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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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S4 Starts with the Demobats Attacking the School / Rejected Stobin Time Travel AU Bit

Eddie's hunched over the table, fingers held up in wicked claws. His hair hangs down as he tilts his head, voice pitched to the maniacal tone of the villain he's finally unleashed on his players.

This is it. The big reveal, the prelude to the boss fight. His players have worked hard to get here, and they stare raptly, caught up in the rising horror of betrayal and terror that Eddie's been weaving around them.

This whole campaign took months to reach this point. His glee cannot be contained and so he channels it into his villain instead; cackling madly before throwing himself upwards, one hand covering his face but with his fingers splayed to showcase one wide eye.

"Now you see your fatal flaw!" Eddie crows. "Pick up your weapons and--"

He slams one hand down on the table.

"--fight --"

He slams his other hand down.

"--for--"

A third bang, far louder than Eddie's own echoes through the room.

Hellfire as a whole jumps --Dustin screaming and Jeff shouting--as Steve fucking Harrington bursts through the drama room's door.

"Why the hell don't you have your walkies!?" He thunders as he flies in, face furious.

Fury bolts through Eddie like lightning, so fast it leaves him temporarily light headed.

"Steve!" Dustin yelps at the same time Mike pissily shouts his name. Both leap to their feet, as Harrington, chest heaving, slams the door behind himself.

"We have a code red!" Harrington spits, eyes focused on the younger Hellfire members. He fumbles with the door for a moment, long enough for Eddie to realize he’s trying to lock it, before the ex-jock strides into the room.

It's not until Steve gets closer that Eddie registers the bat with nails in it. There's a dark, tacky liquid leaking down the sides, little bits of something rancid clinging to some of the nails.

A metallic scent that screams 'wrong wrong wrong!' and oh God.

It's blood.

Real blood, not the fake stuff Eddie once bought for his Dracula costume.

"The Party--" Dustin hisses, head flying comically between Steve and the rest of the table (but most noticeably, down at Eddie’s end, where the older Hellfire members reside.)

"I suggest you read them in or whatever Nance calls it, Henderson, because they're involved now." Harrington says, deadly serious.

Sinclair’s face scrunches up in confusion. "What do you--"

Something screeches outside. The noise raises every hair on Eddie's neck, and temporarily stuns the room into silence.

An echoing scream answers, just as inhuman as the first.

Harrington winces. "Give em the cliffnotes version man, there's a bunch of bats outside."

"Bat bats or--demobats?"

"What do you think, Mike?"

"Fuck." Sinclair hisses under his breath.

"Anyone besides me have any weapons?" Harrington asks and he sounds like he's not hopeful for a yes but is asking anyway.

"Yes Steve, we all brought guns to school. Mines in my locker!" Mike snips, and Harrington levels him with that annoyed look mothers everywhere somehow seem to know.

"I've got my slingshot." Lucas chimes in, patting his backpack. "I uh, I don't go anywhere without it anymore."

Harrington nods, once. His faze ticks up, sweeping across the room to the older members.

"Alright. Anyone else?"

"A knife." Jeff admits after a long pause, his own eyes trained on Harrington's nail bat.

Grant shakes his head, and Gareth, usually the loudest of them, is silent.

A static crackle makes everyone jump, before a tinny voice comes through. "Steve, are you there? This is Nancy."

"Hey Nance. We have an Upside Down situation at the school."

A pause then; "it's not just the school."

"Shit." Dustin hisses. Then adds; "Scale of one to ten, how many bats would you say are outside?”

“Too many.” Harrington answers, running his free hand through his hair. It’s a soothing motion, Eddie has watched Steve enough to know that, but this time something’s different.

Less “shit I flunked my chemistry final” and more frantic, “we’re losing the baseball game and also Hargrove’s being weirdly aggressive again.”

Not that Eddie witnessed such events, just that he had….heard about them.

Sure.

He’ll go with that.

xXx

Wheeler Jr yelps, sliding as a demobat swoops down and beats at him with its wings. Teeth snap close to his head, missing his ear by inches.

He twirls, arms waving madly, until Harrington grabs him, keeping Mike's head down with one hand and jamming his nailbat toward the creature with the other.

The two of them manage to make it into Eddie's van, half falling half jumping, Gareth and Grant slamming the door behind them as demobats dive at them.

"Gun it!" Gareth calls and Eddie does so, the lurch sending Henderson and Jeff tumbling to the floor.

Eddie watches in the mirror as Mike, the most antagonist of the freshman when it comes to Harrington, clings to the ex-jocks shirt for a moment.

Steve's hand has left the back of his shirt, though now Eddie can see his grip has changed to more of a tender hold on the kid. Something familiar and comforting.

"I got you." Steve says quietly and it's only because Eddie's got his attention split between him and the road that he catches it, and the way Mike presses his forehead against Steve's shoulder for a moment before finally sitting up.

Which just confirms what Eddie already knew--for all his bluster and guff, Mike was one of Harrington's too.

xxx

--This is where It turned into the “failed time stobin time travel AU- but I like this part and you need the above for it to make sense so TWO IN ONE--

xxx

Speed running the beginning is starting to become the easiest part, if only because Steve finally knows exactly what to say.

"They're not a part of the party." He mimics Dustin's voice before pointing a finger at him. "We have exactly sixteen minutes before the damn demobats attack you can fill them in in Eddie's van."

The very same Eddie who looks positively aghast. "You actually believe this?"

"Oh absolutely." Dustin says, scooping his nerd crap into his backpack. "Trust me, Steve's not creative enough to come up with something like this on his own."

"Hey." Steve says in warning.

"Also he only gets bitchy like this when something’s gone really wrong." Dustin ads with a look that might have been apologetic--if one squinted and looked at his face sideways.

Lucas, Steve's new favorite, slides slowly next to him. "You sure you're okay?" He asks quietly and Steve pats him on the shoulder for being the only one to care.

“Not at all.” He answers because fuck, he really, really, isn’t. “In the meantime, I need you all to listen very carefully.”

Mike already has his mouth open, patented bitchy look on his face and nope, no, Steve is not letting him derail this conversation.

He let that happen by accident once and Steve’s learned his lesson since.

Pointing at Mike, Steve starts firing instructions. “Do not, under any circumstance, try to fight the bats. They can and have lifted you right off your feet and I will not be jumping for you again.”

Steve’s finger ticked right, to Lucas. “Luc, I know you have your slingshot and a handful of shit to fling in it. You need to sprint to Eddie’s van, then get set up to start shooting so the rest of us have cover. Got it?”

Lucas, Steve was pleased to see, had already dropped into ‘shit’s fucked’ mode. He nods, his own nerdy gear long packed away. He digs through his backpack now, looking no doubt for the slingshot.

Steve was baking him a damn cake when all this was over.

“Gareth.” He continues, pointing at the next guy down the line, watching as he jumps out of his skin (and then looks mad about it, as if it was Steve’s fault he’d flinched.) “You’re weirdly good at counting the bats, so I’m gonna ask you to keep doing that man. As well as keep an eye out for anything ground level, we got surprised by a demodog last time.”

“Shit, really?” Mike groans, throwing his hands over his eyes in frustration.

He was ignored.

Steve skips over Eddie entirely, knowing all too well how much of a trap addressing him could be. “Grant, you’re best on the radio. Once we are securely in the van I need you to call for Nancy and give her an update on what’s happening.

Grant at least, comes onboard immediately, nodding his head and standing.

He got an absolute look of betrayal from Eddie and Gareth for it, but hey that was yet another thing to be addressed later.

Here, Steve slings his own backpack down and off his shoulders, taking the first thing he has in it, out. “Jeff,” He calls, before holding up the box he’d pulled out. “This is a medkit. You know how to use it, so you get it.”

Steve doesn’t toss the box to him this time, instead putting the kit on the table and sliding it over.

Hesitantly, Jeff takes it, eyes darting between Steve and Eddie.

“And Dustin--” Steve says with an air of finality, yanking the second item he’s been looking for out of his backpack, “take off that damn Weird Al abomination and put this jacket on. For some reason the bats keep locking onto it.”

“They want my shirt?” Dustin asks, but does as told, seeming far too delighted at having been given Steve’s old swim team jacket.

“Uh.” Eddie starts, rising to a hunch over the table, head partially tilted.

Steve was pretty sure he did that because he thought it was intimidating (or at least, perhaps was a bad habit because he did it way more often then he didn’t, but that was a thought for Not In The Beginning of The Mess Steve.)

“We have five minutes left before they attack.” Steve says, right over the second (and far more aggressive) “Uh.”

“The van isn’t locked, which is just so safe considering all the drugs in it, Munson.” He can’t help himself, throws the pissiest, most disapproving look he has in his arsenal at a now gaping Eddie.

“No matter who gets to it first, one but Eddie or myself drive it, understand?”

“Oh so now you’re fine with Eddie’s driving!?” Dustin doesn’t stomp his feet but Steve has known him for a while now.

The foot stomping behavior wasn’t one he grew out of until just last year.

“Considering what we’re about to face yes, absolutely I am.” Steve counters rapidly. “Eddie drives like a demon and that’s exactly what we need right now.”

And oh. He’s going to have to say things like this more, because the shocked look that overtook Munson’s face is delightful.

“I’m taking the rear, because I have the bat.” He holds his weapon, watches as the older members of Hellfire finally seem to register what it is. “Everyone got the plan down?”

“Harrington.” Eddie finally starts, voice positively frigid in fury, and Steve is prepared to mouth what is no doubt the line Eddie’s about to say (much like Dustin, he too rarely deviates lines in the beginning) “What kind of game do you--”

Right on cue, something inhuman screams outside.

The bats are here.

“Bicker later, Munson.” Steve says, locking eyes with Eddie. “Goal for now is to survive.”

xXx

The run to Eddie’s van consistently remains to be one of the worst parts of the entire day (minus the other various parts where someone inevitably bites it, thus resetting the entire damn time loop.)

The initial plan had gone smoothly. Lucas reaches the van first, then uses it as a shield while he provides cover with his slingshot.

The little group of Jeff-Dustin-Grant and Eddie all manage to reach it at about the same time, with Steve able to pull the bats off them with a couple of well timed whacks of the nailbat.

This is where everything goes to shit.

Once again, Mike tries to take the spot of “first to die” by swinging his fist at a low flying bat. The tail of the thing immediately catches his wrist, using the momentum of the movement to swing its teeth towards the freshmen’s face.

Steve reverses direction, and knows immediately he won’t be there in time to prevent an injury.

Curses hard, and winds up to swing, right as Gareth snarls out; “Hell no!”

He’s closer to Mike, and despite already having one bat swooping madly at his head, manages to grab the one attacking Wheeler right as Mike trips over his own feet and falls backwards.

A stream of yells and ‘fuck you!’’s follow as Steve bends to yank Mike up, then carries on as wings beat frantically around Gareth’s head.

The other bat dives, latching onto his hip right as Steve manages to grab the one Gareth’s holding. Takes it from him as Gareth screams, trying desperately to rip the demobat that’s gotten its teeth into him, off.

Practice makes perfect, and perfect in this case, is slamming the fucking demobat onto the concrete hard enough to stun it before slamming it to bits with two hard strikes of the nailbat.

Steve isn’t sure how long it takes him to do it, but between Gareth’s screaming and the shrieks of more incoming bats, he knows he doesn’t have much time.

He’s not losing someone. Not here, right at the start.

Not when he already knows how to play out this part.

Gareth manages to rip the creature off himself, and Steve takes it from there, snatching it out of the younger man’s hands and repeating the fling-and-smash move he killed its brethren with.

Does it fast enough that he’s back at Gareth’s side before the guy starts to collapse downward, tears streaming down his face.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay.” Steve tells him, pulling him close and forcing Gareth to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Put hard pressure on it man, hard, then we’re gonna run for it.”

“Can’t--fuck---” Gareth pants between hard breaths. Blood’s soaked soaking into his jeans, and a glance at it shows it’s a bad bite.

“You can.” Steve tells him, already pulling them both forward.

It doesn’t go well.

Gareth almost goes down twice, leg buckling, and Steve grits his teeth. Knows neither of them are going to make it at this rate.

“Gary!” Someone screams. He can’t quite tell if it’s Jeff or Eddie, but either way, Mike and Dustin have leapt out of the car, flinging rocks and whatever else they can find into the air.

“Careful!” Steve yells as one nearly belts him, but at least it causes enough of a distraction that he manages to toss the bat ahead of himself, wincing at the sound it makes as it hits the ground.

It’s close to Dustin though, who thankfully, takes his cue and snatches it up.

“Stay!”

It’s a command, and Steve says it like a command. The last thing he needs is for Henderson to go charging into a hoard of demobats, especially not after Steve’s witnessed Eddie dying to them on at least five separate time loops.

If not here, then later.

He can’t think about that now though, not when Gareth’s hissing in pain, fingers clutching onto his shirt like a lifeline.

(He is, he realizes, Gareth’s lifeline. The younger man won’t make it unless Steve gets them to the van.

The bats would take him as their sacrifice and if there is one thing Steve was sworn to stop, it’s people sacrificing themselves--or others.)

“Take a breath.” Steve instructs, before bodily swinging Gareth in front of him.

Ignores the yelped cry he makes, and stoops down to get a good hold around his knees.

Grunts as Gareth, having figured out what’s happening, circles his other hand around Steve’s neck as he lifts the smaller man up into a bridal carry.

Ignores the choked sobs that escape Gareth as he does it. The fucking bat bites hurt and what they’re doing right now is no doubt jostling the shit out of the wound.

He’d be crying too if it were him, not that anyone can pick him up like this.

(Deliberately forgets to recall the two times he’s died precisely because of that.

The knowledge that if he’s injured, the amount of people who can drag him to safety solo is numbering close to zero isn’t a helpful one right now.

Neither is any other thought beyond pure focus on getting Gareth into the van.)

From there it’s a matter of running and not falling on his fucking face--or on the guy currently bleeding on him.

They make it though, a fact Steve is very grateful for.

Hands reach out, all of them pulling Gareth in while Steve hustles the rest, not slowing down until he slams the van door shut and yells for Eddie to gun it.

“Jeff, medkit!” he says, but Jeff, bless him, is already on it.

Grant’s speaking into the walkie he’d been given, Nancy’s tinny voice a soothing balm on Steve’s nerves as he, Dustin and Jeff get Gareth laid out in the van best they can.

“Where am I going, Harrington?” Eddie calls from the front, having floored the van the second the doors had slammed shut.

“He’ll be okay.” Steve soothed quietly, one hand going to squeeze Mike’s shoulder, the other looping around Lucas.

If there’s one thing he swears he will be, through every loop, it’s supportive of the damn kids.

They deserve to know someone is in their corner, even if they don’t always believe him.

#this was originally part of the stobin time travel au #but I couldn't make it work #also I think I posted the bottom half before about mike #steve harrington #eddie munson #hellfire #mike as one of steves kids #s4 au #0o0 fanfics

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corriganatheart · 1 year

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Deepest Secret 🔞 Pt. II / Jude Bellingham x reader x Trent A. Arnold

Synopsis: Jude is your boyfriend's best friend and your biggest nemesis, but sometimes he shows his hate in ways that have you questioning his intentions.

Pairings: Jude Bellingham x fem! Reader x Trent A. Arnold

Genre: Enemies to lover, and Forbidden romance

Warning ⚠️: Cursing, mention of sexual contents 🔞

Baby❤️: Wanna grab dinner with me after practice?

Y/N: R we going to be alone?

Baby❤️: yes? Who else is going to be there?🤨

Y/N: IDK ur friends has been on my case about disappearing😅

Baby❤️: It’s only been four weeks…they’re being dramatic🙄

Y/N: yes ig it’s about time I get out of my woman cave.

Baby❤️: 😘 pick u up at 7:30!

You wore a sparkling champagne mini dress and tied your hair in a ponytail. Today, you wanted to focus on your boyfriend and show him how much you love him. The last few weeks, you focused mainly on yourself, leaving Trent in the dark, but he was patient enough to wait for you. You’ve not seen Jude since the club, but you’ve seen news of him with different women and his excellent performances. He was going big, and his career skyrocketed, which is more reason to avoid him. If someone were to discover the tension between the two of you, you wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences. Trent would question your intention, and the media will display you as the villain for breaking up their friendship.

“That dress looks so fucking sexy, baby,” Trent says as soon as he enters your room. You smile and playfully flip your hair as he leans against the door and admires you from afar. Trent has a key to your place, so he was allowed to go in and out, and he often comes with surprises. Like right now, he brought a bouquet of red roses and a black bag with the Chanel Logo on it. “Are you worried that this dress is too much?” You asked while pointing at your cleavage and your exposed legs. Trent casually shrugs, “wear whatever you want; I can fight.” You giggled at his perfect response before spraying perfume on yourself and walking towards your bed. “And you ask why people think you’re my sugar daddy,” you sarcastically said while grabbing the necklace box inside of the Chanel bag. You open the box to reveal a Chanel necklace; this is the newest one and the fifth one Trent bought you this year. “Spoiling you rotten turns me on,” Trent says and grabs the necklace out of the box to put it around your neck. “Weird kink,” you mumbled. He chuckled , and you feel his hot breath on your neck. “Only for you, though,” he whispers before gently kissing your neck.

“A getaway?” You asked. Trent nods as he rubs your thighs. “It’s a team bonding vacation, and we can bring our girls.” You hum because you don’t know what to say. If the whole team is there, Jude will be there, and you aren’t ready to face him yet. The last time you spoke, he hurt you badly, slut shaming you, etc. You’re sure he said all those nasty stuff without meaning, but it still hurts. Jude Bellingham hates you, and you hate him, and it will remain that way. “Marcus’s fiancé wants you there, and the others have been asking about you nonstop.” Trent squeezes your thighs, “and I want you there.” You sigh and place a hand on his, “I will think about it.”

When you arrive at the restaurant, you are surprised that your boyfriend booked the entire place. He even decorated it as you liked it, flowery and elegant. “Trent…this is just a normal date, right?” You grin while looking around. Trent places a hand on your hips and guides you to the table. “You know my girl deserves the best,” he mumbles and kisses your cheeks. You giggle and sit down on the chair that he has pulled out. “If anything, I think you’re trying to make me fall for you even more,” you said. Trent smirks and reaches for your hand. "When are you going to give me an answer, baby?" he asked, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. Your smile fades away, realizing he is asking you about moving in with him. You have tried to avoid that topic because you felt like you weren't ready yet, and after the encounters with Jude, your mind has been filling with sinful thoughts. "Trent, it has been two years since we dated," you mumbled. He chuckles and shakes his head, "babe, some people start moving in together only like a couple of months after meeting." He was right about that, so you couldn't argue. "You know I get messy sometimes," you muttered. "And I have a maid for that," he shrugs. You bite your lips, holding back the smile because this topic is serious, and Trent is not backing down. "I stay up late to work," you said. "And I can sleep in peace knowing you are typing next to me," he grins. You tilt your head back and laugh; gosh, he has to have the last word. "Sometimes I snore," you lied. Trent chuckles and brushes his thumb on your lips, "And I cherish those sounds, knowing that you're still here with me."

After dinner, Trent drove the both of you back to his place, or as he would call it, our place. You both drank a couple of drinks, you more than him because he had to drive. He talked about the projects he wanted to do for the place, so you felt more welcome. You were already welcomed, but Trent wanted you to decorate the place how you wanted, and he was willing to hire the best interior designer to help you. It was cute, husband material of him to think this through before asking you. But you were very hesitant, almost scared to want to move in with him because you knew Jude was always welcomed, and that was something your body and mind didn't need.

Ever since you felt the taste of Jude's lips, you have been dreaming nonstop about him and wanted those lips in other places. He had you worked up, and every night while lying in bed, you could only think of him. Even when kissing Trent, sometimes, your mind shifts to Jude. "That dress of yours is going to be the death of me," Trent whispers behind you while nibbling on your ears. You moan as you feel his hand trailing up your thighs. Trent knew your body, and he knew how to get a reaction out of you. This man was your match, and you shouldn't want anyone else; he was the perfect man for you. "I need you, naked baby," he mumbles and wasted no time zipping the strap. You felt your back exposed, and the dress silently fell onto the cold marble floor. Trent bites his lips as he stares at you in nothing but your bra and your thong. He grins as he twirls you around, whistling to himself. "Any man would be lucky to have you. Too bad you are already mine," he says before lifting your chin and bringing his lips onto yours. You moan from the way his mouth tastes. Rich alcohol with many fruity flavors, "I want to fuck you." You paused and clenched your brows. "Wait," you said and slightly pushed Trent's chest. He looks down at you with lust and frustration. "What did you just say?" you asked nervously. Trent frowns, confusion written all over his face. "I didn't say anything, baby," he says. You close your, realizing you just imagined Jude's voice and words. It also disgusted you that it turned you on, and you could feel yourself getting wet. "I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I'm just tired." Trent smiled, but there was definitely annoyance on his face. It has been a while since you guys had sex, and you kept denying him, leaving him to think he wasn't enough. "It's okay, babe. Come on, I'll start a warm bath for you."

1 Month Later

Jude stares at your timid form from afar. He didn't think you would come, but you did. Today all of you were going to Bora Bora to have a team bonding trip, but really, it was a free vacation for the team and their significant others. Everyone brought their girlfriend, wives, and a date. Jude did the same. He brought one of the hottest models out there, and he does plan on getting in bed with her, especially since you'll be there. It has been a while since he last saw you or spoke to you, but it has been every day since you were haunting him in his bed, showers, mind, and dream. You were a drug that he couldn't get rid of, and he hasn't even tasted you.

"I'm hearing wedding bells coming soon. Y/N finally moved in with Trent, and the next thing you know, they'll have a mini Alexander Arnold running around," Marcus says with a smile. Jude glares at the back of Marcus's neck, and Harry notices it and rolls his eyes. "Don't tell me you still think she has evil intentions." The model next to him and the others surrounding him all turned to him. "I think she's annoying as fuck," he said with disgust. Most of his teammates groaned and said some curse words under their breath while the model just laid her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry, babe," she mumbles, "I will make sure you have the best time there." Jude just sits there, eyes bored, as he continues to stare at you. You haven't looked at him once since you step foot into the private plane, and he finds that very agitating.

“Hey, we get to stay across from one another!” Jude chirped loud enough for you to hear. You glance over at him and Trent, noticing how they are excited to be experiencing this trip with one another. You then look over at the girl that came along; she is extremely beautiful and has the best body. Insecurity dwelled upon you after noticing how she also looked at Trent, full of lust and excitement. “That girl got to go,” Lucia, Marcus’s fiancé, said disgustingly. “I saw her also making sexual gestures towards Marcus, and he also feels uncomfortable.” You shake your head and turn away from the view, “it’s Jude’s date; let him handle it.” Lucia follows you into your designated room; she is determined to bring that girl down. “I mean, come on, Jude only brought her here for one thing, and now she wants to get with all of our men.” You chuckle and start unpacking your bags. “Our men have a voice; they can turn her down. She’s Jude’s date; we can’t just tell her to leave,” you shrugged. Lucia groans and stomps out of the room.

The afternoon was filled with you hanging your outfits in the closet and Trent spending time with his best friend. He had asked you several times to come and relax with him and Jude, but you had kindly declined and made the excuse that you didn’t want to get into an argument. “I see you’re still avoiding Jude,” Harry says after he catches you sneaking to the juice bar. “I’m not avoiding anyone,” you said. Harry smirks and orders his drink. “How’s the move-in with Trent?” He asked. You grab your drink and sit on the stool. “I have spent so much time there, so it’s nothing new. We plan on fixing up the place a little, though,” you said. Harry nods and proceeds to update you on his life. As he talked, your eyes drifted to where Jude, Trent, and Jude’s date was. Jude and Trent are sitting on the edge, legs dangling in the water, whereas the model is in the water showing off her body. You clench the drink, upset that the girl does not respect your relationship. But you appreciate that Trent was showing her no interest.

“Wonder how long that’s going to last,” Saka walks up to you while staring at the model. “I say tomorrow he sends her home,” Harry shrugged. You shake your head, lips twitching because that excited you. “Shit!” A loud splash causes all three of you to turn in their direction. Trent was now in the water, and the model was giggling. “What was that for?” Trent asked annoyance in his voice. “Play with me!” The girl chirped and started splashing water into his face. You frowned and immediately tossed your cup in the trash can before stomping towards them.

“Trent!” You called, causing everyone to turn to you. You bent down and held your hand for him, and you felt Jude intensely staring at you. “Thanks, baby girl,” Trent said and reached for your hands. You help your man get back on the wooden steps and glare at the girl. She continues to act blind to your relationship, and it was getting on your nerve. Why wasn’t Jude doing anything? She came as his date, and he deliberately let her flirt with his best friend. “Come on, I’ll help you,” you offered, but Trent shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go take a quick shower and come out in 15,” he says and places a kiss on your temple before walking to your room. Saka and Harry excused themselves, and the girl followed after them with her wet bikini.

You stood there frozen, realizing you should’ve run after the others because now it was only you and Jude. Who’s idea was it to leave you two alone? Everyone knew how much you despise one another. You gulped when you realized he was staring at you, and you were nearly half naked, in a bikini with a sheer wrap knot cover-up skirt. “Nice weather, aye?” Jude asked while sipping on his drink. You looked down at him and immediately gushed at the sight of his muscles and abs. It has been a while since you saw Jude, and gosh, he was more handsome than ever. “It’s bora bora; I hope so,” you shrugged and decided it wouldn’t hurt to sit next to him; besides, you guys were out in the open. What could go wrong?

You swing your legs in the water as Jude stares at your thighs, then your chest, and then your bottom. His body tense before he rapidly sips his drink. You also took the opportunity to check him out, and you felt yourself getting warmer. This was the exact reason why you’ve been avoiding him. He was everything your body wanted but couldn’t have. Jude cleared his throat, catching you off guard, “Y/N, about last time I-“ you immediately stopped him by holding up a finger. You don’t like to discuss anything from the past, especially now that you’ve taken the next step with Trent. “I have moved on from it. Nothing to discuss anymore,” you said. The disappointment on Jude’s face was evident to the point where he got up and left you alone. You sighed, realizing you must’ve hurt his feelings, but it was the right thing to do. You are with Trent, and there’s no one else more perfect than him.

Jude sips on his cocktail as his date grinds on his dick. He was hard, not because of her ass, but because of how you swayed your hips. You were a real piece of a woman in that tight little dress of yours and the way you knew how to work that body. Jude told himself before dinner that he would keep it together and only focus on his hot date, but after you entered the beach, he knew was fucked. “Come on, babe, let’s go dance,” the girl says as she continues to roll her hips on him. Jude doesn’t respond; he continues watching you from afar while sipping on his beer. “I brought all sorts of toys for us to use,” his date says, “gosh, I have been waiting for this.” The image of him using all sorts of sex toys on a girl should be enough to leave, but he wasn’t affected by this girl. She was perfect with a hot body and a nice face, but still, the sight of you dancing affected him more than fucking his date. Jude lays his head back on the chair and groans when you start grinding on one of the other girls. He was so fucking hard for you, and if he didn’t get a taste of you, he probably would die from a hard-on. “Want me to fix that for you, baby?” His date asked while leaning back to touch his dick. Jude glances at you and notices you staring at where his date is feeling, and he doesn’t miss the glare you send her way. Satisfied with the reaction, Jude smirks, realizing the temptation was also there for you.

You shouldn’t have drunk this much, but it was a vacation, and your emotions were everywhere. Jude was a bastard for taunting you with his date. Ever since you showed up in that sexy dress on purpose, you didn’t miss how his eyes hungrily followed you. And you can’t deny it, but you liked it. Jude was a temptation, one of the greatest ones. And it was even worse than your boyfriend is here, getting drunk with his friends while you are eyeing his best friend. “Bitch I’m leaving; I want some dick,” Lucia whispers in your ear before running off with Marcus. You chuckle and continue to drink your margarita while glaring at the way Jude’s date is grinding on his dick. You then look over at Trent, who is just chatting it up with some of the guys, and for some reason, you want to dance with Jude more than Trent. It was a sinful thought, and you hated yourself for letting that get in the way of your happiness. Frowning, you walk off to find some peace from everyone.

“Like I said, you shouldn’t be swimming while you are drunk,” he says as he sits on the edge, his legs dangling into the water. You turn to look at Jude, he doesn’t look as drunk, but he has a bottle of tequila in his hand and is chugging it as he drowns in the way you look in the clear water. You were gorgeous in that sexy dress, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to control himself any longer. “You would like that wouldn’t you?” You asked and slowly lifted your dress while staring into his eyes. Jude chugs the wine as he watches the white bikini underneath your dress coming into view. You don’t break eye contact as you toss the clothing next to him. “Look at you,” he sighs while staring from head to toe. You smirked, “you can look but can’t touch.” Jude chuckles, and he lifts his beach shirt before jumping into the water.

You scoot away from him and take in his body, he looks more muscular than the last time, and there are some visible scars from training. “You can touch me everywhere,” he mumbles. Your body was heating up and reacting in sinful ways. You could get caught any minute and ruin your life, and you can’t guarantee that Jude will have your back. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t like that,” you muttered, but your hand was flinching from wanting to touch him. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’ll be gone in the next minute if you want.” You smiled at that, but it quickly faded because it wasn’t fair for anyone. You’re the one in the relationship, and you should be loyal, but the temptation and tension were too much to bear. “My boyfriend. He’s your best friend, and he’ll get hurt.”

Jude hears the hesitation in your voice, but he knows you want it as much as he does. So he scoots closer to you, only a couple of inches between you. “He doesn’t need to know. It’ll be our little secret,” Jude whispers. You gulped and timidly reached out to touch his chest. He lets out a relieved sigh and closes his eyes from the touch; gosh, you were so soft. “Did you miss me?” He asked while leaning down. “Did you think about me?” He asked again as he reached down and cupped your pussy. “Because every time I fucked, I cum thinking of you.” And that was it, you were a goner.

Jude lifts you as he kicks the door close and locks it. Everyone was now half passed out and drunk and was already asleep. The resort was empty and quiet; no one around to even know what the two of you were up to. Trent was passed out in your room, whereas Jude’s date went off with another guy. It was a win-win situation because this gave you time to relieve the sexual tension between the two of you. “Slow down,” you mumbled as Jude lifted you against the door and kissed you roughly. “Fuck no!” He growls. “I have wanted to fuck the moment I laid eyes on you. There is no way I’m holding back.” You have no words to say, so you just let him devour your mouth as his hands roam every part of your body like he would die if he didn’t. “I need to take you now,” he whispers and gently lays you down on the bed. You hurry towards the headboard and watch as he slowly removes his pant and boxer. Your mouth gasps at the view in front of you.

Jude was perfect in every way, and it has come to you that even Trent couldn’t get your heart rate beating this fast. You feel yourself drowning as he climbs onto the bed and unhooks your top, and rip off your bottoms. When the both of you are naked, you admire one another’s bodies, memorizing the image like it would be the last. “Gosh, you have no idea how long I have been dreaming of this,” he said almost painfully. Jude pulls out the nightstand drawer and reaches for a condom. There was only one in the drawer. You glared at it, and he chuckled, “the only person I was going to fuck was you,” he said. He then rips the condom with his mouth, and you watch him roll the rubber on. Jude smiles down at you and takes your mouth into his. The kiss wasn’t sexual; it was passionate, like he wanted to prove something. “Keep me as a secret all you want, as long as I get to have you,” he says. And the whole night, Jude proves to you how much he meant it.

You groan and feel an arm pull you into a hug. Your body ached severely, and only you and another person knew why. You open your eyes to see Trent staring at you; with the cutest smile. “Morning, baby,” he says. You smile, “morning, babe.” Trent then pulls the blanket off and grins at the sight of the hickeys on your neck and chest. You foolishly allowed him to think it was from him and smile back. “Thank god for this vacation.”

As promised, Jude sent his date back home, and for the next couple of days, you pretended nothing happened, acting like you hated one another. But at night, when everyone was dead asleep, you would sneak into Jude’s room and do all sorts of sinful stuff. The both of you would remind one another that this would be the last, but it was a cycle that never ended. Jude was lusting after you, and you were too. It was in his nature to be competitive, but he was ok with being your deepest secret, and even though you hated yourself afterward, you were ok with letting him stay while he was inside of you. It was a secret that could never be revealed, and will live inside of you forever.

You shifted uncomfortably and glared at sleepy Jude next to you. You then turn to your boyfriend, who has his head on the window, also sleeping. The seating arrangement became slightly awkward because two other people decided also to take your designated plane back. Trent volunteered for Jude to sit next to him, but neither you nor Jude liked the window seat, so the arrangement ended up with you sitting between the best friends. From everyone’s perspective, you two hated the arrangement, and that’s why Jude had his headphones on and was asleep, but as your hands, intertwined with his underneath the blanket, you could only imagine how uncomfortable and shocked everyone would be if they discovered that you two likes one another. Both you and Jude were a fool for acting like this, but no one should know, and no one will know as long as neither of you falls in love. It will be a selfish secret that will go on until one of you step away. And you’re sure Jude will once the phase is over; he’ll get bored of you and move on and won’t even remember this ever happened.

“I love you, baby,” Trent says and kisses your forehead. You chuckled and laid your head on his shoulders. You smiled and reassured yourself that everything would be ok. “I love you too,” you mumbled and, for a second, felt a shiver run down your spine. You open your eyes and tilt to look at Jude, but he is still asleep while his hands are intertwined with yours underneath his blanket. Feeling wary, you close your eyes again and try to relax, but even while sleeping, you can still feel Jude’s eyes watching you, like he has another plan for you. Like you have fallen into his trap.

Part III

@suzysface @miri-97 @laracovr @lunamelona @justcqllmedaddy @thepastaqween @letmehoeyou @jelldaysstuff @junalovestrent @alwaysclassyeagle

#soccer #footballer imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #england nt imagine #bellingham #bvb dortmund #borussia bvb #trent alexander arnold #trent x reader #trent imagine #alexander arnold

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slowlydifferentbluebird · 1 year

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Ok i have quite the obsession over miss Kim Chaewon! So imagine reader is a famous actress (you can decide if she a Hollywood star or a k drama star or whatever you want). Back to what I was saying, so reader is a famous actress and she's doing some interviews and some stuffs like that to promote her new movie. And on one of these interviews, she met le sserafim cuz they are promoting unforgiven (imma villain) and Chaewon can't take her eyes off reader, she can't help but feel her pussy going wild and have the dirtiest thoughts about reader

I don't mind writing another Chaewon fic at all, especially when you give such interesting plots.

Chaewon X Fem!Reader

The easiest ways to become famous in Korea are two: being an Idol or being a drama star. And these are exactly the two paths our main characters chose: Chaewon and...you.

Even not having ever met you, Chaewon was a big fan of your works, how you can switch from being the most beautiful princess to a great spy, then again to a goofy girl in love. And if you add to your skills the fact you're gorgeous...well, the result is her having a big crush on you.

She was actually talking with Sakura, when her manager announced to them that you would have interviewed one of them for your personal YouTube Channel, something that you do out of passion to know new people. Obviously Chaewon was the chosen one, even because she menaced the other members of putting them in a box and sending them in the space otherwise.

The big day finally came and when she arrived at your house, the interview location, she was basically freaking out...and then she saw you: in her eyes you were stunning. Actually you were so beautiful, that her shyness reached a new level. Add to this the fact that there were no staff crew, because you simply put a couple of camera here and there and that was all settings needed.

Luckily you are very good with shy person and you know that the best way to making them at ease is making them drink. So, one shot, two shot, three shot and extrovert Chae was there. And she was more flirty than ever. If when she saw you, she felt something in her chest, after talking with you, she felt something leaking from her pussy.

You didn't miss the signals: her biting the lips, her looks full of lust...you knew it was a matter of time. And if fact when you moved to the kitchen to get something to eat, she practically ran after you and put her lips on yours. The making out sessions lasted quite some time, and now her pussy was on fire, it was basically clenching on the air. She needed your touch so badly.

"Ah, please, help me", she said, more thirsty than ever. And obviously you didn't refuse. You made her set on the table of the kitchen and took her skirt off, revealing her wet pussy. You teased her with a finger, but that was enough to making her moan. Adding another one, you finally started fingering her. Her hips were moving like crazy, her head hidden in your neck. Though you took away her support, because you started eating her pussy.

That was too much for her brain, now totally drunk on pleasure. She grabbed your hair, basically grinding on your mouth. Her moans were out of control and her pussy was basically a river. After few minutes of frenzy, she cummed, almost fainting on the table.

Thank you for the ask, Anon 💙

Zazá

#kpop #ask me anything #kpop girls #kpop smut #le sserafim smut #le sserafim #le sserafim chaewon #chaewon izone #izone smut

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anonymous-dentist · 7 months

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Hi >> maybe some of your deli Super hero Au? (Something with Roier and Jaiden, or maybe Spreen's betrayal, if there's something like that in this AU?). If you don't want to, you can write whatever you want :D!

Jaiden is home late again. No big surprise there.

Roier finishes dinner by himself, and he eats it by himself. He portions out a plate for Jaiden, and he sets it in front of the seat across from him at the table. He watches TikToks on his phone as he eats, and he responds to Mariana’s texts for the first time in a week. He washes his plate, and he wraps Jaiden’s plate in aluminum foil and puts it in the fridge. For later.

Cellbit calls half an hour later, something short and sweet about a new piece of “Spider-Man Lore” he found in an old newspaper clipping from four years ago. Then he hangs up with a promise of showing Roier his new evidence board later in the week.

And then Roier is alone on his couch staring at a black and silent tv.

Minutes later, he’s suited up and slipping out his bedroom window and into the city for a very unscheduled patrol. There’s energy in his veins, and it’s killing him!

Q City is absolutely beautiful at night if you can look past the smog in the air and the blood on the streets. But, really, it’s just like any other city, it’s just a bit. Quirky.

The FoH building looms over the city like a shadow.

Roier flips it off as he swings by it, smiling as he catches the attention of a few low-rank heroes, who all take off after him shouting about turning himself in, as if he’d ever do that.

And then he sees her, an unfamiliar blue figure joining the pursuit. Well. “Unfamiliar”, the color is new. What happened to the black? Was that too “villain-y”?

“Spider-Man!” Blue Bird shouts. “You are under arrest!”

But she doesn’t sound too sure of herself, probably because she knows she was late for dinner for the third month in a row.

Once upon a time, she and Roier fought the Federation of Heroes together. Now? He’s lucky if she doesn’t fight him.

First Bobby, and now Jaiden. Fucking Cucurucho.

Maybe Cellbit’s onto something, Roier thinks as he swings himself up and out of reach. Because fuck the Federation, really. He could really save a lot of money on grocery bills if he knew whether or not to actually stop buying enough food to feed three.

#asks!#deli superhero au

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shadowsandshapes · 1 year

Text

FFTB | CH 1: Opening Gambit (Dabi/F!Reader)

Summary: Your game of poker is cut short by the arrival of the League of Villains. Why does shit always hit the fan when you're around to witness it? Gambling was how you paid the bills but tonight's score got you more than you bargained for. Contains: Swearing, Gambling, Canon-Typical Violence, Power Fantasy Elements, A Series Of Very Unfortunate Events, Smoking

START | Chapter Index | Ao3 Portal | Next ↠

It’s a good thing all the people at the poker table were villains – now you didn’t have to feel bad about scamming them out of all of their cash. Hard-earned or ill-gotten – you didn’t care. Money was money.

You stared at the cards face down on the table in front of you. A winning hand – you didn’t need your Quirk to know that. Tonight had been a fortunate night at the gambling hall. Well, for you at least. The same couldn’t be said for the poor sods that had unwittingly joined your table. Several villains sneered back at you, seething at the absolute garbage cards they had been dealt tonight. In more than just the literal sense – though you kept that amusing little fact to yourself. It must have been hard for those big, burly types – being utterly humiliated by a perfectly normal-looking young woman. Your soft features were definitely an asset when running casino scams. Even more so in illegal gambling halls like this one.

Everyone always underestimates a pretty girl in a tight dress.

“Tough luck, boys,” you declared, showing your cards: a simple three of a kind. It wasn’t the most impressive hand of the night, but it was enough to win the round. Again.

Such a terrible stroke of luck your opponents were experiencing. The poor fuckers had no idea your Quirk was to blame for them whiffing so hard they’d never financially recover. The perks of having an invisible ability – though, you still decided to make yourself scarce soon. It wouldn’t be much longer before the staff picked up on your little scheme. One more hand, you told yourself as the dealer slid your winnings towards you. A hefty pile of chips landed in front of you – you smiled sweetly at the gruff-looking fellow across the table who shot up from his stool with a huff. The chair clattered to the floor, causing several attendees to turn their heads. Having just lost the last of his wager to you, he was not in the best of moods.

“Hope you enjoy the cash, you gold-digging bitch!”

“Oh, I will~! I’m going to buy myself something cute and useless later. Just to piss you off.” You twirled your fingers playfully as he stomped off in a rage, watching him slink back to whatever hole he had crawled out of with a smile on your face. On his way out, the man passed a group of individuals making their way into the gambling hall – his anger vanished, replaced by icy-cold fear and horror. Recognizing their leader, the brute scrambled to get out of their way and rushed outside with his tail tucked between his legs. Several heads turned to look at the new arrivals, a chorus of whispers breaking out around you. Shit. There, illuminated by the neon glow emanating from the slot machines, was the League of Villains.

You reached out to the dealer – stopping him from giving you another hand. “On second thought, boss,” you said, offering a practiced and polite smile. “I’ve pushed my luck enough tonight. I’d like to cash out.”

“Whatsamatta, girlie?” one of the other players remarked, a sly smirk creeping onto his lips. “Scared of the big bad villains?” He barked out a laugh then took a drag from his cigar. The players at the table all chuckled at the man’s quip – but the relief on their faces at hearing you were leaving more than made up for their disrespect.

“Oh yes, terribly so,” you lied. “Good girls like me should be careful not to get caught up with bad folk, right?” Sugar coated your tongue as you spoke, playing up your performative innocence. Some of them fell for the charade, others knew you were full of shit. It didn’t matter – you just wanted to get out of there. If the League was here, you needed to be elsewhere. Getting on their bad side was not part of your schedule tonight.

“Next time I’m taking your money, sweet thing. If you’re lookin’ for a more permanent income though, I’m sure you’ve got something to sell to a gentleman like me.”

Disgusting old men and their perverted little fantasies. You ignored their laughter and whistles, swiftly making your way to the cash-out point to collect your winnings. Which – of course – happened to be right past the city’s most notorious group of trouble-makers. Why did they have to block your exit, standing around like a bunch of assholes? No big deal. Eyes forward – chin up. You straightened your back and smoothed out the creases in your dress. Walk like you own the place – that’s what you always did when you got nervous. It had never failed you before.

“Um – ‘scuse me,” you pardoned, squeezing past one of their members.

You had chosen the cosplayer as your target – a reptilian hybrid. Those guys were always dazzled by a pretty girl. His eyes flickered to yours and he opened his mouth to say something, a sneer most likely, but your woman-on-a-mission attitude kept him from speaking. That, or the fact he had noticed your attire. Rule number one of being a lady villain: wear something distractingly hot – it just might save your life. The reptilian man turned his head to follow your stride, elbowing one of his friends to gawk at you together. You could feel their eyes on you as you made your escape – breathing a sigh of relief as you saw your destination emerge within view.

Men were fucking stupid and so easily distracted.

Not the biggest score you’d gotten from gambling but certainly enough to pay rent for a while. Maybe even splurge a little on some fun stuff. You glanced at the bills in the envelope, leafing through them quickly to make a mental note of how much you had to work with.

The clerk rolled his eyes – he’d counted the cash himself after all. “Look, lady, it’s all there –”

“I believe you,” you cut in. “Just checking.” If anyone was ripping people off in this joint, it was you – but it was cute that he thought you were worried about being deceived. If anything, him making a mistake would probably lead to you getting more than you bargained for. Not less. "Thank y–"

A rumble shook the ground as a loud crash echoed throughout the casino. You glanced up at the ceiling, watching debris and dust fall down – cracks appearing on the surface of the concrete slab holding up the roof. Screams of panic erupted down the hall and a group of villains came running, followed by what seemed to be armed police forces.

A handful of Heroes emerged from the dust cloud to flank the officers and reality finally hit you: this was a goddamn raid.

The chaos was immediate. You didn’t think, just moved as you ducked into the aisles, pushing your way past heroes and villains alike. Dust and smoke obscured your vision as you ran – a difficult task in a cocktail dress and heels – but you didn’t have time to worry about that. Your Quirk alone wouldn’t save your life, but it would protect you at least a little bit. Luck would guide you.

A searing hot flash of blue flame just barely skirted by your head, toasting the hero that was mere inches away from catching up to you. He fell to the ground, screaming in agony as the flames swallowed him whole – leaving nothing but a smoking pile of ash behind. Holy shit, that was close. How long had he been chasing you? You skid across the carpet and pressed yourself up against a toppled-over pool table, eyes snapping toward the source of the fire. The League. They’d set up a defense near the back rooms and one of their members was hurling flames in your direction. As much as you wanted to avoid getting tangled up with them, they had the most advantageous position right now. Not to mention the back rooms had an exit. Anyone wanting to make a quick escape would have to breach the League’s makeshift barricade. Once again, they stood between you and your way out. Only this time, it was matter of life and death – or rather: a lifetime of imprisonment in Tartarus.

Several heroes prepared to make their advance on the barricade, further complicating your situation. You had to take care of those schmucks first. While you most definitely couldn’t go toe-to-toe with power types, these fellas looked like wet rags compared to the thugs you dealt with on a daily basis. Feeling confident, you grabbed a pool cue from the ground and picked up the 8-ball from among the debris. You tossed it in your hand – seeing the tell-tale glow of your Luck Quirk swirl around the sphere. People said this thing represented both sides of luck, the good and the bad—time to find out if it could compete with your own brand of misfortune.

You whistled, loudly, and stood up from your hiding place – the heroes snapped their heads back, just in time for one of them to get hit square in the face with the 8-ball. Nice. You smirked. Seemed like your throwing arm was still in working order. A lot of things happened at once then. You dashed forwards, using the pool cue as an improvised weapon to mow your way through the heroes and police. They struggled to keep track of you – your Lucky 8-ball causing several of their ranks to trip and fall in the world’s most hilarious domino effect. It was a genuine train wreck. The few who managed to avoid your trap were met with the suffocating embrace of your thighs around their neck. Using your hands to support yourself as you came down, you flipped them onto the ground. Knocked out. The pool cue shattered when you slammed it on a riot shield – but the resulting splinters slid in between the agent’s visor, temporarily blinding him. He staggered back, bumping into the rest of his squad. They were forced to focus on catching him – allowing you a brief window to vault across the League’s barricade.

As you landed on the other side, you noticed a few things. Number one: no one was here. The League had gone and fled while you were distracting their attackers. And number two: there was a huge fucking fire blocking the fire escape. Oh, the irony. You ran towards it – catching a glimpse of a dark-haired man on the other side of the door. His eyes met yours as he smirked back at you – the blue flames blazing on the palm of his hand igniting the space between you even more intensely. The fire roared, casting an eerie glow on your features and illuminating the bastard responsible for your misfortune. Your eyes narrowed at the man. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Skin burned to hell – metallic staples being the only thing that kept his healthy skin together. Dabi. You’d seen him on the news. A real nasty piece of work if the media was to be believed. While you wouldn’t call him ugly – you would, however, call him a massive bitch for cutting off your escape route.

“Motherfucker!” you cursed. “I’m on your side!”

“See, that’s a real shame,” Dabi said, shrugging. He didn’t seem all that upset about leaving you behind though, grinning like this was the funniest thing he’d seen all week. “Boss says we shouldn’t take any chances.”

No fucking way. They were seriously gonna leave your ass here, weren’t they? After all, you did get the heroes off their backs. Guess the rumors about the League of Villains were true after all. They looked out for themselves but walked all over everyone else. Fucking bastards.

“I covered your asses – !” You glanced back – hearing a commotion mounting behind you. The police were breaking through the barricade. Time’s up – if you stayed any longer, you were well on your way to a high-security cell in Tartarus. Your glare must have been fierce because, for a brief moment, the villain almost seemed to doubt his actions. You had spunk. Guts. But wasn’t enough – not for Dabi.

“And we’re real grateful pretty girl, we are – don’t take it personally, okay?” With that, he slammed the door in your face – blue flames engulfing the rest of the space. You tried stepping forward anyway but the sheer heat of the fire singed your arm as soon as you did. The intensity of it was enough to make you break a sweat. A Quirk this strong was truly no joke, huh? There was no way through. You were stuck.

Fuck! What a bunch of horseshit. You didn’t fucking deserve this.

“Put your hands where I can see them!”

Right. The cops. Almost forgot about those. You raised your hands into the air, slowly turning to face your future wardens. Red dots emerged on your chest and forehead as several laser sights trained themselves on your form. You glanced around – hoping your Quirk would highlight anything you could use – but nothing popped up. Had your Luck finally run out after all this time? All because of the fucking League of Villains. What a shame. You liked dressing up. Prison jumpsuits really wouldn’t look all that flattering on you.

“Game over, MissFortune – you’ve got nowhere left to run.” One of the agents stepped forward – keeping his gun trained on your body. You rolled your eyes at your villain moniker being used. “Unless you wanna take nosedive out the window, you’re coming with us.”

Now there’s an idea. You smiled. The nozzle of the gun raised upwards as you gave it a swift kick with your leg. It misfired and rained bullets into the sky, creating just enough confusion for you to make your escape. You threw yourself against the window panes. Arms crossed, legs forward and hoping for the best. The glass shattered as you went through. “That wasn’t a suggestion!” you heard in the distance as you entered freefall.

Too bad. It just wasn’t their lucky day, was it?

The wind whipped past your ears for mere seconds before you slammed down on something hard and metallic. It knocked the air from your lungs but you were otherwise unharmed. Not bad for a two-story drop. You swerved as whatever you had landed on jerked into motion. A car? You sat up, clinging to the edge of the vehicle. Yeah. Looks like you landed on a white, unmarked van. One that was currently speeding away from the gambling hall. Lucky.

Sirens roared to life behind you as several police cruisers began their pursuit. Unlucky. Your Quirk giveth and it taketh away. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on the nature of your abilities. A mop of white hair emerged from the passenger seat window and you froze as you found yourself face-to-face with Tomura Shigaraki himself. He climbed on top of the roof, staring you down from behind his hand mask.

“You?!” he hissed in recognition. “Whatever just get out of my way –”

Yup. Okay. You weren’t gonna argue with the guy who could end your life with a single hand. He made his way to the back of the van and opened the back doors – an immediate gust of blue flames greeted the police cruisers giving chase. Dabi was in the back, you realized. Somehow – you had landed directly on the League’s getaway vehicle. You’d wonder about the odds but that was futile at this point. Maybe after this, you’d be able to get even with the bastard who left you behind.

Your thoughts were cut short as the vehicle slipped – skidding across the asphalt at a diagonal. What the fuck was the driver doing? Your eyes widened as you noticed a slope on the side of the road coming closer – if he didn’t do something soon, you’d all end up in the river.

“For fuck’s sake, Spinner!” you heard Dabi’s voice call. “Keep your hands on the goddamn wheel –”

It was too late – a tire popped in the back, sending the van spinning out of control. You held on for dear life, subconsciously grabbing Shigaraki’s coat to pull him down with you. The van caught the guard rail and just blew through it – flying toward the water. The League of Villains, and one silly little girl, were headed directly to the bottom of the river.

Only – that didn’t happen. You closed your eyes and when you opened them again – you were in a house? A swirling shadow that you hadn’t noticed before surrounded everyone – then dissipated just as quickly, vanishing in the direction of someone in the corner of the room you didn’t recognize. The members of the League all let out a sigh, some doubling over on their knees to catch their breaths – others simply venting their frustration. Then all eyes fell on you.

“Hello~!” you chimed with a nervous laugh, twirling your fingers in a little wave.

“What the fuck just happened?” Dabi asked, fixing you with an ice-cold stare. “And why do I think you had something to do with it?”

“Look –” you raised your hands in defense. “I’m really sorry – but if you fuckers hadn’t left me to die, I wouldn’t have jumped out of the window. And if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have been on the roof of your van, okay?”

Shigaraki’s nails dug into his neck, scratching the skin raw. He groaned in annoyance and seemed to be deep in thought. “We lost our getaway car –” he lamented. “Who’s gonna pay for that?”

Score! You had a way out of this mess.

“I won big at the tables,” you said, digging into the hem of your dress in search of the envelope. “I mean, sure, this is my goddamn rent – but if it gets you off my ba–” Where is it. Where the fuck is it? You stuck your hand into your bra – unbothered by the eyes fixated on your shameless display. There was no envelope. Not in your left cup – or your right. “I uh – lost my rent. In the raid. Thanks for that, by the way.”

That was your bargaining chip. Which meant – whatever they wanted from you – you would have to pay up. Shigaraki gave you a long look – circling you like a vulture. His red eyes honed in on you like he was inspecting the goods. You bit your tongue. Every member of the League was fixated on you – assessing your worth. You tried pushing their reputation to the back of your mind. Shigaraki in particular was notorious for being ruthless – but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be intimidated by some guy with a skin condition. Fuck that. Moisturize before you threaten me. He circled around and came to a stop in front of you, having seemingly reached a consensus.

“Your Quirk,” Shigaraki started. “What is it? We saw you in there – that train wreck you caused wasn’t natural. How’d you do it?”

“I’m Lucky…” Their blank faces spoke volumes. “Shut up – I know it doesn’t seem like it.” You rubbed the back of your head, struggling to think of a way to explain your abilities. “I suck the luck out of my surroundings? Bad things happen wherever I go, but never to me – though I think today was a bit of an exception.”

‘Could be useful…” Shigaraki mused aloud, resting his teeth on the tip of his thumb. No way. He wasn’t actually considering this, was he? You were about to call him crazy when someone else beat you to the punch.

“You can’t be serious,” Dabi let out, crossing his arms. “Did you see the carnage she caused in there – who’s to say that won’t turn against us? She’s a loose canon.”

“I’m not the biggest fan of hotshot over here, but he’s right,” you cut in. “My Quirk is selfish. I work alone because other people tend to get caught in the crossfire. You don’t want this – trust me.”

“You’ll have to repay us somehow.” Shigaraki approached you, fingers outstretched with his palm wide open. You instinctively scooted back. Okay, so maybe he was just a little bit scary. His hand stopped, hovering a few inches from your face. “And considering you don’t have the money to reimburse the van, this is my offer: your service to the League – or your life. Your choice, Lucky.”

Fuck the League of Villains – but you weren’t dying tonight. “Fine. I’ll join your stupid little club.”

A/N: It's here. Finally. This took so long to write, so I truly hope you all enjoy the ride. To kick things off, we have a lot of setup in this chapter. I do apologize for that. Not all of them will be this long, I promise. I'm not going to make you guys wait too long for the rest, I just need to edit the chapters as they come out. I'm not quite done writing just yet, but I literally couldn't wait any longer to start posting.

Taglist: @kelin-is-writing @dynamars @dabislittlemouse @simpysheep @ohnoitsthatonekid

START | Chapter Index | Ao3 Portal | Next ↠

#shade's fftb #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi fic #touya x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #nearly forgot to tag #smoking #for milk

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n1ightw1ng · 3 months

Note

“do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?!” // if you’re wanting prompts i would love to see this with jaytimsteph? or timstephcass 💖

hey hey 😘 here's some fluffy timstephcass for ya ❤️

For the life of him, he could not find his favorite hoodie. Tim had searched every drawer, closet, nook and cranny in three safe houses–the Nest included–and the damn thing was nowhere to be found. He'd had it for years; he had picked it up at a music festival he'd visited with the rest of Young Justice (before a villain crashed it). It was two sizes too big at the time, so it still fit, and the GOO FIGHTERS graphic had cracked and faded.

But it was gone. And Tim was this close to a meltdown only his comfort hoodie could cure.

It wasn’t that he never let anyone borrow his clothes. He didn’t like to, but when all kinds of kid vigilantes were in and out of your room and sometimes covered in various fluids (human or alien), they borrowed your clothes. Kon had worn it before he died, and then Tim had worn it, unwashed, for long after it stopped smelling like his cologne and simply stunk. That was a while ago, though. Things were better now. And he liked his showers frequent and his laundry crisp.

Before he'd passed out after last night's patrol, Steph invited him to a late brunch at the local Gotham chain diner Grindstone’s. The Hill location was fairly close to the apartment she shared with Cass, enough so that the rotating cast of teenage servers knew all of their names. Tim was a less frequent visitor, strict as his diet was, but he suspected the staff gossiped about the guy with two girlfriends, or the girlfriends who sometimes brought their boyfriend, or whatever. It was also possible that they simply knew who Tim Drake was.

When he reached the diner, the girls were already there. They dragged him into their side of the booth and smoothed the paper place mats all together. Someone had procured a box of crayons and the beginnings of a very purple and yellow doodle of both Batgirls covered half the local ads. Steph squeezed him under her arm in a headlock because he wasn't going to order fries to share (and Grindstone's had the best cornmeal-coated fries in town), and he found himself face-to-face with the very familiar fabric of Cass's sweatshirt.

How had he missed it?

“That's mine,” he choked out, launching at her across Steph's lap the moment he was out of the headlock. “Where did you get that?!”

Cass blinked at him, a smug little twist to her lips. “You left it.”

No, he distinctly remembered folding it and placing it in his Favored Location in his closet beneath the theater–Oh. Oh, no. He'd worn it to movie night two weeks ago. And then the three of them had gotten a little…distracted, and he'd gone home the next morning in something else. Steph's oversized denim trucker jacket, with the huge pockets, he thought. He'd forgotten all about the hoodie.

“I need it back,” he sniffed. Steph elbowed him in the side. Their server was balancing five plates in her arms and didn't look prepared to handle whatever they were doing. Once he sat up, she spread out their dishes as best she could with the three of them on the same side of the table. Steph had gotten chocolate chip pancakes, Cass had ordered a cheesy omelet and a plate of corned beef hash, and Tim had gotten his favorites: strawberry-stuffed French toast and the fries he'd been threatened bodily harm over. Shortly after, she returned with a strawberry shake (Steph), an iced hot chocolate with whipped cream and shaved chocolate (Cass), and a frothy cappuccino with pistachio syrup (him). “I've been looking for that for days,” he said, because he wasn't going to let it go.

“Shut up and eat your berries,” Steph said, and cuffed his ear. She scooped some whipped cream off of Cass's drink. Cass simply took a bite of her omelet.

He leaned into Steph, giving Cass his best puppy eyes over her shoulder. “You don't understand,” he whined, “I need it for my health.”

“Bathroom,” Cass said, still with that twinkle in her eye, as she forced them to file out of the booth. When she stood, he noticed the odd fit of her jeans: they were narrowest at the top and too wide for her hips. They were shaped like Stephanie.

He pointed incredulously. “Do any of the clothes you're wearing belong to you?!”

Cass looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Underwear.” That shut him up. He flopped back in the booth to pick at his food. Steph relayed an engrossing story about her feral poetry professor, and then abruptly stopped. She tapped his shoulder frantically.

“Tim. Ohmigod.”

In front of their table, Cass was standing with the hoodie looped over one arm, but that wasn't the interesting part. She was wearing…well, underwear, he supposed, if one was the conservative sort. It was one of those bodysuits Steph had DM'd him, but he could never parse out if it was a hint for the next gift-giving occasion or if she just wanted to show him hot women in goth lingerie. The bodysuit itself was mostly translucent black, with twisting snakes slithering around the waist and breasts. Cass's stomach was almost bare under the fabric, but an ornate diamond shape clung above her belly button. She was wearing pasties. Tim could feel something very embarrassing happening to him under the table.

“Oh my God, you sexy creature!” Steph squealed. She very openly felt up Cass's waist and twirled around her to appreciate a 360 of the bodysuit (or, Tim thought painfully, what parts of it were visible above her jeans). “Tim! Say something!”

His throat felt dry. This was his punishment from God for asking Cass to take off a hoodie he could mostly live without. “I'm dying,” he said, “you're killing me. You're too beautiful.” It was very possible he would die in this diner crushed between Cass's femme fatale bodice and Steph's ample chest. There were certainly worse ways to go.

Nevertheless, as soon as he had his hoodie back, he threw it over his head and melted into the thick fabric. This time it was scented with Cass and the shampoo she shared with Steph.

Oh. Oh, this brunch was going to be torture.

#Timstephcass #Stephcasstim #dc fic #dc fluff #Saltwaterwrites #batcest #stephcass #timsteph #timcass

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ladyathenawisdom · 2 years

Text

Dandelions and Control Pt. 2

Warnings: Past Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Past emotional Abuse, Language, forced marriage.

Pt. 3

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

"I wanna make a deal."

Hero looked up from where she standing, she was out in the balcony in her new room since the two newly wedded couple wouldn't and didn't want to share a room.

It was a fairly large, bigger than her room in her apartment, that was for sure. There was very large walk in closet which was empty, except for her clothes which only fit in a small portion in the whole closet.

The bathroom was also nice, there was a nice big tub, a jacuzzi, a elegant glass shower with a mirror and decent looking decorative things. The curtains were clear, showing the shower itself. There was also a bench in between the sinks and the small table and baskets for laundry and other accessories.

The bedroom itself was pretty amazing. The bed large enough for atleast five people, the pillows soft and fluffy, the sheets silver and black. The walls painted a light shade of gray with black lamps. The windows were fairy normal with black curtains, along with a small balcony.

Fair to say was that she would never run out of material things.

"What?" Hero asks in confusion, turning to him.

Supervillain slowly walks inside the dimly lot room, staring at Hero who stood right in the light of the moon. She looked beautiful. He shook these thoughts away and moved around the few boxes in the room that still weren't unpacked.

He then joins her on the balcony, staring at the dark night sky. The airspace was clear, except for the fact that it was lit with stars and a few clouds were floating above.

The moon was full, and it was a view Hero would not forget. She had never seen the moon in such a pretty position, considering, her bedroom was on the second floor of a mansion.

She turned to him, frowning. "What deal?" She questions, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Supervillain clears his throat. "I wanna make a deal with you, Hero." He turns to her, choosing his words carefully. "I know that this.....marriage.....is not what you want, me either for the fact but both of us are now married. The treaty will not change, nor will it stop it. It was futile,"

"Is there a point to all of this?" Hero asks, letting out a sigh. She twiddles with the jewelry on her hands and wrists, eager to have them off along withe the dress and heels.

Supervillain stares at her, glancing away and clenching his jaw. "Look, I know we don't have the best relationship but I do believe in marriage, and know I do not like cheaters nor do I like divorces." He states.

Hero looks away but still listens carefully. "I would never cheat, even if this marriage is against our will,"

Supervillain slowly nods. "Look, our marriage is just a show for everyone, we'll keep our end of the bargain... for a few months before we start attacking." He shrugs, leaning against the railing. "Not that the Heroes could stop us since your not there anymore, you were clearly the brains. They gave you away, their loss, our gain."

Hero cracks a small smile.

Supervillain smiles back at her, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looked tired, like he had aged a millions year up. He wasn't the same conceited, laid back, cold, full of amusement villain that she knew. He looked like a guy who had lost his freedom.

Still, Hero listened carefully.

"Our..." Supervillain starts, hesitatinly. "...relationship. It's not ideal with me being a villlain and you being a hero. But I don't want our relationship to be disastrous either,"

"Then what?" Hero asks, she then proceeded to take the gloves off since they were bothering her. The cold air felt nice against her bare arms, the gloves had been long and reached past her elbows.

"We should have a mutual respect for each other, in public and in...private." He trails off, shifting in his stance. "Although this may not be what we want, I want us not to hate each other. We will have respect for each other, but don't try to stop me from doing villain stuff, nor will I stop you from doing anything you want."

Hero stares at him before slowly nodding. "Trust me, I have no intention to stop you or the other villains, not anymore." She says bitterly, looking away.

Supervillain stares at her, surprised.

She glances at him. "Don't look at me like that, he abandoned me. I couldn't see it before, maybe because I was so blind, but Superhero was never trying to help me." She swallows hard, fisting her hands. "He left me. He betrayed me. You and your friends can do whatever you want," she looks away.

Supervillain frowns as he watches her. He didn't like Superhero, no scratch that, he hated his nemesis. But now seeing the fight leaving Hero's eyes, he felt pure hatred for Superhero.

Hero glances at him. "I won't stop you. What else?"

"You can have whatever you want," Supervillain tells her, looking out in the distance. "Nothing can put a dent in my bank account, so you can buy whatever you want. Do whatever you want,"

"I'm not a material girl." Hero mutters with a shrug. "But okay."

Supervillain bites his lip, letting out a sigh. "I can't promise you that you'll be happy here, but I will try to make you happy. And," he adds hesitatinly. "You will be protected here. I will always protect you,"

Hero frowns and looks at Supervillain.

He looked like he was remembering something. His eyes were cast in the distance, in a daze of some kind. It was like he was in a memory of some sort, remembering something.

She didn't say anything. Unlike other times, the silence between them was comfortable. Hero could distinctively remember when she and her team used to get captured by Supervillain, her team would do the talking with Supervillain.

She would usually say silent, but she could always feel his eyes on her. Always.

...............

"You know you'll never win," Leader smirks, he may have been handcuffed like his teammates and on his knees but that did nothing to conceal his arrogance.

Supervillain only stared at him, his eyes raised and cold amusement on his face. He leant back his desk in his office, staring at the team of Heroes.

Leader was in front of them, on his knees since he was the main hero. Other Hero, Other Hero 2, Youngest and Hero were in the background, stood behind their so called Leader.

Supervillain could see that Other Hero was glaring at him, her eyes narrowed with disgust. She was trying to discreetly break free but she couldn't, and she was doing a bad job at it.

Other Hero 2 was also trying to break free, in his gaze was arrogance. He kept looking back ans forth between him and Leader, his lips pursued.

Youngest looked scared, however she did well to hide it, a futile attempt since she was shaking with fear but it was honorable.

The only smart person on the team, from what Supervillain could gather, was Hero. She had stayed silent and had been observing everything silently, looking around and she wasn't trying to break free. A smart move on her part.

She didn't look scared, she instead looked annoyed, she looked absolutely done with her Leader. But for some reason, she had stayed silent and instead watched her Leader babble stupid stuff.

Supervillain was starting to like this Hero. Every time he saw her, she had stayed silent and was always observing everything. She was smart and intellectual. Something he could tolerate.

"And why pray tell, will that happen?" Supervillain asks, cocking his eyebrow.

Leader grins. "Because villains are always destined to lose. Our organization will come for us."

"Like hell they will," Supervillain heard Hero mutter under her breath. He raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face.

He looks at Leader. "Hmm, you may be leader but your not the brains, no, your too stupid for that." He rolls his eyes.

Leader clenched his jaw, glaring at him.

Supervillain looks at Hero. "You however, unlike your incompetent team, look smart enough." He smirks. "Tell me, do you think you'll get out of here."

Hero blinks. No one ever talked to her, she was only ever a background hero. She hesitatinly glances at her leader.

"Why are you looking at him?" Supervillain asks. "I asked you the question. Not your dumb leader."

"Hey!" Leader protests. "I'm the team leader, not her!" He snaps, clenching his jaw.

Supervillain raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He mocks with a chuckle, he glances around tye room at his people. "Because here I thought the hero organization tasks the smartest people as the leader, not the dumbest. Look like I was wrong," he shakes his head. "Because to be honest, she looks like the smartest."

Laughter rang around the room.

"Sweetheart," Supervillain says turning to Hero. "You didn't answer my question." He raises an eyebrow at her, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"No, I don't." Hero answers.

"Hero, what the fuck?" Other Hero asks with a glare.

Hero ignores her. "We can't escape because at the front of your lair you have a two key system which can only be opened by your recna scan, your eye scan to be specific. And most, or well, all of your guards have a gun which is a MG3 Machine Gun, which can be dangerous." She nods to the guards.

"Your lair also has a set of traps, the staircase has a sensitive system which can determine if someone is running and can, therefore turn into a slide or trap them with a net." She explains.

Her team gawks at her.

"Each door in your lair has a lock with a pin, which we do not know. All the windows are probably, most likely, locked and even if they are unlocked, they will most likely hold a trap of some sort. Your guards also carry stabs which guess also have a lightning shock or taser in them which can be used to shock people. Your guards also know how to fight with a sword due to their marks, they have calluses on their hands, I have the same calluses. Your also too smug, which can mean you can fight each of us and defeat us easily. And this room, I'm betting, has a touch system too." She smiles. "Each hallway also has a camera, which can also help you to see us if we mayhe even escape, and that is a hard maybe."

Everyone stares at her, one of the guards shifts uncomfortably.

Henchmen stares at her, his lips parted, he looks around before looking at his boss.

Supervillain stares at her, his gaze cold before he smirks with amusement. He slowly brings his hands up and together and claps, an impressed look on his face.

Leader stares at her, his eyes wide with shock while Youngest stares at her with awe. Other Hero stays silent but she gulps. Other Hero 2 stares at Hero, his eyes wide.

"Was I right?" Hero asks, raising an eyebrow. She smiles at Supervillain, leaning back on her feet.

"I knew you were the brains. I knew you were smart but not at this point," Supervillain grins, he stands up and goes to stand in front of her, impressed. "And yes, you were right." He whispers.

Hero smiles.

He slowly raised his hand and caressed her cheek, looking into her eyes. "How would you feel to join me? I could certainly use you on my side." He asks, his tone gentle and soft, his eyes boring into hers.

Hero stares at him, her cheeks heating up but she composes herself.

"The fuck?" Other Hero asks, looking wise eyed. She looks at Hero with a glare.

"Hero...." Leader glares at her, why couldn't she have stayed silent?

"Tempting, but no." Hero backs away, narrowing her pretty eyes at him. "Never in my life."

Supervillain pouts. "I've never been rejected before, hmm, oh well." He shrugs. "Maybe next time," he winks. "I'll see you soon, Hero, along with your dumb team." He smirks.

"Hey, we're right here!" Other Hero 2 snaps.

"Oh," Supervillain breathes. "I know. See you next time, Hero." He smiles.

............

There meeting may have not been ideal but she had certainly caught his eyes, he had been impressed with her from the beginning. He had observed her.

Unlike other Heroes, she didn't judge villains based on what they did. She didn't care if they were a villain or not, she helped them no matter what. And she didn't do it for the glory.

Supervillain looks at her. "I'll leave you too it," he says before turning around and walking out of the room. The door closed behind him.

Hero sighs and looks back at the sky, her eyes flashing with contempt.

Would this be her life now? Living with the city's most dangerous and notorious Supervillain? Being married to him? Why would this even matter?

Would they even care? No, she supposed not. She didn't like him, not that much, but she tolerated him better than the other villains. He might have been dangerous and a killer, but she knew him.

Unlike other villains and supervillains, he had morals. No innocents or children involved. She knew that because she had seen it firsthand, she had kept an eye on him. He was somewhat....good.

That felt weird. Saying he was good.

Hero shakes her head, no, she supposed she wouldn't ever get used to it.

Being married to Supervillain, she guessed would be a nightmare. She swallows hard, she's always hated crying, she thought it made her weak.

Stop crying, it's weak.

Weak people, cry, Hero. Are you weak?

Stop. Crying!

She heard Superhero's voice in her head, along with the familar slash of the whip. She still had the bruises.

It was all her fault. The bruises were all her fault, every failure, every time she failed. Every time she was weak. Perhaps Superhero was right, she had to keep Supervillain happy so he didn't attack the city.

But nothing could stop the Villains. Would Superhero blame her? Would he hurt her again? Would he punish her?

But he couldn't. She would be protected here. But what about everywhere else? Was she still technically a Hero?

Why was all of this so confusing? She shakes her head and decides to sleep on it. After changing of course.

....

The next morning when she gets up and gets ready, she walks down the stairs to see in the living room, Henchmen on the sofa.

He looked busy with paperwork around on the table. She looks around, seeing that the mansion was empty. She spots a few maids cleaning and setting stuff up but no one else.

"Morning." Henchmen tells her with a smile, he grabs hid glass of what wither seemed to he bourbon or whiskey and took a sip.

"Morning." Hero answers tightly, she plays with the short white dress she had on. The sleeves were short and ruffled and the length was just aobe her knees, she wore matching white heels. "Where's Supervillain?" She asks, sitting across from him.

She sees a maid bring out a plate with a croissant and a chocolate chip muffin with a large cup of coffee. "Thank you," she smiles kindly at the maid.

The maid only nods fearfully.

Hero watches her go with a frown, she turns back to Henchmen.

"Supervillain was called on urgent business." Henchmen smiles at her awkwardly. "He left super early in the morning, he'll be back in a week."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Henchmen smiles. "Sorry about that.":

"Why be sorry? It's not like we like each other," Hero shrugs and picks up the muffin.

Henchmen slowly nods, however a frown grows on his face as he watches his boss' wife eat her breakfast. He knew that the two didn't really, well, like each other. I mean, they were enemies of course. On opposite sides.

But that wasn't the case anymore. No, it wasn't. Hero was married to Supervillain now. That meant she was on their side, on his side now. Probably.

That meant that they would have to get along. Henchmen wasn't thinking like romance and stuff, not yet anyway. Maybe get along like friends or something like partners, but they would have to get along.

He wondered what would happen in the future?

Only time could tell.

"What's your favorite flower?" Henchmen all of a sudden asks.

Hero raises an eyebrow.

"What?" Henchmen shrugs. "I'm saying if we're gonna be family and shit like that, we should get to know each other."

Hero stares at him for a few seconds. "Dandelions. I like Dandelions." She smiles. "White is my favorite color."

"Gray is mine,"

"Obviously." Hero snorts.

Henchmen laughs. Yeah, he has a feeling that wuth Hero here, things will be looking brighter already.

#supervillianxheroprompt #supervillianxhero #hero x supervillain #flirty villain x flustered hero #villain x hero #villian x hero #heroxvillianprompt #heroxvillain snippet #hero x villain #henchmen #villain x sidekick #villain x superhero #superhero

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yeongwonie · 2 years

Text

"have you found what you're looking for, apollo?"

EYE TO EYE (teaser)

when kang seulgi calls you in to discuss your future as hero mercury, it feels like your career is finally headed in the right direction. that is, until you stumble into supervillain and head of the anti-hero resistance, apollo, on your way to the office.

or, you're a hero, sunoo's a villain, and you get bodyswapped.

pairing sunoo x gn!reader

genre enemies to lovers, superhero au, bodyswap

warnings violence, injuries, fire, bad aliases and skill names, very self-discovery centric, wooyoung is younger than sunoo because i felt like it

word count est. 20k?, teaser is 1.1k

featuring wooyoung of ateez, seulgi of red velvet

release late august!

+ please lmk if you want to be tagged when i post the full fic by sending an ask or replying to this post ^^ (perm will be tagged by default)

FROM THE MOMENT YOU WAKE UP, you know it’s going to be a good day.

Your eyes open the instant before your alarm rings, leaving you just enough time to reach over and click off your phone when the screen lights up, so you don’t have to hear the blaring sound. After you do, you somehow also feel well-rested after your few hours of sleep. Once you sit up and pull your arms above your head to stretch, your neck isn’t stiff, and your shoulders feel relaxed and flexible. When you pad into your living room to watch the morning news, you actually see the little logo on the loading display of your television bounce perfectly off of the corner of the screen.

Good omen, followed by good omen, followed by good omen.

And so, even though you have what could be considered a career-defining (and possibly career-ending) meeting scheduled for precisely 10:30 AM with your boss’ boss’ boss’ boss, one of the most frightening women you’ve ever met, you feel hopeful. Excited, even.

The prior evening, Kang Seulgi, or Time Slip, as she was more commonly known, had sent arguably the most anxiety-inducing email you’d ever received. In no more than two hundred characters, she’d told you that you’d be meeting with her personally to discuss your future activity with the company.

In all honesty, you weren’t sure if that entailed a promotion, or if that was your hint to start looking into a new line of work, but nonetheless, you sent your reply agreeing within five minutes (because one does not waste the Time Slip’s time).

Maybe your morning would’ve gone differently had you waited for your alarm. Maybe if your shoulders had been stiff, you’d have spent an extra five minutes stretching. Maybe if you hadn’t seen the stupid DVD logo hit the stupid corner of your stupid television, you would’ve actually watched the news broadcast and seen warnings of a small-scale villain tormenting an intersection two blocks from your apartment building.

But, the universe had aligned perfectly, so you leave your house at 9:45 and make it to the aforementioned intersection at 9:50 on the dot.

✷✷✷

KIM SUNOO DOESN’T ENJOY WAKING UP, these days.

In his first days at the resistance’ building (a room no larger than the average hotel room with a long table placed in the center that they’d all crowded around, desperately drawing up plans for their next big heist and their grand scheme of taking down HYBE), he’d always been excited to go into work. Waking up in the morning felt like reaching just a little further toward this innate, inexplicable light at the end of the tunnel. Now, although they have actual office chairs and conference rooms and enough funding to never have to worry about black mold or leaks in the ceiling ever again, something is missing.

Now, at the ripe age of 23, his young-adult body is worn from what feels like centuries’ worth of pressure, like the spite that had previously served as his engine has dwindled and left him stranded in the middle of the highway without gasoline.

He feels he is a product not of growth, but of drastic, haphazard changes crammed together into one form, like those really shitty fruit salads. The line tracing from the person he was seven years ago to who he is now is a squiggle at best.

Simply put, years of villain work have left him disillusioned.

This is why, although he has a meeting at 10 AM to discuss the future of the resistance and the downfall of HYBE, by 9:47, Sunoo is still sitting at his kitchen counter nursing an iced coffee with copious amounts of cream and sugar. He lifts the glass to his lips, feels the rim, chilled by the ice floating near the surface, then takes a sip. His concoction is sweet on his tongue, almost unbearably so, but the undeniable bitterness of the coffee remains underlying.

And then Sunoo nearly spills the drink down the front of his shirt. What is he doing?

Almost as though the frankly concerning flavor of his morning coffee has shocked him into regaining his senses, he jolts upright, shoulders stiff. The glass is slammed onto the table (not with too much force, though; working for a nonprofit evil organization doesn’t pay nearly enough for him to buy a new set of dining ware).

In the two seconds it takes Kim Sunoo to stand from the barstool, he decides that yes, he is disillusioned with villainhood, but not enough to throw away everything he’s built over the past half-decade in favor of finishing his shitty cup of iced coffee. He needs to attend this meeting, if not for his present self, then for the person he once was.

In sum: Sunoo feels hope—for the first time in a while—and a newfound sense of determination. The feeling reaches up and grabs him by the collar, dragging him to his coat rack, then his shoes, then out the door towards his future.

✷✷✷

JUNG WOOYOUNG JUST WANTS TO BE SEEN.

That morning, he’d been 18, starry-eyed, fresh out of high school, and waiting at the doors of HYBE, because despite what everyone around him insisted, he knew that you didn’t need to graduate from a hero school to be someone great. All you had to do was want to help people.

Unfortunately, his interviewer hadn’t felt the same way. She’d asked him two, maybe three questions (one of which had been whether he was the delivery driver with their coffee order), then sent him back into the lonely streets of Seoul. No job, no internship, not even a business card.

What do you do when everything you’ve been working toward your entire life crumbles down around you? He truly isn’t sure.

The last thing Wooyoung wants is to go home. There, his mother and father will be waiting with him, arms crossed and condescending smiles shrouded in sympathy painted across their faces. His father will say, “You can’t win them all,” or, “Hey, it was a long shot anyway,” and Wooyoung will bite back tears as his fingernails dig crescents into his palms.

His mother will offer to make him some galbi-jjim, and he’ll agree, and every single bite will taste like pity.

To delay this inevitable fate for as long as possible, Wooyoung decides to stop at the convenience store and drown his sorrows in a peach-passion-sunshine-candy-grapefruit-ade. And it works for all of five minutes, but then the cashier opens his stupid mouth, and everything goes to shit.

#sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo angst #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #sunoo oneshots #enhypen oneshots #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Biggest Fan Part Four

Part One Part Two Part Three

"You know I publicly announced our relationship so that we could go out, right?" Hero said, chin rested puppylike on the edge of the table.

Villain broke apart their chopsticks with a light snap and began heaping a pile of steaming chow mein on a paper plate.

"Yeees, but I like eating in. You don't have to worry about waiters or noise or anyone watching you. Plus, I can do this." They leaned across the table and pecked Hero on the forehead.

A wave of heat immediately washed over Villain's face but luckily Hero's ears burned brighter. They were never going to get used to this, were they? Maybe they were both hopeless.

Hero tugged a piece of blonde hair over their face in an attempt to shield their embarrassment, but it only reached to their eyebrow. "I...suppose that's a pretty big plus."

Villain grinned and went back to hovering chopsticks over take-out boxes. "What entrees do you want?"

"Orange chicken and Szechuan pork."

Hero slowly rose out of their melted blushing puddle and leaned in a little, eyes steadily watching as Villain began folding back the taps of more boxes. They were only divvying out dinner, but from Hero's expression, you'd think they were balancing knives on their nose while doing the ballet.

"I really do want to take you places," Hero said abruptly.

"We do go places."

"Movie theatres, plays, really dim restaurants, places people can't make out our faces. I know what you're doing."

Villain flinched. Their chopsticks squeezed too hard on their egg roll, and it began oozing cabbage out of the middle. "You do?"

"It's sweet,” Hero said, fingers brushing Villain’s wrist, “but you don't have to worry about me, Savant. I'm fine. I don't care what anybody thinks. I just care about you."

They barely held back their sigh of relief, though the sick feeling in their gut remained persistent. Would Hero be so nonchalant if they knew the truth? Probably not. This time, this bliss, it was a miracle. One that Villain probably didn’t deserve, but they were too selfish to give up.

Villain forced a coy smile before selecting an especially fat piece of orange chicken between their chopsticks and holding it out to them.

"We've only known each other a few months. Where do you get off being so cheesy?”

Hero took the chicken in their teeth and mumbled out the side of their cheek. “Probably you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah," Hero said, chewing. "All that ‘I’m your biggest fan; you're so attractive; I kiss a poster with your face on it’ stuff? Super cheesy. Royally cheesy."

"Pretty sure I never said any of that."

"I read between the lines."

Villain snorted. “Oh riiight. It's not like you're the one who asked me on our first date, begged me to be your partner on live television, and drew me on a trading card that you keep on your nightstand. You’re obsessed with me.

“Obsessed?” Hero grinned, leaning in further on their elbows now.

Villain mirrored their movement. “Completely."

Hero swallowed and came within a blushing inch of Villain's face, breath blowing out sweet and vaguely citrus across the arch of the nose. “Well, I suppose that's hard to help when a gorgeous, talented, fiery bombshell falls in your lap and admits they like you."

Villain closed the gap softly, the feverish heat escaping off their skin only a smolder against Hero's mouth rather than the scald of their first kiss.

Hero pulled back just far enough to show the dusty pink airbrushed across the bridge of their nose. "Plus, you give the most addictive kisses."

Villain kissed them again in reply, slowly inching from their lips up the curve of their jaw. Little temporary scorch marks, one for each kiss, trailed their face in warm red. The bad feeling in Villain's stomach remained only a flickering candlewick now. No need to worry yet. They still had time.

Hero broke off Villain's next kiss with a tactical turn of their head, pressing their foreheads together and unfairly incapacitating them with those crashing wave eyes. They wound a piece of Villain's charcoal hair around their forefinger. “So there’s this party going on at city hall. It’s not really a company party, but a lot of company people are going to be there. And I was thinking maybe we could go together?”

Villain froze solid, lips still parted and puckered.

“Please?”

“I don’t know—“

Savant. Please.”

Hero's brow had scrunched somewhere between hopeful and desperate. Villain had already successfully avoided the agency's Valentine's and Spring Fling parties, as well as a couple personal dinners with Hero's closest coworkers, but with each new batch of made-up plans, the light in their lover's eyes died a little more.

"I..."

Hero bit their lip in anticipation, hands subconsciously squeezing Villain's wrist and the edge of the table.

Maybe they could wear makeup. Lots of makeup. And...do something about their hair. Cut it or dye it or something. They'd heard that small changes to the appearance or a face showing up in an unexpected place could really throw people off. Besides, they hadn't been front-page in over a year, so their face wasn't fresh in anyone's minds. Maybe no one would recognize them.

“Ok.”

Hero's face bloomed. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure, of course. I'm...looking forward to it."

"Don't be nervous." Hero pecked Villain on the brow and withdrew back to their side of the table with their plate. "Everyone's going to love you."

Villain couldn't hold their smile so they averted their gaze to their plate. "Yeah."

If they don't kill me.

***

Villain stared up at the pale, white-washed pillars of the capital building. The grain of the stone glittered beneath the bright hanging lamps, bathing it in a horizontal rainbow of light. This venue was even worse than they had imagined. Unlike the parties at the agency, inside awaited not just heroes, but politicians, reporters, celebrities. They felt like a moth drawn to a bug zapper.

A light tap on their shoulder sent them whirling around, tiny flames already rising across outstretched palms.

"Hey," Hero said with a gentle laugh, twining their hands into both of Villain's and dampening the flames with barely a wince. "It's just me."

Villain sighed and barely held back from sinking against them. "Hi."

Hero held them out admiringly.

"You look..." Hero trailed, cocking their head to the side, "...well, beautiful, but also...very interesting."

Villain shuffled uncomfortably. The thick plaster of their foundation and contouring cream weighed heavy on their skin, applied in a way that sharpened the soft curves of their faces. If that didn't alter their face enough, hopefully, the heavily drawn eyebrows did the trick. Fake eyelashes kept tickling their cheeks and their head ached a little from pulling up their hair in the tightest bun they could manage, orange ends tucked inward. Then there were these--

"What's with the glasses?"

Villain fiddled with the frames. "M-my eyes are a little tired from reading so--"

Hero plucked them off their face and slid them onto their own nose. They raised one eyebrow. "No prescription."

"Well, I...I..."

Hero chuckled and slid the glasses into their suit pocket. "What are you trying to disguise? Everyone here already knows who I am, and they know you're my date."

Villain's fingers itched to snatch the frames back, but they knew they didn't have a good explanation, so they let it alone. "Just nervous."

At least that wasn't a lie. Their stomach was practically eating itself.

"It's going to be ok. My coworkers are really nice. I've told them a lot about you already, and they don't care at all that your villain. And anyone here who does care, we don't have to talk to."

With the soothing balm of Hero's voice working into their anxiety, Villain could almost believe that this night would turn out ok.

“Ok.”

Hero shot them an encouraging smile and, taking them by the arm, led them up the steps.

They dragged them in too fast, and their knees nearly caved beneath the sheer amount of people stuffed into this one big room. Everything felt too loud and too bright, and the air was stuffy with too many colognes and perfumes.

“I want to introduce you to Caveat first,” Hero said, pulling them along excitedly.

Next thing they knew, they were being placed in front of an all too familiar face with sharp cheekbones, mussed frosted hair and ice chip eyes that could pierce through someone’s soul.

Villain immediately ducked their head. They’d only ever encountered Wayward city’s ex-favorite a couple of times, but fire and ice made for some memorable fights.

“This is Savant,” Hero said.

“Savant,” Caveat repeated, weighing it in their mouth. “It’s good to finally put a face to the name. No one can have a conversation with Hero anymore without them finding a way to bring you up.”

“I don’t think they need to know that,” Hero said, squirming a little in their shoes.

The corner of Caveat’s lip tugged upward. “What? That’s not embarrassing. Is that embarrassing, Savant?”

Villain dared to lift their eyes to the superhero’s. “No. It’s cute.”

“See?” Caveat said, slapping Hero’s arm. “If you want to talk embarrassing, we should bring up that bank heist last week. You know, the part when you—“

“Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Caveat,” Hero said snatching Villain by the shoulders and steering them toward the refreshment table. “See you at work!”

“Hey!” Caveat called after them with a cackle. “I haven’t shown them your rookie pictures yet!”

Now Villain understood why Hero had been so adamant in that interview about they and Caveat’s relationship status. Caveat couldn’t have been many years older than Hero, but their dynamic was definitely for embarrassing mom than romantic partner.

“Well now I want to know what happened at the bank heist,” Villain said, bumping their elbow back into Hero’s ribs.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to, I’ll just go back and ask— Woooah!”

Hero pulled them out of their feigned march back to the other side of the room, swinging them in a smooth circle that ended with them clasped between their arms.

Villain looked up them. “That was smooth.”

“Was it?” Hero beamed.

“Well, it was up until you said that. The blush doesn’t help either.”

“You’re blushing too!”

Villain touched their hand to their cheek. Yep. Scalding. Hopefully their makeup didn’t drip.

“Guess we’re a match made in heaven,” Villain chuckled awkwardly.

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a while, a collective pool of simmering tomato soup.

“We should get some punch,” Hero finally said. “Before you combust.”

“Ha ha.” They edged down the table toward the large frosted punch bowl at the end. “How about I start making wind jokes?”

“What would a wind joke even sound like?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

While Hero was thinking, Villain took a glass and one of the two ladles in their hand.

“That’s just immature!” Hero said.

Villain’s laugh escaped as a squeak and half the punch in their ladle sloshed out onto another guest’s hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Villain yelped, following the scarlet stained cuff sleeve to its owner’s face. Even though most heroes weren’t in costume, this one wore an electric blue eye mask.

“That’s…” The hero stopped, narrowing their eyes. “…fine.”

“Oh…hey, Luck,” Hero stepped closer to Villain. “This is, um, Savant.”

“Uh…huh?”

Luck didn’t really sound like he was listening. He was too busy flicking their eyes up and down Villain’s body, slowly, carefully, as if stripping away each layer of trickery.

“Nice to meet you,” Villain said quickly and turned to point to a random spot across the room. “Hey, Hero, let’s go over there.”

"Aren't you the villain who killed all those kids?"

Villain’s heart plunged down into their shoes.

“Oh just shut up for once,” Hero said, circling one arm protectively around Villain’s shoulders.

The other hero rose his eyebrows. “Woow, finally biting back are we? I’d love to argue on, but I’m actually serious. They’re that villain from the manhunt a few years ago.”

“No.” Hero scoffed. “No, they’re new to the villain scene. Until this year they've only been a henchman, right, Savant?"

Villain didn't respond. They wanted to. They wanted to laugh and deny and move on with this party, but their tongue wouldn't come unstuck from the roof of their mouth. Everything tasted dry; they couldn't even swallow. And all the while that they stood staring, the confidence in Hero's face was shifting.

"Is that what they told you?" the other hero said, voice growing louder. He snorted and narrowed his eyes on Villain. "You're newer than they are, kid. They can try to cover it up, but I know that face. News broadcasted it 24/7 for two weeks. The search lasted months until some hot shot supervillain dragged them in squealing. Guess even other villains couldn't stand the sight of them."

Villain's lungs burned. It felt like their breath was coming in through a straw.

Say something! Anything! Just don't let Hero hear any further!

"What do they call you?" Luck snarled, invisible bands tightening around Villain with every word. "Pyre?”

Villain flinched so hard they bumped against Hero's chest. Their eyes flicked desperately around the room instinctively putting together an escape route, but all they saw were dozens of staring eyes. That hero had been loud on purpose. They all knew.

Pyre licked their lips and finally managed to coax a whisper up their throat, though it croaked terribly. "I-I don't want any trouble."

"Really? Is that why you faked a name and approached a hero who you knew wouldn't know you? Because you're harmless? Or do you really think you can rest easy and forget what you've done?"

"I haven't forgotten," Pyre said, almost a plea.

"You don't get to live normally after that."

Luck took a menacing step forward and a few other members of the crowd echoed it.

"Now wait a minute--" Hero started.

Pyre twisted out of their grip, not ready for that protectiveness to turn constraining. They whipped their head around like a wild thing, turning everything in the room slightly blurry. Finally, their eyes settled on what they were looking for, the gaping front door.

Only one option left.

They ran.

"Get them!"

The crowd surged forward in one angry, manic mass, bodies scrambling over each other, shouts mixing together in ugly harmony, fingernails snagging in Pyre's clothes. An instinctual and defensive wave of heat gathered beneath the surface of their skin, bursting out in an explosive ring of fire that sent the crowd reeling back just far enough to clear a path to the door.

"Wait!" Hero's voice cut through the chaos. "Leave them alone!"

Pyre glanced back, but the crowd was already regrouping, and heroes were beginning to remember that they had powers. They needed to keep running.

The beginnings of a storm brewed overhead, but the night air lashing across their face barely cooled them. The soles of their shoes softened with each pounding step until eventually they melted into a hot, sticky sludge. They kicked off the remains, letting their bare feet sizzle in the first drops of rain.

They ran. And ran. And ran. Leaving Hero's scared and confused face far behind.

Part Five

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @yulanlavender @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @appleejuice @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378

#almost stopped at the asterisks #you’re welcome #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writing snippet #creative writing #heroes and villains community #villain #hero #villain x hero #fiction #superheroes and villains

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hellishattempt · 1 year

Text

angst superache songs as relationships with the batboys pt 3

this is the final part of the three !! i decided to try my hand at writing something for bruce and duke, even though both are like,,,, unknown quantities of the dcu. i mean, i know bruce, obviously. i own every batman game / movie and this big ass book on the batman. but duke? duke is a foreign language to me. and i speak a LOT of languages. so bear with me on this.

like before, this is gender neutral reader / no pronouns used <3

you can find part one ( dick + jason ) here & part two ( tim and damian ) here !

footnote - bruce wayne. the billionaire, philanthropist playboy is many things to many people, but to you, he's your childhood friend, and business partner. as the ceos of wayne enterprises and inkling incorporation, the two of you have worked closely, especially as bruce decided to step into his role more. having known bruce for so long, you know all about his public persona. he's a playboy, with extravagant and foreign women on his arm every night, and it's never the same woman. you're close enough with alfred to know all about bruce's "sleepovers". but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have feelings for bruce. it's stupid, you know this, to be in love with someone like bruce wayne. tonight, the two of you are hosting a gala for one of the charities you both fund. and tonight, you've had just a little bit too much to drink. "evening, brucie" you slur slightly, a glass of champagne between your lips. bruce was in the middle of what looked like an intense conversation with lucius fox, a friend and owner of foxteca. bruce looked to you, noticing your drunken state, and apologized to lucius. "we'll have to continue this later," then he turns to you. grabbing you just above the elbow, bruce rushes the two of you to a more private corner of the venue. "are- are you drunk?" he sounds incredulous. "i've never seen you drunk before. you need to sober up." bruce reaches to take the glass from your hands. as he does, you lean in and whisper into his ear "i like you, brucie." a giggle escapes from your lips. bruce's face is serious and stern. "sober. up. now's not the time for lies and jokes." you frown. "but why would i lie, when it's so clear that i'm in love with you?" a tense conversation follows. bruce likes someone else. you say, "if i waited, would that maybe help?" but bruce says patience won't change how he felt. someone calls out to bruce and he's gone in a second, his public mask back on. you're left standing alone. you leave the party silently. on monday, you're sober and yourself again. you play off your confession as a joke and blame it on the alcohol when bruce comes to check in on you. pretending you don't feel anything is easier than him thinking of you as some lovesick girl. you have to stop being pretentious and loathing your friendship with bruce. it's okay, because this taught you a lesson: love isn't precious. it's not like the novels, no pride and prejudice at all. so you'll just take the footnote in his life. he could take your body, your soul, your mind, everything from you. every line that you write for him will never be read or enjoyed, so a footnote will do. bruce, being ever the charmer and gentleman he is, asked to take you to dinner, to make sure you were really okay. friday night, exactly a week from the gala, you and bruce have a restaurant at gotham's own vigilantes and villains, a five star restaurant built by harvey dent after he was reintroduced to society. it's the only restaurant that will cater to civilians, vigilantes and the villains of arkham. harvey said he built it so he didn't have to feel so torn between his personalities. as you and bruce are sat your table, the host says she thinks you two are cute. they think you're a couple, so they buy you some booze. you two share the moscato, and laughed cause it's true to you. and you'd be embarrassed of you weren't so pleased that everyone else sees what bruce will never see. you're perfect together, but you'll never be the one. this teaches you another lesson: feelings are reckless. just like the novels, side characters end up alone. in bruce's story, you are no more than a side character. so a footnote will have to do.

jigsaw - duke thomas. duke is so in love with you, it's obvious. he wants nothing more than to be the object of your love. if changing his clothes would mean you like him more, if changing his hair would make you care, he'd grab the kitchen scissors and cut himself to slivers for you. if being polite kept you satisfied, if being less insane would make you stay, then he'd be more like his adoptive sisters, saying "thank you ma'am and mister," to you, for you. as much as you adore his affection and idolization of you, your feelings for him aren't like that. he's your brother, your best friend. he's the only one of the waynes that you feel like you can really trust, who understands what it's like to be the odd one out of the family. signal and psycho are partners in crime fighting, just as tight knit as duke and you are when the masks are off. you notice his changes, and it doesn't mean much to you. all people mature in different ways, so what does it matter that duke is molding himself to be your ideal partner? he's changed every part of himself, until the puzzle pieces aren't him at all. it's ruined your friendship, and it's ruining him. your relationship is on thin ice, and you pretend not to know it. you like the new duke. he's perfect. little do you know, duke looks in the mirror, and all he sees is a jigsaw. you take every part of him, all the things you need. then the rest. you discard. you make him into something he's not. you don't realize it, but you're the one who's made this version of him. it's like duke is your frankenstein's monster, and you're the crazy doctor. you don't notice this. or maybe you do, but just choose not to care. but duke's family notices it. dick, jason, tim, steph, cass, even damian. they all see the changes you've made. they see what you're doing to their brother, how you're damaging him. it hurts them to see him hurt. "all you're doing to make her happy? and still, she doesn't fucking love you?" tim prods. "you're killing parts of yourself to fit her, thomas." damian adds. to that, jason scoffs. "it's clear as shit you're not the issue." dick takes a seat next to duke, gently draping an arm over his brother's shoulders. "if you made her like you, would you even like yourself?" duke's mind is racing. he doesn't want to believe their words. he knows it's true, though, he just doesn't want to accept it. "pointing out all my flaws doesn't help. i'm fine," he bites out. standing, duke pushes out of the circle his brothers have formed around him, not looking steph or cass in the eyes as he storms past them. slamming the door to his room, duke basically falls into his bed, clutching his soft pillows close to his body. his phone buzzes with an instagram notification from you. you've just posted a new dump of pictures of you and duke. "shoutout to my favorite person and my best friend @duke_thomas_wayne!" he swipes through the post, photo after photo, reading through the comments when he's done. everybody thinks you're a couple. that's all that duke wants. yelling out in frustration, he throws his phone across the room. "why don't you love me?" he cries, fingers gripping the roots of his hair and pulling hard. duke thomas is nothing more than a jigsaw of your creation. but that's okay with him, because you love this version of duke. so he'll change every part of himself just to make you happy, even if it ruins him.

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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

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" Drawing small doodles in each other’s notebooks, when one day your friend writes ‘I like you’ " with Eddie?

I. Love. This. And I was hoping someone would ask for this one!!

Title: Written Confession Pairing: Eddie Munson/GN!Reader Word Count: 982 (Once again, LMAO)

The library is so quiet you can hear a pin drop, the silence encouraged and endorsed by the absolutely stereotypical woman behind the desk. She’s already shushed you and Eddie twice, and you fear that if she has to do so a third time she may actually drag you out by your ears, so you’ve resorted to scrawling notes in each other’s notebooks.

You’re at the community library working on the newest campaign for Hellfire, a homebrew campaign that Eddie admitted to biting off a little more than he can chew, so he recruited your help. You’ve been friends for a while, but only grew closer over the last year, after he cornered you after the school play and convinced you to join Hellfire.

“It’s practically the same as Drama!” He pleaded, “except you can write your own script! Come on, we need a Rogue!”

Something about his puppy dog eyes and the hopeful smile he sent you, tongue poking out between his teeth earnestly, made you agree. So here you are a year later, helping him write the backstory to his big bad evil vampire man. Granted, the writing came to a grinding halt about a half hour ago. Now you’re passing your designated DnD journal back and forth adding onto the same doodle line by line.

It started off as a mountain that you tried to draw to depict the vampire’s lair, but Eddie turned the squiggly line into an angry unibrow on the villain’s face, and you both kept adding onto it from there. The giggling from that is what resulted in your first violent shush-ing.

Eddie dramatically held a finger to his lips, holding back a snicker and pretending to shush you further.

Then, when you added a cape to the paper man, an addition that Eddie clearly did not agree with, he smacked the table, his heavy metal rings clattering loudly against the wood and his hair whipping around him as he shook his head and wagged a finger at you in disapproval.

This earns you another shush, and you giggle, whispering, “what? Capes are cool!”

Passing the book back and forth again, you scoot your chair closer to Eddie’s so you can both hunch over it at the same time. He flips to a new page, starting another collaborative doodle. You lean into each other, shaking with silent laughter at each new line or squiggle, and soon enough, your head is resting on his shoulder as you watch him color in the…pirate hat? Sure, the pirate hat on this current drawing.

He holds out the pencil to you, and you take it with a smile, unsure of what to add to the piece. You decide to write a message instead.

I like this…

Passing it back, you can practically hear the sarcasm in his voice when he writes out his own and draws an arrow pointing to the pirate.

yeah - hes a pretty cool dude

You roll your eyes and lift your head to look at him, scrunching your nose and shaking your head. He hasn’t offered the pencil back yet, so you reach out to pluck it from his fingers. He holds his hands up in defense, then motions to the paper with a ‘by all means…’ gesture.

Sure, but he’s cooler.

Your own arrow points to Eddie.

He puts on the dramatics, puffing his chest and faking a deep bow, his tongue poking between his teeth as he smiles and you try to hold back more laughter.

But he isn’t getting the hint. To be fair, you could be more forward, and maybe deciding to admit that your feelings are a little more than ‘friendly’ in a setting where you can’t speak wasn’t the best idea on your part, but now that you’ve started you really don’t want to stop or you’ll lose the nerve.

Eddie holds his hand out for the pencil, but you shake your head and scrawl out another note, punctuated with a little heart at the end.

I like YOU, Ed. Lots.

He stares at the paper for a minute too long, and you start to get nervous. Maybe you’ve read into things wrong, maybe he hugs everyone a little too long and lays his head in your lap at Hellfire in a totally platonic way…but then again, there’s color creeping up his neck, a redness touching the tips of his ears when he tucks his hair back, and he swallows thickly as he looks at the paper. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and you smile meekly, almost apologetically, and shrug.

He smiles back. It’s soft and unsure, but there’s an excitement in his eyes and he reaches out for the pencil.

Underneath your admission he draws two little letters, his initial and your own, and draws a heart around them. He taps the paper with the eraser with a note of finality, and the smile he was holding back breaks out fully across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes and baring his teeth.

You giggle out loud this time, unable to stop the loud, “for real?” from coming out of your mouth.

“For a while now, yeah.” He nods, his hand falling to your knee and squeezing with a laugh of his own. The sound of it is music to your ears, but its far too loud in the quiet room.

The librarian appears over his shoulder, her arms crossed and foot tapping. Eddie closes the book with a slam and throws it in his backpack. “Sorry ma’am,” he says, turning up the charm and holding a hand over his heart. He stands, reaching out to take your hand and pull you up with him, “We were just leaving!” He drags you out into the cool night air by your hand, both of you spouting excited laughter and a very annoyed librarian in your wake.

#drabble #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things reader insert #eddie munson reader insert #fluff #eddie drabble

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itsnothingofinterest · 1 year

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Hey 👋🙂 how's everything going?

Can I run a ,not very solid but interesting, theory by you?

Do you think it could be a toga/twice clone who stops dabi from exploding?

Because Dabi can't die (and if he does a lot of setups in bnha will end in failure) and there's no one else who could realistically stop Dabi from trying to kill himself to end endeavor?

Nothing endeavor does can stop Dabi, not just because of his quirk but I can't really think of anything he could say that would have enough of an impact at this point.

And while shoto might get another shot, it doesn't really matter if he (somehow) manages to overpower Dabi's quirk, because shoto already gave his brother an answer, a somewhat poorly thoughtout one.

The rest of the todoroki family may be close by but they didn't seem intent to leave the shelter or try to confront Dabi themselves even if they did.

I don't know exactly how toga/twice clones could stop or convince Dabi not to explode but it could be cool for more Lov bonds content, and because it seems like no one else can do it.

Do you think so or different? Or did you have any theories?

Going good, thanks for asking. Regarding your theory, and going through the situation character by character:

Endeavor, until recently, I actually did think could get through to Touya in the brief time BNHA has left. All he’d need to do is finally put being a father over being a hero for specifically Touya’s sake; and for a while he just so happened to drag his villain-killing Dabi-rivalling coworker Hawks everywhere who could provide such an opportunity. It could’ve been as easy as Hawks tossing feathers Dabi’s way & Endeavor’s body moving before he could think in the way of the attack. Wouldn’t have to be lethal or anything, just taking the damage would speak so much to Touya. But alas, that’s now off the table. As is seemingly any other opportunity for Endeavor to save Touya, especially at the expense of his heroic duties. Under these circumstances they’re pretty solidly on opposite sides of a conflict where all Endeavor can do is “save the day” or die trying. Best he could do for Touya is apologize and try to reason with him; and this far in I don’t think words alone would be enough. What Endeavor has always needed to do is put Touya first, but he can’t under this set-up so…yeah.

While Shoto would be able to do more to stop at least the explosion; I certainly get where you’re coming from with his hurdles in actually talking Touya down, an important step in the process. A big part of why I keep harping on about a part 2 of BNHA is characters not being nearly ready to conclude their arcs; and that includes Shoto not being ready to really save his brother and talk him out of villainy. As you said; he gave all he had to say, it was insufficient and couldn’t reach Touya, and as much as I hoped otherwise when Stain appeared, nothing’s changed in him or what he would say since Dabi left for Gunga a few minutes ago. He could still save Dabi from exploding; but much like Deku saving Tomura from just AFO if he gets to UA, that alone wouldn’t really solve any of the core issues that brought us here. At most, it’d show that the kids have a bit more character than anticipated, maybe convince the villains they won’t be entirely hopeless as heroes, but be nowhere near sufficiently cover or make up for everything.

So as for Toga/Twice playing a part, I could see the potential. Like Endeavor, there’s not much they could do to stop the explosion besides try to talk him into not blowing himself up; but unlike Endeavor, I actually think they could have a shot at that. Mainly because, if either asked Dabi not to off himself, there’s no way it could be anything but a genuine decree that his life has value; where as Endeavor would have great difficulty sounding genuine saying the same thing. There are a few issues though; and the main one I see is that Toga’s entire parade seems to have been corralled somewhere far from all the innocent civilians Endeavor is leading Dabi too. Plus Toga has her own arc anyway to resolve. So I don’t know how she’d talk to Dabi on this.

As for my own theories, well maybe I just have trouble letting go of ideas but I still think Shigaraki should use the AFO quirk to save his allies; Dabi & Spinner in particular. I’m almost as short on details as you are on how Toga/Twice would save Dabi, this is also just an interesting theory I have; but if Warps somehow enter into play then Tomura would probably have an easy enough time both stopping the bomb and telling Dabi not to off himself. Boss-man’s word is law after all, but more importantly he’d sound just as genuine as Toga or Twice saying Dabi should live. Failing that though; maybe it’ll be some combination of the above. Shoto stops the explosion, Toga convinces Dabi to live, and they retreat to Tomura who gives Dabi Hyper-Regen to heal his injuries so he can fight another day, possibly after thinking through some stuff he'll need to think over after the war. And Endeavor is also there, maybe throwing out an apology, for what little it's worth. Maybe he dies too, I don’t know; he's got a few death flags of his own but either way's fine I guess.

(Oh, and just regarding the rest of the family; I'm actually not sure what part they'll play. They could try to help, but it's Shoto's story in the end so maybe they'll just play the citizens Endeavor Dabi endangers to show him going to far or whatever. Thought gut feeling; I'm not sure they'd have the easiest time talking him down anyway either.)

#ask & reply #bnha #bnha 386 #dabi #touya todoroki #toga himiko #twice #jin bubaigawara #shigaraki tomura #paranormal liberation front #PLF #shoto todoroki #enji todoroki #anti endeavor #anti hawks #my stupid long term predictions

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rosie-b · 1 year

Text

True Blue

Chapter 3: A New Normal (5263 words)

Summary: Marinette comes up with a plan to help Adrien attend public school. Meanwhile, a new akuma is on the loose...

You can read the full story below or on AO3!

It turned out that having an upside-down life was pretty much the same as having a right-side-up life, Marinette thought to herself as she selected a background for the slide show she was beginning to make.

Hawk Moth’s akumas were dangerous, evil, and more than terrifying to the human citizens of Paris. Even so, Marinette had quickly learned that she could always count on Golden Bug and Chat Grise to defeat the akuma victims and return them to their normal, decidedly un-evil selves.

True, Pharaoh and his maiden-sacrificing tendencies were concerning, but in under an hour, he’d been back to being Alix’s geeky, conspiring older brother. Stormy Weather was a fierce fighter, and her powers had the potential to be deadly, but her threat, like many other akumas’, had been undermined by Hawk Moth himself.

The villain had paused mid-battle and commanded Stormy Weather to create a talking storm cloud through which he’d demanded Golden Bug and Chat Grise’s surrender. It had been easy for Chat to find and destroy Aurore’s akumatized object while Golden Bug distracted Hawk Moth’s stormy face with a heroic rebuttal, and the heroes simultaneously won the battle and the undying support of Paris. Not what the villain had been hoping for, at all!

Besides, after Lady Wi-Fi and Mr. Pigeon’s back-to-back akumatizations, it seemed that Hawk Moth’s akumas were becoming less dangerous even as their powers grew more creative. With a little luck, maybe Golden and Chat Grise could defeat Hawk Moth during the next akuma battle and end the city’s troubles once and for all!

Marinette’s alarm went off, alerting her that she only had ten minutes until the Gorilla picked her up for school. Saving the few changes she’d made to the mostly blank slide show, Marinette slammed the lid of her new laptop closed, shoved it into her bookbag, and rushed to the mirror to check that she was presentable enough for the day. Then she went downstairs to grab a bite to eat before the Gorilla came.

“Hello, Maman!” she called cheerfully as she tripped over the third-to-last stair and caught herself on the railing.

Sabine smiled and shook her head at her daughter’s familiar clumsiness. “Good morning, Marinette,” she said as she set a plate and cup out on the table for her.

Marinette rushed over, leaning her bag against the table leg as she took the cup her mother had gotten out and poured some orange juice into it from the jug already on the table.

“You’re in even more of a rush than usual, dear,” Sabine noted as she sat down and took a sip from her own cup full of gently steaming tea. “Is there something big happening today?”

Reaching into the fruit bowl on the center of the table, Marinette snapped a banana off its bunch and started to peel it.

“No, not really,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “But do you remember what I told you about Adrien?”

“Gabriel’s son? Yes, I remember,” Sabine answered with a nod. “He wants to go to public school, but his father won’t let him.”

Marinette pointed the banana at her mother. “Right! And it’s making him miserable. Less miserable now, but it’s clear in his eyes when the other students walk by the mansion after lessons that he’d rather be out there with them than cooped up just like he always is. But not anymore!” Marinette smirked as she bit off the tip of her banana. “I foun’ a sowution,” she said in a pleased tone as she chewed the food.

Sabine shook her head in amusement. “I’d love to hear what it is when your mouth is empty.”

Marinette’s cheeks turned pink, and she quickly finished chewing and swallowed.

“Sorry, Maman, I guess I’m more excited than I thought,” she said sheepishly. Her mother’s gentle smile assured her that there was no harm done, and Marinette quickly returned to her earlier, excited babble of information.

“See, Adrien’s problem is that he thinks he has to go around M. Agreste and prove that he can go to school by himself that way. But what if all he needs is the right argument? I asked Ms. Sancoeur about it during my apprenticeship hours, and she said she was doubtful but didn’t shoot my idea down the way she would’ve if it were really impossible. Adrien’s dad obviously loves him, so all we have to do is make him see how lonely and trapped he’s making his son feel by not letting him go to regular school, prove that François-Dupont is a good place to learn at — which I can help with! — and voilà, Adrien is free to leave homeschool! All I have to do is convince Adrien that he can talk to M. Agreste about it himself and finish making the slide show. Oh no!” Marinette gasped as she looked at the clock. “I’m going to be late! I mean early, but still late! Wish me luck, Maman!”

“Good luck, dear,” Sabine said affectionately as Marinette stood up, pressed a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek, and rushed off with her bag slung over one shoulder.

Hurrying down the stairs, Marinette pulled the car door open before the Gorilla had the chance to step out of the just-parked car. He gave a surprised grunt, but quickly recovered, buckling himself in again and pulling the car away from the curb.

Marinette wiggled nervously in the back seat of the car, tapping her fingers against her leg as she watched the familiar buildings rush by outside. She stopped when she saw the Gorilla giving her a questioning look in the rearview mirror and flashed him a quick smile to show that everything was okay.

Before she knew it, the car was pulling into the Agrestes’ driveway, and Marinette quickly hopped out, dashing up the steps to the house and knocking for Nathalie to let them in.

The assistant pulled the door open with a scrutinizing look, and Marinette quickly pulled herself into a more proper pose, straightening her back and pushing a few stray hairs back from her forehead.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” Nathalie said in a toneless voice. “It’s a surprise to see you here so early.”

The corner of Marinette’s mouth twitched, unsure if it wanted to go up or down.

“I am making more of an effort to get here on time, like you requested,” she said in her best ‘adult’ voice. “Besides, why shouldn’t I be on time for school? Education is important,” she said, quoting her teachers words back at her.

The shadow of a smile flickered across Ms. Sancoeur’s face as she tilted her head in acknowledgement of her pupil’s words.

“Wisely said.”

Ms. Sancoeur stepped back to allow Marinette to enter the mansion, and the girl stepped through the door with her head held high. Though she walked to the study room a little quicker than usual, she carried herself with as much poise as she had at the door, and quickly set her backpack down at her desk before turning back to Nathalie.

“Since I’m still a little early, could I be the one to go get Adrien from his room?” she asked politely. It had been a few weeks since Stoneheart, and she could find her way through the whole mansion with ease.

Surprised, Ms. Sancoeur considered the request for a bit.

“I suppose so,” she said after a moment. “Just be sure to knock before you enter. He might not be presentable just yet.”

“Of course,” Marinette said with a grin. Adrien always got up and dressed before her, she knew, because it took him so long to finish his morning routine. He was probably stuck styling his hair out of the roguish state it fluffed itself into every night.

Taking the stairs two at a time until she tripped and nearly fell on the wide staircase, Marinette rushed up to Adrien’s room with her laptop clutched to her chest. Stopping in front of his door, she knocked loudly, bouncing on her toes as she waited impatiently.

“Adrien? It’s Marinette. Do you have any time to talk?” she called through the door.

There was a short scuffle on the other side of the door, and Adrien whispered something to himself before the noise abruptly stopped.

“Sure, Marinette! Come right in,” Adrien called back. He sounded a little nervous, probably thrown off by someone other than Nathalie greeting him in the morning.

Marinette opened the door and stepped into Adrien’s large room, taking a precursory glance around the still strange, but becoming familiar, surroundings. Adrien, who was standing by the foosball table, waved, and she walked over to him with a smile.

“Hello, Adrien! I bet you're happy to see me instead of Ms. Sancoeur for a change,” she said, and Adrien beamed at her, eyes lighting up at the sight of his friend.

“I'm always happy to see you, Marinette,” he said earnestly. “What are you doing here so early, though? I thought you were making it a habit to be fashionably late to class.”

Marinette opened her mouth before pausing, and the air gathered in her lungs rushed out in a sigh. “Was that a pun I heard from you? This early in the morning? Adrien,” she whined, desperately fighting a smile as Adrien’s grin grew.

“It was funny!” he defended himself, crossing his arms and grinning at her. “Look, you can’t even hide your smile. You know you like my jokes.”

Marinette gave up and smiled back at her friend. “Fine, I do,” she relented. She knew how important it was for someone as isolated as Adrien to be validated by their friends. “But that doesn’t mean I can condone such effortless jokes at this hour of the day. I have something more important to discuss,” she said, bringing her laptop over to the foosball table and balancing it precariously on the edge.

Suddenly concerned, Adrien backed away from the laptop. “Marinette, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

Marinette opened the laptop. “It’ll be fine,” she said dismissively. “I might be clumsy, but I’m very good at balancing things that aren’t me. Besides, I can catch it if it falls.”

She pulled up the slideshow she’d been making earlier that day, clicking presentation mode on.

“Operation: Free Buttercup?” Adrien read out loud from the screen, looking curiously at Marinette.

“We’ll retitle it, obviously. I just needed a placeholder title,” she said as she clicked to the next slide.

“Wait, who or what is Buttercup? Why do they need to be freed?”

Marinette looked up at Adrien. “Well, you’re Buttercup,” she said, as if this was obvious. “We’re using code names at this point. Once we have a convincing presentation, we’ll go back and edit them all out. You have yellow hair, like a buttercup, and M. Agreste has that striped ascot, so he’s Tiger Lily, and I used to really like tulips, so I’m Tulip. Any questions?”

Adrien wrinkled his eyebrows in that adorable model way he did sometimes. “Can I please have a different code name?”

Marinette grinned evilly. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head and letting go of the laptop. Adrien’s eyes bugged out as he watched for it to fall, but the laptop remained balanced on the foosball table. “If a flower name is too girly for you, then you need a new perspective. Everyone deserves to have a flower name, if they want.”

“And if they don’t want one?” Adrien asked, his eyes still glued to the laptop.

“Then they should have come up with the slideshow on their own. Beggars can’t be choosers, Buttercup.” Marinette dismissed Adrien’s concerns and turned back to the laptop, which was open to a blank slide.

“This is going to be a picture of François-Dupont eventually. I couldn’t find any good ones this morning, though. Next slide!”

Marinette hit the spacebar with such enthusiasm that Adrien’s heart sank as he accepted the eventual death of the laptop. If Marinette was going to keep being so risky with it, there was no way around its demise.

Plan A: Sneaking out to school, the slide show read in oversized letters.

“This plan didn’t work so well,” Marinette said. “But that doesn’t mean no plan will. I asked Ms. Sancoeur about it, and she feels cautiously optimistic about our odds in convincing your father to let you go to public school.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Really?!” he gasped. “She said that?”

“Not in those words,” Marinette said with a mysterious smile. “But yes, she didn’t say it’s impossible. Plan B!”

She hit the spacebar again, sending trembles through Adrien and the laptop.

“We talk to your father directly instead of trying to sneak around the problem. Not that I'm saying your last plan was indirect, of course! Just that, this is more direct,” Marinette said, waving her hands in the air. She looked mildly panicked now, though she’d started speaking confidently.

Adrien sighed. “It’s okay, Marinette. I understand where you’re going with this. I’d love to speak with my father directly, but... well, you know, Marinette. He’s never listened to me before. Why should he start now?”

Marinette looked at Adrien with a pitying gaze. “Because he loves you, doesn’t he? Every father wants the best for their child. Maybe he is busy, but he still has some time to talk. He just usually spends it telling me what I’ll be doing to train as an apprentice,” she said with a trace of guilt.

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying we should try to convince him while he’s giving you your schedule after school? Won’t that be kind of annoying to him?”

Marinette grimaced. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But that’s just about the only time either of us see him. I’m pretty sure Nathalie could give me my schedule instead, and you could stay behind with M— with your father to convince him.”

“But what if he doesn’t listen to me? What if I forget what I was going to say to him, or he doesn’t want to listen to me and throws us out of his office?”

“That’s why we’re making this slide show,” Marinette said, waving a finger in the air. “Even if he refuses to hear us out, we can email our argument to him. He has to look at it sometime.”

Glancing at the time on his phone, Adrien gulped. “That might work, but Marinette — or should I say Tulip? — we don’t have enough time to make a whole slide show before class. Really, we need to get downstairs now, or Nathalie is going to be mad at us and tell Father!”

Pulling out her own phone, Marinette, too, looked at the time. “Ah,” she said understandingly. “That’s okay, too. We’re going to do this over lunch! We can eat here, in your room, and finish the slide show before the end of the day. I know the first few slides aren't helpful right now, and the whole thing needs a better title, and then there are the code names, but I do have a lot of evidence gathered already. We can do this together, Adrien! I won’t let you stay trapped in homeschool just because you have one friend with you now. You deserve more than that, Adrien! And I want you to be happy! Now, come on,” she said, not noticing the awestruck look on Adrien’s face as she grabbed his hand and closed the laptop with her elbow. “You were right, we still have to get to class on time.”

__*__*__*__*__

Morning classes were interrupted by one akuma, who was still on the loose when Golden Bug and Chat Grise lost them and gave up.

Marinette supposed it didn’t make sense for the heroes to waste their energy on a wild goose chase, but she hoped they would find the akuma before it had the chance to hurt anyone, because this akuma seemed more dangerous than the last two.

The limited footage from the Golden Blog had shown a black blur running through François-Dupont, conjuring items out of thin air and trapping the heroes, as well as Alya, the Goldenblogger, under a heavy table that literally weighed a ton before leaving the building. Chat Grise called for her Cataclysm in a quiet, defeated voice, and Golden Bug reset the damage to the building with his miraculous cure. Then the two heroes had to go, and the footage stopped, leaving Marinette and the other citizens to wonder when the battle would start again.

Or maybe the akuma de-akumatized themself, Marinette thought hopefully. No one had done anything like that before, but that didn’t mean it was impossible.

Marinette’s leg jittered nervously, making her chair squeak each time she moved, and Adrien looked up from the table at her to offer a gentle smile.

"Sorry, I'm just worried about the akuma again," she whispered to him apologetically.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he said — even though they were in class, there was no use whispering while Nathalie was the only other person in the study room with them and could hear every sound they made. “I’m sure Chat Grise and Golden Bug will find the akuma as soon as they can.”

Marinette groaned as she set her pencil down on top of the worksheet she had to complete before lunch.

“I know,” she said. “But I can’t help but feel like this time is different. I was really hoping they’d be able to defeat Hawk Moth and his stupid butterflies once and for all today, but it feels like maybe they’re going to lose, instead!”

Adrien winced and opened his mouth to reply, but Nathalie answered her first.

“If the heroes lose to an akuma that they aren't even actively fighting, that would be quite the feat,” she said. “I’m fairly sure that for now, Golden Bug and Chat Grise are safe. You have nothing to worry about, Marinette. Now, finish your worksheet and then you can head to lunch.”

Marinette smiled gratefully at Ms. Sancoeur. “Thank you,” she said. “I guess it was just a silly fear, after all.”

Adrien frowned as he wrote something down at the bottom of his worksheet. The right answer, probably. He was really good at finding those, Marinette thought jealously.

She struggled through the last two math problems and laid her pencil down on the table.

“Done!” she called cheerfully.

Ms. Sancoeur walked over to check her answers.

“The third answer should be negative,” she said. “The multiplication inside the parentheses doesn’t eliminate the negative sign outside of them.”

Marinette drooped in her chair as Adrien gave her a sympathetic look from the other side of the room, where he was standing by the door.

“But your work overall is still good enough. You are free to go to lunch, Marinette. I believe Adrien told me that you wish to eat in his room rather than at the dining table, correct?”

Marinette nodded, looking cautiously hopeful.

“Very well. It should be delivered in ten minutes. Bon déjeuner.” Nathalie walked out of the room, gripping her tablet tightly in her hands as she walked in the direction of the atelier.

Grabbing her phone and laptop from her bag with a smile, Marinette walked over to Adrien.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Adrien smiled and gestured towards the door. “After you, dear Tulip,” he said.

Marinette rolled her eyes as she walked past.

“Did you have any ideas for what you wanted the presentation to say during your makeup emergency this morning?” Marinette asked as they walked up the stairs to his room together.

Adrien winced. “Not really,” he said, raising a hand to adjust the hair in front of his ears. It just barely hid them from view, and how he was comfortable like that, Marinette wasn’t sure. But he’d never said anything about not liking the hairstyle, so maybe it was his idea.

“That’s okay,” Marinette said as they reached Adrien’s room and he reached out to open the door. “Just tell me if you disagree with anything on the slide show or if it’s making you uncomfortable. There's always another way to get your father to let you attend school.”

“I don’t know about that,” Adrien said with a laugh as he led Marinette over to the white couch facing his huge windows. “But I’m sure I’ll like whatever you have so far. Except for the code names,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh, hush, you,” Marinette said. “Would you rather I come up with some other ones? I’m kind of an apprentice, so I could go with that. The Apprentice. Your father gets to be Candy Cane, and you... hm. Would you prefer Golden Boy or Rapunzel?”

Adrien stared wide-eyed at Marinette. “Golden Boy?” he asked, his voice nearly two octaves above where it usually was.

Marinette frowned. “Yeah, does it not make sense? You’re still just my age, but you’ve already accomplished so much already. It should strengthen our case, honestly.”

Adrien nodded absently. “Yeah, yeah, but don’t you think it sounds a little too... like a certain yellow hero’s name?”

Marinette gasped. “You’re right!” she shrieked. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice before.”

Adrien stared warily at her, looking like he might bolt at the next words out of her mouth.

“The heroes are on my mind so much today, I guess it affected my code name choices,” Marinette laughed. “I really hope Golden Bug and Chat Grise are taking care of that akuma.”

Adrien laughed awkwardly, eyes darting away guiltily. “Yeah, that would probably be the smart thing to do,” he said, and gulped hard.

Marinette shrugged.

“I guess. It’s not our responsibility, though, so back to the slide show! I added—”

Just then, a black- and white-suited akuma leapt through the window — which was now just a hole in the wall, having been erased by the Evillustrator’s powers — and landed in front of the sofa Marinette and Adrien were sitting on.

“Marinette!” Nathaniel called out in a familiar voice. Marinette gasped. So that’s who the akuma was this morning, she realized.

The concerned tone he used, and the way he looked at Marinette with wide, almost-frightened eyes made it seem as if Marinette was being saved by the akuma rather than having her plans interrupted by one.

But he was an akuma, now. There was no way he was still the polite Nathaniel she was used to. And he was targeting Marinette!

Oh, no, Marinette thought as Adrien gasped and threw himself in front of her, blocking her view of the akuma. She’d heard that some akumas targeted other people, but until now, she’d never thought she would be one of those akumas’ victims.

But if Nathaniel, or whatever his akuma name was, was targeting her, then he probably had a good reason. Nathaniel was one of the only people who was nice to Marinette last year, and though some of it could have been the fact that he wasn’t in class with Marinette and Chloe, Marinette had begun to see Nathaniel as a kind person, one who would never lash out without reason.

“Adrien, move out of the way,” Marinette demanded, scooting past him on the sofa so that she could stand up and face Nathaniel. “I need to talk to him!”

“Marinette, no!” Adrien cried.

As Marinette pushed herself off of the couch and stood up on shaky legs, the Evillustrator smiled, in relief, it seemed to her.

“It’s so good to see you again, Marinette,” Nathaniel’s sweet voice greeted her ear. “School’s been nothing but awful without you there.”

Marinette twitched, and she felt herself beginning to frown sadly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Nathaniel. Is that why you were akumatized? You can fight it off, you know! I believe in you!”

Moving to be beside Marinette, Adrien threw his arms around her protectively and scowled at the Evillustrator.

Nathaniel scowled back at Adrien, while Marinette patted his head reassuringly and tried to smile in Nathaniel’s direction.

“There isn’t anything to fight, Marinette. Hawk Moth isn’t controlling me right now. But yes, I suppose you could say that school is why I got akumatized. Or more specifically, Chloe is,” he spat out, and his blue eyes flashed dangerously.

Adrien’s arms tightened around Marinette.

“Let go of me,” she hissed at him.

Adrien pouted down at Marinette. “No,” he said with a huff. “I won’t stop protecting you, not until Mr. Evil Artist leaves you alone. What do you even want, anyway?” he asked the Evillustrator.

Nathaniel grinned and drew something on the tablet attached to his right arm. A red rose appeared in the air, and Marinette felt Adrien stiffen around her.

“I came here because as petty as she is, Chloe reminded me of something important today,” he said in a shy voice.

“No,” Adrien growled. The Evillustrator shot a pitying glance at him.

“She reminded me that without action, none of my dreams have the chance to become reality. And for the longest time, Marinette... my biggest dream has been to be with you.”

Nathaniel offered the rose to Marinette with a flourish, and she felt her face burn scarlet.

“Me?” she squeaked, fingers twitching as she reached out uncertainly for the rose.

Adrien grabbed it before she could.

“No, Marinette, it’s probably poisoned!” he cried as he threw it towards the open window area. It landed two feet away, on the floor.

Marinette turned a frosty gaze on Adrien, making the boy cower in front of her.

“Then you would be dead now,” she said, untangling herself from Adrien’s arms. He squawked in protest. “That wasn’t very helpful of you to do, Adrien.”

Outside the window, a thin black pole with a person clinging to it rose into view, and soon Chat Grise was stepping into the room.

“Evillustrator,” she hissed, and her thin belt-tail lashed behind her. “What are you doing to Marinette?” Her voice was quiet, as it always was in the Goldenblog’s videos, but it carried a chilling power in it.

“Not now, Chat Grise!” the Evillustrator growled in exasperation. “It’d bad enough that I have to deal with this boy! Both of you, take a hike!”

He started drawing frantically on his tablet, and a mountain rose from the floor and stretched up through the ceiling, separating Marinette and the Evillustrator from Adrien and Chat Grise.

Marinette gasped. “Nathaniel!”

“It’s the Evillustrator!” he snapped back, a violet shadow appearing around his eyes. As quickly as it appeared, though, the shadow disappeared, and a remorseful look entered Nathaniel’s eyes.

“Sorry, Marinette,” he said in a subdued tone. “I guess Hawk Moth still has some control over me, after all.”

Shoulders drooping, Marinette sighed and looked down.

"So it seems," she said sadly. "Does that mean I should forget about the rose you were offering me?"

Suddenly perking up, the Evillustrator started drawing on his tablet again.

"Not at all, Marinette," he said, hope coloring his voice. "I just thought, with how that other boy was clinging to you, that maybe I was already too late."

He offered a new rose to Marinette, this one red with shimmering gold tips.

Marinette gasped at the sight. "Nathaniel! This is beautiful," she said. Accepting the rose from the Evillustrator, she ran a finger gently over its petals and brought it to her nose to sniff its fragrance.

"I've had a crush on you for nearly a year now," Nathaniel said shyly. "I might've... taken to sketching you whenever I felt down. Chloe found my sketchbook and teased me about it in front of the whole class. There's a new girl in class this year," he continued, watching Marinette toy with the rose. "Alya Cesaire. You might know her from the Goldenblog."

The violet shadow appeared over Nathaniel's eyes again, and he grimaced before shaking it off.

"She's been helpful in weakening Chloe's power over us, but this time the teasing was just the final straw. It was already a hard day for me, because no one seemed to care about me enough to remember—"

"It's your birthday today," Marinette finished fo him, looking up with a gasp. "I knew today was special somehow. I'm so sorry, Nathaniel! Nobody deserves to have their birthday forgotten."

"Thank you, Marinette," Nathaniel said with a small smile. "I knew I could count on you to care about me, even when no one else did."

Marinette froze, hand still caressing the rose's petals. "I do care about you, Nathaniel," she said slowly. "And I want you to be able to celebrate your birthday the way you should. I'll tell you what," she said, speaking around the lump that was growing in her throat at the thought of the plan she'd come up with. "If I go on a date with you, will you promise that you won't listen to Hawk Moth or hurt anyone while the date lasts?"

Nathaniel beamed. "Marinette, that's exactly what I wanted! I promise," he said with a wide smile.

Marinette barely had enough time to smile back before he scooped her up in his arms, princess-style. Suddenly nervous, Marinette threw her arms around the Evillustrator's neck so that she wouldn't overbalance and fall.

"Wait!" she cried, and the Evillustrator looked down at her in surprise.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You have to un-make the mountain," she pleaded. "It's so steep; what if Adrien falls off of it?"

"Worse, what if Chat Grise sees that we're leaving and follows us?" the Evillustrator growled.

Marinette looked up at him in fear. He sighed and turned away from her to look at the mountain he'd created in the room.

"Fine, I'll erase the mountain. But first..."

He drew something, the outline of a cloak, on his tablet, and Marinette watched as he finished drawing, transferring the cloak to the real world and creating a faint shimmer around them.

"Don't make a sound," he whispered. Then he erased the mountain out of Adrien's room, leaving two confused, out-of-breath people to fall down a few feet and land with an oomph on the floor.

Before Adrien, who looked more than a little irritated, and Chat Grise, who was only slightly less frustrated, could figure out what was happening or detect the faint shimmer from the invisibility cloak the Evillustrator had made, Nathaniel drew an invisible chariot drawn by Pegasusses and climbed into it with Marinette. The horses flew them away from the scene as Chat Grise asked if Adrien had seen where the Evillustrator went, and Marinette cowered against the sides of the chariot, away from Nathaniel.

"Did you have to do that?" she asked.

The Evillustrator looked down at her seriously. "The heroes can't find where we are, or they'll take away my powers," he explained. "Hawk Moth isn't all bad, Marinette. I used to think his akumas were evil, but look at me! Do I seem evil to you?"

Marinette studied Nathaniel, his new suit, red hair, and gentle expression. It's in your name, Evillustrator, she imagined Adrien saying, poking fun at the akuma, finding the humor in the situation like he always did. But Adrien wasn't there.

Swallowing, Marinette decided to answer Nathaniel seriously. "You don't seem very evil at all," she whispered. "But Hawk Moth hasn't been controlling you yet, has he?"

The Evillustrator grinned as the invisible chariot touched down by the Seine.

"No, Marinette," he said as a purple shadow formed around his eyes, growing darker by the second. "He's not controlling me at all."

#bluewing au #ml fanfic #rosie-b writing #adrinette #evillustrator #kwami swap #ml au #ml leak free #miraculeakless #miraculous ladybug

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