#and fucking nuked the door

[lastoneout]

me trying to solve a problem in literally any fantasy game

#dunmeshi #my breath of the wild playthrough was very “oops all explosions” #in skyrim I use console commands to duplicate jzargo's fucked up explosion scroll and use it ALL the time even though it also damages me #I couldn't figure out how to unlock a door once in dnd and I just cast magic missile #got at nat 20 #and fucking nuked the door #explosions solve problems #dungeon meshi #marcille dungeon meshi

[silenthillbunni]

#fiona apple 'no hope for women no hope for women no hope for women' #that poor poor girl #we're gonna start seeing real fucked up shit #raising boys to be more violent little sex predator rapists than ever before #and omg all these poor girls #im still traumatized reading an article abt #a 15yr old boy locking himself in the bathrrom with a 3month old babygirl and RAPING HER #and the mom was trying to get inside so bad she even BIT and tried to chew the door #bro... nuke us. send the nukes!!!!!

[lord-pigeon]

Ya know everyone always shits on DS2 and while it's weak for a Souls game I feel it's a very good King's Field game

I also have very fond memories of it, despite its incredible jank, mostly because I actively played two parallel characters and it was super fun

#the mage nuked everything first quickly followed by my melee build right after #had this whole tragic story of trying to find one another and never quite reaching despite getting close #also aldias speech still slaps #fuck not having i-frames on doors tho #Bad

[conkreetmonkey]

Splatoon 3 is wild because imagine if you were living in Japan due to a recent economic and cultural boom, and suddenly a space shuttle with a mutant house-sized T-rex riding it suddenly burst from the center of Mt. Fuji and disappeared into space without explanation, and all you ever find out about what the fuck that was about is that Zuckerburg mysteriously disappeared the same day and was never seen again, but still "officially" ran Meta through an open secret Queen-Elizabeth-being-in-good-health gaslighting campaign, and everybody kind of suspected he may have been connected but never figured out anything conclusive.

Also the T-rex is now orbiting the earth in the fetal position like the guy from Jojo, and there are rumors of a substance that, if touched, turns you into a half-dinosaur monster. Nobody understands any of this but Meta employees just keep going to work and pretending Zuck still exists. The same 12 prerecorded voicelines constantly squak from the PA system.

Oddly, the statue in front of Meta HQ of a T-rex eating a human changes overnight into one of a giant human eating a tiny T-rex. Nobody noticed the switch, despite the statue being in a constantly bustling area. It happened shortly after the shuttle incident.

Jack Black's tiny clone, Lil' Jack, now wears a headset at all times and has been acting really shady since the incident. Also they're both hyperintelligent, immortal velociraptors found in an ancient cryogenic chamber who spend their days judging college football and eating the legally harvested flesh of hillbillies. Lil' Jack is probably plotting to kill Big Jack, but Big Jack doesn't seem to care, growing fat and lazy, sleeping on public benches in a bed of throw pillows. Also, he's very open about the fact that, as a velociraptor, humans look delicious, but he hasn't actually eaten anybody aside from the aforementioned hillbillies because he's civil.

Everyone is just expected to move on with their lives after this. This is normal to you.

The local art school was recently attacked by giant sea serpents, which were actually hideously bioengineered hillbillies, fulfilling a biblical doomsday prophecy, and they were driven back by Meta's army of minimum wage, part time child soldiers armed with warcrimey jury-rigged weaponry. The sea serpents had giant frying pans grafted into their mouths, which launched primitive tactical nukes made by filling garbage bags with their explosive blood. They still exist, and occasionally defend their comrades, but spend most of their time in the deep sea.

The local homeless emo twink everyone's attracted to is a closet millionaire who sells bootleg clothing in exchange for live rats, which he messily devours behind closed doors. He's also 8 feet tall and British and only has one eye.

North Korean refugees now flood the western world, after a greasy 14 year old hipster, under the guidance of Ariana Grande and Taylor Swift, beat Kim Jong Un in a mech battle, and the EDM remix of the Japanese national anthem they performed caused like half the soldiers to immediately realize North Korea sucks ass and defect. One of these individuals, 7 foot tall hypergenius, becomes a newscaster alongside a nepo baby rapper with dwarfism who likes to eat entire jars of mayo, and also they're a popular band. Also also, they may or may not be gay. Almost the entire population is gay, so this isn't a huge deal.

The new local newscasters are a famous Japanese lion tamer, an Indian girl with a bloodline trait allowing her to control snakes, and a Brazillian man the size of a smart car who exclusively communicates via grunts.

Gods, souls and zombies are objectively real, and you're effectively immortal because real-life respawning was invented a while ago. It works like a Keurig, but with mucus instead of coffee. Submersion in water kills you.

A good deal of the population is a hivemind. They pretend to be individuals for no reason.

Almost all men are now femboys.

Despite all this, you still have to go to work at 9 tomorrow.

#splatoon 3 #splatoon #splatoon fandom #splatpost #splatposting #splatoon lore #mr. grizz #new agent 3 #neo agent 3 #return of the mammalians

[scary-lasagna]

OH OH?’ YOU WRITE SCPS?! If you can, can I request Able (076) where he’s in love and dating SCP foundation worker reader?

My first SCP ask!! :] I haven't given Abel nor Cain much thought outside of Abel just assisting with breaches. Sorry I went a little crazy on the length!

SCP-076 - Abel

Abel is one of the more...difficult SCPs that you have researched.

You've been at this site longer than you can count back to, and even a previous site as well, before that one was nuked terribly.

And you've never met a creature such as him.

Whenever he wasn't killing people, he was pacing the viewing glass of his cell, staring at you.

You felt terrible, like a mouse being stalked by a lion.

Abel was always agitated, always angry, and the only time you've seen him smile was either when he was ripping out intestines, or, recently, when you shot him in the head with an automatic pistol.

It's freaky.

A part of you thinks that he wants to act on revenge.

Another, more human part of you, which is rare these days, almost suggests that he's looking at you with respect.

You were the only one to stop him without that explosive collar he wore in the past 5 years, after all. That had to count for something, right?

You had piles and piles of paper work pertaining to him, knowing him inside and out for the past 2 years.

And on the day of an MTF operation, you thought you were safe in your office. This was your first mistake, you should never feel safe in this field of work.

But in the midst of a small, harmless breach, Abel had launched himself through the locked security door of your office like a fucking looney-tune character.

And this was it. You would die. He would kill you, and you would be written off as another causality in this breach.

But lo and behold, a quite large axe materialized in his hand, and swung it right over your head, missing you by at most 3/4 of an inch.

SCP-439, an insect to bigger than 3 centimeters, had been the SCP to breach containment during MTF patrolling hours.

"You are safe now." His voice, husky, still held a certain gentleness as he spoke toward you.

And out of the two years of studying this creature, this violent, animalistic entity, you’ve never seen him act in such a cautious, intriguing manner.

The axe disappeared into the supposed pocket dimension of weapons, and he very unceremoniously grabbed your face on either side, cocking his head to stare you down.

You couldn’t move, didn’t have any last words to say, and you didn’t have that automatic pistol that saved your life last time.

This might be where you finally succumb to the horrors of the foundation.

But…Abel only studied you, taking in every little feature of your face, counting every eyelash and freckle and noting the way your nostrils flared with fear.

“I would not hurt you, Reasearcher. You are much too…unique. I would like to propose a-”

Not another word left his mouth, because it was shot off by the sudden wave of MTF entering your office.

So much for proposing a courting.

#sorry i went a little crazy #scp #scp x reader #scp 076 #abel x reader #scp abel #scp 076 x reader #scp abel x reader #creepypasta blog

[piratefishmama]

Fake It 'till You Make It | Part 1

The phone was ringing. It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday, and the phone was ringing. Eddie rolled over, pushing his face into his pillow in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he’d suffocate in the sweet embrace of his misshapen, well-loved pillow before whoever dared to call at such an ungodly hour, decided to give up.

No dice. However his uncle did seem to be answering it for him, bless that man, bless each and every one of his gray hairs.

“Eddie, up an at em, son! S’fer you!” Damn him. Damn him and all his gray hairs.

“Nggghhhh!!!!” Was his very coherent response

“It’s one of those kids’a yours!” Kids? He had kids? Oh shit he had kids, right. kids who should know better than to call at EIGHT. AM. AM. THE MORNING.

ON A SUNDAY.

Just inconsiderate really. He’d spent the majority of the previous night convincing the Gillespie’s that maybe their daughter didn’t actually need to get onto the endless carousel that was the dating scene.

Convincing them that maybe the dating pool was so batshit insane that it was for the best that she remain perfectly single for a little while longer. That maybe being single wasn’t nearly as bad as being with whatever the fuck Eddie Munson was.

Eddie had spent the entire evening referring to her father by his first name as it visibly pissed him off, called his daughter ‘sweet cheeks’ and slapped her ass as she left the room one too many times (any time more than zero times was too many times), offered her mother a joint to chill the fuck out, talked about his band incessantly, he’d gone all out on the ‘disrespectful sack of shit’ angle until he’d been forbidden to date their daughter.

Then listened with glee outside the door while they declared she was forbidden from dating for as long as it took to shake her from her ‘bad boy’ phase. A job well done, she’d slipped him the fifty bucks she owed for the night through the back window, and he was on his way. Fifty bucks better off!

Megan wasn’t having a bad boy phase. Megan was a lesbian waiting for the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of Hawkins. She just… couldn’t handle her parents constantly asking about her dating life. Or her lack of a dating life.

She was beautiful, the picture of stereotypical femininity, they had no idea why their daughter wasn’t snagging one of the rich Loch Nora guys like a Harrington, or a Johnson, or even one of the B grade rich guys like Hagan, or Peters.

She was too busy with a Holloway.

Then the following hours before he’d eventually passed out, he’d been slowly working through memorizing the chorus tabs of an Iron Maiden song he’d been meaning to learn for one of the covers used to bulk up Corroded Coffin’s sets. Jeff already had his parts down, Eddie had been lagging.

“M’not here!”

“Says it’s important!”

“Tell em I’m dead!”

There was a pause, and then his bedroom door was opening, and a cushion was thrown at his head, forcing him upright to shout his indignation to the world while his uncle stood there stern and unimpressed “Boy get your backside up an talk to y’damn friends.”

“Nghhh, fine.” He was up anyway. The phone ringing had woken him up. It’d take a miracle to fall back into a full snooze now. He shoved his blankets aside, trudged past his uncle, and snagged the phone from where Wayne had left it on the little table by the window. “Whomever this may be, I’m nuking your stats next session for the unholy crime of waking me up before noon.”

“But I’m calling about a job”

“Ahh, Henderson. Might as well just tear up the sheet for that little gnome now, kid.”

“He’s a dwarf and— ngh whatever, I needed to roll a new character anyway. Listen! I have a job for you, if you want it, one of your weird little rent a guy gigs” not something he was proud to have let slip around the kids. It could get weird if they made assumptions!

But if it got him an extra buck or two without having to do much other than be an over the top version of himself, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like he was selling his body or anything, just his funhouse personality.

“…Go on.”

“Okay so… don’t freak out, but… it’s a guy. He’s cool though!! Like, really cool, super chill, no danger to you what so ever.” That was fine, his ‘dates’ were usually fake but that didn’t erase the very real danger of being perceived by two of an older less cool generation that talked. “He knows it’s all fake so it’s just acting—"

“And this guy’s parents? How cool are they?” It wasn’t just faking a date, it was faking it in front of parents. Parents who usually weren’t about to approve of him when it was a heterosexual relationship. A Homosexual one? He really didn’t want to have to go through the real risks of hate crimes with a teenager, but Dustin clearly wasn’t getting the danger aspect there.

“I don’t know, I don’t really know them, but he says he can explain everything if you give him a chance, he’s free today, he even said he’d buy you breakfast if you meet him early!”

“…And he knows I’m a him, not a her, right?”

“Yeah, I said he was cool! The gay thing isn’t a big deal to him.”

“I’m not—” it was instinctual, Dustin didn’t know what he was, maybe he’d heard rumours, but he didn’t outright know that his dungeon master was a queer. Probably for the best, as lovely as Claudia Henderson was, she was very susceptible to accepting the crowdsourced opinion on things. She didn’t have her sons need to question everything.

She’d probably pull him from every Hellfire meet ever if Dustin let it slip that the guy in charge was queer.

“I know you’re not, but it’s fake right? it’s not like you guys have to do anything other than claim to be dating, right?” True… he never actually did anything with his ‘dates’. Usually just telling the parents they were dating was enough of a shock to the system to hide the lack of proof. The most he’d ever done was slap an ass here and there, maybe wrap an arm around a waist or two.

That was enough for the ‘traditional’ close minded Parents of Hawkins.

“…Fine, I’ll hear the guy out, but I’m only hearing him out alright! I’ll decide on whether or not I wanna take this job only after he explains, got it?”

“Got it!!”

“Alright, tell him to meet me at Benny’s in twenty.” Another quick confirmation and Eddie was hanging up the phone. so much for going back to sleep but at least he’d get a lovely breakfast out of it.

Part 3 

#PirateWrites #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon Alexa is a graduate of the Darth Vader MBA

Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

If you own an Alexa, you might enjoy its integration with IFTTT, an easy scripting environment that lets you create your own little voice-controlled apps, like "start my Roomba" or "close the garage door." If so, tough shit, Amazon just nuked IFTTT for Alexa:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/10/25/23931463/ifttt-amazon-alexa-applets-ending-support-integration-automation

Amazon can do this because the Alexa's operating system sits behind a cryptographic lock, and any tool that bypasses that lock is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, punishable by a 5-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. That means that it's literally a crime to provide a rival OS that lets users retain functionality that Amazon no longer supports.

This is the proverbial gun on the mantelpiece, a moral hazard and invitation to mischief that tempts Amazon executives to run a bait-and-switch con where they sell you a gadget with five features and then remotely kill-switch two of them. This is prime directive of the Darth Vader MBA: "I am altering the deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

So many companies got their business-plan at the Darth Vader MBA. The ability to revoke features after the fact means that companies can fuck around, but never find out. Apple sold millions of tracks via iTunes with the promise of letting you stream them to any other device you owned. After a couple years of this, the company caught some heat from the record labels, so they just pushed an update that killed the feature:

https://memex.craphound.com/2004/10/30/apple-to-ipod-owners-eat-shit-and-die-updated/

That gun on the mantelpiece went off all the way back in 2004 and it turns out it was a starter-pistol. Pretty soon, everyone was getting in on the act. If you find an alert on your printer screen demanding that you install a "security update" there's a damned good chance that the "update" is designed to block you from using third-party ink cartridges in a printer that you (sorta) own:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Selling your Tesla? Have fun being poor. The upgrades you spent thousands of dollars on go up in a puff of smoke the minute you trade the car into the dealer, annihilating the resale value of your car at the speed of light:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/23/how-to-fix-cars-by-breaking-felony-contempt-of-business-model/

Telsa has to detect the ownership transfer first. But once a product is sufficiently cloud-based, they can destroy your property from a distance without any warning or intervention on your part. That's what Adobe did last year, when it literally stole the colors from your Photoshop files, in history's SaaSiest heist caper:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

And yet, when we hear about remote killswitches in the news, it's most often as part of a PR blitz for their virtues. Russia's invasion of Ukraine kicked off a new genre of these PR pieces, celebrating the fact that a John Deere dealership was able to remotely brick looted tractors that had been removed to Chechnya:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

Today, Deere's PR minions are pitching search-and-replace versions of this story about Israeli tractors that Hamas is said to have looted, which were also remotely bricked.

But the main use of this remote killswitch isn't confounding war-looters: it's preventing farmers from fixing their own tractors without paying rent to John Deere. An even bigger omission from this narrative is the fact that John Deere is objectively Very Bad At Security, which means that the world's fleet of critical agricultural equipment is one breach away from being rendered permanently inert:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#deere-john

There are plenty of good and honorable people working at big companies, from Adobe to Apple to Deere to Tesla to Amazon. But those people have to convince their colleagues that they should do the right thing. Those debates weigh the expected gains from scammy, immoral behavior against the expected costs.

Without DMCA 1201, Amazon would have to worry that their decision to revoke IFTTT functionality would motivate customers to seek out alternative software for their Alexas. This is a big deal: once a customer learns how to de-Amazon their Alexa, Amazon might never recapture that customer. Such a switch wouldn't have to come from a scrappy startup or a hacker's DIY solution, either. Take away DMCA 1201 and Walmart could step up, offering an alternative Alexa software stack that let you switch your purchases away from Amazon.

Money talks, bullshit walks. In any boardroom argument about whether to shift value away from customers to the company, a credible argument about how the company will suffer a net loss as a result has a better chance of prevailing than an argument that's just about the ethics of such a course of action:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Inevitably, these killswitches are pitched as a paternalistic tool for protecting customers. An HP rep once told me that they push deceptive security updates to brick third-party ink cartridges so that printer owners aren't tricked into printing out cherished family photos with ink that fades over time. Apple insists that its ability to push iOS updates that revoke functionality is about keeping mobile users safe – not monopolizing repair:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

John Deere's killswitches protect you from looters. Adobe's killswitches let them add valuable functionality to their products. Tesla? Well, Tesla at least is refreshingly honest: "We have a killswitch because fuck you, that's why."

These excuses ring hollow because they conspicuously omit the possibility that you could have the benefits without the harms. Like, your tractor could come with a killswitch that you could bypass, meaning you could brick it at a distance, and still fix it yourself. Same with your phone. Software updates that take away functionality you want can be mitigated with the ability to roll back those updates – and by giving users the ability to apply part of a patch, but not the whole patch.

Cloud computing and software as a service are a choice. "Local first" computing is possible, and desirable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/03/there-is-no-cloud/#only-other-peoples-computers

The cheapest rhetorical trick of the tech sector is the "indivisibility gambit" – the idea that these prix-fixe menus could never be served a la carte. Wanna talk to your friends online? Sorry there's just no way to help you do that without spying on you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/08/divisibility/#technognosticism

One important argument over smart-speakers was poisoned by this false dichotomy: the debate about accessibility and IoT gadgets. Every IoT privacy or revocation scandal would provoke blanket statements from technically savvy people like, "No one should ever use one of these." The replies would then swiftly follow: "That's an ableist statement: I rely on my automation because I have a disability and I would otherwise be reliant on a caregiver or have to go without."

But the excluded middle here is: "No one should use one of these because they are killswitched. This is especially bad when a smart speaker is an assistive technology, because those applications are too important to leave up to the whims of giant companies that might brick them or revoke their features due to their own commercial imperatives, callousness, or financial straits."

Like the problem with the "bionic eyes" that Second Sight bricked wasn't that they helped visually impaired people see – it was that they couldn't be operated without the company's ongoing support and consent:

https://spectrum.ieee.org/bionic-eye-obsolete

It's perfectly possible to imagine a bionic eye whose software can be maintained by third parties, whose parts and schematics are widely available. The challenge of making this assistive technology fail gracefully isn't technical – it's commercial.

We're meant to believe that no bionic eye company could survive unless they devise their assistive technology such that it fails catastrophically if the business goes under. But it turns out that a bionic eye company can't survive even if they are allowed to do this.

Even if you believe Milton Friedman's Big Lie that a company is legally obligated to "maximize shareholder value," not even Friedman says that you are legally obligated to maximize companies' shareholder value. The fact that a company can make more money by defrauding you by revoking or bricking the things you buy from them doesn't oblige you to stand up for their right to do this.

Indeed, all of this conduct is arguably illegal, under Section 5 of the FTC Act, which prohibits "unfair and deceptive business practices":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

"No one should ever use a smart speaker" lacks nuance. "Anyone who uses a smart speaker should be insulated from unilateral revocations by the manufacturer, both through legal restrictions that bind the manufacturer, and legal rights that empower others to modify our devices to help us," is a much better formulation.

It's only in the land of the Darth Vader MBA that the deal is "take it or leave it." In a good world, we should be able to take the parts that work, and throw away the parts that don't.

(Image: Stock Catalog/https://www.quotecatalog.com, Sam Howzit; CC BY 2.0; modified)

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure

#pluralistic #alexa #ifttt #criptech #disability #drm #revocation #nothing about us without us #futureproofing #graceful failure #darth vader MBA #enshittification

[suratan-zir]

Russia spreads lies that tonight Ukrainian Armed Forces are going to strike ZNPP with a "missiles filled with radioactive waste". You know what it means. If they started a campaign of misinformation and blame shifting, they are planning to blow up the nuclear plant sometime soon.

And I know for sure that, as in the case of the Nova Kakhovka dam Russians blew up, there will be many people willing to believe that Ukraine is deliberately destroying its own territory and kiling its people. Tucker Carlson will make another video where he explains how Ukraine is killing itself, "independent" Western journalists will write about this crime as a "catastrophe in which both sides blame each other", like nothing's clear, maybe Ukraine really nuked itself, who the fuck knows.

Rafael Grossi (the head of the The International Atomic Energy Agency) will once again gladly shake hands with the Russian terrorists who seized the NPP and are storing explosives there (I love how we all sorta forgot how fucking insane it is that russia is allowed to do this), while other IAEA employees will once again give the occupiers warm hugs.

The only hope is that something will happen behind closed doors that will force Kremlin to change their plans. Maybe they are bluffing like they did last year with the "dirty bomb" nonsense. One can hope.

#zaporizhzhia npp #russian nuclear terrorism #ukraine #war in ukraine #russia is a terrorist state

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 2/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! light smut, language, Soldier boy being too rough

Word Count: 1121

A/N: This is part 2 of "His only exeption".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As quickly as Ben smashed his lips into yours, you couldn’t even understand what was happening. Your whole body was covered in goosebumps that Ben caused as he pressed you against the cool wall behind you. Unwitting, he tightened his grip on your upper arms until it hurt.

Before you could even return the kiss, you pressed your palms against his chest as hard as you could, trying to push Ben away from you. At the same time, you turned your head to the side, which surprised Ben enough to pull his head back.

“The fuck, Ben! What’s wrong with you!”, you breathed, shocked and slightly disappointed. Ben, on the other hand, just furrowed his brows and looked at you, the corners of his mouth not even twitching. His expression was colder than ever. Without another word, he turned away from you and headed towards his room.

"I'm talking to you!", you said a little louder as you caught up with him and slapped his broad back from behind. Not particularly hard, although you could never hurt him anyway. At least physically.

“Leave me the fuck alone!”, he slapped your arm away, at the level of your wrist, way too roughly, which ended with an audible crack. A short, pained scream escapes your mouth, apparently loud enough to wake up Butcher and Frenchie.

“Fuck (y/n)! I... didn't mean-", Ben started, but his voice broke when Butcher and Frenchie came out of their rooms and saw you and Ben facing each other in the hallway. Butcher was just as dumbfounded as you. His gaze fell on your wrist, which you were clutching with your free hand, your eyes already glazed over with pain.

“Oi! What the fuck is going on?!”, Butcher grumbled with his arms crossed, looking from you to Ben as Frenchie walked towards you. “Nothing”, you whispered as Ben tried to open his bedroom door, but Butcher grabbed his forearm.

"You don't fucking want that Buddy!", Ben growled threateningly, his head turned to the side just enough to maintain eye contact with Butcher. He ripped his arm out of Butcher's grasp and looked at you one more time before disappearing into his room with a loud slam of the door. It was a miracle the door wasn't broken.

Butcher, driven by the fact that he was now permanently a supe, was about to drag Ben out of his room, but your voice stopped him.

“Leave him alone! Please”, you murmured, almost pleading.

Meanwhile, Frenchie examined your wrist and led you to the couch where you sat down. He quickly found a pressure bandage and wrapped it around your wrist as carefully as possible while you couldn't help but let out a small whimper.

“Now, can you tell me why Soldier Boy is pissed like hell and your hand looks like you taped it upside down?!”. Butcher was anything but rays of sunshine. He never was, but even less right now. However, you couldn't blame him. It was the middle of the night and the scene he found wasn't exactly promising.

Even though Ben had behaved quite peacefully, aside from his orgy escapades, Butcher still didn't trust him. However, he had gotten used to you by now. You could almost say he liked you.

 "It's not a big deal. It was an accident", you murmur, looking back at your wrist. "I... provoked him". Your acting must have been pretty good because Butcher obviously didn't question your statement.

“And why are you doing such bullshit? You know him and his fucking temper! Fuck. This guy is a fucking ticking nuke...literally!", he raised his eyebrows at the end of his sentence, as if he was slightly impressed by his pun.

“I know, I know”, you mumbled.

“All done, mon Coeur,” Frenchie said quietly before getting up and disappearing into his room without a word.

 “Butcher, look, he-”.

He didn’t even let you finish your sentence. Instead, he waved at you and muttered some words under his breath. “Just stay away from him. You’re doing yourself a favor, believe me”. Butcher’s gaze traveled from your face, down your body, back to your wrist. His furrowed eyebrows showed he was deep in thought. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then stopped. Without saying another word, he walked barefoot back into his room and rubbed his hand on the back of his head, slightly overwhelmed.

With a deep sigh, you sank back onto the sofa and closed your eyes. Your head hurt more than your wrist as your left hand slowly moved to your mouth.

Lost in thought, your index and middle fingers slid over your lips as you reminisced about the kiss with Ben. Those little thoughts alone were enough to make your heart stumble. It felt like a hot ball was traveling from your heart through your stomach straight between your legs.

You couldn't imagine that one kiss was enough to make you see Ben completely differently. You could still taste his lips, whiskey mixed with weed and mint. What would have happened if you hadn't broken the kiss? How far would Ben have gone? How far would you have gone? Your thoughts slowly but surely drifted away. You looked around. The living room was still dimly lit. Everyone was back in their rooms and you were alone. While your injured wrist rested on the armrest, your other hand automatically slipped into your shorts.

“Oh hell no! Don't fucking do this to me! Not now!”, Soldier Boy growled almost desperately as he heard your rapid heartbeat and breathing, while he lay on his bed. It wasn't the first time he had listened to you getting yourself off. And well, you're definitely helped him quite a lot without even knowing it. You always tried to suppress your moans and make your movements slow and quiet, but Ben was always so focused on you that his ears would immediately perk up when you gave yourself a hand.

At first, he was a little surprised that he couldn't stop focusing on it, but after a few weeks he was really enjoying it.

At the moment, however, it was pure torture. His emotions were already overwhelming him, so there was no way he needed to be any hornier than he already was. Especially after he had just hurt you in more ways than one.

However, his cock clearly had more to decide than his head or his heart.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop yourself. As you pumped two fingers inside you, your thoughts were on Ben. You imagined feeling his lips on yours again, his rough hands on your hips. You imagined what it would feel like if your fingers were his. Or something else.  

_

Part 3

-

Taglist: @deangirl96

#jensen ackles #spn #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #smut #billy butcher #frenchie

[phyrestartr]

HOUND | Miguel x M!Reader

Geneticist!Miguel x Guard!Reader Part 1 W/C: 2.5K | Part 1 of 2

Slight NSFW, zombie AU, apocalypse AU, mentions of exploitation and abuse, body horror, gore, immoral research and experiments, power imbalance, reader is a criminal, miguel is a scientist, dark themes, part 2 ends on a positive note, reader is morally grey, bottom!miguel, top!reader, sorry there's lore lol

Note: Wanted to post this bad boy in full, but the second half sorely needs some revising T-T It should be finished and up fairly soon, though! I hope this is ~intriguing~ for those who like darker stuff! Also I did a light edit on this part, but I really just want to get it out so lol sorry if things sound stupid/don't make sense asdjkf;l

--

There exists a cure.

That's what Alchemax declared. And it was the truth, just not the full truth. Not something the public would be happy with, anyway. 

The so-called "cure" was…unreliable, only recoding the RNA of select individuals for a reason that Alchemax's geneticists struggled to identify for the longest time. But after combing through the files of each expendable inmate and finding similarities, it became clear: those who'd been in the presence of nuclear energy, or high amounts of radiation, were suitable candidates for the vaccine. 

"Guess it's a good thing we didn't shut down those mines," Aaron had sneered at the board meeting. "Otherwise we wouldn't have the army of immune mutants running around for us." 

Miguel rolled his eyes. Sure, the idiot wasn't wrong, but he was taking it too far; plenty had died because of their experiments, and plenty more of the "immune" were sure to die with the unknown side effects of whatever the vaccine was bound to show in a matter of years (or in mere months, if they were unlucky). 

"It's a start," Miguel begrudgingly added. "But intentionally damaging civilian RNA with radiation, and then repairing it with S-2099, especially when we're not aware of any side effects yet? The UN won't have it. Can't imagine civilians would love it either." 

"Well, it's either get bit and die, stay afraid and die, or get painlessly exposed to a blast of radiation and then maybe die if 2099 doesn't fix them like we think," Liv offered with a shrug. "I, for one, would be honoured to die in the name of science." 

Miguel coolly looked over at her. "Thanks for volunteering." 

Liv's expression twisted. The energy in the room would've exploded if it hadn't been for Stone's interjection. 

"We will not be commencing civilian trials. Not until success rates increase with approved subjects provided by the state." The man spoke so steadily, so reasonably, like sacrificing the lives of orange jumpsuits meant nothing. 

They were dismissed soon after. Screens flickered out, holograms faded, and Miguel found himself alone with the other few scientists left at their Nueva York location. 

He stayed seated, vaguely aware of the others filtering out and murmuring amongst themselves, but his thoughts demanded his attention–he knew, even if the government didn't approve of essentially soft-nuking colonies of survivors, that Tyler Stone would find a way to do it, and would label it an accident. The man, his birth father, was ruthless, cold, calculated– 

"Sir?" A voice, your voice, cut through the silence. Miguel looked over his shoulder and found you still waiting, standing perfectly still by the door. 

"Sorry, I was just…" Miguel sighed and rubbed his face before standing. "Nevermind. Don't worry about it." 

Of course, you didn't say anything, instead nodding wordlessly and following your ward out of the room. Each step you took was punctuated by the shifting of your firearm against your thigh and the heavy thumps of your boots against the polished floors. Miguel used to hate your presence, think it unnecessary, but soon he grew to feel comfortable with you as his shadow. 

You, his powerful, mutant guard dog. 

"I can't fucking believe what this is turning into," Miguel muttered on the way to his quarters. "Too many unanswered questions, too many risks. And they don't care? We haven't even run further simulations yet–and we can run simulations with different alpha rays and different subject samples. It'd be harmless." The door hissed open and Miguel walked in, sorely wishing he could slam the door for once. Why did everything have to be automated? 

"In. Now," Miguel called when you stopped short of his residence. You obeyed, wandering inside before the door slid to a close behind you, and locked. 

You had reason to be nervous, Miguel knew that, too. Each key scientist in the building was assigned one of your kind, one of the immune mutants, and were free to do what they wanted with them. Sex, torture, chores–all of it was on the table. All of it had been asked of your kind. Done by your kind. Miguel figured that was why you kept a wall up. You hardly spoke, didn't request anything, never complained–all in an effort to keep the peace between you and your owner.

Miguel threw his white coat aside before stalking up to you. "Let me see," he mumbled as he held your jaw and tilted your head as he shone the light from his phone into your eye. 

Your pupils reacted at twice the speed of a normal human's, growing into the tiniest of pin pricks when the bright white flare assaulted your senses. Your eye twitched the slightest bit, but you remained still for Miguel. 

"Reactive. Not dead. That's good." He put his phone away, and examined the scarlet blotches contrasting against the natural hue of your iris. It was a relatively new side effect experienced by most of your batch, but you were amongst the more severe cases, if not the most severe case. Most of his peers didn't seem concerned by it, and Miguel could understand, seeing as it appeared to only be cosmetic, but the increased reactivity of your pupil accompanied with the bloody colour intrigued Miguel enough to keep tabs on it. 

"Any changes lately? To appetite, sleep, anything?" He asked as he let go of your jaw, nearly smiling as you tried to follow his touch for a moment longer like a sleepy cat. "Maybe neediness?" Miguel teased. 

You huffed lightly through your nose and looked around the main room of Miguel's living space. "Tired, I guess." 

Miguel's nerves smoothed with the sandpaper scratch of your voice. "Tired. Might be the anemia again. We'll draw blood tomorrow, see if you need supplements or another infusion." Miguel found himself mumbling now, going on about your health and your changes, wondering out loud what the best course of action would be to help you adjust to whatever was happening to your body, but you didn't say anything. You never did unless provoked. 

Miguel decided to provoke. He needed to speak, to be spoken to, to hear someone else’s voice right now. "What do you think about all this?" He called from the bathroom after washing up for the night. He poked his head out a moment later when you didn’t comment. 

“I know you were listening,” he prodded again over the toothbrush jammed into the side of his mouth. “The other ones don’t, but you do. I can tell by that look you get.” he waited for you to respond while he brushed his teeth, but you didn’t. You hadn’t moved from your post by his front door, actually, stood against the wall, arms crossed and staring forward like you were listening to everything beyond the door. Miguel wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you sit down. He didn’t know if you’d ever laid down before. 

After he finished washing up for the night, he decided to try again. 

“You really gonna keep me in the dark?” Miguel asked as he walked up to you, arms crossed as well. He couldn’t help but feel smaller and smaller the longer he waited in silence, waited to hear your gravelled voice. He couldn’t grasp why he was so desperate for a friend suddenly, but he was. He really was, and he wasn’t finding it in you. 

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter anyway,” Miguel mumbled, turning away from you and rubbing his face tiredly. 

“Don't have much of an opinion.”

“What?” Miguel turned back around, brows raised as he waited for you to continue. Your gaze peeled from the ceiling and fell to him, like you were waiting for a reprimand of sorts, but Miguel wouldn’t, not when he tried so hard to get a peep out of you.

You shrugged and looked elsewhere. “Don't care what happens to civilians. Not my problem.” 

“It's the world's problem,” Miguel suggested. He didn't want to start an argument, but he didn't want you to feel so blasé about the fate of everything. “The more civilians that get infected, the more the world loses.” 

“Thought that was a good thing. Last I heard, the world was pretty overpopulated.” You said it so easily. Miguel would have shrugged it off if he didn't know about the blood on your hands, the crimes you'd committed, the evidence that you really, truly, did not give a shit about humanity. 

Miguel scoffed, a bitter, bewildered sort of thing. “Y'know, I used to pity you for this,” he started, gesturing to the soldiered-out state of yourself, “but you might be less human than those things out there.” 

“Probably.” 

“You don't even care,” Miguel laughed again. “Did you care when you killed that family?” 

“An eye for an eye,” you replied. 

“Right, right. Then what about your daughter? Did you care when–” the world spun before his back cracked against the wall. He grabbed your wrist and squeezed when your hands fisted in his shirt, ready to trigger your kill switch with one click of a button on his ring, but he didn't need to; you simply held him there, boring holes into his skull with your diamond-tipped stare. 

“You jokers don't know when to quit,” you said. “Always have to drag a kid into the equation, ‘n then act so fucking shocked when you end up dead ‘cause of it.” A sigh slipped past your lips as you leaned in. Miguel wanted to meet you halfway. “Fuckers like you make murderers out of men like me.”

Oh. The violence rippling through your crackling voice went straight down, into the pit below Miguel's stomach and coiled into something frightfully decadent. He wanted your hands around his neck. He wanted you to mutter more threats into his ear. He wanted–

He wanted you. 

“Let me touch you,” Miguel blurted. “Your skin.” You gave a reaction then, eyes blinking away shock and throat clearing with a strangled grunt, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t reject him. In fact, you looked him up and down in question, curiosity peeking through piercing eyes. 

“You're a deranged fuck, aren't you? Getting all hot ‘n bothered from a threat.” You reached for the straps of your kevlar vest, then, and Miguel’s nerves jolted with the sound of the buckles clicking loose. 

He scrambled to you and held your hands. He wanted to do it himself, to unwrap your bindings and see what laid beneath. Your hands fell, and Miguel took over. 

The warmth bleeding from your clothes intoxicated him. He fumbled with your gear, eager to get to the base of your tight, black shirt and rip it off, but you didn’t try to take over for him–you watched, patient like a dog, letting your master doff your armour at his leisure (or, rather, his frantic, desperate pace). Miguel appreciated it. He wondered if you knew he'd snap if you tried to interfere. 

Soon, your chest was bare. Exposed for him, dotted with memories of cruel bites, bullets, knives and surgical scars all over taught, humming skin. Man shouldn’t be allowed to touch you, Miguel thought. The imperfections were so gloriously human. You were so perfectly alive, standing here with him, breathing, emanating heat, allowing him to do what he pleased–he was the luckiest man on Earth. 

Miguel couldn’t look you in the eyes as his broad palm pressed against your chest, right over the rhythm of your soul. His pants strained and tightened more as his touch wandered through the valleys of firm muscle; what did the rest of you look like? What did you look like when you fought, or when you fucked? 

His hand slipped down to the tight adonis belt cinching your waist, and then lower, following the trail of fine hair disappearing beneath the waistband peeking above your cargos. The bunching and folding of thick material melted Miguel's mind in a vat of suggestion and insatiability–were you really that big, or was that fabric just making it an illusion? 

He didn't need to wait to find out, though, not when you guided his hand down over the very real curve of your goods packed away. And, yes, you were big. Miguel's eyes snapped up to yours. A smug look greeted him.

“Looked like you needed some encouragement.”

Miguel might have laughed if his heart weren't suffocating him, climbing up his throat. Your clothed cock under his hand was ruining his cognitive functions too, to be fair. 

His fingers, long, clumsy things, hurried at your buttons and the zipper keeping everything in check. Miguel's ears filled with the rhythmic drumming of desire when he finally got the damn thing undone, but you grabbed his wrist. You stopped him. 

Miguel scoffed out a held breath and tried to wrench free, but your grip held firm. “You can't back out after–” But when he looked at you, he froze still; your expression electrified the senses, the slightest narrowing and shifting of uneasy eyes freezing Miguel colder and colder by the second. 

“Bathroom. Now.” You popped just one of those buttons back into place before turning to the door. 

“Wh–” But you shoved him, hard, and sent him stumbling into the sterile white space as explosive carnage rippled through the room in his wake. The thing collided into you seconds after you'd gotten your charge out of the blast zone. 

It was big. A mass of human features and flesh and maybe something else weighing on a hulking frame. You barked a name, maybe the name of one of your fellow watch dogs, but it didn't change the thing's trajectory as it tore towards Miguel on all fours like a hound out of hell.

But you were quicker. You grabbed it by the nape and ripped it off its warpath with too much effort, just narrowly avoiding it barreling into the attached room by seconds. Its momentum, forced toward the wall, threw it into a dizzied tantrum; limbs flailed, mouths gnashed, and a symphony of mismatched voices wailed from their putrid prison. 

Miguel's body locked. What ifs plagued him, suddenly. If it got him. If it bit him. If you hadn't been there. What if–

“Close the damn door,” you demanded, and your voice sounded a bit shaky, too. Miguel looked at your broad back as you stood bravely in the way of the beast and its target. “Doctor–” 

“I–but you–?” Miguel stumbled and choked on his words and his reasoning. He didn't want you to fight. He didn't want to die. He didn't want you to die. Miguel hit the button to make it closed, but the door stalled halfway.

“Fuck it.” Barbs burst from your fingertips and dug into the door, forcing it to bend to your will and close. Miguel didn't like how you disappeared inch by inch. He didn't like seeing that thing behind you get up. He didn't like that look you gave him just before the door snapped shut. 

The next few minutes passed like years.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #male reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel x male reader #male!reader #atsv male!reader insert #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

[lovelyiida]

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER • A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥ SYNOPSIS: as the years passed, Bakugo came to the realization that he was the last among his class to tie the knot. As the days grew colder, and the nights became lonelier. Bakugo finds the desire to get married, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. At least he has his trustee secretary!

implied fem reader, aged-up! Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 4.3K

PS: Please let me know if you have filled out the tag form since the last update so I can keep up to date!!

CHAPTER 8: VULNERABILITY

PHASE 2: CONSOLE

“Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!”

Headline, headline, headline!

PRO-HERO DYNAMIGHT EXPLODES IN ANGER DURING INTERVIEW

[unreleased footage from Pop! Magazine spreads like wildfire!]

Over 3 million views, and 10 thousand shares.

Since the dawn of the moon, you have been repeatedly refreshing the page. Each and every comment was scanned with frantic-fast movements. Relishing in this whole interview fiasco from the comfort of your queen-sized bed, you moaned in anguish.

Your face became increasingly hot as you read the comments with your third glass of wine in hand. As much as you thought the comments would be demeaning to the pro-hero, the exact opposite happened!

[COMMENT] Did you see how he took up for his secretary? Omg, that was so hot.

• 45k likes • 216 shares

[COMMENT] The way he took her hand going off the set!!!!

• 78k likes • 12k shares

[COMMENT] Oh god, send me a man like Dynamight…

• 57k likes • 2k shares

[COMMENT] Bro there’s no way they aren’t fucking

• 180k likes • 3.8k shares

Of course, that’s the top comment.

Staring at your computer, you tried hard to fathom the situation you were now slapped into. The video of you and Dynamight has gone viral, and everyone now suspects that you two are in a relationship.

And they're not entirely wrong...

Despite your late-night attempts to contact the fiery hero, your calls went straight to voicemail and your texts went unanswered. Letting out a large sigh that was once trapped in your chest, you had no choice but to sit there and let the bomb explode. And await the absolute nuke that was urging to be dropped at the office.

Staring at the messages you sent Dynamight, you scowled. “Flashy piece of carbon fiber pants thinks he’s the shit and can just ignore my messages? Leaving me to the wolves once again!” you shouted in anger. You threw your phone to the end of your bed and buried yourself in your plush duvet. Your throat becomes tight as your eyes are welled with tears.

“I’m gonna teach you, Dynamight, to never fuck with me or any other secretary again.”

The pattern of clicking heels and bustling conversations filled the office today. Usually, the bleak energy of Dynamight's office could be caught with little to no attention. But the sight you’ve seen today was out of the ordinary.

“The printers are down; just send emails!”

“Has anyone been in contact with Pop Magazine? They’re completely blocking our calls!”

“God damn it, I need a raise!”

The chitter-chatter amongst your coworkers is at an all-time high. As you started to quicken the pace of your steps around the office, scowls and stares were slapped across your face. Stepping foot by foot, you reach the bathroom and hide in the nearest stall.

The door bursts open before you can even think about taking another breath. “Can you believe Dynamight fired Hitomi and Sakura for telling the truth? I mean, the whole floor has seen the video! Even Red was speechless.” A woman says her friend snickers at her remark before chiming in.

 “I’d like to see little miss Secretary say something now; she’s not beating the slut-cretary allegations at this point–”

You didn’t know what came over you at the moment, but your feet began to move before your mind could comprehend what the actual fuck was going on. Slamming the stall open, you watch the two women flinched at your action. Eyes going wide, they stare into your soulless eyes, filled with an incomprehensible anger that you didn’t know was held within you.

“First off, let’s get one thing straight right now.”

You said it flatly, closing the stall behind you. You walked up towards the duo and closed in on them. “Me and Dynamight are not a thing; have you ever taken into consideration that I’m the only person who’s in charge of this man's reputation and career, as we both fucking know it?”

"So, of course, I’ll be hip-and-hip with the brute. Do you think I want that man in that play-pen he calls a fucking office? Oh please, Dynamight needs my ass because he can barely keep his head on every second of the day. So just maybe, we should all realize how valuable I am to all of your lives!”

“Because I know that if I wasn’t here, this building would be in flames, man-made or not.”

You spoke sternly with each huff of your breath, and the two women in front of you were left speechless. Your frown soon curled into a small twitch of a smirk before you spoke once more. “So excuse me for needing to be spoken up for. You bitches, have a nice day.”

Without looking back, your feet trailed confidently out of the boss battle that was the ladies' room and straight toward Dynamight's office. With each harsh click of your heels, you stepped closer to the office, your frown stuck and growing deeper by the second. Your coworkers took into account the drastic shift in your demeanor. From shy and outspoken to confident and ten cans of bitchy.

Without thinking twice, you throw the door open with a small huff and walk into the domain of the pro-hero. Closing the door softly, you turn at your heel and scowl at Dynamight. His amber eyes burn back at you with an almost unamused look, unphased by the absolute chaos ensuing beyond the Acia wood door.

“So what? Are we just going to ignore what the press is saying about us?” You said flatly.

“I ignored your annoying ass text messages pretty much the same way,” he snapped back slyly.

This asshat.

As you stormed towards his desk, you slammed your hands against it with a loud slap that made your palms sting. “Is it possible for you to actually talk about the issue and not be a fucking brat?” You spat with anger.

Dynamight's laidback/unbothered exterior soon crumbles in slow motion. From sitting back in his seat, he approaches you with a smooth motion, his eyes glowing amber-red as his elbows land on said desk. Looking straight into your eyes, a devilish smirk etches across his face.

“Say that again for me, Y/N; go ahead.”

Faces close to one another, you could feel the heat radiating off of the hero. You frown at his attempt at intimidation, snapping your eyes away for a single millisecond before you feel a strong, warm grip on your face.

“No, don’t look away now, pretty. Say what you just said to me again. Since you have all the audacity in the world today,” he said with amusement oozing from his tone. You groaned at the sensation of his hand gripping your face, swallowing down your fear. You spoke once more.

“I said, Man up, brat.”

A long-standing pause settles over the room as his gaze burns into your eyes. Suddenly, Dynamight stands up with one swift move. The blonde removes his hand from your face, you moan in anguish at the fade of his unsettling grip and stare into the blonde's eyes once more.

You watch as the hero points his finger at himself with a mischievous smirk,

“You wanna see a brat? I’ll show you a fucking brat!”

He brushes past you and storms out of the room. Shouting your name for you to follow, you quickly turn to follow in blood-curdling anger. You knew he was a pro and all, but there’s a statistic that for every 1 out of 5 chances, a villain can take a perfect hit at a hero of his caliber.

So you might take a chance and strike him at his weak point…

Preferably somewhere in the lower region.

You watch as Dynamight calls for an emergency meeting, calling for all staff to be in attendance. All staff from each agency scurry behind his steps, and even Red Riot follows suit. He tries to calm the hero down, but his efforts fail.

As the workers sat swiftly to hear the beloved hero's comments, your heart began to beat a new rhythm as the truth dawned on you about what you dreaded would happen next.

"So, I believe we all understand why we're in here. So let's address some rumors and set them to fuckin’ rest."

A sudden pang of fear hits your chest and seeps into your body as you hear the words fall off Dynamight's tongue and through the audience of your coworkers. Eyes scan the room until your eyes fall upon a certain red-headed main in the back towards the exit.

Letting out a soft exhale of relief, you speed your way toward Red Riot.

“Red!” You spoke aloud as you gained the attention of the other pro hero. His eyes snap towards you and he points towards his beloved partner in utter confusion. “What the hell is happening now?” He exasperates in exhaustion.

“He’s having a hissy fit because he can’t handle when the public negatively views him–”

“Negative?” He interrupted. You roll your eyes and raise your hands, completely giving up on the situation playing in front of you. “Dude bumped up 10 ranks in public favor, what the hell could he be upset for?” Red Riot spoke in confusion.

Holding your briefcase towards your chest, you sigh at the current baby of the hero stabbing daggers into your form.

“I…I’m not sure.”

As the assembly room filled up, every person in their seat watched attentively as they awaited the hero's urgent message. The blonde clears his throat before groggily shoving them in his pants. Silently pacing back and forth the head of the room with slow steps, eyes still trained onto you.

“I know what everyone is thinking to themselves, why the fuck are we here? Well, I need to address some petty rumors that are going on in the concrete hellscape.”

“All Might save us…” Red Riot groaned quietly as he watched in secondhand embarrassment at the Blondes' stunts.

"If you think me and my secretary have a romantic relationship, I'm afraid you're damn wrong.”

“Don’t listen to what I might’ve said in the past, or what I’ve said in the present. It ain’t true.”

Blah blah blah, blop blop blop.

You swore you could’ve seen physical bullshit fly out of his mouth.

“To prove this…I’m happily engaged!” The hero boasts confidently to the crowd of his workers. Shoving his right hand out of his pocket and out towards the expecting crowd. A diamond-banded ring shone brightly in the bright haze of corporate lighting.

Then, in a moment both shocking and surreal, Dynamight seizes the attention of the room with a declaration that sends ripples of astonishment through the assembled crowd. With a brashness that borders on audacity, he confronts the swirling rumors head-on, his words cutting through the murmurs like a lightning bolt.

In the sudden hush that follows, the truth is laid bare, raw, and unfiltered. The bombshell revelation of your engagement sends shockwaves through the room, leaving jaws agape and minds reeling. Eyes widen in disbelief as whispers erupt, spreading like wildfire among the stunned onlookers.

Yet, amidst the chaos, Dynamight stands undaunted, his demeanor unwavering despite the tempest of reaction he has incited. His confidence radiates as he confronts the storm of speculation with a rare candor, unapologetic in the face of scrutiny.

Calm within the midst of the business casual storm.

As for you, on the other hand, you could only think of one thing to do in this situation. Your feet rush towards the blonde with a speed never before seen, and your hand flies back as far as possible before landing a seething slap on the hero’s cheek.

Dynamight lets out a gasp of shock (and so does everyone else in the room) at your hit. You stood in front of the hero for only a moment before rushing out of the room and straight out of the office.

And now what was left of you was your body sulking under your covers once more. Leaving you to pick up the pieces of your self-worth once more.

You should consider just giving up, calling off the engagement, and leaving the industry for the rest of your life. A soulless desk job would be better than whatever the fuck this reality is right now.

So much for that speech in the ladies' room...

You tried hard to care for and take up for the hero you worked for, but at times like this, your vendetta only grew stronger. And the more your sister became right. But there's a voice in the back of your head that is somewhat empathetic for the hero.

Look at his family, for All Might’s sake!

An overprotective bitch for a mother, and an emotional father with no backbone.

(it’s okay for men to show their emotions!!!)

Of course, that would create a man with a lack of emotions and a soul-crushing ego to overcompensate for it.

Of fucking course!

Sighing into your pillow, you could only fantasize about the words you’d want to say to that man right now. 

“Tight pants, brazen-boned, bastard.” You grit your teeth together, as the words only make you angrier. “Beady-eyed, dog-mannered, dimwad!” You throw your blankets off your body and jump out of bed. Rushing towards the kitchen, you grab the fridge handle and swing the door open.

“Fuck!”

No beer.

Huffing out a defeated sigh, you eye the clock on the counter. It read 11:45.

Licking your lips, you ponder as you stare at the fridge and back at the clock. You might as well go out for a walk to cool some steam off. Shuffling over to your coat rack, you lazily threw on a hoodie and some slides. Grabbing your purse and your keys, you open the door to your apartment.

Rummaging in your purse for some convenience store coupons, you continued on your slew of words. “I bet he’s not even a real blonde, just a poser of a man-baby–”

“Hah?”

Eyes snapping wide from the voice, you jump back in shock as you see the man of the hour.

“What the hell are you doing here, Dynamight? Do you know what time it is?” You exclaimed in shock, mouth twisted down into a frown. You stared down at the blonde in anger and in utter embarrassment. Looking down further, you noticed he had a couple of bags in his hands.

Beer and chicken?

“Let me in, we need to talk.”

You scoff at the man's words as you throw your purse over your shoulder. “As if, do you know how you embarrassed me and you today?” You spoke with venom at the hero. Dynamight rolls his eyes before he speaks once more, “If it makes you feel any damn better, I made them all sign NDAs.”

You stare at the hero once more in confusion, and he stares back…unwavering in his actions.

“Okay, sure, do whatever you think will place a bandaid over this whole shit show for all I care.” Placing your hands on your hips, you watch the pro hero step towards you. “Yeah? Well, it's a pretty strong bandaid.”

You hum back in response before the both of you fall into silence. The both of you gazed at each other awkwardly, before tearing your gaze away. A light blush warms your face which makes you look down once more. Looking at the bags of fried chicken and beer, you look at Dynamights hand…

His engagement ring is still on!

“You idiot!”

Frantically looking around the outside of your apartment, you turn back and quickly open the door. You then hold the hero by the collar before shoving him inside. He follows suit with a grunt before shutting the door behind him.

“What the hell is your problem?” He cursed at you.

“My problem? My problem is that you come out to my doorstep late at night bearing a peace offering with your ring on, shining brighter than ever! Fuck-face!” You cursed back. This makes the blonde smirk at your complaint.

“If you think someone is watching us, then you’re pretty late to the party,” he chuckles.

“W-what?” you stuttered in anxiety, breaking from his gaze. You locked the doors and shut the blinds to your home. “Calm down; I paid them off a long time ago,” Dynamight rummages through the bags before setting the food and beer out on the dining table.

“Paid them off?” you asked.

“Yeah, they started watching you as soon as you pulled that stunt at the children's interview a while back. They were going to trample your door down just for a couple of gabs about me.” He spoke, cracking open a can of beer. The hero takes a couple of gulps before placing the can down.

Pulling out a chair, the hero sat down and began to speak. “You think you do all of the protecting when it's me.” He takes another swig of his beer as he stares into your eyes. You swallow a lump in your throat before you grab a seat as well.

“But you can’t say I haven’t.” You trailed off.

“Haven’t what?” He asked.

“Took care of you; everyone thinks you're this strong force to never be reckoned with, but you’re the complete opposite,” you rambled as you grabbed a can of beer and cracked it open. Taking a refreshing, much-needed swig.

Katsuki never responded.

“Y’know, it’s crazy how much this position has changed me. For the good or worse… I’m not so sure.” You spoke softly towards the hero.

“And why do you think that, Y/n?” He asked.

You bit the inside of your cheek at the question. “Before I came to this agency, I never knew what it was like to take care of someone besides myself. And even then, I was doing a shit job at it. My life was teetering on by a thin string.”

The room was silent, the only noises being the taping of Katsuki’s foot, the ticking of the clock, and the hum of your refrigerator.

“So what? You’ve never helped someone out before? Beating someone’s ass with your quirk? Nothin’?” Katsuki spoke, trying to understand where you’re coming from. But you could only let out a big sigh.

"Well, technically, I’m kinda quirkless.”

Katsuki’s tapping stopped.

He gave you a look you’ve never seen before; his eyes were growing soft and his chest began to fall. Like he’s loosening up or something. The blonde stared intensely at you, waiting for you to speak once more. Biting your lip, you continued once more.

“It's like it comes in little spurts, no matter how hard I try to concentrate and force it out. It’ll only come out at the randomest of times. I’ve never seen myself at full power before.”

“One moment I was just like you, young and so excited about my quirk. I grew up thinking that I was going to save the world and that I’d work hard and conquer my way to the top. But the thing is, as yours grew stronger, I was only getting weaker. And the next thing I knew, I woke up, and it was gone.”

“So I went through life with the mentality that I needed to give myself a bit more attention; I couldn’t just wing through life knowing that my quirk could save me. But I knew that if I could have a position of power, that would make me feel like I was making a difference out there for you of all people…”

You suddenly laughed at yourself, taking another swig of your beer.

“Sorry, I don’t even know what I’m saying, I’m already buzzed.”

“No.”

You looked at Katsuki as he spoke, a frown on his lips as he shook his head. You couldn't help but laugh at his demeanor. “All I’m saying is that maybe I wasn’t as cut out for this as I thought I would be. Maybe I’m meant to be a walking target that villains can smell. I’m a walking damsel in distress, honestly. If we didn’t meet through the agency, we could’ve met that way most likely–”

“Shut up.”

Katsuki deadpanned at your words.

“I knew someone who was quirkless, and that loser is stronger than me for all might’s sake!” He exclaimed.

“All I’m saying is that you have a good life, so be proud of it. You work hard, harder than I’ve seen most of the chicken heads that I’ve hired. So bask in that glory.” He says softly, you roll your eyes before you start up again.

“I have a good life? Says the multi-acclaimed pro hero Dynamight! Ranked number two out of the whole country, he drives a red sports car, lives in a nice childhood home, goes to a great school, gets to roll around in money, and gets to tell people how they should dress for five days out of the week? Right, my life is really good.”

You snorted at yourself, reveling in the truth you spoke. But all Katsuki could do was shake his head.

“That same person who you were talking about has almost died countless times, kidnapped in their first year of high school, and has lost too many friends and mentors to count. So yeah, I consider you to have a good life.”

You let out a bittersweet chuckle at his words, “There’s one more thing too.” You added on, Katsuki raised his eyebrows in amusement, “like?”

“You’re also the last to get married.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and lets out an amused smirk. “Right, that’s checkmate for me–”

“How come you’re the last? I would think that you’d be the first! You’re not a bad-looking guy; you might need to work in the emotional availability department but. You’re crystal clear.”

“I uh…  I tried to do the whole young love thing but it didn’t work out in my favor.” He responded softly towards the touchy subject, but you decided to persist.

“And why do you think that, Katsuki?”

Back when Bakugo was a younger, newly emerged pro, there was someone of his caliber that he found perfect. They had the spunk, the quirk, the personality, the looks, even the barons. He believed they were perfect for each other.

He had his sights set on them since he had been working in the force. At first, they were a nice distraction. Clever banter turned into hot makeout sessions. Training days turned into blanket-covered nights where the both of them would talk about their future.

And back then, he believed it. He believed that he had a future with them.

Sometimes he would envy Kirishima; he didn’t understand why he wasn’t chosen to bear the burden of love. A warmth beyond his comprehension, a family that he could selfishly call his own.

Sometimes his mind would trail back to that night. A night that he wished he could forget. A thought that he wished could be locked away forever. He remembers the sight as he looked into their eyes—the utter betrayal.

The smirk of mischief and evil as the one and only person he ever could love has turned against him. The moment when he got stabbed in the chest, too close to his heart. And in that moment, he had to choose selfishly in a way he never wanted to.

And that choice was his life over theirs.

You didn’t know what to say at the moment, Katuski just dropped the biggest bomb you had the burden of holding. Stammering with your thoughts, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Katsuki…”

“I would’ve never known–”

“It wasn’t for you to know; I don’t even know why I told you that,” he said to himself. You softly smile at his harsh words.

“Well, not to toot my own horn but I’m your fiance,” you chuckled. Katsuki gives you a smirk before he looks at your hand. "Then, where’s your ring?” He asked.

“In my room, placed somewhere safe and out of harm's way!” you smiled.

"Well, I’m gonna need you to start wearin’ it more,” he retorted.

“I figured that after your little speech, you gave us away like you weren’t even trying.” You spat out sarcastically. “I didn’t even mention your name!” He raised his voice in protest. “Yeah? Well, I’m sure everyone connected the dots to a perfect fuckin T.” You spoke with a smirk.

"Well then if they decide to connect those lines to the press, that NDA will be there waiting for them to get bit in the ass,” he snapped back.

You laugh at his words before taking a final sip of your beer.

“Why did you choose to give yourself a chance with me?”

Oh, you were buzzed.

“You are a hero that’s supposed to date other heroes, top models, and superstars of your caliber. Why date some small-town secretary that doesn’t even fully have a quirk?” you spoke, just above a whisper. Scared of his next response. Feeling that as if you got the wrong response, you just might hurl all over him.

Katsuki lets out a sigh before he silently panders to himself. He was eyeing you up and down before he finally spoke with a smirk.

“I’m not sure, wishful thinking?”

“asshole”

YAAAAAAAAASSSSUHU IM BACK IM BACK

I saw all your comments begging me to come back, next chapter when? next chapter when? NEXT CHAPTER NOW HOE

As you all might know now, I am a busy college student who finally has time to fantasize and write to my heart's content. SO YOU WILL BE GETTING MORE CHAPTERS OUT OF ME VERY SOON!!

Thank you all so much for the support, I love you all and hope you guys have an amazing read! Please let me know how I did in the comments. Comments and reposts are very much appreciated!!

— lovelyiida 

❥: @xo-evangeline, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @the-queen-of-sorrows , @itgetzweird08 , @yoyosocks165 , @pebblepoop , @lovra974 , @bakugospartner , @gaby-11 , @akqsa-xxi , @jolynegf , @goldenglow149 , @aliruuiz , @zukowantshishonourback , @ilovedenk-i , @atsushiki , @smolbeanzzz , @lem-hhn , @stevenknightmarc , @katsu-shi , @ryumiii , @idontevenknowlolls , @lyn07 , @kennshifts , @ackerman-suck-3-r , @alicen23 , @xasilex , @elegantvoids , @lowkeyremi , @plutounderbridges , @k0z3me , @thecurlyhairedgoddess , @sunyrose , @winterv-black , @chuugarettes , @kiarathace , @thisbicc , @thekookiecorner , @hyu-hl , @katsukisxslut , @optimisticprime3 , @cosmicbreathe , @yessimo , @sanemishina , @snxwycloud , @cosmic-rainstorm , @vinivave , @venus-xxoo , @lavender99 , @iluv-ace , @artfulthoughtsblog , @thatcreepycat , @prettylittleshady , @lavalampfullofsoup, @melodykittya , @bakugoiidaswaifu, @queendynamite2001, @starxsage, @mikestuffffs, @queendynamite2001, @kazuumii, @Minori-taiga1, @Liveurlifetothefullest

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[espinosaurusrexex]

The Trap - Introduction

Worlds Collide Collection

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader apocalypse au

summary: Welcome to the apocalypse. This is the introduction to the new world you're about to enter. Let's see what your life is like. Do me a favor and be open, and maybe there'll even be a handsome stranger to meet...

a/n: so this is heavily influenced by The 100 and Love and Monsters and I guess also Maze Runner, if it seems chaotic at times, that’s because it is. With that being said: have fun reading i’d love to hear what you think 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: grumpy/sunshine, mentions of death and misery, loneliness, dystopia, nuclear weapon and monster stuff, obnoxiously optimistic reader (give her a chance okay)

collection playlist | main masterlist | collection masterlist

May 10th 2039

Hey Book,

Here are the things that happened today:

found a new pen (that’s great because this one is running out)

watched the acid fog from the building with the tall glass roof (pretty dope if you ask me!)

went to the west border and saw new tracks

finally got the nose right on that Gordon Ramsey sketch (it’s finished, yay!)

gave Berty a makeover

The day has been pretty sweet. I’m thinking of going out tonight to watch the meteor shower. Hope I don’t die.

Anyway, see ya tomorrow!

   ~You know who :)

The notebook closed with a loud thud that made even you twitch. Your eyes went to the basketball on the shelf above the makeshift bed.

“Sorry, Berty.” The ball didn’t respond, obviously. Its plastic wig shifted slightly further over the marker eyes, making it seem all crooked and funny looking. You weren’t crazy. You just preferred not to talk to yourself. 

A look at the window told you that it had gone dark by now. The weather conditions weren’t too great for another acid fog so your plan was good to go. You grabbed your backpack and headed out to the cliffs where you had the best view. Ever since the apocalypse started, there were a lot more stars visible at night. Half the population had been wiped out with the Hydra nukes and the rest played survivor with the mutated animals roaming the earth due to the atomic bombs that had been fired on that day. 

You remembered it vividly actually: Bright beams shooting through the sky and then it rained down like hellfire. Green glowing stripes covered the horizon from where you looked down onto the city.

The world hadn’t been that great to begin with to be honest. People were suffering, water and food supplies had shifted into the negative, and don’t even get started on climate. Humans had collectively decided that their planet was going to waste anyway. So, where was the harm in a little more destruction, right?

It’s not like you or any other normal citizen had had a chance to decide on another outcome anyway. The united governments of the world had been infiltrated by an organization with fucked up values and no sense for common human decency. They didn't care that their bombs would wipe out half of the world’s population. Hell, you’d be surprised if they even considered this an argument for their ‘cons’ column. But, hey, it had one benefit after all: if this was the worst it could get, there was nothing left to lose.

You kicked open the door of the buried school bus that had become your temporary home for a while now. Temporary in the sense that there was no way of knowing what would happen or when something would attack. You tried to make them all as cozy as possible though. Berty was a big part of that attempt. The painted basketball had become a loyal companion in your ever-shifting habitats. And even though it was a pain to transport a so unfortunately shaped object, you would never dare leave it behind. 

The humid evening air hit you like a broken fan. It was springtime, but that had stopped to matter many years ago. The weather merely shifted between scorching hot days and bearable nights. Though the wintertime was making being outside a little more doable. The trees hung low over your head when you stepped past the traps you had laid out around your home. You lived at the edge of the forest, which wasn’t the most secure place of all the ones you’ve had so far, but it was a little cooler. Most of the dangerous things out there hid several miles from the tree lines anyway. 

A dark sky stretched over your head as your feet dangled off the cliff by the forest. You were munching off an old can of beans that you had found on your stroll through the cities as the bright streams of light shot through the sky. It was beautiful and thrilling. Teetering you on the edge of remembering the very day that made this whole shit show go down. The sky was lit up back then too, but it wasn’t half as beautiful as this.

You could have sat like this for hours. The meteors wouldn’t stop passing until the sun rose, but there was a danger of being tired in broad daylight in this world. You couldn’t risk strolling through the morning with half a working brain. Especially because the morning brought a routine acid fog with its sunlight. You took a look at the tactical watch on your wrist. It was 3:30 am - Probably best to head back to safety.

As you stepped through the dried ground, you hummed a song from the old record in your bus. It didn’t work great and it was broken in several places which had you always listening to a slightly messed-up remix of the actual song, but you liked it anyway. Close to the bus, however, there was rustling from the side. Your body went into surviving mode immediately. There was a routine: hide, listen, escape. Only idiots fought whatever was out there. 

So that’s what you did.

The tree you hid behind was wide enough to cover you whole, which gave you easy access to sneak your head past the trunk and see what was making the noise. It came from about 20 feet before the buried bus, but there was nothing to be seen. The rustling continued though and as you stepped forwards from your cover, you noticed that it came from underneath. Something had fallen into your trap! It was foolproof of course, but you still approached it with care, fearfully and intrigued all together as to what you had caught this time... well, it was the first time here to be perfectly honest. Even more exciting to say the least.

Your feet crunched the dried leaves beneath you as a mumbled curse reached your ears. That was weird. Last time you checked, monsters didn’t talk. You were even more surprised, however, to find a broad man tangled in the hole you had dug outside your home. Of course, a person had been stupid enough to walk into your trap. You had been so excited about something more dangerous. 

The man had not noticed you standing above the hole just yet. He was still working with the net you had splayed out beneath the fallen leaves, too busy cursing his life away in the dirty opening. You cleared your throat after a minute, though. And as amusing as the whole scene had been, the man looking up at you wiped the smirk off your face immediately. He was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes gleamed up in the moonshine, a deep frown on his face as soon as the surprise to see you had faded.

“You got caught in my trap.” You said blankly, still captured by his face. You had not seen another person in nearly a month. It was strange, to say the least. That’s why you weren’t really expecting your mouth to say anything smart.

“This is supposed to be a trap?” The brown-haired man huffed before cutting through the last rope to free him from his restraints.

“Well you can’t get out, can you?” There was a short silence in which you caught the slightest hint of disbelief in his eyes.

“If you wanted to catch a monster with that, you wouldn’t be making such snarky comments. It’s barely deep enough for them.”

Anger crept up your neck. Who was this stranger to not only fall into your - awesome - intruder trap but also criticize your work even though he was the idiot stuck in it? “Why do you think I wanted to trap monsters? Maybe my trap was for people, which, in that case, it is brilliant.”

“It’s stupid,” he grumbled. 

“Oh come on give me a little credit, I only had spare materials.”

There was the confused glare again, and you couldn’t really place it just yet.“Yeah, yeah. Trap’s great now get me out.”

“That wasn’t genuine.” Your arms crossed before your chest, but you couldn’t hide the small smile forming on your lips. This was fun.

“You know what’s gonna be genuine? My foot in your ass once I get out of here.” Oh, not so fun.

“That's not a really good way to make me help you, you know?” You were about to step away when you heard him sigh deeply beneath you. A triumphant smirk appeared on your face before you held your head over the hole again.

“Can you please help me out of this genius trap?” The Brunette was rolling his eyes, but it was good enough for you - after all, you didn’t want to make enemies just yet.

“Why of course! I love people that appreciate good handy work!”

You nodded appreciatively and reached for the net he held your way. It took a little bit to get enough momentum but then he jumped and dug his boots into the soil walls and within seconds, the stranger was pulled up from the ground. 

“Drop the bullshit.”

“What bullshit?”

Now that he was standing in front of you like that, you noticed how tall he was, and built, too. It was a wonder you had managed to pull his weight out of there now that you thought about it. He was really handsome, too. His dark hair fell into his face and his eyes were bright blue, staring down at you with a gloomy expression. It didn’t scare you, though. You were more... fascinated by him, really.

He looked at you for a second, and the gears were literally turning behind his eyes. But he caught himself quickly, shaking his head and making his way out of the forest. You weren’t ready to have him leave, though. It was rare to meet people now, and this one seemed entertaining enough.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Away.” You barely heard him over the heavy footsteps he pressed into the ground.

“You can’t go!”

That made him stop. The stranger turned around with an unfazed expression, his shoulders hanging low with annoyance, but you wouldn’t let up. “And why’s that?”

Shit, you hadn’t thought it would get this far. Your hands wrung the net as you stood there looking for an explanation. But the guy turned around with a condescending clicking of his tongue. “Wait! You haven’t told me your name.” You shuffled over to him in haste, you steps faster than his, but it was difficult to catch up to him, still.

“I don’t have to.”

“You do, actually. It’s a rule.” He stopped again, and you almost fell at the abrupt halt.

“A rule,” he repeated in disbelief, his face still unimpressed, but he was quite pretty this way.

You smiled. “Yup. You fall into my trap, you tell me your name.” To be honest, you were a little proud at how fast you had come up with the idea, but it seemed the stranger was still not impressed. He just crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at you almost amused.

“That's not a rule.”

“It’s my rule.” Was that a tiny smile creeping onto his features? You liked it - looked way better than those broody anger lines.

Then he huffed and shook his head. “Bucky.”

“Gesundheit,” you answered immediately, but that seemed to stick that annoyed look right back onto his handsome face.

“No. Bucky is my name.” Oops.

“Oh. Sorry.” You tried it out in your head, then. And it suited him quite nicely. It was a little odd but witty - just like him. 

“Whatever.” His arms untangled before his broad chest and Bucky looked ready to leave again. You didn’t want that, though.

“Would... uh.. would you like to come in?” Why were you so nervous all of a sudden? Your hands were a little sweaty, but talking to someone that actually responded felt so good...

You earned another look with that question. Really, you’d already gotten used to those in the three minutes you knew him - seemed to be his M.O. 

“What?” He wasn’t confused this time, at least you didn’t think so. It sounded more like he hadn’t heard you.

“You know... be my guest.” A bright smile spread on your lips, but Bucky wasn’t buying it, and frankly, you were running out of ideas to keep him here. Normally, people were happy to see others around here, but Bucky? He didn’t seem to like talking very much.

“Sorry, gotta go.”

Your eyes found the ground as you heard his steps distancing from you again. “Oh, ok.” You mumbled to yourself, and with a last wash of hope, you called out again. “Will I see you again?”

“No.” He was already by the tree line, now. And Bucky didn’t seem like the type of person to run back the distance in slow-mo like you had seen in those old films. 

It didn’t discourage you, though. “Okay, you know where to find me!”

“Not gonna visit you!”

“See ya soon!” You waved and bit back a triumphant smile when you heard him chuckle before he disappeared out of the woods. 

Hey, Book, It’s me again.

And, man, what a great day!

more…

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[ravenmichaelisstuff]

"Better late than never" part 9

  COLORING BOOK

Since Soap learned how to make Ghost’s tea, a cup of it waited for him every morning right next to Johnny's coffee- prompting the lieutenant to sit next to the Scot. Ghost didn’t really need any prompting, Ghost’s place was always right next to Soap after he saved him that place on the plane.

Although today there was something extra next to his mug when he sat in the mess hall. 

“What’s that?” Ghost gestured at the item.

“‘Hello, Soap.’ Hi Lt! ‘Thanks for the tea Soap.’ No problem Sir.” The sergeant said to himself, looking disappointed at the taller man. Ghost just blinked at Soap, unamused. Soap rolled his eyes. “Just something for you to do while I am gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will be showing our future demolition experts how to properly blow up some old buildings a little farther away from the base. I will be back for supper.” The Scot was visibly excited, rubbing his hands together, already thinking about all the things he will set ablaze that day.

“Why without me?” Everyone knew that they were attached at the hip, even if the lieutenant would rather eat a bullet than admit that. They were always sent on missions as a team, they worked great together. They even trained rookies together since if Ghost were to do it alone the poor bastards would be dead by the end of it. Soap had a way more friendly demeanour. Recruits not only liked the sergeant but he had this special ability to encourage them to do better- not for him but for themselves.

 Ghost knew that Soap is a better leader, better than he himself will ever be. Johnny was charismatic and kind, always putting everyone else before himself. And Soap was so fucking smart, it brought Ghost physical pain to see him dumb it down for the entertainment of others. People would follow after Soap in battle, Ghost would and honestly he hopes that he will survive to see the day Johnny gets to be a captain. Because he fucking deserves it.

But that’s not the point right now- why today they got separated?

“From what ah’ know you are no expert on explosives so there is no reason for ye to tag along. Gaz will be joining me, and as a lieutenant, you have better things to do, don’t ye?” 

Ghost frowned under the balaclava, he didn’t like leaving Soap alone and being left alone on base- or more like he didn’t like not having the Scot by his side. Ghost can pretend to be annoyed with Soap, but he is aware that the man makes his days a little bit more tolerable.

“Ah, Lt… you make a face lik’ ye actually gonna miss me.” Soap laughed.

“Piss off, you can’t see my face.” But MacTavish was right, he will miss him- even if only for a few hours.

“Ye are easier to read than you think Simon.” Soap looked him in the eyes, smiling softly. “I gotta go or Price will kill me for delaying shit again.” He got up and patted Ghost’s shoulder.

“Don’t teach them to make makeshift nukes in their’s room.”

“When it’s all the fun!” Shouted Soap, disappearing behind the exit doors. Ghost couldn’t stop a chuckle from coming out under his balaclava.

Ghost was going to take his tea to his room since without Johnny there was no point in sitting in a crowded space, but his attention came back to the mysterious objects. He grabbed the first one, which was a small tin box filled with coloured pencils- way nicer that the crayons they used once for doodling. The pencils weren’t in the usual vibrant rainbow colours but in nicely toned down, darker ones. Every single pencil was engraved with gold writing ‘Prismacolor’, Ghost never saw pencils like that. His knowledge of art supplies was very limited. All he knew was that the HB pencil is the best only because Johnny said so.

The second thing turned out to be a colouring book, but not just any colouring book. With Soap there was no normal. The front page of it read ‘Fuck off! I am colouring’ which was honestly amusing to Ghost. He thumbed through the pages, only briefly looking at the designs. They were all filled with swear words.

Soap expected Ghost to colour it, but he was sure that the thing will be probably lying somewhere in his room, untouched. Kept only because he got it from Johnny. 

Ghost didn’t even get to take his tea to his room when his phone lit up. He got a message from Price

 ‘My office. NOW.’

The Brit groaned and walked to his Captain’s office, colouring book and pencils stuffed in his pocket.

***

Ghost had enough of that day, the world seemed to hate him.

First, when he entered Price’s office he was met with an apologetic look from the older man. They weren’t alone in the room, a middle-aged woman introduced herself and said she was a major. She looked very pissed. She showed them some papers with numbers that Ghost didn’t understand, telling him that there is too many KIAs on the missions he leads. That he should be better because that is what they expected.

No one had in mind that Ghost was usually being sent on a literal mission impossible like he was some kind of sorcerer that could make a shit intel about very dangerous ‘whatever’ work only because he is the Ghost. People expected him to perform miracles, but in the end, he was the one collecting dog tags from the fallen soldiers. It wasn’t even like he didn’t blame himself- because he did. He blamed himself for ever agreeing to lead the mission, to ever allow it to happen. Sometimes he felt like the shit intel wasn’t at fault- maybe he really could make better decisions?

Price couldn’t stand the woman any longer and he very nicely told her that they have some important things to discuss. The woman left, saying that she will be back if the numbers don’t go down.

“People are not a statistic you can change, son. Don’t pay attention to the old hag.“ Price tried to sympathize.

 It didn’t make Ghost feel any better about himself, he just stood in the middle of the office waiting for Price to dismiss him. The man signed.

“I will make sure not to take tasks from her ever again. You can go.”

Ghost never left that room so fast. He felt like shit.

Then his hands were trembling for the rest of the day. He wanted to clean some of his guns but he couldn’t do it so he went to his room thinking he could catch up with his paperwork. But it only made it worse since he had to write reports from those forsaken failed missions. He caught himself wishing Johnny was there to help him, to just speak endlessly about his day so Ghost can listen and forget for a while about everything else.

Ghost looked forward to the dinner.

***

As soon as it was past 6 pm Ghost started to worry, because Soap didn’t yet barge in blabbering about all the explosives he got to detonate today. Ghost knew that the sergeant knew what he was doing, but he didn’t know all the rookies and their abilities. He pushed that filling away and went to the mess hall thinking that maybe Soap was simply hungry after the course and stopped there to eat something.

But he wasn’t there. The training must have just extended in time.

Ghost grabbed himself a meal and sat at an empty table hoping that the Scot will finally show up. While he was at it something fell out of his pocket- the colouring book. He picked it up.

Fuck it

He also put the pencils on the table. Ghost went through the pages in search for something interesting. He picked one with ‘Ask your doctor if shutting the fuck up is right for you.’ in the middle- it made him smirk.

He picked a pencil and started filling out the design. He was surprised to get really into it. He was extremely focused on not going over the lines, filling the space in the colour pattern he choose. The pencils were extremely smooth and glided on paper with no problem allowing him to blend the colours with no problem when he realized that he can. No one will stop him and tell him to fill out one area only with a single colour. At some point his hands stopped trembling, Soap calmed him down even from far way.

***

When Soap came back buzzing with all the good feelings blowing stuff brought him, he didn’t expect to see what he did. Even if he was late for supper with Gaz, Ghost was still sitting there hunched over the damn colouring book he got him. He was completely engrossed in it- John smiled. What made him even more satisfied were the looks Ghost received from everyone around him.

The soldiers remaining in the mess hall looked flabbergasted, Even Gaz who stood next to him looked mildly surprised to see the big ol’ Ghost so focused on colouring.

“I told ye getting him the good pencils will be worth it.” Soap crossed his arms and looked at Garrick.

Kyle shook his head with a chuckle. “You would get him the expensive ones even if he were to throw them away. Which he wouldn’t.”

“Yeah… I would.”

Gaz ruffled Soap’s hair. “You are a whipped, man.”

And yeah, there was no point in denying it.

I struggled at the start but when I got into it it was really nice to write. I am a little worried that I am focusing on stuff not relevant to the prompt but it really helps me build the story. I hope you all like it and I love to read your thoughts <3 PROMPT BY @/Riolee on Ao3 and expanded by @u5an5

Part 1

#no beta we die like Ghost's family #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish #cod #cod mw2 #soap cod #soap mctavish #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #soap x ghost #ghostsoap fanfic #cod headcanons #cod soap #cod fanfic #soapghost fluff #bltn soapghost fic

[bestworstcase]

Okay- Salem throwing in during the Great War especially with Grimm would belatedly justify that card game from Volume 2 because of how it was over control of Remnant besides as an in show ad. Especially with the whole bit of the Nevermore card.

Salem as supporter of revolutionaries fighting for their freedom... One that fits extremely well. Two it puts additional layers to Cinder approaching the White Fang and also just ... Cinder being taken in.

I also would find such a reveal in show to likely be extremely hilarious as the implications hit the audience and cast.

my god i wrote that entire fucking post without remembering the great war Board Game existed

you’re right though, it would be a sly piece of foreshadowing if that’s the intention, esp bc the nevermore bit is between ruby (playing atlas) and yang (playing mistral) and a dice roll which of their forces it attacks.

in terms of the worldbuilding that game has always kind of interested me for what it says about how grimm are viewed in military contexts by the general public; qrow in WOR suggests that grimm on the battlefield was an automatic ceasefire until they were driven off again, but also that “grimm came in droves” while ozma laid waste to his enemies with the sword. and then there’s this grimm card in a war game where the mechanic is “flip a coin to see whose soldiers get mauled”—implying that opportunistic “let the grimm attack your enemies” tactics are not unheard of.

and… then. there’s arrowfell. the grimm lures the antagonists use were developed by the atlesian military, and… the only practical use case for a device that summons swarms of grimm is to weaponize grimm against human targets, ideally a safe distance away from your own forces. like, they’re grimm bombs. and these were developed post-war! in a time of peace! the great powers during the tense period before the great war must have been thinking about how to point the grimm at their enemies, too.

but unless you’re salem, or have salem on your side, weaponizing the grimm will always be a double-edged sword—as yang says, that’s just a risk you have to be willing to take.

anyway yeah if i’m right, the reveal would be so punchy. and i do for sure think were due for some sort of revelation about the great war—it’s been set up and referenced over and over, and they made a deliberate choice to convey this information through a heavily biased perspective, and the great war ended in vacuo, and everything the narrative is building up to the last stand in vacuo. something about history coming due, and the truth coming out.

it’s also be a neat counterpoint to the Team Oz narrative, which is very black-and-white (mantle and mistral were the bad guys, vale and vacuo were the good guys, don’t ask too many questions about valean expansion into the likeliest origin point for those desperate crazy founders of mantle or vale’s involvement in the complete destruction of its next-door neighbor centuries ago or the part where ozma magic nuked everyone so hard that allies and enemies alike bent the knee.) whereas the truth seems to be more complicated with vale also having imperial ambitions prior to ozma assuming the throne, and then at best prioritizing the status quo.

an interesting possibility that i think about sometimes is that ozma may have been the one to withdraw vale from vacuo; less out of anti-imperialist principle than because the vacuan people were increasingly unhappy with valean rule and he recognized that the only way to avoid a war for independence in the long term would be to give vacuo independence first. and then mistral swooped in like a vulture because ozma neglected to do anything but formally recognize vacuan sovereignty, rather than make reparations and provide support needed to allow vacuo to emerge from centuries of valean occupation as a functional country—the same conflict-avoidant, shortsighted approach on display in his choice to “share the land” with mistrali colonists in eastern vale.

[theunluckyvandalist]

Indigo disk concept ig

Carmine realizing how mean she's been to kieran all this time [cuz let's be real, she's really mean to him] and trying to apologize but since his door is locked, she sits against his door and rambles on for a while but by that point kieran is already planning to like idk nuke Ohio and her words mean nothing in that moment

Largely cuz let's be real, as much as I love carmine she played a huge part in his behavior change. She's so fucking mean to him and he's only like 10-13 and already very shy so his behavior becoming exactly like hers isn't surprising

I just want carmine to realize her errors and at least *try* to fix things

#pokemon carmine #pokemon kieran #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon SV #pokemon indigo disk #pokemon teal mask #pokemon headcanons

[blauequuleus]

Okay so I’ve never played any Kingdom Hearts games and I’ve only watched the first 2 hours of a play through of the first game.

I’m gonna list everything I know through just internet osmosis. So tell me how off the mark I am on some of this (If I spell names wrong I’m sorry and be nice please)

Sora, Riku, and Kari(?), have all grown up together and play on this island with no parents in sight or a house or anything but island kids running around (do they have parents and houses to go home to? Or is this just Peter Pan style island of lost kids)

They want to leave the island and go on an adventure together

Kari just kinda showed up one day

Sora has a crush on Kari but has not a lot of interactions with her but is constantly talking about Riku and chasing after him

Kari I’m sorry sweetie as far as I can tell you’re the old trope of “this is girl character who is girl and main love interest that will spend 99% of the plot damsel’d and doing nothing -probably knocked out- and the last 1% she spends reassuring the main male lead in some way and has no personality outside of that” (this could be radically different in the games and she actually has a personality that doesn’t revolve around the main lead Sora needing to rescue her but all of the scenes I’ve seen from the games she’s either just standing there or is knocked out)

Riku and Sora have so mush chemistry people are convinced they are in love (to be fair every thing I’ve seen from the games has them constantly obsessing over each other more so than anyone else. Half their lines seem to be each others names. So yeah big rainbow energy coming off of them)

Also don’t they like combine swords or something into a big weapon… 👀🏳️‍🌈

Isn’t there matching wedding rings for Sora and Rikus swords cause if so that’s cute

Main game plot point is Sora, Goofy and Donald jumping around in a Gummy Ship?? to all the different Disney properties and movies and these are all treated like different worlds (is Star Wars in there now cause that’s a galaxy in and of itself, how does that work????)

Donald was dunked on for years as a terrible healer until he nuked a guy and the internet went insane over it

Micky Mouse is a king

Idk where the fuck Minnie is or Daisy

This is all connected to Final Fantasy games somehow. Cloud and Sephiroth(??) are connected to this (I have not played the Final Fantasy games either so idk what this means. I know it’s the same developers but haven’t they been in the KH games??)

The Halloween Town designs are cool looking

Sora gets a wardrobe change per world (species change for little mermaid?? And maybe others??)

Why his shoes too big lookin for his feet

Heartless are little shadow guys that are made from people having their heart/soul ripped out

There’s basically an apocalypse on every world cause of these heartless little creatures (but only main characters seem to notice them??? Everyone else going about their day which is a mood)

The Pirates of the Caribbean one is hyper realistic but Sora still looks like anime guy which is weird

Maleficent is keeps being a boss bitch but still dies for it

Doors and keys are super important

Sora and Riku have heartless but theirs get people forms but they don’t look like who they come from that shit is reversed for some reason

There’s like 3-4 just for Sora and none of them look like him

Riku got a stalker in some guy named Xnort(???how spell???) who possesses Riku at some point

This Xnort little old ass seems to have a habit of this possession thing and uses time travel?? to just keep possessing people

Eyes turn yellow when he does

He started a war for a specific heart??

Keyblade War (no idea what this is or means I just know it’s a thing)

There’s another trio that timeline wise came before the OG trio from the first game that was in the war

Xnort got the buff guy one, the other guy is in Sora but not?? turned into sparkles and possessed Sora but also didn’t, and the blue haired girl is out here working the hardest but she on a deserted island in the void

Micky also ends up chilling with her there at some point

Woody roasts a guy

How the fuck does the Toy Story world work if there’s people and sentient toys???? Why does Sora become a toy there if he a people

Sora wasn’t supposed to wield the keyblade Riku was but his dumbass got corrupted so Sora got it (?)

Riku got another one

I think everyone has kinda died at some point but they all got better

Sora got trapped in dream world by blonde Kari that drew pictures about it

Blonde Kari isn’t evil she was just chilling with a comatose Sora

Riku went through a lot to get his boyfriend back

There’s an organization that’s connected to Xnort guy that wears black robes

There is another set of Riku, Sora and Kari copies there

The third Kari black haired goes out Master Oogway style but with glitter

There’s a red haired guy there that talks big shit but is constantly getting his ass kicked

There are so many spin-off games that have a lot of lore in them and the titles only make sense to people deep in the fandom trenches and lore

Those titles got fractions and shit in them

The Disney princesses played a major role at some point but idk if that’s still a thing

Those stain glass window levels are gorgeous

Sora is a people pleaser who dies for it

But unlike everyone else getting better from it, as he also has in the past, Sora is now gone gone but also not and next game may be in basically purgatory which is kinda our world (so many jokes there)

Riku gonna be on quest 2 of save his boyfriend and is sad now cause of it

Poor Riku he went through his emo phase in the first game and now his punishment for it is running after and saving a serial self sacrificing people pleaser that can’t say no and who keeps dieing from it

Let me know if I was close at all to being right about some things and what I got wrong.

#kingdom hearts #kh #idk this isn’t in any order just what I could recall #I’ve mostly just seen fanart of the games