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inventors-fair · 6 months ago

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Hope Contest Commentary: Peace at Last

The most difficult part about flavor in card design is straddling the barrier between interpretation and specificity. Old core-set style cards depicted abstract notions for the sake of abstraction, but the little details in the art were what allowed for the otherwise otherworldly vibes.

Convincing Mirage is a card that comes to mind—it's never been reprinted, it doesn't depict a named character, and the story it tells is quite intimate. But you can gather that the speaker is the merfolk illusionist in question, they're somewhat condescending towards their subject, and they're an illusionist with perhaps less than benevolent intentions. Aside from that, what do we have? We have a mood. We have a type of relationship and characterization. Is that enough? Honestly, it can be. It works for me!

When I talk about specificity, there comes an unspoken caveat: if the lens is too narrow, then the viewer/player/reader has no inroad for their own interpretation. I wish I could talk more about why this matters and how to go about exploring it, but after a certain point I just have to vibe. Some things work and some things don't and the rules aren't really rules and are subject to personal preference. Argh!

But this week, like last week, brought about a few really interesting cards to talk about on the front of specificity and about what people interpreted as hopeful. Maybe there's some underlying psychology to these cards, or maybe I'm talking nonsense. The themes that got chosen were absolutely wild, though. I was surprised to see only a single green card, and the ways that folks overlapped mechanically and flavorfully were really interesting. Lots of angels, lots of kids, and...thank you all. I'll give context after commentary, TW for medical discussion.

Judge Picks are cards I wanna point out for some reason or another that didn't quite make the cut into the top slot but are still awesome. Read on, crazy diamonds.

@corporalotherbear — Final Push (JUDGE PICK)

This was a fairly close contender, not gonna lie. Final Fortune effects are often more powerful than we give them credit for, but I really haven't had much experience with them to call it out. We haven't seen a new one since...GRN? No, there was one in VOW, apparently. As far as good ones go, though—heh. This is a good one, though, and not only is it a good one but it's one that plays into the theme with a strong callback as well. Final XYZ is always pretty cool for a card name, and this one really shows a blend of historicity and modernity that I enjoy.

Perhaps this is one card where I would've liked a slightly more specific emotional foothold. I think the flavor text is decent considering the context of the mechanics. I still think that despite that connection, the question of what events are being depicted can bridge that more vague sensation of a last stand with an understanding of who is doing the action and why they're doing it. Is this a battle scene, or more of a sports game? Is this a royal assault, or vagabonds taking their stand against evil? Is there one named leader, a character? That little bit is what could really polish off this design.

@cthulhusaurusrex — Claim to the Throne

If you're hellbent, this casting restriction is kind of a walk in the park. With the mechanic of the monarch being introduced, I tend to assume that these cards are designed for multiplayer formats. However, if that's not the case, I would caution you against the power of monarchy in 1v1 formats; Pauper is the format most affected by that for sure, but various cubes can also show just how wild that mechanic can be.

At rare as well, I would expect that this card would do a little bit more? Compared to various monarchic common and uncommon cards, the effect of an additional blocker isn't the strongest thing to ask for on a rare. Obviously the monarch mechanic affects the board, but... In a premier set, I kinda expect more from a rare? The discard itself probably represents some form of sacrifice, but I don't feel I have the context to grasp what this card's doing with that or with the concept of hope specifically. I think I'd want a more precise focus on where this card would want to be in a set, what kind of set it's designed for, and what rate you'd want for this effect.

@dimestoretajic — Glimpse Your Future

I really wish that this effect read more clearly, despite the grokability. You know what helps this card? Wall of Stolen Identity, which references a "copied creature." And honestly, with that precedent I don't think that you necessarily have to target. But maybe you do. I guess you do, actually, reading other cards like this, with this kind of effect. Sheesh. Wouldn't the second part say "counter" instead of "counterS," though? Either way.

As I like this card's flavor immensely and while I grok it as well, I'll say with love that the mechanics do feel like this is more of a pet card than anything—i.e. it's designed for casual play patterns and doesn't have much application besides being a fun thing for Clone fans. Nothing wrong with that at all! I've been trying to make that stuff work for ages myself. It certainly plays into a very specific notion of hope that feels grounded and human, so much so that I accept the intentional distancing from the gameplay questions of lighthearted connection vs. powerful wizardry. Maybe reassurance is its own form of wizardry, but I digress. Lots of text for a feelsgood card, but the feels still land despite that.

@helloijustreadyourpost — Inspiring Victory

I can't believe I can't find precedent for that first ability—not exact, anyway. What I have instead is a suggestion: "This spell costs {1] less to cast for each creature that died under an opponent's control this turn." I guess there are some workarounds, but regardless. Uncommon anthems are weird, aren't they? While this card kinda feels like a winmore in some circumstances, I think that you've tied up the notion of Innistradian hope and the gameplay push in a way that feels pretty good to me. Maybe there's this humans vs. monsters stuff that can work around the fantasy-world moral complication questions, but hey, it's Innistrad, everything's out to get you.

Is that a problem for hope when it relies on you more or less already being able to smack your opponents down? I wonder about how the flavor feels on-board when you're already ahead and the card about hope against an otherwise overwhelming force comes down and your opponent gets to say "Yeah, no, I'm not invincible, I'm at twelve life from that." Is it just me overthinking how these things collide on the board? The answer is a definite yes, but I hope that I'm getting across some kind of point: the flavor of winning despite the overwhelming odds can run slightly countermand to a card that works best when you're already beating the odds. Does that make sense?

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes — Time of Duty

I really, really want to know what's going on here. And I don't have the strength to open up the MTG wiki to delve into an hour-long exploration of how Mercadia works if there's some tiny detail that I've missed here, because, I mean... Maybe there's a deep cut but maybe there's just too many odds here. Is the goblin here indentured, or are they a businessgoblin? What exactly is their duty? What about this situation needs a source that causes an aura to appear, literally or metaphorically? Does this depict, like, clocking out after a long day?

If that's the simplest answer, Occam's razor or whatever, then I suppose I understand what the intent might've been. I really don't feel that it's translated as clearly as you might've intended to, and the card itself is Dead Weight with extra steps. Maybe in some situations you could argue for growing a creature after a little bit of time, but the -2/-2 opens you up to so many situations that could've been avoided if you'd just been able to play this on an opponent's creature and then swing in. Does the fading have to do with the flavor specifically, or could this have been some other gameplay marker? Overall I'm just left a little confused by what was supposed to be happening here and what kinds of gameplay synergies you were hoping for, if any.

@little-red-rabbit — New Beginnings

The name and flavor text play into a series of tropes that certainly fit with this contest, and I think I can accept that there's some wiggle room with a card that leans so heavily on those established patterns. To clarify: rather than (like I usually do) talk about the specifics and the story and the context, I can wave my hands of the notion because this card's not trying to go for any of that. Perhaps that's to its detriment, but only for me as an audience, y'know? There's that early-core-set-vibe in the works.

Looking at the similarities with other cards this week, I'm surprised that there were two separate mono-white creature-searching cards? A little bit of a tweak is all that matters, I suppose, something that's allowable for white. Rushed Rebirth is actually the card that comes to mind for both of these, and Birthing Pod along with it in its own ways. I'm having a little trouble considering whether or not these cards are in-pie for white now, but I'm not sure... Small creatures are fine, of course, so what does this one search for? You're not usually gonna have huge creatures in this color. Perhaps I've been a little hasty in my judgements. All the same, this card's still pretty good to me, and it's interesting to see these two comparable ideas.

@misterstingyjack — Inspiring Inventor

There are quite a few "then"s in this card, aren't there. I think that that's where my main critique of that second ability is, because it's tied between two things that are pretty hard to disentangle with the absolute right wording. After getting rid of "the battlefield" there, I would just drop the first "then" in the ability and I think it's correct? I dunno, there's this part of me that wonders if it could be simpler. I grok it just fine and I enjoy it, too! It feels like a new kind of staple or signpost for Kaladesh, Artificer typal themes.

That's really the beginning and end of my hard mechanical critiques, and that's hardly a critique in itself. I don't think this card needs to be anything but pleasant! We're in a place in the contest where being merely pleasant and merely good mechanically is where we begin and end. But just to diverge a little bit, I wonder if this card can be an overlap. Let's go future-future possibilities for the fun of it. Maybe the signposts are crossways with the themes, and this card is one that shows care about vehicles and not just artificers, and blue artificers and white pilots cross ways here with this as the median. That would be cool! Big if true.

@nine-effing-hells — Darkest Ere the Dawn

The angels come in the fateful hour, and once again I'm in the camp of fateful hour not being that great of a mechanic to tie to this kind of effect without some residual thing tied to it. It's a good way to stay alive, but now it encourages a stalemate if you play it before anything—e.g. you're at a low-ish life total and your opponent would have close to lethal, but then you play this and their attack changes so that they have to wait until guaranteed lethal before risking anything. Or, it just sits there and you go from 6 to 0 in one big swing. At rare, it's unfortunate that this card would probably be printed just like this through official channels, but I wouldn't be the one to greenlight.

Great art direction, though, and I can feel the mood through the writing perfectly fine. The dawn that comes is a strong one. Depending on how you were close to death, it could feel exactly like the card's wanting to depict it. Has this been done before? Honestly, I feel that it's real damn close. The sensation of Innistrad humans on the brink of disaster is pretty much constant, and while I love it, I wonder what other options of mechanical/world combination could've suited you better here. But I want more art direction from you for sure, though. Do you sketch? I can imagine your sketches are radical.

@real-aspen-hours — Akaten, Vizier of Rebuilding (JUDGE PICK)

Hello, only green card of this week. How are you doing? Sometimes we get to a place where we're doing our best. Amonkhet in particular got absolutely pummeled and I'll say that those inhabitants are doing Their Best and that's about all that they can say, right? Like, holy cow... I'm feeling that this card is almost a Horizons-style card for some reason. The vigilant zombies that you're making are all that you can ask for. Eternalization has a different connotation now that there aren't Lazotep abominations running around. And that's not a bad connotation. Black is, as we've seen, the color of determination, and it's more of a marker than anything here.

This card's also a massive pain in the butt to play against but in a very good way. Like, the recursion changes the play style and increases your resources but I don't think it does so in a way that somehow overwhelms at a cost that's more than what you can ask for. It should say "token creatures," I think, in that first line? Aside from that, we're rebuilding just fine, and it's a powerful limited-style legend that can helm this color combo without feeling like it's sucking up to Commander players. It's a rare treat to see.

@reaperfromtheabyss — Together Again Someday (JUDGE PICK)

I think I overlooked this card a little when sifting through the entries for this week, perhaps because there's a lot of strange emotions that come from the relationship. You know what? If you're reading this and you're not Reaper, I want you to look at the power of one word: "younger." It's the notion of getting old and passing away that's something human and relatable and all that stuff, but then you have that younger spirit that's helping them along. What kind of youth? Is this a child who had passed on early, who had been preserved in the locket? Is this a former lover who died too young, and now the spirits can have the life that they thought they would've had before? Is this a parent and their adult child who was on the cusp of the age where they become their parents' parents, who left before being able to give that care?

Like—that's the extreme power that one specific word can have on the emotional imagination. Also, there are words on the second part of this card. And it's pretty good! There are a lot of questions about where and how you'd play this in limited, but you have great options for pseudo-reanimator shenanigans and maybe a sacrifice theme that allows for the fliers to do far more damage in the air than they would on the ground. It's especially rad if you can give flying to something that absolutely, positively does not need it to win more—except, well, 1/1 bodies keep them at bay. This card's pretty awesome in its design so I'm just gonna go put my head in a fridge so I can finish this commentary with my sanity intact.

@tanknspank — Daxos, God of Morning

What actually happened to my boy? I don't think I fully grasped that when I was reading the MOM storyline. I also did not read that much of the MOM storyline. If he did what I think he did, then good for him for a number of reasons. I also like how there's this more, like, Kaldheim vibe to the mortality of the gods here, where Daxos isn't subject to the same indestructibility of the others because he's giving himself to other subjects. One day he'll be mortal again, sort of. That's a kind of hope, right? Once more I find myself curious about the amount of white reanimation or reanimation-adjacent cards that we have in this contest, but I digress.

I'm a pretty big fan of that activated ability because there doesn't need to be a specific kind of counter removed. That also makes this card absolutely rife with combo potential and abuse. Sunshower Druid in particular is a two-card combo with any sac outlet. Plenty of counter synergies make this unlimited reanimation pretty rough, and if there's any kind of limited counter synergy, then your opponent is absolutely boned. Maybe there are a few playtests that could tweak that before we reach the best balance?

@walker-of-the-yellow-path — Hidden History (JUDGE PICK)

Do you miss the Time Spiral block? I sure miss the Time Spiral block. I also really love cards like this, so the first couple sentences there aren't sarcasm. It's asking for a lot of things, but honestly, I'm imagining this in Pioneer Phoenix decks. Surveiling into your graveyard is pretty easy with the massive host of cards that want you to do so, Ledger Shredder and Lightning Axe make discarding them pretty trivial, so like...I think that this is actually a viable card in the right archetype. Having it be UU instead of 1U is probably the right answer. What was that other card, Think Twice? I love Think Twice. Those decks don't play it, but whatever, it's a different time, who knows what cards will be viable.

What I like about the flavor is that it speaks to a kind of solemn hope, which is a very specific kind of hope, and that kind of hope is also a kind of warning. All hope is kinda like warning, right? Hoping for one thing and hoping against another is just the flip of a mental switch. I think that this card is asking for a lot of faith in the mechanical context with a flavor that's a little difficult to tie into anything mechanically with a precise aim. You don't need all of that, though, because the weirdness of the card is itself something that makes players want to investigate it more. But Pemmin is kind of against that in some ways, huh. You've made quite a conundrum there, actually. Clever clever! Give me that shovel.

@xenobladexfan — Indomitable Will

Ah, what can I say, I like the guy. The giant guy with the hammer, I mean. With the black cards that we've seen here, I think that the forcefulness of one's own strength is another aspect that I appreciate having represented. The only other thing I remember with this kind of effect is a weird one-off from Avacyn Restored—called "Homicidal Seclusion." Not exactly the kind of effect that we like seeing all that often. Here, though, your subject is kicking butt and taking names, and that's worth something to 'em. I like that a lot, and I appreciate the legendary aspect of it as well.

The mechanics are absolutely bonkers, of course, and if you can get a single creature then you're in the clear. My personal line would be to run manlands like Hall of Storm Giants or even Lumbering Falls (or Mutavault I guess) and then control the board until I can swing in and make my opponents miserable for trying to interact. Is that so wrong? Maybe. This one is a hard one to really parse because it can swing the tide of battle so much, or it can sit there and be just not enough on the crackback from your opponent. These cards tend to play like that. But good on you for making it legendary for design reasons. In limited, who knows how it would go?

@yd12k — Find the Cure

I tried to do a little research but I suppose that this isn't a named character from canon? Not that I could find, anyway. I can see where the flavor stands even without that, though, and the retrace ability being tied to reiterating experiments is probably a good call. You're going to be digging through your deck a lot, but that's all we can do when you're finding your cure. I'm sure there's a possibility that there's some lore that you've made tied into this character; I don't think I can hold it in my head right now even I wanted to know, but all the same, I respect it. For some reason I can't think of another precise media property that cares about finding a cure for XYZ. Why is the vibe so strong? Hm. Brain no worky, I think.

As for the mechanics here, I think that the card's pretty expensive for what it's trying to do. Maybe five mana could be a top end for playtesting, but that's something that would require playtesting to really figure out. Control players would love this, I'm sure—ditching a Dig through Time for the life or a Memory Deluge for value, etc. Retrace is also a pretty miserable mechanic to play against for the lifegain if you can handle getting to enough lands to ditch, but sometimes you just don't need to, and that's all good! I would like to have had retrace spelled out for polish. Also, in MSE, you can "Chop Top/Bottom" if the FT is getting cut off, FYI.

I've had to write and rewrite this, but a lot's changed since I first posted this contest and now, and I'm not sure where things stand in my days. But absorbing someone else's stress is a lot—never more than what they're going through themselves, of course. All the same... Well, we do what we can for everyone's sake. Love is hard and life is harder. Only one is eternal.

@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #inventor's fair #commentary #hope contest

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plutos-w0rkshop · 4 months ago

Text

A Gunslinger & A Conman

Chapter 1: Arrival

TW: Memories of suicide, descriptions of gore/morbidity

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: if you (don’t/do) want to be tagged please tell me 😭 i restarted the story but i’m tired so i’m just using the old taglist

@echobeez @eg0m4n14c @roach-master @give-liife @zh4rkbyt3

Did Heaven and Hell really exist? Or was it simply something people made up to cause mass hysteria amongst society, thinking “oh no, if I do bad I’ll be tortured for the rest of my existence!” or “ok so I’ll do good and it’ll all be perfect! Rainbows and sunshine everywhere!!” Yeah. Bullshit like that. That’s really what it came across as to people who didn’t believe. Take Austin for example; he thought it was just some make believe thing that parents make up to scare their children, nothing more. Not like he would know what that felt like. He was scared of his parent in the first place! As ironic how that was, however.

Though he wasn’t sure if he really believed that right now, considering the location he just landed in. And yes, literally landed. Last thing he remembered was staring down at his trembling hands, his dark, cold to the touch gun laying on the snow next to where he was sitting, blood staining his pure white glove that he hadn’t even bothered to take off before he continued, which was barely distinguishable from the winter’s effect due to his blurred vision, the ground beneath him frozen solid. Nobody saw him of course, he was in the middle of a lonely forest, hardly any wildlife to accompany his site of self homicide. There was frostbite on the peak of his nose, his breath coming out as mild clouds of fog as the gunshot wound he formed in his chest spilling out dark, warm blood onto the pale ground beneath him as he slowly lost his vision.

But that was gone now. He felt perfectly fine. Well, aside from the pounding in his head. Unable to barely collect his own thoughts he clutched at his head, letting out a weak noise of pain as he forced himself to stand, using the armrest of a nearby bench to help him up. His eyes fluttered open, but he was quickly greeted by a completely new place. It wasn’t cold, it wasn’t the middle of nowhere… Where was it? It looked like an abandoned city people always talked about in newspapers. Honestly he would’ve thought that if it weren’t for the fact people were actively walking about the torn streets. Speaking of, wow there were a lot of cracks on the ground, not even including the buildings. It was like there was a mass earthquake and nobody bothered to fix it after. It was a comparable replica of Brooklyn, in which… well, it’s 10 times worse.

A red shaded sky overhung the sky, which Austin assumed to be from some sort of air quality disfigurement, but no, nothing seemed off while breathing at all. There was also some sort of black ball that looked like it would be the “sun,” and yet it had some sort of red pentagram type shape over it. Next to that, it was that but white and smaller, surrounded by wings and a shape that appeared to be a type of halo. In short, it looked much more divine. Gaze lingering on the floating object and all of its pinioned glory for a moment longer, he eventually looked back away, mind filled with confusion. What is this place?

The town was full of noise; the sounds of people engaging in conversation, cars (that people were driving quite recklessly, as if they didn’t care,) and… screaming, all mixing into one big overwhelming noise, making Austin’s ears ring on top of the headache, which made him let out a weak whine of pain as he continued on, walking away from where he originally was. While entangling his fingers throughout his hair though, he noticed he was missing something. His hat. At the discovery, the man frowned, but didn’t want to think too hard on what happened to it. It was probably long gone by now.

When he was staring he suddenly noticed a large, neon sign that flickered randomly, signaling that it really wasn’t being taken care of, which caught his attention. WELCOME TO HELL. Oh, well that explains it. The views of the landscape, the fact everyone looks like absolute freaks… He was in Hell. Despite the fact he didn’t even believe in it, he was surprised he was even there. Why was he in this place!? He’s hot, he’s famous, and he’s nice! What did he possibly do that was so bad and landed him here? I mean yeah, he killed a few thousand people… and basically committed mass manipulation.. and— that’s not the point!!

He could definitely see how some other people got here, though. Fuck, they were murdering people right on the streets! Not to mention the cannibalism after… Who could loose so much dignity they do that in public! If anything do it where nobody’s gonna see you. He grimaced at people, though in all honesty he didn’t really give a shit. He’s seen it all before; their blood better not get on him, though. As if he jinxed it, while he was walking, he passed by a murder, the cause getting a tad bit of blood on Austin’s suit. He scowled, staring at them. "What the fuck? Do you not have any dignity!?" he yelled out, making the murderer then around and glance at him, a bloodied knife in hand, which also had small bits of gut on it. "How ‘bout you have some respect?" they scowled, until they saw what Austin actually looked like. Their attitude quickly changed and they got a stupid grin on their face, eyes narrowing. "Er.. Sorry ma’am. I swear I can make that up to you, if you know what I mean, doll," they commented on, voice dropping an octave as they got up in Austin’s personal space, who was glaring at them clearly pissed off. A few seconds into their silence, the singer glanced down, before looking back up. Yup, definitely a man. Surely he wouldn’t mind this, right?

With that, he forced a flattered smile, putting on a flustered little façade. "W-Who, me? Oh, I’d be delighted!" he spoke back. "Although, I sure hope you don’t mind if I do this first…" he muttered, before his face dropped and he brought his knee up, hitting him directly in the groin which made the stranger let out a yelp of pain, stumbling back. "What the- OW!!" he screamed out, his tone a mix of agony and frustration. The stranger fell onto the ground, curling up as he sucked air in between his teeth, arms clutched around his lower stomach as he writhes in pain. Austin reaches down and grabs onto the knife he had dropped down by his feet when he assaulted. "I’ll be using this," he said casually, before continuing on. "Oh, and it’s sir." He sunk the weapon into the side of their leg when he said that as to punctuate, causing a loud squelching noise as it sunk into their now exposed and bleeding flesh, mixing in with the stranger’s yelp of further pain, further penetrating the wound by sinking it in deeper using his foot, before giving one last remark as he steps back. "Bye, have a good day, baby! Love you," he smiled as if he hadn’t just done that, standing back up straight and going back on with his day.

Though, as he went on about his business, his smile fell. He still had no clue why he was where he was. Hell? Really??? This is shit. He didn’t deserve this. Ok, well if he seriously had to live here, he had to find a house, obviously. So where was there to start? Was he supposed to get an apartment? Yeah, hah. As if there was an actually decent place down here. If only people actually recognized him right now, everyone seemed to fall head over heels for him somehow, and now here he was, lost, covered in blood, and terribly sexy. Oh, the agony!

K. Actually, now. Think, Austin, think! Would he just suck it up and get an apartment? Would he wait until he wakes up from whatever fucked up dream this was? He didn’t know! Hopefully the latter though, this place was terrible. At least he felt okay. Physically. He stared back up at the red sky, the freedom of being able to stare up and not get blinded from the piercing sun being a surprising new sensation. He let out a sigh, running his gloved fingers through his soft hair, before going completely frozen as he felt something sensitive. The singer’s eyes narrowed in confusion, before poking where the feeling was, feeling an immediate shock go through his whole body, catching him off guard as he lets out a surprised squeak. What the hell??? Ow! Oh god, don’t tell me I’m one of these freaks walking around like it’s nobody’s business too. If I am, I better be hot.. he thought, going further on.

Austin still had no clue what to do, and he had been walking around for what felt like centuries by now, but it was only a small bit over 10 minutes. His legs were tired, and he wanted somewhere to rest. The upset expression on his face never went away, and in fact only got worse from when he started. Not even an hour into this, and he wanted out. There’s an entire list starting on what’s wrong right now. He’s hungry, he’s alone, he’s tired, he’s… Well, you get the idea. You know what I was going to say.

While moping around the town, he finally spotted something; an actually okay looking apartment building. Or so it looked. He walked over to it, grabbing onto the door knob on the see-through glass door and turning it gently, walking in. He was quickly greeted by the noise of people talking in the lobby; they must live here. "Hello, ma’am." Lost in his thoughts, he was startled as the person at the front desk spoke up, making Austin look over in confusion. "Yes, you. Are you here to get an apartment?"

"Uhm.." he mumbled, before spinning around to walk right back out. "No thanks. I’m good, I don’t need you or your shitty place." The person grimaced in confusion, before shrugging, watching him walk out. What an idiot, probably a crackhead.

Welp, he’ll just walk around. Hopefully he’ll find something… All this walking is getting annoying.

#A Gunslinger & A Conman #G&C #hazbin hotel oc #austin santiago #hazbin oc #original character #fanfic #hazbin fanfic #oc x canon #hazbin headcanons #headcanon

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requiemsystem · 1 year ago

Note

tw programming again

First of all we're so grateful you answered our previous ask! Yeah we had already read that post when we sent the ask, it's just that we don't remember anything that could fall under any of that (or really much of our childhood experiences at all asides from being a gullible child desparate for approval) so we feel like it's not helping much unfortunately

We've spoken more to our friend and they gave a bit more info about stuff (including about side systems and layers and…) but it just all feels confusing and makes us real nervous. They are trying to help us but can't do so for too long as a time due to their own programming. As a result there's just so long between moments of information and the uncertainty is just so stressful… Which I guess is why we're messaging you, a stranger on the internet 😅 Sorry about that

They're really convinced we're programmed though. Mainly giving reasons like our innerworld itself being aggressive and harmful towards certain alters (now that we think about it, it mainly does that towards the one who most desires to escape our situation) or stuff like many innerworld things resetting overnight (things that happened the previous day often no longer existing/having any effects). These are things they also experience as a programmed system.

Do you have any clue about like, any of this and if it's signs? We're not asking you to say whether or not we're programmed, that's far too much to ask from you, we just wanna know more about what's going on without risking researching things dangerous to us. Thanks again!

-❄️

One of us is so desperate for finding confirmation on whether or not we are that they've tried to start researching it (mostly finding sketchy sources) but we've been able to convince them to let it rest for now

innerworld being aggressive is not programming specific, ive never heard of innerworld resets so i cant comment on that. if you have signs of being programmed such as like alters who will get triggered into a mindset where they "have" to do something "or else" when exposed to a very specific trigger, that is more like a sign of a program. what youre describing seems to just be the way your system functions as ive met some non-programmed systems with aggressive innerworlds as well - grey

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olivyh · 2 years ago

Note

I was rereading ttv the other day and I've been wondering about how the nrc students would react to finding out mc died(ending 2)🤔🤔

I feel like malleus would be hit the hardest after finding out his "best friend" just perished, MAYBE he'll look into necromancy..

THATS SUCH A GOOD THOUGHT OMG

Tw: Mentions od death, dismemberment, necromancy, general horror and gore

The necromancy was the first thing that called my attention when you reached out!!! Thats such a cool idea to play with- and it opens up a whole other story!! I think Malleus would definitely be the most heartbroken out of everyone in the cast. He's just lost his best friend (or "pet", more like it), so why would he stop at letting them die?

Of course, necromancy comes with some issues, for one, you can't revive a soul, so it's likely that mc would be a shell of their former self, just an echo of who was once living. It could also tie into the idea of using the magicial's soul to bring back the dead, which would link Malleus and mc forever (again, another cool path to explore).

I think the thingmost of the students would be most interested in would be the "otherworldly" characteristics that they could exploit (and not the fact that they were a very real person). Riddle would try to obtain some of their blood to paint the roses, seeing if it makes the flowers last longer or to give to Trey to see if there are any side effects. I think Octavinelle would use mc's body for a similar reason, selling it to unsuspecting students claiming that it would give them some mystifying ability,,,

I don't think Scarabia or Savanaclaw (well, just Leona, I guess) would particularly care about mc's death. Leona would have liked to see what they tasted like, but it's not like he DOESN'T have a dorm full of beastmen he's willing to strike down for a quick snack. Kalim would be disappointed at the loss of another familiar face at a party, but he kind of assumed they would die sooner or later so he would be indifferent (same with Jamil, who would be surprised that they lasted as long as they did).

Rook would likely try to also get ahold of the corpse (once again, to expierment on) and would spew poetry about how they've been reunited with Jack. Vil would also want some of them, just to preserve what little was left of them to place on the now empty pillar (due to his latest masterpiece being shattered and stolen).

Idia would be upset that he no longer had someone to take his frustration out on, seeing that he only used to berate mc for destroying ortho. Once he gets Ortho's ai up and running, the little robot would be so heartbroken about the loss of his new friend :( He would try to convince Idia to change his mind, but the elder would be so blind is his own anger at what heppened that whatever Ortho says goes right over his head.

The rest of Diasomnia would be indifferent (aside from Lilia, who would likely still be mourning the loss of his son), as well as the teachers.

#twst #ttv #twst true villains #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #twisted wonderland fanfic #twisted wonderland fanfiction

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years ago

Text

More Than Sex

TW: Jealous!Rafe. Soft smut. Language. Mentions of alcohol and marijuana. Slight angst due to love confession and jealousy.

SUMMARY: Your friend with benefits situationship with Rafe takes an unexpected turn as your actions prompt him to make a confession.

WORD COUNT:

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Rafe req : when reader and rafe are bestfriends and smoke weef together but occasionally hook up/fwb but when reader flirts/hooks up with jj topper and kelce see that rafe gets jealous and he tells you that it wasn’t ‘just sex’ for him but that he’s in love with you and they get together and confess and everything 💛

*WASN’T SURE IF YOU WANTED SMUT OR NOT SO I KEPT IT MORE OF A CONFESSION PIECE*

More Than Sex

You questioned quite often if Rafe was capable of love. It was one of those thoughts that were mindless when high, looking over to the man in question and beyond curious to just what it was running through his mind as you were both feeling the effects of the marijuana. But this didn’t seem to affect your relationship with him as you had the perfect arrangement that allowed you to quell that carnal curiosity your best friend led you to have since you could remember, while also having the freedom to learn what you really wanted. After all, Rafe Cameron was many things, but boyfriend material wasn’t exactly one of them. Maybe if he was able to have a conversation without resorting to bloodying his knuckles when a disagreement would rival his views or maybe show a sense of romance behind the lust. But it made you understand that he was just as at ease with this friends with benefits situation you had agreed upon over the last year.

But how wrong you were…

As you finished making your rounds through another Kook party, Rafe had parted from you to get you a drink while you were approached by Topper. In the same way Rafe had a camaraderie with you aside from that of a lustful pull, the handsome surfer, and best friend to your lover and friend, held the same. Even if it wasn’t as intense, you were always somewhat curious to what his touch would feel like. But every instance in which you would decide to learn of this, you would always go back to Rafe. Because as much as you wanted everything to stay inconsequential and indifferent, even distant from emotion, being with him was the only way you could be completely yourself as he was equally as broken and when together, those pieces seemed to fit in unison to create something all your own. Chaos and lust. The two words chosen to describe your connection to perfection.

“I could always teach you…” Topper offered as you spoke of surfing, an activity you never really held much interest in as you were honestly terrified of being embarrassed with a lack of equilibrium that was required for the sport. But you did love to watch him as he mastered the curves of each coming wave. After all, you were not bound to anyone. But you wished you were. The same ‘anyone’ that had caught your eye throughout the conversation with Topper as he noticed this and pulled your hips against him.

“First we got to work on your calibration…” But with what should have been an innocuous bout of flirtation would send Rafe off in a huff as he pushed past Topper, forcing his shoulder into his until he was left rubbing it, as you remained to ensure his victim was alright before eventually following in his step.

“What was that about, Rafe?”

“Just go back to your boyfriend, okay?”

“Even if I had one, you have no right to treat me like this…”

“I do when-” He stopped himself as you awaited for his words, but he would just stare, battling if he should even speak them, before silencing you both with hands on either side of your cheeks.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you really think I can stand to see you with anyone else?! After everything we do?”

“We’re friends-”

“Fuck that!” He shot, surprising you as he had never made any grand confession to you before that wasn’t under the guise of some influence. But to this, he was completely sober, a rarity, but something you favored when looking at him like this for you.

“I thought you just wanted to fuck me…” You tested him as he clenched his jaw. “Isn’t that what you did this morning? Last night? In the pool house last week?” You loved puling at him, usually something reserved for sex, but in this instance, you wanted to see how far you could unravel him.

“Because we’re friends-” You spoke again as he was quick to stand across from you, glaring down at you.

“A quick fuck and maybe I’d believe it. But the way you look at me when you feel me come inside of you…It’s the same way I look at you whenever I just have you next to me! Watching anybody else touch you or look at you-talk to you, and I want to tear ‘em to shreds. And the fact that you think Topper can love you like I can?” He paused, clenching his jaw, aware of the words spoken, but not prepared to acknowledge them until knowing your reaction.

“You don’t love me, Rafe-”

“I told myself it wasn’t that. I told myself I was obsessed. I told myself I was bored. But I want more than sex…because this has been more than sex for so long and you know it. I don’t know what game you are playing in trying to get him to fuck you, but it woun’t feel like it would with me. Because what we have is more than any of that. No matter how deep someone else is inside of you, you will ALWAYS wish it was me because you know I love you-you’ve known it. We’ve just been too stubborn. So there. I love you. Okay? Go see-”

“Oh my God!” You silenced him with a kiss as he paused for a second and glared when you pulled away.

“I don’t want to fuck you-” He corrected.

“Then make love to me, Rafe. Isn’t that what two people in love do?”

“I need to hear you say it…Please…” He set his forehead to yours as you would torture him for a moment before finally offering him those words.

“I love you, Rafe-” You were forced against his kiss, strong lips reminding you of the words he’d spoken.

“Prove it.” He challenged.

“You want me to do that ten feet from our friends? Ten feet from Topper’s possibly fractured arm?”

“His cock will thank me since he only uses it to jerk off to you-”

“Rafe!”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t notice him practically fondling you in front of everyone!”

“So what if he was? I love you.” He carried his hand to your face until it slipped into your hair, pulling it dominantly until you were set at an uncomfortable bend in looking up to him.

“Yeah?” You nodded.

“So nobody else is going to teach you to surf either.”

“Oh, YOU can?” You chuckled.

“There are things you don’t know about me…”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I think I know you pretty well…Everything from your favorite color to the way you can make me shake with only your tongue.”

He blushed with pride before smirking.

“Wrong again.” Your brows narrowed.

“You don’t know EVERYTHING I can do with it.”

You moved closer, “Then prove it, Cameron.” You sauntered to the direction of the pool house, a night spent in repetitive confessions and a promise to ditch the ‘friend’s title in your relationship, binding you together once and for all beneath orgasms and the loving hold bringing you to the arms of the man you loved.

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor @belcalis9503

#rafecameron x reader #rafecameronfanfiction #rafecameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obxsmut #obx fanfiction #outer banks

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shiyorin · 2 years ago

Note

I am a heretic I am very heretic please Yandere Alphabet Ferrus Manus

Yes, you are heretic. Chaos is proud of you.

Tw: Yandere

Yandere Alphabet Ferrus Manus

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Ferrus hates the idea of being affectionate with someone, because it would make him too vulnerable. He'd be very reluctant about the idea at first, and maybe even hostile towards it... but over time, he'd learn to tolerate it, because he really does care for you. He'd try to hint at his affection for you by doing subtle things, instead of outright showing it. He'd do things that make you happy behind the scenes, without you really knowing it. But when his obsession begins to set in, things would start to get really intense and he's terrified about that fact.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He absolutely wouldn't be willing to get messy. He'd probably try to keep things mostly calm and controlled. He has a line that he won't cross, for any reason. But you wouldn't want to know how much he tried keeping back.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Harsh but not cruel. He'd take his time at first, trying to wear you down with persistence rather than outright brutality. After all, he is very utilitarian. He would rather just get his goal, rather than waste what he thinks is meaningless time by making you feel suffering unnecessarily. Yes, he knows sometimes being cruel makes the process faster but he wants an effective plan, not a fun one that'll prolong your suffering; Would he mock you? If it is necessary for his goal, yes.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

If he felt like it was necessary, he would, yes. He'd restrict your freedom, try to restrain you, or possibly even use some kind of sedative, and if he needs to go further than restraint, then he would. He's not doing this for his own gratification, he sees this as a completely pragmatic process. He's trying to accomplish something, and if violating you will make this more efficient, then he would have little regard for your well-being and comfort.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He'd bare it very reluctantly. He wouldn't show it right away, probably not until he has you in a vulnerable position. Ferrus'd try to remain aloof and detached until he has you completely reliant upon him, only opening up about his feelings once it's too late for you to back out.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Very annoyed. He'd be upset that you weren't being cooperative and were making things more difficult than you needed to be. It could also make him more ruthless in his pursuit, because once again the idea of inefficiency seems to get him angry.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It wouldn't be a game to him, this is more like a job that he's trying to get done in the most efficient way possible. He wouldn't enjoy you trying to escape. He probably finds it more annoying. If he could, he would just knock you out and prevent you from trying to escape or resist your situation.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When he crosses his line and uses excessive force, far beyond what would be considered necessary for the situation. If he thinks his process might be better through the use of a very violent method, then he would use it. He's not cruel and wouldn't enjoy inflicting the violence, but he wouldn't hesitate to do so, and he'd try to rationalize why his brutality was justified to you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

A world where everything's going swimmingly for the Imperium, and they just have a simple, tender love. But the actual future is much more bleak.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Ferrus definitely gets jealous, he hates it when he doesn't have control of his emotions and tries to find a way to cope with his jealousy first, but he has a very low tolerance for these kinds of things. So if things go too far, he’d lash out.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He'd definitely be very reserved and stoic around you. A lot of the time he'd have this look on his face which could be accurately described as "done with this." Most people wouldn't ever be able to tell that he truly does like you through interacting with him, and that's because of how he prefers to keep his emotions very close to the chest. But on certain occasions, he might let those boundaries slip. Maybe on rare instances, he'd allow himself to be a little tender - in certain moments, he might allow himself to soften up.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Ferrus'd probably spend an amount of time coming up with a solid plan to do so. Not a romantic plan, because he'd be very averse to anything that could be considered too emotional, but a really efficient plan. There'd probably be steps that were way too specific, and a whole lot of backup contingency plans just in case. At the end of the day it'd probably end up being pretty successful because of it. Well… Hope so.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

When it comes to anyone else, he's pretty much closed-off, stoic, not particularly expressive. However, around you, he is much softer (well, by his definition of that is). He shows a more raw and authentic version of himself, instead of the one that he puts up for show and for intimidation.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He wouldn't particularly enjoy punishing you, but rather, he does so out of a sense of necessity. To him, it's necessary to punish to maintain that control over the relationship. His punishments would depend on how much you resisted him. But most of the time he just locks you up.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Pretty much. He only lets you keep the things you need to stay alive. He'd put your lives in a very structured environment, where everything is going exactly as he wants it to.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Not very patient at all. He has a very limited tolerance for things that he considers unproductive or pointless. Especially when it comes to your lack of cooperation. He doesn't like his time being wasted.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

I feel like he couldn't move on. Not only emotional attachment to you, since the situation is purely practical for him, but also because he's wasted so much time on this; If you successfully escape, he'd be very angry. His biggest hate is being inefficient and losing, and you escaping would be a combination of that. As a prideful person, he'd refuse to accept it, and he'd be determined to hunt you down and re-capture you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, not guilty about abducting. He would absolutely be frustrated with himself, however, because the fact is that, if he'd been more efficient, then this wouldn't have happened in the first place. So that frustration would overpower any feelings of guilt. And he won't ever let you go, he's gone so far already that it wouldn't make sense to give up now.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His emotional restraint. He's spent so much time suppressing any desire for affection that he's become very numb to it. Not in a way that he doesn't understand love, but just that he doesn't experience it in the same way as others. And your presence has turned his worldview upside down. He's never shown any real interest in love, so he was unprepared for how much your presence affected him. For the first time, he's had to feel something new. And he hates the way that it feels.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He'd find it incredibly annoying! It's making his work significantly more difficult, after all. He doesn't understand why you can't just take it. And he wouldn't ever admit that it hurts him to see you that way.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Ferrus is more pragmatic in his methods than your average yandere. He doesn't enjoy the pain he's inflicting, he just sees it as something that, at this point, is necessary. So that means that all of his methods are purely driven by what he thinks will be the most efficient.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

While his pragmatic makes him very effective, it also makes him very much closed off to emotional responses. He wouldn't allow himself to be emotionally affected by anything unless it aligned with his goals, so his emotional responses would be very shallow. If you can get him off balance between reason and emotion, you'll probably have some time to run away. The problem, of course, is actually getting his emotions out in time to cause this conflict in the first place, because he suppresses them so effectively.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

If it's necessary, yes. It would hurt him too, of course, but he'd view it as necessary to maintain his control.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He'd absolutely revere his love interest, but he would never admit to that. His reason and pride doesn't allow him to. So, he would always be framing the relationship in a very transactional way.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Even though he's not patient, he's incredibly persistent, and he's not prone to rash thoughtless decisions. And surprisingly, it's hard for him to snap. I think there would have to be a pretty substantial buildup.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If his emotional limit is reached, his rage would cause him to completely lose all logic and reason. He'd be horrified at what he'd done afterwards, but at the moment he'd be far too blinded by his emotion to realize what a poor decision he'd made.

#wh40crack.#tw: yandere #cw: yandere #ferrus manus #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k #actually i don't think it's romantic #yandere au #shiyorin's writer #shiyorin's answer

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drawing-dinos82 · 9 months ago

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To save any other hive members who haven’t been on recently, yes it has been deleted

Below is a post from Moonwatcher127 (Brook). Image description is in alt text

Brook has said they will try to get the studio back.

(I would like to preface what I’m about to say by saying that I am going off the information I have, and will edit this if anyone has any updates or information they think is important. I am going off much of this information from this person’s blog on tumblr)

This deleting (possibly) occurred because @c0lony-c0llapse (Sting, they/them), a user who was upset at the negative mental health effects caused by the studio. They felt that the studio was targeting vulnerable queer youth with corrupt managers, curators who are bullies, promotion of identity discourse, and favoritism.

They go on to say that they were a person who was harmed by this studio and the things mentioned above. They say that they were a loyal person in the Gaehive community for years before managers turned their backs and spread lies about Sting.

Now onto how it (possibly) happened. Sting wanted to boycott the studio until the managers had to make changes. Their end goal was to get the entire studio removed. They wanted these things because they didn’t want more young people to be harmed by this studio. They were hyper focused on identity discourse and making enemies as a child.

Sting said that they think that being queer should be liberating, not limiting and said that this studio fed on fighting and disagreements to keep its managers in power.

TDLR: A tumblr (and scratch) user named Sting ( @c0lony-c0llapse they/them) wanted to take down the Gaehive because they felt it was harmful to queer youth because of its corrupt ways.

Many other users on here are seemingly against such extreme measures, though many acknowledge that the studio wasn’t in the best place recently.

Please don’t go harass anyone mentioned in this post, none of them deserve it and I also do not know Sting’s scratch handle. This post is entirely what I could find about this situation, aside from my opinions below. I do not know if Sting’s actions led to the removal of the Gaehive.

Below is just my opinions on this. TW for mentioned SH

Wow. I really don’t know what to say. The gaehive was a large part of my life during the pandemic. I met friends there, I learned about my identity, and I just had a good time.

I had some bad experiences on there, but the good outweighed the bad (for the most part). I was there for the controversies and changes. Hopefully this can get resolved, for all the people who depend on that studio to feel safe and accepted.

Now about Sting’s stuff.

I do agree that the studio was harmful for queer youth and it did have a lot of fighting in it, but it also helped people to find themselves.

The Gaehive definitely saved some people from taking their lives or self harming. It was definitely not the place for this, given that it was on a website for literal children, but it helped people none the less.

It had joy in it and a sense of community. For many people, it was the only place they could be themselves because they weren’t safe to be who they were irl.

About the managers, I don’t know what to say. Most of the managers were fine and I was pretty close with one or two during my peak time in the hive. I don’t know how much changed during my inactivity and I do acknowledge that everyone’s experiences are different.

I think that the problems in the Gaehive need a civil solution, not a complete uprising. This is also all over a studio on a coding website meant for children.

Again, please don’t go harass anyone mentioned in this post, none of them deserve it and I also do not know Sting’s scratch handle. This post is entirely what I could find about this situation, aside from my opinions above. I do not know if Sting’s actions led to the removal of the Gaehive.

guess the hive is gone im not going to miss it though

#gaehive #hiveblr #Mako’s post #tw self h4rm

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salazarslytherin · 4 years ago

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under the waxing moon (r.l x y/n)

requested: yes!! [could you do a young remus lupin smut perhaps? if not than cedric!! one with a marking kink, maybe!! and (fem) reader has love bites all over her and remus has scratches on his back from her yk.... and maybe the marauders notice or something cheeky like that at the end! thank u my love!!] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

cw/tw: smut, marking!kink, hickeys, oral sex (both male and female receiving), fingering, idk just sex man, basically porn without plot

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i hope you guys like it! i wasn't sure whether there were any cw/tw other than the ones listed? if you guys notice any please leave a comment or dm or smth to let me know! thanks :) ALSO i realise i use the word 'boy' a lot jic that makes people uncomfortable all the characters in my fics are of age, i just don't feel comfortable calling them men :/ anw, if you like it please leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost xx

☯︎ tag list

The door slammed shut behind you two as Remus kicked backward, not that either of you would have stopped what you were doing should the door have stayed open.

His hands were currently in one of his favourite spots – nestled under your thighs while your legs were curled around his waist, hands clinging to his neck like you were afraid he'd dissipate into thin air if you were to let go for a second.

Your two mouths moved furiously against each other, his tongue furiously dominating yours as he brought you two towards his bed, bringing you along with him like you weighed nothing.

"Fuck, I can't wait any longer."

Remus tossed you onto the bed, his tall stature casting a long shadow above you as the late morning light shone through the Gryffindor tower windows, the young werewolf's smirk glowing beautifully in the bright light.

"Then hurry up and have me."

The words seemed to do the trick, breaking the trance Remus was in– scanning your body almost in a predatory fashion. It was hot. The prefect almost growled at the sound of your words, diving back down to press his lips to yours, hands by your head, impassioned by the waxing moon.

As the full moon drew closer, you found that Remus' libido would be heightened. He often drew you into empty classrooms, broom closets, once even getting you off in the Three Broomsticks during a Hogsmeade trip. But you weren't complaining. You got your boyfriend's mind off the full moon, and an – actually, several, intense orgasms? It was a dream come true.

As you were lost in your thoughts about the last full moon, Remus had found his way away from your lips, trailing soft kisses down your jaw to the sensitive spot behind your ear, sucking roughly to draw a moan out of you, and effectively, you out of your thoughts.

"Mm, you like that? Like it when I mark you? When the whole school knows who you belong to?"

Nodding, the words vibrated against your skin as Remus traveled down your neck, never hesitating to bite and suck on every last bit of naked skin he could find. Your hands had moved from behind his neck down to his button-up, detaching each one in a frenzy to see him, to feel him.

His hands did very much the same, moving down your own school shirt to unveil your bra, showing more skin as his lips ventured lower down your body towards your collarbone– his favourite place to leave a mark. Nibbling on your left collar, Remus balanced himself on his elbows, moving to grind his hard-on on your clothed crotch.

"Fuck yes, Re I need you. Please."

Your hands had landed themselves on his pants, unbuckling his belt and pants with shaking hands as the two of you moaned together. He detached himself from you for a second, both of you undressing entirely in record time before latching back on immediately, your lips melding together before the two of you had even hit the bed.

Remus' knee found itself between your legs, nudging them apart as his hands sought residence roaming your body, leaving light trails that caused shivers throughout.

One hand eventually landed on your breasts, alternating between massaging and squeezing them as you elicited moans with each movement. The other made its way down to your thighs, gripping onto them hard, sure to leave fingerprints for the next two weeks, purple reminders of this night.

Whining against his lips, you took matters into your own hands, grabbing onto his hard-on and squeezing lightly around the base, making Remus growl in return.

You began moving your hand slowly up and down Remus' shaft, your thumb spreading the small droplets of precum that had gathered, picking up the pace as the werewolf let out breathy moans, moving away from your lips to bite onto your neck.

Continuing to jerk Remus off, your other hand reached down to tug at his balls. When you felt him start to twitch in your grasp you let go, making the boy gasp as he abandoned the section of your neck he was currently sucking a hickey onto, in shock at the fact that you had pushed him so close to the edge and not let him cum.

Smiling innocently at your boyfriend, you rolled him over– an action he definitely hadn't expected and kissed him on the lips, before making your way down his body.

"Couldn't let you cum like that. I want to taste you."

⚔︎

You gave a little kitten lick to the werewolf's leaking slit, making him moan as he propped himself up onto his elbows, watching you go down on him, fascinated.

You swallowed the tip, swirling your tongue around the head and grazing your teeth softly against the shaft. Remus' hands flew to your hair, tightening his grip as you hollowed your cheeks on his member.

You answered by sinking your nails into his thighs, scratching down slightly as he impatiently push you down further, moaning out as he felt his tip touch the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You looked up at the boy through your eyelashes, lost in euphoria as he looked back down at you through hooded eyes, one hand leaving your hair for a brief second to caress your cheek, before flying back to pull your hair as you pulled off of him to swirl your tongue around his head.

Having already been pushed so close to the edge, it didn't take long for Remus to start twitching in your mouth again, the only indication of him reaching his orgasm aside from the sudden pull on your scalp.

The boy threw his head back, letting out a loud moan that you were sure would be heard down in the common room, before gripping onto your hair tightly and thrusting up into your mouth.

Ropes of white hit your throat, letting go of Remus' cock with a pop, before swallowing his seed, looking down at the boy panting beneath you.

"I fucking love you."

He pulled you down onto him, wrapping his hands around you to meld your lips against his, the two of you gripping each others' hips as Remus rolled you to the bottom again.

"Now I'm going to pound you into the fucking bed baby."

⚔︎

Remus' fingers slid inside of you without a hassle, you were so wet it was as if your body was welcoming him. He prepped you at a pace that was so quick you didn't dare to think how intense he'd be later.

Remus wasn't one to break a promise.

Your nails drew thick lines down Remus' back as he added a second finger, scissoring the two inside of you, hitting your g-spot which made you let out a small shout in response, gripping onto his shoulders with your nails.

"Re, oh God."

Your back arched off the mattress, eyes falling shut as you threw your head back, moaning louder and louder as Remus drew fervent circles on your clit.

Remus watched you from above, smirking as he moved down to suck on your tit, leaving a hickey above your nipple.

A third finger slid into your hole, your walls slowly fluttering around Remus' fingers as you felt a heat begin bubbling in your stomach, your toes curling as your orgasm quickly approached.

"Re, fuck, please, Re!"

You scratched onto Remus' back, gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you drew closer, until your high was denied, the nails that were gripping onto his shoulders relaxing in shock.

"What the fuck!"

The boy shot you a smirk as he looked down upon you, leaning in to nibble on your earlobe, whispering in your ear.

"You only get to cum with me inside of you."

⚔︎

Remus brushed the head of his cock up and down your folds, collecting your essence before pushing in, the both of you moaning at the feeling.

He pushed in further, bottoming out as you gripped onto his back, drawing thick red lines down it. Your tits pushed up against his scarred chest as he fucked into you slowly, sucking a hickey into your jaw.

Remus moved out of you so that only his tip remained, right before slamming back into you, making you moan out at the movement, his hands moving to land a firm slap on your thigh, his pace increasing every time he landed another slap. The small bits of pain mixed with pleasure, Remus' hollow slaps aiming only to arouse you rather cause any pain.

As he moved in and out of you, his hands gripped onto your thighs rather than continuing to deliver hits. He held onto them firmly enough to leave a bruise while maneuvering them so that your knees pressed against your own torso, hitting you with a new angle that caused him to brush against your g-spot with every movement, his crotch rubbing against your clit with every thrust.

Your lips found their way to Remus' shoulder, biting hard onto the skin to suck a hickey into it, biting down particularly hard as Remus' thrusts grew stronger, causing the boy to let out a guttural moan.

"D'you like this baby? Marking me up, showing everyone who I get to fuck every night?"

You nodded into Remus' neck, his own lips kissing your neck as his tongue darted out to trace the red marks he'd left behind, sure to turn a dark purple for everyone to see later tonight.

His hips moved at a vicious speed, the sound of skin on skin being the only sounds to echo around the room aside from the raspy sounds that would emerge from both of your throats, the two of you too immersed in the pleasure to make any proper sounds.

"Re. I, close."

Your walls began pulsing around Remus, incoherent moans leaving your mouth as your orgasm began to build for the second time that day, one hand moving away from your thigh to massage your bundle of nerves, his lips moving back on top of yours.

"Cum for me baby, I want to see you scream my name."

Despite his own orgasm building, Remus never faltered in his movements, his hips snapping to hit just the right spot to bring you closer and closer to the edge, his chest pushing down your knees as his hand moved to hold your neck, admiring the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as the two of you build towards your climaxes.

"Such a pretty girl baby, all marked up and fucked out. You ready to cum yet?"

Nodding despite the hand wrapped around your neck, you threw your head back, your hands never ceasing in their movements to draw lines on Remus' back.

"I–fuck, yes, Remus!"

White clouded your vision as your orgasm hit you– a tidal wave followed by ripples that came in the form of Remus' slowing, yet still strong, thrusts into you, his head brushing against your g-spot with each movement which made you whine with each moment, your juices leaking out from around him, making you impossibly more wet than before, sinful sounds echoing from around the room.

"Cum for me Remus, I want to feel you fill me up."

Your hands reached out for the boy above you, pulling him down so that both your heads nestled in each other's necks. Tired from your orgasm, you were still eliciting noises as the boy moved in and out of you, him moaning as he felt your walls tighten around him with every other movement.

"Yes baby, I'm going to cum, fuck."

The werewolf moaned, muffling it by biting into your red neck, leaving yet another mark to remind you of this day. You felt hot spurts of Remus' cum hit you, moaning as a new warmth filled your hole.

The boy fell on top of you completely, his knees giving out under the ecstasy he experienced.

⚔︎

You whined slightly as Remus pulled out of you, suddenly feeling empty when he left you.

Your combined juices flowed out of you in that moment, but the sadness you felt was suddenly replaced with a shot of pleasure, the werewolf leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lower lips.

"Such a good girl, letting me cum inside her twice."

The kiss turned into a tongue, teasing at your sensitive entrance as Remus licked at the juices flowing out of you, drawing moans from your mouth that you didn't know you still had the energy for.

"It'd only be fair if my baby got to cum twice too, wouldn't it?"

Your eyes fell close again, nodding as your hands searched for Remus' body below you, trying to find something to grab, something to grip onto.

"I need to hear you darling, otherwise I don't know what you want me to do."

A smirk fell on the boy's lips, making you want to cry out in frustration as he moved away from your cunt, instead peppering kisses and sucking on the soft skin of your inner thighs, intent on marking you there.

"Fuck, Remus make me cum again."

The boy hummed against your thigh, moving away to admire a small hickey he'd left behind.

"Not good enough baby. I need to know how much you want it, I'm not here to be told what to do."

Tears welled in your eyes as you grew more and more frustrated, tired from the first round already you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching Remus much like how he watched you when you sucked him off.

"Please Remus, I need you to make me cum again. Please?"

Your bottom lip stuck out, making the boy chuckle. Another stupidly handsome smirk grew onto the boy's lips, leaning down to dart his tongue out onto your slit, flicking over your nub for a brief second.

"Of course Y/N, anything for you."

You fell back on the mattress as Remus dove back in, his hands gripping your thighs to push them apart, fingers digging in yet again to leave as many marks on you as possible.

He sucked on your abused clit, tongue darting back and forth at the same rhythm as his hands, massaging your thighs with his fingers. His mouth moved lower, drawing figures on your lips as his tongue danced around, occasionally dipping into your hole, fucking you with the appendage.

"Oh Re, faster."

The boy below obliged with a moan that sent ripples up your spine, fucking his tongue in and out of you at a speed reminiscent of the way he pounded into you mere minutes ago, two fingers moving to rub rapid circles onto your clit.

Moans grew into pants as you felt him speed up, your toes curling as your hands gripped onto his hair, pulling Remus' mouth further onto your pussy.

Your thighs trembled as your orgasm built, pushing you over the edge as your walls clenched around Remus' tongue, the boy muttering a 'cum for me' onto your lips.

You released with a shout, legs shaking as you pulled Remus' hair tightly, your back arching off the mattress as you rode out your high, Remus continuing to eat you out until you were reduced to a twitching mess.

"Feeling good?"

⚔︎

An hour after your activities, Remus walked the two of you into the Great Hall, both of you famished and ready to stuff yourselves with lunch.

You tried not to limp as you walked, and then had to brace yourself as you sat down on the wooden bench, Remus kissing you softly on the cheek as he joined you, greeting James and Sirius with a smile.

"Hey Y/N!"

Your housemates called out to you, prompting you to wave at them in return, before moving to serve yourself some food.

"Merlin, Y/N did you get mauled?!"

Peter came towards the table, dropping himself in the seat across from you.

"I–, what?"

The boy gestured towards your neck, making the other two marauders crane to see what Peter was talking about.

"Fuck, Y/N, what the hell happened?"

Remus looked down at your neck, then turned red as he realised what the boys were talking about. In the past hour or so, your hickeys had darkened immensely, covering every part of you, from behind your ears down to your collarbones– which could be seen from the undone top buttons of your blouse.

"Uh, I uh."

You had also caught on to what the boys meant, biting your lip as you looked down at your food.

Remus suddenly felt very warm, his skin heating up, rolling up his sleeves and tugging at his collar to let some cool air touch his skin.

"Oh, Moony! You really didn't have to mark her up that much you know. I think the point's been made. The whole world already knows she's yours."

Sirius chuckled and elbowed James, pointing down at Remus' arms.

"Look, I'm thinking Moony's not the only possessive one here at the table y'know."

The thick lines you'd drawn up and down the werewolf's arms still remained, and the few hickeys you'd left on his neck were small, but still noticeable.

Your cheeks heated, shifting your hair as best you could to cover up your neck. Remus let down his sleeves, shifting his collar and let out a cough.

"Moony just gets antsy 'round the full moon, y'know?"

1K notes · View notes

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

Text

Twin!AU Part 3:

Hunith and Uther alike have to face the consequences of their actions, Merlin (and everyone, really) decides that family doesn’t end in blood.

Part 1 Part 2

TW: Suicidal ideation (mostly past, but it sort of... flairs up a little here I guess)

Hunith’s face falls and she physically recoils at Merlin’s harsh declaration.

His hard gaze doesn’t leave her, even as she glances at Arthur, a little behind Merlin and to his side. The blonde has his gaze fixed on Hunith, but he looks away the moment they make eye contact, unable to stand the confused pain in her expression:

“Merlin? What happened?”

Lancelot and Percival approach slowly after handing the horses off to a couple of stablehands, and Gwaine puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, not that The Warlock notices; he clenches his jaw tightly before speaking, but continues resisting the urge to look away:

“You lied to me. About everything.”

Hunith’s eyes go wide and she gulps, opening her mouth and shutting it again as she struggles to think of a response. It’s then that Merlin finally looks away, gazing over the top of her head at the empty courtyard. Arthur quietly intervenes, his authoritative voice full of warring emotions despite it’s low volume:

“We should take this somewhere more private.”

Merlin doesn’t even nod, just turns around and walks back towards the castle, hands clenched tightly at his side before he pushes the doors open and stalks in without looking back. Gwaine and Arthur share a concerned look before the older knight rushes after him. Arthur gestures for Hunith to go first, but not without stopping her with a hand on her shoulder, and a muttered, almost teary:

“You had no right.”

Her face falls even further, but The Regent steps back and looks away before she can reply, and she timidly hurries through the door after Merlin and Gwaine. Arthur gives Lancelot and Percival a pointed look:

“I imagine we’ll be in my chambers, make sure we are undisturbed. I don’t want anyone interrupting unless the world is about to end. Let Leon and Morgana know that they can take charge of any meetings today.”

They both nod, but Lancelot jogs up the steps to stop Arthur before he can leave:

“I... know what she did was wrong, but don’t let Merlin be too harsh. He’s always been close to his mother, he’ll regret it later if he pushes her away completely.”

Arthur almost snaps out something about how Hunith isn’t Merlin’s mother, but he keeps it to himself, sighing and nodding:

“Yeah, I know, but she... she needs to know what this has done to him, how much he’s suffered needlessly because of this. There isn’t... I know she probably just did what she thought was right but... she needs to know. Merlin deserves an apology, and he certainly deserves the truth.”

Lancelot nods hesitatingly, but doesn’t say anything else, stepping aside to allow The Regent through. He catches up to the others just as Merlin slams the door open to his chambers, continuing to not look back as he heads over to the large dining table, leaning his hand against the back of one of the chairs and staring towards the window.

Gwaine and Arthur approach slowly, standing either side of him but not touching him as they wait in suspense for someone to start the conversation. Hunith already has tears in her eyes as she stands on the other side of the table, trying and failing to get Merlin to look at her. The harsh glare he laid on her before was horrific, but this... him being unable to look at her at all, that is worse:

“Merlin, please, I only did what-”

She’s cut off by Merlin’s harsh instruction:

“Sit.”

She glances to Arthur once more, but he just nods wordlessly at the chair in front of her; the only sounds in the room are the scraping of the chair on the stone floor and Merlin’s laboured breathing. He was evidently trying very hard to hold his anger in, and when he says nothing more once she’s sat down, Gwaine puts his hand back on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, finally turning to face Hunith but remaining unable to look in her eyes:

“Why?”

A tears slips loose from her eye and she sniffles, taking a deep, shaky breath and fiddling with her hands on the table. Arthur absent-mindedly wonders if Merlin would still do that too if he’d been raised with his actual family, if it was natural, or if he’d picked it up from her:

“Please, Merlin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

Merlin takes in a sharp breath, tightening his gip on the chair in a way that looks painful, shaking his head:

“No. No apologies, no excuses. I want to know exactly why you lied to me, why you took this from me.”

His voice is deadly in a quiet kind of way, like he could snap clean in two and set the world alight at any moment. Gwaine looks worriedly between the other two men, clearly thinking on the same lines as Lancelot, but neither of them notice, Merlin’s gaze stuck to the table and Arthur’s stuck on Hunith:

“I would have told you one day, Merlin, you-”

Merlin finally looks up at her, the blazing fury in his eyes contrasting in a rather horrific manner with the steady stream of tears on his cheeks:

“One day when? Arthur’s known about my magic for ages. I’ve been in Camelot for years, you have had every opportunity.”

Hunith lets out a low sob, but doesn’t look away:

“I didn’t think you were ready, Mer-”

Merlin bites his lip and turns away, running his hands through his hair harshly before turning around again, quick as lightening, and pointing an accusing finger at her:

“No, you weren’t ready! You weren’t ready to face the fact that you lied to me about who I am, because you knew you had no right, because you knew I would be angry!”

Hunith stands, but doesn’t make any moves to approach Merlin at Arthur’s harsh glare and Gwaine’s worried gesture. He doesn’t think Merlin or Arthur would hurt her, he’d never even consider the idea, but he knows that his partner needs space to be angry:

“I didn’t want you to be upset,-”

Merlin scoffs and lets out a sob of his own, wiping his face harshly before responding loudly:

“Gods, I wonder why I would be upset! Maybe because you lied to me about everything?!-”

Hunith shakes her head desperately, but Merlin carries on without pause:

“-You had no right to keep this from me! I grew up alone, with no one but you to rely on because you made me think I was some kind of beast! Keeping me from Camelot, I understand, keeping it from me as I child even, I understand. But you’ve had years of opportunity, you are selfish, a hypocrite and a coward.-”

Hunith looks horrified at his admission, mainly the sudden reveal at how her treatment of Merlin had effected him independently of the lie:

“-I hated myself, I was terrified, I didn’t want to exist, because of you! You made me think I was some kind of unnatural monster and then you sent me to Gaius under the guise of teaching me control, so he could carry on the lie for you! He promised me I wasn’t a monster, that I wasn’t born evil, over and over, but he’s lied to me from the moment I met him, how am I supposed to trust anything he says?! How am I supposed to trust anything you say when I was just some unwanted, throwaway thing that you never asked for, and got rid of at the earliest opportunity?!-”

Gwaine and Arthur stare at Merlin with matching heartbreak in their expressions; it seems that Merlin is upset at more than just the base lie. The New Prince doesn’t even try to stop the tears, his breathing quick and ragged, and after a few moments of thick silence, he takes a deep breath and quietly continues:

“-I didn’t have to be so alone, that was all you, and Gaius, and Kilgharrah, and everyone else who lied to me. When I had nothing, I had you, and you lied to me.-”

Merlin’s voice cracks, his breathing shaky and his face pale as his entire world seemingly crumbles down around him:

“-You took my brother from me and you had no right. You’re not my mother, you’re just as bad as Uther.”

With those last words, he storms from the room, Gwaine hot on his heels. Arthur stays however, feeling the need to comfort the crying woman, but also feeling, maybe slightly cruelly, that she deserves this. He sighs, pushing the though from his mind and moving around to put a hand on her shoulder as she buries her face in her hands, sobbing:

“I... you did your best, I think he knows that, but that doesn’t change what you took from him, from both of us. He needs time.”

She just about manages a nod, and Arthur sighs again, standing awkwardly for a few minutes before he realises she isn’t going to stop any time soon. He gently pushes her to sit back in the chair before heading to the door, following Gwaine and Merlin.

They’re not in the corridor when he shuts the door behind him, but he’s not surprised at that. Merlin has always been private about his true emotions, always kept them close to his chest, he wouldn’t want anyone to see him having a breakdown in the middle of the hall. Months ago, Arthur would have thought it was left over fear of his magic being discovered, but now he bitterly thinks that it probably has more to do with the way he was raised.

He runs a hand through his hair, sparing a glance to the—previously unnoticed—worried looking guards. Thankfully, they were two of the men that had been trusted with the truth (Arthur reminds himself to thank Leon later for paying attention to who was stationed where), so Arthur isn’t too worried at the fact that they had likely overheard the one-sided yelling match. He fixes them with a commanding stare and clears his throat:

“Escort the Lady Hunith to the physician’s chambers when she emerges, leave her with Gaius, but don’t rush her.-”

They bow briefly in acknowledgement of his orders, and his question comes out quietly:

“-Do you know where they went?”

They needn’t ask who, and one of the guards answers lowly, matching Arthur’s volume:

“I think they headed to Sir Gwaine’s chambers, Sire.”

He nods and mutters a quiet thank you, slowly heading in that direction, knowing he had to go see them but also wanting to give them few extra minutes of privacy. They still had a lot to take care of, they’d missed several council meetings over the last few days, and whilst Arthur trusts Leon and Morgana to keep things rolling, he really should be making regular appearances. That, and they still haven’t dealt with Uther; to be perfectly honest, Arthur is surprised that rumours haven’t started spreading about The King’s disappearance and Arthur’s sudden growth of responsibilities, but he’s grateful. Don’t look a gift Griffin in the mouth or... something.

He finally stops outside the knight’s room—nodding at Lance who wordlessly stands guard in the corridor—before flinching at the quiet crying he can hear from inside. He knocks a few times softly before entering, shutting the door behind him and approaching the bed. Gwaine sits leant against the headboard, tears in his eyes as he holds a shaking Merlin in his arms. The Warlock lays besides Gwaine, in the middle of the bed, his face buried in the knight’s chest and his hands twisted into the fabric of his tunic.

Arthur lets out a deep, mournful breath at the sight of his brother so distraught, and he moves around to the other side of the bed, raising his eyebrow in question at Gwaine and settling next to Merlin at his singular nod. Merlin doesn’t seem to notice his presence, not until Arthur settles a hand on his back and whispers his name. He instantly calms a little, and Gwaine mentally scolds himself for the slight flair of jealousy; Merlin had discovered he has a brother, that his best friend is his brother, it’s no surprise that he calms easier in his presence, especially considering the reveal unburied so much hidden trauma.

After a few more minutes, Merlin turns to be laying on his back, though he makes sure to stay in Gwaine’s embrace. The knight leans down to press a kiss to the top of his head, and though he can’t see it, he can almost feel the slight smile on The Warlock’s face. Arthur moves his hand back to his lap, looking at the two of them out of the corner of his eye; he sees nothing but worry and utter adoration on Gwaine’s face, and he wonders just how he hadn’t approved of their relationship. Gwaine’s whispered words just solidify Arthur’s newfound belief in the man:

“I love you, Merls, no matter what.”

Merlin lets out a quiet, choked laugh, and Gwaine considers that a win, even more so when Merlin responds in kind:

“I love you.”

Despite their relationship not being a particularly new thing, Arthur hadn’t even considered the possibility that they’d reached that far, that their partnership was that solid; perhaps that had something to do with their general lack of PDA, which he had always wondered how Gwaine had put up with. He grimaces with a quiet realisation, but it catches Merlin’s gaze and he raises a questioning eyebrow, his tears thankfully dried. Arthur glances up at Gwaine, who smirks at him knowingly, before looking back down to his brother:

“Making you Crown Prince is something I’m actually quite looking forward to, but I’m going to have to crown Gwaine as well.”

Gwaine snorts in amusement but Merlin turns pink and coughs slightly:

“Well.. we haven’t really discussed marriage, Arthur.”

Arthur looks to him with an apologetic expression:

“Merlin, royals have different courting rules. Royal partnerships tend to be incredibly short before a marriage has to happen. Back when me and Gwen were courting, we hid not only because Uther wouldn’t have approved, but also because we didn’t want to rush things. I’m especially glad we did now, otherwise we would have had to be married by now. The whole kingdom know that you two have been together for at least a year, the moment you’re crowned...”

His voice trails off as he comes to a second, horrifying realisation. He stands from the bed and stares at Gwaine with wide eyes and a pale face:

“Oh my God. Oh my God. If neither me, you, or Morgana have children... once you two have been married... Gwaine will officially be third in line for the throne. Oh... fuck.”

Merlin and Gwaine freeze for just a moment before they burst into loud laughter, and Arthur shakes his head, pacing slightly and not paying attention to the knocking at the door. Lancelot walks in slowly, an amused smile of his face despite his confusion:

“Do I even want to ask?”

Arthur fixes him with an almost distraught gaze before glaring half-heartedly at Merlin:

“Why? Why couldn’t it have been Leon, or Lancelot?? Elyan or Percival?? Hell, I would have been happier with fucking George.”

Gwaine’s laughter gets even louder but Merlin calmly wipes the tears (of laughter, thankfully) from his face and looks to Lancelot with bitten lips and held in hysterics:

“Arthur just realised that once all the crowning ceremonies happen, Gwaine will be third in line for the throne, if I’m the last one to die and there aren’t any children.”

Lance’s eyes go wide and he clamps a hand over his moth in a poor attempt to hold in his laughter. He fails miserably, bursting just like Gwaine and Merlin had moments earlier. Arthur fixes an annoyed glare on him and waves a desperate hand:

“This is not funny.”

Gwaine just shakes his head as he finally manages to calm himself, wiping his face clean and sitting up straight, one hand still on Merlin’s shoulder:

“It’s hilarious, Princess. God imagine Geoffrey’s face. Imagine the council.”

Arthur just takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling again:

“Fuck. Ok, alright, whatever. That is a problem for another time.-”

He looks back down to Merlin with an apologetic smile, after shooting one last withering glare at a still-smirking Gwaine:

“-You feeling up to council? I’ve missed a fair few, and I think it might be a good idea for you two to start making appearances as well. That and... as much as we’ve told them you have magic, it might be worth showing it off a little.-”

At Merlin’s wide, fearful eyes, Arthur holds his hands out placatingly and hurries to continue:

“-You don’t have to, but they're working on the ban repeal. Obviously not anything huge, but passing jugs or paper or whatever with magic might help desensitise them to the idea. Plus, now that you’re semi-officially royalty, and you have Gwaine or Leon trailing you almost everywhere, no one would dare attack you. And if they do, you have every right to defend yourself in whatever capacity you deem necessary.”

At Merlin’s still nervous face, Lancelot quickly tacks on:

“And they all know that Arthur would go ape-shit if anything were to happen to you.”

Arthur gestures at the knight and nods in agreement, nodding further at Gwaine’s quiet “He’s not the only one.” . Merlin takes a deep breath and shuffles off the bed, standing and straightening his clothes out with unsteady hands:

“Let’s go. You’re right, I’m going to have to get used to stupid council meetings at some point if you’re insisting on crowning me, might as well be now.”

Arthur and Lancelot smile proudly and Gwaine moves to stand at his side, straightening his own clothes before running his hands through Merlin’s hair, flattening and neatening it. Merlin stands still and lets himself be assessed and fixed with a soft smile on his face, and Arthur feels almost as if he were intruding on something personal and domestic, even more so than when they were professing their love for each other; he looks away awkwardly and Lancelot raises an amused eyebrow at him.

The four of them finally exit the room, Arthur and Merlin falling into step besides each other, Gwaine slightly behind them, and Lancelot trailing the three of them with his face pulled into a blank mask and his hand on his sword.

This time, there is no hesitation before they enter the council room, and no raised eyebrows when Merlin takes his rightful place alongside Arthur at the head of the table. Flanked by Morgana, Leon, Lancelot, and Gwaine, Arthur effortlessly takes control of the meeting, hurrying things along with a proud confidence and an easy authority that was slowly but surely being taken on by his brother, at his side.

The council session lasts for the remainder of the day, and though at least half of the councilmen yelp, Gaius obviously not included, when Merlin first starts floating things about or magically highlighting words or moving the room’s lighting around with a flick of his wrist, most of them are used to it by the time the sun touches the horizon.

Arthur finally calls an end to the meeting when it gets dark. Though he was in a slightly manic mood and desperate to get as much work done as possible now that he was actually free to attend meetings, he could see that the others, Merlin especially, were flagging. He knew it would happen eventually, he can’t imagine The Warlock has been sleeping much, and he definitely came to some sort of private, horrifying conclusion around half a candle-mark ago. The hitch in Merlin’s breath, the widening of his eyes, and the slight, tiny flair of every candle in the room thankfully went unnoticed by everyone bar Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot.

When the room empties of councilmen, Merlin stands and paces away from the table, hands fiddling roughly with his sleeves. Arthur waves Morgana and Leon away, thanking them briefly before nodding pointedly at the door. Lancelot follows shortly, and Arthur has half a mind to send Gwaine away as well, but he knows that would be somewhat selfish as the other man approaches his partner’s turned back:

“Merlin? Something wrong? I thought that went remarkably well.”

Merlin’s head turns quickly, his furrowed brows confused:

“What? What went well?”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow, glancing briefly at the neatly stacked paperwork on the table:

“The meeting? About planning your coronation and the legalisation of magic? That we’ve been in all afternoon?”

Merlin untenses slightly, turning around properly and using one hand to rub at his eyes tiredly:

“Oh, yeah right. It did go well. They didn’t freak out too much at my evil sorcery, did they?”

He tries to go for a joking smirk, but it falls flat, and Arthur walks towards him to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder:

“What’s on your mind?”

Merlin sags even more and Arthur quickly steps forward, gathering the suddenly distraught man in a tight hug. Merlin easily accepts, burying his face in Arthur’s neck and clutching the back of his tunic with shaking hands:

“I compared my mother to Uther. I told her it was her fault that I didn’t want to be alive. She’s never going to forgive me.”

Arthur shuts his eyes, stroking a hand through Merlin’s hair and muttering a quiet:

“Oh, Merlin, she loves you more than anything in this world, there’s nothing to forgive.”

Merlin doesn’t look up, but shakes his head roughly; before he can argue, Gwaine steps around the two of them, pressing a kiss to the nape of Merlin’s neck before stepping back and stroking a soft hand over his back:

“What she did was wrong, Merls, you’re allowed to be angry. And now you’re not so angry anymore you can go sit down with her and talk it out, ok? There was no way that first conversation was going to be anything other than difficult and heartbreaking, but you got through it, and now you can sort it out properly.”

Merlin relaxes just a touch, and Arthur gets the disturbing feeling swelling in his gut that Gwaine knew of Merlin’s (hopefully, former) despairs before the whole... twin thing. When The Warlock finally pulls away, he thankfully looks a little more confident, despite the drying tears on his cheeks; Arthur gives him a soft smile and nods towards the door:

“Tonight, or tomorrow?”

Merlin takes a deep, fortifying breath, and walks towards the door purposefully, wiping his face clean before taking Gwaine’s offered hand in his own:

“Tonight, now. I should... I need to talk to Gaius as well. I’ve been unfairly punishing him for long enough, I think.”

Gwaine smiles understandingly, though Arthur, who rushes to catch up and walk on Merlin’s other side, shakes his head with a frown:

“Not unfairly, Merlin. It would be well within your rights to cut them out of your life for the foreseeable future for this. But I also understand wanting to forgive them so you have more... support. They may not be blood, Merlin, but... they are family, and that’s ok.”

Gwaine gives him an annoyed look at his first words, over Merlin’s shoulder, but doesn’t say anything. Merlin stops in the middle of the hallway, suddenly and without warning, and Gwaine grunts slightly when his arm is pulled back. The Warlock spares him an apologetic smile before turning his gaze to Arthur. Arthur raises an eyebrow, but Merlin tilts his head and frowns:

“Arthur you do know that... I consider you family above all others, right? you’re right, family doesn’t have to be blood,-”

He squeezes Gwaine’s hand, almost subconsciously, and receives a gentle squeeze back:

“-but after what we’ve found out, after all of this, all that we’re doing to... fix it, to fix what was done to us... you’re everything, you’re my brother. Me forgiving Hu... my mother, and Gaius, doesn’t change that I trust you above them, I consider you before them. They’re family, but you’re family first.”

Arthur’s eyes widen slightly at Merlin’s stern assertion, but he wills the tears in his eyes to disappear as he nods once, his jaw clenched with emotion. Merlin smirks slightly and rolls his eyes, muttering something about an “emotionally repressed idiot” before pulling him into an eagerly returned hug. Gwaine just snorts at both of them, happily leaning against the wall with crossed arms as he waits. They pull away fairly quickly, hyper aware of the fact that they were in the middle of the corridor, and whilst basically the whole citadel had picked up on the fact that something had changed, is changing, they didn’t want to let on too much until official public announcements were made.

They hurry in their journey to the Physician’s chambers, it was getting late and they wanted to sort this out as soon as possible; Gods know Merlin isn’t going to sleep a wink until he's spoken to his mother again.

They pause momentarily outside the door, taking deep breaths as they attempt to block out the hushed conversations coming from inside, not wanting to eavesdrop. Merlin turns to Gwaine with a nervous frown:

“Would you mind... waiting out here? Just for a minute?”

Gwaine gives him a soft smile and nods, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering “Call for me when you want me to come in, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” before giving Arthur an encouraging clap on the shoulder and stepping back to lean against the opposite wall.

Arthur sends a grateful smile the knight’s way, receiving a respectful nod in return, before he turns to the door. After a nod from Merlin, he raises a hand that shakes only slightly, and knocks. The murmured conversations stop immediately, and Gaius’ voice calls out:

“Enter.”

With one last look to each other, the brothers open the door and walk in together, shutting it gently behind them and turning to face the shocked pair. Hunith stares at Merlin with tears in her hopeful eyes, but Gaius quickly clears his throat and stands straight:

“How can I help, My Lords?”

Arthur sighs and Merlin shakes his head at the Physician’s formal address of them, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes before taking a small step forward :

“Don’t... I’m not... just Merlin, please.-”

His voice is quiet and tired, and the pleading tone it takes on deepens Arthur’s frown. He lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip before looking up to Hunith and continuing:

“-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I didn’t have any right to say those things; you’re... you’re nothing like Uther, and you did your best in a terrifying situation. You didn’t know any better, I shouldn’t blame you for how I turned out.”

Hunith’s tears overflow once again, and she takes in a shuddering breath as she steps hesitatingly towards the Warlock:

“Oh, my boy, you were right. I wasn’t ready to lose you, and I let that fear overcloud my judgement of what I knew to be right. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I should have told you who you were a long time ago, and it wasn’t fair of me to expect Gaius to carry on the lie, especially when you met Arthur, and especially when he found out about your magic.”

With that, Merlin pulls her into a tight hug, height difference be damned as he buries his face in her neck and shakes. Arthur gulps as he looks upon the scene, sharing a small, mournful smile with Gaius, the Physician understanding The Regent’s forgiveness in the small nod of his head. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as Arthur was expecting, though he supposes that forgiveness is more than just saying it aloud, and Merlin still has a great deal of self-worth related issues to get over, thanks to Hunith’s overly cautious raising of the boy. The Warlock clears his throat, his hands still on his mother’s shoulders as he gives her a weak smile:

“Igraine says thank you, by the way, for raising me with so much love.”

Hunith lets out a small chuckle, wiping away Merlin’s tears with soft hands:

“It was my honour, I’m glad that your... mother, is pleased.”

Merlin’s frown is brief, and he responds quickly:

“You’re my mother.”

Hunith’s smile grows, as does Merlin’s and she nods shakily, almost whispering:

“Ok... I... ok.”

Merlin lets go hesitatingly, but turns to Gaius after a moment or two. The Physician quickly interrupts anything the younger man could have said with a shake of his head and a soft smile, pulling him into a hug as he softly speaks:

“It’s alright, my boy. You were well within your rights to be angry, we had no right to lie to you in such a way.”

With Gaius and Merlin’s soft conversation happening to the side of the room, Hunith turns to Arthur with a hopeful smile on her face. He returns it faintly, and she pulls him into his own hug. He stiffens in her hold, wide eyes darting around the room as he clenches his hands at his side. It only takes her stroking a hand through his knotted hair for him to relax and hug her back:

“I’m honoured to have been able to raise your brother, Arthur, and I am sorry for keeping him from you for so long, it was selfish of me. I didn’t consider what you were losing, in not knowing that you weren’t alone, only what I would lose should I tell the truth.”

Arthur gulps and nods, but tightens his hold on her as the tears come to his eyes:

“It’s... ok. I understand, I think. The danger you put yourself in to raise and protect him was immense, I just wished I’d known sooner, so I could have done all of this sooner.”

They pull back, but Hunith keeps a tight hold on Arthur’s shoulders, an assessing frown on her face as she raises a hand to cup his cheek. Arthur leans into it, blushing slightly under her motherly gaze:

“I know. But you’re doing wonderfully, Arthur. You and Merlin will be the saviours of this Kingdom, I’m sure of it. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

A tear slips loose from Arthur’s eye as he harshly bites his lip. His voice comes out small and unsure, and Hunith has to resist the urge to pull him into another hug:

“You think?”

She just smiles and nods instead:

“I’m sure.”

Merlin and Gaius look upon the scene fondly, and Arthur’s blush deepens when he catches them staring. He steps back from Hunith who smirks at him knowingly as he frowns at Merlin:

“Shut up, Merlin.”

He just laughs and shakes his head:

“I always knew you had a soft spot for my mum.”

The Regent shakes his head and rolls his eyes, ignoring Merlin’s continued laughter:

“Either of you eaten? I’m starved.”

Gaius and Hunith’s smiles come a lot easier at that, and they shake their heads. Arthur leads the way out of the chambers, smiling and nodding at Gwaine’s raised eyebrow. The knight returns the smile, quickly sidling up to Merlin and re-taking his hand as Arthur speaks:

“I’ll let the kitchens know to have five meals sent up to my chambers, I’ll see you there in a moment.”

They part ways in the corridor, all of them with easy smiles and lighter hearts, especially when Gwaine eagerly regales his interpretation of Arthur’s reaction to having to crown him.

The next morning was once again tense. Arthur’s assertion late last night that he intended to finally deal with Uther weighs heavy in everyone’s minds.

Hunith and Gaius are once again tucked safely into the Physician’s chambers, and all of the King’s most trusted knights are called to stand guard in the corridor. Merlin and Arthur wear their smart clothes (a suggestion by Morgana that Gwaine thought was funny enough that he begged and begged until Merlin gave in), and they take in with them Leon and Morgana.

Uther looks manic, his hair unkept, his face unshaven. His clothes are clean at least, but they’re rumpled, likely due to the near constant pacing of the former King. The room is dark, the curtains obviously haven’t been opened in several days, but the dim candles highlight the mess throughout the room. Uther may still be being passed meals by the guards, but out of concern for the staff’s safety, no servants were granted access to tidy or otherwise serve.

His head whips around when the door opens, his enraged face turning red at the four people stood smartly by his door. He storms towards them, but Morgana, no longer scared of the consequences, holds a hand out and mutters a few golden words, halting him in his tracks. He apparently hasn’t lost his voice though, as he turns to Merlin:

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?! YOU-”

Merlin rolls his eyes and clicks his fingers, his eyes also turning golden as Uther’s mouth shuts with a clack. Leon manages to hold his smirk in, just stands still as the perfect guard, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Morgana doesn’t even try, smiling openly. Merlin holds Uther’s furious gaze for a few more moments before looking to Arthur at his side, tilting his head in question. The Regent nods at him before stepping forward, his back straight and his face and voice Kingly:

“You will listen, and you will listen well, because I will not repeat myself. You are the only abomination in this room, and you will live with that for the rest of your days. How long that is, is up to you. I am Regent, soon enough I will be King, Myrddin will be Crown Prince, and Morgana will be Princess; when that happens, magic will finally be fully legalised, and the public will be made aware of your crimes. I will not hide things from my people, not like you have. No matter what you deserve, I struggle to bring myself to sentence you to execution, and you’ll be humiliated to learn, I imagine, that Merlin argued in favour of letting you keep your head when I brought it up.-”

Uther glances angrily at Merlin, but looks back to Arthur when he realises that he’s still incapable of speaking:

“-Therefor your options are as follows: You may go to the summer home on the coast, where you will be under constant guard, but will otherwise have a semi-free life. You will stay in Camelot, but live out the remainder of your days in this room only. Or me and Merlin will take a week long trip away to, say, Nemeth, whilst Princess Morgana and Sir Leon announce, organise, and undergo your execution. You have today to decide, we’ll be back this evening.”

Arthur doesn’t bother waiting for a reaction, turning his back on Uther and gesturing the others to lead the way through the door. He pauses momentarily, one hand on the door frame as he turns back, a mournful frown on his face as he quietly speaks:

“If you had just told the truth, if you had just owned up to making a mistake, you, me, Myrddin, Morgana, we... we could have been a family. You’re the one that ruined that, you’re the one that tore us apart, and I swear to you now, that whatever option you pick, I will never forgive you.”

That only seems to enrage Uther more, but Arthur isn’t quite sure why he bothered to hope for another reaction. He shuts the door behind him, waving at Merlin to reset the magical locks as he sighs and rubs tired hands over his face:

“Well at least that’s over and done with.”

Leon pats him on the shoulder consolingly, and Elyan raises an eyebrow, glancing around at the others and sighing when he realises no one else is going to ask:

“He didn’t take it well then, I’m guessing?”

Arthur takes a deep breath and stands straight, shaking his head. Morgana is the one to answer however, and Arthur appreciates the way she makes a genuine attempt to keep the humour out of her voice:

“No, he wasn’t best pleased, but I think he’s accepted that he has well and truly lost this battle. Something he’s not entirely used to, I suppose.”

The knights nod in understanding, and Merlin lets out a deep breath, tilting his head slightly:

“Weird to think that he’s my... dad... ugh.”

They all chuckle at that, even Arthur, though they all stop with concerned frowns when Merlin suddenly straightens up with wide eyes and an open mouth:

“Oh... my God... how did I...- What?!”

Arthur puts a hand on his shoulder, his frown deepening:

“Merls?”

The Warlock just ignores him, turning to Morgana with still wide eyes:

“You’re my sister! I’ve been focusing so much on how Arthur’s my brother that I didn’t even consider the fact that you’re my sister!”

Morgana takes in a sudden breath, and all bar Leon (who just raises an eyebrow and then rolls his eyes when he realises that he’s the only one unsurprised by this) stare at the two of them in shock. Morgana slowly pulls Merlin into a hug, and the two of them clutch each other tightly as a grin grows on Arthur’s face. Leon gives him another clap on the back, this one more congratulatory (if a little confused. Honestly, how did they miss that?), and the others cheer just as Gwen turns the corner into the corridor. She smiles confusedly at Merlin and Morgana, still hugging, as she sidles up to Leon, whispering:

“What’s the occasion? They find Uther dead?”

Leon laughs but shakes his head, leaning down to mutter his response:

“They only just now figured out that they’re siblings.”

She looks up to him quickly with a disbelieving raise of the eyebrows:

“Wait, just now as in, just now?-”

Leon smirks and nods firmly, and Gwen shakes her head as she laughs:

“-It’s been almost a week.”

Leon laughs as well leaning against the wall as the others chatter excitedly among themselves:

“Yeah, apparently you and I are the only ones who had considered the idea. These are all the smartest people I’ve ever come across...”

He trails off, but Gwen looks up at him with a teasing smirk:

“And yet sometimes...?”

They both laugh quietly, shaking their heads when Percival catches their eyes and tilts his head in question.

The group walks away soon enough, heading to one of the smaller dining rooms for an early lunch and a chance to discuss their intentions for this afternoon’s council meeting. Morgana, Merlin, and Arthur walk together, and conversation flows between all bar Gwaine, who stares at the back of his now betrothed’s head with the quiet adoration and lowly simmering excitement of someone that knew the man he loves is finally getting all that he deserves.

END of Part 3!!!

Part 4 will be VERY short. Will be just about post coronation and public announcement, will probably contain Merwaine’s wedding, some casual magic, some more family bonding.

I hope y’all enjoyed this!!! I wrote it surprisingly quickly once I set my mind to it

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

Note

I’ve read most everything on your yandere Genshin chars but just got to Kaeya n the punishments and was pleasantly surprised by the back-door entry punishment and feel now safe to ask...

Are there other chars that would resort to this or maybe even be inclined towards anal? XD weirdly one of my biggest interests tbh besides breeding I don’t knooow whyy.

Oh same anon. It’s up there in my top kinks and I don’t talk bout anal enough it’s such a good kink, so I’m about to change that and give it appreciation, obvious tw for anal here

It's obviously a big thing for sadists of any kind. So basically, aside from Kaeya, Childe and Scara are both likely to get into it to some extent. Childe slightly less so than Kaeya, but both of them will use it as a form of punishment -- Childe is just slightly more prone to spanking than anal because it ignites our boy's weird fetish for violence a bit better. Whereas Kaeya's more of a horny bastard so punishments that have his dick in you in some way or another are the best.

Notably, Childe's more into actually warning you and making you squirm, listening to you beg and whimper and see you all scared, so he draws out the process before actually shoving his dick in. He's just mean about it, but he's big on verbal mockery to begin with -- tells you things like "don't worry, it only hurts a lot :)" or "it's ok, feel free to cry :)". Bastard. Also likes to hold you in positions so you can try to pull yourself off, that way he can just grab you and pull you back on.

Kaeya's more into it in a surprise sort of way, will just kinda get lube or cum all over your holes so you don't specifically know and kinda shove it in to your surprise. It's cute, your eyes go wide open and you squeal and scream and kick your feet and try to pull yourself off. He kinda forces you into positions where you can't move though, you have no choice but to just take it -- mating press, flat on your stomach, bent over and pressed against something so you can't move forward. He doesn’t mock you beforehand since he likes to catch you off guard, but laughs at your initial squealing and struggling and mocks you throughout, as well as after, thinks it’s cute how you can’t stand and how you hiss and whimper every time you sit down or move around.

Scara's similar but unfortunately for darling he'll also just fuck your poor ass at random too just because he feels like it because he likes watching you cry, or maybe is just mad and needs something to take it out on, which almost always ends up being you. He's definitely the roughest and the most likely candidate to pull the "yeah spit is perfectly acceptable lube" bullshit so it hurts the most. Also degrading about it.

Other notable candidates to actually do anal or get into it in some way, perhaps some surprisingly, would be Chongyun, Xiao, Razor, and Zhongli. The first three have a commonality where it's most likely an accident at first, fucking you too hard and accidentally slip out, try to shove their dick back in, and end up watching you squeal and pull back when their cock slips into the wrong hole.

Chongyun's is most likely during a manic episode, and only occurs during those episodes -- he's just fucking so hard and fast it ends up happening more than once. He apologizes afterwards, feels bad about it, but it keeps happening. Honestly it's something he genuinely likes, but his normal self doesn't want to hurt you, but the manic self is basically his "true" self without any inhibitions, so he doesn't hold back. He couldn’t really tell you why he likes it, it’s just hot.

Razor and Xiao are similar, it just is so so so tight and feels so good on their dick and once they've accidentally discovered it you'll wish they hadn't. Razor doesn't get the difference, will just kinda be like "oh, sorry" but keep fucking you. He just knows that it feels nice, but doesn't really have a preference, boy just needs his dick in a tight wet warm hole, and if it's in one or the other he's not gonna bother to take it out, just keeps fucking you. You’ll get used to it. Probably.

Xiao might do it intentionally, it just feels so nice you know? It wouldn't click in his mind at first to use it for punishment purposes, but eventually seeing you squirm and cry he puts two and two together and it clicks and he realizes it's a good way to punish. But he doesn't draw it out or threaten you, just kinda shoves it in if he's mad.

The most unfortunate part to both these boys is they don't get the difference so they fuck just as hard and fast and don't quite understand the concept of preparation and lube. They'll find some form of lube because they don't want to tear you (because then they couldn't keep fucking you you know?), but see no need to stretch you out beforehand.

And Zhongli might come as a bit of a surprise, but it's entirely punishment based and he's slower and gentle about it, but I mean, his dick is huge so no matter how prepared you are it's still gonna hurt like a bitch and be a very effective form of punishment. He has a unique form of how to handle offenses -- most come up with whatever they feel like on the spot, but he lays out early on a system of sorts, a mental chart of how different offenses are punished, scales of severity, basically "this offense is punished this way each time", very specific, right down to the number of spanks and the like. So you can't get out of it, because, well, you knew exactly what would happen, but you chose to do what you did anyway, so you should have been prepared for the consequences. Also, he gets really into plugs, especially ones with tails attached, probably has you wear one most of the time.

And finally Albedo gets super into it tbh and is the most likely candidate for lots of things. He's our gross boi. He's quiet about it, like the majority of his gross and sadistic tendencies, and this often, similar to Kaeya, results in you being very caught off guard and by surprise. Will literally just switch holes mid-fucking. If he *does* warn you, he's big fan of making you suck his dick and fingers to use it as lube beforehand. He does, thankfully, get a lot of it though, spits on your hole, likely uses actual lube a lot of the time, he likes the squelching and fluids. On the downside, since he's into all things gross or weird or less common, he gets into testing your poor ass's limits, seeing what the biggest size plug you can handle is, stretching you out, see how long you can hold things in. Also most likely candidate to get into weird things and shoving various objects in you - slimes, toys, inanimate objects etc. Also most likely candidate for painful things like figging or finding a way to make lube super cold, hot, tingly etc. And, finally, most likely candidate to completely cut you off from PIV for an extended period of time - instead of a one-time punishment, darling is looking at several days, even weeks of only anal. It's cute how you try to run away and all. And will definitely try to figure out a way to make you cum from it, too.

#lena's asks

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dantelionwishes · 4 years ago

Photo

life is full of ups and downs downs downs downs dow

loredump under the cut. not kidding when I say its gonna be long!

oh shit you actually clicked keep reading thank you for your interest 😭😭😭

YOU KNOW THE DRILL tw // suggestive dont read ahead if youre uncomfortable with the topic of aphrodisiacs!

MIDDLE SCHOOL

before anything, I gotta explain he was born to parents who had an infatuation quirk (makes them hardcore fall in love with you) and an infection quirk (transmits a virus via saliva)

developed his quirk late, since they usually get it by the time kids are four

most people knew him as quirkless before the first incident

in middle school, his class was preparing for a school play, he and his classmate got cast as the main lead prince and princess

coincidentally, they both had a crush on each other and had a scene where they kissed

technically they weren’t supposed to, since its just a play, but one time they were practicing in private and wanted to try kissing “for real”

so they shared a super giggly cute middle school first kiss but well UNFORTUNATELY FOR HIM HIS QUIRK HAD WELL DEVELOPED–

BADABING BADABOOM YOU HAVE AN IMAGINATION USE IT

the only way for the quirk’s effects to go away is to come at least once or pleasuring yourself until it goes away

I DO NOT WANT TO IMAGINE IT BUT. IMAGINE BEING A TEACHER AND FINDING A MIDDLE SCHOOLER WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HER AND AN ADULT IS FORCED TO TELL HER HOW TO MAKE IT GO AWAY LLLLIKE–

rip now that I’m thinking abt it, I don’t even think anybody would even kNOW HOW TO MAKE IT GO AWAY so lets imagine she painfully stays that way until they figure out how to make it stop :^(

there’s a big fight that happens between the teachers, principal, and parents of both parties

of course the crush’s parents got mad and called their kid a fuckin uhhhhh sexual predator or some shit despite also beING THE SAME AGE AND NOT EVEN KNOWING ABT HIS OWN QUIRK LIKE HELLLO

obviously an incident like this is going to spread like wildfire but the principal does not want something like this to leak, especially since it was not on purpose and was a total accident

the other kid’s parents and some teachers did not feel comfortable however, and sato was forced to drop out

but not wanting to spread the gossip about their son’s quirk and the incident, they leave the town and move someplace else

thankfully, the principal gives the sato family his good grades and a recommendation to a decent highschool for the trouble

they’re originally from osaka, but moved to tokyo

this is where they start taking precautions with sato, basically teaching him to be careful with his saliva

it was easily taught and learned esp since the mom was already like that around him and others everyday anyway!! she has to take care of her saliva-based infection quirk, after all

HIGH SCHOOL

he got enrolled into a regular highschool in tokyo

no hero course, no support course, no business, just a regular ol’ school

if before, he loved surrounding himself with people, this was where he was forced to develop a lonely disposition to protect himself and others

at least his parents were very protective and supportive of him and they were generally a happy family!

but in school, pretending to be quirkless was just as difficult, getting bullied or pitied for having no special abilities

his excuse for wearing a mask all the time was because his mother had a virus-related quirk, and had to be careful

one day his dad was suddenly got really, really sick

the more he had an excuse to wear a mask because he didnt want to get whatever disease his father started to develop

sato started thinking it could be his mother (but why?) the results didn’t say anything about an unknown virus killing him (which is his mom’s quirk), and that his father really did contract a strong yet very normal disease

while on his second year in highschool, his father, yozo sato, died

apparently, without him knowing anything about his parents, his mother, oba sato, was actually under the dad’s infatuation quirk this whole time

she realised she wasn’t really in love with him when oba had accidentally allowed a drop of her saliva to fall into the meal she was making him, making him sick, and therefore making him weak enough to deactivate his quirk on her

oba, back in her college years, wanted to marry someone else but yozo, who had a crush on her wanted her to himself, used his quirk to make him fall in love with her

so in revenge for making her put up with him all these years to the point of marriage and having a kid, she continued to do this to his food

her quirk doesn’t make anybody sick enough to die, but it made her husband’s immune system weak enough to the point that it contracted a real, serious disease which he ended up dying from instead

sato only finds out the real story when he graduates from highschool, days right after his graduation the mom confesses it all

she does say she truly loves him, but can’t stay around him knowing he was technically “unconsensual love”

sato gets reminded of what his quirk does, and true enough, that’s what him and his quirk turned out to be (a sick combination of his mom and his dad)

they cant bear to be around each other after that revelation and decide to just not see each other again

COLLEGE YEARS

he enrolls into an education course, inspired by the kind principal who helped him finish his middleschool-highschool education when it all started going downhill

sato struggles paying for his college fees esp since he doesn’t exactly have his parents supporting him anymore, nor any contact with immediate family

he has a lot of part time jobs that go all around the clock, he continues pretending to be quirkless so he gets bullied, and has to deal with all that emotional baggage plus being alone so…….clearly my man is TIRED as hell

his side job hustles include: convenience store cashier, bookstore attendant, bar bouncer, and rookie gym trainer (he went to the local gym long enough for him to get recommended a job as a trainer)

college was that point where he starts developing a hardcore yearning for a companion because oh my god hes so lonELY (but cant)

ANYWAY SO

there’s this bully guy who always picks on him in college (for being “quirkless” and a loner and overall a fuckin weirdo with a mask)

tbh sato doesnt really give a shit he’s so used to it but he doesnt have his mother as an excuse to wear the mask anymore, this is where he starts forming the “I have bad breath” excuse

“口臭い” (kuchi kusai) translates to “bad breath” or “stinky mouth” so sato unlovingly gets nicknamed “kusato”

one day he’s walking around the campus at night and finds the bully with his gang cornering another quirkless student, with plans of assaulting her

sato was never the hero type, and was about to ignore the commotion as to not get involved, but something in him moved on its own and he found himself face to face with the gang

he confronts them, but the bully mocks both him and the girl for not having powers to stop them anyway

SIKE BITCH sato’s able to easily strike the other two guys, knock them off their feet enough to be able to tug the to-be victim aside, telling her to report them, before asking her to run away as fast as she can

none of the guys want that (they’re all students) so they have a full on brawl (and this isnt hero academy, its a totally normal university so I wouldn’t assume these guys had very impressive quirks)

except the main bully actually has a pretty decent quirk (he’s like a kinda half human half dragon with sharp claws, scales, and dragon eyes) and gets to injure sato with his sharp claws, seriously injuring his face

a part of his ear is also sort of sliced off, which is how his mask gets accidentally removed in the process

the dragon bully grabs him by the collar and starts angrily shouting at him for ruining his night, being able to do all this shit without a quirk and all and all other derogatory speech

“Well? what do you have to say for yourself?!“

Sato stays silent before spitting right into the bully’s mouth

The bully drops him immediately, about to angrily fuck him up for doing something super fucking gross but WHOOP WHOOP YOU KNOW WHATS BOUTTA HAPPEN the quirk works immediately and the bully is a TOTAL MESS on the ground

Im going to TLDR this part cos its…obviously nsfw but like: sato fully embarrasses him in public (beside the bully’s two colleges nonetheless)

sato stays in the hospital for some time to heal from his wounds

fortunately, afterwards, the bullies all get expelled

unfortunately for sato, he also gets expelled for engaging in bad behaviour, and the bully did say what happened to him (and the college principal did not want his…dangerous quirk on campus) so as to lower any incident, all four were expelled

at least without having to pay for college fees anymore, he could fully focus on paying for food, shelter, and clothes

minus of course the hospital bills needed to pay plus he got a sick ass scar from it anyway HAHAHAHA BSDJHJRHDHF

ADULT LIFE

he had a lot of jobs here and there, but was more or less doing best as a trainer at a local gym where people weren’t allowed to use their quirks and strengthen their body regularly

a few years went by and he eventually shrugged off everything that happened in his final college years but one day someone familiar walked into the gym! It was the fellow college student he saved!!!

she became a policewoman who wanted to get stronger in this quirkless friendly gym and hadn’t given up on her dreams of being a “hero,” inspired by how sato saved her that day

sato never really saw himself as some hero, he was left many nights alone thinking about how easily he could become a villain with his quirk, so hearing that really made him happy

he trains her as her gym coach and she eventually asks him to join her patrol this small part of the city from a gang that was currently going around doing crimes since he’s good at it anyway, saying she could use some extra hands hehe

so yeah!! he does this side gig with her where he patrols alongside her looking for gang crimes and such c:

AND ONE DAY. [WISTFUL SIGH] ONE DAY. HE FINDS SOMEBODY GETTING MUGGED BY A GANG MEMBER AND SAVES………A CERTAIN MAN–

thank you for reading all the way here!!!

feel free to ask for questions or for any clarifications 😭😭😭!!!!!!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha oc comeback #mha #bnha oc #mha oc #lionhe(art)#I know I havent exactly written stuff from meeting toshinori onwards #but thats for another day!!#I only ever wrote Sato's backstory pre meeting all might #yet all I drew as a teen was them as a couple lMAOOO #idk if anyone would wanna read that but honestly iM SURE THE STUDENTS WANT THAT SPICY RELATIONSHIP INFO JHSDJGHAJHJK #my 17-year old self would have been happy in my place ;;3;; !!!!!#i finally got to share his lore!! that was a lot so if you seriously read it all thank you so much aaaaaaaaaaaa #Osamu sato-sensei

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girlbossminerva · 3 years ago

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TW: Cursing, Slandering Blue Pegasus

Blue Pegasus. What's your reason for even existing? Like I don't mind. Well yes I do, sorry for advance but your Guild contains f*ckboys, who can't get women for shit, and women who are just plot devices and it wasn't good enough for you.

Jenny's machina soul, would be cool if her curves weren't the main attraction, hasn't she ever heard of being, "Pretty and Powerful." Pre-Minerva could give her a tip or two. I feel bad for her like imagine being put in a fight that you planned and then get your ass beat, damn💀 (Jenny's emoji)

Ichiya, stay dead. I wouldn't mind if you were just some comedic character who was plainly stronger than most, I wouldn't have mind but like shut the hell up about Erza being your, "sweetie." Kill me. Erza wants nothing to do with you, ong, you should have stayed in that rift you b—

The trio, hate you bitches. You have no real meaning, Ren is a blackfisher, Hibiki is irrelevant, and Eve is useless, wishing he can be Gray.

I just needed to blow steam, this guild has no real meaning only to feed Mashima's fanservice but even without it there still would be fanservice, huh.

Do all the guilds have meaning or all they to have the Fairy Tail effect, y'know goofy people but it makes no sense considering the characters personality as a whole.

I think I'm done for now, Sabertooth or Lamia Scale might be next... hope this didn't disturb you.

Kind of adorable that you thought I would find any of this valid criticism disturbing. Honestly, I wouldn't even consider it slander cause you're right.

Like ok, you wanna have a guild that's basically just a host club? alright i don't honestly care, this series has made worse decisions, but at least give them something that will make me like them?? Actually from the trimen I think Hibiki is the one that has a bit more going for him? At least from how we saw him helping lucy and the gang in the nirvana arc, I felt he had slightly more personality to stand out from the rest but that still isn't enough to be a full-on character.

Eve is just a twink and Ren has no personality or relevance outside of his relationship with Sherry, which no one cares about and has no importance on any plot so yeah useless, and his "tan"....was a terrible design choice but considering Mashima's obvious racism it isn't surprising.

Jenny is a character I rarely think about because unfortunately she's just one of many female characters that fit into very particular stereotypes which are the only thing mashima knows how to do in fairy tail. I DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER HER MAGIC AND HAD TO GOOGLE IT. It sounds cool and could've been such a great battle with Mira but noooo we gotta have a fanservice fight that no one asked for.

And Ichiya.....oh how I hate and become disgusted by Ichiya. He's like the "perverted old man" anime character except that I think he harrases Erza in less explicitly sexual ways yet he manages to disturb me even more and I feel people tend to forget that this motherfucker is thirty or close to turning thirty since his first appearance and Erza is only FUCKING 19 AND IT IS IMPLIED THAT HE HAS BEEN HARASSING HER FOR A WHILE NOW???? Society never had a need for him to exist and I wish he had died in the Alvarez war.

Also you didn't mention it but every time I look at master Bob I feel his design and how he's portrayed counts as a hate crime, of course flamboyant and gnc characters aren't necessarily always mocking of queer people but in this case I'm certain mashima just added him to be like "haha 'ugly' man in a dress speaking with an effeminate voice, so funny" and it sucks cause aside from that Bob isn't a terrible person and is actually as rounded in terms of personality as an incidental side character can be.

Please return to my inbox with more guild/character criticism, I particularly want to hear the sabertooth one because although I do love them they don't that much of a chance to shine neither the guildmembers not their collectivity itself and it's a real detriment.

#straight outta the mailbox #also for future reference there's no need to trigger warn swearing on my blog everyone knows i love dropping f bombs #unless it's something you're most comfortable with ofc #blue pegasus #fairy tail salt #fairy tail meta #monet visits

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yanderart · 5 years ago

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He caught you when no one else did; defeated you when no one else could. Whether you liked to admit it or not, Eraserhead had clearly proven his worth.

So why didn't you prove yours, little villain?

Another portrait for my POV yandere series, this time of Aizawa. Got a few people requesting me to draw/write for him so hopefully y'all enjoy it 🖤

Below the cut, as customary for the series, is a longshot one-shot that delves further into the backstory (Aizawa x Villain Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: dub-con, graphic smut, Bad Bondage Etiquette, degradation/humiliation, brat (villain) taming, cumplay and slight bimbofication. Scumbag Aizawa is real.

— — —

The day you met Eraserhead, looking back, saying your worries had been misplaced would be an understatement. With not being apprehended and losing street cred at the very top of your list, it was decidedly easy to skip over any of the other big red-lettered warnings.

You first felt the tickle in your nape while you carried your acquisitions across downtown Musutafu, accompanied by the familiar presage of someone watching your every movement. The city around you was bustling, as was the norm, as loud and meandering in its complaints as a chronically diseased elder, yet the alleys you took as shortcuts grew quieter and quieter with each step.

It was eerie, alarming, and a platitude of other adjectives you shamefully chose to neglect.

“So this is the great V/N in the flesh,” the lazy cadence of someone calling out your alias froze you mid-step, the way his owner dragged each syllable telling you he hadn’t yet decided whether you were worth wasting his breath on.

Your body was responding before you even had a chance to properly process the threat, running on instinct and muscle memory as you twirled to face the mysterious man and prepared to...

“Cute dress, kid.” Eraserhead in the flesh stood barely a few feet away, glowing scarlet orbs illuminating his preternaturally blank expression and transforming it instead into a visage of pure intimidation. “Didn’t pitch you for the frilly type.”

The growing panic in your chest put a hitch in your breath as you stared back. Yet you couldn’t help but still try, fruitlessly hoping—hands clenched, nails puncturing your own flesh as you tried to force your dormant quirk awake. And all for naught, considering your efforts were only repaid by the hatchet of your sinking realization being buried even deeper.

Although, the Pro-Hero also appeared to notice your meager attempts, taking a few steps closer to your form with a condescending gleam in his otherwise somber features.

Before you were conscious of what you were looking at (and before you had half a mind to attempt a quirkless attack on the hero), you observed the weapon wrapped around his neck unfolding fluidly, the extensions of fabric reaching out to envelop you in a forceful embrace that left your arms tucked to your sides and your back uncomfortably straightened.

“Better to trap you before you get any wild ideas. It’s your fault you’re in this position in the first place anyways,” he was taunting you, prodding you and poking you as you found yourself completely at his mercy, uselessly struggling much in the same way many of your victims had surely felt in their last few moments at your hands.

"Eraserhead," his pseudonym resembled an insult on your tongue, your rage and resentment making for rather colorful enhancements. "Don’t you have anything better to do than trapping helpless girls with this weapon of yours? Didn't peg you for a pervert."

Usually, you managed to reign in some of your nastier attitudes, channeling them into your quirk and the violence you could inflict with it…

But tied up and under the influence of his own ability as you were? All you had was pettiness.

"You can dress up as a civ all you want. Won't be fooling me." He took several steps, closing the distance between you two with barely the hint of a smile morphing his stern expression.

You could see the faint stubble on his handsome face from this up close, blood-shot eyes that refused to blink as they studied you in ample detail. Could even see the scar carved onto one of his cheekbones, a textured promise of the fight he had survived and now wore as a medal.

Such was your luck, that the Pro to finally catch up with you had to be this rugged scumbag.

"I'm not even engaging in any criminal activities, Eraseridiot." Your insult was terrible, but you were never much of a verbal sparrer. Not when you could use your fists instead. "What are you gonna send me to the pigs for? I know my rights."

And you did. So when the condescension on the lazy hero's face turned into a full-on expression of mockery as he approached your "bag of acquisitions," you audibly gulped. Goddamn stalker couldn't have been following you for that long? Could he?

If only you knew.

"Then," he held up the bag with an indolent brand of interest, the contents dangling tauntingly from his clutch. "How do you explain this over here? I reckon even dirt like you knows what stealing qualifies as." His other hand dived for the contents and before you could voice any protest, cheeks blushing furiously, a slow hint of a chuckle was bobbing his adam's apple. "It would be a fun thing to peg you down for, though."

That damned weapon of his didn't give out an inch as you started to furiously struggle, becoming instead impossibly tighter with each futile attempt at freeing yourself.

"You fucking psycho, is this your sick way of trying to pick me up or something?"

But your quip did not deter him at all (if anything, it spurred him on). The hand inside the bag tensed for a moment before he was retrieving the sole object inside. To say mortification was written all over your face would be an understatement.

A dark pantyhose now hung from Eraserhead's nimble fingers, not a second being wasted by the Hero before he proceeded to bring it up to his face, carelessly stretching the garment until you could see every single one of his features through the sheer material. The way the moonlight caught in it, bouncing off and bathing his patronizing face, made for uncomfortably intimate imagery.

(Yet a part of you, one you would never admit existed if further questioned, also could not help but notice the striking attractiveness of it all, making you want to squirm for completely different reasons while the man continued to exert his quirk on you through the fabric of your fucking lingerie.)

"Gotta say, didn't take you for a pantyhose kind of gal either. Girls like you…" He uttered the last part more like an afterthought, tossing the bag aside before his hands continued toying with the tights absentmindedly. "Are suited for something like fishnets much more."

By that point, you were sure he was just playing with you. You were such a harmless joke, restrained and showcased like a prize for his viewing pleasure.

"Reckon you must own quite a few pairs, uh?" He continued egging you on when you failed to give a timely enough answer.

(Perhaps the fact that he so easily guessed that detail should’ve been your first real warning, too.)

Yet you couldn’t help how his condescension and the downright dirty way he stared at you sent dark shivers up your spine, the threat he represented turning strangely alluring under the dim street lights illuminating you both.

As a villain, you had robbed, murdered, set people ablaze, and even stolen a popsicle or two from some crying kids. So why were Eraserhead's words having such an effect on you? Why did, a part of you deep down, seemed enthused by the awful way in which he was speaking to you?

"You don't have any proof I stole them. I just threw away the receipt after I bought them. Very environmentally unconscious of them, too, when electrical ones are a thing."

Now you were just rambling. What an adorable sight.

"Hmm, never thought I'd hear "environmentally unconscious" being uttered by a two-bit criminal." He stopped stretching the lingerie for a moment, thoughtfully scratching at his incipient stubble with his free hand instead, "Are you really trying to sell me the good samaritan angle?"

To his credit too, he seemed genuinely puzzled by your approach for an instant. Guess even an experienced pro like him still had room to be shocked.

"I'm not trying to sell you anything, imbecile." The snobbishly controlled tone of yours was back, the shaking of panic subsiding while you held onto your only hope of leaving this confrontation unscathed. "And my rights clearly state you need proof to apprehend me. Need causality to exert your quirk on me, too, or you would be the one breaking the law."

Now, Eraserhead wasn’t annoyed per se. You could tell from what little he had already spoken (and from the myriad of cautionary tales you had been told) that little could rattle the man at all, but your comment definitely appeared to intrigue him. It made you feel like an animal being studied, pinned down, and ready to be dissected for his own morbid curiosity.

"Isn't this just rich?" His tone was almost lethargic, words dragging on with a faint rumble. "Are you going to run off to the police, then? Tell them how a Pro trapped you and tried turning you in for a very obvious act of theft?", his eyebrows were raised, eyes more awake despite his monotone voice carrying on. "Be my guest then."

Because of course you were all bark, no bite and he was more than willing to call you out on your shit. So instead of continuing down that route, you decided to veer for a new approach, switching from your assortment of insolent tactics.

"Do you get off on this, then?" Your voice morphing into meekness while you adopted an expression of distress, bottom lip jutting out with the sparkle of thinly veiled sarcasm glimmering in your eyes. "Do you like thinking of yourself as the Big Bad Hero, maybe?" And you could tell by the way the incipient smile froze on his lips that your question had caught him off guard. Made you wanna press even harder, "Do you like the idea of taking a defenseless little girl into an alley and showing her just how bad you can be? Maybe planned on teaching me a lesson, is that it?"

His frown mimicked yours now, no longer any hints of cruel enjoyment on his part. His eyes still glowed red, but he was now squinting ever so slightly, zeroing in on you not only due to the limits of his quirk but also due to the words rapidly continuing to escape your impudent mouth.

"Does Eraserhead like to fuck his lays into being law-abiding citizens? Is the power over someone else what really gets you off, perhaps?"

It was like a spell was cast on the both of you. He couldn't drift his attention, his eyes couldn't stop scanning your face — quickly flickering from the hatred coloring your gaze to the slight quiver of frustration shaking your lips. The hand which he still used to grab your stockings was now a closed fist, knuckles growing pale from the poorly contained strength.

"Bet you plotted this entire thing, you creep. Wanted to take me behind an alley and show me my place." Your taunts were becoming increasingly more risqué, the anger blurring your sense of preservation—and the hint of something else too, a secret excitement you were unwilling to recognize. "Wanted to have me all submissive and obedient under you, surely. Show me what a scary hero cock can do, is that it?"

But instead of earning another entertaining grimace, you had a first-row seat to the rapidly darkening expression on his face. Eyes squinted at the same time that the bandages settled even tighter around you, cutting off your breath for a moment before relenting just enough not to suffocate you.

And that's when you first felt it for the first time, just when your jests died on your lips and you drank on his foreboding reaction. The grip of Eraserhead's quirk, more constricting than any ropes, wavering faintly around the prison he had constructed around you; the distinct buzzing in your hands returning for a mere instant before flickering out again.

Now that was interesting.

"Should watch what you're saying," the pro-hero sounded gruff, voice tinted by a new kind of intensity.

Like a shark smelling the smallest whiff of blood, you couldn’t help your instincts urging you to dial down.

"Always knew you hero types had a hard-on for the power trips. Bet you were using all of this as a decoy. Is this when you strip me and hold me down? When you plow me into the floor of this alley and tell me to "behave or else"?"

You knew your jabs were going too far, getting too brazen… yet as much as you enjoyed making the Pro visibly uncomfortable, once he decided to close the distance between you two there was little you could do to stop yourself from flinching. A fire inhabited his expression, the vivid brightness emanating from his stare not only intimidating, but downright frightening too.

"Are you trying to rile me up?" His hand gripped your face with force, bandages shifting until they were enveloping your neck, holding you up and forcing you to reciprocate his glare, "What do you think will you achieve by antagonizing me even more, V/N?"

You just looked at him through your eyelashes, still somehow managing to play up the innocent act through the layers of fear settling in. And as expected, it only served to further his irritation, calloused fingers digging even deeper into your cheeks and coaxing the claws of terror to continue trailing their nails all around you.

"I’m just trying to understand you, Eraserhead." The way you smiled at him was defiance personified despite it all, your tongue wetting your lips while you caught his eyes following the movement. There was the slightest give of his quirk again, a fluctuation in his concentration informing you that you were finally on the right track. "And I think, given the fact that I haven’t been cuffed yet, that we can both still come to a mutual agreement."

Fingers twitched around your jawline, muffling your words while your sides were squished together harshly. But even manhandling you, the Hero couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes, an interest you foolishly believed to be ignited by your former comments.

"So you are indeed trying to rile me up then." It was an assertion, not a hint of doubt in his leisure intonation.

Instead of replying this time, you just slowly blinked his way, observing your imitation of meekness reflected in a gaze that refused to abandon yours. It had been so long since you last tried to play coy, so long since you needed to depend on anything besides your own strength and ruthlessness. You couldn’t help the thrill you got from playing the role.

"Think you’ll get me distracted enough to break away, I bet." He was whispering directly against your skin after getting dangerously closer, the heat from his cushioned lips provoking an involuntary shiver. "Do you believe nobody else tried this approach before, little villain?"

You gulped, feeling caught before you even had time to properly set the stage.

"I wasn’t..."

"Weren’t what, trying to seduce me?" There was a sense of levity hidden somewhere under his timbre, stored between words that kept dragging on in a mantle of aloofness. "Or did you not mean any of your words?"

When you didn’t reply, you could feel the cruel smile resurfacing against your earlobe.

"If I lift your dress right now, do you think I’ll have my answer?" His question sounded almost casual, as weightless as your alias had been when he first called you out.

Your heartbeat sang in your chest, an anxious hummingbird trapped inside your ribcage. Because you knew the answer, you both did.

When the hand still clutching your bunched hosiery came up to press the fabric against your thighs, you could not help the gasp that escaped you.

"I bet all those things you were just saying…" His tone drifted off as the stockings were slowly guided up the vastness of your legs, fingers barely grazing you through the thin layer of the stolen undergarments. He was thoroughly teasing you, enjoying the manner in which your expression contorted in response. "You just want me to do them to you, don’t you?"

Even if you would’ve wanted to object, the pressure of his nylon-covered digits finally reaching your dampened panties was enough to kill any possible refusal. He traced the outline of your slit, soft touches running across it with deceitful lightness, and your mind became positively staggered as you were rendered overwhelmed by his actions.

You didn’t have to worry about his next move for long, either, because barely a moment’s notice passed before his entire palm was eagerly covering your crotch. And the new way in which he groped you was demanding, the heel of his wrist putting just enough pressure to drag a shamefully loud mewl from you.

The douchebag even had the gall to laugh at your reaction, the sound of his mirth prompting you to writhe even harder as he continued to feel you up through your rapidly soaking underwear.

"Knew you’d be a slutty one." His breath was hoarse against the side of your face, the stubble on his jaw scratching against your skin in a way which made you wonder how it would feel pressing elsewhere. "So fucking wet, it must hurt being this eager."

He didn’t specify what exact kind of pain he meant, whether your growing need for release or the insufferable blow all of this represented to your pride. Somehow, though, you had an inkling that he was referencing both.

"Wanna show me just how needy you are?" His words echoed with each laboured breath of his, one of the few signs you had that he was clearly very much into the whole affair despite his detached demeanor. "Maybe you could show me more of your adorable little cries."

As Eraserhead rutted his palm against you another time, you found your hips lowering down to chase the feeling much to your own chagrin, more moans making their way out of your panting mouth while he coaxed you to sing the notes of his preferred melody.

It was true that you hated his guts… but another fact was that you hadn’t had action in a long while either. Even with the threat of imprisonment hanging over you, you could not deny how desirable the idea to get to cum against that veiny hand of him was, to grip those muscular shoulders as you reached the perdition he was so tantalizingly offering.

Decidedly forgotten was your plan of you being the one distracting him. For fuck’s sake, you really were a needy whore.

"Why not show me how you cum for me in this alley, if you’re really that desperate?" His words kept getting cruder, his tongue tracing a languid stripe from your earlobe down to the side of your neck, a beautiful path of distractions threatening to dip your sanity even lower. "Be the dirty little villain that I know you are, doll."

But just as soon as the stimulation was hitting you a second time, so it suddenly disappeared. One second fingers were flexing against your tender flesh, coated by your arousal through the layers of fabric separating you and fluttering with the promise of an impending release, and then the very next instant you were left to whimper (a villain like you, actually whimpering!) in the unbearable wake of their absence.

When your eyes searched for the Hero’s again, in his blown out pupils you could only dare interpret part of the enjoyment he was getting from watching you scram for his touch, beautifully bold handwriting spelling out arousal for all to read.

Watching you so easily betray your own ego after all of your lip service? More than simple music to his ears, it was an entire sonnet.

"But, now that I think of it, you were the one trying to walk away free from this. So why should you be the one getting pleasured?"

Even in your precarious situation, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Apparently, your discomfort at being denied was enough to forego your better senses.

The bindings contracted around you in quick response to your insolence, your neck being craned even further and your arms mishandled until they were behind your back instead of at your sides, a sharp pain blooming from your shoulders as you struggled to adjust.

Treated like this, he really did make you feel like a helpless little doll. (Goddamn, that thought alone was enough to have your juices gushing again, the trails of your excitement starting to make a mess of your inner thighs.)

"You don’t get it, do you?" He asked in a despondent voice, unblinking eyes still refusing to abandon your face as he elaborated, "you should already be on your way to some second-rate villain prison, cuffed and muzzled and someone else’s problem."

At his reminder of what you believed to be your impending fate, the mocking pout on your face transformed into a retelling of real horror. Because your spotless reputation was the one trick in your book that had managed to give you a sliver of notoriety over the rest of the unremarkable criminals, much more significant than any quirk or grandiose crime.

So for someone like you to lose that? You might as well hang up the villain costume and retire, for all anyone would care. (And yes, you had been called an attention whore a lot throughout your life, but who could blame you when you couldn’t help but thrive on it?)

Sensing your spiraling thoughts, the Pro raised his eyebrows in an almost pitiful stint, as if he was truly empathizing with the agonized look of your face.

"I know you don’t want that, doll." As his declaration dragged on, the grip that had been steadying your jaw was swapped instead for the peculiar feeling of damp fabric —your pantyhose being pushed against your cheek and spreading your own juices around, all while Eraserhead intently studied the new wave of disgust coloring your features. "So why not show me that even a villain slut like you can behave? Give me a reason to believe that and..." The slickered garment was now pressing to your closed lips, your eyes starting to water with the weight of the humiliation you were being made to endure. "Maybe then I’ll consider letting you go."

You knew he was lying, had every right to doubt the sincerity of his promise and, in its place, conclude he just meant to take advantage of you in your desperate state and then leave you for the pigs to find anyway.

You knew all of that, and yet you still opened your mouth and allowed him to do as he pleased. When he worked the pair of soiled stockings inside, you had troubles recognizing the pathetic sight being reflected your way from the wild hue of his gaze.

For someone who had always prided herself in being a predator, you had never looked more like prey.

"Fuck, that’s it, doll." He pushed the piece further with his fingers, forcing you to stretch your lips until your jaw started to hurt from the strain. His fingers swirled inside, pressing the soaked material against the flat of your tongue and instructing you to eagerly lick it.

You had never felt as debased in your entire life, being forced to choose between savoring your own arousal while tied up in an alley or ruining a reputation you had fought so earnestly to maintain.

(And yet your thighs were pressing together now, attempting to create some meager friction to alleviate a yearning that did nothing but shift, demand, grow.)

"Look at you cleaning up your own mess," he almost sounded proud of you as you kept dutifully sucking, his other hand brushing your hair away from your shoulders in a strangely consoling way. "Seeing you all obedient like this, one could be fooled into thinking there is yet hope for reform."

By the time the Hero finally took his hand away, bunching up the stockings before fitting them into one of the hidden pockets of his dark costume, you thought you could discern a mocking smile through the clouds of tears.

"But now, now, doll… are you gonna keep crying or do you wanna try and take proper care of me next?"

Not finding it in yourself to raise your voice again, you instead opted to wet your lips hesitantly as you awaited for him to elaborate further. There was a question dying to be asked, struggling somewhere alongside the myriad of insolent retorts and insults you wished you could swing the Hero’s way without being harshly reprimanded.

"I wouldn’t call that proper exactly," a chuckle reverberated from the back of his throat, gravely and dark as he misrepresented your movements. Fingers still slick from your saliva caressed your bottom lip, massaging it in a way which played straight into the undermining tilt of his words. "Although I’m sure you must be dying to wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Would give you a good reason to stay quiet, uh?"

You really had been intending not to fall for his obvious goading, not trying to give the Pro anymore reasons to be harsh with you (or even worse, give him an excuse to leave you alone and to a fate worse than his company ever would be).

Had tried so hard too, but the cocky villain in you could only take so much degradation before it snapped.

"Goddamn it, are you trying to fuck me or bore to death?" As for the slight quivering in your voice, you dearly hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it.

Predictably enough, that slip earned you another harsh tug from the capture weapon, your whole body pulled back until you thought you were about to be snapped.

"I was just about to praise you for being all sweet for me, V/N." The switch from his pet names to your alias felt like a bucket of ice being dumped on you, voice a slow drawl while he tugged once more from your bottom lip, but this time harsh enough to have you wincing. "I’m trying to teach you how to be a proper girl, so don’t make me regret it. Or would you prefer to go take a prolonged vacation in a holding cell?"

He already knew your answer judging by the way his eyes coldly studied you, unearthing the secrets you uselessly attempted to hide with an ease that unnerved you (and, as much as you loathe to admit, fascinated you).

When he tugged at your mouth again, nails sinking just enough to be noticeable, you knew he was expecting a verbal answer. And a nice one, at that.

"Then fucking get on with it…" Words slurred at the end, caught up in the increasingly somber aura of your captor before you swallow thickly, quickly adding as an afterthought, "Please."

At that, his scowl receded enough for some satisfaction to find its way back into his grimace.

The more you struggled, the sweeter your surrender became.

"Not perfect, but better," he conceded with a thoughtful hum.

If you had properly studied just who he was beyond his active Heroism, then you would’ve understood just how accustomed he was to insubordination. If anything, your act only served to make him feel more at home.

You had barely any time to wonder about whatever he had planned next though, because in an instant that damned contraction of his was moving you around once more, twisting you until you were facing the brick wall of the alleyway with heaving breaths.

Your legs were now maneuvered until you were forced to keep them apart just a smidgen, the new inviting space between your thighs surely a most intoxicating promise for the sick man manhandling you. And your back experienced pain afterwards too, harshly pushed until you had no option but to allow yourself to be pressed against the dirty walls; As a result, you found yourself with your ass backed up and for the world to see, the frilly skirt of your dress caught somewhere between all the movements.

Yet even being roughed up as you were, when a hand reached out to tug your ruined underwear away you couldn't help greedily rutting into it, too worried by the fire gathering in your lower belly to care about maintaining a semblance of the reluctance you would later claim to have experienced.

It was almost comical for the Hero to observe the pathetic image you were now serving up on an ornate platter —especially when compared to the list of deviant crimes and horrors your spreadsheet of accomplishments preached. For all intents and purposes, you really were a horrible, messed up individual…

So it was a wonder why his mind had kept supplying him with the same descriptor ever since he first saw you, the same sweet little word that he thought might as well be written all over your skin for how accurate it described you.

A cute little doll (soon to be his cute little doll). Despite believing himself to be a fairly responsable Hero, the man had never wanted to play with anything as much as he did with you.

The sound of a zipper being lowered was alarmingly loud in the emptiness of your surroundings, as loud as a wail to your sensitive ears. When you squirmed below your restraints, nonetheless, you could no longer pinpoint whether it was from unadulterated fear or a sick sense of anticipation.

How easy it had been to break you, even if you would never recognize it openly.

"Knew you were into it, and now watch your ass trembling in excitement for me." He was chuckling again, not pretending like the cruelty coating his words had any other intention but to degrade you further. It had been just his luck, to find the one villain who just so happened to enjoy it. "I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, doll?"

When the lewd sound of one of his fists pumping his cock reached your ears, you didn’t even bother disguising the whines of complaint refusing to be contained any longer.

"Stop..." Words spilled from clenched teeth, growled out with an annoyance that no longer sought to defy, "Fucking..." but to demand instead, "Teasing."

"Hmm, that’s cute. Why don’t you try begging me though?" His cadence was growing as bated as his breath, littered by intermittent curses as his eyes dined on the sight of your glistening core, held up and offered up for him to do as he pleased. "Beg for me to use you, and if you put on a good enough show I might just let you off."

Another shiver rampaging it's way through your body, an exhilaration that could not be entirely pinpointed.

"Please…" You started, rough intonation dripping with venom —But Eraserhead didn't seem to mind the sardonic nature of your pleading though, not as you heard the litany of damnations being spilled from his lips. Your shameful excitement, your bitterness, your hatred… he would feast on it all and do it gladly. "Get on with it, bastard. Didn't anyone tell you never to toy with your food?"

A low murmur was your only response at first, followed by the lewd sound of his pre-cum covered cock being harshly jerked.

"Hmmm, aren't you being a bit too demanding…" His steps echoed again behind you, his unoccupied hand coming up to massage your ass with a rather firm grip. "Even with the begging, I don't think you've learned your place yet."

When he planted a slap in the same place he had been eagerly caressing before, sharp and flaring up your nerves with the sting of pain and humiliation, you couldn't stop your scream from turning into a wanton little moan halfway through.

Even if he was hitting you, it still meant he was touching you, and so enticingly close to the place you actually needed tended to.

"Do it…" your breathing was too heavy to speak in full fluid sentences, body flushed and mind filled with the buzzing of desire. "Do it again, fuck."

You were still not begging him like he asked, but it seemed like your choice of words still greatly pleased him. Another slap rained on your ass, his big warm palm massaging the same reddening spot right after.

And he kept going, the spanking echoing through your body and sending both pain and pleasured shivers up your spine—lewd sounds mixing in with the increasing pace of his other fist pumping his cock. Even without directly touching you, your pussy clenched and weeped with each firm hit.

"Damn, it's my first time meeting such a masochistic whore." Punctuated by his most painful slap yet, the globes of your ass left trembling and a furious shade of crimson to match his lust-filled eyes. "I can see why you've managed to stay free for so long, little villain." The debasement, paired with the pain of his firm strikes, had you moaning even louder. You couldn't even recognize your own sounds, nor the thrills you felt at this entire fucked up ordeal. "Wonder how many other Pros you showed this beautiful sight to."

Even through the fog of sensations impeding you from being wholly coherent, though, you still couldn't help but want to set the record straight.

"None, fuck…" Words merging into another expectant whine when you felt his hand gripping your flesh again, only this time he was kneading you in an oddly tender way —Urging you on, fingers creeping closer to your needy hole. "I'm not… usually in the business of fucking Heroes. Shit, I hate this…"

But you didn’t, and when you were surprised by the warmth of his naked erection barely grazing the sensitive outer lips of your cunt, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you.

"Goddamn, V/N, even while you're an ill-mannered brat you still manage to know just what to say."

And then the older man was sliding his cock in the juncture of your thighs, teasing your core by pressing against it while grunts began to escape him. You thought you could cry from having him so close yet still not where you wanted him, but then his shallow thrusts against your legs proved to be much more stimulating than you first expected.

The fat head of his cock even managed to somewhat stimulate your puffy clit with its movements, pushing in its direction as your essence continued to leak out and cover you both. And It was so absolutely debauched, to think a Hero was using your thighs like a fucktoy while you were tied down and unable to stop it....

But it felt so good. Even without him actually in you, you had never been this turned on before.

"More… ughhh," you were now screaming with the side of your face pressed flush against the disgusting brick walls, needy sounds filling the night and making it privy to your descent into madness.

Another thrust, this time angled just precisely enough not to caress your pleasurable areas. Punishment, you feverishly thought while you attempted to wiggle your ass, eager to force more of that delicious friction you were quickly becoming hypnotized by.

"Now, V/N," his gruff voice had adopted a mocking tone of reprimand as he continued to rut against the soft skin of your thighs. "Haven't I taught you anything, yet? If you want something…" The hand returned to your heated skin, digits underneath you both spreading your pussy enough for the chilly night air to send shivers straight to your core. "You gotta say please."

And say please you did. Screamed it even, so eager for more and already far beyond feeling any embarrassment.

He didn't fuck you, not like you really wanted, but suddenly his thick shaft was sliding between your lips as his capture weapon aided him in angling your body just right, pulsing against your hole while he found a new rythimn. When both of his hands returned, one of them held you back to make the process even easier while the other swiftly joined his cock in tending to your eager pussy.

So lost were you in the new raw excitement seizing you, in the knowledge of just how messed up you both were for engaging in such debauchery —so distracted that you didn't even notice the faint buzzing returning to your arms, the vibrancy of an old frequency being reactivated and allowed to encapsulate you again.

(You didn’t notice, but fuck if it didn’t made your orgasm all the sweeter.)

You were cumming like that, your moans resembling squeaks, your body feeling closer to a used fucktoy than a human being. The hero kept rutting against you, the joint efforts of his cock and hand mercilessly continuing to abuse your spasming cunt while your cries filled the space with their decadence.

You felt dirty, guilty, maybe even a little ashamed as the orgasm briefly gave you a clarity of mind your arousal had clouded.

And yet, despite it all, it had been the best you felt in years, possibly ever. As the Pro now tugged your hair, forcing you to wrench your neck just enough to look at him over your shoulder, you couldn't help licking your lips in expectation of what he had in store next.

"You're gonna show me your face next time you come, little villain." He gave you just enough time to nod, eyebrows drawn as your pleasure got impossibly dragged out by the stimulation he still bathed you with. "And you're gonna keep begging me, keep showing me why you deserve to stay free, okay?"

It was commendable, how collected he managed to sound while thrusting into your thighs like that, the sounds of skin slapping against skin driving each of his words home.

"Yes, fuck, whatever you want…" Despite your senses shortly coming back earlier, you were still too far gone to rethink your poor choices. You just knew you wanted more, and so you asked for it. "Just give me more, please."

So fucking obedient. If your parents could see you know, their failure of a villain daughter being all proper and learning to beg for what she wanted? Well, perhaps saying they'd be proud was a stretch, considering you were also the one getting fucked in the middle of a filthy alley.

What you hadn’t expected, however, was just how well your begging would work.

Because the next thrust of his shaft was not between your legs, but aimed to finally breach your needy cunt instead, easily filling you up in one go with how utterly soaked in both of your juices you already were. The girth of him had you already clenching with renewed vigor, his hand stopping his assault on your clit just to give you enough time to truly savor the new intoxicating sensation.

And when your eyes found his again, so drunk on the waves of pleasure you were that you also failed to notice the lack of scarlet coloring the orbs boring into yours, now inescapable voids of dark desire and a type of intense fixation you thought hadn't been there moments ago.

(Or maybe it was always there, and you had been too busy with your own turmoil to notice the clues being left by your so-called enemy).

"Want me to stuff you properly?" His guttural question hit you at the same time as his sharp movements found your tender spot with experienced ease, walls tightening around him while your entire body struggled to continue holding yourself upright, relying more and more on the capture weapon to keep you from toppling over.

The binds still hurt from how tightly they wrapped around you, bruises sure to be left on their wake, but by that point you weren't so sure anymore the sting was an entirely bad thing. If anything, it just made the pleasure all the sweeter by comparison.

"Want me to fill you with so much cum that you reek of hero cock for the rest of the week?" He laughed while he regurgitated some of your words from earlier, the hand pressing against your lower stomach caressing you with a distinct sense of ownership as he elicited another loud moan with a sharp movement of his hips.

Noticing you reacting not only to his actions but to his quips, you could practically hear the self congratulatory smirk as he spoke next.

"Bet the other villains would love knowing how much of a cockhungry whore you turned into too, doll. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy."

And he was right, in a way. Because what would your fellow villains think, seeing you being wrecked by one of the most infamous Pros in the business, lowering yourself to pleading and screaming as he rearranged your insides.

Would you get called a disloyal whore or just a plain traitor? Not only would your spotless reputation and the myth you had fought to build collapse, but from its ashes your eternal shame could be erected.

A shame that would tower over you, looming around you while the eyes of your peers followed you everywhere. You could even picture the jests veered your way, the looks of utter disgust and ridicule...

Somehow, the idea of anyone finding out only made your screams grow louder, impossibly more fervent.

"Fucking… get on with it."

However, his rhythm was rapidly interrupted after your jab, his cock pulling out almost entirely as your core convulsed with the sudden staggering emptiness it was left to grapple with. More whimpers, struggling against the set of eternally unforgiving ties encasing your body.

"But you're making me do all the work, little one" Another slap shook your entire frame as it landed heavily on your still pained cheeks. You were so sore, both from the previous set of hits and from the sheer exhaustion starting to set in, muscles tight and resentful from the awkward positions your body had been manhandled into. "If you really want to continue this, how about you start doing some of the heavy lifting, uh?" Just like before, his palm started massaging the tender spot he had just smacked, fingers digging into your supple flesh being as close to comforting as the Pro seemed capable of. "Show me just how good you can be."

And you could've argued, truly, could've even attempted to hold onto the last vestiges of your pride…

You could’ve done a lot of things, but the truth was that when his weapon relented its hold at last, retreating from the underside of your knees and giving in just a smidge for the first time since you had been captured, you didn't waste any seconds before you were chasing after your high with renewed vigor.

Greedily sinking into him with an obscene sigh, you audibly marveled at the curve of his member being deliciously imprinted in your insides. While you copied the cadence the Hero had previously employed, his grip on your lower belly fluttered, almost like he couldn't decide whether to take control back or allow you to humiliate yourself further with your own zealousness.

It seemed like the later prospect won him over in the end though, because he remained almost impassively still as you did all the work needed to bring you both deliriously close to your peaks.

The sight must've been spectacular, watching you, renown villain V/N, so thoroughly broken and willing to heed his every command. Impaling yourself on his cock, moaning and continuing to beg him for something you were already taking for yourself.

If he died right then and there, he doubted Heaven wouldn't have as much appeal as the scene still unfolding before his eyes. (But again, considering his actions, Heaven wouldn't really be the right place for either of you.)

You were just about to reach your second orgasm, toes curling inside your shoes, fists clenched and a face that spelt poetic extasis. Angling the way you took his cock, every single movement driving him painstakingly deeper, slamming against a spot that made you imagine the stars falling from the sky all around you, their light being the one bathing you instead of the malfunctioning street lamps.

So goddamn close…

Only to have him pull out again, this time completely. You were clenching against nothing, all stimulation stolen from you, and the bitterness of a ruined orgasm promptly dragged curses and complaints out of you before you could even think to stop them.

Eyes searched his, urgently seeking an explanation for his withdrawal only to find his glare fixated instead on that same dirty pair of stockings that had started it all.

Eraserhead must have taken the garment out of his pocket sometime while he fucked you, unfolding it from its scrunched up state until the crotch was visibly presented for both of you to admire, dark sheer fabric still stained from a mix of your arousal and spit.

When the Pro looked at you again, a beautifully dark smile topped his attractive face. He looked painfully content, the way he studied your own mortified expression reminding you of an artist studying his masterwork.

"Only the truly obedient ones get their cunts filled." You noticed then how his other hand was jerking him off again, erection rubbing against the nylon undergarments in a most obscene depiction. Too bad you were too frustrated to appreciate any of it. "I don't think you've… hell, you haven't earned it yet, V/N."

You didn't even notice you were tearing up from the annoyance until it was too late. And maybe that was what finally did it, seeing you actually crying at his refusal to breed you like the slut you both knew you were, writhing in exaggerated despair as you found yourself feeling jealous of a stupid pair of tights, because not long after your pathetic reaction the man was letting out a pained groan of his own and spilling himself all over the damned garment.

But instead of rubbing your wailing in your face after he came down from his own delicious high, last few spurts of cum slowing down to a halt, you were surprised instead by the weapon that had been binding you for the longest time finally retreating.

As expected, you unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, feet now unprepared for supporting your weight and your entire being wholly exhausted after enduring the roughest fuck you had ever experienced. It hurt all over, although you weren't sure whether your still present longing wasn't what pained you the most.

When you looked up to the Pro again, trying to find an answer to the new freedom you were experiencing, you were surprised by having the cum-dripped stockings thrown in your face.

And quite literally so, the still wet seed dribbling down your cheek and into your trembling lips, all before you collected enough wits to grab the offending item and pull it down with an expression of unadulterated disgust.

"Sorry, doll, but you were pouting so irresistibly," The Eraser user actually laughed, this time the sound coming with an untroubled merriment you did not think he was capable of.

He actually looked worn out while he tucked himself back into his costume, accommodating the pieces of clothing until all hints from your ravenous affair disappeared. The bandages were wrapping themselves around his neck once more, looking more like an extravagant scarf than the most precise set of inmovilazing gear you had ever endured.

However, something about his attitude had you forgetting all about his newest slight, much too worried by a new cause of worry.

"Hold on..."

Eraserhead looked down at you from his place after you raised your voice, urging you to continue as he finished getting himself presentable. The air of nonchalance around him was almost more intimidating than any of the actual threats or vulgar comments he had voiced prior. Almost.

"Are you…" you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, voice still raspy and hoarse after what had just transpired. "Are you really letting me go?"

The man just raised one of his eyebrows at that, eyes crinkling for the first time and looking strangely amused.

"Doll, I stopped exerting my quirk on you while I was still teasing you good and proper," he declared bluntly. When his orbs glimmered again, you now felt like an imbecile as you finally realized they had completely lost the reddish hue to them. "So you know what? I thought you deserved to get an out of jail free card for behaving yourself… even if you still need to work some more on your manners."

To call your shocked expression dumbfounded would be a disservice.

When his now bottomless eyes bore into yours for one final time, all you could do was stare back in dazzled shock. Your quirk was back, the Pro himself had just confirmed it, and yet you were still nailed to the spot, still anticipating his next words without even thinking of attacking him in the meantime.

One little tumble and you were already his brightest pupil yet. He was now so glad to have waited that long, it only made the outcome all the more fulfilling.

"You don’t need to be so surprised, Y/N, we'll be seeing each other soon,” He kneeled in front of you for an instant, both hands reaching out to hold up your face in a gesture more resembling a lover than… well, whatever the hell you two were. So entranced you were then, that the use of your real name barely even registered. “It’s been difficult to keep you away from trouble thus far,” his acknowledgment reverberated in the alley, its meaning something else lost to you as you couldn’t help but become entranced by the new peculiar softness he addressed you with, “but getting you like this now, seeing you break so easily… fuck, I’ll mold you right back up, doll, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

And just then, for the first time you realized, the Hero’s lips were brushing against yours gently, uncharacteristically careful as he kissed you slowly. Even his hands were tender while they guided you, treating you as if you truly were a doll that could just be snapped with a mere wrong movement. As if he hadn’t just been treating you like a dirty hole for him to use and abuse just short instants ago.

But at least he did not seem to care about the mess that was your face at the moment, about the cum stains or the still damp trails of tears. And, for whatever reason, you found yourself returning the gesture in kind, melting into the oddly affectionate touch of a man you were still halfway sure you loathed.

Even after he left you, alone and a mess still toppled over on the floor with the shadow of humiliation cloaking your shoulders, your fingers couldn’t help but touch your lips with a bizarre mixture of bewilderment and horror.

He told me I would see him soon, your mind supplied as you found yourself irreparably fixating your stare on the pair of now completely ruined tights you were still holding onto. The fact that you felt any type of excitement about the notion did not fail to mortify you.

God, even for villain standards you were fucked.

But it was okay, because misery loved company and, with time at his disposal and the right amount of coaching, Shouta was sure he could teach you to properly crave his soon enough.

— — —

And, 8k of foul smut later, if y’all read through that whole thing... drop by my ask to recieve your congratulatory gold stars! ⭐ (jk but I do appreciate hearing y’alls thoughts, it’s what keeps me halfway productive 🖤)

Last but not least, very special thanks to my best pals @reinawritesbnha, @snappysnapo and @drxwsyni (who actually proof read this and helped me out immensely with her Big Brain Feedback. A TALENTED ANGEL).

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