#and i can feel the wind blowing in the direction of making him the villain and i. cant.

[betafreud]

finally getting around to watching heartbreak high season two and i swear to god if rowan ends up being "bird psycho" i will crash out. let malakai have a pure, stress-free romance for ONCE. PLEASE. dont let my boy be evil.

[a-sparrows-melody]

Mary On A Cross

His voice rasps, low and brittle, as if a strong gust of wind could break him now. "Why?" he asks. He is kneeling on the ground, shaking and trembling. His ragged and torn robes are only a reminder of what had once been—but even in this state, he looks so good.

A week with him could never be enough. He promised me last night that I would never have to do this. He promised he would kill himself before the battle ended, put up a show only for my allies. He promised me all of that. But me? I was selfish. I prevented him from dying in any way I could, and now I'm burned with the scars meant for him. I wanted him all to myself—but the Fates would never allow it. Either I kill him, or he kills me. That damned prophecy.

"Why?" he asks again when I remain silent. I'm not quite sure why I'm doing this, either. I'm a masochist. His expression now mirrors what I feel inside—disgust and fury and pity and love and everything in between. The wind picks up speed, and his brown hair blows haphazardly around his face, caked with mud and sweat. His ivory-colored linen robes are dirty and full of holes. I want to comfort him. Cherish him. I need to pay my price for having him.

I have him at my mercy, yet his brown eyes—so full of fractured hopes and emotions—hold level with my own, as if his defiance will save him this time. I blink, and his expression changes as fast as the wind switches directions. He is smug now, his chapped lips ticking up at the corner. I am anxious, so anxious, but I don't dare show it on my face, knowing this is the reaction he is looking for.

"Would you kill me? Would you kill me?" he mocks, tilting his head slightly, his eyes searching my face for a chink in the armor, any sort of affirmation—but he's scared too; I can see it. Stop looking so good, please, I need to kill you, please make it easier—but he won't. I know. Loving him was never easy; I can't imagine how killing him would be. His brown eyes stare at me, unblinking and confident—though I know he knows his time has come. At my hands. I hate you for doing this to me. I hate the prophecy. I hate everyone and everything.

And now I doubt whether he is at my mercy, or I am at his.

My arms are growing heavy; the adrenaline is wearing off. The battle exhaustion is catching up with me, and the cut on my side is throbbing painfully, blood trickling down. I feel woozy now. I have to make a decision fast—but I wish I didn't have to. I want to sit here, hold him, and die. I want him. I need him.

I need all I have in me to try to forget that I love him, but I can't. I need to finish this now. Before I lose my nerve. Before either he fulfills the prophecy, or I do. I wish, I wish, I wish. I wish he was mine.

"So weak. Look at you," he chuckles mirthlessly, breathlessly.

I really don't want to do this. I can't believe I have to make this choice. The things he promised me, our lives together, separate from this horrible world where I don't have to be the hero, seem like eons ago when it was only last night. I shudder, close my eyes, taking a long deep breath.

I'd once asked him why he wanted to raze the world. Start a new system, with him at the Head. Everyone deserves proper justice. And what he reasoned was true—corruption. Negligence. Racism. He was right. His family was a victim of this society, and he was right about it. But this isn't how you do it. Destroying the world doesn't make it better. I tried to tell him that. I argued with him, fought with him, yelled at him, but nothing could change his mind. In the end, I only asked him, broken and begging on the edge of his bed, to leave this to someone else. I didn't want him to die. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted him to leave it up to someone else so I wouldn't have to die.

Apparently, losing your entire family to murder and molestation could make anyone this villainous. I wouldn't know. I've never had family. But there should have been another way, another method.

The world or him? The world or my world? Why should I have to make this choice?

He told me, "No." And that was the moment I fell for him. His stupid stubbornness, his defiance and bravery and selflessness. Sure, he was flawed—but he was mine.

And I did so much. I tried to give my powers away so I wouldn't have to kill him. I tried to kill myself, but somehow I was always saved. I debated with him to do the same, but he wouldn't listen, thinking he was born for greatness. His ego got him in the end. He was doing the same thing that happened to him and his family. In trying to create a better world, he was destroying it. Bad things do not cancel out bad things.

The world or him? Caesar or Rome's democracy?

If I choose him, he'll burn the world.

If I choose the world, he'll burn me.

I'm willing to give myself up if it means the world isn't harmed.

I'm willing to kill him so he doesn't kill everyone else.

But I want him so bad—No. Not now. Now is the time to do what you were born for. Now is the time to save the world. Bad things do not cancel out bad things.

Finally, I open my eyes and I speak, my choice apparent.

"Your beauty never, ever scared me," my voice is wobbly and cracking at the end, and I want to cry right now, but I'm just so tired. I'm scared now, properly scared. I look at him, and he can see the decision in my eyes. He's resigned, given up, disappointed in me. I raise the sword above his chest, hesitating slightly—and then he nods, ever so little. Mocking me. As if saying, "Do it. It was all you were made for—to stop change. Do it while I'm happy. Change the world for me. You owe me that much." He's accepted his Fate, and I should probably accept mine too.

And then I plunge the sword into where his heart should be, while his face pulls up in a tiny smile, as if he knew this would happen.

What have I done?

"Only for you, my love," he croaks out as he finally gives up. His eyes never leave mine, welling with tears from the pain. There is an obnoxious ringing in my ears, and I am hyper-aware of all my wounds. My vision is zooming in and out, and I cannot focus. Not now, not now, not now.

It's too late. I fall to the ground, my knees banging painfully (although everything is painful now). I don't see the way he smiles at me, genuine and unwavering. I don't see the way his crimson blood stains his ivory robes, spreading like an infection. I don't see the way his eyes search for mine one last time.

What have I done?

I press my lips against his chapped ones, eyes shut so tight, looking for that little jolt of life, hoping he would know that I love him, I love him so much that when I killed him, I killed a part of myself so deeply intertwined with his that the pain would be equivalent to ripping my organs out one by one. I love him so much that I would be consumed by the fire of it if he wasn't my rain. I pull away, confused and bloodied. His expression doesn't change. His body is still warm. He still looks the same.

No! No! Please, no!

It doesn't quite register, what I've done. I am living in a haze, deluding myself into thinking his brown eyes still hold some emotion, no matter how glassy and inanimate they are. That his smile is private and only for me.

It doesn't quite register until I see my friends across the barren ground, stained with blood as I am, knotted, mangled hair and ripped clothes like mine, waving at me and smiling as if I hadn't just committed a sin.

I fulfilled the prophecy—that is my sin. I should have let him kill me. But I am selfish, selfish, selfish. I look back at him again. My eyes refuse to close.

No! Come back! Please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

The grief washes over me, the haze around my brain turning red, cement filling around my lungs, and I can't breathe, knowing the full extent of my crime. I cannot live without him. I cannot.

I scream, pulling out whatever breath I have left in my lungs. What have I done? I scream until my throat refuses to comply and all my tears are dried, and I am spraying my snot everywhere. I'm pretty sure my friends ran toward me during this because I can feel one now, behind my shoulder, holding me, comforting me—I can't make out who because my eyes are filled with tears now.

"You killed him! What's the big deal? You saved us! You saved us all!"

That's the big deal. I killed him. Please, go away. I only want him.

But I know what to do. This is the only thing I am sure of.

I pull the sword out by its jeweled hilt. It comes out with a sickening sound, dripping blood and gooey organs. His face remains the same, his smile is horrific. I love him.

I press the weapon to my chest and stare at my friends, watching their expressions turn to horror. I'll be sorry to see them go.

"What are you doing? Put that thing down," my friend's voice is low and more dangerous than I've ever heard.

My friend tries to rip the sword out of my arms, but hell hath no fury like a man without his love. I'm strong now.

"No." My voice comes out cracked and soft.

"Dude, stop! Stop it! Why are you doing this? Do you not want to celebrate? Do you not want cake? Horses? Agatha! Agatha, come here!"

"No cake. I want him. I never liked Agatha. I love him."

"Him—the one you just killed? You're not making any sense! Dude, stop this nonsense!"

Nonsense, my friend says. But I want him. I'll have him. I'll defy the Fates. I'll do it.

"It's not nonsense. I loved him. I killed him."

"Dude, are you gay?" I don't bother answering.

I turn away. "Your beauty never, ever scared me," I whisper to him, too tired to speak, even though I know he can't hear me, and I am suddenly reminded of a memory.

My friend tries to take the sword from me again, but in my struggle to keep the bloody sword in my arms, I pull it close to my body, and my friend accidentally pushes the point in. I feel pain like never before. It blasts through me like a cannon, and my vision is gone. There is white all around, and some chirping sound in my ears. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, more pain envelops me. There is a shrieking sound in the air, and I can't feel or hear or see anything. I am being deatomized, one by one—it hurts so bad, I just want it all to end. Please, take it out! Take it out! Take it from me!

And in my last moments, when I am unsure of whether I am alive or dead, I see him. His face is lit up with happiness, colors, and love for me. But there is something else in his eyes—regret? Anger? Sadness? He is running toward me, and now he is holding me close against his warm chest, whispering that we are okay and he loves me, and it is all I can do not to bawl like a baby from the shock and pain of it all.

He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear, "You didn't change the world for me. You promised. You could have saved them—you could have saved them all. You had the power. How selfish."

Death comes toward me with its black robes billowing, and I want to run away from it. I want to burn the world for him—but I let him burn me.

How selfish, indeed.

-X-

I rewrote an older post of mine for refining it for a contest and I noticed so much potential that I just had to do what I did. I've never put so many emotions into one tiny fic and now I can't speak properly. I love morally grey hero x morally grey villains (I didn't include any names so you're free to imagine whatever and whoever you want to). 

Honestly, I didn't want the tiny twist at the end (I love my happy endings) but I felt it would be slightly necessary. Also I loved the friend cause your friend is literally trying to commit suicide and you ask him if he's gay. Priorities, brother. Priorities. 

How was it? Was it the most gut-wrenching, heart-breaking thing you've ever read? Please, I need to know - I'm submitting this for a contest (and honestly I'm just sadistic).

Okay, maybe this is getting too long. Any feedback?

@architectofsuffering (how is it?)

[biocrafthero]

Prompt: You are a literal god who pretends to be a d-list superhero. You’ve grown extremely attached to the people of the village you protect. You get news that an epic battle is taking place near your village and would most likely destroy it…

———

You've never really been the flashy type, admittedly. Even if your domain contains immense powers—rot and decay, notably—you prefer to exist under the guise of the "Bone Mage." It sounds silly, but you embrace it wholeheartedly, even if your fellow gods laugh about it.

You don't do anything special with your powers, simply carrying around a sack of bones you found laying around in the forest in order to construct things. Sometimes you make the strangest weapons your enemies have ever seen, and other times you animate small constructs that resemble the various critters you adore. It doesn't require a lot of effort on your part, but it keeps your chosen village at peace and scares off any villains-of-the-week that happen to stumble across it.

You have history with this place, a history you would never admit to. A small shrine that sunk to the bottom of the old well, a relic that has been standing for over 200 years. You would rather not be held on the pedestal of a deity, but you can never turn down a gift.

Right now, in this moment, you simply exist as a strange man who lives in a shack on the outskirts of town. A wooden mask hangs on the wall for when you're called to action, and your shelves are filled with various things that the local population has given to you as thanks. You wear gloves to hide how your skin slips from the bone—just one of your various physical oddities that accompanies your nature.

You're happy here; it's a thought you commonly have as you sip on your coffee during these cold autumn mornings. You turn on your radio to the news, adjusting the antenna slightly while you listen.

"-- Here we can see the Soaring Spade taking another blow from the Dark King's newly-forged blade. The battle looks nasty, but we can trust our dashing hero to pull through--"

Ah, more of this again. Soaring Spade is the fresh-blooded hero from the city, and Dark King is an old colleague of yours who went rogue. The two of them are probably having a rough time picking each other apart right now.

"You best get away from me, young one!" The Dark King shouts—he's always been like that, loud enough for the newscasters to hear him, his presence commanding. "The Helm-splitter will cleave you!"

"Not if I pry it from your hands, villain!" Soaring Spade shouts back. Their voice sounds young.

"They go in for a swing," the newscaster commentates, "and--"

A bright flash of light comes from the window. The earth shakes, and you nearly fall out of your chair.

After gathering yourself for a moment, you rush to the window and look outside, only to see a pillar of smoke bellowing from one of the city's skyscrapers, a wake of rubble leading away from it and through several blocks. You can't help but stare with widened eyes at it all.

"They were blown east, and with such force!! So this is the secret that the Dark King's weapon holds!"

You hard heard in passing that he was up to something, but you had no idea it was something as devastating as this.

"The Dark King is now chasing after Soaring Spade!" The newscaster turns away from the mic; "We need a better angle, try following--"

Something shoots out from some of the far-off trees, closer than you expected. Is that...?

Quickly, you take your mask off the wall and grab your sack of bones, rushing outside. You see a speck off in the distance, Soaring Spade rushing back to the city with their power of flight. A glint of light comes from the sky nearby them—

Another bright flash. You feel the wind rushing past you this time, but you hold your ground. Soaring Spade slams back into the earth.

The direction they're headed in, at this speed and power... You feel your stomach sink.

Quickly, you rummage through your collection, grabbing enough bones for a small construct. You animate it in your hand, and instruct it to run to the village and warn them. It leaps off of you and scurries off, heeding your commands.

You run in the direction of the battle.

You cannot recall the last time something like this happened here, if there had been anything at all like this before in the first place.

Weaving your way between fallen trees and scattered rocks, you arrive at Soaring Spade's impact site. They look up at you in confusion, groaning as they attempt to sit up.

"Who... who are you supposed to be...?" They ask.

That's right, most A-list heroes haven't heard of anyone below a C before. "They call me the Bone Mage," you answer.

They let out a pained laugh, trying to muster a smile. "You picked that name yourself?"

You simply shrug in response. "It just kind of stuck," you say. Approaching them, you help them up off the ground. You take notice of how they're bleeding and how they clutch at their ribs. Their flashy costume is torn up.

A loud slam resounds nearby, the Dark King making his entrance as dramatically as you remember. His black armor glints in the sunlight, and the great sword—the Helm-splitter—radiates with energy.

"I won't let you get away from me," he says, "not when I'm this close to victory." He twirls the blade in his hands like it weighs nothing.

"You'll never win...!" Soaring Spade spits back. They try taking a step forward, but stumbles; you catch them before you hit the ground.

The Dark King turns his gaze towards you. "You... you must be one of those nobodies I knew, back when I used to be for the light!"

You would feel offended at him not even remembering your name, but that's the least of your concerns right now. "Look, I just need you two to stop for a minute and take this somewhere else at the very least—"

"No!" He shouts. You can hear a helicopter approaching, likely the reporters you were listening to earlier. "This is my fight, and I decide where it takes place!"

Soaring Spade needs medical attention immediately, and you really need them both away from your little village as soon as possible. Your eyes travel to the Helm-splitter.

"Where did you even get that sword, anyways?" You ask.

"Oh, this?" He says, lifting up the blade to display it to you. "I forged it myself, the process a thousand years old, the weapon itself imbued with magic! Isn't it such a work of art?"

You can't help but glare at him. He likely found methods scouring around the ruins of an old cult that worshipped one of your fellow gods. The weapon itself isn't godly, thankfully—weapons can only attain that status and power if they're made by a god themself—but the method to create it was probably derived from it. The hero in your arms would not survive another direct blow from it, and the village you protect would be obliterated.

You gently set down Soaring Spade. "What... what are you doing?!" They ask you with concern in their eyes.

"Don't worry about me," you tell them. You place your sack of bones on the ground, as well—you're probably going to need both hands for this.

The Dark King laughs at you. "Ha! You're going to challenge me? Someone as simple as yourself should be thinking of your own skin instead."

"I'm not," you say, straightening out your back. "I told you to leave, and you refused. I will defend this place."

"Then die for it!" He yells. Raising Helm-splitter above his head, he rushes at you, and brings it down.

You catch it in your hands.

The force and weight of it makes your knees buckle and it cuts holes in the palms of your gloves, but you hold it in place. Your eyes glow through the holes of your mask.

"Wh... what?!" The Dark King gasps, bewilderment in his tone.

You push the blade away from you, forcing him back. He looks down at the blade, and back up at you. "That's impossible..." he mumbles. "You shouldn't... you couldn't...!"

"You really need to learn about the people you decide to fight," you say, taking off your gloves. "You could never pick your battles."

"No mere mortal could stop the blade, not even the person who forged it themselves!"

"That's too bad." You stomp your feet on the ground as you leap into a casting stance, your collection of bones flying out of the sack and swirling around you.

A large construct forms, and rushes towards the Dark King. He raises his sword, spending out an arc of energy towards it in an effort to defend himself. The bones scatter, but quickly reform the beast's body.

This isn't anything special, just something to buy you time. You remove your gloves—you might as well, since your hands are already showing through the holes—and assemble a two-pronged spear in your hands.

You reach out to puppet the construct; it shifts into a serpentine form and begins to coil around the Dark King, who holds his sword so that he may attempt to strike its head.

He holds still for a moment too long, and you throw your weapon.

Your aim is straight and true, and it catches him by his waist. The strength you throw it with carries him through the trees, cutting through the wood effortlessly. A shockwave of air blows against you like a storm, and you look to Soaring Spade to check on them as it rushes past you. Their eyes are simply transfixed on where the Dark King once stood, frozen in absolute shock.

When the wind settles, you command your construct again, this time so that you may stand upon it. It brings you the whole distance to the struck-down villain, slithering and snaking it's away across the ruined trees and boulders.

Upon arriving, it deforms back into its miscellaneous parts, hovering around you. The spear you threw keeps the Dark King pinned to the ground; he looks up at you with fear in his eyes. You pick up the sword that sits just out of his reach.

"What... are you...?" He struggles to get out.

"I'm nobody special, honestly," you say, adjusting Helm-splitter in your grip. "I'm just a D-list hero who wants to protect their village, nothing more."

Focusing your energy, you channel your power through your hands and into the blade. You hasten it's decay, rust eating away at it and growing across its body like ivy—the power that courses through it crackles and sparks. After a moment, you snap it in two without much effort. The energy that once radiated from it dissipates instantly, and you drop it to the ground.

The Dark King stares at the now useless piece of metal with widened eyes, before shooting up to look at your rotten hands. "You... you can't..."

"I can't what?" You say, walking towards them. "Cant do that? Can't beat you?"

"You can't be..."

You crouch down next to them, holding your face close to theirs. "I can't be human?"

He cowers.

You can't help but laugh. "What would give you that idea?" Looking up, you still see the news helicopter from earlier flying overhead; you give them a small wave. "I told you to leave, so I'm making you leave. I'd rather not be bothered again on a nice morning like this."

You stand up, leaving the Dark King pinned to the ground. The police will come in and arrest him shortly, even if you're a bit far from the city right now.

It's... tempting to go all-out on him right now. You could decay more, you could decay him, but you'd rather not with all these eyes on you. Your domain is powerful, but you are also merciful.

Something begins to rush towards you, and you hear the wind it causes before it shows up. Turning, you see Soaring Spade making their way over. They begin to tumble a little, and you prepare to catch them; thankfully, they stick the landing by your side.

"You're really in no state to fly right now," you say.

"I'll be fine, I've had worse injuries before," they try and reassure you, but you have a feeling they're lying. They look at the Dark King, their expression unreadable. "I'm impressed you beat him so fast! You sure you're just some nobody?"

You shrug. "I'd prefer to keep it that way, honestly..."

"Well, suit yourself! If you want to, I can send in a good word for the agency that sponsors me."

"No, really, I'm good." You can't help but appreciate their generosity, though.

They look towards your hands, eyes widening. "Are you okay...?" They ask, gesturing at your rotting body.

You hide your hands behind your back. "It's just... a side effect of how I got my powers."

"Ah, I see. Happens to the best of us, I suppose." The look off into the distance, before turning back to you. "You said you're the Bone Mage, right?"

You simply nod.

"Cool! I'll keep you in mind if I'm ever in the area, since you seem like a nice guy. I bet whoever you're protecting must adore you."

You smile. "I guess you could say that."

———

Original publish date: April 26th, 2024

Ko-Fi (tips appreciated but never expected!)

[ladyirisreviews]

Final Fantasy 5 (GBA) - Review

Out of all classic Final Fantasy games, it breaks my heart that this one didn't get a 3D remake like 3 and 4 did. This is one of the best Final Fantasy games and if it had gotten that treatment it would be one of my favorite games ever.

The plot starts with one of our protagonists, Lenna, seeing her father, the king of the kingdom of Tycoon, off as he is heading for the wind crystal, one of many crystals that give the world life. He suspects something must be going on because the wind stopped blowing, and so, he flies away on his drake, but without realizing Lenna left the castle in an attempt to follow him.

Meanwhile, another of our protagonists, Bartz, who I renamed as Baldz, is riding along with his Chocobo, when he hears a very loud crash and goes to investigate.

He meets Lenna, who is unconscious in front of a meteorite, and even closer to it he finds an elderly man named Galuf, who appears to have lost his memory, and only seems to remember that he had the mission to check on the wind crystal, and Bartz decides to tag along with both him and Lenna.

With no clear path to the crystal, they go inside a cave, where they spot a pirate ship that seems fine despite no wind to sail with.

In an attempt to steal it the group gets captured by the pirate gang, they are then interrogated by their boss, Faris, who seems preoccupied by the pendant Lenna is wearing, which is the same as theirs.

After listening to what they have to say they agree to take them to the wind crystal, where they also join the party to see what's going on.

After finally arriving they see the crystal is in pieces, then they see what appears to be king Tycoon, who tells them they 4 are the chosen ones by the crystals, and that they must protect them.

And so the adventure starts.

If it weren't for the 3D Remake of Final Fantasy 4, this game would be the one with my favorite plot so far, but the enhanced dialogue of FF4 3D took its place, this is still a good plot for an RPG of its time though.

While relationships between characters are still kind of simple, they do interact a bit. There's also a lot to discover about each character. We might be lacking the cutscene direction from Final Fantasy 4 3D Remake, but it makes the most of what it has.

There are emotional moments that feel impactful and sequences of events that are quite gripping, and the music adds a lot to these scenes, it's incredible what they were able to manage with the limitations all things considered.

The interactions are still far too little and simple for my taste, but I do appreciate them existing at all, it's definitely a step above all of the previous games.

Other than that, this game has one of the best antagonistic characters from the whole series, and it isn't even the main villain, it's more of a henchman of the main villain.

Not only is he the centerpiece of one of the best sequences in the game, he clearly grows as a character and interacts with the main group a lot during the encounters you have with him, he is definitely more fun to see than the main villain in my opinion, and I am glad he periodically shows up for the rest of the game from the moment you encounter him for the first time.

And that's pretty much everything I'm willing to say about the plot, it was definitely a step in the right direction for the series.

Now moving to the gameplay, it is again an ATB battle system, and it behaves more or less like in Final Fantasy 4, character bars fill over time and when they get full you can act.

I love that the bars stop every time an animation plays, it makes it so much easier to plan your moves, and I feel like this is the best iteration of ATB in the whole series because of the rest of the mechanics it adds.

Outside of turn order the combat is the same, attack, item spells, you can multi-target spells, you know how it is.

What sets this game apart from the others is the Job system, and it's one of my favorites in the franchise.

After you arrive at the wind crystal, the crystal shards give you various jobs, and you are free to assign any job to any character you want.

But also, each class levels up with the AP you earn after combat, unlocking skills for each class, BUT ALSO you can assign an unlocked skill from any class a character has, so the character could be a monk who knows basic white magic, anything goes.

The default class, called freelancer, can equip 3 skills and is also able to equip all equipment types, normal classes are restricted on what they can wear.

The whole system is truly lovely, letting you build your characters from the start while also giving you more classes as you advance on the game is such a fun ride, and you can also create some nasty combos with it, I heavily recommend coming up with disgusting builds.

The dungeon design is more or less what you might already expect from the series at this point, but at least there's a handful of puzzles this time around, which is a step forward at least, I still wish there were more to the dungeons, but that's a recurring feeling in this series to me.

Having said that, this is still one of the most fun Final Fantasy games, the plot is engaging enough and it takes unexpected turns, the new job system is nothing short of amazing, and there are a lot of memorable setpieces.

Out of the first five, this would probably be my top pick for someone starting out.

I can only imagine what the team that 3 and 4 3D remake could have improved if they were able to do a 3D remake of this, I really hope it happens someday, a day when Square Enix decides to embrace old aesthetics without compromising the game, come on it would be cheaper to make than any other game they are releasing, but I can only dream.

Definitely try this game if you haven't already, I will be replaying it multiple times in the future and will keep on dreaming it gets a remake of some kind too.

[biocrafthero]

You've never really been the flashy type, admittedly. Even if your domain contains immense powers—rot and decay, notably—you prefer to exist under the guise of the "Bone Mage." It sounds silly, but you embrace it wholeheartedly, even if your fellow gods laugh about it.

You don't do anything special with your powers, simply carrying around a sack of bones you found laying around in the forest in order to construct things. Sometimes you make the strangest weapons your enemies have ever seen, and other times you animate small constructs that resemble the various critters you adore. It doesn't require a lot of effort on your part, but it keeps your chosen village at peace and scares off any villains-of-the-week that happen to stumble across it.

You have history with this place, a history you would never admit to. A small shrine that sunk to the bottom of the old well, a relic that has been standing for over 200 years. You would rather not be held on the pedestal of a deity, but you can never turn down a gift.

Right now, in this moment, you simply exist as a strange man who lives in a shack on the outskirts of town. A wooden mask hangs on the wall for when you're called to action, and your shelves are filled with various things that the local population has given to you as thanks. You wear gloves to hide how your skin slips from the bone—just one of your various physical oddities that accompanies your nature.

You're happy here; it's a thought you commonly have as you sip on your coffee during these cold autumn mornings. You turn on your radio to the news, adjusting the antenna slightly while you listen.

"-- Here we can see the Soaring Spade taking another blow from Dark King's newly-forged blade. The battle looks nasty, but we can trust our dashing hero to pull through--"

Ah, more of this again. Soaring Spade is the fresh-blooded hero from the city, and Dark King is an old colleague of yours who went rogue. The two of them are probably having a rough time picking each other apart right now.

"You best get away from me, young one!" The Dark King shouts—he's always been like that, loud enough for the newscasters to hear him, his presence commanding. "The Helm-splitter will cleave you!"

"Not if I pry it from your hands, villain!" Soaring Spade shouts back. Their voice sounds young.

"They go in for a swing," the newscaster commentates, "and--"

A bright flash of light comes from the window. The earth shakes, and you nearly fall out of your chair.

After gathering yourself for a moment, you rush to the window and look outside, only to see a pillar of smoke bellowing from one of the city's skyscrapers, a wake of rubble leading away from it and through several blocks. You can't help but stare with widened eyes at it all.

"They were blown East, and with such force!! So this is the secret that the Dark King's weapon holds!"

You hard heard in passing that he was up to something, but you had no idea it was something as devastating as this.

"The Dark King is now chasing after Soaring Spade!" The newscaster turns away from the mic; "We need a better angle, try following--"

Something shoots out from some of the far-off trees, closer than you expected. Is that...?

Quickly, you take your mask off the wall and grab your sack of bones, rushing outside. You see a speck off in the distance, Soaring Spade rushing back to the city with their power of flight. A glint of light comes from the sky nearby them—

Another bright flash. You feel the wind rushing past you this time, but you hold your ground. Soaring Spade slams back into the earth.

The direction they're headed in, at this speed and power... You feel your stomach sink.

Quickly, you rummage through your collection, grabbing enough bones for a small construct. You animate it in your hand, and instruct it to run to the village and warn them. It leaps off of you and scurries off, heeding your commands.

You run in the direction of the battle.

You cannot recall the last time something like this happened here, if there had been anything at all like this before in the first place.

Weaving your way between fallen trees and scattered rocks, you arrive at Soaring Spade's impact site. They look up at you in confusion, groaning as they attempt to sit up.

"Who... who are you supposed to be...?" They ask.

That's right, most A-list heroes haven't heard of anyone below a C before. "They call me the Bone Mage," you answer.

They let out a pained laugh, trying to muster a smile. "You picked that name yourself?"

You simply shrug in response. "It just kind of stuck," you say. Approaching them, you help them up off the ground. You take notice of how they're bleeding and how they clutch at their ribs. Their flashy costume is torn up.

A loud slam resounds nearby, the Dark King making his entrance as dramatically as you remember. His black armor glints in the sunlight, and the great sword—the Helm-splitter—radiates with energy.

"I won't let you get away from me," he says, "not when I'm this close to victory." He twirls the blade in his hands like it weighs nothing.

"You'll never win...!" Soaring Spade spits back. They try taking a step forward, but stumbles; you catch them before you hit the ground.

The Dark King turns his gaze towards you. "You... you must be one of those nobodies I knew, back when I used to be for the light!"

You would feel offended at him not even remembering your name, but that's the least of your concerns right now. "Look, I just need you two to stop for a minute and take this somewhere else at the very least—"

"No!" He shouts. You can hear a helicopter approaching, likely the reporters you were listening to earlier. "This is my fight, and I decide where it takes place!"

Soaring Spade needs medical attention immediately, and you really need them both away from your little village as soon as possible. Your eyes travel to the Helm-splitter.

"Where did you even get that sword, anyways?" You ask.

"Oh, this?" He says, lifting up the blade to display it to you. "I forged it myself, the process a thousand years old, the weapon itself imbued with magic! Isn't it such a work of art?"

You can't help but glare at him. He likely found methods scouring around the ruins of an old cult that worshipped one of your fellow gods. The weapon itself isn't godly, thankfully—weapons can only attain that status and power if they're made by a god themself—but the method to create it was probably derived from it. The hero in your arms would not survive another direct blow from it, and the village you protect would be obliterated.

You gently set down Soaring Spade. "What... what are you doing?!" They ask you with concern in their eyes.

"Don't worry about me," you tell them. You place your sack of bones on the ground, as well—you're probably going to need both hands for this.

The Dark King laughs at you. "Ha! You're going to challenge me? Someone as simple as yourself should be thinking of your own skin instead."

"I'm not," you say, straightening out your back. "I told you to leave, and you refused. I will defend this place."

"Then die for it!" He yells. Raising Helm-splitter above his head, he rushes at you, and brings it down.

You catch it in your hands.

The force and weight of it makes your knees buckle and it cuts holes in the palms of your gloves, but you hold it in place. Your eyes glow through the holes of your mask.

"Wh... what?!" The Dark King gasps, bewilderment in his tone.

You push the blade away from you, forcing him back. He looks down at the blade, and back up at you. "That's impossible..." he mumbles. "You shouldn't... you couldn't...!"

"You really need to learn about the people you decide to fight," you say, taking off your gloves. "You could never pick your battles."

"No mere mortal could stop the blade, not even the person who forged it themselves!"

"That's too bad." You stomp your feet on the ground as you leap into a casting stance, your collection of bones flying out of the sack and swirling around you.

A large construct forms, and rushes towards the Dark King. He raises his sword, spending out an arc of energy towards it in an effort to defend himself. The bones scatter, but quickly reform the beast's body.

This isn't anything special, just something to buy you time. You remove your gloves—you might as well, since your hands are already showing through the holes—and assemble a two-pronged spear in your hands.

You reach out to puppet the construct; it shifts into a serpentine form and begins to coil around the Dark King, who holds his sword so that he may attempt to strike its head.

He holds still for a moment too long, and you throw your weapon.

Your aim is straight and true, and it catches him by his waist. The strength you throw it with carries him through the trees, cutting through the wood effortlessly. A shockwave of air blows against you like a storm, and you look to Soaring Spade to check on them as it rushes past you. Their eyes are simply transfixed on where the Dark King once stood, frozen in absolute shock.

When the wind settles, you command your construct again, this time so that you may stand upon it. It brings you the whole distance to the struck-down villain, slithering and snaking it's away across the ruined trees and boulders.

Upon arriving, it deforms back into its miscellaneous parts, hovering around you. The spear you threw keeps the Dark King pinned to the ground; he looks up at you with fear in his eyes. You pick up the sword that sits just out of his reach.

"What... are you...?" He struggles to get out.

"I'm nobody special, honestly," you say, adjusting Helm-splitter in your grip. "I'm just a D-list hero who wants to protect their village, nothing more."

Focusing your energy, you channel your power through your hands and into the blade. You hasten it's decay, rust eating away at it and growing across its body like ivy—the power that courses through it crackles and sparks. After a moment, you snap it in two without much effort. The energy that once radiated from it dissipates instantly, and you drop it to the ground.

The Dark King stares at the now useless piece of metal with widened eyes, before shooting up to look at your rotten hands. "You... you can't..."

"I can't what?" You say, walking towards them. "Cant do that? Can't beat you?"

"You can't be..."

You crouch down next to them, holding your face close to theirs. "I can't be human?"

He cowers.

You can't help but laugh. "What would give you that idea?" Looking up, you still see the news helicopter from earlier flying overhead; you give them a small wave. "I told you to leave, so I'm making you leave. I'd rather not be bothered again on a nice morning like this."

You stand up, leaving the Dark King pinned to the ground. The police will come in and arrest him shortly, even if you're a bit far from the city right now.

It's... tempting to go all-out on him right now. You could decay more, you could decay him, but you'd rather not with all these eyes on you. Your domain is powerful, but you are also merciful.

Something begins to rush towards you, and you hear the wind it causes before it shows up. Turning, you see Soaring Spade making their way over. They begin to tumble a little, and you prepare to catch them; thankfully, they stick the landing by your side.

"You're really in no state to fly right now," you say.

"I'll be fine, I've had worse injuries before," they try and reassure you, but you have a feeling they're lying. They look at the Dark King, their expression unreadable. "I'm impressed you beat him so fast! You sure you're just some nobody?"

You shrug. "I'd prefer to keep it that way, honestly..."

"Well, suit yourself! If you want to, I can send in a good word for the agency that sponsors me."

"No, really, I'm good." You can't help but appreciate their generosity, though.

They look towards your hands, eyes widening. "Are you okay...?" They ask, gesturing at your rotting body.

You hide your hands behind your back. "It's just... a side effect of how I got my powers."

"Ah, I see. Happens to the best of us, I suppose." The look off into the distance, before turning back to you. "You said you're the Bone Mage, right?"

You simply nod.

"Cool! I'll keep you in mind if I'm ever in the area, since you seem like a nice guy. I bet whoever you're protecting must adore you."

You smile. "I guess you could say that."

You are a literal god who pretends to be a d-list superhero. You’ve grown extremely attached to the people of the village you protect. You get news that an epic battle is taking place near your village and would most likely destroy it…

[todoscript]

loyalty

character: todoroki shouto.

warnings: suggestive language. a woman tries coming onto your man.

author’s note: was vibing with this with my girls the other night but might as well put the vibes on here too because we know that once shouto’s in love with you, he won’t ever betray that love

todoroki shouto

to cut to the chase, the very moment he realizes other women—whether they be heroes, news reporters, office workers, fans, etc.—start flirting with him his dick just goes limp.

soft, flaccid, not even the wind can get that thing to move

these ladies could go through the most tasteless ways, vying for his attention, like revealing clothing or unnecessary touching. still, he always gives them the bare minimum interaction, not so much as sparing a glance in their direction when he knows they’re just desperate to get in his pants.

he’s incredibly blunt and cold, and definitely isn’t shy about shoving them off when they get way too close, it’s pretty damn intimidating.

after all, we know how rude he can be when his patience gets tested.

they can go all they want at wasting his time, trying so desperately to garner his favor but as soon as you walk into the room, that’s a whole other story.

to those that only know him professionally, it’s staggering how quickly he softens up and goes starry-eyed for you.

a complete 180. like is this really the same man that nearly freezes nasty villains to death?

you can practically feel the devotion and adoration lighting in his eyes, all directed toward you. it’s only a matter of time before those ladies all give up.

they end up walking out of his agency with loud contempt in their heels at their utter humiliation.

- - - - -

Her nefarious attempts at wooing Shouto so far have all been fruitless, the wispy, exaggerated tone of her voice sounding like static every time it abandons her puckered lips. Grainy, annoying white noise. Shouto grimaces when he hears it, catching onto the game she’s trying to play.

His guest—a sidekick coming in place of her boss—circles the desk in his office, where the two were reviewing a plan devised to thwart a troublesome gang of villains. For any inessential reason, she’s checking her nails and tucking away stray strands of hair as if preparing herself for an interview—making herself presentable. Her hums threaten the silence, and he has a foreboding that these plans they’re going over are in a distant corner of her mind.

Now, Shouto more than realizes he’s an exceptionally desired man. He’s had his fair share of interviews and newspaper headlines depicting him as “the hot yet cool pro dominating the hero scene”. It didn’t take long for him to acknowledge the slew of admirers that came with his reputation and good looks. Some of which he’s had the displeasure of dealing with quite often nowadays.

Shouto sighs quietly. There comes a time when these “fans” come onto him too strongly that it becomes a hassle. Especially when they cross boundaries he has so critically established.

“C’mon, Shouto,” she muses freely, and the white and red-haired hero begins regretting the fact he took his own name as his hero alias. “Going over these plans is so boring, don’t you think? Why don’t we blow this joint and say… go out for lunch together, hmm?” She hits her shot again. There’s suggestion hidden in her faux naïveté, her act inflated by her fluttering eyelashes as Shouto turns to her.

Crossing his arms, his lips set into a frown. “You’re here for work, not to hang around and act like we’re friends,” he says firmly, piling bricks and binding them together with mortar to implant a wall he prays will drive off her desperation so he can finish this meeting quickly. The sidekick, however, seems determined to tear down these barriers as if the pro has issued an unspoken challenge. Her lips smothered in gloss upturn into a smirk.

“Aw, you’re no fun,” she teases, hoisting herself onto the table next to the array of papers sprawled in front of him. She makes a point at crossing her legs, hoping he hooks onto the bait of her enticing display. To her dismay, Shouto doesn’t even blink, finding the material written on the papers more interesting.

Eyes widening, she questions the hero’s tenacity in disbelief. Her confidence stumbles amidst his lack of interest. She bites the inside of her cheek, pouting. Time for drastic measures.

Shimmying closer to Shouto, she leans forward, giving her voice a better path to intrude his ears with light whispers. “Don’t tell me you’ve been grumpy as if late because you haven’t had anyone to sleep with…” she taunts suggestively, glinting at how the hero’s muscles flex at her statement and assumes she’s finally pushed his buttons.

Oh yeah, she’s pushed some buttons alright. Little does she realize they’re all the wrong ones.

Diving brazenly into a torrent, the sidekick lifts a hand toward Shouto’s arm. “Y’know, I would gladly help you fix that if you let me—” Her words are thrown off, brought to an abrupt halt by him gripping her wrist.

The sudden tense, chilly air has the sidekick shivering at both the coldness and apprehension at what is in store for her.

“I’m sure you know by now that I’m taken,” Shouto emphasizes his words with a steely look in his mismatched eyes that nudge in the direction of your photo framed on his desk, your joyful yet spiritless expression unknowingly witnessing this woman’s acts on your man. She gulps, aware it is her own fault for choosing to ignore your picture and still have the audacity to try and have her ways with him. How despicable. Now she has to face the consequences.

Shouto cruelly shoves her hand from his grasp, his expression so sharp it almost pierces like daggers.

“So I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to pursue a man that obviously has no interest in you before I tell your boss that their sleazy sidekick can’t stay in line and perform her duties.”

[bugsy-maria]

Chat Noir x Reader Part 2

I didn't bother to fight back, it was almost like Chat telling me that he hated me drained me of all of the energy I had and more. I saw as the Akuma delicately landed on my collar. the collar never was a part of the main costume but instead, it was added by me because I liked the look of it.

the Akuma vanished and Hawk Moth's voice filled my head.

"Dark Fang, I am hawkmoth. I will grant you the power to make the world that had wronged you countless times your own playground."

I felt the clothing that I wore disappear into new tight clothing. my tube top turned into a strapless bra with a ribcage design.  a corset pinched my sides gently and was blended into a short puffy black skirt. I had no shoes only thigh-high socks. and my hair was no longer long and puffy but instead a short bob. the leather band of the collar was turned into just a string that held a now white metal disk with the name, 'Togo' engraved on the back. I touched my hair, feeling a different sensation on my scalp, there were now soft ears atop my hair.

it was now that I took in what Hawkmoth said. "the world that had wronged you countless times" he was right. I was nothing but good to other people and all I got was nothing. the world took my family away from me, the world took Chat away from me, the world made me who I am but the world hates who I am.

I stand up, rain and hail falling harder that it starts to break car windows. the world needs to start over again to fix what has been down. people have ruined the world, humans have stained the world with the worst things imaginable. everyone except Adrien. Adrien did no wrong. he doesn't deserve to be punished. I swiftly make my way to Adrien's home. jumping up to a long-forgotten open window. I run through the halls till I reach Adrien's all too familiar door.

I open it to see him with his hands tangled in his blonde locks as he sat at his desk.

"Adrien," I spoke up, causing him to shoot up from his original position at his desk.

"Togo? what are you doing here?"

"I'm not Togo, I'm Dark Fang now."

"You're akumatized?!" his eyes widened.

"Mmmm." I hummed taking my seat at his bed. "And you know what? it's you're fault." I smiled at him.

"What did I do?"

"You told me to tell that guy that I loved him," I paused to stare at the scared look on his face. "He hates me now, he said that he loves Ladybug too much." I got on all fours on his bed and crawled my way over to him, causing him to back up.

"(Y/N)!?" he pushed the chair in front of him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Adrien, I'm going to save you."

"I don't need to be saved by a villain." his voice now stern.

"But we could watch the world go back the way it was before!" I started to get angry at him, my voice getting rougher. I mean why would he rather die with all these people who do wrong, than come and stay safe with me.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Fine, hope you have fun drowning Adrien." I unemotionally said. I blew harsh winds so strong that they broke windows all over the world. rain rushed into the room as I jumped out of his room and onto a nearby building. I watched it from the Montparnasse Tower. thunder was now heard everywhere, and the only source of light for this half of the earth. I sat and watched as the world flooded below me.

I stuck out my hand in front of me and grew a single intense red rose out of it. I picked the flower from my palm and rolled it in between my fingertips.

"Togo! You need to stop this!" I heard Ladybug shout. I increased the wind at her, blowing her off the tower.

"Togo! Don't take it out on her!" I heard Chat shout at me, and his feet running after Ladybug. I looked at the rose then at the now flooded city below me. the rain stops as the sun comes out, the sun evaporates the water below us. the heat is ineffective to me, but when I look at LAdybug and Chat Noir I see that they are sweating so much that they could barely walk at a normal pace.

I raise my hand at them and flick cool air in their direction, I kept the air blowing at them to keep them from dying. they were the only friends I had, even if they did hate me.

"Why are you helping us?" Ladybug asked, swinging her Yo-yo ready to attack in case I did. her lucky charm long forgotten in the corner of the rooftop.

"You are my only friends left, thought we could share this new world."

"We aren't your friends anymore." I looked at Ladybug, then at the chat. his face showed that of regret. he must have known that he was the reason for this right?

"When I don't need you here anymore," venom leaked off of my words. I clenched my fist tight, taking the air away from her. her hands flew up to her neck, her yo-yo falling to the ground. I quickly used my wind to blow it to me. the sounds of her choking on her blood filling lungs were getting annoying but I knew it wouldn't be long before those sounds would stop.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!" I heard Chat scream his lungs out, he quickly caught Ladybug's head when she fell. I saw the tears fall down his face. the love of my life was crying over the death of another girl. the love of my life was crying over the death of another girl because of me. I caused those tears. I'm the reason for his pain. the pain he put me through, I am now putting him through.

suddenly I stopped seeing the world in black and white, the good and bad. I saw what I saw before, shades of grey. I had managed to fight off the Akuma with my feeling, I felt tears falling on my face upon seeing chat noir cry and Ladybug dead. the only friends I had besides Adrian and Marinette. I knew I wouldn't have much time left, but I couldn't break my Akuma because then it would go to Chat. I had to try the lucky charm.

I looked in my hand with my blurry vision, it was her yo-yo. I used the yo-yo to try and grab the lucky charm that lays on the other side of the building, I knew I didn't have the time to walk across. the lucky charm got to me. I could only pray that it would work for me too. Ladybug and I both have the power of creation after all.

"Stop! You'll never-" he cut himself off once he saw me. once he saw how broken I was, how I was showing emotion, and how the tears that spilled from my eyes and onto my cheeks were genuine.

"Pray that it works." I stared into his eyes and I knew that once I said that and once he saw the lucky charm in my hands he knew what I was talking about. "My collar, Lucky charm!" I shouted, throwing the object into the air. I saw ladybugs shoot out. the mess I made disappearing.

Black and White.

I saw as ladybugs repaired the beginnings of the new beginning.

"Cataclysm!" I heard from behind me, I turned around to see Chat holding out his hand. he reached out and before I could move he caught my collar. I fell to the ground, suddenly feeling dizzy, while I watched my clothing slowly disappear and turn back to what it was before. I looked around me to see Ladybug and Chat staring at me.

"I'm so sorry, and I know that no matter how much I say it nothing will get any better." my voice was shaky and broke during the sentence.

"It's ok Togo." Ladybug kneeled in front of me.

"Don't call me that, I don't deserve it," I said, standing up, keeping my head hung low.

"Then what do you want us to call you?" I heard Chat say from in front of me.

"You won't be calling me anything kitty." I smiled up at him, "besides I have to go now. Meet you guys at our spot? regular time?" I asked hopefully. they nodded and I fell from the building. my wind gently carrying me down to the ground. I ran to an alley.

"Balto, stop running," I mumbled lowly. I walked back to my flat near the Eiffel Tower. I quickly grabbed the box that my miraculous came in. "Goodbye friend." I smiled at Balto. a gray wolf kwamii. I slid the bracelet off my wrist and placed it in the box. I left my home, making my way to the spot we always met at, with no intention of meeting them.

~~~~~~~~~~

the walk home felt like decades. I tread up the stairs of the building I lived in. I took out my keys and unlocked my door. I turned on the lights to my empty home. I walked over to my room, wanting nothing more than to sleep.

I pushed open my bedroom door, the lights still on from when I left. but this time something was different. there was an all too familiar black kitty in my room, rummaging around my desk drawers.

"Kitty?" I clearly didn't think of my words carefully.

"Ahh!" his head quickly shot up as he pushed the drawer closed. "Togo, there you are."

"I told you to stop calling me that." I slumped on my bed still facing him. "And how do you know who I am!?" my eyes widened once the situation dawned upon me.

"A little birdy told me who you were." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyway, brought something of yours." he sat at my desk chair, placing the box I just got rid of on my desk.

"I returned it."

"And I'm returning it."

"I don't want it."

"Why not?" we were glaring into each other's eyes.

"Did you not see what happened today?"

"We all have those days."

"No one has this kind of day. I was weak and vulnerable. I killed Ladybug!"

"Dark Fang killed Ladybug."

"I am Dark Fang! and it's not like either of you guys want me to be on your team anymore anyway. You hate me and I'm not your guys' friend anymore."

"I didn't mean that." he walked over to me, taking a seat next to me on my bed.

"Sure seemed like you did."

"I was just angry that you were right is all. Ladybug doesn't like me back but I still keep trying no matter how little hope I had. I just hated that you always had that hope, you never once had a bad day. at least that's what I thought."

"it's always been Ladybug and Chat noir. there was never room for me."

"I do like the sound of Chat noir and his two ladies." he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, the touch setting flames to my skin. "Don't you?"

"Only if I can be your only lady," I replied cockily.

"Sure, but would you love me because I'm your best friend or because I'm Chat Noir?"

Tags:

@laic2299 @aproudfangirl13

[vintage-writes]

Yes I’m Mad, You Broke my Leg (Tomura Shigaraki x Reader)

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are currently undercover at U.A High School as Aizawa’s teaching assistant. One day on a field trip with Class 1A the League of Villains shows up and you now have to pretend that you’re definitely not in love with the leader. Of Course, Maybe you took it a tad too far. >-<

Warnings: None, Fluff. Slight bit of Angst but otherwise it’s just a pouty Shigaraki..

Word Count: 2 057

_________________________________________________

“Shigaraki is dead ahead moving into the back alley. Y/n, I need you to cut them off,” Aizawa’s voice echoes in your ear. “I’ll handle Kurogiri.”

Your feet continuously pound against the stone floor. You pass several run down buildings as you sprint down the deserted streets. The League of Villains recently attacked an old hospital currently experimenting on quirk enhancement. Seeing as the U.A. students were conveniently nearby, the Saturday school trip has turned into yet another effort to finally get a hold of Tomura Shigaraki, head of the League of Villains. Because God forbid, we actually do something normal for a change.

As Aizawa’s newest teaching assistant, that he reluctantly agreed to, you were now careening around corners on foot to catch up to him and cut him off from behind while Aizawa took chase from the front. So far, you just wish you had stayed home.

As you make your way around the final corner you run into the man himself. His cotton blue hair billowing behind him, his cloak flapping around in the wind. His trademark hands are currently in place blocking your view of his handsome face.

“Hello Villain”, you say.

He says nothing in response, simply tilting his head at you.

“I’ve been ordered to stop you here”, despite not being able to see his face you can tell by his body language, he isn’t pleased with the idea. “Why don’t we have some fun.”

“Let’s not”

You quickly slip the knife waiting in your belt into your right hand. Using your quirk you block off all the exits except for the one in the direction of Aizawa. You lunge forward and swipe your knife at him but he jumps backwards in time to avoid the edge. You swipe again, he dodges again, and like this you proceed to dance around another with jabs and slashes. Despite his size and lowered visibility, he is able to move rather smoothly.

Again, you decide to emit your quirk to land a blow on him which he narrowly avoids. However this time, as he dodges away he latches all five fingers onto a column supporting a nearby building. His quirk manifests at an alarming rate and eats away at the majority of the column before swiftly shifting over to eat away at the bricks and chipping paint of the building itself.

“Wait! NO!” You lunge forward intent on stopping him, knife discarded. The area didn't have any time to be evacuated, therefore, many people were still residing in the houses. If the building collapsed, it could definitely take a life or two.

Surprised by your sudden cry, he jumps away from the wall. Between the fingers, you can see his eyes have widened considerably. Before you had any time to say or do anything that could potentially explain the sudden outburst, you hear Aizawa’s voice shouting from behind.

“Y/n, get him now!”

Right. Remain focused.

You turn back to the task at hand only to freeze. Rushing towards you at an alarming rate was Shigaraki, hand outstretched, aimed at your face. On pure and absolute instinct, you drop down into a crouch before swinging your left leg around to connect with the corner of his knee. The blow lands with a sickening crunch and he immediately drops like a sack of potatoes as you roll out of the way. Adrenaline thrumming through your veins as you roll onto your feet again, turning to face Shigaraki. He’s lying on his side, hand fallen beside him and face in full view. Shigaraki’s face twists in pain as he lets out a strangled cry. However, this time,  Kurogiri sits beside him and without wasting time, the two disappear. 

“Dammit!” Aizawa says as he rocks up beside you. “Nice job though, that will definitely throw a wrench in their plans.”

You look up at Aizawa, confusion written all over your face.

He chuckles softly, “Nice job on breaking his leg, it’ll give the heroes a chance to breathe and track them down.” Aizawa begins to walk away and motions for you to follow so that you can meet up with the students. However you remain frozen in place as realisation begins to set in. Guilt immediately floods over you. You broke Shiggy’s leg. You gave him a clean break to HIS LEG. You wander after Aizawa in a daze. Meeting up with the students feels like a nightmare as each one compliments you on a job well done. It doesn’t feel like a good job. You plaster on a realistic smile as you pretend to revel in the glory. It’s an incredibly strange feeling to be praised for doing something you really didn’t want to do.

You’re never going to hear the end of this.

___________________

Three agonising days pass before you’re allowed off campus. You send in a request with Principle Nezu and he allows you to stay off campus on Friday night for your ‘Mom’s birthday’. Aizawa gives you papers to mark and sends you off with a pat on the head and a request to remain safe. 

“I doubt Shigaraki’s allies will be too pleased with you, stay out of the spotlight.”

You gave him your thanks before leaving campus. Now you stand in front of a rundown warehouse, cake in hand, mentally preparing yourself for the shit you’re about to get into. God can only prepare you for the amount of petty, pouty rage, Shiggy’s about to send your way. You move forward and slowly open the door. It swings open on its hinges anyway, screaming into the open space. On the musty couch sits Dabi and Toga watching some god awful American drama.

Dabi looks up and with a teasing smile and proclaims, “Would you look at that. It’s the hero.”

“Shut up, Dabi”

“Oh, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n”, he tuts. “I feel like maybe you should be a little nicer, especially with the mood he’s in right now.”

“Don’t you think I know that”, you hiss back, holding up the cake tin.

“You think Cake is going to fix this?”

You pause before softly mumbling a tired ‘maybe’. Dabi bursts out laughing while you throw a venomous look at him.

“Oooohh, no need to be like that, or are you going to break my leg now too-- ow!” He shouts out, rubbing his head. Toga raises her arm again, TV remote in hand. A warning written all over her face. 

“He’s in the back Y/n”, she says. She offers a smile, hand still raised. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

You thank her and send Dabi another mean look as you duck around the corner, striding towards the back room. As you reach the door you release a breath before entering.

Shigaraki sits on the couch, head in his hand as he watches the news. Surprisingly enough he’s staring intently at the sports channel. He’s avoiding you, you realise. You walk in on soft feet to stand in front of the couch. You place the cake on the coffee table. You decide to be straightforward and address the elephant in the room.

“Hey Baby, how’s the leg”, you say gently.

“Hi Darling,” he starts off, “It’s fine.”

Darling, he says. That one’s new.

“Are you mad?” you whisper. He finally meets your eyes. Crimson eyes burning with heat.

“Why would I be mad? It’s not like you broke my leg”, he says, gravelly.

“Baby, I promise you, it wasn’t on purpose. You caught me off guard. I barely even knew what I was doing, it was all on instinct”, You start off desperately. “I swear, it will never happen again. Aizawa just caught me off guard.”

His eyes fixate on you. He’s studying you thoroughly, doubt swirling in his eyes. His calm face remind you of someone in mourning. He leans forward, hands interlace, elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t look at you again. Instead, he stares into the spot above the TV. Ideas turning behind red eyes. You feel your heart drop. Does he no longer trust you? Is this the end of the relationship? You’ve always known Shiggy’s trust was difficult to earn but you never thought it would be lost, especially not like this.

“Do you not trust me?” he asks at last.

You still. Do you not trust him? That’s ridiculous. Of course you trust him. You’d lay down your life for this man. For the opportunity for him to be happy, to burn the world down that betrayed him. To cripple a society that is unequal and cruel.

However, the scene plays back in your mind, the sight of his hand moving towards your face. His pinky tucked beneath it, only the thumb and forefinger truly posing as some form of a threat. Granted the only reason you had done what you did, had more to do with an object coming towards your face then a lack of trust in him.

You kneel down in front of him and rest on your knees. You remain on the side of his good leg, eye-level with him.

You reach forward and grasp his interlaced hands, unlocking them and entwining your own within his gloved fingers. Slowly you lift each hand up and place a kiss on the knuckles.

“I love you so much, of course I trust you.” You say gently. “This will never happen again.”

He smiles and then proceeds to lift up your hands in order to place kisses on your knuckles. Sincerity pooling in his eyes.

“I love you too. Please be safe.”

You send him a wink, “Always, and one really good thing came from this. The Pro’s trust me a whole lot more now.”

His smile drops suddenly and so does your heart. Maybe that came out wrong.

“I’m still in a lot of pain”, he says, looking away with a pout, “I’m still mad.”

You climb onto the couch next to him and place a kiss on his cheek before whispering, “I brought cake.” You beam up at him and he lets out the softest little chuckle.

“What kind of cake?”

You giggle.

“Chocolate, Delicious Chocolate.”

“Alright, I’ll eat the cake and then see if I’m still mad.”

You let out a laugh before kissing him full on the lips. Slightly chapped as his lips are, they’re still soft to the touch. He places a hand on your cheek and deepens the kiss, groaning. Warmth spreads over your body as you feel at peace.  Wrapping his arms around you, you fall into him. The worrying for the past few days suddenly feels silly now as his gentle heat engulfs you.

You pull away breathless. Eyes like plated Mars, stare into your own. His beauty is stealing away all reasoning. Taking away the very air of your lungs.

“Cake?” you ask, a blush spread across your cheeks.

He nods back, “Cake.”

You reach over for the Cake tin and hand it to him before reaching down again for the spoons. As you turn back you see that he’s already opened the tin, a card sits in his hand as he stares down at both, a look of confusion written all over his face. 

Oh Yeah, that’s what you forgot to do. He looks at the card, then at you before lifting the cake out of the tin and displaying it for you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the card has been placed aside. Without looking at it you already know what it says. 

A quick note to “Enjoy the precious time spent with family” signed by Principal Nezu.

“Babe”, he says “Why does this cake say ‘Happy Birthday Mrs (L/n)’”

You Throw him a sheepish smile.

“Happy Birthday, Mom”

_______________________________

A/N: There is nothing anyone can say to convince me Nezu wouldn’t do this.

[toxicjayhoe]

We don’t have to dance

Explicit

Shinso / Reader(OC)

M / F

Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot

I mean there's some plot in my head but y'all don't get to see that haha

Cunnilingus

Blow Jobs

Hitoshi is a good boy

he asks for consent

Brainwashing

Oral Sex

Vaginal Sex

Unprotected Sex

Aged-Up Character(s) obviously

Light Dom/sub

Choking

Ahegao

Smut

He glanced across the overcrowded room, observing acquaintances and strangers as they socialized and sipped their drinks, swaying to the beat of the music. The open space of the hero office had been rearranged as to accommodate as many individuals as possible for this year’s Christmas celebration.

Shinso had never really been the type who partied, but he thought it was important to attend, if only for appearances sake. As a new Pro-hero, he believed it was a necessity to demonstrate he was a team player.

He took a mouthful of his cider, feeling it burn down his throat as he swallowed the effervescent drink. He never really drank either, but he enjoyed a nice glass every once in a while.

The couch he rested on was quite comfortable, he thought to himself as he settled back into it. He was more than content in just sitting here all evening until he believed it was acceptable to leave. He wasn’t interested in idle conversation about the weather or whatever these people were gossiping about to one another.

However, the universe had other plans for him it seemed, as Denki quickly approached him, shots in hand.

“Hey bestie, down this and let’s go get some ladies.” The blond handed the liquor towards him, urging him to take it, waggling his eyebrows and winking.

Shinso sighed, ignoring the offending alcohol currently being offered to him. “What ladies, Denki? We are at the bottom of the food chain here.”

“My dude, it’s a Christmas office party. Have you never seen a movie in your life? Things always get spicy at Christmas office parties.” He cackled, downing one of the shots and throwing the empty cup behind him. He pulled another from behind his back.

The purple haired man made a face, before chuckling quietly. “Where did that one come from?!”

Denki shrugged, shoving the two shots into Shinso’s hands. He rolled his purple eyes, giving in to maybe the only true friend he had.

He brought them to his lips, one after the other, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and placing the empty receptacles on the table by him. Of course Denki had chosen peppermint schnapps.

“I’m only going to be your wingman, and only because you could really use the support.” He said with a bored tone to his voice as he pushed himself up from the sofa. Denki whooped enthusiastically, rushing off to where Shinso could only assume the ladies were.

He unhurriedly trailed after him, making his way between the gatherings of individuals, being vigilant as to not come into contact with anyone as he passed them. He wasn’t fond of strangers to start, much less being touched by them in any way.

He was terrific at communicating when he was obligated to, which was merely when he was required to use his Quirk. He still had issues with it and, even now, citizens still told him it was better suited for a villain, but he’d come to terms with not being able to please everyone. As long as he did a respectable job as a pro-hero and protecting the populace, then he would be happy.

Once he finally made it beyond the crowd and to where Denki had run off to, said man was being rejected by yet another woman.

Jaw clenched as not to show any suggestion of a smirk, he clapped the blond on the back in sympathy.

“You’re aiming way too high, Denki. And you try too hard.” He said simply, unsure if it was the right thing to say or not. Nonetheless, the shorter man smiled up at him, seemingly undeterred by yet another loss.

“Let’s go play foosball!” Denki hollered, forcing him in the direction of the tabletop game, stealing two additional beverages as a waiter walked by them.

They played a few rounds, one versus the other. Shinso loathed to admit it, but he had struggled to keep up with the innate talent Denki appeared to have at the game.

Just as he began to genuinely start enjoying his night, Denki sprinted off, declaring he needed to piss. Shinso took the moment alone to survey his surroundings once more, taking in the sight of people’s inhibitions all but forgotten as alcohol started influencing their behaviors. He took another sip of his own drink, finishing it in one gulp.

If he was being honest with himself, he was also starting to feel the affects drinking had on his body and on his mind.

He leaned onto the wall behind him, arms crossed on his chest as Denki came into sight, marching towards him, arms intertwined with the two women at his sides.

One of them he recognized as Jiro, whom he was relatively convinced Denki had a major crush on. The other, however, he could not recall ever having the pleasure of meeting.

“Shinso, don’t be rude, say hi!” He rolled his eyes before nodding silently at them both. “Good enough. Okay! Me and Jiro against the two of you. Let’s do this.”

/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*

Shinso was sure Denki had let him win for some odd reason his mind could not fathom.

As the two of them argued over why they lost the game, he cleared his throat, offering his hand to the shorter woman by his side

“I’m Shinso. Hitoshi Shinso. It’s nice to make your acquaintance”

She smiled, giving him a firm handshake.

“I know who you are, Brainwashing Hero.” His eyes widened, astonished anyone, let alone an alluring young woman, would know who he was. Was she not frightened of his quirk like everyone else had been? “My name is Aruna Ai.”

He heard himself hum before the words spilled from his mouth like word vomit.

“The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished.” He finished, taking a deep breath after such a long-winded sentence.

“Did you just quote Deng Ming-Doa’s Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony at me?” Aruna stared at Shinso, brows furrowed as her lips quirked up.

His hand found the back of his neck as heat rose to his cheeks in mortification, unable to look directly at her.

“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from, heh.” He continued to look everywhere but her, feeling crushingly stupid. Aruna chuckled, placing the palm of her hand on his muscular arm and squeezing.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m already a fan.” An overwhelming sense of calm overtook him then, like something paranormal was causing him to relax.

“What’s your quirk?” He blurted. He scratched his skull, once again mortified that he seemed to not have a filter tonight.

She squeezed his arm again before dropping her hand to her side, smiling brightly up at him.

“Well aren’t you just the most perceptive man?” She crammed her hand into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the heels of her shoes, seemingly deep in thought.

He patiently watched her.

“I can manifest emotions in others if I have direct skin contact with them. My power varies depending on the cycle of the moon though.”

He felt his eyebrow arch in curiosity. It was sort of similar to his own quirk, when he thought about it.

“That is truly fascinating, Aruna.”

She huffed and laughed. “Not as fascinating as being able to brainwash someone. I wonder what it feels like.”

“Care to find out?” He couldn’t believe the words leaving his own mouth.

“I would love to.” No hesitation in her voice, only a slight blush stained her cheeks.

His eyes narrowed as he stared into hers. “Are you sure?” His voice low.

She rolled her eyes “Of course I’m sure, Shin-“ Her eyes glazed over as her mind went blank.

“Follow me.” Came the command.

Although she had no control over her own movements, her mind was still aware enough to realise what was happening.

She was led across the crowds and through the halls. He silently guided her into an unoccupied office, small cots lined up on the walls.

He released his hold on her mind, allowing her a moment to turn around and leave, if she so chose.

His gaze never left her face, eyes concentrated on the way her cheeks darkened. Mortified, no doubt.

They remained standing, unmoving for long moments. Hesitation welled in him for a second, unsure of himself. Aruna’s breathing came out in a sigh as she strode forward, toward him in quick steps. When she reached him, her hands grasped his clothed shoulders as she pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes, raising her lips to meet his in a sweet kiss.

Purple eyes widened at the unexpected contact.

“I just… wanted to do that of my own accord first.” She whispered as she stepped back, breathing heavier than moments before, smile on her lips.

“You look at me like you think I’m someone else.” He said simply.

Her eyes narrowed, a look he could not read painting her features.

“How do I say this… We don’t have to talk, and we don’t have to dance around it, we don’t even have to be friends. I’m attracted to you…I want you to brainwash me. And…” She paused as Shinso slowly approached her.

Eyes peered into hers, pupils dilated. “And?”

“And… I want you to use me as you wis-“ Her mouth hung open, no words coming out as Shinso gained control once again. If she could smirk, she would have.

“Come here.” Her feet pulled her to where he was now sat on one of the cots.

Large hands grasped hers. The softness of her fingers in comparison to his own, rough and calloused, felt like heaven.

Shinso had never done anything like this before and the thrill of it all made blood rush through his entire body, his heart hammering in his chest.

He looked up into her blank eyes, dick twitching against his slacks at the sight of her. He couldn’t wait to see her ruined by him.

He couldn’t get enough of her soft skin, gliding his fingers up her arm and to her neck while the other hand drifted lower, reaching under her dress.

A devilish smirk formed on his face when his fingers tightened around her throat, a soft gasp leaving her mouth.

Hiking her dress up, he dug his fingers into her hip, pulling Aruna closer, lowering his head to kiss just above his tight grip.

Teeth grazed against her skin, eliciting soft moans from above as he nipped and kissed and sucked, marking her. He hoped the resulting bruises would last weeks, reminding her of tonight.

Despite that most thought that, while under the influence of his quirk, his victims couldn’t remember what they’d done under Shinso’s control, it all depended if he wanted them to remember or not.

He most definitely wanted Aruna to remember tonight, needed her to feel and see everything he would do to her and have her do to him.

“Spread your legs.”

A hum left his lips as she did what she was told, legs far enough apart for his face to fit nicely between soft thighs.

“Good girl.” He whispered, looking up into those blank eyes, her pupils now dilated, a look of lust filling them.

He kept his gaze fixated on hers as he released her neck, hand gliding to her breast, squeezing it gently. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of her body. Her soft curves and her even softer skin. The breathy moans that left her lips at every new sensation.

Perhaps she was the one ruining him.

Both hands were on her hips, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties, dragging them down her legs and around her feet. He placed them in his pant pocket. They were his now.

As he pressed his nose to her, he inhaled deeply, a groan ripping through his throat. Absolute heaven, the scent of her driving him crazy with need.

His tongue met her folds, licking up to her clit before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. He felt her knees go weak, the only thing holding her up straight now were his strong hands at her hips.

She tasted absolutely amazing. Shinso’s eyes squeezed shut as he devoured her. He was sure his fingers were leaving bruises. He hoped they were.

Leaving her pussy for air was torture, but he could feel his control over her slipping as he got lost in the taste of her.

“I’m going to let go of your hips now. Don’t fall.”

He wiped his chin of her juices with the back of his hand, tongue darting out to gather the droplets on his lips. He pressed his palm down onto his cock, needing some kind of touch to release the pressure building inside him.

Nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, releasing his cock from its confines. Aruna glanced down, eyes lidded.

Her own tongue slipped from her mouth, licking her lips at the sight of him slowly stroking his cock, tired eyes locked on hers.

“Come taste me.” The commanding tone sent noticeable shivers down her spine, clearly trembling where she stood.

She could feel herself resisting the request, his control wavering as pleasure began to overtake his senses.

“ Obey me.” Aruna’s knees hit the floor, palms resting on his thighs as she positioned her mouth over him.

One calloused hand cupped her cheek, guiding her lower, the other gripping the base of his cock.

The sound that rumbled through his chest was unholy as she took as much of him into her warm mouth as she possibly could, hallowing her cheeks the instant the head hit the back of her throat.

“F-fuck. Aruna” His fingers fisted into her hair, staring down at her as drool dribbled down her chin. He gently pushed her down on his cock, face fucking her softly. He didn’t want to hurt her, but fuck if her wet tongue across the underside of his dick didn’t feel like paradise.

She moaned around him as he thrust into her mouth, sending delightful vibrations through him, dick twitching in her mouth. He was losing control. He could feel it.

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and- he was sure it would be the end of him. This girl. How did he get so fucking lucky?

Aruna’s fingers dug into his thighs as she came up for air, his quirk weak enough from the pleasure to break out of it.

His eyes widened as she quickly rose to her feet, pushing his chest down as she settled onto his lap, sitting on his cock, sinking down on it in one swift movement.

Strong hands grasped her hips once more, furiously fucking up into her. Every moan from her lips sent heat through him.

“You like that, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse and husky.

“Y-yes. Hah. You feel so good, Hitosh-“ Her pussy tightened around him, losing herself to his control once more.

“Silly girl. Stick your tongue out for me, and don’t stop fucking yourself on my cock.”

Her eyes blank again, tongue sticking out, drooling down her face. It was absolutely stunning. So fucking beautiful, and it was all for him. He had never seen anything so breathtaking.

He stared into her face, bringing his thumb to her clit, gently pressing circles into it and watched as she shuddered, grinding on him harder, breaths coming out unevenly, whimpers escaping her lips every time he bottomed out in her.

“You’re so beautiful. Aruna. Fuck. The way I fit inside you, like we were meant to be like this.”

The words left his mouth, any shame he might have felt discarded, pleasure overwhelming his every sense. She looked amazing, tasted amazing, smelt amazing. She was perfect.

He grasped her throat again, other hand on her ass as he met her thrust for thrust. She was close, he could feel it in the way her walls clenched around him, in the way her eyes crossed, tongue still lolling from her delicious little mouth.

“Come for me, my lovely moon. “

She stilled above him, walls clenching tight one more time as her insides fluttered around him, sending him over the edge, cock spurting deep inside her, a growl leaving his throat, fingers tightening painfully around her neck.

She collapsed against his chest as he released control over her, breathing heavily in the crook of his neck as he gently caressed her back and played with her hair, calming her as she came down from her orgasm.

Shinso adjusted her dress to cover her body. His heart felt full for what seemed like the first time in his life.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Aruna.”

He felt her smile against his neck.

There was no point in saving the world if it meant losing the moon.

Art by Me

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Trapped

Word Count: 3.2k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Oikawa/Reader.

Synopsis: Oikawa isn’t the first stalker you’ve caught the interest of, and you really, really didn’t think he’d be the last. Now that you’re in trapped in his arms permanently, you’re forced to make the best of his smothering obsession. 

TW: Non-Con, F. Reader, Non-Consensual Touching, Overstimulation, Bondage, Knife-Play, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Stalking, Imprisonment, Gaslighting, Mindbreak, Flashbacks and Implied PSTD.

Part One.

It'd always been the adrenaline, for you.

You liked the danger, too, and the satisfaction of knowing you’d beat a stalker at their own game. You liked being able to smile as you crushed a hidden camera under your heel, to laugh as you lost the poorly-disguised ‘stranger’ in a festering crowd, to feel utterly, entirely contented as you pictured Oikawa’s expression while he watched you rip another one of his hand-written, stumbling, rambling letters into shreds after reading the first nonsensical line. The rush was the best part, though. The frayed nerves, the blurry vision, the way your heart threatened to give out every time you woke up somewhere you didn’t remember falling asleep, a rope wrapped sloppily around your wrists and your own panties shoved in your mouth because someone hadn’t thought to buy a gag before you started screaming. It was fun. There wasn’t a better way to say it. It was fun.

It’d been fun back then, too. But, that’d been different. You’d gotten out in time. You’d assume Oikawa would be as easy to read as he was, and that was your mistake. You thought you had more time. If you were being honest, you were starting to think Oikawa’d gotten predictable. You were starting to think he’d gotten boring.

Huh.

It makes you sound like the creep, when you put it like that.

There was nothing exciting about laying on a bare mattress, stripped of your clothes and weapons and dignity, blindfolded and restrained as your captor, your actual captor, did something on the other side of the basement, assessing the small amount of damage you’d caused before you were caught and captured in earnest. You hadn’t fought back, not really, not after you realized you wouldn’t be able to escape without breaking down the door. 

You’d been in a stupor, but now that your pulse was beginning to slow and the panic was slowly turning into solidified, gnawing terror, you were starting to regret reacting so calmly. You thought he’d go easier on you, if you went along peacefully. You were used to the lead-up. You weren’t sure what to do, now that you were working out the aftermath.

You were in Oikawa’s territory, now, his fantasy.

All you could do was bite your tongue and hope he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.

But, that didn’t mean you could stop yourself from flinching when you heard him take a step towards you, the noise jarring compared to the quiet tension you’d adjusted to. There was a light chuckle, breathy and non-committal, punctuated by a gentle, sympathetic hum as he crouched by your side, the sound of skin scraping against concrete and a subtle dip in the mattress underneath you serving as your only hint at his position. He didn’t touch you, not at first, but it might’ve been better if he had. At least then, you wouldn’t have to wait for it. If he lashed out, you wouldn’t have to spend so long wondering where he was going to strike first. “I’ve been dreaming about this, cutie,” He stated, the words almost a sigh. Contented, fulfilled. As if he might let you go again, just to see how good it’d feel to snatch you back up. “You kept me waiting for forever, you know that. Wanna guess how long?”

You thought it was rhetorical. This was his long-winded, villainous monologue, and you were the damsel in distress, forced to listen. Your assumption was corrected with a flick to your forehead, the gesture playful, but still startling enough to make you recoil. “Answer when I ask a question, brat.”

You remembered the day, but not the date. He’d tried to get your number in a bar, then when you politely declined, he’d tried to slip something into your drink and you’d splashed it over his chest, staining the nicest shirt you’d ever seen. You’d been so proud of yourself, you’d let yourself buy coffee from the most expensive shop in town every morning for the next week. “Seven months?” You guessed, your voice coming out meeker than you meant for it to be. “I... I’m not really sure.”

Another laugh, this one punctuated by a tap to your cheek. “You really don’t think much of me, huh? Can’t say I’m not offended, (Y/n).” There was a slight lull, and when he went on, his tone dropped, lowering just enough for the change to be noticeable. Just enough to make his touch seem dangerous, as he took you by the jaw. “Two years. We’ve been playing this game for two fucking years, and apparently, you didn’t even notice. It would’ve been one thing if you rejected me, but I don’t like being ignored. I spent so much time watching, so much time nudging you in the right direction, but you’ve always been the oblivious type, haven’t you?” There was another sigh, this one labored, heavy. Tired, but not as regretful as it should’ve been. “Oblivious and energetic. But, we’ll plenty of time to take care of that together, won’t we?”

It was a numb sort of shock. A realization you should’ve seen coming, an injury that phased through your skin and struck your chest without a buffer to cushion the blow. “Bastard,” You spat, before you could think better of it. It was more frustration than anything - hot, overwhelming frustration. Suddenly, you wish he’d been kind enough to gag you, too. You wouldn’t be able to make things worse for yourself, that way. “You were following me for years, and your first move was to drug me? You must be even crazier than I thought--”

He was gracious enough not to let you dig your own grave any deeper. Without warning, two fingers forced themselves into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you lurch forward, only for Oikawa to catch your shoulder. “We’ll have to work on that too, but don’t worry.”

He paused, leaning forward, pressing a kiss into your forehead, one so light and so sweet, you could almost ignore the bared teeth, lingering underneath it.

“Your boyfriend’s gonna take care of everything, from now on.”

~

It was a small mercy that he’d gotten rid of the mattress.

He must’ve gotten tired of it, of giving you the luxury of being able to squirm and lean away from his touch and pull at the tether he’d repurposed when you got too brave, for his taste. Its replacement had been simple - a wooden chair, metal fetters keeping your wrists bond to its arms and your ankles to its legs. You’d say you didn’t see the point in the latter pair, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore Oikawa’s intentions, this far into your captivity.

You’d tried biting at him. You’d tried worming your way out of your restraints and finding weak-points in your shackles and, the few times you’d been able to, attacking him out-right, but Oikawa was an Olympic athlete and you were sore and stiff and drained, and there was nothing you could do to stop him as he draped himself over your shoulders, a knife in one hand and the other preoccupied, playing with your pussy and getting a little more impatient every time you growled or shrunk into yourself or gave him an exuse to do something reckless and heartless. It was humiliating. It was risky, moreso than it had to be. It was…

It wasn’t your last admirer would’ve done. Not while you knew him. Not before you left. Not before he became one of two hellish options.

“Still awake, angel?” It was more of a purr than a question, finished off by a tilt of his blade, the sharpened edge pressing into the flesh of your throat. A rational, logical part of you knew he’d never do it. If he wanted to kill you, he’d already had plenty of time to, and while Oikawa was a pervert and a kidnapper and a psychopath, he didn’t seem like the type to get his hands that dirty. Part of you knew that, a part of you was so sure of that, but that sensible minority seemed to grow fainter every time his thumb prodded at your clit, pushing messy circles around the sensitive nub, every time lithe fingers traced over your slit, collecting slick and playing with the idea of fucking genuinely fucking into you. Playing with it, just playing with it. Touching you enough to make your mind fog over and tears form in the corner of your eyes, but not enough to let you forget where you were or, more troublingly, who was touching you. “I don’t know how far I can push you, after this morning,” He went on, casually. “I mean, when you passed out, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I never thought you’d have anything against blood.”

Blood. That reminded you of something, something older than the open wounds still littered over your hips and spotted across your back. A broken nose, an ex-boyfriend complaining about your ‘over-protective friend’. Dirty alleys and pieces of glass. Bloody knuckles, scraped and raw, but not Oikawa’s.

The blindfold was gone, but you clenched your eyes shut regardless. You didn’t want to think about that. Oikawa’s sadism was easier to lean into, in comparison, more welcoming, although not nearly as hospitable as the dark, repressed recesses of your mind. It wasn’t like he would’ve let you drift off, anyway. The moment he noticed your attention start to shift, two digits were forced through your tight entrance, making you jerk forward just enough for his blade to draw a thin, red line in your throat, warm blood just beginning to drip from the corners by the time he pulled away. It didn’t hurt. Hell, it barely stung, but suddenly, your heart was racing, your pulse beating in your ears, and Oikawa’s laugh ringing out like chapel bells on the morning of an execution.

It wasn’t adrenaline. It wasn’t panic suppressed by practicality. The only thing you felt in that moment was white, hot fear. For your safety, your well-being, your life. For all the things Oikawa could so easily take away, if he wanted to.

He was just as merciless in this facet as he was in any other, chasing after his own entertainment rather than your satisfaction. He didn’t try to hide it, either. You could feel his smirk bite into your scalp as he pushed a fleeting, affectionate kiss into the top of your head, as he curled his fingers and spread them apart, giving your aching cunt everything it’d been dying for. It was cruel, really, how you could barely buck your hips, every little movement only putting you closer to his knife, to the thing that could end you with a slip of his wrist or a switch in his mood, but there wasn’t anything you could do. You were beginning to think that was what Oikawa wanted. To push you into a defeatist mindset. To prove that trying to resist was useless, now that he’d gained the upper hand. To make you see that he’d already won, and he wasn’t going to indulge you with a second round.

There wasn’t anything you could do. Not anymore.

You’d already lost.

~

The first time he fucked you, it’d been in his own bed.

Or, you think it was his bed, at least. He’d taken you out of the basement the same afternoon, and when you didn’t try to run the first time he turned his back, he’d nodded approvingly and cuffed your wrists to his headboard as a well-earned precaution. There was a jersey mounted on the wall with colors you didn’t recognize, but it wasn’t like you’d ever been his biggest fan. Gold and silver trophies were arranged half-hazardly along a shelf on the far wall, but he might’ve just liked to show off. He liked to show off. Above all things, you knew he loved to show off.

That was why he’d waited so long, until you could barely think and your whole body ached and you’d been willing to do anything to sleep in a real bed, rather than on a cement floor with little more than ropes and chains for company. You really couldn’t think, could you? You’d been focused on the ceiling since he first forced himself into you, your cunt already wet from too much foreplay and too little pay off, but even that was blurry, now, a blend of beige and white with nothing to interrupt it. Oikawa was talking again, but you didn’t want to listen. You couldn’t be sure of how long you’d been here, but it was long enough to know things were easier, when you didn’t listen to him.

A few words made it through the haze, though, once your gaze drifted to his face and you saw his lips moving. “So pretty,” He muttered, his voice low, just quiet enough not to be affected by the way he thrust into you, measured and erratic, at the same time. There was a spark of pain in your hips, strain in your thighs, and you realized he was holding your legs, one thrown over his shoulder and a thigh pressed into his side, his nails biting into your skin. It hurt, but in a distant sort of way. The pain was cold, like a knife cutting dead meat. Something that elicited a feeling similar enough to be recognized, but missed the mark and landed somewhere alien, instead. “My pretty little girl, my stubborn sweetheart, mine,” He went on, almost incoherently. He didn’t think you were listening, and to his credit, you really wished you weren’t. “Mine, mine, mine. Perfect and beautiful and mine.”

His hips slotted against yours, his cock hitting something soft and spongy inside of you, and you couldn’t seem to smother the shudder that worked its way through your body, that dull electricity that had your nerves standing on-edge, your back arching, a pitch whine snaking out of your throat that would’ve been painful to swallow down. It was less of a reaction and more of an impulse, something you were too worn-down to fight off, but Oikawa’s lazy grin still widened as he leaned down, nipping at your jugular. “Like that?” He asked, the words nearly muffled by your skin. “Does she wanna be mine?”

You didn’t deny it. You didn’t have time to try. His lips were on yours before your could, the collision sudden and messy and harsh. You pulled at your restraints, but Oikawa’s only response was to groan against your mouth, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek, to clamp down around your jaw and hold you in place as he raked his tongue over yours. It was the first time he’d kissed you, beyond chaste pecks and bites that spoke more to his bloodlust than his fondness.

It was the first time he’d kissed you, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, you could hardly bring yourself to think about Oikawa. All you could do was remember the last time someone had kissed you like this.

All you could do was remember him.

It was a flood of information, too much to process at once. The house you grew up in, back in Japan, and a boy sitting on your bed with pretty eyes and a stern scowl and the lightest blush painted across his pale skin. How he’d tasted, the way he’d way he kissed you - shyly but fiercely, like you were the only thing that mattered to him, the only thing he was willing to dig his nails into and keep. The phone calls at midnight, the afternoons you spent on the bleacher’s of your high school’s gym, the friends that avoided you and the arm that was constantly wrapped around your waist, holding you just tightly enough to make breathing a little harder than it should’ve been.

The ring he’d tried to give you, after graduation, the one you’d never gotten a chance to wear. How he pushed his bangs away from his face as he tried to shove his way into your apartment, yours, not the one you’d shared with him and fled from, the first time he'd lost his temper. The restraining order that never stopped him, and the feeling of his hands around your neck, everything. Everything you’d tried to think of as an accomplishment. Everything you wanted so badly to think you were in control of, even as you bought a plane ticket and packed your bags and ran, just to get away from it. Everything you’d been stupid enough to think you could avoid, with Oikawa.

You couldn’t be sure when you started crying, but you must’ve. There was a cracked sob before you started talking, and then something you could only barely recognize as your own voice. “Tobio,” You gasped, flinching into yourself. There weren’t tears, but your eyes were wide, burning. You didn’t want Kageyama to touch you. Someone was touching you, and you didn’t want Kageyama to touch you. “Please, Tobio, it hurts, it-- I can’t-- I can’t breath--”

Finally, Oikawa stilled, pulling back just enough for his confused expression to be visible. He didn’t try to hide it, bewilderment mixing with offense before he put the pieces together, before uncertainty turned to realization and realization turned to anger. He didn’t hit you, but for a moment, you thought he was going to. It looked like he wanted to, but he didn’t.

Just as quickly, his features softened, and he broke out into a wide, forgiving smile. As if you’d only ever imagined his frown.

His next kiss was gentle, barely a shadow of his first. Soothing, in a way. It might’ve been comforting, if you weren’t so distraught. “Why didn’t you say something, angel?” It was a question, but he didn’t bother waiting for an answer. You were almost relieved. You probably wouldn’t have known what to say. “If I’d known you were scared of big, bad Tobio all this time, I would’ve done something. He’s so mean, isn’t he? Did he put his hands on you?” There was a hint of resentment in his tone, but it was easily lost under the faux empathy, the sweetness. So layered on, you might’ve believed it was genuine. You could’ve, if you tried to. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore, not while I’m here.”

“I don’t…” You tried to respond, it was a weak attempt. Now, the tears came, but Oikawa didn’t seem to have a problem brushing them away, cooing as he swiped his thumb over your cheek. “You won’t--”

“I want to keep you safe,” He corrected, before you could convince yourself he didn’t. “From Tobio, from everyone. And you’re gonna let me, aren’t you, princess?”

You wanted to feel safe. You wanted so desperately to feel safe. Running away from Kageyama hadn’t worked, not when it just led you to Oikawa, and it’d been so pointless to act like you were ever in control. You wanted to be protected. You wanted to be safe, and Oikawa seemed so sure of himself, as he started to fuck into you again, his pace considerstate and his touch loving. So loving, it was easy to think he might actually love you. More than Kageyama did, anyway, towards the end.

Maybe you would let him.

Maybe you’d try, just to see what it was like.

[alysa-i-can-too]

Cute but Evil / Blind but Middle / and you got Man but Fat Part. 1

[MHA: Fatgum the BMI Hero!] [Two young ladies, well not too young. =>= But both have business that has to deal with him] [Also a little baby Devil but is teacher, and the cousin to the Middle she coughs rocks out.] *cough* *cough*...ENJOY!

In the world of quirks and all, could be probably a real hassle if you know how to properly work with it. You got the people who know when or where to stay out of trouble. You got your heroes, your villains and that one person to let's say she goes by Middle.

No one really knows her from Japan, but only a few. In America she is kind of widely known there. Because her own quirk is Hair Stretch, yeah just normal long white hair while the outline of it is light blue, but she can really stretch it as much as she wants.

Anyway let's get to her scene shall we. [Into a city *zoom!*]

On top of a not too high building, it was day light just beautiful sunny day, which can be hot for Middle that is laying down on the ground groaning of the heat that is sweating her body.

[I might as well get a heat stroke and get done with this pain.] Middle said to herself while tugging on her white hair.

She then stretches her hair up in the air and starts to feel air blow on her face and hair. She sighs in relief while then hearing a ring from her phone.

She makes a poker face and grabs her phone from her pant pockets. She starts hearing the phone ring saying who is calling her 'B.G. is calling!' 'B.G. is calling!' 'B.G. is calling!'

She blinks while then answering the call.

[Hola, what you want?] Middle says while sounding bothered.

[Do not Hola me, you are not even Mexican Medium, you dare say my ancestors tradition words, you shall get the cinnamon beating of your life!] The voice from the other phone sounding so cute, that sounds like from a little girl.

Middle then got a disturbed face on her, hearing her real name say out loud on the phone.

[OK, fine. Anyway what you want, I'm kind of waiting for something.] Middle says while picking on one of her shark teeths.

[Well if I must...I REALLY NEED TO GET TO JAPAN MIDDLE!!! I NEED THAT BIG MAN TO BE MY RIVAL! MY HERO! MY ARCH NEMESIS!!! I'M A VILLAIN FOR GOODNESS SAKE!!!] The girl yelled loud on the phone, making Middle ears ring screeching of the sudden yelling.

[Then why don’t you! Stop yelling on the phone!] Middle yells back while rubbing in her ear in pain a bit.

Then there was just silence in the air, that Middle got confused on her girl on the other side went quiet.

Until she felt the wind went hard fast making her almost slide off the building roof. But she used her hair to quickly wrap around a pole that was strapped on the building roof. She held on tightly, until the wind went back to normal. Which she breathes of so much air went too much in her lungs.

She crawls back onto her feet, and felt a tap on her leg.

[OK I'm here now. Or shall I say 'I am Here!'] The girl said that was just on the phone with Middle is now here next to her.

[Uuuuuh, ok? But don't come crying if you get caught Alysa.] Middle said while crossing over the small figure and went to the edge of the building. She breathes in and closes her eyes, then opens them.

Alysa smirks widely cutely and grabs from her bag some goggles while taking off her glasses, and put the goggles on her face.

[Let's do this.] Middle said and lets herself fall off.

Middle then stretches her hair long enough and wips it to a light pole and swung to it's direction but not to hit it of course, swinging around above the city road.

Alysa chuckles cutely of the awesome falling while she tightens her backpack on her, then jumps off the building.

Her hands glowed red with her feet and it then all of a sudden made the wind get strong again and push her like she is flying, but flying with the wind.

[Now this is my style of flight!] Alysa yells happily and makes the wind get stronger making her zoom around like a air force jet.

Middle rolls her head of feeling the wind around her.

[Keep your side of flying away from my swinging, it's now I'm realizing. I'm like spider-man mix with rapunzel, but I'm much better because my other name is Middle. Other than Medium Heart. Like pfft, who needs a name that says Medium.] Middle says now getting nervous on what she's saying to herself, making her lose focus on her swinging, that lead her swinging too close to the ground.

Making other people scream or get out of the way from her. Until she bumped into something that is very large body but squishy.

Alysa eyes widened and slowly zooms behind a big octopus store. Which was a takoyaki store.

Middle muffles and falls off the thing that she slam herself on and lands on the ground on her butt.

[Ouch, fudge my butt.] She says wanting to scratch it but it would be awkward since she knows in daylight a lot of people will be around and see her not to miss she just crashed down onto whoever she crashed into.

She then got up and wipe the dirt that she felt on her, like those little rocks on sidewalks.

[Medium?] A man voice said, making Middle screech on hearing her real name.

She slowly turns around and didn't see anything....did I forget to mention she's blind, like no vision only sees white.

[Uh, no speak English only Español.] Middle says awkwardly while standing there sweating a lot now nervous.

[Medium, it's easy to know it's you. You don't even speak Spanish. Also the eyes and hair, also the teeth gives it all away. It's me Taishiro.] The man says giving his name to her, sounding happy.

Middle screeches even more inside of now knowing who this man she bumped into.

[Mind: What is the chances I bump into someone that could of been anyone else into this whole city! Like why!?! World you owe me big time!] Middle yells in her mind while outside of her mind she kept quiet awkwardly still.

[Um, Medium?] Taishiro calls to her while slowly putting his big hand on her head.

Which triggered her and her hair stretches fast and slaps Taishiro away having him hit a Takoyaki, which she didn't knew that.

[Fatgum!] Red Riot yells to him, one of Fatgums interns.

[Don't. Touch. Me.] Middle says mad.

Alysa peaks from the octopus and she smiles widely evilly cute.

Suneater also the other intern of Fatgum made one of his arms to octopus and uses it to restraint Middle.

Middle feeling she couldn't pull her arms out.

[Wait!] Fatgum yells to Suneater. [She's not dangerous, she's just...her as always.] He said kind of sounding sad.

Middle kicks her feet around growling on wanting to get out of this octopus arm.

[You have any idea who you are touching!] Middle yells at Suneater.

Her hair then stretches again and zooms around Suneater head and covers it for him not to breath.

Making him let go of her, having her the chance to throw him away and she runs off.

[Suneater!] Fatgum yells and runs to him.

[Hey! Oh no you don't! Come back and apologize!] Red Riot yells and went after Middle.

[Suneater! Come on! Please open those eyes!] Fatgum says in a panick shaking him a little.

Suneater groans while then slowly opening one of his eyes.

[I should've went home today.] He said kind of weak, but is able to sit up.

[Well not now the time to say that, but we got to get to Kirishima fast. He might get hurt from her.] Fatgum said while lifting Suneater up and putting him in his fat. [Fataxi coming through!] He yells and starts running.

[What is the thing between you two? You sound like you know her.] Suneater says to Fatgum, while relaxing for awhile.

[Well it's a long story, but I use to know her since high school. I was her eyes when she couldn't know we're to go. She was something else, she was the girl that every student in the school knows as the hair dancer.] Fatgum says while seeing cars being flung at Red.

[Hair dancer?] Suneater says confused, until Fatgum took him out of his fat and stood him up.

[Yep, she either ballad, ice skate, or even a talent competition. She always has her hair shine on the spotlight the most.] Fatgum seeing Middle rise up from her hair and crushes a car into a bakl and throws it at Kirishima.

[Hey! That's not nice to throw things at people!] Red yells at Middle while dodging the car ball.

Middle then makes a 'oh' face.

[You're right, I should not...Oh B.G.! Your time has come, I'll leave it to you!] Middle yells while then stretching her hair far off into some building and swings herself away.

Red, Fat, and Suneater confused on who Middle called.

Until a strong wind blowed the destroyed cars away making the road and sidewalks clean again. While you see Alysa floating slowly down, landing perfectly and safely.

She took her goggles off and put her normal glasses back on, while taking out a microphone and taps on it.

[Yay! I get to finally take my chance on being the only villain to Fatgum!] Alysa yells happily to the microphone. [Also call me your B.G. stands for big girl. Time to play.~]

[Ah takoyaki.] Fatgum says while knowing he might need to fight.

____________________

Wasn't that fun. One blind girl and the other a villain cutesy. Wonder will happen in part.2

[she-is-destroyer-of-worlds]

“Never let them tell you you’re not magic”

Okay so I’ve been trying to figure out some of the more complex uniting threads between Wayward Son and Any Way the Wind Blows (and even with Carry On) and all the stuff with the NowNext vampires and Smith Smith-Richards and the thing is, it’s all about magic! It’s all about what magic means and who deserves to wield it and what to do with that power! This is also what the Mage was all about! And by the time we get to Smith-Richards as a sort-of villain, it’s not about the direct physical threat he poses, but it’s more about the ideological issues he raises about magic and belonging. For so many people drawn to him, they want to be more powerful at magic because they feel like they don’t belong! And Smith-Richard’s whole thing preys upon that, with the intention that yeah, your magic is everything and that’s the only thing that counts. 

But that’s the exact question that Simon and his friends have been grappling with, particularly with Simon re-thinking his relationship to magic going from being *so powerful* to literally having no magic and trying to figure out where to fit into this world where magic is literally everything and feeling like he never belonged in the first place. And polar opposite side, Shepard is like, the perfect foil to this because this is a guy who has literally no magic but lives such a thrilling life full of magic because he’s realized that this world isn’t just a black and white, magic or no magic situation! He found his own magic and adventures! But he also found danger and owes his firstborn to so many creatures!

This makes AWTWB (with a lot of what WS set up) have such a rich story then of all these different characters figuring out where they fit into this world of magic without fitting into the traditional roles they’re expected to. Simon lost his magic and has always been used by magic so he feels like he was never magic at all, Agatha associates magic with her own trauma and a lack of autonomy, Baz loves magic but being a vampire puts him at odds with the World of Mages, Penelope uses magic for everything but is realizing that it can’t fix everything, and Shepard doesn't have magic but does everything he can to find his place amidst magic. And the way these stories get their hints of resolution at the end is just SO PERFECT because it’s like, all of them know they have a place in this world and together, and that they get to be exactly who they are.

I have so much more to say on this but here’s the start of it anyway. I just really love this series and AWTWB!!!

[shoutogepi]

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears.  Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body. 

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Earn Your Title’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: i cannot help myself- i’m sorry lmao i hope you all enjoy

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, spanking, light bondage, cumplay, dirty talk, dom/sub tactics (kinda)

Summary: It’s difficult being the sidekick to the infamous pro hero Ground Zero, it’s even harder trying not to speak back to him.

Word Count: 2.7k

masterlist

“He could’ve gotten away idiot!” Bakugou snapped, veins pulsing from his neck as he slammed his fists on his desk making it wobble.

“It’s this stupid capture support item you made me get!” You retaliated, holding the long, ropey net-like substance up to shake it in his face as if he hadn’t seen it fail in over 5 missions now.

“Well then learn to fucking use it!” His words seethed with anger, the two of you only barely managed to catch the villain because of their own mistakes. When you finally got appointed to be a sidekick you were excited but after dealing with Ground Zero for the past month has been detrimental to your patience, it was like the man never calmed down.

“It’s completely incompatible with my quirk! It’s like if your gauntlets were actually water pistols!” You weren’t backing down this time, you knew you were right, you knew he just wanted to fight to blow off steam after the difficult heist.

“Then learn dipshit.” Bakugou’s volume lowered, but his tone seethed with pique. “Heroes have to make exceptions. You just don’t know how to use it. Earn your title of a hero by being better, now get out of my office.”

Your brows furrowed so far that you felt like you were going to tear your skin in half. Begrudgingly you picked up the support item and headed for the door but Bakugou’s voice stopped you as you tugged the door open in a huff.

“You’re staying late tonight. We’re training.” His voice left no thought for a disagreeing answer, so you didn’t answer at all. Merely slamming the door and heading over to your locker to change out of your hero suit which you were convinced was giving off steam just from how full of wrath you were.

Stupid boss. Stupid capture thingy-majig. Your brain screamed in your head, throwing your clothes haphazardly into the metal locker. Just because you were a sidekick didn’t mean he had to treat you like shit, though you had heard from other heroes that he was usually a short-tempered hot head all of the time. Why’d you have to get stuck with him?

Now clad in a tank top and some leggings to train in, you reluctantly pulled your tangle capture item out from your pile of clothes. You really could not be bothered with having to use this thing again. It was almost like it never listened to you.

You ran the fabric through your fingers, although it looked and felt like a bunch of fine hairs, it was actually a net that when thrown correctly could wrap around things easily to tie villains down. But with your quirk ‘wind flurry’ allowing you to direct wind currents with your eyes and fingers it was difficult to focus where you could direct gusts and where you threw the net. Practically impossible.

Sighing, you wrapped it around your knuckles and slamming your locker door shut with force you didn’t even realise you had been storing up. Walking nonchalantly to the training gym inside Ground Zero’s agency.

“You’re late.” You heard a grumble next to the door as you entered the room startling you a little. Bakugou leaned against the wall, a black tank clung to his chest leaving nothing to your imagination, but your thoughts about being pissed off at him quickly wavered that away.

“Actually, you didn’t set a time.” You composed yourself from the small startle, walking away from him whilst swinging the support item around in a circle. Just as you began to spin the net faster with your quirk, Bakugou’s hand abruptly stopped it moving.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone.” He groused, taking the item from you to inspect more closely. Within a split second he had whipped it along to hit the furthest back wall with a small explosion erupting from his palm to help it go further. It tied easily around some gym equipment before another explosion from rupturing down the fabric helped it untie and zip back into his hand.

“Your problem is multitasking, you’ve got to learn how to let it move with your quirk it was designed that way.” Bakugou mutters, thrusting the item back into your chest that you barely have a chance to catch as it’s tail end whips you in the side of your cheek.

“And how do I do that?” You scoff.

“You practise.” Bakugou once again leans against the wall, arms folded and watching you with a careful eye. “Show me how you use it.”

You roll your eyes when you turn away from him, taking the pose that he did before he immediately stopped you.

“That’s how I did it to work with my quirk, show me how you do it.” His voice was pressing, obviously tired of you trying to get this over and done with when it needs work.

Taking a deep breath, you make your usual stance and activate your quirk and whip the item… and the fine hairs of it flail around in the wind. You slump your body in defeat and turn around to Bakugou.

“See? I told you.”

Bakugou shakes his head and steps behind you, with his chest flush to your back you can feel his breath upon your skin and it almost gives you chills. His course fingers direct your arms in a way that you would usually use your quirk but never with the item.

“Now look-“ He places his head on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you can’t help a small gasp escape your lips as you watch him tentatively. “You have a clear view of where it’s going. Try and get it on that pole there.”

He moves his head away and you can’t help but miss the contact of his hair on your skin, but he doesn’t move from behind you. He uses his large palms to help your shoulders relax and they fall down your back as he helps you stand.

“Act like it’s an extension of your quirk, now try.”

You focus your eye on the pole and use the capture item, flowing freely with your quirk before latching onto the pole. It was less abrupt than how Bakugou used it, probably because his quirk was so much more abrupt from yours, but you hear an amused grunt from him before you flick it back and into your hand.

“Not bad, needs work but you’re getting there.” His voice was still it’s usually gruff self but at least he was smiling for once. You turn to face him and he glances down at you, a smirk clad on his face.

“Didn’t think you were the one for dishing out compliments Bakugou.” You mock, the fine hairs of the support item drifting through your fingers as you spun it around.

“And I thought I told you to watch your fucking mouth.” He barked. Bakugou lifted a finger to your chin, almost closing your mouth to stop a retort. Without even knowing it he’d already snagged the piece from your hands and lowered his arm so he could hold it at his hip.

“You know I don’t know how the hell you think you’re gonna be a hero if you can’t respect the actual ones.” His smirk was menacing, and you could only try to whimper out a response before you felt the crack of the net slap against your ass, eliciting a yelp from you.

“S’what I thought.” The way he shuffled closer to you, making you step back until your back hit against a cable cross, the cold contact of the metal a shock to your now hot skin.

“I told you baby- you’re gonna have to earn that title.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a sneer, terrifying you but you also couldn’t help but feel the warmth against your legs that you tightened your thighs to not think about.

“Bakugou-“ You begin to speak but his fingers slip between your lips, holding your mouth open as he smacks your rear again with the net.

“I think it’s Ground Zero to you, Y/N.” The way he said your name was like it was a slur, not worthy enough to be titled to your hero name.

Drawing his fingers out of your mouth he ensnared both of your wrists, allowing the support net to tie them together before letting it tangle around the upper bar of the cable cross. Your feet were barely touching the ground, Bakugou sauntered over to you like a predator watching his prey, you could tell that he was trying not to at least lick his lips.

Bakugou’s chuckles at your desperation which rumble throughout his chest. He strides closer to you, easily lifting your body to stop the strain on your arms as your legs wrap neatly around his waist. He leans in for a kiss which you gladly follow through with before he teasingly moves back, a smug grin dawning on his face before he dives in to kiss you.

His grip around you wasn’t forceful, or angry; it was filled with lust that translated from his lips to yours. Bakugou grazed his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for entrance and when you didn’t give way, he bucked his hips into your clothed core- drawing a sweet moan from you and a chance for him to allow his tongue to explore your mouth.

“Ba- Ground Zero please.” You stutter in between the hot kisses, your hands gripping desperately to your binds as you wished to tug his hair in fistfuls.

“What was that little girl? You’re gonna have to use your words if you want to become a hero.” Bakugou trailed his mouth down your neck as he spoke, his hot breath tugging your neck closer to his lips for any sort of touch.

“I need you- please touch me I need it so bad.” Your whines made his fingers grip the sides of your waist, knowing that he wanted you badly too.

“I’ve gone so fucking long watching you parade about in that so called skimpy hero suit.” Bakugou lifts your shirt off and tears it at the arm holes. Thank god it was provided by the company. “Hearing you dare to talk back to me. God- I wanted to punish you so fucking bad every time you opened that filthy mouth of yours.”

He follows suit and takes his own shirt off, his abs glistening with sweat pressing against your stomach so sweetly it gives you butterflies.

“I’m going to ruin you- make you sorry for any time you talked back to me, you got that?” His mouth was right next to your ear, making your jaw tremble at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Yes-“ You whimper out before hearing a small crackle and the loud smack as his hand makes contact with your ass.

“Yes what?” He presses, the warmth of his hand raring to smack you once again.

“Yes Ground Zero!” You screams out, the noise reverberating against each wall of the empty gym.

“Better.” He steps back only to pull your leggings and panties down to your ankles, allowing himself to slip between your legs so that you’re completely tied around him. Not that you’d change that as holding him close felt right and took the sweet pain away from your arms.

“So fuckin’ perfect, just like I knew it’d be.” He presses the pads of his fingers down your heat, he watched as your face merely contorted in pleasure at the feeling of him touching you there.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll beg for training after work every day.” Bakugou’s face was plastered with an illustrious smirk, watching as his two fingers dipped in and out of you completely glistening with your wetness.

“Ngh- I need you Ground Zero shit-.” You could barely make a cohesive sentence as his thick fingers slowly moved themselves against the spongey part of your cunt. It wasn’t enough, you were begging to feel full.

“Good girl.” Bakugou praised before lowering his sweats and boxers. His cock already leaking with precum just looking at the sight of you, all pretty and helpless for him to ravish. You’d give anything to just be able to touch him and lick all of it off of his cock.

Bakugou rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your slick to ready himself. He began with small strokes inside of you before angling himself to fully bottom out. You couldn’t help the silent scream that erupted from your lips as he growled in pleasure at the indecorous noises.

His eyes leaped over your body, taking in every inch of you whining and begging for more and more, his lips jumped to your chest, sucking and biting all of your supple flesh to leave deep purple marks of his desires. You bit your lip but couldn’t stop the moans at the stimulation all over your body. Your arms feel limp as the sensations rang all over the rest of your body.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking beautiful looking so ruined baby.” Bakugou’s hands attempted to ball into fists while still fixated on your hips. You wince in pain but it’s numbed by the vast amount of delectation you were feeling in your stomach.

“I’m-“ You barely begin but he already knows, he can feel it, he can feel every millimetre of you and it’s driving him crazy.

“I know baby- come on my cock like the good girl you are huh?” His cocky tone sent shivers down your spine to the tips of your toes as your climax hit. Your body quaking in his arms. You could feel Bakugou getting closer too, him riding out your euphoria as he reached to gain his. His hips spluttering and the rhythmic beats he once had were long gone as he spurts hot cum inside of you.

It takes a moment before you’re both back to your senses, Bakugou (though out of breath) fixes his sweatpants and stands back between your legs. A chuckle escaping his lips as his fingers push his cum back inside your pussy.

“Suck.” He demands as he raises what was left to your mouth and you happily oblige, your tongue dancing around his digits.

Bakugou then fixes your leggings and lets you down from the support item into his arms, letting you use his tank top as he had ripped yours.

“I still expect you to come into work tomorrow.” Bakugou huffs out what seems to be an almost laugh but you can’t quite tell from your tone, your body too weak to even give a sarcastic, witty retort.

“If training is anything like that then I’ll keep practising.” You whisper, your throat dry as anything after screaming in pleasure for so long.

If that’s how you were going to earn your full hero title, then you weren’t going to give that up.

[amuhseen2003]

SANDERS SIDES KARAOKE: GOTHIC LITERATURE MUSICALS EDITION

Okay, so after four years of being in the Sanders Sides fandom, I’m going to attempt to write some headcanons. Here we go.

Since it’s well-known in fanon that the sides do have karaoke sessions, imagine what would happen if they sang musicals based on gothic literature.

Roman’s happy because broadway, duh, Logan is happy because it’s canon that he enjoys gothic literature since he dressed up as Frankenstein’s monster for Halloween, same reason for Virgil and Patton’s happy that his family is bonding. He made extra cookies for the occasion. He’s dangerous like that. 

(I headcanon that when Thomas had to write analyses of gothic literature novels for school, Virgil, Roman and Logan would work together to come up with stuff and write the best essays in class and Patton would be so proud of them)

I’m not going to count Les Mis because I’m not too sure if that counts as gothic literature and whilst the Hunchback of Notre Dame is indeed gothic (trust me I read that in a plane once. An entire, like, ten pages is dedicated to describing the scenery) I don’t think it became a broadway show.

Now this isn’t like their usual karaoke nights, no sir. Just idly remaining in the living room won’t do. Where is the gusto? The pizazz? The accolade winning extravaganza? The-

“We get it Princey, can you just get on with it?” - Virgil

No, this type of singing can only be accompanied with an atmosphere that will do it justice. To the imagination they go and with Logan’s (who has practically memorised every single one of these books and is not geeking out at all) input on how the novels describe each setting, Roman creates very intricate landscapes for each song.

When they sing ‘Alive’ from ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ Roman thought that it would be really cool for Patton to play Mr Edward Hyde since Hyde is literally the human id and Patton, being the embodiment of morality, is literally the superego (although to be fair, Patton is also shown to be quite childish and impulsive since he’s also the base of Thomas’ emotions and Hyde is impulsive because he’s a way for Jekyll to act on his own emotions - especially since the only crime that Hyde does in the book are him over-reacting with his anger by beating a man to death. And in the novella, Jekyll writes that he and Hyde are like father and son and that Hyde is actually younger than Jekyll is, he does have that sense of childishness that Patton has only instead of that childishness being good and helpful, it’s bad and hurtful. Plus in the soundtrack of Alive, whilst Anthony Warlow does sing about how good being evil feels like, he also sounds like he is crying tears of joy of being able to be himself, the first words post-transformation being freedom and anyways these are supposed to be fun headcanons not analytical headcanons so I digress…)

Anyways Patton is happy to play the villain because “look kiddos, Roman conjured up this really swell cape” “the correct term is cloak” “and check out this top hat and cane!” and he’s just belting out the words and froliking around Victorian London without a care in the world, making his cape swoosh in the wind.

“Patton I would advise you not to take your shoes off. This is nineteenth-century London with people dying of cholera by the dozens, your feet could catch a myriad of infections.”

“Worry not, specs, the scenery is merely an illusion. I would never allow for our dear padre to succumb to the villain of illness”

“Aww, thanks kiddo (cue Patton’s sunshine smile) now where was I? IT’S THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE! FILLED WITH EVIL AND TRULY ALIVE!”

They have Logan sing ‘I Need To Know’ because a doctor of science singing about wanting to expand his knowledge and having that thirst to do whatever it takes to get said knowledge. That is a Logan Sanders song right there. At first he’s like “why do I have to sing. I was happy enough giving directions and helping you with the scenery” but Roman creates this big scientific library that could rival the one from Beauty and the Beast/ laboratory from that’s practically the identical to Jekyll’s lab in the book and he’s like “Fine” like he isn’t enjoying himself. He is. They all know it. He’s not fooling anyone

Patton and Roman sing ‘Bring on the men’ together (yes, whilst wearing dresses) whilst Virgil and Logan drink apple juice from those big british beer glasses in the mind-scape created Red Rat (which Logan is quick to point out doesn’t exist and is vocally upset at how the musical adaptation added unnecessary romantic subplots with Lisa and Lucy when the book itself only had three background female characters who were only there for like one paragraph. He’s even more upset at the other inaccuracies with the book like how in the play Jekyll creates his formula as a cure for mental illness and Hyde was accidental whilst in the book he did it because he wanted to indulge in sin without fearing the consequences and Hyde, whilst not being exactly what he wanted, was actually created on purpose or how in the book Hyde only kills one man and in the musical he kills practically everyone except for the one person he did kill. Virgil pats him on the back with sympathy). Roman and Virgil are sniggering at the sexual euphemisms at the end of the song whilst Patton’s confused. She just seems really enthusiastic about food.

Roman sings both parts of ‘Confrontation’ by himself. He gets a standing ovation.

He also does ‘Transformation’. The problem is that he was so good at sounding like he was in complete agony and near death that they had to stop the song prematurely because Patton was getting upset. Don’t worry, Pat gets lots of cuddles by Roman afterwords.

(You know what I might do some sides reacting to The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde later because 1. It’s my favourite book and 2. All four of them would have very interesting takes on it)

From the Frankenstein musical Virgil plays the criminal from ‘Say Amen’ because he wants to (seriously, the guy’s first words in the song are ‘I curse the day that I was born into a world so black with hate’) and Logan plays Victor Frankenstein but Patton refuses for his son to even pretend to be executed by the noose so they have Roman play a man wearing a british executioner outfit with a foam sword and the creative side just bonks the anxious side on the neck with it. Logan despairs about the historical inaccuracy from his place in the stands whilst Patton is cheering next to him. Patton also hands him an extra jumper to keep him warm in the Switzerland cold. 

“Patton, I am grateful that you are thinking of my health but no one in eighteenth century Switzerland wore bright blue jumpers with cartoon kittens on them”

“Really, Logan, are you paw-sitive?”

“I would like to change places with Virgil. Immediately” 

Roman and Logan turn ‘Birth to my creation’ into a duet because Logan enjoys the scientific aspect of it and Roman can’t resist the drama (of course). He goes all out. He makes Victor’s lab perfect to the smallest detail (and cheers when Logan’s eyes start lighting up and he does that cute clappy thing when he’s excited), he conjures a storm and makes lightning strike at the best moments of the song. He even creates a ‘wretch’ (what Victor calls the monster in the book. I’ve heard that it’s name is Adam but all I remember from the novel is Victor calling himself god and the creature his Adam) to lie on the table. 

“And we didn’t even have to go grave-robbing for it. Or drop out of University.” - Roman

“No matter how many times I wanted to.” - Virgil

Roman and Virgil do most of the songs from Dracula. The creative side creates this huge, expensive-looking window-balcony thing with glass double doors and billowing silk curtains so that he could dramatically sing ‘the longer I live’ whilst the wind blows through his hair and he dramatically drapes himself on the balustrade so that the light from the full moon hits his figure just right. Patton’s close to crying.

Logan is very eager to give as many facts as he can about nineteenth-century mental institutions for ‘The Master’s Song’. He gets really into the history behind certain treatments and different cases. Roman plays Renfield and the others play doctors. 

Virgil is super into Dracula’s castle during ‘Life after life’. He and Roman duet that song wearing all-black. Logan tries to help Patton’s slight fear by telling him the history behind different pieces of architecture.

Patton plays Christine during Phantom of the Opera

Roman, Virgil and Logan sing ‘A story told’ from The Count of Monte Cristo around a circular table in a dimly lit tavern. Patton takes pictures and drinks hot chocolate in the sidelines.

[yaomomvs]

ten duel commandments

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

a/n: listening to 10 duel commandments of hamilton gives me strong angst vibes so yeah. and idk is this is angst or just drama but it’s kinda inspired in the actual manga arc of this huge battle bc i’m in pain. reader’s quirk is basically earth bending like atla jajajaja. also might do a part two. idk

there are ten things you need to know.

number one.

the challenge, demand satisfaction. but not for you clearly, the temperature dropped. the alert rang in al school, another villain attack. this time it was real, this time you know there’s no thing such as flukes or surrender.

hands are shaking, barely managing to put your hero costume in the right way. the clock is ticking, you feel your classmates heavy breath. momo, mina, kota, ojiro.

him.

you make your way back to shoto. his shoulders relax at the sight of you. he holds your hands, the shiver stops. he attracts them to his chest. a kiss is stolen. you’ll make it, you are heroes. well somehow you are.

number two.

“we don’t have time to think!” kaminari snaps, he is not wrong. your professors are fighting, the plan was simple, but still the league was strong. only a fool would never admit that.

“we can’t go out there and just fight like pro heroes” momo talks back, her voice is cracked and the fear tears threaten to sneak out.

“let’s split in groups” you suggest. hope, that’s what you all need. you came to fight for a better world. for peace. “we can beat them, some of us should remain here to figure something out, while others... we’ll try to gain you guys some time”

you search for your boyfriend’s eyes. todoroki can’t stop looking at you. no, not you.

“(y/n) don’t even...”

“midoriya, you and some others are perceptive and logical, if we don’t do this we don’t have a chance”

“she’s right, and we have to do it now!” bakugou agrees, not quite liking the idea of splitting but it was the best option.

he knows they are right. but he didn’t want to let go your hand yet. you are very capable of protecting yourself, but still if something happened to you..

jirou places a hand on your shoulder and smiles to todoroki.

“we will have each other’s back” she assures your boyfriend, quite knowing how he feels. in fact no one wanted their friends and classmates to risk his life if they were not able to be there and help.

number three.

his heart doesn’t stop beating. each beat feels harder and quicker than before.

your eyes, those (y/e/c) dazzling eyes.

a hug, a passionate kiss, the clock stopping for a moment.

“please, just... stay together”

number four.

he lets your hand go, the explosions and screams, you hear them closer. the wind is cold, but blood is warm.

take a deep breath. take a huge step.

and so, you and your friends start running to the battle. there’s no way back.

but there is someone waiting for you at the end of the line.

just breathe.

have your seconds, meet face to face.

five.

his pulse increases. he searches for your hand. you are not there.

“midoriya are you sure that’s the only way?” yaoyorozu asked midoriya while quick standing up, they have no time to go through the plan all over again, but todoroki knows that she is just asking because the plan meant a huge risk for everyone.

she cared, and so did everyone.

“as the nerd said, the only thing those bastards have is time!” bakugou says while he starts running. “they know being surrounded by pros is going to be hard so they’ll try to be quick, so we’ll be faster”

“and so, that’s why we have to do it, if everything goes well, they’ll be gone in a moment” todoroki assures.

or at least he tries to trust.

because this needed to work, they currently can’t have the luxury of second chances.

and so they hurry.

number six.

he lefts a sigh of relief out when he divides you in the second line of cavalry.

blood and dirt on your face, your hands were moving as well as every inch of your body. your tired groans, your death glares to the villains. your ethereal posture.

angelic, he thinks while running to your group, he needed to explain the plan to as many people as he could.

you take a glance towards him, a sentiment of family runs through his head. a sentiment of comfort.

no, majestic. he corrects himself catching your glance.

a huge wall of ice is made between you and the horrific villain who tried to kills you, he takes care of him too, freezing his whole body.

a wall of opportunity was made.

he holds you like he’s never done before. that movement gave you a few seconds to breathe again. as well as to jirou, tsuyu and shoji. also the pros that were in charge of you.

your head on his shoulder, his heart on your palm.

a whisper, and a chance.

“i love you too”

seven!

“everyone got it?” todorki asks to the crowd. a few people reunited there.

four hero groups. a villain army. a cliff and one single opportunity.

they all nod, and so the time out is gone. momo creating cannons in the west along with heroes like gang orca and cementos. midoriya and eraser head in the north, with bunch of people two. bakugou at the south, flying with explosion with present mic and so many others behind him. and todoroki sliding with ice and you by his side. with so others at his side.

just hold a few more minutes, all you had to do is push and drop.

the crash happens, the heroes and the villains meet once again. you just have to keep pushing them back. you had to direct them to the corner of the cliff.

then you along with every other emitting quirk holder will just blast your full potential to break the cliff and let the villains fall for their destiny.

you can do it.

and you have to do it.

number eight.

confess your sins. the moment of truth, villains are despicable, ruin, and sometimes psychotic. but also, clever.

you take a step back, dabi is in front of you. you vaguely reincorporated when a huge wall of flames split you apart from todoroki.

“let’s dance, darling” he says, chaotically calm.

“believe me” your feet stuck to the ground, you clean the blood from your mouth with your sleeve “there is no better dancer than me”

you lift a earth barrier, he blows it away with fire. a big foot step and the ground shakes, causing him to unbalance. you push him a few meters away.

you wait.

you search.

you made it.

once you realize that you had push the villains to the place you exactly wanted them to be, you don’t wait. when present mic’s voice was heard all over the battlefield.

todoroki steps back leaving you and all the other heroes to do your thing.

but he doesn’t rest.

his on guard ready to react to anything that might put anyone in danger. that might put you in danger.

he concentrates himself, he is not going to lose.

he doesn’t see the huge villain going to his back, while transforming his hand to a gun.

you do.

you were holding the ground, a terrified look comes across your eyes.

and the time stops again, or at least it slows down.

a look to the cliff you were holding.

a gaze to your boyfriend. and the villain who is ready to kill him.

you can do it.

10 seconds, maybe.

you keep one hand in the ground holding it until the final sign shows up. the sign that meant “let the villains fall now”

and the other one, you quickly raise it to shouto’s direction.

your body hurts.

the villain with the gun is thrown away by a massive piece of soil that you created.

todoroki turns around. he freezes the villain.

you hold, just a little bit longer.

the cue is shouted.

and you feel how something pierces your stomach.

nine.

a heartrending scream.

todoroki’s throat hurts, everyone heard his scream.

a heart breaks.

and you still feel a cold metallic knife in you.

the energy you had starts fading away, you look around and see toga with a huge smile in her face.

the time still is slowed down.

you feel your feet part from the ground. you were now floating, small pieces of soil surrounded you.

you see todoroki, he is slowly getting far from you.

it’s breaks your heart now, his eyes, those beautiful heterochromatic eyes are desperate.

at least he is safe now.

you can go now.

an arm suddenly surrounds your waist, it hurts even more than before. you don’t know why, maybe they wanted to take you away so that your classmates suffer your loss.

dying is one thing.

but dying and being lost is something completely different.

and with the few energy that your body has, you search for your aggressor.

dabi smirks, evil. he is also holding toga with his free arm. your body enrages knowing they will escape.

villains are smart, but those two were brilliant.

you look around and see hundreds of other villains falling from the cliff.

your heartbeats slow down too.

just one more time.

you still divise him, now some feet away and higher from you.

black, everything is turning black.

‘shouto todoroki, my love’ you think ‘thank you’

‘thank you for letting me see you one last time’

and number ten.

he starts counting, everyone does.

he doesn’t care, he’ll jump.

he sees your figure, falling down from the cliff.

you body, having a knife through it.

your arm, stretched out trying to reach his. your arms calling out for someone to go your way and hold it.

you eyes, widened, terrified.

4 seconds.

his feet don’t stop, he has to reach you. his breathless, but he has to become your hero now. you were waiting for him.

he is tired, his body doesn’t seem to respond. he no longer has ice, or fire. he tries, but nothing happens.

in the limit of the cliff he still tries to jump.

someone grabs him by the collar of his suit.

11 seconds.

he watches you, being held by him. and her laughing at what she’s done to you.

todoroki’s body is shaking.

todoroki’s body is clueless.

he sees your eyes, one last time before all the dust covers you and your kidnappers.

his head hurts.

and all of that because he sees your eyes, fighting.

his soul leaves his body.

14 seconds.

because the last thing he sees of you is your eyes closing.

his heart stops.

and he knows he is not there to see them opening again.

“please... just”

hand to his chest, holding back the tears.

“STAY ALIVE” he shouts into the void of the cliff bottom.

one phrase.

one scream.

one echoed broken voice.

one tired hero army.

only 21 seconds.

and one heartbroken teenager was all the battle left.