【 Thank you for choosing the Golden Peacock, 5-star resort and casino. You are currently registered as a WILDCARD in our system.
It has recently come to our attention that many of our guests have not been focusing on their health and wellness. In an effort to encourage healthy living and help our beloved guests get in shape, a grand sports festival will be held in the Golden Peacock. This sports festival will include many small games and four large games.
Prior to the festival, guests will have the opportunity to train and prepare for the games with our expert coaches.
We hope you are as excited as we are! And, as always, we hope you enjoy your stay. 】
BEAK
MEET THE TEAM
♦ DIAMONDS GAME ♦
OMEGADOME: HUNTING GAME
A cheerful pair of game managers stand outside the conservatory doors and block all guests that try to enter. They quickly explain that a special Diamonds game is taking place inside and only guests that agree to participate may enter. This game is a physical exercise that riffs on "Hunting", which is a popular sport in many different countries and civilizations. Of course, it is one hundred percent safe, and all guests that play are eligible to win massive chip prizes, store vouchers, fabulous prizes, and more.
Details about the game? Those can't be shared outside of the conservatory. Only the brave and those willing to risks will reap the benefits of this Diamonds game. So step right up, dear guests, and sign this waiver before stepping into the flourishing beauty of the conservatory for a brand new adventure.
♥ HEARTS GAME ♥
DOUBLES' THERMO: SURVIVAL GAME
Chickadees is sparing no expense on advertising their e-sport games over the course of the sports festival. Posters, notifications, stickers, fliers! Come one, come all. Sports don't need to be physical. Guests that duck into the arcade will find a variety of e-sport games to enjoy, but the real showstopper that every single employee is aggressively promoting is the new immersive VR game, DOUBLES' THERMO.
A large swath of egg-shaped pods have been installed in the back half of Chickadees. Any guest that shows an iota of interest will be assaulted by employees encouraging them to give it a try. They will offer vouchers for a free session, encourage with mentions of prizes that can be won from the arcade's coveted prize wall, and persuade by praising how high tech and immersive the experience is. Some employees are desperate enough to trick or push guests into the pods if they aren't willing to go in themselves.
However they've ended up inside the VR egg, guests will find themselves submerged in strange fluid as the lid closes. Everything fades away into darkness as the game loads...
♣ CLUBS GAME ♣
QUACK AND COVER: SHOOTING GAME
Cloaca & Dagger has temporarily outfitted itself as a neon-bright paintball course. Gone are the wild sex setups in exchange for series of obstacles and obstructions for guests to navigate while in pursuit of paintball championship. This high intensity game of strategy and physical fitness promises to exhilarate! Welcome to Quack and Cover, a game where your shooting skills and ingenuity will be put to the test.
So say the game managers at the door before following up with a few disclaimers. Cloaca & Dagger is not responsible for any physical or psychological trauma guests may incur while inside. Guests that join the game will then be outfitted in tight black underarmor and supplied with a paintball gun and protective mask before being let loose on the course.
♠ SPADES GAME ♠
PECKING ORDER: MMA GAME
During night hours, many long-standing guests make their way through Talon toward the gym’s creaky basement stairs. Three floors down and then through a desolate hallway with littered with abandoned equipment. Double doors wait at the end, unassuming until they’ve been opened…
Flashing lights, jeers, and the thick odor of sweat. You’ve found the Pecking Order, a late-night mixed martial arts event where guests show their prowess in the ring. Spectating guests shout and messily eat snacks on make-shift bleachers while fighters clash inches away, using only their bodies to fight for dominance and win. Pecking Order is very informal; guests only need to sign up in order to get added to the docket. Anyone can watch, though they will be vaguely warned at the door that even spectating comes with risks.
LOCKER ROOMS
YOU WASH MY BACK, I'LL WASH YOURS
Every training and game location has a door labeled LOCKER ROOM right outside the entrance. These doors all connect to the same massive locker room. The magic of these locker room doors goes one way. Trying to go back to the place you just were by backtracking will not work — you’ll just end up in Beak! All guests will be advised to finish their games before hitting the showers.
The Golden Peacock is proud to present our upgraded and extended locker room. Please come in and enjoy the facilities, catch-up with your teammates, and enjoy some healthy drinks provided by our favorite resort convenience store, Cock-a-doodle-doo’s!
▶ All characters on the TDM are WILDCARDS, which means they have not yet been assigned a card value. Suits will not manifest until characters are accepted into the game.
▶ All TDMs are game canon. This TDM acts as the game's March event.
▶ Current characters may top level on the TDM. Any current characters posting to the TDM should note they are current in their subject header.
▶ The top level directory is for new characters only. We want to make sure new characters are prioritized and receive attention! If you would be interested in a game invitation, you can note that in your comment header.
▶ If you aren't satisfied with these prompts, please feel free to check out our LOCATIONS to explore more of the resort!
▶ Smut threads that take place on this TDM can be used for rewards. If both parties in the smut thread join the game, you may retroactively apply the character's initial card values to your 52 bank. If one character does not join the game the thread will not be applicable toward rewards (as that character would not have a card value). The character that does join would still receive a small payout for the encounter. Hopefully it was a fun thread regardless!
▶ We ask you to kindly add content warnings to your threads as appropriate.
▶ If you do not currently have permissions and kinks listed in your character’s journal we suggest leaving a note in your top level of any limits or boundaries for other players to reference.
[. . . for some reason, Akira hadn't expected Bakugou to be quite so. . . gentle and attentive. he doesn't know why; Bakugou is a great listener and a good friend, so why shouldn't those traits translate well in intimate situations? maybe it's the rough-and-tumble exterior. maybe it's the way he is quick to anger and (insincere) death threats. whatever the reason, this is completely new side of the hero for Akira. and. . .]
[. . . and he honestly doesn't mind it]
[that purr turns into a pleased hum as he cracks one eye open, gaze heavy and lidded, irises dark underneath the shadow of his lashes. his lips curve into a grin, only slightly sharp around the edges, considering how bonelessly content he feels in the moment. his fingers begin to move, seeking out the raised edges of scarred skin, tracing the shapes he can find with attentive reverence]
[he could say something-- he should say something-- but for some reason, he feels like words would just ruin the moment]
[gee, whatever reason could that be? the guy who yells curses and threatens death while slamming his hands into exploding fists as his volatile temper ignites over the littlest provocation, turns out to be capable of detailed and careful work with his hands. and does so in more intimate settings. Bakugo normally has people surprised at his "softer" work, shocked he's skilled and intelligent when his normal attitude is such a delinquent brute.
but considering how thorough and efficient he is, why wouldn't he want to put the same 100% energy into washing someone's hair? they're giving him their head to treat, putting it in his hands, and he'll do his damnest to give them the utmost best! pride's a bitch.
Akira's a purring, humming cat and he wonders for a few seconds what that would feel like pressed against him. vibrating body, rumbling throat, tiny tremors through his arms and legs. he meets those dark irises, shadowed under his lashes and currently clear of the normal curly veil of bangs. and smooths all that mass right backwards over his head, forming a slicked sculpture.
a low exhale and tiny shudder are the first indications there's something sensitive about the scar on his chest, particularly towards the center of it. his body never did decide permanently what kind of sensitivity reaction they'd have, so it's always a toss up when someone touches his scars.]
[a curious noise interrupts Akira's thoughts, and he opens his eyes fully as his gaze flickers down towards that jagged shape cut across Bakugou's chest. honestly. . . it's actually quite stunning. is it weird to think that? to wholeheartedly believes that scars like this are beautiful? to him, it's a magnificent homage to whatever hardships that Bakugou had managed to survive. . . a marking worthy of attention and admiration, to prove that pain and suffering don't make anyone less worthy]
[. . .]
[his fingers dip closer towards the center, though. . . he's starting to think that his hands aren't nearly enough]
[a large burst radiating from the center of his chest, torn open as if something exploded from the inside out. slightly raised scar tissue around the edges, smooth throughout most of its breadth, with a nigh-imperceptible line in the middle. where the sutures held it together at the very end. quite the injury. would Akira believe him if he said he was basically dead because of it?
no less noticeable than the ones on his shoulder and lower side, and cheek. four marks of his strength and survival. four marks branding on his body the lengths he went to as a hero.
his hands slow slightly when Akira begins to inch his fingers towards the nucleus.]
[. . . yes, actually. he absolutely would. Akira is no stranger to scars himself, but all of his pale in comparison to these]
Mm. . .
[he stops when his hand reaches the center of the healed-over injury, once again pressing his palm flat against smooth skin, fingers stretched towards the raised edges. after another moment of hesitation, he takes a step closer, further into Bakugou's personal space, close enough that he can feel the warmth of his companion's body in addition to that of the shower steam]
[guess he'll get his chance to learn about it pretty quickly. Bakugo exhales in a strange way, as if he'd been holding his breath before Akira finally settles his hand over the center of his scar. never quite knows how it's going to react to touching. shit changes the sensitivity and damaged-but-recovered nerves. temperature, humidity, preparation.
as Akira steps forward, Bakugo moves to pivot them and bring the other boy into the shower's spray. time to rinse him off while they're talking. he alternates between scuffing his fingers through his hair or combing over the surface as water cascades down. suds slough and drag over muscle and skin before splattering around their feet.]
During the second war, one of the villains' bosses landed a punch right there. The impact blew my heart and lungs apart.
[There was also some funny business involving his own explosive sweat backing up in his overtaxed sweat glands and somehow being forced into his bloodstream to seek for another way out of his body, thus being inside his heart and chest area when the punch landed, but... my jury's a bit still out on that. I mean, it's canon, but... wtf.]
[HELLO?? the world shifts so suddenly when Bakugou pivots him underneath the shower head that Akira swallows a muffled noise of surprise, head bowed as water washes away the cloud of suds that had consumed his hair, leaving his black curls completely soaked. his hand remains resting against the marred skin of Bakugou's chest; the other instinctively grabs at his companion's shoulder, fingers digging into skin as he steadies himself. warn a guy next time!1]
[which is exactly the playfully petulant complaint he'd make if what the other teen said next hadn't completely thrown him]
-- what?
[it may be somewhat comical, the way Akira stares, eyes wide and hair so damp that he looks a bit like a drowned rat]
[did he think he'd be sitting here with shampoo in his hair forever? Bakugo twitches his head back slightly, not wanting to get a bunch of soapy splashback thrown into his face. bleh. he gives a few more ruffles, then lets the shower drag Akira's hair down into whatever mess it wants to give him. thanks for not grabbing onto the scar on his chest, man. luckily it's not the blonde's scarred shoulder, though his shoulder and side scars aren't as occasionally troublesome like the one on his chest.
guess the stunned shock is on the other side now, with Akira's "huh?" expression mirroring Bakugo's when his friend mentioned what and how he stole back home. at least he hadn't looked like a drowned rat in the bookstore.]
My mentor and senpai did their damnest to keep me alive and repair the damage. They let me live.
[the way his voice goes softer, quieter, indicates a rare show of genuine respect for the men he mentions.]
[. . . Akira exhales deeply, relief settling on his shoulders, allowing his entire body to slump as the surprised tension vanishes. that's good. . . that's good, but he can't help but wonder. . .]
How. . .?
[if a man loses his heart and lungs, that's certain death, isn't it? there's no coming back from that. at least. . . that's how things work where Akira comes from]
Denim Head can control fibers with his Quirk, and Edgeshot's Quirk lets him fold his body as thin as a hair. Jeanist did external suturing, but Edgeshot used his Quirk to repair my organs using his own body as the organic material.
[folding himself into a biological needle and thread while serving as Bakugo's heart to perform internal CRP as he stitched together his bones and threaded his organs back into shape. as hard as it is to believe, Edgeshot used over 95% of his own organic mass to become Bakugo's heart, lungs, and everything else... at the moment Bakugo's "current" time is, when he was kidnapped here, the other hero's been left as basically a finger-sized sperm shape. just a head and body/tail. conscious, mobile, vocal, but... yeah.
Bakugo also relays those details in a curt, but efficient summary.]
. . . so that guy-- Edgeshot, was it?-- his body is now permanently a part of yours.
[Akira reiterates, voice quiet, just to make sure he is understanding properly. he can't blame Bakugou for the short but efficient explanation. from Akira's point of view, someone literally gave up their life to save Bakugou's, and that. . . is a lot to deal with]
[. . .]
[Akira exhales deeply, gaze dipping downward to stare at the scar on Bakugou's chest with new understanding]
[welcome to quirks. you're going wtf? to a guy who sweats nitroglycerine from his palms.]
Aa. He let me live.
[Bakugo isn't going to downplay that. thankfully it's not some Quirk vestige where Edgeshot's consciousness floats around in his head or pops out of his body to ask him what's for breakfast.]
He was willing to give up everything, but Jeanist had done enough work he didn't need to sacrifice everything.
[so Edgeshot also got to live on.]
Kinda. But if my life was worth saving, then I'm gonna live the best fucking life I can so everything he did for me will be worth it and more.
[and being stuck in this shithole definitely isn't honoring Edgeshot's sacrifice, buuut... since "his" world's not even moving, guess it's a moot point.]
[SOMEHOW SWEATING NITROGLYCERINE MAKES MORE SENSE THAN A GUY BECOMING SUTURES???]
[. . . it's good to hear that Bakugou's friend didn't need to sacrifice everything to save his life, but still. . . Akira can't even imagine how he'd feel if someone gave up that much to rescue him. he'd probably never get over the guilt. hm. maybe that's something he should examine one day. how strange it feels to imagine someone caring about him that much]
[at any rate, Bakugou seems to be handling it much better, and Akira finally smiles]
I think that's the best way to repay him.
[. . . reluctantly, Akira glides his hand away from that scar, allowing fingers to trail further up Bakugou's chest, across his collarbone, and back to his neck. there, Akira rests his palm at the juncture of jaw and cheek, like he's gently cradling Bakugou's face in his hand]
it's a hard feeling. as a hero, Bakugo places the responsibility on himself to carry his life even more importantly moving forward. someone else thought so highly of him he was willing to die to ensure Bakugo lived. he can't throw his life away or waste it, because it's no longer "only" his life. even if it's naught more than flesh and bone, Edgeshot became part of him, and it's his duty to make sure the other hero's sacrifice wasn't in vain. continuing to be the greatest hero possible honors that decision. because if he does anything else, the guilt and shame will consume him completely.
Akira met Bakugo after he had about six months or more to recover, along with the hotel's magical accelerated healing. can't encourage someone to fuck around when his heart and lungs are barely recovered from being assploded.]
No shit. [he didn't mean to warn Akira off the scar, but guesses it'd be a bit odd to go fondling something with such a history. for a little while at least. Bakugo arches a brow when the other teen rests his hand on his jaw, thumb across his cheek. such a tender gesture... with some sassy sweet words.] Tch. Just noticing that now?
[. . . and Akira has hardly been dissuaded from paying proper attention to that scar. if anything, knowing the significance of that wound just makes him want to explore it even more. he'll come back to it in a bit; for now, he keeps his hand pressed against the side of Bakugou's face, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace sharp cheekbones as he grins]
Nope. Noticed it before. Just thought I'd say something about it now.
[there's a kid whose head's literally a comic book speech bubble.
dammit. Akira's bouncing around between serious, weirdly tender, flirty, and something else, leaving Bakugo momentarily unsure how to react. jaw a bit tense, face warming despite himself, eyes jumping from the thief's eyes to lips to hair to cheek to eyes again. that stupid thumb going caress caress right below his eyelid isn't helping things either! half his head tempts a tilt and nuzzle, half jabs a proverbial heel in the ground out of pride.]
Dammit, you're too fucking slow. [saying that to Akira or himself? who knows! Bakugo abruptly leans forward and kisses Akira, a firm, warm touch with just the right amount of cant so they don't ram noses or click teeth.
[the way Akira immediately melts makes it clear that he has been thinking about this for far too long. too fucking slow indeed. . . there were probably a million other times during this conversation that he could have closed the distance between them to make good on the promise to mess around. but. . . he can't say he regrets putting it off, if it gave him the chance to learn more about his companion. his. . . friend]
[but now that lips have met, something snaps, and Akira returns that kiss with eager hunger as his hand slides from Bakugou's cheek to the back of his neck. he grins, muttering a quiet but amused-- sorry, sorry-- against the kiss. his bad!! he just got distracted. . .]
[don't "oh, finally" him! if you wanted to do it, fucking do it! shy prick. Bakugo could fall into the same category, but ha! he refuses since he did it first. fingers brush and skim across Akira's arm, following the line of his forearm, slipping the crux of his elbow, over a toned bicep, across his shoulder and around to the back of his head, where he can bury his digits into soaking black curls and hold Akira in their kiss.
kissing him. it feels... good. completely unique. tracing his lips' contours, how his cupid's bow dips in the center, lower lip's plusher than his upper, and a sudden surge forward answers his own hunger. a hand on his nape earns a low groan as Bakugo presses into the kiss, tilting his head the other way to deepen it and change their angle. fine, he'll distract him anew!]
[ah. . . yes, that groan cuts right through him, settling nice and warm in the pit of his stomach, where embers slowly begin to spark to life. he drinks it in like a man dying of thirst, fingers digging slightly into the muscles at the nape of Bakugou's neck in a gentle massage. this is also a nice distraction. another way to bond, to deepen a slowly budding friendship. a way that Akira certainly wouldn't have considered anywhere outside of the resort]
[Bakugou deepens the kiss, and Akira follows suit, mouth parting to invite his companion deeper. and in the same motion, he steps forward, free hand planted against his partner's chest to slowly push him backwards, until he bumps up against the cool tiles of the shower wall]
[nerves spark and flare to life under Akira's fingers, sizzling up the nape of his neck as his skin suddenly feels two sizes too small. heat on his face, a low groan rumbling in his throat as he presses into the kiss with the urge for more crawling around behind his lips. distraction? yeah, from everything else in this damn place. Akira's worth his entire focus, in a way Bakugo had hardly thought of before being abducted by a sex-happy bird god thing. far too intent on school and heroics to think of what to do on a date or how it'd feel to touch another guy in a shower's downpour.
an open invitation taken and he steps forward, bringing their bodies flush together even as Akira guides him backwards. legs slide past each other, a few brushing steps intertwined, before his back hits the wall and one hand manages to grab the shower head along the way to twist it towards them. barely gets above Akira's shoulder blades now, but it's better than making out as the wet wall behind him grows colder in the steam.]
[Akira's life has been anything but ordinary. . . but even amidst his supernatural adventures, he still managed to find the time to just be. . . normal. he had his fair share of crushes and daydreamy fantasies, mind meandering as he stared idly out of his classroom window. intimacy and relationships were always things he was interested in exploring, and while he absolutely loathes the way their current haunted prison approaches the topic, he has long since decided to make it work for him. it gives him a bit more agency, a bit more control, in a place that is so determined to take it away from him]
[. . . so Akira has considered what it might be like to touch, to kiss, to press himself up against someone else while enveloped in the warm steam of a hot shower. but honestly? every encounter he has had thus far while trapped in the Golden Peacock's walls has been way better than anything his curious-yet-inexperienced imagination could conjure up. and this? is no different]
[it's electric, the way their legs brush against one another as he shoves Bakugou back. it's so freakin' thrilling, the moment he feels the resistance of the shower wall, his palm laying flat against damp musces even as he moves forward to hook his ankle around Bakugou's, to keep them flush with as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. his lips curve into a pleased grin against that kiss before he dives right back into it, catching his companion's lower lip between his teeth in a sharp, playful nip]
[he mutters, voice low]
S'pose I'm not the one who'll be wearing tiles after all--
[Agency and control. Being forced to bond closely and be intimate with other people instantly had Bakugo digging his heels in, refusing out of sheer stubbornness and spite to engage in the hotel's desires. But unfortunately, the writing was on the walls. So instead of giving in, he decided for himself when and how and who he was going to be with. Yeah it was in line with the stupid bird, but it was his choice. Never letting it force him to do anything he truly didn't want to.
Akira is one of his choices. he's wanted to for a while now, embarrassing as it is to silently acknowledge in his mind. yet there it is, slithering across his gray matter via the gentle brush of nude legs across his own. back to the wall, one leg hooking around the thief's calf and holding him close with a possessive angle. right as Akira snags his other leg just above is heel, locking them both together between hot water spray and textured tile wall. skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heat to heat. pressed together from head to toe in all the right places. teeth seize his lip and he snarls in "warning" between his own whites.]
Don't make me dump your ass on the ground. [and deliberately gives his leg, and Akira's by proxy, a little shiver, letting the other boy feel similar tiles under the sole of his foot. tile he'll be wearing from a different angle if he pushes it...]
[oh my god. that's exactly the response Akira wanted. he laughs a bit breathlessly against the kiss, though that laugh quickly turns into a small groan as Bakugou's leg-- no, his entire body-- moves against Akira's. it takes all of his willpower not to let that heated contact get to him, to not allow himself to be overtaken by the haze that quickly fills his mind. he has!! other things!! he wants to do first!! foreplay is, first and foremost, Akira's favorite part of intimacy]
[with a slow exhale, Akira finally allows his hand to meander none-too-innocently across Bakugou's body again with renewed confidence. he searches for other scars this time, starting with the one on his companion's shoulder. . . before his fingers trace further down his arm, mapping out the lines of raised skin etched into biceps]
I'd challenge you to try, but-- [he is putting a pin on that for another day. for now. . . his lips finally trail away from Bakugou's to brush against the lines of his partner's jaw, scattering warm and wet kisses as he goes, pressing them feather-light down his neck] -- I have something else in mind for right now.
[what the hell is grinding and making out if not foreplay?! Bakugo's had a few partners here, but he'd be lying if he said he ever experienced a lot of foreplay with any of them. apart from basic expectations. kissing, touching, pressing, before moving onto either or of the, ahem, big ones. yet the more Akira touches him, the more their bodies meld and fit with each other's, he doesn't want to stop anything. not to break apart and escalate. this right here, feels fucking amazing.
unlike the one on his chest, the torn-edged puncture scar on Bakugo's shoulder doesn't elicit quite the same reaction. muscles in his shoulder's round tense slightly when Akira touches the scar, but a slight shudder ripples down his spine when he caresses over and finally leaves it. bicep hardens no reason other than showing off... though Akira will have to change arms if he intends to reach the jagged tears all over Bakugo's limb (his left shoulder has the puncture, but his right arm has all the seams and rips).]
But? [is all he gets out before Akira's mouth shuts him up with lips wandering down his jaw. a heady quick little gasp before Bakugo drops his head against the wall, eyes closing as the other boy begins messing with his neck. why the hell's it so damn sensitive when Akira touches it?!] Gonna... tell me... or let me guess...
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peacockstop2025-03-15 09:00 pm
no subject
[. . . and he honestly doesn't mind it]
[that purr turns into a pleased hum as he cracks one eye open, gaze heavy and lidded, irises dark underneath the shadow of his lashes. his lips curve into a grin, only slightly sharp around the edges, considering how bonelessly content he feels in the moment. his fingers begin to move, seeking out the raised edges of scarred skin, tracing the shapes he can find with attentive reverence]
[he could say something-- he should say something-- but for some reason, he feels like words would just ruin the moment]
no subject
but considering how thorough and efficient he is, why wouldn't he want to put the same 100% energy into washing someone's hair? they're giving him their head to treat, putting it in his hands, and he'll do his damnest to give them the utmost best! pride's a bitch.
Akira's a purring, humming cat and he wonders for a few seconds what that would feel like pressed against him. vibrating body, rumbling throat, tiny tremors through his arms and legs. he meets those dark irises, shadowed under his lashes and currently clear of the normal curly veil of bangs. and smooths all that mass right backwards over his head, forming a slicked sculpture.
a low exhale and tiny shudder are the first indications there's something sensitive about the scar on his chest, particularly towards the center of it. his body never did decide permanently what kind of sensitivity reaction they'd have, so it's always a toss up when someone touches his scars.]
no subject
Hn. . .?
[a curious noise interrupts Akira's thoughts, and he opens his eyes fully as his gaze flickers down towards that jagged shape cut across Bakugou's chest. honestly. . . it's actually quite stunning. is it weird to think that? to wholeheartedly believes that scars like this are beautiful? to him, it's a magnificent homage to whatever hardships that Bakugou had managed to survive. . . a marking worthy of attention and admiration, to prove that pain and suffering don't make anyone less worthy]
[. . .]
[his fingers dip closer towards the center, though. . . he's starting to think that his hands aren't nearly enough]
It doesn't hurt, does it?
no subject
No.
[a large burst radiating from the center of his chest, torn open as if something exploded from the inside out. slightly raised scar tissue around the edges, smooth throughout most of its breadth, with a nigh-imperceptible line in the middle. where the sutures held it together at the very end. quite the injury. would Akira believe him if he said he was basically dead because of it?
no less noticeable than the ones on his shoulder and lower side, and cheek. four marks of his strength and survival. four marks branding on his body the lengths he went to as a hero.
his hands slow slightly when Akira begins to inch his fingers towards the nucleus.]
no subject
Mm. . .
[he stops when his hand reaches the center of the healed-over injury, once again pressing his palm flat against smooth skin, fingers stretched towards the raised edges. after another moment of hesitation, he takes a step closer, further into Bakugou's personal space, close enough that he can feel the warmth of his companion's body in addition to that of the shower steam]
What happened. . .?
[if Bakugou doesn't mind him asking]
no subject
as Akira steps forward, Bakugo moves to pivot them and bring the other boy into the shower's spray. time to rinse him off while they're talking. he alternates between scuffing his fingers through his hair or combing over the surface as water cascades down. suds slough and drag over muscle and skin before splattering around their feet.]
During the second war, one of the villains' bosses landed a punch right there. The impact blew my heart and lungs apart.
[There was also some funny business involving his own explosive sweat backing up in his overtaxed sweat glands and somehow being forced into his bloodstream to seek for another way out of his body, thus being inside his heart and chest area when the punch landed, but... my jury's a bit still out on that. I mean, it's canon, but... wtf.]no subject
[which is exactly the playfully petulant complaint he'd make if what the other teen said next hadn't completely thrown him]
-- what?
[it may be somewhat comical, the way Akira stares, eyes wide and hair so damp that he looks a bit like a drowned rat]
But that's-- wouldn't you--
[BE DEAD??]
no subject
guess the stunned shock is on the other side now, with Akira's "huh?" expression mirroring Bakugo's when his friend mentioned what and how he stole back home. at least he hadn't looked like a drowned rat in the bookstore.]
My mentor and senpai did their damnest to keep me alive and repair the damage. They let me live.
[the way his voice goes softer, quieter, indicates a rare show of genuine respect for the men he mentions.]
no subject
How. . .?
[if a man loses his heart and lungs, that's certain death, isn't it? there's no coming back from that. at least. . . that's how things work where Akira comes from]
no subject
[folding himself into a biological needle and thread while serving as Bakugo's heart to perform internal CRP as he stitched together his bones and threaded his organs back into shape. as hard as it is to believe, Edgeshot used over 95% of his own organic mass to become Bakugo's heart, lungs, and everything else... at the moment Bakugo's "current" time is, when he was kidnapped here, the other hero's been left as basically a finger-sized sperm shape. just a head and body/tail. conscious, mobile, vocal, but... yeah.
Bakugo also relays those details in a curt, but efficient summary.]
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. . . so that guy-- Edgeshot, was it?-- his body is now permanently a part of yours.
[Akira reiterates, voice quiet, just to make sure he is understanding properly. he can't blame Bakugou for the short but efficient explanation. from Akira's point of view, someone literally gave up their life to save Bakugou's, and that. . . is a lot to deal with]
[. . .]
[Akira exhales deeply, gaze dipping downward to stare at the scar on Bakugou's chest with new understanding]
It must feel strange.
[not physically. emotionally]
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Aa. He let me live.
[Bakugo isn't going to downplay that. thankfully it's not some Quirk vestige where Edgeshot's consciousness floats around in his head or pops out of his body to ask him what's for breakfast.]
He was willing to give up everything, but Jeanist had done enough work he didn't need to sacrifice everything.
[so Edgeshot also got to live on.]
Kinda. But if my life was worth saving, then I'm gonna live the best fucking life I can so everything he did for me will be worth it and more.
[and being stuck in this shithole definitely isn't honoring Edgeshot's sacrifice, buuut... since "his" world's not even moving, guess it's a moot point.]
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[. . . it's good to hear that Bakugou's friend didn't need to sacrifice everything to save his life, but still. . . Akira can't even imagine how he'd feel if someone gave up that much to rescue him. he'd probably never get over the guilt. hm. maybe that's something he should examine one day. how strange it feels to imagine someone caring about him that much]
[at any rate, Bakugou seems to be handling it much better, and Akira finally smiles]
I think that's the best way to repay him.
[. . . reluctantly, Akira glides his hand away from that scar, allowing fingers to trail further up Bakugou's chest, across his collarbone, and back to his neck. there, Akira rests his palm at the juncture of jaw and cheek, like he's gently cradling Bakugou's face in his hand]
You're a pretty brave guy, Sparky.
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it's a hard feeling. as a hero, Bakugo places the responsibility on himself to carry his life even more importantly moving forward. someone else thought so highly of him he was willing to die to ensure Bakugo lived. he can't throw his life away or waste it, because it's no longer "only" his life. even if it's naught more than flesh and bone, Edgeshot became part of him, and it's his duty to make sure the other hero's sacrifice wasn't in vain. continuing to be the greatest hero possible honors that decision. because if he does anything else, the guilt and shame will consume him completely.
Akira met Bakugo after he had about six months or more to recover, along with the hotel's magical accelerated healing. can't encourage someone to fuck around when his heart and lungs are barely recovered from being assploded.]
No shit. [he didn't mean to warn Akira off the scar, but guesses it'd be a bit odd to go fondling something with such a history. for a little while at least. Bakugo arches a brow when the other teen rests his hand on his jaw, thumb across his cheek. such a tender gesture... with some sassy sweet words.] Tch. Just noticing that now?
[yeah, he's taunting him.]
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[. . . and Akira has hardly been dissuaded from paying proper attention to that scar. if anything, knowing the significance of that wound just makes him want to explore it even more. he'll come back to it in a bit; for now, he keeps his hand pressed against the side of Bakugou's face, allowing the pad of his thumb to trace sharp cheekbones as he grins]
Nope. Noticed it before. Just thought I'd say something about it now.
[. . .]
[an exhale. the grin softens]
. . . anyway. . .
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dammit. Akira's bouncing around between serious, weirdly tender, flirty, and something else, leaving Bakugo momentarily unsure how to react. jaw a bit tense, face warming despite himself, eyes jumping from the thief's eyes to lips to hair to cheek to eyes again. that stupid thumb going caress caress right below his eyelid isn't helping things either! half his head tempts a tilt and nuzzle, half jabs a proverbial heel in the ground out of pride.]
Dammit, you're too fucking slow. [saying that to Akira or himself? who knows! Bakugo abruptly leans forward and kisses Akira, a firm, warm touch with just the right amount of cant so they don't ram noses or click teeth.
that's one way out of embarrassing sappy stuff.]
1/2
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[the way Akira immediately melts makes it clear that he has been thinking about this for far too long. too fucking slow indeed. . . there were probably a million other times during this conversation that he could have closed the distance between them to make good on the promise to mess around. but. . . he can't say he regrets putting it off, if it gave him the chance to learn more about his companion. his. . . friend]
[but now that lips have met, something snaps, and Akira returns that kiss with eager hunger as his hand slides from Bakugou's cheek to the back of his neck. he grins, muttering a quiet but amused-- sorry, sorry-- against the kiss. his bad!! he just got distracted. . .]
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kissing him. it feels... good. completely unique. tracing his lips' contours, how his cupid's bow dips in the center, lower lip's plusher than his upper, and a sudden surge forward answers his own hunger. a hand on his nape earns a low groan as Bakugo presses into the kiss, tilting his head the other way to deepen it and change their angle. fine, he'll distract him anew!]
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[Bakugou deepens the kiss, and Akira follows suit, mouth parting to invite his companion deeper. and in the same motion, he steps forward, free hand planted against his partner's chest to slowly push him backwards, until he bumps up against the cool tiles of the shower wall]
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an open invitation taken and he steps forward, bringing their bodies flush together even as Akira guides him backwards. legs slide past each other, a few brushing steps intertwined, before his back hits the wall and one hand manages to grab the shower head along the way to twist it towards them. barely gets above Akira's shoulder blades now, but it's better than making out as the wet wall behind him grows colder in the steam.]
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[. . . so Akira has considered what it might be like to touch, to kiss, to press himself up against someone else while enveloped in the warm steam of a hot shower. but honestly? every encounter he has had thus far while trapped in the Golden Peacock's walls has been way better than anything his curious-yet-inexperienced imagination could conjure up. and this? is no different]
[it's electric, the way their legs brush against one another as he shoves Bakugou back. it's so freakin' thrilling, the moment he feels the resistance of the shower wall, his palm laying flat against damp musces even as he moves forward to hook his ankle around Bakugou's, to keep them flush with as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. his lips curve into a pleased grin against that kiss before he dives right back into it, catching his companion's lower lip between his teeth in a sharp, playful nip]
[he mutters, voice low]
S'pose I'm not the one who'll be wearing tiles after all--
[don't push your luck, Akira!!]
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Akira is one of his choices. he's wanted to for a while now, embarrassing as it is to silently acknowledge in his mind. yet there it is, slithering across his gray matter via the gentle brush of nude legs across his own. back to the wall, one leg hooking around the thief's calf and holding him close with a possessive angle. right as Akira snags his other leg just above is heel, locking them both together between hot water spray and textured tile wall. skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heat to heat. pressed together from head to toe in all the right places. teeth seize his lip and he snarls in "warning" between his own whites.]
Don't make me dump your ass on the ground. [and deliberately gives his leg, and Akira's by proxy, a little shiver, letting the other boy feel similar tiles under the sole of his foot. tile he'll be wearing from a different angle if he pushes it...]
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[with a slow exhale, Akira finally allows his hand to meander none-too-innocently across Bakugou's body again with renewed confidence. he searches for other scars this time, starting with the one on his companion's shoulder. . . before his fingers trace further down his arm, mapping out the lines of raised skin etched into biceps]
I'd challenge you to try, but-- [he is putting a pin on that for another day. for now. . . his lips finally trail away from Bakugou's to brush against the lines of his partner's jaw, scattering warm and wet kisses as he goes, pressing them feather-light down his neck] -- I have something else in mind for right now.
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unlike the one on his chest, the torn-edged puncture scar on Bakugo's shoulder doesn't elicit quite the same reaction. muscles in his shoulder's round tense slightly when Akira touches the scar, but a slight shudder ripples down his spine when he caresses over and finally leaves it. bicep hardens no reason other than showing off... though Akira will have to change arms if he intends to reach the jagged tears all over Bakugo's limb (his left shoulder has the puncture, but his right arm has all the seams and rips).]
But? [is all he gets out before Akira's mouth shuts him up with lips wandering down his jaw. a heady quick little gasp before Bakugo drops his head against the wall, eyes closing as the other boy begins messing with his neck. why the hell's it so damn sensitive when Akira touches it?!] Gonna... tell me... or let me guess...
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