hitting the metal structure over his head was soothing, and did not help his attempts to not fall asleep. Sometimes, a vehicle would pass by his spot and jolt him awake, or water accumulated somewhere would fall down all at once, making a huge noise out of nowhere. Other times, he’d hear mice or the sounds of footsteps coming up top, but would see nobody, animal or human, out there.  Worst of all was when trains would pass by the bridge and make everything in a two mile radius to shake.

Tired mind meant thinking of things he wouldn’t want to think about when his mind was properly awake. He closed his eyes and could hear the sultry sound of her voice, or smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He needed to see her again. He needed to let off some steam, all that stored frustration. He needed to see her and make sure she had forgotten about his name. Remembering he did that, he threw his head back and released a heavy sight. It was stupid to have said it, and he didn’t know why he kept doing stupid shit whenever she was around. 

Feeling safe in the loneliness, he took off his helmet and got some much needed fresh air. He leaned forward and laid his head down on his motorcycle’s panel, ready for a nap. Bruce wouldn’t notice. Penguin must have already left the city somehow and this whole night of waiting was for absolutely nothing.

Losing to tiredness, he began to dream of meeting Y/n and talking to her again.  But the dream wasn’t long, because when he was getting to the good part, something made him jump out of his sleep.

“Is the night too much for the incredible Red Hood?” asked a voice he did not recognize and who he could not see, hiding from the lights, but who he felt came from right behind him. The voice was followed by the sound of two, or was it three, sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Or did that arrowed cunt give you the kiss of death too?” joked another voice, clearly familiar with the first one. Jason still could not see them yet, but knew very well where they stood.

“Are you guys scared to come out of the dark?” he taunted them. “It’s easy to tell me shit when I can’t see who I’m supposed to be fighting with.”

“Isn’t this guy is fucking cocky, Dan?” the second voice commented.

“How many of your friends have left with all working limbs after finding me during a night at their job?” Jason inquired, smirking at the men in the darkness, proud of his high rate of beat down assholes.

“One as many punches I’ll be gifting your face tonight.” one of them replied.

“Then come and get me.” he challenged, arms open in a call for battle. 

Upon his call, two tall men left their place in the shadows and ran in his direction. One of them was skinny, and held what Jason identified as a knife in his hands. The other, smaller and a bit heavier, had something shining between the base of his fingers. Standing up from his bike, he cracked his neck, his arms and his fingers, waiting for the action to finally reach him and he slowly paced towards the two guys. Action was on again, baby.

The fact that he was outnumbered did not bother Jason in the slightest, as he defended himself with ease. The other two, although pretty confident when they ran towards him thinking they could give him some bruises, soon found out that defeating the Red Hood was no easy task.  Their confidence was rapidly gone. 

He managed to divide them. Turning to fight the first one, he grabbed him by his collar, threw him at a metal pillar, causing an echoing sound to reverberate around them, and the man to fall hard on the ground, grunting on the floor and touching his own his to check if they were okay. Now, changing his attention to the other man, he couldn’t find him at first glance, but saw this one trying to sneak around his back and hit him on the head with a large pipe he had found somewhere. Being a smarter fighter, Jason followed him by the noise he was making by breathing, walking and simply existing in around him. Jason knew exactly where he was and avoided the hit. Then, he grabbed the man’s hand and spun his arm around till it made a loud cracking sound and the guy made an even louder and painful scream.

“How many punches did you say you’d give me again?” Jason shrugged. Not a single drop of sweat in his body.

The moaning and groaning of the two guys on the floor were like a symphony to his ears, the perfect credit song for one of his favorite action sequences. Wanting to leave, he looked for his helmet as he didn’t see it where he had left it above his bike. Not on the floor either, and also not rolling to the street.

“Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday”

The words came out of a third voice, perhaps the third pair of steps he had heard along the men’s. But different from the two idiots on the floor, this one definitely activated his fight or flight instincts.

“Solomon Grundy, born on a monday.” The big shadow of the creature turned into flesh and bone, red helmet in hands. Breaking the item as if he was breaking glass, the angry monster threw pieces on the floor, stepped on them with his bare feet and with heavy steps made his way to the Red Hood. “Solomon Grundy, born on a monday”

“Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as the zombie-like walked closer. “Long time no see, buddy.”

As if disgusted by the nickname, Grundy darted towards Jason, who then ran towards the street in hopes to get more space to fight the big guy. He also hoped the wet asphalt could somehow aid him  in bringing down the creature. He deviated several punches, while his own hit the spot a couple of times, but apparently didn’t cause his enemy much pain. Kicking the back of his knees, he made Grundy lose some balance and fall to his knees, giving Jason enough time to think of a plan.

Looking back at his bike, still where he was sitting under the bridge, he decided that the best plan was making a run for it and trying to escape. He didn’t know what and why had Grundy so mad and out of the sewers tonight, as he rarely left his safe spot, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer to figure that out.

“You work for Penguin too, Grudy?” he jokingly asked, making a run to his motorcycle. “Thought of you as better than that.”

“Solomon Grundy… works for nobody” he answered, punching the ground with both of his hands right at the place where Jason had just been standing. Almost out of the street, a car suddenly passed by — for what reason? — and blocked his way, and then another car showed up. Why are all those people driving towards Solomon Grundy? Have they all gone mad?

When he was too worried  about the cars and the stupid people driving them, Jason didn’t notice when Grundy approached him and hit him right in his jaw, making him fly across the street. There on the floor, his head spun and everything went blurry as he tried but could not pull himself up from the ground. Damn it, he needed to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, lord knows how, and stumbling to make his way to where he wanted, he heard the swift swish of projectiles flying by his ears, who were then followed by Grundy’s screams and complaints. Two. Three. Four more things hit him, but somewhat running with a spinning head had Jason’s vision go everywhere but nowhere at the same time. 

As if that wasn’t enough, suddenly the honking of a car and a pair of headlights were in his face, as he felt the floor shaking from the heavy steps that were also heading his way. Trying to rush, he nearly fell onto the floor yet again, but a loud crash sounded through the whole street and something knocked him down.

His vision was getting darker, and all voices sounded distant, but this one he still could hear clearly.

“Stay with me, Jason. Don’t close your eyes”told him the voice, this time it was soft and sultry. He felt his entire body ache, and his eyes couldn’t stay open even if she begged him. “Hey, Jay.” she called him again, tapping his cheeks with care to try to keep him awake. “Stay with me, please. Stay awake.”  

But it was too late. Soon, everything was black.

.

His head banged with pain. Really, it hurt like crazy. It was not the best sensation to wake up to. His vision still hadn’t settled too, still spinning as he last remembered them. He tried to inspect the room he was in, but he couldn’t identify where he was. He woke up god knows where, but the real question in his mind was in how he got there.

Remembering everything that happened before he blacked out, Jason tried to stand up from the bed he was laid on, noticing his missing shirt and the curatives glued to his chest. He sat at the tip of the cushion, placing his bare feet on the cold floor.

The small room he was in had only the bed he was on and a small table by its side, but it was randomly adorned with small plants, colored glass decorations and a pile of old books at one corner. This didn’t look like neither his or his brother’s home, and it was too small to be anywhere inside the manor. This also did not look like a cell, or a hostage room. It felt too cozy for that.

Gosh, he thought, placing his head on his hands and massaging his temples, I’m knackered.

Forcing his body to comply with his mind, he stood up on his feet, but it immediately felt weak and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Easy, Red” someone rushed beside him, holding his sides to check if he was okay. “You’re still dizzy from all the pain medication I gave. I must admit, I’m not the best doctor you could find.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, confused when he recognized the voice.

“Baby, you were knocked out and saved by Grundy last night. If he didn’t jump after you, you’d have been smashed by that car, like a smashed potato!Jason.” Y/n explained as her face was becoming clear in his eyes. “And I have to be honest here, after finally seeing your face after this long, I can tell you it’d have been a real waste if all of that had happened.”

When this fell to his ears, his hands shot up to his face, noticing his domino mask gone. 

“Where am I?” he asked, still groggy.

“At my place.” 

“You had the courage to take me to your home?” he questioned, incredulous. Putting her index finger on her lips, she requested. 

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Wh-what…”

“Relax. Just let me check your bruises now that you’re up.” she cut him, grabbing a pastel yellow bag from the table next to the bed, pushing his arms away and settling herself on his lap.

Not believing what was happening, Jason could only stare at her wide eyed as she removed his hair away from his forehead, and cleaned the cuts on his face with a cotton ball. 

She was uncomfortably close. Dangerously close to him, and he didn’t know how to react. Her face was mere inches from his, and, as she continued to clean his bruises, he could feel her hot breath hitting his face. He had to blink once, or twice, or thrice, to try to recollect himself and to try and push her away from his lap, but she hooked her lean legs tightly around his waist, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t touch me.” he complained, trying to keep his face away from her touch by awkwardly throwing it back.

“How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can’t touch you?” she rolled her eyes, but he could see a smile gracing her face. Her arms on her hips, she finally had a chance to get a proper look at what she was wearing. She had on a gray tank top and jean shorts that barely covered her legs and left her beautiful tights on display for him to see… and touch, as he placed his hand on top of them “involuntarily”.

“Then get off me” he replied through his gritted teeth.

Pissed off, she straightened her back and looked right into his eyes. Jason suddenly felt small as she proceeded to challenge him. 

“Make me.” 

And when she didn’t get a response from him, nor a shake of his head or a noise from his throat, she smirked back at him, going back to tending to his wounds.

Jason stood there, quietly and still, watching as she cared for his wounds with utmost concentration. When she was done cleaning his face and chest, after carefully removing the curatives that had been protecting his scratches there, she fished for some medicine to apply on him. She had put everything on the bed, all at an arm's distance so she wouldn’t need to leave his lap to grab anything until she was done.

He winced when she applied an antibiotic cream on his cuts and he felt the itching starting, but she scolded him to get himself together and let her finish with the rest. When he still showed agony on his face, she blew at the spots and softened his pain.

There, on top of him, she was constantly moving. He could feel her crotch sliding against his own, making his mind go places where it shouldn’t be going right now. His hands started sweating, and he tried to clean them on his pants, before placing them again on her legs. 

“A-hem” he fake coughted, trying to get her attention. She simply shushed him.

Moving on top of him once again, slightly rising herself from his lap and standing with her knees on the bed, her boobs were then leveled with his eyes. He tried to look away, out of respect, after all he was still raised to be a gentleman, but he lost battle to his worst side, it getting control of him as he threw some glances at her cleavage. 

Still on her knees, she lost a bit of balance, almost falling on her back if Jason’s strong hands weren’t at her back ready to steady her back into his lap. A soft thanks left her lips, something that shouldn’t have made his mind go mad, but lord help him, he was going insane.

He was entranced by her. By her beauty, by her kind touch. By her hot breath and the soft smell of coconut shampoo emanating from her hair. He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration, sometimes switching habits and sucking her cheeks in as she focused on the task at hand. 

“Done.” she announced, smiling at him briefly before taking the medicine bag and organizing the bottles, sprays, tubes and bandages inside.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t look away. And he also couldn’t let her go too far, growing needy of her touch and presence. Growing addicted to finally having her this close. His hands pressed tighter around her waist and tights, impeding her from moving any further.

“You can let me go now, Jason.” And the way she pronounced his name. Oh, the way she pronounced his name. It sounded as if an angel sang him the prettiest of lullabies, or as if the devil seductively listed him all of the most delicious things the world had to give. Her plump lips moved and he got hypnotized.

“I want to kiss you.” he stated, without really thinking of what he was doing.

“You’re drunk on the meds.” she joked.

“No” he shook his head, sitting up straight and getting dangerously close to her face. His lips lingering over hers. They stared at each other's eyes like they were both hypnotized by each other. Nah, they were hypnotized. Their eyes were low but never leaving the other, their breaths mixing together.

Placing a hand on her neck, thumb caressing patterns on her skin, Jason tangled his fingers on her hair and pushed her down onto him. Their mouths collided with each other and moved in perfect synchrony, in the wettest of kisses. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but didn’t stay there for long, as she felt the need to have them all over his muscular chest.

His tongue soon begged for entrance, and she allowed him in without any reluctance. 

His hands also roamed her body, desperate to touch her every inch. He drew lines up and down her back, lifting her top all the way to where it reached her bra. He played with its hook as their mouths still danced in the most intense kiss, and unlocked it before she even noticed. He was desperate to take her shirt off, but he didn’t break the kiss. However, hard things had to be done to achieve greatness. 

Finally breaking the kiss, he took her shirt off over her head and tried to do the same with her unhooked bra, but her arms locked on her side stopped him from doing it. Before he had a chance to complain, she closed the gap between their lips again, restarting the fire they had briefly put off.

They didn’t let go of each other. There was no need for space, or air. They were consumed by the other taste, the smell, the touch. Starved, actually. Jason was starved. He didn’t know he craved her this bad until he had her in his arms, until her hands roamed all over his body and her hips gridded against his cock with fast movements. When she broke the kiss for air once more, he pouted his lips and she let out a laugh.

“Easy, boy.” she mocked, but soon threw herself on top of him again, laying him down on the bed, scratching his nude chest with her nails, the pain making his pants feel even tighter. As her hands got lower, they soon got to his waist line, where the tightness was making go crazy, agony climbing up his spine anxiously waiting for his release. She played around with the button of his jeans, teasing his patience, caressing his dick over all that fabric. It felt like torture, just as she liked. She like to torture him so bad, and he always knew it. Her hands were full, his side filling them completely, and they kept working their way up and down, often combining the movements with the tightening of her grasp around it and driving him so close to release without even having his member freed. 

He was so close, gosh, so close. But then she stopped, his eyes instantly opening as he looked after hers, begging her for an explanation. 

“You should rest.” she answered his grunts in complaint, getting off his lap and standing up between his opened legs. He quickly sat up from the bed too, grabbing at the base of her ass, desperately not wanting her to leave him. “I thought you wanted to kill me” she rested her forehead on his, joking at his change of behavior within just a few hours.

“I’m way past my killing days” he said, still out of breath.

She looked him in the eyes once more, staring deep into them. They didn’t hold longing anymore, there was no desire. Instead, her look was soft, warming. He felt safe under it, all his fire suddenly, but not completely, gone. Hooking her bra, she then reached for her shirt he had thrown right behind his back when they were still attached by their mouths. Having to lower herself a little bit to grab it, she provocatively placed her chest right down his nose. Still pumped with desire, Jason kissed the exposed part of her breast, feeling their warmth envelop his wet lips.

“When the effects of the meds are gone” she started, holding his head up by his chin, making him look to her eyes once more. “We can decide if we want to keep playing or not.”

Taking his hands away from her legs, she moved away from him without breaking eye contact. She grabbed a bottle out of the table, taking out of it a small pill. Putting it between her teeth, she walked to Jason, him immediately holding the base of her ass again, and lowered her head so their lips touched one more time. She allowed the pill to drop into his mouth, and as she broke the kiss, he swallowed it alongside all this frustration he could not seem to let off. 

Walking out, she left him alone. 

He dropped on the bed. Head going back to just moments ago, when she was on top of him and he felt… deep. He felt… he felt his consciousness leave his body. He felt his lids falling, too heavy for him to keep open. He felt it all change, from color to black, once again.

“So, you’re alive?” Dick questioned as Jason stood up for his sofa, protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

Jason was confused. So, was that all a dream?

.

[untitledmemes]

Nimona Prompts

Part II An assortment of prompts taken from the movie Nimona on Netflix. Adjust as necessary to fit pronoun and/or descriptor. Reblog, please do not repost or add.

“ Can you just be you, please? ”

“ Should've just stayed in jail. ”

“ You knew him better than anyone. ”

“ Remember who you are. ”

“ Your plan sucks, and it's boring. ”

“ We are villains. Embrace it. ”

“ Stop pushing me! I'm trying! ”

“ You're right. You're never that much fun. ”

“ Easier to be a girl? You're hilarious. ”

“ You deserve a better explanation than that. ”

“ They all look so happy together. ”

“ Let me go ahead and pass that problem onto someone else. ”

“ There's no time! ”

“ Aw. Why did you get to kill him? ”

“ I hate to say it, but you make a pretty good bad guy. ”

“ Okay, most people scream at that part. ”

“ What I want is answers, so start talking. ”

“ I didn't know what to do. ”

“ I'm sorry for kidnapping you. ”

“ You got betrayed by someone you trusted. ”

“ They brainwashed you good. ”

“ You should be questioning everything right now. ”

“ When things go south, I'm breaking stuff. ”

“ Is something on your mind? ”

“ I'm innocent, and I have proof. ”

“ Come on, man. Do the right thing. ”

“ Well, if it isn't the golden boy. ”

“ Did I ever mean anything to you? Or was it all just a lie? ”

“ She has my back, unlike you. ”

“ Yeah. Now I'm gonna punch you in the face. ”

“ I've got you, kid! ”

“ We have to get you out of here. ”

“ No matter what we do, we can't change the way people see us. ”

“ You changed the way you see me. Didn't you? ”

“ So, you got a plan? ”

“ Tell me the truth! ”

“ Round of applause, ladies and gentlemen. ”

“ I don't fight for her anymore. ”

“ Is it ever gonna be enough? ”

“ It's okay. You're safe. ”

“ I'm not the villain here. ”

“ We've been wrong about everything. ”

“ We can go back to the way things were. ”

“ You're the one who told me not to trust anybody, to question everything. ”

“ You know what you are. ”

“ Do you feel that? ”

“ I'm gonna be a freaking hero. ”

“ I don't know what's scarier. The fact that everyone wants to run a sword through my heart, or that I just want to let them. ”

“ I see you. And you're not alone. ”

“ It's over. ”

“ What if we've always been wrong? ”

“ Please come back. ”

[thetrashywritingwitch]

“Be Still, Just for Me” Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 46

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

(all chapters are available in my masterlist!)

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.

During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.

Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist. ---------------

Chapter length: 26k (HIGHLY recommend reading on ao3, wattpad, or quotev if you are a mobile Tumblr user and don't use Tumblr desktop because you will have a hard time with lag or app crashing trying to read this fucking long post)

Warnings: M+ for language, Katsuki-typical threats of violence, mentions of panic attack, sexual content (nothing super explicit)

Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog so this post shows up in search results! They’re also in my profile header! <3

Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13

thanks to all my beta readers!!! @birinboom

@bananabossbitch, @dellappatca and @jems-all-in-a-wood and a few others who prefer to remain anonymous. NOTE: please ignore and forgive anytime i might’ve misspelled “Yaoyorozu” because I'll never learn how to spell her name correctly

Chapter Title: The Night We Met, Part II

_____________________________

The celebration on the other side of the outside garden grew quiet and eventually vanished as though muffled by a growing mound of indiscernible cotton. Bushes and creeping vines paused their benign swaying. As the world surrounding Katsuki gradually came to a halt, its energy seemed to seep into his bones and beneath his skin, buzzing and oscillating tortuously. 

This isn’t real, he thought in desperation as his mouth went dry, eyes bulged, and chest tightened in disbelief. There, barely three meters away from him, stood a ghost shivering under the moonlight in a dress the deep red color of blood. Katsuki blinked, expecting you to vanish like you always did… yet you remained statue-still and staring stunned right back at him. 

The glass in his hand slipped out of his trembling fingers, clattering onto the floor. Neither of you flinched as ice and alcohol stained the wood grain underfoot. 

He remembered waking up this morning. Going on patrol with Mar. Arguing with Kirishima in the agency hallway. Feeding his cat. Riding his bike over here for his stupid birthday party… No, there was no way that the entire day's events and memories could have been more than an illusory dream. 

…Then what kind of sick trick caused a hallucination of you to appear before Katsuki as if taunting him ceaselessly for six months wasn’t enough?

Voice hoarse, arid, and strained, he attempted to speak as if hearing his own voice might jolt him out of this mirage. “Are you a nightmare?” 

Could you hear him? Would you answer? No, of course not. You never did; spirits couldn’t speak. 

You winced at his words, his voice uncharacteristically brittle compared to the strong, unwavering tenor you were used to, the sound you dreamed of hearing just one more time. All you wanted to do was run to him and bury your face in his skin and bathe in his warmth and sob in his arms. But cinder blocks tied your feet to the ground. He looked almost scared, as if reaching out to touch him would splinter the tension and he’d crack beneath your fingertips; the fear and anxiety kept you immobile as the device in your shaking hands translated his words. 

Peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you dared not blink as you managed to weakly shake your head in denial. “No, Katsuki… I’m not.”

More than anything you wanted to capture him, hold onto him, keep him close like a fragile treasure, but tension hung like tepid puddles after a thick rain - the kind that filled your nose and lungs with stale air and upended rot. Don’t cry, don’t cry yet. If you do, you’ll never stop. “W-why a nightmare?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck and disappeared into the collar of his pressed shirt. He quickly glanced at your hands gripped tightly around the device that somehow far exceeded the accuracy of your phone with its robotic Japanese inflection. But… your voice. It pierced between his ribs like a spear aimed with deadly accuracy to strike with poisonous memories dripping from the sharpened edge. 

Commemorating you through the keepsakes was easy; everything observed months ago, he saw again behind closed eyes or whenever he took out his hidden gifts when waves of longing nostalgia washed over him. However, sight was just a single sense out of five. The language barrier became less noticeable and cumbersome over time as he focused on the tone and inflection of your voice. Though your singing and laughter stuck with him, Katsuki lamented that they became harder to recall with every passing day. 

Dreams were satisfying and light, or comically nonsensical. The ones with you always began happily enough, and often alluded to memories he fought to remember and forget and remember and forget in a never ending cycle. But when morning came and Katsuki awoke, he knew that none of it was real and would never be real again; it might as well have been a nightmare. A looping display that haunted and taunted him knowing all that really remained of you, was just in his imagination. 

Waiting for you to disappear just as he had six months prior, Katsuki stood staring, unmoving despite the wretched hum screaming under his skin.

“Because,” he started, “I always wake up."

Not understanding the connection between you and nightmares, you managed to force your feet to move a single step towards him. "I… no. Katsuki, I'm not a dream or nightmare or anything imaginary. I… I'm real and I'm here and-" 

"You're not supposed to be here," he abruptly interrupted. The shock written across his face slowly morphed into that familiar grimace of frustration he wore like a shield. 

Your fear of rejection seemed like it might come true. 

Back inside the house, a line of people with their ears pressed up against the wall stood tense and impatient while those who had no fucking clue what was happening lingered in confusion. 

Kirishima went first, trying to see if he could hear the conversation happening outside with his face smooshed against the off-white wall. He needed to know if all their planning would actually pay off or if Bakugo was going to somehow blow his second chance at love. Midoriya followed right behind him and Kaminari, hating feeling left out, did the same even though he was only halfway in the know. 

"Jirooooouuuuu, pleeeeease? This is actually super important!" Ashido's black eyes glistened as she begged Jirou to use her earphone jacks to listen to the tense conversation happening on the other side of the sliding door.

Raising an eyebrow, Jirou said, "I don't even know what's going on? Who was that lady that went outside?" 

However, Yaoyorozu came up behind her girlfriend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to do as she says, Kyoka. It isn't really our story to tell; that's up to Bakugo-san. The conversation happening outside is private and we shouldn't eavesdrop.” 

Ashido pursed her lips and huffed. "Spoilsport. I know you're just as curious as the rest of us," she claimed before marching over to the wall and lining herself up with the others. 

Deflating, Momo nibbled on her bottom lip as she stared at her friends’ backs. It was true - she did want to know what was happening between you and Bakugo, especially after seeing with her own eyes how much you cared about him and all the trouble the others went through to get you here in the first place. A gentle, familiar hand on hers eased Momo’s worry as Kyoka met her eyes. 

“I definitely wanna know what’s going on because I’m so lost… but if you say it’s not our business, then I’ll just wait for you to tell me later,” she conceded with a knowing smile. 

“It… is a very interesting story, that’s for sure.” 

Towards the back of the room, Sero stood next to Todoroki who loudly sipped from his cup while Uraraka worriedly twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands on his other side. “Hey dude, you know what’s goin’ on? Is this all part of the party…?”

If it were anyone else, the ice in his cup would’ve melted into shards by now, but Todoroki held it in his left hand, a fine mist of frost keeping the mostly-empty cup perfectly chilled. “Yeah. Sort of. I’m just going to watch and see what happens. Uraraka, you shouldn’t worry, especially when you’re pregnant. I think Bakugo will be fine.”

Uraraka let the breath she was holding tumble out while absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. “I know, I know. He’s just so bullheaded sometimes; I don’t want Bakugo-kun to do something else he’ll regret…” 

Off in a far corner of the main living space, the remaining guests - Shinsou, Tokoyami, and Camie - lingered around the speakers and the snack table, all just equally as confused about what was happening, both inside and outside. 

“Should we-“

“Nope.” 

“… Yes, it's probably for the best.” Tokoyami closed his eyes in agreement within Shinsou, but peeked his left one open after a moment when he heard Camie giggle. "And can you tell me why you're so enamored with Dark Shadow?" 

The sentient shadow attached to Tokiyami was laughing, too, while Camie was trying to feed it a snack. "Huh? It's like, kinda cute, ya know? Like one of those little pocket monster things except like, real and stuff. Does it like brownies?" Although she had a high alcohol tolerance, it was obvious the spiked juice was beginning to affect her much to Dark Shadow's amusement. 

While party guests bickered or wrung their hands together with worry, your staring contest with Katsuki wore on. Confusion, tension, and agitation evident in his posture rolled off him like mist. You told Uraraka that keeping their plan a secret probably wouldn't end well, and you hoped she had convinced her other cohorts to come clean… but they didn't, and now you were paying the price. 

Opening your mouth, you tried to find the words to assuage his frustration and save the night from total ruin and heartbreak. "I… Katsuki, I know I'm not supposed to be here. That we both knew that when you left, that was it. That would be the end." Although you tried to keep your voice even and strong, it cracked like brittle china faced with an angry bull ready to charge. "Your friends… Uraraka and Kirishima and some others found a way to bring me here. They wanted… they thought you might want to see me again… I wanted to see you again." 

This wasn't right. None of it was right. He'd ached and wallowed in his own pathetic misery for months before finally managing to get a hold of himself and return to a life of relative normalcy and routine. Coming to terms with the brutal truth of his inability to just be fucking honest with himself, with you, was just as exhausting and difficult as any big villain he'd faced. 

It had to be some screwed up joke to cement him in the past he'd fought to leave behind. That's what you would've wanted. That's what Katsuki wanted. Right? 

But for the first time, you answered him. You didn't just fade away like every other instance. You claimed his friends helped you get here, but that just shoved more questions into his sweaty, trembling hands. 

Maybe this really was a nightmare… or possibly some elaborate illusion based on his knowledge and memories to leave him fumbling and vulnerable. Only the two of you stood outside, but for all he knew someone unseen could be pulling the strings with Black Hole as the resurrected puppet master.

She'd wanted him to suffer, after all. 

The sad, worried look in your eyes, however… did he trust his own senses that rarely led him astray, or was there a way to know if you were truly who you claimed to be? She isn’t. She couldn’t be. 

Unsure of what to do because his so-called friends left you on your own rather than explain to Katsuki what the hell was happening and why, you began to step closer to him, but stopped when he interrupted. 

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Hearing Katsuki so uncharacteristically wary reminded you dismally of his first few days in your home: distrustful, tense, and exasperated. After everything the two of you experienced together, it hurt. Oh, it stung bitterly. “Tell me something only the real (y/n) would know. Something no one else would know.” 

Frowning, you should’ve expected something like this. Rather than come here and be welcomed warmly by the man you fell in love with months ago, you were forced to prove you were really who you claimed to be through some time-wasting test. If by some miracle this actually worked and Katsuki eventually believed you, Midoriya and the others were going to catch a nasty earful for making this already stressful situation so much harder than it needed to be. 

Ignoring that impending argument for now, you focused on remembering everything only privy to you and Katsuki. While you had no idea exactly what he’d revealed to his friends about his time with you, it didn’t really matter; you knew Katsuki in the most intimate of ways; convincing him was - hopefully - only a matter of choosing something that struck a sensitive chord. 

The bear incident was too grandiose and at least a handful of other people knew about it. You recalled the flowers you’d managed to keep alive in your apartment, but you’d told Uraraka where they came from. While the karaoke date was something you’d never forget, it didn’t strike you as the correct choice, either. The amusement park, scheduling his haircut, running into your ex… All of these flashbacks resembled down-facing cards spread out on a table with your hand hovering between them. Every card except one meant permanent defeat. 

Then, it hit you. Something you were positive he kept to himself considering he almost didn't admit it to you at all; and Katsuki gave you a hint without even realizing. 

"The nightmare," you blurted out as if worried an invisible timer would run out and yank you back into your own world at the ringing of a jarring game show buzzer. Katsuki's brows furrowed, his face still written with apprehension, but you continued. "I don't remember the exact day… but I remember waking up in the middle of the night. You were sitting up next to me and I could tell something was wrong… I just… held you and hoped I was giving you some comfort. Like you helped me after the whole bear incident. I didn't know until the next day that you had a nightmare…" 

He remembered. Whenever painful memories tortured him while he slept, Katsuki always remembered, even if he'd much rather forget. It was the first and only time someone had been there when he awoke in a cold sweat with visions of failure and blood far too vibrant whenever he closed his eyes. 

And he'd never told anyone else about it. 

Back inside the house, it felt like an hour as time and tension serenaded each other despite only a few minutes passing. More people had joined in the group pressed against the wall trying to overhear what was happening outside. 

"It's too quiet; I feel like he's blowing it." Kirishima groaned at the thought of his best friend making the same dumb mistake twice which, for someone like Bakugo Katsuki who prioritized a perfect victory every single time, was unheard of. 

Bored after doing nothing for all of thirty seconds, Kaminari had left his place against the wall and was currently leaning on Shinsou's shoulder who played off the close contact like it was no big deal despite having a spike of internal bisexual panic. 

"C'moooon guys! Just go outside and tell him he's being dumb or something-" 

"You do it then," Todoroki suggested nonchalantly. 

Grimacing, Kaminari shook his head and latched onto Shinsou's arm. "If this was less serious, then, yeah, maybe! I don't wanna piss him off again; especially on his birthday." 

Shinsou still wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but distinctly remembered Bakugo's embarrassing outburst at the bar months ago. He couldn't really blame Kaminari for his avoidance of a potential repeat. "Can someone at least tell me what all this drama is about? Ignoring it is getting tough with everyone acting weird and I'm too sober to tune it out." 

"It's… a long story, Shinsou-kun," Midoriya answered as he rubbed the back of his neck and stood next to Uraraka. "Depending on what happens tonight, maybe Kacchan can tell you himself in his own words."

And judging by the strained and hushed conversation happening in the garden things were not exactly going how they all expected. 

The silence between you stretched on far too long for comfort after you answered Katsuki's demand. What else were you supposed to do when all of this apparently rested on your shoulders alone? 

"If… if you really don't believe me or actually want me here… then I'm not going to keep trying to convince y-you." The last word came out as more of a whimper, your throat swelling with strain as you fought back bursting into tears on the spot. All those months of waiting… just to have your heart crushed all over again because of his fucking bullheadedness. I was so stupid to think this was a good idea…

It took a monumental effort to take a step back from him when all you wished for was to be as close as you used to be. Just for a while. Just for tonight. 

As you began to swivel on your heel, pain evident in your glassy eyes and stammering speech, an image he'd hoped to forget sprang forward like a memory resurfaced from the drowned, dark depths. 

That awful day culminated into a horrible night as Katsuki watched you cry and scream before disappearing out the door in a whirlwind of his own doing. He hadn't stopped you then, too stunned to react as you spat his own words right back in his face. The fear and guilt attempting to swallow him back then… it all could've ended so much worse. 

But you took him back. He didn't deserve it, but you did anyway. You allowed his effort at making amends with barely any time left to see the fruits of his redemption begin to ripen into something sweet and filling. 

If this were real… if you were real, there was no way in hell he'd make the same mistake twice. Letting you walk away once was difficult enough, but if Katsuki stood by and accepted watching you disappear, then he deserved whatever sisyphean punishment fate shackled to him for the remainder of his days; but you didn't.

As if Medusa's paralyzing grip on him suddenly vanished, Katsuki lurched forward, his hand outstretched in desperation to keep this illusion from slipping through his fingers. And true enough, he was surprised to find that he didn't phase through your wrist. 

Warmth. Soft skin. Racing pulse. He felt it all through his hardened calluses. "Wait… please."

The sudden grip on your arm tugged your shoulder back, but turning around to face him after resigning that this once in a lifetime opportunity ended in rejection was too much. Pressure behind your eyes swelled as you continued to fight off crumpling in a crying heap on the ground when he asked - no, pleaded - for you to stay. 

Just like before… Except  this time, Katsuki didn't let you run away. You stared at a vine crawling up the side of the house while trying to avoid focusing on the familiar warmth of his hand, the strength of his grip, and even the damp sweat slowly soaking into your skin. But he felt unsteady, something Katsuki never was, his fingers shivering as if freezing despite the comfortable warmth outside. 

So, two distrustful people waited for proof that this second chance would not slip away, one desperate for truth while the other pleaded for patience. All you had to do was turn around and face him. And you did. 

To anyone that didn’t know him, Katsuki looked exactly like you remember him. His ash-blonde hair. Those damn eyes of his that caught light like rubies. The sharp, strong jaw that framed his sharper tongue. The past six months apart just melted away as aching familiarity came bursting through the door. But, just like when he found you at the park, his face and body language betrayed his normal composure: unsure, shaken, disbelieving, desperate… everything you also felt and knew he was seeing mirrored right back. 

Without tearing his eyes away, Katsuki reluctantly let your wrist fall from his hand before cupping your face with his sweaty palms. Warm. They didn’t pass through. He was close enough to smell some faint but recognizable aroma that he’d forgotten with time. Your perfume. Only detectable when you were close enough to touch. You looked like you wanted to cry. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on… but I don’t really care.” Logic and reason be damned on his birthday; if you hadn’t disappeared by this point, then he wasn’t going to waste his time fighting against it anymore. “If you’re really here, then- hell even if you’re not, just listen to what I have to say.”

No repeated mistakes. 

“I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. I’m doing exactly what I set out to do since I was a bratty kid. And even though I’ve screwed up a lot, I’ve tried to pinpoint those flaws and fix ‘em.” You’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. “But I made a huge fucking mistake months ago, and I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to live with it while knowing I couldn’t make it right.” 

No more hiding. 

You knew him too well. He wished he hated that about you - how you managed to find shelter in his exposed remains after peeling through layers he didn’t even know existed - but he didn’t. 

Words gummed up his throat when the simplest answer was right here. With his clammy hands still preciously cupping your face, Katsuki leaned his forehead against yours and felt your shaky breath on his lips. 

The kiss was real. You didn’t disappear. Just…

“(Y/n)… Aishiteru.”

Barely audible. Fiercely soft. Perfectly understood. Your lip quivered and eyes screwed shut as the buildup finally overflowed. Katsuki returned your love even now, and nothing else was going to keep you apart tonight. 

The translator device bounced across the ground as you lurched forward and draped your arms around his neck, clinging to his hair, shirt, skin, anything you could reach, terrified of letting him go again. Choking out a guttural sob muffled by his shoulder, your body went limp as the compounding burdens of the day finally disappeared. You didn’t have to hold yourself up anymore; Katsuki was there to support you. 

The sudden noise outside caused Uraraka to chance a peek around the corner to make sure she didn’t need to break up any unfortunate disasters, but whipped back around quickly when she saw the two of you in a tender and intimate embrace on the ground. “Ooh! You g- ow!” 

Ashido had come up right behind her to also eavesdrop and earned them both potential head bruises as a result. “Owwww, sorry, sorry! What’s happening?!”

Ignoring the pain, Uraraka yelled and whispered simultaneously that you and Katsuki were kissing. 

“Ohmygod, really?!”

“YES!”

Kirishima and the others nearby heard this and broke out of their hiding spots against the wall to celebrate their hard-won victory. Kirishima threw a fist in the air, Midoriya slumped against the wall with flooded eyes, and Todoroki nodded in approval with a sincere smile. 

At this point, most of the other guests had wandered into other rooms of the house to enjoy a party with an absent birthday boy, though a few remained behind to observe the inevitable end of this secretive drama. 

“… And then he said they went to karaoke I think, so- oh, are they done now?” Kaminari turned towards the back door to see his friends were no longer acting all sad and weird. 

“Keep going.” Shinsou tugged at Kaminari’s shirt collar to pull his attention back to him. The alcohol was making him stupid and bold and the blonde extra attractive. “It was just getting good.” 

Cocking his head to the side, Kaminari smirked with half-lidded eyes. “Yes, sir, whatever you say.” 

The noisy guests indoors barely registered as you let Katsuki hold you. He kept your relief grounded while you tried and failed to stop crying. His warm, shaky breath on your neck and his arms tangled around your chest reminded you of the final embrace on your couch before he vanished and left you pressed against nothing but air. Only this time, you didn't have the last word; and oh, the bursting elation building in your chest at his words was altogether cathartic. 

He loves me. It's not unrequited. 

Telling the truth never felt so fucking rewarding as it did right then. The reality that none of this made one iota of sense left his mind completely as he buried his face in your skin as his eyes and throat ached with pressure. He saw you, felt you, smelled you, tasted you, every tiny thing he'd craved for six goddamn months. 

"Moushi wake nai," he mumbled while turning his head to see messy tear tracks on your cheek that he gently tried to wipe away. 

Sorry for being a coward. 

"Moushi wake nai…" He pressed chapped lips to your jaw and tasted salt. 

Sorry for leaving you unanswered.

"Moushi wake nai." Your noses brushed as you sniffled, meeting his glassy gaze briefly with bloodshot eyes before properly returning his kiss, albeit weakly as though your energy and strength was completely spent. 

Sorry for making you cry again.

“Aishiteru,” you echoed before kissing him again as if the words themselves reinvigorated you. Hearing it again in your own voice and inflection and accent rather than the embarrassing imitation from his dreams left Katsuki nearly breathless before you shifted in his lap, gripped the collar of his shirt, hands trembling, and glared at him with adoration and frustration in equal measure. Fuck, you were beautiful. 

“Baka ńe,” you bit out, your voice squeaking at the end from strain despite trying your best to rightfully insult him after six months of holding it in. All Katsuki could do was stare dumbfounded with lips parted in a foggy haze before you yanked him forward like old times’ sake to try and kiss some sense back into him, but you didn’t have to; he would’ve met you halfway. Would’ve fought off a hundred bears to hear you call him stupid every fucking day for the rest of his life. 

God, you’d shared many kisses over those last few weeks - some soft, some sloppy, some heart-poundingly passionate - but none of them compared to the satisfaction billowing through him right then. Or maybe it had something to do with the six months he survived on nothing but his own memories. Maybe they were all equally important in their own ways and trying to weigh one over the other was beyond pointless. Didn’t matter. Reveling in the desperation, his mouth chasing you like a starved man presented with a mouth-watering buffet, was more than satisfying. 

Alcohol, fire, and musky cologne. One second you were crying on Katsuki’s shoulder and the next his skin was marked with red trails left by your nails under his shirt collar while you knelt between his legs and a hand slithered under the hem of your dress to grip your thigh. The way your heart raced as your tongues fought for dominance made you forget about wanting to headbutt him for being an emotionally-constipated dumbass. 

This was like the real life version of those stupid Hallmark-esque movies with the tragically separated couple spotting each other from across an airport terminal, running through a bustling crowd, and leaping into each other’s arms in the middle with ear-to-ear grins. Except they never fucked in those movies, and if you weren’t in Uraraka’s backyard with Katsuki’s main friend group inside, then the Hallmark channel would’ve absolutely deemed this heated encounter inappropriate for their prudish audience. 

However, Katsuki seemed absolutely unbothered by potential voyeurism as he practically growled in your mouth and pulled you flush against him as if daring any higher powers watching to rip him away from you again. 

Straddling his lap, you reluctantly pulled away causing him to practically whine while trying to keep you right where he wanted you. But there were things you needed to explain and answers he no doubt wanted judging from the disbelieving comments and interrogation just minutes before. Smothering his mouth with one of your palms, you managed to keep him steady while wiping at your eyes that were still damp from the emotional deluge. 

You sat back on your heels and looked from side to side before spotting the translator you’d dropped. Leaning over to grab it across one of Katsuki’s legs, you really hoped it wasn’t busted from the couple of new scratches on the screen and one of the corners. “Shit…” 

Huffing through his nose at you interrupting your own makeout session, Katsuki took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. As he pulled your hand away from his face, he glanced up just in time to see familiar red hair and eyes peeking around the corner of the back door before quickly retreating back inside after being caught peeping. Only a small part of him was embarrassed, though. If he could finally tell you that he loved you and apologize for his past faults, then dealing with PDA witnesses was a walk in the park by comparison. 

He saw you fiddling with the device in your hand before slipping his fingers between yours and pressing a tender kiss to your palm, resting it against his cheek. Grounding. Warm. Real. The longing ache that had weighed him down for months seemed to vanish at your touch. Zoning out for a second, still pushing away all of the questions he had about how all of this happened, you kissed his other cheek before resting your forehead against his and stared lovingly into his eyes. 

If he said it once, he could say it again. So he did. Telling you he loved you was easier the second time, but no less impactful as you bit your lip and smiled sheepishly but oh so earnest and bright. Enough to rival those park fireworks. To put them to shame. He couldn’t help but smile, too. 

Feeling tired of sitting on the hard ground, Katsuki stood up and brushed dirt off the back of his pants before extending a hand to help you up, too. 

“C’mon… Please don’t be broken. Does this thing still work?” He watched you press a few buttons on the thing in your hand while The same voice from before came through just fine and you let out a relieved sigh. Right as you turned back to him, Katsuki grabbed your chin and stared down into your eyes before glancing at the device. 

“Tell me again for my own sanity that this isn’t a dream or illusion or anything, because that kiss seemed real as hell to me, and if it wasn’t, then I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

The tension dropped along with your shoulders as you pulled his hand away, but didn’t let go. “Yes, Katsuki. I really am here, just like I said. None of this is fake or anything. You can thank your friends for setting all of this up, but also blame them for not telling you I was coming in the first place.”

OK. Alright. So he wasn’t crazy after all. Now that he’d had a minute to readjust and most of the shock had finally worn off, your answer sealed the deal. His gut instinct to protect himself through vehement denial of the unbelievable twisted in opposition, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort. 

Then it hit him and he scowled while running his free hand down his face. 

“Those fuckers,” he cursed, eyeing the now-closed door that led back into the house. “I knew Todoroki wasn’t telling me everything! Who all is in on it? Who do I-“

Before his annoyance levels rose too high, you shut him up with a simple gesture that he rejected from just about everyone else: a hug. You tugged on his hand and pressed against him like a shield. God, he missed this, just burying his nose in your hair and shutting his eyes to savor feeling close and wanted.

"I don't want you to fight on your birthday," you said. "Oh, right. Happy birthday, Katsuki." 

"They started it," he retorted, his eyes still closed as his hands came up to wrap around your waist. "Mm. Are you my gift?" 

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. "If you want me to be, then yes." Although him calling you a gift was sweet in its own way, it reminded you sorely of his friends back inside and how they seemed to pass you around from one person to the next. You were a person, not a present, and chose to come here of your own volition. 

"Katsuki," you said, gripping his hand tighter in your own. It was heavenly being able to say his name and actually hear him answer you, again. "Why didn't you tell me back then?" 

He knew what you meant without explanation and you swore you felt the pace of his heartbeat quicken through his chest. "I was stupid. I didn't think things would go the way they did, that we'd keep growing closer, and by the time I realized what I was feeling, I didn't know what to do. It…" Katsuki hesitated and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to keep going. "It scared me. I'd never been in love before, especially not to someone I couldn't be with in the end. I could always train and learn and evolve to prepare for whatever the future held as a Hero… but I wasn't prepared for you." 

Your breath hitched as he revealed insecurities you knew were difficult to explain. Of all the things that could scare someone like Katsuki… but thinking back to everything that happened during those last few days together, it all made sense. 

"I was a coward," he stated bluntly. You knew he was frowning just from his tone. "I was angry. Back on the ferris wheel, I knew. It hit me and I knew. I was happy and you were beautiful and I just…" 

"...You panicked." Finishing his thought for him, all the pieces finally clicked together. Katsuki didn't want to leave and you didn't want him to leave, but there was nothing either of you could do about it. Fighting against the unbeatable and coming out on top was something Katsuki excelled at. Something he couldn't overcome… no wonder he lashed out. "You dummy." The annoyingly familiar pressure began building behind your eyes again. "It's OK to be scared or unsure of things. Talking it out can help, though. You're supposed to be smart…" The weak laugh at your own words hopefully obscured him from hearing you sniffle. 

His lips and warm breath caressed your forehead; the tiniest gesture was going to make you cry again from how much you missed it, missed him. "I know that now. And I won't make the same mistake again." 

I know you won't… because my time here is limited. But you refused to think about going back home without him, not when you had so much catching up to do. "You know, I was going to tell you I loved you back on the ferris wheel. I'd known for a while how I felt… but was waiting for the right moment. It was so cliché and romantic… then all the drama happened and I didn't want to make things worse with just one day left." You loosened your arm wrapped around his chest to look up at him; even under the pale moonlight, his eyes glistened like the beautiful red rubies you remembered. "So I waited until the last possible moment. I guess I was a coward, too." 

Back then, he knew. It was noticeable from the way you looked at him fondly with a coy smile that was just for show but also completely earnest. How you reached for him without hesitation. The darkness in the ferris wheel carriage couldn’t obscure what he saw backlit by city lights and fireworks. Katsuki knew, and he’d chosen to run instead. 

“Don’t,” he warned while shaking his head and holding his ground to stare down what he was so terrified of seeing six months ago. “I ran from my problems even though I would’ve called out anyone else for the same thing. There’s way more to strength and resolve than just how hard you can punch or how much you can take before going down. You did what I couldn’t.” He wasn’t afraid of your truth, anymore, nor his own. “So you better not call yourself a coward while I’m around, got it, Clumsy-chan?”

Your eyes widened and brows rose while the corners of his lips tugged into a grin. “Really? Even now, you’re stuck on that nickname?” The way you smiled through your words gave you away. 

“I’ve changed, but not that much. You’re stuck with it unless I find one I think suits you better.” He felt you attempt to tug your hand free from his pitiful rebellion, but his hands and arms were far stronger than the average person’s; it was a fight you’d never win, but the outcome wasn’t the point, anyway. 

Only now with most of his brain fog finally gone did he finally take in your appearance. Your hair was styled in an unfamiliar way, but it more than suited you. Matching earrings and a necklace that sparkled from the backyard light attached to the house. Smeared makeup circled your eyes, but Katsuki didn’t give a damn about that. And the rest…

Blinking in realization, he stepped back - hand never leaving yours - to look at the whole package. Confusion written on your face, he answered you before you had a chance to ask what the hell he was doing. “You’re wearing the red dress.” 

Yeah, he’d been right: you did look good in it. Brain dead idiot of an ex-boyfriend had as much taste as he did sense when he said it didn’t suit you. Red was always a striking color and stood out among a crowd, but you wore it well. When you realized exactly why he was staring, your posture shifted as if trying to appear more flattering to him than you already did. 

“Oh… yeah, I am. I mean, I’d only worn it once before… and I wanted to look nice for tonight. I thought about what you said about not letting anyone else decide what I should or shouldn’t do or wear. I'm guessing it was a good choice, then?" You managed a slow twirl in the uwabaki that didn't match your dress at all, the fabric flowing out from your thighs before settling back down as you stopped to face him expectantly. 

Deku's house slippers and tear-stained makeup be damned. Katsuki yanked you back towards him with little effort, catching you with an arm securely around your waist as he leaned down and caught you in a surprise kiss. The tiny squeak you let out had him smiling as you pressed against his chest and stood on your tiptoes to try and gain back some leverage, but he pulled away before you ensnared him in a willing trap. 

"You don't just look nice." The desiring glint in your eyes shifted to perplexed, but he was ready this time. "You look fucking beautiful. No extra can compare." No repeat of the "what the fuck are you wearing?" situation. 

His lack of hesitation in complimenting you must've come as a mild shock judging from the bashful way you tried to hide your smile, lips sucked in between your teeth; that, or you were still bashful about his praise. "Thank you… have you been practicing flirting this whole time Mr. I'm Bad With Words?" 

This back and forth banter was yet another thing he desperately missed; it was the small, prosaic interactions rather than grandiose displays that stuck with him the most. "No, but I've had six months to consider things I wish I'd said or done. I don't hold back with anything else, and this - you - shouldn't be an exception." 

"Glad you finally learned your lesson on that one," you concurred before leaning back and drinking him in from head to toe. "You clean up nicely, yourself. I'd almost forgotten you had other clothes besides black tank tops and jeans." Humming to yourself, you traced your fingertips lightly across the stiff collar of his shirt before trailing down his bicep. Touch-starved for close contact and affection, the small but sensual movement sent goosebumps across his skin. "Hmm, yes… very handsome, indeed. I like the jewelry, too. And… are you wearing eyeliner?" 

While you and Katsuki traded words, a small group had formed behind Jirou who had her earphone jack pressed up against the wall separating them from their friend outside. After Kirishima got caught peeking around the corner, even Jirou couldn’t hold back her curiosity as to what was going on after piecing together a rough idea through the whispered discussion of her friends.

However, it didn’t take long before her cheeks flushed and she quickly turned to disappear towards the snack table. “O-okay, their flirting really isn’t our business-“

“Flirting?! No way… but I guess he must have some game if he managed to get a girlfriend…” Ashido pondered mischievously about what in the world Bakugo’s flirting would entail as Jirou reached for her girlfriend’s hand. 

Yaoyozoru sighed. “I warned you, dear…” 

“But you totally wanted to know, too!” 

Her free hand flew to her cheek in exaggerated shame. “Oh, I know I did! I just wanted to see how Bakugo-san and Y/N-san were doing… but eavesdropping isn’t the answer. How impolite of me…”

Midoriya stood between Todoroki and Kirishima who all glanced sidelong at each other. “Do you think they’ll come back in, eventually?”

“I would think so, Todoroki-kun. They have a lot to catch up on. At least nothing bad happened…” His relieved chuckle contrasted with Kirishima’s annoyed groan. 

“Yeah, I mean I get that, but we still planned this whole party thing, y’know? And you still have Sato’s cake to bring out!”

Humming to himself, Todoroki pondered while Midoriya and Kirishima talked about cake. "But… I doubt staying at the party means more than spending quality time with his true love." 

The line made Kirishima snort. "Sounds so cheesy saying it like that, especially for someone like Bakugo, but it's also super manly to love who you love without caring what anyone else thinks! I mean, I'm not gonna cockblock my best bro-" 

"K-Kirishima-kun!" Even now as a married man with a kid on the way, Midoriya never fully overcame talking publicly about anything even mildly salacious. Searching around frantically before spotting Ochako, he decided it was the perfect time to check on his wife who was eating mochi while giggling at Dark Shadow acting like a puppy while Camie remained fixated on treating it as such. "They'll come inside when they want to and wecanhavecakethen!!" 

The redhead laughed. “I guess he’ll never outgrow talking about embarrassing stuff… but man, am I glad Bakugo didn’t totally blow it with… you alright, Todoroki?”

Still deep in thought over inconsequential details, he said, “I suppose with your quirk, you would be the best at cockblocking… like a shield…” He only came out of his trance when Kirishima doubled over with laughter. 

Calming relief replaced anxious uncertainty both inside and outside, although the current tempo of Katsuki’s heart begged to disagree.

“... Can’t believe I almost blew it.” 

Rather than stand around fawning over each other, you and Katsuki sat on a swinging porch bench situated at the furthest corner at the back of the house. You tried not to gush too much when you recognized that the earrings he wore were eerily similar to the Fantasy AU art that everyone always fawned over. They suited him well alongside the thin chain of silver around his neck and expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

It was evident he’d picked up a few pointers from his fashion designer parents when he had more to choose from than t-shirts and tank tops. 

You had finally noticed his hearing aid, as well as the newly-healed scar on his left ear. He'd reassured you that he was fine and the hearing aid was more of a safety net than necessity. It was only a matter of time before his quirk affected his hearing, but something like this would never keep Katsuki down.

“Hm? Blew what?” You leaned against Katsuki's side while he gently rocked the swing with the heel of his foot and stretched his arms across the back of the sun-bleached wood. 

Without glancing your way, he said, "I almost let you run. Half a year trying to move on and find some normalcy in my routine again. Come to terms with everything. My own mistakes. I didn't think it would be as hard as it was." 

"Relationships aren't easy," you reassured. "Especially breakups… including ones that have to happen even if no one wants them to. It was hard for me, too." Katsuki pressed his cheek to the top of your head. The weight was grounding. "Like… a piece of me was missing, and time and distractions just didn't make it go away. I mean, if I was fully over you, then I wouldn’t be here right now.” 

Katsuki remained silent as he continued to rock the bench back and forth. He knew why moving on was so difficult, thinking back to the pathetic state of self-wallowing he turned into after visiting Tartarus. Her second quirk… so, it affected both of you, then. You attributed it to intense heartbreak; and yes, while that definitely factored into it, Black Hole’s quirk complicated everything tenfold. 

Should I tell her…? Katsuki wasn’t so sure it was something you needed to know, at least not yet. 

“After months of trying to accept the mistakes I couldn’t fix and move forward with my life, you step back into it. If you were really here, then all that work I did would've vanished. Like I was back at square one, like your memory was taunting me. So, I almost let you run… but even if it seemed impossible that you were here, I didn’t want to let that chance slip away.”

You couldn’t help but frown at his words. “I told them to tell you what they were planning. Good intentions but stupid execution…” 

Katsuki moved away so he could turn to face you, his expression sincere and his eyes sharp. “How long have you known about this whole thing? How long have they been planning it? How did you even get here?”

Ah, right… you knew he’d want to know the logistics of everything considering how this all came out as a literal birthday surprise. Sighing, you fiddled with the translator in your lap and hesitantly looked up at Katsuki. “I… you know how I said I didn’t want you to be upset on your birthday?”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s not like you could’ve told me what was going on, anyway.” 

You shook your head. “No, I know that. What I mean is, you’re probably going to be upset at your friends, whether it’s me that tells you or them… “ Starting a yelling match between Katsuki and his friends seemed like an awful way to get on the good side of the people he was closest to, but he’d make them fess up either way. “I know I’m technically in the middle of all this, but I don’t… shit. Am I making any sense?”

“I see.” Why did it sound so ominous coming from him? "You don't have to tell me. But I'd rather know everything now while we're all together. If you say I'll be mad, then you're probably right. But I doubt anything they say will make you being here not worth it. They can't ruin that." The soft intensity he gave off was just as flustering now as it was back in your apartment. "And I'll try really fucking hard not to yell…" He hesitated before sighing and holding up his pinky, albeit reluctantly. "For you." 

You could've cried all over again from how adorably sappy it was to know he remembered how you insisted on pinky promises; he didn't need to know you only liked them because of how embarrassed he always looked doing something so juvenile. 

Holding up your own pinky, you twirled it around his and smiled. "I'll hold you to it. I love you, Katsuki." 

The casual way you dropped love into the conversation made his eyes widen and the tips of his ears flush pink. You said it with complete confidence as easily as if discussing the weather. How you could ever call yourself cowardly was beyond him. 

Scoffing and shaking his head, Katsuki snickered before invading your space, keeping you in place by your pinky while close enough to see his own reflection in your startled eyes. "Love you, too." Each time he said it was a little easier than the last. Besides, he couldn't let you outdo him, especially not on his own birthday. 

On that note, while he wanted to pull away to tease you just the tiniest bit, you leaned in close enough for your lips to brush. "Otanjoubi omedetou, Kat-su-ki." The slow, slurred way you tugged at his name like you knew exactly how much slack to give and take to keep him from toppling over the edge made him briefly regret wanting to go back inside at all. 

Over as soon as it began, the kiss was brief but had you smiling before hopping up from the bench, pulling him up by the hand to meet you. God, he was so fucking whipped. 

As you neared the back door where you heard the party moving on without you or the birthday boy, you slowed to let Katsuki overtake you. This was his conversation to have, not yours. Sort of. 

Katsuki paused, glanced back at you, and tugged his head towards the house before giving your hand a light squeeze of reassurance. Don't worry, I'm here. Even if they were all his friends, everyone except for Uraraka was, for the most part, a complete stranger… again, sort of. 

With a final deep breath, you turned off the translator, slid it into your small purse, and let Katsuki slide open the door and lead you inside. 

Almost immediately, you felt far too many pairs of eyes on you as the commotion and conversation died down leaving only the background music playing from the speakers. Even though you technically knew who all of them were, they didn't know you. Some were probably out of the loop completely as to what was going on judging by several confused or intrigued stares. Jaw clenched, body tense, and toes curled inside your slippers, you immediately regretted leaving the isolated safety of the backyard. 

"Oi, stop staring, you weirdos," Katsuki demanded as he kept you close to his side and glared at anyone trying to make a spectacle of the two of you. He had nothing to hide, not anymore. "This is my girlfriend. Don't make a big deal out of it." 

Scanning the various faces of everyone at that curt announcement - some shocked, some excited, some ambivalent - he stopped when he saw the four morons in charge of this so-called surprise. 

Kirishima broke the awkward quiet by strutting through the crowd towards you and Katsuki with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. However, it gradually fell as he came closer and noticed Katsuki’s obvious irritation. Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka stood behind Kirishima. “Uh… happy birthday? Again? You don’t look happy even though… “ Kirishima tried to glance your way, but Katsuki sidestepped to block you from view. “What’s wrong?”

Jabbing a finger in each of their directions, he barked out an order that left no room for debate. "You four. We need to talk in private. Now." 

"What's like, happening? Is the party already over…? Bummer." A tipsy Camie squeezed past Sero and Ashido looking flushed and frustrated at the killed mood. 

Scraping a hand down his face, Katsuki's eye twitched trying to keep his composure for your sake. Fucking pinky swear… "It's not over. This won't take long. Do whatever you want; it's not my house." 

This immediately cheered up Camie who seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding before her like a soap opera. Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka all shared a look before Uraraka cleared her throat. "Um, there's a spare bedroom down the hall we can use." 

Reluctantly, the group filed into a messy line and began walking away from the rest of the party with Midoriya at the helm. Katsuki took one step before you pulled on his arm and beckoned him closer with your finger. Judging by the reluctance written in your body language, you wanted to do this even less than he did, which meant ripping off the bandaid now would hopefully ease the soreness for the rest of the night. "Eh?" He leaned down to let you whisper into his good ear. Gesturing with his thumb, Katsuki ignored the stares from everyone else left behind as he led you by the hand down the hallway after the others. 

Once you’d disappeared, Ashido and Yaoyorozu shared a concerned glance. They’d listened to your story earlier today. The worry regarding how things would turn out in addition to this secretive surprise nonsense and being in a totally unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people was a lot to deal with. At least the Bakugo part of the equation appeared to turn out for the better…

Sero glanced around since he realized someone was missing. “Hey, where’d Kaminari go…?”

As Midoriya opened a door at the end of the hall, Katsuki pointed to one on the opposite wall leading to the bathroom. At least those Japanese lessons with Liviya were paying off a bit. And in all honesty, you kind of wanted to let them all have their back and forth without feeling like a third wheel in the corner; trying to keep up with five different people speaking over each other in Japanese was probably beyond the little translator’s capabilities, anyway. 

Turning on the bathroom light, you took a deep breath before glancing at yourself in the mirror with a jolt. “Oh, god… I really walked back inside like this?” All that crying had smeared the makeup around your eyes and left dirty tear tracks down your cheeks. “Waterproof my ass,” you cursed while digging in your purse for the makeup wipes you rightfully assumed you’d need for some emergency cleanup. 

The last in line, Katsuki closed the door to the spare office behind him as the others stood in front of a desk littered with Midoriya's unmistakable scribblings; a habit he never abandoned even into adulthood. 

Honestly, Katsuki was glad to be alone with them for at least a few minutes because he didn't want you to observe him blowing a gasket. He rounded on the nervous group as Midoriya stepped forward with his palm out as if presenting an invisible peace offering. "Kacchan, I know you're probably confused-" 

"What the hell is wrong with all of you?" His biting cadence shut Midoriya up with a squeak as he glared down at the rest of them. "I know you take pride in trying to solve my own problems without consulting me first, but why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to bring (y/n) here without telling me? How did you even get her here?!"

Katsuki was loud, always had been. Eventually, those that knew him best learned that he was actually most dangerous and serious when he was quiet, when he didn't hide behind roaring noise and bravado. And right now, with a deep set frown and shadowed eyes, the gravel in his voice was honed enough to cut glass. 

Kirishima took up the mantle of attempting to calm him down. "What all did (y/n) say already? And I'm sorry we didn't tell you before now, but we weren't even sure this was all gonna work in the end. It was a huge gamble. Plus, y'know… birthday surprise and all that…" Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck when Katsuki’s grimace didn’t budge. 

“She didn’t tell me much of anything. Said it would probably piss me off, and she’s right even though you haven’t even begun explaining yet. Besides, it’s not her responsibility to fill me in because it wasn’t her plan to begin with.” He accusingly cut his eyes towards Midoriya who was the worst out of all of them when it came to acting without thinking. “So,” he continued while crossing his arms, “start talking before (y/n) comes back.”

It seemed like their plan for a happy reunion came to fruition, but good intentions didn’t excuse the underhanded tactics to get there. 

While the group unenthusiastically took turns explaining the hoops they jumped through to get their friend and his long lost love back together - researching potential quirks, pulling favors, Uraraka paying you a visit - you were just about done cleaning yourself up in the bathroom when someone whispered your name outside the door. 

“(Y/n)…? Daijoubu desuka?” It sounded like… Ashido, maybe? 

Leaving your purse and makeup scattered on the counter, you unlocked the door and peeked outside to see a black and gold eye staring back at you. You opened the door to see Yaoyorozu standing behind Ashido, both with worried expressions. 

“Oh, uh, daijoubu desu.” Before you could attempt to try and listen in on what was happening in the other room, Ashido pushed her way inside the small bathroom with Yaoyorozu in tow before closing the door behind her. Scrunching up her eyes as if you were under inspection, Ashido eventually nodded while Yaoyorozu picked up the translator on the sink and turned it on without much difficulty. 

“I believe this is… there we go. Simple enough. Apologies for intruding, (y/n)-san, but we wanted to make sure you were all right.” 

“We could tell you’d been crying outside,” Ashido explained. “Needed to make sure Bakugo didn’t say something dumb to our new friend.” Even though they’d only met you earlier today, the two of them came to make sure you were OK? “You did a pretty good job cleaning up your makeup, though.” 

You couldn’t help but feel appreciative of their concern; Katsuki was lucky to form bonds with such strong-willed and considerate people. “Thanks, really. But they were happy tears. He almost screwed up, but quickly made up for it. I don't really blame him, though, since I think it would've been much smoother if it all wasn't, y'know, a secret." 

Your reassurance that nothing terrible happened seemed to ease their concern before Ashido huffed and crossed her arms. "Thought so. Boys can be so dumb, sometimes. Don't worry, I gave Kirishima an earful when we got here. But I'll leave most of the finger-wagging to you and Bakugo." 

"Speaking of," Yaoyorozu began while glancing at the bathroom door. "If you need to rejoin the others, we don't want to hold you up if there's nothing else you need from us." 

As you started shoving makeup back into your purse, you paused. Surely they would know, right? "Actually… I have a question about certain Japanese words and phrases since I know they can be highly contextual." 

The two women nodded confidently and said they could provide some translation help. "OK, well… what's the difference between 'dai suki da yo' and 'aishiteru'? I know the latter is generally more serious… what?" 

Yaoyorozu flushed and covered her mouth with her hand while Ashido’s eyes sparkled mischievously as a pursed grin spread across her pink face. “For one,” Yaoyorozu hesitantly began, “using ‘aishiteru’ is um, very rare. It’s reserved for intense and serious situations such as a marriage proposal… It’s a term that cannot be misinterpreted and is used very intentionally.” 

Keeping her sly expression, Ashido added onto Yaoyorozu's explanation. "Mm, yep, it's a super intense term for loooooove," she reiterated while batting her eyelashes. "It's not an everyday term, you know. And some people might never use it at all." It was like this kind of gossip directly fueled Ashido's excited energy.

All you could do was stand dumbfounded. You knew way back before Katsuki left that Japanese was highly contextual and, though simplistic, the dictionary touched on it briefly. So, for Katsuki - someone who knew full well what it meant and the implications behind it - to say it first… "Oh." 

"... Oh?" 

"Did we break her?" 

At that exact moment, all three of you turned towards the unseen hallway as raised voices echoed past the doors. Remembering what was going on in the other room snapped you out of your stupor. So much for Katsuki staying calm. "Uh, guess I should get back and see what's going on," you said while picking up the rest of your things and checking yourself one last time in the mirror. "Thanks for checking in on me. Katsuki's lucky to have friends like you." 

Yaoyorozu seemed to calm down from the aishiteru discussion and gave you a warm smile. "Of course, (y/n)-san. Hopefully, things turned out for the best even if we had a rocky start." 

Ashido nodded before opening the bathroom door to find Sero trying to listen in while pressed against the wall. When the bathroom light illuminated him, he just grinned and shrugged to play it off as no big deal. "Oh, well. Was just trying to feel included is all," he joked. “So, Ashido, don’t you owe me some money?”  You heard him chuckle as Ashido pushed him back down the hall through some incoherent grumbling followed by Yaoyorozu. That left just you standing in front of the door. The voices had died down by now, but you were still a little worried for whatever scene lay beyond it. 

The tension in the office hung heavy as Katsuki glared at a squirming Midoriya. "I can't fucking-" Knock knock. Someone at the door cut him off. Before he could tell whoever it was to get lost, he heard his name on the other side. 

"Katsuki?" 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself after hearing the absolute bullshit excuse of a story they told him to try and explain away what almost turned into complete ruin, Katsuki turned on his heel, walked to the door, and flung it open. 

No wonder you were in the bathroom for so long - you'd cleaned up your makeup and seemed less frazzled than before. He just figured you needed some time to yourself, but it also gave him the opportunity to hear out the morons standing on the opposite end of the room without feeling you side-eyeing his exasperation. 

"Hey. You good?" Nodding, you let him lead you into the room before gently closing the door behind you. Although he appeared collected, the stiff way he carried himself and the vestige of various creases along his brow and around his mouth gave the truth away. Not to mention the four people now staring in your direction looking equally drained. You finally noticed Uraraka's belly, but said nothing as she looked especially apologetic before staring down at the floor.

The room, you observed, seemed like an ordinary spare bedroom that they turned into an office space. How often they actually used it was unclear, but a few framed posters of All Might and various shelves lined with books and Hero memorabilia made it feel less sterile. Of course, the room itself wasn't important; your eyes hesitantly drifted to Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka before Katsuki stomped up to them to presumably continue where they left off before you knocked. 

"I was hoping this would be quick. Didn't think this story had a hundred different chapters to it," he bit out while crossing his arms. Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to see you leaning against the wall. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could get back to what was actually important. "So, if I'm not missing anything, you," he emphasized with a glare in Midoriya's direction, "told Melissa personal shit that wasn't her damn business, then she went and told some extra that I don't even know because he had a teleportation quirk?" 

"For the most part, yes," Todoroki answered. "We exhausted our own resources while searching, so Midoriya reached out on his own. If this didn't work, then we would've been out of options." 

While the secrecy of it all was infuriating, Katsuki was honestly amazed, but not at all surprised, by the massive hoops they jumped through for his sake. No one here would dream of giving less than 150% when it came to helping each other out; he realized that back at Kamino all those years ago. "Right… and this guy-"

"Devin-san," Midoriya quickly corrected. Katsuki narrowed his eyes. 

"Devin, whatever. Is he even a Hero? How does his quirk work? Why did he agree to help you all, anyway?" All four of them shared glances as if silently trying to figure out who would do the explaining. That didn't bode well, but Kirishima was the one who finally spoke up. 

"Alright, so, one, he isn't a Hero, but his mom is or…?" Side-eyeing Midoriya, Kirishima continued when he saw a confirming nod. "His mom, yeah. She's a Hero over in America. That's how Melissa knew him since she or her dad probably worked on support items and tech over there. Apparently, Devin owed Melissa a favor, and she used it on this." Unimpressed, Katsuki stood silently and waited for the redhead to get to the point. "Uh, as for his quirk… it is a teleportation-type quirk, but it works differently than Kurogiri's." 

Those types of powerful quirks were rare; not as uncommon as they used to be when quirks were overall simpler and less powerful, but still coveted all the same. What made this guy's quirk so special, then? "Well? Tell me how it works, Kirishima." He needed confirmation of something he was unsure of last year. Something that irked him, but he lacked proof for any kind of confrontation. And judging from how hesitant Kirishima appeared to let out the full extent of the truth, this was either going to close the case or leave it indefinitely unresolved. 

Kirishima visibly deflated and seemed to resign himself to finally telling the truth. "It works by using important objects. The more emotional attachment the object has, the further Devin can teleport, including to places he'd never been before. But he had no idea if he could even go to a whole different world. The only way we could try and make it work was to have something… really meaningful." 

Tightening his jaw while staring daggers at Kirishima's sinking frown, Katsuki took a single, measured step forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. His words held dangerously steady like a dagger pressed against a windpipe. “I want to hear you admit it.” Katsuki felt your eyes on the back of his neck, watching to see if he’d keep his promise. 

At least Kirishima’s eyes looked as fearless as ever as he stared down at his long time friend with a mixture of determination and heavy guilt. “I’m really sorry, Bakugo… yeah, I took the note (y/n) wrote for you. I swear I only saw the first couple of lines before realizing what it was-“

“I should Howitzer you in the fucking mouth.”

It was one thing to defy teachers’ orders and go on a dangerous rescue mission to save his life. But it was something else entirely for them to just assume they knew what was best for him and steal his things. “I deserve it,” Kirishima admitted easily. Telling the truth seemed to dispel most of the strain he was holding in his neck and jaw. 

Flaring his nostrils like a cartoon bull preparing to huff out a stream of angry smoke before charging at a taunting red cape, Katsuki let his hands fall to his sides and took a step back before cutting his eyes to the other three. “And you all just went along with everything? It’s obvious that his quirk did work, so why the hell didn’t you just tell me everything then, huh? And-“ Something Kirishima said struck him as odd. Creasing his brows, Katsuki turned on his heel to look at you with confusion before turning back to the group. “You put the note back,” he stated while pointing at Kirishima who nodded obediently. “Which means you didn’t use it to bring (y/n) here, today. So what the fuck was it for?”

This time, it was Uraraka’s turn to solemnly raise her hand. “Um… that’d be me. I sorta volunteered to test out Devin-san’s quirk to make sure it would be safe to go back and forth since he’d never done anything like this before…” 

"Safe?" It was just one blow right after the other with this lot. Katsuki stomped over to stand in front of Uraraka, incredulity written across his face in bold lettering. "You mean to tell me you went to her world and presumably saw her and still didn't think to just fucking tell me what was going on?" Wiping a hand down his tired face, Katsuki breathed out a mirthless chuckle. Of course they had to have some kind of contact with you before this point to explain things and get you on board with their scheme, but everything compounded was just too much to take in right then and there. "Ya know what? I don't even wanna know the rest of it." Maybe he should've listened when you insisted that confronting this now would sour his mood, but he couldn't change it now. It would've eaten at him until he heard the truth, anyway. 

He hated what he needed to do, but it was necessary. Holding out his hand to Kirishima, he said, "Gimme my spare apartment key back." 

Kirishima appeared taken aback and hurt at the request, but handing over the key Katsuki gave him as a symbol of trust and friendship was just the natural consequence of his actions. Without complaint, he pulled out his keyring and slid the key off before wordlessly dropping it in Katsuki's waiting palm. 

Avoiding looking at the others, he kept his back to them and trudged over to you with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. You looked about as tired as he felt, and you couldn't even understand most of what was being discussed. While there was more he could've pried into, salvaging the remainder of his birthday by spending time with you was far more important than wasting the rest of the night thinking about all this shit. 

Katsuki angled his head towards the door that led back to the main hallway to signal he was done here, but to his surprise you weren't ready to head out just yet. You shook your head, whispered, "Chotto matte," and brushed past him to stand in his previous spot in front of Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka. 

You didn't want to do this. You really didn't want to do this… but it was one of those unavoidable adult situations that needed to happen. So much discussion around regret and second chances forced you to confront your own anxieties about how the day didn’t exactly measure up to your expectations. Holding the translator up like a microphone, you nervously addressed the group. 

“Um… hi,” you reluctantly began. Meeting Katsuki’s closest friends and some of your favorite characters from the series would’ve been so much more exciting if the circumstances weren’t so somber. “I think you all know who I am, but I really only know one of you.” Cutting your eyes to your right, Uraraka was already staring in your direction with mixed emotions. “I know that Katsuki just talked about some things…” Honestly, ‘talked’ was a much kinder word than how Katsuki would’ve described it, but you didn’t want to rub unnecessary salt in the wound. “Still, I wanted to say a few things while I have the opportunity.” 

Deciding to start on a positive note, you brought your hands down and bent forward in a shallow bow. Staring down towards the floor, you saw Kirishima and Midoriya's feet shuffle awkwardly from your peripheral vision. "I wanted to thank you all for helping me get here to see Katsuki again. I know it must’ve taken a lot of work and planning. Me being grateful doesn’t dismiss some of the hurtful things you did, though.” Standing back up to your full height, you forced yourself to look everyone in the eyes; you wanted them to see you - truly see you - for who you were. 

"In all honesty, today didn't go at all like I thought it would. I came here unsure of who or what might greet me. I didn't know anyone and was in an unfamiliar place." You noticed as realization finally seemed to spark in Midoriya's eyes as you tried to articulate your feelings regarding their treatment of you. "The only two people I did know weren't there, and almost as soon as I arrived I was practically pushed out the door-" 

"You WHAT?!" Katsuki's raised voice would have startled you if you hadn’t expected at least one interruption. However, you didn’t need him fighting on your behalf, not when he had his own grievances to worry about. 

You held up a hand to motion to Katsuki that you could handle yourself as you watched Uraraka quietly chastise her mortified husband. “I felt like more of a burden than a guest,” you continued as the room quieted down once again. “But I’m grateful to Yaoyorozu and Ashido for helping me out even though you didn’t tell them what was going on, either. By the time I was brought back here for the party, I felt like… you all just used me as a means to make Katsuki happy.” 

At that, Midoriya wasn’t the only one appearing regretful as the consequences of their eagerness finally set in. Todoroki’s frown was small, but not insignificant if you took into account the usual calm control he exuded. Furthermore, it really pained you to see Kirishima, normally so bright and positive, looking like a kicked puppy. Even his signature spiked hair drooped as he hung his head in apparent shame. 

“I’m not a gift to give to someone. I’m a person who has just as much stake in this whole thing as Katsuki.” Only when you finished speaking did you realize your hands were shaking. Still, explaining yourself lifted yet another weight from your chest as relief washed over you. “So… while I do appreciate everything you all did, I’d like an apology. And I think you owe one to Yaoyorozu and Ashido, too.” 

Requesting an apology from Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka wasn’t exactly on your to-do list for the day, but you knew that ignoring your feelings was the perfect way to feel terrible and anxious when all you wanted to do was celebrate the remainder of Katsuki’s birthday. 

Uraraka stepped forward first and it forced you to analyze her discomfort when you tried to avoid looking at her completely during your speech. You considered her a friend by the time she left, so knowing she’d gone along with keeping their plan a secret after you tried to convince her it was a bad idea made the hurt more personal. Wringing her hands together, she dipped into a shallow bow. “I’m so sorry, (y/n)-san. Both you and Bakugo-kun are right. We should’ve explained things once I returned, but then we found out about the baby and… n-not that it’s an excuse or anything. I will say I yelled at my husband when I realized he let you leave without telling me, first.”

Having someone bow to you was probably something you’d never get used to. They didn’t need to present some ostentatious apology for it to matter; they just needed to understand why you were upset in the first place and promise to be more considerate in the future. “Thank you. I-” Reflexively, you were about to give your own apology for dragging out this little drama party, but bit your lip to stop yourself. There was nothing to apologize for, but old habits were hard to break. "I appreciate it." 

Uraraka straightened up, allowing you to really see how her rosy cheeks had rounded out even more as the baby grew from the last time you'd seen her. "And congratulations. Really, I'm happy for you." At the very least, you didn't want to add to her existing stress of, you know, being pregnant. Smiling softly, she folded her hands under her belly and uttered a soft, "arigatou." 

Turning to look pointedly at her husband, Midoriya stepped forward with frantic speed before dipping into an excessively low bow. And another. And another. It was like he'd turned into one of those old drinking bird toys that bobbed perpetually up and down, except turned up to about one-hundred and the bird babbled out a long stream of strung-together apologies in Japanese. 

You stumbled back at his sudden whirlwind of movement, but something wide and sturdy appeared at your back to help keep your balance. "Uh-" 

"Don't make it weird. We got two more apologies to hear," Katsuki grunted out right above your head as he kept a grounding hand on your waist. So, he literally had your back on this; Comforting to know. 

Uraraka tugged on her husband's shirt collar to pull him back in line as Todoroki took his place. While he didn't bow like the others, you knew his words were sincere. "Sorry about the mess we made. I suppose good intentions don't overshadow the problems they might cause. Oh, right. I never introduced myself. I'm Todoroki. Nice to meet you." 

"You didn't even- fucking hopeless." You couldn't even argue with Katsuki's indignant grumbling. Even though you technically knew who Todoroki was, it was true that this was his first formal introduction. You kept it short and simple and thanked him for the apology. Just one more left until you could hopefully put this awkwardness beyond you…

Honestly, out of everyone you knew you might meet here, you were most excited about Kirishima. He was a fan favorite from the very beginning with his talk of manliness and friendly attitude. As the first person to really make an effort in befriending Katsuki, it was no wonder they were still close years later. Even though it wasn't technically your fault, it still hurt to see the current wedge driven between the two of them.

You felt Katsuki's grip on your waist tighten the tiniest amount as Kirishima sheepishly stood in front of you. He glanced up above your head, but even without seeing his face you knew Katsuki was giving the redhead a hardened glare. "If you didn't already know, I'm Kirishima Eijirou, but you can just call me Kirishima. And… I'm really sorry," he admitted before giving his own apologetic bow, his long red hair spreading across his shoulders. "It was all the opposite of manly. Everything you said was right and it took guts to speak your mind like that. If it's worth anything, I respect that a lot. I can see now why Bakugo likes you," he confessed while standing up to his full height which was just a bit taller than Katsuki's, excluding the hair. 

Under different circumstances, you might've felt bashful at his words, but you were tired, annoyed, and your hospitality meter was almost running on empty. "You took something important that I gave Katsuki, right?" 

Clearing his throat, Kirishima nodded. "Y-yea, I did." 

"Mmhm," you hummed, wanting to make him sweat for a moment. "That was fucked up. Don't do something like that again. Understand?" At your demand, all he managed was a slow, purposeful nod. "Good," you sighed. "OK, I'm done chastising your friends.”

Katsuki took the hint and grabbed your hand to finally lead you out of this stifling room. But as he ushered you out the door, he turned around for a final glare over his shoulder and mouthed, “I’m still going to kick your asses,” before slamming the door behind him. 

Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka stood together in silence for a second before letting out a collective groan. Well, that didn’t go well… 

“So much for the idea that she’d protect us from Bakugo… I guess we had it coming, though,” Kirishima admitted, still melancholy over making his best friend and his girlfriend so upset. "Didn't expect her to look so intimidating…" The way you held yourself had him convinced that, despite being quirkless and a good head and a half shorter than him, you could've put him in the ground if you tried. Or maybe that was what you wanted him to think. Either way, Kirishima had no plans to make things worse for his friends or himself from this point forward. 

Once the two of you were in the hallway, you barely had time to glance back towards the living room before Katsuki grabbed your hand and tugged you in the opposite direction. He quickly rounded the corner at the end of the hall before you nearly bumped into him as he came to a dead stop in front of an unfamiliar door and wordlessly turned the knob. 

What neither of you expected to see were two figures suddenly illuminated when Katsuki flipped the light switch. 

“AGH!”

“Ow! You shocked me, Kami-”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Oooh… oops.”

Katsuki grimaced before turning the lights back off and shutting the door. All he wanted was an empty room, but those two idiots just had to be sucking face while half naked and- A dry retch escaped him before the cursed scene was complete. He glanced down at you, a hand clamped over your mouth to stifle a giggle before he pulled you further down the hall to hopefully find a room that was actually empty. 

Luckily, the next door he opened that happened to be at the very end of the hallway fit the bill as Katsuki ushered the two of you inside before closing the door. 

A light shade of green paint coated the walls while various pieces of an unfinished crib lay in the far corner. Ignoring all of the boxed-up decorations and lingering smell of paint for what would soon become a nursery, Katsuki leaned his forearm against the wall, putting you in shadow in front of him. 

"What-" 

"I'm sorry." You looked up at him in confusion as his jaw tensed. "I called you my gift earlier. I didn't know." Had he been aware of all the trouble you went through today, he would've chosen his words more carefully. To think that you'd been here all fucking day, passed around from one person to the next all for some stupid birthday surprise. The shit you put up with for his sake was frustratingly astounding. 

"Shit, don't scare me like that," you remarked with a huff and light tap on his chest. "I thought something was actually wrong. But that's nothing to apologize for," you clarified. "They were the ones treating me that way, even if they didn't mean to. You can call me a present if you want, just for today." 

It wasn't like he wanted to be irate on his birthday, not when he had you at arm's length again. He was about to switch the subject with a comment about unwrapping you to hopefully lighten the mood, but you cut him off as he opened his mouth. 

"I'm sorry, though. Not for anything I said back there, but just… " You leaned your head against his arm, still pressed against the wall. "I didn't want to put a wedge between you and your friends. And I wanted your friends to like me after all the stories you told me…" 

Putting an end to this shitty mood was his top priority at the moment, because if you were sad, then he was sad, and he'd been sad for six fucking months. "Listen," he said, leaning down close to make sure you looked him in the eyes. "Don't apologize for shit. You warned that I'd get pissed, and I did it anyway to get it over with. That whole conversation sucked, but I'm not gonna spend the rest of the night grinding my teeth over it. You shouldn't, either. And for your last point, they'll get over it. If I know them like I think I do, then you standing up and chewing 'em out made their respect for you shoot through the damn roof." It wasn't easy standing up to people you didn't know, but he expected nothing less from you at this point; it was one of the many things he loved about you. 

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth before pushing off the wall to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pulled back, you were smiling. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're still number one at motivational speeches." 

Katsuki snorted. "Of course I am." Dipping down, he smirked against your jaw before caressing your skin with his lips, feather-light and teasing. In all honesty, watching you act bossy was kind of hot if he didn’t think too hard about context. Too bad he didn't get very far before the door suddenly opened. 

Todoroki poked his head inside the room, locked eyes with Katsuki who gave him a ferocious death glare, and shut it a second later. He could hear conversation in the hallway. One familiar, whiny voice was complaining about being "interrupted". Knowing he'd get no privacy while in someone else's house, Katsuki backed away from the wall and stuffed his hands into his pockets as you suppressed a snicker. 

"Well, tell me what ya wanna do. We can stay here for a while longer, or we can leave and head to my place." He checked his watch: 9:47 PM. How the hell did it get so late? Wait- "How long are you here for? When do you have to go back?" With everything else coming to light, he'd forgotten to find out exactly how much time the two of you had together. If you only had a day and those idiots wasted it for some stupid surprise- 

“I’m here for a week.” He visibly relaxed at hearing that. While a week was much better than only a day or two, it wasn’t long enough; it would never be enough. “If that works for you, that is. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if things didn’t, y’know, go well.” 

Thank fuck he came to his senses before you walked out of his life forever. Again. “Why would it be a problem?”

You shrugged. “I mean, we’re kinda in reversed positions. I’m here unexpectedly, interrupting your life, relying on you for stuff even though I brought clothes and things I need with me…”

"I guess so," he admitted. "But unlike you, I'm technically my own boss. Unless it's an emergency, the others can take care of things for a week. They did it for a whole month, after all. But we can talk about it more later. Answer the other question: what do you wanna do?" His apartment was a much quieter and more comfortable space to talk and catch up properly, so he hoped you chose to leave rather than stick around much later. 

“I dunno why you’re asking me when it’s your birthday, but fine.” You glanced to your left at the closed door leading back to the hallway where you could hear faint voices and music. “While I definitely don’t want to stay super long, do you mind at least introducing me to your other friends first?” There was no way you were going to pass up an opportunity to meet some of the others. You’d spotted Jirou, Sero, and a few other semi-familiar faces; even if you didn’t get a chance to talk more with Kirishima or Todoroki, you wanted to be able to look back on some unforgettable memories with Katsuki’s other friends. 

Even though you saw his eye twitch, Katsuki didn’t argue about wanting to stay. “Yeah, fine.” Maybe a bit of mingling could distract him from falling back into a sour mood. Opening the door for you, he led you back down the hallway where, unsurprisingly, a small group had been waiting for your reappearance. Another upside of introducing yourself was to hopefully diminish the amount of gawking aimed your way. 

Wasting no time, Katsuki immediately honed in on Yaoyorozu and Jirou who were chatting off to the side. He steered you to stand in front of him as he quickly introduced you to Jirou and vice versa before guiding Yaoyorozu off to the side for some private conversation. Well, being personable wasn’t exactly his strong suit…

Luckily, Jirou took the lead and rolled through the initial awkwardness. Apparently, Yaoyorozu had filled her in on what was happening and who you were, so at least you didn’t have to recount all of that again. Rather than pry into your relationship with Katsuki, Jirou asked about what you did back home and your hobbies while you inquired about her quirk. 

Talking with her was easy and comforting with her chill demeanor. When Katsuki and Yaoyorozu rejoined the conversation, he blurted out that you were a good singer which prompted a sudden urge to strangle him. It was one thing to sing for yourself or for Katsuki, but Jirou’s parents were professional musicians and she no doubt inherited a ton of their music-making talent. Luckily, Jirou didn’t ask for a demonstration of any kind, and instead, just encouraged you to keep practicing if it was something you enjoyed. You thanked her and, before you could say goodbye, Katsuki was already ushering you towards a different friend group. 

“That was weird, but she’s nice,” Jirou commented once she and Yaoyorozu were alone again. “Seeing him hold hands with someone is kinda bizarre since I never thought it would happen, but I’m glad it did. Oh, what did he want to talk to you about?”

Yaoyorozu smiled softly. “Bakugo-san wanted to thank me for helping (y/n)-san earlier today. He said he owes me a favor whenever I may need it.” Jirou’s eyebrows shot up into her purple bangs and glanced over at the two of you now talking with Ashido, Sero, and Tokoyami. Getting a “thank you” out of Bakugo was rare, but having him admit to owing someone a favor was downright unheard of. “He really is a caring person. It’s unfortunate that she can’t stay with how happy he seems…” Yaoyorozu leaned down and gave her girlfriend a light, chaste kiss upon her hair, grateful for the joy by her side. 

While it was one thing to grow accustomed to pink skin and minor edits to the human bodies you were used to, seeing Tokoyami and Dark Shadow up close was more jarring than you assumed it would be. You knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but trying to make sense of Dark Shadow's sketchy, ethereal appearance proved difficult. Reflexively, you kept Katsuki at arm's length while Sero chuckled at how sad Dark Shadow looked at your hesitation to touch it. 

"C'mon, it isn't that scary-" A flick to his temple from Ashido cut off Sero's harmless mocking.

"Dummy, she said people don't have quirks where she's from," she chided. "I mean, they don't even have people with pink skin! Their loss, honestly." 

Luckily, Tokoyami didn't appear insulted; maybe he was accustomed to people finding his quirk intimidating. "I see. There is nothing to fear. However, your comfort remains most important." 

While you nodded and cautiously held out your right hand while gripping Katsuki's arm with your left, he reassured you that everything was fine. "Nothin' to be- ah shit." Seemingly out of nowhere stumbled a more-than-tipsy Camie who was looking around for "ghost doggy" whatever the hell that meant. If there was anyone here at this party with the potential to embarrass him in front you, it was Camie. And Kaminari. But he was hopefully too busy hooking up with Shinsou to cause any real damage. 

"Like, found you," she declared before confidently patting Dark Shadow like someone might pet a- oh. Ghost doggy. Duh. "Hm? Who's this huh? New bestie?" Did she totally space out during his declaration earlier? "Why's this phone talking weird?" She pointed a nail at the translator in your hand as you stood by awkwardly. 

"Go drink some water," Katsuki ordered while knowing damn well that Camie could down a staggering amount of alcohol before passing out on a toilet. "And since you have elevator music and emojis between your ears, I'll say again that this is my girlfriend." 

It seemed to take Camie a good five seconds to process that information, but when she did, Katsuki swore he saw a twinkle in her eye. "OMG, for realsies? You're like, so brave and stuff," she remarked with complete sincerity towards you while Sero and Ashido were already cracking up. "Cute dress, tho. I'm Utsushimi Camie, but just Camie is chill.”

“Uh, hi.” The translator butchered Camie’s words, but at least you caught her name. “Nice to meet you. You can just call me (y/n).”

Camie smiled before pointing her pouting lips up at Katsuki while still holding tight to Dark Shadow; Surprisingly, Tokoyami didn’t seem to mind, at least not outwardly. “Bakugoooo, why didn’t you spill that you were off the market? I thought we were fam.”

“Why can you never talk normally?” He could already feel impending bullshit creeping nearer. "And I didn't even know she was gonna be here, so don't throw a damn fit." While that was true, there wasn't much of a point explaining your whole backstory if your stay here wasn't permanent or at least longer than a week. 

Camie tilted her head with a blank stare before finally letting go of Dark Shadow and cocking her hip. She glanced down at you, winked, then held her hand up to her chin. “Don’t you fucking-”

Too late. A stream of opaque, light pink smoke poured out of her mouth and swirled into a tall cloud, effectively catching the attention of everyone else in the room. It only took a second for an image to appear in the smoke. A mirror copy of Katsuki now stood in front of you, albeit the fluttering sparkles surrounding him weren't exactly normal. Katsuki wanted to scream. 

"Hey there, beautiful," the fake Katsuki purred with a wink. "You made my birthday wish come true by being here." Ashido and Sero sputtered with laughter; even Tokoyami couldn't hold back a low chuckle. The only one in the room who didn't seem to be laughing was the real Katsuki. However, before he could blow up Camie's cloud, you paused your shocked giggles to point at the imposter's face. 

"Ahem… nice try, but he doesn't look right," you accused with squinted eyes. "The nose is off and his eyes aren't the right shade of red. Also, the real Katsuki has a way with romantic words that this fake just can't compete with." Accepting his defeat with mocking grace, the illusion huffed and shrugged with a smirk before the smoke dissipated, leaving only the smiling Camie behind. 

"Wow, you're like, pretty cool. But I think the birthday boy is broken or something." Her eyes drifted up, causing you to turn and see a glowing-faced Katsuki who refused to look you in the eye. Oops, I'll make it up to him later. 

Sero and Ashido took turns making kissy noises before being yelled at by Katsuki. "SHUT THE HELL UP! WHERE'S MY DAMN CAKE SO I CAN GET OUTTA HERE?!" 

While you were being introduced to his friends, Midoriya and the other chewed-out friends hung back and out of the spotlight to give the two of you some space and reflect on their actions. Uraraka rested her swollen feet in a recliner they'd bought once the pregnancy was announced. Midoriya stood nearby with Todoroki before heading to the kitchen in silence to bring out the requested cake since Bakugo’s voice cut across everyone else in the room. The most forlorn of the bunch, Kirishima leaned against the wall while finishing off a drink that smelled of strong alcohol. 

"Kirishima." Todoroki calling his name barely made him look up. "You should try to talk to him. Not tonight, but-" 

"Nah," the redhead interrupted with a shake of his head. "I've pissed him off enough for one day. I'll let him come to me when he wants." 

Uraraka and Todoroki shared a concerning look. While the earlier confrontation was far from pleasant and gave them much to think about, they knew Bakugo wouldn't be mad at them forever; they'd shared too much throughout the years to let this be the end of their friendship. Maybe Kirishima needed some time to accept his faults and mistakes just like the rest of them. 

"Oi, about time." Midoriya had lit the candles and carried the cake into the main room before giving Katsuki some space while the other guests crowded around the faint orange glow. "Candles? I'm not a damn kid- wait, how many are on here?! I'm not that old!" 

Kaminari poked his head out of the crowd. “Hey! You’re lucky I resisted eating some frosting before now! No one told me I had to do math today.” 

Katsuki groaned. “Counting isn’t fucking math- whatever…” Standing behind him, you grabbed his shoulders and turned him back around to face the cake to keep him from arguing with Kaminari. Grimacing at the candles - there were at least thirty - the sudden sound of a few people beginning to actually sing him a happy birthday song forced him to wheel back around and shout, “You all got a death wish?!” Only two notes made it out before he blew out the candles in a single gust like the Big Bad Wolf; a few of them even toppled over into the icing.

You sat beside Katsuki on one of the couches in the living room, a plate piled high with a large cake slice in one hand and a fork in the other. Of course, he’d given himself the first and largest slice and you the second. He didn’t even bother with a fork, opting instead to just eat it with his fingers. “I thought you didn’t like sweets that much?” 

“I don’t,” he answered before licking orange and white icing from the corner of his mouth. He missed a spot, but swatted your hand away before you could wipe it away yourself. "But one of my old classmates made it and he's a damn good baker because his quirk relies on sugar. He made most of the birthday cakes for us while we lived in dorms." 

"So I guess he knows what you like, then," you murmured before taking another bite; by the large bites he took, you suspected Katsuki's vocal aversion to sweet things wasn't as authentic as he claimed. It really was delicious, though - not as sweet as a typical store-bought cake, but still flavorful and rich. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone approaching the two of you, but the moist cake in your mouth kept you from greeting him properly. 

"Aren't ya gonna introduce me, Kacchan?" Hovering in front of the couch, Kaminari smirked down at Katsuki who barely acknowledged his longtime friend. 

He stuffed another bite of cake in his mouth before retoring, "Only if you lock the door before you try and fuck in someone else's house." Kaminari sputtered and spun his head around to make sure no one overheard Katsuki's jab even though Uraraka chewing him out earlier was loud enough for most of the guests to hear. "Speaking of, where's the insomniac?"

You shielded your mouth to keep icing from flying out while you attempted to recover from choking on your laughter. "Keep your- what the hell, man?!" Katsuki snorted at his incredulous face, a rare sight for someone with so little shame. "Shinsou's probably in the bathroom or something. But don't make fun of me for shooting my shot when I just wanted to say 'hi' to the girl you've been simping over for months." 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. "Too easy," Katsuki sighed. "But one, shut up, and two, what the fuck is a 'simp'?" You had to set down your plate before it toppled to the floor as you struggled to catch your breath. Their dynamic seemed even more chaotic now than what you recalled from the anime. "Oi, you good? The hell's so funny?" 

"She knows I'm right." 

"About what?"

"That you're a major simp." 

"Stop callin' me that! If it's short for 'simpleton', then that's definitely you, not me." 

"Nope. Wrong," you managed to sputter while wiping tears from your eyes and a few final coughs as both Kaminari and Katsuki stared at you. "Katsuki, that's not what simp means. But you're not one, anyway. So, you're both wrong. Also, hi. Nice to meet you…?" 

"Kaminari," he answered while a confused Katsuki pouted through his cake slice. "And same to you. But also, are you suuuuuuure…?" 

You nodded before picking your cake back up and turning to Katsuki knowing what he was going to ask. Of course, you already knew Kaminari's name, but since you hadn't formally met yet, it was a good idea to exchange brief introductions. "I'll tell you what it means later, but being labeled a simp is an insult." He was more like a kept man mixed with a snarky house husband… boyfriend… yeah, something like that. 

He licked the last of the icing from his fingers while staring daggers at Kaminari who by this point, knew the guy was mostly bark and only mildly bitey. "You're fuckin' lucky I'm in a good mood, because I'm giving you a head start. One." 

"Head start for-" 

"Two." 

Pursing his lips, Kaminari understood and began moving away to a safe distance before bending down and whispering something in Katsuki's ear. Whatever it was sent sparks flying from his palms as he yelled and leaned over the arm of the couch trying to snatch the tail of Kaminari's shirt, but for once he wasn't quick enough and Kaminari escaped towards a very perplexed Shinsou hiding out in the shadows with Tokoyami. 

It didn't take long before the whiplash of the day finally caught up to you. A single yawn had Katsuki asking if you were finally ready to go, to which you gave an affirmative nod. "Mmyeah. Just lemme ask Uraraka something first." 

While you headed over to the recliner where Uraraka was sleepily chatting with Yaoyorozu, Katsuki scanned the room and zeroed in on the sullen redhead on the opposite side. Despite not wanting a repeat of everything that pissed him off earlier, just leaving Kirishima to simmer in his own self-pity felt… if things were switched, Katsuki knew what would happen. 

A shadow poured across Kirishima's face, cheeks tinted pink from yet another drink as he looked up to see Katsuki standing over him.  

"Huh-" 

"Kirishima. Stop drinking and listen to me." He lowered his drink and winced as if bracing for round two of the harsh-but-deserved verbal barrage cage match. "I meant everything I said, and I bet (y/n) did, too. The way you guys went about all this was shitty." Kirishima frowned, but Katsuki continued. "One thing I didn't say, though… was thanks. 'Cause I know you idiots only did it to help me out with all this stuff." The love stuff, really. At that exact moment, Katsuki cut his eyes to find you standing in front of Uraraka, but you were looking at him, because of course you were. "But don't you ever do something so fuckin' stupid again, got it?" 

To anyone who didn't know him, Kirishima's sudden blubbering could've been caused by all the alcohol he downed in the past hours. But Katsuki knew he wore his emotions, even the sappy ones, right on his sleeve. "Man, I'm still so -hic- soooooo sorry! And I super duper swear-"

"You already apologized. An' I'm still pissed at you and the others. I just didn't wanna leave without saying that your screwed up plan was worth it." He left those final words as he walked away to find his way back to you. 

"Everything ok?" Your eyes flickered between Katsuki and Kirishima as you headed to the genkan to replace your house slippers with your heels. 

"Mm, fine," he grunted while flicking a wave over his shoulder in a wordless goodbye to everyone. "What'd you need Uraraka for?" 

You leaned against the wall for balance as you slid into your own shoes; even though you loved these shoes and appreciated how they made your legs look, walking around in them all night would have been tortuous. "Oh, I asked if this translator thing needed a charger or something, but she didn't have one? That the girl who made it didn't mention anything about charging it…" Four months of Japanese lessons weren't nearly enough for conversational edification despite how hardcore of a teacher Livia was, so this thing needed to supplement your gaps in grammar and knowledge since your phone didn't work here. 

Without warning, Katsuki grabbed the translator out of your hand, turned around, and yelled over the entire room in his raspy Japanese to catch Uraraka’s attention while you fiddled with the buckle of your shoe. “Wh-?” All you caught through the barked Japanese back and forth between him and Uraraka was a name: Hatsume. 

He dropped the device back into your hand with a, “Should be fine,” as you stood at your full height plus heels. Without moving his head, Katsuki gave you a not-so-quick up and down with his eyes, pausing as he stopped to meet your own. Though still shorter than him, it was nice not to have to crane your neck so far to see him. Either he appreciated that too, or admired how the shoes made your legs look. Maybe both. Probably both. 

As he buckled his polished leather motorcycle boots, he called back around the corner to someone else, but you turned to open the door and hide a yawn. He placed a sturdy hand on your lower back while leading you outside into the warm spring air. 

“Feels weird takin’ you back to my place for a change.” You felt his fingers trace a line from your waist to your hand, his fingers lacing with yours through muscle memory. He ignored the cars parked in the driveway and stopped next to his motorcycle. “My ride. Like it?”

You remembered how he stared at the stopped motorcycle all those months ago and smiled. “Looks nice; very you. Guess you decided to give into some self indulgence for once? And does this mean I get to ride back with you?”

After a second, both of you realized that, for different reasons, you could not ride back with him and said “shit,” at exactly the same time. 

Your luggage was still in Yaoyorozu’s car, and Katsuki was not going to let you ride while wearing zero protective gear. "Not tonight. I gotta…" At that moment, Yaoyorozu and Jirou came outside, the latter holding a large slice of birthday cake in a clear reusable container. Perfect timing. 

“Bakugo-san!” Yaoyorozu waved to the two of you. "Todoroki-san said you asked for some cake to take with you. And we still have (y/n)-san's suitcase in my car. We were about to head home as well and wanted to catch you before you left." 

"Suitcase?" Ah fuck, right. You actually brought shit with you, so riding with him was out even if you had the right gear. "If you're heading out anyway, can she ride with you and just drop her and her stuff off at my building?" Yaoyorozu was smart enough to pick up on the unspoken addition to his growing list of owed favors. 

She looked down at Jirou who nodded. "Sure, it's no trouble. I think I still have your address in my texts somewhere, but send it to me again." 

"Ya fine with riding with them?" Katsuki asked, pulling out his phone. "We can take the bike out tomorrow. Show you the city, just like I promised." 

That hypothetical "what if" scenario about how much he'd spoil you if he had the chance was about to come true. By the way your eyes lit up, you hadn't forgotten, either. "I'd like that." 

Yaoyorozu glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror as Jirou slid in beside her. "I figured today was gonna be busy, but not this much," Jirou joked while balancing the cake on her lap. "How does a relaxing bath sound when we get home? We can use that new tea blend you got the other day." 

Her answered smile was tired, but fond. "That sounds perfect, Kyoka." Both women turned to see you presumably saying your goodbyes to Bakugo as he sat on his bike, his boots planted firmly on the driveway to keep his balance steady. 

"Drive safe, OK?" 

"What, think I'll crash? Not a damn chance." 

"Just accept my concern, birthday boy." You tried to flick his forehead, but a quick hand swatted you away before easily sliding your wrist between his thumb and index finger and letting his hand slot with yours as gravity swayed it back and forth. Just a twenty minute separation was proving tough to swallow now that he had you back, temporary though it was. Like he'd speed off and arrive at his apartment only for you to never meet him there. But you knew his faraway looks by now and squeezed his fingers to make him feel just how real you were. "I'll see you there. Love you." 

He was never gonna get used to that, but he didn't want to. Each repeat was like hearing it for the first time - minus all the miserable heartbreak. But now, he could say it back. "Mm. Love you, too." 

"Aww, that's kinda cute," teased Jirou as she leaned across her girlfriend to mentally snapshot the two of you kissing. It reminded her of getting caught making out in the U.A. dorm kitchen by Sero and Ojiro. She was too embarrassed to look them in the eyes for a week. 

"Kyoka! Don't stare!" 

"You're staring too!" 

"N-no I'm not! I'm just waiting for (y/n)-san," she argued before turning away right as Bakugo was adjusting his helmet, his gloved middle finger waving in the air towards Jirou who just laughed. The two women quickly composed themselves as you opened the car back door. 

Buckling your seatbelt, you gave a small wave to Katsuki who revved his bike engine before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing down the lamplit street. 

You took a deep breath and slumped into the car seat before seeing Yaoyorozu and Jirou staring at you over their shoulders. "Uh… thanks for driving me. And everything else, today. Again." Having strangers haul you around town and depend on them for everything… no wonder Katsuki's short temper was pushed to the limit during his first few weeks staying with you. 

"It's no problem," Jirou reassured as Yaoyorozu pulled out of the driveway. "Bakugo's place isn't super out of the way. Considering we probably ask more of him than he does any of us, it's the least we can do." 

Self-sufficient to a fault. At least you felt somewhat prepared with what you brought with you. 

Most of the drive was silent. Yaoyoru and Jirou spoke in hushed voices over the phone directions as you gawked at the towering neon lights of late night Tokyo that closed in with the residential neighborhood left behind. 

The main glow of the city centered around a tall building that you guessed was Tokyo Tower. Although you appeared to be within city limits, Yaoyorozu drove along the outskirts and avoided the condensed city core. Bright neon signs embellished shop windows and jumbo screens cycling through product ads were plastered on corners just high enough to catch in your peripheral vision as you passed. Sirens cried in the distance and you wondered if a villain was causing mayhem between the maze of claustrophobic structures. The clasp on your purse became the perfect fidget toy for your twitchy fingers. 

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, you looked out the window to see none other than Katsuki parked one lane over and one car ahead of you; the grenade on the back of his helmet made him easy to pinpoint. Somehow, Yaoyorozu had caught up with him which meant you'd probably arrive at about the same time. He must've noticed in his side mirror because he swiveled his head, headlights and neon reflecting off his helmet, to look right at the car. Even though the opaque visor, you felt his stare before the light turned green - no, blue? Either way, it wasn't long before you lost sight of him again as the bike sped off with practiced ease. 

How the hell did they catch up to me? He wasn't a speed demon on the bike, but sitting behind some old hag who should've had her license taken away a decade ago would've dragged down anyone else when he could slip through shitty late night traffic. While he didn't want to keep you waiting, not after six agonizing months, there was something he needed to pick up before inviting you into his home for the next six days. 

Rounding a familiar corner, his building stood a few blocks away on the left. All he needed to do was park in the garage, run into the konbini next door, and wait outside for you to pull up. Easy. 

Was the garage door always this slow to open?! His knee bobbed impatiently before he slid under the creaking door while ducking his head. His spot, the one he always parked in, was predictably empty. None of them were assigned, but there was an unacknowledged, collective agreement between tenants not to take anyone else's space. Besides, no one was dumb enough to park near his bike, anyway. 

Once parked, Katsuki slid off his helmet and shook his head like a wet dog to dislodge the flattened hair… then skidded back to check his appearance in the side mirror. Good enough. 

With helmet in hand, he strode through the lot and shoved his wallet against the reader before shouldering open the door leading into the main lobby. Now, all he had to do was- 

"Welcome back, Dynamight." The ever-present Takahata tossed out a greeting from his desk. Katsuki never saw anyone else watching over the building. Hell, did the guy ever leave that damn desk? Maybe it had to do with his quirk. Katsuki never bothered to ask. 

Waving over his shoulder, he stomped across the polished tile to exit back out onto the street. But no sooner had he walked ten paces when Yaoyorozu's car pulled up next to the curb, Jirou spying him through the glass. So much for running a quick errand before you arrived; it wasn't a big deal if you accompanied him, anyway. 

When the car door opened and your heels swung down to meet the sidewalk, it really, finally hit him that you'd switched places: he, totally unprepared, was letting you live with him. Share his space, his food, his routine… fuck, was his bathroom clean?! 

A honking car blazing down the road made his eyes snap back to the present, landing on you digging in the trunk for something. Way to be a good host, Katsuki. 

Before you could drag the suitcase out of the car, he leaned over you, picked it up by a handle on the side, and set it upright on the sidewalk. It wasn't heavy, but he'd packed smaller bags for longer trips in the past and wondered if you'd sat on it just to get it to zip. 

You patted his arm before waving for Jirou to roll down her window so you could thank her and Yaoyorozu for a final time. Maybe you could ask Katsuki for a way to show your appreciation with more than just words. Of course, they brushed it off as no big deal - it was a big deal - as a hand came from behind to rest next to yours on the window opening. 

He boxed you in and extended his own rare display of gratitude before Jirou held out the forgotten container of cake. Holding it close, you waved them off into the night with his chest at your back. It was just you and Katsuki now under the illuminated sidewalk. You turned to him with a tired smile, but the fancy-looking building behind him pulled your attention away. The flawless white exterior, covered balconies, and crystal clear glass entryway exuded luxury and comfort; it wasn't Yaoyorozu's mansion, but if he lived here, then his place was no doubt bigger and nicer than what you were used to back home.

"Hey." Before you could step towards the building, Katsuki slid an arm around your waist, his lips brushing against your hair before leading you away from the building. You grabbed your suitcase handle from him as you followed and wondered if your assumption was wrong before realizing he was headed towards an open shop on the corner with an orange, green, red, and white striped sign stretched across the top of the brick walls. 

The sliding doors opened with a pleasant ding while you kept pace with Katsuki. Aisles and aisles lined with boxes, bags, bottles, and baked goods all crammed in a corner store that appeared deceptively compact from the outside. Even a common convenience store held novelty while visiting an unfamiliar country. 

It was easy for Katsuki to find what was looking for considering he stopped by this konbini at least once a week since moving in next door. The last minute snacks before a long patrol or a fresh box of bandages before returning home made him a regular customer; after a while, the things he bought in regular rotation never seemed to be low in stock. 

Behind him, the sound of your suitcase wheels rolling across the floor tiles in perfect repetition set him at ease. You were within reach. While in his world, it was his responsibility to keep you safe; lucky you, saving people was in his job description. 

The late hour meant there were probably as many customers in the whole store as there were employees working. Four, maybe five, the two of you included. He only passed one person crouched in front of a display to restock a low shelf on his march down the personal hygiene aisle. Recalling the hellish embarrassment he'd felt when you'd tasked him with picking out condoms was as predictable as it was laughable. The last time he bought some was over three, maybe close to four years ago. Now, it only took him a few seconds to grab what he needed without distress - being able to read the fucking packaging did help, though. 

With his helmet still tucked under one arm, he turned to find you looking every bit like the tourist you were. Eyes scanning across completely mundane items no doubt trying to decipher what they were if the packaging didn't make it obvious, you finally noticed him staring and smiled in that same pleased way you used to whenever he untwisted his tongue long enough to say something sincere. Those tiny, silent gestures were some of the most missed.

Heading towards the register with you at his side, Katsuki paused in front of a section of savory snacks and grabbed a small bag of his favorite extra spicy chips. He felt a tug on his arm as you hooked your elbows together, keeping him in place as you looked over the snacks, too. If you wanted one of everything just to try it, he'd hand you his platinum card and keep his mouth shut just to make you happy. But no, you didn't load your arms up with everything you could carry. Instead, you picked up a canister of chocolate and vanilla wafer cookies with little dancing pandas on the label. He snickered at how predictable you were before grabbing the tin and tugging you along towards the front of the store. 

Lucky for Katsuki, the chatty older clerk that always held a one-way conversation with him wasn't around. You continued holding his arm as he tossed his things onto the counter. Condoms and snacks: the late night birthday essentials. 

The cashier rang everything up while he dug in his back pocket for his phone. He didn't need his wallet half the time since most places took quick and easy payment through phones so long as you didn't carry around an outdated brick. 

The air was crisp as he led you back outside to finally go home. All he had to do was make it past Takahata and he'd be fine.

The front doors opened for him with you close behind, your suitcase wheels skipping over the tile gaps in a quicker pattern compared to the konbini floor. Expectantly, no one was around except for Takahata who looked up to welcome him back like he always did. "Good to see you back, Dynamight- oh." Pause. "You have a guest?" Takahata was quick to slip back into his usual composed and polite self, smiling as the two of you approached the elevator past the front desk. 

Still, his obvious surprise made Katsuki bite the meat of his cheek. "Yes," he grit out with you still close behind and none the wiser to their passing exchange. "Staying with me for a week. That fine?" It wasn't a question of permission, but one of formality. 

"Of course," Takahata answered with a nod. There was no reason for him to interrogate you, not when Katsuki had been living here for years and never caused trouble… aside from those idiots busting down his door, but that was their fault, not his. 

You waved your fingers in greeting to the man behind the front desk. The exchange between him and Katsuki must not have been important since he didn't stop to chat. No apartment you'd lived in had an on-duty security guard, so the upscale style wasn't just for show. 

Katsuki punched the elevator call button with the side of his fist, causing the metal doors to slide open. You rolled your suitcase across the threshold, yawned, and let your head rest on his shoulder before the elegant lobby disappeared behind the closing doors. 

Takahata, now alone, chuckled to himself. My, how unexpected. Quite an exciting night. Good for Dynamight-san. The Hero never had guests outside of other Heroes because Takahata had seen every single person that came in and out of the building for the past eight years without fail. So, anyone new - especially if they accompanied someone as busy and stern as the #2 Hero in Japan - stood out. 

Waiting in the elevator, you felt his free arm snake around your waist and watched his nostrils flare through your lashes. After all these months, you still remembered how to read him. There was nothing for Katsuki to worry about; you weren't a dream or nightmare or anything else that would vanish before morning. 

Only when the doors slid open did you glance at the panel to notice you were on the top floor. You wondered how the gleaming city must look from his window, envious of the imagined view compared to your own parking lot. 

He nudged you out of the elevator while you dug in your purse for the translator. Carrying a small bag meant things never got lost at the very bottom. You balanced pulling your suitcase, carrying the birthday cake, and fiddling with the translator buttons as Katsuki slid a keyring out of his pocket. Maybe you'd expended all your nervous energy earlier, but being able to finally rest was higher on your priority list than snooping through all of Katsuki's things or judging his decoration preferences. 

"Shit." As if realizing something for the first time, he hung his head with the key in the lock. "When you go in, do not wander around. Just gonna make sure it's not a fuckin' mess because I wasn't expecting guests," he said accusingly, to which you just stuck out your tongue and shrugged. "But I've got a roommate. Sorta. And she's a bitch when it comes to literally everyone who isn't me. And still hates me most of the time." 

Confused, you looked to him for answers, but he was already pushing his way inside. A… roommate? He didn't mention it earlier, and most of his closest friends seemed to be at the party, so who could it be? And why would he live with someone who apparently hates his guts? 

All your questions went unanswered as you traced his steps into the dark apartment. With the flick of a switch, the lights illuminated the genkan where he was already kicking off his boots. Well, shit. You knew his place would be nice, but it looked more like a display home set up for flattering photos than a lived-in space. 

"Just," he started as he stepped further into the living room before turning right back around to grab your suitcase and hoist it over his shoulder with little effort. "Stay here. If she comes towards you, don't make any sudden movements. And-"

"Katsuki."

"What?" 

"Calm the fuck down." For someone so self aware, he seemed oblivious to just how frazzled he was acting. "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to make things perfect. I'm just here to spend time with you." 

His nostrils flared again, but you got your point across. If you could survive him dropping in while you were asleep in your underwear, then there should be no issues having his girlfriend stay over for a week. You watched him suck on his teeth and just out his bottom lip that threatened to twist into a smirk. "Don't move." 

God, you were so- You didn't even have to try to read him so easily and it drove him fucking crazy. But he loved it. Loved you. "Stupid," he growled through a grin as he stomped down the long hallway towards his bedroom. 

He pushed open his door and swung your bag off his shoulder to sit against the wall. A moment passed as he stared into his shadowed closet, eyes cast down where he knew your other bag - the one he'd originally taken with him - lay neatly among pressed shirts and spare gear. 

Tossing his helmet, convenience store bag, and leather jacket on the bed, he wondered briefly if his sheets were clean before remembering he'd changed them a few days prior because someone decided it was the perfect place to cough up a hairball. Next, he swiped up discarded clothes around the room to drop into his hamper. He knew you wouldn't care about something so trivial, but he cared, dammit! You were right that he was far too wound up when the hard part was in the past and all he needed to do was enjoy your company. But he was gonna enjoy it without feeling like a slob. 

He listened down the hallway for any sign of trouble before moving onto the master bathroom. While it wasn't the absolute cleanest, it was acceptable considering there was no time to scrub the whole room since keeping it hygienic was essential to prevent mold and mildew.

Japanese bathrooms were far more elaborate than the average bathroom in other countries. Temperature-controlled soaking tubs, options for dehumidifying the room or drying your clothes, heated toilet seats, and digital touch pads for all of it. Of course, Katsuki's place had all of the modern comforts plus a few extras that he didn't even use. The bathroom was a big selling point for the apartment considering he needed somewhere to unwind and relax his muscles after rough days. 

Scanning the room for anything worth hiding, he spotted an open bottle of lube on the counter. He snatched it with a curse and dropped it in the nightstand drawer next to his bed. Not that you'd care since sex wasn't the same worry it was in the beginning, but whatever; he was too accustomed to hiding all of his personal things for the sake of privacy, and Kirishima's earlier admission did little to assuage that reflex. 

"Oh, Kaaaaaaaatsuki!" 

Hearing you call his name had him realizing he hadn't seen Princess Explosion Murder since returning home. Shit. Katsuki stomped down the hallway and hoped he wasn't about to find you fighting off his-

"So, why didn't you tell me you got a cat? Hm?...What?" Just like he'd ordered, you hadn't moved from the genkan, but the whole scene made… no sense. You knelt down with your hand outstretched while his terror of a cat rubbed her face against your knuckles, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth in the air. 

He ran the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip, totally baffled at what he was seeing. "... What'd you do to-? She hates everyone."

You just looked between the purring cat and Katsuki and shrugged. "I doubt that. I just did the slow blinking thing and let her come to me. You're so pretty and fluffy, yes you are! Such a sweet kitty… your dad is just making things up, yes he is." 

To be honest, he should've seen this coming. You with your otherworldly ability to befriend the most ill-tempered person around: first him, now his demonic cat. The absurdity of it all made him snort out a laugh, but it switched to a hacking cough when you called him a "dad". "What the fuck. Do not call me her dad or any equivalent." 

Ignoring him, you stood up and gestured down at Princess. "You still haven't told me her name- wait! Let me guess… mm, Snowball is too cliché. Knowing you, it must be something ridiculous and over the top." 

"Tch. You'll never figure it out, but it fits this bratty cat perfectly." As if knowing she was being insulted, Princess leapt to the back of the couch and stared at him with what he could only describe as unfiltered disgust. He was used to it at this point, though, and sneered right back. "Gimme this," he said while taking the cake slice in your hand and walking it to the fridge. 

"Your apartment is nice." You followed him into the kitchen and soaked up what you couldn't see from standing in the genkan. Just like he mentioned, it was much bigger than your own home and could've passed for a single story house from the living room and kitchen alone. "And such a big kitchen… oh, before I forget, did you like the hot sauce?" 

With the cake put away, he closed the fridge with a shoulder lean and turned to you. "What're you talking about? What hot sauce?" 

You reached across the counter to examine one of the many spice bottles lined up on a matte black floating shelf. Despite the organized minimalism evident in his personal design choices, little details made clear exactly who lived here. "The one Uraraka was supposed to give you during the holidays. Wait, don't tell me you never got it." 

Poking out his bottom lip, Katsuki narrowed his eyes until they cut back to the fridge. He yanked it open, rattled some bottles and jars around until he pulled out a familiar bottle. "This? This hot sauce? Uraraka gave me some story about a fan wanting me to have this, but- damn, I knew something about the taste was familiar…You made this with the peppers that made me sick, didn't you?" 

"I mean, yes," you admitted without shame while stepping closer to examine the bottle that now looked half empty. "I was worried you wouldn't like it, but glad to see I was wrong. And I tasted it before giving it to her, so I know how spicy it is. I think this was the… second batch I made."

He twirled the unlabeled bottle around to mix the settled contents while shaking his head. "You're ridiculous." His eyes flickered from the homemade hot sauce back up to you, tilted grin and all. "Was she right, though?" 

You knew that tone, dipped in his own specialized brand of fiendish teasing paired with a small side of bashful consideration. Leaning back against the black marble counter, a flash of déjà vu tickled at your memory. "Right about what?" 

One step, two, three. If you were a stranger, having a scarred man with burning eyes lock you against the counter between his arms might've been intimidating. But your composure remained steady. "Are you a fan?" 

"Of the one and only Bakugo Katsuki," you began as you rested your arm against his and let your fingers fiddle with the fabric rolled snug around his forearms. "Or of you the Hero? Or both?" 

You felt the muscle twitch under your palm while he hovered as if simmering on a low, steady heat. "I'm no different out there than I am in here. No fake persona. Me an' the Hero Dynamight are one and the same." 

As you listened to the translator, something sounded unfamiliar. You tapped his forearm with a nail and said, "Dynamight? Dynamight, like the- wait, is that your Hero name?" 

"Yeah? Technically, it's longer than that, but got shortened- whatever, you know that." 

"No, I don't. You never told me."

Now, it was his turn to be confused. "I definitely did."

"Uh, no?" Incredulous, you poked him in the chest. "I would've definitely remembered considering how big a fan I am," you argued, tossing his words back in his face. 

When it came to you, Katsuki was all bark and no bite. His lip curled as he squished your cheeks with his hand. Maybe he knew he was wrong and just didn't want to admit it because he missed the pointless bickering as much as you did. Whatever the reason, you didn't mind his softening glare rimmed with crisp eyeliner. "Dummy." The way his eyes lingered on your puckered lips lined with the faint tint of faded lipstick made his intention obvious. 

Katsuki pressed his mouth to yours while he loosened his grip on your cheeks. The edge of the counter dug into your back as he stepped fully into your space, his breath tasting of mint flavored gum. You dug your fingertips into his tense forearm as your eyes closed and mouth opened invitingly. 

Calloused fingers traced the profile of your jaw down your neck, goosebumps accompanying the shiver down your spine as his canines tugged at your bottom lip. To refamiliarize yourself with his taste and touch and smell, to open the map you'd drawn from traveling his peaks and valleys in what seemed both like a lifetime ago and no time at all meant everything. His heart was finally bare, ripe, and within reach. 

Your pulse was warm and rapid between his lips and across his tongue as he pressed his hips to yours and fisted the cherry fabric of your dress. There was time for softness and patience, but that time wasn't now. Not when- 

CLATTER 

Both of you stilled. Katsuki ground his molars together and huffed through his nose before slowly craning his neck to glare over his shoulder with your fingers still gripping the top fastened button of his shirt. 

A green plastic cup rolled across the kitchen floor before stopping at the edge of a growing puddle of water. 

"Mrow."

The culprit sat staring at the two of you, the tip of her tail flicking over the edge of the counter. Katsuki sneered and you snickered in his ear. Getting cockblocked by his own fucking cat... I hate you.

"Oi," he snapped. "You know you're not allowed on the damn counter!" Twisting away from you, he hissed out a vulgar string of curses and slammed his palms down on the marble. The intimidating tactic worked, sending Princess Explosion Murder hopping to the floor with a chirp. 

"Katsuki! Don't be mean." Coming up behind him, you lightly flicked him on the side of the head before picking the cup off the floor. "She's a cat. Cats knock things over if you leave them sitting out." 

You didn't know that brat of a cat like he did. The cute and innocent act was just a front before she revealed her true nature when you least expected it. Sure, maybe she'd become more comfortable around him over time. And yes, maybe the scratches on his hands and arms had finally begun to fade. But deep down, she was still a menace, just like him. 

Not wanting to start an argument over something so small, he huffed before snatching a dish towel and tossing it over the spill. "Anyway," he said while his foot led the towel in a circle. "It's still my birthday for about…forty minutes." For the first time in years, Katsuki wasn't eager for his birthday to end just yet. "Ya want a quick apartment tour or what?" 

You swiveled on your heel and scanned the kitchen and living room. There were photos lined up on a bookshelf you wanted to ask him about. The minimalist, modern style coupled with specks of his life and personality begged to be studied. And of course, the still-unnamed cat who stared at you from a tall cat tree in the corner no doubt had an interesting backstory. But you had time; not a lot, but you could ask about all these things and more tomorrow. 

"Lead on, Dynamight," you affirmed, holding out your hand for him to take. Without hesitating, Katsuki reached across the counter and seized your fingers to pull you behind him with a small, satisfied grin. A laugh bubbled out of you as he dragged you down the hallway in his cute little house slippers. 

When he said quick, he meant it. Despite opening up just about every door leading directly to the hall, you had a generous thirty seconds to look around each room before he insisted on showing you the next. One was empty aside from one of those fancy robot litter boxes and some toys, another was an office covered in a thin layer of dust, and the most used room was filled with well-loved workout gear: a punching bag, a rowing machine, a rack of hand weights, etc. 

Even his bathrooms were fancy; not quite as extravagant as Yaoyrozu's, but certainly the nicest apartment bathrooms you'd ever seen. "Unfair," you murmured, jealous of the simple advancements that appeared commonplace in most Japanese bathrooms. "What's it like having a tub big enough to actually relax in?" 

Katsuki snorted. "Pretty damn nice. But I don't use this one much. The one attached to my bedroom is bigger.” 

“Bigger?” Did he have a jacuzzi or hot tub or what? “Seeing all this, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t complain more about my cramped little apartment.” 

He looked almost offended with matching slanted lips and brow. "I wasn't gonna complain about you givin’ me a place to stay. Maybe when I was a bratty teen, but not so much now.” 

Aside from that first stressful week, he really didn’t comment at all on your mismatched furniture or lack of space. Honestly, your apartment was cleaner when he was there compared to when he wasn’t. “Fair. But really, your place is very nice. Kinda big for just you, though.” 

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking more solemn than you expected. He shrugged, the weight visible on his broad shoulders. "Shacked up with Kirishima after we graduated, and Kami was basically a roommate who didn't pay rent with how often he crashed there. But I like my own space." 

So much left unsaid. You padded back across the cool, white floor to mirror him. Under the fluorescent lighting, his exhaustion was more apparent, like he'd aged at least a year rather than six months. "That's something I like about you. Loud quirk, loud opinions, loud mouth." He couldn't argue with the truth as he rolled his eyes. "And you're still fine just, y'know, sitting with silence. I could lay on the couch and read and you'd cook and– and I really missed it. You. All of it." 

Katsuki's knee bounced as he pulled his lip between his teeth and stared, searching your face for something only he could see. "Yeah. And you're right. This place has more space than I need. Just didn't realize it 'til you came along."

The lump in your throat grew the longer his eyes lingered. "As much as I admire your guest bathroom, can we finish up the tour now?" 

He hummed before backing out of the doorway with small, slow steps. You followed him down the hall while he ignored the rest of the unexplored rooms and pushed open a final door at the end of the hall on the right. "Here's my– hey! Little fucker." 

Poking your head around the corner, you had little time to take in the one room you'd seen so far that actually looked lived-in before spotting the Unnamed Cat using your suitcase as a scratching post. "Hmm, well that's not nice." As Katsuki tried to shoo her away, she instead climbed on top of the bag and sat her fluffy butt down on the handle. "Alrighty, let's go Miss Troublemaker," you said before attempting to do the same, but even your gentle hand earned a swat that would have left a nice scratch had you not pulled away. "Wow, and I defended you earlier. I see how it is." 

Rather than fight a cat to take back your bag, you bent down and pushed it across the floor with her still sitting on top before letting it coast right out of the doorway. "Sorry! Be nicer next time!" She meowed as you closed the door with a wave. "Maybe don’t scratch my things next- what?”

Katsuki stood with a shit-eating grin, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Told you she was a bitch," he bragged. "But if you leave your bag out there with her, she'll shred it out of spite." 

"As long as she can't get inside it, then it's fine since the bag is old, anyway. And just tell me her name so I don't have to spend all night guessing," you conceded while plopping down on the end of his bed. Your palm slid across the plush, dark comforter as you cocked your head to the side.

"Give up on guessing after one name? Weak. But fine. Princess Explosion Murder. Don't fuckin' gimme that look! She's a spoiled brat filled with malice disguised as a cat." 

Your shoulders shook as you heaved with laughter at how beautifully awful the name was; only Bakugo "Dynamight" Katsuki whose failed attempt at naming himself King Explosion Murder as a teenager would've carried on the legacy through his very first pet. "Y… you're the one who spoiled her!" Trying to talk through the giggling made your chest hurt, and his exasperated grimace just added to the hilarity. "Her collar has rhinestones on it! Princess Explosion Murder, oh my god… I love you so much." 

As you tried to catch your breath, Katsuki's hand groped the wall behind him for the light switch and dimmed the bulbs low; one of those small quality of life things he never used, but was now grateful for. His steps were quiet as he made his way to the edge of the bed before digging one knee into the mattress and shading you from the ceiling glow, hands on either side of your head. It felt like no time had passed at all as he hovered, watching your eyes crinkle and cheeks swell. How easily he fell back into old routines of chatter and jabs that often ended in delighted silence. At last, you looked up at him, smile still wide and bright and full of- 

"You swear you're real?" Despite everything, believing you were really here still seemed too good to be true. Too much of a dream for reality to uphold. 

The corners of your lips dragged down into something more solemn, but your gaze remained steady with your hands on your chest gripping the translator. "Yeah, Katsuki. I'm real. Are you?" 

His fingers clawed the sheets as he licked his bone-dry lips. "Yeah," was all he managed before you reached a hand forward with careful grace. Goosebumps pebbled his skin as you caressed his jaw, his cheek, his hair. 

“Show me,” you implored with soft words and hard eyes.

So, he did. 

While the last time the two of you were together was saturated with slow and memorable passion, you met his lustful fervor with hunger of your own. Six months of dreaming, imagining, and yearning for each other culminated in clawing hands and starving mouths hunting to whet their appetites. Knocking teeth went ignored in your fervor to grope every inch of warm, bare skin you could reach, but it wasn't enough. You swore you heard a button fly and hit the wall when he flung his shirt to the floor, desperation mixed with adrenaline to press heartbeat to heartbeat. 

The bed was unfamiliar and big. The room, too. Everything was foreign, except for him. You knew him then and you know him now and you wish with everything - more than you could ever fathom - that you would know him in the future. Every lifetime, every universe where you and he may exist. Praying with blistered hands until your knees were raw and bloody to never forget the fiery salvation of loving Bakugo Katsuki. 

Piece by piece, clothing piled onto the floor, save for your dress. He took care with the back zipper, fingers slowing to let the fabric fall away before folding it with deft hands and draping it across the back of a chair in the corner. You wouldn’t have cared much if it got a few wrinkles, but the sweetness of his consideration was endearing. The dress you hated before he came along now reminded you of his ruby eyes that you'd yearned to see one more time. He said you were beautiful in it, and now you felt beautiful out of it, too. 

Katsuki found solace in your thighs, your hips, your ass, wherever his hands could grip after flipping you over to sit right on his face. Six months? No, it seemed more like a lifetime of waiting led the fervor that surged through him while you folded your arms against the headrest of his bed and whined into the crook of your elbow. He put that sharp tongue of his to work and left a trail of finger indents behind - evidence to find tomorrow that tonight was as real as any other.

Sweat pooled behind your knees as Katsuki kept you right where he wanted you. He countered every attempt at hovering with a breathy grunt, yanking you back down as if insulted at the miniscule distance you tried to create. 

Katsuki was a sun: hot, searing, bright with energy and passion. A man made of starfire and kindling just itching to combust under ripe conditions. The way his mouth moved - without hesitation and burning with hunger - confirmed his piety. You were the idol of his worship. His devotion. His tongue pushed hymns from your lips, eyes closed in ecstatic prayer. 

"A-ah Katsuki… fuck, I'm-!" To drown in your waves was holy bliss, holding you in place with sweaty palms while your thighs squeezed and back arched. Glancing down between your legs, he was already staring up at you, eyes dark and blown wide with lust as if committing your ecstasy to memory. Of course, he wouldn't be Katsuki if he didn't throw in a smug smirk, too, boastful even when his mouth was full and messy. Panting and whimpering through your teeth as you edged towards overstimulation, you reached down, grabbed a fistful of blonde hair, and tugged so you could lift yourself from his greedy mouth. 

Eyes rolling back for only a moment, Katsuki groaned as the growing need between his legs throbbed. Even though the day had been long for him and even longer for you, the room sweltered with lecherous and passionate energy. With your hand still in his hair, you leveraged the headboard to straddle his hips and crash your mouth into his, lapping up the stickiness that covered the lower half of his face; he'd always been a messy eater, why would this be any different? 

He hissed as you slid against his length, neglected from focusing on you and your pleasure. But the way you scraped his chest, skipping the teasing in favor of wordlessly begging for more, as much as he could give. You had his love, wrapped up like red silk shibari with all of its tidy knots and careful weaving. You could have his body, too. 

Growling in your ear, he groped the crease where your ass met your thighs and decided a riposte was due, flipping your positions. You landed with a squeak as your head hit his pillow, but quickly recovered to wrap your arms around his back. He just needed-

Fuck, where is it?! Leaning up on his hands, Katsuki glanced around the bed looking for the konbini bag while you scraped along his skin, whining and trying to pull him back down. With reluctance, he untangled his legs from yours and almost dove over the side of the bed before spotting the bag and his helmet. Goddamn cat must’ve tried to score a late night snack without him noticing. 

In one swift motion, he snatched the box of condoms out of the bag and tore it open with his teeth. The box and condoms scattered onto the floor as he destroyed the foil wrapping before finally getting the condom on. And despite putting up the bottle of lube barely an hour ago, he spaced out for a good two seconds trying to remember where the fuck he put it while you slid over and tugged on his arm, eyes pleading in the darkness to hurry the hell up, already! 

When the neurons in his brain began firing properly, several things on his bedside table threatened to topple over when he yanked open the drawer to grab the bottle of lube. It dripped onto the floor and edge of the sheets before he tossed it somewhere unseen. He ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth as he lunged over you, slick hands pinning your wrists above your head. 

Your chest heaved and mouth parted below him as he slotted between your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He felt your pulse throbbing under his palms, fingers grasping at warm air circulating around the closed room. You were so fucking beautiful and just… here. Not an obscene daydream. If you were, this would immediately go from the best to worst birthday in recent memory. The way your hips shifted urged him to come closer. 

So, he did. 

The way you bit your kiss-swollen lips begged for him to dip down and meet them with his own. 

So, he did. 

And you had to do nothing at all for his hands to slide up and intertwine his fingers with yours. This time, his love would not be silent. 

The mattress had moved off-center from the frame and slats. The sheets had all bunched up at the end, cascading down into the floor. The heavy pants, raucous moans, and salacious slapping of sweaty skin had quieted. All that remained was Katsuki's breath in your ear, his chin tucked into your neck, and slowing heartbeat heavy against your back. Katsuki wrung you dry of every speck of energy you'd scraped together after barely sleeping for the past forty-or-so hours. All you wanted to do was pee and sleep for however long he let you. 

Wriggling your arm free from under his muscle-heavy weight, you gave his backside a light tap to try and get him up. When he didn't move, you wondered if he'd fallen asleep without even pulling out. But eventually, he peeled himself from your back with a raspy grunt. Cool air sent goosebumps along your exposed skin that sounded like Velcro when he pushed himself up from the mix of dried sweat, lube, and saliva covering both of you. Hissing when he pulled completely out, you clenched at the emptiness right as Katsuki flopped next to you, arms outstretched and limp. Knowing you'd fall asleep if you didn't move, you forced yourself up on shaky arms and moved to balance yourself, but Katsuki shot out a hand to grab your arm and pull you back down so he could kiss you without even bothering to open his eyes. Like he knew exactly where you'd be. Like he'd always know. 

When he heard the bathroom door close, Katsuki sat up with bleary vision and wiped at his face. Fuck, what are wild birthday… he glanced at the clock nearby, squinting to read 12:37 glowing in the dark. He nearly slipped when standing up from the spilled lube and wrapped condoms spread all over the floor. "Fuckin'..." Too tired to bother cleaning it up right then, he grabbed a towel from the hamper and tossed it over the mess before opening the bedroom door with a yawn and promptly stubbing his toe on the bag you left sitting right in the middle of the hallway. "Shit!," he cursed, sucking in a breath through his teeth before kicking the suitcase into the bedroom, letting it roll to a stop as he stumbled down the hallway to clean up. 

Far too exhausted to do any of your normal bedtime tasks, you dragged your feet across the floor before turning out the bathroom light. You wouldn't die from not brushing your teeth or washing your face for one night. Was it terrible to sleep in makeup? Yes, but whatever. Sleep came first.

You fell into bed and grabbed the crooked sheets, pulling them up to your chin while burying your face in the single pillow that remained on the bed. Already feeling yourself drifting off, you felt the bed dip before a warm arm snaked around your middle. You buried your face in Katsuki's scarred chest and draped your own arm over his waist. Waiting six months just for the opportunity to fall asleep with him again. To smother in his scent of burning caramel and musky wood. To whisper into his skin. Yeah. Yeah, it was worth it. 

What was the… ah, right. "Dai suki da yo, Kat," you mumbled with your last bit of drained energy. With his heart pressed against your cheek, you kissed his skin stained with dried, salty sweat. Katsuki’s legs languidly tangled with yours while he buried his chin in the crown of your hair. 

“Mh. Dai suki da yo…” Quiet. Sleepy. But still, you heard it. You wished you could hear it every day. Every night. Forever.

___________

ummmm here u go byeeee plz kudos and comment and share with ur friends and tell me how the wait was worth it so i can cry a lil :')))) please follow my tumblr https://thetrashywritingwitch.tumblr.com bc i live on tumblr, it's my main website. come talk to me, send me asks, and keep up to date with what i'm doing do yall dont think i'm dead :))))) ALSO since this has become an issue int he past year: DO NOT EVER USE MY WORK IN AI OR TEXT GENERATORS!! I don't consent to anyone "finishing" or "continuing" my fics through AI in any form!!!! AND DO NOT use my work in any youtube/asmr/tiktok videos without my written consent!!! you can mention me and link back to my work and post about how much you 💖 my fics hehhe BUT you cannot do voice overs of my fics or anything like that, esp not for ad revenue or profit!!! ok fr byeeeeeee (no the fic isn't over or done we still have like six or so more chapters until the end 🥰)

Tagged list: @featherboawing @108052921 @bemyhero-academia @hentaidemon69 @makarovs-brat @alexparrsih @desia22 @justalittlecrazybutimok @trashqueenbitch @loverbug1123 @manq-fandoms @theworldsgreatestdisapointment @dabwithperkins @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @i-am-fandoms-and-satan @eternal-apricot @grumpbisexual @apsara-study @nyantodamax145 @bakuhoetoedoroki @stargazerunlimited @fairyf3v3r @the-abyss-of-fandoms @raeyn-muir @lilithbasically @spicywrites

[draconixiaa]

dream's mask and symbolism

recently (or rather, some time ago, at this point) i saw a post on the symbolism over dreams mask but i felt awkward just putting my own opinions on a reblog so my spiel will appear here:

the purpose of a mask is to hide and/protect someone's face, whether it be about identity, physical image, or safety during a pandemic. thus, a person using a mask has something to protect: usually one of the three aforementioned concepts.

the mask: whole

cdream, his skin, obviously does not have a mask, but the characterization of him having a mask originates from cc!dream's facelessness. the popularity of that concept made it so that it is popularly accepted that cdream dons a mask wherever he goes, and the fact that his skin does not change much throughout the majority of the server also helps in the wide acceptance of this theme.

therefore, we establish that cdream wears a mask throughout the majority of the dsmp, up to ctommy unmasking dream during his disc confrontation and cquackity doing the same in prison, and then also after the prison arc until the very final lore stream.

physical image

cdream hiding his face means that he has something to hide & protect, and in literal terms, this would be his physical image. when someone wears a full face mask, no one would be able to know what they truly look like, and this gives them an element of mysteriousness, and in cdream's case with the simplicity of his mask, allows him to be even more terrifying. this also leads to my second point: by hiding his physical image, no one would be able to see how his appearance changes over the course of the storyline.

characterization

cdream's character changes drastically throughout the storyline of not just the disc saga but also with l'manburg/manburg/pogtopia/etc and the prison arc. he begins with pure intentions, ends with the same intentions, but all throughout, his method of reaching his ultimate goal changes: from manipulation, to war, destruction, and self-sacrifice, etc, etc. he becomes more and more desperate, more and more willing to do whatever he can to achieve his goal. he also initially refutes that he is a villain, but then changes to embrace that role more and more.

meanwhile, cdream is wearing a mask. his physical appearance does not change much; people are able to keep on easily believing that cdream is a powerful and ruthless character without much emotions. oh right, masks also hides someone's faces. literally and figuratively, as he further embraces his role as a villain, cdream dons a physical mask and a verbal one to distance himself from the server to be seen as such an evil character.

this image of a powerful and evil character is what the masks does for cdream. he (or this image of him) is everlasting, almost like a higher being, and a malicious one at that.

characterization II

but, in all truth, cdream is very vulnerable. for as much as he claims that he has destroyed his attachments, these very feelings of protection and homeliness are what drives him to do what he says and does, especially as revealed during the dsmp finale. he changes so much behind that mask.

the mask: destroyed

as mentioned above, this occurs arguably on two occasions: the disc confrontation or also in prison. both have similar but also different implications.

disc confrontation

it is at this finale that ctommy gets his moment; he shines by breaking away cdream's protective shell and getting his rightful vengeance by killing him twice before sending him to prison. he pressures cdream with the presence of the server to take off all of his armor, and proceeds to kill him. for some fans, the armor represents cdream's mask-- particularly the helmet-- since he is always seen with his armor on in the server. as is with almost every other pvp-oriented person on the server, but ive digressed. taking off the armor is part of taking off that which is hiding what is inside cdream: his physical body, and his well-being. perhaps in the scene where he is compelled to throw his armor into the hole is part of him letting go of his image of a tyrant, but personally, i'd disagree, since the disc confrontation was all planned and organized by cdream; the armor, perhaps, is just the first layer.

the confrontation was all supposed to be under control-- his control. the armor and hole scene, cdream probably would've predicted; he went along with ctommys commands without much resistance, and honestly, this moment is just as symbolic to ctommy as cdream. just as cdream is pretending to let go of his image, or his powerful image is forcefully shoved off of him: ctommy is doing to cdream what he did to ctommy. this is the retribution of the golden rule: treat others how you'd want them to treat you. just as how cdream stripped ctommy bare of all his friends and protection in exile, thus also ctommy to cdream of his items and the power that he held from having them, including both the advantage in pvp and his frightening image. dream probably knew this was going to happen, since thats what you do when you want to kill someone. but, after the armor and the hole scene, ctommy kills cdream-- once, which was alright, fine, he also knew this was going to happen, and then twice. by the time he came back after his first death, cdream was screaming for mercy.

the cdream deaths are also widely interpreted as him losing his mask. or at the very least, it cracks. maybe ctommy was merciful enough to leave the last bit on, or maybe it was all shaken off as cdream begged and pleaded to be let to live-- and then the reveal of the revive book in his hands. but before that, when cdream was being killed: this is the physical shaking off of his very precious lives, the two extra chances he has at living, something preciously irreplaceable. thus, cdream realizes that the situation is spiraling out of control. he has to time this very well, between satisfying ctommy's anger and the reveal of the revive book, as well as his life. this is a gamble on his life. at that moment, cdream is showing his own true desperation, freed from his mask out of fear of death, freed from his mask by ctommy (the very person he sought to control, and the very person seeking to destroy him). look at the irony!

prison & cquackity

perhaps the mask also represents the control the cdream believes that he has over his surroundings. in the prison, cdream is either maskless (going with the above scenario), or half-masked (for cquackity to finish destroying).

either way, cdream's maskless-ness represents how he has no protection, no outer image, nil, none. this protection manifests itself in cdreams mind as the perceived control he has over situations because of the image he believes he has created for himself, because with this villainy, he can control the movements and actions of others. in the prison, though, when he is fully unmasked, he is all open for his visitors to see and tear open and look for themselves: who cdream truly is. maybe this is a good thing, that people will be able to see his true self-- not a villain, but a man with hopes and dreams. thus, when cquackity comes around, what he does is tear cdream, already unmasked, further apart. there is no more armor to protect him, and inside the prison, all thats left of cdream is his real body, and his real mind. and by real i mean unmasked, and not faked.

i like the other interpretation better though: that cdream goes into the prison half-masked. he still has a semblance of control, because he has punz, and technoblade, right? he planned for himself to go to prison... but what he didn't plan for was cquackity's deal with the warden. this is when he loses the rest of his mask, because this is when he loses complete control over not just the situation, but what happens to his own body, and he also can no longer influence other people, because he has no more power. he's being starved, tortured, and confined in a box with no escape nor contact with anything outside the prison; when cquackity comes, csam shuts down the ability for anyone else other than cquackity to visit cdream. so this, the point when he loses the rest of his physical mask is the same as the point when loses the rest of anything, any thing else that he could possibly have control over.

the mask: re-made

after prison, what does cdream do?

cdream gets his armor again, and he puts his mask back on. this mask physically and symbolically hides the effects of the prison on his being: the scars of both the body and the mind. he goes back to being powerful, being a big bad end-game boss, hiding in his mighty prison of which no longer traps him but is his safe place (a whole analysis post on the prison can be made holy) but also to others, the evil villain's lair... cdream resumes his status quo from before the prison. but, he is Not Alright underneath the mask-- but who can tell? who would want to tell, and try to see underneath the mask?

because on the server, there aren't many people who are willing to uncover the mask that cdream has laid over himself, the act that he puts on to be a villain in order to achieve his goals. part of the reason why cdream's 'mask' never gets 'taken off' is because no one cares enough about the true him-- and funnily enough, the only four/five people on the server are: cpunz, ctechnoblade, ctommy, and cquackity. and chbomb lmao. but thats besides the point: half of the people care about his "true self" because they are friends and close allies, while the other half want to reveal it to be able to hurt and destroy him. everyone else only think too shallowly about him: to them, cdream is an evil character harboring evil intentions, and thus the reasons behind said intentions are also similarly evil-- because they need a face to despise.

but its important to note that it isnt just cdream aiming to make himself a villain; it is everyone else as much as he. it's like a negative feedback loop, and i also want to point out that it was all started by cwilbur, who was the first to antagonize cdream as a major villain.

so, both during and after the prison, this feedback loop is why the villainous image of cdream persists. during the disc confrontation, all that happened was that the people were shown that cdream is not strong but weak. yet, just because he's now weak and defeated doesn't mean that the shadow of his villainy won't haunt him or the other uninvolved server members.

the mask: the end

at the very last stream, what is known as the dsmp finale between cdream and ctommy: something shifts. at the very end of the stream, after they argue and argue and argue, trying to get the moral upper hand, tommy trying to gain sympathy, displaying to the world all their differences and oppositions as if they can never, ever agree... ctommy gets killed in the heat of the argument. he gets revived. and he undergoes a revelation.

here, ctommy is very crucial to the moment because he gets dream to take off his helmet, which, in that moment, likely represents cdream's mask. because it is only after that moment that cdream starts talking about the real reasons why he's doing stuff, that he wants everyone to be a happy family, just like how he did privately to punz on the night after the butcher army. here, cdream starts being genuine; he asks: "is it not too late?" to his greatest nemesis.

here, the mask represents all the false narratives that he put forth, and perhaps all the sins that came along with them, and it reveals him: he who did evil for the sake of good, he who sold his soul for the world, he who told his friends, showed his friends, that he is evil-- for the sake of all of his friends and their friendship. it reveals him, as a man, his true face and physical appearance, taking off a bit of the armor that protects him.

this moment where cdream takes off his mask and starts asking if its possible for change is a culmination of cdream and ctommy's character: mutual understanding and hope.

the mask is like a wall that prevents cdream from seeing eye-to-eye with anyone, from reaching mutual understanding from anyone (except for cpunz ig, who supports him no matter how evil he is). by getting cdream to taking off the mask, he gets cdream to reveal the truth, but also understand that there is hope for the future. a better future.

(we dont talk about the nuke)

cdream personally taking off his mask during this time also directly contrasts with how ctommy and cquackity forcibly takes it off of him. there, they are removing the illusion of control cdream has-- to the people of dsmp, and then to cdream himself; yet, despite having everything taken away from him, he still holds close to his heart his ultimate goals. but, at the nuke finale, it is cdream deciding to reveal his thoughts and feelings himself, and this is crucial to his character's growth. even with all his armor on and cpunz is with him, he takes off his mask, his emotional barrier of sorts, to be able to tell the truth: his truth.

Conclusion

cdream's mask has been crucial to his characterization throughout the different arcs and storylines. while in physical depictions, it is an object that hides and protects one's physical appearance, it also affects the image of his character by providing an element of mystery and notoriety.

through the disc confrontation with ctommy and the torture cdream experienced by the hands of cquackity and csam, we can see them forcibly remove cdream's mask and do away with whatever semblance of power and control cdream has-- both over the people of the server, as well as cdream himself.

when cdream returns from the prison, it's as if nothing had changed; this is because of how established his image already is, and this emphasizes his loneliness (with the exception of cpunz) and continues to cast shadows on the rest of the smp.

finally, in the dsmp nuke finale, cdream ultimately decides to take of his mask on his own and reveals his intentions, displaying strong character development and hope.

tldr: the mask protects cdream, assists in his spiral to evil, and is also a tool used to represent changes in his characterization and his situation.

[darklinaforever]

I swear, I love the bias of TB. When it comes to Daemon and Rhaenyra - "oh, it was normal for those times," but when Aegon leads the lifestyle of an ordinary medieval prince, you call him a r*pist, and when Aemond participates in an ordinary medieval war, you call him a war criminal. Hilarious.

Did you seriously just compare Daemyra to your fucking rapist ? You can tweak the characters as much as you want darling, your Aegon II is still a rapist and Daemon / Daemyra is not. It's just a fact. Sleeping with virgins is a fetish and I never said it was good, but that doesn't mean he is a rapist. But nice try. How funny. Even looking at it from the perspective of the times, Aagon II is still a fucking rapist. It's just a fact. You are truly blind. Once again, I have already covered all the things you cover or reblog @horizon-verizon , for this story of Daemon sleeping with young women in brothels. (as if this could be compared to rape and pedophilia ?! 😂 Please prove that you have never opened a history book) Go read it, you will learn something at least.

By the way, Aegon II is a rapist in the book too. (Thank you for proving once again that you are indeed not reading Fire and Blood !)

Oh. And he slept with an 11 year old girl in the book too, calling it a girl instead of a maiden. So for the time judged a child. (Daemon sleep with maidens) Savor.

People have really just compared the Daemyra relationship to a true rapist, show and book... Everything is fine !

Aemond burned entire villages and killed the entire Strong house. Men, women, children, babies. He killed Lucerys on purpose, thus being the one who ultimately started the war. Aemond took a woman as a war trophy, involving a rape for the time. There is no debate and historical context there to provide nuance. Aemond was not a gray character. There's nothing to like about him. He was literally created to be Daemon's creep. Not the opposite. Daemon is a protagonist and gray character. Aemond is a villain.

Do you want to compare the crimes of TB and TG as wars, darling ? Here, have fun.

The greens are hypocrites. You simply refuse to accept you love a team of villains misogynistss. The Blacks team is made up of either noble people and especially gray characters. Oh, and your team greens ends up wiped out. To my greatest pleasure.

[devilfic]

#✦✎: dc.

disclaimer: I do not consent to reposting of my work, credit given or not. if you’d like to share my work, please share direct links from my tumblr or my AO3. thank you!

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! ♡

✦: batman | battinson!bruce wayne

✎: series

where two are joined, relentlessly [completed] ↳ gotham city’s bound to discover it’s got a prized bachelor on its hands. selina kyle got it, you got it, and you’d quite like if it stopped there, thanks.

I. go, go, loverboy II. best-kept memories III. sick day IV. nameless V. ballroom blitz VI. favors for a friend VII. clean slate VIII. happy birthday, mr. wayne IX. from now on

right place, right time [ongoing] ↳ you took the hippocratic oath. you swore to help those in need. you didn’t sign up for a man crawling through your apartment window bleeding to death, but you’ve unfortunately seen worse.

I. right place, right time II. of niceties and awkward second meetings III. the tower IV. the hierophant V. curiosity killed the cat VI. do you trust me? VII. twenty-one questions VIII. whatever keeps you around

honeymoon [ongoing] ↳ in a gamble to retake his place as ceo of wayne enterprises, bruce wayne is strong-armed into an arranged marriage with you.

you finding out his secret identity is only one of his problems at the moment.

I. honeymoon II. marriage bed III. on the clock IV. sugar-coating

✎: one shots

got you ↳ the wayne family has a special kind of love language.

at the front steps ↳ eventually, the well will dry up. eventually, your patience will wear thin. eventually, you will leave him. of few things he was more certain. unfortunately, how much you loved him wasn’t one of them.

ghosts ↳ there’s a split second between dreaming and waking where the dream exists in the real world: the tender loss of a dream unrealized, and the relief of a nightmare severed. your nightmare is still clinging to you.

good grief ↳ you and batman have something special going on. obviously, people notice.

hard-knock life ↳ even with the riddler locked away in arkham, his followers manage to haunt bruce to this day. thankfully, you’re more than willing to help your fiancé tie up all his loose ends… even if they are a bit ridiculous. or four times the riddler’s followers make a threat on bruce’s life and the one time alfred shoots them for it.

nocturnal animal ↳ okay, maybe the caped crusader is a vampire. and maybe you just want to know what it would feel like for him to sink his teeth into you. it’s not weird.

✎: headcanons

bruce and reader’s mother/misc. headcanons [where two are joined, relentlessly universe]

love languages

bruce making a playlist for his partner

bruce with a gothic s/o

wedding headcanons with bruce wayne

sleeping headcanons with bruce wayne

✎: drabbles

bruce’s first family christmas with you and dick

reader with a villain mbti

dick finds out bruce is batman

bruce's diary [right place, right time]

bruce is a little stalker

✦: catwoman | selina kyle

✎: headcanons

jealous!selina kyle

✎: drabbles

secret admirer and roommate!selina

✦: the riddler | edward nashton

✎: series

boogeyman [hiatus] ↳ he is your shadow as much as you are his. one person, one reflection. you made a deal with the devil and this is the price you pay for redemption.

I. boogeyman II. no god in gotham

✎: one shots

first snow ↳ life wasn’t all pain, there was you. there was you.

✎: headcanons

young!edward nashton headcanons

[butchhamlet]

hi it's me again im the anon who dropped about 800 words about ocd hamlet a couple weeks ago (maybe longer, time has been weird for me lately).. it made me soo happy to see it resonated with you and with some other people who reblogged it as well!! i've been projecting on hamlet ever since i read it and it feels like every time i read it i learn more about him AND me... and ever since Symptoms showed up he's been even dearer to me and im just so glad people like my interpretation as well :)

i hope it's ok for me to do this again because i want to talk about what if lady macbeth has ocd also. and i know this is sort of well. dangerous if that's the right word because 1) lady macbeth IS the villain in her play even if i love her from the bottom of my heart and i support everything she does and ocd is already an incredibly stigmatised and misunderstood 2) hand washing is possibly THE most stereotyped compulsion that sort of epitomises this really warped view of ocd in the public consciousness. i personally do not have handwashing as a compulsion or really any physical compulsions that are direct responses to my intrusive thoughts so i will try to be really really careful when im talking about this. + other disclaimers: again while i have definitely experienced symptoms of ocd i do not know if i have it and i am NOT diagnosed + ocd experiences are different for everyone + you cannot diagnose a character because they are not real + this one is mostly projection and is more a frame of reading than it is an interpretation grounded in textual evidence (esp since i will be talking about the sleepwalking asleep a LOT and she is technically, well. sleeping.) so just. take everything with a pinch of salt and please let me know if i ever overstep!!

im mainly going to be drawing on experiences close to real event ocd even though i know that typically real event ocd is defined by the fact that the sufferer blows their past mistakes way out of proportion and/or question their memories, and i guess i cannot say that lady macbeth’s guilt is completely unjustified because uh. she did kill a man.! but i do think her behaviours after the murder reflects what i’ve seen people speak about online as well as some of the experiences i’ve had. 

guilt as illness

this is more general to the whole play i guess but i wanted to point out how the consequences of the macbeths’ regicide is absolutely portrayed as a disease. there’s a LOT of foreshadowing in lady macbeth’s advice to her husband in the immediate aftermath of their murder: she tells him not to “think / so brain sickly of things”, and says, “these deeds must not be thought / after these ways so, it will make us mad”. (2.ii) the doctor later alludes to “infected minds” (5.i) in relation to lady macbeth’s madness. the fact that the fixation on guilt is seen as an illness i think fits so well with ocd: whenever im having a bad day with intrusive thoughts and mental spirals it genuinely feels like there is something festering in my brain like a parasite feeding on anxiety. 

guilt is also so intrinsically linked to sleep in macbeth: famously macbeth comes out of the king’s chamber ranting about how he may “sleep no more; macbeth doth murder sleep”, and lady macbeth’s obsession pours out of her when she is sleeping (and this is exactly why a doctor is called). i would argue that fucked up sleep is somewhat presented as an illness in ‘macbeth’ too; or if not, at least unnatural. this idea is all over act 2 scene ii (right after macbeth commits the murder) but i think it’s best epitomised in act 3 scene iv: “you lack the season of all natures, sleep.” (lady macbeth) season as in both night-season and seasoning/preservative. so sleep is both a natural part of life, and something that keeps things the way nature or god intended. the doctor says too that disturbed sleep is “a great perturbation in nature” (5.i). nightmares are DEFINITELY depicted as illness: macbeth says that they “sleep / in the affliction of these terrible dreams / that shake us nightly” (3.ii)

insomnia is highly associated with ocd since the obsessions/compulsions prevent sleep and sleep deprivation increases the commonality AND duration of obsession. if a significant portion of your day is spent devoted to obsessions/compulsions, there’s a chance they may become assimilated into intrusive dreams, since dreams are generally regarded as a way that the brain processes memories. thus, we can see that the way guilt in ‘macbeth’ is linked to disturbed sleep parallels how ocd is linked to sleep disorders. so not only is guilt itself an illness in ‘macbeth’, it links to other disorders too

2. withdrawal from dialogue

lady macbeth stops being on equal footing in terms of number of lines with macbeth after the murder. from act 3 she really only responds briefly to what macbeth says, and she’s not even in act 4. i sort of see that as her being dragged under her spiralling thoughts and retreating further and further back into her mind. i know i definitely zone out a LOT more on days where im being absolutely bombarded by intrusive thoughts. she’s definitely disoriented by the begining of act 3:

nought’s had, all's spent, where our desire is got without content. ’tis safer to be that which we destroy, than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. (3.ii)

the whole soliloquy (if you can even call it that—it’s only 2 couplets) is riddled with paradoxes and confusing wording. her mind is completely scattered and it feels to me as if she’s just been arguing with herself. this might be reaching slightly (as if this entire post isnt kind of reaching already. sorry) but to me it kind of mirrors the absurd leaps of logic my intrusive thoughts and rumination can sometimes take: how can it be “safer” to be destroyed? how can “joy�� be doubtful? it doesn’t make sense, and it’s confusing and frightening, but it feels absolutely real. (also note: as you’ve said before ocd is sometimes called the doubting disease. and lady macbeth calls her experience “doubtful”….

3. the mad scene

(disclaimer again i KNOW she is supposed to be asleep the entire time BUT i am going to. sort of. ignore that. sorry</3)

in the beginning of act 5 scene i, lady macbeth’s lady-in-waiting says,

since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed — yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

i’ve never experienced physical compulsions myself, but this sort of repeated, methodical act matches how i’ve seen people describe them. the doctor specifically calls them “actual performances”, which suggest, i think, something mechanical and dictated in some way; “perform” is definitely a word i’ve seen people use to descrive carrying out compulsions. (do correct me if i’m wrong!)

then let’s look at lady macbeth’s actual speech:

out, damned spot, out, I say. — one, two — why, then, 'tis time to do't. — hell is murky. — fie, lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard! what need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

the jumping around of her thoughts honestly feels exactly like my mind alternating between intrusive thoughts and desperately trying to justify why they aren’t true. she goes from reflecting on her debillitating guilt, to being anxious about going to hell, to replaying and checking her memories, to reassuring herself (and macbeth) that she won’t get caught, and then to thinking about her guilt again. it’s a rapid-fire, relentless cycle that continues throughout the scene. she’ll jump from reenacting a moment with her husband, to the obsessing over the blood on her hands, then back again. notably, in her address to macbeth, she never seems to be reenacting the exact same moment. she taunts him for his cowardice seemingly before the murder, then pleads with him, saying that “banquo cannot come out his grave”, then goes back to when they are fleeing the crime scene. i think this reflects the sort of distortion of memory that constant memory checking and ocd can cause. the moodswings and the flip-flopping between “everything’s fine” and “i’m going to hell” are also SO intense and honestly it’s exactly what it feels like on my worst days. 

in the entire scene, lady macbeth speaks in prose instead of verse: it’s obviously a sign of madness by itself, but i also think it reflects the complete loss of control she has over her thoughts and actions. in the beginning acts she is all about control: she demands “spirits / that tend on mortal thoughts” (1.v) to do her bidding, she tells macbeth to “leave all the rest to me” (1.v), and she tells him what to do at every moment. but at this point in the play she can’t stop the onslaught of regrets, guilt, and memories, and she can’t even control herself physically.

speaking of the elephant in the room: the excessive handwashing. i think of lady macbeth’s handwashing as less of a reaction to a genuine fear of contamination, but as something more akin to body-repetitive behaviours like skin-picking (dermatillomania) and hair-pulling (trichitillomania, which i think i have) which are associated with ocd.

i sort of headcanon lady macbeth to have absolutely horrible skin splits on her hands (<- this part is complete projection): and so following this interpretation, i think of her handwashing sort of as a form of self-flagellation because rubbing her hands continually will make the skin tear and bleed. (gore tw?) that, then, fits in with the blood on her hands: in her semi-conscious state she thinks it’s duncan’s, when it’s really hers.

i know that another common compulsion is counting: and lady macbeth does count (“one, two—’tis time to do it.”) one of the reasons people with ocd may count (and there are many reasons, this is not the be-all-end-all) is “attaching meaning to particular numbers where certain numbers will induce anxiety, while others will reduce anxiety. for example, if you assign special meaning to the number three, you might count your steps by threes, or lock and unlock your car three times before driving, or any variety of other action ruled by this magic number.” (<- quoted from nocd website)

i also know that repetition of words or phrases is another common compulsion. and these are lady macbeth's final lines:

to bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. come, come, come, come, give me your hand. what's done cannot be undone. — to bed, to bed, to bed.

4. her death

in your ocd hamlet post, you talked about how hamlet’s death is almost peaceful in his “silence”, and how horatio, despite knowing all his flaws and obsessions, believes wholeheartedly in his salvation. (that honestly means the world to me, by the way, so thank you.) the macbeths went through EVERYTHING together: the planning, the crime itself, the aftermath—it’s clear from their dialogue that at the beginning of their sufferings they saw each other go through sleeplessness, nightmares, and obsession. but over the course of the play, they completely fall apart. (i think the last time macbeth uses “we” to refer to the two of them is to say “we’ll to sleep” and “we are yet but young in deed”, which is the most ironic thing ever.) macbeth’s only response to lady macbeth’s death is “she should have died hereafter.” i honestly don’t know what that means in terms of the ocd reading, or in comparison with horatio's reaction to hamlet's death. i'd love to know what you think.

thanks for bearing with me!! i’m a bit less confident in this reading than i am for ocd hamlet, and it’s more likely i’ll get something wrong about ocd in this one, but sorry i just wanted to unleash this somewhere i hope that’s okay and genuinely please tell me if i say anything wrong or insensitive! i also typed this over 3 hours and went over the text as if this was a homework essay.....? and it is now almost 2am so i’m sorry if this isn’t coherent. i hope you’re having a wonderful day :)

hi same anon here i forgot to put this in but. i listened to verdi macbeth opera mad scene una macchia è qui tuttora the whole time i was writing that thing in case anyone would like to know...... i love it so so much my favourite video recording is by sylvia sass on youtube https://youtu.be/tP59Ox8MdQ4?feature=shared&t=319 AND there are full productions of the opera on youtube as well. thank you so much for reading!!!!

YES.... YES..... YESSSSSSSSSS I LOVE AN OCD LADY MACBETH... IT'S ABOUT THE GUILT IT'S ABOUT THE REPETITION DOES EVERYONE HEAR ME? TODAY WE ARE DOING GUILT AND REPETITION

i have had similar thoughts about the sort of inherent trickiness of it (oh, the lady who washes her hands a lot has ocd? whoa, totally original thought that has nothing to do with pop culture perception of ocd) (and also she did kill a man). but you really said it all with that ksdhfdksnfdsn. i will pitch in that i DO have handwashing compulsions and tbh. i personally think lady macbeth ocd reading is a net win even if it does trail a little close to stereotypes because if you dig even slightly deeper than "haha handwashing" it allows for an examination of ocd not just as an action but also as a manifestation of guilt and illness. which is SO macbeth. the body politic is sick the government is sick!!! again im taking the words right out of your mouth here this ask whips ass

shaking your hand on conceiving of ocd as something parasitical. really feels like there is some Thing up there feeding on my brain. (also on intrusive thought dreams. fucked upppppp like man leave me alone)

AND ON THAT NOTE i feel like even if she is asleep it can still be ocd. i say this with no medical training whatsoever and this isn't, like, me asserting that people actually do compulsions while asleep, but on a narrative level, the emotional processes happening to her character are petty clear even if she's sleepwalking, right. once again no medical training whatsoever

the jumping around of her thoughts honestly feels exactly like my mind alternating between intrusive thoughts and desperately trying to justify why they aren’t true. [...] the moodswings and the flip-flopping between “everything’s fine” and “i’m going to hell” are also SO intense and honestly it’s exactly what it feels like on my worst days.

YEAH. YEAH. YEAH. the ugly intrusive thought -> self-reassurance -> self-reassurance makes it worse -> intrusive thought (harder and worse) spiral. and literally this is EXACTLY what it feels like. me when i accidentally say something rude and then i'm evil for three days. except she killed a man

i sort of headcanon lady macbeth to have absolutely horrible skin splits on her hands (<- this part is complete projection): and so following this interpretation, i think of her handwashing sort of as a form of self-flagellation because rubbing her hands continually will make the skin tear and bleed. (gore tw?) that, then, fits in with the blood on her hands: in her semi-conscious state she thinks it’s duncan’s, when it’s really hers.

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH. ON AN ANALYTICAL LEVEL AND A PERSONAL LEVEL. LITERALLY THE LEAPS I CAN DO IN MY BEAUTIFUL MIND TO BE LIKE WOW IM JUST LIKE LADY MACBETH (BLOOD ON MY HANDS). YOU N ME BROTHER

and re: her death and the macbeths splintering apart. that is honestly the most painful part of this play for me, as a lover of evil couples and also of their specific dynamic. the fact that they mesh so well at the beginning (i mean, they argue, there's friction, but they're clearly on the same page--they enter their first shared scene both thinking the same thing and a lot of their communication is in implication) and then they just. fragment. and i think with the OCD ladymac reading it's even worse, because the thing about OCD at least in my experience is that. at some point the people around you stop being able to understand what the fuck your problem is. even when they're trying really hard. because it doesn't make any sense! the compulsions don't make logical sense the self-flagellation doesn't make any sense none of it is SOLVING anything but it also does make sense, To You, on a level you cannot really explain to people that don't Get It*. and so like. the macbeths are already breaking apart because of their responses to the murder, and this is just one more thing coming between them. she is trapped in a cage in her brain that he cannot see.

*(i think not infrequently about the overlap between OCD and psychosis; i haven't experienced psychosis and obviously there are major differences, but i relate a lot to what psychotic people have said about, like, the ability to hold multiple contradictory truths at once. my compulsions will not actually stop disasters from happening, but they also will. you could maybe pull in something about macbeth's parallel loss of control + his hallucinations? but i'm not diagnosing macbeth with psychosis necessarily i'm just saying words).

anyway, anon, i am always extremely impressed by your dedication to writing out quotes and coming armed with evidence, and also your analysis fucking bangs. this is such a good ask i need to frame it on the wall your mind is huge. i hope you have a wonderful day as well :)

[st-juliet]

Utmost Merit, Part III

Fandom: Henry Cavill as Sherlock in Enola Holmes

Summary: Sherlock presents the Reader with a most unconventional proposal.

Content: Absolutely 18+ for very very very filthy language, purposely unprotected sex, virgin reader, breeding kink, spouses-to-lovers, some period-typical gender roles but nothing unkind or insidious

Notes: I prefer giving a name to the Reader rather than using Y/N, but I hope you will make the appropriate substitutes in your imagination. Your kind comments and reblogs are so, so appreciated…please don’t hesitate to reply or send me a message with your feedback if you enjoy! 

Previous Chapters: Part I Part II

“What is it, Mrs. Hudson?”

“It is not Mrs. Hudson.”

A sudden streak of mischief has seized you this afternoon: it is one week to the day of your marriage, and though you have seen Sherlock nearly every day in the flurry of preparations… but always in the company of someone – your brothers, his brother, your respective and mutual friends, a procession of lawyers and clergy. You are eager to have a moment alone with him, not least of all because of what happened the last time you were afforded such privacy – and it is no coincidence that your walk today has brought you by Baker Street.

“It’s a friend.”

“A friend? Watson?”

Even muffled by the door, you can hear the amusement in his voice—he knows very well who it is. “No, not he,” you play along.

“Who, then?”

“Not simply a friend. Practically family.”

“If it’s Enola, I’m out of the house. If it’s Mycroft, I’m out of the country.”

“And if it’s your wife?” “I have not got a wife. No, indeed.“ You can hear his voice more nearly now, his footsteps drawing close. “I must remain a frustrated bachelor for six days and some odd hours more.”

And then the door swings open, and you are greeted with a glorious sight: Sherlock fills the doorframe completely, leaning against it with a lazy, comfortable air and smiling down at you with unconcealed delight. He is in his shirtsleeves, tumbled curls spilling about his face…the most undressed and unrestrained you have ever seen him. You want to fling your arms about his neck, but restrain yourself, instead giving a little curtsey and saying, “I’m out for a walk.”

“Of course you are,” he smirks, extending his hand to escort you into his parlor. “When asked where my wife is, I shall always know exactly what to say: ‘She is out for a walk.’”

His teasing, affectionate tone draws you in as much as his gesture, and you eagerly take his hand, allowing yourself to be led through the maze of his various experiments, stacks of books, and glass-cased curiosities.

“I wanted to see you,” you admit. “Do I disturb your work?”

“You are always welcome here,” he avows, settling you beside him on the small settee, a very deliberate invitation to closeness. “And never more than at this moment: I am bored out of my mind. Are there no more villains to be found in England? Not a single jewel thief? No secret societies with nefarious purposes? Not a missing cat, stuck up a tree?”

Clearly in a playful mood, he gives a dramatic sigh and tosses his head to shake an unruly curl from his brow, which is a futile effort, and you cannot stop yourself from reaching out to brush it aside. He covers your hand with his, pressing it against his cheek.

“You have done your job too well,” you answer. “The realm is safe and sound, at least for now…however shall you occupy that brilliant mind in the meantime?”

 “I have a few notions,” he muses, turning his head to kiss your palm. “We were interrupted the last time we were truly alone.”

“So we were.”

Sherlock presses up against you even more closely, resting his forehead against yours. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek, grazes his lips along your jaw, which incites a low, breathy sound from you. He chuckles softly and repeats the gesture…and then, for the first time—though he has touched you most nearly, heard you cry out his name in the throes of rapture, spoken the most intimate, profane words to one another—Sherlock kisses you on the lips.

He is at once tender and insistent, gentle and fervent, and you melt into his arms, returning his ardor with an unpracticed enthusiasm that only seems to enchant him further. Over and over again, he kisses you so deeply, so passionately…softly coaxing your lips to part, giving way to his clever, dexterous tongue…and his hands wander to every soft curve he can seek out with a covetous, ravenous resolve.

“You tempt me beyond all reason, Rosamund. Here in my arms is the woman who shall be—by her most eager consent—the mother of my child. My wife in but a week’s time,” he sighs, a feigned resignation in his tone. “But I suppose I am a gentleman, and such are the dictates of propriety…”

You realize he is making you an offer: understated, unassuming, and entirely in your hands to refuse. But your decision is instantaneous and wholehearted.

“Our purpose transcends propriety,” you answer softly, and his eyes narrow.  You pull him close by his lapels for another burning kiss, then whisper in his ear: “It is only a week. And I think we should waste no time.”

Something seems to snap in Sherlock, just like that fortnight ago when he delved under your skirts and brought you to bliss in the home you soon will share.

“As my wife commands, then,” he growls, and already he is on his feet, discarding his vest and cravat, locking the door, and gazing at you with flagrant, untempered desire. In a flash of inspiration, he turns the handle on his gramophone, setting the cylinder spinning, and the beautiful, pure strains of a violin fill the room. You gasp softly and feel a shiver of excitement and longing run through your body at the application of his ingenious mind to such a devious purpose: anyone outside the room would no doubt think Sherlock himself was playing the violin, a perfectly appropriate way to while away an hour with his wife-to-be.

“You were so good for me last time,” he murmurs, stealing another kiss before sweeping you up into his arms. “Staying so quiet and polite even with my hand beneath your skirts. But now, my dear little bride…I very much wish to hear you.”

Sherlock shows an extraordinary facility as a lover already, easily carrying you to his bedroom without ever ceasing his kisses. He is eager, almost boyish, in his delight as he strips away the many layers of your gown, and easily diverted by each new inch of you he uncovers. You feel much the same, every moment torn between exploring the aspects of his body already on display to you and revealing more, and when he tosses his shirt aside, you find you cannot help yourself, even as your logical brain reminds your swooning heart that this is a business transaction: you run your hands across the hard planes of his chest, breathlessly exclaiming, “Oh, you are so handsome…”

The man practically preens at your words, not-so-very subtly flexing his muscles, and you laugh at what a peacock he has suddenly become.

“Have I made you vain, Mr. Holmes?” you tease, and he grins back at you, bright blue eyes sparkling as he strips every last stitch from your body.

“How can I help it when such a beauty sings my praises? That would turn any man’s head.”

Discarding the last of his own garments, he settles himself atop you, careful to bear his own weight lest you be completely enveloped by his immense frame—not that you would mind it in the slightest—and kisses a trail down your neck, smirking into a particularly sensitive spot as you gasp and arch at his attentions. “I perhaps ought to have mentioned this in my proposal,” he considers, nuzzling your breasts with soft kisses, teasing the peaks with his teeth and tongue—a maddening combination of tender and rough that has your pulse racing. “But I find you an exceptionally beautiful woman.”

His praise in turn makes you almost bashful, but he doesn’t allow you the slightest shame or shyness, parting your legs to look hungrily on your most tender place, laying kisses on your thighs and holding you tight as you giggle and squirm at the sensation.

“My god, what a sight. You really are perfect for me, in every way,” he pronounces, his fingers sliding easily between your petals to caress your bud, remembering perfectly from your first encounter just what makes you sigh…speed and pressure and even the way he speaks to you, low and comforting and stirring all at once. He has learned you like his famed violin, from a single hurried instance of intimacy. But you need not smother your moans this time as he seeks your pleasure with his deft, elegant hand, and each little sound that he elicits from you only seems to spur Sherlock on to new heights of wickedness, and he licks his lips wolfishly as he slides first one finger, and then a second, into your channel.

“Oh, Sherlock…’

“Yes, let me hear you. This is how I want you always, pleading and crying out for me—yes, just like that.”

You are offering him a litany of indecent sounds, but it is nothing compared to the devilish words he murmurs in return as he guides you to your peak:

“You bring out the most iniquitous contradictions in me. You…whom I have admired only at a distance this year or more…so respectable, so intelligent, graceful and gracious—yet with the slightest hint of your assent, I would take my pretty paragon and have you on your hands and knees for me, to breed this sweet, tight cunt…but that fantasy we will answer in time, for I must see your lovely face when you fall apart for me tonight, my darling wife…”

His gorgeous features are illuminated with wonder as you come apart on his hand, calling out his name and clutching at the bedsheets, completely helpless to your own pleasure.

“Oh, Sherlock, oh…more, please don’t stop…”

Sherlock moves to kneel between your thighs, drawing your legs about his hips and aligning his cock with your warm, wet slit. “Are you ready, Rosamund?”

His control is impeccable, but barely-leashed, and you can tell he wants nothing more than to thrust as deep within you as can be. You feel the slightest flicker of trepidation—he is so large, so strong, his sex thick and long and dripping already—Sherlock notes your hesitation at once.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he bids you, leaning down to lay a soothing kiss upon your lips. “You can take it; you were made for this, my love. Made for me.”

“I am yours,” you whisper, and with one smooth motion, you are joined. You barely feel a twinge as he enters you; he has taken such care of you that the delicious fullness and white-hot heat of your flesh embracing his melts away all tension, relieves any fear or pain. The sound of his sonorous, feral groan as he settles so deep makes you clench, and you are almost at your peak again already as he sets about a relentless rhythm, eyes burning into yours all the while.

“Oh, you feel like heaven,” he groans, and you begin to meet his thrusts with the rise of your hips. “Look how eager you are, just begging me to give you my cock, my seed, make you swell with my child. I can see you now, so full and round and gorgeous…everyone will know what you let me do to you,” he promises. “That you are mine—“

“Make me yours,” you echo, and he buries his face in your neck with a brazen moan. “Let go, please, Sherlock, give me our baby…”

Seeing this man truly unbound, free from all societal restraints and his personal gentility, is nothing shy of miraculous. He supports you in his arms most delicate work of art on the earth, but claims you ferociously, deep and fast and unyielding in his pursuit of your mutual pleasure, holding back only enough to give you your bliss first before he loses himself completely in the sensation of your softness, coming deep inside you with a roar.

You spend some minutes simply breathing together, savoring the beauty of this new closeness, and the precious hope that might already be taking root. At last, with a nod of agreement from you, he pulls out from your tender flesh, taking great care not to spill a drop.

“Keep all that in, wife,” he instructs, laying his palm flat against your slit. Then, with a wicked smile, he begin to rub at your bud with his fingertips, and you are so very sensitive, so over-stimulated, that you can hardly breath as he coaxes one more shuddering climax from your tender body. “Just to be certain it takes,” he says by way of explanation, as casually as if he were describing some chemical reaction. You try to stifle a giggle, but cannot, at his professorial tone. Your mirth is infectious, and you both laugh together, in rapturous joy.

“Thank god you are my wild and wanton girl,” he praises you. “I thought I would be driven mad by the memory of you, haunting my every moment. You have quite saved my sanity, if not my life, tonight.”

“I feel the same,” you agree, kissing him sweetly. This easy playfulness, such a hallmark of your courtship preserved even after this new step has been taken, sparks yet more mischief in you, and, lightly running your fingers through the hair on his chest, you murmur, “So, Mr. Holmes: you have admired me a year or more?”

You called me your love, is what you truly want to say. But surely that was the passion of the moment, the exchange of a single self for a shared bond, that overcame him…?

“Yes,” he admits, with a soft smile. “But I was entirely certain you would accept any number of the other offers set before you. I dared not hope…”

He trails off, and you nestle even tighter against him.

“Thank goodness I had the foresight to refuse them all. I…I was determined to wait for what felt truly right. It could have been no one but you.”

He kisses you tenderly, and just as you determine to summon all your whiles towards seducing him into a second time—for the sake of The Shared Purpose, of course—the clock strikes seven, far past the hour you were expected home. Sherlock groans petulantly when you escape his arms and start to piece together the various layers of your attires, but his sound of displeasure shifts to one of pride as he watches a trickle of his seed slip down your thighs.

“Just look at you,” he drawls, stretching out on the bed, and without the slightest blush or hesitation, begins to stroke his hardening cock, drinking in the sight of you, flushed all over, your hair loose about your head like a halo, every inch of your skin burnished by the setting sun.

“You will be simply incorrigible from this moment forward, won’t you, Sherlock?”

“Yes.”

“I’m expected to be home.“

“You’re expected to obey your husband.”

He rises from the bed and halts your search for your clothes, his arms encircling you from behind and his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Lie back down, Rosamund,” he commands, one hand toying with your breasts as the other comes to rest possessively over your abdomen. “You’re letting all my hard work go to waste—I’ll have to pin you down and fill you up all over again.”

You succumb immediately to his touch, allowing him to spin you around and arrange you on the bed to his liking: on hands and knees as he had whispered of before, presented fully to his lustful gaze. Looking back over your shoulder, you meet Sherlock’s piercing eyes and he smiles at you.

“My perfect wife…”

You sigh and give yourself over to bliss.

You’ll simply have to tell them you went on a very, very long walk.

Next Chapter: Part IV

Thank you so much to these darlings who so graciously reblogged and commented on the previous chapters!

@mis-lil-red @a-panda-doll @astheskycries @ghotifishreads @wolfsmom1 @mathle0matle @crazybutconfidentaf @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ 

[insanepoll]

WELCOME TO THE INSANE CHARACTER TOURNAMENT

Here's where your favourite insane characters will battle to the death for the first spot! More below the "keep reading" line.

Pre-match rounds start April 12th at 1PM (EDT)! Each round will have 24h to vote. For propaganda, you can go ahead and submit it in the askbox or through normal submissions. If you want to post your own propaganda, be sure to tag me so I can reblog it! I hope to see y'all there!!!

Round 1-A matches:

Alex Kralie (Marble Hornets) VS The Antagonist (Hatred (2015))

Drusilla (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) VS Hisoka (Hunter x Hunter)

Tokishige Usami (Golden Kamuy) VS Enerjak (Sonic the Hedgehog)

Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium) VS Evan (EverymanHYBRID)

Azula (ATLA) VS Knock Knock (Phantom Spirits (2002))

Eric Cartman (South Park) VS Wade Wilson / Deadpool (Marvel)

Orochimaru (Naruto) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH I

Sasuke Uchiha (Naruto Shippuden) VS Delirium (Sandman)

Castiel (Supernatural) VS Simon Keyes (Ace Attorney Investigations 2)

Opal Koboi (Artemis Fowl) VS Bibble (Barbie Fairytopia)

Hamlet (The Tragical History of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark) VS The Observer (TribeTwelve)

Misty Quigley (Yellowjackets) VS Lestat de Lioncourt (Interview with the Vampire)

Will Graham (NBC Hannibal) VS Shou Tucker (FMA)

Ophelia (The Tragical History of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark) VS Starscream (Transformers)

Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH II

The Narrator (Fight Club) VS Gamzee Makara (Homestuck)

Round 1-B matches:

Dabi (My Hero Academia) VS Shinobu Sensui (Yu Yu Hakusho)

The entire cast of Blaseball (Blaseball) VS Trexel Geistman (Stellar Firma)

Seo Moon-jo (Strangers from Hell) VS Sammy Lawrence (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Sebastian Morgenstern (The Shadowhunter Chronicles) VS GIR (Invader Zim)

Aerion Targaryen (A Song of Ice and Fire) VS Lucille Bluth (Arrested Development)

Dottore (Genshin Impact) VS Helena (Orphan Black)

GLaDOS (Portal (Game Series)) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH III

Dr. Franken Stein (Soul Eater) VS Tyrian Callows (RWBY)

Samarie (Fear and Hunger 2: Termina) VS Mahito (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Cersei Lannister (A Song of Ice and Fire) VS Lee Dongsik (Beyond Evil)

Anakin Skywalker / Darth Vader (Star Wars) VS Rebecca Bunch (Crazy Ex-girlfriend)

John Kramer (Saw) VS The Mad Hatter (Alice in Wonderland)

Light Yagami (Death Note) VS Komaeda Nagito (Danganronpa 2)

The Master (Doctor Who) VS Simon Laurent (Infinity Train)

Gollum (Lord of the Rings) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH IV

Roman Roy (Succession) VS Jack (The Shining)

Round 1-C matches:

Jinx (Arcane) VS Niki Sanders / Jessica Sanders (Heroes)

Micolash, Host of the Nightmare (Bloodborne) VS Professor Henry Hidgens (Hatchetfield)

Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein) VS Cicero (Skyrim)

Renfield (Dracula) VS Dr. Gregory House (House MD)

Tim Drake (DC) VS Ultra Violet (Lego Ninjago)

Donatello Hamato (ROTTMNT) VS Spamton G. Spamton (Deltarune)

The Ice King (Adventure Time) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH V

Villanelle (Killing Eve) VS Kira Yoshikage (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)

Max (Sam and Max) VS Loki (The Mechanisms)

Darcy (Amphibia) VS Cheryl Tunt (Archer)

Harrowhark Nonagesimus (The Locked Tomb) VS Dr. Baxter Stockman (TMNT 2003)

Izzy (Total Drama) VS Alfred Drevis (Mad Father)

Michael Distortion (The Magnus Archives) VS Vegas Theerapanyakul (Kinnporsche)

Doomguy (Doom) VS Gabriel Agreste (Miraculous)

Ben Chang (Community) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH VI

Fëanor (The Silmarillion) VS Ryuki (AI: The Somnium Files)

Round 1-D matches:

Eliot Cardale / Eli Ever (Villains Duology) VS Knives Millions (Trigun)

Denji (Chainsaw Man) VS Bubby (Half Life: VR but the AI is Self Aware)

Tsukishima Hajime (Golden Kamuy) VS Alucard (Hellsing Ultimate)

Hannibal Lecter (NBC Hannibal) VS Heathcliff (Wuthering Heights)

Johnny C. (Johnny The Homicidal Maniac) VS Leopold Fitz (Marvel)

Midori (Your Turn To Die) VS Ken Kaneki (Tokyo Ghoul)

Pugsley Addams (The Addams Family) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH VII

Billy Lenz (Black Christmas (1974)) VS Grell Sutcliff (Black Butler)

Goro Akechi (Persona 5) VS Fintan Pyren (Keeper of the Lost Cities)

Galahad (The Mechanisms) VS Alexander Hilbert (Wolf 359)

Armand (Interview with the Vampire) VS Spinel (Steven Universe)

Jīn Guāngyáo (Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Untamed)) VS Himiko Toga (My Hero Academia)

Morgana Pendragon (BBC Merlin) VS Nikolai Gogol (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Harley Quinn (DC) VS Xue Yang (Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Untamed))

Eren Jaeger (Attack on Titan) VS WINNER PRE-MATCH VIII

Chat Blanc (Miraculous) VS Volo (Pokemon Legends Arceus)

But first, we'll have the pre-match rounds that will determine if any of the following characters that almost didn't survive the cut will manage to secure a spot in the competition! They are as follows:

PRE-MATCH I: Caleb (Blood (1997)) VS Tuco Salamanca (Better Call Saul)

PRE-MATCH II: Pinkie Pie (My Little Pony) VS Amy Kirio (Mairimashita! Iruma-kun)

PRE-MATCH III: Magic Man (Adventure Time) VS Mindbender (GI Joe Renegades)

PRE-MATCH IV: Jevil (Deltarune) VS Midari Ikishima (Kakegurui)

PRE-MATCH V: Dennis Reynolds (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) VS Eddie Gluskin (Outlast)

PRE-MATCH VI: Vanilla Ice (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure) VS Roberto (Futurama)

PRE-MATCH VII: Jonathan Crane / The Scarecrow (DC) VS Annie Wilkes (Misery)

PRE-MATCH VIII: Ben Linus (Lost) VS Kristoph Gavin (Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney)

[choicesbookclub]

Welcome to the Choices Book Club! We are currently reading Blades of Light & Shadow II. The book releases a new chapter every Friday on the Choices App.

This Week’s Chapter: Chapter 14: A Night to Remember

Question(s) of the Week: 

How would you rate this chapter? [Vote Here]

What do you think about the new premium outfit? [Vote Here]

How do you feel about nearing the end of Blades II?

Did you acquire the Elite Skill (Shatter) with Valax? [Vote Here]

What do you think of the Ash Empress? (If villain, why so hot?)

Who did you choose to dance across the floor with? [Vote Here]

Did you "get revenge" with Nia and Valax? [Vote Here]

What are your thoughts and theories about the ending with both the Watcher and Valax?

Aerin stans, how you doing? How/what do you think your boy is doing?

Newly added questions in purple

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Post reactions, screenshots, videos, ramblings, theories,… whatever comes to you while playing

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If your post is not reblogged within 48 hours, please dm me a link @lovealexhunt. Thank you!

[Please read the full guide to the event and how to participate here]

[yen-sids-tournament]

Halloween Villains Tournament Round 1

We now have a complete bracket for the mini-tournament!

The point of this tournament is to establish the Scariest, Spookiest, most Diabolical and Nightmare-Inducing of all of Disney's Evil Villains! We do think all 16 of these submissions are all terribly twisted in their own ways, which clearly helps sell their story arcs.

The first round will be tomorrow, October 24th, each round will be 24 hours. The parings are:

Judge Claude Frollo (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) v Scroop (Treasure Planet)

Oggie Boogie (The Nightmare Before Christmas) v Man the Hunter (Bambi)

Cruella De Vil (101 Dalmatians) v The Headless Horseman (The Legend of Sleepy Hollow)

Maleficent (Sleeping Beauty) v Zira (The Lion King II: Simba's Pride)

Dr. Facilier (The Princess and the Frog) v The Evil Queen/Hag (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

Gaston (Beauty and the Beast) v Emperor Belos (The Owl House)

The Horned King (The Black Cauldron) v Turbo/King Candy (Wreck It Ralph)

Davy Jones (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest) v The Sanderson Sisters (Hocus Pocus)

Propaganda is encouraged and we will try our best to reblog comments like in the regular tournaments, even though these rounds are the shorter option.

We are looking forward to announcing the winner on Halloween!

[companion-showdown]

Masterpost of Masterposts

Want to see how the previous tournaments went, look no further

Best Companion

WINNER: Rose Tyler 2023 edition - ran this one again this year voters comments are tagged differently as i will reblog passionate arguments for any candidate winner announcement

Fight Club

WINNER: Leela Who would win in a fight? winner announcement

Toxic Relationship

WINNER: Clara Oswald Who has the most toxic relationship with the Doctor? winner announcement

Get Them

WINNER: Tegan Jovanka Who is the most likely to beat the Doctor's ass? winner announcement

Companion's Companions

WINNER: K9 Favourite character who could be described as a companion to a companion winner announcement

Glowing Green Goo

WINNER: Iris Wildthyme Who is the most likely to lick the glowing green goo? winner announcement

The Great Himboff

WINNER: John Benton Who is the Greatest Himbo Companion? winner announcement

Not From Around Here

WINNER: Jamie McCrimmon Favourite companion not from contemprary Earth winner announcement

Just this once

WINNER: Wilfred Mott Which companion deserves to do well in a tournament for once?

Doctors of Doctor Who

WINNER: Martha Jones Who is the best companion who is a Doctor or medical professional winner announcement

Chaos Incarnate

WINNER: The TARDIS best chaotic companion winner announcement

Teenage Takedown

WINNER: Ace McShane best teenaged companion winner announcement

Master's Mates

WINNER: Jo Grant most fun relationship with the Master winner announcement

Biggest Gay Icon

WINNER: Bill Potts what is says on the tin winner announcement

Greatest Accomplice

WINNER: The TARDIS greatest accomplice to the Doctor's War Crimes winner announcement

Fashion Show

WINNER: (in a Romana-off) Romana II Greatest Fashion Sense winner announcement

Most Tragic Departure

WINNER: Donna Noble, but the final was rerun post 60th specials, and Adric won in a massive landslide! what is says on the tin (winner announcement)

Hottest Companion

WINNER: Martha Jones what is says on the tin winner announcement

Freaky Little Pets

best weird pet of anyone in Doctor Who WINNER: K9 winner announcement

Almost Companion

WINNER: Li Shou Yuing Who do you most wish had become a companion? winner announcement

Impossible Pairings

WINNER: Martha Jones with 9 favourite non-canon pairing winner announcement

Showdown 2k24

WINNER: Donna Noble Redo of favourite companion winner announcement

Villainous

WINNER: The TARDIS Which companion would make the best villain winner announcement

Intoxication

WINNER: Donna Noble Best companion to get intoxicated with winner announcement

Anti-Villainous

WINNER: Gomez!Master Which villain would you most want to see as a companion? winner announcement

You can find fun arguments for candidates under the tag #tags and replies

The current tournament is always my pinned post once it starts.

[rockange]

† ROCKANGE - Indie, Private and Selective blog for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. Primarily canon-divergent and also very much headcanon based. 20+ to interact & rules beneath the cut.

BLOGROLL (wip) : @cherribcmb (cherri bomb), @sinstagramd (velvette)

AFFILIATES : @videoaux, @alastors-radioshow, @r-adio, @xluciifer, @cardedsoul, @timelostobserver, @hellshoard

CARRD / PROMO / PLAYLIST

I.

there will be triggering content on this blog, but will be tagged as such. such things are but not limited to : religious imagery, abuse, misogyny, genocide, substance abuse (moreso mentioned). if you know the show then you should know what to expect. all things are tagged ('trigger /') but please let me know if you need anything tagged! I try to tag anything that can be upsetting to the best of my ability. this includes nsfw, which will always be marked and tagged properly beneath a read-more!

II.

I follow who I want. I am not here to police what someone writes and know how to use the block button if it upsets me enough. I hope the same courtesy is applied to me. onto other things I do not wish for anyone to tell me who I can and cannot follow, as I like to make my own decisions in regards to a person instead of whatever drama a whole group of people are involved in. speaking of drama I dislike it and won't engage in it.

if you see me interacting with someone who is GENUINELY HARMFUL (ie a predator, abuser, irl thing) then please let me know with proof. otherwise I do not care for dni lists, as I feel they do more harm than good. I also do not answer anon hate, as it goes unread and the sender blocked and the anon deleted. don't waste your time. if you have an issue with me come to me in my IMs or you may ask for my discord if it is easier.

mainly : curate your own space.

dni bigots, racists, or anyone against the lgbtqia+ community. I don't like you. as for what I refuse to write it is rape, underage and incest. thank you.

III.

I am normally mobile bound and replies come very slowly. I have issues with my mental health that make writing difficult sometimes, but please know it is rarely ever because I don't like you. I have a lot going on irl and tumblr is legit a hobby to me. that being said onto more important things. I normally hardblock if I break a mutual because softblocking can be tricky given how glitchy tumblr can be.

Rarely is it because you have done something. it's normally because we haven't interacted and I like to keep my follower count low and my dash clean for my own mental health.

IV.

I love shipping but know it is not my top priority. neither is smut. I value also chemistry between muns and talking ooc because of it to get an idea of things! Adam is a hard character to ship with given he is egotistical, narcissistic, and a misogynistic villain. please keep that in mind when interacting. know that mun does not equal muse and I do not have the same beliefs as Adam does.

onto trivial things. I write novella length replies but do not care if you match length so long as I have something to work with. I do not care if you reblog memes / aesthetics / etc from me. the only thing I ask is to not reblog posts that are threads or things specifically tagged with 'do not reblog'. I post A LOT of ooc content but know it normal pertains to adam or my mutuals, and the occasional blog update.

V.

my name is iggy and I have been writing for a very long time. I've been in multiple rpcs and you may know me by my other pennames (tolya, viktor) and if so hello, it is nice to see you again! tysm for reading my rules, and if you made it this far I am giving you a cupcake or sweet of your choosing.

[sparrowsabre7]

Why does he (Megatron) do that? (Keep cloning Dinobot)

So I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the comment that crops up frequently regarding Beast Wars: “Gee, Megatron sure clones Dinobot a lot” and I wanted to expand on my thoughts on it, because I think Megatron and Dinobot’s dynamic is one of the most interesting of the show. 

Apologies if you read my reblog from melishade this will be a largely copypaste but I wanted to make my own post to flesh out a few things

 Megatron clearly has an obsession with Dinobot. Over the course of three seasons he creates a beast mode only clone, an army of Cyber-Raptors, and finally Dinobot II. Even aside from this he tries to re-recruit Dinobot at every possible opportunity - as do the other Predacons for that matter. Ignoring all the shipping potential reasons, I believe the reasons are thus:

1. Look at Megatron's crew besides Dinobot - He begins with Scorponok, Tarantulas, Terrorsaur, and Waspinator.

Of those four only two are loyal (Scorponok and Waspinator - with the latter sometimes indicating a wavering fealty that's never acted on) and only Tarantulas is especially competent, but also the most obsessed with his own motives. None of these guys can both get the job done and be trusted not to fuck him over.

Dinobot is the unique blend of competence and loyalty, as it seems his brand of honour would have led him to follow Megatron if not for Megatron seemingly leading them to the wrong planet and not heeding his (sensible) suggestion to kill the Maximals instead of toying with them. He is an efficient warrior and clearly commands a level of respect from Megatron, present even after his defection, which he does not extend to even his existing crew.

Megatron NEEDS Dinobot a heck of a lot more than Dinobot needs Megatron. Until Inferno comes along, Megatron has a pretty poor band of followers, a replacement Dinobot that would be loyal to him would be a great asset.

2. I think part of it is also Megatron's ego. I doubt anyone has had the guts to leave his command before. Yes, the others try and take command, but he slaps them down and they get back in line, he probably expected Dinobot to do the same. For him to not only leave, but thrive with the Maximals must be something of a sore point, especially when, in the majority of their one on one encounters, Dinobot has been shown to hold his own or best Megatron in melee combat.

Megatron’s pride was wounded because Dinobot didn’t or try and defect out of a desire to lead the Predacons for 90′s villain powergrab reasons like Terrorsaur, he defected because he genuinely felt Megatron was an incompetent leader and I think that stings Megatron more keenly than he’d admit, especially given that out of many Megatrons out in the multiverse, he’s one of the most successful and competent. 

3. Sort of an addendum to the other two, it's his means of exerting control over Dinobot, or A Dinobot. By creating a Dinobot loyal to him, he's able to regain control of an aspect of his life he once lost. He thinks "If I could just make Dinobot see sense, make him loyal again. All would be well." As mentioned before, much as he suffers treacherous fools often, he still largely controls them, or - in cases like Tarantulas and Blackarachnia - acknowledges he never really had that control in the first place and thus sees their betrayals as an elaborate chess game for his own amusement. With Dinobot, his truest loyalty was to his own honour, something Megatron could not influence or bribe.

[darklinaforever]

Yes of course... The show favors TB and Aegon II is not a rapist at all in the book ! This is something he will never do ! 🤪

The Greens trailer is longer than the TB one for fucking sake !

The TG is whitewashed to death in the series. It's just a fact. What good side of the Greens in the fucking book ?! How can you tell me you haven't read the book without telling me you haven't read the book, moron.

Alicent becomes a teenager pimped by her father to marry the king Viserys. Whereas in the book she is 18 years old and wanted to be queen !

Otto pretends to care about the kingdom like the big hypocrite he is with stupid pseudo phrases of wisdom !

Criston commits killing people by accident /loss of control now, instead of during a normal tournament or voluntarily !

Aemond is the victim of harassment, even though he is the harasser in the book !

Aegon II the rapist, has insecurities related to mom and dad !!!

The Greens / Alicent usurp a stupid fucking misunderstanding.

But apparently, no, they are not highlighted positively in the show...

And women are reduced to victim roles regardless of teams in general.

I know for a fact that Rhaenyra is the one who ordered Vaemond's death in the book, I even got excited about this change in several posts ! In the show, not just Rhaenyra, but all the female characters adapted suffer huge changes from their book counterparts to give the impression that they are kinder and wiser than the men.

Once again, the Rhaenyra case with Vaemond, or Alicent who wanted to be queen, and Rhaenys who was the one who wanted to make war with the Dragons and not basic Daemon. Thanks, I read the book. Maybe before coming to complain that I haven't read it you should find out about my publications on Fire and Blood in general ! No ? Before speaking without knowing. Dumbass.

I know that Aegon II did not rape a handmaiden named Dyana in the book. But you really believe that a man who groped the servants without their consent and slept with an 11 / 12 year old girl, therefore seen as a child in the GRRM universe, is not a rapist masked by pro Greens propaganda of text ?! Learn to fucking read !

Clearly this person should go fuck themselves. I'm tired of always having idiots coming to my inbox or my comments /reblogs !

I didn't even bother to respond to this person. I just blocked her. And what will await anyone who reblogs my posts to say this type of stupidity or sends me anonymous requests or comments.

Honestly, I don't give a damn about being polite anymore. Pro TG, anti TB, anti Daemon, anti Rhaenyra, anti Daemyra, all fuck off my blog.

@kittenfangirl20 @nrilliree @lizzie-queenofmeigas