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joannasteez · 3 years

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𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: EZ Reyes x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Mature Themes.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.7k

Credits to who made the gif @angelreyesgirl

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @brownsugarcoffy @elektriknachosss @queenbeered

Let me know if you’d like a tag!!!

✞

Your annoyance was simmering, daring to merge into the depths of some irreversible state of agitation. The engine of the classic Dodge Charger RT in your possession had, with incredibly poor timing, began to knock. The unsavory noise resonating into the thick air of the street, stilled heat of the day pushing back the regular ebb and flow of the Santo Padre streets to make way for the obnoxious sound of your engine. Your head was spinning, dazed by the bitter humidity and a steady brew of fear trembling in your fingers to dance just under the surface of your skin. The classic car was given by your father, who'd gotten it from his father, the mass of glistening matte black metal of significant value. If the engine failed, you'd be reduced to tears, wading in the dread of some existential crisis.

Your grandfather had had this car for twenty years, the imprint of his essence etched into the leather seats, and when he became grey and withered, he relinquished it to your father for another fifteen years, till finally, it was yours.

You pulled over just as the last knock sounded, the tremble in your fingers worsening. Your eyes welled, sure to leave a soft red glassiness. The need for air consumed you, the space to walk freely about, a puff of smoke or two maybe.

The pavement was hard under your feet, slam of the door accented by vexation. You picked behind your ear, that nicely rolled spliff safely kept and waiting to be lit. The lighter in your front pocket an easy grab, the flicker of orange a short friendly blaze as it singed the paper. The pull you took was slow, measured, as if to savor this minuscule moment of stillness that lived among others not so still. Not so peaceful. With release, you blew into the air, dried eyes taking in the vast blue of the sky. The never ending expansion blurring your vision as your mind sifted through slim courses of action. If you could just get the car to your garage, then you could figure the battery out on your own, saving time you didn’t have on a mechanics trips you couldn’t afford. All you needed was a—

"Need a boost?"

"Yes". The answer was so quick, it nearly gave you whiplash. The tension in your bones dissipating as you got rid of the sizzling flame around your spliff.

The stranger spun his car from its position just beside yours, the hood of it now facing yours head on before he turned it off and got out.

"Thanks so much for this".

"No problem. It's a nice ride you got, don't really see too many classics rolling around Santo Padre much", he said, eyeing the shine of the paint job. His fingers skimming the hood before he lifted it. "Where'd you get it?"

You step closer to him, a grin stretching your lips at his admiration. The RT was your pride and joy, the height of your ego bursting through to rise above some invisible ceiling whenever folks gave it compliments and stares of approval. "My dad had it for a while, gave it to me when he couldn't keep up with it anymore".

With a nod, he retrieved the cables from his trunk, the wide stretch of his back shifting just under the white fabric of his t-shirt to reveal the curve and ripple of muscles. They traveled down his arms, the bulge of them mixing with defined veins that ran across thick powerful looking fingers. He stretched one of those hands out toward you.

"Ezekiel Reyes".

You considered his hand for a moment, slipping it into your own as your eyes racked him with all the subtlety you could muster. It mustn't have been enough because that innocent friendly smile he gave you had turned into something more knowing. He knew you were checking him out but he didn't mind much. "Y/N".

His thumb skimmed the back of your hand just before letting go, turning his attention to attaching the cables to both cars properly. You minded his movements with the cables closely, triple checking the order in which he connected them with a hawks eye, a concentrated intensity that your dear old Charger RT deserved. Abruptly then, like the quickness of a blink or some single strike of lightning, a thought came to you. "Wait, not Reyes as in Carniceria Reyes?"

"Yeah it's my pops shop",

"Felipe's a real sweet guy. It's not everyday you can look through a deep book collection while the butcher cuts up your dinner". You paused, giving the beauty of his face another glance. "He should've warned me though, never told me both his sons were so handsome".

"You met Angel", he stated, a low dip in his tone. Was it disappointment?

"A couple of weeks ago. He was passing through when I stopped by to pick up somethings. He's a real charmer your brother, but I wouldn't worry. I don't think he's messed up your chances just yet", you flirted.

The assurance produced from him a toothy grin. "I'm not worried".

Silence took ahold of you then, anticipation of the moment charging the pressure in your chest to fall straight to your gut. ‘Please work' you whispered while swinging the door wide to slide into the warm leather of the drivers seat. With the key in the ignition, you twisted your wrist forward, a huff of relief puffing from your chest when the engine roars to life. You close the door quick, that relief bubbling under your skin, your head sticking out the window.

"Thanks again Reyes".

He stepped to the window, those warm endearing eyes taking in the summer glow of your face. His tongue slipped just over the plump flesh of his bottom lip. It was a rosy color, the curving dip of it enticing. He liked the way you said his last name.

"It's no problem".

You put your RT in reverse, backing away from his broad body. "See you around?"

"Maybe", he called.

You speed off, the rev of the engine blending into the ebb and flow of the town once again. Existence dipping into the horizon.

✞✞✞✞✞

You'd saw him again at some hole in the wall you frequented at. The smooth slow tempo of some classic 70s song strumming through the stereo to seep into your ears richly like fresh honey. The atmosphere was subdued, the short clinks of beer bottles and incomprehensible murmurs of frivolous conversations sating the air. It was the perfect place to think, to allow your mind to wander directionless through the never ending abyss of happenings and circumstances that had presented themselves down through the week. You made idle chitchat with the bartender about a laundry list of things of no particular significance, small smiles and light chuckles ringing from you both every now and then.

The night was going good, till you felt a creeping touch just at the low end of your back.

"Let me buy you a drink". The voice was rusted, withered by too much tobacco.

You held up the beer in your hand. "I've got already, I'm good".

This guy was tipsy, blood red creeping into his eyes, body swaying just the slightest bit. "Don't be like that, let me buy you another".

"I said I'm good", you asserted. The coolness of the bottle creating a tingling sensation in your hand. You'd crack it over his head if he touched you again.

"Sorry I'm late, everything alright?", another voice asked, but this one you knew. That deeply textured tone wrapping sweetly around your senses. You tore your irritated gaze set on the almost-drunk guy, softening it as you took Ezekiel in. He looked slightly different, refreshed it seemed, or maybe it was just his barbered hair. A Mayans kutte rested over him, comfortable like a second layer of skin, the black leather accentuating the swell of his muscles. You'd have to figure out later why your eyes diverted to them so often, they were becoming a hindrance to your thinking.

"Everything's good now", you played. Giving him a light peck to the cheek to sell the story. His arm wrapped around you in what appeared to be some reflexive reaction, all natural like he'd done it countless times before. When he realized Ezekiel wasn't leaving, the guy swayed away in true tipsy fashion. Mumbling incoherent things with a griped attitude. Ezekiel took his chair, the proximity of it in regards to yours making the point of his knee knock and slide the smooth plain of your jeans. You watched him take a glance over the bar before he called for a beer.

"Thanks for that".

"No problem", the corner of his lip turning up. "Seems like you've been needing my help a lot lately".

"Don't flatter yourself Reyes, this is just a coincidence".

"Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

Your face screwed up in a show of confusion, but you could guess quickly the reason for the question. "Any reason why you're at a bar alone?"

He sipped at his beer. "Outside gets loud sometimes y'know, hectic. It's quiet in here. Good place to think".

"Exactly".

"A little unsafe for you though no?" And there it was.

"Everywhere's unsafe for me Ezekiel, I'm a woman. I mean I couldn't guarantee safety in my own home if I wanted to, but that's just how the world works". You paused, mischief rising in your face. "Don't worry though, I've got a little surprise for anyone who wants to test their luck".

"Oh really".

"Yeah, you men are dangerous out here. I gotta be prepared always".

His brows furrowed. "That's a bit of a big generalization to make".

"But if it's true it's true. Name one thing a man doesn't get dangerous about. Doesn't even have to be rejection", you say, turning to fully face him.

He considers the question for a moment, staring into the color of your eyes as if he'd find the answer in them. "Love".

"A man who loves, whose in love, would do any and everything, no matter how mad the shit is. He'd risk lives, his life even. If that's not dangerous then I don't know what is".

A speck of something lit in the hazel of his eyes. As if your words had brought to the present some memory buried deep within the grave of his soul. What you said hit rather close, closer than expected. "Who is she?"

"Doesn't matter, it's in the past".

"Humor me".

His jaw ticked before he spoke. "Her names Emily, but that shits all just history now. Doesn't matter". He turned the focus from himself. "What about you. Whose going all reckless about you".

"Who says he exist"

"You just did, I never specified who in particular".

So much for playing dumb. "His name is Jason".

"Sounds like an asshole".

You snort, the teasing of a headache coming as you thought on the insufferable man that was Jason. "He is. He's got that weird alpha male thing about him. Has to be in control of everything, doesn't know when to leave well enough alone".

The muted energy of the bar rose between the two of you, each taking quiet sips of your beer. You took notice of the way he surveyed the room from where he sat. That golden gaze sifting through the space and over bodies with quick ease. He was assessing, the gears in his head turning, calculating and considering every and all the possibilities of danger. It reminded you of someone.

"How long were you in for?", you ask.

"How'd you know?"

"You've been on the defensive since you sat down, lookin’ everywhere like someone's gonna up and shank you for no reason. My cousin was the same way when he got out, always looking over his shoulder". You shrugged. "Grew out of it eventually.

His eyes were a bit sullen, as if the truth would scare you. "Eight years".

"He was in for fifteen, and that prison shit is unbelievable, I mean the stories he's told me are crazy". You laugh suddenly at a memory, the resonance of it making him smile in admiration of the sound. "He did this thing for a while when he got home where he'd only have one knife, one fork and one spoon in his kitchen and I swear it was the funniest shit".

The smile falters, his body shifting awkwardly in the bar stool, embarrassed.

"Oh my God Reyes don't tell me you've been doing the same thing".

"In my defense I live alone".

"But what if you have a special guest over, you'd be a sorry ass host", you tease.

"If you wanted to have dinner with me then just say that".

You force away the heat daring to rise in your cheeks. "We have to take a trip to home goods before I even consider a dinner with you”.

You both give hearty laughs, till the vibration in your pocket pulls your focus. With a quick slip of your phone, you realize how fast time had gone on. “Shit I gotta go, but it was real nice seeing you again Ezekiel".

"It was good seeing you too".

You press your hand against his patch, laying a sweet lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Make it home in one piece for me yeah".

"I have to. You might need me again".

"I'm counting on it".

✞✞✞✞✞

You were a joke it seemed, the universe and fate in a gaming mood, as they were using you as a source for their own amusement. Commissioning their faithful associate to do the heavy lifting of masking their scents. The two of you were at the right place, at the right time again, what a damn coincidence. Before the present week, you'd never even seen Ezekiel's face, just learning of his existence a week or so before that, and now you'd seen him twice in a matter of days. This night being the third.

He was surrounded by men who donned the same kutte as him, curious eyes swimming through the sea of bodies as they did in every other setting, till they met yours. He came to you without a second thought, eyeing the tight leather of your pants and how they clung to your thighs. The cropped cut of your vintage top revealing skin he longed to touch. Since the first time he saw you his mind raced with thoughts of your voice, visions of your lips touching his skin again, plaguing his body with the desire to have you.

You stepped away from your group of friends, meeting him half way. "You're just stalking me at this point. Not that I mind".

He clutched the openings of his kutte, that signature grin lighting his face, even with the casting over of the nights darkness. "Something told me I'd see you again. How's your RT?"

"Good, resting in my garage. I've been kinda scary about replacing the battery".

"Why?"

"I'm good with cars don't get me wrong, but something about fucking it up just makes me sick. It's a lot of history behind that car. I don't wanna destroy it".

"Understandable", he nodded. Noting the caution behind your words, the way you spoke with such passion and care about the thing you loved. It was endearing.

The heavy crunch of gravel and sand tore through the beginnings of some silent stare, an undeniable enticement brewing. It was Angel.

"I see you met this asshole already", the older Reyes said.

"I'm not an asshole Angel, just 'cause I turned you down".

He sent a smirk your way. "You didn't turn me down, we made a mutual decision that you couldn't handle me remember?"

"Right. That's exactly how it went".

A call sounded through the dewy air of the night, signifying the start of a race. You started toward a cherry red car.

"That's me", you said. In regards to the call.

Ezekiel was confused, intrigued. "You racing?"

"Yeah, the mustang", you called, strutting over to your 1970's Mustang, adding the slightest dip to your hips. Giving the brothers something to admire, before dropping low into the leather seats.

With a quick twist, the mustang roared to life, the rumble tearing through the air, growling like a fierce rolling thunder through hazy storm clouds. Another car pulled up on your right, the blue electric color of it dazzling, clashing against the fine cherry red of your own to deliver a sweet contrast for the eyes that watched on in excitement. A woman, with a dangled bandana in her hand, set herself between your car and the other, whistles of admiration thrown her way as she gave the summer evening crowd an alluring smile. At the point of her finger you revved your engine, adrenaline pumping through your veins, rushing from your chest to pulse under your skin. The leather feel of the steering wheel was smooth, the grip you held to it steady. With the downward pull of her hands she set both cars to race and you pulled your mustang swift into the night.

The road before you was a muddled darkness, the outward spreading glow of your headlights stabbing it and tearing it apart as your wheels took a glide against the smooth road. At the mark line, you shifted your car into reverse, whipping left, back into drive, soaring back down the road to where the crowd watched and waited. Their rigid bodies of anticipation lit by your headlights, bellowing screams waning under the busting sound of your revving engine. Your mustang tore through the finishing mark, the tingle of victory surging through you.

Pulling back up to the crowd, you rolled your window down, a slim roll of hundreds placed in your hand by the guy who’d set the race up. You showed up to win and now you were done.

Ezekiel and Angel were a little ways away from your car, your voice carrying over to them. "A little party at my place. You and your guys are cool to come".

They both nodded, heading to their bikes when Angel answered after you. "We'll follow you".

Ezekiel swung his leg, resting on the seat of his bike as he buckled the helmet over his head, his fingers gripping the ape hangers, feeling the vibration of the engine as he followed the sleek vibrant red of your car. The afternoon he met you, he'd been turmoiled, plagued with the natural uncertainties that came with being a member of the MC. That new patch stitched into the upper corner of his kutte had bought a sense of pride and belonging he hadn't felt in forever, it gave him drive, fueled his determination, but as the saying goes, all that glitters is not good. Expectation deceived him, the reality of all things made clear. And that reality was shoveling makeshift graves for men whose names he couldn't even remember, but he remembered yours. Committed himself to it like the loving kiss he gave to the jar that held the remnants of his mother every time he stepped a foot into his fathers house.

He found you flustered, out of yourself with anxiety in the dimming light of the afternoon, and then at the bar, body rigid, eyes wired and ready to do your worst to a guy who could barely keep his posture straight, and now he was following behind you, backing his bike toward the sidewalk that laid just in front your home.

Upon entry, the knock of the speakers bled a thumping bass that pulsated through the floors. Your home had seemed to expand with every new corner that came into view, the walls pushing back to make room for the swell and scatter of bodies. Sweet smells mixed with more pungent ones, the hazy aroma of weed slipping past him as he walked further into the house. A hand placed itself at his side. It was you.

"Can I get you a drink? A beer or something".

"Yeah a beer is cool".

You intertwined your fingers with his, leading him to the kitchen where the sound settled some. Beer bottles clinked, the air releasing as you opened them, handing one over to him.

He gave a quiet "thanks" before sipping, eyeing the way your lips wrapped around the top of the bottle to taste the liquid. They looked soft, full and alluring. He redirected his gaze before the temptation overtook him to do something impulsive that had the prospect of unnerving you. His eyes flitted to the side of your face, an illustration about two inches or so etched into your skin. He hadn't noticed it till now.

You could feel him staring as you tasted the beer, the heat of it tingling your skin. "It's a dagger".

He reached forward, thumb skimming over the finely crafted design, it was a professionals work. With the simple touch of his thumb, your nerves were riling, heat rushing to pulse under your skin, he could feel it. It drew him closer, lured him in. "Did it hurt?".

"Like hell, but when you've felt more painful shit, tattoos like this don't really compare". You lifted the hem of your top some, bringing his fingers to feel the raised skin there. Four inches or so worth of a healed gash rested under his considerate touch. "Got it when I spent a year and a half inside. Grand theft", you admitted.

The reasoning behind telling him wasn't sound in the slightest bit, but what was reasoning when Ezekiel had awakened such dormant feelings inside you. With those beautiful, sunny colored eyes and the warm hand caressing your side, you were liable to tell everything. Truths you hated and dark secrets that laid deep inside your past. You reached up to lay a kiss to those pouty lips, the feel of them mesmeric, dazing. Fulfillment burdened itself onto you, finally you'd got a taste of that rosy pink bottom lip, and now your body was calling for more. Begging for it with such longing that you licked your way through his mouth, his tongue acting in kind. It was slow and all consuming, his body pressing you into the counter to surround you.

"Come with me", your voice airy. Breathless. You lead him to the back of the house. Your room first on the right. A gasp left you when your feet left the floor, body in his arms as he laid you against the fresh feel of the sheets. You kicked your shoes off with ease but the discarding of other pieces left behind a sinking feeling, a pressure forming in your chest to push down straight into your gut. He was glorious, the plains of his skin bound by rich thick tanned muscles and long veins. The dilation of his pupils darkened the air around him, physique imposing. This is what you’d wanted, Why were you feeling so anxious all of a sudden?

"What's wrong?"

Your body had raced miles ahead of your mind and now you were trying to catch up. "I don't know, I just... I feel..."

"Nervous".

"It's sounds so stupid when you say it out loud".

"But it's not, It's natural, and I'll do whatever you want me to do. Whatever makes you feel comfortable baby".

He sounded so sure of it, it made you believe him. You laid against the pillows, beckoning him with the outstretch of your fingers. "C'mere".

He obeyed, body atop yours, your legs wrapping loosely around his waist as your head tilted up to give those lips another kiss. It was messy this time, fueled by desperation, your tongues slow to lick as they tasted each other's. The remnants of beer still there. He took hold of your lip, sharp teeth pulling before he kissed his way down to the heated flesh of your neck. There he sucked, bombarding your skin with pressure causing your hips to grind against the coarse fabric of his jeans. The thin cotton layer of your underwear leaving you to erupt with a fresh wave of need. He feathered kisses down your body, pushing your legs up and apart to open yourself for him. A shudder drove down your spine, that soft wide tongue of his licking so close to where you needed him. He peeled away your underwear leaving you bare before him.

"Talk to me baby. What do you need".

You could hear the pulse of your heart in your ears. "Take care of me Ezekiel, make me feel good".

He hummed, loving the airiness of your voice. So drenched with need for him you were. He was methodical despite the desire boiling in his blood threatening to burn through his skin, so he'd settled with toying with you for now. Giving that sweet glistening clit teasing licks. They were measured, the constraint of them existing solely to wreck you, to kill your resolve completely till you were reduced to in-apprehensible words filled with air. The wide-ness of his tongue felt so good, your nails running over the faded part of his head as your hips drew tight circles.

The teasing, the game of it all. He didn't know but you loved it so much. "That feels so good baby, so good", you praised.

Your words were disembodied, wandering in another plain of existence as they rolled off your lips. Your senses were bursting at the seems, and then reborn again to erupt on impact when he sucked against your sensitive nub, lapping your slick salaciously. As if he'd been starved for years, only just finding you now. The line of your spine arched, waist swiveling, grinding to meet his wet tongue. A low "fuck" fell in the air as your felt the rise of your impending release. With taut, rough fingers he hooked at the back of your knees, pushing them into the sheets. The action opened you completely to him, no choice but to surrender to his will and the feel of his lips as he drew you closer to the edge.

"Please, I'm so close", you whimpered. Vision splotchy, thump in your ears intensifying.

He sucked at you again, holding his lips still as your body shook. Quivering against the sheets. He reverted back to soft licks, tasting as you rode the high.

He rose when you settled, eyeing the heavy rise and fall of your chest as he did away with his jeans. "You Ok?"

It took you time to register the question but when you did, you threw a pillow at him. "You just sucked the soul out of me, don't ask me that damn question".

He laughed, watching your eyes dim in bliss. You hadn't noticed, but he'd done away with his underwear as well, the weight of him causing the bed to dip as he came up to where you laid. His thick fingers rolled you over, setting your face to rest against the pillows as your hips raised in the air to rest against the hot flesh of his length, the veined skin laying along your slit. You moaned in anticipation, pushing back against him.

He gripped your cheeks, spreading them to see the quivering flesh of your opening, the flushed pink shinning in the dim light of the room. His tongue slipped against his bottom lip again, reveling in the taste of you as he pushed in. He groaned, and you gave a single fleeting "yes" , the thickness of him giving a delicious stretch, rigid length hot as he pushed and pulled in and out of your depths in a slow manner. Wanting to test the waters same as he did moments ago before building you back up again. The squeeze of you made his chest tight, head swimming with delirium.

"You feel so good mama, so tight around me", he groaned.

His thrust were dizzying as they picked up to set a steady pace, your hips rolling and pushing to take him deeper. To reach that place in you that would force your vision to blur and be replaced by disfigured stars. You reach to lay a finger at your overstimulated bundle of nerves, rubbing the soft slick flesh with lazy pleasuring circles that spurred the knot in your gut to grow. A single tear fell to dampen the pillow, your depths tightening at how full you felt, at how unrelenting the stimulation of his strokes were.

The sharp drive of his hips made you go rigid, the vice like grip you formed around him causing him to fall into his own high. Pace going all slow sloppy to ride out the blissful feeling.

He pulled from you, both your body and his collapsing against the bed. His face formed with satisfaction, a beautiful buzz running through him. "You know what this means right?"

"What", you asked.

"We’ll have to see each other around more often now".

#ezekiel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #mayans mc #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes imagine #ezekiel reyes imagine #joannasteez

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

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Part 24: Appearance

Erik shuffled down the aisle of the train car, crutch nudged snuggly into his armpit and a suitcase half his size rolling behind with a heavy looking duffel. No one offered assistance and he didn't ask. As a black man, he could always count on that as a consistency. Crutches and all, he'd be viewed as overly capable. From a young age it was ingrained through experience.. all you have is yourself because no one out here will help you, a young black man. Time had proven it again and again. Injured, he could still handle more weight than the average man and it was because he pushed himself. He relied only on himself. Even hospitalized, he found ways to maintain his strength. Weakness and laziness was never an option, not even for recovery. With all his money, that was still something he couldn't afford. But they could.. the white couple on the left. He couldn't help but notice them sitting there.

A closer look told him they weren't actually a couple. The blonde girl's face screamed underage. Fifteen/sixteen. The heavy makeup she wore aged her. She looked high. Heroin, Erik guessed glancing subtly for track marks. She looked up and he glanced away to a Spanish speaking family with five kids including a crying baby. He bit his lip on his way to take his seat at the rear where he could see everyone. The man in front of him was on his way to sleep. Erik put in his earbuds and continued his watch.

As the hours passed, he noticed more and more. The kids had no home training. The parents had no sense of awareness considering they sat opposite a fifteen year old girl being held against her will. It could easily be one of their kids, with them not paying attention it wouldn't take much. The baby had the healthiest lungs of any baby he'd ever heard. That blonde girl was high as hell. She got up to use the bathroom on his side of the train and he kept his eyes down as she passed with her trafficker on her ass to make sure she ain't try nothing risky. Ain't none of my black ass business, Erik told himself. He hadn't signed up to save any little blonde girls. He kept his eyes down as they passed him again to return to their seats and she dropped a tiny earring on the floor next to his foot on purpose. Damn, he groaned dropping his head on the back of the seat. Why me? I just said I ain't wanna get involved in this shit.

Taking a deep sigh, he picked up the earring and did what made sense. He googled the train police department and texted in a report using his sub contact phone, the main phone. He gave a description of the couple and information regarding the train. You're welcome, he thought watching the back of the girl's head before settling back in his seat comfortably. Any other time he'd have ignored her, not that victims often reached out to him so clearly. Still, it was an unnecessary risk calling on police. What if they decided to search the train? The whole point of taking the train was to not be searched.

Y/N would be proud right now, his lip twisted in irritation. She'd become the true north of his moral compass. What would Y/N do in the situation? The thought made him nauseous. She wouldn't survive his lifestyle. He wouldn't survive it with her morals. This is dangerous. We are completely incompatible, but I still want you, he admitted to himself. It was more like need. Obsession even. There was a burning feeling in his gut. "This shit ain't healthy," he muttered.

-----

"Wow, may I..," Tanner's fingers hover in the air, his eyes on your fresh braids. Your eyebrows answer before you can and he lowers his hand with a smile. "Those braids are really something. Would it be offensive if I asked how they're attached?" He looks so fascinated. He's been staring and talking to the top of your head since he saw you this morning in the lobby and now he's staring just as hard from across the small booth table at Pho Station.

"You just buy braiding hair and braid it into your hair. That's literally it."

"Braiding hair.. what's that?" His head rests on his hand as his elbow sits on the table. He's so curious, staring dreamily.

"It's packs of hair you get at the store specifically for braided styles." You slurp in a spoonful of long noodles.

"Is it human hair?"

"Synthetic." It comes out muffled as you break off the noodles hanging from your mouth with a chopstick so you can swallow.

"Synthetic? What's the difference..," his blue eyes drift lazily down to your nearly black ones. "Well, I mean in how they look."

"Human hair is typically Malaysian or Brazillian, something like that. You can straighten or curl it because it's actual hair. Synthetic fibers can melt but it's inexpensive and can mimic hair textures well."

"Well it's beautiful," he nods. "I've always wondered about it. Does it hurt?"

"Mm-mm," you grumble slurping the broth of your chicken pho. "No these are knotless and they don't hurt." That confuses him so you get into the difference between regular box braids and knotless. "You can't even sleep when you first get regular box braids because it's so tight that's why I don't wear them."

"Yes.. don't wear them if they hurt. Don't wanna pull out all that beautiful hair.." His eyes hold a familiar twinkle. The way he stares.. it reminds you of Erik. You don't wanna think about the meaning of it.

"Damn right.. Hey your pho's gonna get cold."

"Oh," his brows raise in faux offense. He picks up his soup spoon looking away for the first time. It's about time. "Well these.. knotless braids," he gestures with the spoon, "They look amazing on you," he smirks. "But you're already gorgeous, you know that."

"This from a Gene Kelly/James Dean lookalike. You look like you belong in a Marvel movie. That dark hair.. chiseled jaw? And who do you get those eyes from?"

"My grandma. My mom's eyes are carmel brown and so are my sister's. My father's are a darker brown."

"Punnet square kicked in hard."

"So tell me where your features come from," his eyes twinkle, hands folded under his strong chin. Your heart nearly skips a beat. It took a while for you to admit it to yourself because you'd have to admit you were lowkey using him.. but you knew what he was doing and how he felt from the start. That look was infatuation.

Opening doors, calling on me, paying for lunch every time, bringing me coffee? It's a lot.. Well that's because he likes me.. No It could be friendly, doesn't mean he likes me.

Almost everyday you told yourself the same thing.

I don't want him as anything more than a friend, maybe a work husband now that I know he's a cool lil white boy. I think he knows that..

Not when you flirt back he doesn't know that..

But is it really flirting or being nice? Besides I think he might feel the same.

A look into his eyes slams that possibility.

Who am I kidding. Maybe it's wrong to let him pay. Is that selfish?..

Girl, you're not dumb you know exactly what you're doing..

No, but really, I enjoy his company. I look forward to our little lunch outings as much as he does..

Then pay for yourself!..

I KNOW, but I don't.. want to...

Blinking, you sigh clearing your guilty conscience. "I look exactly like my dad but my personality is my mom."

"Oh really. That's where you get those adorably chubby cheeks from? Your dad? Interesting family photos I bet."

"Believe it or not that's also where I get this tummy and all this ass from," I say straight faced watching his cheeks sink in. On that note, he buries himself in his pho and I watch him hold himself together, the both of us laughing on the inside.

"You're ridiculous," he smiles down at his bowl. "What will I ever do with you.."

"Hopefully keep feeding me."

"Of course, Barb told me about a BBQ place about fifteen minutes from here. How about tomorrow?"

"Then I can show you pictures of my bootylicious father," you stare watching him collect himself again.

"Wow," he chokes on his broth. "Or we can look at yours, completely up to you."

-----

Never had it felt so good to be coming or going. Erik wheeled his bags through the station coolly, but internally he was leaping for joy like a little kid. After touching down in every continent through the military as a soldier and then a mercenary soldier, he was used to traveling. New locations, customs, and languages were the norm. War, battle, and toppling small countries for their resources and political control was the norm. It wasn't right, but it made big money and when his service ended, he retired. However, that didn't change the fact that he was still a multilingual and adaptable war weapon with no other real skill or interest other than killing. He was good at it so he made it a business. A consultant was what he called himself. Gameplay and development was the front.

Life as an assassin made him his own boss. He could kill and go off the map at will. He'd travel as far as it took to complete the task and take cash or cryptocurrency which he'd translate into several offshore accounts before his domestic ones. He'd usually buy a throwaway car, restock his ammo, spend time sunbathing on a yacht in the Maldives, hunker down in a city where he blended in and then isolate for a month wallowing in a small room before his next kill. Sightseeing wasn't on his agenda. He'd been all over the world and seen the worst of human nature. Texas had been a first as far as experiencing the high points anywhere. He'd enjoyed his stay with a woman and they'd gone on dates, real dates. He'd gone to an amusement park of all places and taken her around the city. It was magical though he'd almost been killed for it. Texas.. Not Cartagena or Havana or Jaipur but country ass Texas. Now here he was finally back in Cali. Nothing came close to the joy of having someone waiting for him. Someone who'd be overjoyed to see him. His job was done, his leg was healing up nicely, no one was after him because he'd left no one alive that could easily identify him. He was on his way home.

Home, he smiled somewhat bitterly. More like playing house.. Ain't none of this shit real and eventually it will end, probably in disaster.

Still.. He couldn't drop the facade for it was filling a hole within him that he hadn't realized until recently could be filled. He had latent desires. Playing house with her was the closest to a home he'd ever get.

-----

Erik's car takes premium gas and you wonder about his bills. Is he paying them? 'Cause you're not. He'd better have it worked out because once the lights go out in this isolated grand establishment, you're gone. You've gotten too used to walking around with every bright light in the house on at night. Walking through the bathroom butt naked you light the very last of his pricey looking black label white candles having burned through the rest of his supply. This one's Leather scented, not the best but not bad. That's why it was last. Locking the bathroom door out of habit, you run the shower and enjoy the luxurious spa room you've become accustomed to. The water pressure still hits. The warm thick white towels are fresh from the dryer. Your body is hairless from shaving and you've just purchased a new body oil to try that Ava swears by. Though you're only going to bed, you can't resist it. It smells like like fresh baked cookies from the oven and makes your skin radiate golden. It's perfect for a pool party or the beach.. whenever you end up going again which may be a while. Taking a few suggestive shiny body selfies in the towel, you decide to go ahead and send them to Erik though he doesn't deserve them. Someone has to see your glass skin. You hadn't spoken to him in the last two days as he'd been "busy". Doing what, you had no clue. It felt like bullshit. All of it. It was maddening to the point that you didn't want to care anymore, whether he returned or stayed. He'd been gone too long. Waaay too long. His reasons for wanting you out of Texas were beginning to feel like lies.

There's probably a huge harem of harlot whores he's entertaining and he doesn't want me to know he lied about only having three submissives, the asshole. He's probably in some twisted unsanitary orgy in a dark and questionable dungeon drinking glowing lime jello shooters and getting blackout drunk right now.. Probably whipping some poor girl with one of those long cowboy whips. God knows what he does with his other subs. If he was that dirty with Lil Bitch's morally debased ass and that was in front of me...

Every now and again the thought would cross your mind. Fuck him, you thought. Stay gone. I'll keep living here alone in the lap of luxury.

Never before had you been in a hot tub so often. It did wonders for a post work unwind with a smoothie or herbal tea in hand. You didn't need him when you had wifi, cable, powerful A/C, and a full fridge. He could stay with whoever he was with.

But what if he doesn't come back, your mind wonders darkly. What if he stays in Texas and never comes back?

Suddenly the house seems a lot chillier and unwelcoming.. Empty even. Too quiet. Hugging yourself for comfort you wander through the house and turn each of the lights off one by one to get an idea once more just how dark it gets. Too dark. Pitch black. You can't even see a hand in front of your face and panic sets in along with a strong inner body chill. This isn't something you can do and if Erik never comes back...

Honestly you've never seriously considered that possibility. The thought brings a loneliness that echoes the depth of darkness, both equally terrifying. The fact is that you do care.. profoundly to the point that his continued absence really bothers you. He has already become an indestructible pillar in your everyday life. Going days without so much as a hello feels like a week and that doesn't do much good for your anxiety.

Flipping each of the lights back on, you settle into Erik's bed this time around and stare at the time until you doze off. When you open your eyes there's natural light coming in through the window and you take a grateful breath before sitting up in the bed.

"Good morning," a chilling voice interjects and you nearly have a heart attack, unable to scream in the face of Flu sitting on the edge of the bed watching you. You want to run, scream, fight, anything but your body which is frozen in absolute fear and shock will not move. He smiles and you dart upright in bed sweating cold bullets and panting. Outside is still dark. According to the clock you've been sleep three and a half hours. It's 3:30 AM. Taking a deep breath to calm your breathing you look around the room comforting yourself with the mantra "It's just a dream. You're okay. You're okay. There's nothing to worry about. You've been safe and you're still safe. You're completely safe." A few minutes of repeating it and looking around, listening closely to the air has you relaxed enough to fall back asleep especially since your eyes are crossing up. When your eyes open again you check the clock. It's been almost another hour but you keep waking up.

Hold up. Didn't I have the light on?

Thinking back, your half sleep mind isn't completely sure but you know you sleep with the lights on. Nervous to move, your wide eyes search the pitch blackness before you and when you get the courage to move, you turn over bracing yourself to see Flu sitting there beside you on the bed. Nothing's there or out of the ordinary.

Did the lights go out? Did it blow? I think I had it on...

It's not getting up to explore. That's how people fir in movies. Instead, you bury your head in the covers like a small child and slip back into sleep. Or at least almost. Before you can cover your eyes with the blanket, you hear something that sounds like a slight vibration. That would be normal.. if your phone wasn't all the way downstairs.

A hand clamps over your mouth and as you feel a body quickly cover yours you grab at the darkness in attempt to gouge, scratch, and scrape whatever you can reach. When you pull locs, your brain registers and you yank them hard to get a noise.

"AHH," he whisper screams.

"ERIK WHAT THE FUCK?!" This time your lungs are free and healthy because you yell directly in his ear, slapping at him. "YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK." Breathless, you try to catch it, still swinging. "Why would you do that! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

"I wanted to surprise you," he grips your hands. "I didn't think you'd try to rip my damn hair out! And why your nails so sharp!"

"Are you mentally deficient? In what world did that seem like a good idea to you?!"

"Catch your breath," he says quietly.

Getting up he flips the lights and sits on the bed beside you. You haven't seen him in what feels like ages. "You still having nightmares." It's not a question as he looks in your tired eyes.

"Not often, just a couple of times since I've been on my own here." You didn't really have them when you two were together. He nods understanding your meaning. You hadn't mentioned it on the phone or through text. What could he have done about it anyway? There's a moment of silence as he rests his hand over your blanketed leg.

"I'm sorry for being away so long..," he says quietly. "I mean it. I'm sorry for scaring you.. I honestly didn't consider the nightmares because when we were together you didn't have them. I promise you, you are safe. He can't hurt you. There are many things in this world that can, but I promise he's not one.. and as long as I'm here I won't let anyone touch you. I will protect you with my life."

"That's good and all," you sigh, half listening and half asleep already. "But can you just.. stay here with me until I fall asleep."

"You in my bed," he smiles climbing fully dressed under the blanket to scoop you into his arms. Instantly your body clings to his and his shirt becomes your new pillow. You feel the quick sensation of his lips on your temple. "Did you miss me," he whispers. You mean to respond, but instead you fade out asleep.

-----

As soon as he'd slipped into the bed, she was knocked, sleeping soundly and breathing loud. He stroked her braids, her arm, and her back gently but firmly the way he always had when she needed help to relax.

"I missed you," he whispered into her forehead. She responded with a small fart and his nose crinkled. He didn't smell it which meant it was trapped under the blanket. She did it once more just then but it was louder. She'd be horrified if she were awake. "Y/N," he groaned hoping he wouldn't smell it. He didn't dare move though. He only sighed and continued rubbing her back. "Stink," he nicknamed her on the spot. "My lil stink stink," his stomach jumped in humor thinking of her reaction in the morning. He wanted to see the expression on her face when he called her that and when she heard the explanation of why. It made his chest shake. He tried to control it so not to wake her. She was sleeping too good for him to even get up and take his outside clothes off and they were hot to sleep in. He wanted to get comfortable.

That's okay, he decided as he settled in to fall asleep exactly where he was, under her. It took some effort to get comfortable in that position but in that moment there was no other place he'd have rather been.

@soufcakmistress @itsiesha @ju5tp34chy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @blackpantherimagines @blackpinup22 @muse-of-mbaku @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent-blog

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #house rules

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years

Text

『 Their best sexual characteristic | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

Part 2/?

Characters: female!reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sugawara Kōshi, Bokuto Kōtarō

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), 18+, headcanons, imagines, explicit descriptions of sex

Attention: All characters in this series are aged up to be at least 18+

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Some of my best boys in this one. Who am I kidding? They're all my best boys. Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Imo~

Ushijima Wakatoshi

» His power & stamina

You've seen him on the court. This man can go full throttle for hours at a time

Getting dicked down by him is no different

His libido isn't as high as you'd like, so it's not all that often you get the experience, but when you do–

Holy moly, does he make up for it

We're talking round after round, railing you raw until you can't walk straight

I mean, you just know this guy is packing some major heat in the dick department

He keeps up a brutal, relentless rhythm, with so much power behind it that you're scared the bed is going to severely dent the wall

'Severely' because it already has

Your dorm neighbours frequently have to bang on the walls and yell for you to keep the noise down

It's hard, rough and primal, satiating a deep, lustful need for you and only you

His eyes burn into you as a devilish grin begins to spread across his face, driving you closer and closer to orgasm

It's an expression he rarely shows, but when he does, it send shivers to your core

When he finishes, he tends to fall asleep almost immediately, completely worn out

The sleep is deep and restful; you can tell from how peaceful he looks next to you

Sugawara Kōshi

» His knowledge of toys

The face of an angel, the imagination of a sinner

Suga knows his way around a myriad of artificial delights that push and pull you to orgasm over and over again

He puts his knowledge to good use on a regular basis, either in bed or during the day

Once he asked you, with a sweet, innocent smile, to slip a remote controlled vibrator into your pussy for him omg, yes

You kept it inside you all through the school day, being teased, aroused and primed, hour after hour, until you were finally ready for his cock after school yummy

Vibrators, dildos, beads, handcuffs, paddles, gags – you name it, Suga's got it

And you've tried it

But he doesn't limit the fun to just you, though sharing is caring, ya know

Every now and then, his mood will switch from slightly dominant to submissive, and he'll ask you – no, beg you – tied to the bed with big, watery eyes and a rock hard cock, to fuck him with a fleshlight

You eagerly oblige him, enjoying edging him from near-orgasm to near-orgasm until his pretty cock is trembling, drenched in precum, and ready to burst the tip is bright pink, and you can't convince me otherwise

When you finally straddle him, taking him in all the way to the base until your hips are flush, he's practically crying from how good it feels inside you

You ride him slowly, making sure to squeeze every last inch of his aching cock

He's so sensitive that he cums in under a minute - hard - thanking you over and over in a daze of ecstasy fuck, I want to see it

Bokuto Kōtarō

» He loves eating you out

This guy loves pussy – adores it, and your pussy is the absolute best

He worships the very sight of it

Which is why he's so keen to show his love and appreciation whenever he can by licking, sucking, and exploring every inch of your swollen folds and hardened clit

Boy knows his way around a pussy

He loves watching you writhing and moaning from his touch, holding your hips down with his large hands, a grin on his face and his hard-on pressing against his volleyball shorts hey, hey, hey

He's like a kid in a candy shop. The joy he gets from it is almost too pure

Almost

He loves the taste, the scent, the texture, and feeling how wet you're getting for him

He's the kind of person who says, "Itadakimasu!" before eating pussy, I just know it

Once, when he was in the middle of eating you out, he teased you by lightly nibbling your clit with his teeth

You instinctively grabbed his head and pressed him down into you, knocking you head back as you ran your fingers up through his hair

It turned him on so much he almost came on the spot

He's so eager to eat you out, he'll do it basically anywhere, whether he gets to bury himself inside you after or not man is hungry

Because what's important to him is making his princess feel good uwu

♡°☆°♡°☆°♡

Part 1: Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!#hq!#hq #anime #ushijima wakatoshi #sugawara koshi #bokuto kotaro #smut #hq!! smut #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #imagine #headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headers #imo chan imagines

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mingkily · 3 years

Text

｡☆✼★━ “friends with benefits” | s.mg ━★✼☆｡

navigation

starring: mingi x reader

fsk-0: fluff | language

volume: 5.5k words

vip access: @midnightseonghwa & @treasure-hwa & @barsformars !

“shit!”, you cursed, “shit, shit, shit!”

several other people were looking at you concernedly, but you paid them no mind, instead desperately tried to fix your hair because you’d managed to entirely ruin the hairstyle by accidentally pulling out one single hairpin, and now your incredible amounts of hair were going wild, something that wasn’t at all possible considering your texture, because while straight hair being left unstyled or put in a basic ponytail might look cute and endearing your curls very much did not, not after the stylist had brushed them - you’d look much like you managed to get a severe electric shock, something that wasn’t exactly the desired look to represent your school at one of the more prestigious dancing events in your area.

“can i like… help you?”, one brave soul dared to approach you, and this guy had balls, you had to admit, because even though you were technically just any other dancer everyone in the team knew about your fire, especially when you were angry. and looking up you knew that he must have known that, too, because he was your team’s vice captain, mingi, but maybe he hoped this position would get him mercy. it wouldn’t.

“unless you can fix my hair, you could help by leaving me alone”, you hissed, anger seeping out through every pore, but he just smiled at you in a way he hoped would be calming or reassuring, and then did something you had not at all expected.

“i could try? i can’t make promises, but we’re up in ten and the stylists are who knows where, so i’m all you got”, joking to hide his own annoyance at your stylists just having run off when this had very much been a possibility, and also annoyed that your hairstyle had been so easy to ruin when you were supposed to dance, something that everyone with a little common sense knew required people to move, and quite a lot at that.

“fine. i hope you know if i'm ruining the school's reputation because of a bad hairstyle i'm taking you down with me.”

you really did have fire, but mingi found it weirdly endearing - both of you were well aware of the height difference, yet here you were threatening him if he messed up your hair. and from the way you sounded he didn't even doubt that you'd manage to go through with that threat.

"i'll try my best. now stay still, we don't have too long left", starting to remove all the pins and whatnot from your hair in record speed because he'd need a clean canvas, so to say, and then his hands were in your hair and it didn't at all feel professional, you highly doubted that it would look professional, either, but he was right, he was all you got right now. so you just let him do his thing, hoping he'd get done before you needed to go on stage.

“two minutes!”, one of your teammates told you in a slight stage of panic, but right after that the tall vice captain seemed satisfied with his work, telling you: “try to shake your head, like, really hard, so we know it's going to work even when you're dancing.”

you did as asked and to your surprise it did hold up, much better than your stylists' attempts at a hairstyle ever had, theirs leaving you constantly scared that your hair would suddenly explode into a mess of curls as an unplanned special effect because you could feel the hair move along with every little movement; that wasn't the case with whatever he had done. your hair felt cemented into place, and while the tug at the roots was a little uncomfortable it was nothing you wouldn't be able to deal with. in fact, you preferred this over the constant fear that came without the tug at your roots.

“how's it look?”, he asked both you and the teammates, them approving before you turned to look for yourself.

it wasn't anything fancy, but it looked as professional as could be considering it was a hairstyle created in the span of maybe seven minutes by a layman, a bun that looked like it was a casual, loose one but that you could feel very much wasn't, and if you said that you'd wanted to make the two main centres (which, funnily enough, were mingi and you, him because he was vice captain and the actual captain was more of a trainer and organiser than part of the performing team and you because the fire you had when you were angry was a fire you shared when dancing and really no one else even wanted the main centre position, not when it came to competitions) look rather casual in terms of styling maybe you'd be able to pretend it was on purpose.

and it survived the entire performance, it felt like it hadn’t moved at all, leaving you able to give your all even with your upper body for the very first time ever since you started performing and your school had decided to give you stylists because you’d finally managed to be prestigious enough for that. you were happy that you could afford the stylists, even though it was only one for hair and one for makeup for the entire team, but they apparently had never had to deal with curls before, and most definitely not with thick, waist-length curls, as proven by the fact that they insisted on brushing your hair out every single performance, no matter how often you told them that that wouldn’t exactly make anything better.

after the performance, while you were waiting for the other teams to finish, mingi came up to you, and the two of you started talking at the same time.

“was dancing like that okay for you?”

“can you do my hair from now on?”

then both of you burst out laughing, the tall boy being the first to speak again.

“i take that as a yes?”, he asked you with a slightly teasing grin.

you rolled your eyes at him, but you were still grinning anyway, and then nodded your head wildly in confirmation, the bun still staying right where it was supposed to be.

“literally i’ve never felt this good during any performance. i usually try not to move my head too much because i can just feel my hair waiting to explode into everyone’s faces, but today was… heaven.”

maybe you were being a little dramatic, but your hair and the lack of expressiveness of your upper body that came with having to be careful so you wouldn’t obscure several people’s view with your unreasonable amounts of hair had actually made you dislike public performances or competitions, and being able to perform without holding back had been a nice change, one you weren’t sure you were willing to give up on again. so you asked him, again: “can you do my hair from now on? i’d do whatever it takes and if that should be the issue i’ll deal with the stylists too, just please”, so much desperation in your voice that he was about to start laughing, but then he remembered the amounts of hair he’d had to fit into the bun and stopped himself because if that did explode on stage he could see how it would be quite… unfortunate, and how feeling like it constantly might added unnecessary stress during every performance, which were already stressful enough. maybe that was why he agreed, or maybe he just liked how soft your hair had been.

“i mean, i can try? but i guess uh, i should probably practice before the next public thing, just so we can be sure it works?”

that was a good point, but after a few seconds’ thought you’d found a solution.

“you can do it after dance practice? if you have time, i mean. i usually stay longer to practice a few times by myself anyway, so we’d see if it holds up without risking anything for anyone but me.”

mingi didn’t even need to think about it before agreeing, smiling at you happily because even while he didn’t really know you yet - you barely ever talked, and if you did you only did so during dance practice and about dancing - he always loved making new friends, and it wasn’t too unlikely that he’d manage to befriend you if he got to be your personal hairstylist from now on.

first, however, you had to see if he had genuine skills when it came to taming your hair or if that one time had been sheer luck, which you did a few days later after group dance practice, when you as promised stayed longer so you could go through the choreo a few times by yourself again, having enough space and time to really do all movements, as slow and as spread out as you needed, because you’d found that it was easier to do them right in the team when you’d perfected them by yourself first, without having to take care that you wouldn’t accidentally kick anyone in the face.

“wait, your hair looks super different today”, your vice captain told you once you freed your hair from the constricts you had put it in before team practice, and you rolled your eyes, not at him but at the lady that insisted she had to brush your hair to style it when that really only made it worse.

“yeah, i didn’t brush it. makes it easier to handle.”

mingi nodded in understanding (though he really didn’t understand, because the most he’d ever dealt with on his own head was straight hair but styled to look voluminous and wavy rather than like limp noodles), examining his new canvas before asking: “do you have hair bands or something?”

at that you went over to your bag, rummaging in the front pocket and pulling out scrunchies, regular ties, those spiral hair ties that had started becoming popular, bobby pins and hairpins and the tall boy was left staring in wonder at just how many different kinds of hair taming products you carried with you on the daily.

“go wild. i have a brush too, if you really need it, but i’d rather you didn’t.”

“got it”, and with that he sat down next to your bag, patting the space in front of him so he’d have good access to your hair without having to move all your things around, trying carefully to twist your hair into different shapes just to see what might look good before he’d figure out if the laws of physics would allow for that to work.

“tell me if it hurts, okay?”, he told you quietly before looking at the - to him - huge array of different hair ties, a little overwhelmed and very inexperienced when it came to knowing in what way they differed from each other except for looks, so he asked your advice.

“which ones should i use? or are they all equally good or..?”, an open question so you could tell him whatever there was to know, which you did, and eventually he managed to replicate the bun that had made you so happy during the performance, and that made you so happy now, too, because it held up for the entire practice, a practice mingi joined because he wanted to see if he’d done okay and because he was curious and because he wanted to confirm next week’s hair styling appointment.

“you’re really good”, was the first thing he told you once you were done dancing, a comment that made you feel a little shy and flustered because if anything he was a really good dancer, and apparently really good at sensing when people were embarrassed, too, because he immediately continued: “and seems like i’ve figured out some magic trick for your hair. can i join again next week?”

you weren’t at all opposed, but worried a little that he didn’t actually want to, was just doing this to enhance the team’s performance as a vice captain should, so you wanted to be sure you weren’t wasting his time with your horrible hair that you were thinking of chopping off anyway because it was annoying.

“only if you have the time and if you really want to. i’m probably going to cut my hair soon anyway, i could just do it a little earlier and then the problem’s gone.”

as much as he knew he didn’t have any say in what you did with your hair, that thought made him just the tiniest bit sad, just because he’d found quite some enjoyment in doing your hair - it was soft, it was pretty, he liked your curls and you had a lot of it for him to style. so to think that he’d have to give up on his new hobby so soon again wasn’t exactly a thought he liked, and if there was any way he’d be able to prolong your makeover just a little longer he’d take it.

“no, i actually like it. your hair’s really soft too”, embarrassed as soon as he’d said that because you were acquaintances at most, yet here he was telling you that you had soft hair. at least he hadn’t told you that it smelled nice, because if he had he’d probably have to change schools.

in an attempt to distract from what he perceived to be a mess-up he then curiously inquired: “why do you want to cut it?”

you sighed out in a mixture of frustration and annoyance and resignation; you didn’t actually want to cut it, but you’d grown tired of having to take care of it, so cutting was really the only other option if you didn’t want a large dirty mess on your head.

“it’s just so much work, just brushing and washing and all that. takes ages and i don’t want to spend hours a week making sure i look acceptable, even though i really like my long hair. but that’s how it is sometimes”, a small, bitter smile on your face at that last sentence.

mingi’s inner monologue was one big chain of don’t embarrass yourself don’t embarrass yourself, but of course he failed.

“i mean, as i said, i like doing things with your hair. you could hire me as your stylist, so you wouldn’t have to take care of it and i’d get to play with it some more. win-win?”

then, because you didn’t immediately reply, were somewhat dumbfounded at his offer, he continued rambling.

“i wouldn’t wash it of course, that’d be weird, but i could brush it sometimes in school or i could learn how to braid or something, and then i’d actually be able to style your hair different ways for the performances and all, and-”

“you really wouldn’t mind?”, you tried to make sure, not because you didn’t enjoy the idea but because you didn’t want him to feel weird, since you were still well aware of the fact that him doing your hair when you barely even knew each other wasn’t exactly the most natural way for things to go. but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t love having people do your hair for you, both because it meant less work for you and because you just really liked how it felt.

“i really wouldn’t mind. if it’s fine with you, i mean. if it’s not weird.”

it was obvious that both of you were embarrassed, but in a way that was what made you believe him; he wouldn’t be embarrassed if he didn’t think he was being weird by genuinely wanting to do things with your hair. so your bitter smile turned into a genuine one as you accepted his proposal, mingi smiling, too, and that was how you found yourselves in the weird relationship you were in now.

the label that fit best would probably be friends with benefits, because much like with friends with benefits the two of you had become close first after the benefits were added. the only difference was that your benefits weren’t sex, they were him playing with your hair at any chance he got. he really liked it, you were able to tell after maybe two weeks of being slightly awkward still, and by now the two of you regularly alternated between sitting with your friends or his during lunch because neither of you wanted to waste time that could be spent with his hands in your hair, both friend groups quite surprised at the sudden addition, but everyone got along well so it wasn’t a problem.

“i really didn’t expect you to have this much hair”, was one of the first things mingi had told you once your little agreement had come to be, you chuckling because that didn’t even surprise you - you usually kept it up or had it braided or really just anything to control it just because that was so much easier. but now that he was regularly running his hands through your mane it was revealed regularly to not only him but also people at school just how much hair you actually had. and while you didn’t know about your fellow students you could tell your by now rather good friend was delighted.

he’d surprised you when one day he’d gotten out a brush from his own bag rather than using the one you always carried with you, and surprised you even more when you realised that it was one of the fancy curl detangling brushes that you’d never cared enough to buy, surprised both because he’d spent his own money to get you a brush and because he’d obviously spent time researching your hair type to know what kind of brush was good for curls like yours.

“you really didn’t have to, mingi”, you told him when he started brushing your hair with his newest acquisition, feeling a little guilty because part of you was still convinced he secretly hated having slid into the position of your personal hair stylist, but he gave your head a reassuring pat.

“i know, but maybe i’ll get to brush your hair twice a week now.”

and how were you to say no to that, really? he was so gentle whenever he brushed your hair, had much more mercy with your scalp than you did, had learned how to do different kinds of braids and updos so even when your hair looked like it had exploded he managed to make it look good until you’d wash it again and it would return to its original state, so of course you gave in, the wide smile on his face more of a reward than even the fact that he’d now spend even more time with his hands in your hair.

it wasn’t like that was the only kind of affection the two of you had started displaying, though, a couple weeks after that first period of being awkward had ended, him regularly pulling you into his arms or his lap by now because the closer he was to you the easier access to your hair he had, and he’d found that your hands were equally as soft as your hair that one time you’d repositioned his hands positioning a hair band, your small palms on top of his much bigger hands and he was about to melt because your hands were so soft and small and warm and now he’d be unable to stop himself from holding your hands unless you told him not to do that.

which you never did, though, so handholding was added to the benefits of your friendship, as was cuddling, neither of you uncomfortable with incredible amounts of pda because really, it couldn’t get weirder than how this friendship had started out, so in a way it felt like you were way past being embarrassed about anything. he was sweet, he made sure to never make you uncomfortable or hurt you, and spending time with him was incredibly fun, sometimes practicing your dance routines together but more often just watching movies or going on picnics or other low-key things like that.

maybe all that should have been enough to make mingi realise that he had developed feelings for you at some point, but it wasn’t, the realisation hitting when one of your friends spotted a bug in his hair during lunch and you moved to carefully removed it, having your hands in his hair rather than vice versa for the very first time, and you were both delighted and offended.

“you never told me your hair is so soft!”, you told him accusingly, a sheepish grin and the words “sorry, i didn’t even realise it is” your reply, and then you caused his brain to entirely crash because you pulled your knees up on the bench, then moved your body so you were decently kneeling next to him, your body pressed to his side and your chest way too close to his face while you rubbed your cheek against his hair, enjoying this new experience of you being the one to play with someone’s hair for once while your incredibly overwhelmed best friend was determined to look straight ahead and straight ahead only, because he knew if he were to turn his head toward you he’d faint or cry or both.

he’d probably never been more relieved than when you dropped down to your butt next to him, though his brain did buffer a little again when you moved into his lap. it wasn’t even like you didn’t usually do that, but now in this situation it was a little much for his poor hormones, you in his lap with your face in the crook of his neck and if he didn’t have your hair to play with this would probably be the death of him. and when you whined out: “why are you so perfect, it’s not fair! you’re perfect boyfriend material. you’re funny and pretty and you’re kind and you smell good and now you even have soft hair, can you give the rest of us a chance?” he knew he was done for, because the butterflies in his stomach weren’t the kind of butterflies you were supposed to get around someone you only saw as a friend.

he didn’t tell you, though, was scared of making you uncomfortable and was scared of getting his heart broken and was convinced it was just a small crush anyway so there was no need to, especially when you were such an important part of the dance team and awkward tension between the two of you would affect the entire team and every performance. so he stayed silent, determined to ignore his feelings until they went away by themselves.

then, however, you brought him a shampoo, blueberry because you figured that was a rather neutral scent for a guy and you hadn’t wanted to get one of those three-in-one shampoos, mingi looking at the bottle wide-eyed and surprised because he hadn’t expected that even when he’d gotten you some shampoo in the past as well, along with hair accessories whose purchase he excused with “i mean, in the end it is me who gets to use them, it just happens to be on your head”, and because this wasn’t technically anything odd you got insecure about the fact that this technically was “girl shampoo”, even though you found the distinction stupid and useless.

“sorry, i should’ve guessed you won’t like that. i just heard that those hair ass and balls shampoos” - with which you meant the typical three-in-one shampoos - “aren’t actually good for the hair so i figured this might be better, but it’s technically women’s so of course it’s not really good either, i kind of just wanted to get you a little something because you always get me so much and-”

your anxious rambling would probably have continued for another hour if he hadn’t interrupted you, hands enveloping yours that still clung to the shampoo anxiously, trying to smile in a way that would seem reassuring to you too, rather than mocking which you probably assumed would be the case.

“thank you, really”, voice soft and appreciative and you finally calmed down a little, “but are you saying i can’t use this on my ass and balls?”

he hoped that joke would make you smile again, and it did, such a beautiful smile that he really wanted to kiss you right now, but he wasn’t going to. not when he really couldn’t be sure you felt the same.

what he was going to do was confess to you, though, just because he might explode if he didn’t, so now it was his turn to be nervous.

“uh, but also, i kind of… probably have a crush on you. just so you know.”

that most definitely was unexpected, and you wouldn’t be able to give him the reply he was hoping for either, your smile falling a little because you didn’t want to hurt him but knew that no matter how kindly you reacted it would hurt at least a little.

“mingi, i’m sorry”, you started, “i really am”, enough to let him know that you didn’t reciprocate, but at least you were being nice about it, weren’t making fun of him for thinking you might ever care about him that way.

“no, it’s okay”, he tried to reassure, even though it didn’t really feel okay in that moment. but he knew it would be once a little time had passed.

“i didn’t really think you’d like me back anyway. but are we still friends? or would i be making things weird?”

his hands had fallen from yours by now, his eyes trained on the shampoo bottle so he wouldn’t have to look at your face, anxiety replacing the blood in his veins as he waited for your reply that he half expected to be you telling him to leave you alone from now on, no matter how close you’d been up till now. for some reason he was convinced this was going to ruin your friendship, was scared of that until you grabbed one of his hands with your free one, trying to get him to look at you again with that so he’d see that there was no negative emotion except for maybe guilt between the two of you.

“you’re not making anything weird, i promise. and if you want we could like… go on dates too? and see where that takes us. if that wouldn’t make things unnecessarily hard for you, i mean.”

that most definitely got mingi’s attention, his head jolting up to stare at you in disbelief. were you implying that you’d maybe be willing to give him a chance?

“wait, you… mean that? really?”, hopeful but still scared, because he was putting his heart out in the open right now and he couldn’t know how you were going to treat it. yes, by now he’d found out that the fire you held when you danced or were angry was never used against the people you cared about, was only used to protect them, he’d found out that you were the softest, sweetest, kindest person once you’d warmed up to someone, but maybe what he was most scared of was that he’d lost his spot among your friends now. that he’d been demoted to dance team vice captain again, an acquaintance at best. that would be much worse than the rejection.

but that wasn’t the case. you weren’t sure if he even had it in him to do something that would genuinely make you want to cut him out of your life. you did want to give him a chance, even when you didn’t really reciprocate his crush right now, because he actually was perfect boyfriend material, was gentle and understanding and you knew that even if you’d end up never reciprocating he’d still be just as sweet to you. but you didn’t want to reject him right away, or at least not fully, wanted to give both him and yourself the option to maybe eventually date; sure, your answer right now wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either. your heart was saying maybe. so, in a way, you wanted to offer yourself a free trial period to tip your uncertain feelings over to either “we’re just friends” or “there’s something more there”.

“yeah, i mean that. if it’s fine with you. i don’t want you to get hurt if it doesn’t end up the way you hoped.”

to your tall, sweet best friend any chance was better than no chance, even if he wouldn’t manage to win your heart, because at least he’d tried. at least he wouldn’t have to beat himself up over the fact that he’d never actually tried winning your heart. but now that you’d told him that you’d be willing to give it a try he was going to do all he could to woo you, starting with complimenting you whenever he could, about everything, about your smile and your eyes and your hands and your outfit and your laugh and your passion and your hair and-

really, you were convinced that if he were to paint your fingernails he’d probably tell you he’d never seen prettier fingernails ever before in his life.

it was cute, though, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it adorable how he’d get so flustered whenever he’d compliment you but would do it anyway. would always get you small gifts, too. most of the time it wasn’t even anything fancy, more often than not he’d spent at most a thousand won on whatever he got, but that made it even more endearing. you’d never expected to swoon over a rock that glimmered in the sunlight, or some random black rubber that he gave you as a ring (and then drew on, smiling proudly at his creation), or over a pokémon sticker from his childhood collection that he owned in triplicate - or now in duplicate, you guessed - because it had been his favourite pokémon back then, but you did. these weren’t no-brainer gifts, you were able to tell he really put thought into them, and they were absolutely adorable.

with mingi going all out like this it was impossible not to fall in love with him, really, though you still hadn’t figured out how to let him know because while it was obvious that his feelings for you hadn’t changed you were shy to tell him that yours had, had no idea how to even start that conversation in the first place. you didn’t exactly go up to him randomly and say: “yo, mingi, i actually wanna date you now.” you couldn’t do that.

so you continued as you’d grown used to, being best friends except now you were also going on dates, but it actually was a regular best friends thing that gave you the opportunity to update him on how you felt, the regular private dance practice after your team’s one where mingi would wait for you and do your hair before you’d start dancing, and then un-style your hair once you were done, except today he was feeling particularly affectionate, holding you close to his chest as he untied your hair and then, with all the confidence he’d been able to gather while you’d been dancing: “i kind of want to kiss your neck right now. you smell really nice”, something you were half convinced was a lie because all you could smell was your sweat, but you weren’t going to call him out for that when he’d offered you an opportunity to confess on a silver plate.

“why don’t you then?”, nervous but somewhat excited at the prospect, and before he was able to change his mind or be too anxious about it the tall sweetheart pressed a small kiss to the juncture between neck and shoulder, another one first when you hadn’t moved away at all, careful and shy because with every little peck he was convinced you’d suddenly push him away and decide that it was actually weird and gross, but that didn’t happen, and it was actually him who decided to push you away slightly because he noticed you were starting to get cold, still drenched in sweat but no longer moving so of course you’d start freezing sooner or later.

“you should take a shower, i don’t want you to get sick. i’ll wait here”, a nervous smile because he wasn’t sure if you’d let him do that again after your shower or if this had been a one time thing, but he got his answer when you smiled back, nervous, too, and asked: “can i get a kiss to my mouth first so we can make it official?”

his answer was an obvious one and his smile when you came back from the shower and grabbed his hand brighter than you’d ever seen.

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1-800-smash · 4 years

Note

Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?

「 next time won’t you sing with me. 」

feat. dabi.

summary: learning the alphabet with dabi is easy, as long as you can still remember what he taught you afterwards ;)

warnings: nsfw content.

word count: 1.9k

request: @inanabsentia — ❝Oh wait I just realised we could ask for the whole alphabet for a character,, could you for Dabi?❞

@anon — ❝Can u do a, c, d and I with Dabi pls 🥺🥺❞

@anon — ❝Omg pls could you do BFKO for Dabi (for the alphabet thing) 🥺🤲❞

@guijh103 — ❝Hii, could you make B,E,F,H,N,V,X,W,Z for Dabi pls.❞

@anon — ❝a, f , i, y on dabi please? 🥺💞❞

a/n: oh my, it seems everyone wants a piece of this beef jerky :0 don’t worry, i see you guys! i’m doing bakugo next, so be on the look out for that one! i hope you enjoy it! ♡ — shelbs.

submitted — [09.20.18]

nsfw under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

⚘ he’s not that big on aftercare.

⚘ if you want to be pampered after sex you’re looking at the wrong person, hun.

⚘ anything you want you can just get it yourself, at least that’s how he sees it.

⚘ you’re a big girl who can take a big cock, so that means you can do the rest by yourself.

⚘ he’s knows it a dick move but he just doesn’t care.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

⚘ he likes your ass, especially when he’s spanking it until its a nice red color while he fucks you from behind.

⚘ he loves to knead the soft flesh there when your making out and things are getting heated.

⚘ or on the rare occasion he lets you ride him he’ll love to grab your ass and slam you down on his cock.

⚘ the surprised scream that comes out of you makes his mouth twist up into a proud smirk.

⚘ your being impaled on his cock and he fucking loves it, he might even let you do it more often just to hear those sweet sounds of yours.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

⚘ he LOVES to cum on your face.

⚘ when you go down on him, right as he’s about to cum he’ll pull out and paint your entire face white like it’s a canvas.

⚘ doesn’t mind cumming on either the insides of your thighs or your stomach.

⚘ but do NOT ask him to cum inside you, that’s a huge no no.

⚘ “eat shit i’m not putting a demon inside you” vibe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

⚘ he gets off being the dominant one.

⚘ he likes having control over the situation and being able to decide what will happen.

⚘ he’s still having trouble with his own past and trying to distance himself from what happened.

⚘ but now, in this situation, he can take back control.

⚘ and you’re so willing to hand it over to him, you trust him.

⚘ and it makes him just the slightest bit contented to know that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

⚘ he has experience, but if i’m being honest here he doesn’t see sex as a big deal.

⚘ he wouldn’t be out there looking to get laid every day of the week but if shit happens, it happens.

⚘ but don’t be discouraged, you obviously mean something a little more to dabi than some random fuck if he keeps showing up uninvited.

⚘ he might not admit it out right, but even though he doesn’t think sex is a big deal he’s still not going to sleep with just anyone.

⚘ remember that next time he’s eating your pussy out until you can’t see straight.

⚘ because no other girl could be this lucky.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

⚘ likes fucking you doggy style the most, his hand forcing your head down into the mattress while he just pound into you relentlessly.

⚘ or maybe taking you against a wall, that’s always fun for him.

⚘ your legs wrap around his hips nicely while the wet sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room.

⚘ he thinks face to face is a too personal.

⚘ and no matter how much he loves having sex with you, he’s not ready to open himself up to some things yet.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

⚘ he takes fucking your brains out to be a very serious matter.

⚘ he might make a sarcastic remark or a cruel joke here and there.

⚘ but don’t expect him to be lighthearted about it.

⚘ every word that comes out of this man’s mouth is dripping with sin.

⚘ he doesn’t have time to joke around when he’s too busy making your pussy twitch deliciously on his tongue.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

⚘ he’s surprisingly well groomed.

⚘ he says he doesn’t like when gets too unkempt, so he keeps it trimmed.

⚘ his pubes are the same charcoal black as the hair on his head.

⚘ same texture too but a bit softer.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

⚘ he’s not intimate at all, this is just sex for him.

⚘ he might slip up and for just a second you can see a softer look in his eyes when he thinks you can’t see him.

⚘ when he realized what he was doing he went a little harder on you than usual that day.

⚘ he wasn’t mad at you but more at himself.

⚘ in a different world maybe he’d be a more loving partner, kissing you all over and whispering sweet words or love and admiration.

⚘ but that is not the case, and in this world he’s still dabi.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

⚘ he doesn’t jack off often but when he does he’ll think of you.

⚘ won’t ever admit it but goddamn he has the best orgasms when he does.

⚘ and it gives him ideas on what he’ll do to you later.

⚘ but to be honest, he doesn’t see masturbation as a necessary thing and can go quite a while without doing it.

⚘ no nut november, who?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

⚘ what kinks doesn’t he have, is the real question.

⚘ deep-throating is his absolute favorite, he loves watching your swollen lips envelope around his cock.

⚘ spanking is one he’ll do quite often too, especially if you’ve been an absolute brat.

⚘ i’m not kidding, your ass will be so sore after that you won’t be able to sit for few days.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

⚘ he doesn’t have a preference.

⚘ if the need arises he’ll fuck you up against the wall in an empty alleyway if he wants to.

⚘ and it’s not like you’re complaining either.

⚘ but he would prefer a bed over anything else, he doesn’t like how cold it can be outside.

⚘ especially on his balls.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

⚘ nothing turns him on more than seeing you sitting there waiting for him so seductively.

⚘ he knows you want him he just wants you to show him how much.

⚘ he’s not used to getting this kind of attention with the way he looks so seeing you wanting him this badly will definitely turn him on.

⚘ he’ll take this with him to the grave, but he’s grateful he had someone to spend time with even if it was just sex.

⚘ and you mean a little more to him than most.

⚘ but you didn’t hear that from me.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⚘ he will admit that even he can go too far sometimes, he knows that.

⚘ and you know that, at least you should by now at the very least.

⚘ but even he has his limits.

⚘ nothing that is too gross or dehumanizing.

⚘ he still sees you as a person, and from his own past experiences he tries to remember that.

⚘ he would expect the same from you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

⚘ he prefers to receive, remember what i said about loving to cum on your face?

⚘ but if he goes down on you, just know that you’re special.

⚘ dabi just doesn’t give a fuck when it comes to sex, but when he’s actually trying to make you feel good then you know he likes you.

⚘ in his own twisted way, of course.

⚘ but that still won’t stop him from absolutely destroying you inside and out, no in fact, it just gives him more incentive to.

⚘ so if you want him to go a little easy on you, make sure to open that pretty mouth of yours nice and good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

⚘ two words: FAST and ROUGH.

⚘ do not expect anything less from him.

⚘ he’s the dominant one when you in this arrangement and he’s not going to give that up for no one.

⚘ not even for you.

⚘ he’s going to be fucking you so hard into the mattress until your absolutely screaming his name.

⚘ and be warned that if you’re being even the slightest bit bratty, he’s going to punish you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

⚘ he really likes them and sometimes even prefers them over regular sex.

⚘ just fair warning though, he’s not going to be gentle at all.

⚘ this will mostly be about getting him off, so if you don’t get much out of it that’s not his problem.

⚘ any feelings of guilt won’t stick around for long though, and if your a good girl he might even fuck you again that night.

⚘ just to how that while he may be a villain, he’s still looking out for you in his own way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

⚘ oh he loves to take risks.

⚘ he sees it as kind of pointless if there isn’t at least some risk involved.

⚘ he can’t help but love the way your eyes shrink in fear a little if his hand puts just a little too much pressure on your neck.

⚘ you know he wouldn’t actually kill you, at least not like this.

⚘ but the thought still lingers in the back of your mind...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

⚘ he can last a few an hour or two at most with how many rounds depending on how long the first was.

⚘ but it’s also important to note that while dabi loves to fuck you, he doesn’t want to spend all night having sex.

⚘ he’s fine going a couple rounds but when he’d done he’s done.

⚘ even if you didn’t get to finish or not.

⚘ but let’s not kid ourselves here, you most certainly did.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

⚘ be expected to be introduced to toys at some point if you guys continue to see each other.

⚘ he owns all kinds with every intention of pleasure and punishment.

⚘ noting gets him off more than watching your thighs quake around him as he fucks a vibrator into you.

⚘ but he’s quick to turn your pleasure into his own when he over-stimulates you until you’re on the verge of tears, your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re grasping onto the sheets underneath you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

⚘ it depends on his mood.

⚘ sometimes he wastes no time and just wants to bury himself into your tight cunt already.

⚘ other times, he’ll make you beg for his cock on your knees like a good girl.

⚘ you’ve got to earn it.

⚘ but don’t even think about teasing him, that’s one mistake you won’t ever make again.

⚘ trust me.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

⚘ he doesn’t make a lot of noise.

⚘ slight hisses and groans are expected, he doesn’t like to moan a lot.

⚘ but he does get nosier the closer he is to cumming.

⚘ he prefers to make you moan more than he ever will, it’s just so addicting to hear.

⚘ he’ll do whatever it takes to draw out those sweet, sweet noises from that sinful mouth of yours.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

⚘ the two of you have definitely done anal, i mean come on.

⚘ he already loves your ass as much as it is.

⚘ would definitely tell you to get on your hands and needs as he aligns himself with your hole.

⚘ he’d get the lube out of the side table and pour it over his cock, he’s not that cruel.

⚘ it feels so fucking good to him but whether or not you like it is a whole other story.

⚘ if you two have been seeing each other for a good time now he’d respect it if you didn’t want to do it again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

⚘ he’s a solid 6.1 inches, circumcised.

⚘ and jesus christ does he know how to fuck you with it.

⚘ would it be too much to say that you love his cock?

⚘ what am i saying, of course it wouldn't.

⚘ saying anything less would be a crime punishable by death.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

⚘ it surprisingly isn’t that high.

⚘ now don’t get me wrong, he loves to fuck you and will happily do so.

⚘ but like i said, sex isn’t a big deal to him.

⚘ if it were he’d have a bigger sex drive then he does now.

⚘ not to mention most people don’t want to have sex with someone who looks like he does, and he’s accepted that.

⚘ now that he’s found someone that does though his sex drive might increase more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

⚘ he’s not very quick to fall asleep.

⚘ more than likely he’ll go outside for a smoke after you’ve both finished.

⚘ or lie in bed and just get lost in his own thoughts, but sleeping isn’t on his mind that’s for sure.

⚘ he’ll be more likely to fall asleep if you’ve taken a lot out of him or if he was more rough than usual.

@cocoa-bitter @micchikari @cherrymyeon @tiaraowens @dane-1212 @tenaciousgothstudentauthor @kac-chowsballs @cockaimeruben @fandomwhoresblog @shoutosteakettle

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#dabi #dabi x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #BNHA Headcanons #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #mha headcanons

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addaellisplaysgames · 3 years

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((Just something inspired by the new Mysteries of the Lost Gold Trailer. Probably not canon-compliant and at least a little OOC. Luke x MC/ Raven x Rosa.))

WC: 1854

His Rosa was scrutinizing something from a market stall when he found her. Luke watched fondly for a while before softly tapping her and taking her hand, careful now to startle her. She rewarded him with a relaxed smile.

“Look, it’s seaweed!” She showed him the hair clip. At first he thought it was a regular poppy flower, carved out of wire and cloth. But as his Rosa had observed, the texture of the flower, the thin carved veins on the surface, and the way it was folded resembled red seaweed with small silk beads for stamens.

“I didn’t even know red seaweed looked so different,” she mused. “It must have taken a lot of effort to carve the flower like that.” She set the hair clip down and turns to him. “Did Adjudicator get in contact with the dealer?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied. “We’ll talk about the details later.” He pinned the hair clip on her, replacing the usual clip. “It’s cute. You should get it.”

“You always say that,” she said, but her cheeks blushed happily from his compliment.

“Well, you’re always cute.”

“You silly….”

“Excuse me storekeep, how much for the hair clip?”

———

Rifle. Check. Scope. Check. Ghille. Check. Wind. Check. Target…in sights.

Luke carefully tracked the man between his crosshairs as they walked to the meeting point. He looked up and could see Libra and Rosa standing a few feet away, calmly keeping the target in position. He hated that she was so close yet so far away, and he hated that she was in danger again. But he was proud of how calm and brave she was even facing off a notorious criminal who called himself the “God of Death.”

Luke returned his eye to the scope. In the National Security Bureau, snipers were sometimes called gods of death themselves, for being able to rain silent death from afar. He preferred his Sherlock Holmes moniker, but if being a God of Death was what it took to take down this criminal, then that’s what he would have to be.

Luke took a deep breath…And fired.

Luke’s heart jolted when the rifle went off. It wasn’t the recoil or even the dulled bang of the gun. It wasn’t even the prospect of killing another human, even if the shot had been lethal. But just as he’d fired, he could have sworn he’d seen a flash of familiar red through the crosshairs.

———

Artem Wing was having a very surreal day. Raven and Rosa flirting over a hair clip was nothing unusual, and neither was arguing with King or even Adjudicator agreeing to this whole ridiculous plan with a creepy smile. But the sunny beaches and clear waters seemed too idyllic to be hiding a gang of murderers. For the legend of gold to be poison…this whole paradisal island was built on poison and blood.

Still, setting the target up for a sniper’s bullet—even if it was simply a tranquilizing bullet—sounded awfully like an assassination to him. Artem was an attorney after all, a pillar of justice and legal operation. Due process wasn’t just a motto, it was a creed he solemnly swore by. But the dealer this time was a confirmed killer, and had already escaped justice multiple times. Taking him down by normal means was simply out of the option. And if Raven was as good as he was confident, if they got the right suspect immediately…then this could be over in one shot.

The meeting and conversation itself seemed to go smoothly. Too smoothly. It was like he was in a dream world, and he didn’t even have to think to say the right words to placate the dealer. As the interaction was wrapping up, his partner suddenly whispered to him. They had the wrong guy. This had been a set up—They had to let Raven know the right target right away before a potential innocent was hurt in the crossfire—

But when that one shot happened. Artem watched in slow motion as the supposed dealer was flung back, clutching his shoulder and screaming in shock. His partner collapsed on the ground. Her eyes squeezed shut. There was blood in her hair.

Next to her laid the tattered remains of the poppy hair clip. The tiny beads scattered like dark red grains of pepper sunk into the pristine sand. The carefully carved red seaweed folds were torn to mangled shreds of cloth, like another life sacrificed before the golden alter of the God of Death.

———

According to the plan, Artem would be doing most of the talking. She glanced around, noting the dealer’s bodyguards around the space.

The dealer seemed nervous, but that wasn’t itself unusual. They were attorneys after all, and anyone would be hesitant to talk to lawyers, regardless of how many times they had gotten away. But she studied how his too-casual crossed arms contradicted the fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves—which were a tad too long for a dealer that could more than afford to have every suit hand-tailored. Yet his head seemed unusually still, as though the hat on it was a crown. Hm…

She kept one ear on the conversation as she studied the bodyguards again surreptitiously. The dealer hesitated. And then she saw one bodyguard shift—his face barely moved, but his neck moved as though he were speaking. He stopped, and the dealer spoke again.

She suddenly remembered how the ex-con had said the dealer was particularly paranoid, and how he continued to avoid capture and death. Calling himself “God of Death”, he seduced his victims with golden poison, and commanded loyalty through fear and an antidote just out of reach. All who voiced complaint would mysteriously vanish….

The conversation was coming to a close. The dealer signaled for his bodyguards to leave, and she knew the way were running out of time. The suspicious bodyguard was turning around to leave, and she noticed he was slightly taller than the dealer. And his shoes—brand new boots, without a scratch.

“This is the wrong man,” she said quietly to Artem. “The real culprit—“

She held her hand up to reveal the decoy, and suspicion and alarm flashed through the fake dealer’s eyes. He dealer grabbed her, pulling her in front of him and shouting for Artem not to move, else he’d snap the pretty girl’s neck. But before anyone could do anything, an invisible force whistled past her head, throwing the fake dealer back. He howled, but all she felt was ringing in her ears and a forceful tug, like someone yanking her braids. The world around her turned black for a moment, and she found herself on the ground, covered in sand.

“The bodyguard!” She called out, pointing. She struggled to move but her legs felt like jelly and her head was spinning like she was thrown into a centrifuge. She tried calling out again, because Artem wasn’t looking—he was kneeling by her side, eyes blown wide with concern and fear. “The bodyguard is the real dealer! He’s getting away!”

The suspicious bodyguard was running without a backwards glance for his decoy, and the groups as quickly collapsing around him. She fought through the throbbing in her head to keep an eye on him. Marius was nearby, she knew, ready to be backup. Her fingers trembled on the phone. “King! The real dealer is reaching the road now, the one on the motorcycle—don’t let him get away!”

———

It was over. Marius had pulled some crazy motor-cross stunts and managed to take down the suspicious bodyguard. The police had arrived to take all involved into custody, and the decoy had joined them once the tranquilizer wore off. As obnoxious as the little brat was, Luke had to give Marius credit for understanding what happened and taking down the target before they could get away.

The real hero though, was perched on the couch talking to him. He handed her a cup of tea, and took the ice pack from her ankle. “Wasn’t this supposed to be for your head? Are you feeling that much better already?” He asked lightly.

Rosa simply nodded, sipping lightly on the tea. Luke had made sure it was cool just enough so she wouldn’t be dangerous even if she did spill it. “The ringing stopped a while ago. I think I twisted my ankle trying to run in the sand though.” She sat up straight. “Are you okay?”

Luke sighed self-deprecatingly. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? You’re the one that nearly got shot.”

She set the tea aside, cupping his cheeks to look her in the eye. “Dr. Ritcher said there doesn’t seem to be any damage, psychological or physical. I guess I was too focused on the case to realize I was nearly shot. You and Artem were the ones that had to watch.”

He nuzzled into her soft touch. “My heart nearly stopped,” he confessed. “He moved so suddenly. I thought I’d accommodated for that, but then I saw you fall….”

“But it was a tranquilizing dart, not a real bullet.”

“But he’s a much bigger person!” Luke exclaimed. “That dose might have been lethal for you. And it wasn’t supposed to be delivered to your head! And then…there was blood in your hair…I’m so sorry.”

His Watson—his brave and clever Watson—was undeterred. She patted him gently as she explained again. “It was just the decoy yanking my hair so suddenly and the sound of the dart so close that startled me. And it was his blood. I’m fine.” She smiled brightly, banishing the dark clouds that had been swirling around his heart with radiant confidence. “I never doubted you’d hit your target precisely. You’re my beloved Sherlock, right?”

He hugged her close, hoping he could shelter her from everything, even himself. “I’m yours.”

———

It had been a few days since they returned to Stellis. The bell of his antique store announced a visitor, and Peanut’s excited chirp announced his girlfriend. “In all the commotion after the case I forgot t give this to you,” she said, approaching the desk. She paused to hold out a finger to Peanut, who landed with a happy trill. “I thought your old keychain could use a well deserved break.”

Luke took the tissue-paper wrapped gift. It was a keychain of a distinctive detective’s hat and pipe, carved out of a seashell and coated in resin. “This was what you had gotten? I thought…I thought you’d gotten yourself a present.”

“A present for you is a present for me, silly,” she replied, entertaining Peanut with a toy. “Do you dislike it?”

“No, it’s amazing,” he said, immediately attaching the keychain to his camera. “Actually, I have a surprise for you too,” Luke said. He set a hair clip in front of her: gentle red cloth and wire, etched to look like red seaweed, but folded like a flower.

“The hair clip! You remade it?”

“Except this time as a rose,” he said shyly.

She pinned it to her hair immediately, twirling to show it off. “How is it?”

“Cute,” he said, wrapping his arms around her gently. “You’re always cute.”

“I think I like this one better,” she murmured against his chest. “You made it for me after all.”

“I do too. Truly, a rose represents you best.”

#tears of themis #luke x mc #luke pearce #artem wing

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

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Epilepsy HeadCannon - MLQC

*Some of my close friends suffer from epilepsy and I’ve been working with them over triggers and seizures for this piece. I answered this to the best of my ability from knowledge from friends and online research, everything may not be accurate. Please understand I attempted my best to do this the justice it deserved.*

Warning: Talks of seizures and triggers.

*Thank you to @shadowtsukiyo for your Lucien-ism and help*

Victor:

Mr.Mills was away on a family emergency for a couple of days meaning Victor had to go to the store to get the food he needed for Souvenir.

“Come on we’ll go, it will be fun!” You tugged at his hand, the scowl on his face at having to do his own shopping, “Oh wait let me get my bag for life!”.

The look on his face, the f- is a bag for life?

He took you to the fresh outdoor market to gather the supplies he needed, the only thing left on the list was meat.

Of course he went to a locally sourced organic butchers where the meat was stored in a large walk in refrigerator. You were hesitant to go in at first, the cold temperature was often a trigger for your epilepsy but you didn’t want to be a burden to Victor, hoping you would be in and out in a short amount of time.

But this was Victor Li.

He took his time examining everything to make sure it was of perfect texture, look and weight for his cooking.

You’d only been in the cold room for a few minutes but the slow tingling that burned in your fingertips quickly rose up your arms. The feeling of your stomach dropping and the sensation of tingling quickly heated up your body causing an almost cold sweat to tremble across your body.

“Bella?” Victor turning to face you after you didn’t reply to a comment he made, the panic in his eyes as he saw the colour flooding from your face. Your eyes were focused on a specific spot in the room, even though you was physically there your mind was at a total blank at the buzzing sensation taunted across your body.

The next thing you remembered was being held tightly in his Victor's arms in the basking sun outside the shop, his hand cradling your neck as he held you close to his chest. You weren't sure how much time had passed or what exactly had happened.

“Are you okay?” The soft worry in his voice as he felt you push yourself back weakly, looking up to meet his gaze, his purple eyes wide with alertness. You nodded meekly with a shallow swallow, the rapid thumping of your heartbeat slowing down.

“I-” You started but the tears built up, the softness of his lips pressing against your crown as he let you sob silently against his chest, no rush or pressure to explain.

He took you straight back to his house, tucking you in his bed as you slept for few hours whilst he stayed by your side and stroked your hair in a comforting manner.

When you awoke you found him sat at the edge of the bed with a bowl of pudding in his hands waiting for you.

You explained you had epilepsy, that you took regular medication to keep it under control but cold temperatures seemed to be a trigger.

“Dummy… why didn’t you tell me? You should have waited outside,” The softness in his voice as he pried the bowl out of your hands and wrapped his arms around you.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” You sighed into his chest, letting the warmth of his body elope you.

“Idiot…” The softness of his cheek rubbing against your forehead, “You are never a burden to me,”.

He held you close for the remainder of the day, whispering sweet words of love as you peacefully fell asleep against his chest.

Lucien

You and Lucien hadn’t been dating very long when he suggested a day out to the new exhibit at the butterfly sanctuary, he’d been given private access to it before it opened to the public.

“I’m so excited!” You squealed, fingers intertwined with Lucien's hand as he let out a small chuckle. The admiration on his face as he watched the smile radiate off your face, letting you pull him along playfully to reach the double doors faster.

“Mr.Mo, it’s pleasure,” An employee of the exhibit held out his hand, Lucien giving him a flash of that friendly smile as he extended his hand out to shake it.

“The exhibit is already so beautiful, although it’s beauty holds nothing compared to the beauty beside me,” The smoothness of his words sends your cheeks slightly pink.

“Well we are honoured to welcome you both to be the first people to see the new additions, if your follow me,” The employee laughed, guiding you both to a room with a wide screen and a row of chairs, “We just have a short video to play before you enter,”.

You both a seat, Lucien's arm wrapped around your shoulder as the employee stood at the back of the room, the pressing sound of a button and the screen came to life.

Sharp bursts of colours flooded the screen, several flashing lights above it and the next thing you saw was black.

Lucien instinctively grabbed you and held you close to his chest, blocking the array of flashing lights from your vision. He knew your epilepsy was triggered by flashing lights after you had a minor seizure when he was lending a hand on the set of miracle finder.

“Turn it off now,” His voice stern and in a raised manner, holding you close to him as he continued to shield you from the flickering colour of lights from the room. He refused to let you go until the room was still, silence lingering in the air.

“Are you okay?” His voice softer than normal, peeking down as he watched you nod against his chest.

“Yes,” You reassured him, he pulled you away in the nick of time, any longer and it would have caused a seizure.

The employee dashed over with a string of apologies, ‘The lights were not meant come on, I’m so sorry,’.

You slowly pulled from Lucien's chest and told him it was fine, accepting his apologies but Lucien wasn’t happy to accept.

“Will you bear with me,” Lucien taking your hands and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles but focusing his gaze on the employee.

You sat in the room awkwardly, you could hear the raised but not yelling voice of Lucien from outside in the corridor as he scolded the employee for such carelessness.

“Lucien, you really didn’t have to tell him off,” You pouted as you took a bite of the ice-cream in your hands. He let out a sigh and shook his head.

He refused to stay a second longer at the exhibit after his talk with the employee, insisting you go and rest in fear of a seizure coming but you reassured him you were fine. Instead he took you to a quiet park where you found yourselves resting under a fern tree with ice-cream as you between his legs, your head resting against his chest.

“My silly fool,” He sighed, wrapping his free arm around your waist. "Your health, your safety come above all else. Just because those..." A cold look crossed his face before softening, "just because they're inadequate in their training, does not mean you or anyone else should suffer. Let me take care of you, silly girl.

Kiro:

“Miss.Chips please you have to come!” Kiro continued to plea through the phone to you.

“Okay, okay, fine! Let me just re-organise the day and I’ll be over okay?”.

“You're the best Miss.Chips, I knew I could count on you!” The over-excited squeal on the other side of the call.

“You owe me a great show superstar!” You laughed, eyes focusing on your screen as you dragged the scheduled work for today into different sections of your calendar, freeing up your day.

“I will, I promise! I’ll never let my number one fan down! Oh I gotta run, Savin is looking for me, I’ll see you soon!” The clicking button of the call ending rang through your phone. You shook your head with a smile, Kiro being just as chaotic as ever.

You’d left work early, luckily with the little work you actually had going on right now it meant you could get off early without disrupting the rest of your week. Kiro had personally invited you to a private view of his newest album and a special surprise, knowing Kiro it would most likely be a new food or snack he’d discovered.

Kiro’s studio was located outside of town, a quick trip in a taxi and you found yourself standing outside the doors.

“Heya Bella! Kiro said you was coming, he’s in the usual room,” The security guard, Hank, giving you a friendly smile and wave which you mirrored before walking down the corridor. You weren't even close to the room and you could already hear the bickering between Kiro and Savin.

“But it’s lunch and I’m hungry!”.

“Kiro! You’ve already eaten lunch,”.

“It wasn’t lunch, it was a snack,”.

“A sharing bucket of chicken is not a snack Kiro,”.

“Your just jealous because I didn’t share it with you!”.

“Kiro, the only person you shared it with is your left and right hand!”.

You let out a burst of laughter as you pushed open the door, Kiro stropping in the corner with his back turned to Savin.

“He’s right you know, a share bucket is for like four people,” You chime in, Kiro turning instantly at your voice, “Although one hungry Kiro equates to four people,”.

“Hey!” He protests, running across the room and scooping you into his arms as he twirls you around with a tight embrace, “You're so mean Miss.Chips”. The pair of you giggled as he finally put you down, leaning up you placed a sweet kiss to his cheek. Kiro, international super star who could charm millions of their feet, still blushed at your affection actions.

“Come on, I promised you a surprise!” He takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as he leads you to an empty theatre room, a stage set up with a microphone. He led you to a set right in front of the stage and gestured you to sit down before jumping onto the stage and running to the side.

“I hope you're ready for a Kiro special Miss.Chips!” He pressed a button on the side of the stage, music began blasting out of the speaker as the lights in the room dimmed. He ran back to the center, grabbing the microphone as he began to sing but you were unable to hear the words. The flash of the strobe lights flitted across the room, you covered your eyes to block it but it was too late.

You cried out to Kiro, every nerve inside your hands set alight that spread like wildfire up your arms. The recognisable sensation of tense and fear dropping into your stomach as you slumped against the chair. The last thing you saw was Kiro screaming out for Savin as he dashed to your side before it went dark.

You awoke to a team of people around you, Kiro to the side of you clutching your hand with fear in his eyes. You had no idea where you were or what had happened but the reassuring squeezes from Kiro made you feel a little safer.

You were laid across the floor as someone helped you to sip water from a straw, your body feeling it had been hit by a ton of bricks as your muscles inside you throbbed. Kiro profoundly apologised over and over until his voice went hoarse.

“Kiro, please it’s fine you didn’t know,” You squeezed his hand, finally able to sit up as the people around you backed off to give you space.

You explained to him how at concerts you was normally back stage therefore the lights weren’t really a trigger stimulant then, but when you was up close to them thats when they affected you.

“I’m also really sorry about your necklace,” He sighed, the chain that you wore around your neck had been ripped off and lay broken in his hands.

“It’s okay, I needed a new one anyway,” You laughed lightly, you stopped buying expensive necklaces after your favourite one was yanked and broken when you had a seizure as a teenager.

“Well here,” He reached around his neck and took off the silver chain with a cross on it and placed it over your neck, reaching behind and fastening it up, “As an apology,”.

“Kiro I-,” Your fingertips reach up to feel the cold metal against them.

“So that I’m always with you,” He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles before scooping you off the floor and into his arms, carrying you into the room from earlier and resting you onto the plush sofa, “Rest here,”. He hummed to you softly, stroking your hair as you left yourself rest, falling into a restful slumber.

Gavin:

Work in words had become a nightmare. Each day a new problem seemed to be added on top of another and by Wednesday you were on the verge of breaking down.

It didn’t help upon your never ending pile of work that Victor was breathing down your neck every five minutes, demanding consistent updates on your progress.

You sat at your desk, fingers digging into your temples as you let out a small cry, everything feeling like it coming on top of you. Every-time your phone pinged you feared to look at it, knowing it was either Victor or someone from the team trying to get a hold of you.

You let out a sigh of relief to see it was Gavin, ‘Just checking on you pumpkin’.

‘I’m okay! How are you doing?’

‘Have you eaten?’.

‘Yes :)’ - a complete lie, you’d not even properly in two days.

‘Are you in the office?’.

‘Yes, I think I’ll be home late again’.

The three dots appeared on your phone before stopping, Gavin was clearly just as busy as you were.

You pulled yourself away from your phone before continuing on your screen, getting lost in a document which seemed to never end until a familiar scent of cedar-wood and pine filled your nose. With a smile you turned in your chair to see Gavin walking across the room, a bag which you knew was filled with food in his hand.

“Hey you!” You got up and flung your arms around his neck, the warmth of him embracing you as he hugged you. He placed a kiss to your temple as he set the bag on your desk, leaning over you as you sat back down in your chair.

He could sense you were stressed, the gentleness of his hands as he rubbed your shoulder telling you take a break and not to over-work yourself.

“When did you last sleep?” He asked, the last few nights he’d been working night shifts meaning he wasn’t home when you got back.

“Um… I got a few hours last night,” You yawned, you could never sleep when you were stressed, especially when it was over work. He sighed in response, without even looking you knew the expression on his face, brows tightly knitted together.

“You need to look after yourself better,”.

“Says you!” You turned around and playfully pushed his shoulder but he didn’t laugh, concern all over his face.

He went to open his mouth but the words of another filled the office.

“So this is why my report is late,”. Victor.

“Mr. Li!” You panicked, quickly getting up from your chair to see Victor pacing the office with a scowl on his face.

“I expect to see the people I invest in working, not indulging in social activities,” He sighed, eyes glaring at Gavin.

“I’m sorry, I’m almost finished! I just have a lot going on the minute,” You meekly replied, bowing your head in almost shame as he tutted.

“I knew investing in this company was a waste of time,” The sharpness of his words made your stomach drop. You were already stressed as it was, you didn’t need Victor threatening to pull from your company to add to it.

“Back off! You can see she’s stressed,” Gavin stepped in front of you protectively. The glare between the two of them, the words shared between them failed to reach your ears.

Your heart began to race in your chest as you felt your palms begin to tingle with a cold sweat, the weight of the world feeling as if it was beginning to collapse in on you.

“Gave!” You meekly called out, the feeling you knew far too well to be more than just a panic attack.

Lightheadedness took over as your knees buckled from under you, the prickling sensation of your nerves set on fire began to trail across your body as you fell to the floor. The rapid pounding of your heart felt like it would almost burst from your chest before you lost consciousness.

Gavin shoved Victor out the way, freeing the area around you by throwing the office chairs across the room as he knelt beside you. He managed to free the choker from your neck, tossing it somewhere as he took your hand, ‘Call a first aider’ he yelled over his shoulder to Victor. Gavin refused to take his eyes off you, watching you with every moment.

He knew you were prone to seizures, ever since that day in high school when you had one during an exam, knowing stress was a huge triggering factor.

He held your hand tight but kept a distance to not restrict you or your movements, keeping by your side as he felt fear like no other took over him. He swore to protect you, to keep you safe and yet watching you motionless on the floor he felt like a failure.

By the time a first aider had arrived you’d slowly regained consciousness, eyes slowly fluttering open but shutting again from the intensity of the lights.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Gavin softly cooed, stroking your hand with reassurance.

“This is your fault,” He turned to hiss at Victor who stood by dumbfounded at the events in front of him.

You felt weak when you were finally able to open your eyes, a mild thudding in your head as you tried to sit up, trying to piece together what had happened.

Gavin sat patiently by your side as the first-aider gave you a strong once over, bringing a bottle of water to your lips and helping you to take a few sips.

“I’m sorry....” You whispered with a collection of tears in your eyes as you peered up to Gavin, now holding you in his arms.

“Don’t you dare apologise,” He whispered, holding you a little tighter with his words, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,”. You slumped against him, the feeling of your legs slowly coming back to you but Gavin refused to let you go, holding you bridal style as he stood. “I’m taking you home”.

“But- my work,” You weakly protested.

“Go. Take the rest of the week off, I’ll find Anna,” Victor stepping into your conversation, his face still stern but there was a softness in his eyes. Gavin nodded and without a word carried you out of the building before flying you home, never leaving your side for the next few days.

When you returned to work, the stress of everything had seemed to have faded away. The calls from Victor over your work dialed down significantly and the workload seemed to be less intense than usual.

Maybe Victor had a softer heart than he let on.

Shaw:

“Come on princess, just one drink,” Shaw continued his protest as you sighed.

“Okay, just one,”.

Just one, turned into many more.

The atmosphere on the live house began to die down, leaving you and Shaw alone at the bar with your drinks. Normally you wouldn’t have been so easily swayed to stay but the fleeting look of Shaw when you had stood to leave kept you staying.

With your epilepsy you knew better than to drink, only keeping to a maximum of two but it had been so long since your last seizure you wasn’t overly worried.

“Another round, same again?” Shaw signaled to you but you shook your head and raised your hand.

“I can’t,”.

“Just one more, please,” He pouted, I mean how can you say no that him.

“I’ll just have a water,”.

“A water? Really?” He teased leaning in a little close to you.

“I have to be careful,”.

“Careful?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow to you, “Are you up the duff or something?”. You tutted and rolled your eyes, slapping his arm playfully.

“I have epilepsy,”.

He looked at you a little taken back.

“Tell me you know what it is, or is that too big of an eight letter word for you to know,” You laughed watching the bashful blush on his face as he tutted, “I know what it is idiot,”.

A slight silence fell between you.

“So what, you drink too much and it causes you to have a fit?” A genuine question from the lavender haired boy.

“Sorta, it’s different for everyone, I know my limit after last time,” The thoughts of your last seizure when you were university from drinking too much send shivers down your spine, “I just monitor what I drink and if I start to feel funny I stop,”.

“What about lights and stuff, like the stage lights?”.

“Depends, the ones here don’t flash so it’s okay for periods of time,” You smile, taking a sip of the water the bar-tender placed in front of you as Shaw took a sip of his beer.

“Oh, so is that you haven’t been down to see my band play,” He smirked, causing you to roll your eyes again.

“I mean maybe if you tried asking me to come watch you play instead of indirect hints I would have you know,” You pressed a finger to his chest with a giggle.

“You would?” He smiled before hiding it with his normal demeanour.

“Of course, I do have good taste in music,” You cradle the water close to your lips, “I’ve heard the bass guitarist is really cute as well,”. Your eyes watch the blush rise of his cheeks as he chokes a little on the air, you loved throwing a little curve ball to him every now and then with a subtle flirt.

“Anyway, I should get going, it’s late,” You rest the glass on the side, standing up and getting your back. Shaw stands up, throwing a few notes onto the bar as he follows you out.

“You need something?” You ask, slightly confused as he walks beside you.

“Can’t be letting you walk home alone, it’s not safe for you to be on your own,”.

“I’m a big girl Shaw, I think I can manage the ten minute walk,”.

“Yeah, well… shut up,” He huffs and takes your hand in his, “Just to make sure you don’t wander off or anything,”. The gesture warming your heart as you felt his thumb stroking over yours.

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc headcanon #sfw #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc kiro #mlqc gavin #mlqc shaw #mr love li zeyan #mr love xu mo #mr love zhou qiluo #mr love bai qi #mr love ling xiao #mr love mobile

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commander-isekai · 3 years

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Commander Isekai - commander from an another world

A/N:

Hi all! This my tongue-in-cheek fic about a commander, who’s actually a human player from the real world, and who now lives through the game, but armed with previous knowledge about it. They aren’t happy just to follow along a story, so things will get different quickly enough. Hence their name is commander Kai, as a pun from the isekai genre. I’ve been inspired by similar fics done about other games, and I thought gw2 could be a fun one too.

Chapter One:

The Second Awakening or how I found myself in a video game world

Sometimes, all you can remember is falling. It was the only sensation I could comprehend. The world around me was a blurry, like a messy watercolor painting. If there were any noises, I couldn't hear them. I just fell.

A painfully bright light drilled into my eyes.

I woke up with a great thump, as I landed into a large pile of dry leaves. They managed to soften my landing to a degree, but I was aching from all over, like if I had rolled downhill like a cheese in a cheese-wheeling competition, determined to win the first place no matter how crumbly my state would be at the finish line.

"This fucking sucks.." I groaned, tossing my arm out and trying to find my glasses, or my phone, but only grasped more leaves. I hoped I hadn’t broken either one during my fall.

"Are you alright, Valiant?" I heard a concerned voice ask, "the awakening can be sometimes rough, but you'll find your bearings soon enough."

Oh no, had I fallen asleep outside? I had a bad habit of dozing off, but the embarrassment of sleeping outside and this kind person having to wake me up made me wish I could knock myself out permanently rather than face them.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sorry about this, just give me a minute..." I tried to form coherent sentences while pushing my hair away, but my hand gathered only more leaves? and no hair??

I pulled my hand in front of my face and yelped in surprise when I saw that it was bright lavender, a color that my regular human hands should not be, and that I was grasping purple and pink ferns instead of my regular colored human hair.

"Wh-what the hell is going on?" I looked at myself and the person helping me, and only then I realized they weren't human either, but a pea-green person who seemed to be made out of plant material and flowers. Behind them, I could see a shimmering lake and a small village, with more denizens similar to them and me.

As I gasped upon the scene, the two braincells inside my skull finally hit a nerve and made the connection that I had been missing:

A) Somehow, I was in Caledon Forest. Like, the starting zone in Guild Wars 2, an MMO I used to play lot back in the day until I got too busy with my life and other video games.

B) Also somehow, I wasn't a human anymore. I was a walking, talking, internally-panicking sylvari.

C) Last but not least, I could see everything clearly without glasses. This fact stressed me out the most. Had my vision somehow been fixed when I fell? I did like my old glasses, and really hoped they were in one piece somewhere.

"Are you feeling enough well to stand?" the sylvari that must be a mender asked me, offering a hand that I gladly took as I wobbled onto my feet like a newborn calf.

“I think I am?” I answered hesitantly, not certain if I’d stay upright after she’d let go of me.

" I am mender Lorean. What's your name?" the sylvari asked me.

" Um, Kai" I said, as the first name in my mind was the name of my commander character, "short of Cainneach, but just Kai is fine."

It didn't feel right to introduce myself with my given human name, as it was definitely not a sylvari name, and that would have revealed me being something else than your regular baby sprout. I really wasn't married to that name anyway, so Kai came out naturally. I had already used Kai as a all-around nickname, so I settled into it like putting on a new, yet surprisingly comfortable shirt.

"Alright, Valiant Kai", seeing as I could hold on my own against the gravity, Lorean let go of my hand, and explained: "Now, it can take some time to get used to the world outside the Dream. You shouldn't wander off too far from the Grove, at least not until you're experienced enough. You should find anything you need inside the city, and the mentors will help you along. Caithe also asked me to tell you that she wants to speak with you, when you are ready."

The mender that helped me did not seem to comment on my errantic behaviour - they must have seen a wild variety of saplings in their time.

"Wait, why do you keep calling me a valiant?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around what I could remember about Caithe. The total sum was not much - an assassin with a troubled past: a guild of heroes that basically cut ties after a failed dragon killing quest and ex-girlfriend who's in the lead of the bad Nightmare sylvari. That'd be a lot for anyone.

"Caithe told me, about how you joined forces with her to defeat the a large nightmare beast in the Dream. That must be a sign of a great Wyld Hunt", Lorean explained, and asked curiously: "don't you remember the Dream?"

Oh right. The Dream, or the tutorial part with the big dragon monster. I somehow completely skipped that in this new, 4D-supported version of Tyria. At least I did not remember experiencing anything resembling fighting a giant dragon to death, not after waking up here. I had an inkling that telling so would only raise more questions, and I had plenty of those myself.

"Oh yes, it's all coming back to me", I lied with a practiced straight face, "I must have just hit my head hard when I awoke, that's all. I'll be on my way now, thanks!"

I waved and nearly dashed to an exit before Lorean could respond. They were being just nice, sure, but I needed a moment for myself with no one else right now, or I would explode on the spot.

'''

Not far from the village, but enough far that no one would hopefully bother me, I made my way to the large pond, to really take in all the changes.

"Oh no, the fireflies are actually that big", I grimaced when I saw a group of the flying creatures gather around one of the light-giving plants, "That's going to take some time getting used to."

I sat down next to the water's edge, and I could finally take a look at my new features. They were nothing like what I'd been used to - instead of soft skin, my face was hard, bark-like texture. My hair was like plant's leaf, yet sturdier - it hurt when I tried to pull it. My form was different too, almost like I had had a second puberty without knowing it - my limbs were taller than what I had been used to, and I felt my presentation was more masculine than what it had been when I was human.

The more I sat and contemplated my situation, everything around me seemed to make no sense. I was stuck in an unfamiliar body, in the role of the main character of a video game, and while I did not remember every detail of what happened in the story, I knew it wouldn't take long for things to get hairy. Why I was here? Why did I look like this? No matter how I tried to rationalize it, I had no answers, and I was only left with piling up frustration, and tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.

“Hey, are you alright?” A new voice dragged me out of my depths. It belonged to a blue sylvari with a mushroom-capped head, and whose leaf-like outfit seemed to grow naturally as a part of their body.

“I don’t know, it’s just - a lot of stuff to process. The whole awakening, and everything”, I told them as honestly as I could.

“You seemed to be a little more lost than the other sprouts - and I do not mean that in a judgmental way”, the sylvari said and hold out something: “here, take this, it will help.”

“Oh, thank you”, I accepted the carved bowl that seemed to be made out of a giant nut, and the gentle smell of pumpkin soup overwhelmed me. Gods, I realized only now how starved I felt, like I had not eaten properly for days.

“I don’t have any money, or gold-” I tried to say, but the other sylvari cut in quickly:

“Do not worry about it! I hope you have a pleasant evening!”

The sylvari took off, and I was too mesmerized by their kindness towards a random stranger like me that it did not even occur to me to ask their name. The soup, still warm in my hands was a temptation too great to resist, and I wasted no time devouring it.

Maybe this world isn’t too bad after all, if people are gifting food freely to others like that, I thought to myself, earlier anguish almost completely forgotten.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #yes the player is like free soup free gender? yes please

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vintagesimstress · 4 years

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VI c. UV_1

(Previous: Changing the texture displayed in Blender)

As mentioned before, the uv_1 map plays a very different role than uv_0: it tells the game where certain parts of your mesh are located, so that the whole thing could move with sliders. It seems many people struggle with it a lot – and to be honest, I have no idea why, as in my experience uv_1 has always been totally unproblematic. Hopefully you'll share my feelings on this!

Let's click once again the little triangle on the right ('Data') and choose 'uv_1' this time.

As you can see, the texture on the model turned very weird – and it'll stay this way, as that map is not meant for texturing. You can as well change to solid shading, if you find that craziness spooky or annoying.

If you switch to edit mode, you'll see that the map looks just as crazy:

UV_1 uses a completely different type of template. It differs very slightly depending on age and gender of your sim; the adult female one looks like this:

You can download all the versions from S4S forum, in HERE (I highly suggest you make some kind of 'Basics' folder for all those things which you'll keep reusing!)

Once you have downloaded it, click 'Image' and then 'Open image'. It works exactly the same as in case of uv_0. Now it should look like this:

You can see that your vertices are twice wider than the template. I'm not sure why the template has been made in this way instead of getting adjusted to the TS4 requirements, but that's what we have to work with. Select all the vertices (a), press s, then x, then type 0.5 and press enter. Do not move your mouse! Your uv map should be twice narrower now:

We still have to move it, so that it'd align with the template. Select all again, this time press g, x and type 512. That's exactly the number of pixels you need to move your mesh to the right. Now it should finally look correct.

Just like in case of uv_0, the top part is completely done, so the only thing we have to do is unwrap the skirt. This time the only valid methods for doing it are no. 1 and 2 (see: VI a), namely moving the lines manually or using cylinder projection. As at this point making manual adjustments would be too cumbersome, we're going to use option no. 2.

Select the lowest line of vertices to select your whole skirt, go to front view this time (num 1) and choose cylinder projection.

Move the newly unwrapped faces up or down (g, y), to the black area, so that you could properly see them.

You can see that my dress got unwrapped a bit unevenly – there are small 'steps' on the sides. I highlighted all the faces which should form the left edge. Now I'll move the highlighted parts on the right to the left, and the non-highlighted parts on the left to the right, and then it should all look and work fine.

Tip: you can also move them precisely into the right place by typing g, x, 1024 (to move to the right) or g, x, -1024 (to move to the left)!

The weird part at the bottom is the closing circle; you can select the central vertex (which is here doubled on the sides), weld it and move it down, to more or less align it with the lowest row. Or simply wait with closing your dress until you're done with uv_1 ;). The bigger problem is that step my dress still has at the top. I'll select all the vertices below it and just very gently move them along the x axis to the left. Now, that looks better:

And now, just as we did before, we have to connect the skirt with the top. It's a bit trickier than in case of uv_0, because you can't do it in one piece: your mesh has to be split along the back and both sides. Take a look at the top mesh. Let's start from the left: click the rightmost face and then, in 3D view, the faces right underneath it. This will tell you where your skirt should be split.

I'll deselect the face of the top, select the whole part of the skirt left from the selection and then move it to the left (g, x), separating it from the central part.

That weird line at the bottom is the closing circle again – I'll delete it and redo it afterwards, it'll really be easier.

Repeat the same steps for the part on the right.

The edges of those three parts should be, if possible, straight. Mine aren't. To be able to adjust them, I'll select the edges and temporarily split them (ctrl + e, in 3D view). Select a vertex or two above as well, or the uppermost one won't get split!

(If you're having problems with selecting edges, it might be smart to select the whole skirt (not the top!) and change it back from tris to quads (alt + j). Then you can easily select edges by clicking them while holding alt).

Split also the top row of vertices, to separate the skirt from the top. Just for a second.

Now select a whole edge, press w and choose 'Align X'

Repeat for the remaining edges. If you want to and feel that it's needed, you can also straighten other lines in your mesh.

Now it's finally the time to put it in the right place. Select the skirt and move it up (g, y).

One can immediately see that it's way too tall. Scale it along the y axis until it looks more reasonable. It should start at the lowest line of the top and end a bit above the feet. Nothing big will happen if it covers them, but it has to fit inside the picture!

And now just scale and move each of the 3 parts individually, along the x axis, to match them with the top.

The only thing left to do is to weld the vertices. It's unlucky that we separated the skirt from the top; now we have to select all, remove doubles and then once again split the side edges to be able to weld everything properly. Just like with uv_0: select a vertex, press w and choose 'weld' from the drop-down menu. Repeat for aaaaaall the vertices connecting the skirt with the top.

Sometimes the vertices can be quite far away from each other. Is it still safe to weld them? I'd say risk it. If you see some weird stuff happening in game when changing your sim's body type, you'll know you have to fine tune it: straighten some lines, make them more regular etc. However, chances are quite high that it won't matter at all.

Select all and remove doubles. Yes, again (I keep doing it all the time, that's probably why I love the edge split modifier so much).

And now a very important, final step that I usually forget about: you have to revert the moving and scaling changes you made at the very beginning. Select all and press g, x, -512 to move it back into position, and then s, x, 2, to make it twice wider again. Otherwise TS4 will get quite perplexed with your mesh (and so will you, seeing everything being weirdly deformed and moving with all the wrong sliders)!

As you see, it's not very difficult and once you get a grip of it, you can do it in no time. To be honest, 90% of the time I don't even do the whole scaling and moving thing; I just open the picture, to know where the feet are, and adjust the rest to the top. UV_1 is really not that bad, at least as long as you don't have to deal with the upper body half.

Here are just a couple of general, closing remarks which I'd like to share:

If you move any vertices of the top, immediately move them on the uv_1 map as well. I try to avoid it at all costs, but sometimes I can't resist making just one teeny tiny adjustment... Arms are usually not a problem, neck can get problematic, and breast area is an absolute nightmare. I already mentioned it once, but honestly, better dissolve vertices and cut new edges with the knife tool than move anything in there.

If you're frankenmeshing, remember to weld any vertices you merged in 3D view! If your mesh is getting split in game when you move any sliders, that probably means you didn't connect those parts on the uv_1 map (or that it's vertex paint... but that's another story).

Of course, if you added any other parts to your mesh than just a skirt – or if you frankenmeshed a thing, but changed its location, e.g. took a hair ribbon and put it on the skirt – you have to put it in the right place as well! In case of frankenmeshing you just have to change its location on the map; if you made it yourself, you'll have to experiment with different types of unwrapping first (pssst, projecting from view usually isn't a bad idea).

There are also certain cases - rarely, but still - when it might be a better idea not to properly unwrap a part of the mesh, but weld it all together to a little dot and put it in the right place on the uv_1. The first example which comes to my mind are 3D buttons. I always weld each button to a single dot, so that it’d be changing its size evenly, without deformations. However, this comes at a prize of an increased risk of clipping.

And finally: if you're having big problems with uv_1 and my method doesn't work for you – or if you made your mesh completely from scratch, so you don't have an unwrapped top – you can always make a data transfer, copying uv_1 data from another mesh. I won't elaborate on this one, because Teanmoon already explained it all in her amazing tutorial, which you can find HERE. Scroll down a bit until you see 'UV-1 Transfers'. I think I used it myself once or twice in the past and I was quite pleased with the results :).

***

Once again, I'm sorry both for how long you had to wait for this tutorial and for its final length. I swear I intended it to be a simple, concise explanation ^^. I hope that at least it's all clear and will help you avoid any problems with uvs. Please tell me if you have any questions or if something doesn't work for you – really, I mean it! Half of my inspiration for this tutorial comes from me watching other simmers struggle with making their first pieces of CC, as it helps me notice what hasn't been explained yet.

From now on we'll be moving into the dangerous territory of clones, cuts, regions, bones and weights, and I need some time to figure out how to divide this whole topic into sensible parts. It's not even that hard, but very interconnected, and that makes it difficult to tackle – as covering it all in one part is absolutely out of the question. Please have some patience with me and stay tuned!

#tutorial #blender #blender 2.79 #uv_1 #uv_1 tutorial

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years

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Raphael and madzie!! please I will sell you my firstborn for some Raphael and madzie content. Like him babysitting and sleepovers and playing dress up and watching Disney movies together. Raphael wearing this tiara and him and madzie playing together. Baking and singing together, going on trips to the park together and Raphael just being so happy.-

-Like if you think about it they are technically cousins🤔 with the whole found family thing, Catarina and Magnus are siblings Raphael is Magnus’ son ergo madzie and Raphael are cousins but they still think of each other as siblings. Raphael is her big brother! Please🥺

ok anon i hope you know that you are literally my new favorite person in the whole wide world and this ask is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i will literally never shut the fuck up about raphael and madzie i will make this brotp a thing if it KILLS me just you watch

idk if id say they are technically cousins because i don’t know if catarina and magnus consider themselves siblings - definitely family for sure, but i get the feeling it’s more of a “generic” family feeling rather than a Specific Dynamic you know? but either way this is found family so it’s not like family tree/architecture is actually that stiff and matters that much, RAPHAEL IS MADZIE’S BIG BRO idc

and it’s literally canon that raphael is the best, most thoughtful, caring and dedicated older brother so like!!! honestly it’s what madzie deserves. she has a wonderful mom (two if you subscribe to dotarina raising madzie together <3) and underful uncles and a wonderful brother who is always on her side and would do anything for her, and that! is! fantastic!

especially because like madzie is implied to be used to big families, since iris was going around making an army of warlocks basically lmao and like of course that was an abusive family dynamic but the point is that she was used to having siblings. but she was also implied to be the eldest and now she is the youngest! and she gets to have a nice big bro who takes care of her and plays with her and has her as a priority and i just 🥺🥺🥺

and god not to be a slut for raphael and rosa but i picture raphael just telling madzie all that he could about rosa?? you know??? he’s all like “you have an older sister too, you know? it’s a shame you never got to meet” and madzie kind of tilts her head and asks him to tell her about it. so raphael does. he sits down with her and shows her pictures of the both of them together from their childhood up until her death, and he tells her all the stories he possibly can. he says, “she would have loved you just as much as me. she always wanted to be someone’s older sister. said she wanted to take care of them like i take care of her” and madzie is all like “she sounds sweet. i wanted to know her, too” and raphael tears up slightly and he’s like “yeah. yeah. me too, cariño” and she hugs him

and like not to slut over this but i like to think that raphael teaches madzie about the monarch butterflies and día de los muertos and one day they are playing outside and a monarch lands on madzie?? and madzie calls it “rosa” and the butterfly is just flying over her head, alternating between her and raphael, for the whole afternoon? and raphael chokes up. fuck it all the legends are true, i love this alright

just like.... obviously raphael’s relationship with madzie is not some kind of substitute for his relationship with rosa, because madzie deserves better than that and no one can be rosa but rosa. raphael loves madzie for madzie, because she is sweet but fierce, extremely intelligent and with a playful/slightly mischievous (in a good way) side that is slowly blooming as time goes by and she heals from her abuse more and more. she is also good, endlessly caring, kind, compassionate, imaginative, affectionate. madzie is madzie and that’s all she needs to be. but the idea that raphael has someone to share rosa with, even if madzie obviously doesn’t feel about her the same way raphael did as they never met, but to bring her into this new family in a way... and let madzie knows that she also has another sibling looking out for her, even if from another plane... that’s nice and good food okay. and i think madzie would want to know about her, just like she tells raphael about her other siblings from when she lived with iris, even if they never got to be too close (cuz i doubt iris would risk letting them become very close and eventually realize her abuse and possibly rebel against her)

maybe it’s madzie herself who brings it up, she asks raphael about the pictures in his home or about his “ave rosa” plaque 🥺 and he tells her about it and makes sure that she knows that he doesn’t love rosa more or less than he does madzie, just differently. they are both his little sisters no matter what

anyway! onto more rapha&madzie focused headcanons. first of all you are so correct about playing dress up and shit, raphael is a SIMP and a sucker for his lil sis so he absolutely will wear a tiara if she asks no questions asked. simon sees it one time and he doesn’t even consider making fun of him because raphael shoots him a glare that absolutely reads as “i double dare you, motherfucker”. not because uwu girly stuff just because he has this whole serious vibe and there he is with a tiara and tiny braids. we stan

also look i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, raphael absolutely learns how to handle black/kinky hair for madzie. he was used to doing rosa’s hair but that was very likely straight or just wavy hair. madzie’s hair texture is different and raphael makes it a point to learn everything he can about how to take care of it and make hairstyles that she might like and won’t hurt her, okay? and yes i know that madzie straightens her hair but i like to think that over time she stops. i kinda headcanon that one of the reasons she did it was to look closer to iris, plus just the fact that as a white abuser i doubt she exactly planted it on madzie to love her natural hair. but over time living with catarina and being closer to a mostly-poc family and seeing maia and other beautiful black women with their natural hair and/or afro hairstyles, she stops straightening it, and everyone encourages her, raphael included. he even uses that, like, “i’ve been learning how to do these hairstyles for you, you know” and he shows her some and she gets so excited about trying them and it’s great

(initially he has catarina’s supervision, because again black hair is important and even if raphael is a moc he’s still nonblack. but catarina trusts him and he’s always so careful and makes sure to always listen to what she says, asks questions and all but takes notes lmao, so it works)

and baking!!! i mean look madzie is gonna be naturally prone to liking to bake, as a warlock and shit. and if regular kids already play with making potions, warlock kids are definitely even worse, especially because she does see catarina, dot, and magnus doing that all the time so it’s one of the things that she likes to mimick. and baking is basically potion making but edible and solid lmao. but like she loves it, mixing the batter, adding sprinkles, seeing as the textures change and the taste builds and stuff like that, you know? she’s definitely fascinated by it especially because she does it without magic and it’s just, wow, so cool to her?? and raphael as the cook that he is is more than happy to teach her, bake with her, and see her enthusiasm. raphael with oven mitts taking a batch of cookies out of the oven yall. i need a second

and like i absolutely subscribe to genius madzie because LOOK that girl is endlessly fucking smart and so intelligent especially for her age, not to mention powerful and observant and just, she’s brilliant. and with both catarina and magnus, huge nerd extraordinaires, and possibly maia because i like to pepper in the fact that maia and raphael are dating, she gets all the incentive she could possibly want to want to learn about both mundane science and magical theory

but in short like! raphael getting her those chemistry sets for kids, you know? where you have some recipes and you can mix up ingredients and they change color or otherwise change and shit? my friend had one of those when we were kids and my god i loved it so much, i was just fascinated. i think madzie definitely would love it, and raphael knows that she will, so he takes a whole day off for when he brings her this gift because he knows they will be playing all afternoon. and they do! she’s super excited about it and raphael as usual is all careful and teaching her how to do it properly without spilling and taking the measures appropriately and stuff. and it’s super sweet

initially they follow the recipes and raphael’s autistic ass is just delighted to do that, but madzie quickly starts doing some #improv, and again, because she is a genius, she quickly starts to figure out what each substance does. so she’s texting theories, trying out experimenting, seeing if she’s right, trying to asses her work? you know? basically literally a mini scientist using the scientific method and stuff and raphael is so proud of her and in awe of how smart she is and he tells her that she’s the smartest kid he’s ever met and kisses her forehead and she giggles and is just super excited??

also sometimes she asks raphael what he thinks and he’s just like “uhhh” because he has no idea lmao he’s just happy to see her do her thing and help her with the practical parts. and she giggles at him and she’s lowkey outraged but again, she’s just sweet and he loves her

i also 100% think it was madzie who figured out a potion to make raphael able to eat (oh look what is this fic that mentions that doing here) because FUCK mundane raphael all my homies hate mundane raphael, the heavenly fire made him a daylighter. and she could see how sad raphael was that he didn’t get to eat at all, especially because he clearly loved food and he always had this sort of longing when they were cooking together, you know? it also made her sad that he couldn’t try her cooking, and he was always telling her that to cook, you need to always taste what you’re making, and once she says “but you can’t do that” and he looked so sad she immediately felt bad about it, even if obviously it isn’t her fault

anyway my point is she knows how much this means for raphael and she wants him to be able to eat human food again, both for him and for herself. so she spends a long time studying vampire anatomy/digestive system, food properties, and magic, and she eventually figures out a potion that he can take before a meal that makes him able to eat. it goes slowly, initially he can only drink, but eventually she does figure out a way to make him eat anything and he just cries like a baby tbh. she is worried for a second but then he takes her in his arms and hugs her fiercely and peppers kisses on her face and says that this is one of the best things anyone’s ever done for him and that he’ll “forever be in her debt” or something that makes her laugh because raphael doesn’t owe her anything, he’s her brother. and he tears up all over again

of course that takes some years but they’re immortal so who cares. and catarina is SO proud of her little genius for that, too. raphael and maia include the potion as courtesy for any vampire who orders food at taki’s and share the recipe and it’s just a small revolution in the vampire world and madzie is already making history like hot damn. GENIUS MADZIE OKAY

but of course first and foremost she is a kid and deserves to be a kid, i just love her being naturally curious and interesting in researching and learning and stuff. but of course they also play a lot, and keep trying to out-cheat each other as she has magic and he has super abilities and the game becomes more seeing who can cheat the most and get away with it than anything else lol. and it’s its own brand of fun

also, raphael keeps trying to get madzie to eat healthy but the second he averts his eyes she’s like “abrakadabra this is now ice cream” and he’s SO frustrated. absolutely nothing can stop her from doing it. “if you eat these carrots i’ll buy you ice cream later”. guess what she can just turn it into ice cream now. your tactics are meaningless

also madzie playing dressing up! and she wants to be Stylish like her mom and her big bro and her uncle magnus but of course she’s a kid so her sense of style is essentially book magnus lmao but raphael 100% indulges her in all her endeavours and helps her make her outrageous outfits and shit. she likes colorful stuff as we’ve seen and he paints her nails and stuff. sometimes she makes herself mini suits mimicking or straight up matching raphael’s and raphael thinks it’s the cutest thing. especially when she like, imitates his blazer but keeps wearing a boa as well or something. aioudjsauihda i love kids and fashion can you tell

and she sometimes picks out clothes for him and guess what? raphael 100% wears them because it’s madzie and he is s o f t for her

and singing!!! and DANCING!!! there is no way raphael can’t dance no matter how hard he tries to pretend otherwise, and between him, dot, and magnus, madzie just loves to dance and becomes a great dancer in no time. raphael loves twirling her around. also him teaching her the jarabe tapatío you can’t tell me that she wouldn’t be all over that shit. the playing with the dress, the bright colors, dancing around the sombrero.... bitch she would love it. and they have so much fun doing their little improvised version of that and she claps and he has his hands behind his back and has the greatest smile on his face and she’s having so much fun

also raphael loves reading for her!!!! and eventually when they move away from reading books with pictures she starts creating her own “holograms” to illustrate the stories with magic, and raphael is so proud of her!! she’s just immensively creative and makes such beautiful illustrations for the stories and as raphael reads she changes around the setting she’s creating and it’s so fun and they both like it so much?? and she eventually falls asleep on his lap and he tucks her in and kisses her forehead and 🥺🥺

she also likes to paint and idk why but i have a feeling that raphael fucking sucks at painting, so that’s funny and he smiles and says that she has so much more talent than him...

and every time they are together raphael has the hugest smile on, it just doesn’t leave his face for a second. especially when they are playing outside in the sun and he just so fucking happy and basking in the warmth and playing with her, you know? and as madzie grows older, talking and just chilling together as well? you know? he just loves her so much and his cheeks almost hurt by the end and just aaaaaaaaa they are the sibling dynamic we DESERVE and DEMAND

#raphael santiago #madzie loss #shadowhunters #sh #brotp: a bright new sky #ask #anonymous #long post #like really long i got excited but i don't regret anything #rosa santiago #brotp: they're the same stars in mexico #maiaphael #real quick mention but there #catarina loss

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runningracingdancingchasing · 4 years

Note

would it annoy you if i said 'ALL the numbers'? shkshf

You caught me bored, Charlie. (And no one else has asked me any.) XD Here we go!

30 Character Questions!

1. When they tap their fingers do they use the pads of their fingers or their nails? Rapunzel uses her nails. She likes the sound, and sometimes it turns into impromptu percussion experiments.

2. What textures can they absolutely not stand? I don’t know if she’s ever come across a texture she absolutely can’t stand, but there are some textures that are Wrong(tm) in certain contexts. Like walking through something slimy, or putting it on your skin? That’s fine. Eating slime and only slime is another matter.

3. How long can they go without showering before they feel gross? Well obviously, this depends upon what she’s been doing (and is verse-dependent), but if it’s an average day where she hasn’t really been sweating, she can go two days without bathing, then bath on the third. When her hair is short, she washes it with every shower, but when it’s supernaturally long, she washes it twice a month, and uses oil-absorbing powders that she can brush out to keep it mostly clean in the meantime. (In a modern AU where she’s got naturally long hair, she washes it with every shower.) Though she tends to shower less when she’s depressed and not be aware of how gross she’s starting to feel.

4. Do they leave clothes on the floor or a chair? Neither. Dirty clothes go in a hamper (or get sent to the laundry in canon-verse) and clean clothes get put away. The only time you’re likely to find a lot of clothes strung about her room is either when they’re newly made and on display, or if she’s been trying a lot of things on, rapid-fire. (Or, you know, when they’ve been taken off - usually along with someone else’s clothes - and hastily thrown about because she has much more pressing things on her mind.)

5. Do they sleep with the bedroom door open or closed? Closed. The only thing that will prevent her from sleeping with a closed door is not having a door to close.

6. Which do they prefer: 3am or 3pm? 3 PM. She might be both a morning person and an evening person, but 3 AM is the middle of the night. Even when she’s up at that hour, she’s aware that it’s a strange hour to be awake. Still, the world tends to be peaceful and quiet at 3 AM, and if she is awake, she tries to appreciate it.

7. If they suddenly woke up with animal ears and tails what animal would they be? I often liken Rapunzel to an excited puppy, so probably doggie ears and tail.

8. If they could only eat one thing for 20 days straight what would it be? I’m going to assume you mean a freshly-made whatever-it-is, and not made once then have leftovers for 20 days, in which case the answer is: A salad, but the kind with a meat protein in it, and cheese and maybe seeds. An interesting salad, that’s not only good for you, but satisfying. Like steak and strawberry salad. It’s not that it’s her favorite food, but she knows it would be both tasty and healthy and she wouldn’t feel like crap at the end of the 20 days.

9. Are they the type to re-read a book? :looks at the camera like she’s on The Office:

10. Would they want to know the exact date and time of their death? Nah. I don’t think she’d mind knowing if it just... came up somehow, but she wouldn’t seek it out, or ask for it if it was offered. She enjoys not knowing what’s going to happen. (And if she did find out, she might get a little obsessive about it for a while.)

11. What’s their favourite mythological creature? While she doesn’t have a single specific one (she has a lot of trouble picking favorite anythings), she does feel something of a kinship to phoenixes.

12. If they had to listen to one song on repeat 100+ times what would it be? Ooooh, just one song? I think that might drive her nuts before too long. XD But at least she’d get to choose. So she’d probably pick something that reminds her favorably of someone she loves, maybe something with a little bounce to it, interesting tune and instrumentation. Hmm... Then again, she might go with something soothing that’s easy to tune out, so it wouldn’t bother her so much.

13. Do they believe in an afterlife? She does. In canon-verse, she believes that people come back as sunlight, and that every time you’re particularly aware of the sensation of sunlight on your skin, it’s someone you love and lost coming to see how you are.

14. When they get tired do their eyelids twitch? That happens when you’re tired?! I thought that was just like...a stress thing! Anyway, no.

15. What are their favourite textures? Oh, she loves all kinds of textures. She loves silkiness and fur rubbed against her skin, the squish of silt between her toes, stubbly hair (someone else’s) rubbing on her stomach and inner thighs, the texture of a breeze that’s only a few degrees different from the ambient air brushing by, soft strands of hair sliding through her fingers, reptile skin (on a living reptile, thanks), the tickle of feathers, the firm pliability of clay... The list goes on.

16. Do they crack their joints? She’s not, like, a knuckle-popper, but she does delight in her joints popping when she stretches.

17. Would they eat/drink something too hot or wait for it to cool? She’d try it when it was too hot, blow on it, and suffer the consequences. Then she’d either try it gain before it had cooled enough, or wait until it was cooler than she likes before trying again.

18. Are they the type to adopt strays? (Animals or people) :looks at the camera again: It’s like... her biggest hobby that she doesn’t realize is a hobby.

19. Do they get work done straight away or wait until the last moment? Straight away. She likes getting tasks done, and also likes the leisure that comes once they are.

20. How do they bathe/shower? Long or short? Hot or cold? A time for everything. Current weather is a big factor, as is how she’s been feeling. They’re almost always average-to-long, but bath or shower, cold or hot, all really depends on her mood.

21. Are they the type to daydream? Absolutely. And she doodles while she does it. Or daydreams while she doodles.

22. Do they work best in a messy space or a neat space? Both? I mean, it almost always starts neat, gets messy, then gets neat again when she’s done with what she’s doing. She might not clean up until everything she’s working on is done, though.

23. Do they keep any personal photos? Certainly! In modern AUs, she’s actually quite the photographer, herself!

24. Do they indulge in anything? She indulges in everything, from hobbies to studies. If she wants to try something, she does her damndest to try it! She indulges in indulging.

25. Would they do the exact opposite of what someone says just to spite them? It’s not a regular character trait of hers, but yes. She is stubborn, and when she gets in the right mood, she would absolutely be that level of spiteful.

26. If they’re alone and hear a noise would they go and investigate? Absolutely! Curiosity beats fear every time!

27. If they’re lost what is the first thing they would do? Stay in a tower for 18 years waiting for someone to find her. Climb to high ground to see if she can locate her party, or at least her starting- or intended ending-point.

28. What is that one dream that makes no sense but is absolutely terrifying? The one where she’s a music box dancer and she hates the tune she dances to but can’t do anything about it. The person winding the music box laughs and laughs.

29. What is the stupidest thing they’ve ever done just because someone said they couldn’t? Slid down a curving banister while standing up. She broke her arm. (Joke’s on them, she learned how to do it flawlessly after that.)

30. Are they stoic or melodramatic about being injured? Stoic at the time of the injury, melodramatic about the trauma afterwards.

#meme #Headcanons #xiaolindude

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muthaz-rapapa · 4 years

Text

Categorizing Precure by Hair Types (Cure ver.)

Why I subject myself to these weird little projects is an unending mystery. Something I’m sure I’ll never find the answer to.

Anyways, this version more or less follows the same reasoning as the civilian version does. But again, there are still some I’m not totally sure of. I mean, c’mon. It’s magical girl hair on top of anime hair, for god’s sake, so honestly, who can ever be sure? :P

More comments under the cut.

Note: This will be continually updated as new additions come along.

(mostly) Straight:

* - Rouge, Chocolat

? - Berry, March, Cosmos

Wavy:

* - Blossom

? - Peach, Happy, Soleil

Curly:

* - Sparkle

? - Ace

Other:

Again, yes, magical girl hair is simply too abnormal to categorize them under regular conditions but it doesn’t mean I can’t try...oof, even if it’s highly debatable whether these can be called “hair” at all.

In any case, I’m basing most of my judgement on how much texture is shown. In other words, how close do their transformed hair actually resemble normal human hair and such.

(mostly) Straight - These I don’t think I need to explain much in general.

Rouge, Chocolat - Much like Rin and Mana in the civilian version, Rouge and Chocolat just had their hair flared (gelled, whatever) up during transformation. Well, Rouge was always like that but yea.

Berry - Since it’s up in a high sidetail, it’s hard to tell but Miki has straight hair. Here, however, Berry’s sidetail is quite twisted. Maybe she needs to be moved to the curly section after all.

March - It’s just crazy how it looks that I’m this close to relocating her to “Other”. What’s “Other”, you’re asking? Read below!

Cosmos - Her civilian form remains unsolved for me so I find it strange that I’m more sure about her Cure form instead. That is unless she takes the braids out (which will likely never happen) to show otherwise, I’m pretty certain it’s straight.

Wavy - I believe it’s fair to say they carry a lot of their physical traits and qualities from their civilian forms into their Cure forms unless the difference is noticeable enough.

For example, Inori’s hair can be either straight or wavy (or both) but in Cure form, Pine’s is obviously wavy.

Blossom - With the exception of Moonlight, the Heartcatch girls seem to be edging out to inhuman territory in the hair area but I chalk this up to character design more than anything. Now for Blossom, Tsubomi’s classified as wavy in the civilian version. Blossom’s ponytail suggests it’s mostly straight with waves closer to the ends. But that’s only because it’s up. If you watched the movie where her hair falls completely down, Blossom doesn’t look at all different from how Tsubomi normally is.

Peach - Ever since I saw this GK set which shows Peach’s twintails in very intricate curls as opposed to just a mass of waves, I’m always questioning if what I’m seeing with my own eyes is really what it’s meant be.

Happy - Another ludicrous style. Should she be moved to “Other” or not?

Soleil - Curiously enough, Soleil’s hair looks a little too straight to be curly? When in civilian form, Elena has more waves in hers.

Curly - Not much to comment. The curls speak for themselves.

Sparkle - Her twintails are poofy but during the transformation sequence, you can see how her straight hair gets twisted into curls.

Ace - Well, yes, as unbelievably enormous as they may be, those are curls alright. But because the overall thing is so improbable, I’m tempted to put her in the “Other” section as well.

Other - A special section for these girls because there’s no way I can see their hair as actual hair, ok?

I mean, call it whatever you want but that’s just out of the realm of ridiculous. When I first saw the DokiPre transformations, I was convinced twisting balloons shot out of their heads!

And Mermaid can’t belong anywhere but here because her hair is literally a giant blob of water.

Whip’s is just...I don’t even want to get into that. (@_@ ;; )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update log:

4/22/20 - Post published.

#precure #categorizing precure

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airquietworks · 5 years

Text

Expecting! (IzuOcha) (Part 3)

Summary: The world may never be the same. Izuku and Ochako have to answer for their choice to have a child. Navigating pregnancy and heroics is no small task, but together, they are determined to succeed. Part 1, Part 2

"Well, this is a quaint little scene you have going here."

"Shush! I am trying to work my magic. It takes absolute focus. And you closing your lips."

"Don't mind me; I'm just a fly on the wall."

"Too bad I can't swat you. A little to the left there, dear! No, my left!"

Izuku watched as Ochako huffed, pouting as she adjusted her position again at Akihi's behest. He himself struggled to maintain his easygoing smile, per the photographer's instruction. His butt was starting to get sore from the rather uncomfortable stool he was made to sit on. The tight-fitting collared shirt and sweater felt too hot on his skin.

"At least we're not naked this time," he whispered to his wife, managing to garner a giggle from her.

———————————————————————————————————–

Chapter 3: Comfort, confrontation and the world

———————————————————————————————————–

She looked positively radiant in her bright floral dress. She stood up tall, on-high above him, providing him with a front-row seat to appreciate her natural beauty.

Ochako let out a little sigh, her eyes starting to droop. The photoshoot was dragging on longer than either of them cared for. "We're going out for mochi when this is over."

"Aap aap aap! No talking! I've almost got the shot! You look gorgeous!"

Izuku clammed up at the command, praying they would be freed from this before long. As much as he'd like to just enjoy his wife's company, their audience – Akihi the shutterbug and the ever-watchful Kyoko – would never let that happen.

He tried to let his mind wander, searching within for a distraction from his discomfort. As he often did, his thoughts began to spiral in ponderance of the things happening around him and every aspect to be considered about them.

Really, this was to be their lot in life. Even more than before, they would be keenly observed, their celebrity boosted by their unusual decision to have a child. Privacy would be hard to come by once they went back into the field. This would be the first magazine cover they graced the pages of as parents-to-be, but it would certainly be far from the last.

What did it mean for them? He had cast aside his doubts that they wouldn't find a way to make this work for them. But how the world at large would change was another matter entirely.

The camera started snapping loudly. It kept going until the noise began to fade into the distant background. Different sounds replaced it. Memories of explosions, screams, and collapsing buildings. Himself, rushing in to save the day. To help those in need.

"No mumbling either!"

The world snapped back into focus. He stayed his rapidly-moving lips, forcing them back into an upturned position. It was a momentary lapse in his mind, one he chose not to dwell on. It was a dangerous daydream.

The burden of a hero was always the knowledge of the people you failed to save. It was an ugly, gnawing thing at the back of your mind which could lash out unexpectedly, guilting you about the things you had no control over.

It was part of the struggle of trying to become the world's greatest. He had coped well enough with that guilt, with Ochako's help. But as her belly swelled, so too did the biting creature in the back of his mind.

The decision to give up some of the world's benefit for his own – to take a more selfish approach to his life – had not been an easy one.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The waters of Dagobah Municipal Beach Park always inspired a deep sense of tranquility and nostalgia within Izuku. The calming sound of the waves brushing solidly against the shore was almost like a song to him. It was the soundtrack which started the defining times of his youth.

This was a forge of heroes. At least, All Might had made it into one. Here, his mentor had built him from a wispy child into a budding man, one with the strength to contain the nigh-infinite power of One For All.

Izuku had poured his blood, sweat, and tears into the sand to build himself up. With his tireless efforts, he had cleaned the beach and made its true beauty shine through, reinvigorating its public use. This beach was arguably the birthplace of the hero named Deku. It was one of his first acts of heroism, even if it had been small in the grand scheme of things. For that, it was a place he would always be fond of.

He kept a sad smile on his face as he gazed upon it.

The smile remained despite the mountains of garbage that had once again accumulated across the once-pristine shoreline.

"Huh. Little worse off than when we left it."

His mentor's dry evaluation of the beach broke the quiet moment of tension. With a sigh, Izuku pushed his mentor forward, searching for a ramp to get him down into the sands below.

"They let it get like this again?" Izuku murmured. His eyes moved across the trash-filled horizon as they walked alongside it. "What's the government even doing?"

All Might let out a throaty chuckle. The sound was scratchier than it once was, but was still pleasant again Izuku's ears. "You'll be asking yourself that question a lot, trust me."

The two eventually found the ramp they were searching for. Izuku pushed All Might down the sloping surface. The wheels immediately caught when they hit the sand, but the elderly hero tapped a switch on the end of his armrest. A panel opened up with an array of buttons, emblazoned with different brightly-colored symbols for ease of use. A quick press from a bony finger caused the chair to transform. The tires rapidly inflated as the bike's mechanics shifted to lift All Might higher. In a matter of seconds, the chair's built-in beach mode was ready, one of the dozens of terrain types the machine had been designed to handle.

Izuku stared at the wheelchair as it morphed, wishing he had his notebook on him. "Melissa is incredible."

"It might be a little much. But I must admit it's effective."

Unfortunately, navigating mounds of trash was not something the device had been designed for, and All Might did not care to activate its hover mode for fear of attracting attention. The two settled on a somewhat open spot on the edge of the beach, with a clear enough view of the water and the shining line of the horizon.

Izuku let himself fall down roughly to the sand. He kicked off his sandals and buried his feet into the ground. The familiar feeling of the coarse texture rubbing against his skin was surprisingly pleasant. His nostalgia triggered again as he recalled all those days he would collapse into the beach after a hard day's work.

He let the peace of the park fill him. The trash made the scene messy and chaotic, but there was harmony to be found underneath it all.

"So, young Midoriya. Why did you want to come here?"

Izuku side-eyed the former paragon of heroism. Seeing All Might here again, bathed in the setting sun, was a reminder of how the years had not been kind to him. His face was horribly wrinkled, weathered into an unpleasant misshapenness. The once-mighty blonde mane of hair had faded to grey, thin and falling, barely enabling the former hero to don a simple straight cut. The arms poking out from the simple white t-shirt were pencil-thin, with no hope of summoning even a flicker of the strength All Might once wielded.

This was what was left of the man who had given up his entire being for the world.

But no matter how All Might looked, the world never stopped idolizing him in return. He carried himself with dignity, making as many public appearances as he could for charitable causes. He no longer had the body to teach daily classes at U.A., but he still stayed on as faculty, guiding the curriculum for the next generation of heroes and appearing from time to time for guest lectures.

Long since retired, All Might still did amazing things. Izuku wondered if he would ever be able to hold a candle to him at that age.

The young hero tensed his fingers in the sand. He absentmindedly tried to grab hold of it, a useless gesture as it instead slipped through his fingertips.

"Midoriya?"

"Sorry!" Izuku blurted quickly, realizing he was getting too lost in his own thoughts. He had kept All Might guessing, being cryptic and evasive on the way over here. He could not stall any longer.

"I…I wanted to get your advice about something."

"Oh? Well, I'm always happy to help, Midoriya. But did you have to come all the way out here for that?"

"It's a…a little different than usual." Izuku could feel his face grow hot under the scrutinous eyes of his hero. The two kept in regular contact over the phone, but their face-to-face meetings were much more infrequent due to their busy schedules.

But Izuku had insisted on meeting in person for this. The place where it all began had seemed like a natural location.

"Well, enough keeping me in suspense. What is it?" All Might kept his usual even-keeled "teacher" voice. There was a calming familiarity to it, even as Izuku tried to muster up the courage to ask a life-defining question.

Izuku gulped, struggling to find the nerve. He had asked All Might for so much help over the years, and the man had always been patient with him. So why did his throat start to close up? Why was this so difficult?

It was because he was walking away from All Might's path.

The truth popped into the forefront of his mind, soon taking over his train of thought. He gritted his teeth, trying to push through the sinking guilt tearing its way through him.

He closed his eyes and grabbed deeply into the hard dirt beneath the sand.

"Ochako and I are thinking of having a baby."

All Might let out a telling, gasping breath. It was a rumbling noise, one which put Izuku on edge. He let the man recover, leaning forward impatiently as he waited.

"That's…that's wonderful. And surprising." All Might coughed hard, his airways clogging up over the shock.

Izuku focused intently on his mentor. He had always been hard to read, but their years-long bond had given Izuku some grasp of his body language. The man remained stony, his withered face unreadable. But Izuku noticed the slight clenching of bony fingers into the fabric of baggy pants.

The young hero sighed. The reaction was about as bad as expected. Getting through this conversation might be as herculean as clearing the beach.

"We're pretty unsure about it. We're looking at everything. And we're asking for advice." Izuku could picture Ochako in his mind's eye, sitting on a train, perhaps looking up at the same setting sun that he was. "Ochako's heading out to talk to her parents about it this weekend."

"Midoriya, this is…this isn't really my strong suit." All Might's head turned away from him, but he could only go so far within the confines of the wheelchair. Those once-mighty hands came together in a clasp, looking all too fragile.

"Toshinori…" Izuku heard the man suck in a breath. It was rare Izuku uttered that name, as much as he was encouraged to. It still felt strange to the tongue, but sometimes, the circumstance called for it. "I think I need to hear from you more than anyone. I…I just can't figure this out. What the right thing to do is."

Izuku let himself fall backwards into the sand, staring up at the fading light of the sky. The clouds made it look heavenly, dancing into wondrous forms. But the light was quickly starting to fade.

"Well, you haven't ever talked about having kids. Why exactly do you two want a child?"

Izuku let his eyes fall closed at the question. His mind conjured up the answer in a slideshow of images, enrapturing his heart in a way he could not hope to describe. He remembered what it was like helping Eri and Kota grow to the wonderful young adults they were today. He imagined what it would be like to do that with his own child. To hold them in his arms, to watch them love things as passionately as he did, to see them grow up before his eyes.

He could see himself and Ochako, their small child between them, each grasping a minuscule hand. It made his heart soar.

"…because I can't help but love the thought of having a family." He paused to open his eyes and look up toward the darkening skyline once more. "And raising a part of the future."

Izuku pulled himself back into an upright position. He searched his companion's face for some sign of emotion. He needed to see some kind of positive affirmation. He did not want to venture into the dark unknown without his master's support.

All Might closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. He lifted his hand and deposited his head into it, as if his thoughts were becoming too heavy.

"…do you want my honest opinion?" His question was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Izuku pushed himself forward, crawling over to face his teacher. He sat cross-legged before his chair, sitting up as straight as he possibly could. "More than anything."

All Might let out a chuckle at the movement. It really did feel like old times, the pupil hanging desperately on his teacher's words. Izuku could feel himself tensing in anticipation, ears straining to hang on whatever came.

"Well, if you want the truth…" All Might paused to let out a deep sigh. He opened his steely blue eyes, giving an intense stare to Izuku. "I think it's a terrible idea."

Those heartwarming images of his future child shattered into a million pieces. Izuku took a bracing breath. In. Out. He wanted to keep his composure, to face All Might like the man he was. This was the difficult, but honest, conversation he had asked for.

But despite his best efforts, he could not meet those cold eyes.

"Why…why do you think that?" Izuku directed his question to the sandy beach below. He noticed a stray soda can buried beneath the grains, staining what should be pure ground.

All Might did not hesitate to respond this time.

"Well, for your average hero, having kids isn't easy. I'm sure you know how the demands of work make kids hard. Those I've seen manage it usually picked a partner who could dedicate more time into childrearing."

Every word made Izuku feel more like the earth should swallow him whole. His throat bobbed as he tried to maintain his composure. He did not realize just how much he had needed to hear All Might approve of this choice. He did not realize just how much of himself he had committed to wanting that.

"But you two are both pros. Most couples in your shoes would not even consider it. We heroes have to dedicate so much of ourselves to helping others. We can rarely help ourselves." All Might paused, but Izuku did not dare look up to see why.

"You both have such great potential. But to meet that and have a child…well, for just about anyone, I think I'd have to say something's got to give."

For the first time he could recall, he wanted to stop All Might from giving him advice. Every point being made was something he and Ochako had already discussed ad nauseam. But his teacher's words gave those doubts an added gravitas. Those nagging corners of his mind were running havoc inside his head, suddenly fueled by the power of the world's greatest hero.

All Might continued on, seemingly oblivious to the torment he was inflicting. "Your children might grow to resent you. Or worse. Heroes must always consider the risks. You know what happened to Kota-"

"It wouldn't be like that!"

The memory of the broken child he helped heal, and the thought of leaving their own child that way had been a frequent visitor of his nightmares. The spike of pain which tore through his heart at the reminder finally snapped something within him.

For the first time in his life, he was truly angry at his hero.

"You're wrong! We'd find a way to make it work!" He rose up to his feet, staring down defiantly as he unleashed a barrage of heartfelt words. " I don't care if I have to skip sleep or eating or nights out or…or anything!"

Izuku's arms shook with fury as he opened them wide, muscles bulging outward. "These arms are strong enough to hold the world and our child!"

His heart swelled, beating rapidly with the passion he felt for the beautiful images he imagined about his children. He could see the broken glass reforming in his mind, glowing with glorious light.

"And as for…for what happened to Kota…"

His arms fell to his sides again as he stared back down at the ground. It was hard to confront his own mortality. He and Ochako had wept together on too many close calls. They had mourned again as they contemplated whether they could even bring themselves to have children, considering that chance they would be creating orphans.

It was hard. But after so many anguished debates, one memory got them over that hump. The memory of a broken, bowing man pleading desperately to a steadfast mother.

Izuku lifted his head to stare back at his master. Toshinori wore a small, challenging smile, but Izuku refused to let that falter him.

"No matter what, we'll live for them. Just like you lived for me."

The fiery proclamation put a face-splitting grin on Toshinori's. He let the tiniest of chuckles escape from his lips.

"If it were anyone else, I would have seriously believed those things. But this is you we're talking about." Toshi paused to adjust himself backwards in his chair, his posture visibly relaxing. "Though it hardly seems like you need my advice."

Izuku blinked. The words were disarming, blowing away the air thick with tension. His fists unfurled as he considered how, exactly, the conversation got to this point.

"Wha….what?"

"Come now, Midoriya. I'm surprised how hard you fell for it. You must really want a kid bad." All Might had the gall to laugh again, more heartily this time. "That was advice I would give to most heroes. You, however, are a pretty special case."

Staggered by the change in words, Izuku found himself falling to the ground again. His rage dissipated as quickly as it came.

It slowly dawned on him what had just transpired. He could feel the heat inside him make his way to his cheeks. He had actually gotten furious at All Might, of all people!

"Sorry, sir!" He bowed his head in apology, praying he could make up for the gall of his anger. Once again, the tingles of nostalgia pricked him, but he ignored it. "I should have realized it was a test!"

"Now, now, don't get so serious on me," All Might admonished lightly, voice filled with mirth. "But it was good to see how passionate you are about this. This isn't something you should do if you aren't ready to put anything less than your all into it."

Izuku felt a comforting hand atop his shoulder. He looked up to see All Might beaming down. Even atop a weathered face, All Might still had a smile which could inspire hope.

"Right!" Izuku nodded back in enthusiasm, leaning forward with an energy All Might could always inspire.

The elder hero breathed a deep sigh, shaking his head. Izuku knew he was probably being a bit too volatile right now. But he couldn't help it. The idea that his teacher approved of a child on some level made his heart roar in triumph.

"You and Miss Uraraka have already done so much together. And you've already been breaking down social barriers few heroes have dared take on. If there are any heroes that could handle having a kid, it's you two."

The kind words were a jolt to Izuku. In spite of himself, he could not stop the water that started to well up in his eyes at the soft-spoken approval of his idol.

"You…you really mean that?" His lip quivered and he ruefully wiped away the tears starting to stain his cheeks.

"I do. But I just hope you know what you're getting into."

The man reached his arms out to roll himself forward, moving around and past his pupil. Deku feebly reached a hand out in an offer of help, but paused as his mentor paid no heed. Despite his aging limbs, All Might was still fiercely independent. There was quiet, unshakable strength to him that Izuku still relied on.

Izuku stayed in place as All Might wheeled himself toward the trash. He sat at a narrowing point in the mounds of garbage, flanked by two large piles of furniture. The sun had long since faded, but the starlight was more than enough to illuminate him. Izuku could see the flickers of All Might's aura dancing on the edges of his vision.

Izuku could remember the muscled back he spent so many days chasing here.

He wanted to believe he was past that now. But he knew he was still just reaching out to catch the end of All Might's shadow in many ways.

"The world is like this beach." The weathered hero stretched his arms out wide, dramatically gesturing to the towering heaps beside him. "No matter how much work you do, it finds a way to deliver you more."

He inclined his head backward toward Izuku, an icy half-stare challenging him.

"Are you sure you're ready to handle that responsibility and have a child?"

The stare sent shivers through Deku. But he would not hesitate. He knew the answer.

"I am."

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The memory danced vividly in his mind.

Shadows of doubt still sprung up within him on bad days. Days of weary limbs and lost battles. Days filled with uncertainty, like this one. Days where Ochako, the love of his life, suffered. Where the world seemed impossibly heavy.

But Izuku's own words were a talisman against the fears lurking in the corners of his head. The words were spoken by the man who would be the world's greatest hero. Deku did not doubt he and Ochako would succeed. He had promised it to All Might. He had to remember that.

"Just hold it right there! I need to adjust things a bit. Don't move an inch, lovelies!"

"You look zoned out. Whatchya thinkin' about?" The pleasant whisper of his wife snapped Izuku out of his musings.

He stared up at her again while she beamed gently down at him. As happened so often, she shone so brightly that she became hard to look at. In spite of their years of intimacy, he still found his face flushing.

A little fearful of the attentive ears of their photographer, Izuku did not communicate with words. He gently reached a hand and pressed it against her stomach, which bulged prominently underneath her dress. He grinned sheepishly as he felt the softness housing the growing life they had created together. The future child he would do anything for. Would live for.

The telltale sound of shutters filled the air again. "Magnifique!"

"You're not French."

"Nobody asked you."

The couple could not stop the titters which burst forth from them. The spell keeping them still shattered as they progressed into full-blown laughter. Ochako shifted to lean against a screen while Izuku put his hands on his knees, trying to regain control of the mirth coming from his lips.

"No, no, no!" Akihi's hands flew outward angrily, but she wore a shaky smile on her face. She breathed an exaggerated sigh as she shook her head at them. "You're lucky I'm good enough to have gotten something to work with!"

"It only took you 20 minutes longer than our staff photographers," Kyoko drawled dully from her place on the wall.

"Perfection takes time!"

The heroic couple continued their quiet laughter, managing to find humour amidst a whirlwind of uncertainty.

"Thank goodness that's over." Ochako breathed a sigh of relief as she reached out to grasp Izuku's hand, pinky sticking out in the air. "All of this production…do you think we did the right thing?"

Izuku looked down at the clasping of their weathered hands. He looked back up at the woman he loved more than anything. Strong, fierce, and shining more than anyone he had ever met.

He squeezed her hand tightly.

"I know we did."

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AN: Special thanks to Mika, whose artwork inspired this fic, and to Neon Pixel for commissioning the original art piece. Link to it here: https://stirredbrew.tumblr.com/post/183727397704/art-commission-done-by-the

Thanks again to Deadliest Sin Bin for editing this chapter.

Just one chapter, the epilogue, to go now.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! =)

#izuocha #my hero academia #izuku midoriya #ochako uraraka #fanfiction #shipping #romance #Expecting!#pregnancy #fluff

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by-nina · 5 years

Text

No Promises

Royai Week 2019 | Day 7 – Picture prompt; couple at sunset Rating: K+ Genre: Romance/Fluff Word Count: 2,140

She drinks the rest of her champagne, not noticing the way Roy has paused to stare at her. Riza quietly resumes watching the view.

Roy hardly recognizes himself in the mirror. It isn’t the handsome black military uniform that he wears in place of his regular one, though it’s true that he hasn’t brought it out for many occasions. It isn’t the freshly shaven look he hasn’t worn for a while—but it is the thinly veiled nervousness on his face that makes all the difference, breaking what he supposes should be the composure of a man giving his daughter away on her wedding day.

The door opens behind him, and he comes back to his senses—the primary realization being that it isn’t his own daughter he is walking down the aisle today. Gracia Hughes enters the room, smiling at him, kind and pitying and amused at the same time.

“Are you all right, Roy? You must be sweating in your suit.”

He lets out something between a laugh and a deep breath. “I’m all right. Thank you, Gracia. How’s everything outside? Is there anything I need to help out with?”

Gracia laughs. “Everything’s under control, no need to worry. Besides, you’re already doing more than enough for Elicia just by being here today.” Her expression turns softer. “It means so much to me, too. Maes would have been extremely happy and grateful.”

Falling into their sentimental thoughts, they look out through the large window of Roy’s rented room, which overlooks the garden where the ceremony is to take place. In the mid-afternoon sun, the decorations are a beautiful tapestry of pastels against a canvas of rich, textured green. Soft white cloths are draped around rows of gold-colored garden chairs and the round shrubs dotting the aisle. At the end of it, an intricately carved gazebo serves as the altar, ringed out with flowers and strings of twinkling lights.

“I still can’t believe that I’m walking Elicia down the aisle,” Roy says quietly. “It should have been him.”

She sighs, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Not a day goes by that I don’t miss him. But missing him and keeping him in our thoughts is the most we can do, nothing more. Maes doesn’t dwell on the past, and he wouldn’t want us to do that.” Her grip turns firm, encouraging. “And you owe the same to your own life.”

He’s heard that tone before—that purposeful, knowing tone she uses when she speaks to him as her own friend rather than one she’d met through her husband, as she has increasingly done in recent years. It must be due to the occasion that she’s chosen to remind him of this again, but he’d be damned if he didn’t want to agree with her—that it had been so long, that he had gone through so much by this point in their lives that there must be more for him, finally, than the single-minded goal of becoming Führer.

Right as he’s entertaining the tempting thought, the door opens once again. This time, a different kind of emotion fills him with Elicia’s arrival. She saunters inside in a billowing, iridescent white dress that gives her the appearance of floating on a cloud, kept on the ground by the small, colorful flowers that adorn her hair at the base of her veil. Never in a million years would Roy have imagined the small, adorable child in an endless array of wallet pictures growing up into this lovely young woman, and it’s as if he’s been punched in the gut. Roy wonders if it’s simply nostalgia that makes his eyes mist, or more an effect of seeing someone in a wedding dress.

“Uncle Roy!” she beams, reaching out and throwing her arms around his neck; he catches her, smiling widely himself. “You look great!”

“What are you talking about, Elicia, look at you!” Roy allows her to step back, and she exchanges a smile with her mother. He doesn’t know how he hasn’t had his breath knocked out of him yet. “Shouldn’t you be with your bridesmaids? The wedding will start anytime soon.”

“It’s not going anywhere, is it? There’s something I need to take care of first.”

“You know, whatever it is, I can take care of it for you.”

Elicia’s grin changes. For a second, Roy swears that he can see his best friend’s devilish smiling face beneath hers. What the hell, Maes.

“Oh, I’m definitely leaving it to you. Mom, could you give us a minute alone?”

“Of course. I’ll see you outside, honey.”

Gracia and Elicia kiss each other on the cheek, and the older woman nods at Roy over her shoulder. Once the door closes behind her, Elicia crosses her arms, and her expression turns smug. He knows that look, too; it’s the look she had used on him so often as a teenager, not entirely rebellious but indeed headstrong. Like he’s always done, he mirrors her pose affectionately.

“All right, kid. What do you want?”

She shakes her head as if he’d asked the most obvious question in the world. “Uncle Roy, isn’t this strange to you? It’s been so long. I’m twenty-three years old, and in a few minutes I’ll be married to a man I fell in love with five years ago. What’s keeping you from doing the same thing?”

Roy laughs nervously and looks away. “What—what are you talking about, Elicia? This really isn’t the time for—”

“No, it’s definitely the time for this. She’s here today, too. I want my wedding day to be as happy for everyone as it is for me. You both deserve it.”

�� “Elicia.” He casts his eyes down. Roy would be bewildered that he’s being lectured by his best friend’s young daughter, of all people, if the question hadn’t been so piercingly personal. Instead, he’s left with a lonely sense of longing that has no business being this potent, after having been pushed down and away for so long. He sighs. “Listen. This isn’t as simple as choosing to spend the rest of your life with someone who makes you happy. If I could do that—if I’d had the chance or right to do that, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But there are greater things than that for people like—people like us. Things that must come before people like us. And if putting those things first is what it takes for other people to love, and be happy, and be free, then it’s the price we’ll pay.”

Elicia’s smile has faded. At first, Roy thinks that he has convinced her to see things the way he does, but she is Maes’ daughter, after all. He looks more closely at her face: he finds no sympathy there, only incredulousness.

“You say ‘people like us’ as if Dad didn’t serve with you before he married Mom.” She sighs. “I’ve known you and Aunt Riza all my life. You two have devoted more than a lifetime to serving our country, even before you became Führer. You can only do so much on your own, but you’ve always worked beyond your own capacity and inspired your men to do the same. How can you still think you don’t deserve each other?” Smiling fondly, she adds, “And besides, I don’t think I’ve heard a lot of people talk like that about someone they love. You really don’t hear yourself, do you?”

Roy bites his lip, looking everywhere around the room except straight at Elicia, whose knowing look he knows will completely win him over. “You don’t think it’s too late for us?”

“You’ve been with each other through your worst, and you still have each other after all this time. No time could possibly be too late for the two of you.”

The clock strikes five. From his window, they can see the sun begin to set and the sky turn into a breathtaking golden color. He has always thought of Riza under a sky like this, and he thinks of all the sunsets that will pass him by for the rest of his life. He cannot know how many there will be, but he knows he will wait for each one.

Elicia smiles and takes Roy by the elbow, and he lets her lead him out to the garden.

The sunset is perhaps the least of all the beautiful things that afternoon. Tears begin to fall the moment Elicia appears at the end of the aisle; she has a glow like the sun itself, and guests wonder in awe where all the years have gone. Roy trembles a little as he leads Elicia to the altar, but he keeps himself together for her and for her father, who might rise from the grave and come for him if he were to mess up. Once the walk has been completed and she has joined her husband-to-be, Major Robert Weiss, the sunlight catches them in just the right places. They look at each other in a way that creates a world all their own, that no one watching behind them could describe.

The ceremony and the immediately succeeding reception turn everyone fondly nostalgic, but none more so than Elicia’s older guests. They are mostly comprised of Maes’ friends from the military, and so the Elrics, Roy’s closest colleagues, Major General Armstrong and his men, and a few others lose themselves in a sea of his memories over glasses of champagne. They talk about how Maes Hughes had always been the biggest hearted man of them all, who wanted nothing more for anyone than to find love. They talk about their loved ones—families they’ve formed, people they’ve met and lost, people who have been with them all their lives.

They talk, and talk, and talk, and Riza soon finds herself entranced by the view of the landscape below, beneath a still warm-colored horizon that fades into a starry patch of light blue sky. She broke away from the group when talk came of grand romantic moments and lovestruck highs. She thinks of love, and she’s unable to see it as anything other than a warm, unassuming place in her chest that comes in moments she can never predict. Riza smiles and tips back her glass. Maybe all she needs to sort her thoughts is more champagne.

Before any other sound comes, she hears a few soft footfalls, carefully placed so they make that nice, full sound of leather soles, and she knows only Roy Mustang could be approaching her. Standing next to her, he leans on his elbows against the balustrade. “How’s the view out here?”

“A welcome change from being in the middle of all those buildings in Central.”

“It’s a lot like your old home, isn’t it?”

She may have misjudged herself. There is a small, pleasant twinge in the middle of the warmth that begins to fill her chest. “I’ve seen a lot that are close. But it’s nothing like the experience of actually living in the countryside.”

Roy smiles fondly. “I know. I still remember the fresh air and the spring water.”

“And people calling you to their homes out of nowhere for tea and freshly baked bread.”

“Oh, I miss the bread from the town! I remember being late for some of my alchemy lessons back then because I’d sneak out for bread.”

Riza laughs as a few faint memories of such instances come to mind. She never expected to look back on them so fondly. “So that’s why! Father would get so mad about that quickly. But I’d always shut him out when he’d talk about it. It got so petty.”

She drinks the rest of her champagne, not noticing the way Roy has paused to stare at her. Riza quietly resumes watching the view.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Their eyes meet, and the warm feeling in her chest grows. It comes with thoughts of coffee in the middle of long working nights and hungover mornings after waking up; of long drives, during which they talk more easily and about more things than they do in anyone else’s presence; of shared umbrellas in the rain and jointly caring for Hayate and years and years of knowing each other through fire and never wavering in their belief in each other.

He breaks away from her gaze, but not before she sees these same thoughts in his eyes as well. Roy stares at the mountains fading into the dark horizon. The wind picks up; she leans towards him in search of warmth.

“What do you think, Riza? About moving to your hometown after retiring.”

His voice quivers at her name. Riza smiles; it will take some time for her to get used to the way he says it, or for her to even say his. She settles for a contented sigh.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

It feels like the easiest thing in the world.

#Royai Week #Royai Week 2019 #RoyaiWeek19 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Royai #Gracia Hughes #Elicia Hughes #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Day 7 - Picture prompt; couple at sunset #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #fluff #writing #written by nina

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psychosistr · 5 years

Text

Friendly Four Verse- Meetings Part 2: Bushroot

Summary: A few months into the dynamic duo’s heroic partnership, Megavolt and Quackerjack encounter a rather interesting, if a bit grumpy, plant mutant by the name of Bushroot. Is the poisonous plant-duck really as bad as he seems, or is there potential for friendship, and more, to bloom from their encounters?

Notes: As stated in the previous chapter, this one’s going to be a bit longer and go into the three character’s backstories a bit more. Enjoy!

Also, quick trigger warning because there is a scene that briefly deals with child abuse.

-First Chapter-

Megavolt and Quackerjack ran into Bushroot three times before they convinced him to join their little team.

The first time was at an old gardening supply store that had been out of business for years- thanks to the heavy pollution in the air, as well as a strict “no flowers in the city” law enforced by Negaduck and his goons, places like that were the hardest hit.

Still, even if it was a long-dead hobby, it seemed that some people still saw fit to loiter around the dilapidated building. This led to a rather noisy conflict that caught Megavolt and Quackerjack’s attention one day while they were out on patrol. When the pair followed the sounds of destruction and violence, they found a group of local thugs lying sprawled out in various states around the building- one face-first in a trashcan, one bent over an old bench, one shorter man hanging from the shop’s busted door, and another tied up with a gardening hose.

Following the noises into the building, Megavolt keeping one finger charged and Quackerjack priming one marble between his thumb and forefinger in preparation for a fight if they had to, they found another member of the gang from outside currently engaged in battle with what, to their surprise, appeared to be some sort of mutant plant creature.

The mutant plant creature was once a duck, its bill clearly giving that much away. It seemed rather thin, with thorn-covered vines for arms and a cluster of three oblong and lightly-pointed leaves of varying sizes (two large ones and one smaller) at the end of each arm to form its hands. The thorns lessened the closer they got to its shoulders until they reached its torso, which was a solid mass of green the same shade as its vines and actually seemed slightly fuzzy with fine hairs that were visible all over its upper-half. Halfway-down its torso, the green color gradually faded to brown where the fuzzy texture lessened and the texture became woodier, giving it hips and legs that looked like branching, vine-like roots woven together to form the lower appendages in a facsimile of a regular duck’s feet (if slightly more jagged due to the branching off roots here and there).

What caught the heroes’ attention the most, however, was its head: It was green like the rest of its upper body, but with surprisingly bright blue eyes. Or, rather, they assumed both eyes were blue, as one was covered by a large flower petal that fell over half of its face. Sprouting from the top of the mutant’s head was a giant flower that seemed to serve as a sort of “hair-style” for it with five main petals- one curled downward to cover its face, as well as two a little further back that were half-way between drooping at the same level as the one in the front or standing up parallel to the top of its head like the last two on the back of its head- and a cluster of much smaller yellow petals that stood straight up to cover the center of its head.

While they’d encountered quite a few mutants during both of their time as superheroes, this one definitely caught both Megavolt and Quackerjack by surprise with how colorful it looked in comparison.

“Look..this is the last warning I’m gonna give you.” The plant mutant said in a voice that spoke volumes regarding his (they could tell by the voice now) irritation. “Turn around, walk back out to your friends, and LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” Oh yeah, he was definitely irritated and ready to hurt whatever set him off next.

Which, unfortunately, seemed to be the punk currently trying to pick a fight with him. “Ha! You think THOSE chumps are my friends?! Those losers ain’t got nothin’ on me!” He flicked open the knife in his hand and charged at the mutant plant-duck with clear intent.

Quackerjack and Megavolt were about to intervene and break up the fight, when, with a tired and irritated sigh, the plant-duck raised one of his leafy hands and made a snapping motion (no snap came of it, though, because of the texture of his hand, merely a rustling sound). “Spot.”

All three other occupants in the room were briefly confused by the gesture and the seemingly out-of-nowhere word…until they heard a barking sound and the heavy “thump thump thump” of something approaching on multiple limbs.

When the sound got close enough, everyone but the plant mutant was shocked to see a giant purple pitcher plant the size of a mini-van running around on four vines like a large dog. Actually, comparing it to a dog seemed to be pretty accurate, since it opened the top-leaf that served as the upper portion of its mouth and let out a barking sound when it arrived at its master’s side. “Woof! Woof!” As it ran in a circle around its master, Quackerjack and Megavolt could even see a happily wagging “tail’ covered in small white flowers growing out of a green spot on its back.

The plant-duck gave the overly excited pitcher plant a pat on the head before pointing a leafy finger at the current source of his irritation. “Go play, Spot.”

The pitcher plant let out another happy bark before running towards the punk that tried to pick a fight with its master. “Woof!”

Seeing he was clearly outmatched by the giant plant monster, the thug screamed and ran away in fear. “AAAAAH!”

“Uh, Quackerjack..we should probably do something to stop this, huh..?” Megavolt finally asked once the bizarreness of the situation had a chance to settle in his mind.

“Huh?” Quackerjack blinked, finally being brought out of his own state of disbelief. “Oh! Yeah, right, right! You take Dr.Plant-little and I’ll go play with the dog, deal?”

“Works for me.” Megavolt nodded his agreement, the two doing a quick back-handed version of a fist-bump before running off to face their chosen enemies. Megavolt ran over to where the mutated duck was now grabbing a wheelbarrow and filling it with dusty old bags of plant food. “Hold it right there!” He pointed dramatically at the frustrated foliage-themed fiend.

The response he got was an irritated groan when the mutant allowed the plant food in his arms to drop roughly into the wheelbarrow. “What?” He shot Megavolt a glare that, were it tangible, would probably strangle him or set him on fire.

“Acts of violence and thievery are not welcome in this town!” Megavolt pointed at the wheelbarrow accusingly.

“Gee, could’ve fooled me. You DO realize you’re in Saint Canard, right?” The irritated mutant asked sarcastically with a cocked brow and a scowl on his face.

Megavolt scowled slightly himself when the plant-duck brushed him off after that comment and went back to filling his wheelbarrow. “Just because a few people choose to commit crimes doesn’t make it right! If you don’t surrender now, we WILL be forced to subdue you!” He shot a small spark of electricity at the ground near the rooted-feet of his enemy to show he was serious.

Blue eyes momentarily glanced down at where the spark hit before vine-shoulders shrugged indifferently as the rest of the arms continued their work. “You can try- won’t make a difference.” He finished his task and turned his head to call his pet. “Spot, let’s go!” When he didn’t receive a response right away, he started looking around for the giant plant. “Spot?”

Megavolt smirked triumphantly and folded his arms over his chest. “My partner is taking care of your wicked weed as we speak, villain!”

He received a glare from that comment, the irritated plant-person about to say something back to him, but they were interrupted by the loud “thump thump” of the approaching plant-beast.

“Down, boy! Heel!” He heard Quackerjack shout over the thunderously loud footsteps.

Tilting his head to get a better view, Megavolt spotted the clown-hero being dragged behind the pitcher plant by a length of neon-green jump rope tied to the beast’s legs. He could also see that the dog-like mutant’s other feet sported similar ropes of varying colors that had apparently been broken off from whatever they were tied to before.

Megavolt managed to grab onto Quackerjack when the excited plant ran by, helping him up onto his feet. “You okay?”

Quackerjack shook himself briefly to get rid of some of the dirt and dust that had coated the front of his costume. “Yeah..gotta say, I prefer walking the dog with a yo-yo…”

Their attention returned to the pair of purloining plants when the pitcher-dog leaned down and opened its large mouth expectantly. “Try not to eat all of it, okay? Save some for the others.” When the plant nodded to show it understood, the smaller mutant rolled the wheelbarrow directly into its gaping maw. “Alright, let’s head home.” He patted the beast’s head once it closed its mouth. Just as they were about to leave, though, their path was blocked by the colorful heroes, making the former-duck roll his eyes. “Seriously? What are you even gonna do? Arrest me? If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t any prisons around here…well, except for the ones Negaduck uses..”

Megavolt and Quackerjack picked up a bit of loathing in the way the mutant spoke of their town’s dictator, but didn’t have time to question it as the giant dog-like pitcher plant tried to run past them.

Pointing a finger at the plant’s path, Megavolt fired of a bolt of electricity that startled the giant mutant and made it back up a few feet. “!!”

Megavolt stood in the pair’s way, his voice strong and full of conviction while his face was set in a determined glare. “We may have nowhere to send you..but that doesn’t mean we can just let criminals continue to do as they please.”

“This town won’t change unless guys like us MAKE IT change.” Quackerjack was instantly at his side, his baseball bat gripped firmly in his hand and clearly ready for a fight.

The plant-duck looked down slightly after they delivered their lines, a bitter scowl on his face that felt…kind of sad, honestly. “Hmph..what a bunch of sentimental garbage..” He did the snapping motion again. “Spot, head home- I’ll catch up with you.” The pitcher plant started to whine at him, but he gave it a firm glare. “NOW, Spot.”

The plant whimpered, but did as it was told and tried to run past the heroes again.

Once again they prepared to stop it, but, this time, they were the ones who were stopped. Specifically, they were stopped by a pair of leafy hands that stretched over and grabbed each of them by one of their arms, tossing them aside as if they weighed nothing at all.

Megavolt landed on top of some old planting pots (plastic, thankfully, not clay or ceramic) and garden hoses, while Quackerjack managed to right himself in the air and flip over on top of an old gardening tool stand. “!!”

Since Megavolt was a bit disoriented from hitting the pots and tangled in the rubber hoses, Quackerjack was the first one to fight back. He reached into his handy toy-pouch and pulled out a handful of his brightly colored exploding marbles. “So, what should we call you?” He asked while jumping off of the stand and shooting the marbles at the plant mutant one after another using his thumb. “Flower Power? Creep Vine? Poison Ivy- wait, that last one feels copy-righted-”

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” To his credit, the plant man was pretty quick on his feet. He was able to dodge all of Quackerjack’s attacks by running serpentine through the store. What was even more impressive was that, when he ran into obstacles, the roots that formed his feet would detangle and spread out to allow him to climb over anything with ease. At one point, he vanished from sight behind an old shelf full of seed packets. “And I already have a name..” His voice echoed through the store, making it hard for Quackerjack to pinpoint his exact location…until the voice came from directly above him with an irritated sneer. “It’s Bushroot.”

“!!” Quackerjack looked up in alarm to see the plant duck hanging from the rafters by his completely unraveled lower half. He brought his hand back, a different colored marble situated between each finger, and prepared to throw them. However, before he had the chance, something green wrapped around his wrist and restrained it. “Huh?!”

Turning his head, Quackerjack saw that he was being held back by what appeared to be a bunch of dandelions. Following the trail of long stems and flowers, he saw that they originated from a torn-open packet of seeds by the shelf that Bushroot had vanished behind earlier.

“Quackerjack! Look out!” He heard Megavolt calling to him from the other side of the store.

Looking up, he saw Bushroot dropping down from the ceiling as his legs reformed. He landed right in front of Quackerjack and managed to smack the bat out of his other hand before the clown had time to react. With his main weapon gone and his other hand unable to access his backups, Bushroot was able to hold Quackerjack still long enough for more dandelions and various other plants now growing from the wall of seeds to wrap around Quackerjack and fully restrain him.

“Never was a fan of clowns.” Bushroot mused as he looked over the tied-up harlequin. “Except for mimes since, you know, they don’t talk.” He pinched Quackerjack’s beak shut with one leafy hand to prove his point and a tomato vine wrapped around his mouth to effectively muzzle him. And, apparently because either Bushroot, the plant, or both had a sense of humor, the vine sprouted a big red tomato right on the tip of his beak in a mocking gesture. “There, much better.” He grabbed the vines around Quackerjack’s torso and tossed him behind the long-unused register counter. Right afterwards, though, he had to duck to avoid a bolt of electricity that nearly hit him in the face. “Oh yeah..almost forgot about you..”

Megavolt glared at him, now standing up and free of the rubber hoses that had bound him earlier. “This ends now, Bushroot.”

“Wow, talk about cliché.” Bushroot scoffed with a roll of his eyes, one hand resting on his hip and the other doing a lazy “come on” gesture. “Alright, Sparky, let’s get this over with.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.” Megavolt charged electricity down to his hands to prepare his attack, opting for a close-range assault since Quackerjack’s distance strategy offered too many ways for the sneaky creature to escape or hide. “The name’s Megavolt!” He clenched his hands into fists and ran at the plant-hybrid, swinging the charged appendages at the surprisingly agile duck.

Much to Megavolt’s annoyance (and mild amazement), Bushroot was able to dodge every single one of his punches by either using his agile feet to side-step away, or by bending his body at unnatural angles since he seemed to lack bones that would hinder his movements. “You guys are really serious about this whole ‘hero’ thing, huh?” His upper body bent and twisted sideways to avoid a blow to his head. “Word of advice-”

Megavolt felt something wrap around his ankle and looked down briefly to investigate. “Wha-?!” He saw plants, similar to the ones that had caught Quackerjack earlier, grabbing his leg.

“In this world, nice guys ALWAYS finish last.” Bushroot finished his sentence right as the dandelions lifted Megavolt off of the ground and started taking him up towards the rafters.

“Dang it!” Megavolt turned his still mildly-charged hands on the vines and reached up to grab them. Passing the current in his hands into the green stems and leaves, he freed himself by burning the plants holding him captive. That, unfortunately, caused him to start plummeting to the ground. “Woah!” Thinking quickly, he magnetized his shoes and was able to catch himself on a rickety old rack of chicken-wire- the springiness of the light-weight wires able to cushion his landing.

Recovering from the fall, Megavolt rushed to get back up onto his feet, preparing himself for whatever attack was about to come next. To his surprise, though, there was no attack waiting for him.

Instead, he saw Bushroot holding out his hands so that the burned plants could fall down from the ceiling into his waiting grasp. “Shh..it’s okay..” He soothed the slightly quivering flowers by patting them gently with two of his leafy fingers. He then carefully started pinching off the burned pieces of the plants until only the green was left. Once it was clear, he rubbed the raw edges of the stems to soothe them further. “There we go..little water, some food, and you’ll be good to go..” He moved the flowers up onto his shoulders, where they curled around him like some sort of scarf or a pet snake.

“……” Megavolt was…well, for lack of a better word, SHOCKED by the surprisingly tender display. He’d never seen a villain act so caring or paternal towards their weapons and/or minions before.

While he was caught in that stunned state of trying to process what he’d just seen, Bushroot stretched one of his already long arms so that it could reach the area of garden hoses that Megavolt had fallen in earlier. “Alright, I’m bored. Let’s wrap this up.” He brought the hose over to himself and gripped it in both hands while glaring at Megavolt.

Still a bit thrown off from the villainous vegetation’s previous demeanor, Megavolt clenched his hands into fists again. “Y-Yeah..right..” He charged a little electricity into them, but it was nowhere near the amount he’d used before- his heart just wasn’t in it this time.

The two rushed at each other again, Megavolt throwing punches while Bushroot evaded. Only, this time, Bushroot looked for openings and, when he found them, bound Megavolt’s hands one after the other by catching them mid-strike with the rubber hose. This was a sound strategy, as the rubber was not only difficult to break out of, but it also cut off the flow of Megavolt’s electricity.

Soon enough, Bushroot had both of Megavolt’s hands tied behind his back and had even tied them to his feet for good measure. “There..” He let out an exhausted sigh when he finished and lifted Megavolt easily by his arm, tossing him behind the counter next to the still bound and squirming Quackerjack. “Do me a favor next time you see me-” Bushroot leaned over the register-counter to glare down at the pair of heroes, a stern, warning tone to his voice. “Leave me ALONE.” Having said his piece, he turned and walked away, but not before calling one last message over his shoulder. “Oh, and for the record- THEY started it.”

After Bushroot left, it took about twenty minutes of Megavolt biting through the vines tying up Quackerjack for the clown to finally break free and untie the electrical rodent as well.

“Sooo…” Quackerjack began, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out in front of him. “We just got our butt’s handed to us by a talking thorn bush, huh?”

“Yeah.” Megavolt rubbed at his sore wrists under his gloves. “Yeah, we did..”

Neither of them were strangers to losing battles- it kind of came with the hero territory, especially in a city of so many super-powerful beings in a place like Saint Canard- but, since they’d teamed up, the two of them were usually able to handle whatever adversary they came across with varying degrees of ease or difficulty.

In the months since the two had known each other, aside from Negaduck and his lackeys they had NEVER fought someone that was both strong and clever enough to beat them so effortlessly and it was, honestly, a bit unnerving.

Quackerjack jumped up to his feet, offering Megavolt a hand up. “Wanna track him back to his lair?” Megavolt pulled himself up with Quackerjack’s help, but, before he could answer, something on the counter caught the jester’s eye. “Huh? Hold the phone, Megs..” He reached over with his free hand and grabbed the object he’d spotted by the register, showing it to Megavolt. “Check this out..”

Megavolt’s eyes widened when he saw the crumpled up wad of fifty dollar bills in Quackerjack’s hand. “He PAYED?!!!”

“Yeah..” Quackerjack looked down at the money as well. “If he’s supposed to be a villain, he sure doesn’t make a lot of CENTS.”

Megavolt rolled his eyes slightly at the pun, but was too busy processing everything they’d just witnessed.

Maybe there was more to the moody plant mutant than there appeared to be…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time they ran into Bushroot, Megavolt and Quackerjack were responding to a shrill scream and had gone to investigate.

When they arrived, they saw Bushroot lifting a crying little dog girl with white fur up onto the back of his pitcher plant pet while a woman, clearly the girl’s mother, shouted at him.

“You put her down this instant, you disgusting freak!” The woman shouted, seething with anger but keeping her distance since she clearly understood that attacking him would be unwise. “Give her back RIGHT NOW!”

Bushroot just scowled at her and folded his thorny arms over his chest with a cocked brow. “Oh yeah? And what if I say no? What are YOU gonna do about it? Hit me?” When her only answer was to glare and fume silently, the corner of Bushroot’s beak lifted slightly in a smirk. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.” He turned back to the girl and his pet and patted Spot on his side. “C’mon, Spot, let’s go.”

“Not so fast, Bushroot!” Megavolt shouted, sending a warning spark from the tip of his finger to land near the plant mutant’s feet and get his attention.

Bushroot turned to look at the heroic duo and glared. “You two? Seriously?”

“Yep. Us two. Seriously.” Quackerjack replied sarcastically with a grin before sticking his tongue out at the grumpy plant man childishly.

“Return that girl to her mother right now!” Megavolt commanded while pointing another electrically-charged finger at Bushroot.

Bushroot didn’t flinch or even bat an eye at the tone of Megavolt’s voice or the clear but unspoken threat of physical violence. “Yeah- not gonna happen.” He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed in a silent warning of his own. “You couldn’t stop me last time- this won’t be that different.” He unfolded one arm and patted Spot on his side. “Get her out of here, Spot- go.”

“Woof!” Spot let out a loud bark and ran off, bounding past the heroes and the girl’s mother thanks to Bushroot reaching his long arms over to shove all three of them aside roughly.

“No!” Megavolt scrambled to his feet and ran after the pitcher plant. “I’ll get the girl!”

“I don’t think so.” Bushroot tried to grab him again to prevent his pursuit, but his long arm was suddenly pinned to the ground by the tip of Quackerjack’s bat.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Quackerjack wagged one finger at Bushroot in a scolding manner. “You get to play with me first, Bush-brain.” Quackerjack flicked his bat, sending the green appendage back in the direction of its owner and standing in Bushroot’s path with a challenging grin on his face. “You won our game of hide and seek last time, so I think I should get to choose the game this time. Sound like fun?”

Bushroot glared at him with an irritated scowl. “Sounds like something, but fun’s not the word I’d choose..”

“Awww, c’moooonn- this one’s a classic!” Quackerjack gave him a fake pout and reached into his toy pouch to grab something. “It was one of my FAVORITE games for recess.” He pulled out a small red sphere that, when he pressed a button on the bottom, inflated into a big red ball. “Dodgeball!!” The excited clown shouted as he threw the ball at Bushroot.

Bushroot easily dodged the ball by leaning to the side. “Eh, never really saw the appeal of dodgeball..the ‘dodge’ part’s fine-” He suddenly ducked, narrowly avoiding the ball when it rebounded off of a wall behind him and nearly hit him in the head. “It’s the ‘ball’ part I’m not a fan of…” He glared at the ball that was now faintly flashing red.

Quackerjack held out his hand and the ball returned to it as if it were magnetic. “What? Seriously? But half the game’s only half the fun!” He tossed the ball again with a chuckle. “Why don’t you try and catch it!”

Bushroot dodged the ball again both times- the first time when it was thrown at him and then again when it rebounded back to Quackerjack. “Gee, thanks, but…no.” He replied sarcastically. “It probably explodes or something, right?”

“Or something.” Quackerjack answered vaguely with a mischievous grin and a giggle. “You’ll see when you lose!” He reached into the pouch again and pulled out a handful of the little red balls, tossing them on the ground to activate them.

Meanwhile, Megavolt was in hot pursuit of the pitcher plant and the girl clinging fearfully to its back. He had magnetized his shoes and was now skating across the tops of the power lines, using the electrical currents running through them to go even faster.

Finally seeing an opening, he jumped over to another set of cables and slid down to the ground so that he ended up ahead of Spot and the girl. “Sit!” He commanded, holding a hand out to stop the plant in its tracks.

“Woof!” Instantly, the puppy-minded plant skidded to a halt and sat down on the ground in front of Megavolt, its tail wagging excitedly.

“Good boy.” Megavolt praised, slowly walking closer. “Now..just give me the girl..”

When he made a move to reach for her, however, the large plant suddenly stood up again and growled, even shaking its “head” back and forth in a negative motion. “Rrrrh!” It backed up, squatting slightly on its front legs like a dog ready to attack.

“Easy, boy..” Megavolt tried to soothe it with one hand, discretely charging electricity into his other hand while hiding it behind his back just in case. It appeared to be working at first, so Megavolt took a step closer. “That’s it..just relax..I just want to-”

“Camilla, you get off of that disgusting thing THIS INSTANT!!” The voice of the woman from earlier suddenly shouted, making Megavolt turn his head to see her running up to them from down the street and looking rather winded.

Whatever progress he’d been making with Spot was suddenly and rudely shattered when the pet plant let out a decidedly darker and more vicious growl, backing away from Megavolt and the approaching woman. “!!!!!”

“AAAAAAH!” The girl, still clinging to Spot’s back, screamed and held onto it tighter when it began to move. “No!!”

The plant took off running again and Megavolt chased after it, firing off the electrical charge from his hand in an attempt to scorch one of its feet just badly enough to trip it.

The attack worked, but it sent the girl flying into the air. “!!” Megavolt ran as fast as he could, then, at the last second, he charged two blasts of energy to his feet and used them to propel himself up into the air. He managed to grab the girl and magnetized his shoes to some metal siding on a nearby building so they could slide down safely. “Whew..that was a close one..”

To his surprise, the girl in his arms started crying again and struggled in his grasp once they were on the ground. “No! Let me go! Let me go!”

“W-Woah, there! It’s okay! You’re safe now! I’m one of the good guys, promise!” He tried to calm her down and keep her from running away. However, in the process of doing so, and thanks to his closer proximity to her now, he saw something dark under her white far that he’d missed earlier. “Huh? Wait..” He carefully pushed some of the fur on her cheek aside and it confirmed what he thought he’d seen: Bruises. Large bruises of varying shapes and colors scattered between her face and her neck that were far too big, and some far too old, to have been caused by Bushroot with his leafy hands just a few minutes ago. “Who did this to you..?” He asked with a frown, his confusion replaced with concern and righteous fury for the poor girl’s state.

His question was quickly answered when the girl’s mother started to catch up to them. The girl saw her coming and gasped, a panicked look in her eyes. “Ah!” She squirmed out of Megavolt’s grasp and ran back over to the pitcher plant. “Help me! Please!”

Spot whimpered as it stood back up on its vines properly, but it lowered itself enough that the girl could climb onto it again. “Woof!”

As Megavolt watched the girl interacting with the pitcher plant- as he saw the fear in her eyes looking at her own mother and the way the injured giant waited until she was clinging to it securely to move again- he finally understood the truth of what happened.

“……” With a strong stride that spoke of firm convictions, Megavolt stepped out in front of the pitcher plant while facing the approaching woman. He raised a single finger and pointed it at her, firing a spark that hit the ground near her feet. “That’s far enough!”

The woman gasped in surprise and nearly fell back to avoid the warning shot. “Wha-?! What are you doing?! That beast has my daughter! Aren’t you supposed to be a hero or something?! Do the right thing and BRING. HER. TO. ME!” The indignation and rage was clear in her voice, but Megavolt chose to ignore her.

“I am doing the right thing.” Megavolt turned around to face Spot, holding one hand out by way of a peace offering and keeping the other one visible this time to show he wasn’t planning anything. “Sorry about earlier. Can you take me back to Bushroot?”

“……” Spot was quiet for a moment before barking and nuzzling Megavolt’s out-stretched hand. “Woof!” Spot kneeled down so that Megavolt could climb on too, its tail wagging happily behind it.

“Thanks, Spot.” Megavolt gave it a gentle pat on its head before climbing on behind the girl, holding onto Spot with one hand and her with the other to help steady her.

With an excited bark the plant took off running back the way they’d come from, though not without bowling over the indignant and enraged mother and knocking her into a pile of very old and disgusting trash bags along the way.

By the time they’d returned to where they’d left Quackerjack and Bushroot fighting, the tide had certainly turned in Quackerjack’s favor.

While he’d gone down from five flashing red balls to two, the sacrifice of his toys had been worth it: All across the impromptu battlefield were globs of a red putty-like substance that seemed very sticky and squishy at the same time.

Bushroot looked exceptionally irritated, as he was currently stuck in one of the globs. Specifically, his arm was stuck in one on the side of a building, leaving him pinned in place. “……” He glared silently at the giggling jester in front of him.

“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself in a pretty STICKY SITUATION, eh, Bushy?” Quackerjack teased while idly balancing the two remaining balls on the tip of his bat. “Maybe it’s time for you make like a tree and LEAF.” He laughed at his own joke, ignoring the way Bushroot rolled his eyes. “Unless you’d rather STICK AROUND!”

Bushroot scowled at him. “Do you EVER stop talking?”

“Hmmm…” Quackerjack tilted his head in mock-thought before shrugging. “Who knows? It’s a MYS-TREE to me!”

Bushroot groaned and looked down with a shake of his head. “That one barely even works…”

Their bantering was interrupted by the noisy return of Spot and his passengers. “Woof!”

“Spot?!” Bushroot stared at his pet in shock. “What are you doing?! I told you to get out of here!” The dog-like plant started to bark something at him, but it only seemed to rile him up more. “HE BURNED YOU?!!” Bushroot’s earlier shock turned into rage and he started pulling against the putty holding his arm to the wall.

“Hey, take it easy there, Bush-brain.” Quackerjack let one of the balls drop back into his other hand, preparing to throw it. “Don’t make me-” Whatever he was about to say died on his tongue when he saw the upper half of Bushroot’s trapped arm start to tear and green liquid ooze out. “H-Hey, take it easy! You don’t have to-!”

“!!!” With a pained hiss and a clenching of his teeth, Bushroot tore his own arm off to escape. “Out of my way!” He tried to run past Quackerjack, shoving the shocked clown out of his path with his remaining hand.

Still startled by the plant-duck’s act of self-mutilation, Quackerjack ended up dropping his bat and the remaining red balls he had. Regardless, he caught his balance and tried to grab Bushroot by his more in-tact arm. “Wait a sec-OW!” He winced when his bare hand met the various sizes of thorns on the viney appendage.

“Wha-?!” Bushroot’s anger turned to shock once more as he tried to snatch his arm away. “Are you an idiot?! Don’t touch me!!”

The warning seemed to come too late, though, and Quackerjack started to sway on his feet right as Megavolt finally reached them on Spot’s back. “Quackerjack?!” He jumped down and ran over just in time to catch his partner when he fell over. “Quackerjack!!”

“Sparky..?” Quackerjack wheezed out, his gaze hazy and unfocused. “I..I feel funny- not haha funny…why are you green…?” His eyes began to close and Megavolt felt a surge of dread creep into him.

“H-Hey! Come on, Quackerjack! Stay with me!” He patted the duck’s face a few times in an attempt to wake him up.

“Dang it..!” Bushroot scowled and snapped his leafy fingers at Spot. “Open up!” Spot did as it was asked and kneeled down low to the ground with its mouth wide open. Bushroot then walked over to the pair of heroes and grabbed Quackerjack’s hand to examine the thorns that had broken off into his skin. “We need to get him to my green house.” He tugged Megavolt along roughly by his elbow and pointed at Spot’s mouth. “Put him in there- head first.”

“……” Megavolt looked at the sticky interior of the purple plant, feeling reasonably hesitant about placing his partner in crime-fighting inside of a carnivorous plant.

“Oh, for the love of-!” Bushroot rubbed his hand over his face in annoyance. “We don’t have time for this! Look, Spot’s insides are sticky, so that’ll keep him from moving around! Plus he can start leeching out some of the toxins and thorns on the way there!” When Megavolt still hesitated, Bushroot snapped at him. “Do you want him to live or not?!!”

Megavolt blinked in surprise at the tone of the other man’s voice.

Yes, it was definitely frustrated, but it was a frustration born of something else…

Worry?

Desperation?

Concern?

Guilt?

He couldn’t tell at the moment, but, as he took one look from the frustrated expression on Bushroot’s face, to Quackerjack in his arms, then finally to the little girl still seated on Spot’s back, he made a decision he felt was the right one in that moment.

“Alright. I trust you.” Megavolt said as he carefully placed his friend into the large plant’s waiting mouth.

“……” Bushroot’s brows knit together for a brief moment at the other’s choice of words, but he ignored it with a shake of his head and reached in with his elongated arm to help settle Quackerjack properly- even making sure that his injured hand was palm-down against the area at the bottom of the plant’s body near a pool of liquid. “Get on.” He commanded with a jerk of his head as he followed his own advice and climbed on top of Spot.

Megavolt did as requested after grabbing Quackerjack’s bat and took his place from earlier behind the girl to help hold her in place.

The whole time they were riding on Spot’s back, Megavolt quietly prayed that his friend would be okay- that they would get to the greenhouse Bushroot spoke of in time. And that he really was making the right decision…

They reached their destination around sunset, the last of the light dwindling by the time they arrived at the surprisingly well-maintained greenhouse.

Bushroot was the first one to jump off of Spot’s back and he was already motioning for the pitcher plant to open up once again. “We don’t have much time left- carry him inside.” He directed the order to Megavolt once Spot opened its mouth enough for them to retrieve Quackerjack from inside. “Spot, take the girl and, I don’t know, go play with the petunias or something.”

Spot barked happily and ran off with the girl, taking her over to a small patch of dancing flowers just outside of the greenhouse. “Woof!”

Bushroot then led Megavolt inside, the various trees, shrubs, and flowers swaying and reacting to their master’s presence immediately. “Yeah, yeah, hey..” He grumbled as he made his way to an open patch of grass. With a wave of his hand, the patch of grass sprouted new plants that grew surprisingly quickly and smelled strongly of-

“Green tea leaves?” Megavolt questioned while sniffing the air.

“They can help stop bleeding.” Bushroot explained with a waving gesture indicating he wanted Megavolt to set Quackerjack down in the fragrant patch while he busied himself with going to various herbs and flowers around the green house. “Hey, guys..yeah, sorry, I hate to ask this..really? Okay, thanks, I appreciate it.” He went to an equipment locker against one of the walls and pulled out a bottle of water, a bowl, a jar of black powder, a pair of scissors, and, oddly enough, some surgical tubing and alcohol.

In a hurry, he carelessly dropped most of the gathered equipment on the floor, leaving only the bowl and scissors in his hand. As he started going around to the various plants he’d spoken with before, he carefully clipped off different pieces- seed pods, leaves, roots, even whole stalks or flowers- and collecting them in the bowl.

“Is there anything I can do?” Megavolt asked, feeling bad that he was just standing there doing nothing while his friend was dying –heck, even the tea leaves were helping out by removing the thorns still embedded in Quackerjack’s hand!

Bushroot paused a second to think over the question before pointing at the bottle with his scissors, keeping the bowl propped against his torso with his damaged arm. “Heat that up for me.”

Megavolt nodded while Bushroot continued gathering the ingredients he needed. “Got it.” He picked up the bottle and opened it before concentrating a small electrical current into the container. Minding his powers and controlling them could be difficult at times, but he kept his mind focused by reminding himself how important it was not to mess up. “For Quackerjack..” He muttered, closing his eyes and maintaining the current just enough to cause heat but trying not to warp or damage the plastic and spill the liquid inside.

“That’s good enough.” Bushroot’s voice cut through his thoughts and Megavolt opened his eyes to see the plant duck seated beside him on the ground with the bowl of plant parts in his lap. However long he’d been focusing on the bottle had apparently been enough time for Bushroot to chop up the various plants he’d gathered into tiny pieces. “Pour it in.” He instructed while managing to open the jar of black powder and pouring a fair amount of it into the bowl as well.

Megavolt did as he was told and poured the hot water into the bowl with the other ingredients, watching as Bushroot summoned a series of vines that rotated quickly like beaters for a mixer to combine the bowl’s contents accordingly. “What is that stuff anyway?”

“A few aromatic flowers to open up his airway, some herbs to restore any lost nutrients and boost his immune system, and some activated charcoal to absorb the toxins in his bloodstream.” Bushroot explained, checking the consistency of the mixture to make sure it was thin enough before dismissing the vines.

“Charcoal?” Megavolt questioned disbelievingly at the idea of putting charcoal into someone’s body. “Is that safe??”

“It’s a centuries-old, well-proven method for treating deadly nightshade poisoning.” Bushroot assured him while grabbing the surgical tubing. “Roll up his sleeve so I can find a vein.” Once Megavolt did as the plant-duck asked, Bushroot took the scissors from earlier and used them to cut a small incision into Quackerjack’s arm after finding the proper vein. “Good. Now, hold him still.”

Megavolt moved to the other side of Quackerjack’s unconscious body and held his arms down. “Just hold on a little longer, Quacky..” He said softly, looking down at the duck’s flushed and sweat-dampened feathered face as he remained completely unaware of what was going on around him.

Bushroot carefully inserted one end of the surgical tubing into the open wound, a large leaf-bearing plant sprouting up beside him and curling into the other end of the tube to act as a funnel. “Alright..here goes nothing…” He brought the bowl up to the make-shift funnel and began to pour in the freshly made medicine.

Quackerjack remained still at first…but that didn’t last long.

A few seconds after the mixture began to enter his veins, the duck’s eyes flew open and he stared ahead unseeingly. “!!!!” His mouth opened in a silent scream and he began to thrash against Megavolt’s hold in a panic.

“Quackerjack! Quackerjack, calm down!” Megavolt held his friend down harder, not wanting to hurt him but not being given much choice in the matter.

The silent screaming soon gave way to ACTUAL screaming once Bushroot finished pouring the mixture in. “Just hold him a little longer!” Once the bowl was empty, he tossed it aside and used his hand to hold the tube in place while the last of it entered Quackerjack’s bloodstream.

“Spiders! They’re crawling on me! In my brain! In my veins!” Quackerjack’s screaming began to form words, but they were all nonsense and he seemed deaf to Megavolt’s voice. “Ahahahaha! It tickles! I see it! Rainbows- so many colors! I can taste them! I-!” His eyes rolled back into his head and he gasped sharply before going still again, his eyes shutting.

Megavolt reached up to check the pulse on Quackerjack’s neck, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt the tell-tale thump of a heartbeat beneath his fingertips. “Is he gonna be okay? What was all that?” He questioned while looking at Bushroot with concern.

Bushroot took a seat and began carefully removing the tube from the clown’s arm. “He’ll be fine. Hallucinations and delirium are common side-effects of solanum carolinense poisoning, but his breathing is stable now and the poison’s moving out of his body thanks to the charcoal.” Once the tube was out, he held out his hand and another leafy plant grew so he could pluck the leaf and wrap it around the spot the tube had just occupied with some tea leaves underneath to help stop the bleeding.

“Good…” Megavolt said simply as they sat there and watched over Quackerjack. Unfortunately, now that the threat to his partner’s life was gone, things felt…awkward. “Um..thanks for helping him-”

“Don’t thank me.” Bushroot replied automatically without even looking at him.

They sat there in a tense silence for a few minutes while Megavolt tried to think of what else he could say.

“Sorry..about blasting Spot..and about your arm-” He began, feeling that would be an appropriate conversation starter.

Apparently Bushroot disagreed, however, because he cut Megavolt off once again. “We’re plants. We’ll heal. It’s fine.”

This was getting painful. Seriously, what do you say to someone you had pegged for a villain after they’ve saved your friend’s life?

“Is there..uh..something we can do to repay yo-” He tried to start another conversation, but was interrupted yet again.

“Just leave.” Bushroot said firmly, finally getting back up to gather his equipment. “And take the girl with you- you two can probably find a better place for her.” He turned away from Megavolt, using the bowl to hold everything he’d used that evening.

“Fine..” Megavolt conceded, carefully picking up Quackerjack’s unconscious body and making his way to the door.

When he was close to the exit, however, he heard Bushroot speak one more time. “He’s gonna feel nauseous when he wakes up- that’s normal. Make sure he stays hydrated, but no ice water or he’ll feel worse. If his fever comes back..just…I don’t know, bring him here or something…”

Megavolt couldn’t help but smile slightly at the plant-duck’s tone of voice. He was trying to come off as cold and clinical, like a doctor giving a diagnosis. But, beneath the harsh exterior and forced neutrality of his tone of voice, Megavolt could hear the genuine worry and caring nature hidden deep down that the odd creature was trying so hard to hide.

“I will. Thanks.” He replied without turning around.

“I told you not to thank-” Bushroot turned to snap at the hero, but it was his turn to be cut off- this time by the closing of the door after the two heroes were already gone.

Finally alone once more in his greenhouse (well, alone aside from his plants, of course), Bushroot allowed himself to heave a sigh, the tension releasing from his hunched shoulders all at once.

He looked oddly relieved..yet..sad…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The third time they ran into Bushroot was on purpose.

Bushroot was busy tending to his greenhouse when, much to his startled surprise, there was a knock at his front door. “?!” He glared suspiciously at the door, preparing for a fight, when Spot ran up to it and started barking excitedly. “Huh..?” Deciding to investigate, he walked to the door and squinted through the glass to see two very familiar color combinations standing outside. “Ugggh..” He rolled his eyes and opened the door to see a pair of heroes standing there “WHAT?” He asked with a clearly irritated expression, folding his thorned arms over his chest.

“Good to see you too, Bushy.” Quackerjack grinned at the clearly annoyed flower-headed duck, keeping one hand held behind his back. He looked at Bushroot’s arm and his smile softened slightly. “Your arm feeling okay?”

Bushroot spared a glance down at it and shrugged. “It grew back after a couple days.” He glanced over to Quackerjack’s hand- the one that had been pierced by his thorns and was now currently wrapped in bandages. “Your hand…?”

“Like almost-new.” Quackerjack noticed the look of poorly concealed concern and raised the wrapped hand up to wiggle each of the fingers in demonstration. “See?” He pointed his thumb at Megavolt with a childish pout. “The only reason I’m still wearing these is because Sparky here’s a worry-wart.”

“Don’t call me Sparky.” Megavolt replied automatically, but there wasn’t any real annoyance behind his words. “Can we come in for a bit?” He directed his attention back to Bushroot.

Bushroot eyed them skeptically, one brow cocked. “You’re not here to arrest me or something, right?”

“No, but that is part of what we wanted to talk to you about.” Megavolt’s answer was elusive, but his tone was straight-forward and honest- something Bushroot could appreciate.

“Fine..” The perpetually-grumpy plant-duck led them further into the green house. Not having any real furniture (due to not needing any), Bushroot had to wave his hand to summon soft, gigantic flowers for them to sit on- one by itself for him and two across from it for the others. “So..” He began while taking his seat. “What do you want?”

Quackerjack and Megavolt took their seats across from him, Quackerjack being the first one to speak after hiding whatever it was he’d brought in behind his back. “Gee, right to the point. Not even gonna offer us a drink first?” He teased.

“All I’ve got is water and pesticide.” Bushroot responded dryly. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you’re here, or should I just cut to the part where I throw you out?”

Megavolt sighed in mild annoyance and rubbed his eyes under his safety-glasses. “Ignore Quackerjack, he can’t be serious to save his life…literally.”

“Aw, it was one time!” Quackerjack pretended to pout before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Besides, the look on that witch’s face was priceless!”

Bushroot got the feeling that was supposed to be a pun of some sort, but one that was more situational humor that he wouldn’t understand without a story that he really wasn’t in the mood for. So, instead, he just did a “hurry up” gesture with his hand to move the conversation along.

“We wanted to apologize for how we treated you.” Megavolt began, the frown on his face clearly showing the guilt he felt. “We judged you way too harshly, and we know that you’re not a bad guy now.”

“Yes I am.” Bushroot insisted with a scowl, leaning back in his flower-chair with his arms crossed defiantly. “I’m a poisonous species of plant mutant that can kill anything I touch. I stay out here so I don’t have to deal with the stupid people in town because I HATE everyone. The closest thing I have to ‘friends’ are my plants- plants that I create and control.”

“Plants like Spot?” Quackerjack questioned with a quirked brow while casting a poignant look in the direction of the large pitcher plant that was currently chasing its own flowery tail in circles. “Because that’s really not helping your case, Bushy.”

“He’s a carnivorous plant that can dissolve people with acid if he swallows them.” Bushroot glared at the overly cheerful and sarcastic clown.

Quackerjack smirked at the frustrated plant in amusement. “Funny, I don’t FEEL digested.”

“That can be changed.” Bushroot warned him, growing more frustrated with the clown by the minute. “EASILY.”

“Like I said, ignore him.” Megavolt reached over and lightly smacked Quackerjack on the back of his head before looking at Bushroot with a serious expression again. “And we know you’re not a bad guy. Honestly, I don’t think you ever were, even before..” He gestured to Bushroot’s body as a whole. “THAT.”

Bushroot scowled slightly and looked away, his arms wrapping tighter around himself. “You don’t know anything about me…”

Megavolt frowned, easily able to see through the mutant’s façade now that he knew what to look for. “We know that you’re a better person than you pretend to be. Those guys at the gardening store started the fight with you, but you didn’t kill or seriously injure any of them. You easily could’ve killed US, but you let us live. You didn’t have to pay for the things you took, but you did, even though no one even worked at that store anymore.”

Quackerjack nodded in agreement, finally allowing himself to be slightly more serious. “Not to mention the whole ‘saving my life’ thing.”

“I was the one that poisoned you.” Bushroot tried to retort, but it was half-hearted at best.

“No, I poisoned MYSELF when I grabbed you.” Quackerjack reached behind himself and finally revealed the large but flat box that he’d carried in with him, holding it out towards Bushroot expectantly. “Which reminds me- this is my way of saying thanks.”

Bushroot glared at the box, refusing to touch it. “I don’t want it- I told you not to thank me.”

“Bushroot..” Megavolt cut in before Quackerjack could say something about the plant-duck’s attitude. “Whether you want to admit it or not..you’re a hero. You’re a good person that wants to help others- we can tell. You saved Quackerjack’s life, even though you didn’t have to.”

“I just didn’t want you to come looking for ‘heroic vengeance’ or something..” Bushroot scowled, clearly uncomfortable with being called a ‘hero’.

“And what about the girl?” Megavolt questioned, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Bushroot frowned and glared at the floor, not having a comeback for that one. “…….”

Megavolt’s gaze softened slightly as he continued. “She told us everything. About her mother hurting her, about you stepping in and yelling at her mom, and about you saving her. You didn’t HAVE to do any of that. She was a complete stranger. You could have just ignored it and walked away and nothing would’ve happened-”

“What was I supposed to do?!” Bushroot snapped, finally uncrossing his arms and glaring at them. “Just stand by and do nothing?!”

“Only if you were as cold and mean as you pretend to be.” Quackerjack commented with a smile that was slightly teasing, but mostly just understanding.

Bushroot’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open for a moment when he realized exactly what he’d said. “!!”

Megavolt’s smile matched Quackerjack’s. “You act tough and scary but, deep down, you’re a good man that just wants to help people- like us. The only thing we don’t know is WHY you try to hide it.”

“…‘Why’?” Bushroot asked once his shock turned to frustration once again. “You REALLY wanna know why?” His leafy hands clenched at his sides, a scowl on his face. “It’s because this world takes ‘good men’, chews them up, and spits them out when they’ve got nothing left to give. I TRIED being a good person. I TRIED helping the world…and look what it got me..” He uncurled one of his hands and looked at it, the anger that had started to creep into his voice slowly being replaced with sadness. “I was a botanist, you know..probably not the best, but I was still good at my job. I was coming up with a way for people to feed off of sunlight and water like plants, thinking that would be a way for me to solve world hunger and get me everything I ever wanted- fame, glory, money…love…but Negaduck’s ‘no plants’ law made being a botanist impossible unless you found a way to make him money or weapons. When he found out about my research, he threatened to close down my whole department. My so called ‘colleagues’ kicked me to the curb without a second thought.” His eyes drifted over to the remains of some long-damaged machinery in the corner of the greenhouse that looked like they once contained a pair of raising platforms. “I figured my life was over anyway, so why not go all-or-nothing? I tried my experiment on myself and..well…” He held his arms out for emphasis. “You can see how well that turned out.” He lowered his arms again to look down at his twisted root-feet. “It was..surprising..but my research ACTUALLY worked! I ran back to show the others and they said that they were..they were actually..impressed with me…” He choked back a bubble of some sort of emotion on the word “impressed”, unintentionally letting the other two know how much that meant to him. “Rho- I mean, Dr.Dendron, one of my co-workers, asked me to meet with her that night. I thought I was finally getting everything I ever wanted…” The next expression they saw on his face looked…heartbroken. “But..it was all a trap…they went behind my back and called Negaduck. When I went to meet Dr.Dendron, he was waiting there instead and he gave me an option: Make an army of plant mutants for him, or let my colleagues dissect me so they could figure out how to do it themselves. I barely escaped with my head…” He shuddered painfully at the memory, wrapping his arms around himself in a subconscious need for safety and comfort. “So..that’s why I’d rather stay out here…why I’d rather make people think that I’m a horrible monster…it’s better than letting them think I’m just another sap they can take advantage of.” He looked back up at them, a bitter frown on his face. “Do you two get it now? Being ‘nice’ or ‘good’ in this world..it’s pointless..you’ll just be a loser in the end…”

Megavolt was silent for a while, absorbing everything Bushroot just told him. With everything he’d said, he could definitely understand why he felt so betrayed and disheartened with the world and its people. But, even still, he had to-

“Boy, do I know how that story goes.” Surprisingly, it was Quackerjack that spoke up first. Both Megavolt and Bushroot looked to see him reclining back as far as his floral seat would allow, the box he’d brought with him sitting in his lap. “You know, I used to work at a toy company.” He began with a wistful smile. “That’s actually where I got the name from- it was called ‘Quackerjack Toys’, and we were one of the biggest toy companies in the world for a while. I was PRETTY high up there on the corporate ladder, too. I tried to be a role model for other big-shots like me and started all sorts of things like orphanages and children’s hospitals and charities. I thought I could use my money to make a difference in the world.” His smile fell slightly, looking much sadder than his usual grins. “But..then Negaduck started to change things in the city…I tried speaking out. I tried rallying people together to stand against him..and he decided to silence me for it. He teamed up with one of my company’s biggest enemies- Whiffle Co. Video Games- and they framed me for embezzlement and grand-larceny. I went to prison because Negaduck had the judge in his pocket and spent years in there..most of it in solitary..” His fingers fidgeted slightly and he brought one of his bells around to the front so he could give his hands something to occupy themselves with. “It was..well…it was terrible, not gonna lie. I kept trying to find a way out, or find a reason why what happened wasn’t so bad, but half the time I just wound up stuck in solitary confinement again. I..went pretty crazy for a while there. I started to hate other people...and hate myself even more. I started to wonder if anything I ever did mattered at all. I mean, I dedicated so much of my life to helping other people, but where were they when I needed help? There was no one…” His smile lifted slightly after he took a deep breath. “But..then I met someone really sweet while I was there..she helped me out and I decided that I wanted to help other people, too. She tried to talk me out of it- she said I’d spent enough time trying to help others and that I should just worry about myself for a change.” He shook his head with a sad chuckle. “I tried to do what she said, I really did..but..I couldn’t fight it- helping people is just a part of who I am. No matter how mad I get at the world, I feel like I have to try and smile so the rest of the world can learn to smile back.” He looked at Bushroot with an understanding smile, handing him the box again and looking relieved when Bushroot actually took it that time. “So..I get it. This world is really messed up and it makes it hard to be nice sometimes..but I think that’s just a bigger reason to fight bullies like Negaduck even harder- otherwise, they win and that’s the end of it all…and I know I can’t just sit back and let that happen.”

Bushroot looked down at the box in his hands for a while, clearly debating about what to say in response, when both he and Quackerjack were startled by a muffled sniffle. “???” They turned their heads towards the sound and saw Megavolt holding his face in one hand and his safety glasses in the other, his shoulders shaking as if he were…crying?

“Megs?” Quackerjack frowned and placed a hand on the rat’s shoulder. “You okay there, buddy?”

Concern was clear on his face and in his voice, and for good reason: He’d never seen Megavolt cry before, over ANYTHING. No matter how badly injured he’d seen the electrifying hero, or how dejected he’d looked after a lost fight with Negaduck and his goons, the rodent had stayed as bright as the lightning bolt on his cape.

Now, though, when he removed his hand from his face and looked down at the glasses in his other hand with his glistening shrunken pupils, he looked so..small..and frail…and so, so very tired..

“I…I’m sorry…” Megavolt took a few deep breaths to try calming himself down, but the pained frown remained on his face. “It’s just..when I hear about good people like the two of you that had their lives ruined by Negaduck, it reminds me of how much I’ve messed up…and…how it’s all MY fault…”

“Your fault?” Bushroot questioned the miserable rodent. “How the heck is any of that YOUR fault?”

“Because I haven’t been able to stop Negaduck, no matter how many times I’ve tried.” Megavolt’s frown turned bitter, his empty hand clenching into a fist.

Bushroot stared at him in mild surprise. “Wait, wait, back up- you’ve fought that psycho before?”

“And on your OWN?” Quackerjack’s look matched Bushroot’s as the pair stared at Megavolt in clear expectation of an answer. The pair of heroes had gone up against Negaduck more than once, sure, but he’d never said anything about previous fights with the chainsaw wielding psychopath from before the two of them had teamed up. Quackerjack sure as heck wouldn’t have tried to do that by himself, even with his questionable sanity!

Megavolt gave a half-hearted smile and rubbed his thumb along the edge of the glasses in his hand. “You guys already told your stories, guess it’s only fair for me to do the same.” He took another deep breath before looking up at them again. “This probably comes as a BIG surprise, but I was pretty much the class nerd back in high school.” He gave a light chuckle at that, one that was echoed by the other two since they were the same way back then. “In my senior year, I was more focused on inventing things than on relationships or dances..so, when it was time for prom, I decided I’d rather spend the time working on my new static generator. It was going to be my big breakthrough in electrical engineering that would help solve the world’s energy crisis! Just think about it- a generator that produces electricity using nothing more than simple kinetic motion and naturally occurring static electricity found in mammals and shag carpeting! It would have reduced the carbon footprint of a city like Saint Canard by at least 40%!” His face had lit up with an excited smile as he described his machine and what it would have been able to do, but he quickly reigned it back in with a slight flush to his cheeks and a clearing of his throat to get back on track. “A-Anyway…some bullies came to make fun of me for ‘hanging out with the wrong kind of electric hottie’ that night and overloaded my machine.” He held up one finger on his free hand and caused a spark of electricity to dance along the tip. “The accident gave me my powers, which was pretty cool, even if it did mess up my hair..and my eyes…and gave me some nasty scars…” He trailed off on that part, subconsciously touching one of his hands with the other. “It was scary..but..also really cool..I spent hours testing out my new powers and figuring out what I could do. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with them yet, but I knew I wanted to impress people.” His smile fell into a slight frown. “Then…I heard the screaming..” He shuddered, drawing his arms in closer to himself. “I went to the gym where they were holding prom…and I saw Negaduck attacking my classmates.”

“!!!!” Both ducks stared at him with equal levels of shock, experiencing the same revelation of just HOW LONG Megavolt had been fighting against Negaduck by himself.

“I didn’t really know what I was doing.” Megavolt continued, sparks flickering around his fingertips as he remembered that night so clearly, even after all these years. “I’d only just gotten my powers..but..I had to do SOMETHING, right? After all, I-I was the only one that could, so I fought him off while everyone else tried to escape.” He set his glasses down in his lap and started to remove his gloves. “But…he still won..” With the gloves removed, he held up his hands to give the other two a clear view of his injuries: A jagged gash that lined up perfectly across both palms, two-thirds of his right pinky finger missing, and a nasty split between his left pointer and middle finger that had long since scabbed over but was clearly never stitched back together properly. “I barely escaped in one piece and Negaduck still managed to send half of my senior class to the hospital with serious injuries, but at least I kept him from actually..well, you know..” Megavolt sighed heavily while putting his gloves back on. “I gave everything I could to beat him and I still came up short…and when I say everything, I mean EVERYTHING.” With his gloves back on, he reached up and gave his head a light tap. “Turns out using too much electricity messes with the electrical field around my brain, causing all sorts of memory problems. After the fight, I forgot where I lived and I even forgot who I was for a few months. I haven’t seen my family in over twenty years and I hardly remember what they even look like anymore..but..that’s probably for the best- if Negaduck found out who I was, he’d definitely go after them to get to me..and I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of me..” He looked at his hands, that earlier look of pain and guilt on his face returning once again. “But..it seems like no matter what I do, there are people who still get hurt because of Negaduck: Poor people who don’t have the money to pay off Negaduck’s goons. Sick people dying in the streets because of the pollution he forces into the air. Children that had to grow up never knowing the feeling of sunlight and fresh air. Guys like you who were just trying to live your lives and make the world a better place until HE came along and ruined everything for you…” The last comment was directed at the other two with a sad, apologetic half-smile before he looked back down at the safety glasses in his lap. “Sometimes I wonder if these powers should’ve gone to someone else. That, maybe if someone smarter, or stronger, or braver had them, then Negaduck would’ve been stopped years ago..before he had the chance to ruin so many people’s lives. But…it’s just me. I’m the one who has the power, so I’m the one that has to do something.” He finally put his glasses back on for the first time since he started his story, taking one last deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I know there’s not much I can do on my own, and I’m probably insane for not giving up yet..but, if I don’t do something, then I feel like no one else will. It HAS to be me. This town needs a hero to save it, and, even if I have to sacrifice everything I am, I’ll be the one to save it one day.”

A light slap to the back of the hero’s head made the ending of his monologue fall flat and he turned in confusion to look at his colorful companion. “Geez, listen to this guy, would ya, Bushy? Getting all over-dramatic and junk- honestly makes me wish I had some popcorn and a soda.” Quackerjack offered Megavolt a sympathetic smile and moved his hand down so it could rest on the rat’s shoulder. “Would you quit with the lone-hero routine already? In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the only superhero in this greenhouse!”

Megavolt had the decency to look embarrassed at that comment, rubbing the back of his head and glancing away. “O-Oh. Right. Sorry, that really isn’t fair to you two, huh?”

“Why are you bringing ME into this?” Bushroot asked with a frown that was trying to show irritation, but just came off as confused. “I’m no hero.”

“Yes, you are.” Megavolt returned his attention to the plant mutant with a confidant and kind smile. “You can fight it all you want, but, deep down, there’s a full-fledged hero waiting to bloom- all you have to do is let him out.” He stood up, smiling down at the still seated ex-botanist, and placed a hand on his shoulder (careful to avoid the thorns, of course). “We won’t force you into anything, but we just wanted you to know that we understand how hard it is trying to be a good person in this world, and, if you ever want to help make a difference in this town, or just want someone to talk to, you can come find us- we’ll have your back, no matter what.”

Quackerjack stood as well, giving Bushroot a grin of his own accompanied with a wink. “You can keep the gift no matter what you choose, by the way- it’s my way of saying thanks.” Quackerjack turned towards the door and walked out, petting Spot along the way. “We’ll show ourselves out- don’t wanna wear out our welcome, so we’ll be taking our LEAF now.” He chuckled at his own pun, grinning even when Megavolt shoved him out the door for it.

The pair of heroes waved a final farewell over their shoulders to Bushroot and did as Quackerjack said and took their leave (no, Megavolt wouldn’t let him get away with the pun twice, even if it did make him chuckle under his breath).

Bushroot sat there for a long time after they left, silently thinking over their parting words to him.

After a while, his curiosity finally got the better of him and he opened the box that Quackerjack gave him. Inside, he saw dark fabric that was mainly two colors- extremely dark brown and a slightly less dark green. He squeezed the green part with his thin “fingers”, feeling how thick the padding was for the green parts.

Staring intently at the fabric, Bushroot frowned and set the box down on the ground, stubbornly crossing his arms and looking away from it. “Couple of sentimental fools full of more sap than a maple tree…”

Still, despite his words, his eyes ended up being drawn back towards the fabric…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Quackerjack and Megavolt were locked in a fierce battle against an old foe they’d bested before: Morgana Macawber, the sorceress of St.Canard.

The dark and demented duck was a towering witch of a woman with long, curly dark hair streaked with red highlights. What would normally be an imposing figure thanks to her tall stature, beautiful face, and glowing magical aura, was slightly diminished by the fact that she was wearing a red sweet-lolita style dress with a long, puffy skirt accented with white lace along with a matching head piece, white stockings, and red shoes with more lace around the buckles. All-in-all, it was an…interesting set of contradictions that certainly showed in her personality when she spoke.

“I have you this time, foolish heroes!” Morgana giggled with twisted glee as she floated in the air in front of the roughed-up pair of heroes. “You two will be the PERFECT gifts for my beloved Lord Negaduck!”

Quackerjack picked up his bat from where it had been knocked out of his hands on the ground and used it to help hoist his battered body back up to its feet. “Yeeeaah, no thanks- I’d rather not become one of your creepy chocolate-covered valentine gifts…” He glanced at the various people around the town square that had been immobilized and frozen solid by different flavors and colors of chocolate.

“That goes double for me..” Megavolt pulled himself up as well with Quackerjack’s help. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s gay…”

“No he’s not!” Morgana stamped her foot in the air like a petulant child.

“Gotta go with Megs on this one.” Quackerjack chuckled at the sorceress’s immature temper tantrum, ignoring their impending doom in favor of teasing her a bit more. “Kinda hard to say he’s not after all the times he’s grabbed that big bodyguard of his and shoved his tongue down his-”

“SHUT UP!!” Morgana screamed and blasted the pair of already injured heroes with a burst of red magic. “My sweet Lord Negaduck loves me! He does! He just doesn’t know it yet!” She continued blasting them, hitting them again anytime they started to get close to the ground to keep them airborne. “We’re perfect for each other! You’ll see! EVERYONE WILL SEE! I’ll get rid of you two and then he’ll see that I’m the better partner- not that smelly brute Launchpad!” She hit them with one more powerful blast, leaving them prone and injured on the ground of what was once a thriving park but was now filled with nothing but dirt and dead trees. “Now..” She glared at them and her whole body glowed with a menacing red aura as she prepared to finish them off. “Say goodbye, heroes!!”

“Alright.” A voice that definitely didn’t belong to either of them spoke up. “Goodbye.”

Before Morgana had a chance to find out where the voice was coming from, she suddenly found herself being tied up by a patch of living daisies that sprung to life beneath her, seemingly out of nowhere. “What?! Let go of me! Grrr, stupid flowers!!” She struggled against the surprisingly strong flowers as they dragged her down towards the ground.

When Quackerjack and Megavolt had the strength to lift their heads again, they saw someone wearing a dark brown coat with puffy dark green sleeves standing in front of them- the image of a purple flower with a yellow center on the coat’s back matching that of its wearer’s head perfectly. The person wearing the coat had his back turned to them with his hands in the coat’s pockets, but they instantly knew who it was.

“Bushroot?!” They said at the same time with equally mixed feelings of surprise and relief.

Bushroot looked back at them over his shoulder, eyeing them up and down with a neutral expression. “Wow..you guys look like fertilizer right now.” He looked back to the struggling sorceress calmly. “Why don’t you two take a breather- I’ve got this one.” He took one hand out of his pockets and waved it back in their direction, causing a variety of fragrant plants such as lavender, peppermint, rosemary, and green tea leaves to sprout beneath the injured heroes and begin wrapping around them- secreting oils to help heal and soothe their wounds.

By the time he’d turned back to Morgana, the sorceress had managed to free herself from the debilitating daisies and was kneeling in the dirt. She got to her feet and looked at her dirtied dress with an angry expression. “Ooooh..you’ll pay for that, you overgrown weed!!”

Bushroot took both hands out of his pockets and did a slow clapping gesture that didn’t produce much sound. “Wooooow.” He said sarcastically. “You just won the award for the most UN-original insult I’ve ever heard. Seriously, like I haven’t been called a weed a million times already.” He walked towards her with no hesitation or fear visible anywhere in his voice or in his body language. “Besides, I technically AM a weed, so it’s not even that much of an insult, it’s just a fact. That’s like calling YOU a duck- it’s not really an insult..well, unless you’re trying to say it’s an insult to BE one, in which case, wow, that’s just racist and you DESERVE to go to jail just for saying that.”

“W..What..?” By the end of his comeback, Bushroot had reached a now very confused Morgana who just stared at him, unsure of what else to say.

“Here, let me give you the shorter version-” Bushroot stretched his torso so that he could look the sorceress in the eyes and smirk at her properly. “You’re an idiot.”

Capitalizing on the witch’s confusion, Bushroot had one of his legs detangle and grabbed her by the foot while she was distracted. He then latched onto the ground with his other foot and spun around in a circle, sending the startled sorceress flying when he let her go.

“!!!” Morgana’s eyes widened as she was sent careening through the air, trying to regain some control of her magic.

Not giving her a moment to catch herself, though, Bushroot brought his leafy digits to his mouth and whistled, making one of the nearby nearly-dead trees come to life and reel back one branch before slamming it right into Morgana’s head like a baseball bat. This rendered the Lolita-themed lady unconscious and sent her sprawling into the dirt below.

With the source of the curse unconscious, the people who had previously been frozen were suddenly granted their freedom and began to move around again. They were left sticky and stained from the quickly melting confection that had imprisoned them, but no worse for wear.

Speaking of no worse for wear, Quackerjack and Megavolt had watched the whole scene with their jaws dropped. Bushroot made beating one of the most magical ducks in the world look like child’s play!

Bushroot walked back over to the slightly less injured heroes and offered them each a hand up. “You guys just gonna sit there all day or actually pick your jaws and butts up off the ground?”

Quackerjack grinned and grabbed the offered appendage to pull himself up. “Considering you already saved these butts, guess we should do something with ‘em, huh?”

Megavolt pulled himself up next, giving Bushroot an equally big smile. “You really saved us, Bushroot- we owe you one!”

Bushroot let go of their hands and shoved his own digits back into his pockets. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I was just in the area and thought I’d lend a leaf.”

“You just happened to be in the area around the same time we were fighting a super villain?” Quackerjack asked with a cocked brow and a knowing grin.

“Yeah. That’s right.” Bushroot avoided eye contact with the grinning clown in a desperate ploy to appear aloof and uncaring, but, when he glanced back over, he saw that Megavolt was giving him the exact same grin. “What?” He glared at them, but they could easily tell how half-hearted it really was.

“Just glad to see you finally came around and decided to join us, Bushy.” Quackerjack teased while looping one arm around Bushroot’s shoulders,

“Welcome to the team!” Megavolt said while looping his own arm around Bushroot’s- the padding on the sleeve preventing the thorns from harming him at all.

Bushroot sputtered for a bit, looking between the grinning heroes with an expression of disbelief on his face. “Wh-Wha-?! I didn’t-! Who said-! I-!” He tried to shake and shove them off with an annoyed grunt. “I never said I was joining your stupid team! I told you before- I’m not a hero!”

“Scoreboard says otherwise, Bushy.” Quackerjack gave him that same infuriating grin that made Bushroot scowl at him.

“He’s right, you know.” Bushroot turned his head to the other side to look at Megavolt- the rat giving him a much kinder smile than his partner was. “You’re our hero, Bushroot..and we’d be happy to have you on our team.”

It was hard to tell with his pigmentation, but it looked like Bushroot’s cheeks turned a shade darker when he looked down to avoid seeing either of their faces. “Hmph..sappy idiots- both of you.” He tucked his hands back into his pockets, but didn’t try to shake off their grip on him like last time. “I’m not a hero, no matter what you two try to say.” He paused for a moment, only continuing when they looked ready to argue with him. “But..” He looked back up with the corners of his beak lifted in a half-smirk half-smile as he glanced between them. “You two would probably get yourselves killed without me, so I guess I’ll stick around to keep you out of trouble.”

Quackerjack and Megavolt stared at him for a minute, stunned into surprised silence from seeing a rare smile on the moody plant-duck’s face.

Then they grinned and cheered, celebrating their team’s newest member (even if he denied it), and jokingly started coming up with names for their little group- Bushroot giving Quackerjack an annoyed roll of his eyes but an undeniably fond smile whenever he tried coming back to the name “Thunderous Threesome” and saying it somehow sounded inappropriate.

Despite everything he said to the contrary, the reluctant smile on Bushroot’s face told his new friends exactly how happy he was to be there.

<-First Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: Warned you guys that one would be long. Heads up, the next one’s gonna be about as long as this one ^^”

By the way, for Morgana’s design in this, I decided that since her original version was based off of the Bride of Frankenstein with some influences from Dracula’s brides (and a little Morticia Adams), that the horror movie inspiration for her Negaverse-version would be Claudia and her Lolita style from Interview With a Vampire. I liked the idea of trying to appear sweet (here’s an image reference for the sort of outfit I saw Morgana wearing but with red shoes) while actually being an adult and her flipping back and forth between childish tantrums and psychotic obsessions. Also, it should be obvious, but I also based parts of her personality off of the classic yandere style characters from a few Japanese anime and games.

Oh, and Spot is essentially this universe’s version of Spike, and he’s based off of pitcher plants, another type of carnivorous plant like venus flytraps. In particular, I based the design off of Australian pitcher plants because I thought the vibrant purple color would coordinate with Bushroot’s purple petals nicely.

#negaverse #friendly four #megavolt #quackerjack #bushroot #morgana macawber #quackervolt #bushvolt #quackerroot #ot3 #nega-megavolt #nega-quackerjack #nega-bushroot #nega-morgana

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