#what am i if not a sick and depraved little freak | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yesttoheaven · 3 years

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I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

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starkerforlife6969 · 4 years

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The Upper Hand - Starker

TW: violence, dark tony, overly protective tony, kidnapping

It’s not often that people get the upper hand on him.

In fact, it never happens. Tony wouldn’t allow it to happen. He plans everything. And it’s not that he’s a control freak and needs things just so, it’s that he expects a certain level from life. Whether that’s silk bedsheets or high-quality drains in the basement, he wants the best.

Peter Parker is the best. The best thing that ever happened to Tony.

He’s another reason, an important reason, the most important reason why Tony can’t afford to let people get the upper hand on him.

The safest thing to do would be to stop. To get a handle on it. To hire a storage unit and move the cage there. And he had plans to do that, really he did, but then Peter had batted his pretty eyelashes and said in that honey-sweet tone, shy and petal-perfect:

“Wouldn’t it be nice, if um…if you wanted, maybe we could…we could live together?” And he’d looked bare and vulnerable and hopeful, and Tony had kissed him hard on the mouth, rewarding his bravery.

“My home is your home, sweetheart,” he’d vowed. And that had always been true. Been true the moment he’d first laid eyes on the boy.

But it had meant, with Peter moving into the manor, that Tony hadn’t quite had the time to arrange for a storage unit. For clean up. For safety precautions.

“You sick- you sick fuck!” Beck screams, waving the keys victoriously. Tony eyes him, going for bored. Beck is dripping with blood, cocky and stupid with his luck (and it’s luck, luck and absolutely no skill at all. He caught Tony off guard, and like he said, it’s not often that anyone- especially not pieces of shit like Beck- gets the upper hand on him). “You sick fuck!” He yells again, staggering until he’s leaning against the desk. He rummages through the drawers, presumably looking for something to staunch the bleeding.

“Quin,” Tony murmurs, voice gentle, even as he tries the door. It won’t budge, he knows that. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Or what?” Beck laughs hysterically, “you don’t have any power from where I’m standing. Look who has all the power now, bitch!”

“I have all the power.” Tony hisses, tone dark, “I always have the power.”

Beck spits at them, and then races for the stairs.

Tony waits, listening.

The door of the basement rattles. Beck’s cries of despair grow louder.

“Thank goodness for the sound proofing, am I right?” Tony drawls loudly, resting his forehead against the glass door of the cage he’s trapped in. His own cage. It might even serve him right if Quentin escaped. He’s been so stupid.

Beck reappears, shaking with ire. “Where are the keys to the door?”

“Now why,” Tony wets his lips, arching an eyebrow, “would I tell you that?”

“Because you’re down here too.” Beck whispers, “you’ll starve to death.”

Tony grins.

Beck starts searching the drawers. More frantic this time.

Tony really needs to think. He needs a plan now. The key for the basement door is in his pocket. If he could get Beck to open the door to the cage, take him out- maybe. He can’t get out of the cage without Beck, and Beck can’t get out of the basement without him. It looks like a stalemate then, at least for the time being.

“Fuck!” Beck yells, kicking at the upturned desk in frustration. He’s wobbly on his legs.

Tony offers him a sympathetic smile.

—

This, Tony thinks, watching as Beck starts to doze off from a mixture of exhaustion, dehydration and blood loss, could be a problem. He does’t want Beck to die down here, because then he’d be stuck.

“Hey!” Tony snaps, knocking on the glass, “get over here, you piece of shit, I’ll give you the key. Just open the door.”

“Key…” Beck slurs, head dropping down onto his chest.

Tony’s about to start jangling the key like he’s luring a dog with a treat when his heart goes cold.

The basement door unlocks and creaks open. Golden light spills down the stairs.

Beck doesn’t even seem to notice.

Tony can hardly breathe.

“Hey, T?” Comes Peter’s gentle, sleep ruffled voice. It’s drowsy and around a yawn and utterly adorable.

“Fuck,” Tony whispers to himself.

“Are you down here? I don’t wanna disturb you, I’m just…” Peter’s voice is sweet and shy, “It’s three am and you should get some sleep.”

“Baby…” Tony whispers. It’s all crashing. It’s crashing around him. He tries to be silent.

Beck lets out a loud, gurgling cough.

There’s a beat.

“Tony?” Peter calls, more worried now. And then his footsteps, as he pads barefoot down the steps. Each one a descent closer to the truth, to the depravity, there’s no way out of this. This is a new cage. A worse cage. There’s no plan for this.

He turns, he can’t help it, he has to see- and there he is. His boy. Peter, frozen on the step.

He’s in the satin robe Tony bought him, and an oversized tee, and his hair is ruffled and mussed from where he likes to smoosh into all the pillows. His honey eyes are wide with horror.

They cast over the scene. Quentin, almost out cold, missing teeth and covered in blood, and Tony, pristine, trapped in the cage.

Peter doesn’t move. He stares: frozen.

“Peter, sweetheart,” Tony murmurs, and then his voice cracks. “I don’t know how to explain this.”

Peter trembles. His entire body shaking and Tony just wants to wrap him up in a hug. His boy looks at Beck.

“Is that…” Peter whispers, “is he…is he dead?” There’s terror in his voice.

“Just passed out, I think.” Tony murmurs, keeping his voice soothing. “He got the upper had on me.”

“Is that…it looks like Beck. He’s been missing for weeks, Tony, has he…oh god…”

“He hurt you, baby, I wasn’t gonna let that stand-“

“Oh my god,” Peter covers his mouth, chocking on a sob. “Tony!”

His crying stirs Beck, who seems to come back to life with a sudden flood of adrenaline.

“Peter!” Beck yells, staggering to his feet, seeing the open basement door.

Peter lets out a scream of terror, turning and fleeing up the stairs. Tony can only watch in horror as Beck runs after him.

He beats at the glass, roars like a trapped animal, but there’s nothing he can do.

He doesn’t know what’s happening up there. Beck’s probably run out- he’d know better by now, than to try to hurt Peter. He’s called the police. Or Pete’s called the police, and they’re coming. Tony sinks slowly to the ground in quiet contemplation.

He had a good run. He got everything he wanted in life. He knew love. Maybe Peter will visit him in prison. Peter’s beautifully, naively loyal like that. Tony will break out for him- as long as Peter can forgive him, and Peter will eventually.

Right? The thought that he might not makes Tony shut his eyes against the onslaught of pain. What if his boy can never look at him again, what if he’s lost it- his soulmate?

The thoughts take him to a place of nothing. A tortured infinity. When suddenly-

There’s a horrible clattering and a thumping, and Beck’s, very much dead, body comes careening down the stairs.

Tony jerks up, gets to his feet, and watches as Peter walks down after it. Tony immediately scans him for bruises. There’s blood speckled on his cheek (it’s a very good look) and tears glistening in his eyes. He looks okay, he looks-

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Peter sniffles miserably, finally coming down the stairs and standing before Tony. The glass parts them horribly, Tony wants to reach out and touch. Peter looks small and sad. “He was gonna- he wouldn’t give me the keys. He was gonna turn you in.”

It’s starting to dawn on him. Tony can hardly believe it. “Pete…”

“I begged him,” Peter cries, with his perfect little face. “I just wanted the keys, and if he promised not to tell anyone, it would be- he could leave, but he- I had to-“ and he starts to cry.

Tony presses himself against the glass. “You’ve saved me, baby, shhh, you didn’t do anything wrong. My precious boy, my angel, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Peter has to take a few moments to compose himself, before he can stop shaking. And then, miraculously, Tony’s very own guardian angel (and isn’t that funny, he’d thought he was protecting Peter all this time, but he should have known) slides the key into the lock.

Peter pulls open the door, and stands there, looking at Tony meaningfully.

Tony gets it.

He races to his boy, sweeps him into an embrace and peppers him with kisses. Whispers a litany of reassurance and praise.

He carries Peter upstairs, barely suppressing anger at the state of the living room and kitchen. There’s been a struggle, Peter’s probably more hurt than Tony can see.

He lowers his boy into a hot bath, full of bubbles and Peter’s favourite fragrance, and the boy’s starting to slump now, his honey eyed angel, adrenaline slipping out of his system. There are bruises forming on his ribs and it’s probably a good thing Beck's dead because Tony would have to make him pay.

“Sleep, little one,” Tony whispers, kissing Peter’s damp forehead, and letting him nap in the safety of the jacuzzi bath.

He cleans the mess of the kitchen and the living room. Then he goes to deal with the basement. Beck is dead, and Tony drags his body into the cage. He reorganises his desk and mops up the blood.

He locks the basement door behind him.

——

Peter’s still asleep in the bath, so Tony showers quickly, changes into fresh pyjamas, and comes to carry his boy to bed. He wraps him in a towel, dresses him in silk, and tucks him in, sliding in beside him and combing his fingers through that butter-soft hair.

His Peter, his angel. “What did I do to deserve you?” Tony marvels aloud, “my sunshine, honey, boy. My sweetheart,”

“I love you,” Peter whispers sleepily, eyes still closed. “You should keep a spare key hidden in the cage.”

Tony blinks. His heart bursts with love. “I adore you, Peter Parker.”

There are problems to deal with, a dead body in the basement, bruises on his boy that Tony will kiss but one more thing is in Tony’s mind.

The only person to ever really get the upper hand on him, is Peter Parker. And Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.

i love you guys!

#starker #dark tony #kidnapping #overly protective tony #violence #dark peter?#a little #peter x tony #established relationship #happy ending

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enthusiasticsobrietyabuse · 3 years

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Parent Manipulation Part 1 - Originally posted in 2005 OnTheEmmis.com, a Meehan Program Survivor Website and Discussion Forum. (ICECAP is the former incorporation of enthusiastic sobriety programs, it has since dissolved due to the effectiveness of OnTheEmmis.com)

Part of ICECAP’s selling point is just HOW unorthodox they are. Counselors are trained to peddle the ‘shock’ value of a non-traditional program. It makes sense to many parents, because they see the professional community pathetically limping in the dust of young drug addicts in America today. Then they see ICECAP. Within its walls are dozens of young souls who are just absolutely ecstatic about being there. Where else is this happening in the world of rehab? While I am sure these places exist, my experience has been that they are few and far between.

ICECAP milks that point to no end. On the surface, I can see it being very difficult to deny that any ICECAP facility is producing some kind of positive results. Desperate and nearly to the point of hopelessness, many parents are willing to cloud their better judgment for the sake of something…ANYTHING that will help their children recover from their current nightmares. To these parents, ICECAP is a godsend. They see something different…that is apparently working, and they submit to the fever of potential miracles.

Even the skeptical parent will have a hard time denying the lure of ICECAP. Eventually they become involved with the parent group, and there they meet average Joe Dad and Jane Mom, who are just like them and are saying all these wonderful things about ICECAP. All the red flags are carefully lowered and the cautious and suspicious parents are disarmed through a process that involves the meticulous coordination of staff/parent group/younger group/client and then finally parent…though not always in that order. They have an answer for everything…from the late nights and no school, to the smoking and irresponsible lifestyle. All the answers make sense and seem so logical…

If I may, I would like to take some (a lot of) posting space to poke some holes in this seemingly infallible construction of moral high ground and loving happiness that ICECAP claims to be delivering from.

To begin, ICECAP is in fact extremely attractive. Not just because of the reasons I pointed out above, but for many reasons. Walk down the hall and through the doors of an ICECAP meeting. What do you see? A bunch of cool guys wearing slick clothes, hot girls adorned in the latest fads that the mall has to offer, rock star counselors and smiling suburban parents. Wow.

What you don’t see is the ugly sight of a genuine crack head detoxing. You don’t see the sickness of heroin withdrawal, or the brutality of the world that real addiction and drug abuse/alcoholism has to reveal. Rarely, if ever, will you find in ICECAP the wild madness and insanity that drug addiction has to offer humanity. When these unfortunates do happen to stumble through ICECAP’s door, they almost invariably do not recover there. I know, because I have seen it, but more on that later.

I find it interesting that ICECAP targets white middle/upper middle class families almost exclusively. There is absolutely no effort by ICECAP to reach beyond this demographic at all. Why? When you think about it, wouldn’t someone who comes from the depraved background that Meehan claims to come from be at least slightly interested in helping those whose stories are more like his? How many ICECAP clients are repeated felons, heroin junkies, or murderers? Almost none of them are. In my opinion, this set up is the first element of being disarmed that a parent encounters.

What wealthy, or semi wealthy parent wants their kid in a place where a bunch of ex-violent criminals hang out at? My guess is that when presented with the ICECAP pitch, which at nearly every ICECAP facility includes the line about how they do not accept insurance; your average suburban upper tax-bracket parent takes a silent sigh of relief. If they don’t accept insurance, then they know that the place does not harbor certain ‘undesirables’, because those types of people would never be able to afford ICECAP treatment. In that there is a certain mutual agreement of ‘silence’ going on between the parent and ICECAP. ‘We won’t ask why this facility is full of white suburban kids as long as you keep my kid around safe white suburban kids’.

That would be fine except for one thing: the reason there are so many ‘attractive’ kids from well-off families in ICECAP is because ICECAP primarily does not target true drug addicts. If they did, you would certainly see more of those ‘ugly’ cases that I mentioned above. The truth is; ICECAP primarily targets kids who have quite commonly and naturally stumbled into experimentation with mind altering substances. Left to their own devices, I am of the opinion that most of the kids that become involved in ICECAP would have gone through their adolescence just fine, despite some dabbling in the drug and alcohol culture.

I realize that it may sound as though I am condoning the use of drugs and alcohol by adolescents to some extent. Believe me; I know there are kids out there, even particularly young ones; that need some sort of intervention and rehabilitation when it comes to drugs and alcohol. However, there are few of those kids in ICECAP.

To put what I am saying into perspective, let me share with you an experience I had when I was 15.

I was at a party full of teens from my high school. There were perhaps 50-60 kids at this get-together. Every one of them were drinking and/or smoking pot, many of them were participating in sexual activities, and every single one of them WANTED to and was trying to do all of the above. This was not a party exclusively for ‘dope fiends’ or ‘freaks’ or anything like that. Most of the kids at this shindig were truly just your average high school teens, and many of them were at an identical party just a week before. Many of them would be at an identical party the next week.

Tell me, what seems to make more sense to you: That EVERY ONE of these kids was in need of being yanked out of school and subjected to an outpatient rehabilitation facility, or that they were for the most part kids being kids? I can’t say that I’ve kept up with each of those teens at that party, but I find it really hard to believe that they are every one of them sitting in gutters right now with needles hanging out of their arms.

The truth is that almost NO PARENT likes the idea that THEIR kid is in fact one of those kids at that party. However unfortunate it may be, chances are your kid IS one of those kids. ICECAP knows this, and knows it well.

The truth is that as far as ICECAP is concerned, every single one of those kids at that party IS fit for and IN NEED of their $6,000 outpatient program.

Of the 50-60 kids that were at that particular party, each one of them has one of two kinds of parents that could potentially find themselves in an ICECAP intervention: The ‘worried sick and hopeless parent’, and the ‘clueless’ parent. ICECAP has a brilliant line for both of these types of encounters.

For the worried sick and hopeless parent, they are already full of fear; so that is one obstacle that the given ICECAP counselor does not have to overcome, and can proceed directly to its exploitation. After meeting for over an hour with their child, the counselor then asks the parent/parents to then sit down with him, without the child. They are usually first presented with the structure of ‘enthusiastic sobriety’, and then carefully guided through the counselor’s ‘diagnosis’ of the child, at which point the fear they walked in with is thoroughly taken advantage of. He tells them, ‘first of all, to what extent you THINK your child is using, you can safely double or triple that. Your son/daughter has been for quite some time falling into the pitfalls of a very attractive and powerful drug and alcohol counter culture. It is nearly impossible to wrench young people today from the grip of this diseased phenomenon once they are into it to the extent that your child is. I know this because…’ At which point the counselor shares a true or untrue account of his own experiences with drugs and the drug culture. By the time he is finished, thanks to all of that plus clever little catch-phrases such as ‘true, Billy/Jenny may not be shooting heroin today, but at his/her rate of progression, you can bet on that nightmare down the road’ the parent has gone from being terrified to utterly mortified. The hook has been cast at this point, and it is here that the counselor begins to discuss the ‘solution’.

A recap of how brilliantly ‘enthusiastic sobriety’ competes with this vaunted ‘counter culture’ is usually in order here, followed by a description of outpatient. Another testimony by the counselor involving his own experience with IOP is conveyed, and then the cost.

If the parent is reluctant, or can’t afford it, emotional blackmailing goes into overdrive here, and is perhaps the most insidious aspect of the ‘intervention’. The parent/parents is told in so many words that their son/daughter will DIE if they do not get the ‘intensive level’ of ‘necessary treatment’ that outpatient provides, that the support group alone cannot hope to accomplish.

If the parent continues to flounder after this underhanded attempt to ‘guilt’ them into paying for IOP, then the counselor will usually back down and explain that while he feels the support group (just meetings and functions) is at this point a ‘disservice’ to the child, if that is all they can do then that’s the route they’ll go. He convinces the parent to attend parent meetings and functions rigorously for at least 30 days (same commitment as the kid), and thanks them for their time.

None of this ends here, of course. After the parent has left, this is what a ‘good’ counselor does:

He offers the name of the parent to either the ‘parent coordinator’ or a trusted parent on steering committee. He tells them that he felt as though the kid really needed IOP, but Mom/Dad couldn’t afford it or was skeptical of the idea, and that he would like this ICECAP parent to ‘work on them’. As the ‘intervention’ parent continues to attend parent meetings, they are relentlessly pushed by other parents at the direction of the parent coordinator to figure out a way to get their son/daughter into IOP.

Meanwhile, the kid is going to meetings and being told by other kids that he/she should go into IOP…that it is the ‘coolest’, and you really get the ‘gnarly’ shit about the group in IOP. This will turn from innocent prodding to downright peer pressure very quickly, and eventually the kid is going home and asking, sometimes begging mom/dad to get them in IOP.

If by now the parent is still not willing to do the $6,000 dollar shuffle, what usually occurs is sad and much of what continues to anger me about ICECAP’s tactics. The counselor will keep tabs with the parent, keeping them updated and developing a ‘relationship’ with the parent. Often, this is what goes down: The kid feels so much pressure from both staff and peers to attend IOP that he/she will quickly realize (usually with the help of the counselor), the reasons why he/she cannot go. Kids aren’t stupid, and Billy knows that either mom doesn’t think his problem is serious enough, or she just isn’t willing to call up grandpa for the dough. So he goes out and gets high one night.

The counselor, of course is ALL OVER THIS ‘relapse’, and schedules an appointment immediately with the family. After 30 minutes of what pretty much amounts to ‘I told ya so’ from the counselor, the parent takes out a second mortgage or calls up grandpa or takes out a line of credit and coughs up the $6,000 for outpatient.

ICECAP staff would argue that these are merely ‘imperative measures’ to take in order to ‘help this kid get better’, to ‘save his/her life’. I argue that this is a carefully constructed sequence of manipulation to paint a false picture of a fairly normal kid as a ‘dope fiend’ in order to sucker well-off families out of six grand.

The ‘clueless’ parent is dealt with in almost the same way, except the counselor must first instill the fear into the parents who have ‘no idea’ that their kid is so ‘sucked in to the world of drug and alcohol abuse’.

I challenge anyone to tell me the story of the family who was told: ‘Your kid really doesn’t have much of an issue. He/she could probably be a bit wiser about what friends they choose, maybe come to some meetings and see a more positive lifestyle…but really they don’t need intensive treatment from us…’ by ICECAP.

The only instance that I can think of in the ten years I was involved with ICECAP, was that of a young man who convincingly conveyed to everyone that he truly was a non-abuser, and that he simply went to a meeting to see a friend. IOP was not pushed on to this kid or his family, but being on staff at the time, I can tell you that the idea to somehow worm this kid into treatment was definitely kicked around.

I went into this aspect of ICECAP as the first part to a series about the structure of ICECAP and its functions. The intent is to provide sound knowledge and information to potential or current clients of ICECAP. The reason I wanted to expose this particular area of ICECAP’s doctrine first is because I believe that there are more clients there who fall into this school of thought than any other. These are the kids who aren’t quite ‘non-abusers’ as ICECAP would like to call them, but certainly aren’t ‘dope fiends’ as ICECAP would have you believe.

Next I intend to focus on the consequences of these manipulative tactics. Where’s the harm? If they never are at one of those high school parties ever again and spend the next two to five years of their lives steeped in the principals of love, patience and understanding…then what’s so bad about it?

PLENTY.

To be continued…

#enthusiastic sobriety #bob meehan #meehan #clint stonebraker #enthusiastic sobriety abuse #breaking code silence #troubled teen industry #parents #tti #the insight program #the crossroads program #the pathway program #the cornerstone program #the full circle program #rehab #troubled teen

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xsixxx · 5 years

Text

Bad Influence - Chapter 10

Word Count - 5.5K

Authors Note - It's what ya'll have been waiting 10 chapters for, fingers crossed it doesn't disappoint 😂

Warnings - Filthy dirty sleazy smutty smut, language as always, angst, Nikki not giving a fuck about anyone but Nikki

Tags - Tags: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples @queen-crue @scarecrowmax @lovesick-heart0 @littlesunnymoon @80sheart-strings @cranberribread @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @versnatasha @zoenicoles @crazysaladchopshop @ggorehorror @lunamadhatter99 @justtryingtoovercome @chaoticvybe @you-know-im-a-dreamer @eightiesrockbaby @valentines-in-london @xrosegoldwolfx @fupatroopaa @lilypetite88 @this-blog-must-be-the-place @ashleecrue @lauravic @dark-princess99 @unknownoblivion @mgkobsessed @antheasnow

(Nikki attitude this whole goddamn chapter)

"Beth, you can't hide in your bed any longer, get up." Came Sophias stern voice as she tore the covers off of me. I groaned out loud, grabbing ahold of them, pulling them back over me, tucking it right under my chin for extra comfort.

"Leave me alone Soph, I'm sick." I mumbled pathetically.

"Girl, you can pull that shit with Paul to get outta work but I'm not buying it. You're fine, you're just feeling sorry for yourself & you need to get over it." Sophia snapped, always one for the gentle approach. She sighed as she sat down on the edge of my bed. "You can't avoid Nikki forever."

"Why would I be avoiding Nikki, I haven't done anything wrong?" I muttered, fidgiting a little & purposely avoiding eye contact.

"No, exactly, you haven't, so why are you pulling a sicky?!"

"I'm not!" I replied, a little sharper this time. "Soph look, I just don't feel well, ok? Most friends would offer to bring me soup or something, not give me the goddamn third degree."

"Fine, fine, whatever you say." Sophia resigned, putting her hands up in defeat as she rose from my bed. "To be fair to you, you must be ill because you look like shit." She laughed as I threw a pillow that narrowly missed her face. "But don't pretend like you're not avoiding Nikki, that boy has left 3 voicemails in the last week asking if you're ok. At least phone him back & let him know that the 'fever' hasn't taken you just yet." She winked as she used air quotes to emphasise her shit eating sarcasm.

"Whatever," I groaned, pulling the covers over my head, "I'll do it after my nap now can you please go get ready for work, you're gonna be late & you're getting on my nerves."

I heard Sophia scoff as she left the room, closing the door behind her as she went.

Ok, maybe she was right, maybe I had been avoiding Nikki. But not on purpose, I was actually sick. Sort of. Mentally drained counted as sick in my book.

I yanked the covers back from over my head as I let out an over dramatic & exasperated sigh. It'd been a week since I'd practically ran from the Mötley house like a scared, overwhelmed teen who'd realised that maybe they weren't cut out for hanging around with the popular kids.

I don't really know what happened & that's probably the thing that scares me most.

One minute I'm in Nikki's room, listening to his music &, I think, kissing him?

Then I was back with Tommy, snorting more lines & drinking so much I'd be surprised if there's any booze left anywhere on the Sunset Strip, because I'm pretty sure I drank it all.

Next thing I knew, there was a guy getting a little too handsy, feeling me up & trying to guide me into the bathroom with him. And what scares me most is knowing that I was definitely too fucked up to have stood my ground if push had come to shove. If Nikki hadn't have overheard & come out his room when he did, that guy could've easily snuck me away from the party & no-one would've been any the wiser.

Fuck.

I'm supposed to be the sensible one.

How had I let myself get so wrapped up in this lifestyle that is, in reality, a million miles away from my own?

I'm not a rockstar. I'm not a groupie. I'm not a party girl.

I'm a psychology student with deadlines to meet, debt to pay.

I didn't want a bad boy who'd drop me as soon as he's had his fill, I wanted a steady boyfriend that'd take me on dates, had a stable job & that my father wouldn't despise.

I had always had a plan. I was going to get my degree, have a career & a marriage & a family, maybe a dog, & be happy.

So what was I doing down this path to depravity?

I rolled over & buried my face in my pillow as I let out a exasperated groan into the soft void.

I just didn't belong in Mötley Crüe's world.

*Later*

A sudden, sharp rasp on my bedroom door jolted me awake.

"Beth, stop pretending you're sick, you got a visitor." Soph yelled through the wood before throwing the door open & shoving a slightly pissed off looking Nikki into my room.

"Sorry, late for work, gotta run!" Sophia voice rang smugly in a sing-song voice as she rushed away from my room & down the hall. I listened to the patter of her heels along the flooring, then the sound of her unlock the front door & before slamming it with purpose to announce her departure. I scowled at the space she had stood in just seconds before, mentally cursing her out.

I glanced at Nikki who had lifted a judgemental brow, eyeing up the sight of me in my pyjamas, unbrushed hair & no make up, napping at 4pm.

"Oh you because you've never woke up in worse states." I shot at him defensively, scrambling to sit up, pulling my knees into my chest under the covers. "What do you want Sixx?" I mumbled awkwardly, scowling at the wall whilst I refused to make eye contact.

"Beth, I've left you messages. What, you couldn't be arsed to pick up the phone & let me know you're ok?!" He asked sharply, his expression clearly annoyed. "I was wo-" he checked himself, cutting off the statement, but it was too late.

I smirked a little. "Nikki Sixx, were you worried about me?"

"No, I wasn't worried, I just-"

"Turns out the bad boy has a soft side." I teased.

Nikki's face grew red as he brow furrowed in frustration & embarrassment. "Oh yanno what, just fuck it, I shouldn't have bothered.." he murmured to himself, turning on his heels & walking back out of the bedroom door.

"No wait Nikki, c'mon I'm sorry, I was only joking, I'm sorry!" I called after him, causing him to stop & cautiously turn back around. "Please just come back in here." I pouted at him. Nikki's face softened & he came & stood at the foot of my bed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the ornate bed frame.

"I'm sorry if I freaked you out the other night." I heard him mumbled quietly, almost as if he was hoping I wouldn't quite catch it.

"You didn't freak me out, it was that guy.." I trailed off, letting my eyes follow Nikki's hands that was still dancing along the footboard. "Thank you, for stepping in, god knows what could've happened if you didn't." I said quietly, finally lifting my eyes to his just in time to catch his dart across in my direction. Our eyes met & Nikki acknowledged my thanks with a little awkward nod.

"You're welcome." He replied with a little cough, trying to hide his discomfort at the whole situation. “So, um, why have you been avoiding me? Yanno, if its not because I scared you?” He stumbled.

I hung my head slightly, unsure of how much truth to share. I couldn’t tell him it was because being a groupie didn’t exactly fit into my life plan. Christ, I hadn’t even slept with the guy & I’m already getting ready to run away because he’s not marriage material. I let out a soft, unamused chuckle at my own ridiculous reasonings. “Nikki, I just..” I decided to share a little bit of truth. “I just don’t fit in.” I blurted out.

Nikki let out a short, almost relieved laugh. “What?” He asked, bemused now.

I shook my head, hearing how must’ve sounded. “I mean, I just don’t fit into your world. I got swept up in having fun with you guys, but I’m just not that girl. I don’t know, I guess I got carried away with it all.”

Nikki looked at me intently, pondering what I'd said before carefully responding. “But, you had fun right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, of course I did. But that’s not the point.”

“Of course that’s the point!” Nikki cut in quickly. “Beth, you were the one that told me you lived wrapped up in goddamn bubble wrap, not able to do what you wanted or enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah, but only because Daddy wanted to protect us!” I said defensively.

“And now you’re a grown ass adult Lizzy.” Nikki’s expression softened a little & he hesitantly reached for my hand. “Look, I know your dad wanted to look after you and all that, but you can’t let what happened to your mom stop you from living your own life.”

“I’m not, I just..” I let the sentence trail off. “The other night just made me realise how reckless I’m being. This isn’t who I am. The drugs, the partying, ever since I met you guys I’ve just been someone that I’m not & just think need to distance myself, ok?”

Nikki shrugged, withdrawing his hand from mine a little sharply. “I get that sometimes were a little much & we can take things a bit too far, but don’t put your twisted daddy guilt on me & my band. You chose to come to our parties, no-one forced coke up your nose or pushed you into bed with Vince, you did all that shit because you wanted to & because you enjoyed it. Look, I’m not gonna beg you to stick around if that’s what you’re waiting for because that just isn’t me. If you wanna stay away, that's cool, we'll leave you be. But for what my opinion is worth, which probably ain’t shit, I think you’re being hard on yourself. You’re not a bad person for enjoying the darker side of life.” Nikki’s voice was blunt & hard, but I could hear the sincerity in it too. “Beth, you’re punishing yourself for having fun.” He finished.

Fuck, he was right.

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Nikki’s words lingering in the air as I absorbed what he’d said, trying to figure out where my head was at. I knew that what he was saying was true, but that didn't give me an excuse to go out & do whatever I pleased. I had to take responsibility for my life, be sensible, make the right choices.

Right?

Eventually Nikki rose from the bed, rocking on his heels as he tried to find words to try & clear the awkward atmosphere.

“Ok, well I think maybe that’s my queue to go.” He announced, leaning in to me & giving me a light peck on the forehead. “I hope you figure all of this shit out Beth. Don’t let your dads fears stop you from enjoying your own life. Do what you gotta do, but don’t forget to do what you wanna do sometimes.” He said as he walked towards the the open door. He paused in the doorway, turning his head slightly to look at me & gave me that infamous smirk one last time. My stomach flipped at the sight. “I’ll miss ya, Lizzy." He winked before walking away, down the hallway & out of sight. I let out a breathe I hadn’t realised I'd been holding in as I heard the door open & shut, the click of the latch catching sending a feeling of regret run cold though my body.

Fuck.

I threw the bed covers off of me & ran down the hallway, my bare feet slapping loudly on the laminate flooring. I reached the front door & took a deep breathe, my mind made up as I wrenched open the door & flew down the first set of stairs, not putting another thought into what I was about to do. I ran down the second flight, almost crashing into Nikki on the landing between staircases. I didn’t give him chance to react as he spun round, about to curse out whoever had nearly sent him flying. I grabbed a hold of his face, kissing him roughly & deeply. Nikki’s body went from rigid & angry to relaxed & smug in an instant, his hands snaking around my waist, pulling me in closer as I could feel his smirk beneath my lips. He finally broke the kiss, leaning away from me fractionally to give me a bemused, sly look. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I wanna do.” I quoted him as he chuckled darkly.

“Good girl.” He mumbled against my lips, those two words, mixed with the taste of his kiss making me weak. I took his hand & lead him back up the stairs, feeling his eyes trailing along every inch of my body with every step I took.

We reached the front door & I went to reach for the handle, but Nikki grabbed my wrist, spinning me back around & pushing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my hands above my head with one hand as his other trailed along my lips, down my neck and lightly across my chest. His eyes didn’t leave mine the whole time, his hungry gaze enough to undo me right there & then. He pressed his lips roughly against mine as his fingers carried on their journey down my stomach & along the waistband of the little pyjama shorts I was wearing. He let them dance teasingly along my exposed skin before he slid his hand under the fabric, stroking me on the outside of my panties.

I tried to wriggle my hands free to grab his hand, conscious of the fact that anyone could walk past us, but Nikki only tightened his grip in response.

I pulled away from his kiss, trying to ignore how good his fingers were making me feel. “Nikki, I have neighbours!” I hissed. “What if someone walks past us?”

Nikki smirked once again. “That’s the point Angel. Best keep quiet.” He winked as his fingers expertly moved my panties to the side before sliding inside me, making me gasp with pleasure.

“Nikki, c’mon, I mean it!” I tried to protest as his fingers began to rhythmically pump against my wetness, his thumb finding its way to my clit & rubbing in small circles, making me moan out loud against my better judgement.

“Nikki..” I trailed off, forgetting what I was complaining about as he picked up speed, letting my eyes close. I stopped caring. I couldn’t focus on being mad, I could only focus on him. I rocked my hips against his hand, our rhythms syncing perfectly causing new waves of pleasure that I couldn’t hide. I desperately tried to stifle my moans, but Nikki wouldn’t let me. His fingers worked faster & harder, driving me closer & closer to the edge.

I opened my eyes to see his fixed on me, his lustful gaze soaking up the sight of me coming undone in front of him like he’d wanted for so long.

Nikki smiled darkly & leaned in to me, letting his lips brush my ear lobe as he whispered “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you give me that look.”

“What look?” I managed to gasp between my soft moans.

“The look you give when your wet, begging for my touch.” He chuckled. “Now cum for me, Angel. Right here, right now.”

His commanding words almost pushed me over the edge & I closed my eyes once again, letting my head tilt back as I got ready to indulge in my release.

But my eyes snapped open at the sound of the door to the building opening 2 floors below. I heard footsteps begin to ascend the stairs & I wriggled against Nikki’s grip once again, but his smirk only grew wider. “Nuh-uh Princess, not until you cum.”

“Nikki, this isn’t funny!” I shot at him quickly, but his fingers didn’t stop. His thumb carried on trailing delectable circles on my clit as his fingers moved quicker inside me, pushing deeper. I listened to the footsteps grow closer as my orgasm did the same, until I couldn’t stop it. Nikki’s lips crashed against mine to silence the moans of ecstasy that wanted to escape my mouth as I came around Nikki fingers, the urgency & danger only adding to the intensity.

Nikki swiftly removed his hand from my panties, licking his fingers & winking at me as I straightened up just in time for Mrs Salvador, our upstairs neighbour, to appear in view as she made her way up the staircase with grocery bags in either hand, smiling when she spotted me.

“Good afternoon, dear!” She beamed as I smiled politely.

“Good afternoon Mrs Salvador.” I managed, still flustered.

“And who do we have here?” She nodded in Nikki’s direction.

“I’m Nikki!” He responded all chipper & pleased with himself.

“Well nice to meet you Nikki, I’d shake your hand but I best get these bags upstairs.” Mrs Salvador smiled as she carried on her way.

Nikki shot me a sly look, smirking a usual. “Probably for the best.” He chuckled back to her, shrugging as a took a swipe at him when Mrs Salvador’s back was turned.

He grabbed my waist & pulled me towards him as he reached for the door at the same time. “Now, I’m not done with you.” He growled, nipping at my neck before opening the door & pulling me through.

Now safely on the other side of the door, I felt more confident as I kissed Nikki roughly, trailing kisses along his jawline & down his neck, softly biting as I went.

“My turn.” I mumbled against his skin, before dropping to my knees without hesitation.

I unlaced his tight leather trousers, lifting my eyes up to meet Nikki’s, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth as I watched him appreciate the sight of me on my knees in front of him. I flashed him a smirk of my own & placed light kisses along the waistband of his trousers before reaching into them & pulling out his swollen member.

*Nikki’s POV*

Beth lifted her eyes to mine once again as she slowly licked the tip, teasing me, waiting to see my reaction. I let out a low groan watching her smirk & circle her tongue around the head of my cock before taking it into her mouth.

“Fuck” I hissed through my teeth a I felt Beths hot, wet lips wrap around my dick & watched her delicate hands wrap around the base, working it slowly to begin with. I felt myself grow harder in her mouth, my eyes fixated on the sight of her with my cock between her perfect, plump lips.

She picked up speed, running her tongue up & down the length of me, applying just enough pressure to make me curse again. I threw back my head & let a low moan escape me. I grabbed a fistful of Beth’s hair, bucking my hips against her as she pumped faster, using her hands to work what her mouth couldn’t reach.

“Christ, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about fucking your pretty little mouth.” I grinned between my moans of desire. Beth looked back up at me, eyes so innocent I could’ve cum just from the look she gave me. She groaned around my cock, sucking me deeper into her mouth, her one hand finding its way to me balls, fondling them & causing me to groan louder as the pleasure increased.

I thrust my hips against her, helping her take all of me into her throat. I felt the sensation overwhelm me, pushing me closer to cumming, but I wasn’t gonna cum like this.

I put my fingers gently under Beths chin, lifting her face to look at me, her lips still wrapped around my dick. I groaned at the sight once more, fighting the urge to let her just carry on until I came in that perfect mouth.

Instead, I took her hand & helped her to her feet, running my hands through her blonde hair & kissing her before leading her towards her own room. I shut the door behind us & pulled off my tshirt before pushing Beth on to the bed. I pulled off her top, revealing her lack of bra & climbed on top of her, placing kisses lazily across he chest until my lips brushed against her nipple. I nipped it gently, causing a sharp inhale of breath from Beth, before taking it into my mouth & sucking as I used my thumb & finger to caress the other one. Beth let out a delicious whimper & I continued my trail of nipping & sucking down her stomach to the waistband of her shorts.

I slowly pulled them off along with her panties, revealing Beth’s perfect little pink pussy, glistening with her wetness. I bit my lip at the sight, desperate to taste her.

I placed kisses along Beths thighs, sucking lightly as I made my way inwards until my lips brushed against the ones between her legs. I felt her abs tense & heard her draw in a sharp breathe as her hand came down & rested on the back of my head, her fingers getting lost in my hair. I continued kissing around her pussy, making Beth squirm until she couldn’t take it anymore. I let my tongue drift towards her clit, lightly brushing over it before applying a little more pressure & swirling my tongue against her. Fuck, she tasted like heaven.

“Fuck, Nikki!” Beth called out, whimpering & moaning as I smirked against her clit. I had waited too damn long to hear her call out my name, it sounded so fucking sweet on her angel lips.

I carried on circling my tongue as I eased my finger inside her, gently thrusting it in & out until I heard her breath quicken. I let it get faster & faster, listening to her orgasm build up until her fingers started to tighten in my hair & then I simply stopped.

“Sixx, what the fuck!” Beth panted, lifting her head up to look at me. I gave her my best smug smile as I pulled off my leather pants & climbed back on top of her. I let the head of my cock rub against her clit, causing an involuntary moan to escape her mouth into mine as I kissed her.

“You can cum when I do, Princess” I smiled wickedly, climbing off of her to find a condom. I always kept one handy in my trouser pocket. I ripped open the packet & rolled it on, moving back over to Beth & flipping her over, so she was on all fours, knees on the edge of the bed, ass in the air & that cute little pussy on full display for me. I let my cock glide up & down the length of her, spreading her wetness around as she whimpered for me.

“Tell me what you want, Angel.” I teased.

“You.” I heard her whimper as her ass wiggled in the air as she tried to back herself up onto my throbbing cock.

“Uh-uh Princess. Tell me what you want.” I demanded, giving her wet pussy a sharp little tap with my hand, causing a gasp, followed by a moan to emanate from Beth.

“I want you to fuck me, Nikki!” She choked out between moans as my fingers brushed lazily against her clit.

“Ask nicely, Angel.” I warned.

“Please Nikki, please fuck me!” Beth cried out desperately “Fuck, I want you inside me.”

I teased her entrance with the tip of my cock, prolonging her desperation for just a second longer as I appreciated what it was like to finally have her at my mercy before I eased myself inside of her. Her warmth was enticing & her wetness made it easy to push my whole length deep inside her. Beths moans were fucking music to my ears as she called out my name, signalling me to pick up the pace.

I grabbed a hold of her hips, digging my fingers into her delicate skin, instantly colouring her pale skin a nice shade of purple underneath my fingertips. I grinned at the sight; a reminder for her later.

I started thrusting, finding my rhythm as our moans synced along with our hips. I started out slow, thrusting deep as Beth cried out.

“Fuck Sixx, you’re so big!” She moaned as she inevitably pulled away from me. I slapped her ass & pulled her back to me, burying my dick back inside her. I grabbed her hair as I picked up the pace, thrusting harder & faster as Beth got more comfortable, pushing her ass back against me, matching my rhythm.

I brought down a sharp slap on her ass once again as she called out my name. “I’m gonna cum Nikki!” She yelled out.

I chuckled harshly. “I told you, you cum when I do, doll.”

I slowly pulled back, almost all the way, before pushing my cock back in, hard, making her take all of me. Beth let out yell of pleasure & pain, pulling away from me once again, causing me to pull out.

I released my fingers from her hair & I lay down on the bed, motioning for Beth to get on top. She didn’t need telling twice.

She eagerly straddled me, placing her knees either side of my hips before she reached for hungrily for my cock, positioning it beneath her, sliding herself down on to me with a deliciously slow pace that nearly made me cum.

“Fuck Beth!” I called out, grabbing her hair & pulling her lips to me, tasting her sweet kiss as she slowly rode my cock.

Beth sat back up, placing her hands on my chest to steady herself as she thrust up & down on my dick. I reached my hand up past her bouncing tits to her pretty neck, wrapping my fingers around it & squeezing, gently at first, trying to gage her reaction. Beth drew her bottom lip between her teeth & gave me a pleading look that told me to carry on, so I tightened my grip, causing her pace to quicken. I groaned at the sight of her perfect, wet pussy sliding up & down my cock, bringing me closer to my release.

Keeping my grip on her throat, I rolled over so Beth was beneath me, softening my grip momentarily for her to take a sudden gasp of air. I grinned at her as she let a moan escape before my grip tightened once again.

“I’ve wanted you beneath me for so fucking long, Angel. Now, you have my permission to cum.” I smirked as I began thrusting hard & fast, bouncing my hips against hers as Beth wrapped her legs around my waist & dragged her nails down my back. I let out a low growl at the pain, squeezing tighter on her neck, leaving more purple bruises as evidence that she was mine.

I watched as her beautiful, innocent face got twisted up with sin & I let go of her just in time to hear the sound of her orgasm come crashing out of her glossy, angelic lips. Her forehead was glistening with a light film of sweat as her eyebrows furrowed & her lips parted ever so slightly. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as I felt her cum around my cock.

I smirked as I watched her, knowing I’d caused that sinful look in her eyes, just like I’d always wanted.

I felt my own release build up as I watched Beth squirm & writhe from her own, not breaking pace or easing for a second, dragging out her orgasm.

“Tell me who you belong to.” I demanded, edging closer, groaning as the sight of Beth cumming beneath me.

“You. I-I belong to you.” She choked out between gasps & moans. “Cum for me Nikki, please.” She begged desperately.

Beths words tipped me over the edge & I buried my face in her neck as came, slowing down my pace before collapsing in a pile on the bed next to her.

“Fuck.” I whispered, letting out a low, sultry laugh.

*Beths POV*

“Yep.” I agreed, giggling. Fuck was the only word that seemed appropriate right now. My whole body felt like it was vibrating, still throbbing from my orgasm. I wriggled up next to Nikki, resting my head on his shoulder, resigning myself to the knowledge that my legs were basically useless at this point & I’d just have to call in sick again for my evening shift.

Nikki whole body stiffened at my touch before relaxing fractionally, long enough to wrap his arm around my waist, but I could sense his discomfort.

“You.. ok, Sixx?” I asked, dragging the question out a little as I propped myself up to look at him.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He shifted, his eyes refusing to meet mine.

I felt a knot form in my stomach as the awkwardness grew in the air. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I joked, half-serious.

“No, it not that doll. That was, uh, well, that was fucking phenomenal.” He laughed nervously, running his hands through his hair.

“So.. What is it?” I questioned, feeling suddenly self-conscious as I pulled the bed cover over me to hide my body.

His eyes drifted down to his arm around my waist. “I’m just, um, I’m don’t really do the whole cuddling thing after, yanno?”

I scoffed at him, shaking my head. “Christ Nikki.”

“I’m sorry!” He said, immediately jumping to his own defensive. “You know I’m not that kinda guy!”

“Nik, I put my goddamn head on your shoulder, I wasn’t asking you to commit!”

“Look, the whole thing just makes me, I don’t know, uncomfortable I guess!” He blurted out sheepishly.

I let out a short, unamused laugh. “And kicking someone out of my bed before they’ve had chance to catch their breath makes me uncomfortable, so looks like we’re both fucked here.” I snapped.

“Lizzy, c’mon, you knew what this was, you’ve always known!” Nikki looked exasperated. “You’ve seen it happen with plenty of other girls, nothing has changed.” He said sharply, climbing out of my bed & pulling on his pants.

They shouldn’t have, but his words stung.

Fuck.

“Christ Sixx. I didn’t think I was special, but I thought after everything that maybe you cared about me a little more than all your other groupies.” I spat, tears involuntarily springing to my eyes. I furiously tried to blink them away.

“I - I care about you Beth, but no. This was what it was, you should’ve known.” He shook his head, still refusing to catch my eye as he gathered up his clothes & got dressed.

I shook my head, letting an ironic laugh escape me. “Who’d have thought Vince would’ve treated me better than you. And to think I fucking hurt him for this.” I gestured towards Nikki & the bed, shaking my head pitifully. “Thanks a lot Nikki.”

His head spun to face me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Don’t fucking blame me for what happened with you two. No-one forced you to go off with me! You made that decision on your own Princess.”

“I went off with you because I thought I was going off with more than just one mediocre fuck!” I yelled bitterly. “What happened to wanting to be the only one that has me? What happened to ‘tell me who you belong to’ just 10 fucking minutes ago?!”

“Shit Lizzy, I say shit when I’m fucking horny. What did you expect? I was just gonna settle down with you because I’ve been chasing you? That’s the whole goddamn point, its the thrill of the chase &, well..”

Tears pricked in my eyes once again & I didn’t bother to hide them this time.

“Just get out Sixx.” I ordered, bluntly.

“Princess, look, I like you, I do, but I don’t want anything more than this, I figured you knew that. I’m sorry if I confused you, I like what we had gong before, can we just go back to that?” Nikki asked softly, reaching for my hand.

“Get out of here Nikki, now!” I yelled, hot, humilIted years spilling down my cheeks as I climbed out of bed & strode towards Nikki, pushing him out of the door & slamming it shut behind him. I sunk to the floor, my bare back against the cold wood of the door as I listened to Nikki sigh heavily on the other side, before walking down the hallway, opening the front door & closing it behind him.

I listened as the latch caught once again. I sure as hell wasn’t gonna chase him this time.

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fuwafuwamedb · 4 years

Text

A Cursed G Pt 12 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh)

Previous Part: One - Haku POV / Gil POV, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven

_____

Morning.

Well, no. It was most likely late morning or early afternoon, but that was alright.

A yawn dragged her from a bit of the drowsiness. Her eyes opened to see the curtains parted and the sun rising higher and higher into the skies outside. It seemed to be another peaceful day in her neighborhood, another day in which she would be able to relax and rest up for the upcoming week.

Next month, she would have to try harder to remain awake for Gilgamesh.

He must have been a little put out when she’d fallen asleep so quickly. Not that they’d been doing anything worthwhile, but she’d ended up spending a good portion of the night with her lips sealed to his and…

The room felt much warmer and her body was reacting quite differently with the memory in mind. She squirmed a bit, pressing her hand to her lips quietly.

Thank god, Gilgamesh wasn’t in the room at the moment.

She’d had him become a human being once again and the only thing she could end up doing with the man was letting him press her to her couch and remain in a lip-locked position with her. They’d started basically breathing whatever air came from the other’s lungs. He’d shoved his tongue into her mouth and she’d found that there was nothing she’d rather do than keep him there.

Damn.

She’d been such an idiot.

The goal was to get him home. She needed to get him back to Uruk so she could continue her life without a cat that went werehuman and turned into a human during that oh so special time of the month.

That meant that she really didn’t need to be kissing up on him and building more and more of a relationship with him that she could never persist.

Her eyes drifted to the window again, looking out at the houses across the street. Modern houses: they bore shingles and paneling and all manners of modern day materials. Where Gilgamesh came from… well, she wasn’t sure what kind of homes he had in his kingdom.

They could have been made with little bricks like the pyramids, but he had come before the pyramids, hadn’t he?

Maybe?

Who knew. Maybe he was actually not accustomed to a house that wasn’t made of sticks and mud.

No, they must have used something more.

Hakuno rolled onto her back, staring up at her ceiling.

Her home really wasn’t impressive in any realm of mind, but it had air conditioning and it had heating. Those two things alone made it far more impressive than any of the buildings in Gilgamesh’s time.

Truly, the poorest of homes in this time would beat most of the places in the past. There was a level of safety and advancements that were in this time that would far outmeasure anything from back then, right?

Then again, ancient times had held much more valuables in homes. She’d seen some of the artifacts from Sumer in her books.

Headdresses and stuff; they’d been tacky and bulky, but they’d been made of pure gold and with gems. The people back then…

All she could do was sigh and press an arm over her face.

Asking Gilgamesh about the past would be a waste of time since she would be using time that he needed for resolving his curse and returning to Uruk. It may make him think they were trying to bond and she’d already crossed a line with kissing him last night.

She’d gotten caught up in the emotions of the moment and how close the man had been and allowed herself to be swept up in wrapping her arms around him.

Next time she’d be better.

Next time, she’d have a plan and she would know a few ways they could test him becoming human again. He’d said that Ishtar was known for changing people.

Well, first things first- she’d look into Ishtar.

There’d be something about it on the internet probably. Maybe there was a freak cult she could consult on a purely “curious” manner just to learn more.

Yes!

Gilgamesh would be human permanently soon.

Sitting up, Hakuno found herself pausing.

This nightgown was one she had gotten on a whim a few months back…

Had Gilgamesh changed her after she’d gone to bed?

Of course he had.

She was going to find the most mundane cat food she still had sitting around the house and feed him that this morning. No human eggs or turkey for-

A rush of water stopped.

It took a second to recognize that the shower had even been on all that time. She could hear footsteps as someone moved around in the other room. A cabinet was opened and closed again, making her pull her sheets around herself and look around.

Gilgamesh.

Weapon.

Door.

She’d call the police when she was safely in the car. They would be able to come and arrest the sick bastard taking a shower in her bathroom after changing her into basically lingerie.

She shifted, noting there weren’t undergarments.

If Gil said this guy touched her, she’d press charges.

“Gil?”

Hakuno hissed his name, moving quietly from the bed.

“Gil?”

The cat must have been near the door in the other room. Maybe down the hall?

She was late feeding him. There was a chance…

The bathroom door opened.

Hakuno, finding herself about halfway to the door to the hallway, found her way blocked by the door opening.

Her eyes met a pair of crimson eyes. A tall, lovingly muscled body with red tattoos met her gaze. Her eyes traveled up, noting small golden hairs on his chest and chin.

H-h-how…

The pounding in her chest was quickening. Her mind was revolving over the sight of the man standing before her.

His lips turned upwards, the flash of a smile forming on his face as he saw her.

“Hakuno.”

There was no way that this was real. She had to be dreaming right now. That meant that she was having one of those odd lucid dreams for once.

Yes, that made much more sense. She was wearing lingerie because she’d been making out with Gilgamesh last night and that had led her mind down into depravity. Her poor soul itself was suffering. What’s more, her mind was outdoing itself with the vision of Gilgamesh naked and in all of his glory.

No halfways with this dream. Her mind had taken one look at the man and said, ‘this man needs to be naked’.

It was impossible for Gilgamesh to be here though.

Entirely impossible.

Still, that wasn’t stopping him from looming over her, his hand outstretched.

“Good morning.”

He was so damn proud of saying that to her. The grin on his face said that he’d no doubt been preparing to say it all this time.

It was highly ‘Gilgamesh-esque’ of her dream to conjure up.

So, naturally, she laughed.

Nothing about this was real and she’d be waking up to find this man sleeping against her chest as a cat so there wasn’t really any harm in laughing right now. She could feel her chest hurting a bit from the laughter, her dream apparently just that lucid for this.

“Is something funny?”

“Sorry,” she wheezed, almost wondering why she was bothering to apologize to a dream Gil. Her eyes flickered up to his once more, her mind running through the options.

Gilgamesh was really something else.

She’d read that he was handsome in her books. What few books even made note of the vanishing king had all described him as some ravishing man that would seduce the most unmovable of people.

He was right there.

Her hand slipped into his, her laughter dying down now. Even as he helped her to his feet, he seemed to be waiting for her to explain why she’d been laughing before.

Instead, she wrapped her arms up around his neck and shoulders.

He leaned in.

Kissing him in this dream was just as satisfying as kissing him last night. That was probably because she was imagining the same endorphins and adrenaline rush. She could feel him lift her up in his arms, carrying her over to the bed and setting her back against the sheets. His hand was slipping up her nightgown, his lips trailed along from her lips to her neck.

“Your explanation is still wanted, but we will get to that later. You have managed to break Ishtar’s curse, after all. I am… indulgent.”

Her fingers delved into those golden locks of hair of his. Her eyes closed as she felt him sliding her closer to him. His mouth returned to hers. A moan left her lips. Then-

A vibration tore her away from the whole thing. Hakuno stared over at the nightstand a moment, wondering absently why any subconscious would be so cruel.

A phone call? During sex?

“Ignore it,” the man told her.

It could be important though…

Deep psyche messages that tell her good advice or something…

Hakuno pulled away, reaching out and pulling the phone into hand. She frowned as she heard Rin and Cu Chulainn bickering in the background.

“Hakuno,” Rani was on the line. “Cu and Rin both forgot the homework for their class with you. Do you remember the assignment?”

…

Well, her subconscious was unoriginal.

“Hakuno?”

“Give me a second to get up.” Maybe the meaning was in the assignment in her planner. Hakuno pulled herself to her feet, leaning over the bed a moment to press her lips to Gilgamesh’s own before heading for the living room.

She frowned at the cold flooring.

In fact, she frowned more as she recited the math homework for Rani.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, Rani?”

“Yes.”

“What day is it?”

The other end of the line went quiet a moment before she could hear the woman laugh quietly. “Did you stay up late or something? You, Cu Chulainn, and Emiya are going to end up in trouble at the rate you all go. It’s Saturday afternoon. We did message you about this study group, but you said you didn’t want to come, remember?”

“Right.”

When the hell had she said that?

Rani hung up, leaving her to scroll to her messages and pause.

She’d told them this morning that she wouldn’t be going…

But she was in bed.

She was asleep right now and right now it was…

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh was coming out of her room now, one of her towels wrapped nicely around his waist. “We need to procure me clothing. I don’t know how your seamstresses work, but bring one to this place and let’s be done with it. Once I have modern attire, we can focus on the second part of this curse: returning us to Uruk.”

“…You’re actually human.”

The man paused, staring at her.

“You’re here.”

The blank look morphed and changed, letting more and more pride and arrogance seem into that face. He moved through the hallway into the living room. He pulled her up into his arms and he simply leaned in close to kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her.

Real.

A part of her felt like it had feared this being real, but it had just been too perfect. No cliché battles and tear stained faces, no evil witches coming along as classmates or suitors, no evil goddess vet coming to snip his balls-

“I am very human,” Gilgamesh assured her, proud as could be about saying that.

“You’re human…”

“And we were doing something before you allowed those fools to steal your reward from you.”

Reward?

Had she been receiving-

They were heading for her bedroom. She could see the intent the moment they began to head through the hallway and her bedroom doorframe started to pass her.

This man was intending to reward her with sex.

FUCK!

“No! No! No! No! NO!”

Hakuno grabbed the doorframe, holding tight as the man tried to get her into the room.

She could see the headlines now: Lone woman turns her cat into a human and ends up becoming a baby factory. Lone woman is arrested for having sex with ancient man, ends up killing him when he dies of freak heart attack.

“Gilgamesh! Put me down!”

There was no telling how much his body could take.

She wouldn’t be responsible for this.

“Hakuno, you’re testing my patience. Do not forget that you initiated this.” Those red eyes locked with hers. “You were the one to kiss me.”

#drabble #drabbles

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

Text

Psycho Analysis: Ego

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Years ago, comic book movies were absolutely, totally afraid to be even a little weird. Raimi carried the weirdness torch for a while thanks to the success of the Spider-Man trilogy, but for some reason he was the only person unafraid to be goofy; even Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, a movie about one of the more fun and campy classical hero teams, was completely and utterly afraid to show a big man in purple armor who eats planets and so instead opted to show us an intergalactic fart cloud. The precedent set by franchises like Blade, X-Men, and Nolan’s Batman films lingered for a long time.

Then along came James Gunn.

Gunn is a man unafraid to be weird, and Guardians of the Galaxy really changed the game in 2014. There’s a gun-toting raccoon, a talking tree, a bald blue cyborg woman, and an alcoholic duck, and the movie is a smash hit critically and financially; there is now no excuse not to put the wierdest stuff from the comics faithfully into film. And for the sequel, Gunn apparently saw fit to bring in one of Marvel’s most bonkers bad guys: Ego, the Living Planet.

Ego is the perfect example of how to adapt something utterly bizarre from the comics, changing some major elements while still staying true to the nature of the character himself. Ego here is Peter Quill’s father, something that isn’t true in the comics, as well as a Celestial, something also not true in the comics… but he is still a sentient planet, and he is still completely and utterly evil.

Actor: Kurt Russell, 80s superstar and the reason Solid Snake exists, plays Ego to perfection. Ego is a character with, well, an ego; he’s selfish, self-centered, and lacking in empathy, but he also needs to come off as charming and friendly or we the audience would see through him immediately. Russell is the exact perfect man for that job; this is a guy who managed to play a character who was mildly transphobic and still have them come off as likable. Russell is also able to switch from affable and charming to scary and furious with ease, which is a big help after the reveal when Ego drops all pretense. Russell just kills it, there’s no other way to put it.

Motivation/Goals: Ego has an almost sympathetic goal, one that, from a certain point of view, makes him come off as a bit sympathetic. The guy was drifting alone in the void for eons and had to piece himself together, so is it any wonder he was horrifically lonely when he was finally able to set out to find life? Of course, that loneliness and isolation led to him developing some really nasty personality traits, and so he decided the best course of action after finding out other intelligent life was “boring” was to plant seeds on every planet, sire a child with powers just like him, and then wipe out all life and turn all the planets in the universe into extensions of himself. It is a plan truly befitting a character with the name “Ego,” and while it is true his motivation is at least a little deserving of sympathy, his goals and how he goes about trying to ameliorate his pain is what makes Ego an irredeemable monster.

Personality: Ego is perhaps one of the most aptly named characters in all of fiction, and he’s also one of the few characters one could make the honest claim that his ego is literally the size of a planet. Ego puts forth this identity of a charming, fatherly figure, happy, affable, jokey… just really sweet and charming. But much like the avatar he uses, it’s all just a mask.

Look at how he talks about what he did to Peter’s mom; he says it with such a wistful, resigned melancholy flavored with this “I did what I had to do” smugness that is a twisted reflection of how one might recall their first date, and then follows it up with a horrifically callous response of “I know that sounds bad.” Ego is such a monstrous, unrepentant sociopath with so little regard for life that is beneath his lofty stature that I just don’t think he really comprehends things like empathy. He is the ultimate psychopathic manchild, an arrogant egotist who hides behind this friendly veneer until the moment things don’t go the way he wants, at which point he starts screaming, ranting, and raving. The fact he is completely and utterly taken aback that Peter would unload multiple shots into him after being told Ego gave his mother a brain tumor is really telling of just what kind of person he really is.

Final Fate: The bomb Groot planted on Ego’s brain goes off, and Ego’s avatar crumbles to dust as the planet begins to blow up, seeing as its brain just got obliterated. The beautiful karma of this moment makes it extra delicious; after putting that tumor on Meredith Quill’s brain, is it not fitting he die after having something planted on his brain?

Best Scene: Ego just really dominates every scene he’s in, but I think the big reveal, where he shows just what a sick and depraved villain with a lack of care for life as he reveals what he did to Meredith Quill, is one of the MCU’s finest scenes.

Best Quote: It took only one single line to cement Ego as the most horrible, evil, disgusting monster in the MCU: “It broke my heart to put that tumor in her head.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Ego is fantastic on so many levels, but one level I think should not be overlooked is on a meta level. As I mentioned, for the longest time silliness and weird concepts were out the door when it came to superhero films. One needs only look at the X-Men franchise to see how dour things were, with their dull black costumes and overwhelmingly miserable and unfun atmospheres. More lighthearted or sillier fare did not go over well, as Iron Man 2 and Green Lantern can attest, and magic was totally absent for a while in the MCU probably because of fears audiences wouldn’t take it seriously. But James Gunn changed all that, and I think Ego definitely played a huge role in cementing that audiences will embrace and love in the weirdest stuff out of comics. Thanks to Ego, I think a lot of other creators became unafraid to let that freak flag fly and put things in movies they might have been too worried to put in before, with the ultimate and best example being Mister Mind joining the DCEU in the end of Shazam! It gives me hope that Tawky Tawny might show up there in a sequel.

On a character level, Ego is without a doubt the most punchable scumbag in the entire MCU, with only Mysterio coming close. The fact he casually admits to killing Peter’s mother and expects him to be okay with it… Can you really blame Peter for immediately unloading his guns into his father? I mean, when faced with a man who is utterly unrepentant in killing a loved one that they also claimed they loved and says they had to do it to further their goals, would you not also have a knee-jerk reaction like that? Yes, I am getting at this being a canon moment that shows Peter’s reaction to Thanos in Infinity War was not a stupid moment, it was a moment that was built up by what he did to Ego. And I think that just adds to Ego even more, because he helped cement a character trait of Peter’s that would lead to one of the most horrific gut punches in cinematic history.

Ego is an easy 10/10, and is one of the MCU’s greatest villains. He’s a perfect “love to hate” character, and he’s also a perfect villain for a story about family. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 has family as a focal point of the story, with the arcs of every single character revolving around the idea that family doesn’t have to be blood ties, it can be with the people who love you and who you’ve bonded with the most. Yondu’s line of “He may’ve been your father, boy, but he wasn’t your daddy” is what really sells it, honestly; Ego is Peter’s biological father, yes, but Yondu raised him and even if he didn’t always do right by him, in the end he showed himself to be a better man and better dad than Ego ever could have hoped to be. I suppose that’s a bit off topic from Ego himself, but I feel like it’s important to note just how deeply thematic he is as a villain, tying into the core message of the story while also letting loose in utter sociopathic villainy.

I think there is a great irony in Ego’s ultimate plan; for all his claims of being lonely and desiring others like him, what exactly does he think would happen if the entire universe was nothing but himself? Would he truly have been satisfied? Perhaps; he was a narcissistic to the highest degree for sure. But I like that there is some ambiguity to things about Ego, I like how there are some things to think about, I like how a villain who has a plan that is not clearly thought out by them yet that they believe is the proper course of action is something of a setup for what Thanos would be.

And really, out of every other villain in the MCU, Ego is most like Thanos. The obvious part is the plan, though only Endgame Thanos really wanted to reshape the universe in his image; still, as I mentioned, their plans are both something they believe is the true and righteous course of action, though Thanos is far more sympathetic in this regard. They also both felt the need to sacrifice loved ones in pursuit of their goals, and they both have incredibly poor relationships with some of their kids. I think the main difference is that Thanos, for all his faults, does have some empathy, he does have some sympathetic traits even if they don’t redeem how much of an awful person he was. Ego has none of that. Ego squanders any sympathy he could have gained by being utterly unrepentant and casual about his misdeeds, which include slaughtering his other children and killing Peter’s mother despite claiming to have loved her dearly. At least Thanos openly wept at what he did to Gamora, at least he felt sadness, guilt, and regret. Ego just doesn’t care. He did it because whatever he really felt for Meredith, there was only one person he could ever truly love: Himself.

In short, Yondu was right: that guy was a jackass.

#Psycho Analysis #Ego #Guardians of the Galaxy #Marvel #MCU

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greeneyedsuccubunny · 6 years

Text

The Art of Seduction 101

Summary: Natasha needs (y/n)'s help to seduce a mark on one of her mission's however (y/n) is confident she's the worst at seduction. So Natasha has decided to do a practice run before the big day with our one and only Winter Boo Bear. Will she make the grade? Warnings: Fluffy fluffy goodness. Major feels?

A.N. If enough people ask I will do a Part 2. Also if anyone would like to be tagged just ask. I love ya’ll.

"No fucking way!" You practically shouted at Natasha who was grinning evilly at you. "Yes fucking way perhaps literally if I teach you well enough....or if I can get you to tap into what's already there buried just underneath the surface." Natasha mused with a pensive look on her face giving a quick wink to you at her double meaning. "What the hell are you talking about Nat?" You sigh placing your index finger and thumb on the bridge of your nose pinching slightly to alleviate the pressure you knew was bound to become a migraine soon.

"Well I could teach...." Natasha began but you had too many things going on in your mind right now and you found your mind beginning to wander. It had been like this all morning Natasha had the brilliant idea of using you to seduce the mark in both her and Bucky's undercover operation. She had no other option it would seem considering the mark was one Sr. Antoine Alverez a drug cartel lord and all around scum bag known for trafficking in young women on the side for fun. He was known to be able to spot a lie a mile away so Nat knew she would need someone very skilled at lying. Someone like say another Avenger someone who is her best friend and owes her a favor for spilling red wine on her carpet. Someone like you. You had been going back and forth on this subject she was trying her very best speeches as well as her cute little puppy dog expressions to convince you to help her out. Apparently not only were you a skilled liar but your body and looks were very attuned to Sr. Alvarez's specifications, he had a type. With your luxurious (y/h/c) locks and stunning (y/s/c) skin not to mention your beautiful figure type was what he craved. You didn't mind at all helping her out on this if it was anything other than seducing someone. When you had joined the Avengers it had been under the assumption that you would be the agent behind the scenes using your mutant abilities only when it was deemed necessary. You hadn't ever thought they would ask you to seduce someone because the God's honest truth was you just didn't know how. You saw yourself as the quirky chick the one always with a funny joke not a sexual being that had men fall at your feet, that was Nat's job. You had definitely had sex before and you were quite good at it it's just you weren't the smolder type you were the type who if things got to tense would throw on a Borat impression call it 'the sexy time' saying 'I like' to reduce the awkardness. Long story short you weren't cut out for this shit. You remembered when Natasha had told you that you were exactly the type of girl that Alvarez wanted. Your reaction had been less than stellar when you mumbled out, "Oh freaking fantastic. Just what I need the one man in the world who truly wants me and he is a sick depraved bastard....thanks mom for the winning genes... you're a real peach." In truth, the only man that you did want was the guy you never thought even looked your way once. The beautiful man with Chestnut waves and ocean blue eyes that were so haunted and made your heart speed up fast and run slow at the same time. The man who could make the world feel like it is staying in place when he chuckled at your jokes which is why you sprinkled in extra quips when he was around. You thought if you could lighten up the load on this man's burdened shoulders if you could make his life a little better for even a split second then that's what you were going to do. Who is the man in question? That man is the one, the only, James Buchanaan Barnes. Though it seemed as if Bucky was maybe starting to warm up to you a little lately. Not that you would really notice if you didn't have a major crush on him. Bucky would try and skirt away from you every time you spent for than 10 minutes with him. You wanted to go so far as to tell him that you swear you didn't have cooties....and then you most definitely wanted to proceed that with licking his face, body, and di-...... "Snap out of it (y/l/n). You were daydreaming again." Natasha said while smirking at you. You knew she knew what and most likely who you were daydreaming about. "I'm sorry babe forgive me please repeat yourself and do go slow. My brain is turning into mush at the prospect of me having to keep my ass upright in hooker heels, while trying to pull off any assemblance of something resembling sex appeal." You pout trying to keep the nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach from showing up on your face. "I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by you brain fucking Barnes. I could teach you how to be sexy and seduce. Believe me when I tell you a monkey could do it. You know that was most of what I did when I got out of the Red Room. Your hot babe I swear you can do this and I really need your help think of all the girls that you would be helping if you put this monster behind bars." Natasha explained in a cool demeanor while smirking at your blushing expression when she mentioned Bucky. "That is so not fair! I hate that your right.....What do I need to do?" You ask begrudgingly.

“Y-y-yeah. Nat." You swallow the large lump in your throat nervously. You begin patting down the curls on your head gently while smoothing out the flattering (y/f/c) dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. Natasha had picked out just the right pair of wedges after you had stumbled and fallen like a baby deer trying to stand up on it's own after being birthed. Apparently the heels women usually wore for this kinda thing were not your cup of tea after having almost broken your ankle in every pair Natasha forced you to try on. "I-I can’t do this. It-It’s not a good idea. You do sexy y-you not me I got the whole 'can control mother nature thing' down ya know?!” You stammer out while violently punctuating the air with your finger quotes. Natasha just stares at you blankly while you have a mild panic attack. "I don't got this! I repeat I don't got this!!!" You exclaim loudly while trying to steady your breathing that's when Natasha finally spoke up. "Y/n you are sexy I swear! I know Bucky he's a nice guy he would never do anything to make you feel bad about yourself. He is the perfect man to try out the seduction on he's agreed to help me fine tune you. If I do say so myself he was quite eager. He slapped Sam in the head and punched Steve in the shoulder while death glaring Tony with his Winter Smolder to get them to put their hands down when I asked who wanted to volunteer to see if (y/n) could seduce them." Natasha reassured you with her speech while quirking her eyebrow at your nervous antics. "He was probably just trying to be nice because he feels bad about thinking I have cooties." You mumble out in a defeated tone. "What?" Natasha questioned with a tick of her eyebrow confused by what you had said thinking she had to have heard you wrong. "Nothing. Never Mind. Just go back out there and get Steve I can't do this with Bucky." You answer quickly making a sweeping motion with your hands to indicate to get Bucky to go away. Silently praying anyone else in the world was out there for you to practice on. "Yeah--- about that (y/n) I kinda sent everyone else on their way out of the tower so you wouldn't feel so stressed when you seducded Barnes... I really didn't think you would mind this much I thought you might enjoy it in fact." Natasha proclaimed with a wince when she saw the terrified expression on your face. "Oh God, Natasha I am the freak with a bad complexion and extra wobbly bits! There is no way he is going to fall for me especially when he has seen you, and oh ya know, any girl in this damn building!" You whisper shout at Natasha trying to breathe deeply and evenly so you didn't pass out. "Barnes already has a thing for you I am sure of it." Natasha chirped out trying to keep you upbeat and positive about the situation at hand. "No he doesn’t! Stop lying to me." You snap at Natasha who quickly comes over to you squatting down and putting her hand on your cheeks. "(Y/n) look at me." Natasha prompted, causing you to look up at Natasha who had a soothing smile on her face. "Baby girl you're beautiful, you're timeless. I wouldn't have volunteered you for this if I didn't believe a 100% in my soul that you couldn't do this. Hell I would have you seduce me but I am already biased I would definitely sleep with you." Natasha winked at you and nudged you in the ribs gently with her elbow. "Really you would sleep with me? You queried with a soft chuckle trying to use a little comedy to lighten up the dread settling over you. "I most definitely would love bug. Now get out there and give him a trouser tent! Remember the lesson I taught you swing your hips, flip your hair out of your eyes, cock a side smile and sexy smirk. Really, you've mastered those moves already and those are all you need to know." She stated matter-of-factly. "Is this one of those this is who we are, this is what we do, and this is what you need to know Simba moments? If so I think I have a little red lipstick and it's not too late to draw a little mark on my forehead." You giggle at the serious expression changing to one of amusement on Nat's face as you're beginning to lighten the mood you had caused due to your self deprecation. "I mean what do you say you could probably lift me up you're really quite strong. After we could practice for Dirty Dancing?" You quip as Natasha shakes her head, her red curls shaking with her laughter. "You know what we could try it as soon as you show me what you can do out there. It's show time Baby Girl!" Natasha exclaims excitedly fluffing your hair correcting the little slip up of red lipstick on the corner of your lips and pushing you with a firm shove out the door and into the Break room.

Bucky Barnes was a picture of perfection and calmness sitting in the break room. At least he appeared that way thanks to his Winter Solider days. He found it easier to school his emotions because of the programming that Hydra had done. The malicious trigger words were out of his brain now but some of the aspects of his training like his control still stayed with him.

Little did you know but Bucky was a trillion times more of a nervous wreck than you were at the moment. Sitting and waiting for you to 'make his day' as Natasha had put it. He was still a little hazy on the details except that it involved you and anything that involved you and or helped you he wanted to be a part of. If he was honest with himself he'd do anything for you, with you.....and to you. This feeling inside of his heart wasn't anything he was familiar with. Sure he had been with quite a few women in fact he had been quite the ladies man in his day. Those women were the cat and mouse kind of women though. He was always the one being pursued for a relationship that he never wanted in the end... but not this time. This time he wanted the woman more than anything he'd ever wished for in his entire life. He tried to talk to Steve about it and after recounting the way he felt he came up with a few points to talk about to Steve like the fact that his stomach would try to wiggle away from him when he saw you smile or how his heart pounded out it's own unique rhythm every time he heard her laugh. His best friend had concluded with a wide smile and a hearty chuckle that Bucky had major feelings for (y/n). He had explained that what Bucky had described was the exact way he felt when Peggy was around back in the day. Hearing this Bucky put a hand on his favorite punk's shoulder giving him a reassuring smile and telling him that he knew and she would always be with Steve no matter what. Bucky had been running away from (y/n) for as long as he could remember. The thing was when he tried his hardest he could stick it out for about ten minutes before her smile, her smell, hell even her voice made him want to kiss her and caress her beautiful face. Honestly, he was definitely not the best person to see if (y/n) had the seduction chops considering he was already head over heels with (y/n) in the damn first place. She could punch him in the arm while calling him bro and pounding a beer can shotgun style and he wouldn't give a fuck. She was perfect to him with her quick wit, always defusing the situation with a joke. He couldn't even count the number of times that she had single handedly stopped Tony and Steve from coming to blows over some minor problem with a well timed 'that's what she said'. She had told him once that when someone's mind goes to funny sexcapades in an argument it throws off their shitty thoughts for a split second. Enough time to get the tension to lift a bit and that's when you are able to strike and separate the dueling parties according to her, Bucky always listened to her. Damn, this is what the songs on the radio always talked about. Fuck all the songs were starting to make sense now. Did this mean that he.... loved you? Bucky is sitting there waiting and pondering if someone like you could ever love someone like him when out comes (y/n) stumbling from what looks like a push from behind. Quickly gathering her wits and composure she straightens up cocks her hip a little while tugging her lower lip gently between her teeth and cocking her eyebrow slightly. Deep inside she knows she is trying to mirror an old cover photo of Cosmopolitan with Scarlett Johansson on it. She took long languid steps as Nat taught her not looking at Bucky yet because she knew she would definitely see him trying not to laugh at her and that would cause her to run away. She felt like she was playing dress up in her mother's clothes but she had to do this for not only Natasha but herself she was gonna prove to herself she could do this. So without further ado she looked up and the look on Bucky's face confused you more than you could even express. Wait a minute. What was that expression? Was it.......................... A.N. I am the Queen of cliffhangers my friend's. I love you guys I had a day off of work so I decided to write a little something. If I get enough asks I will do a part 2 . So to see what the damn expression on Bucky's face is just ask Mwah!

@prettyyoungtragedy @champion-ofthe-☀️ @dragoste-lunes@theinsomniacsblog @thiccmillions @jumpingmanatee@markusstraya@inumorph @groovytyphoonbouqett @nat-1-2@maggyme13@feelmyroarrrr@frenchfrostpudding @geeksareunique@wanna-see-my-lease @frozen540 @mummy-woves-you

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #Steve Rogers #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #nervous #seduction #marvel imagine #marvelimagine #The Avengers #avengers x reader #avengersimagine #avenger imagines #fluff

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b1mbodoll · 10 months

Note

omg!!!!! the seeun + yunjin dranble ^○^ mind is so empty they were so perfect <3 thank you for writing them u literally r so insanely talented (and so so cool i am such a big fan! read: kiss me on the mouth) 😵‍💫 also omg the ghostface thoughts????? so insane i actually started loosing my mind ^^

just imagine ghostface!siblings jakehoon who have been watching you, their adorable little neighbor from their window when you dress yourself and strip at night (￣^￣)ゞ n when they get the idea to get in your pants finally, they cant stop calling you and telling you to touch yourself over the phone with your room lights on so they can see and hear you :( and later when they decide to sneak in your house (while your parents are there!!!!!!!) and fuck u silly in your childhood bed saying it would be such a shame not to make you a mommy 🎀🎀🎀 n telling you how cute u would look with cum all over u! and all u can do is take it while you beg them to stop (but your body is saying something different!!!)

love 🎀 anonie!

pairings: jake sim + park sunghoon x f! reader

warnings: noncon + stalking + voyeurism + ghostface! stepbrothers! jakehoon + neighbor! reader + exhibitionism + pregnancy + virgin! reader + manipulation + gaslighting + oral + mention of hymen breaking + dacryphilia + lactation + objectification

💌: im soso glad u liked them <3 i literally Have to smooch u bc u r just the sweetest ever n ur lil msgs make me smile sm bc i nvr thought my silly lil writing was good enough to deserve ur kind words??? we r bffs now i hope u know this

stepbros! jakehoon being so sick n depraved they get off on scaring you into putting on a lil show for them. tell you to keep ur blinds open n lamp on while you touch yourself for them <3 tell u that if you dont put ur phone up to ur cunt so they can hear, that theyre gonna break in n touch your pussy themselves. ghostface! jake is the sweeter of the two, calls you pretty while ur knuckles deep in your cunt n tells you that ur bein’ such a good girl, promises to reward you when they get the courage to break in. ghostface! hoon is a fucking sadist. his dick hardens at the mere thought of pushing past your hymen n breaking it, wonders if you’ll cry from the pain or not even bother wasting ur tears bc you know worse things r coming.

they follow you around while ur running errands and then later that night, call you up n explain in great detail how you looked n what you did today ^^ hoon can’t help it n starts calling you all sorts of mean names bc how could you not realize they were following you? “you’re nothing but a dumb fucking bimbo made for us to toy with, understand? can’t believe you’re so clueless you didn’t see us,” he taunts, “or did you? maybe you saw us ‘nd didnt say a word cus you want us just as bad as we want you, yeah?” you shake your head at his words, phone almost slipping from your grasp while he continues to mock you. “no! i didn’t see you ‘nd i don’t want this please jus’ leave me alone!” you’re so frustrated. for weeks they’ve been insisting you’re a freak that wants to get dicked down by ur stalkers and you’re starting to believe it.

jake and sunghoon break into your house sometimes when ur in the shower. they lay in your bed and jerk their cocks together, cum making a mess of your pillows. steal some dirty panties too bc they r so desperate for your pussy n when they get back to their house the boys sniff ur panties like dogs ^^

they stop calling for a couple of weeks n let you think ur finally free from their torment, but when you find yourself impaled on sunghoon’s cock as jake slaps his dick on ur cheeks before sliding down your throat, you start sobbing bc how could you be so stupid as to think they’d seriously leave you alone? you belong to them whether you know it or not and they show you. make you suck them off at the same time n the brothers do their best to cover ur entire face with cum <3 wna make you completely unrecognizable by painting ur face with it n it makes you clench ur thighs bc the fact that they wna keep u for themselves must mean they’re in love with you.

the first time sunghoon fucks your pussy he instantly becomes obsessed. shoots his load deep inside when your hymen breaks bc the feeling made you cum first, pussy leaving a ring of cum n blood around his thick cock. the two of them are infatuated with your pussy ‘nd fill you up with load after load of cum even if your parents are home. jake’s fixation on your innocence is so sick, makes you cuddle one of ur childhood plushies as his dick rearranges your insides <3 likes when you bite them to keep quiet too

ghostface! jakehoon r also into the idea of getting u pregnant. tell you theyre gonna ruin your “mommycunt” n milk your tits like a cow bc ur nothing more than a breeding bitch to them

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icypantherwrites · 6 years

Text

Fundraiser Fic List and Statistics

I would like to thank everyone once more for their support of my friend and special shoutouts and love to the individuals who purchased fanfiction commissions from me through my fundraiser and helped me raise over $300 that went straight to my friend. Thank you!

I have officially finished all of the purchased fundraiser commissions so thought it’d be fun to do a little by the numbers post along with links to all of the fics. For the record I am now taking fic commissions due to the furthered interest (you guys ♥) and you can find details here if you want to commission your own.

The full fic list will be below the keep reading tab as it got a little long. ^^; All right. Here we go.

Total number of fics: 13

Total number of words written: 95,713

Start date of first published fic: March 11, 2018

Finish date of thirteenth published fic: April 10, 2018

Longest fic: So Much to Offer* (10,361 words)

Shortest fic: Poison (2,876 words)

Lance as main/second main character: 13/13 (yup ;p)

Hunk appearances as main/second main: 5/13

Pidge appearances as main/second main: 2/13

Shiro appearances as main/second main: 1/13**

Keith/Coran/Allura appearances as main/second main: 0/13**

*In the Name of Love is technically the longest but that is because I went and added a second chapter. Commissioned wise it is not the longest one.

**I give Keith two third spots though for his roles in Smile and The Price of Peace, Coran one third spot for Smile and Shiro one third spot for Passing Grade. Allura sadly got passed over for all of these cept for a small role in The Price of Peace. So sorry, hun. I love you though ♥

Most Popular Fics -- Top Two

(deigned by a combination of hits, comments, kudos and bookmarks)

1. The runaway winner was The Cost of Winning with 2,601 hits, 37 comment threads, 356 kudos and 78 bookmarks. This one featured Lance and Pidge captured and forced to fight in the arena. Lots of platonic Plance and some BAMF moments for both. (it has a sequel too for the aftermath which would appreciate some love ♥!)

2. The runner-up was Sounds of Darkness with 1,841 hits, 32 comment threads, 282 kudos and 70 bookmarks. More Langst abound featuring sensory deprivation but some soft and warm platonic Shance to make you not want to sob in a corner by the end all while making sure you can hear yourself crying.

Fics that Need More Love -- Bottom Two

(deigned by a combination of hits, comments, kudos and bookmarks)

There is not enough Hunk love in this fandom. Please. Give my ray of sunshine more of it. He deserves all of the happiness... even if both of these involve him in pain. Whoops.

12. Please know that If the World Should Freeze was one of my favorites because it features the best relationship there is in VLD, platonic Hance ♥ The boys find themselves in an icy wasteland with a happy serving of Hunk!whump. Yesss. Rang in with 517 hits, 19 comment threads, 92 kudos and 14 bookmarks.

13. The other Hunk!whump fic of Strength of Your Word rounds out the bottom here.This is another adventure between him and Lance involving some less than savory weasel aliens and a jewel that everyone wants to get their paws, er, hands on. Totaled in at 483 hits, 22 comment threads, 86 kudos and 13 bookmarks.

And that rounds out the stat lines! You can find all thirteen fics below to peruse at your leisure. Please do be sure to leave a comment on them if you read and enjoyed; I really appreciate them ♥ Thank you and enjoy!

Tumblr Poll!

Last thing before you head off. These stats were all compiled via AO3 (which has taken over as my main platform) but I’d love to hear from the Tumblr audience for an informal poll rather than data stats. Which fic of the thirteen was your favorite? Feel free to comment below or send it via an ask! If majority was my favorite fic of the set I’ll do a little something ♥

Fic List

Posted in order of publish date, oldest first.

Poison

Summary: Lance is fine. Or, at least he keeps telling himself that. He’s most definitely not a victim of the unknown disease with no cure sweeping through the city. Nope. But now he’s coughing up blood? Maybe… maybe he isn’t so fine after all. / “H-Hunk,” he whispered. “I… I think I’m s-sick.” Hunk let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Yeah, Lance. You are.“ Alternate universe, Langst

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

The Cost of Winning

This fic will have a sequel follow-up focusing on a recovery arc. Date TBD. Story is complete as is though.

Summary: “The Blue and Green Paladins serve no purpose to the Empire,“ the Galran commander smirked at his bound captives. “And as such you have no use except as arena fodder.” He chuckled. “Give us a good show before you die.” / Lance is determined to protect Pidge and save her from the arena. She will not die here. Over his dead body. Hopefully it’s not quite that literal of a promise.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

In the Name of Love

Summary: Lance just wanted to buy a flower. Instead he's now the newest victim of a serial killer who has no plans to release him until he has served his purpose. Lance may be a Paladin but he's got a higher calling in life now. And it starts with his death. / "Do not try and resist again," his captor warned, "You will not like the consequences." Lance's voice cracked. "Like being eaten?"

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Passing Grade

Summary: If Lance stayed in the shower long enough maybe the water would wash everything away. Maybe it would make him forget unwanted hands and the scratchy couch. Maybe… A sob tore through his throat. No. There was no forgetting. But he did have to paste on a smile and try to because no one could find out. Otherwise it was all over. AU - College

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.Net

xxx

Faces of Home

Summary: There were murmured, familiar voices when Lance awoke that quieted almost immediately when he blinked open his eyes. “Easy, easy,” someone soothed as he tried to sit up. Someone familiar. Lance gasped. “Mamá?” Because somehow… somehow he was home. / Lance is injured in a fight against the Galra and wakes to find himself in the care of his family. But… how did he wind up back on Earth? Something wasn’t quite right…

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Sounds of Darkness

Summary: Lance couldn’t see. Or hear. Or move. The silent darkness was all encompassing and it was pressing in; choking him, drowning him, blinding him. He screamed but it was swallowed whole into the void of nothingness. Lance trembled, pain shaking his limbs, and faintly wondered if he’d even made a sound at all.

Read it on: Ao3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Smile

Summary: Lance glanced at the mirror. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he was remembering. Like, the first glance had freaked him out but it really wasn’t that noticeable. He worried his lip in indecision before finally making his way over to the mirror. He had to know. Just… just a peek. Without further ado Lance gave a tentative smile. And despair crashed down once more.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Nothing to Be Afraid Of

Summary: Hunk will admit it. He’s afraid of many things and being captured by the Galra alongside Lance ranks at the top. But it’s the Galra who should be afraid. After all, they just unleashed a brilliant engineer and a quick-witted sharpshooter in their base. Better watch out. – “Uh, Hunk, what are you doing?” “Making bombs,” Hunk replied cheerfully. “Oh, okay- bombs?” Lance squeaked.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

So Much to Offer

Summary: “I suppose though I should see what we’re working with, hm?” the slaver mused. “A pretty face is only part of the package after all.” His dark eyes met Lance’s and he shivered at the absolute depravity that stared back at him. “Let’s see what you have to offer.” / While trying to save his dying team, Lance is captured and sold into the slave trade. Time is running out… for everyone.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

If the World Should Freeze

Summary: "Lance, st-stop," Hunk moaned, stumbling and splattering crimson upon the snow. "I c-can't…" The rest of his words trailed off as dark spots danced in his vision. "No!" Lance dug his hands into Hunk's vest as though that could keep him upright. "Don't you dare. Keep moving!" / Hunk and Lance are stranded in an icy wasteland but the cold is quickly becoming the least of their problems. Because the huge, hungry creature chasing them? Yeah. They're in trouble.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

The Price of Peace

Summary: (Sequel to The Cost of Winning) They may have escaped the arena but things back home are far from all right. Keith is struggling. Shiro is hiding. Lance is suffering violent flashbacks and she’s having nightmares too. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong. Pidge hates it. She wants her space family back. Not this broken version of them. It looks like she’s just going to have to fix it. And Lance is going to help.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Strength of Your Word

Summary: “Open his mouth,” Hunk heard the order and Lance’s chokes turned to a low moan. “Let’s make him smile nice and red,” came the hiss. And Hunk? He’s had enough. / Lance saves Hunk. Hunk saves Lance. Rinse and repeat. It’s what they do. So when a simple mission turns deadly these two are going to have each other’s backs. No matter the consequences.

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

xxx

Disjointed Soul

Summary: Lance falls victim to a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that is drawn to disjointed souls to steal them for itself. The Paladins must go into Lance’s very soul to save him, uncovering truths about themselves and Lance in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful soul guides.

—

“Hi there baby Lance,” Hunk greeted.

“Ohwah,” Lance burbled back. “¡Ohwah!”

“Ohwah?” Pidge repeated.

“I think he’s saying ”hola,’“ Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello” in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance.“

”¡Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!“

Read it on: AO3 Fanfiction.net

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

Text

Canadian Girl

Epilogue

Master List | Steve Rogers Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC | Word Count: 3338 Warnings: Swearing, Pure FLUFF, stereotyping of Canadians (I'm allowed, I am one) Also, Happy 150th Birthday to Canada!!!

As Kennedy stood anxiously awaiting the test results in her lab, she did the math. Officially she and Steven had been together for six months by her count.

Steven counted from far sooner than she did, going all the way back to the weeks leading up to him kissing her in the kitchen at the lab, but she refused to count that as dating when she’d been so incredibly clueless to the fact of him even liking her in that way.

Returning home to New York after CFR had proved both trying and satisfying.

Trying in that Steven had insisted she move in with him. Trying in that Tony had already seen it done without her say so. Trying in that whenever she turned around, she was having visitors show up in her lab. It was highly frustrating.

Until the day she’d turned to yell at whomever it was who felt it perfectly acceptable to simply walk into her lab without invitation, only to discover the person was Bruce Banner.

Out of all the Avengers, he was the only one she hadn’t met by that point.

Afterward, Steven had teased her endlessly because she’d fangirled a little over meeting Bruce, but he was someone she admired greatly. To find out Bruce also admired her work had been thrilling.

Then, Bucky had casually commented, “Least she knew who he was,” which had shut Steven right up.

The satisfaction came when the newness of it all had settled into a routine. She still got regular visitors, but she’d learned to work around them. Now that she’d broken the secrets of the serum, she’d begun working toward using the parts she could for MS research. Her days were filled with new and exciting discoveries, while her nights were filled with passion and love.

When he wasn’t working, Steven would often show up at her door, dragging her out of her lab when she’d worked too late again. He always made leaving worth her while. The heat and fire of their relationship hadn’t dimmed at all. It seemed only to grow stronger with each passing day. As he’d said, they continued to light each other up.

She’d never felt more loved, more cherished than she did when she was with him.

His love simply… overflowed.

She’d found a second home, a second family, in the Avengers team. They’d made her a part of them, even if she never used her powers. They all knew she could, but no one ever asked or pushed her into anything. For that, she was grateful.

Hydra was still a concern, but with her being practically tower-bound, something she had no issue with, she didn’t worry too much about them. Anytime she wanted to go to the park to clear her mind or stretch her legs, one of the team or a couple of agents went with her. Add to that Natasha’s insistence on teaching her things, and Kennedy was getting regular exercise.

Did she grumble about it? Yes, she did. Did she still go? Yes, she did.

It was Natasha, a woman who, like Wanda, had become a close friend very quickly. Nat wanted her to learn, wanted to teach her, so Kennedy went along with it. Besides, it was kind of fun and the added exercise made up for the excessive amount of poutine they all ate.

It was probably a good thing her family had agreed to the deal offered them by Fury. It made it easier to have coffee, and other Canadian foodstuffs brought back to the tower.

Tim Horton’s coffee was now a mainstay in the Avengers kitchen, Tony enjoying it so much, he was making noise about adding a Tim Hortons location to the ground floor.

Kennedy only shook her head, wondering why she'd ever been afraid of Tony.

The man could be all kinds of ridiculous.

And, when Thor had discovered the all dressed potato chips, well, her entire stash had been depleted in three days.

But today, for the first time in months, Kennedy stood nervously twisting her hands together. She was worried, a little bit scared, and it wasn't a feeling she’d had within these walls in a long time.

Steven had been gone for a week or so, off on a mission with Sam and Wanda. When he was gone, she often spent long hours in the lab, disliking going to bed without him. So it hadn’t really surprised her when she’d come down with the flu.

Not sleeping or eating correctly, it was kind of bound to happen. Except the stomach flu didn’t happen every morning at the same time three days in a row.

When the computer pinged, informing her of her ready test results, Kennedy’s hand shook slightly as she pulled the page from the printer.

Her eyes scanned the results. Her breath hitched softly. “FRI… FRIDAY?” she called out, her lab AI getting a serious upgrade.

“Yes, Kennedy?”

“Where’s… Natasha?”

“Natasha is in the gym at current.”

“Can you tell her I need to see her… right now,” Kennedy gasped out, tears in her eyes, and worry in her heart.

She hadn't planned for this.

***

Sweeping down, Natasha took Bucky’s feet out from under him. “Getting slow, old man,” she snickered.

His arm lashed out, jerking her feet out from under her, so she landed on her back beside him on the mat. “Now who’s slow?”

“Bite me, Barnes,” she quipped, wincing a little.

“Natasha?”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” she said sitting up.

“Kennedy needs to see you right now. It appears to be urgent as she is quite upset.”

Nat and Bucky were both on their feet and moving toward the door at a jog. “Lab?” Nat called out.

“Yes.”

“Steve back yet?” Bucky asked the AI.

“Just. He’s debriefing.”

“Get him,” Bucky barked.

“Bucky, she asked for me,” Nat reminded him.

“Yeah, but she likely doesn’t know he’s back. If something’s wrong, you know she’s gonna want Steve.”

Getting on the elevator, they both headed for the seventh floor.

***

Sitting in the debriefing, Steve wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and go find Kennedy.

The latest mission had been a shit storm. Everyone had gotten out alright, but barely. It had him longing to hold onto the good in his life. To seek comfort in the arms of Kennedy as he’d been doing for months.

Shortly after they'd returned to New York, the news had come in of Carl's confession and subsequent incarceration.

Not a peep had been leaked about his five minutes in interrogation with the man, not one single word. It impressed him enough to have the table replaced as well as a large anonymous donation made to the Edmonton police service for use in whichever charities they deemed worthy.

Kennedy had taken the news in stride, saying only she was happy it hadn't gone to trial. She didn't want to testify, nor have all her past dirty laundry aired. Though she'd looked at him curiously a few times, she'd never once out and out asked what he’d said to Carl.

He would have told her the truth if she had. He figured that was why she hadn't asked.

She had moved on from Carl, from that part of her life. She’d been through so much. Learning to use and control her powers. Her genius brain taking her to university early.

Carl and his depravity.

She was, literally, the strongest woman he'd ever known.

He loved her with everything he was. Heart and soul, they’d belonged to her for months.

When the phone on the table in front of him went off, an update from FRIDAY, he frowned. Listening to Sam and Wanda relate what had gone down, he pulled it toward himself to read better.

The chair slammed into the wall behind him as he shoved to his feet and raced out of the room.

“What the fuck!?” bellowed Sam, nearly leaping from his skin.

“Something’s wrong with Kennedy!” Wanda gasped.

"Go," said Fury. "Keep me apprised."

On the twelfth floor, Steve didn’t bother waiting for the elevator. He slammed through the door to the stairwell at a dead run.

***

Pressing her palm to the plate, Natasha shoved open the door to Kennedy’s lab. “Kenny? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Not looking up, Kennedy held out the paper toward the woman. Breathing out a shaky breath, she pressed her other hand to her mouth.

Frowning, Nat took it, glancing at Bucky. Scanning what were clearly test results, she frowned. “What am I reading?”

“I’m… pregnant.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

Her head whipped up. “Oh god! You brought Bucky!”

“You didn’t say come alone!” Nat shrieked. Darting forward, she grabbed Kennedy up in a tight hug. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know how… Steven and I haven’t talked about kids… it was an accident… but… Nat… I want this,” her breath hitched.

Steve slammed through the door seconds later. “What is it? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“Oops…” Natasha breathed against Kennedy’s ear when the hug turned into a death grip. “It’s Barnes’ fault. He figured you'd want Steve.”

A panicky feeling filled her chest. She almost didn’t want to let go of Nat, but the choice was taken from her when the redhead pulled away. Teary-eyed, she looked to where the big blond, still in his Cap suit, stalked toward her, concern etched across his face. “Steven…”

“Is it your aunt? Did something happen to Joan?” he asked, taking her from Nat. “Do we need to go home?”

Her heart just fell to splat at his feet with how he was concerned for her family. “No, Steven it’s not them.” She pressed shaking hands to the red and white stripes over his abdomen.

He cupped her cheeks. “What is it? You’re kind of freaking me out, Kennedy? Are you sick? Do I need to get Bruce?”

“For fuck sake, punk! Let her talk!” Bucky huffed.

She glanced his way, couldn’t help but see the excitement and joy on his face. She could only hope Steven would feel the same. “Steven… I’m…” She sank her teeth into her lip.

“What, baby? Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together,” he vowed, caressing her cheek as Sam and Wanda came through the door.

“Pregnant,” she whispered. Staring up into his bright blue eyes, she watched as first surprise-filled them, then shock morphed into a joy which had the breath she’d been holding rushing out.

“A baby? We’re having a baby?” he asked, voice full of awe.

She nodded, teeth worrying her lip.

***

Tilting his head back, Steve laughed before he shouted for joy. Wrapping her up tight in his arms, he swung around to face their four friends. “We’re having a baby!”

Sam and Wanda both cheered.

Dropping her carefully to her feet, Steve kissed the breath right out of her. “Wow,” Kennedy said once he let her go.

A stillness overcame him before he was tugging her toward the door, through the congratulations of the others. “Come on, Doc.” He sent a sharp glance Bucky’s way, his friend’s grin wide and filled with understanding as he held everyone back.

“Where are we going?” she asked, jogging a little to keep up.

“Upstairs.” Striding onto the elevator, he called out, “FRIDAY, living quarters. No stops.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Steven?” She still sounded worried.

Turning into her, Steve caged her against the wall. “Kennedy, I love you so much.” Leaning down, he kissed her softly, a gentle brushing of lips which had her sighing and melting into him.

Her arms went around his waist.

His hands went to her face and her hair as he worshiped at her mouth. Nipping and tugging her lip, he kissed and sipped, kept her distracted long enough to arrive on their floor. Drawing her from the elevator, he swept her up, making her gasp in the same way she always did, a pink flush filling her cheeks.

Her arms went around his neck. “Are you… really happy about this? We haven’t exactly talked about kids.”

“Kennedy.” He smiled down into her emerald eyes. “There's nothing that would make me happier than having a family with you.” Walking into their suite, he set her on the bed and went to rummage through a drawer.

Turning back, he said, “Well, maybe one thing would make me happier.”

“What?” she asked curiously.

Taking the three steps he needed, he knelt before her. “If my child’s mother was also my wife.” He held out the ring box he’d been hiding from her for months.

Her eyes were huge in her face when she gasped, “Steven?”

“They kept all my things for the museum and stuff, the historical significance and all that. So, when I went looking for it, SHIELD had a record and managed to help me get this back.” Lifting the lid, he revealed the antique gold ring, the setting a twisted band with three stones. “It was my mother’s. The outer stones were lost when I was a kid, so I had them replaced with emeralds because they reminded me of your eyes, but the diamond was surprisingly good quality, or so the jeweller said so it's original.”

Her mouth was hanging open, the shock evident. “How… how long have you had this?”

“I started looking for it at Christmas. Finally got my hands on it February. Got it back from the jeweller in March,” he said, a light flush on his cheeks.

“Three months?” she whispered. “You’ve had this… three months?”

He nodded. “I was… gonna ask you on the first of July.”

“Canada Day?” Her eyes filled with tears which trickled down her cheeks.

“Baby,” he brushed his thumb across her face. “Yeah. What better day to ask my Canadian girl to marry me?”

She threw herself at him, taking him over backwards to the floor.

Landing with an oomph Steve asked, “Is that a yes?”

Nodding vigorously, Kennedy hiccupped as she cried, “Y-yes!”

Sitting them back up, he held her in his lap, plucked the ring from its box, and slipped it onto her finger.

“It fits,” she said, wiping at her face, holding out the hand with the ring.

“Of course it fits. What kind of master spy would I be if I couldn’t get my girl’s ring size right?” he chuckled before kissing her soundly. A hard banging at the door had him growling out, “What?”

“For fuck sake, punk! We’re dying out here! Did she say yes or what?” Bucky hollered through the door.

Laughing, Kennedy used his shoulders to get to her feet. “C’mon, Steven. We can finish this later.” She held out her hands.

He took them but heaved himself back to his feet with very little of her help. Before she could get too far away, he drew her back, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and laid his hand on her belly. “I love you,” he said softly, looking down into her sparkling eyes. “I love you both.”

“Oh god, Steven! As if I don’t have enough issues with the hormones. I’m going to be a sobbing mess you say stuff like that too often.”

“Every day, baby. I’ll tell you every day.” Kissing her deeply, he held tight to his family.

***

Hours later, after the entire team had gathered for an impromptu celebration, Steve was standing off to one side of the room, watching as Kennedy laughed up at something Thor had said.

She’d made the big man’s night when she’d told him on the sly how excited her father would be to finally get to meet the God of Thunder.

Thor had quite monopolized her time afterward, but Steve didn’t mind. The Asgardian even let her try to lift the hammer. It hadn't budged, but she shrugged it off with a laugh.

She glowed. Kennedy had never looked more beautiful than she did right now.

Tomorrow, they would be making a surprise trip to the ranch where they'd tell her family the good news. Hopefully, her daddy wouldn't punch him in the mouth for doing things a little backward. After all, he'd already asked for Jonas's blessing when they'd gone up at Easter and gotten a resounding yes.

“You keep staring at her with that goofy ass grin I may just have to punch you,” Bucky said with a smirk as he sidled up beside Steve.

“Shut up, jerk,” Steve quipped, uncaring. He was too damn happy. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Had to go get something.” Bucky dropped the small blue gift bag on the table beside Steve. “For you, punk.”

Frowning, Steve shook his head. “I don’t… for what?”

Crossing his arms, Bucky huffed, “Just fucking open it, Stevie.”

Eyeing Bucky, he tugged the card from the top and the box from inside. “Great wrapping job.”

“So help me, Steven…” he growled.

Chuckling, Steve ripped open the card, only to have to sit down rather hard on the barstool beside the table. “How?” he gasped softly, looking up at Buck in shock.

“Third Sunday in June is this weekend. Happy father’s day, Steve.”

The card with the picture of big boots and little boots read for the father-to-be. Scrubbing his hand over his mouth, Steve swallowed hard, fighting back the thick knot of emotion which had appeared in his throat.

“Open the box before you lose your shit, Cap,” Bucky muttered, his own eyes shining brightly.

Placing the card on the table, Steve lifted off the top of the box. Beneath the tissue paper was the tiniest of tiny clothes he’d ever seen. “Buck…” he forced past the lump.

“Not yet, punk. Take it out.” Buck’s voice was hoarse.

Lifting it out, amazed at how small the onesie looked in his hands, Steve turned it over. The half sob, half laugh exploded from him. A dark blue, the front read My Daddy’s a Super Soldier, and his shield was printed bold as life beneath the writing. “How in the hell…?”

“Saw it a while ago. Guess they’re kind of a novelty thing, but in this case, it’s true.” His hand closed over Steve’s shoulder.

His hand closed reverently around the tiny piece of clothing. Jerking to his feet, he seized Bucky in a hug which would have crushed a normal man. “I’m gonna be a daddy.”

Bucky’s arms closed just as tight around Steve. “Congratulations, pal.”

Tears of happiness and joy slid down his face. “Thanks, Buck,” he said, pulling back and scrubbing a hand over his wet face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Bucky reached out and patted Steve firmly on the cheek, his grin wicked. “Just wait till the kid gets here, and you’re sleep deprived.”

Chuckling, Steve shrugged. “Don’t care. It’s my kid.” Turning his attention back to the room, he smiled at Kennedy as she made her way toward them. Poking Bucky in the ribs, he muttered, “Find a box of tissues. She’s going to bawl like crazy.”

Bucky was quick to make his exit in search of the required item.

“What’s going on over here with all the bromancing?” she asked, her smile cheeky.

“Wait for it.” He held up his hand, tucking the other behind his back.

“For?” Her brow arched as Bucky returned with the box of tissues.

“This.” He held up the tiny shirt.

Kennedy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh… oh, Bucky.”

The former winter soldier thrust the box of tissues toward her. “Seemed appropriate.”

“So much!” she gave a watery laugh, going in for her own hug, clutching a handful of Kleenex. “Thank you, Bucky.”

Looking down at the tiny piece of clothing, Steve smiled. He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted in the span of heartbeats. His Canadian girl was going to be his wife, they had a child on the way, and, when he looked up at the faces around him, he knew his team, his family would do everything in their power to make damn sure his family, their family, stayed safe.

Whatever came next, they would face it… together.

- The End -

#canadian girl #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #Canada 150

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lesbrarians · 7 years

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Junkrat/Roadhog:: Trepidations

Well, Roadhog has officially gotten his own comic, and it was glorious -- but with that, Origins is no longer canon compliant, much to my dismay. I'm sorry if anyone was looking forward to a third installment of the series, but I think I'm probably going to be retiring it, ahhh. It's really important to me to stay true to canon, and I can't do that anymore with the reveal of how they met differing so much from my approach :c But I hope you enjoy this sendoff, it's a response to a request I got a longass time ago for the scene where Junkrat loses his arm from Roadhog's perspective. Thank you so much for reading!!

Title: Trepidations

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog (+Ava and Rosa)

Rating: R

Summary: Roadhog has seen -- and caused -- a lot of bloodshed in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for this. Told in Roadhog's perspective, this is a retelling of the scene in my Origins fic where Junkrat loses his arm, including what happened when he was unconscious. TW for traumatic amputation, gore, surgery, and general grossness.

---

Roadhog blamed himself.

In the aftermath of Piglet’s death, he let grief consume him, and Junkrat was the one to pay for his lapse in attention.

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t entirely his fault. Anyone would have been devastated by what he had been through. Seeing the pig you had adopted as your own pet carved open and roasting on a fire was enough to distract even the finest of bodyguards. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a personal investment in Piglet, either -- the runt of the litter, with its oversized ears and brown spots, could have passed for one of the pigs he had raised twenty years ago. Piglet had been a reminder of better days, before radiation from the nuclear explosion had infiltrated his chest cavity and destroyed his already weak lungs. Before he’d realised that you could trust no one but yourself. Before he’d decided to go solo -- until, entirely against his will, Junkrat had wormed his way into his life.

Junkrat.

He knew something was wrong when he realised that Junkrat had gone unnaturally quiet. The little freak was never quiet. He couldn’t fall asleep at night without tossing and turning a good dozen times, accompanied by exaggerated sighs. Even when he took a leak, he talked to himself. Roadhog wasn’t sure whether he found the odd habit endearing or irritating. Either way, it was one of many quirks that made it impossible to ignore Junkrat’s presence. He was noisy, regardless of whether or not he had an audience.

When he realised that there was no distracted muttering or inane giggles coming from the bushes that Junkrat had disappeared through, his head snapped up.

“Junkrat.” He seized his scrap gun and charged in the direction of the shrubbery.

Roadhog was a man of instinct. He wasn’t quite as impulse-driven as his scatterbrained partner (when, he wondered, did he begin to view Junkrat as one half of a duo, instead of merely the trouble-seeking employer he was supposed to protect?), but violence was his knee-jerk reaction to just about every unforeseen circumstance.

The sight of Junkrat pinned to the ground under the weight of another Junker, with a bloody stump of an arm and a gag in his mouth that muffled his agonised screaming, was as unforeseen as circumstances came.

He acted on pure instinct. He fired his scrap gun, and his target’s head exploded in a gory mess of brain matter and viscera. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. He dragged the headless corpse off of Junkrat and tossed it aside, where the dead weight landed with a wet thump.

Junkrat gasped for air the second Roadhog ungagged him. “What the hell did I hire ya for?” he said, voice cracking. “I’m down a fuckin’ arm thanks to you! Yer supposed to -- how the bloody hell didn’t you see him?”

The words stung, but they were nothing compared to the pain Junkrat must have been in.

“I know,” Roadhog said. He tried to staunch the bleeding, but it was futile. He pulled his hand away to find it slick with blood, his fingers stained a bright red that he would see long after he’d washed it off. He’d thought he’d become desensitised to the sight over the years -- hell, he relished reducing someone to a bloody pulp -- but seeing his partner wounded was a thousand times worse than his most brutal kill.

“I’m sorry. I was distract--” He stopped himself. Grief was a poor excuse. Mourning Piglet shouldn’t have kept him from doing his job. If anything, Piglet’s slaughter should have served as a reminder to never let his guard down. The second you let yourself grow complacent, you got butchered. “I’m sorry,” he finished.

Junkrat’s severed arm lay on the ground between them like some kind of sick Halloween prop. Roadhog pushed it aside. It wasn’t a clean cut -- if the ragged edges were indicative of anything, Junkrat’s attacker had needed a few good whacks to successfully chop off the forearm -- and he wasn’t harboring any delusions that they would be capable of reattaching it.

Besides, the sight of it was freaking him out, if he was being perfectly honest with himself.

The vitriol seeped out of Junkrat, and he went limp. His breaths came in staccato bursts, harsh and shallow, like a cornered jackrabbit. “I’m gonna die,” he whimpered.

“No, you’re not,” Roadhog said with the practiced conviction of a man who spent the better part of his adult life lying to others. He fished for a bandanna from his back pocket. It wasn’t the cleanest thing, but it had to be better than exposing the gaping wound to the elements.

“Yes I am!” Junkrat wailed. “Just leave me alone to die!” If it had been any other moment, Roadhog would have rolled his eyes at Junkrat’s histrionics, but given the current circumstances, he could forgive him for being a little hysterical.

Still, he couldn’t help but growl, “Don’t be melodramatic. I just lost Piglet, I’m not losing you too.” He wasn’t sure whether he was trying to convince Junkrat or himself.

Junkrat gave him a watery smile. “You do care.” He reached his arm up towards Roadhog’s face, where it hung uselessly between them. Roadhog stared at the hovering stump, arrested by the sight of mangled flesh and bone. He tore his eyes away and went back to business. For all of his insistence that Junkrat wasn’t going to die, it was looking more likely by the minute. He needed to rig up some kind of tourniquet, anything to keep him from bleeding out until Roadhog could get him some proper medical assistance. The bandanna would work, but he needed something with enough tension to cut off the circulation in Junkrat’s arm. He reached for Junkrat’s belt and undid it, pulling it out of the loops of his shorts.

Junkrat’s giggle turned into a barely choked-back sob, and he managed a twisted smile. “What, now ya wanna get in my pants? This gets ya goin’?” He waved the bloody stump.

It was horribly, wildly inappropriate, and Roadhog couldn’t even begin to address everything that was wrong with Junkrat’s depraved little joke. “Shut. Up,” he said. It came out angrier than intended, but he was under a lot of mental strain at the moment, and Junkrat wasn’t helping. He wrapped the leather belt around Junkrat’s arm and yanked hard, tying off the makeshift tourniquet.

“You’re more scared than what I am,” Junkrat accused.

Roadhog ignored him. He was stressed, upset, guilt-ridden -- worried, even, but he wasn’t scared. “That’ll keep you alive for now. Still needs to come off before necrosis sets in,” he said, doing his level best to keep his voice impassive. His mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. They were in the middle of nowhere, and even if he had known where the nearest hospital was, they weren’t exactly the kind of clientele that a respectable medical institution catered to. They’d be arrested the second Junkrat was stabilised. No, Roadhog had a better idea.

“I know someone,” he said, scooping Junkrat up to carry him to the sidecar. “From the Australian Liberation Front. She used to be a doctor before she was displaced.”

He hadn’t seen Dr. Ava Pennington in at least a decade. After the omnium explosion, he had stayed behind in the wreckage and carved out a place for himself on the outskirts of the cutthroat society that sprang up in its wake. With the radiation poisoning spreading to his already-weak lungs, the idea of donning a gas mask and starting a solitary life of crime had held a certain allure. He was angry, he’d lost everything he’d ever owned to the omnics, and he needed a fresh start in a place where no one knew his face or his name, where he didn’t have to answer to anyone but himself.

Ava, on the other hand… Roadhog imagined that if she hadn’t been married, Ava would have traveled down the same path as he had, perhaps even become Queen of Junkertown herself. Maybe he wouldn’t have minded the sad excuse for a city so much if Ava was the one in charge. But Rosa was a civilian, an innocent bystander as her wife conspired with the rest of the Australian Liberation Front to take out the omnium. Ava was eccentric, she preferred the isolation of the Outback, but she wasn’t willing to uproot Rosa and put her life in danger. Instead of staying behind and building Junkertown -- or, in Roadhog’s case, disdainfully watching from afar -- she and Rosa retired to their own quiet house on the outskirts of the Outback. They were well removed from both Junker society and civilised society, but close enough to commute. The last time he’d spoken to Ava, she had been talking about trying to do medicine part-time, aiming for three twelve-hour shifts a week as a trauma surgeon in the city. She’d know how to fix this.

Junkrat drew what remained of his arm close to his body and curled inward, hiding his face in Roadhog’s chest. “I don’t want any maggots in me,” he mumbled. “She’s not puttin’ them in me, I don’t want maggots in me, I won’t do it, you can’t make me.”

Roadhog had heard plenty of non sequiturs from Junkrat in the short time they had been together, but this one threw him for a loop. Baffled, he said, “Maggots-- No one’s putting maggots in you.”

“She’s not doin’ it, no, no.”

“I won’t let her put maggots in you.”

Junkrat closed his eyes and nodded. “Okay. Good. Okay.”

Roadhog settled Junkrat into the sidecar of his chopper. He wrapped the blanket they had bought for Piglet around Junkrat in a last-ditch attempt to keep him from slipping into irreversible shock. Night was quickly descending upon them, and once the blistering sun sunk below the horizon, a chill would settle through the desert -- the last thing a wounded Junkrat needed to contend with.

As he revved up the engine, a long-forgotten feeling gnawed at the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t until they were roaring through the Outback, kicking up a trail of dust in their wake, that he realised that Junkrat’s observation had been right -- for the first time in years, fear was clawing at his insides.

---

Junkrat had slipped into unconsciousness during the trip to Ava’s. The pain and physical exhaustion from the late hour proved too much for him, and, unable to cope, his body shut down. Roadhog scooped him up, letting the bloody stump of his arm dangle freely, and carried him to the house.

Junkrat’s scrawny body was tiny in his massive hands. It took little effort to shift his weight to one side and bang on the front door with deafening force.

Ava answered the door in her echidna-patterned pajamas, bedhead rendering her untamed mane of tightly-wound curls wilder than ever. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening as she looked up at Roadhog. “Mako--!”

“Fix him.” Roadhog held out Junkrat’s broken body. There would be time for pleasantries later. They had precious little time, and right now, he was more concerned with saving the life of this freak he barely knew than he was with greeting an old friend.

Ava shut her mouth and tried to peer around his massive frame. “Yeah, sure, I can fix that right up -- you got the broken off bits hiding back there?”

Roadhog glowered at her. “He’s dying, Ava,” he said coldly.

Ava couldn’t see his expression through the thick lenses of his gas mask, but she read his displeasure loud and clear. “Sorry, big fella, I hear you, that was in poor taste. Well, what are you just standing around for? Get him in here, let’s have a looky loo.”

She stood aside to let him in and shifted into doctor mode, striding into the kitchen with purpose. Junkrat shifted in Roadhog’s arms, tightening his grip on the bloody stump clutched to his chest, as if he knew his suffering was about to get much worse. Ava quickly sanitised the kitchen table, a facsimile of a sterile operating workspace, and Roadhog carefully lowered Junkrat onto it.

“Rosa, doll?” Ava called. “Come give me a hand!”

Ava’s wife appeared behind them, her round face furrowed with concern. “Honey...?” she said, pausing to drink in the scene before her.

“Hi.” Roadhog lifted a hand in greeting.

Rosa’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Mako!”

“It’s Roadhog now,” he reminded her. He’d made the decision to shed his birth name after the omnium incident, instead adopting the nickname bestowed upon him by Ava and some of the other Australian Liberation Front members. He’d earned a reputation as a roadhog from the other bikers in their gang of rebels, and he’d latched onto the moniker with a proud ferocity. As the Junker society rose from the ashes of the omnium explosion, he found that he was far from alone. Countless Junkers adopted names that fit their reinvented identities or places in Junkertown’s lawless society.

“Roadhog,” Rosa repeated, nodding. She looked past him at the man bleeding out on her kitchen table. “What do you need me to do?” she asked Ava, brown eyes alert and focused despite the late hour.

Ava had already snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and was undoing Junkrat’s tourniquet. “First things first: whip me up a couple litres of sterile saline solution,” she said. “Real slipshod job with the tourniquet here, Roadhog,” she added, handing him the old bandanna and belt.

“I was under a lot of pressure.” He stuffed the bloody bandanna back in his pocket and draped Junkrat’s belt over the back of a chair for safekeeping.

“No excuse for getting sloppy!” She wagged a reproachful finger at him. “I didn’t waste my expertise teaching you for you to go forgetting it the second the going gets tough!” She raised her voice to address Rosa, who was already pouring water into the electric kettle to prepare the saline solution. “Oh, and babe, change the sheets on the bed when you get a sec -- this poor sod’s gonna need somewhere to sleep after all this.”

Ava hefted her bag of tools onto the table and searched through it, pulling out various surgical instruments and muttering to herself as she took inventory. “Bone saw, suture anchors, scalpel, forceps…”

She noticed Roadhog looking at her and sensed his masked concern. “What do you look so worried for? I’m very good at my job, remember?” She grinned up at him. He presumed that it was intended to put him at ease, but there was something about Ava’s smile that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not for the first time in his life, he was glad that she was on their side.

Ava held up two fingers. “Steps one and two to sorting out this mess: irrigation and surgical debridement,” she explained. “Layman’s terms, gonna flush out all the nasty debris in that gaping wound as best as I can and remove all the dead and contaminated tissue and any other foreign material that’s really lodged up in there. Once that’s done, then we can focus on closing it all up. How’s that saline looking, Rosa?”

She left Roadhog’s side to fetch the sterile solution that Rosa was mixing together. Roadhog leaned over Junkrat, searching his face for any signs of life. He thought he saw Junkrat’s eyes flutter open for the briefest of seconds. “I’m gonna fix this,” he muttered, his voice low so that only Junkrat could hear him -- if he even could. His grip on the conscious world seemed tenuous at best.

He stepped back as Ava returned with a jar of saline solution and eyed the row of gleaming surgical instruments she had arranged on the table. “Do you have anaesthesia?” he asked.

She shook her head, curls bouncing from side to side. “‘Fraid not. I’m not an anaesthetist, and that’s all highly regulated anyway. Let’s hope your man here has a high tolerance for pain, eh?”

Roadhog’s brow furrowed in concern. Life would be a lot easier for Junkrat if he could be knocked out during this ordeal.

Rosa placed a hand on his arm, and he flinched at the sudden contact. “He’s in good hands, Roadhog,” she said softly. She had a warm, wet washcloth in hand and used it to wipe the dried blood caked on Junkrat’s chest and face.

“The best!” Ava agreed jovially. She bent over Junkrat. “Oi, don’t know if you can hear me, but just hang in there, alright? This might sting just a tad, but never you worry, it’ll all be over soon!” She thumped Junkrat’s good arm in a somewhat reassuring gesture and started humming to herself as she began washing out the bloody stump with a steady stream of saline solution. Ava’s bedside manner perplexed Roadhog; she was so relentlessly cheerful in the face of grievous bodily injury, and her humming, while perfectly pleasant, felt oddly morbid. He thought he recognised the tune from the opening theme of an old, black-and-white horror film he’d seen back in the day. Frankenstein? Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, perhaps?

“Toccata and Fugue in D Minor,” Ava said out loud, as if she had read his mind. “Bach’s finest organ piece, in my humble opinion.” She bent her head closer to inspect the wound, cleansed of the surface dirt and grit. She reached for the scalpel and forceps and--

Junkrat whimpered, a sound so pitiful that it stabbed Roadhog in the heart.

He took a step closer. “What can I do?” he asked, peering over Ava’s shoulder and watching as she concentrated on excising a mutilated piece of tissue.

“Stop breathing down my neck, is what!” Ava said, shrugging him off.

There was no malice in her words, but still, Roadhog took a step back, suddenly self-conscious of the way his labored breathing wheezed through the filters of his gas mask.

“Actually, wash your hands and hold this a second.” He quickly obliged. She handed him the bloody scalpel, which he pinched between his thumb and forefinger until she held out her hand expectantly. “You’re real lucky you have me and my tools for this, you know. There’s more unsavory methods of debridement out there. Did you know that maggot therapy is a thing? Green bottle fly larvae will eat necrotic tissue, but it takes a few days, and between you and me, it’s pretty gross.”

All at once, Junkrat’s slurred rambling about maggots made perfect sense. Roadhog looked down at Junkrat and his peg leg with newfound clarity. Junkrat had told him all about how he’d lost his leg in an accident with one of his mines but failed to mention the gory aftermath.

He wondered what other things his partner had never shared with him.

Roadhog adopted the unofficial role of surgical technologist, handing Ava whatever instruments she needed. He watched the proceedings with a growing sense of dread, unable to look away. Ava activated the bone saw, and the electric buzzing gave way to a sickening grinding noise as she shaved off another two inches of severed bone.

“Exposed bone gets infected just like everything else,” Ava explained over the loud whirr, “and I need to hollow the arm out, so to speak. Create enough leftover skin to seal up this stub once all those fleshy bits are tidied up and anchored down. Related: get those suture anchors ready, I’m going to need them soon.”

Roadhog said nothing as Ava concentrated on rearranging the remaining tissue into what she referred to as a “soft tissue envelope -- sort of like a fatty cushion, it’ll make it less painful for him, especially if he ever wants to try for a prosthetic like that leg of his.” She drew the muscles over the radius and ulna and placed sutures through them, anchoring them to the severed bones.

Once everything was screwed down and secure, Ava declared that she no longer needed his assistance. Roadhog retreated to watch from a distance as Ava began the painstaking process of closing the wound, arranging the remaining flaps of skin just so and stitching it up.

“Oh, are you awake?” Ava said aloud. “I’m Dr. Ava Pennington -- you’re gonna be okay.”

Junkrat gave a groan, and Roadhog, who had sank heavily on a kitchen chair, knocked it over in his haste to stand up. By the time he reached the kitchen table, Junkrat’s eyes had closed and his jaw had gone slack. Still, hearing Junkrat’s voice and knowing that he was momentarily lucid eased some of the weight on Roadhog’s chest.

He sat back down, the sudden spike of adrenaline coupled with the rest of the night’s labors tuckering him out.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do but wait it out,” Ava finally announced, wiping her bloody hands on an old dishtowel. She turned to face Roadhog. “Change his dressings, keep an eye on the swelling, give him meds when he comes ‘round, and hope his li’l body’s strong enough to fight off infection. And try to make him comfortable in the meantime.”

“There’s fresh sheets on the bed,” Rosa added, “if you want to move him there.”

Roadhog nodded and stood up. His limbs felt like lead as he crossed the short distance to the kitchen table and picked Junkrat up.

Ava’s and Rosa’s house was a small, studio-style place where the kitchen, living room, and bedroom bled into one another. A flimsy, decorative sliding room divider offered the mere illusion of privacy; it didn’t extend far enough to cordon the bedroom off from the rest of the house. It creaked as Rosa pulled it open. Roadhog had the impression it was rarely used.

There were signs of their hosts’ interrupted lives -- Rosa’s book on the nightstand, Ava’s rumpled clothes on the floor, directly next to the laundry hamper that stood in the corner -- but the sheets were clean, and that was all that mattered, momentary guilt be damned.

Rosa pulled the covers back so that Roadhog could tuck Junkrat in. The three of them circled around the bed, eyeing their patient.

“What is he?” Ava asked.

Rosa gasped and swatted her wife. “Ava! He’s a human being!”

Ava cowered with a laugh, hands raised in surrender. “Not what I meant! Not what I meant! I meant, what’s he to you? I mean, I haven’t seen you in years, Mako -- last I saw of you, you were striking out on your own. Then you show up on my doorstep with some bloke who’s down an arm and a leg. What is he, boyfriend, business partner, friend...?” She waved her hand, encouraging him to fill in the blank.

Roadhog briefly considered it. “Partner in crime,” he answered. He wasn’t willing to define things further -- even calling Junkrat his partner in crime was being generous, given the turbulent start to their relationship.

Ava shrugged. “Works for me!”

There was a moment’s lull as they watched Junkrat twitch fitfully in his sleep.

“Bit of an odd-looking fella, isn’t he?” Ava said. “How’dya meet?”

“We won’t pry further,” Rosa hastened to add, planting her hands on her wife’s shoulders and pivoting her around.

“Oh, sure, plenty of time to catch up later!” Ava said, dutifully allowing Rosa to steer her towards the living room. “We should crash now, brilliant idea. It’s been a long night and your mate here needs his rest.” She paused, casting Roadhog a shrewd look. “You planning on staying up a little longer to keep an eye on him?”

He nodded mutely. He knew Ava expected a more thorough answer, but he didn’t see the sense in responding verbally when he could communicate the bare minimum silently.

She tapped the side of her nose with her finger. “I know you, old friend, you did the same with Riptide, remember?” Roadhog remembered. He’d looked after his fellow Australian Liberation Front member when he was injured, and the man had repaid him by robbing him blind. Roadhog had given up on trusting people after that. Ava -- and her wife, by extension -- was the exception to the rule. The jury was still out as far as Junkrat was concerned, but he had proven to be a man of his word thus far. He couldn’t count for shit, but he tried his hardest to adhere to their 50-50 rule.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Ava continued. “I’ve already got one patient, I don’t need you getting ill too! I might be good, but I can tell this guy’s gonna be a handful…”

“Ava, honey, why don’t you go get the sleeping bags set up?” Rosa said with as much sweetness as she could muster. She pushed Ava over the invisible line that separated the living room from the bedroom and extended the divider to block her from view.

“Can do!” Ava’s voice floated through the screen.

Rosa gave Roadhog an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry she’s… the way that she is. But you know all about that, don’t you?”

Roadhog nodded again and sank down in a chintzy armchair. He couldn’t tell if it belonged to the bedroom or the living room. He was very familiar with Ava’s matter-of-fact, occasionally insensitive remarks. She meant well -- as far as he could tell, anyway -- and he appreciated her candor. Her oddities had, in some bizarre way, prepared him for Junkrat’s quirks and spastic demeanor.

Rosa placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She is right, though. You should get some sleep, Roadhog,” she said. “Stress and no sleep can’t be good for your health.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.” He didn’t take his eyes off of Junkrat.

Rosa bit her lip but nodded. “If that’s how you feel.” She opened the linen closet and pulled out a patchwork quilt.

Roadhog finally looked up at Rosa as she draped the blanket over his shoulders.

“You have to take care of yourself too, you know,” she told him. “You’re no good to Junkrat if you run yourself ragged.”

“I’m no good to him now,” he said quietly.

Rosa gave him a small, sad smile. “I know,” she said. “I know you think that. But I’m sure he would say different.”

What the hell did I hire ya for? I’m down a fuckin’ arm thanks to you!

Roadhog didn’t share Rosa’s convictions. He drew the quilt down his shoulders and turned his attention back to Junkrat.

Rosa waited a few seconds for him to answer. When it became apparent that he had no such intentions, she stood up. “Well, promise you’ll at least try to catch a few winks then?”

Roadhog nodded wordlessly.

“Good.” Rosa stood up and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Ava and I will be in the living room, alright? Just give us a shout if you need us. The couch is all yours, whenever you’re ready to get some rest.”

Rosa extended the screen to its fullest width to afford Roadhog a modicum of privacy, leaving him to wonder how and when he had gotten so invested in the wellbeing of the little freak he had tried to kill just a few short months ago.

Junkrat squirmed on the bed, perspiration beading on his forehead, and struck out with his foot. The sheet tangled around his leg, and Roadhog realised that Junkrat was still wearing his peg leg.

He hadn’t given the peg leg much thought after their first encounter; Junkrat wasn’t the first Junker with a missing limb he’d met, and he used his prosthetic leg effortlessly. It was a natural extension, in Roadhog’s mind’s eye.

Still, he knew it couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in. There were nights where Junkrat didn’t remove it, nights where they were both on edge and needed to make a quick getaway. The next day, his usual awkward gait turned into a full-fledged limp, and Roadhog would catch him uncomfortably adjusting the socket. Nine times out of ten, Junkrat removed the prosthetic when he was sleeping. Hell, he’d done it their first night together -- a bold move, considering that not 24 hours prior, Roadhog had been attempting to kill him.

He couldn’t imagine the kind of pain Junkrat was in right now. The least he could do was make sure he was as comfortable as possible.

Roadhog stood up and approached the side of the bed. “Hey,” he muttered. He didn’t know if Junkrat could hear him in this state, but it didn’t feel right to touch Junkrat without telling him. Roadhog was leery of physical contact from anyone but the closest of friends, and while he doubted -- knew -- that Junkrat didn’t share his reservations, he didn’t want to violate Junkrat’s personal space. “Just gonna take off your leg for you. Hold still.”

Whether or not he heard him, Junkrat stopped fidgeting once Roadhog laid hands on him.

His skin was hot and clammy, a sure sign that a fever was sinking in.

Roadhog untangled Junkrat from the sheets twisted around his legs. He pushed the ragged fabric of Junkrat’s shorts up his right thigh to expose the junction where the socket of his peg leg met flesh. As he figured out how to detach the prosthetic, his thumb traced the scar tissue of Junkrat’s thigh. There was a nasty, twisted gash that ran up the inner part of the stump, and it reminded Roadhog of the battle scar that curved up the side of his own face.

He set the peg leg aside and removed the sock that covered the stump, and Junkrat sighed. Roadhog was sure that the prosthetic liner made the peg leg more comfortable to wear, serving as a barrier between the flesh of the residual limb and the prosthetic itself, but it had to feel good to let the stump breathe every now and then.

The armchair groaned as Roadhog sat back down, pulling it closer to the bedside. He closed his eyes. He was getting tired in spite of himself, but the thought of leaving Junkrat alone when he was feverish left a sour taste in his mouth. He wasn’t used to feeling guilt or compassion -- it had been a long time since he’d connected with anyone enough to particularly care about how his actions affected them.

He thought back to Ava’s question: what was Junkrat to him? He didn’t know how to define their relationship. He had never met anyone quite like Junkrat before. The man was an idiot. He baffled Roadhog on a daily basis. He didn’t listen, and Roadhog was still liable to hit him if he overstepped his physical boundaries. They hadn’t reached the point in this bizarre relationship they had cultivated where Roadhog was comfortable with Junkrat poking his belly, which he tended to do with suicidal regularity.

And yet. Junkrat made him laugh -- truly and genuinely laugh. He had been so good with Piglet. Not a lot of criminals would have been so agreeable to adopting a pet pig. He had been amenable to spending some of their hard-earned cash on luxuries for said pig, and only protested a little when Roadhog had insisted on getting baby oil for Piglet. Somehow, Junkrat had even gotten him to volunteer information about his life as Mako Rutledge, to talk about the pigs he raised before everything went south.

For better or worse, Junkrat was a part of his life now, and as loathe as he was to admit it, he was growing fond of the obnoxious asshole. Fond enough to feel regret, both on a professional and a personal level, for failing to protect him.

When he opened his eyes once more, he found that Junkrat’s brow was furrowed, his face contorted like he was having a particularly bad dream. No stranger to nightmares, Roadhog patted Junkrat’s hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. The wrinkle in Junkrat’s brow smoothed out slightly.

Roadhog fell asleep in the chair, his hand still covering Junkrat’s.

“Shut up,” he said when Ava woke him the following morning.

“I didn’t say anything,” she answered, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

Junkrat surfaced long enough to take some painkillers, but he was in no condition to carry on a conversation with anyone and didn’t seem entirely aware of his surroundings. After blindly taking the medicine he was offered, he nodded off once more, his body shutting down in an attempt to sleep off the pain. Ava confirmed that his temperature had spiked, a sure sign of infection, and they took turns administering cold compresses.

Ava pulled out a puzzle for them to work on in their downtime, giving Roadhog something to focus on asides from his concern about Junkrat. That night, he decided to sleep on the couch -- it reassured him to stay with Junkrat, but sleeping upright in the chair was bad for his back, and he needed a good night’s rest. If he withdrew the screen, he could still keep an eye on the bed from the couch

He checked in on Junkrat before bed, fresh cold compress in hand, only to find that he had kicked his blankets off in his sleep and was shivering violently.

Roadhog frowned and dragged the covers back over him. It wasn’t exactly chilly in the house -- the quilt Rosa had given him the previous night had been more for comfort than to ward off the cold.

Junkrat stilled for a few moments before thrashing them off again. He trembled like a leaf, curling up in an unconscious attempt to warm himself up.

Roadhog sighed. The fever had yet to break, and Junkrat’s body temperature was obviously swinging from one extreme to the other. He set the cold compress on the nightstand.

There was plenty of room in the king sized bed for him to lay down next to Junkrat, who was so skinny that Roadhog could count his ribs. He wrapped an arm around Junkrat’s waist and pulled him close, hoping that his body heat would be enough to strike that balance between too hot and too cold.

Junkrat stilled, all the tension in his muscles dissipating as he relaxed against Roadhog’s body. His good hand found Roadhog’s arm, and his fingers lightly brushed against his forearm.

Roadhog bent his head so that the snout of his mask snuffled against the ashy tips of Junkrat’s hair. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about how right this felt.

His last conscious thought before drifting off to sleep was that he was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to Ava in the morning.

#roadrat #junkrat #roadhog #trepidations #origins #my fanfiction

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i-d-k-man · 7 years

Text

If I’m Being Honest

[Tododeku, BNHA]

A03 Link

2. No, you hang up~!

It took two flights of stairs for Todoroki’s own post-workout stench to pierce through the cloud of mild panic surrounding his brain.

It took the next flight of stairs for Todoroki to decide that he didn't give a single shit, and that his one and only goal at this point was to retreat to safety of his room so he could think.

On the fourth flight of stairs, Todoroki finished the last of his water, throat clogged like a BP pipeline as embarrassment over his incident with Midoriya resurfaced. He screwed the cap of his bottle back on clumsily. Just focus on getting back.

Only the fifth flight of stairs remained between Todoroki and victory when it was cruelly yanked out from under him, in the form of three chattering figures entering the stairwell.

“- only has a shelf life of like a week, but he still ate the whole bottle! Oh, hey, Todoroki!” Ashido greeted enthusiastically.

Right behind Ashido, Uraraka waved with a friendly smile. Tokoyami, somewhat unexpectedly, rounded out the trio, nodding cooly at Todoroki.

“What incident has befallen your face, Todoroki?”

“...Hello, Tokoyami. And I got punched during training today. Nothing exciting.” The girls oooo’ed sympathetically. Please just let me go, Todoroki prayed, eyes flickering nervously over the trio.

“So, Uraraka and I were having a debate, and we need your opinion.”

Todoroki’s eyebrow twitched, ever so slightly.

If Ashido noticed, she didn’t care. “ Uraraka here thinks - very sadly, in my opinion - that a Frosty is better than a McFlurry, and I need you to be the voice of reason here.”

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here…” Uraraka countered, before Todoroki could even respond. “I don’t appreciate the way that you just assumed Todoroki would choose the McFlurry, and how you insinuated that it was the ‘reasonable’ answer.” Her voice raised with genuine conviction. “Need I remind you that a Frosty is only 99 yen?! Hell, you couldn’t find a better deal than that if you -”

The doorway to the fifth floor taunted Todoroki as he tuned the conversation out; just mere meters away. He even tried inching towards it, until Ashido grasped his forearm with surprising strength.

“Please, Todoroki,” her eyes blazed. “You’re like, one of the smartest dudes in class. Set the record straight, once and for all.”

Ashido’s grip tightened. Todoroki frowned slightly. “Why can’t you just ask Tokoyami?”

Both girls scoffed in unison. “As if! That weirdo gets salads at fast food restaurants.”

“I don’t enjoy grease,” Tokoyami stated, arms folded primly.

“See what we’re dealing with! You gotta help us, Todoroki. Which is better, the McFlurry or Frosty?”

Todoroki opened his mouth, fully intent on just picking one at random and retreating upstairs, but what came out instead was: “I have never had either.”

Twin gasps echoed up the stairs. Even Tokoyami appeared shocked. “Todoroki, what kind of depraved life have you been leading?”

“A lonely one,” he blurted truthfully, yet again. What is wrong with me? Todoroki really needed time to think, not -

“Todoroki, I vow to save you from your tragic depravity!” Ashido declared passionately, clasping his hand.

- not this, this chicanery . Todoroki shook off Ashido’s grip. “I’m afraid that I must decline. “I’m…”

‘busy’. Nope, the word refused to exit his mouth. ‘tired’ and ‘sick’ met a similar fate. Todoroki startled as his left temple throbbed.

“...sweaty,” he finished quickly, lamely. “I, um, still need to shower.”

“We just learned that you’ve never had a McFlurry or Frosty, and your mind is on showering?” Uraraka looked affronted.

“Yes?”

“Well, then, that’s just too bad.” Uraraka crossed her arms resolutely. “Because you’re gonna come join us on our fast food run, right now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Besides instantly freeze all of us in place,” Tokoyami muttered. Uraraka glared at him.

“No,” Todoroki added more firmness to his voice. “I’d really rather not, right now. Besides, if I don't shower I'll gross people out.”

Ashido scoffed. “As if you could gross people out. Besides, body odor is practically celebrated at fast food restaurants.” She put her hands on her hips. “Have you even had lunch today?”

“...No.”

“Aren’t you hungry, then?”

Of course, Todoroki’s stomach took that precise moment to grumble loudly. Todoroki sighed. “Yes, I am.” Damn traitorous organs.

“Betrayal often comes from those closest to us, perhaps even from ourselves.” Tokoyami noted, sagely.

Ashido blinked. “What?”

“If we’re going to go, then let’s get on with it,” Todoroki interjected. Seeing no way out, he had no choice but to embrace his plight and adapt. Now, his goal was expediency.

Uraraka and Ashido cheered, grabbing Todoroki’s hands and dragging him down the stairs. Tokoyami followed, murmuring something to himself about knives and backs.

Just stay calm, Shouto. It’ll all turn out fine.

Blessedly, their destination was a mere five minute walk from campus, no trains required. Todoroki felt relieved, especially considering the obnoxious passengers that morning. The sun warmed his back pleasantly as he walked, and he inhaled deeply.

It was still a beautiful day, if nothing else.

Uraraka traced his line of vision, landing on the feathery clouds. She smiled. “Do you like the summertime, Todoroki?”

“I do.” The sun broke from behind its cloudy gate, and Todoroki had to redirect his gaze to the road. “A lot of people complain about the heat, but I can just keep myself comfortable with my quirk.”

“That’s so awesome! And so unfair!” Ashido pouted.

Todoroki shrugged.

“The only thing that makes life unfair is the delusion that it should be fair.”

Ashido rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Tokoyami, you have a freaking invincible shadow bird living inside of you.”

Despite himself, Todoroki found a smile pushing at the corner of his lips.

Golden arches cast an imposing shadow on the foursome, shimmering in the sunlight.

“Oh, I understand now,” Todoroki muttered, mostly to himself. “The ‘Mc’ in McFlurry is a reference to McDonalds.”

Uraraka eyed him warily. “I mean, yeah... How has someone as smart as you never put that together?”

Todoroki hummed. “Probably because I’ve never been to McDonald’s.”

“WHAT?!”

The synchronized shriek literally scared birds from their roosts on a telephone wire, wings flapping wildly. A flight-type quirk suddenly seemed very appealing to Todoroki.

“I said, I’ve never been to McDona-”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that.” Uraraka threw her hands up. “How not, though?! Were you raised under a rock?”

“No. I was raised in my home.”

Uraraka simply gaped at him.

“What a mad banquet of darkness,” Tokoyami supplied.

“Hey, now, we need to look at this as an opportunity!” Ashido threw her arms over Uraraka’s and Todoroki’s shoulders convivially. “We get to be the ones to see Mr. Blue Blood here pop his fast food cherry.” Todoroki cringed at the comparison, shaking off Ashido’s embrace. “Uraraka, Tokoyami, we have truly been blessed on this day."

“You’re right!” Uraraka smiled. “Let’s go, then! We should make Todoroki eat a McRib.”

Blessed, huh? Todoroki braced himself as they approached the restaurant, the vast unknown lying just behind smudged glass doors.

The first thing to hit Todoroki was the smell, a pungent mix of delight and horror. He could practically taste the grease in the air.

“So, Todoroki,” Ashido nudged his side. “First impressions?”

Mismatched eyes scanned the spectacle before him. “The space is somewhat… cluttered, yet also efficient. The smell is also quite thick.”

“Ahh, that’s the golden aroma of their ‘World Famous Fries’.” Uraraka clasped her chest. “They’re heavenly.”

A bold claim, certainly. Todoroki turned his attention to the menu boards. And was promptly stunned. “Holy hell, everything is so cheap!"

“Wow, Todoroki, that might be the most emotion I’ve heard in your voice, like, ever,” Ashido joked.

Uraraka was delighted. “I know, right, Todoroki? It’s perfect for a broke high school student like me.”

Todoroki made a tactical decision to not mention his vast checking account.

“So, what do you think you’ll get?”

Todoroki scanned the menu once more. “I’m still deciding.”

“Take your time,” Ashido nodded reassuringly. “Nobody’s first time should be rushed.”

“Mine was,” Tokoyami said, and was met with complete silence.

“I think I’m ready to order,” Todoroki declared, strategically.

Uraraka ordered a Big Mac, a ‘splurge’ in her words, which made Todoroki even more secure in his decision to not draw attention to his finances. Ashido took the road less travelled by ordering McNuggets, and Tokoyami stuck true to his values by ordering a salad.

Todoroki stepped up to the counter, inexplicably nervous. He had faced countless villains, defeated the infamous Hero Killer, even taken two freaking knives to the arm, yet here he was, stumbling over the order he had rehearsed 7 times in his head.

“A, um, quarter pounder with cheese. Except, can I take off the onions, mustard, and onions? Fuck, I meant - ah shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to cuss. And a small fountain frink - drink - please.”

Todoroki wanted to die. The cashier, a girl about his age with bright green eyes, smiled benevolently. “Don’t worry about it. So, no onion or mustard?”

“Yes, please. And no pickle. Please.” The girl’s nametag read ‘Suzuki’, decorated with little squiggles.

“So demanding,” she joked, eyeing Todoroki. “But I can make it happen. Has anybody ever told you that you have incredible eyes?”

Behind him, Uraraka stopped munching on her fries. “Yes,” Todoroki replied. “One of my doctors said heterochromia affects less than .67% of the population, so I was an ‘incredible’ case.”

Suzuki giggled, much to Todoroki’s confusion. He’d been serious. “So, you’re quite a standout, huh?” She leaned onto her cash register.

“Statistically, yes.”

“Mmm,” her own green eyes flashed, and Todoroki found himself enjoying their color. Old habits. “What’re the stats on me getting your number, then?”

Todoroki stared down at his order ticket, #73. “I’d say 100%. Don’t I need to give it to you to get my food?”

Ashido choked on her drink.

“Well, yes,” Suzuki soldiered on. “But I was more talking about your phone number.”

“Oh.” Green eyes occupied Todoroki’s attention again, but this time they didn’t belong to Suzuki. “I’d, um, prefer not to.”

“Aw, damn,” Suzuki sighed, but good-naturedly. “I can’t say I'm surprised, though. Already got a special somebody?”

A spotlight may as well have been shone on Todoroki. No signs of movement were evident behind Todoroki, and he could practically feel Uraraka, Ashido, and Tokoyami’s eyes on the back of his head.

Todoroki may not have any idea what the hell was going on, but he knew questions initiated what the kids called a Bad Time. Sure enough, a godforsaken throbbing emerged in Todoroki’s temples, and he stiffened.

“I, um.” Todoroki unconsciously crumbled his order ticket in his fist. “That depends on what you mean by ‘already got’.”

“Ahh.” Suzuki winced sympathetically. “You stuck in the friend zone?”

Crap, another question. And a painful one, at that. “It...seems that way,” Todoroki forced.

“Well, I think they’re missing the hell out, whoever they are. They must be crazy to pass up on a .67 in a hundred guy like you.”

Suzuki was smiling, and the sincere kindness in her green eyes made Todoroki sigh - a little close to home . “‘Crazy’ isn't too far off, actually.” Midoriya’s mad grin at their first sports festival flashed through Todoroki’s head, and fondness traced the fairest hint of a smile on his lips. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Suzuki winked, and handed him a bag that was practically dripping with grease. “Try not to get diabetes too quickly, now.”

Unexpectedly, Todoroki made it a solid four bites into his burger before the interrogation began.

The first introduced Todoroki to the surprisingly delicious taste of the famed Big Mac, and he give himself a split second to surrender himself to the lovely flavor of grease before switching gears to more pressing matters.

Bite two was marked by the illumination of a mental lightbulb. His inability to make excuses, his adverse reaction to avoiding questions...there was no way it was just coincidence, it couldn't be.

By bite three, Todoroki was convinced - as crazy as it sounded - that he was unable to lie. He didn't know how, or why, or even if his theory was correct, but the puzzle pieces seemed to point to that, if not a very similar, picture.

A picture where Todoroki was trapped with two talkative classmates and a shadow demon’s host in a fast food chain, unable to dodge questions or rely on trusty old Awkward Silence.

Bite four was quite hard to swallow.

Now - cue the interrogation.

“Sooo, Todoroki…” Ashido grinned, dangerously, and Todoroki could already hear his funeral bells. “You like someone, huh?”

He forced his bite of burger down. “Yes. And wasn’t the whole point of this trip to make fun of my reaction to a cheap burger or something?”

Yes, change the subject. Easy. He could do this.

“Originally, yeah.” Ashido leaned forward. “But now, more pressing matters have arisen.”

Damn, he couldn't do this.

“You mean you haven’t noticed before?” Uraraka rolled her eyes. “You just saw a perfect example of Todoroki’s social prowess, and you think he’d be able to hide a crush?”

Ashido burst out laughing, spewing bits of chicken nuggets. “Oh my god, your little eye statistics. My abs were aching .”

“I, too, felt I underwent a satisfactory abdominal workout.” Tokoyami - that traitor - pitched in.

Todoroki frowned. “I’m right here, you know.”

“...No offense.” Uraraka patted his arm.

“Uraraka makes a good point.” Tokoyami dapped at the ranch on his beak with a napkin. “Todoroki does not interact naturally with people, like oil suspended in a sea of water.”

The burger in Todoroki’s hands sagged.

“The both of you are right,” Ashido nodded. “Which is why we need to help him! Todoroki, who do you like?”

Todoroki panicked, dropping his burger with a wet flop. Like hell he was going to tell this peanut gallery. Knowing Ashido, she'd probably take it upon herself to lock Todoroki and Midoriya in a closet until they made out, or something. A definite no-go.

“Someone in our class.” Alright, no pain jumpkicked Todoroki’s skull - vague answers seemed to check out.

“Well, duh.” Ashido flapped her hand. “Do you even keep up with anybody our age outside of U.A.?”

“No.”

Wow, this quirk was kind of -

“Any friends from childhood?”

“...No.”

-depressing.

“Oh, ok!” Ashido tried to recover with awkwardly forced enthusiasm. “I'm glad that we get to be your first friends, then! You've had fun, I hope?”

“Once I got past the initial awkwardness, yes, I have made many fond memories,” Todoroki babbled, then inwardly groaned. He was oversharing. It must be part of the condition.

Uraraka raised an eyebrow. “What initial awkwardness?”

“During first year, I had absolutely no idea how to interact. Once, I accidentally called Kouda ‘Gouda’, like the cheese, and I was too embarrassed to talk to him again for 4 months. That's just one example.”

“Oh my god,” Uraraka whispered. “He always asked us if we thought that you were trying to intimidate him.”

Todoroki groaned - outwardly, this time. “I'm the worst. How am I ever supposed to become close with M- er, my crush if I can't even flirt with a random cashier?”

He didn't know why he was actively slapping his heart on his sleeve like this - maybe it had to do with his current predisposition towards honesty - but he allowed himself to continue.

“I'm just, I never have any idea what the hell I’m doing, and they're so, so incredible , so far out of my league that it’s laughable. I don't even know how to begin.”

Uraraka patted his shoulder. “I can't be sure who you're talking about, Todoroki, but that cashier was right. You can't sell yourself short. And I don't just mean appearance-wise,” she teased.

“You'll always have good ole Twitter as a confidence booster,” Ashido added, sagely.

“Inner beauty is great, but a little mascara never hurt.”

Todoroki blinked. “But I don't even wear make-up?”

“I think,” Uraraka chimed in, “what Tokoyami was trying to say is that you're the whole package, Todoroki! Whoever it is that you're interested in, you should tell them how you feel!”

“Yes!” Ashido balled a fist in conviction. “Love is the spice of life! What have you got to lose?”

“A meaningful friendship, a large chunk of self-confidence, the relative ease of interaction between my crush and I, and a huge amount of sleep.”

“Well, alright, it sounds pretty dismal when you put it that way. But between you and me, Todoroki,” Uraraka leaned over to whisper to Todoroki. “If it’s a certain green-eyed dude with no sense of self-preservation like I think it is, then I wouldn't worry about it at all. If I were you.”

Todoroki’s heart bungee jumped into his gut, springing back up into his throat. “What?” he choked.

“You heard me,” Uraraka smirked.

“And I didn't!” Ashido protested loudly. “Secrets are no fair. Right, Tokoyami?” She grabbed his shoulders and started whispering obvious gibberish into the side of his head. “Wait, do you even have ears?”

Todoroki took in the scene absently, mind still hooked on the fact that Uraraka, one of Midoriya’s closest friends, felt confident that Midoriya, well...Todoroki wasn’t quite sure, actually, but it was definitely good news, no matter how vague. Right?

“So, Todoroki, how are you gonna confess?” Ashido asked, yanking Todoroki’s attention back before he could delve too deep into fantasy over Uraraka’s words. “Are you gonna go for a classic approach like a rooftop or just suddenly dip her into a kiss one day?”

And just like that, Todoroki plunged neck deep into fantasy again. “I, I.” His ears burned. “No, I'm not planning to do either.” ‘Her’ , Ashido had said, and Todoroki deemed it in his best strategic interest to not correct her.

“Aww, boo.” Ashido gave a thumbs down. “And you haven’t even told me who it is, which is a double boo.”

“Let’s not boo Todoroki too harshly now,” Uraraka - his beautiful, shining guardian angel - intervened. “Not everybody likes to share like Kirishima.”

“Bakuuu~” Ashido crooned, and Tokoyami smiled into his salad.

“Exactly. So, for the sake of privacy, let’s call Todoroki’s mystery crush by a codename. Like Toyota!”

And just like that, the guardian angel lost her wings.

“Please, I’d rather not talk at all about...Toyota.”

“They have excellent crash safety ratings,” Tokoyami said.

“The same can’t be said for Todoroki’s Toyota,” Uraraka mumbled, and Todoroki glared at her.

“I think this Toyota talk has been a long time coming, Todoroki.” Ashido rested her chin in her hands. “I mean, what was your plan? Were you just gonna live your life infatuated with someone from the sidelines, staring at them longingly like some really cute outfit in a shop window that you know you’ll never be able to afford so you just cry in bed at night thinking about how great it would have looked on you?”

“What a concise simile,” Tokoyami sniped.

Todoroki sighed. “Yes.” Because that was the truth, wasn't it? If he kept going as he was, he and Midoriya’s fates were sealed as parallel rather than intertwined. Somehow, admitting it out loud made Todoroki feel rather…

“Wimpy.” Ashido tutted. “That’s kinda wimpy, dude. No offense.”

“None taken,” Todoroki attempted, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I’m always happy to help! If you want, I can lock you and Toyota in a storage room closet or something until you inevitably start making out.”

Aaand there it was.

“In my opinion, you should scribe this Toyota a heartfelt letter, spill your very soul onto the ink, and deliver it personally with care so that you may await their response with bated breath.”

Todoroki relaxed a bit. That scenario actually sounded quite pleasant, really. “I’m grateful for the advice, Tokoyami.”

Tokoyami nodded. “Of course, after receiving your joyous response, you shall then proceed to make out, passionately.”

“Why is everyone so adamant that I make out with T...Toyota?!” A nearby customer shot Todoroki a concerned look, and he debating sinking under the table.

Uraraka laughed as Ashido grinned. “Aww, Todoroki, you're blushing! Thinking about sucking face with Toyota?”

“Yes!” Todoroki croaked, and fuck his voice for cracking, honestly. “And holding hands, and cuddling, and sparring until we fall on top of each other like always, but this time I’ll actually move forward and, um. Nevermind.”

“So you have thought about it, after all?” Ashido looked triumphant.

“Of course I've thought about it.” Todoroki’s voice softened. “I've thought about it every night for nearly two years.”

For a few moments, Todoroki’s only response was the beeping of cash registers and whir of industrial air conditioning.

“Two years?”

And if Uraraka had sounded incredulous, Todoroki couldn't find it in him to blame her, because it was kind of shocking, really. Admitting aloud just how long he'd had feelings for Midoriya made it seem all the longer, all the more real. “Yeah. Pretty long, huh.”

The cash registers kept on beeping. Todoroki sighed.

Then jumped out of his own skin when Ashido slammed her fist onto her plastic tray, voice raised in conviction. “Then that's all the more reason to make a move! You’re gonna go back to school, and you're gonna ask Toyota out! Now, who are you?”

“Todoroki Shouto,” he whispered, still a little alarmed.

“Nope, you gotta say it like you mean it. Now, who are you?!”

“...Todoroki Shouto!” Another customer glared at Todoroki, and he shrunk into his seat.

“Damn straight you are! And now that that's settled, the three of us are gonna help you make all your dreams come true. Right?”

“Right!” Uraraka giggled. Tokoyami inclined his head.

Todoroki felt embarrassed, helpless, and a tap on his shoulder as a girl with navy blue hair suddenly appeared at their table, with impressive stealth. “Did you say that you're Todoroki Shouto?”

“Hell yeah!” Ashido exclaimed, still in motivation-mode as Todoroki confirmed his identity with a sinking feeling.

“Oh my god!” Navy Hair squealed, and retreated to another table, chock-full of prepubescent girls. She pointed in their direction, and a dissonant chorus of shrieks followed.

“It’s time to go.”

Uraraka pouted. “But we didn’t even get you a McFlurry-”

"Now .”

When the gaggle of girls arrived at Todoroki’s table, their only greeting was three unused ketchup packets.

The walk home was marked by a tempest in Todoroki’s gut, and he wasn't sure how much he could blame on the Big Mac.

Ashido and Tokoyami occupied themselves arguing over the fine line between goth and scene, and Uraraka turned to face Todoroki, brown hair swaying.

“Is it nice to constantly have to outrun hordes of fans?”

“No. In fact, their ever-increasing presence has put me on edge in public lately, and I get nervous.”

“...Oh.”

Silence reigned after that, excepting Ashido and Tokoyami’s heated debate, and Todoroki sighed into the warm air. Christ, what a mess this whole impromptu affair had been, from the cashier, to customers likely thinking that Todoroki had a hard-on for his car, to Uraraka telling Todoroki not to worry about liking Midoriya.

Wait . Todoroki stopped in his tracks, then zeroed in on the messenger herself, walking with her hands in her pockets.

“Uraraka,” he called, jogging slightly to catch up. “You remember what you said earlier about me not needing to worry about Midoriya?”

She twirled her hair with her pointer finger. “Ah, yeah, I do.”

“Is there any way you could explain what you meant?” he asked, failing to tamp out an excited edge as his stupid, smitten brain began anticipating her response, jumping to conclusions.

“Yes, of course, Todoroki!” Dream Uraraka beamed. “I was just saying that Midoriya is deeply in love with you and wants to date immediately and kiss in the locker room and let you play with his hair!”

Real Uraraka opened her mouth. Todoroki felt his chest flutter. “Nope,” she stated - simply, devastatingly.

Todoroki could practically hear his hopes shattering.

Uraraka must have heard it, too, because she smiled sympathetically. “I'm sorry, Todoroki, but I made a promise that I fully intend to keep. I’ve already run my mouth too much. You’re a smart guy, though. I’m 100% sure you’ll be able to work things out on your own.” Her smile shifted into an encouraging one.

“But-” A buzz in Todoroki’s pocket cut him off, and he pulled out his phone.

Midoriya Izuku:

>>> how’s the face???

Todoroki kept his phone close to his chest, inexplicably nervous. It buzzed again.

>>> hopefully not too bruised to keep random hordes of girls from attacking

>>> or maybe thats a good thing ?

“What’s got you all smiley, Todor- oh my god.” Ashido peered at the phone cradled against his chest and broke out into a dangerous grin. Suddenly, his nerves didn’t seem so inexplicable anymore. “You’re texting Toyota, aren’t you?”

Shit. Todoroki may just end up shoved into a closet with Midoriya, yet. “..Yeah.”

Before Todoroki could even react, Tokoyami appeared out of genuine fucking nowhere beside Todoroki. “It’s Midoriya Izuku,” he reported, straightlaced, straightforward, straight to the point.

The common syllable, of course, being in direct opposition to a certain Todoroki Tidbit that had just been exposed to an incredulous Ashido, her black eyes popping.

“No fucking way…” She abandoned Uraraka to join Tokoyami beside Todoroki. “Holy shit,” she whispered, eyes glued to the phone. “I’ve been such a fool - I don’t know how I didn’t see it. The gym fire makes so much sense now!”

“The important thing is that nobody got hurt!” Uraraka piped up, across from the three of them.

“Let’s really not talk about that, please.”

“You’re right, Todoroki, there are more important things to attend to. Like the fact that the Twitter heartthrob himself bats for the other team. I think we should take a moment of silence for all the broken hearts of Todoroki’s fangirls,” Ashido stated solemnly.

Tokoyami bowed his head in respect. Uraraka missed the entire point by laughing.

And Todoroki just stood helplessly, the conversation completely out of his control.

Then lept out of his skin when his phone was swiftly swiped from his hand, Ashido whooping victoriously.

“I’m gonna text him~” she sang, and fear drenched Todoroki’s very core.

“Don’t.” He pled, desperately.

“Do.” She retorted, mercilessly. “Now which pickup line should I send him: the appendix one or the bandaid one?”

“I enjoy the appendix one,” Tokoyami voted, and Todoroki knew it was only a matter of seconds before his most valued friendship lay in shambles.

It was pure adrenaline, then, that made him lunge. Pure survival instinct that made him grab for the phone, right as Ashido was typing.

Ashido - damn her - dodged, holding the phone behind her back and cackling. Todoroki lunged again, seemingly to the right, but then changing to the left at the last moment. With a loud smack, he took hold of the top of the phone.

“That was a well-executed feint,” Tokoyami praised.

The perpetrator squawked, but maintained her grip. Todoroki yanked at the device - Christ, was Uraraka literally on the ground laughing in the background? - yanked with all his might.

“I’m trying to help you!” Ashido gasped, eyes twinkling a bit too much for her intentions to be merely altruistic.

“And I don’t want to be helped by talking like Kaminari!”

Ashido snorted at that, losing focus just enough for Todoroki to concentrate all his strength into one final tug.

The phone - he’d gotten it back! Todoroki released a huge sigh of relief and stuffed it into his pocket.

Then stiffened as a muffled, disembodied voice trickled from his pocket. “Hello?”

Swearing under his breath, Todoroki pulled out the godforsaken device. A full-screen photo of a smiling Midoriya affronted him, along with the knowledge that he must have accidentally dialed Midoriya up during his struggle with Ashido.

Fucking hell, couldn’t the universe cut him a single break?!

“Shouto? Are you there?”

“Yep!” His voice squeaked out on the wrong side of puberty, and Uraraka fell back down onto the street.

“Shouto?” Ashido mouthed, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Todoroki’s cheeks glew red. Of course they’d be able to hear Midoriya talking.

“Oh alright! It seemed like you may have called on accident.”

“Oh yeah. That’s because I did.”

“Oh, haha.”

“Ha, yeah.”

Todoroki stood there awkwardly, toeing at the road.

“What inspiring dialogue,” Tokoyami deadpanned.

“For real, dude, this is horrible,” Ashido whispered fiercely. “Say something funny. Flirt!”

As if he could ever pull that off. Todoroki consulted the asphalt, mind coming up blank. “So, uh, do you prefer a Frosty or McFlurry?”

Oh god, he instantly regretted that one. Uraraka, who had only just stood back up, collapsed against a (rightfully) unimpressed Ashido, shaking violently.

“Probably a Frosty. They’re cheaper.” From her slump on top of Ashido, Uraraka fist pumped. “What about you?”

“I’ve actually never had either.”

“Oh! Haha, that’s too bad. To be honest though, I can’t really remember the last time I had either.”

“Ask him on a date!!” Ashido whisper-yelled.

Tokoyami nodded. “A perfect tactical opening.”

But instead of doing just that, of following perhaps the only sound advice he’d been offered all day, Todoroki glared and covered his free ear. He’d had it to hell and back with making a fool of himself publicly.

“I know, I know, the tragedy must have shocked you into silence,” Midoriya joked, and Todoroki felt fuzzy.

“Ah, not quite.”

Midoriya laughed. The fuzziness increased. “That’s cold.”

Forgetting his audience, Todoroki hummed. “Hopefully, sometimes cold is a good thing.”

A muffled cough echoed through the receiver. “Of course I like - I mean, cold things are awesome. And hot things too! Like, uh, I enjoy the winter and summer a lot separately, so if they came together or something it would be amazing. Yep.”

“You’re so in there,” Ashido giggled.

“Very much so,” Tokoyami agreed, and Uraraka flashed the ok gesture with a huge grin.

Todoroki’s face blazed even brighter. It was high time to end this call before he slipped again.

“Alright, well I think I’m going to go now. Sorry for bothering you.”

“You never bother me, Shouto,” Midoriya’s voice crackled cheerfully, and Ashido awww’ed. “Seeya later!”

“Bye, love you.” Todoroki hung up calmly.

...

Then promptly dropped his phone, swaying violently on his feet.

Dark Shadow instantly darted out to catch the phone, and Todoroki would’ve been grateful if it wasn’t for the tiny little fact that his entire world had just ended.

“Oh my god,” he whispered distantly.

Nearly instantly, his phone buzzed again, and when Todoroki made no move to take it, to react in any way, to continue living, Uraraka grabbed it herself.

“Oh my god,” he repeated. Even Dark Shadow seemed to be cringing in secondhand embarrassment.

“Midoriya wants to, uh,” Uraraka spoke softly, like a paramedic to a victim in shock. “He wants to know if you said that by accident.” Then, more to herself. “He’s probably halfway to actual physical combustion.”

“Oh my god.” Todoroki swayed again, still a little hung up on the most mortifying blunder in his entire life. This made the gym fire look like a barrel of fun. “I just, I just told Midoriya that I’m in love with him. Then hung up.”

“The instant hang up was a little cruel. Although I guess I have to respect just going for it like that. Even if it wasn’t romantic at all. Like, at all.”

Todoroki faced Ashido with panicked eyes. “I didn’t mean to say it! It, it was just on my mind and it slipped out on its own and…”

Wait . A predilection to say what he was thinking…

“Fuck ,” he groaned, with real feeling.

Meanwhile, Uraraka’s own phone began buzzing up a storm, and she raised her eyebrows as she scanned the messages. “You really should explain yourself, Todoroki. Before cardiac arrest comes into play.”

Shit, she was right. Numbly, he took back his phone and opened his text window with Midoriya.

>>> hey did i hear u wrong or did u just say ‘love u’ hahahahahah

>>> thats pretty funny dude, A+ joke, 10/10, top of the line there buddy

>>> it was just like by habit right?? Right?????

>>> once i called all might Dad ahahahancxknvkvnxd can u believe it?? hes not actually my dad !!1! crazy!

Then, curiously, a message of all blank spaces.

>>> I’m sorry about those prior messages, Shouto! I’d appreciate it greatly if you disregarded them :) Thank you!

“I need to change schools,” Todoroki croaked, shriveling inside. Why, oh why hadn’t he just stuck with the appendix pickup line?

“Before you do that, though, could you please text Midoriya back?” Uraraka glanced at her phone. “Thank god I paid for unlimited messages...”

“What should I say?! ‘Oh hey Midoriya, it’s Todoroki. I know I just accidentally admitted that I’m in love with you but have you done the homework for Monday?’”

“Is an unfortunate Freudian slip really the manner in which you want to reveal your feelings?” Tokoyami raised a respective eyebrow.

“Of course not!” Todoroki scrambled to find the words. “Midoriya - he deserves the world. Or at least a goddamn bouquet. Anything but this.”

“Then brush this off as an accident - as it genuinely was - move on, and focus on crafting a confession you deem worthy of Midoriya.”

“And my closet offer still stands, by the way,” Ashido added, effectively squelching the composure Todoroki had gained from Tokoyami’s words.

Drawing a deep breath, he unlocked his phone. There was no need in prolonging the inevitable.

<<< I’m sorry for not replying until now

<<< I didn’t intend to say... what I said

<<< like you guessed, it was an accident, and quite an embarrassing one

<<< I apologize for any confusion.

“Goddamn, Todoroki, you’re texting a friend, not drafting a business email.”

Todoroki ignored Ashido and opened Midoriya’s near-instant reply.

>>> oh haha thats what i thought!

>>> dont worry about it dude, no big deal :D

Todoroki shoved his phone back into his pocket, and began making his unsteady way back towards campus.

Uraraka’s phone buzzed the entire way.

Twenty minutes later, Todoroki sped through his long-awaited shower, that disastrous “ love you” looping endlessly through his mind. He shampooed with much more vigor than necessary.

Twenty five minutes later, Todoroki received a text from Uraraka.

>>> your ass is lucky that i also upgraded to unlimited minutes

Thirty minutes later, Kouda was surprised to discover the men’s bathing facility practically dripping with steam, and a thick slush of ice coating the bottom of one of the showers.

Thanks for reading! :D

#ayo #bnha fanfiction #tododeku fanfiction #todoroki shouto/midoriya izuku #my writing #poor todoroki lmao

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eyecontvct · 7 years

Text

Sexual deviant. Depraved. Disgusting. His own ex had called him all of those.

He enjoyed it. Some sick part of him enjoyed the attention, as perversely disgusted as it was, and sometimes he wanted nothing more than to just tear into himself and end it.

But, of course, he couldn't.

All he could do was indulge himself in humans, the weak ones, and bleed them for every last drop. Every single human he drank the blood from was the same; a little bland, lukewarm. Unsatisfying.

He gladly got fucked up with them, danced, flirted, happily entertained as a host or a guest, became the life of the party, but nobody who follows the most beautiful person at a party into the back room to do lines of coke and fuck is a content boy.

His fingers closed around his own throat, partly willing the torture to stop, but partly desperate for more. He knew it wouldn't kill him. Shit, he barely needed to breathe. He just enjoyed the way they looked at him.

He loved the way it felt, having two people, anyone, he couldn't remember their names, look at him with pity and shame, a little disgust. It sent a thrill through his whole body.

"Harder," he choked out hoarsely, nearly falling into the poor human below him. Harder. The thrust came harder, hitting him deeper, and the cord around his neck was going to slice it off. He wanted it to. Their reactions would be priceless.

A hoarse groan of utter pain and pleasure left his lips as stars dotted his vision, orgasm ripping through him and leaving him melted, shivering, twitching and gasping his little white flag.

The guy behind him breathed a long, steady 'fuck' into the sticky air, letting go of Felix and gently grinding to a halt. Felix's heart was racing still, so hard he could hear it, and it seemed that every time he moved his body twitched its protest.

The woman below him whined something about unfairness, and before he knew it he was fucking her like his life depended on it, the high still not worn off. The steel of a knife scraped his skin and he could do nothing but groan out a plea for more. He wanted them to destroy him.

It all felt better once they'd shared more lines and gone their separate ways, Felix a little sore but happy.

It was only when he got back to his dorm room that he realised how fucked up he was. He looked a mess, hair dishevelled, eyes wild, whole body twitching and excited. The whole world was slowed down, and he was wired, buzzing - he could do anything.

The comedown was horrible. The depression set in around 2am and sat like a haze on his night. He'd meant to go to a party but he couldn't bring himself to stand up. Friends came round, told him he needed to get some sleep and have a shower, but none stayed. More important shit to do.

3am. He'd been staring at the wall for the last hour.

He stood, stumbled to the bathroom, and wondered why seeing blood drip from his nose didn't shock him. He looked a mess, and he felt a mess. When his phone rang, however, the shock was so bad he nearly cried.

"Fuck," he breathed, wiping away tears and blood - of course he only made it worse. "Yeah? What."

"Oh," said the voice on the other end. Felix stared at his own reflection. Don't freak out on her. "Glad to hear your voice too. You gonna come to your own party?"

Shit, it was so hard. It was so, so hard to believe that she really wanted him there, that any of his friends really gave a shit about his health, that she actually cared. Why would they? He looked like shit - ugly, depraved, unkempt, disgusting. He wanted to put a hole through his reflection. Two fingers to his head. Bang.

"Felix?"

"Uh, yeah, what- what, uh, what're you doing? Right now."

She'd be able to hear the tremble in his voice. If she noticed, only her tone changed. "Oh, uh... Getting drinks. We were kind of late. It's gonna die without you."

Felix's back hit the wall. He slid down it, slowly, slowly, until he was on the floor, one hand in his matted hair. "Hey, O-Ophelia," he said quietly, "do you- do you think... You know what, fuck it."

"I'm sorry? Felix, are you okay? Are you crying?"

"No. Yeah. Shit. Listen. I'm- I'm sorry." "What for? What did you do?" "Shit, no, I'm fucked up. Right now."

"Stay on the line, yeah?"

His chest felt like it was going to cave in. Everything was pressing, holding him down.

His phone clattered to the side as he took a second to retch - somehow nothing coming up made it feel so much worse. A whine of a groan left his body, every pore of his skin itchy and uncomfortable.

"Felix? I'm coming upstairs."

"No, wait, please, nononono-" He scrambled to get his phone, pleading with her, begging, sounding pathetic even to himself. Tears welled up again, but this time they broke forth in sobs. "Please. Please. I'm so- don't want you to- please-"

“Tough, I'm here."

She hung up, and panic reared its nasty head. She couldn't see him like this. Nobody could. His door opened and he just covered his face, his head, wishing he could just be swallowed up. Maybe he should have just overdone it.

"Felix, shit, what happened?"

Ophelia stood at the door, and all Felix saw was an angel.

"Guys, go back downstairs."

"What's up with him?"

"Nothing, just go back downstairs, fuck."

The door shut, finally, and Felix was alone with the most beautiful being he'd ever seen. He didn't really deserve to be in her presence. Every curve was fantastic, every shadow and highlight perfect. He'd never wanted to see anyone less.

"Ophelia," he heard himself saying, "am I... Am I ugly?"

She stood still for a moment. She was too bright to look at until she collapsed to her knees in next to him, grabbing a tissue from her purse and dabbing it to his eyes, his chin, his nose. "You're the most beautiful boy I've ever met," she said quietly, holding his face so gently all he could feel were tingles. Her eyes searched his, though he was sure she wouldn't like the snarling, wounded, angry monster she saw. He kind of wanted her to hate him, just so he could have something to cling to.

"I'm-" he began, though he bit his lip and drew blood. More he didn't want. He hadn't eaten properly in days, maybe a week, and wearing sunglasses in school and pretending it wasn't a big deal wasn't doing much. "Just say you hate me. I- need it."

"What? Felix, where is this coming from? This isn't you- are you hungry?" she asked desperately, dropping the straps of her dress and bra, shifting her hair until he could see her exposed flesh. It called to him, but his stomach turned and he felt like throwing up again. He made a face and pushed her aside gently, leaning over the toilet bowl and nearly throwing up more. Nothing.

"Sorry," he sniffed hoarsely, wiping his nose on the back of his hand and putting her dress straps back onto her shoulder. "Guess not."

She was looking at him with such pity it almost made him want to cry some more. "Come here," she said quietly, standing and gently pulling him to his feet. He stumbled after her, shuddering with each step - shit, he was freezing.

She sat on the bed and pulled a blanket around his shoulders, pulling him closer until his head was resting on her chest. "You're far from ugly, baby. You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

She was stroking his hair, even as he felt the wave of shame rip through him and he gripped her dress, finally letting the sobs out, tears finally streaming like they'd never stop. "I'm a mess," he sobbed, pulling back to notice his nose was bleeding again, onto her dress, staining it forever. She was going to hate him for sure. "Shit, fuck, I'm so sorry, I-"

She shrugged. "Didn't like this dress. Friends said it made me look fuckable."

That made him laugh, at least. It came out like a little chuckle which turned into a sad, choked laugh. He kind of felt better for having someone there - why her, he didn't know, but it was nice. "Thanks for helping me out," he said quietly, hugging the blanket tighter around him and leaning back on her chest. "I, uh... Have days... Like this. Sometimes. Sorry. I'll be fine."

"What brought this on, though?"

She did seem genuinely concerned, which was nice. Strange, but nice.

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