#((Endeavor better behave))

[dankovskaya]

Reading about the early days of the zi*nist project is genuinely horrifying like. Absolute loss of faith in the culture in humanity at large etc

[mellowwpopper]

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

I'm seeing a notable handful of posts in the Amazing Digital Circus tag disagreeing on Gangle's character and I think the big thing about the difference in perspective is really just: How seriously are thou as an audience member taking the 'minimum wage job for a day' premise? (I will singlehandedly re-introduce 'thou' into the english lexicon you watch me, it's so much better than the general-you)

In a world where this is meant to be treated like a shitty little game, Gangle's behaviour in response to Jax misbehaving is really kind of unacceptable. Ragatha's more fucked up by the Stupid Sauce that Caine somehow decided was a good idea to include than she is by the dump in the deep fryer, Gangle did not need to threaten Jax with "horrible punishment" from the most powerful thing in their lives over what amounts to general disrespect and a minor inconvenience. Mr. Orbzman is an NPC and not a person, Jax shouldn't have to hold his tongue about it like he would at a real job where the customers are real people with real feelings. Pomni's feelings over and attachment to Gummigoo are more important than being a good little cashier and playing the game properly. Gangle putting Jax on cleaning duty for the bathrooms when they 'look like a biohazard' is absurd and demeaning because it's a long established fact that this is a digital world where bio-anything is completely meaningless, and she's just making him do unpleasant shit for no reason other than she wants it done and she wants him doing it. And her responding to his continued refusal to play along by locking him in an isolated room, strapping him to a chair, and Doing A Brainwashing To Him is Fucking Horrifying and borderline irredeemable.

Also: "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean." Is frankly an evil thing to say.

But in a world where this is a situation with real stakes, where failure or success in this endeavor Means Something, where Jax dumping Ragatha in the fryer is something that is hurtful and disruptive and unnecessarily cruel, where Jax refusing to keep his mouth shut until he's on break and out of earshot of the customers makes the day of the person he's badmouthing worse and might result in penalties from people above their heads, where Pomni leaving her post to try and talk to Gummigoo is both actively letting down her coworkers who are relying on her to do the job she's been assigned and an imposition on Gummigoo because They Are Strangers Now and there is no taking him back to the circus with her, where Gangle has been trusted with a position of responsibility and authority which has knock on effects for everyone beneath her and Jax won't even clean out the stupid bathrooms when they need cleaning— in that situation, Gangle's very manic and high strung about it and perhaps crosses a line with the whole 'summarily breaking Jax's spirit complete with a horror movie reference' thing, but She's Still Right.

Jax needed an attitude adjustment and nothing was working, so she goes a little nuclear on him. Pomni shouldn't be piling all this emotional baggage on someone who, right now, is a random customer. Gangle's very gentle with Ragatha when she's clearly out of it because she understands something is causing Ragatha to behave loopy and out of character, and in response, Ragatha says the colorful thoughtful gift that's been keeping Gangle together and allowing her to independently function at a level she's usually not capable of makes her annoying!!!

That's somehow so much worse than Jax saying he likes her better sad??? Because at least with Jax, he's expressing his displeasure at being ordered around by someone he previously called "submissive and agreeable" and not having any control over this situation. Ragatha's just saying something mean after telling Gangle she doesn't need help (she does) and thinks she could do a better job as shift manager (she has no proof of this).

And regardless of how seriously thou as the audience member are taking it and why, Gangle is taking it Incredibly Seriously. She is on 'If you die in the game, you die in real life' levels of emotional investment, this is all So Real to her, and anytime the others treat it like it's dumb and useless and hollow, it kicks up So Much Distress within her for reasons I'm gonna trust you guys to think on. And thou might think that is a detriment to her character in and of itself, or thou might be more endeared to her by it, but that is what's happening. So basically the reason some of y'all are coming out of this episode liking Gangle less and some are coming out adoring her is mostly dependent on if you personally are predisposed to take her side by taking the Hard Day's Work At Spudsy's Family Diner seriously.

[cerastes]

Do you think Amiya ever had to defuse pre-Undertides Specter? Or is Kal'tsit still in the 'We Do Not Mention The Black Crown' mindset?

Hmmm... Personally I think Kal'tsit wants to keep Amiya outside of Aegirian and Iberian matters altogether, otherwise we'd see her be an active participant in the Abyssal Hunter arc, and yet, while Kal'tsit is deploying plenty of her heavy hitters -- Gladiia, Specter, Skadi, Elysium, herself -- and trying to establish healthy relations with other heavy hitters -- Saint Carmen, Irene, Dario -- it's not as if she's holding back power picks. In that sense, I think bringing Amiya -- a heavyweight herself -- would be a good idea, yet she's absent from the arc. It could merely be logistics, so Amiya can attend to other things, but I mainly think she doesn't want to involve literal child Amiya in even more sordid endeavors if she can help it, because she is already involved in the main story, which is heavy enough (regardless of temporality, of course). That said, you could not possibly find anyone better to defuse Specter if it ever was needed: Besides Skadi and Gladiia, who arrived later to RI than Specter, you really don't have anyone that could possibly contain a rampaging Specter and keep it casualty or collateral damage-free. Specter was literally doing air combos and Devil May Cry shit when actually fighting in a setting where people don't do that shit, plus the way in-universe Abyssal Hunters are on a whole other level in terms of power scaling. A casual, light backhand from hers would knock your entire torso clean off your legs mortal kombat style. What better way to subdue someone like that than doing a little mind-probing to defuse her, especially when she's not inherently hostile to begin with? Amiya quite literally hard counters Specter in the context of a meltdown or a rampage.

Now, from what we know, Specter was always potentially extremely dangerous and never actually dangerous: She behaved erratically but never in a hostile manner to RI, and even her voice lines suggest this is pretty deliberate from Specter (or, rather, Laurentina's inherent influence on Specter), particularly in my opinion one of her in-battle lines when you pick her from your deployment row: "Please let me know the results" (Selecting Operator 2). She's fully acknowledging that she will NOT remember what's about to happen in the upcoming fight you're sending her into, and that she's deliberately going into "combat mode" as per her Files.

My conclusion from all of this is that it probably was never needed, but if it came to that, Kal'tsit would not have hesitated to have Amiya do it, and she would've been able to do it the best out of anyone short of Skadi and/or Gladiia already being around. The 'We Do Not Mention The Black Crown' mindset doesn't really play a role in this one because Specter was already super extra confidential in the first place as well, very very few people knew about Specter in Rhodes Island pre-Stultifera Navis, you had to have super extra special clearance to know about her as per her 1st Operator Record, which included top-level medical staff like Warfarin and Folinic, or being strong and trusted enough in Rhodes Island that they send you to the same extremely dangerous operations that they sent Specter on, like Meteorite. Given the inherent secrecy of Specter, it'd have been fine to have Amiya handle that since no one else would've known anyways -- and being the owner of Rhodes Island, Amiya presumably of course also knew about her.

[myscenic]

My Safe Place [Teaser]

Pairing: bodyguard!lee jeno x male!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, smut, slight enemies to friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, top!jeno, smut (more to be revealed later), reader is very childish, cold jeno

Word Count: teaser (1k+) | full fic (?k+)

Started Date: 15.5.24 | Finished Date: ?.?.24

Synopsis: y/n's family is going on a trip for a month but decided to leave y/n at home because he always causes trouble. they told jeno to take care of him. y/n was upset, especially he had to live with his cold ass bodyguard for an entire month.

ʚɞ Note: i'm officially working on my first long fanfic! don't ask me about the jisung one LMAO. i'm really excited for this one :>> i barely see any long fics for male readers so I decided to do one so. and for the ppl who sent in the requests, i'm sorry i haven't worked on any of them yet, but i promise i'll finish them asap!!

y/n watched frustrated as the car carrying his family drove away down the long driveway. they were all waving goodbye through the windows, excited for their month long vacation at the beach house. all except him.

once again, y/n had been deemed too "troublesome" to join them, left behind instead with jeno, their family’s bodyguard. jeno stood next to y/n, his usual blank expression watching the car ready to leave.

"a whole month?!" y/n exclaimed, annoyance lacing his tone. he shot an irritated glare at jeno. "this is all your fault."

but jeno remained silent and stoic as ever. y/n knew he wouldn't get a response.

it's not like y/n caused that much trouble, he thought to himself. sure, he prank called a pizza place to send the school 20 pizzas on the principal's name. and he had set off a few stink bombs in class. but it was harmless pranks! his parents never understood.

the only one on his side was his brother junhui. as he got in the car, junhui ruffled y/n's hair affectionately and gave him an apologetic smile. "try not to drive jeno too crazy, okay?" he said with a wink.

y/n stuck his tongue out in reply. easy for junhui to say - he wasn't the one stranded for a month with the boring guy.

speaking of which, jeno had already started towards the house. y/n had to jog to catch up to his long strides. "so what, you're my personal jailer?" y/n grumbled.

as stoic as ever, jeno responded, "i'm doing my job to keep you out of trouble."

y/n sighed dramatically. "well your job sucks. this is going to be the longest month ever." but jeno just kept walking, cold and uncaring as always. ugh.

y/n stopped in front of jeno, blocking his path to the house. "entertain me mr. bodyguard!" he demanded with a smirk. "it's going to be just the two of us for a whole month, so you better find some way to keep me occupied."

jeno gazed down at y/n expressionlessly. "i'm not here for your amusement," he replied in a monotone voice. "i have a job to do - keeping you safe and out of trouble so your family can enjoy their vacation."

he tried to step around y/n, but the boy moved to obstruct him again. "come on, there must be something fun you can do!" y/n prodded, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "or are you really as boring as you look?"

jeno sighed inwardly. dealing with y/n was never easy, but now it was going to be a full time endeavor for the next 30 days. as much as he disliked encouraging the boy's mischievous behavior, he knew he had to find some way to keep y/n entertained and well behaved while his family was gone.

jeno's mind quickly ran through possible options. "if you accompany me to do evening training exercises, i suppose i could teach you some basic self defense techniques," he suggested. it would help fill the time productively, at least.

y/n blocked jeno's path once more. "training exercises?" he scoffed. “no thanks, i’m good. come on jeno, live a little!"

jeno simply rolled his eyes. "then stop interrupting me and let me do my job," he replied in an exasperated tone. he tried to step around y/n again.

but the boy wasn't done yet. "how are you even the same age as my perfect brother junhui when you're so boring?" y/n continued to needle him.

jeno could feel a headache coming on already. "i’m not here to entertain you. now move aside," was all he said evenly.

y/n threw his hands up with an overly dramatic sigh. "ugh, you're impossible. i'll be in my room if you need me, which you won't because you're the most boring person ever."

with that, he spun on his heel and stalked back inside, leaving jeno alone on the doorstep. the bodyguard let out a quiet breath, silently thanking whatever higher power gave him the patience to deal with this difficult charge.

later that afternoon, y/n was still lying bored in his bedroom after two hours of doing nothing. he was surprised when he got a text from his best friend chenle.

lele: yooo wanna hangout?

y/n: i cantttt jenos not letting me go anywhere!

lele: sneak out then? ;)

y/n felt a thrill of excitement at the suggestion. chenle had always been more of a rebel than him. before he could think better of it, he typed back.

y/n: omggg ur a genius! okay let's meet at 3pm at the park!

but as the time approached, doubts started to creep in. what if jeno found out? he'd be in so much trouble. y/n paced his room anxiously, debating whether to go through with it.

at that moment, there was a firm knock on his door. "it's time for your daily security check," came jeno's even voice.

he took a deep breath and opened the door, forcing a casual smile. "hey jeno. nothing to report, same as usual. boring in here!"

jeno's intense gaze swept the room before settling on y/n. "make sure it stays that way. no sneaking out while i'm not watching, understood?"

y/n gulped. with great effort, y/n kept his tone light. "yeah, yeah, i get it. you're in charge. i’ll be good, promise!"

for a long moment, jeno just looked at him assessingly. then with a stern "i mean it. leave the door open so i can check on you better," he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to wonder - how much trouble was he really in?

y/n hurriedly changed into some nicer clothes, excitement growing at the thought of sneaking out without jeno catching him. he peered out his window, ready to jump out.

just as y/n swung his leg over the sill, ready to jump, there was a knock on the door. "y/n, do you want something to eat? i can grab you some snacks-"

jeno saw y/n was at the window, he shouted, "hey!", y/n gave him a cheeky smirk. "see ya!" he called out confidently.

in one swift motion, y/n launched himself out the open window before jeno could react. he managed to stick the landing in the grass below, rolling to absorb the impact. already he could hear jeno shouting after him from the bedroom window.

"this kid..."

[yanderelionwrites]

MHA Yandere Lists: Your Bedroom

Content Warning: yandere, kidnapping

These yanderes set up a separate room for you to stay in. They want to ease you into your new home and situation, so giving you your own room will hopefully make you see they’re trying to be courteous and make you comfortable. They’ll do their best to decorate the bedroom with all of your favorite things and design it to your liking. And if you ever get lonely sleeping in your bed all by yourself, you can always join them in their room 👀

| ALL MIGHT, Eijiro Kirishima, Fat Gum, Fumikage Tokoyami, HAWKS, Hitoshi Shinso, IZUKU MIDORIYA, Kyouka Jiro, Mezo Shoji, Mirio Togata, MOMO YAOYOROZU, Natsuo Todoroki, Ochako Uraraka, Sero Hanta, Shota Aizawa, SHOTO TODOROKI, Tamaki Amajiki, Tenya Iida, Tsuyu Asui

They make you sleep in their bedroom, chaining you to the post if they have to. That way, they’ll always know where you are, even when they’re sleeping. You don’t need your own bedroom, that’s just ridiculous. Why would you want to be away from them? You just look so cute lying in their bed and they get to cuddle you to their heart’s content. And don’t worry, they’ll make sure to include some of the stuff you like in their room so you feel more “at home” 😃

| DENKI KAMINARI, Endeavor, HIMIKO TOGA, Katsuki Bakugo, MIDNIGHT, Mina Ashido, Mirko, Mr. Compress, Nejire Hado, Present Mic, Re-Destro, Spinner, TWICE

They keep you in the basement and, maybe if you’re good, you can move upstairs. You’ll be chained up down there, with nothing but a mattress, a thin blanket, and a flat pillow to keep you company. Soon, you’ll have no choice but to behave and beg to stay upstairs with your captor. Anything would be better than living with the bugs and the dust covering each surface… 🪳

| All For One, DABI, Endeavor, Midnight, Mirko, Tomura Shigaraki

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3

Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping

— Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Don’t you care?! 

Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver. 

You try to scream some senses into Chad’s tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, you’re too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish – and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes. 

— Listen to me, goddamnit! We’re all going to die! 

You must be looking horrible – mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger – even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone. 

Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong – you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads – and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Marty’s stash isn’t very nice even if he kinda doesn’t care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling. 

Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear – you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killer’s smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty. 

— Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there? 

— Karen is…

— Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isn’t dead. I mean, I’m glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome. 

Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You don’t think that there are ways to fake this – and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and you’d still want out. 

— I saw her! 

— Sure you did, hon. Listen, I’m really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it first…

— Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! — God, you’re annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until I’d pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze. 

— I saw her severed head!

— Sure you did. Listen – you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say that…hmmmm…that Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife and…

You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea – because before he could finish it, his head was impaled with…oh, no. No-no-no, you can’t do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt – something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas. 

This was completely silent – the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Marty’s lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didn’t even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year – you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You can’t do it, you can’t do it, you won’t do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb. 

Some people are simply not built for survival – this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist – fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you – when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest. 

You run before everything else can kick in – at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head – not the upper one anyway – but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple. 

You ran 

 ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎   ‎‎      ‎    and you ran ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎  ‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎  ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‎      and you ran some more

And you ran right into his chest. 

Wall of muscles, no less – you aren’t even sure if this is a human’s body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in – you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night – lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long. 

— I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger. 

This is the tall killer – low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death – his hand is big enough to cover your head and you don’t want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers. 

König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold – and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold – even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug. 

— Tshhh, Hase, don’t cry. I won’t be able to let you go if you’d proceed with those sweet noises, ja? 

His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug – only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldn’t be concealed since this is an obvious threat to…ah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse. 

— Let me go! 

You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue – the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch. 

He fucking moans. 

— Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, aren’t I? 

You don’t understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible. 

You tug on this weird hood he is wearing – if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body – maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, you’re not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside. 

— Let! 

You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back – and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels. 

— Me! 

You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit – only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didn’t – he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towards…you only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not – probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones. 

— Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he – a dirty businessman who doesn’t like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now? 

Probably the grandpa. 

You yank the mask up and…

Ah. 

Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes – blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die. 

He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone – your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You won’t have such problems if you’re dead, right? 

— Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early. 

— Br…breaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact? 

— I promised Tiger that we’d let you roam around a little. Make things interesting. 

Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didn’t go straight to the police is because A) You don’t speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone can’t connect to anything, and C) You don’t even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because you’re scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust. 

— I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, ass…

Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it – you don’t even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you. 

— Language, Hase. Don’t make me discipline you, ja? — Fuck you! — Very gut then. That’s what you will do very soon.

Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feel…something. You won’t want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after – and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin and…

You try to think of something – anything. 

Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly and…ah, it’s not working. 

König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood – you’re fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you – perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since you’d be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once he’d emptied himself on your warm body just once. 

You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he can’t stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar – it’s more of a Horangi’s thing, even though König hopes he won’t have to break you too much until you’d call him daddy – pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that you’re nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions. 

— Let me go. 

— Nein. 

— Please? 

— I like your begging, Spatz. 

— It means you’d let me go? 

— Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere. 

— But, um…your culprit will be mad, no? 

As cunning as you can, you’re trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. You’re trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he won’t fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so you’d actually convince him. 

But, it’s not really working – maybe, you aren’t as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were. 

— He’d live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. It’s enough to make him understand my reasons. 

It’s definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it – he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body – and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest. 

You’re trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark – but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more – you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators. 

After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long – this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, you’re standing in front of a…house. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer. 

Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years – and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot. 

— Welcome home, Schatz. 

He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room – literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if you’d see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldn’t even consider it too weird. You were expecting…something. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like them…

You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep. 

You fucking hate forest trips. 

[fallenhunnyapple]

One of my biggest headcanons for Lucifer is Just How Important Personhood is to him.

The whole reason he wanted to bestow free will onto Humanity was because he saw that Heaven treated them no better than pets. Replaceable when they disobeyed (like with Lilith) and expected to just live carefree without autonomy, amounting to nothing more than another breeding project like any of the other animals in Eden.

Humans made music, something beautiful and different from what was in Heaven, raw and unpolished and Real. They had souls filled with curiosity and love. And all Heaven wanted was to keep them complacent, not let them reach their full potential, squash down their creative capacity and keep from them the chance to be something fully realised. He related.

So the chance to let them break out of Heaven's perfect expectations, let them have minds of their own, become more than what they were created for. How could he, knowing it was possible to give them that gift, to let them come out from under Heaven's thumb enough to thrive and create and become something truly wonderful, not give them such a chance? He saw their potential and he couldn't stand to see it stifled. He couldn't get Heaven to give him his freedom, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to give it to the creations he loved instead.

How was he to know that Evil would follow? That the beautiful future he wanted for Humanity would splinter and fracture in front of him? That he would be condemned to never see any part of what he'd hoped to create for them? He gave humanity their Personhood at a cost. He lost what little he had in the eyes of Heaven to be twisted into a nightmare story to scare Angels into behaving, fuel hatred towards himself and those whose loyalty had them follow after him, poison a human man against him and paint his genuinely loving intentions into a personal endeavor to cause him as much pain as possible.

But for as much as he'd lost, for as much pain he endured and regrets he harbored, ultimately, he had given Humanity their Personhood. They could choose how to live their lives out from under the influence from Heaven. They got to thrive and create and find their potential. Even if the only thing he would see of it was when they chose wrong.

The path to Hell is paved with Good Intentions, and none so much as Lucifer's himself.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Guy Crimson & Diablo ‐ Flirty Himbo Male Reader

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Okay! So after many many months, I have rewatched 'That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime' so that I can finally write and post this ask. If I'm being completely honest I'm pretty sure Guy wouldn't be too affected by flirting. Diablo too, probably. I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you like this, I did my best. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

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👹 Well aren't you easy on the eyes. Consider this Primordial Demon Lord very interested. Guy can't help but wonder how in the world you're so muscular. He himself is quite physically fit, but you? Give him some tips will you, maybe you can work out together. Guy definitely won't mind the meal his eyes will be feasting on during that endeavor. Huh? Leon who? Not important at the moment, he's too busy getting an eye full of this hot ass man in front of him.

👹 Guy certainly noticed that you aren't the sharpest sword in the armory and he finds it kind of hot. Don't get him wrong, he likes having intelligent conversation with people, but the way that you look at him when you have absolutely no idea what he's staying just does things to him. Guy can't really explain it too well, but having a handsome empty-headed boyfriend to go to in his free time is wonderful way to take a break.

👹 Your lack of intellect also has him assuming that you don't actually mean the words that you say in they way that he interprets them. Guy doesn't think that you understand quite how much he's holding himself back from doing as he pleases with you. Usually he just watches you in amusement as you "tease" him, chuckling at how truly bold you were to behave in this way towards Guy of all people.

👹 I don't believe that Guy is the flirting type. He's a strait foreword guy so even if a wild himbo appears and starts to flirt, he would get his message across pretty easily, no flirting needed. If he's interested, which in this case he would be, you would definitely know. To be honest, Guy wouldn't be fazed... Like, at all; considering how direct he is with Leon about how he's down to fuck. He would be really happy that someone that he thought was interesting was reciprocating for once, though.

👹 You want to do him favors? Why? Guy has maids and underlings for something like that. However, he just chalks it up to being your love language and just let's you do simple things that he could easily do on his own. Like getting him something to eat or grabbing him that book off the shelf over there. Your his boyfriend, Guy's not really keen on sending you away to deal with anything major, he'll do that on his own.

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🦇 Ah? Why hello there, handsome sir. Aren't you a sight for this primordial demon lord's eyes. Give him a little twirl so he can get a better look at you. But Diablo is a gentleman, so he will only permit himself to look respectfully. Very intensly; but respectfully. You don't mind, do you? Diablo really can't keep his gaze away no matter how hard he fights it. So forgive him, okay?

🦇 So you're a bit on the dim side? That's okay! Diablo will sit you down and describe anything you need him to in heavy detail. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about anything at all, he'll take care of it for you. Anything for you! Diablo wouldn't want you to think too hard, now. He doesn't want you to strain yourself. Just let him serve you as he does Lord Rimuru.

🦇 Now, Diablo knows he's handsome. It's not hard to understand considering the lingering gazes he gets from many people on the daily. However, this poor primordial demon lord was not prepared when the handsome man he had his eyes on started to flirt with him. Diablo couldn't help but be flustered; it was you who was showering him with compliments and innuendos instead of the other way around, after all.

🦇 While Diablo is a gentleman, he can certainly lay it on thick with the words of affirmation and occasional innuendos, but only when it comes to you. I like to think that he'd only return the favor in a private setting, he has an image to uphold. Such uncouth behavior is unbecoming of a butler like himself. But in all honesty, Diablo can let loose some raunchy shit when the time is right; the shit that comes out of this man's mouth could make even Guy Crimson blush a little.

🦇 No. He will not allow you to do any tasks or favors for him, that's his job; Diablo lives to serve and serving you is no exception. However, he will let do a few of the smaller tasks with him if you continue to insist. Acts of service are his love language so he prefer to do everything on his own, but if you sit him down and explain it to him Diablo will give you very small and simple things to do whenever he can.

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🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[myjealouseyes]

“Need to talk about Regulus and Wolfstar!daughter again”

Our ears are OPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥👂👂‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

REAL!!! I will be ranting now:

Child!Wolfstar!daughter unknowingly playing a huge part in healing Regulus and Sirius’s relationship is so important to me.

To start out, I don’t think Regulus would be Sirius’s first choice to watch over his child. Not because he thinks he would ever intentionally hurt her but because they just aren’t as close as we’re growing up and he’d feel better if she was with someone he feels like he knows wholly. (Which is one of the reasons James and Lily babysat a lot) but also I think it has a lot to do with his fear of messing up. He still has a deep-rooted fear of messing her up and being like his parents were. He’s overcautious. (More under the cut because this’ll probably be a longer post than normal)

I think it’s also worth noting that the demeanor that Regulus presents to the world doesn’t excactly give “nurturing, warm, I love kids please leave me with one!” So Sirius just assumes he’s more of a come visit for an hour or so uncle.

His first few visits with wolfstar!daughter are so awkward. They kind of just stare at each other because she’s shy and he knows virtually nothing about kids. She likes that he’s not loud though, so a lot of their first interactions is her drawing a picture or and showing it to him, him smiling at it and tucking it very gently into his bag to keep for later. (He keeps ALL of them.)

Sirius peeps this and slowly starts to get more comfortable with them spending longer periods of time together, so one day he bites the bullet and ask him to watch her while he and Remus go on a date. Regulus very hesitantly accepts. (Not because he doesn’t want to watch his niece but because he’s nervous. He knows this was a big thing for Sirius and is really the biggest step in mending their relationship so far. He doesn’t want to mess it up.)

Although he’s basically shitting his pants about this endeavor, he does it anyway because his niece is such an angel. How hard could it possibly be?

Very. It could be very hard. Although wolfstar!daughter is well behaved, she is needy and gets homesick, so he has to constantly reassure her that her dads are coming back and will be there when she wakes up. She was also one of those kids who liked all their snacks prepared a certain way. (Poor Kreacher, having to remake the same chopped fruit several times until she approves.)

They do have fun though. He’ll do anything to keep her distracted until Remus and Sirius get back soooo they have tea parties (with proper etiquette), play hide and seek (she’s too good at that game. Nearly gave him a heart attack), and he lets her sit on his shoulders and braid his hair like her papa does.

They’re pooped from all the fun they had and end up falling asleep on the couch. (Wolfstar!daughter sprawled out across his lap) which is how Sirius finds them the next morning <33

[atlasofoverthinking]

mha’s ending should’ve been bittersweet

i know what you’re going to say “but Atlas, it kinda feels bittersweet already”

yes, yes it is. Izuku and Uraraka failed at saving Shigaraki and Toga (even though it was their main goal), the Todorokis aren’t doing better either, and basically no one in the league has been saved (even though “saving people with a smile” was literally Izuku’s dream)

no need to scroll for too long to see people complaining about the ending. i guess the only ones who’ve truly won are the bkdk stans.

[here i’m basing that ‘bittersweet’ feeling on the fact that the main goals haven’t exactly been accomplished + my own feelings tbh]

now, how do we make it better without changing it too much?

the main issue i personally have with the ending is that it’s trying so hard to be a happy ending when, as previously said, it feels bittersweet

and that’s where my main point is: in my opinion, the ending would have been better if it had been an assumed bittersweet ending

lets say we keep it all the same: Shigaraki, Kurogiri and Toga die, Touya is in the hospital, Spinner and Compress are in jail. so the heroes won but Izuku, Ochaco and Shouto feel like they’ve lost.

we had a conversation between Izuku and Ochaco, i wish we had heard more of Shouto’s feelings in the epilogue (it feels like Endeavor stole the spotlight in Shouto’s story but that’s a whole other subject)

what would’ve been great is a conversation between those threes (and maybe Bakugou too) and the teachers/pro heroes.

war heroes or not, they were just kids. and i think that the adults could (and should) help them deal with these feelings, especially eraserhead and present mix (that way the whole shirakumo/oboro plot gets a proper conclusion too)

that wouldn’t have been the best obviously. but it could’ve been a good start for the students to say: we failed, but we’re going to honor their memory by preventing this from happening again.

and then comes the time skip, in which we put more focus on the new generation of heroes doing more and really make a change. in canon, we know Ochaco and Shouji are working on it, i think it could’ve been more though. one example that comes to mind is the heroes ranking. giving more rewards to make sure no one else turns like endeavor feels weird. heroes aren't supposed to behave like toddlers???

the whole "we failed this time but we'll keep working to make the world a better place" is interesting imo, but it would have been accepted by the fandom if it had happened with another villain.

what i'm trying to say is: if izuku had failed to save another vilain in the middle of the story but had used this experience to do better with shigaraki, it would have been interesting. but here, it just feels like a failure with an epilogue to create an illusion of a happy ending.

[seafoamreadings]

week of july 14th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: a much anticipated mars-uranus conjunction occurs with algol in your 2nd house this week. yes, it's scary vibes. so the warnings: beware head injuries, concussions, etc. your money may be at risk, or you may find yourself sacrificing some important values. on the bright side the energies can be strangely empowering from you. don't go starting trouble, but don't shy away from a fight (metaphorically. do very much avoid physical violence under this transit.) justice is on your side.

taurus: for you as for many, the mars-uranus conjunction is the major focal point of the week. in this scenario, do you see yourself as medusa or as perseus? algol is, probably quite unjustly, considered the "demon" star. it is the eye of medusa, gleaming furiously from her severed head. you may be victorious, you may be filled with righteous anger. it is important to behave in a way that keeps you safe, but otherwise, act accordingly.

gemini: while others tremble in fear waiting for the mars-uranus conjunction to come and pass, that transit occurs mainly behind the scenes for you, in the back of your mind or in dreams. however, do be very careful in/about isolated places like hospitals, prisons, etc. much more likely noticeable to you is the subsequent ingress of mars into your sign. it will likely be refreshing, invigorating, and energized from that conjunction.

cancerians: on the one hand, it may be best to stay out of even lovely social circles this week, in favor of keeping more or less to yourself. on the other hand, another capricorn full moon lights up your relationships later in the week. although relationship develop under such circumstances, this can certainly be done from afar as you enjoy your solitude in some warm, cozy lair.

leo: we are now on the cusp of most solar leo season. celebration is good - but probably better in private at this time. a soft launch, so to speak. the focus should be on the private life, not the public life, which can be completely unmanageable and unpredictable this week.

virgo: if you need to make a major life change, mars and uranus conjoining in your 9th house can give you the gumption you need to get it taken care of. with that said i would advise strongly against any travel at this time, especially if it is of a long distance variety, and i would be mindful that long distance relationships can be at a tipping point with this aspect - most likely not tipping in a direction you'll enjoy (sorry).

libra: some esoteric weirdness or even some form of grief may take up a big chunk of your week but otherwise all the auspices are quite good for librans now. if there is trouble at home, find a quiet place to stabilize. if there is trouble out in the world, let your home instead be your sanctuary. keep a reliable, steady home base, is the point, and the other chaos of the moment will pass easier.

scorpio: committed partnerships likely get put through the ringer this week. not just your significant other if you have one but a business partner, a best friend, etc. those things you really have some loyalty too. but if they stand this test, they are good as gold, solid and worth keeping.

sagittarius: you're not known for being a stickler for schedules anyway, but pre-existing routines and rituals are likely to get shaken up over this week. on the bright side, money situations may see improvements and mars finally moving into gemini is at minimum a relief, and more likely a nice little flirtation that might become more.

capricorn: so maybe it's not the most romantic period of your life or maybe your creative endeavors flop or even backfire. whatever, let it just be fun, don't hang your hat on it. on the bright side a full moon in your sign puts a nice glow on you and illuminates your best qualities, for yourself and for others to see.

aquarius: you are one of the signs that will most need to brace for this mars-uranus transit. don't fall prey to the bad press but at the same time, take it seriously. use it to empower yourself, not to wallow in a victim mentality, even if you are truly victimized (which i hope you are not!) it is not a week for major risks or anything too "out there."

pisces: you may find yourself quicker than usual to fly off the handle. avoid arguments and disagreements this week and resist any temptation to hide behind an internet persona or other form of anonymity. any writing you do for a little while should remain private, don't even text too much. instead put your focus on self care and building your home. you can get chatty and friendly again later.

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

One thing that I absolutely love is how in those god awful light novels, the other characters tell other people how Bakugou's totally the best even though he could go kick rocks.

"Forgiving was just a small deed for Midoriya." Kirishima, after being explicitly told that Izuku was a victim of Quirk related bullying at the hands of Bakugou. Then right after, Bakugou's behavior gets them kicked out of where they're studying... and Bakugou blames Izuku for this.

"Katsuki isn't Katsuki without his bad words." Uraraka, after a kid tells her that the way Bakugou treated her at the Sports Festival was wrong. She says he was taking her seriously, even though he clearly and explicitly wasn't.

*Also, Bakugou literally referred to people helping others solely out of kindness as "sickening", and explicitly compares his relationship with Izuku to Shoto and Endeavor's relationship... so take that however you want.

Oh god, the light novels and OVAs somehow make MHA worse. Remember how Shota paired Eri, a trauma victim, with Katsuki so that Katsuki could learn how to behave around kids? Or how about when Shota threw an entire building on his students as one of his ‘logical ruses’? Or maybe you remember that one Drama CD where some perverted dude takes control of four minors and has them sexually assault one another? There’s also that one time where Miruko called Izuku useless and praised Katsuki for his aggressive behavior…

Simply put, a lot of the bonus content for MHA really doesn’t make canon look any better. In fact, I’d say it makes things far worse.

Somehow Vigilantes made it out relatively fine though. In fact, I’d say it’s well written and enjoyable. If you want a series that treats its MC and side characters with respect, has a quirkless vigilante who’s tough as hell (bro destroyed Stain in a fight and kept up with Shota to the point where heprobably would’ve beaten him if the fight didn’t end), and neat villain ideas, then I’d recommend picking up Vigilantes.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Taking Care

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit, RAPE/NON-CON

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi and Shigaraki didn't start their working relationship off on the best foot, and to be perfectly honest, his view of his new boss isn't exactly favorable. But Shigaraki does seem to be trying to do better by the League, and him, in his own way. It's probably not his fault that he was socialized to be a total creep too. Dabi really shouldn't have given him the benefit of the doubt.

Contents: RAPE/NON-CON, brief descriptions of violence and vomiting, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, non-consensual body modification, natural lubrication, anal sex, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, creampie, brief feminization, molestation, abusive relationships, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, yandere!Shigaraki, dead dove: do not eat

Word Count: 10871

He is never gonna say that he 'hit it off' with the boss when they first met. Though, Dabi will say that's in part to the fact he could very clearly tell that Shigaraki wasn't the boss. He was just another over-confident jackass who had a bigger villain actually calling the shots from the shadows, and Dabi can't stand working with people like that. The guy's fucking second was giving him orders and trying to coach him into making smarter choices in his villainy and stepped in and stopped their fight before they could even really get started, and Dabi was left with a bad taste in his mouth and with the constant thought that the boss was a little pathetic. But the League was offering room and board, and a chance to fuck with UA again, even targeting his father's perfect creation, and Dabi had stuck around anyway. 

And for a month, his image of who Shigaraki was did not get any more flattering. He was absolutely a puppet for AFO and a spoiled brat on top of that. He felt entitled to anything he wanted and no one had ever told him 'no' or had shown him how that wasn't how the world actually worked. Well. It's not how the world is supposed to work, but Shigaraki does get whatever he wants as long as he proves to AFO he actually put at least a tiny crumb of effort into why he wants whatever it is that he's asking after. Dabi hates that too, but he keeps his mouth shut. The rest of the League is made of people so clearly desperate for somewhere to belong, and wanting to ensure their youngest members aren't exposed to the truly heinous parts of this world, that they are softening the work for them and trying to grow into a close-knit crew. But Dabi doesn't have the time or any interest in that bullshit. If he's joining a crew backed by AFO it's all going to be in service of ensuring that he burns Endeavor alive. He doesn't bother 'bonding' with the rest of them, he just works to ensure that he gets what he wants out of this arrangement. 

He feels like that might be happening when Shigaraki ends up making him the leader for the summer camp job. He isn't sure why he chose him over Compress, but he doesn't give a shit if it means he gets to be in control of how they hit the camp and who they go after primarily. He can make sure he's the one to see Shoto. The downside of all of this is that he also has to spend long hours planning with Shigaraki. They do most of it after the others have cleared out or gone to bed for the night, assessing their skills during the day, and planning around them at night where they don't have to worry about them confusing brainstorming for their final orders. Dabi doesn't love spending hours with Duster at night, but at least when they aren't being watched by AFO or Kurogiri, Shigaraki forces himself to behave a bit better. He acts more like an adult and less like the teenager he still is. 

It's during one of those late night planning sessions Dabi stretches, cracking his back, and feels his shirt ride up a bit. When he glances back, he can see that Duster is watching him. It's automatic to flip him off as he speaks, "What are you staring at, handjob?" 

"How far do your scars go?" And Shigaraki, among many other things, is incredibly blunt, so Dabi really isn't surprised that he'd asked. 

"None of your business, weirdo." They're sitting at the bar and he's ready to get up and head to bed, the two of them having gotten to a good stopping point for the night, when Shigaraki leans over and cages Dabi against the edge. He automatically tries to twist away, his temperature spiking hotter, as four cool fingers brush his side and start to push up his shirt. "What the fuck--" 

"Hold still or I may slip." Shigaraki's voice is flat and almost bored as he slides Dabi's shirt up his chest and side, red eyes dragging over him, far too intense for the tone he'd used. Dabi goes stock still as his deadly hand moves up his body until his shirt is pressed up beneath his arm, and Shigaraki hums, the other palm moving over his skin. He doesn't know what the other wants from him but he really doesn't want to end up dead because he's careless with his quirk. "You're already so damaged--" Dabi didn't know he could bristle any further, but he feels smoke and sparks behind his tongue as he grits his teeth. "If I don't know how bad it is, then I can't help make sure it doesn't get any worse." He brushes his thumb gently over one of the lines of staples curving over his side, and Dabi's anger, his breath, catches in the back of his throat. 

That's what this is? Concern? Some deeply weird, fucked up version of it from how poorly socialized Shigaraki is, but still. Concern all the same. Duster's hand moves over his chest, flicking his thumb over his nipple with a little snort as he does, sending an uncomfortable twinge across his nerves as the piercing there makes him so sensitive the bud hardens immediately. He only has three fingers against him then, and Dabi feels safe enough to bat away the touch. 

"Hands off, freak. I don't need you to take care of me. I know what I can handle." 

"I'm going to take care of you anyway." Shigaraki tells him without a hint of irony. "So you can tell me what you need, or I can figure it out for myself." He doesn't stop Dabi as he straightens his shirt and slips from the stool, fully intending to go upstairs and get stoned before going to sleep. 

"Whatever." He doesn't want Shigaraki, AFO, or the League to know anything about him. It'll just make it harder to escape them if he decides they aren't his best option in the long run. He heads upstairs and Shigaraki doesn't stop him. 

///

After that, though, he starts to notice little things that change around the base. Only he and the vampire kid are living here for the time being, and he really doubts she's the one who put a fancy antibiotic wound cream in the medicine cabinet of their shared bathroom, sitting right next to his toothbrush. For a second, out of sheer stubbornness, Dabi considers ignoring it. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he doesn't need a brat like Shigaraki thinking that he's reliant on him for anything. But the logical part of his mind knows that he should take whatever help he can get. The whole point of being here is to get strong enough to kill his father. If he wants to do that then having his skin falling off is only going to make it more difficult. 

He starts to use the wound cream and realizes over the course of a week and the wave of exhaustion and relief that comes in its wake, that keeping his body at a low fever was only keeping weak infections at bay. They were still there and fighting to really make him sick for, well, he's guessing it's been a long time. But the medicine actually kills them and starts to let him heal a bit. Which, in turn, makes him fucking exhausted and starving all the time. He's been trying to eat better here now that he has access to non-spoiled food readily all the time, but he has an appetite for the first time since he was a kid. 

And he doesn't mention that, doesn't usually eat around the others, but he starts to notice the fridge and pantry is stocked with more and more every week. Healthy things, for the most part, but tons of protein bars, fruit, and the like, some of which he recognizes as brands that his father and other heroes endorsed because they helped them to put on and maintain a healthy weight and muscle mass. Dabi is thin as a rail, a side-effect from three years in a coma and seven starving on the streets, but maybe... maybe he can put on a little more muscle if he takes advantage of this. So he uses his phone to look up how to recover from long-term malnutrition and how to safely get his body used to a calorie surplus instead of a deficit. 

And about two weeks after Shigaraki felt him up while they were alone, he tells the entire group that they have a doctor-- the one who makes nomu, but is apparently a real doctor during office hours-- who is happy to see them all for check-ups. Dabi wants to be annoyed about that, but Magne perks up immediately and asks when the soonest she can get in is. So maybe, just maybe, this isn't actually Duster taking the opportunity to show him that he absolutely meant what he said before. Maybe he just actually wants to make sure they're in better condition than the first group he took to UA was. 

It doesn't mean he isn't acutely aware of how smug Shigaraki seems when Twice is bitching a few weeks later as he re-takes Dabi's measurements, the old ones no longer sufficient because of how much healthier he's gotten since he took them before. 

///

Hitting the summer camp is exhilarating. Getting to overcome forty students and six pros with a crew of nine outshines whatever the fuck Shigaraki had been trying to do in his original debut. Being able to snatch their main target and getting to stand there and watch his brother, his father's perfect creation, desperate and failing, had put a delight under his skin he wouldn't have words for if he ever were asked to describe it. But he locks that away and acts as unaffected as he always strives for, especially with AFO breathing down their neck as they get back to base. 

They get the kid situated, debrief, prep for the next steps of their plan, and try to get some rest. Even without three of their number returning, it was a resounding success as far as their leader and his teacher are concerned. 

And when that all falls apart, Dabi is out for the majority of the fight. 

He wakes up, his head throbbing, the room spinning, and desperately needing to puke, which he does almost immediately, barely managing to roll onto his side to keep from choking on it, and definitely splashing the side of Duster's sneaks with sick. But he doesn't get decayed for that. Shig just gives him a tissue from his coat pocket and reaches over for a water bottle. He doesn't have any pain medicine, not that Dabi expected that given they're hiding out in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse, but it would have been a nice surprise. He sits up a little, and Shigaraki helps him, one hand staying at the back of his neck, palm cool, and thumb rubbing soothing circles there like that could help take away the ache in his skull. 

Dabi swishes the first sip around in his mouth and spits further away from them to clear the taste before actually drinking some of the water and wiping up his mouth. "Sorry," because he might not like the guy most of the time, but he doesn't hate him enough to think he deserves to get puked on when he clearly got him out of getting arrested while he was knocked out. "What happened?" 

Duster reaches over and sticks a hand into Dabi's coat pocket, which even through his headache, sends a mixture of amusement and annoyance through him, before he draws out his cigs. And yeah, fine, he could definitely use one of those too. He sets a spark on his finger and lights up for them both, and Shigaraki actually takes his mask off so he can smoke before he starts to speak. 

///

Which is how the kind of good thing that the League had going, turns to absolute shit. He doesn't hesitate to stress that them traveling in a big group like this is going to make it damn near impossible for them to actually move without being spotted, and since they're currently going to be on a cross-country tour to try and find someone who will actually give them an ounce of the resources that AFO promised to his supposed successor, splitting up is their best option. If he does this entirely so he can make sure he is as far away from the rest of them as possible as they get a taste of the way that he's been living for the past seven years, then that's his business. But Shigaraki only lets him go under the guise of 'recruiting', like they could get anyone that wasn't complete trash to join up with them now. 

But that's what he's off doing when Shigaraki calls him in the middle of the night. He killed a few potential recruits today, using his flames to burn their heads from their shoulders, and going through their pockets yielded him enough cash to get a motel for the night and a real meal, so he's honestly doing better than he has been for a while, and it's deeply tempted to not answer his phone and just enjoy the rest of his night in limited luxury. But when the first call goes to voicemail, it immediately starts ringing again so he huffs and snags it off the sheets, cig between his lips and taking a deep pull before he answers, 

"What, Shigaraki?"

There's a slight pause and then he hears Shigaraki let out a slow, low breath. "Magne's dead."

And Dabi is suddenly a lot less annoyed with the call. 

Shig explains what happened, Twice not communicating with him or Duster, Overhaul being more than they thought they were getting involved with, Magne and Compress rushing in to defend the group, and Magne being splattered all across the warehouse. It sounds horrifying and all, and the group is apparently using the last of their funds on a back alley medic for Compress so that he doesn't bleed out or die of an infection. 

"What about after?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Once Compress is stable-- What are you doing after?" There's another pause and Dabi feels his temperature starting to creep a bit higher. "The fucking dregs of the Yakuza just killed and injured members of your crew-- if anyone finds out about that after the shitshow you and your teacher put on in Kamino, then we are all fucked. The League has already lost almost all of our credibility after you used us to build it up again after your first fuckup at UA." 

"Dabi--" And he can hear him scratching at his skin, can hear that venom starting to build in his voice that usually precedes one of his temper tantrums. But Dabi isn't Kurogiri or All For One, and he's not in this game to cater to anyone else's ego ever again. 

"Shut the fuck up." He snaps before the other can get going, and the hiss of his voice actually does stop the other man in his tracks. "You're the leader, no more 'second tries', no more 'do-overs', no more fucking training wheels. You either figure out how to fucking lead this group, do what you fucking said you were going to, and be worth our time-- or you cut us loose, Shigaraki. We aren't just characters in your games that you can move around however you feel like. We're your crew, you have a responsibility to take care of us and when you don't-- Your actions have consequences, and it's about fucking time you grow up and start acting like it." He doesn't even wait to see how that lands. He hangs up, turns off his phone, and goes to take a cold shower before he literally sets himself on fire again from his fury. 

///

He doesn't hear from Shigaraki or the rest of the League for nearly a month. Instead he gives up on the pretense of recruiting for the League, goes back to his old haunts and takes whatever arson jobs he can get. Unsurprisingly, after word has spread about what he did at the summer camp, he has a lot more opportunities for those kinds of jobs than he did before. Dabi doesn't like that this is what he's left doing, but he will do whatever he needs to in order to survive. He just didn't think he would be back in survival mode so soon. He thought that he was finally setting himself up to be the monster he always promised his father he would come back as. But he is making due. As fucking always. 

He probably should have ditched the phone that he was given, but he figures that if Shigaraki is so useless, then it's unlikely that he'll have gotten back any of the resources he needs in order to use it to track him. And he's not in the position to throw out a perfectly good phone when he's still squatting in abandoned buildings for at least three nights a week when he can't find or afford a shady enough motel to stay in. Dabi is in an empty apartment building, glass and worse is scattered across the first floor, and the the windows are all boarded up, but he has a pretty good idea of when a building has been in disrepair for long enough that it's likely to fall on his head, and he figures it's safe enough to go up a few levels. He almost laughs when he finds a door someone locked that whoever went through the place and cleared out, didn't bother to open, and he melts the handle right off and goes inside. The lock and whatever fear of the upper levels other people had, kept this room from being trashed, and he throws his backpack into a corner of the one room that has carpet. It's not much, but he'll be happy to have something soft under him besides his coat. 

He's settling in for the night, a protein bar shoved between his teeth as he uses his hand-crank battery pack so that his phone will be able to charge while he's sleeping, when said device begins to ring. It does that occasionally, but it's usually someone contacting him for a new arson job. This is the first time he's seen Shigaraki's name appear on his caller ID in ages. Dabi sincerely considers not bothering to answer him. It's an impulse, a whim, maybe a little bit of hubris because he's curious to see if Duster is calling to grovel for him to come back because everything's falling apart even worse since he left, but he answers anyway.

"What do you want, Shigaraki?"

"Dabi," And Shig sounds a little breathless for a second, and Dabi is about to hang up because if he is being chased down by heroes or something, Dabi is going to burn his phone and chuck it out of the nearest window. "I've been working on making sure that the League gets reparations for what happened to Magne and Compress. We're on the verge of using the heroes to destroy the Yakuza and obtaining a new weapon that is capable of destroying quirks." He takes a breath and continues, more evenly, "In two days we're going to destroy the last of the Yakuza on a public stage, we can do that without you, but I want you with me."

There's something about the intensity in his voice, something that eclipses anything that he heard from him in Kamino, and the part of his mind that has been looking out and trying to protect him since he ended up on the streets, stirs restlessly in the back of his mind. But the more immediate part of him is curious, if nothing else. "How exactly are you gonna do that, Duster?"

And Shigaraki starts to explain his plan and what the League have been up to in his absence.

///

Two days later he is warring with the exhilaration in his body from putting on such a display, seeing Shigaraki and Compress tear Overhaul's arms off, and the constant, and heavy motion sickness that keeps going through him from Spinner's awful driving. It's really a lot, and he's so glad that when they lose the cops and teleport to the base that Shigaraki and the others have been using-- an empty administration building on the edge of an abandoned warehouse district that has two shower stalls in the boys and girls' bathrooms and that they've scrounged around to find any vague cushioned furniture so they would have something better than the floor to sleep on-- Toga and Twice really do want to go shower and recenter themselves after a month undercover in a high-stress environment before the League celebrates the end of such a long plan that's finally come to fruition. Spinner goes to ditch the car and Compress goes to use his still lightning fast sticky-fingers, and his maskless face to go steal them some libations and food for the celebration. Which means he somehow ends up 'alone' with Shigaraki. 

He hasn't been alone with Shigaraki since he walked into this shitty little hideout yesterday afternoon, and that had been kind of by design. He still doesn't know what to think about the fact that the rest of the League treated him like he's been out trying to recruit and gather resources for the group this whole time, like he didn't just fully abandon them and make his own way when he realized how utterly fucked they would be under Shigaraki's leadership without AFO at least funding them in their downtime to make that worth it. He is fully planning on just going into the corner and taking a nap while Duster plays his game or something, when Shigaraki catches him with four fingers around his wrist. Dabi's temperature creeps up, ready to turn the hand into ash if he tries to close his fingers around his wrist. 

"Let go." 

"You're not going to leave again." He tells him, and Dabi is reminded again that he and the League are the first people Shigaraki has ever had to deal with who could say 'no' to him if they wanted to. He thinks this socially inept loser is actually asking him, maybe pleading, for him to stay after being down a valuable player for over a month. 

Dabi eyes him. Shigaraki isn't wearing his mask at the moment and his eyes are intense as they search his face. He pulls at his hand, and Shig's grip tightens for a second before he lets go. But his fingers follow his skin even as he pulls away, the pads of his fingers brushing down the back of his hand. "Depends on if you can make this arrangement worth my time again." 

"I'll be worth it." He promises. "I'll take care of you." 

The intensity of the words makes something in him wary, but a larger part does feel some measure of smug satisfaction that his words, of all things, were what were able to snap Shigaraki from the pampered delusion of his youth. Good. Still. Dabi scoffs and rolls his eyes, going to claim the cushiest couch for himself. "Yeah? We'll see about that, Duster." He grumbles before getting on the couch and turning away from him. He fully intends to sleep while he can. The rest of the League hasn't figured out that they need to take rest whenever they can get it because at any second they could be on the run, but that's not his responsibility to teach them. 

Duster leaves him be as he curls up, but Dabi swears he feels his eyes on him the entire time it takes for him to actually pass out.

///

He does stick with the League after that. He isn't sure he meant to, but Shigaraki always keeps him close. He never lets on to the others that Dabi is always a split second from abandoning them, and they seem to think he's part of their big happy 'family'. He's only allowed to go out recruiting when the League is getting ready to leave a location, and then he meets up with hopefuls in an assigned location that Shigaraki has picked out, close enough for the League to be nearby, just in case he needs assistance. Dabi can't say he loves being babied, but he understands why Shigaraki and the rest of the League are so worried about him going off on his own. He just hopes they get over it soon as he burns another group of eight hopefuls to death. He uses the last of his flames to light a cig and starts to head down the alley. 

"Well, if that's the rejection process, I might have my work cut out for me." He doesn't recognize the voice immediately, and that means he isn't shy about sending a blast off in that direction so hot that he knows it can cause concrete to crumble. There's a blur of red and yellow and his eyes track it to the opposite end of the building, a blur that he is not happy about seeing is the number two hero lands there. He has his hands up in surrender as he crouches on the edge of the building, a dumb, goofy smile on his lips. "Whoa there, hot stuff! I came for a chat, and you're really gonna blow both our covers if you set fire to half of the street." 

"Back off hero, or I'll turn you into fried chicken." 

"That is my favorite food, but not really what I'm going for." He resituates himself on the edge of the building, sitting on the ledge and kicking his feet like he's got nothing to worry about. Like Dabi doesn't know that birds burn. "I was hoping we could have a chat about how interested the League of Villains would be in having a hero in their ranks." 

And Dabi knows heroes better than any of the League. He knows the awful things they get up to behind closed doors, he knows how corrupt the HPSC is, and he knows that no matter how talented he is, Hawks should have never climbed the charts so quickly after his debut, and definitely didn't do it without someone's help. "You want to join the League?" He wonders if the others are close enough today to hear that. 

"Sure do, hot stuff. I--" he definitely has his whole speech ready to go and whatever, but Dabi cuts him off. 

"Then you can go through our official channels and prove you’re worth my time." He takes a few steps forward, very clearly still heading to leave. "You start proving you want a working relationship by letting me fucking leave." And the bird's wings fluff a little, twitching with his agitation as this very clearly doesn't go the way he was trained to expect it would. Dabi raises a brow at him and ashes his cig. 

"And how do I go through your 'official' channels?" 

"If you're worth the League's time, then you'll figure that out like even those ash smears did, pigeon." He says blandly and starts to walk. 

Thankfully, Hawks lets him go, and Dabi makes sure he's lost his tail before he goes back to the others. 

///

He's not expecting Shigaraki to look half-crazed when he gets back to base, but as soon as he's inside, the other man is catching his wrist and dragging him right off into the nearest mostly private area in the base. Duster has gotten worse and worse about invading his personal space, but he doesn't put up a fight this time as he cages him up against a wall, eyes wide and desperate as they look at him like he doesn't know if Dabi is real. 

"You aren't going out on any more recruitment jobs, you're staying with me." 

"If I don't go out you're gonna have to send Twice, and we all know how well that went last time." He only lets himself be that cruel because he knows that no one else is around. "Besides, having a spy-- even an untrustworthy one-- could help us get access to more--" 

"No." And he has never heard or seen Shigaraki have such vitriol in a word, not even when talking about destroying All Might at the beginning. "He's the fastest hero in Japan. He could have killed you, he could have taken you away, I am not risking losing you, Dabi. We're leaving tonight, and you're going to stay close so that I can keep you safe." 

A part of Dabi really wants to protest that. He wants to snap at Shigaraki and tell him that he doesn't need to be watched like he can't take care of himself, but there's another part that can't help feeling a little... good from how protective Duster has been since he started to get his shit together. He may have swung hard in the opposite direction of treating the League like pawns, but the fact he changed his outlook at all means that he really is listening to them when they talk. He needs to find a happy medium, but Dabi thinks he will the longer that he has to figure things out. "...Fine." It's not like he really thought Hawks was a good idea. 

Duster lets out a breath, slow and even, and hides away the desperate thing he just showed him. Dabi expects that to be it, but Shig reaches for his face. He's pretty sure he's the only one who Shigaraki touches so much, but he tries to ignore that as his cool knuckles brush over the back of his cheek. "Stay with me?" 

"You're such a freak. I'm not going anywhere." He rolls his eyes, batting away his hand before he feels how his temperature started to creep higher. 

But he keeps his word. He doesn't go out recruiting again, he ignores the calls from an unknown number that try to come through, he sticks with the League. Shigaraki always seems to be hovering around him and in his space, orbiting him like he's the center of his whole world and the new version of himself and the organization that he's starting to build. Dabi can't say he hates that. He hasn't been important to anyone for so long, so he stays, and the League grows, and Shigaraki changes. 

///

They take over the MLA, they heal from their injuries, they are able to gather resources and plan their attack. And when they do, it's with Shigaraki fully nomu, with all of AFO's quirks at his disposal. It's a year of planning and everything else, but in one year, they are ready for their war. It only takes Shigaraki one hour to kill Best Jeanist, Hawks, Eraser Head, Mirko, and half a dozen other less well-known heroes. He even harvests the ones that he can, their broken bodies being snatched from the battlefield by the doctor for future nomu. And in the middle of all of that, Shigaraki having teleported around to find his targets and get the heroes more and more on edge and scrambling, their soldiers were moving in, destroying local police and hero agencies, cutting into infrastructure and wiping out power in large sections of the country. But in all the ones that do still have power, when Endeavor is called to the HPSC building because the world is burning all around them, Dabi airs his video, he tells the world his name. 

And he and Endeavor die together just the way he'd always planned. 

///

There is a persistent, and unfamiliar, ache under his skin. The air feels like it's a little too warm, and there is a heavy exhaustion throughout him. Hands move over his skin, firm and bringing with them a soft towel that he realizes is wiping away something from his body that feels oily and is filling his nose with an unfamiliar chemical smell. But he doesn't hurt. All he remembers from the moment just after he watched his blue flames boil Enji's eyes out of his skull until the sockets were spilling cerulean fire, was a sharp satisfaction and an overwhelming pain as they both crumbled away to ash. He opens his eyes, surprised that he still has his, and finds himself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The lights aren't too high, and he tries to figure out what's going on. 

Shigaraki is leaning over him, washing away a thin purple liquid from his naked skin, and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. He was definitely missing limbs by the time he had his father pinned, his skin was gone in so many places. But it wasn't smooth and black like it is now. There are patches of skin, like there were before, that are still his original skin tone, but the rest of it doesn't look like the knotted scar tissue he knows to expect. There are no staples either, just faint lines of pink scars around where the different sections meet.

"You're finally awake, firefly." Duster's voice is breathless as he sees his eyes open, as he shifts to feel how this is his body, he can feel it all, can see himself. 

"What--" 

Shigaraki's hand curls around the back of his neck and Dabi is speechless as he leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "It doesn't matter. You're here, and I promise I'm never going to stop taking care of you." He rests their foreheads together, and Dabi is still and silent because he has no idea what he should do as he grapples with the fact he's still alive. 

///

Shigaraki, seeing as Dabi's awake, helps him into a fancy bathroom off of the side of the lavish room, making him sit on a shower stool, but letting him wash away the lingering liquid as he calls in the doctor. Dabi knows what happened to him before he speaks to Ujiko. Looking in the mirror, seeing the sections of his body that have the distinct skin of a nomu, seeing out of eyes he's certain should have been destroyed-- he knows that Shigaraki or someone must have pulled him out of the crater that was supposed to be his and Enji's gravesite, and send him to be fixed. They brought him back from the brink of death. Dabi isn't sure if he's happy about that or not. 

But he cleans himself up and submits himself to testing. He's the same kind of nomu Shigaraki is. His physical strength will be insane, he shouldn't have any worries about rejecting the other tissue that was grafted on him. He will be ageless, healthy, and stable for as long as he lives, and as long as he checks in with the doctor from time to time if he does notice anything strange. And then the doc leaves and it's just him and Shigaraki alone again. There's a strange numbness that has gone through him throughout his waking and he doesn't know where to even start with it. All he manages to do is turn to Duster and ask, 

"What happened?" 

Shigaraki threads their fingers together, no longer needing to worry about his quirk destroying anything he doesn't want it to, and smiles at him, warmer and realer than any he's ever seen on the other man's face before. "We won, firefly." 

///

He finds out over the course of the next two weeks that the League, Shigaraki, didn't just win, he devastated Japan, and every foreign military that tried to come into the country to stop him. He ensured that all of his people would have exactly what they needed and over the course of the twenty-two months that Dabi was in the tank and being treated by the doctor, Shigaraki has started rebuilding Japan with himself as its king. He is actually the king now, and the only heroes left in the country are the ones who are being systematically hunted down by his people. He took the world for himself and shattered it into pieces, but he's creating something new now. The others are all off doing their own work to those ends, and none of them know about Dabi surviving what was supposed to be his final fight. 

"I knew I would bring you back," Duster tells him. They're sitting out on the porch that wraps around Shigaraki's house. It's not a palace, though it's essentially treated as such by the rest of the world, it's just a nice house sitting on top of a mountain. On top of Sekoto Peak. Because Shigaraki wanted something here for him after finding out who he was. They don't have to stay here if he doesn't want to, they can go anywhere, he can have whatever he wants. But Dabi just feels numb. He wasn't supposed to live to see the end of the war, the rebuilding efforts, and it feels like every ounce of drive that was in him from before has been stolen away. He keeps wondering if he could burn himself again faster than this new body could regenerate. He wonders even if he did, if Shigaraki would just spend another two years fixing him. "But I didn't know how long it would take. I wanted them to go out and build their own lives now that they can without fear." 

Shigaraki is holding his hand. He holds his hand a lot. Runs his knuckles over the back of his cheek, catches him around the back of his neck and presses kisses to his forehead. Dabi keeps meaning to rebuff whatever weird familiarity Shigaraki is displaying, but he feels like all the things he notices about his surroundings are being filtered in through a fog, and he forgets about saying something because he doesn't even think to until hours after the touch happened.

"I can call them back, when you're ready to see them." 

Dabi doesn't know if he's ever going to be ready for that. He hasn't even asked what happened to the rest of his family after he killed Endeavor, and Shigaraki hasn't offered the information either. If he can't manage that, he doesn't know how he's going to even pretend to not be numb when the others see him. 

///

He's been awake for a month in this haze, so thick that he actually did ask Shigaraki to bring the doctor back again because he was kind of worried that his brain was going the way that the gray and black nomus do. But Ujiko had just looked at him with barely constrained pity and informed him he was showing symptoms of depression. Dabi had let out a bark of laughter at that, and it was the first time he'd laughed since he woke up. It felt like glass shards in his throat, and did not convince anyone that he was alright. He tries to get given work to do, something, anything to try and make this awful numbness go away. But working on how to run a country is no more or less exciting than running the PLF, especially since Shigaraki is still keeping him secret. 

He tries to train, and when Duster sees him going outside, he catches both of his hands and pulls him to a stop. 

"What?" He asks, barely registering it as he pulls him in closer, and brings his knuckles up to his lips. He needs to tell Shigaraki to stop doing that. 

"You can't train, firefly." 

"Why not?" 

"After how badly you hurt yourself, do you really think I would let you have your quirk?" Shigaraki says, pressing his cheek to his knuckles. "No, precious. You can have it back when you're all better and I know I can trust you again." 

And the first flicker of something cuts through his numbness. A sharp, hot indignation that-- that doesn't make his temperature creep higher from his quirk. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He snaps, yanking his hands away from the other. "You don't get to choose if I deserve my quirk or not--" that anger, that spark, takes away the numbness that he has been drowning in for so long now. "You don't get to decide if I live or die! You shouldn't have brought me back! I wanted to die! I meant to die! You took everything from me!" His face doesn't hurt when the tears start to slip down his cheeks and he wipes at his cheek with horror, seeing translucent, healthy tears on the back of his hand. Duster took away every inch of him, replaced the things that were broken but were his, with something that so clearly–

Shigaraki catches his wrist again, squeezing hard enough that Dabi gasps as he feels his bones grind against each other as he does it. Red eyes burn into his as he yanks Dabi closer, his other hand clasping around the opposite bicep in the same bruising grip. "I took care of you. I took care of the League. I made certain that you would be safe. You're mine," he tells him, and there is a madness in his eyes as he says it. Something that puts a sharp spike of fear in him and-- and reminds him of how his father used to look at his mother before Shoto was born. 

Dabi only lets out a thin whimper, a sound he's never heard himself make before as he's held helpless in Shigaraki's grip. It doesn't matter if they're the same breed of nomu, Shigaraki has All For One, he's holding him. He could kill Dabi right now if he wanted. And then he could bring him back and do it again. 

The mania in his eyes dulls a bit. He pushes it away, and they go to that unbearable softness again. Duster sighs quietly and loosens his grip before shifting a hand to his chin. "I know that you're not feeling well, precious." He says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, breaking a stream of his tears. "I'm sorry for yelling. Why don't you come with me to the kitchen and I'll make you some tea?" 

Dabi tests his limits, and is allowed to pull out of his grip. He doesn't have words as he shakes his head slightly and flees back to his room, but at least Shigaraki doesn't stop him from going.

///

It takes him hours after dark for him to be able to curl up in his bed and try to go to sleep. He kept ignoring Shigaraki's weird behaviors before because he just thought the guy was poorly socialized, but now he realizes that he's the only one he touched like that. That he never did it in front of any of the others either. He doesn't know what the others would think about this, but he wants out now. He just doesn't know how he's going to get it. Shigaraki owns Japan. He's in charge of everything, which means that unless he is willing to learn how to get by on his physical strength alone, lose his quirk forever, and be willing to kill the League and whoever else Duster sends after him, there is nowhere in all of Japan where he can go. 

He isn't asleep, not when those thoughts are rolling around in his head, but he is dazed and bleary when all of the sudden his bed dips. Dabi jolts, turning, trying to lash out with his quirk, and not finding it again as Shigaraki gets into bed with him. He catches his arm as he swings it towards him and barely blinks before he leans over him, his other hand against the mattress and caging him in. "It's just me, precious." 

A sharp fear he's never felt before starts in his gut and Dabi tries to pull his hand away, but he's held in place so that he can't sit up, "Shigaraki, get out of my room." His voice sounds thinner with that fear. He needs to break whatever delusional claim the other man thinks he has over him before this gets any more out of hand. "I don't want you in here." 

"I know you're upset, sweetheart," Dabi is far more than that when Shigaraki calls him that as he shifts closer. He tries to squirm out from under him, but the other man is so much stronger than him, and he keeps him exactly where he wants him on the bed as he forces a leg up between one of Dabi's own and pins him to the bed with his weight. Terror sears across his nerves and he tries to fight harder, tries to tap into the strength that this body is supposed to have, but he doesn't make the other flinch in the slightest as he does. "But I don't want you to go to bed angry." With him pinned from the waist down, Shigaraki reaches for his chin and holds him still. "I know this isn't what you planned, I know that taking away your quirk doesn't seem fair, but, precious, can you blame me?" 

He sounds like this is all perfectly reasonable, like Dabi is the one who is being insane. 

"When you had it before, you were going to kill yourself, baby. You were going to leave me. After you promised you weren't going anywhere." He leans closer and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. "You said you would stay, firefly." There is a sharper ache in the look that he gives him now. "I need you with me, precious." He doesn't wait for Dabi to try to find his words, he just holds him still as his lips seal over his. 

Dabi keeps his lips pressed tight, he tries to turn away, but the grip on his chin holds him still as Duster kisses his mouth. He kisses him like this is something he's been waiting to do for so long, and a horrible sickness goes through him as he wonders if he did wait to do this, or if the reason he had been so unfazed by cleaning him up and helping him shower, was because he's already had his fill of his body while he was sleeping. Shigaraki doesn't care how unresponsive he is, he shifts his fingers up his jaw so he can press hard at the hinge of it, until Dabi knows his bones will break, or he'll have to open his mouth. The sharp pain is enough to have his eyes watering again, and his mouth opens with a sob. 

Shigaraki doesn't care. He licks into his mouth, holding his jaw open so that Dabi can't even try to bite him, as he licks deep inside. Duster takes like cold rain, and Dabi feels like that flavor is somehow sinking through his skin and all the way down to his bones. He wishes he were still feeling so numb as he lets go of Dabi's wrist to shift closer instead. Dabi tries to push against him, tries to pull on his hair or scratch his nails through his shirt, he tries to get away. He tries. Shigaraki doesn't even seem to notice. 

He pulls away, resting their foreheads together. "I've been waiting for you for so long, precious. I was so scared that I wouldn't get to make this new world for you."

Dabi shakes his head, weakly, tears dripping off his cheeks. "Shigaraki, let go of me, please." 

"Never again, firefly." He promises, kissing at the tracks of them again. "The whole world is mine now, and I've been waiting so long to share it with you." He strokes his thumb over his cheek and kisses the edge of his lips. "My queen." 

"I'm not yours--" Dabi yelps as pain lances through his cheek. It's not the same as burning, not the same as a bruise or broken bone. It feels different and wrong. And the pain comes with a soft crack as his skin shatters under the effects of Decay. He tries to thrash away, and Shigaraki holds him to the bed, but doesn't make his head crumble into nothing as he lets out a strangled cry. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, precious. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry." Shigaraki grabs him again, not in the same places as before, catching him in a hug and pulling him in, onto their sides so that he can hold him close, tucking Dabi's head against his chest as he strokes his hair and Dabi sobs, his own hand going to his shattered skin as he shakes. It takes about half an hour for the new healing to knit his skin back together, and he can't stop crying the whole time. He cries for his quirk, he cries for the body that hasn't been his own since the moment he was conceived, he cries for the end he was denied so someone else could use him for their twisted delusion. He cries and cries, and Shigaraki holds him and strokes his hair. He kisses the top of his head, and he tells him softly, again and again, "It's alright, precious. Nothing is ever going to hurt you again. I'm going to keep you safe, baby boy. It's all going to get better, firefly. I love you so much." 

It takes a long time for him to find words again, and when he does he only manages to say the other's name. "S-Shigaraki--" because he is terrified if he tries to protest again, if he tries to tell him this isn't love, this is something sick and twisted, that he'll be hurt again. 

Duster doesn't make him find words, he just tries to pull him into whatever soft hazy place he believes that he's living in, by kissing him again. He kisses him over and over, only parting enough for him to suck in a breath and let it back out on a fresh sob as his hands start to move over his body. He hadn't really dressed for bed, he'd just taken off his t-shirt and lounge pants and climbed in, and Shigaraki takes advantage of every inch of his naked skin. His hands move over his back, stroking around his sides and up to his chest to tease at his nipples. His piercings were all removed when he was in the tank, but his nerves, all of the new nerves all over his body that aren't broken and constantly screaming his pain, they somehow feel even more sensitive than before. 

Dabi's stomach floods with sickness as he realizes what he's angling for to put this 'argument' to bed, to prove how much he 'loves' him. "Shigaraki--" 

"Use my first name, precious. I want to hear it. I've been waiting so long to hear your pretty voice again, sweetheart." He breathes against Dabi's lips desperately as he kisses him again as he pushes him back onto his back, this time forcing Dabi's thighs wide around his hips. He can't help it when his breath hitches again as he feels Shigaraki's cock pressing against his as he's forced to this angle. He hates himself for the way that a jolt of pleasure goes through him there even as this only makes his fear sharper. 

"Tomura, please, I don't--" He pinches a little more roughly at Dabi's nipples and he whimpers but shuts up. Shigaraki wants to play this game. He wants to pretend, and he's going to make Dabi pretend too if he doesn't want this violation to be as physically painful as it already is in other ways as Shigaraki licks and nips along his jawline. 

"You don't have to be nervous, precious." He breathes against his skin. "I'm going to take such good care of you in our bed too." 

He doesn't bother to protest again. He knows it's not going to save him as his mouth settles against his throat, licking and biting like he wants to leave marks that he can't now because his skin is black there. Shigaraki starts to rock his hips into his, slow rolling movements that Dabi wants to twist away from, especially when they... start to feel good. He bites on his lip hard, trying to keep the only sounds coming out of him his soft sobs, as his cock begins to stir. But Shigaraki feels him, of course he does, and he smiles sweetly at him before his mouth moves down his chest to replace one of his hands. His other slips lower, catching the back of his thigh, pushing his boxers higher so that he can have his hand against his skin and drawing soothing circles there as he grinds against him. Dabi is pretty sure the petrichor taste of him is sinking past his skin and going all the way into his bones, settling there into a heavy, inescapable chill as his body, untouched for so long, starts to warm to his touches. 

The tears never hurt as they slip over his cheeks like they used to, and they never stop. Shigaraki's touches never hurt, and he never stops either. He pulls back for long enough to pull away his shirt and then he is kissing him again, his hands going down Dabi's hips and forcing them up so that he can pull away his boxers. Dabi tries to twist away instinctively, his body unable to suppress the urge when he doesn't want that. Shigaraki bites his lip so hard that he starts to bleed and he makes himself be still under him again. His erection doesn't even have the decency to flag as that fresher fear and pain go through him. His skin is so desperate for a touch. Even before he was supposed to have died, even before the League, it had been at least a year since anyone was willing to go to bed with him, and no matter how much his mind recoils, his body longs for pleasure. Shigaraki licks away the blood from his lip and murmurs, 

"You look so beautiful blushing like that for me, precious." His hands move over his body and he leans back to really look at him. "I wish I could have seen you before, but we were always so busy with work. I promise things will be different now. I'm going to make sure that you never have to lift a finger for anything else ever again." 

"Tomura, we don't have to," do this? Change how things were before? What? It's so sharply clear that this is all Shigaraki has wanted out of him since Overhaul. 

"I want to, precious. I want to make you feel good. I want to make every part of you mine. I want to make love to you, Dabi." He wishes so badly that he had burned hot enough to have only been ashes in the wind, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't know if he means when he was twelve or when he killed his father. 

Shigaraki kisses him again, his hands moving down his body, one wrapping around his cock and stroking him slowly from root to tip and Dabi hates himself for how loudly he moans. It feels so sickeningly good that his toes curl against the sheets and his cock starts to drool so much so quickly. He bites into his lip this time and tries not to squirm and have that pleasure turn to agony as Duster's eyes stay so pleased and adoring on him as he strokes his cock a few more times before he, thankfully, lets go of him. 

Then his hand moves over his balls and behind him. No, no, no-- His fingers, only wet with his pre, circle his hole, and Dabi grabs onto his shoulders, his nails biting into his skin. He's not even bothering to try to push him away, he's just bracing himself for the pain of being opened, or being raped by the thick cock he can see outlined in Shigaraki's pants, without proper preparation. But when Duster starts to rub around his hole, Dabi feels a surreal, unfamiliar ache in his pelvis before he feels-- he yelps as something warm and wet starts to slick his hole and Shigaraki's fingers as he rubs them over him. 

"Wh--" 

"That's it, precious. Getting so wet for me," and his voice is thicker with his lust. "I knew my baby girl would be so needy after having to wait so long to have me." 

He understands then, as Shigaraki circles him one more time before he pushes his finger deep inside, sliding along his wet walls without the discomfort he was expecting, that he didn't just have the doctor fix him. He had him made perfect for his delusions. He had his 'queen' made so that he could fuck him whenever he wanted. Dabi squeezes his eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears spill down his cheeks as he realizes that he probably tailor made his body to react to his touches. Made it impossible for him not to... like it as he's violated. 

Shigaraki rubs his finger along him, until Dabi is panting and keening softly as his cock leaks heavily against his stomach, and his hole is all but gushing slick as he puts in another. He sinks them inside and scissors them just enough to get him used to a stretch, strokes just long enough to ensure that his prostate is sensitive and making him moan with each little brush against it, before he kisses Dabi again and pulls his fingers out. 

"Tomura, please," and he wants to think that he's begging for him to stop. He knows he doesn't want this. But his body is lost in the heady, unwanted pleasure that is being forced across his nerves. He wants to die. He wants to be fucked. 

Shigaraki won't let him do the first, not when he thinks he owns him. But he takes the second for himself. He strips away the last of his clothing and Dabi shifts, twisting his torso so that he can hide his face against the pillows so he at least doesn't have to look at the other man as he wraps his hand around his thigh and holds him open and at the angle he wants, as his other hand steadies his cock so he can press inside. Dabi hates himself for how good it feels, how much wetter he gets, how loudly he moans, as Shigaraki feeds his massive cock into his body. He's breathless and soaking the pillow with his tears as the other man bottoms out.

"Fuck, precious, you're so tight." He leans in and kisses his cheek as he starts to rock his hips into him in slow, gentle, rolling thrusts that make certain every one of Dabi's nerves is stimulated and suffusing his body with pleasure. He laughs softly and Dabi wishes he could burn him alive. "First time you've had something inside since I brought you back, huh, precious? Guess that really makes you mine." He teases like they're lovers. As far as he's concerned, they are. 

And Dabi's body agrees as he starts to shift, angling his thrusts deeper, dragging their skin against each other slowly, kissing and touching wherever he can reach. He forces his pleasure to go higher and higher, and no matter how good it all feels, Dabi knows that it's wrong because his quirk isn't racing to meet him. His body gets warmer, but only the way a normal person’s would. Only reminding him with each sobbed moan and whimper as Shigaraki wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke, that his body isn't his. It never has been. It belonged to his father's ambitions first, then it belonged to his revenge, now it's Shigaraki's and he's never going to be able to escape. 

It's not an escape, but it is a relief when his pleasure goes so high that he can't fight it back any longer. His mind goes blissfully blank as he arches and cums, his insides tightening around Shigaraki, and pulsing just as much as his cock as he spills his release. His whole body feels consumed by the pleasure and he cries and cries as Duster keeps moving inside of him. He pushes him past the oversensitivity, telling him the entire time how beautiful he is, how much he missed him, how much he loves him, how he's never going to let him go again. He talks, and touches, and rapes him, and Dabi's body doesn't have the decency to be disgusted. He gets hard again, and this time, Shigaraki only lets him cum when he finally does, lacing their fingers together and kissing him sweetly as he fucks him full of his cum, until Dabi's mind gives him another few seconds of reprieve as his orgasm drowns him again. 

///

Shigaraki barely lets him be alone after that. He is with him in his bed-- their bed-- when he sleeps and wakes. He is with him when he eats, when he goes anywhere in the house, and if he has work to do, he brings Dabi to his office and he does his work, while holding one of Dabi's hands so that he can't go far. Dabi has to ask to even go to the bathroom when he needs to, and if he's not back in a timely enough fashion, Shigaraki comes looking for him. Now that he's shown his hand, proved to Dabi he is insane beyond anything he could have guessed, he doesn't bother to hide his obsession anymore. He keeps Dabi close, he pulls him into his lap for kisses and wandering touches that could turn deadly, or at the very least, painful, at his slightest whim. He slips his hand into his pants whenever he feels like it, either stroking him off or fingering him until he's dripping and trembling through his orgasm. He kisses away his tears and tells him how beautiful he is, how much he loves him, as he does, and Dabi lets him. 

He's not numb anymore. 

No, Shigaraki keeps him close, he dotes on him and adores him, and Dabi moves past the anguish. He moves past the regrets and wishes that he had just died when he had the chance. Wishing for those things won't save him now any more than it did when he was a child. He learns what Shigaraki wants from him, and when he wakes up in the morning a week after the first night that Duster forced his way into his bed, Dabi rolls into his chest and nuzzles his face up under his chin, pressing a kiss there, just beneath his jaw. 

"Morning, Tomu." He mumbles. 

Shigaraki's hands against him twitch, tightening just the slightest bit. "Morning, precious. Did you sleep better last night?" No secret now that they're sharing a bed that he has nightmares. Of the fire, of his father, and of Shigaraki too now. Dabi doubts he'll ever stop having any of those, but he shrugs. 

"Do you have a meeting this morning?" He asks instead. 

"Why, baby?" 

He kisses up his jaw until he reaches his ear. "Wanna see if I can take your cock without having to prep. You made me perfect for you, didn't you, Tomura?" 

"You were always perfect, firefly." Shig breathes, catching his chin and looking into his eyes. Dabi doesn't know if he'll ever learn to fake whatever he's going to need to in order to make Shigaraki believe his words are real. But he has time. He'll never get older, never be hurt again so long as he plays along. He can pretend. He wonders if Shigaraki can see those thoughts in his eyes as he looks at him, his gaze calculating. Dabi will play along. He'll do it until his mind shatters and he really does fall in love with this monster, or until Shigaraki sinks so far into his delusion that he never sees it coming when he burns him alive. 

Dabi knows how to bide his time to destroy someone. When he does it this time, he's going to make sure that no one is around to ruin the finality of that action. "I love you." He says on a breath, and Shigaraki smiles at him sweetly even though his eyes are still sharp. 

"I love you too, precious." They're both lying when they say it, but Dabi at least understands that his own words aren't just a lie, they're a promise. He will either love Shigaraki, or he'll kill him. Time will tell. 

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 19: Kazuha x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 4969

Warnings: Afab!reader, femdom, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, panties in mouth, gags, sounding, urethral insertion

A/N: I call this one 'ninja vs samurai' 🤭

⭐

It is by pure luck and happenstance that you finally manage to catch him. 

Kaedehara Kazuha was an elusive one, and frustratingly hard to track down. So much so that if it hadn’t been for the bounty on his head you would have given up a long time ago, deeming it an impossible task. But the Tenryou Commission and General Kujo wanted him badly enough to put up a very sizable bag of mora in exchange for him so you’d been willing to go that extra mile and put in the work. 

Usually you wouldn't have even considered dealing with those shogunate dogs at all, being a wanted criminal yourself and not particularly keen about ending up on the sharp end of the Almighty Narukami’s sword should they realize that. But the reward money was just tempting enough and your ability to slip into almost any setting without being detected was pretty handy for things like this. It was what ultimately allowed you to get close enough to him to make your move. 

Unfortunately now that you had him, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with him. 

“Well,” You intone, standing over the kneeling swordsman, looking him over. He’s been surprisingly well behaved thus far, allowing you to cinch his captured wrists with sturdy rope behind his back and then his ankles to ensure he couldn’t escape. Now he was just sitting there, bound legs neatly folded underneath him while he looked up at you like a sad, needy little puppy. 

It was a frustratingly compelling argument, as far as silent pleas go, but you remind yourself to stay on track. With all the mora you’d get from turning him in you could probably flee Inazuma all together and start a new life somewhere else. His freedom in exchange for yours, simple economics. 

“Although I do appreciate your cooperation, I gotta’ say. I expected you to put up more of a fight. You look like you’d be better suited to being someone’s lap dog than a samurai.” 

Slowly blinking his big, softly winsome eyes at you, Kazuha imploringly tips his head to one side. “I mean you no disrespect or ill will, shinobi. It’s just that I’d rather not have to fight those of the fairer sex, if I can help it.” 

You archly lift a brow at that. “Are you underestimating me?” 

“Hardly. I can tell at just a glance that you’re a talented and experienced combatant, make no mistake. But I also see that you have no killing intent for me. Typically I only fight women when they’re willing to run me through.” 

“Ah, is that your type then?” 

He smiles at that, meeting your sly little smirk tit for tat. “Very much so. I will admit, you’re quite captivating though. Alas, if only you’d tried to disembowel me.”

“Yes, if only.” 

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to laugh at his soft wheedling but you manage, somehow. 

Crossing your arms over your stomach, you instead look at him down the length of your nose to ensure he didn’t mistake the semi friendly banter for niceness. He was your prisoner until you handed him off to the Tenryou Commission and you couldn’t afford to let him forget that. 

Even putting that aside though you still had to figure out what you were going to do with him in the meantime. After tracking him across half of Inazuma on a largely wild goose chase you’d at last managed to corner the slippery ronin in an old, abandoned inn where he’d stopped to rest. Pretending to be a simple peasant girl fleeing the mountains, you’d easily cozied your way up to him long enough to strike, disarm him and then tie him up so he couldn’t run off. 

But that was about as far as you’d planned and you hadn’t given much thought to how you were going to cart him all the way back to the city. In truth you’d fully expected to fail in this endeavor so you hadn’t thought you would need to figure this part out. If you undid the ropes around his ankles to make him walk with you there was a very good chance he might try scurrying off at the first opportunity. You couldn’t exactly carry him all the way on your back either though, and it seemed unlikely that you’d find a conveniently placed wheelbarrow to stick him in. 

Dammit. Now what were you supposed to do?

“Is something wrong, miss?” He softly hedges when your expression slowly darkens to match your souring mood. 

“Not at all. In fact, I’ve never been happier.” You say, deliberately keeping your tone light so as not to tip him off that something was amiss. Best not to let him get any funny ideas. “You’re going to be my ticket out of here, Kaedehara. The shogunate is willing to pay a very hefty sum for you.” 

“So I’ve heard. And please, call me Kazuha. There’s no need for formalities.” 

Shooting him a quick look of warning, you nudge your chin up in defiance of his friendly entreaty. “Don’t get cute. You’re still my prisoner and that means you’re at my mercy until I hand you over to the Shogunate.” 

“My sincere apologies then. But if I may ask, how do you intend to accomplish that? I can’t exactly walk like this.” Gesturing towards his bound legs with a pointed nudge of his body, Kazuha looks at you in a way that seems at complete odds with what he’s saying. His expression reads that of a guileless, unassuming youth who was more inclined to trust strangers than not, but for him to ask that … was he really so sharp that he’d picked up on your lack of adequate planning this quickly? 

You’d almost feel embarrassed at how ill prepared you actually are, if only you weren’t frantically trying to keep your calm in the face of his simple scrutiny. 

“I’m not sure why you think I’d tell you my whole plan, just like that, but I can assure you I - -“

“You don’t have one, do you?” 

Allowing yourself to trail off, you irritably narrow your eyes at him. He was really pushing it. “What makes you say that? Don’t even think about playing these little mind games with me, Kaedehara. I promise it won’t work.” 

His smile grows by a very small margin, looking up at you as peaceful and serene as any pious monk. It strikes you as a little odd, if you’re being honest, and you quickly realize that you have no idea what to make of this guy. He didn’t seem to you like the samurai you’d expected him to be, especially not one who would have such a large bounty on their head. Was this really the right person? 

A mild pang of uncertainty creeps through your chest at that thought, but before you can spiral into full blown panic thinking you’ve apprehended an innocent man he draws a calm breath to speak again. 

“If I were to play games with you, miss, I can assure you it wouldn’t be like this. I’m much more inclined towards battles fought between the sheets when it comes to lovely maidens such as yourself. Had you given me the chance to stand off with you there rather than here, I’m sure you wouldn’t have found my blade quite so easily disarmed.” 

Your eyes widen slightly, flustered heat shooting across your face with the implicit understanding of what he was saying. So it was like that then. Kaedehara Kazuha was a silver tongued cad who evidently thought he could smooth talk his way out of this problem with his soft spoken voice and flowery expressions. It irritates you precisely because it probably would have worked in almost any other situation. He was quite handsome, you couldn’t deny that. 

But if you allowed yourself to be tempted and swayed at this crucial junction after all the hard work you’d put in just to even find him, all of that effort would have been in vain. You had to keep your wits about you with this one, clearly. 

Deciding to call his bluff, you step forward as you drop your hands down to brace them on your hips in what you hoped was a confident and casual pose. He tips his head back to keep his attention on your face when you saunter right up to him, still looking as placid as could be. That just further annoys you when it was so clear you should have had the upper hand in this situation, but someone on the outside looking in probably wouldn’t have guessed that given how plainly unconcerned he was about being your prisoner. Without any context it probably looked like the two of you were playing a consensual but perverted game with each other. 

You couldn’t abide by that though, not when your future might very well ride entirely on turning him over to the Tenryou Commission. Shinobi were only as valuable as the master they served, after all, and as someone who answered to no lord that meant you were as much a criminal as any other until you could buy your freedom to go somewhere else. Drastic measures were needed here if you didn’t want this to get any further out of your control than it already was.  

Quickly cobbling together a haphazard plan of action, you silently slide your right foot out of its wooden sandal and bring it up to press on the center of his lap. Kazuha’s breath hitches, eyes widening just enough to register surprise as he tips his chin down to look at what you’re doing, but that’s all the reaction you get. You can just feel the faint, bulgy outline of his genitals under your heel through his clothes, and you slowly push down on it to make him subtly squirm. Well, at least that was a little better. 

“What’s wrong, Kaedehara? I thought you said this blade wouldn’t be so easily disarmed?” 

His shoulders rising with the slow breath he pulls in, the pale haired samurai carefully tips his face back up to look at you from under the fall of his bangs. Still soft and winsome, but was that a glint of interest you saw reflecting in his pretty eyes? 

“Your technique is bold and quite forward. I like that, but this isn’t enough to truly test my blade's mettle yet. See for yourself what it’s capable of, miss.” 

A pang of genuine annoyance lights up inside your chest, making you frown. Was he seriously challenging you over this? Kazuha was either a fool or a masochist, possibly even some deadly combination of the two, and you meanly grind your foot down in retaliation. The sensation of the fleshy bits of him squishing under the force gives you a vague sense of satisfaction, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get when he rumbles a faltering sound of discomfort. 

Fine. If this was how he wanted to play you’d give it to him. 

“Something tells me you’re still underestimating me.” You intone, deliberately keeping your voice neutral and gentle to contrast with the rough treatment. “But you seem to be forgetting that you’re at my mercy and I get to call the shots. If I wanted to slit your throat there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do about it.” 

“You won’t, though.” He murmurs quietly, bowing his head over your foot once again. 

“Maybe not. But I can still make you beg for my forgiveness in other ways.” 

Slowly, you shift the motion of your foot from pressing to rubbing, sliding it back and forth over his concealed length. Kazuha whimpers ever so softly as he starts to fidget under the stilted ministration, rocking subtly on his knees. You can feel his length twitching underneath you, starting to stir, and you find a great deal of unexpected pleasure in gradually working him up to full stiffness with the cruel treatment. 

He turns out to be surprisingly receptive to this kind of stimulation and it doesn’t take long for his cock to turn rigid and stiff, pitifully flexing up against the arch of your foot in search of more friction. Deciding to give it to him, you settle the center of your outstretched limb over his lap and lean your weight into him, gradually sinking down into the soft give of his body to pin his cock there. An appropriately tender gasp slips out of him in response and he shakes for you, stiff and halting where he’s knelt there on the floor. 

This isn’t enough to get the message across though, and he clearly hasn’t learned his lesson yet so you retract your foot to rebalance your weight. Going down onto one knee in front of him so you can tip your head, finding his shuttered eyes under the curtain of his hair, you give him a coy little smile. 

“You certainly seem eager.” Tauntingly cooing at him now, you reach out with one finger to nudge at the hard weight of him pressing up on the front of his pants. “What kind of man gets excited over something like this? I bet you’ll be quite popular in prison before they execute you.” 

Breathing out a shuddering laugh, Kazuha rouses himself enough to straighten up from the defensive hunch he’d fallen into so he can look you in the face. “As I’m sure you will also be, in the cell right next to mine. Or who knows? Perhaps we’ll even be roommates and then we can continue this game as much as we like.” 

You can’t quite catch your reaction and stop it, stiffening with a subdued jolt. “How do you know about that?” 

“I’m a wanted fugitive, miss, not an idiot. I’ve seen the bounty posters just as I’m sure you have. I’ll admit your disguise work is good. I didn’t recognize you at first but … up close like this I can see it.” Almost thoughtfully tipping his head to the side, Kazuha studies you for another moment longer before going on. “It’s the eyes, I think. You’re a beautiful woman, especially for a shinobi. I’d be hard pressed not to remember a face like yours no matter how you change your hair or your clothes. Do you really think you can just hand me over to them and walk away?” 

Indignantly stammering for a moment, you fumble for something to say to that. He had a lot of nerve talking to you like that and insinuating you were running a fool's errand on behalf of the Tenryou Commission. 

“Even if they were to recognize me,” You finally hiss. “Your bounty is still much greater than mine. They’ll take you as the priority and thank me for my service.” 

“At the same time that they’re placing you under arrest right alongside me. I may be the priority but you would be their second place consolation prize.” 

“Why you - -“

Voice rattling with impotent rage, you jerk back from him to narrow your eyes to dangerous slits. He just stares at you though, completely unconcerned about you or what you might choose to do to him, or even the straining tent in his lap. Dammit. He was doing too good a job of getting you riled up while maintaining his own cool. You couldn’t allow him to keep running his mouth like this. 

Decisively pushing up to your feet, you gather the bottom hem of your yukata so you can reach underneath, fumbling to get your fingers hooked in the band of your underwear. Kazuha just watches you do it with a look that you think means he was under the impression he’s somehow won, that his frustratingly smooth words of reason have gotten through to you. It’s not in your nature to give in so easily though, and you quickly yank your panties down so you can step out of them. 

Holding them balled up in one fist, you reach out to snag a biting fist full of his enviously soft hair so you can keep him held in place as you bend down. He tries to yank his head to the side when you bring your underwear close to his face but you just follow after him, shoving them against his lips hard enough to make him noise a plaintive yet muffled sound. It takes a prolonged moment for you to force him to open up, all his squirming making it even more difficult, but you at last get your panties stuffed inside to gag him with them. 

You quickly slap that hand over his mouth to keep him from spitting them out while he noises wordless protests, straightening up so you can circle around to the back of him. Keeping his head firmly pressed back into your lower stomach, only allowing him enough range of movement to pitifully wriggle, you reach back into the band of your obi to pull out another short length of rope. 

This you twine around his head, ignoring Kazuha’s increasingly frantic sounds as you work to pull the twined fiber across his lips so you can then yank it snug, forcing his teeth to part and bite down on the rope. Feeling really quite pleased with yourself now, you carefully work to tie it off at the back of his head to make sure he can’t say anything else about it for the time being. Even if he was in all likelihood probably right, you didn’t really want to hear it right now. 

“There. That’s better.” 

Padding back around to the front of him, you smirk at the helpless look he shoots you to go with the stifled whimpers that slip out of him. Yes, this was much preferable. 

Going back down onto your knees again, you eagerly reach for the front of his pants to tug at the tie around his waist, making him squirm again. There’s absolutely nothing he can do about it though, and with an insistent rustle of fabric, you get his hakama inched down enough to expose the fundoshi underneath. 

His cock is standing straight up through the thin cloth, clearly showing the weighty outline of him as if there wasn’t even a barrier there standing in the way. The white material is so clean and soft that you can clearly make out a wet spot bleeding into it where his tip is tightly pressed, making it almost translucent. So he was enjoying this after all, but for how long? 

Feeling more than just a little devious now, you reach into the wide sleeve of your yukata to pull out a sharp kunai. Kazuha’s eyes widen slightly at this, another weak sound coming from him when you bring it close. For a drawn out moment you just tease him with the threat, suggestively tracing the very pointy tip of the weapon over his bulge. It’s not hard to see that it makes him nervous having a blade that close to his genitals, and your own excitement starts to ratchet up when he shoots you a pleading look. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Kaedehara? I thought you invited me to test the mettle of your blade with mine.”

He gives his head a brief shake, making you laugh at his powerlessness. So much for his silver tongue. 

Finally turning your wrist, you slip the blade underneath the fabric where it’s just ever so slightly lifted from the sheer rigidness of his erection. The sensation of it scraping lightly over his sensitive skin has him trembling fiercely, his whimpering breaths coming quicker through his nose now. You merely flick it upward to catch the fundoshi though, slicing right through it with a little jerk of your hand. He visibly relaxes his shoulders in response, swaying slightly in his knelt position while you use your kunai to nudge what was left of the undergarments aside. 

And his cock readily spills out into the open, still flushed and leaking from your earlier abuse. Taking care to slip the knife back inside your sleeve where he wasn’t likely to start getting any bright ideas, you bring your hand down to wrap the fingers around him where it had pitifully slumped to the side against his thigh. It seemed your teasing had been enough to nearly deter his erection but it immediately flexes in your hold, stirring right back to full hardness again in the time it takes you to blink. 

His skin is so smooth and silky soft that you can’t deny yourself the urge to just feel over him for a savory moment, appreciatively dragging your hand from the base where coarse pubic hair just tickles your knuckles straight up to the fleshy tip to smear sticky discharge across your palm. In truth he was a bit bigger than you’d expected him to be and nicely shaped, and you think in a different life you may have been more compelled to climb on top of him so you could take him inside your body.

Instead, you gradually settle into a steady rhythm that has him roughly breathing through his nose, his cheeks growing pinker the more you pump him. The motion of your hand slowly nudges his ballsack to slip out as well, leaving the fleshy globes pathetically resting in the cradle of his thighs. 

“Don’t you just look pitiful right now.” You purr at him, maintaining the slow, evenly cantered pace of your arm as you jerk him off. “Is this the sort of battle you were hoping to have with me, Kaedehara? Hm? I wonder how long you’ll last like this …” 

“Mmphh! Mmhhn mmm …” 

Looking really quite sad now, Kazuha stiffly hunches forward as if to somehow protect himself from the full brunt of your punishment but he’s completely helpless like this. All he can do is silently watch your hand work over his cock until a sticky wet click starts up where more eager precum was beading underneath the foreskin. You can tell it feels good though, both in the very flushed, hazy quality of his face as much as the way his hips stiffly twitch and roll into the motion of your ministrations. He probably wasn’t overly pleased about the reaction of his body but there would be no denying his pleasure. 

Still teasing him with softly spoken words, you wait until the tension running through his body seems to reach its breaking point and his posture turns even more stiff before slowly pulling your hand away. Confused surprise registers in his expression for all of half a second and then he screws his eyes shut, groaning a frustrated sound through the gag while he shakes his head. 

Sitting back to watch, you decide you very much like the way he desperately twists and bucks on his knees, trying as hard as he can to give his leaking cock a chance to spill over into release, but it’s no use. Without the direct contact of your fingers on him his length can only bob and flex in the air without finding any stimulation there at all, and his impending orgasm merely fades away right before your very eyes. 

He’s panting so heavily his entire frame seems to heave with the rapid expansion of his lungs when he finally goes still again, having no choice but to give up now. You decide you like that quite a bit more than you would have expected to, carefully reaching out to take him in your hand again. 

“Mmph! Mmnnghh!” 

Tossing his head back at your touch, Kazuha plaintively shakes before you, trying again to jut his hips up to fuck himself into your fist. Using just your fingertips to barely touch him, you carefully pull down on the fleshy exterior of his throbbing length to ease his foreskin back with a sticky click. The head is flushed dark and rosy, glinting wetly in the sunlight that streams in from one of the old broken windows on the adjacent wall. 

“Poor thing. You look like you really need to cum. Do you think I should keep touching you?” 

He stiltedly nods, staring at you with those big, wetly glistening eyes. Something told you if you just pushed him a little more you could probably make him cry, and that sounds surprisingly tempting in the moment. 

“I could help you out but,” Slyly roving your attention back down to his needy, twitching cock, you allow yourself a sharp little smirk. “We don’t want you making a mess everywhere, do we? Maybe I should plug you up for a moment.” 

Outright jolting at that, Kazuha noises a plainly horrified sound as he helplessly watches you reach up with your opposite hand to slip one of the bamboo sticks out of your hair. It’s lacquered and smooth, decorated on one end with a little dangling charm in the shape of a blooming sakura bud while the other was rounded and smooth. You’d never tried anything like this with them before but you were relatively certain the width is narrow enough to fit — although Kazuha does not seem to be in agreement with that estimation. 

He anxiously rocks back on his knees, trying to shirk away from you, but you just drop the hand on his cock down to grip the base and hold him still. Sucking in such ragged breaths you think he might make himself feel faint if he keeps it up, he turns his face away so he won’t have to see you bringing the stick close to his weeping glans. 

Taking a moment to smear the dull end through all the copious slick oozing out of him to make sure it’s nice and lubricated first, you find that your own excitement is starting to ratchet up to a truly uncomfortable level now. You were admittedly rather tempted to straddle him and use his body for your own pleasure, but not before you’d made your point. 

This should teach him to be more careful about what he says to people. 

“I’ll give you credit, Kaedehara. You were right. This blade has not been as easily dealt with as your sword was. I hope you enjoy this reward for all of your hard work today.” 

He full on wails behind the gag in response but you just ignore him, much too focused on swirling the end of the stick up to nudge it at the slit along his cock head. It’s fleshy and well coated from all the excitable discharge coming out of him, and it gives slightly under the pressure you apply. Kazuha dizzily sways while you work to slip the smooth tip in, prodding at him insistently until you at last manage to get it wedged just inside the glans. 

From there it’s a little bit easier to work it in deeper now that the interior passage of him was fitted to the shape of your hair accessory, but you still have to go slow so as not to truly hurt him. Even for as much as he’d pissed you off earlier, you didn’t really want him bleeding out on you should you get a bit too impatient and shove it in too fast.

Despite how slow the process actually is, his urethra accepts the intrusion surprisingly well. You can feel when it reluctantly gives another millimeter, allowing you to slide in just a little bit deeper, until you at last have it inserted far enough that you don’t have to keep holding it anymore. 

Carefully slow to ensure his cock had a good grip on it, you gradually pull your hand back to admire your handiwork. And what a sight it is, his face flushed intoxicatingly red and coated in a heavy sheen of sweat that makes his hair stick to the skin in a few spots. His pretty eyes are dazed and shuttered, staring off into the far distance as if in a doped out stupor as they swim with largely unshed moisture. He’s right on the verge though, and that pleases you a great deal, as do the full bodied tremors wracking through his painfully stiff frame. 

And sitting so pretty in his lap, Kazuha’s cock stands straight up in the air as stiff and throbbingly rigid as could be with your hair stick shooting out of the end of it. The tiny sakura charm bobbles softly with each and every little flex of his straining length, every shudder of his body, and you can tell the additional weight of it is slowly dragging at his erection. It must be uncomfortable for him though, because every time it starts to droop down he quickly rushes to flex the muscle, tightly holding it in place to keep himself upright. 

You’d never seen anything more erotic in your entire life, if you were being honest. 

Your own breath is coming a bit quicker now as you reach back out again to wrap the fingers around the base of his shaft, making him frantically wail an incomprehensible plea through the panties stuffed inside his mouth. But you don’t pay it any mind though, giving him a brief squeeze before tauntingly dragging your loose fist up along his cock to make sure he feels the unrelenting object inside his penis. Gods, you could have played with him for days like this. 

“Don’t worry, Kaedehara.” You murmur, not even trying to hide the faint tremble of arousal in your voice now while you work your hand back down to complete the pumping motion. “I’ll let you cum once I’m satisfied, but not a moment before. And don’t you dare forget you’re at my mercy ever again.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[suguru-getos]

— hawks hit by a yandere quirk —

-> warnings: yandere themes, mentions of feather blade cuts, completely delulu hawksie, toxic love (ofc its yandere), fem! reader, mentions of self h@/rm scars. mentions of slight choking, degradation, shock and breakdown. it’s dark, okay? stay off of it if you don’t like it. loads and loads and loads of word vomit ahead and not beta’d.

all you could hear was the rumbling and the faint noises that echoed from the tv. the main pro heroes like hawks, endeavor, dynamight were caught in a nuisance and your heart was thumping out loud for your boyfriend. it’s been 2 months only, that keigo and you started dating, hell you’ve never even been to his apartment yet.

why?

it’s… complicated

you’re one of the renouned pop idols of japan and had been writing songs dedicated to hawks. yes— you fell first and he fell harder. during one of the award functions hawks was quick to catch a-hold of you, which turned into a one night stand— which turned into you telling him to leave because you couldn’t accept a hero like hawks wanting to be with a quirkless woman. which turned into a few unreleased songs and eventually— you and keigo together.

this time though? you couldn’t care less, you really wanted to check if hawks was doing okay and drove to the hospital he was in. he was — okay. for the most part? a few scratches here and there, a few feathers missing but your man never looked better. what you didn’t know is how mentally he wasn’t okay. under the effect of several mutated quirks, one of them being the yandere one.

how could you sense it really? well— it was in plain fucking sight! the way hawks possessively grabbed you and kissed you, uncaring of who’s watching in the damned hospital & glaring daggers with his marked pupils when you so much so flinched the wrong way. it was visible that he wasn’t okay.

“eh, babe- what if someone sees us?” you tried to squirm away from his iron grip, being straddled on his lap like his favorite toy. “and?” keigo sounded, almost uninterested, annoyed at your statement.

“then we’d have a ruckus…” you gulped, clearing your throat, trying your best to understand what actually was going wrong.

hawks took a pause, his pupils scanning you and ended up in a long sigh. “you’re right babygirl, let’s just go to my apartment.”

you widened your eyes a little, ‘his’ apartment? he’s never taken you there, not even once! why the sudden change of heart? “alright!” you managed to answer, curiosity taking over you as you let keigo carry you princess style in the high skies and eventually in his balcony.

“s’ not much, definitely doesn’t feel as homely as yours but it’s what it is.” keigo led you inside, while you noticed how ikea-ish the whole vibe was. nothing was displaced, everything felt unreal and uninhabitable. reminded you of the fact that keigo doesn’t stay in his apartment much.

the next moment again, took you off guard. landing right on the bed on keigo’s lap, soft tender kisses starkly contrasting from his hands which hovered all over your body, not leaving any square inch of you untouched with his carnal, almost dangerous growls rendered you speechless, and slightly uncomfortable.

“ngh- AH keigo- easy there,” you whimpered when his teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, unable to find time to breathe properly. hawks wanted you and you were unable to keep up with his predator instincts.

“what?” he leaned back, hands wrapping themselves around your neck suddenly, squeezing them gently. “do you not want to be loved, kid?” of course it wasn’t a question, keigo sounded offended with your predicaments.

“no- no, its not like that you’re just behaving weirdly.” you managed to utter honestly, when another hand squeezed your face, golden eyes daggering and glowering at your form as keigo pecked your forced puckered lips. “then act like you’re enjoying being worshipped yeahh? i love you after all.”

of course he loved you, even you didn’t doubt that; for now atleast—

what was making you anxious was how nauseating his love felt right now. how it made you feel insignificant, insecure, pathetic.

when you feel weird, you act weird. maybe it was your mistake with how you acted— and lied to hawks, to get rid of him. you just needed space from him.

“i think i should let you rest, yeah?” a sugarcoated lie that you wanted to flee from him, gave you a sugarcoated answer from keigo. “i can rest while you’re here, can’t i?”

keigo hugged you again, suffocating you with his large wings covering you up, and not letting a single speck of light pass. “ye-yeah.” you were growing more nervous by the moment.

“you know? i’ve thought about some things. how you’re busy, in the studio, with other people, with fans, shooting ad commercials,” keigo paused, uncocooning you and glaring at you softly, as if he feels betrayed.

“huh?” you couldn’t say anything to that— yes you were, but that’s your job!

“what if i get rid of everyone and keep you to myself.” keigo smirked, watching your expressions change to half disgust, half anxious as you forced a chuckle.

“n-no? you’re the number 2 hero after all!” you smiled, trying to balm the wound his words gave you all by yourself. maybe any reassurance would help at the moment.

“mhm, and who said? heroes are all white with no grey areas? and, can’t be morally fucked?” boy— now you were losing your damn mind. you knew keigo never talk like this after all.

“uhm,” you managed to conjure up another lie. “i uh, forgot to feed my cat. i gotta go”

pathetic— poor and disgusting, that’s how your lie felt to hawks. siren eyes glaring at you as if you know, that he knows. you’re fucking lying. that feeling itself made you uncomfortable. hawks paused— clearing his throat, “you visited the hospital which means you had already fed him before going out. besides— didn’t he have an automatic feeder?”

“ye-yeah but i forgot to put food in it.”

“don’t be silly, dove” hawks cooed, glaring knives and hatred at your lies. “i saw you fill it 2 days back.”

before you could say anything else, his hand squeezed your throat, still careful and haven’t gone completely off the edge. “why’re you lying to me? do you want to meet someone else behind my back and whore around? like you do in award shows? click pathetic pictures with heroes for the camera and attention while i WATCH WHAT’S MINE BEING TOUCHED BY SOMEONE ELSE?”

you flinched, resisting and pushing him away after witnessing the heat of his rage first hand. “no- what the fuck’s wrong with you i’d never! i’ve written songs for you do you have no respect for me?” your voice also rose a few octaves, but hawks’ grip was relentless, pushing you on the mattress face first with an unbearable grip on your neck which you can’t get up from.

you felt powerless in the most disgusting, self hating way. if only you hadn’t been quirkless— if only—

you tried to push your way up, causing a knuckle crack that sounded loud enough to scare hawks, his hold left you immediately and he was surrendered on his knees, feathers splayed down on the floor with panic struck eyes. “fuck fuck fuck- are you okay?” he mumbled, holding your hand and looking at you with downpours of guilt you could swear was fake.

“m’ fine i’m not made of glass.” now your helplessness against someone as powerful as him was proving to enrage you. eyes daring to glare back at the absolute manipulative powerhouse of a man. “i want to leave.”

it was like a switch flipped in hawks, one moment he was kneeling down, the other moment he was up again, dominating you through your very core, pinning your wrists to the bed as he clicked his tongue. you could tell his patience was running thin.

“here’s what’s gonna happen— kid, you’re not moving anywhere for shit. and to remind you that you can’t go anywhere, and who exactly you belong to, i’ll mark you up, yeah?” stray plumes emerged from his wings as they ripped off your t shirt, uncaring, unflinching and unbothered of the littering papercuts that oozed out blood from your body.

“please- please no no- no i don’t consent to this you’re FUCKING SICK what’s wrong with you!” your anxiety ravaged your mind, bile rising up your throat as you felt the pain of being his all at once. hawks’ ignorant eyes as if he’s dealing with a child having a temper tantrum was chilli flakes to your wounds.

quickly, as if you breathing more was a waste of time, hawks yanked your wrist close to his, feather blade sharp and precise as he drew a line above one of your self harm scars, eventually completing the “K” of keigo.

by then you were begging, praying, chanting for him to stop, hawks wanted you to suffer, deliberately gliding his blade across your skin slowly, making you feel the ripping of your skin tissue, ignoring your pleads and how you don’t ‘consent’, who asked for your consent anyways? you were nothing more than a toy to stomp and play around with. punish if you don’t submit. hawks was sure to get that message through your skull.

with a little, complimentary mercy, he wrote the rest of his name quickly on your hand, maybe he was getting annoyed at your begging, or maybe he did feel bad. all you knew was he never loved you.

“there we go, nice and pretty,” sadistically, he licked off the strip of blood from your wrist, and you could swear you saw him kiss your self harm scars, a flash of the previous aftercare memory maybe.

tears flowing through your eyes and shock enough to supress the smallest sniffles, you kept staring at your hand. unlucky for hawks— when he gets off the effects of whatever the quirk that got ahold of him was, he’d never be able to hold you again.

you were beyond numb, why wouldn’t you be? it was a reminder that you dated the wrong man— and maybe you should be punished for it. or will you really be able to accept that it was a quirk? keigo would never do this to you, but hawks did and relished it. maybe it’s better to lose them both.

and you will, when hawks gets back to his senses and gives you his pathetically constructed apology, you will realize maybe— for a quirkless, normal human being, dating the #2 hero was the biggest mistake of your life.