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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hhrequests #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnhacity

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violet-t-9 · 3 years

Text

Check in on my (not very realistic) wish list for episode 135

1. The M9 eventually find a way to catch up with Lucien and Cree before they are able to go to the astral sea and at least start the combat (Bonus: Cree gets a wild magic effect that gives M9 some advantage or laughs).

Doesn’t look like it’s gonna happen. Well, I’m still personally REALLY happy that they all decided to explore a little bit much and ended up with combat lol. I love the heavy lore dump, reveals, map and the Aeorian nullifier/others combat, all part of the D&D fun.

2. Caleb and Beau somehow don’t get any extra eyes from their dreams (look, let me have some hope alright, last episode was kinda open-ended).

Noooo not on the clavicle and the palm... These stupid eyes are the reason why the empire siblings rolled bad rolls first thing in the morning, I’m telling you.

3. People on watch in the dome have some one-on-one conversations (Yasha and Fjord are doing the first watch, looking forward to it, also hoping for whoever on the second watch to talk).

Nope :( I’m a bit sad that they just kind of time skipped to the morning but it’s understandable.

4. If the empire siblings do get eyes can we at least have a morning eye check routine and Essek’s reaction to it? (Bonus: Essek examines the eye and offers help in some way)

I mean, we got part of a nice conversation about the eye so that counts as a reaction right. Essek is very wary about it, understandably. Don’t worry Essek, Fjord will take care of it if the eyes turn them evil.

5. More wild magic effects from casting in Aeor! Jester, Essek, Caleb, Caduceus, Veth and Fjord I’m looking at y’all. (Bonus: the effects are harmless and fun ones, like Bjald)

OH NO CALEB not first thing in the morning... wow never mind it’s a nice nostalgic smell! Apple tart, how awesome. I mean a lot of people used higher level magic and didn’t roll yet (or maybe they did we just don’t know)? This particular effect was harmless and fun tho.

6. They explore the Aeorian ruins even more along the way and discover cool relics/labs/history and lore (Bonus: clues related to the Eyes of Nine).

Ayyy genesis ward looks like a fun place, thanks to their high investigation rolls we found so much sweet lore. They also went into underground city ruins and basically wizard paradise lol. AND A BOOK ON THE SOMNOVEM! This is the first clue we have found so far. Also, Factorum Mollis project/Creator Hammer? Athodan’s rejuvenation/dunamancy? The plot thickens. THEY FOUND WHERE THEY NEED TO GO! B9!

7. Beau and Yasha have fun with some shameless PDA OR alternatively they get some super private time (bonus: cuddles in the dome).

I love their morning flirting. “That was amazing babe”, “Jump I’ll catch you!”, “Come here baby”, that’s some shameless PDA right there we love to see it. ALSO, Marisha said “we are doing PDA it’s a thing” and I feel so validated right now.

8. Jester and Fjord heal each other at least one time OR have a deep conversation (bonus: Jester complimenting Bjald).

They didn’t heal each other/converse BUT they had some nice moments! Fjord holds Jester’s ankles and waist at her request, how cute!

9. Continuing to hope for Essek’s fancy dunamantic spells OR magical items (I just love his style and flair okay).

OG Fortune’s Favour!! Thanks Essek. Identifying the keycard was also helpful. Essek giving Veth a pearl and telling her to aim it was so funny lol. LEVEL 4 LIGHTNING BOLT? What spell/item is that? Wow Essk is well-equipped.

10. They talk seriously OR laugh together about Bjald/smooth Fjord (Bonus: Veth disses Bjald just because) but Fjord eventually gets his hair back.

Wow straight out of the gate lol, Veth doesn’t wait (they are seriously expending spell slots for this). Also Veth cannot stop trying to grab his illusory hair. She also tells Devexian that Fjord is not a robot despite him not having hair I can’t even- Also, rejuvenation tube gave Bjald hair back and a long rest, great!

11. Continuing to hope for Caleb to polymorph into anything really, or using polymorph on any party member (polymorph! Caleb interactions my beloved).

Sparrow! Caleb my beloved! “I’m adorable” indeed, he totally is adorable. Landing on Jester, Fjord and Charlie must have been fun.

12. More moments of Essek’s trust issue (OR changes in his opinion) with Charlie and more moments of Charlie being helpful to the party.

Charlie was a very competent translator! Also, Essek does continue to have a lot of trust issues.

13. Jester and Charlie cute interactions OR Veth and Charlie interactions (Bonus: They reach the genesis ward to fix Charlie).

Charlie stopped listening when Jester asked him to, how cute! Veth also advocated for Charlie’s repair because she is already 100% attached - and they did fix Charlie I MEAN DEVEXIAN. Veth’s flirting with Devexian is... kinda cute? I guess?? Not sure how Devexian feels about it lol.

14. Cad attempting to speak with the dead on the remaining TT members (there is still Otis and Zoran right) and learning some useful information.

Well, speak with the dead was cast on the dead Aeorian warrior and some useful information was learned about the rejuvenation chamber I’d say. It was not cast on the TT members though.

15. Caleb casting fire spell challenge! I miss his signature fire magic that we have not seen in a long time, actually (Bonus: Essek is impressed).

Well fire bolt is a fire spell and actually does decent damage for a fire bolt.

16. Cad has a particularly badass moment in or out of combat (bonus: divine intervention success).

HOLY THAT BANISHMENT WAS SO BADASS, also that canceled nat 20 on Yasha. Wow Cad continues to be cool in battles, he is such a MVP!!

17. Veth has a particularly badass moment in or out of combat (bonus: HDYWTDT).

I mean all Veth’s sneak attacks are badass in my book.

18. The wizards nerd out about/investigate Aeorian magic together OR have another conversation (look, I love how they talk to each other okay).

WOW both happened! Essek stayed behind with Caleb in the record room and had a conversation to keep him on track. Right after, Caleb also reminded Essek of the same thing. Once again, I love how they talk to each other. Their dynamic is so fascinating. They also nerd out about/found dunamis (and a literal beacon piece) together in that chamber! That would make sense, time magic = rejuvenation and all that.

19. I know this is highly unlikely but I still kinda want to see the tower again with Essek getting a full tour! I want to see his room decor.

Nope, as expected lol. I don’t think we will see the tower until they deal with Lucien? We will see though, you never know.

20. We find out what exactly Capeleb/Caleb saw when Jester was casting commune/scry (it’s totally something Artagan-related, but what though?).

Nope, but it’s fine. It’s probably not urgent, otherwise Caleb would mention it.

21. Yasha pushes another red button and Beau enabling her out of love.

Yasha went “do it” as Fjord went in the tube lol so she was more of an enabler.

22. You know the drill by now - everyone remains relatively happy and alive by the end of the episode except Lucien and Cree (they can perish), and the episode ends on a terrifying cliffhanger as always.

Wow that episode was PACKED with so much information, I can’t even digest it all. Anyways, the score this time is 14/22, which is not bad at all.

Bonus:

Caleb shared half of his pearls with Essek! Also, wow that IS a beacon that they just found. The 3 magic users showboating each other at the end I can’t lmao I love them.

I just love all the noises of the Aeorian Nullifier, thank you Matt.

Jester, for that wand of smiles move, I love you even more (also she was the only one who actually tried to keep the party on task lol).

This episode will certainly need some re-watching to process all the information... but wow what an experience! Loving everything, as always. I cannot wait for next Thursday!

#cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #c2e135 #live blog #cr live blog #manifest list #the mighty nein #campaign 2 #critical role

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

All That Glitters

Summary: Pandora’s box is a black box covered in silk and embossed with the initials R.S.

a/n: So uh this work is a follow up to my fic Better Die than Doubt but it can be read as a stand alone. This thing resulted from the combined might of @knightfall05x, @lucy-roo, and my thirst. I said the follow up to that fic would be fluffy. The chronological follow up will come out at some point. I just have a single braincell and it decided it wanted to write more Black Mask being an absolute bastard. Thanks to those two hoes for enabling and proof reading. See you both in hell

warnings: This is smut. I was being haunted. This work contains noncon, past noncon, violence, Roman being an asshole, daddy kink, size kink, strength kink (if you squint ), yandere themes, stalking, exhibitionism, a dude who cannot take no for an answer and choking.

masterlist

“Hey Jay,” You chirp into the phone, maneuvering it over your shoulder carefully so you wouldn't drop it while you held your soda can at an arm's length away from you hoping it wouldn’t explode on you when you attempt to open it.

“Hey, sweet-” You blow out a raspberry halting the correction in its tracks. You can practically picture Jason’s mouth swerve into an odd shape caught between proceeding with his correction or backtracking. He chose neither. You hear him swear viciously. You snort making him huff.

“What’s up, asshat?” He asks, endearingly. You can pretty much hear him rolling his eyes from this side of the world. You frown hearing how winded he sounded.

“Jay, if this is a bad time, I can-”

“You’re fine it’s just a little-”

“JAYBIRD, A LITTLE HELP WOULD BE NICE”

“Roy sounds like he needs help. I can call back later.”

“Roy can handle himself.”

“Thanks for the confidence, Jaybird, but I think I’d prefer if you kept shooting straight.”

You snort feeling warmth build up in your chest despite the chilly weather. You chirp delighted when you open the can and it doesn’t explode. You hear Jason chuckle. The smart remark he had on the edge of his tongue dies on his lips when your breath hitches audibly at the sound of his gun firing. Jason makes a noise, the kind you use to prompt someone to tell you if they’re ok without having to ask. You swallow and nod and curse remembering he can’t see you. You blow out a breath, making sure it comes out steady.

“Y/n...”

“I’m-” You wanted to say fine but you knew the word fine was wholly inappropriate and untrue for this situation. “I’m gonna survive. I promise.”

Jason doesn’t make a sound of agreement or disagreement. He simply acknowledges it. You silently thank him for the neutrality.

“JAYBIRD”

“SHUT UP, HARPER”

You hear Kory sigh in exasperation somewhere in the distance. In the background, you hear a shriek which you assume is from Jason. Then the line cuts out.

You try to redial.

Nothing.

You try again.

Nothing.

A laugh rips out of your chest. You cry out in pain, the fizzy drink rushing up your nose. You wince and curse and settle on blaming Jason. You suspect they somehow broke the phone. You wouldn’t be too surprised by that outcome. You sigh but there was no point in complaining about it. You might as well finish your lunch in peace.

You chew on your cheek as you walk back to your cubicle, everyone’s eyes are on you. You feel your breathing pick up a fraction of a second faster.

One

Two

Fuck

You dig your nails into your palm. Your footfalls become heavier and a little louder even against the white noise around you. You slowdown and shake your head. You haven’t had an attack at work so far and you aren’t about to start now. You inhale deeply, letting your chest expand as you run through the things Dinah taught you.

Take stock of the situation around you.

The world around you was buzzing with life-shuffling papers, ringing phones, humming of machines, and blips of voices here and there. The room is bright and clean under the light of sterile fluorescent lights. You take in all the voices around you. You’re not alone. The knot building in your shoulders loosens. You continue.

Take stock of your body.

Your body is trembling, the beginnings of a panic attack looming over you. Instead of cursing it, you let it. It was only natural to relapse once in a while. The trauma wasn’t fresh. Not in your opinion, at least. Dinah and, apparently, everyone else had a different opinion. You’re good at being ok but you were human. You let out a long breath, half-tempted to let your eyes slide shut but you’re afraid of finding yourself in that room again, of seeing him, of feeling him on you. Revulsion spasmed in your body in powerful waves. Sure, you’re a showboat, Jay had said as much, but showing off and causing a scene were two entirely different things and you weren’t entirely sure you could endure the looks of pity from your coworkers every time you came through those doors.

Stiffly, you walk towards your cubicle. Your neighbor, Chelsea, smiling conspiratorially at you while your manager glares daggers at you. You raise an eyebrow at Chelsea who waggles her eyebrows in return.

“This is how you tell me I got fired?” You sigh, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth.

Chelsea rolls her eyes at you. “Nope, but the boss man did want me to tell you to tell your boyfriend that he really shouldn’t be sending you gifts at work but honestly, I …...” Your brows knit in confusion, cold dread licking at the pit of your stomach.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You say slowly trying to keep the mounting panic out of your voice. You could hear your blood pulsating in your ears, heart threatening to jump out of your chest. Your feet are itching for you to run outside and call Jason or Dinah or anyone but the stupider part of you- the curious part of you was clawing at your mind to proceed.

“Y/n, are- are you ok?” You blink and look at the clock. Two minutes. You blacked out for two minutes which, if you were being totally honest, was a huge improvement.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you say so” She shrugs, her eyes still not pulling away from you.

Mechanically, you turn to your desk. Your entire being freezes when your eyes land on the black box sitting on the desk and the large bouquet of red roses sitting next to it. The box was rectangular, black with silver trimmings embossed on it. Large ‘R.S.’ written in fancy lettering at the bottom right corner of the lid. You wanted to vomit.

You draw a breath and flex your fingers. You can feel your teeth digging into your cheeks.

“Hey, Chel?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow some tissues?” You ask your voice barely above a whisper but still miraculously steady. She frowns at your handing you a couple of tissues. Normally, you keep your vigilante habits out of your civilian life but considering the initials embossed on this obnoxiously expensive-looking box sitting on your desk, you think this level of paranoia is justified.

You stop to calculate the odds that the box contained explosives which turns up zero. You sigh but a shiver climbs up your spine when you run through the possibilities of what Roman could have thought of as a gift.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” If Chelsea wasn’t watching you before, she was now. You glance at her quickly and give her a weak smile. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. Cautiously, you lift the lid quietly regretting not calculating the possibility of anything toxic being in it. You’re honestly surprised nothing happened. You roll your eyes upon seeing the expensive-looking black silk covering the inside.

Yes, rub your money in my face while you scare me shitless why don’t you, you fucking asshole, you think grumpily peeling the fabric away.

Your heart comes to a full stop when you’re met with a pair of lacy lingerie. Your lacy lingerie. Your USED lacy lingerie. You blink trying not to focus on the white stains. You sincerely did not want to think about that. Moving them aside you find a bloody shirt, the sound of its shifting fabric making gooseflesh spread all over your body.

You recognize it. You didn’t want to, but here it was. The bloodstains were dry but they were still visible even against the dark fabric of the shirt. Your skin prickles where the scars on your body sit. The knife wounds sting and throb as if freshly cut. It takes everything in you not to vomit.

It was probably the single-minded curiosity that kept you going. You maneuver the shirt carefully making sure it makes as little sound as possible. Underneath it is a collar, simple but clearly expensive leather with the tag R.S. glittering under the sterile lights. Your throat constricts. You tear your gaze away. Your eyes sting. Next to it was a stack of photos. The top photo showed you with your, shirt torn exposing your breasts. Someone was inside you, gripping your hips. You gag. You reign your mind in. You flip the stack over and gather your breath. Your heart stops again when you see Roman’s familiar handwriting on the back of a photo.

“Miss me?”

The drive back to your apartment was a blur consisting of what was most likely several severe traffic violations but you needed- you need to get out of town as quickly as possible. The odds of Roman himself showing up to your little town was low, very low. Not that you’ve actually calculated it. You don’t need to. The man walks around like his feet bless every surface they touch. The man has a loaded god complex the size of Russia to put it generously. Fetching you was simply beneath him. He had henchmen for a reason after all.

You wave to your landlady and her husband amiably as you walk past them keeping the nervous thrum out of your movement. Your landlady returns the gesture, elbowing her sneering husband. You know what he thinks of you and your habits. Take a few guys home with you and suddenly you’re a slut. Your promiscuity was none of his fucking business. Your body was yours to do with, to give, and to take back. It was yours. It’s yours, you assure yourself but the feeling of your body and mind hanging loosely off of each other feels painfully vivid at the moment.

You shake your head. This wasn’t the best time to sort out your hang-ups.

You press your ear to your apartment door then remembered just how thick it was and remembered that you didn’t exactly have super hearing. You sigh. What you would give to be Supes right about now. You enter the apartment careful not to make your steps audible. That, however, was rendered moot by the two very large and blocky men standing in your living room. You exhale both in frustration and relief. If Roman Fucking Sionis thinks he can scare you with two meatheads, he was clearly insulting you. Well, at least, he didn’t hire anyone actually competent considering all your gear was in a duffle bag tucked neatly away under your bed. Yanno, just for this sort of eventuality. Now that you think about it. You really should have just kept it in your car but small-town crime seems to have softened you.

You smile letting the irritation mold you into something sharp and venomous. You throw the box at one of the henchmen goading them to attack you. Its contents scattering all over the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care that some of the photos land right side up.

“Tell your chicken shit of a boss to come scare me himself,” You laugh, manic relief flooding through you. You feel like you’re going mad but you don’t care. It’s so much more feasible to deal with these men than it is to have to even think about Roman. “He doesn’t even have the balls to-”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Sweetheart.” comes a gravelly voice from the bedroom. Your stomach drops. Roman strides out of your bedroom adjusting the cuff link of his obnoxiously expensive suit. He looks down to the photos and gifts scattered on the ground, frowning he bends down to pick up the collar, dusting it off and stuffing it in his pocket.

Your fight or flight response freezes. You back into the door, the material feeling too solid for the moment. You inhale sharply, only managing short shallow breaths as Roman slowly closes the distance between you. His footfalls loud, heavy, and deliberately casual making your blood thrum.

No. No. No.

Your eyes flicker wildly around the room looking for any weapon within reach, your mind running through the numbers, the probabilities melding together into incoherent blotches of red in the back of your skull. Roman slams his large hands on either side of your head. The impact makes the door creak. You can’t stop yourself from flinching visibly, surprise and fear carving themselves on to your face. Roman barks out a derisive laugh as he trails a leather-clad finger down your chin, your throat, then to your cleavage. The contact against your bare skin makes you bristle.

“This here?” He emphasizes, his fingers playing with the top button of your shirt popping it carelessly revealing your baby pink, lace bra hidden beneath. “This is a little low cut for the office, isn’t it, princess?”

Annoyance overwhelms your sense of self-preservation. “I’m not about to take fashion advice from a guy who looks like he watches Scar Face daily.” You snipe, teeth bared. Roman hums the undercurrent of rage filling the air. Your ribs ache, remembering an old injury. Your mouth slams shut cutting off any other snide remarks.

“You wear these clothes to wind me up, don’t you?” Roman drawls, his leather-clad fingers tracing up the expanse of your thigh exposed by the slit of your skirt, bunching up the skirt and playing with the waistband of your thong as he does so. His thumbs pressing circles against your inner thigh, you can’t help but quiver under his touch. “Oh the fun hasn’t even started yet...just wait”, he bites your ear lobe and tugs it between his teeth. He pulls back and glares at you. “Do you want to know how I found you in this dead-end town, princess?” He asks tilting your chin with his gloved hand. You shake your head not really interested at the moment. You’re too distracted by how flush your body was getting as he presses you further into the door with his bulk. You note with disgust the arousal suffusing through your limbs.

“You were all over the news, sweetheart,” You’re trying to remember what he could possibly be talking about. He leans in closer, leather-clad hand brushing against his thumb against your bottom lip, your lips parting automatically for him. He places his gloved thumb between your parted lips. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize that goofy smile of yours?” You shiver lips wrapping around the intruding digit. Your tongue flicks and swirls around it in a practiced gesture. “Good girl.” Roman hums, a grin spreading across his face while thick shame blankets you. You frown at how familiar the taste of the glove is against your tongue. You push your thoughts away wishing your mind would fall away.

“Baby,” He draws his hand away from your lips, wiping the thin string of saliva on your face. His hands glide down the sides of your body. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize these hips?” His hands grab at your hips roughly, lifting you and pulling them flush against his own. “Baby. I know what’s mine and this time I won’t let you get away from me.” He whispers against your neck, voice husky and rough. You swallow feeling his lips brush against your pulse.

Roughly, he wedges a thigh between your legs, the friction against your core making you keen. The friction woke something in you and loosened a few other things. Your hips roll desperately against the thick muscle of his thighs. Roman grins against your neck, loosening his grip on your hips and letting you fuck yourself on his thigh. You will yourself to stop but the heat twisting in your gut is too much. You hate yourself. You well and truly hate yourself. Your cheeks warm, breath coming out in pants.

Roman places a kiss on your collarbone, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. Your tongue is caught between your teeth to hold back a moan but the shiver spreading throughout your body says it too loudly. Roman chuckles, vibrations deep within his chest making you weak. Roman licks a stripe up your neck, planting kisses and hickeys along your jaw. “God, you taste sweet, princess.” He murmurs hot against your neck, the smirk dripping from his voice. It feels like acid against your skin.

He guides your pliant arms to loop around his shoulders. You obey soundlessly, tipping your head back giving him room to ravish your neck. He does with unbridled enthusiasm. You feel trapped in your own body. You don’t want this. You want to push him away but the fear coursing through you leaves you a passenger in your own body. Your breath hitches with each bite and kiss.

“Mine.” He rumbles resolutely, sliding the cloth of your top placing a bite on your shoulder. It stings without even looking, you know it’s deep.

“No” You whisper, low and unsure.

“No?” He challenges pulling away from your shoulder.

“No” You echo voice frustratingly unsteady. He sneers down at you, smile condescending. A biting rebellious part of you demands that you snarl and spit something brisque and witty at him but it’s pushed down by something viscous filling your chest. How are you drowning and why are you not dead yet?

Just let it pass, your mind whispers to itself. Just let him get his fill and he’ll be on his way. You don’t even have to get hurt. You sincerely want to believe this. You just want this to not happen. The thought of it summons a wave of nausea deep within you. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes. You blink rapidly chasing them away. He likes it when you cry.

“Baby, you can’t tell me you don’t want this,” He emphasizes, pressing his thigh against your sopping pussy. The pressure makes you whine. “Not when you’re being all cute and fucking yourself on my thigh like the dirty slut you are.”

No. No. No.

Rat-tat.

You will your hips to stop their movement but they’re too lost in their momentum. Your eyes flicker to Roman’s men, large eyes pleading. They stand stiffly doing their best to ignore you. They’re doing a damn fine job of it.

“Oh they won’t do anything, they’re here to watch,” Roman whispers hotly against your ear. Your eyes flicker to them again. Your breath catching when your eyes meet one of theirs, seeing not an ounce of pity. You shove the bile rising in your throat and the quirk on their lips deep somewhere else, somewhere away from you.

You try to squirm away but Roman’s arm presses into your windpipe pinning you in place. You thrash and kick and hiss but your head feels light. You hear fabric shift and you still. The sound of the zipper is too loud and too real.

Roman takes your lips in a forceful kiss making you gasp. His tongue forces its way into your mouth. He releases your neck. You feel his fingers trail up the slits of your skirt. You try to focus on them rather than what’s pressing stiffly against your inner thigh. The fabric of your skirt bunch up by your hips. You feel your panties getting pushed aside by large fingers. You whimper again, clawing at the expensive fabric of Roman’s suit. “Please don’t do this.” You plead breathily against his ear.

He laughs, voice gravelly and harsh. Without further warning or preparation or ceremony, Roman shoves himself inside your warmth, pushing you further into the door. You gasp, the burning stretch making your body tremble all over. He bottomed out with a loud groan. You wanted to cover your ears or have your mind fall out of your reach but here it was painfully present along with your frozen body. He’s loud, groaning and panting as he fucks into you. He thrusts into you with wild abandon, hips clashing against each other with bruising intensity. You can feel his cock dragging in and out of you, hitting every spot violently. He wants this to hurt. You hope it would too.

Your cheeks burn with how your walls spasm around his cock. You want to push him away, to take him out of you but it feels so good. You try to smother the lewd sounds you make into his shirt. Roman’s hands squeeze tightly around your waist in warning. “Yeah, that's it, baby. Let daddy know how much you want this.” You don’t protest. Instead, you let your mouth hang open and let the lewd mewls and keens tumble out. He drills into you more violently seemingly spurred on by your sounds.

You come with a whimper. You want to bury yourself in a hole. He comes not long after still fucking into you as he does, making sure your pussy takes all of his cum.

He pulls out of you, the slick sound of it absolutely sinful. Your body is slack against the door, too drained to hold itself up. Roman pulls back, grinning down at you and whistling appreciatively as he admires his work. “Let’s dress you back up, sweetheart.” Roman coos locking something around your neck. You don’t need to look down to know what he’s put there. The cool metal of the R.S. hanging off the collar presses stark against your hot sensitive skin.

“You look sooo much better like this,” Blearily you look past him. Your duffle bag is already in the arms of one of his men. He grabs your face roughly making you look him in the eyes. “All mine- just as you should be.”

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Thanks for reading! I swear I will do more fluff in the near future. I just needed this out of my system.

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell

#yandere blackmask #yandere dc #yandere roman sionis #reader insert #dc reader insert #warning: smut #dc smut #black mask x reader #roman sionis x reader #yandere roman sionis x reader #my writing

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breanime · 4 years

Text

Bre’s Boys Preference: How They React To You Being in Danger

Billy Russo: Billy is merciless. While you’re life is at stake, everyone and anyone is on his shit list. He is ready and willing to kill anyone who gets in his way of saving you, and when he finds the people who threatened your life in the first place... Heads will roll. You’re his, and he will do anything to keep you safe. Anyone who tries to take you from him is dead. He doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, doesn’t rest until he gets you back and he’s practically bathed in his enemy’s blood. And even then, he’s still on edge. His anger is so strong and palatable, every inch of him is tense, he moves like a panther in the jungle, ready to attack at all times. The only thing that brings him any peace is you; he’s carefully controlled around you, touching you gently once he has you back in his arms. And as he holds you, he says those three words that Billy Russo never imagined hearing himself say: “I’m so sorry”.

Logan Delos: He panics. Like, it takes him a while to regain his composure. He’s on the floor, eyes wide and full of tears, chest heaving as he thinks of all of the horrible things that could be having to you. But he gathers himself, standing up on his shaky legs, and does whatever he can to get you back. He spares no expensive, hiring the most capable people to track you down, and he insists on going with them. Once he has you back, Logan finally allows himself to cry openly, his head buried in your hair. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he says, as if you’d left on your own accord, “I was so scared... I love you, I love you, I love you”.

Jax Teller: Jax wants BLOOD. He calls on the club, and they do whatever it takes to bring you back to him. Jax doesn’t care who gets in his way--he mows them down with ease to get to you. No one can get through to him--not Clay, Gemma, Opie, or Chibs--Jax is willing to set Charming on fire to get you back. And when he does get you back, he’s still not done. He holds you to his chest, so hard that it almost hurts, and he promises to never let this happen again. He makes it his personal mission to track down every single person who had anything to do with your abduction--no matter how low level they were--and make them pay.

Coco Cruz: Coco gets so upset, he blacks out for a minute. The last thing he remembers doing is punching a hole in the wall. When he comes to, he doesn’t wait for Bishop’s approval; he just hits the street with Angel and Gilly. It doesn’t take him long to get to you--he uses his sniper skills to shoot down any and every obstacle that gets in his way. Every word out of his mouth is “fuck” or “shit”, and when he comes face to face with the person who put your precious life in danger--he takes great pleasure in stabbing him nice and slow, watching the life drain from his eyes. Then he’s over to you, grabbing you and pulling you to him, assessing you for injuries. If there are any--he’s memorizing them, categorizing them in his mind because he believes that they were all his fault. “I’m so sorry, querida,” he says, “I’m so sorry...”

Angel Reyes: Angel calls EZ, and the two brothers hit the road. Eventually, the club catches up to them, and the Mayans track you down within a day. The entire time they’re looking for you, Angel’s blood is red hot. He can’t sit still, he can barely breathe, he breaks all of the speeding laws to get to you. He’s surprisingly callous in his revenge, killing without hesitation, without joy. But when he gets to you, it’s like he wakes up from a nightmare--his eyes are warm again, and when he touches you, his caresses are gentle and careful. Angel doesn’t let you out of his sight for days after that, always holding you and kissing you. And when he does have to leave you alone for more than a few hours, he insists on having EZ come sit with you, or takes you to Felipe’s until he can come and get you.

Miguel Galindo: If his half-brother is all heat and fire, Miguel is ice-cold. He’s methodical with his anger, making sure to dispatch men to all corners of the country in search of you. But he isn’t sitting idle, Miguel is out too, Nestor and Alvarez at his side. He takes a few people off of the street and plops them down on his church pew. He spends a nice deal of time cutting limbs off and collecting information, and by the end of it all, he’s led to you. Miguel picks you up and carries you away, and for the rest of the night, he’s taking care of you. He puts you in the tub, sliding in behind you and holding you close. After that, he’s lathering you up with your favorite scents and then rubbing you down with lotions. He can’t stop kissing you, and as you sleep--finally able to rest now that you were safe--he watches you, his dark eyes staring at you while his head conjures up all the ways he could have lost you, and he vows...this will never happen again.

Nick Amaro: Nick calls upon his brothers in blue when he finds out that you’re in danger. The NYPD (as unruly as they are), leave no stone unturnt in their search of you. Nick is so tense, he can barely take a step without flipping a chair or punching a wall. He’s just seen so many terrible things in his career, the thought of anything like that happening to you... It makes his want to scream. He reaches Stabler-levels of aggression when interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’s almost taken off the case, but Benson has his back. When he finds you, Nick holds you close, his embrace both firm and careful as he holds you. He’s with you all the way, sitting with you at the hospital, staying at your side when you’re interviewed by the cops; Nick doesn’t leave you for a second. He’s still a bit on edge, but your presence definitely helps calm him as the night goes on. And when he lays down with you that night, he finally lets himself relax.

Johnny Tuturro: Johnny trusts and respects your ability to protect yourself, he really does, but he’s still worried when you go missing. He spends all day trying to track you down, and when he can’t, he turns to Charlie. She’s the one who discovers that you’re in danger, and once she does--the whole house is on alert. Johnny, Mike, and Briggs hit the streets in search of you, and once the find the ones who took you, Mike and Briggs have to pull Johnny off of them. When Johnny gets to you, he softens immediately, holding you and whispering how scared he was, telling you “you’re okay, you’re okay” for a minute straight. It’s hard for him, after that, not to get a knot of anxiety in his chest whenever you go out, but he knows that you know what you’re doing, and worse come to worse--he’ll always be there for you when you need him.

Rio: No smiles, no smirks, no chuckles. Rio is all business. He’s armed to the teeth, and anyone can see the tension in his body as he moves, his eyes glaring ahead of him. Rio takes no prisoners and pulls no punches. Either someone gives him the information he needs and only gets a little fucked up, or they tell him no, or something he doesn’t like, and get killed. Either way, he finds his way to you quickly, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Rio doesn’t waste time on extravagant speeches or showboating once he finds you. He puts a bullet in the guy’s skull, and then empties the clip in him for extra measures. Then and only then, does he let his body unclench. He keeps a hand on you at all times; a hand on your thigh as he drives you home, his fingers in your hair as he undresses you, his mouth on yours as he holds your naked body to his. Rio treats you like a queen always, but he’s especially soft and gentle with you now. Afterwards, you lay in bed together, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Go to sleep, mama,” he says, a small smile on his face, “I ain’t going nowhere...and neither are you.”

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Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! This was unapologetically self-indulgent of me haha (requests are still closed)

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#Billy Russo x reader #logan delos x reader #jax teller x reader #coco cruz x reader #angel reyes x reader #miguel galindo x reader #nick amaro x reader #johnny tuturro x reader #rio x reader #bre's boys #bre's boys preferences

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years

Text

The Third Path

Some new ghost hunters have come to town, but are they really ghost hunters, or something else?

When a human dies, there are three paths the freed soul can take. Most are sent straight to the After. However, some stay behind.

“Excuse me, dear girl, but may I have a moment of your time!”

Valerie frowned at the shout and turned her board around to see a Latina woman staring at her with a curious smile. She had knee-length black hair that, alongside her long white dress, swirled around her from her spot on the edge of a skyscraper’s roof.

The ghost hunter immediately dove down towards the woman, holding up her hands. “Woah, hey now. There’s no need for that. Come down from there and we can talk about this.”

The woman frowned, then smiled again as she climbed down and stepped back until there were a good five feet between her and the edge. “Apologies, I did not mean to frighten you. I simply wished to gain your attention. I did not anticipate you taking my position in such a way.”

“Right,” Valerie said slowly dropping down to the roof and banishing her board. “How can I help you?”

The woman hummed, staring at where her board had been before looking up at her.

A shiver went up Valerie’s spine at the neon blue color of the woman’s eyes, but it was washed away a second later by a wave of contentment that filled her.

“My name is Adelaida. I and my people have come to this town to assist with the demonic presence that plagues you.”

Valerie’s eyes widened. “Demonic? You mean the ghosts?”

“Yes, that is the term you use for them, isn’t it?”

“You’re ghost hunters?” she asked cautiously. More ghost hunters wasn’t exactly a bad thing, but only if they were actually helpful. Most of the ghost hunters Valerie has met were absolutely useless while the G.I.W. did more damage than the ghosts. The Fenton’s at least knew what they were doing, even if they tended to be a little trigger happy and often late to the party.

“In a sense. We hoped to gain information on the demons -- or ghosts -- that most commonly plague you. We have already sought out the matriarch and patriarch of the Fenton family as our research painted them as your town’s best hunters and they spoke well of you. As such, we wished to see if you would have any information that might assist us.”

Valerie straightened up with Pride. It was nice that some people appreciated her efforts. She’d never really spoken to the Fentons in her hunting persona -- too worried they’d recognize her -- and everyone else either opposed her because of her fights with Phantom or was Masters, and Masters was one wrong move away from a face full of ecto-ray.

“They did not inform us that you use demonic relics to fight with, however.”

She flinched. She wasn’t exactly happy to be using ghost-made weapons, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her suit was far and away the best of the best and let her keep up with ghosts in ways no other human could. “Well, fight fire with fire and all that.”

“I suppose.”

She frowned at the disgust in Adelaida’s voice. “It’s not that different from the ecto-weapons the Fentons have created.”

“No, but those are distasteful as well.”

“Well, what do you use?” If Adelaida was another one of those people who thought you could fight ghosts with sage and horseshoes, Valerie was taking off without another word. Where did people even get ideas like that?

“My people have access to an energy that is the polar opposite of the energy used by demons, the matter to their antimatter so to speak. It can be quite painful to ghosts and does not burden us with using such horrific devices.”

Valerie felt her annoyance with the woman’s haughtiness growing, but shoved it down in curiosity at the idea of some sort of anti-ectoplasm. “Really? How did you get your hands on something like that? Did your people develop it?”

“In a way. But that is not why I’m here. Tell me, what do you know of the demons that plague this town?”

She shrugged. “Too much to tell. There’s a ghost for every day of the year and they all show up at random. The short of it though is one ghost. Well, two, but Box Ghost is more a nuisance than a threat.”

Adelaida nodded. “The Fenton’s mentioned the box obsessed demon. I suppose the other you referenced is the one who refers to itself as Danny Phantom.”

“Yeah, him.” Valerie scowled. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about the ghost-boy. Every time she considered going back to hunting him, all she could think about was him pleading for her to let him save Dani and him holding out his hands after so she could capture him once more. She thought about the times they’d worked together and how he’d only ever betrayed her by telling her father her secret to keep her from what she knew was a suicide mission.

The woman must have misread her scowl as she said, “Yes, I understand your frustration. The Fenton’s told us much about the hero act the demon uses to gain favor in the town and we agree that its tie to this plane is likely its need for attention. Given its age, it was likely either an unwanted or neglected child or one who hoarded such attention in life, such as a prince or celebrity. It has clearly come to find that displays of kindness are its best bet to gain this attention and should the attention ever wane, it will undoubtedly return to its early acts of vandalism and violence to satisfy its obsession once more.”

Even though she nodded along, Valerie couldn’t help but disagree as she’d done before when she’d heard such things from the Fenton’s. Phantom didn’t like attention, he had run away from his phans and hidden from news copters enough for that to be obvious. Sure, he was a showboat, but he never stuck around after a fight. If Phantom had an obsession -- which Valerie didn’t buy -- it was probably fighting. Or maybe just Amity Park in general. He’d certainly claimed it as his territory, judging by the fact that a few of the ghosts that could be found skulking about often complained about how “Phantom said we could stay!” and would go cry to him if she tried to capture them.

“Is there anything else you could tell us?”

Valerie considered saying something about Masters, but she was hesitant to reveal the human-ghost hybrid. If someone discovered him, how long until they discovered Dani? She wouldn’t be the reason the girl was in danger again. “Careful with Phantom. He’s a lot more powerful than most of the ghosts we see around here and he’s got allies.”

“Allies?”

“Most don’t know it, but Phantom lets some ghosts stick around. He’ll protect them if we come after them, so I wouldn’t put it past them to return the favor if he needed it.”

“Vassals then,” Adelaida hummed. “That could be promising. The Fenton’s did not mention that. Thank you for your assistance. I will inform my people.” She gave a curtsey and turned to leave.

“Would you like some help?”

The woman looked back at her with a smile as she opened to the door to the rooftop entrance. “We have this under control, young one.”

With that, she was gone.

Valerie frowned as she took back to the air. She briefly wondered if she should reach out to Phantom about this before shoving the thought aside. Even if she wasn’t sure about hunting the ghost-boy, she wasn’t going to help him either. And the woman didn’t give her the same creeps as the G.I.W., so it was probably fine. In fact, the woman had felt warm and comforting.

Although it was admittedly kind of weird that she’d called Valerie young when Adelaida looked like she was maybe in her early twenties at best and the suit made people think Valerie was older than her actual sixteen years. Also, there’d been something off with her eyes. Valerie couldn’t place it, but they’d just felt… uncanny.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“It’s not funny,” Danny muttered, rubbing at his back and scowling at his laughing friend.

“How long until the paint wears off?” Sam chuckled.

“I don’t even know! Young-butt wouldn’t say.”

“What’s going on?” Tucker said, glancing between them as he joined them for their walk home.

“Apparently, Danny forgot to mention that he got ambushed on his way home from his weekend in Olympus,” Sam said, laughter still tinting her voice.

At Tucker’s worried look, Danny elaborated. “Youngblood decided we were going to have a water balloon fight.”

“But instead of water, he filled them with ectoplasmic paint. And now his ghost half is covered in the stuff, even if he transforms.”

“Only my face and hair. Thankfully I was wearing that ceremonial outfit Pandora gave me. I hope she doesn’t want it back before I can figure out how to get the stains out.”

“Ghost OxiClean,” Sam suggested over Tucker’s laughter.

“What color… are… you now?” Tucker asked between chortles.

“A dark purple,” Danny sighed.

Sam pat his head. “Could be worse. You could be red. We’d be forced to make Christmas jokes and then we’d be back to square one with you, Mr. Grinch.”

Danny rolled his eyes and knocked their shoulder together, only to hiss at the pain that shot up his back.

“You okay, dude?” Tucker asked, wiping away tears.

“Yeah, my back just started hurting last night. I thought I’d just pulled something in the fight, but it was even worse this morning. I took some of the pain meds Frostbite gave me, but they wore off.”

“Does your ghost form even have muscles to pull?” Tucker wondered.

“We can head to your house first so we can pick up your pills,” Sam suggested. “It really must be hurting if you actually took them instead of deciding to wait it out.”

It was. It felt like growing pains crossed with the ghost gauntlets, but worse. A throbbing ache that took his breath away with random spikes.

“Thanks.”

They were halfway to his house when Danny’s ghost sense went off and a grey-green arm shot out of an alleyway to drag him in. He braced for a fight, but relaxed slightly when he saw it was Kitty.

She looked rumpled, her hair messed up and her jacket singed with burns littering her skin.

“What’s wrong? Valerie again?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know who attacked us. I couldn’t see them, but I think they were after you. When they captured Johnny and Shadow in a net, I heard one of them say they’d gotten one of Phantom’s vassals, whatever that means.”

“A vassal is someone who is granted land by nobility in return for loyalty, respect, and wartime support,” Sam explained. “It kind of describes the deal you and the others have with Danny, in an archaic way.”

“If you ignore the fact Danny’s not nobility and substitute the loyalty stuff for you guys just not attacking people,” Tucker added.

Kitty’s nose scrunched up at the information, but otherwise ignored it. “Please, you have to help them! We weren’t even doing anything this time!”

Danny gave her an unimpressed look.

“Okay, maybe Johnny destroyed some guy’s car because he was checking me out, but can you blame him.”

“Yes,” Danny said, then sighed. “Fine, but you need to head back to the Ghost Zone as soon as I get your boyfriend out. Try to warn anyone you can on your way. Might be best for everyone to get clear until I figure out what these guys want.”

She agreed immediately and he turned to his friends.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Sam said and Tucker nodded.

“Alright, I’m going ghost!”

Kitty and Danny shot into the air, Danny holding onto Kitty since he was faster while she led him to where she’d last seen Johnny.

They found him on a side street, pinned beneath a net that glowed silver. It certainly didn’t look like anything he was used to. His parents’ tech was all green since it used pure ectoplasm straight from the ghost zone. Valerie’s was a reddish-pink thanks to Technus keeping her aesthetic the same as Vlad’s tech, which was powered by his own energy. The G.I.W.’s was blue due to the purification they did on all the ectoplasm they got their hands on.

Danny looked around as they got closer to the street, but didn’t see anyone. Knowing it was a trap, but with no other choice, they turned invisible and dropped down next to the net.

“Johnny,” Kitty whispered, kneeling next to him.

“Hey Kitten,” he groaned. He looked up at Danny and smirked. “What happened to your face?”

“Shut up.” Seeing the way the net was hurting Johnny, Danny reached out with his energy to pull it off him that way.

The net went flying. Thank you, Pandora! Telekinesis was the best!

“Thanks, kid,” Johnny huffed.

“You know, I’m the same age as you guys now,” Danny said as Kitty helped him stand and Shadow peeled off the ground, looking worse for wear.

“Sure, give or take a few decades,” Johnny snorted.

“Just get out of here befo-” Danny was cut off by a blast to the side that sent him flying. He shrieked as his back hit the asphalt.

“Kid!”

“Go!” he ordered, fighting through the pain to sit up.

Johnny looked conflicted for a moment, then summoned his bike.

As the two rode off, Danny turned to face the direction the blast had come from.

“So you are the one called Danny Phantom?” a man said as he walked out of the shadows.

Danny’s first impression was that the man didn’t look like a hunter. He was taller and thinner than Danny and probably in his late twenties. He wore a tank top and athletic shorts, but no shoes. His dark brown skin was offset by pale gold hair and silver eyes.

Glowing silver eyes.

“You’re a ghost,” Danny groaned. Great, just what he needed: Infighting.

The ghost laughed. “You date yourself, demon. If you can’t recognize me, you must be less than two hundred years.”

“Pretty sure the suit says the same thing, but go off I guess,” Danny snorted as he stood. “Wait, did you just call me a demon?”

The man raised his hand and Danny took to the air to dodge a blast of silver energy.

“What? Not even going to start in on your evil plan. What kind of villain doesn’t monologue?”

“The only evil villain here is you,” the ghost hissed as he shot blast after blast at the flying halfa. “We are here to cleanse this town of you and your demonic vassals.”

“First of all, they're not my vassals, I just don’t bother kicking them back to the Ghost Zone as long as they don’t cause trouble,” Danny said, creating a shield to absorb the blasts. “And second, what’s with all the dem-Wait, we?”

A blast hit him in the back and ANCIENTS! OW! THAT HURT! THAT VERY MUCH HURT!

He barely caught himself before he hit the ground and quickly summoned another shield, this time creating a sphere to wrap around him. He glanced back to take in his new opponent.

For half a second, he thought it was Dani. Then he realized the short, white-haired woman actually looked like she was in her mid-forties, had vivid yellow eyes, and was Asian.

He blamed the pain. The excruciating pain.

“Oh goody, two for one special, must be my lu-”

Something slammed into his shield from above just as the two’s blasts hit it and it shattered.

His back hit the pavement and he must have blacked out because the next thing he knows he’s being held aloft by an angel.

“Maybe next time you fall from heaven, get better aim,” he whimpered.

The black-haired, blue-eyed, winged ghost gave him an unimpressed look and opened her mouth, but was cut off by Goldilocks.

“Adelaida, humans.”

His captor glanced to the side and her raven-like wings turned invisible.

Danny turned to look as well and saw Sam and Tucker running up, looking nervous.

“Divya, take care of them.”

Oh hell no!

“Phantom!” Valerie snarled, flying in to hover over his friends.

Good, she’d protect them.

“Have you really moved on to attacking unarmed civilians?”

Or not.

“Unar-They’re ghosts!”

Valerie looked at her wrist. “My tracker says otherwise.”

“Your tracker doesn’t pick me up half the time!”

“You think they’re overshadowed?” Sam asked.

“They’re glowing!” Danny huffed, gesturing towards Adelaida.

“I don’t see it,” Tucker said.

“It’s alright,” the Asian woman — Divya supposedly — said, walking towards his friends.

To his surprise, all three humans started to relax.

“No.” The halfa scowled. “No. No, we are not having another mayor incident.” He raised his hand and fired.

Adelaida shrieked as he hit her wing and they flickered into visibility.

He kicked her away then fired at Goldilocks and Divya, revealing their pale gold and white wings respectively. “See, ghosts! Now get those two out of here.”

Valerie hesitated, then swooped down to grab Sam and Tucker.

“What? Hey!”

“Put me down!”

Danny turned to the ghosts to see them regrouping.

Adelaida looked furious as she stepped forward. “I am ending this.”

“Adelaida,” Goldilocks warned.

“The humans already know of us, Buhle. It is time to put the demon down.”

He nodded and stepped behind her, Divya following his lead.

Adelaida braced herself with her wings and feet and took a deep breath.

Danny only just had enough time to realize what was about to happen and throw up a shield before her ghostly wail hit. Hers looked much like his own, though neon blue instead of his own toxic green. It also didn’t seem as powerful as his considering he was still standing, even if cracks were quickly forming on his shield. He wasn’t sure if it was a power thing or just that she was holding back.

He hoped it was a power thing as he braced his feet. He let the shield fall just as his own wail rang out.

Green sonic waves clashed with blue, pressing back and forth against each other with the green slowly gaining ground. Then the blue faltered, a bit of shock lacing her voice, and the green waves steamrolled through.

Adelaida, Buhle, and Divya went flying and Danny cut off the wail. He fell to his hands and knees, using every bit of his willpower to hold onto his ghost form.

“Phantom!” Sam shouted.

“Well, that’s one way to remove ghost paint,” Tucker chuckled nervously.

Danny gave a panting laugh, spotting his once more white hair falling into his face.

He tried to look up at the ghosts, but he was exhausted and his back was hurting more than ever before as the adrenalin ran out. He was a sitting duck, just barely holding onto his ghost form.

Wonderful.

He felt something come near and Sam shouted, “Get away from him!”

A hand settled gently on his back and… Oh. Oh! Oh, that felt good. He looked up and was surprised to see Divya standing over him, her eyes glowing the same color as his own.

“So young,” she cooed.

“Impossible!” Adelaida gasped.

Danny turned to see Buhle supporting her, both staring at him with shock.

“None have been born in three hundred years,” the silver-eyed ghost said. “He does not even have his wings.”

“They’re growing in now,” Divya replied. “That is probably our fault. We invaded his territory.”

“He can not be,” Adelaida said, shaking her head. “He works with demons, allows them to harm humans.”

“I don’t let anyone hurt anyone,” Danny huffed. “The others are only allowed to stay if they behave themselves.”

“Demons are selfish creatures. They can not be trusted,” Divya said softly.

“Says you,” Danny huffed. “Johnny and Kitty are fine as long as they’re not fighting since only the tourists are stupid enough to flirt with one of them by this point. Ember likes playing open mic night, Youngblood just wants a playmate, the Casper High shades just like to get egg creams at the old-school diner, and Boxy is harmless usually. Seriously, you guys are ghosts, what’s with the delusional ghost hunter rhetoric?”

“Excuse me,” Valerie growled.

“It’s okay, I know you’ve got your reasons. I still love you,” he said cheekily, winking at her.

She and Sam pretended to gag.

“We are not demons.”

Danny turned to Buhle with a snort. “You glow and have wings.”

“Precisely,” he huffed, stretching out his wings.

“Humans don’t have wings.”

“We are not humans, but we are not demons.”

Divya rubbed the hand on his back up and down. “We are like you, hun.”

“I’m a ghost.” Half-ghost, but details.

Unless…

She shook her head. “Poor thing, so lost and confused.”

“Okay, time to go back to the fighting,” he groaned, but didn’t try to get up. Whatever she was doing to his back was worth the baby talk.

“We are not demons, ” Adelaida spat. “We are angels.”

Danny stared at her blankly. “And I’m an atheist.”

“We are the souls of those who have passed who remain tied to this world by selfless reasons,” Buhle said in a calm voice. “We are the equal and opposites of those who reside in the darker realm, who linger due to selfish desires. We work to protect life from such creatures and bring joy to the humans of this plane.”

“So… a good ghost.”

“There is no such thing as a good demon!” Adelaida snapped. “Are you always this frustrating?”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

“Constantly.”

“It’s a gift.”

She turned to Buhle. “He can not possibly be an angel.”

“I told you, I’m an atheist. Pretty sure Tu-my friend told me that’s a big no-no in heaven. Speaking of…” Danny turned to Sam. “S-Goth human, aren’t real angels supposed to be eldritch abominations? Six wings and seven heads or something? Constantly on fire? I swear someone once told me that.”

“That-that’s not entirely accurate,” Sam chuckled as Tucker laughed. “But you’ve got the right idea. They’re actually pretty terrifying. That’s why people tend to freak out when they see them in the stories. It’s awesome.”

“Cool.” He turned back to the two angel ghosts to see Adelaida pinching the bridge of her nose and Buhle looking very done. “So where’s the rest of your wings and heads.”

Divya laughed and patted his head. “You young ones are always so entertaining.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is based on an old story of mine. And by old, I mean really old. I don't think I was even on this site when I wrote it since I can’t find it on my blog. I started getting into some new Danny Phantom stuff and felt compelled to write something along the same lines. This is just a one-shot so I doubt I'll write more for this, but I've got a bunch of ideas for this world so I needed to get some of it out.

#danny phantom #valerie gray #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Summary: Toshinori struggles with your unfavorable opinion of his heroic alter-ego, but tries his hardest to impress you on a second date! Now… how do people date again?

4,537 words | SFW

“Wh-wh-what are you saying? You don’t like All Might?”

“I am just so tired of how everybody loves him! ‘I got the All Might special-edition action figure.’ ‘Well I got his autograph,’” you parrot in a mocking tone. “Whoop-de-friggen-doo. And he’s such an annoying showboat—like, I appreciate the crime he stops, but half the time he’s just striking a pose in front of news cameras shouting some dumb catchphrase. Go catch a bag guy and quit bragging about it! But you know what pisses me off most of all—all the swooning and fangirling. Why are so many women even into him?! All those beefy muscles are so ugly, he’s like an upside-down stack of potatoes! Who likes that?”

Toshinori is just staring, slack jawed, at you. Like you kicked his puppy.

“Sorry for going off like that, I shouldn’t tear apart something you obviously like.”

Is what you should have said.

Instead, you inhale, and, “Another thing! He’s not even edgy, or interesting—there’s no depth there, he’s just… all powerful and perfect? It’s so boring! All flash and no substance. If I was going to root for a hero, it’d be someone like Eraserhead. So dark and gruff, never putting himself in the spotlight, letting the work speak for itself.”

“I… I’ve gotta go.” He stands robotically and walks toward the door. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks.

“Wait!” you run after him and grab his arm. “I’m sorry. I was being mean. It’s just, All Might stuff is everywhere and it feels like I can’t escape it,” you laugh. “But if you’re a fan, that’s OK. I won’t make fun of him. I really am sorry.” He finally turns around to face you.

“I meant the phone call. I gotta go. Emergency.” He holds up the glowing screen.

“Oh.”

He smiles and pats you on the head. But he’s more subdued than he was a minute ago, and there’s a pain in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. He probably did take it really personally when you insulted his hero. Idiot.

“Do you really think All Might is ugly?” he asks quietly, gathering his things by the door. “There’s nothing appealing about him at all?”

“Like I said, you’re my type.”

He lets out a quiet, almost melancholy breath of a laugh. He turns to you, and wraps his long arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. It’s not a particularly passionate hug—his touch is so light, he’s barely making contact at all—but he’s tall enough to rest his chin on top of your head.

“You’re a strange one,” he whispers.

You close your eyes and breathe him in. He smells a lot like iron and convenience-store floor, actually, could be a lot more romantic. But you feel content so close to this scarecrow, with his soft bangs hanging down and brushing your skin. You almost let out a whine when he finally pulls away.

“So, will I see you again?” You ask, nervous about the answer. He couldn’t have been that serious about that All Might stuff, right? But if you chased him off, at this point, it might break your heart.

“Definitely.” A wide grin splits his whole face as he strikes a heroic pose. “My debating skills cannot be defeated! Next time, I’ll convince you All Might is the greatest hero!”

“Oh my god, get out of my house.”

****

Toshinori couldn’t believe it. Today of all days. First he wore himself out doing hero work in the morning. Then USJ was attacked and he pushed past his limit to rescue his students, nearly died, and once again reduced the amount of time he can remain in his muscle form. On top of all that, now, today of all days is when a couple of everyday bullies decide to hassle him.

He just had to go for a walk instead of getting a cab straight home. Had to stop to pick up medicine, even though it was already getting dark. Were such simple things really so hard for the number-one hero now?

He would laugh if it weren’t so pathetic.

It wasn’t like this had never happened before. Every once in awhile some delinquent singles him out, expecting a weak target, but even in his weak form, on a normal day, he would easily dodge and evade them, quickly diffusing the situation.

But today. Today he was done. He had already gone beyond what he had to give, and gone beyond that again, and he was out.

There were plenty of witnesses in the store, but nobody was going to stop to help, just pretending they couldn’t see. He was practically invisible in this form. Nobody cares what happens to some creepy, worn-down old man. It’s better this way, anyway. What kind of hero would he be if someone got hurt rescuing him?

This was really going to happen. He was really going to have his ass kicked by some random jerks. How had he fallen so low?

Then you appeared.

There was nothing he could do to stop you from putting yourself in danger: he could barely move. That kick caught him right in his weak spot, the old wound Nomu had already agitated earlier that day. A sickening, warm gurgling of fluids squished in his lungs, making each breath a battle against the encroaching darkness.

Run away. Just run away!

You obviously weren’t a hero, you didn’t have any training, that was clear in the way you carried yourself. But you were brave. Brave enough to piss those guys off. You just kept telling them off like you had no sense of self-preservation, until—he saw one of them about to throw a punch at you, and his nostrils flared in anger. He would have to—have to force himself to transform, no matter how it would hurt him, no matter how many people would see. He couldn’t let this happen—

Then you did something his pride would never have let him consider: you just started shrieking.

It worked. You saved yourself, and him, though it was even more humiliating than letting himself get beat up. There he was, suffocating on his own blood where anyone walking by could see what a helpless weakling he was… and now there was a girl bawling loudly on that same floor, drawing everyone’s attention to the intensely embarrassing scene.

Time to crawl into a hole and never show his face again?

He had to hand it to you though, you knew what you were doing. You forced all the silent spectators to admit they were paying attention—forced them to get involved. You had the heart of a hero, all right.

Everything after that seemed to happen so fast. Losing consciousness, learning that you had risked your well-being once again for him with your quirk. The shame he felt, seeing you suffering the same symptoms he was. Then suddenly, you were asking him out?

He was used to getting attention all the time in his muscle form, but in his true form, he was so invisible he could transform into All Might in public and nobody ever noticed. Like there was nobody standing there before All Might magically showed up.

His head swam dizzily when you said that he was your type. How could you be serious? But it seemed you were, even though he had been nothing but helpless. Even though you were coughing up blood because of him. What in the world were you seeing?

You were so boldly affectionate with him—though every time you did something unreserved, you started turning red and shaking, like you were acting with your heart before your head could talk you out of it. Even his hideous scar, and the frustrating health issues he doesn’t like to burden others with, you accepted without even a moment of disgust or fear. You reached out and touched it without thinking, and then blushed. It was so cute.

Being adored and praised as All Might was easy to brush off, but this? He had never had someone pressed against his body so affectionately as this drained husk. As the thing he was slowly becoming, permanently. There was at least one person who still saw him. He could get used to that feeling—that warmth in his chest.

Then his phone rang—that custom ringtone he recorded himself! For a moment, he thought you were putting it together: the blond hair, two long bangs, the eyes, the voice.

But no, instead he got an even bigger shock. You don’t like All Might?!

How can he go out with someone who doesn’t like All Might? He is All Might!

Obnoxious? Ugly?? SHE PREFERS AIZAWA?!?!

Nope. That’s it. That is more than he can take.

But then there you were, pulling at his arm with those puppy-dog eyes, apologizing. You didn’t mean anything against him. You just didn’t know. You couldn’t know. He can’t blame you for having an opinion about a public figure. Even he had to admit his public persona could be a little… much.

He checked the caller before dismissing it. It was Nezu, so it probably was important. Not exactly a lie. It’s a shame to leave early, but he didn’t want you to know how shaken he was.

To be honest, he’s been starting to resent All Might a little, himself. He used to be that brawny, handsome hero, but now… now it’s just a mask he puts on. A flashy act for the crowds, and they eat it up, while his real self is overlooked and treated like a punching bag. Of course he resents it, just a little.

It’s actually kind of tickling that you prefer him this way. Pretty soon, it’s all he’ll be.

But he is All Might, too! If you only knew him better, you would realize how awesome he is! After all, All Might is the same person you had a wonderful evening with, laughing and watching movies—the same person you wanted a second date with. Yes, he’s sure you would like all of him if you got to know him! He’ll win you over!

****

“Next time, I’ll convince you,” he said. Next time.

After 15 minutes, you get a text from Toshinori’s number. “Oh good, did he make it home safely?” you wonder.

It’s a short essay about All Might.

Ping!

Another text from Toshi. Also about All Might.

Ping!

Did you know crime rates fell by over 20 percent since All Might debuted?

Ping!

His confident demeanor isn’t just showboating, it’s about instilling confidence in—

Ping!

Look at this video of All Might rescuing puppies! PUPPIES!!

You shake your head and laugh, a warm smile on your face. Hero fanatics may be annoying, but Toshi is kind of adorable. It’s so wide-eyed and innocent how much he loves—

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Yeah, never mind, it’s annoying. You text back a single message:

lol.

You can practically hear his internal screaming from across town. You snicker. He was right, you are a little devious.

*********************************************

Toshinori was as busy as he said he’d be. After the flurry of texts, it was over a week before you heard from him again. You thought he might want to watch the U.A. Sports Festival together, since he was such a fan of hero stuff (and All Might would be involved this year—eye roll), but he said he had too much to do.

You wondered if that was true, or if he could hear your eyes rolling through the text message. Maybe your snarky response to his hero obsession had spoiled things, and he’d keep on making excuses until you took the hint.

But a day later, he called back (yes, called—who does that?) and apologized so vehemently, you knew he meant what he’d said all along. He was just busy. But he was going to have some free time over the next week, and wants to see you again!

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of pink, white, and periwinkle flowers in his hands, wearing an oversized blazer and tie. It’s like he’d watched an old Fred Astaire movie to figure out what people on dates are supposed to look like.

“Aww, Toshinori!” you clasp your hands under your chin. “What did I say about marriage? You’re not here to propose, are you?”

He looks down at himself, then at your casual attire. “I overdid it, huh?”

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“I’ve been told it’s a problem of mine,” he scratches the back of his head, giving a lopsided grin.

“No, it’s adorable!” You take the flowers, brushing your fingers against his, and bury your nose in the fragrant petals. You look up at him with a sultry, playful gaze. “Though… I might need to change into something more formal now, or it’ll look like I hired you.” A fountain of blood shoots from his mouth.

You drop the bouquet and throw your arm under his shoulder in case he falls, the other hand instinctively placing itself over his scar, the source of his affliction. He jumps back with surprising agility, as if evading an attack.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t use your quirk on me again. I’m much better today—the bleeding is always going to happen, so don’t push yourself.”

You hold your hands up in surrender. “OK. I wasn’t going to. Probably. I definitely won’t now. It’s really a regular issue?”

He nods. “I’m sorry if it bothers you.”

“No, no, I was just curious.” You take his hand and lead him inside. He explains his condition, while you find a vase for the flowers. He takes off his jacket and tie, folding them over the arm of the couch. With just a white button-up, he immediately comes down to a more casual level, better matching your outfit. He throws his arms wide to ask, “What do you think?”

You think he looks slender and gorgeous, and just disheveled enough that you want to comb your fingers through his hair, and just dapper enough that you want to undo one more button.

“Perfect!” You throw finger guns at him, “Just a couple of slobs out for a date!”

****

Unfortunately, he has a reservation at a fancy restaurant. Very fancy. One of those places where the floors are marble and everyone wears black. Now you feel way under-dressed, and wish he’d warned you that’s why he was dressed so nice. You don’t even want to look at the prices on the menu.

You had hoped this date would be more exciting, considering the first one started with a brawl. That was a real ice-breaker. Here, the atmosphere is so quiet and formal, you’re almost afraid to speak, and a tense silence builds between you. Toshinori doesn’t seem to be having a great time either.

“You’re barely eating anything,” you note him lethargically picking at his plate. “Do you not like the food?”

“No, I just can’t eat much at once, so…”

“But the portions here are really big! Why would you want to come here?”

“It… seemed like the kind of place you’re supposed to go for a date!”

“Are you kidding?” you shout, half standing up from your seat, too loudly for the restaurant, whose more dignified customers glare and scoff. You sit back down and cover your face with your hand. And you just start laughing. A quiet chuckle at first, but soon you can’t even contain it, your shoulders wracking, and your head tossed back.

“Wh-what’s so funny?” Toshi looks scared.

“I hate it here!” you spurt out, still laughing. “This is the worst! It’s way too stuffy, and you can’t even eat the food.”

“I hate this place too! I just thought women like this sort of thing.”

You sputter and howl, slapping the table. “What are we even doing here?”

“We’re getting the bill!” He calls the waiter over, who is happy to shoo you ruffians out of the fine establishment.

****

Out in the fresh air and sunlight, you feel like you can finally talk to each other. He apologizes for being too old-fashioned, and, frankly, having no idea what he’s doing. You link arms, and decide to go for a stroll around the city, stopping at a street vendor for pork buns, which Toshi can eat one at a time at his own pace.

However, out in the city, All Might’s unsettling grin was inescapable, watching from every billboard and gift shop. It’s not long before Toshi starts on his favorite subject: prying into why you are the one person on earth who doesn’t adore him. You would be just as happy to let it go, but since he insists, you wind up in a heated back-and-forth.

“…and he’s always like ‘Detroit smash!’ ‘Texas smash!’ but it’s just a bunch of punches.”

“Th-that’s not true at all! Detroit Smash is when he punches downward to create a shockwave, and Texas Smash is when he punches so hard it blows villains away, and—”

“Yeah, that’s just a bunch of punches.”

Choking noises escape his throat. His entire world has been destroyed. Good job.

He hangs his head with a defeated sigh. “So, you really hate All Might.”

You squeeze his arm. It hurts to see him so down, even though it’s silly that he cares so much. “It’s not that I hate him. At the end of the day, I’m glad he’s running around saving lives. The problem is hero culture in general. There’s so much focus on their ‘brand,’ on their market value. I guess I can’t even blame individual heroes for grandstanding, considering their income depends on their popularity, but honestly—they’re public servants, the same as the police. Did you know the police are still responsible for stopping more crimes than heroes, when you take into account all the non-quirk-related crimes they handle, and the detective work used to locate villains in the first place? But you don’t see their faces all over posters, and commercials, and t-shirts!” You point your finger in a random direction, and it lands on a perfume ad in a store window with Uwabami’s face. Amazing, not All Might this time.

“And your hero All Might is the worst one, with that dumb flashy smile, and big inspiring speeches, like he’s gotta make sure everyone knows he’s the greatest.”

Toshinori has been listening silently this whole time, deep in thought. From the solemn frown he was wearing, it seemed some of what you said hit home. But at that last part, he raises his piercing blue eyes to yours.

“You’re wrong… All Might’s smile isn’t about his own ego. He smiles so that people in trouble know everything will be OK. So they don’t feel scared. As long as the hero is still smiling, you know he’s going to win in the end. Being the symbol of peace isn’t about him, it’s about giving the world hope!”

Your heart flutters. It’s not so much the words he said—you’d heard the same line a million times—but the fire in his voice as he said it. Naive as they may be, you can’t help but admire his convictions.

He catches the smile in your eyes, and gives you the biggest, doofiest, triumphant grin. You try to think of something cynical to say to burst that bubble of optimism. You can think of a few: People shouldn’t be symbols, they should be people. That smile is so forced; it’s obvious he’s hiding pain, and you’d rather face the honest truth, no matter how hard, than have hope that’s a lie.

Eh. Maybe you’d tell him later. Right now, you just want him to keep smiling.

“I know!” He rubs his hands together. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you—this way.”

“You cannot take me to a hero museum for a date!” you grimace.

He laughs, grabbing your hand and leading you, “Don’t worry, it’ll be good!”

****

The sun is orange in the sky over the ocean, painting the clouds with striking purple and yellow streaks reflected in the waves below. A warm breeze blows your hair back, ruffling Toshinori’s long bangs, and swaying the spiky parts like a field of barley.

“Wow,” you breathe, leaning over the railing of the boardwalk. He leans next to you.

“Better than the restaurant, huh?” he nudges you with his elbow.

“You could’ve at least chosen one of those fancy restaurants where the dishes are tiny, instead of a place you couldn’t eat!”

“Yeah, I really bungled this date thing,” he laughs, hand on his forehead.

How soft would his hair would feel if you twined your fingers through it right now, you wonder? The urge to grab him, and smash your lips against his coils inside you like a spring. But… you’re not sure if he would want that. He’s just so cute!

He offers his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, tipping his head at you. You take it, and stroll together down the steps into the sand and along the beach, the sounds of crashing waves and sea birds like music around you.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago.

“You know, this whole beach used to be covered with trash until about three months ago. This was never publicized, but it was cleaned up by an aspiring hero who was inspired by All Might. Not everything heroes do is for fame and glory. Sometimes it’s just about helping the community.”

“Then how did you find out about it?”

He blanches. “Huh?”

“If it was never publicized, then how do you know who did it?”

A bright red river ejects from his lips, and he doubles over, hacking. That’s one way to change the subject. You rub his back as he recovers, but instead of helping him relax, he grows rigid and more on-edge.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. You have no idea how much it hurts to see you in pain because of me. Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I…” You almost swear you weren’t going to. That you won’t, ever again. But… “No. I wish I could tell you that, so you can relax around me and not worry, but I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep. If you passed out again, or if you were suffering in unbearable agony, if… if you were dying… I would use my power, with or without your permission. There’s no way I could let you die, not if I can do something about it.”

“Young lady…” he purrs, stepping in closer, “I like your spirit, but… I don’t want you sacrificing yourself for me. I don’t want anybody else putting themselves through hell trying to be a hero for me.”

There’s a tug on your heart, and before you can stop yourself, you’re up on your toes, hands around his neck, your lips on his. He breathes in, frozen for an agonizing moment. You pull away, bright red, stammering apologies. Then his palm is cupping your jawline, thumb tracing tender circles over your hot cheek. He lowers his forehead, knocking it gently against yours, the side of your nose rubbing against his. His breath, so close, catching. Your eyes close. He angles his head, and kisses you back.

Eventually, you pull away, breathless. Your hands grip his narrow shoulders. “Listen. I appreciate you not wanting me to hurt myself for you. But you can trust me. If I decide to take some of your pain away, it’s because I decided to—get it?”

His face says he doesn’t. You pick up a seashell and toss it into the waves.

“Let me explain. The person this quirk is most dangerous to is its user. The hardest lesson to learn about it is how to say no.

“I was young when All Might debuted, and I loved him back then. His whole noble hero thing—always putting others first, always answering a cry for help, no matter how much danger he was in—I admired it. I wanted to be like that. And when other kids learned that my quirk could take away their scraped knees and bruised elbows, I was in high demand. I don’t think they meant to be selfish—they probably thought I was more resilient to pain as part of my quirk, but I just wanted to smile through it like that dumb bastard on TV. So I just kept taking, and smiling, until I was hooked up to machinery in a hospital bed for two weeks, barely hanging on.”

He grabs onto your hand and squeezes, almost so hard that it hurts. A pained look etches his face. “I’m sorry, I never meant for…”

“Calm down, it’s not like it’s your fault,” you laugh.

He flinches.

“I don’t blame All Might, either. It was my own stupid mistake. That’s how I learned you don’t emulate heroes! Noble sacrifice isn’t. That. Noble.” You poke his chest with your index finger to punctuate each word. “When you have something to offer the world, it’s important to know your limits, and to set boundaries. Because once people learn you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, they’ll take, and take until there’s nothing left.”

Toshinori touches his scar reflexively, fingers spreading protectively, pensively over the destroyed flesh. Then his hand clenches into a fist. “I understand… but still… if someone’s life is at risk, I can’t sit around and do nothing. Someone has to stand up and help, even if it’s dangerous. Someone has to be a hero, so everyone else can live happy lives!”

A smile spreads slowly across your lips. Partly a smile of admiration, from the vestiges of your youthful heart that still loves heroes… and partly the sly smile of a villain just before they dive into a victorious monologue.

“You’re right. That’s why I can’t do nothing if I see you in real trouble. If I decide to use my quirk to ease your pain, it’s not because you asked me to, or because I feel obligated. It’s because I want to. It’s because I weighed the risks, and decided. It hurts me to see you in pain, too, you know.”

His lower lip trembles. Before you know what’s happening, his hand is circling your waist, pulling your hips against his narrow ones, his mouth on yours. His lips are thin and chapped, but warm, making up for their lack of substance by softly giving way as you press against them, parting against yours. You let out a muffled moan. Your hands run over his back, exploring every jagged vertebrae and defined shoulder muscle hidden under his baggy dress shirt, finally coming to rest at the base of his neck, stroking the edge of that soft yellow hair you had longed to feel.

“Are you… using your quirk?” he pants.

“No.”

“Ah. Then this just feels really good.” He holds you tighter.

#Toshinori Yagi #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #bnha #all might #angst and fluff #toshi and reader are both huge dorks #my writing

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fyregrayfong · 4 years

Text

Under Pressure 1|15

FryeArcana

Summary:

Six months after the Equalists Revolution, tensions start to rise in the South Pole with the water tribes. Friendships and relationships are put to the test when trust is questioned. How will you and Lin find some ground as you try to set some foundation to your new sort of relationship. Can you handle Lin or will you hesitate and lose patience.

This goes along season two of TLOK it contains scenes and dialog from the animated series.

Chapter 1

Six Months Later

You and Mako are chasing a robbery chase, thanks to Asami she gifted some cycles to the police force. I on the other hand, kept mine and just upgraded it to the latest model with detachable sirens. Both of you are gaining on the large truck when the culprits start water bending at us and one freezes the street.

“Mako watch out for the ice!” You yell out, you drive over towards the sidewalks while Mako keeps driving head into the ice. He starts to skid and quickly fire bends, melting the ice and gains control of his bike. Another trucker pulls into the street and comes out, you take the ramp and jump out the way. Mako follows and uses his fire to give him a boost, does a flip and sends a ball of fire towards the truck causing it to flip on its side. You and Mako make an abrupt stop and unmount your bikes looking at the guys knocked out. “Looks like you have some car trouble…good thing the police are here” Mako smugly says as he takes his helmet off. You take your helmet off and groan at his comment, putting your head down smacking your face. Mako looks over at you and shrugs “what?” You roll your eyes and annoyingly walk over towards the perps “nothing, let’s just call a squad car and get these guys to bookings.” You climb into the truck and check out the stuff they robbed, “pretty nice stuff, I can see why they were in such a hurry.” You quickly jump back out the truck as a squad car comes pulling up and two officers come to arrest the perps. You walk over to your bike and put your helmet back on “alright well, see you back at the station,” before Mako can even get a word in you speed off in the direction to headquarters and you look in your rearview mirror and see Mako grudgingly getting back on his bike. You scoff muttering nonsense under your breath as you ride down the streets of Republic City.

You park your bike and head up to the desks and head towards your desk and start getting ready writing the report on the recent arrest. Lin walks out her office and notices you “See you’re back y/n, where’s Mako?” she looked around nothing seeing Mako around. “You did come back with him right?? She eyes you raising her eyebrows. You roll your eyes and cross your arm, “he wasn’t far behind, last I checked” you muttered. Lin groans as she pinches the bridge of her nose, “Mako is under your watch as your shadow, y/n. When I reinstated as Chief of Police I promoted y/n as Lieutenant and you as officer because of your work on Amon and the triads.” You sighed and push your chair back then look up at Lin “I get that, chief, but it’s taking some getting used to. Plus, doesn’t help when he’s annoying” you mutter as you bring your arms up on the desk and rub the sides of your temple. Before Lin can add anymore Mako comes in a huff as he runs up the stairs then stops when he sees Lin, “Chief!” he gave her a salute. Lin rolled her eyes “Where were you? Taking the scenic route back to the station?” she glared at him. “uh, no chief…I…” he looked over at me and I gave him a shrug nonchalantly. You found it entertaining to see Mako sweat but then Lin gives you a look and you sigh before standing up “he was just making sure the criminals were secured in the squad car and escorting them back to the station, isn’t that right Mako” you look at him raising your eyebrow to him. Mako gains his composure and relaxes a little from the save “right, I did that, y/n went ahead to get a jump on the report.” He stood at attention. Lin just glanced at the both of you before she turned away and went back to her office, you catch her just simply shaking her head before she closed her door. You look over at Mako, “took you long enough, I thought you would’ve wet your pants” you stifle a laugh. Mako gets red in his face “hey, you didn’t have to leave me behind. If it wasn’t for me we would still be chasing those guys” he is getting angry. You huff and cross your arms again “oh please, you mean that little showboating stunt you did? Sure let’s praise Little Mako on that” you annoyingly mutter as you give him a fake round of applause. You and Mako bicker at each other but stop right when you hear the click of a door opening from Lin’s office both of your eyes dart to that direction, “If you bickering dumb-nuts don’t have that report on my desk in the next half hour, you don’t even want me to finish that sentence.” Lin barked out from her desk before she metal bended her door slammed shut. You looked at Mako and gave him a shove before you head back to your desk and quickly finish the report then gave it to Mako to read it over and sign it. Mako still afraid of Lin makes you go walk over to drop off the report and you roll your eyes and grab the papers from his hands and walk over. You knock on the door and wait for Lin to let you in and you open the door and walk inside, closing the door behind you. Lin looks at you and sighs as she puts down her glasses, “is that the report?” she eyes the papers in your hand. You nod “yup, even Mako had to put his hand into the report so it’s good.” You handed it to her, and Lin set it aside. She pushes herself back from her desk and turned her attention to you. “is this going to be a constant problem between the both of you? She gave you a knowing look. You lean against her desk and sigh before you open your mouth to speak you stop and ask, “Wait am I talking to Chief Beifong or Lin?” she blinks blankly at you then responds “Chief Beifong, since we’re at work…” you sit up straight and shrug “then, no, there won’t be any problems. take time to get used to Mako as a colleague, is all.” You start to walk towards the door and put your hand on the door handle, Lin speaks again “You can talk to Lin, after work though?” you smile softly before you erase it from your lips and walk out the office.

After work you and Mako walk out the station together, he is the first to speak up breaking the silence, “can we please sort whatever issues or problems we have with each other. I hate getting in trouble with the Chief” He rubs the back of his neck feeling embarrassed. “really? I quite find it funny and entertaining watching you get your ass chewed out by Chief Beifong.” You smile looking down at the sidewalk as you guys walk. Mako stops and looks at you, getting annoyed “come on, what’s your problem, y/n. I’m trying to be a good partner.” You sigh annoyingly “You’re not my partner, Mako. You’re just shadowing me…wow, Men are really stupid, huh? Look….” You rub your face as you try to gather your thoughts before you guide Mako to keep walking beside you as you start to speak “you are great cop and I think you got the skills to become Detective, after I got promoted to Lieutenant Li—Chief told me she wanted to take you on as Detective depending on your work in the force. I’ll admit I was jealous because I’ve been at the force for about a couple months to a year and here is some rookie off the streets and he gets the prospect of the position right off the bat, but I admit the way you worked during the whole Amon situation and then your work with the Triads. It was a no brainer that your talents and skills would be better suited on the force as than to let the triads have you.” You look over at him as you both take a seat at a bench at a nearby park. “okay, so if you agreed with the Chief on hiring me then why have you been so cold. I thought we worked well together when fighting Amon.” You nodded agreeing with him “yes, we did work well together, and I think we still work well together as fighting partners now. It’s just… personal reasons to why I don’t like you, which is bad since I always try not to bring personal matters into my work.” You sigh deeply. Mako listening at your works and trying to understand “ok, so what personal stuff you have against me?” you look at him like you really want to give him a slap. “ugh Mako, you’re just so…. annoying! I know everything is fine between you and Asami and you and Korra are good, but I can’t help but say that the way you handled that whole thing was complete trash. You literally closed the door on Asami walked two steps across and opened the door for Korra. You gave yourself no buffer, no time for a breakup. You literally jumped from one relationship to another relationship before the breakup could even be processed.” Mako tries to say something but you keep talking “…and don’t get me started on how you are at work, you act like you’re Mr. Hotshot. Trying to look cool and coming up with these horrible catch phrases for whenever we arrest criminals. Like it’s sort of embarrassing on my part to see my shadow do that. It’s probably just from the excitement of a new job and catching criminals and feeling important in the city that has you acting like this. But yeah that’s my problem” you inhale deeply and exhale you feel surprisingly light and like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. “heh, you were right, I didn’t think talking with you would work, but sorting out our problems was good” you look at Mako and smile feeling loads better. Mako just looks at you surprised with her jaw dropped on the floor. “uhhh Mako, you wanted to tell me something?” you squint your eyes at him, he has yet to respond you give him a light tap on his cheek. That seemed wake him up “huh, what? No I’m good. Nice talk. Glad we sorted that all out.” He stretched his arms out then stood up. You followed standing up, “alright, so friends? For real this time” you extend your hand over to Mako. He looks at you then down at your hand and takes your hand “yeah, friends.” You both give each other a smile then you pat his back “maybe when you become Lieutenant, we’ll be partners” you wave each other off as you walk in opposite directions.

You look around as you push your cycle into the nearby alley and grab a tarp covering it. You bend your cables and pull yourself up onto the terrace and softly knock on the door. The door clicks open and you step inside closing it behind you then walk throughout the apartment. You look up at the clock, midnight and walk into the kitchen and see Lin drinking some tea. You take your jacket off and set it on the coat hanger, “hey…” you walk over to the kitchen and sit beside her. “you seem in better spirits” Lin mutters while she reads her book. You smile softly “yeah well I spoke to Mako about our work relationship and worked things out. So there shouldn’t be any more problems at the station.” You sigh as you pour yourself a bit of tea, “well that’s good. You both were bickering like children.” Lin flips a page from her book as she continues reading but active listening to you. You don’t really mind it and you sit back down as you inhale deeply “I know…it was embarrassing. I bet that wasn’t my most attractive moments” you groan while you rubbed your face, “the important thing is that now you don’t have to listen to any more of my vents on the problem.” You smile and motion your hands as if you’re washing away all the negative vibes away from your body. “hmm oh no…I’ll miss those talks” she deadpans you eye her and mocking tone “you got anything stronger than tea?” Lin raises an eyebrow then stands and sets down a glass with a large piece of ice in front of you and pours you some whiskey. “thanks” you mutter and take a small swig. Lin pours herself a glass before you start a conversation “Mako mentioned that he and Bolin are going to join Korra for the Glacier Spirits Festival in the Southern Water Tribe. Maybe we should go, you know like a little trip…” you mutter softly and listen intently to hear if Lin would respond, “I don’t know, I have so much to do in Republic City. I can’t drop everything for some festival.” You nod softly, “I understand, but I do have to go anyways to the Southern Water Tribe with Asami, she was able to get a sit down with Varrick. I figured I’ll go and help out on that business meeting.” Lin looks at you with a bit of conflict “you have to go?” you smile and give her a nod “yeah, ever since the whole ordeal with Hiroshi Sato, Asami has taken over the company. I offered to help out as much I can, designing her new projects and any ideas to bring Future Industries back on the market. but, more and more businesses are pulling out of their partnerships. I don’t know how much more Future can withstand before Asami has to call for bankruptcy.” You sigh deeply as look down but then look back at Lin’s eyes “I sent the report to one of the lead financial advisors, they’re going to talk to Asami tomorrow after her test run on the planes.” Lin looks at you in thought but softly nods, understanding your reasons, “Are you traveling with Korra and Mako?” you shake your head “No, I’m going to ride with Asami, we’re only going for the weekend.” You smile as you reach over and place your hand on top of hers “you know if you’re going to miss me you can just join me.” you smirk as you slowly lean in closer to her. Lin gives you a small smile “you already know why I can’t.” you chuckle a bit “I know but it wouldn’t hurt to try.” You remove your hand from Lin as you finish your second glass of whiskey and start to get up and grab your jacket, “I should start heading out.” You state as you slide your jacket on, you don’t notice the face of conflict appear on Lin. You pop your collar and look over at Lin giving her a small smile, while looking at her you remember what has happened between the two of you.

Ever since you shared your first kiss; things haven’t been the same, but it hasn’t progressed either. Mostly, because of Lin’s refraining, you began to think it was her maybe confused with her emotions or believed her when she mentioned she wasn’t thinking straight during her vulnerable time. So, you never pushed further even after your little test in the kitchen. You know Lin has some sort of deeper feelings for you, but you’re not going to pressure her into something she doesn’t want, but you’re also not going to give up on her. If anything the both of you have become better friends, you hang out at her place mostly every night after work, share a drink or talk. There have been nights where you’ll spend the night on her bed, sometimes because you’re too drunk to get home. After a couple weeks you started to get suspicious that maybe Lin would get you inebriated so you’ll have to spend the night. You always tried to sleep on the couch, but she’ll keep telling you basically give you an order as chief to sleep on the bed. Saying along the lines to “always be well rested for work. I won’t stand you being tired on the job”. You’ll both end up waking up in each other’s arms or spooning one another. Maybe she likes having a warm body to sleep next to or maybe it has something to do with those nightmares she keeps having?

So tonight you try not to drink more than the two glasses of whiskey. You clear your throat as you walk over and place your glass in the sink then turn to head “I’ll catch you at the station” as you walk toward the door. “uh-you can stay the night, since you’ve been drinking…” Lin muttered as she got up from the table scooting the chair back under the table. You laugh a bit “come on Lin, I’ve only had two glasses. You and I both know it takes more than that to get an effect on me” you slide your hands into your pockets sliding your right hand out to take your keys out. You turn around to grab the door and start turning the knob “y/n….” her voice soft causing your hand stops turning the knob, it’s just resting there your body standing still. “yes, Lin?” you responded back. “stay…please” You’re eyes widen at her request; she’s never asked you to stay it’s always been these little situations with alcohol or sleep deprivation. You’re perfectly fine to make it home so now Lin had no reason but to ask for you to stay. Should you press her to why the sudden question or just give in. There is no denying the emotions between the two of you and you’ve exchanged a few kisses and make outs since that time at the south pole. But it’s been only that just kisses, nothing more, and you’re not sure if anything more will happen. You care for Lin, deeply. You grip on the knob before you let go and turn around to look at her, “how come?” you look at the floor before looking up and look at her jaded eyes. Your eyes open more as you see the slight fear appearing in her eyes, but she is quick to hide it again, “you’ve been drinking and it’s getting late” you smirk and chuckle at her lame excuse “ok, but only if you give me a ride to Sato airstrip” Lin seemed relieved and nodded.

So I stayed.

#linbeifong #lin x reader #lin beifong #TLOK2UnderPressure #fyrefics #linxreader #linbeifongxreader #linbeifong x reader

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Eight)

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

**************

Wade laughed for at least ten minutes over Peter’s expression when the Omega wondered aloud where they were going to store all the new supplies, and Wade simply opened the door to the lean to and motioned to all the space inside.

“You don’t have to laugh at me.” Peter said frostily, and the obnoxious Alpha only laughed harder. “How was I supposed to know you had a storage room?”

“Pete, you’ve spent weeks in the cabin now.” Wade stacked two fifty pound bags of rice against the far wall of the lean to, and followed with several bags of beans as well. “I can excuse you not knowing about the root cellar but how did you not know this was a door over here? You never once saw me go into the cellar for coffee, where did you think I kept it all?”

“I don’t care where my coffee comes from so long as it’s hot in the morning.” Peter sniffed and his sassiness set Wade off all over again. “In my defense! In my defense! I didn’t know old timey cabins came with extra rooms!”

“Old timey cabins?” Flour and sugar, coffee and cornmeal, salt and dried fruit all went into the lean to, and Wade dusted off his hands one he was finished, leveling his Omega with a look. “What are you trying to say, Pete?”

“That all the good historical romances have one bed, in a one room cabin and never once in between the sex does it talk about lean tos or root cellars!” Peter retorted, and Wade shot right back--

“Hey, if you learn all your history through sexy books, that's your fault.” And then with a more than curious expression, “How much time do you spend reading sexy books, Pete?”

“Nope.” Peter wagged his finger at the Alpha. “Nope, you don’t get to ask that after you cackled at me for not knowing you have an extra big pantry. No way. I’m going to go get the blankets out of the wagon. You’ll need them for when you sleep on the floor again tonight.”

“Hey.” Wade snagged Peter around the waist and dragged the Omega back up to his body, covering Peter’s half hearted protest with a long kiss. “I’m not sleeping without you tonight. If I gotta sleep on the floor, stack those blankets high cos you’ll need to be comfortable too.”

“You’re not sleeping without me?” Peter echoed, lingering close enough for their lips to brush as he spoke. “Well I don’t want to sleep on the floor, so how’s that going to work?”

“You’ll have to get over being a brat and let me sleep in the bed.” Wade decided and damn it Peter didn’t want to giggle but his Alpha was absolutely ridiculous.

“Now why would I let you sleep in bed with me when you’re calling me a brat?”

“M’serious Pete.” Wade was suddenly done laughing, his palm warm at the back of Peter’s neck as he ran circles over his mate’s bonding spot. “I’m done sleeping without you, alright? Enough for me is getting to hold you every night and kiss you good morning. I need to know you’re safe in my arms, need to see that smile right when the sun comes up. That’s enough for me, is it enough for you?”

All of Peter’s breath left his body in a whoosh, the Omega stunned by the show of vulnerability from Wade. Of course they were honest with each other, and their stay at the hotel had led to some amazing revelations, but all that seemed to pale in light of the conviction in Wade’s eyes, the way there wasn’t a hint of playful anywhere in his Alpha’s expression.

“It’s… it’s enough for me.” he squeaked, then wet his lips and tried again, “It’s enough for me, Wade. You’re enough for me. I can’t wait to fall asleep next to you tonight and tomorrow and all the other nights too.”

“Good.” Wade’s eyes ringed in red for a few seconds before he flashed his fangs in a teasing smile. “Now why don’t you go get a few more things from the wagon so we can stock this super secret pantry with enough supplies to get us through the winter.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Peter said obediently, and then scrunched his nose. “See? I’m not always a brat.”

“Always be a brat, Pete.” Wade leaned in and nuzzled at the base of Peter’s throat, rumbling in pleasure when the Omega automatically tipped his head back, offering up more. “Don’t ever change. Everything about you is absolutely perfect, my Omega.”

“Alpha my Alpha.” the words were soft, shy, nearly inaudible though a glow of adoration in Peter’s scent. “You’re perfect too.”

****************

“I think I’ll name the new chickens after my friends.” Peter decided one day as he gathered eggs. “This one has got hair just like Johnny, this one is as red as MJ and this one--ow!” he scowled at one particularly mean chicken. “--is obviously a Gwen. This new one is pretentious as hell so I’m going to call him Harry.”

“Oh yeah?” Wade patted the goat on the rump and shooed her out of the way. “Wanna hear my names for them?”

“You’ve named them?” Peter turned to his Alpha in surprise. “You haven’t even named the goat! I didn’t think you’d name the chickies!”

“Sure I did.” Wade nuzzled a kiss onto Peter’s temple as he passed. “That one is Soup, that one is Dumpling, that one is Fried and this beauty right here is named Baked.”

“Soup, Dumpling, Fried and Baked?” A less than impressed glare from the Omega. “Seriously?”

“I bought these chickens so you’d have something to eat all winter, Pete.” Wade started up the ladder to the loft. “Not so you’d have pets. Name the ones we keep for eggs, don’t name the ones we’re going to eat for dinner.”

“Fine.” Peter shooed Gwen--er-- Fried out of the way and set his basket of eggs up on a shelf so he could help with the horses. “Harry would be pissed off if he knew I named a pretentious chicken after him anyway.”

“You don’t talk about your friends.” Wade dropped clean hay down into Arthur’s stall. “Not ever. Which one is Harry?”

“...you want to hear about my friends?” Peter kicked at the hay to spread it around the horse’s feet. “Really?”

“Sure.” the Alpha shrugged a little. “You’ve met my friends, only seems fair I should know about yours.”

“I’ve met a few super scary mutants and a crazy shop keep.” Peter patted at Arthur’s side to push the gelding out of the way so he could get to the back corner of the stall. “I feel like that’s not the same thing as me boring you with stories of--” people I’ll never see again. “--my friends.”

“Well tell me anyway.” Wade moved onto Bea’s stall, clicking his tongue at the pretty mare until she nickered up at him. “Why is Harry pretentious?”

“You really want to know?” Peter asked uncertainly and his Alpha prompted, “I wanna know everything about you, Pete. We’re not gonna do much more today than chores and sit inside since the weathers so crappy. Now’s as good a time as any to talk, right?”

“Okay then.” Peter snuck Arthur a piece of carrot then ambled over to Bea. “Well, it’s not Harry’s fault he’s pretentious, his father is completely unbearable. Rich people in general are jerks, but Norman Osborn is the worst I’ve ever met. Harry’s a sweet guy but when you’re raised that way, there’s no escaping it, you know?”

“I can’t say I’ve known many rich people.” the Alpha hedged. “But keep talking.”

“I’ve known Harry since I was six. He showed up to the first day of school in a suit and tie.” Peter grinned over the memory. “We had Sloppy Joe’s for lunch and Harry bitched about not having real silverware to eat his sandwich with.”

“Who eats a sandwich with silverware?”

“Harry Osborn does.” A long suffering sigh. “Honestly, he still eats hamburgers with a knife and fork. I’ve never seen him pick up anything and just take a bite.”

“He sounds terrible.”

“Nah.” Peter's scent turned wistful. “Nah, he’s wonderful. I miss him.”

Good natured stories about Harry being pretentious turned into recollections of how Mary Jane had come into their lives, how she’d moved next to Peter’s Auntie May and they’d spent the summers exploring the canal behind the houses and sharing books over the back yard fence. They’d presented as Omegas the same year, cried through their first heat together because it just didn’t seem right for teenagers who’d never so much as kissed anyone to be going through a full blown heat, and spent way too much time skipping school to go shopping.

Gwen had come along in junior high year of high school and Peter laughed through most of the stories about the mouthy blond, how Gwen had reacted with actual cheers when she’d presented as Alpha, how Peter had refused to kiss her until she’d gotten her little fangs removed and how MJ was absolutely horny for Gwen but never said anything.

“Absolutely horny.” Wade stated, setting a pile of logs down by the fire. “Are you serious with that?”

“Absolutely horny.” Peter grabbed the hatchet and set to work chopping kindling. “MJ likes to think she’s a demure little Omega but we all know different. Harry and Johnny aren’t interesting at all, but if Gwen ever did anything but flirt, Mary Jane would be ready to bond in a moment.”

As they made dinner together, Peter chatted about Johnny and how the Alpha was convinced he was the best at everything ever. He was full of stories of showboating during athletic events, entering contests just for the sake of winning, terrible pick up lines and hilarious failed attempts at flirting and the ongoing unspoken competition between he and Harry to get the best looking Omega around.

There were memories of all night study sessions and celebratory partying the day after exams, of crowding five in a cab just to save a little money, the one summer after freshman year of college when they’d all lived with Auntie May cos the dorms were closed for break and no one could afford an apartment yet. Countless movie marathons, the never ending misadventures of Gwen and her inability to keep track of her phone, the times they’d pranked Harry’s butler and that one day Johnny dyed his hair green to win a bet and then had to shave his head.

And that night in bed, Wade propped up on his elbow and looked down at his Omega, tracing idle patterns on Peter’s stomach as he asked, “You miss them, don’t you?”

“They’re my best friends.” Peter answered softly. “I’ve known MJ and Harry for almost twenty years now, Gwen and Johnny for over ten. Of course I miss them.”

Wade waited a moment, and when his Omega didn’t finish, he prompted, “But?”

“...but…” Peter pursed his lips and blew out a deep breath. “I don’t think I miss them so much as I worry about them right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been gone six weeks.” the Omega turned into Wade’s arms and snuggled into his chest. “Six weeks, Alpha. They must be out of their mind with worry not knowing where I went or what happened or if-- you know, if my body is going to show up at some point? Six weeks is a long time to wonder where someone went. Gwen’s Dad is the police chief and I’m sure she’s had him put out bulletins for me and Harry most likely used all his influence to try and figure out what happened. They’ll find my car in the woods and probably something I dropped and they’ll all think--”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what they’ll think, but I know they are worried.”

Wade tucked a strand of hair behind Peter’s ear, tugged lightly on the longish ends that were just beginning to curl and crooned comfortingly when the Omega’s lavender scent dipped low with sadness.

“They don’t know how happy I am.” Peter inched closer and pushed his forehead over Wade’s heart, fluttering his lashes gently over the scarred skin and sighing. “They don’t know I’ve found you, that I’m safe and secure with my Alpha and that even though I’m so so far away from everything I was used to, this is the most content I’ve ever been. It makes me sad that I’m having the best time of my life, and they are probably planning a funeral.”

Wade cuddled his mate tight and wound their legs together. “I don’t know if this matters, Pete. But from what I gather from Bruce and a few short conversations with Cable, when you’re jumping through time things are… things are different. Cable told me once that time isn’t a line, it's a place and that time can move different outside the places or-- or you know, something like that.”

“...alright.” Peter frowned. “I’ve heard that idea before when people theorize about time travel, that it’s not like walking backwards in a straight line it’s about moving from one spot to another. So what?”

“So I’m saying maybe--” the Alpha paused, trying to find his words. “--maybe you’ve been here for six weeks but no time has passed there. Or maybe only a little time. I’ve heard Cable make comments about being gone for months when we just saw him a few days ago. Or one time he was gone for almost a year but when he came back he seemed surprised that so much time had passed.”

“You’re saying that it’s been a month and a half for me and you, but maybe I haven’t even been gone long enough in my time for them to worry?”

“I’m saying it could be possible.” Wade closed his eyes when he felt the lightest brush of a kiss on his heart. “And I know we don’t like to talk about Cable coming back but we know it’s inevitable, right? Don’t you think Cable would return you right to the moment you left?”

“I could wake up in the woods close to my car and go check into my hotel like nothing had happened.” Peter finished. “You think?”

“The guy’s an asshole but he’s not cruel. If Cable can make your return back there easy, he will. He’ll make it easy on everyone.”

“Everyone except you.” Peter murmured. “Cos you’d be here without me.”

“Well I’m here with you right now.” Wade rolled Peter in the bed until the Omega was straddled on top of his waist, Peter’s nose tucked into his neck. “And that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right. That’s all that matters.”

For now.

“Thanks for letting me talk about them.” Peter whispered sometime later. “All day, I mean. It can’t be fun to listen to me rattle on about people you don’t know. I must have listed about a hundred things you don’t understand-- smart phones and Netflix and stuff about college... sorry.”

“Shhh, Omega.” Wade was half asleep by now, his voice little more than a rumble. “You can talk all you want ‘bout whatever you want so long as you’re smiling over it. I like to see you smile.”

Peter pressed as close as he could get to his mate, humming quietly when Wade hugged him tight. “I like to see you smile too, Alpha.”

***************

Late fall turned to winter with a rush of sudden, chilling wind that poured over the mountaintops and whipped around the corners of the cabin, howled around the chimney and rattling windows before bending the trees on it’s way to whirl through the rooftops of Haven.

The sunlight had been steadily disappearing for weeks now, but one day it seemed as if the sun didn’t rise till mid morning and then had gone again well before supper and the increasing darkness was nearly depressing.

Or rather, it would have been depressing had Peter and Wade not been so perfectly content to simply exist with each other in the sanctity of their own space.

Their mornings were slow, both Alpha and Omega loathe to leave the warmth of new blankets and each other’s arms to face the biting cold that had settled around their land. Coffee was sipped in front of the fire with Peter snuggled into Wade’s lap, kisses shared as they washed up for the day and buttoned heavy jackets to go out for chores.

Wade worked on minor repairs throughout the afternoon, reinforcing the roof and doors on the warmer days, tightening up pieces inside when the wind was too cold to work in. There were new blankets on the bed, so Wade and Peter doubled up the old ones to hang over the windows and further insulate the house. Cracks between the log walls were filled, the stove and oven and chimney deep cleaned to avoid any future smoky issues and the root cellar packed near to bursting with all the meat from outside so they wouldn’t run out of food during a storm.

The evenings found them huddled around the fire for dinner and sharing a chair as Peter wrote in one of the new journals Wade had bought for him at Mr Lee’s-- an unexpected present left on Peter’s pillow that had rendered the Omega speechless for several minutes and had ended in a kiss wet with tears-- or reading out loud from one of the few books Wade kept on his shelf.

And every night Peter crawled into bed and into his Alpha’s arms, content to sleep away the cold and wind with his mate’s heartbeat steady beneath his ear while Wade fought against sleep so he could stay awake and watch his Omega dream.

A good life, even with the difficulties winter brought to their routine.

It was hard to chop kindling when hands and fingers were nearly numb, harder still to climb out of bed and into a near freezing cabin because they both slept so soundly these days not even Wade woke up to stoke the fire past midnight. It was simply too cold to open the barn doors first thing in the morning, so chores were pushed back an hour or two so the animals had an extra hour or two before letting the frigid temperatures into where they slept.

Bea and Arthur seemed to appreciate the gesture, but the goat took her irritation about waiting to be milked out on Peter via way of absurdly loud bleating, hoof stamping and heaving of her little body weight around to try and knock the Omega over.

She was obstinate and obnoxious and some days Peter wondered if goats made good eating, but still he persisted with his chores, mixed a salve to keep the goats udder from chafing in the dry air, talked and crooned and even outright purred to her so she wouldn’t jump quite so much when he tried to tether her to the milking post. Much to Wade’s poorly-hidden amusement, the goat wanted absolutely nothing to with Peter or his efforts and much to Peter’s very obvious chagrin, every single day was a pain in the ass.

“I don’t know why she doesn’t like me!” he finally huffed one cold morning, thumping the only half full bucket of milk down on the kitchen table and blowing on his freezing fingers. “I have tried everything short of hog tying her down! I am so nice to that beast and she still tried to bite me!”

“Well how would you feel if someone tied you up every morning, yanked on your nethers until you were dry and then patted you on the butt and called you a good boy?” Wade scooped eggs out of the pan and dropped them onto a plate, handing it over to the Omega. “And to add insult to injury, you gotta do all that after having the doors flung open and your bits frozen by the winter wind? C’mon Pete. You’d try to bite someone too.”

“All those terrible mental images aside.” Peter sent his Alpha a fully disapproving glare and Wade only waggled his eyebrows in return. “She doesn’t do that crap with you, so why does she do it with me?”

“I’m an Alpha, baby boy.” Wade made his voice exaggeratedly deep. “Even the wildest of animals know not to incur my wrath, far be it for a simple barnyard creature to risk upsetting me.”

“Oh for fucks sake--” Wade got a spoonful of eggs to the face for his sarcasm. “That’s enough out of you. We’re switching chores. You milk the goat and gather the eggs, I’ll spend the morning grooming Bea and Arthur. I’d much rather cuddle up to those beauties than mess with that goat trying to head butt me every time I so much as glance her way.”

“You should growl at her.” Wade wiped the eggs off his face and refilled his coffee cup. “Get a little snarly and she’ll stop testing you.”

“Omegas don’t growl.” Peter pointed out, and Wade countered, “Baby boy, I’d give my left foot to hear you growl some time. Bite me and growl a little and I’d be a mess.”

“You already are a mess.” Peter reached across the table and brushed a missed piece from Wade’s lips, his gaze darting over to the Alpha’s throat and the barely there silvered scar from a long ago bonding. “I’ve never had an Alpha ask me to bite them.”

“Most Alphas probably won’t ask to be bitten.” Wade returned. “Or at least they won’t admit to it. That’s a pretty Omega thing to do-- ask to be bitten.”

“I don’t know about that.” Peter wrinkled his nose. “I’ve shared plenty of heats with Alphas and never asked to be bitten.”

“You’ve never asked an Alpha to bite you?” Wade squashed the urge to snarl possessively. Damn right his mate had never been bitten. “Ever?”

“N-No.” Peter gulped when his Alpha’s hazel eyes blurred red for a few blinks. “No, I’ve never asked. Never even wanted to be bitten. Not ever. That seems um-- it always seemed--” Wade parted his lips and ran his tongue over the hooked points of his fangs and the Omega first went very pale, and then very red, Peter’s own mouth falling open in a mirror of Wade’s motion. “I--I--I mean--it used to seem--”

Peter didn’t even realize he was rubbing over his bonding spot until the Alpha’s eyes dropped to watch. “Um. Holy shit. Wade--”

“Pete.” Wade growled and Peter’s answering whine was purely instinctual, high pitched and coaxing and the Alpha lurched forward to grab him up tight, pushing aside the breakfast to bury his face into his mate’s throat. An open mouthed inhale over Peter’s pulse had Wade growling all over again, clutching at his mate’s side and rumbling low when Peter’s blunt teeth closed over his ear lobe experimentally.

“You um-- you like to be bit, Alpha?”

A flash of heat rolling through Wade’s center as he remembered the burn of Vanessa’s fangs in his neck, the sting of brutally pointed ends at his thigh close enough to more sensitive areas to add a spike of adrenaline to their moments together.

The thought of Peter biting him lit an entirely different spike in the Alpha’s core as he imagined seeing his mate carried away to the point of growling at him, kisses turned messy and sharp, playful bites turned nearly painful and altogether electrifying, fingers scraping and teeth breaking skin and the taste of hormone flush blood on their tongues--

“Alpha.” Peter’s cry was more of a gasp for air, his eyes wide and mouth open in a breathless pant as he dug his fingers into Wade’s shoulders. “What are you doing?”

Wade came back to the moment with a jolt, pulled himself from a heated fantasy he hadn’t realized was spilling into the room and shocking his mate to stillness with the amount of everything he’d put between them. He could nearly taste his own scent in the air, cedar and licorice bruised with lust and it was a sharp contrast to the too sweet scent of honeysuckle swelling rich beneath lavender as Peter reacted almost helplessly to the Alpha’s arousal.

“Sorry. Sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all, but Wade said it anyway, murmured the word over and over as he forced some distance between himself and his mate, unlocking his muscles one by one until he could pry his hands from Peter’s side and get his fangs covered again. “Sorry my Omega, I didn’t mean to get carried away. Sorry sorry. You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Peter was still gasping, practically choking as he tried to get a breath in, pants uncomfortably tight over his straining cock, uncomfortably wet between his thighs. “Alpha what--what--”

Wade ran the heel of his hand own the fasten of his own trousers and bit back a desperate groan when Peter did the same thing, the Omega’s knees falling open and head lolling back as Peter worked to get settled again.

“What--what--” Another attempt at a deep breath. “Holy shit Alpha, what were you thinking about?”

“About you biting me.” The Alpha ground out. “I didn’t realize I was thinking out loud though. Been a long time since I’ve had anyone around to react to that sorta thing. And you-- fuck, Pete-- you react so good to me. Gorgeous.”

“Is that what this is?” Peter moaned quietly, shifting on his seat and relaxing only a modicum when the tension started to ease as Wade got himself further under control. “Good? Gorgeous?”

“So gorgeous.” The flush at Peter’s neck and cheeks was outright enchanting, and Wade didn’t want to look away. “Damn it, Omega. My mate--” Peter whimpered and Wade felt it clear to his soul. “-- you are perfect. Jesus Christ.”

“Alpha.” The tension eased a little more, enough that Peter could send his Alpha a shaky smile. “Should I be flattered or worried that you have a biting kink?”

“Both.” Wade decided and the Omega’s breathless giggle trailed off into a quiet moan. “Flattered cos you don’t even have fangs and I got all hot and bothered. Worried cos you’re absolutely right in thinking our kisses are gonna get weird from here one out.”

“Oh my god.” Wade’s joke lightened the air enough to Peter to sit up again, and his purr for his mate was both soothing and grateful they’d managed to salvage the moment. “Ridiculous.”

“Yeah well.” Wade spread his hands vaguely, and tried to smile at his Omega. “Alright now?”

“Getting there.” Peter slid out of his jacket and dropped it over his lap, tugged his fingers through his hair and took a few steadying breaths. “Tell me this though. How uh-- ahem-- how did we go from me growling at the goat to you suffocating me with all your Alpha hormones and your biting kink?”

“Well you know.” The Alpha paced back several steps, a steady rumble from his chest to make sure Pete knew the distance was a good thing for right now, his tone as dry as he could manage as he answered, “I lived up here a long time alone, Pete. You talk about stubborn goats, I get a little growly, it happens.“

“Ah. I see.” Peter’s dark eyes sparkled in sheer delight. “Do goats make you randy, Alpha?”

“I dunno who Randy is.” Wade said flatly. “Does he have a thing for goats too?”

Peter’s screech of laughter echoed out from the cabin and even over the sound of the wind as Wade headed to the barn to deal with the stubborn goat and finish the morning milking.

He needed a minute away from his mate, and he knew Peter needed a minute to get settled again, so the chores were a perfect distraction until things calmed down again.

Enough.

The Alpha was forever grateful for a mate who could drive him out of his mind with nothing more than a smile, and then bring him right back to sanity with a soft touch and quiet word, and not even the winter cold could dampen Wade’s grin or the swirl of affection in his chest.

Omega.

Mine.

*************

The first snow of the season came one evening as they were closing up the barn for the night, and Wade looked up in surprise when Peter made an excited noise and rushed out to the middle of the clearing.

“Pete? What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing!” Peter’s nose was red from the cold, cheeks rosy and hair askew from his hat, but his smile was huge as he tipped his head back and opened his mouth wide to try and catch a snowflake on his tongue. “I love the snow!”

“You won’t love it much when there’s six feet of it outside the door.” Wade slid the bar on the barn and grinned at his mate spinning around in the yard. “Get your butt inside before you catch cold, Omega.”

“I’m not going to get pneumonia because I caught a few snowflakes.” Peter waved off the Alpha’s concern and concentrated on letting the tiny flakes land on his palm. “And yeah, I’m sure I’ll hate it in a few weeks, but that’s why I have a big strong Alpha to shovel it away from the door for me, right?”

“Are you staying with me for my snow shoveling skills, Pete?” Wade hooked an arm around Peter’s waist and dragged him up close. “I’m shocked and appalled.”

“You’re neither of those things.” Peter retorted. “You knew why I was keeping you around, Alpha. Kisses and your snow shoveling skills. That’s it.”

“That’s it, huh?” The Alpha sighed theatrically at his sassy mate. “I think you should have to sleep with Bea and Arthur for that. I’ll kiss you goodnight and shovel the snow away in the morning to bring you breakfast. That should hold up my end of the deal, huh?”

“Alpha!” Peter burst out laughing when Wade started shoving him towards the barn. “I thought you said you didn't want to sleep away from me anymore! What happened to always sharing a bed!”

“That was before I knew you only wanted me for my kisses and snow shovel.” Wade grabbed at Peter when the Omega tried to run and threw him right over his shoulder, chuckling over Peter’s ack! of surprise. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed!” Peter pounded at Wade’s back with his fists. “And not in the barn! Put you down you brute!”

“Brat.” Wade swatted at Peter’s rear and the Omega shrieked. “Tell me you want me for more than my snow shoveling skills.”

“I refuse!”

“I’m gonna put you in with the goat.” Wade decided and Peter was laughing too hard to properly scream when the Alpha yanked at the barn doors again. “She likes you just fine. You guys will be the best of friends come morning.”

“Okay okay okay!” Peter clung tight to Wade’s waist as the goat bleated in alarm at their sudden reappearance. “Okay I want you for a whole bunch of reasons, the least of which is so you can shovel snow for me when it gets deep. There’s just so many more reasons why I want you. I’ll start working on a list.”

“Well that works out then.” It took no effort at all for Wade to sweep Peter off his shoulder and cradle the Omega bridal style in his arms as he made an abrupt about face and headed back towards the cabin. “Cos I’ve got a whole bunch of reasons I want you too, Pete.”

“Good.” Peter wriggled up and pursed his lips for a kiss Wade was all too happy to receive. “You’ll still shovel snow for me though, right?”

“Brat.” Wade mumbled, but he still leaned in and bumped their noses together, smiling over the snowflakes sparkling on his mate’s eye lashes. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Alpha my Alpha.” Peter whispered and god Wade loved that so much. “I’d do anything for you too.”

******************

Down in Haven, Bruce Banner warmed his hands around his tea cup and took lazy sips of the steaming liquid as he watched the snow come down outside the window.

He loved winter in Haven. The town was beautiful and still, the bustle of hunting season gone away and not set to start up again until the trappers came down the hill in the spring with all their furs. Mutants didn’t get sick quite like humans did, so the common cold wasn’t really a worry. His waiting room wouldn’t be full of nervous mothers and sneezing children, in fact last winter his only calls had been for a few elderly patients and an unfortunate broken leg for one of the kids not blessed with the healing ability found in so many others.

Winter in Haven was calm, and Bruce was the sort of man to always prefer when the world was calm.

“The Omega is like you.” Eddie spoke from behind him and Bruce nodded absentmindedly. “Not from here, he doesn’t belong.”

“No, he doesn’t.” There had been a time when Eddie’s sudden appearance had made Bruce startle, but after almost ten years of knowing Eddie and two of living together, nothing they did bothered the doctor anymore. Not the occasional emergence of the Other lurking inside Eddie, not the nightmares or the fury that could rage so unexpectedly.

“No, Wade’s mate doesn’t belong here.” He said again. “Is that why you startled him at the restaurant a few weeks ago?”

“Wade said there was no harm done.” Eddie never sprawled anymore, they never flopped or stretched out or did anything careless. Every motion was carefully measured, every bit of space they took up carefully allotted lest they do something unacceptable. So no, they didn’t flop into the easy chair, they sat slowly and methodically with arms folded and knees together, shoulders hunched as if trying to hide.

It hurt Bruce’s heart to see Eddie still acting hurt but he knew it was more instinct now than actual fear, so he forewent his usual reminder about relaxing and simply nodded again.

“There was no harm done, Eddie. But is that why you showed him your other side? Because you realized he didn’t belong?”

“We only wanted to see.” A deeper ripple to Eddie’s voice as the Other pushed forward. “We thought he was different like me, but he’s different like you.”

“Peter isn’t a mutant.” Bruce corrected. “But he isn’t from this time, no.”

“Is he from your time?”

“No, he’s from a time further forward than my own.” Bruce poured Eddie a cup of hot chocolate and pushed it towards them. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s dying.” Eddie’s tongue went too long, his teeth too sharp as he inhaled the cocoa scent. “The Omega, Wade’s mate. He’s dying.”

“I think he was just tired or--”

“He’s dying.” Eddie interrupted. “We could smell it, feel him fading. He is dying like you are dying, but you are fading slowly and he is fading faster. He doesn’t have much time left.”

“Cable will be back soon.” Bruce swallowed the last of his tea and poured a fresh cup. “Everything will be alright.”

“Cable should hurry.” Eddie mumbled. “Cable should hurry.”

**************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

**************

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#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #abo dynamics #soulmates #bruce banner #eddie brock

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littlejeanniebean · 4 years

Text

The Marauders | Prongs

A/N: Basically took “Alright there, Evans?” and ran through a busy intersection with it. Fluff, angst for 10 seconds, fluff. Enjoy!

The Prequel (Padfoot)

The Sequel (Wormtail)

The Finale (Moony)

-J xx

In over a century, no one's house points had ever reached negative numbers. Never before had anyone achieved a nice, round -1000. The Marauders, naturally, took pride in that achievement for three reasons (Moony made the list with the flourish of an academic). 1) Snivellus wasn't the reason they were caught, 2) they were notorious and definitely getting a footnote in the next edition of Hogwarts: A History, and 3) the ban on them getting together as a group had been essentially lifted, seeing as they would have to serve detention together (although the wards McGonagall put up in their dorm to keep them apart at all times were still in effect).

“Potter!” angrily.

“Evans!” jovially. You mean smitten. Shut up, Padfoot.

“Well, well, well, the perfect little Ms. Evans. Never thought we'd see your pretty face hereabouts,” Padfoot threw his feet up on the professor's temporarily vacated desk, winked, and feigned obliviousness to Prongs’ scowl.

Evans sent him to the floor with a casual flick of her wand.

“Did you just -” Prongs.

“Did she just -” Wormtail whispered to Moony.

“I do believe she just -” Moony blinked.

“Silent casting,” Prongs was the first to recover, “I always knew you were trying to impress me, E.”

“I need you to apologize to Sev,” she ignored his comment.

“I still don't know why you call him that, like he's your friend or something-”

“Because he is!”

“He called you -”

“I know what he called me!”

“So why's it me you're yellin’ at?”

“How do you think it makes him feel when you showboat around him? Tease him, heckle him endlessly? He doesn't want to be around me because of you - the lot of you! So now he's joined Mulciber's crew and it's not good for him!”

“E, he made his choice -”

“He'd unmake it if you apologized.”

“Not even Merlin could make me.”

“Evans, Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew,” McGonagall addressed them briskly.

“Wait, she really has got detention?” Padfoot.

“Surprisingly,” replied their head of house.

“Just detention or points off?”

“And why should that be any of your business, Mr. Black?” she snapped.

Moony shook his head slightly at Padfoot. The house cup was a point of pride for Minerva and this close to their OWLs she didn't think they'd recover. That was usually their play, you see. Prank their way through the year and then somehow win the cup in a landslide between Moony's grades, Prongs on the pitch, and Padfoot and Wormtail sabotaging everyone else. It was something of an open secret no one could prove.

But Padfoot was itching to find out if they'd really hit the -1000. He'd calculated it so meticulously, you see, Moony even suggested him joining the Arithmancy class.

“Have you determined how many points we've lost yet?” the dogged (see what I did there?) boy asked.

“990,” the old lady said with just a hint of a smirk. Like she kept them from their goal on purpose. Was that still worthy of a footnote? Absolutely. Was that still going to give them all detentions to plan their exploits until the end of the year? Undoubtedly. But Padfoot could never take as well as he could shell out when it came to spite.

To any casual observer, it would seem he was simply nervously fidgeting his hands. But the other Marauders understood the gestures, The cat is going down. The only question is how.

Nononononono, Moony.

She scares me, I don't think we should, Wormtail.

Dig into her. Find blackmail. Have her participate in a charade where we save her life and she awards us enough points to win the cup. Prongs.

And they say I belong in Slytherin, Padfoot.

A true act of bravery is humbling yourself in order to do the right thing. Evans. At this point, they weren't surprised she knew their hand signals.

Hey, Evans, Prongs really, really likes -, Prongs immobilized Padfoot's hands.

No one will notice, E. They kind of need to know about it to award us points for it.

I'll know. she gestured delicately.

He's gonna do it, Moony.

Agreed, Wormtail.

I'll do it, Prongs.

When detention was over, they headed to the Ravenclaw courtyard. According to Evans, Mulciber and Co. would be just finishing duelling club.

“Hey, Marauders! The dancing pineapples were great stuff! Best yet!” Alice gave them a thumbs up with one hand, the other was interlaced with Frank Longbottom's, who gave them a shy grin.

“We do live to please,” Padfoot bowed dramatically.

“M-my favourite part were the rabbits - h-how did you get them to disappear into the un-enchanted hat?” the quiet boy asked.

“Old muggle trick,” Moony proudly professed.

“Don't encourage them, you two!” Evans shook her head, although Prongs would later swear he saw her mouth twitch in amusement, “Move along, then.”

Mulciber and a few other Slytherins were the only ones still in the courtyard when the small group arrived.

“Godric help me,” Prongs murmured, pausing to wipe his glasses. He could scourgify, but he found the physical action therapeutic, “Hey, Sniv-”

Evans jabbed him in the gut.

Prongs took a deep breath. He was Gryffindor. He didn't have all that much Hufflepuff tolerance, but he could muster the courage to swallow his pride, “Snape.”

The greasy, pale boy with a nose too big for his sullen face emerged from the black-robed group, hunched slightly on the defensive, “You have something to say to me, Potter?”

“Yes…” the silence was heavier than a full cauldron, “Yes, I do.”

There was more silence. Shuffling. Whispered jeers. But no one wanted to go up against the Marauders, not with the three-time duelling champion, Evans standing on their side.

Looking down at his shoes, Prongs spoke, “I… I would like to… apologize.”

The snickers were quickly silenced with a deft twirl of Evans’ wand.

“I would like to apologize,” he raised his eyes and looked at Snape evenly, willing him to believe he was sincere, “I realize I may have offended you. I… regret to say it was intentional. You're not… not bad… Snape,” using the boy's proper name still felt foreign, and it only made Prongs feel all the guiltier, “You're smart, smarter than I'll ever be. And… and long before anyone ever realized how incredible, and talented, and - and - and magical E, here, is, you believed in her. Honestly, that… that made me jealous. And I'm sorry I took that out on you. It won't happen again. Not from me, not from any of the boys. Marauders’ honour.”

For a while, it seemed everyone was too shocked to speak. The boys assumed Prongs would utter a simple “sorry” and be done with it. But Evans' reaction, oh, her face was burned into his memory at that moment. It was the first time she looked at him like that. Like he had touched her heart.

“Sev,” Evans ventured, but when she stepped forward, he recoiled, his eyes flitting about nervously, looking anywhere but her, but the Marauders, “Sev… what… what do you think?”

“You put him up to this,” he spat.

“Well... I -”

“This is some kind of… some kind of prank, well, I don't buy it!” he rounded on Evans, “How could you take part in this?”

“Sev!”

“Snape…” Prongs sighed, “as much as it pains me to say, I meant every word. And frankly, if I was in her shoes and you'd just called me a - a - that filthy word, this would absolutely be a prank, but as it stands, she's a much better person than I am.”

Snape snarled at Evans, “You dropped me the moment Mr. Too-Good-for-Anyone here, waltzed in. There was no room in Slughorn's little club for me, his top Potions student! I was… I was… What was I supposed to think? Well, I'm with Mulciber and Lucius now. At least they value loyalty. At least they value me.”

Something in the girl's sharp green eyes snapped, “I was his tutor! I had to be around him! How dare you try to use that to justify your - your - your superiority complex! You don't think your half-blood heritage is something to be proud of. You blame it for your failures as a wizard. You couldn't stand that I - with not a drop of magical blood - could succeed,” she teared up and angrily rubbed her sleeve against her freckled cheeks, “You stopped believing in me a long time ago. But I never wanted to stop believing in you. Now I see you've made your position clear. In which case, there's nothing left to be said.”

She stalked off, chin tucked into her chest and fists balled tight at her side. With a glare at Snape, Prongs followed her. The rest of the group followed Prongs. Snape sniffed, turned back to the other Slytherins, and was relieved they asked no questions. But it wasn't for his comfort. They just didn't care.

News quickly spread across the castle of The James Potter apologizing to Snivellus. All the professors knew of it.

Dumbledore called Prongs into his office. When he came out, Gryffindor had earned fifty points. He won another 150 and the Quidditch cup the following week.

Flitwick asked Moony to stay after Charms class. When he came out, Gryffindor had earned seventy points for devising seven levels of achievement for pineapple tap-dances for use in future final exams.

McGonagall asked Padfoot to loan her the enchanted bike he stashed in the Shrieking Shack. The Gryffindor's silence was bought for five hundred points.

Evans won the duelling cup (again) - another hundred and fifty. She also brewed an Amortentia so potent Slughorn was essentially drugged into handing them seven hundred points.

Wormtail let a dung bomb go off in Filch's office. Slytherin, who was the only house still in the lead at this point, lost 100 points, one for every member of Mulciber's crew, except Lucius, who got his girlfriend, Narcissa to vouch for him, saying he was in the common room the entire time.

Under the red and gold banners in the Great Hall, Evans called Prongs out on staring at her.

“You're beautiful, E,” he shrugged like it was a simple fact. He let himself say it because he knew she would think he's only teasing.

“And you've got pumpkin pasty on your cheek,” she returned, her eyes smiling.

“Tell her how you feel,” Padfoot sang.

“Tell her that it's real,” Moony.

“Tell her you're stupefied from your head down to your heels!” Wormtail, slightly off key, followed by a burp that makes his plump cheeks turn red.

Prongs and Evans laugh it off, not meeting each other's eyes.

“You know, you never did tell us how you ended up in detention,” the bespectacled boy changed the subject.

“Oh, I… may or may not have transfigured Malfoy…”

“Into what?” the boys chorused eagerly.

“A… A ferret.”

They guffawed.

“And they say I'm not your type,” Prongs winked, his bravado back in full swing.

“It - It was an accident! It was just supposed to turn his hair into a skunk on his head, but -”

They laughed uproariously for two minutes straight until their ribs were sore and their eyes tearing.

“But,” Evans continued, “I was so mad I… he goaded Sev - Severus. He turned him into someone… someone he didn't have to be.”

Prongs had never felt so lucky that his friends have stuck by him since the beginning. He couldn't imagine how she felt. He gently placed his hand over hers and gave her a comforting squeeze. She smiled graciously. She was looking at him like that again.

“Moony, I know what we're going to do this summer,” Padfoot slung his arm around his friend.

“Padfoot, I believe I do as well,” they clinked their goblets together.

“Oi, Frank!”

“Oh, Alice!”

“We're getting Jily together! Wanna help?”

“Pads, that's never going to catch on.”

Extra Scene:

“Okay, picture this, fireworks during the summer solstice depicting all the best Jily moments -” Padfoot.

“He'll serenade her with a ballad we'll write about love through the ages -” Moony.

“Over a picnic with only sweet things like chocolate and pumpkin pasties - he can pull the ‘pumpkin pasty on your cheek’ line on her!” Wormtail.

“While a garden of roses dances around them, petals floating in the summer breeze -” Alice.

“W-why doesn't he just tell her how he feels? J-just keep it honest and simple?” all eyes riveted to Frank incredulously, “I-I-I mean, it worked when he apologized to Snape, didn't it?”

“Nononono, this is different!” Padfoot exclaimed.

“Exactly, the research doesn't lie!” Moony pointed at the piles of Witch Weekly back issues he'd read for their plot.

Alice nodded, “You went big with me, Frankie, and look at us now!”

“W-well, I was stepping out of my comfort zone. You appreciated that. Y-you did, didn't you?”

“Yes, my little softie,” she kissed his cheek.

“Oh, okay, great, I mean, I - I know we're together and everything, but I - I didn't want to presume... anyway - James would be perfectly at home with a flamboyant gesture. He needs something grounding, something that will make Lily take him seriously.”

“Merlin's beard, he's right! We'll lock them in a broom closet!” Padfoot declared.

“The library at the Potters',” said Moony, “it's more romantic.”

“To you, maybe,” Alice chortled.

“No, no, but she used to tutor him in the library at Hogwarts, it's perfect!” Wormtail exalted.

Padfoot slapped the plump blond in the back, “Excellent! Frank, you tell Prongs to wait for you there, he won't suspect anything coming from you. Alice… well, Evans won't buy it coming from you, but maybe get her to ingest some of Moony's sleeping drought, that way she won't not come.”

“You want me to kidnap my best friend?”

“Well… er, yes?”

“I'll do it!”

She did it. Evans was upset and muttered something about being “Not some bloody princess." Prongs was upset and swore up and down he knew nothing about it.

Their plans were set back by about two years when ‘Jily’ got together all on their own.

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hollywoodhangar · 4 years

Note

If you're alright with it, Elmer and Bugs?

the ultimate ship meme!

General:

How long will they last? - Unless you erase one in DIP, they’re a love that’s not going anywhere. They’re old fashion and sweet like that, no matter the hardship.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Biggest slowburn with a decade under the belt. Bugsy boy’s time for falling remains an enigma, but after ten years, Elmer started feeling genuinely hot under the collar and really did go red in the face when it came to Bugs. :’)

How was their first kiss? - Very sudden and very sweet over breakfast. Bugs has a way of dropping the affection fast and furious and out of the blue!

Wedding:

Who proposed? - The Humble Hunter himself. It was a very, very bashful proposal where he kept iterating Bugs doesn’t have to accept it but Bugs shut him up and gave him a kiss before plopping that big rock of a ring on his fingers. And yes, it was a very extravagant ring, with the main gem an orange topaz shaped like a carrot. Yes this is a carat pun go away.

Who is the best man/men? - Yosemite Sam for Elmer, Daffy, Pepe and Porky for Bugs. :> Yosemite cried a lot and hid it behind his hat.

Who did the most planning? - Elmer did a little more than Bugs only because the Big Bunny himself understandably got wound up with work, but both have a big hand in the going-ons, and whenever Bugs comes home he’s happy to see what Elmer’s got cooking so far. uwu

Who stressed the most? - I don’t think they really stressed this. They were a t eam tackling it together! Even when Bugs gets really tied up with work, Elmer honestly handles it just fine. Plus, Granny’s had her offer in to help since the beginning, so she’s right there beside him helping set everything into place.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 [modest but VERY pretty wedding in the garden] | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Elmer has no qualms, but I’m sure Bugs has a few names on his list!

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - None! It’s aaaalll adoption!

How many children will they adopt? - They get about four kids adopted, and are no strangers to taking on Bugs’s hundreds of nieces and nephews whenever their parents need a break. :D

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - They thumb war for it LOL. But they still have their maturity and when one is feeling a little too queasy to handle it, the other doesn’t mind taking over. It’s not a matter of “who” as much as it is depending on the situation and who is the best at winning a war.

Who is the stricter parent? - I guess Elmer? But he’s really soft. Still, Bugs does get cool parent points for being a lot more lax about things and a lot more energetic than Elmer.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Elmer, for sure. Bugs has a lot more confidence in the kids and wants to see what they can do! .. But that still doesn’t stop the automatic flight button to swoop in and catch the kids LOL.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Elmer’s always the first to do it! Bugs just kind of accepts Elmer’s got it covered, especially since he’d always tell his bun if he’s out of commission and asks him to do it instead.

Who is the more loved parent? - Bugs, for sure. Poor Elmer doesn’t stand a chance. xD

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Both! Unless Bugs is way too caught up in work.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Bugs, for sure. Elmer of course was shedding tears but Bugs was stealing the emotional parent spotlight and being the loudest one in the crowd, which is impressive considering it’s a graduation filled with toons.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Bugs is always the first by like, instinct lmao. He’s literally there popping into their cell and LITERALLY digging them out.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Elmer! BUT He likes the bonding of couplehood when Bugs joins in. It’s very sweet. uwu

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Hmm, I guess Bugs sometimes? I can definitely see Bugs being picky about food when the moment strikes, generally when served by a chef or waiter that hit the wrong button and triggered Mischief Mode.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Both do!

How often do they bake desserts? - Regularly! Carrot cake is a constant scent in the household after Bugs moved in!

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Both! Salad wins out by half a yard though because Elmer’s always growing them greens in his garden and has been even before Bugs moved in. <:

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Oh, I can see this totally being a Bugs move and it makes Elmer melt every time. <3

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Bugs!

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Bugs.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - They’re both pretty tidy. <:

Who is really against chores? - Neither! It’s more of who’s too busy to do them, which can sometimes be Bugs, but I say sometimes because I imagine he’s actually very mindful of his surroundings and cleans up as he goes along.

Who cleans up after the pets? - No pets!

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Sometimes Bugs might try it but Elmer’s right there to go “nuh-uh.”

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Elmer, I think!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Elmer. Bugs is the sort to just sometimes leave it everywhere. It stresses Fudd out to no end and he’ll gather what he finds and bring it to his bun only to be told to keep it. It’s honestly endearing to Bugs that Elmer never fails to bring the money right back to him lol. It’s cute.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Bugs! He likes his long and pampering bathtimes!

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They got no doggo!

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - EVERY Holiday month. Bugs ends up getting into competitions with the neighbors and goes over the top while Elmer’s contently hanging up ghosts or setting up Rudolph on the roof, oblivious to the showboating going on behind him.. until the electricity in the neighborhood just shuts down LMAO.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Just happily coexist. Eventually they’ll get married and adopting some kiddos will be on the agenda, but for now it’s just easy-going and enjoying the ride.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - I feel like Bugs is all over this.

Who plays the most pranks? - BUGS BUNNY.

#(( cottagecore marriage. I adore them so much man!! ))#(( thank you for sending one in!! ))#long post #elmer&bugs.#♈ [ BLOG; ASK. ] ━ 『 letters to hollywood. 』#♈ [ BLOG; OOC. ] ━ 『 out of creation. 』

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 4 years

Photo

Following the attack against the United Nations the Island of Krakoa and the Avengers knew that they could no longer wait to confront Osborn once and for all. Arriving at a press conference at Citi Field, Osborn’s true colors were revealed before he was subdued once and for all. Just becuase that fight ended, however, doesn’t mean that the war is over.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

OSBORN: ”Please-- please.” Norman raised both of his hands to the crowd gathered around to quiet down the overlapping questions being thrown at him. Plastered across his face was an easily faked solemn look, the corners of his mouth pinched down just slightly to give off the idea that he was troubled by the events of late. He let a few seconds pass, and then slowly let his arms fall to his side. “Tonight, I will answer your questions to the best of my ability and with all of the facts we have so far. What happened at the UN was a tragedy-- one that I am finding quite difficult to process. The attack lead to a huge loss of life, and I want the nation of Krakoa to know that despite our disagreements, the President is saddened by the losses. I still have hope for a future where we can work together, and during this time of grief I want that to be as clear as ever.”

EMMA: To put it in simple words Emma Grace Frost was fucking livid. Her anger had been boiling under her skin ever since she had come to with a broken nose because Kate had no choice but to literally sock her back into her right mind. Before it was embarrassment that had settled over in an unsettling restless buzz. The humiliation had been shoved to the back of her mind now by debris and broken glass. They had killed her daughters. Three blonde beautiful ( albeit bitchy ) telepaths who had already known death too well felled in one burst. They had killed Kate. Kate. Her Katherine, the prodigy she hadn’t meant to take but loved fiercely all the same. Kate hadn’t been her first choice for the Red Throne, if she was being honest. After being turned down by Ororo and her daughters she had taken a chance and it had worked better than anyone could imagine. She had sat with burning eyes in front of the three remaining Five, two of which she and Scott had resurrected to Nation-X and the other her former student. The children had shook, wracked with the sorrow over their missing friends and those they had lost. They had seen Emma upset before but this was different. She was different. Hands had quivered as she had unearthed the black fabric from the back of her closet. A simple request had been for Scott to leave her be as she prepared for the confrontation they had planned. Dead eyes had stared in the mirror for far too long, her mind knowing that the she had worn black before and it was time to once more. They had made hushed plans with the Avengers with quieted voices under wary eyes. They were tired. Bone fucking wary. Another day, another war. As the various groups began to arrive on the field the glowing light from one of Illyana’s discs revealed a group of mutants. Although it was humid out diamond failed to bend to any temperature and there was an icy detachedness that allowed Emma to step first from the light and onto the field where heels sank into the grass. Her armor had always been made of her own skin, of her own determination. When she kicked Norman’s teeth in it would be a Versace clad platform that did the damage. “Saddened by the losses.” Emma was unable to keep the drollness from her scoff. “There’s quite a few of us who are sad, Norman, and I doubt you’re one of them. I know we’ve been having a lovely little song and dance but I hope you know that your game ends tonight.” As she spoke she had made her way closer to the platform, black clad arms crossing over an exposed diamond chest. “I’m prone to believe that you don’t deserve a last word, but I’ll allow you one anyway. You have sixty seconds.”

OSBORN: "Miss Frost." Norman's tone shifted. He kept his body still for the reporters, but his face hardened as the telepath approached. "Did you not just hear me say that someday, I still hope to see us work together? It's what I've wanted since the beginning, but you make it far more difficult than it needs to be." From behind his podium, he glanced over Emma and the others with her before allowing himself a short smirk. "I am the President. I believe that means I have as much time as I'd like. You and your friends will have to wait."

STEVE: “Show’s over Norman, we’ve got the proof we need to show everyone who you really are.” Steve stepped forward, stopping a few feet away. “You brought people back just to use them as inside men and then triggered the explosion that killed a handful of mutants just to hide the truth behind you really are. That ends today, whether you like it or not.”

SCOTT: Death was something he was tired of knowing. Scott followed behind in Emma’s wake, his shoulder’s square and his back straight despite the heavy feeling in his chest. He wanted to sit down —- he wanted to escape to his home on the moon and sit in his chair and stare out of the window at the Earth. The burning hot rage of revenge was mild at best, a small candle wick instead of an inferno. Sure, he wanted to make Osborn pay for his role in the bombing, but his grief had become so overwhelming that it had simmered into a quiet numbness. Still, he hadn’t let Emma or the other mutants handle this affair alone and he would do his part to remind Osborn that he was playing with something more dangerous than fire. Stopping a few feet behind her, he swung his gaze up to meet Osborn’s dead stare and he remembered the blast he sent towards Nathan that hit Osborn instead. He had to admit, he wished it would have been more intentional then.

RAHNE: Rahne was furious. Anger bubbled in her chest and her vision became tinged red the more everyone spoke. Her friends were dead - and it was all Osborn’s fault - but now was not the time to act. She had to wait, hope things could somehow be worked out diplomatically, despite how much she knew that was not possible. Clawed fingertips dug into the palms of her hands as she focused on remaining in her half shifted form despite the rush of frustration and anger clouding her judgement.

SAM: Okay, so they were doing it. The scene was nothing like when they had first been resurrected and came to the battlefield against Thanos, the sparks from the sorcerers portals snapping against the dust and debris. This time there was no wry on your left or charged moment when Mjölnir connected with Steve’s hand. It was Sam who had the shield strapped to him this time as his wings folded as boots hit the ground. Emma was handling the showboating but that was fine. It wasn’t Sam’s thing anyway. Osborn had crossed way too many lines way too long ago but they had kept pushing without shoving hard enough to do something. Now he had lost a teammate, children their mother and a mother her children. Steve spoke and Sam watched, just like he had done so many times before. A part of his mind reminded that he was Captain America now. He needed to say something on behalf on everyone that couldn’t because of the smug looking bastard in front of them. “You happy now, Osborn? You’ve arrested us, manipulated us and murdered us. I can’t stand here and call myself Captain America if you’re the one in front of this country. How hard you going to make this?”

OSBORN: Norman's immediate reaction to Steve's accusations was a scoff, and then he leaned forward at his podium to grip both sides of it as his glanced moved to Scott and then Sam. "Happy? No, not quite. Things haven't exactly gone to plan. And now my heartfelt press conference has been interrupted by so-called heroes who claim that I have some.. sinister motive. I wouldn't expect anyone to be happy when being threatened like this. Especially after an attempted assassination." He shot another look to Scott before moving out from behind the podium. "This is nothing but a stunt. All of you-- the X-Men, Avengers, all the little teams you like to tote around-- you have a tendency to act dramatically when it is not required. I suggest that you all pack up and leave before you say anything you regret."

ILLYANA: She was feeling like a traveling party bus at this point with how often she was moving people, but Illyana couldn’t complain. Her invitation to the bloodbath had been unresponded to. If she hadn’t been busy being a Combat Captain of Krakoa in its ridiculously titled glory she would have been at the U.N. and a subsequent pile of ash. Instead she was leaning on the Soulsword as the tip dug into the overly expensive astroturf of the field. She had never been to an American ball game. Sam ( Guthrie ) had wanted to go with the group but it seemed incredibly stupid. Now he was dead and she debated feeling bad but decided not to.“Bad news,” the corners of her lips tugged down at Osborn’s suggestion. “I’m their ride and I think we should all stay. Sorry.”

CAROL: What a complete and utter disaster. As Carol touched down, she was just as angry as the rest of them, her emotions manifesting as a barely visible glow that surrounded her body. It took everything to stay by Sam and not land directly on that stage to end this now and boy -- it was a hard impulse to suppress. When Osborn responded, Carol bit her tongue, and not in response to his warning. She truly just wanted to spit fire. "We should end this here." She said in Sam's direction, even though she had a sneaking suspicion what he'd say. "Green light and I'll take the heat."

PIETRO: Pietro had been through a lot. The death of his parents, excruciating experiments at the hands of Nazi’s he didn’t know were at the head of them, and then he died. Yet, by far, the worst thing to date, was the death of his twin, someone who he’d not even existed without in the womb, yet alone life. The telepathic message she inserted into his brain at the moment of her death—he felt it in the very root of his being, as if the very breath in his lungs had been ripped from him. He suddenly chucked the bottle of asgardian ale in his hand at Norman, and through blurred vision, he yelled “Go to hell—you’ve played your little game for long enough. You deserve to rot.”

SAM: There was a small nod in Carol’s direction and a hint of relief he hoped she could pick up on. He wanted to be one who jumped the gun but if there was one thing being a Black man in modern day America had taught him it was that you had to stop, assess and move smartly. Maybe that made him a shitty superhero. Sam hadn’t really learned to balance his various identities yet but he was working on it. Then the Maximoff kid was yelling - Sam had smelled the liquor and made the mistake of ignoring it out of respect for his grief - and it looked like things were going to take a turn. It was inevitable but sooner than he had thought. “Not yet.” He spoke in low tones under his breath to Carol. “Not yet.”

OSBORN: Carol and Sam were whispering-- Norman made a note of that. Then a split second later he was dodging a flying bottle of alcohol. It missed him, but when it hit the ground next to him the remaining drink splashed up onto his pant leg. He groaned in annoyance, then straightened his spine and pulled down on his suit to rid it of wrinkles. "Per usual-- a dramatic outburst." Something was going to happen, and soon. He was ready. But he was content to avoid the confrontation for as long as possible. Playing the part had become fun, and he wasn't quite ready to drop the act. "Anyone else have something to say? Hm?"

CAROL: Carol swung a glance at him, her gaze narrowed and frustrated. Balling her fists, she kept her feet planted. Sam was her stop and go, someone she respected in such a high regard that when he called the shots, Carol would take a step back and listen. Drawing in a breath, Carol met Osborn's gaze. "How many more is he going to kill before we take his head off his shoulders?"

CRYSTALIA: Somehow Crystalia had gotten stuck with evacuation duty. Maybe it had something to do with her teleporting dog, and while she hated the stupid humans touching Lockjaw and ogling him she also knew that it would be rude to let them stay in the stadium when a fight was inevitable. After the last round was removed, both Inhuman and Inhuman dog materialized in the field to see the bottle being thrown. “That’s how this is starting? Her gaze moved from the white haired speedster to the smirking asshole in the suit. “We’re throwing things at one another?”

EMMA: “His head can stay on his shoulders.” Emma’s voice was quiet. “See, death isn’t scary anymore. We don’t fear death because it was conquered. What people like you deserve is far worse.” With lips pursed together, the blonde let the diamond slowly recede until it slipped down her skin and revealed pale flesh. It was only now that she registered the dampness of the air even if it didn’t bother her. She had carried the Phoenix Force on her back, after all. This heat was nothing in comparison. “I’m afraid your sixty seconds are far past up and there’s some people you’ve recently hurt that would like to have a word with you. Scott, darling, would you like to begin?”

SCOTT: They'd discussed this privately before they'd arrived with the rest of the mutants. They'd debated the consequences and discussed other options. But Scott had heard the pain in her voice and he was sure his was just as heavy. Scott was tired of letting weak men pretend they were strong and put on a show and murder their people and so, when his name filtered through the frustration and reached his ears, Scott didn't hesitate. He depressed the lock and his visor lifted and this time, the blast was deliberate and aimed right for Osborn.

PIETRO: Despite his inebriated state, Scott’s blast still fired slowly. Pietro watched it and thought—what a great time to hit him. Frankly, he wished he’d thought of it sooner. Bolting forward, he accelerated to a solid mach 5 speed and swung right for Osborns face. At this point consequences no longer mattered to him.

RIPLEY: With the shit that Osborn had pulled it seemed like it was a no brainer that the Avengers would roll in to square up at his next appearance. Had they been smart they could have used it as a trap, but instead some of his Avengers and X-Men were waiting in the vicinity to see what happened. When they started attacked she had slowly lowered herself to the stage to watch the events in mild amusement. Carol would come from her ass later and while Ripley was really ready to actually kill her tonight she wanted to play the game for a little bit. In all honesty Ripley may have been able to do something to help Norman but she just let him get wrecked.

OSBORN: Scott moved-- Norman's eyes flicked over to him as the mutant's hand raised and that's when the persona was dropped. He barely had the thought to lift his arm and prepare to block the blast before he felt a fist meet with his jaw. Since it was from Pietro, there was no way he had seen that coming and instead of being in the line of fire he was pushed a few feet to the side. As he stumbled down, feeling the punch resonate, Norman caught himself with one hand and watched as Scott's blast flew past him. From his crouched position, Norm lifted his free hand and traced his thumb along his jawline where it was pulsing from the hit. He glanced to his thumb after he lifted it away and noticed the traces of makeup left behind. "Interesting." After pushing himself to his feet, Norman took in a deep breath and slicked back the hair that had been knocked loose and turned back to the crowd of Avengers and mutants. "I don't think you'll be needing that proof anymore." His true face was peeking out from underneath the makeup along the bottom of his face-- just enough to be seen. "I am exactly who you say I am. And you know what.. I have been itching for this fight for a long time now." The smirk stretched wider across his face, and then the sound of metal pieces clattering together could be heard as he lifted a hand and aimed a newly formed repulser at the crowd. "I'll let my Avengers take care of you--" The comment was directed at the drunk speedster to the side of him. "Because I've got better things to do." And then he fired a blast, not aiming for anyone specific.

PIETRO: To be honest, he hadn’t expected that. He glanced down at his fist and then back at Norman, whose ugly face was more so than usual. The green peeked out from beneath the smeared flesh tone and whatever was left covered his knuckles. Was he really that drunk or was that real?

VALKYRIE: She had brought the pegasus merely because she could. Val was tempted to leave the Midgardian's to their infighting but it was likely that Loki would be there as well so her absence seemed negligent. Royal duties and such, after all. As soon as the hooves connected with the ground the Valkyrie slipped off the steed and promptly lurched to the side to avoid the blast as the pegasus flew away.

YOUNG JEAN: They had killed her. Or, at least, her future self she had diverged from. With Betsy and Jean gone they were short telepaths and the Cuckoos were who knows here. Emma couldn’t use her telepathy while in diamond form but seemed reluctant to drop it. Even though she was an adult the younger ( and now only ) Jean still found herself looking around for either Scott or Logan. Osborn had a telepath on the premise but she couldn’t place him.

ERIK: Both he and his son were mourning their loss in.. different ways. Showing up to this confrontation drunk was certainly not how Erik wanted to present himself-- but he could at least relate to the impulse of punching Osborn in the face. Once Norman aimed to the crowd, Erik lifted himself off the ground and flew over to his son. To his frustration, the tech on the President's arm couldn't be manipulated with his powers. Erik had hoped Stark's material hadn't gotten into his hands, but he wasn't that lucky. "Pietro." Once he landed again, he walked over to him. "I would applaud your decisiveness if you weren't being foolish."

YOUNG SCOTT: The repulser went straight into the crowd and despite the rallying cry they were all there to make, Scott didn't want to replicate the sorrow on his older self's face. Grabbing for Jean, he pulled her towards him, away from the chaos that ensued. "We shouldn't stay here." It wasn't like him to abandon a fight right when it began, but he had a primary concern and that was not to start a war with Osborn.

PIETRO: The disappointment in his voice triggered a deep rooted memory of the man who raised him, one that he’d considered his real father until a few weeks ago. For a flash of a second he felt guilty, and then the part of his mind that recalled his disdain for Erik quite clearly, straightened his spine. He lifted his chin to eye him. “Too bad I don’t care what you think.” he said. “You’re welcome by the way—“ he motioned to the bastard that was Osborn “Now the world knows he’s as a madman just as we have.”

YOUNG JEAN: “He killed her, Scott.” One hand clung to Scott’s arm as the two moved in tandem back a few steps. “I have to be here.” Even though they no longer shared their telepathic connection a few thoughts still passed from one mind to the other as Jean shook her head. “It’s our fight. They put me in a freaking freezer for a month and that’s nowhere near the worst of it. I can’t leave.”

YOUNG SCOTT: Scott's gaze went between Jean and the stage and he squeezed her arm tightly, but he didn't urge her back any more. "Exactly. He killed her, he killed a bunch of us and it was easy for him. He won't stop there." He knew by the serious tone in her voice that there was no getting Jean to safety. They would stay, wouldn't they? "You can't die on me again."

NORMAN: That was the goal-- start the chaos, let it ripple out through the crowd. Everyone he was facing would have to be wary of reporters fleeing the scene and make sure they didn't get hurt. Not that he cared, but they did. After sending out another random blast, Norman let out a cackle and reached for a few of his pumpkin bombs-- because what was the use of holding back now?

EMMA: It probably had to do with her close proximity to the so called president that put Emma near his assault. Someone had to get smacked by his blast but she had enough time to return to her diamond before it hit her. Although it knocked her over it didn’t hurt and for that Emma was glad. Or, she would have been if her mind wasn’t laser focused in her desire to wipe Norman out. Still, the attack meant that flesh was exposed for a moment as Emma picked herself up and wiped grass from her knees. Erik was in discussion with his spawn and her cape snapped as she stormed over to the two. “Wanda’s dead. That’s terribly sad. I feel for you both, truly. But this is not the time for family matters. Erik,” Emma angled her body so that Pietro was slightly blocked out. “I know you are upset about Lorna, but I also lost a daughter. Three, but that’s not the point. You and I agreed he should die but I think we may have to settle with bringing him into custody. Can I count on you for more than a few half ass attempts right now?”

ERIK: Erik wanted to be annoyed-- scratch that, he was a bit annoyed. Out of all his children, Pietro was the one he butted heads with the most. But right now wasn't the time or place for a meaningless argument. "Wanda wouldn't want you to get yourself killed going after a madman while intoxicated. Have you thought of that?" He replied, then turned to look as Osborn shot another blast. It hit dangerously close to Emma, but there was no surprise on his face as she got up without a scratch and made her way over to them. Taking in a sharp breath, Erik's face twisted at Emma's suggestion. Silence hung in the air between them as he struggled to come to terms with it-- but Emma was right. As much as he wanted Osborn to be put down for good, there was always a logical choice that had to be made. He gave her a nod. "You know you can."

YOUNG JEAN: “You and I have a strict no dying on each other policy, remember?” Her head snapped up to see the sky fill with circular objects and there was a telekinetic shove before they were sent flying in the other direction. Maybe she could have used better precision but there was a lot going on and there was no way two Jeans were going to blow up within three days of each other. “We need to help. I bet Erik and Emma can tell us how.”

EMMA: Looking at Erik, Emma had to resist the urge to block off her telepathy. Her diamond form had its perks but it was also too easy to misuse it. She had been in Erik’s head. Emma knew her way around but she had gained respect for the man that she hadn’t always possessed. “We will make this right.” Her words were a promise. “He doesn’t get to take them from us. But for now,” her shoulders rotated to once again allow Pietro to join in. “You need to get your shit together and come sit at the adult table. Our best chance at taking down this egotistical joke is together.”

YOUNG SCOTT: Scott just stared at her for a minute, the hesitation clear in the lines of his face. And then finally. "You're right. I just don't want Osborn to be the reason I lose you too." Too, as in Scott losing Jean. It almost felt like they were doomed to dance like this forever. "I just wish there was another way." But yeah, she was right. What would running from this do other than leave their friends to fight alone?

ILLYANA: Illyana had mostly been moving around the perimeter of the field as they all began to fight. If you could call it a fight, that was. Mostly it seemed like it consisted of Pietro being drunk and acting out while everyone else stood around debating doing something instead of actually doing anything. As Emma spoke to Erik the telepath sent a discreet message to the younger blonde mutant. One disc later and she was hopping to suck a few mutants into her pull and deposit them into a section of the field. “You’re all being useless,” her gaze trailed over the likes of Laura, Remy, Quentin and some of the original X-Men. “And the best way to get over being sad is toppling dictators. So, get on it.”

ERIK: His jaw was tight as he listened to Emma and focused on the President, watching his movements carefully. He saw Jean and Scott and various mutants scattered about. And then Norman turned his attention towards them-- an unsurprising move, considering the lot of them were just standing around at the moment.

OSBORN: Easy targets. The drunk mutant was surrounded by a few others now, and they didn't seem very invested-- so Norman decided to change that. Lifting his blaster again, he waited for the short high pitched hum to finish as it charged before firing it directly at them. "Get your heads in the game, friends! It's never wise to be caught standing around!"

YOUNG JEAN: He was being cute but there was no way in hell that Jean was going to back down and they both knew it. “Have a little bit of faith here. I can participate in a major fight without dying along the way.” She wanted to quip that even if she did die she could be brought back, but with the Five broken up it there was a sobering possibility that it may not be possible. The idea that Jean and the others were actually gone wasn’t a reality that Jean wanted to face so she just traced the lines of Scott’s face instead. “There isn’t.” Her voice was firm. “I love you, Slim. Let’s stop talking now and get this over with.”

REMY: He hadn’t accepted the original invitation — not that he’d gotten one, and he wouldn’t have anyway. As much as he wished to confront the child napping, mutant killing monster that was ~their president, Remy had stayed behind with Dawn, watching the small child go through the motions, completely and blissfully unaware of what happened to her mother. He’d stayed on the couch, keeping an eye on Dawn who’d been smashing toys together at her place on the floor, and he hadn’t really moved. Not unless needed. It was a cold state to exist in, and it was one that had only grown since he’d learned the news. And found out that resurrection was impossible. It was the aid of Lorna’s aunt and Illyana’s lack of behest ( it truly was a dull motivation ) that finally got Remy to his feet, where he put one foot in front of the other and felt as hard stone turned to too soft grass. As the sun hit his eyes, he had the staggering thought that he didn’t want to be here. In the chaos, in the fight. It was loud and cumbersome and it immediately drowned out his thoughts of Lorna, filling his mind with necessary but unwanted cues from the field around him. Sucks when your body didn’t want to die, but your mind didn’t care. “T’is is the B team?” he laughed, though the sound was dull. “Glad t’ see we finally made it.”

LAURA: With less people readily available they all had a shift in responsibility. Laura had heard what Emma was planning but she had been waiting on a call to see if they needed to try and storm C.R.A.D.L.E. again. When Illyana came she didn’t have much choice in the matter though and as they were more or less dumped at the scene light eyes looked over Remy’s ragged form. He looked rough but she would’t comment on it. “Or the reserves.” Her claws popped out as Laura flexed her fingers. Before she could say anything else there was a sound that grated against her senses and she lunged forward to smash her body into Remy’s to send them both flying to the side and away from the blast.

EMMA: The plan was simple. They’d beat Norman Osborn into submission and Emma would smash his brain into a billion pieces so they could take him into custody where he’d spend eternity drooling on himself. That being said, simple plans always had complications. One moment they were discussing about how to move and the next there was a hot flash as an attack smashed into the group, sending them all toppling. Had she had any indication or warning Emma would have encased herself in diamond but instead her body got tangled up in Scott’s and she hit the ground hard, head cracking into the turf.

CAROL: The blast was loud and immediate, slamming into the core ground with such force it dispersed them in odd directions and shoved them hard into the ground. Carol’s helmet came down to cover her face and just before her features were obscured, she gave Sam a knowing look. It was time. With a one track mind, Carol pushed off into the air and did what she did best — she sent continuous blasts straight for Osborn while also flying straight towards him. If she had to, she was going to tackle that man and slingshot him into the moon.

SAM: The second the mutants went down Sam was airborne. His wings unfurled before he launched himself upwards. The metal tightened around his body so he could do a barrel turn and fling the shield towards Norman’s head. “Consider this the green light, Cap.” He spoke over to his com to Carol even though they were both in the sky. The shield ricocheted back and he managed to keep it in his grasp even though the shockwave reverberated up his forearm. “Give me some kind of confirmation that you guys on the ground are okay and able to rally right now.”

TONY: Tony wasn’t able to get a shield up in time to block it completely, but he tried to get it out in front of both him and Nat. He was wearing a suit-- a real Iron Man suit-- and was getting real annoyed at the tech Osborn was wearing on his arm. After being knocked back a bit, but still able to get up, he groaned. “I know it’s rude to ask someone to give a gift back, but that guy is driving me crazy.” He felt guilty enough that he had unwillingly let the President have a custom made suit-- now it was in their face.

SCOTT: The ringing in his ears was deafening, drowning out all other sound around him. Picking his head up, Scott was careful opening his eyes. At the moment, he couldn’t feel much, especially not if he were still wearing his visor. When the grass tinged red, Scott let his eyes fully open and immediately, the world began to spin. He couldn’t tell where he was in time and space, just that he was still in the field, though he couldn’t tell when, either. Were they still fighting Osborn? There was a weight on his chest and he tried to look down to distinguish it, but when he picked his head up, he got hit by a wave of nausea that flattened him again. Finally, he resigned himself to looking at the red tinged sky and after what felt like centuries, he finally managed to see the tangle of limbs that were spread around him. And that Emma was the weight on his chest. Gripping her shoulder, he said her name though he couldn’t hear it through the muffle in his ears. He just knew she was unresponsive and another weight dipped in his chest. Pushing himself into a sitting position, Scott caught Emma in his arms and looked to find the other mutants who had been taken out by the blast. “Emma come on,” he could finally hear himself say. “We need you.”

NATASHA: There was an unshakable feeling that this was her fault. Even though she was just one piece in the puzzle Natasha thought of Wanda going up in flames and her stomach turned. Natasha had died to save the world and been resurrected to help get her friends murdered. She had been on the sidelines watching Steve and Sam but her body instinctively snapped to fold against Tony’s. She stumbled alongside him before flicking her Widow’s Bites on and pulling her batons from her back. “I feel like common rules of courtesy don’t apply here. I have a lot of things to say and none of them are nice.”

ILLYANA: Being knocked on her ass was never something Illyana enjoyed. Her teeth were bared as she pulled herself to her knees and looked at those around her. “Do I need to move her out of here?” She asked Scott before focusing on Erik, Nate and the others. “I get you close enough and you end this. Can you do that?”

OSBORN: There was always a trick up his sleeve. When the blast knocked everyone back, Norman had a chance to get his glider out. He moved to block Sam's shield, sending it back to him. Carol started shooting at him and he was able to dodge the first few, but as he moved there was shot that landed at the worst angle when he tried to block it. It hit his glider and knocked him straight off of it-- Norman landed with a harsh thud into the grass. He flipped onto his back as Carol got closer, aiming his blaster at her even though his vision was a bit blurred from his impact against the ground.

CAROL: Seeing Norman crash land had Carol reigning her powers in, her body going into a nose dive to reach him faster. Just as she’d anticipated, Osborn fired a blast at her and Carol instinctively fired one back, the clash of energy sending a shockwave in both directions. It immediately knocked her off course and she was back on the ground before she could readjust long enough to stay in the air. But she was close to Osborn. Only a couple of feet away. She walked towards him. “It’s over.” she raised her fist, charging up another blast. “Surrender now.”

RIPLEY: Everything was falling apart. Ripley had kind of expected it but knew she couldn’t stick around. As Carol approached Norman it seemed like a perfect getaway. There was no air kiss goodbye or snide comment. Star just turned and flew away. It wasn’t being a coward. It was waiting for a better opportunity.

LAURA: Her skin was already regrowing from where the blast had burned it off after taking a direct hit to ensure Remy didn’t. As Scott clutched Emma her head hilted to the side, trying to listen to the breathing and heartbeat. “Not dead.”

ILLYANA: “Slap her.” Illyana suggested with a one shouldered shrug. Why were all of their telepaths unable to keep it together? “Think fast, Scott.” She tilted her head towards where the Avengers seemed to have Norman against the rails. “We’re running out of time.”

TONY: “Yeah, alright-- I’m sick of this.” Now was the perfect time-- Carol had Osborn well distracted and well covered, but that blaster on his hand could still do some damage. He shot Nat a quick point before moving over to her. “Here, take this--” He handed her a small gadget, then pointed at Osborn. “Once I get that blaster pointed away from Carol, shoot his tech. That should disable it-- will disable it.” Yeah, it will. It will work. Before waiting for much of a response from Nat, Tony flew a bit closer and shot a blast close to Norm’s head. It caused the President to turn in surprise, moving his repulser away from Carol and giving Nat the window to fire.

ERIK: Erik took the opportunity to use his powers to grab various metal scraps from around the field and the seats and send them over to Norman once his tech was turned off. He bent then around the President’s arms in multiple places and then dug them into the turf, pinning the man in place so he couldn’t get up.

NATASHA: In the day since their mind control had been exposed Natasha and Tony had sat together with heads bowed. It was violating. It was wrong. She ached to fire off a few rounds and stretch her legs at the barre, but instead she had listened to Tony go over the schematics of a machine he had created at a breakneck speed. He had built the latest model of Osborn’s suit and he could take it down. The tiny device was fashioned above the Widow’s Bite on her arm and as Tony and the others got Norman properly subdued Nat began to fire it up. She waited until the moment a signal was given and then there was a buzz and a slight tingling sensation in her arm as it activated. Norman’s suit fell apart then, the lights flickering and dying out. As the machinery locked, Nat looked up to give Tony a nod of affirmation. “Looks like it worked to me.”

OSBORN: Norman had his arm pointed straight up and over at Carol, matching her glowing fist. He was still in a bad position, back flat against the ground. But he could still fire. He debated it. But before he made a decision, a strange shock of energy shot up the arm covered in tech and he felt it grow heavy and lose power. His ears were still ringing with the sound of static as he felt his arms being pinned down. It was a futile attempt, but Norman struggled against it. “Shit.”

SCOTT: Scott gave Illyana a look before refocusing on Emma. “Come on,” his tone was urgent. “You’re really going to let Osborn take you down, come on.” When Emma didn’t stir, he almost had to take Illyana up on her offer, though it wouldn’t have been him. But hey, it was that or a bucket of water, wasn’t it? “You’ve got ten seconds to open your eyes before someone ends up ruining that.” he brushed her hair out of her face, periodically looking put to make sure the Avengers had Osborn occupied. “Or someone ends up breaking your nose again.” it was a light joke — a very, very, light joke.

EMMA: Gods, did her head hurt. Thoughts were pulsing around her in synch with her headache and at Scott’s comment one eye fluttered open and then the other. “I will lobotomize you, Summers.” She rasped out before blinking a few times against the fog. Roused from what would later be diagnosed as a bad concussion, Emma took a second to center herself and look at Scott’s face, hidden by his hood and visor. A plan. They had a plan. Osborn was somehow on the ground and it seemed like Erik had done his part so it was only fitting that Emma would do hers. She was unsteady as she rose to her feet and used Scott for stabilization as she teetered on high heels towards Norman was pinned down. Crouching so that blonde hair nearly brushed his face, Emma resisted the urge to vomit and hoped instead she looked as intimidating and badass as she knew she was. “I hope you realize now that I am a woman of my word who holds true to her promise. Enjoy your new normal, Normie.” One finger tapped against his forehead then, a telepathic blast obliterating all clear thought. She wouldn’t kill him. He was a proud man, someone too full of himself. Even Emma thought that and she loved her reflection like Narcissus did his. This little mental prison would be agony for one like him. Her own head throbbed but as his eyes glazed over and his mouth went slack Emma had a moment of satisfaction before she tumbled backwards out of her crouch. “I win.”

SCOTT: Scott was there, supporting her at a distance while she worked on Norman. He could tell that she’d been just as rattled by that blast as he, except now she was using her abilities and that would just further drain her. When she was done with him, Scott caught her against him and eased them back, away from the Avengers that were circling. “You did enough.” he said, a hidden thank you underneath. “It’s time to go home.” Home, whatever that meant for them.

ILLYANA: “I hope he likes wearing diapers.” Illyana snorted as Emma finished. She waited until Scott had the telepath in his arms before she moved forward and raised her sword. “Home is anywhere but here.” Her hair was getting frizzy and her shorts were sticking. Russia lacked humidity, thankfully, and even though Illyana had bounced from there to hell to the states she refused to acknowledge this climate as her own. “Yes, you won. You can put your tits away now.” The words were said with love but coupled with an eye roll. As her portal lit up Illyana, Scott, Emma and the few other mutants in the vicinity vanished from view.

SAM: They had gotten there. It was decidedly a rocky path but Sam reminded himself to be happy about the end goal. Osborn was no longer an immediate threat and somehow - surprisingly - he hadn’t been murdered. They had done it the right way. One day they could try and reverse Emma’s work so he could stand trial but in that moment Sam was content with shifting some of the metal bindings Magneto had fastened and hauling Osborn upright even though he immediately slumped over. Glancing over at Erik, Sam tipped his head in thanks. “Tell Emma we appreciate it. We appreciate all of you. We couldn’t have done this if we weren’t working together. And about your people... we’ll have everyone look for Hope and Eva. Wanda’s --- she’s a friend.” Teammate. Had been for years. “I’m takin’ him to the Raft. You need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

ERIK: Erik stopped a few paces back as Sam gathered Osborn. He was tense as he watched, still slightly hung up on the fact that the now former President was still alive and Erik allowed him to be. But Emma's words had gotten to him. Perhaps being around people like the Avengers had started to get to him as well. Or maybe it was starting to grow closer to his daughters, then watching them die. Whatever it was, it made him feel strange. But when he offered a thankful nod to Sam in return, he felt oddly proud that a conversation between the two of them could happen. Things were different. But that was good. "Thank you." His words were soft but sincere. "And I will, once she's in her right mind again." Then he turned to gather and leave with the rest of the mutants.

SAM: There wasn’t much left to say. Calling H.A.M.M.E.R. agents wasn’t an option but there were still some good S.H.I.E.L.D. agents he had on speed dial. They arrived shortly after Magneto left, tying Osborn down before carting him off even though he was obviously incapacitated. As his vacant twisted face rolled out of view Sam tried to shrug off the image of the green. They still had a lot to do. C.R.A.D.L.E. needed to be instantly dismantled and H.A.M.M.E.R. wiped out. There was also the issue of the murdered mutants. But when Sam tried to think about it all his head spun. He needed war and rest. More rest than his five hours he was getting. Once the agents began to clear the field Sam lifted up in the air with the weight of the shield on his back along with the stress of what was to come.

#event: dark reign #dark reign: end of the reign #chatlog: end of the reign #momevents

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perplexinglyparadoxialperson · 4 years

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Steve’s Shield

This is part of a series I’m writing on AO3, and a transcription of a YouTube video in the marvel universe, so if it doesn’t make sense, please tell me! The first part is the video, and the second part is the authors note I wrote. I didn’t have the patience to write this whole thing over again without the story aspect, when this explains things just fine. Find me on AO3 at PerplexinglyParadoxialPerson

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Brian clicked the video on his YouTube feed, titled, ‘Captain America’s shield and the science behind it’, it’s thumbnail being a close up picture of the shield.

The video started with a woman with long brown hair in a ponytail against a blue background, talking. “Captain America, sentinel of liberty, hero of the free world, recent saviour of New York, and... the owner of the most famous shield in history.”

The screen faded out, replaced with a blue room with two chairs, one of them seating the brown haired woman, and Captain America in the other seat.

“Today we’re being joined by the man himself” she said. “Welcome to the show Captain America!”

“It’s my pleasure” he said, shaking her hand “but please call me Steve.”

“Now we’ve been watching some of the videos from the battle of New York,” she said. “And I think we’re all curious about that shield. It’s properties are like no metal we’ve ever seen, reflecting energy blasts from a lightning generating hammer, and bouncing off walls like a ping pong ball! What is this shield made of?”

“It’s kind of complicated” he said. “And most of the information I do know about it, is from what I’ve found out in the field, or from half understood rambling science talk from Howard Stark. Don’t expect a clear or completely accurate explanation!”

“That’s perfectly understandable Steve,” she said. “Most of what science is in the first place is observing, and making educated guesses. You definitely know more than us, that’s for sure!”

“All right” he said. “The shield is made of what Howard called vibranium, which absorbs vibrations.”

“But if it absorbs vibrations,” the host said curiously, “then it wouldn’t be able to bounce off walls, it would hit one wall and drop to the floor.”

“I know,” Captain America said. “I was confused too, but apparently that is only a property of pure vibranium. See, vibranium is a very rare metal, and very expensive. Howard used up all that he could scrounge when he made the shield, so parts of it are made of an alloy of vibranium and an unknown metal. He had found out before making the shield that when vibranium is alloyed with another metal, it reacts completely oppositely than when it’s pure.

You see the different sections on the shield? Their the reason that it’s painted in rings. Each section has a different direction of reflection, the circle in the centre is pure vibranium and only absorbs vibrations, for example, if you shot a bullet into the centre the bullet would drop to the floor, flattened. The rings are easiest to see as a child’s drawing of a sun. The reflection angle of the inner red ring is about 22.5 degrees, the white circle is 22.5 degrees off of that, and the outer red circle is 22.5 degrees of from that. The rim of the shield is of course 90 degrees, which means that it easily bounces off walls, and conserves momentum really well.”

“How did you get this shield Steve,” she asked. “It seems like an item like that would be expensive!”

“Howard gave it to me” Captain America said. “When I was on the USO circuit, selling war bonds, I had a steel shield, brought it with me when I rescued the prisoners from Azzano, and well, Howard was a bit of a showboat. When I got back, he designed a whole bunch of shields for me, and I chose this one.”

“That’s quite the story!” The host said, “now I have a totally hypothetical question for you, do you think that you would have been able to use the shield before you got the serum?”

“That’s quite the question,” Captain America said. “First of all, most people seem to think that the shield is heavy, but it’s actually pretty light. Pure vibranium is about a third of the weight of steel, so I definitely would have been able to lift it before the serum. Do you want to hold it to see?”

“Of course,” she said, grabbing the shield. “Wow that is really light! But back to the topic at hand, you may have been able to lift it back then, but could you have used it?”

“Definitely not,” he said. “For one it takes a decent amount of strength to be able to throw it accurately, not super strength, but quite a bit nonetheless. Another reason I wouldn’t have been able to, is because throwing the shield accurately, with multiple bounces, needs a lot of quick thinking, calculating angles, and figuring out possible areas to rebound it off of to get to as many targets as possible, etc. The serum enhanced the speed, and memory retention of my brain, so the calculations I need to make are a lot easier and faster to do. I can also bring up memories of previous throws, to use in similar situations. I was pretty good at geometry before the serum, I wasn’t usually good at most math and science, that was Bucky’s job, but geometry just clicked for me. I had always been good at pool too.”

“So you just extrapolated on those skills?” She asked.

“Yeah” he said “but catching it is a challenge as well, I broke a couple of fingers the first time I caught it, I was sure was lucky to have enhanced healing! I did get used to it eventually, but no one I’ve met has been able to catch it, I did try to teach the Howlies in the beginning, but it never worked. I did make sure that they could all throw it back to me though, just in case I made a mistake on a throw.

“That’s one of the big advantages of a unique weapon though, if you lose it, you aren’t giving the enemy a weapon as well.”

“Can you elaborate on that Steve,” the host asked.

“Of course” he replied. “For example, for the most part guns are just point and shoot, and knives are quite common, and pretty simple as well. If you drop one of those, chances are that your enemy can use them as well, and you both lose a weapon, and give the enemy one. But with unique weapons, like Hawkeyes bow for example, not only is the draw weight immense for those who haven’t trained for it, but if you don’t know how to use it, it’s nearly impossible to hit what your aiming at. It’s the same with the shield, while they can use the shield as a shield, they usually can’t use it for anything offensive.”

“That’s fascinating,” she said. “But why don’t we experiment with it a bit, I would love to see it in action in person!”

The next scene opened in a large concrete room, with a few concrete supports, Captain America and the woman standing in the middle.

“Fair warning,” Captain America said. “There is a large possibility that the shield will damage the supports and the walls in this room. If you don’t want any damage, please stop me before I start throwing the shield around.”

“It’s fine” she said. “This room is a worthy sacrifice for seeing this in person.”

“If your sure,” Captain America said.

The rest of the video was a long series of experimental ricocheting. Trying to get as many ricochets as possible, hitting specific targets, and using BB guns to test the reflection angles. It was fascinating, seeing increasingly elaborate chains of rebounds, almost all of them hitting their targets, and not one of them coming close to hitting the host.

The video ended with the host and Captain America standing in the middle of the now slightly battered room.

The host said, “this has been Captain America, showing us the shield and the science behind it. Thanks for the assist, and have a great day!”

“I will” Captain America said.

The host turned to the camera and said, “please like and subscribe, and see you all next time!”

The video ended, the screen going black.

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This is my explanation for the shields properties and the inconsistencies in them. So when I decided that I wanted to do this, I looked up the properties of vibranium on a wiki, and there are several immense inconsistencies, it’s like whoever came up with the shield just put whatever qualities that they wanted in it without any regard to logic and science! I am not very good with physics though, so if I made any unreasonable assumptions please let me know so that I can fix it!

For one, if it absorbs vibrations, it wouldn’t be able to bounce off walls, or reflect the energy of Thor’s hammer, like what happened in the Avengers movie, so I had to come up with a semi plausible reason for it to work like that, so I added in the alloy idea. Apparently in the comics, the shield is a combination of vibranium and adamantium, so I used the idea. However, this still doesn’t make much sense, because if you make an alloy out of, for example a good conductor and a bad conductor, the alloy will be somewhere in between, not a non-conductor, but... I needed some explanation!

I also needed the middle to be able to absorb vibrations, because in the First Avenger, when Peggy shoots the middle of the shield, the bullets flatten and drop to the floor, like they should. Also if it bounced like that, conserving almost all momentum, then nothing should be damaged by it, the reason is that, for example, when an axe damages a tree, is because it’s momentum is transferred to the tree, and it gets stuck in the wood. If an axe bounces of a tree, usually there is minimal damage to the tree, so by all logic the shield shouldn’t damage anything.

Note: for the bit where he said that none of the Howlies could catch it, including Bucky, but he could catch it as the Winter Soldier is because I think catching the shield requires the technique of you bouncing it off your hand, then grabbing it. With my theory that the attributes of the serum appeared in Bucky over a period of time, at the beginning of the war, he wouldn’t have been able to catch it. However, with serum enhanced reflexes and strength, he would be able to catch it as the winter soldier, and near the end of the war, he would have been able to catch it, but he believed he couldn’t, so he didn’t try. Steve didn’t mention the technique for catching it just in case an enemy saw it and used it to learn to catch it.

In short, as a very logical person, and scientist, this was frustrating, and I decided to make this so that other people could have a better idea of what the shield can and cannot do, and the reasons for it, to make fics better.

This is a diagram of the reflection angles of the shield.

#steve rogers #captain america’s shield #the shield #vibranium #marvel cinematic universe #science #theory

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