#but! people have to understand!!! i was a kid running around in a scary secret land!!! my brothers didn't want to play with me!
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lost-inthe-v0id · 9 months ago
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Someone PLEASE needs to do this
Like something about zuko and fire bending reader being engaged. Like she’s a royal and they’re being “forced to get married” but they actually fall in love. They support each other through everything and they’re literally stuck at the hip. They sneak out to see each other and whenever they have to go to formal events they can’t wait to see each other and they goof around all night. She knows all of his secrets and how he feels about his father and mother.
Reader somewhat gets along with Azula. Reader doesn’t like the way she treats zuko sometimes but she acknowledges she is only a product of the adults around her so she has a soft spot for her.
Then when zuko get exiled he’s so caught up on getting his fathers approval. He promises to her he’ll be back before she knows it. He knows how hard it is for her in the palace. She tries to go with him just as his ship is leaving, pleading with him one last time; insisting she can be of help. He declines her kinda harsh but she understands and bids him farewell. She walks away but remembers she has to give him something. A token of good luck. When she runs back to give it to him she over hears Zuko talking to someone telling them he didn’t want reader to come because she’d be baggage, a burden, dead weight. Reader is hurt and goes back to her room in the palace and cries her sorrows away. She really thought he thought more of her, he always complimented her when she firebent, she was taught by the best and he still thought of her as deadweight?
In Reality Zuko only said that because he knew he wasn’t going to come back for a while, he knew it would inevitably she would fall for someone else during the time he was away. What if he came back with his hopes up only to find her in the arms of someone else, someone who was there for her, who would care and love her then and there. He wasn’t good for her. And the faster he convinced himself he could move on, the less he would cling to her when he inevitably saw her again.
Time passes by and reader comes to the conclusion from the help of overthinking, that he never loved her. It was all a facade to win the approval of his father. If he really cared for her , he would know how awful it was in the palace without him. He abandoned her. And for what to find some kid?
She joins azula. She’s really good at fire bending and she hates to see azula practically destroy herself and the people around her for some approval. So she decided if no one will properly take care of her, she will. Over time Reader has disconnected her feelings from the actions she takes under Azula. Her only concern right now is Azula. She realizes Azula at her core is a wounded little girl and she takes care of her as her own.
IDK when or where reader and zuko reconnects or see glimpses of each other again but when he sees how she cares for Azula he melts away. You’re so scary to people around you but soft and nurturing towards his sister. He wants that. He needs it. At one point when you challenge him to fight due to anger from maybe hurting Azula in some type of way or jealousy due to his kindness towards katara. When you firebent in the past you made sure your flames wouldn’t hurt him but now they’re coming at him full force and he doesn’t know what to do.
@ me if u do plz give credit 👉👈🥺 I can’t write like that
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vaesbst · 3 months ago
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The Academy for Soulless Dolls|| #1
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╰┈➤ Synopsis; Mencià, a lifelong drifter through boarding schools, is thrust into the mysterious Rosethorn Academy, a haven for the elite. Eager to stay under the radar, her plans unravel when the school's most powerful heir becomes dangerously obsessed with her. As she uncovers dark secrets within the academy's shadowy halls, Mencià must protect her own secrets or risk being consumed by the sinister forces at play.
╰┈➤ Paring: Hyunjin x OC
╰┈➤ Genre: elite academy au, dark secrets, slow burn, angst, smut,fluff
╰┈➤ Warnings: explicit language, implied violence
╰┈➤ Word count: 5.1k
notes: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written and english isn’t my first language so I apologise for any grammatical errors. The main protagonist is an OC I created, and she’s meant to be a darkskin black female but you’re more than welcome to picture her as yourself or anyone else you want. Please do leave me some feedback as I appreciate them all and they help me improve.
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Mob mentality
-- also called herd or hive mentality -- is the inclination that some humans have to be part of a large group, often neglecting their individual feelings in the process, and adopting the behaviors and actions of the people around them.
                                                                                   ╔⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷╗
New beginnings are always scary- well at least that's what the average person would say if you asked them . Not many people are fond of change, some will even do the unthinkable to avoid it because, understandably so, it does open a vast door to the unknown and when individuals are used to a set routine, suddenly having to face and tackle something foreign will arise a sense of fight of flight in them.
But I can't say the same for me.
I'm walking through the vast opaque corridors of what's going to be my new home for the next year with my head ducked down, hiding away from the public and taking count of every step I'm making, attempting as much as possible to avoid the curious stares that I'm already receiving from the other students. I know it's weird to refer to a school as a "home" but coming from where I came, anywhere would be better than my actual in-house situation. My old school used to be my safe heaven. A place where i felt accepted and secure. A place where I felt like I could truly be myself and walk around the hallways without feeling much angst. It was great, until it wasn't. They turned on me so I had to flee in search of a new place to call home.
My dad wasn't too happy about me having to change schools in the middle of the year, as it would raise too many questions that he'd have to bury since he can't risk having his reputation ruined by a "trouble making" daughter. At least not now that's he's running for senator. So he did what he's been doing for the past 14 years. Found the best academy he could lock me up in for good.
This time he chose Rosethorn Academy for Gifted Kids, which I've heard lots about. Mainly regarding how it's a elite school where extremely rich entitled parents send their spoiled bratty kids to, so that they can get on with their luxurious lives without having to worry about them for a good year. But also about how they have developed an intricate housing system that is substantially similar to Hogwarts from Harry Potter which I'm sorta excited to see.
"Make sure your clothes are straightened and your hair is patted down adequately Mencìa, your aim is to leave a good impression" says my mum walking alongside me with her back as straight and rigid as a sugar cane, nose pointed up to the sky, strolling along this unfamiliar corridor like she owns the place.
Despite initially being a mere "commoner", my mother has gained a sense of superiority over her peers when my dad chose to marry her. She is aware that most of them bad mouth her behind her back, but she could not care less because in her words "only miserable people have the time to look down on others since they aren't satisfied with what life has given them, successful people are too busy capitalising off of their success". In some ways I do admire her confidence, but sometimes I do wonder whether she's just putting up a front.
Me and her have been walking for what seemed like hours before we reached the door of the headmaster's office. "Look at me for a second" my mother says grabbing my chin and tilting my head towards her.
"Ow ma! You're hurting me" i loudly whisper , trying to not gain attention from the other passer-by's as she keeps tilting my head in every direction, closely analysing my face to detect any imperfections.
"Like I said, leaving a good impression is key" she reminds me, "Plus, you look great today, though I wish you wore something a little bit more...professional? concise?" She admits whilst simultaneously looking down at my outfit: an oversized grey hoodie with a black Metallica graphic tee underneath, a jean skirt, white slouch socks and a pair of black healed Mary Jane's.
"I think it's a pretty average outfit ma" I defensively say since I literally don't see what's wrong with it, this is literally how I dress everyday. "Exactly." she reaffirms leaving me dumbfounded as she proceeds to knock on the door.
"COME IN!" shouts a feminine voice inside the office. As we walk inside we are welcomed by a tall, slim blonde woman, standing right next to her desk. She seems to be in her mid 50's.
"You must be Mencìa Natalia Cypress" she says looking at me and holding her hand out smiling. I took it, shaking it lightly, slightly intimidated by how intensely she's gazing at me. Almost as if she was trying to uncover my deepest darkest secrets which made me wonder what she could already know about me.
"And you must be Amethyst VonDée, her guardian" she says while shaking hands with my mother
"Yes correct, it's nice to finally meet you Mrs Peregrine" she smiles, looking at her up and down whilst still maintaining a sense of elegance in her greet, which Mrs Peregrine seems to be slightly taken aback by, but she manages to quickly compose herself and greets her with the same intesity, "The pleasure is mine, why don't we all take a sit and chat for a bit" she says, guiding her hands towards the two cushioned chairs in front of her chestnut desk.
Me and my mother gladly take our sits and Mrs Peregrine joins us shortly after. "So Miss Cypress, what I have here in front of me is your curriculum from your other school" she informs us, "and by giving it a quick scan I would like to say that it's relatively impressive!" She adds, "You have an A in pretty much every subject- except for PE but we can work on that. Plus, we only look at academic subjects here and not really physical" she smiles at me reassuringly.
"Though a C isn't a bad grade so you don't have much to worry about, but..." she shifts her gaze from her computer screen to me, staring at me with so much intensity that it made me shake on my sit, anxiously waiting for the next words that were about to come out of her mouth.
"I just wanted to inform you that we do not tolerate any type misconduct here at Rosethorn" the tone of her voice changed, suddenly sounding a lot more stricter and colder, a juxtaposition of her initial sweet and reassuring voice.
My heart drops at the reminder of the past occurrences in my old school. I wanted a fresh start. I wanted to move on so badly and get away from it all. I tried forgetting every instance that had happen for my own sake, but it seems like this situation will forever keep haunting me.
"My husband has already taken care of it Mrs Peregrine so it shouldn't be an issue" my mother intervenes, probably sensing my discomfort, "Plus I am aware that he has left a rather large donation to prevent this topic from coming up again, was it not large enough? Should i refer it to him?" she adds, smugly looking at the headmaster with her head high.
I witness firsthand the colour of her face completely draining as she started frantically coughing, "No *cough* no need to result to such drastic measures, I just wanted to..." she pauses and looks at me with a tight smile "..tell Mencìa about how the academy works. I was not referring to anything in particular" she awkwardly laughs and diverts her gaze back to her computer screen.
"Shall we move onto sorting out the house you will be part of?" she utters, clapping her hands together.
I swiftly look at my mother which seems rather pleased after witnessing the headmaster literally shiver from terror at the mention of my father. Me and her both know that my father is a scary individual. Not many people are willing to go against him because of his overarching strong personality, and the faint rumours about the end that many of his competitors have met. I don't know if the rumours are true since I was never too keen on knowing how my dad handles his business, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were. He's a terryfying man.
"Okay so after our system calculated the mean of your grades, looked into your old extracurricular activities and analysed the frequency in your contribution both in class and during these clubs as well as your socio-economic status, it has suggested that the best house for you would be.... Làpis Lazzuli!" she announces excitedly, looking at me seeking for a reaction.
I give her a slight awkward smile which she seems disappointed by, probably expecting a bigger reaction from me. I have no idea about what significance the houses here hold so being put in Làpis Lazzuli doesn't really make a difference to me, I would have been content any where to be honest.
"That's perfect! That is exactly what me and her dad were hoping for!" my mum proudly exclaims, looking at me like I've just won a Nobel prize for world peace. Confused is literally an understatement for what I'm feeling right now.
"I'm very glad you're happy with the choice madame" Mrs Peregrine smiles "Mencìa, heres your timetable" she says handing me my seemingly packed schedule "and your designated uniform should have been delivered to your room by now, so when you go check it out it should be placed on your bed. If it's not, do not hesitate to ring front desk and they'll sort it out for you"
I nod feeling slightly light headed. It's done. It's over. I've been enrolled and now i'm officially a Rosethorne student. I'd be lying if i said that my heart didn't feel like it was literally about to jump out my throat. I knew the process wasn't going to take long but a little part in me hoped that this meeting would have lasted longer, or at least long enough for me to familiarise myself with the idea of frequenting a school where hopefully no one knew me. And i was going to make that my priority. I have to keep myself anomymous no matter what.
I pick my bag up from the ground where it was slouched against one of the legs of the desk and make my way outside the office alongside my mother.
"That was a succesful meeting, i'll make sure to refer everything back to your father, he'll be very pleased to hear that you made it into Lapis house" she says, looking at me ecstatic. I scoff, knowing that if she was refering to my dad, as in THE Lucious Santana then he most likely wouldn't have cared. He doesn't tend to mingle with my affairs, all he cares about is his "empire".
"What the hell is the deal with this Lapus Lozzuli house?" i frown perplexed, "It's LÀPIS LAZZULI, not Lupas Luzzoli or whatever language you just spoke right now" she corrects me "Plus, only the best of the best get accepted into that house. Think about every politician or successful business owner you know that has attended Rosethorne. They were all sorted into Làpis house. They call it the house of the 0.1 percentile" she triumphaly says, making a grand gesture with her arms to emphasise the significance of her statement "Because being in that house will guarantee you a prime spot amongst the elites of the population the second you're out of here".
I nod as i sign of understanding to cut the conversation short. I tuned out whatever she was saying the second she started talking about politicians and all that rubbish, i have bigger things to worry about, like what the uniform is gonna look like on me and how fast i'll be able change and walk to third period english literature to be able to get there before everyone else. The last thing i want right now is to have an entire group of post pubescent teenagers wonder where the fuck i came from just because i chose to appear at a more appropriate time.
                                                                                   
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Oh wow..." my mother says dumfounded by the large building that was currently facing us. "Oh wow indeed madre..." i reply being equally as dumbfounded as she was. The female dormitory is rather magnificient to say the least.
It's a slate grey brick building with a charcoal clay & concrete tile roof. The massive burgundy entrance door was shadowed by a vast ashen staircase in the same opaque shade as the building. The walkway was drowned by white pebbles that composed an ironically smooth path of gravel that flawlessly complimented the walls' colour, and the dormitory was surrounded by a perfectly trimmed bush that fenced the structure. Directly infront of it, in the centre of the expansive walkway, a bronze fountain stood, with a statue of a supposedly faceless woman holding a withering rose against her chest.
I make my way up the stairs clutching the ends of my jean skirt  so tightly to avoid flashing anyone behind me and just to have something to hold because i genuenly don't know what to do with myself. The anxiety is eating me alive.
We make it through the entrance and are welcomed by a spacious hall, illuminated by an enormous crystal gold chandelier perfectly cascading above a large mahogany desk residing right in the centre.
A brunette tanned woman is sitting infront of a silver large screen behind the desk, loudly tapping away on her minuture iMac keyboard. She looked up once she heard us walking towards her and stood to greet us warmily "Hello! Nice to meet you both, i'm Faith" she said shaking both mine and my mother's hands. "You must be Mencìa" she looked at me with a bright smile "I was expecting you", she said whilst walking behind her desk and coming back round to where me and my mum are standing with a set of keys in her hands. She hands me the keys and i notice the large golden 77 engraved in the blue leather keychain attached to them.
"You will be residing in our solo suites on the third floor as requested by your father" i exhale, being glad that for once my dad cared enough to actually listen to me. I wouldn't have minded sharing a room with another student if it weren't for the special circumstances i'm currently in.
After all, i did have a roomate in my old school but unfortunately it didn't go as well as I planned...
I begged my father to request for a single room by myself, and i didn't think he was actually listening to me that day since he seemed to be a lot more captivated by contents on his work computer rather than his literal offspring standing in front of him begging for her life. I guess this time he actually acknowledged me.
"The elevators are this way" Faith points to her left towards the end the corridor where three silvery metallic doors were sitting against a brick wall next to each other. "Your suitcases should have been taken up to your room by now so don't you worry about them. Do call me if there's any concerns" she lastly says before returning back to her sit.
We made our way up to the third floor and found my room in no time, being that it was the only room at the very end of the corridor. There weren't many students around, as i recall noticing that the only people present in the bulding when i first walked in were Faith the receptionist and the tall security guard next to the entrance.
I figure that everyone must be in their respective classes right now hence the current sinister emptiness of the corridors.
"Okay brace yourself for disaster, we're here!!" my mother squeales excited. I grip onto the handle and open the door at a painfully slow pace with my breath hitched, expecting the worse even though it's probably just going to be an average sized empty room and I'm just overreacting.
The door opens all the way and we're met with a beautifully lighted spacious bedroom. The walls are pearly white with a pinkish undertone that I'm yet to determine whether it's due to the sunlight reflecting onto the majestic diamond chandelier in the dead centre of the ceiling, or if it's simply just the paint.
The floor is covered by a light grey carpet that I adore since I prefer walking around my room shoe less. A double bed rests upon a little round platform (also covered by the grey carpet) directly in front of the door. Its headboard is a silvery crushed velvet material. On the left side, two massive windows allow the sunlight outside to naturally light up the room, and a white couch with two fuchsia cushions sits underneath them.
A white mahogany desk resides on the right side of the room, between two doors. One leads to the en-suite bathroom and the other one leads to the walk-in closet. My suitcases were left in the middle of my room.
"I gotta admit this is much better than I expected" I say satisfied with what I was given. I'm not too sure whether it was my dad's doing or if these are just what the standard single rooms look like, but I'm happy nonetheless. I can't wait to decorate it.
"Your dad really outdid himself this time. That couch is fabulous! We need one in our bedroom" my mum says, pacing around the room inspecting the surroundings.
"What do you mean by 'dad outdid himself'? Did he remodel the room?!" I ask anxiously. I mean, I did request for a single room and it is indeed quite nice but I don't wanna receive any special treatments in case it brings too much attention. I would've been fine with anything.
"Not necessarily...but he did replace the original bed with the current one and he also got you the couch" she explains "plus the chandelier was my doing! Do you like it?" she looks at me hopeful, waiting for my response.
"It was a nice touch, I love it! Thanks mum" I say embracing her lovingly. A bit extra? Yes.
But what can I do. That's just how my mother shows her love for me every so often, especially since she doesn't get to do so in public anyway.
"You're welcome tesoro~" she replies hugging me back. I end our embrace and walk towards my bed where my uniform is sitting: An almost black navy blue blazer with 2 golden buttons, a blue and grey plaid bow tie with a big blue gem on the knot,  a plaid pleated skirt of the same colour of the bow tie, and a complementary black gilet sweater that I'm guessing is for when the weather is colder.
"Do you need any help unpacking Mencià? Because I can stay for longer if you need me to" my mother asks me with a look of worry on her face.
"No thanks mum. I'm gonna go off to my first lesson soon so I'm probably not gonna unpack right now. Plus it'll give me something to do this evening so I should be fine" I tell her, smiling reassuringly.
"If you say so then I'll be taking my leave. Don't forget to call me tonight once you're back from your classes and don't even think about shortening your skirt Mencià..." she beings rambling as I start pushing her towards the door. Once she starts she'll never end.
"... and wear tights! And I'm not talking about those fishnets you're hiding in your suitcase. You thought I didn't see them huh?!" she carries on, "yeah mum I won't don't worry" I respond exasperated trying to cease her blathering.
"Also..." we're at the door now and she's finally stopped her rambling session. She's looking at me now, worry back on her face "Don't forget that we're always here for you. Your dad may not show it often but he loves you very much" A saddened look replaces the look of worry as she begins stroking my left cheek with her thumb
"You've gone through a lot of hardships but this is your chance to start over. Don't think about the past anymore and focus on building a new future. A future that you desire" she says, smiling at me reassuringly.
"Thanks for the advice madre~" i force a smile in an attempt to hide the tears that are about to spill out my eyes. Goodbyes are  never easy, no matter how frequently they happen. I've gradually adapted to not being at home often being that I grew up going to various boarding schools, but this time it's different. It feels different.
"Please thank dad on my behalf for the bed and the couch" I say giving her one last hug. "I will~" she replies. We end our embrace and she gives me one last look before taking her leave.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Gosh~ spero di essermi portata tutto..."(I hope I brought everything I need) I mumble underneath my breath.
After mopping around my room for 30 minutes trying to figure out how to make my uniform look less dull, I finally left. I know I promised mum that I wouldn't wear the fishnets but I had no choice. I tried to add a little bit of me to my uniform by slightly shortening the skirt and wearing black fishnets with platform doc martens. Everything else is normal.
Third period starts in 45 minutes meaning that I still have time to get to my English classroom and settle in before the other students start swarming in.
Luckily I'm not experiencing much difficulty in finding the room thanks to the map of the school Faith gave on my way out, though I've noticed that the stares have increased and I'm starting to feel slightly anxious again.
Earlier today, I had thought that the reason why everyone was looking at me was because I was literally walking alongside my mother hence people figured that I was new and were just curious. But now I'm all by myself yet others are still staring at me, specifically at my neck, and whispering things underneath their breath to their friends if they're walking in duos or groups.
I'm trying to shake it off, but I'm finding it difficult to not think that they could know something. I feel like if I don't get out of here right now I'm going to start hyperventilating, which i absolutely need to avoid.
I begin rushing to find my classroom so I can seat down and stabilise my breath before everyone else gets there. After searching the hallway on the second floor for what seemed like an eternity, I finally find.
I go to open the door but I stop due to the unknown voices I'm hearing coming from inside. No one should be here yet, class literally starts in about 30 minutes then why am I hearing people inside?
"Have you not learnt your lesson yet? Must I remind you who you are again or are you gonna come to your senses?" says a male voice in a threatening but oddly calm voice followed by a loud bang and a weak mewl possibly coming from a second person in the room. I jolt as I take a step back thinking about whether I should just go back to my room and return at a more appropriate time.
"I-I-I-m s-s-s-orry. I won't do it a-a-gain. I must have lost my mind" pleaded someone with a shaky voice. Another loud bang occurs and this time a high pitched shriek of pain erupts from someone in that room. "You think sorry will cut it? How dare a parasite like you look at me" says the voice I heard at the beginning with a slightly more aggressive tone.
I can't stay here any longer. I'm not entirely sure about what's going on in there but what I'm sure about is that i don't want to be the next target. As I go to take my leave I suddenly come face to face with a girl who's seemingly been standing behind me for a while looking at me with what could only be deciphered as curiosity.
Since she hasn't uttered a word I choose to quietly keep moving. I'm not a fan of small talk as I fear awkwardness and I want to avoid it at all costs.
"Old money or new money?" the girl suddenly asks. I stop dead in my tracks, "I see you're Lapìs house so I'm assuming old money correct?" she insists after noticing my lack of response, "or...don't tell me you're social care!" she loudly whispers.
I look at her confused not entirely sure what to say. "How did you know I was Lapìs house?" I ask her the first question that popped into my mind.
She points at my neck and chuckles "Your bow tie. The gem in the middle is blue. Since you didn't know that then my assumptions were correct" she states proudly "You're new. That explains why I've never seen you around" she says, taking a step closer.
"My name is Aiura Yamaha but you can call me Yuri, nice to meet you" she triumphantly announces with a big bright smile revelling her perfectly curated white teeth. I nod and smile back introducing myself also but with a lot less energy "Nice to meet you, my name's Mencià".
She takes my hand and frantically shakes it, smile still wide and bright. Now that I'm taking a proper look at her I gotta admit that she's relatively beautiful. Her hair is dirty blonde styled in a pompous half up half down hairdo. Her skin is tanned and shiny emulating the reincarnation of what it means to be "baciata dal sole" (sun-kissed).
She's only wearing a white shirt with the first three buttons undone showing her prominent cleavage. Her bow tie is sitting lose around her neck, her skirt ends just below her bum and her thick white leg warmers rest on top of her black platform crocs decorated with a variety of random charms.
Her alternative way of dressing is a complete juxtaposition of her sweet innocent face. Her eyes are emphasised by the thick white eyeliner on her water line and the heavy nose contour gives her nose a more dainty and petite look.
"You didn't answer my question though" Aiura says, smile slightly faltering. I look at her clueless as I genuinely don't remember "Are you old money or new money?" she asks as I'm reminded of the set of questions she began her introduction with.  She stares at me with much more intensity waiting for my response
"I-I don't know, what does that mean?" I ask trying to sound as calm as possible but failing miserably. For some reason I feel like saying the wrong answer will only lead to the possible future trouble I'm so desperately trying to avoid. I should've just kept walking. I don't know why I stopped to interact with her.
"Wait...you don't know?!" she looks at me in disbelief with her mouth agape and her pupils about to pop out of their sockets. Was I supposed to?
I slowly shake my head wary of her next response. "When did you start?" she asks me incredulous, "today..." I whisper looking behind her in search of an escape from this situation. I'm still very unsure about where this conversation is heading.
"Ohhh! In that case, let me give you a brief rundown of how things work in this school. But not here, follow me!" she grabs my arm catching me by surprise and begins hurriedly pulling me away.
With a struggle, I'm able to snatch my arm away from her surprisingly tight grip. Her head snaps back to face me again, but something's different. Her face is flushed and she keeps glancing at the door of my English class. "You really can't be here Mencià. Or at least not now. You need to come with me" she says in a panicked tone.
"But where are we goi-"
"Just come!" Aiura snaps grabbing my arm once more and dragging me away again. My intuition is telling me that following her may be the best option for me right now. I don't ask any further questions and i let her guide me down the hallway.
Suddenly, I hear the door of my English class swing open as we're nearing the end of the hallway. I try to look behind me to catch a peek of the person (or people) that was causing all that ruckus. All I'm able to see is a tall, slightly slender silhouette with jet black wavy hair before Aiura takes a corner and my view get obstructed by the wall.
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the-guilty-writer · 2 years ago
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Can I ask a garcia daughter where Derek and her have close relationship much like his and garlic, and just cute moments between them
I think this works better as headcanons so here you go!
Penelope had always wanted to do more to help children who had lost their parents as she had and she decided that becoming a foster mom would be the best thing she could do to help.
You were 10 years old and your parents had been victims on a case that the team was working.
It was a local case and you were brought in to be interviewed.
A social worker was supposed to be there to pick you up, but they were running late and the team had to spread out to different places so Garcia volunteered to watch you.
She brought you to her lair and shared all her fun fuzzy pens and figurines with you.
After a few hours the social worker finally showed up but you refused to leave Garcia's side.
"I'm actually a foster parent. I'd be happy to have her until she settles down." "Thank you. As soon as we find her a long-term placement I will let you know."
Garcia ended up being your long-term placement.
She adopted you not long after that.
Hotch gave her lots of time off so she could be home to help you adjust, but sometimes she had to bring you to work with her.
The team didn't mind one bit. they loved having you around.
Of course you liked all of them.
But it was no secret that Derek was your favorite.
He was the first person you always hugged when Garcia brought you to work.
If Garcia was busy you would sit on his lap while he went over files (telling you to close your eyes so you didn't see any crime scene photos of course).
And at the end of a long day when you were exhausted from running around the bullpen he would carry you to the car and be super careful not to wake you up.
At school some kids made fun of you for your parents being dead and only having a mom now and no dad.
When Penelope told him he was furious.
So for career day he went instead of Garcia and he pulled out all the stops- FBI kevlar vest, hand-to-hand demonstration, cool stories about catching bad guys (leaving out the not so kid friendly parts of course), etc.
And the kids stopped making fun of you because you obviously had the coolest uncle in the whole world plus he can arrest people, has handcuffs, and carries a gun.
He took you to the dad and daughter dance too.
When you get into a sport he coaches you.
As long as he isn't away on a case he would never miss a game/meet.
You always perform better when he's there beforehand to give you a peptalk.
He was halfway across the country right before championships and he knew he wasn't going to make it so he slipped away for five minutes to call you.
"I'm always with you, little baby girl. You can do this."
The photo of you holding up your champion trophy/metal sits on his desk.
Garcia is baby girl and you're little baby girl even if you get taller than her when you start to grow.
He got you guys tee shirts with your nicknames on them.
The older you got and the more you could understand things the more inside jokes you would have.
When you go on your first date Derek pulls the big scary FBI agent dad act and Garcia has to tell him to chill.
And when you have your first heartbreak he doesn't get angry and want revenge for you. He just holds you while you cry and tells you that it's going to be okay.
Penelope on the other hand absolutely makes that person's life a living hell for a few days by inconviniencing them online in anyway possible.
She may or may not have changed the passwords to all their social media accounts and signs them up for every spam email possible.
He helps move you into your dorm room/first apartment at college.
When it was time to leave he cried more than Penelope.
She had to be the driver home because he couldn't keep it together.
"my dear chocolate thunder, she's only a two hour drive away. She can visit on the weekends."
When you've been dating someone for a while and you bring them home you know Garcia will love them, but you really hope that Derek doesn't scare them off.
He doesn't.
A few years later when they want to propose they know they need his blessing too.
He cries when he walks you down the isle.
He cries during the dad daughter dance too.
"I don't care how old you get, you'll always be my little baby girl."
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isa-ghost · 10 months ago
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do you have hc's for death duo?? if you just have more q!phil hc's i would enjoy them as well!!
Previous qPhil headcanons
YES HELLO these took me a hot second, I wanted to do Missa justice bc the fandom tends to just reduce him to nice wet cat in love with Phil. Unfortunately he gets on so little, I don't have a lot more than that to run with, so what you see is what you get and they're more Phil-POV'd. 😭
Also these are platonic bc you asked for Deathduo rather than Pissa!
Listen man. Missa's place in Phil's silly polycule? It's not strictly romantic (if at all) and not strictly platonic, it's a secret third thing. I don't hc Phil or Missa as aro but what they've got going on is def smth some aros would enjoy. The best way to explain it is Kiss The Homies. Except there's a massive crush on Missa's end.
Phil loves doing literally everything with Missa. Exploring, egg care, goofing around, whatever. Quality time and gift giving are his love languages no matter the type of love. He just loves hanging out.
Phil can do no wrong in Missa's eyes. He's this amazing (and very pretty), smart, caring and powerful guy. He cares so much about people, how could he possibly do wrong? Missa is the #3 Philza Minecraft defender (he concedes that Chayanne & Lullah are #1 and #2).
Missa doesn't understand the whole Bolas thing but he's happy it seems to make Phil happy. He thinks? (The word he's looking for isn't happy, it's manic /lh)
Being away so often sucks, but Missa loves coming back and getting stories from Phil. ... The good ones, not the [lore] ones. Those scare him.
They love exaggeratedly rping nuclear family to tease Chayanne. Holding each other making kissy noises like OoOoH MiSsA I LoOoOvE yOu! OoOoOh PhiLzA I LoOoOvE yOu tOoOoOo! And then Chayanne starts (lovingly) hitting them
The rare times Phil is doing something that doesn't require him to move around, Missa gets a free lap pillow. Phil's good at playing with hair, Missa knocks right the fuck out
And Missa likes putting little braids n stuff in Phil's hair. Actually he looks damn good with those little side ones tbh.
There's something funny about the Angel of Death and a reaper being so close. When the kids are asleep, they swap stories about Missa's past reaping jobs and Phil's,, adventures
Speaking of Phil's past, Missa hasn't doubted him for a single second about what little of the hardcore gods Phil has shared with him. El Ender King es una pequeña perra. >:(
Actually he REALLY wants a full-on lore dump from Phil. The stories sound so fascinating. He wants to know more.
One of Phil's favorite things about Missa is how easy to startle he is. Missa screeches never get old.
Dependable as ever, Phil is the first one Missa goes to when he's missing information or scared. Phil always has answers and he can always protect him!! (*is heavily implying angst here, no Phil can't :)*)
Usually it happens when Phil is 100% alone but he does genuinely get a lil depressed when he misses Missa badly. He wanders to distract himself
Idk man if I was Missa I'd get a little 😳 seeing Phil spattered in blood after a battle where he obliterated whatever the fuck it is he's up against. Scary crow man being a badass motherfucker and then his bloodied ass's first question is if you're okay?? HOO. Would not blame Missa for acting unwise about it
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phantomposting · 2 years ago
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My mind is jello please excuse spelling errors and grammar mistakes I haven't slept much lately due to issues with insomnia. Either way I hope you guys have been enjoying the silly little writing prompts I make :D I like day dreaming when I can't fall asleep. Sorry in advance this one is a bit long.
Trigger Warning: injury, dissection/vivisection
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This is another Danny and Damian are twins au. In this AU we got the there can only be one heir thing and Damian is the one to come out on top due to how protective Danny is of his sibling. So Danny ends up in Illinois and goes down the path to becoming Phantom.
Eventually Danny's parent's discover he's Phantom and try to study and dissected him and Danny has to go on the run deeply injured physically and emotionally. His running leads to him being homeless and hiding in Gotham. He's super paranoid and trusts nobody trying to keep his distance from people so he hopefully doesn't get caught and dissected molecule by molecule.
One day Alfred is out grocery shopping when he spots the terrified injured teen in an alleyway and it's the weirdest thing. This kid looks almost exactly like Damian except his eyes are an icy blue and the poor kid is skin and bone. He looks to be about the same age as him aswell.
Alfred tries to offer the injured child some help but the kid vanishes. The whole situation is baffling but he was never one to give up that easily and he can absolutely tell the kid is in a dire situation and really needs help. So he decides the best course of action is to take it slow and try to slowly earn the kid's trust.
Every day Alfred goes "shopping" he goes to the grocery store and leaves a meal and supplies for the kid. He can't really tell the others especially Bruce due to how paranoid the bats can be. All signs point to possible league activity but Alfred can tell the kid isn’t dangerous just terrified. If he had to guess he would guess the kid was going to be used in some league plans but managed to escape. He knows Bruce would be far too harsh with the kid and that's the last thing someone so terrified needs right now.
So Alfred's secret meetings with the kid continues slowly gaining the kid's trust more and more until eventually he gets the kid to talk to him. He learns Danny's name and Danny thanks him for the help and kindness. Everyone can see Alfred is acting a little cheerier after that and nobody knows why. They won't really question it though the man is baking cookies more than he used to and well his cookies are worth staying in the dark for.
One day though Danny doesn't show up to their meeting. Alfred begins to worry something feels wrong. He decides to contact Barbra and ask her for help locating the child. He trusts her to not overreact and he knows she's the best person for the task.
Barbra can absolutely see why Alfred kept this a secret once she locates Danny. This kid's resemblance to Damian is scary the only thing that makes her believe this might possibly not be a clone is the ice blue eyes. Locating Danny reveals he's been heavily injured and Alfred rushes out to aid him.
Upon arrival he realizes this is a bit more than he himself can manage especially in some dirty Alleyway and with the possible league ties he knows he can't take the kid to the hospital so he has to give in and tell Bruce about the situation. Of course at first he just starts with a call saying to bring in Dr. Thompkins which makes Bruce anxious as hell.
Danny is brought into the batcave out cold and Bruce of course is his paranoid self. The rest of the family is quite curious about the odd child that Alfred brought in and is hovering around. Damian doesn't understand why the others are so nosy that is until he catches a glimpse of the kid and realizes it's his dead twin brother.
Damian has his guard up majorly after that. The doctor helps Danny and the Y shaped wound from his run in with his parents is discovered and its not doing so great so this kiddo is gonna need a lot of bed rest aside from the odd burns.
Turns out Danny had a run in with the GiW they located him in gotham and he barely escaped. He's out for a hot minute tho so that leaves all the family to speculate. Bruce is being super paranoid and a bit hostile with the kid but Alfred vehemently defends him.
Damian is deeply conflicted he doesn't feel his brother could possibly want to hurt him. He knows how protective Danyal had been. He knows Danyal gave his life to make sure he would live on, but there's no way Danyal can be alive without the League's involvement. Damian refuses to leave Danyal's side until he knows for sure what is going on, of things will be safe, and if Danyal will be alright.
This leads Bruce to question him and thats when everyone discovers Damian and Danyal are in fact twins. Bruce is heartbroken he never even got to know about his 2nd son and this stirs conflict between Damian and Bruce. This also makes Bruce want to believe that Danny is safe and would hopefully join the family, but this also makes him far more anxious about league involvement and makes him raise his guard.
Eventually Danny wakes up and is forced to explain things though he tries to leave the half ghost stuff out and everyone can see he's hiding something making paranoia grow within the batfam members but everyone also tries to give Danny a chance. It could just be processing trauma after all and if he was really after something he would have made a move by now right? The only one fully trusting of Danny is Alfred whom has become rather close with the child. Alfred is happy to have another grandchild to bond with.
Eventually Damian forces the whole truth out of Danny since Danny's ghostly obsession makes him desperate for family and he deeply doesn't want to risk losing Damian again. Damian promises to help keep Danny's secret but tries to reassure him that it's okay to share it with Bruce and that they'll help keep him safe but Danny's fears make it very hard for him to do so.
Eventually the truth forcibly comes out when the GiW comes knocking down the front door for Danny. Danny runs for it absolutely terrified and Alfred threatens them with a gun. We all know Alfred isn't afraid to kill in order to protect his family. Eventually the bats are able to sneak in and knock the agents out but Danny is missing.
The bats bring the Agents to the cave and interrogate them and Damian goes looking for his brother. The Agents tell the bats Danny's secret and demand they hand over the "Ecto Scum" the Bat's are pissed with the agents and now understand why Danny was so secretive.
Damian eventually locates Danny and is able to comfort him and get him to come back to the manor with him. The family doesn't tell him they know his secret. He gets to share it when he feels safe enough to. They do however work hard and get the anti ecto acts repealed.
Eventually Danny gets adopted, the Fenton's go to jail, and Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are reunited with Danny and Danny gets to have a healthy life in Gotham with his new found family. Eventually becoming a Gotham vigilante and getting back on track with things in school. Basically everyone gets a happy ending :D
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forestdeath1 · 6 months ago
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Re: Dumbledore headcanons reading like conspiracy theories. I one hundred percent agree. People go down some insane spirals, where they remove themselves further and further from any reasonable interpretation of canon events as described.
The thing that gets me most about it is just how inconsistent the theories often are within themselves. Dumbledore is somehow a super genius who knows everything about everybody and his only goal is to... idk, furhter his own fame, I guess? Become more powerful? But then he doesn't USE the fact that he knows everything about everybody and can manipulate any event towards any outcome in order to do thta except to like. Put Harry in uncofortable situations year after year? For what?
This is a man who could have been the Minister for Magic if he had ever indicated that he wanted that position. He's already a beloved war hero and highly respected for his abilities. What, exactly, do people even think he's trying to accomplish by psychologically torturing Harry and probably causing the rise of Voldemort in the first place and, I don't know, sacrificing children to the blood god, probably.
Like, this idea that he knows everything and can predict how everything is going to go all the time is so ridiculous to me. It is very clearly something that Harry THINKS when he is a kid (even speculating on whether Dumbledore wanted him to go after Quirrell) but I've never read that as anything but a childish need to have an adult around who has a handle on things. Dumbledore himself keeps saying in books five and six that he doesn't know everything and he makes mistakes. His ability to predict Voldemort is fifty percent having a spy and fifty percent hard work over a long time to understand the man as well as he possibly can. He simply doesn't have a time to build a dossier like that on everybody he meets.
Sorry for the rant, I apparently had a lot to say about this topic. I always kind of wish that if people want to make him a villain, they at least do it properly: a man who has managed to fool an entire country for fifty years and is widely beloved -- with unexpected, loyal supporters in many places -- despite being secretly evil would be a scary villain to take on. Instead people somehow make him stupid and very easily foiled on top of everything at which point I have to ask... how did he even get this far?
For what?
Obviously, Dumbledore is just EVIL. This EVIL person refused all real positions of power and stays in his shabby Hogwarts, where he can easily be discredited and lose power, and makes genius cunning plans, simply because he’s evil and a psychopath. He makes Harry search for Horcruxes because he obviously enjoys watching Harry suffer. Dumbledore knew everything about the Horcruxes from the start but didn’t want to do it himself. It’s like a hunger game, he sits and watches from above as Harry runs after Horcruxes, a vile manipulator. And Voldemort isn’t bad, Dumbledore made him that way.
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It reminds me of "XXX are ACTUALLY evil and were created by a secret government, you're being MANIPULATED" lmao
I think, most people can’t forgive him for "neglecting" Harry’s emotional state and personal well-being. For them, personal well-being is so much more important than everything else that anyone who threatens someone’s personal well-being isn’t just a person, they are an evil psychopath. According to the narrative, Harry is the only one who can save their lousy world and thousands of people, and they think that Dumbledore should have hidden Harry from all harm and sent him to Mallorca, and then watch as Muggle-borns and Muggles are genocided. Then he wouldn’t be an evil psychopath.
Dumbledore is emotionally detached, yes, and he’s not perfect, but for example, to say that Aberforth is kinder than Dumbledore because Aberforth took care of Harry – what are they measuring kindness with? How warmly you are dressed and fed? They don’t care that people around them are dying, right? Aberforth is not the kindest person, he’s just afraid of moral responsibility and doesn’t really care about the people in the WW.
There’s no such thing as a mass of people, every mass is made up of individuals. But people often forget about it. That’s why people sympathise more with Harry because they see his suffering on every page. But there are also hundreds, if not thousands, of Muggle-borns, half-bloods and Muggles who suffer, die and are tormented every day. But they don’t matter, right? There’s no book written about them.
Sirius, for example, also thinks that the well-being of others is more important than personal well-being (his "conversation" with twins). Harry thinks so too. I don’t understand why people think Harry would refuse to search for Horcruxes. He’s not the type of person who would enjoy life while others are dying. He cares deeply for others, and this sense of responsibility runs right through his heart and it’s clear from the very first books.
The trolley problem is thought to be "unsolvable" among people, but 60% of professional philosophers think that you should flick the lever. This is the essence of moral responsibility for our actions. Refusing to flick the lever and letting five people die instead of one isn’t good, it’s moral irresponsibility. Aberforth actually creates much more evil than Dumbledore. And many studies have shown that about 80% of people will flick the lever. Bit this number drops when this one person is someone close to them. That’s why Dumbledore is an evil psychopath to them, they can’t understand how he could not "care" about Harry (but he actually did care, he just wasn't emotionally close to him).
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super-unpredictable98 · 1 year ago
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Make Me Sway | Song of Sway Lake AU
Chapter 5: Hidden Gems
Warning: Strong language, mention of death, smut, a little angst
(Make Me Sway masterlist)
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"Thank you, Ollie," Lada curled up against the wall of the supply closet, but jumped when she felt the wood budge behind her. "Fuck, what's this?"
"Looks like a door," he pointed his lantern at the spot where the opening seemed to be.
"Wanna see what's behind it?" She smiled.
"What if it's bad?"
"What if it's good?" 
"Fine, fine..." Ollie gave her the lantern. "You go first then."
She slowly crawled inside the secret den and up the wooden stairs, and her mouth fell open. "Oliver! Come here, come here! The records..."
"What?" He followed. "Oh, my God!" 
That place was minuscule, could barely fit both of them at the same time, and was filled to the brim with records of all kinds, drawings, notes, and letters on the walls. It was like in that tiny little room, their father was still alive.
"Music for my son Ollie who understands me," Lada read one of the notes on the wall. Her eyes filled with tears, she could almost hear his voice in each word. 
"Music for my daughter Lada who turned beauty into kindness," Ollie offered her a bag. Inside the bag there was a music box with a pretty ballerina on top, it was for sure made by hand and had details in what seemed to be real gold. 
"I miss him so much," she sobbed quietly. "He wasn't great to himself, but he was a great dad to us when he could."
Oliver nodded. Seeing that vulnerability he never sensed in his grandma, who proudly announced to everyone she didn't cry, made him regret ever treating his sister like he did. She was just like him, someone trying to fight the role that was imposed on her ever since she was a child.
Lada looked through the records while Ollie read through the catalog their father left behind detailing every item from his collection. Right at the end, he found a photo of their old man when he was just a kid. 
"You're not ugly," Oliver whispered, sobbing as well.
"No, he isn't, and neither are you," Lada pulled out a record wrapped in brown paper. "Ollie... this is it. Sway Lake, the original. Still sealed."
He stared at the leather sleeve under the paper in disbelief. He had finally found his perfect record, the only thing he could never sell or give up. For a moment he feared Lada would take it and run to give it to their grandma, but she handed it to him instead. 
"Dad would want you to have it," she smiled, wiping her tears away. "Take good care of the memories in there."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely, I wouldn't want someone else to have it either. It's yours."
The two siblings finally hugged, really actually hugged, after the longest time. Their heartbeats were in synchrony and they found comfort in each other's arms knowing they were the only people left in the world to care for one another. It was a lonely, scary comfort.  
"Let's find a safe place to hide it," Lada suggested, already making her way down the stairs with her music box in hand.
After concealing the record behind Ollie's bed and the music box under one of the floorboards in Lada's room, the two of them went back to the living room. 
The others were already sitting around the table, they didn't even wait to start eating under the flickering candlelight. Half of a ham, half of a loaf of bread, half a bottle of wine, and a half conversation.
"Oh, the Arctic Sea? Oh please, try this lake, 5 AM in April," Charlie laughed delightedly at Nikolai. "Hal and I used to swim naked."
"Great topic, grandma," Lada sat in between them, slightly uncomfortable seeing him talking to her grandma alone, especially after her suspicions from earlier. He was not doing a very good job to impress her and he immediately knew it with one look at her beautiful face illuminated by the candles.
"Nikolai was telling me about his adventures. Did you know he used to go looking for soldiers in St. Petersburg with his father?"
"No, he never told me," she forced a smile. 
"My pop used to take me in the spring, what he loved about the USA is you don't leave your soldiers dead in the mud. You take every soldier home, that is what makes this country the best nation on earth," Nikolai said.
"I see you didn't fix the lights?" she asked instead of engaging.
"So sorry, lovely, I couldn't. But it is more romantic this way, don't you think?" He winked. 
"Does it matter? Nobody here is in the mood for romance."
Lada leaned back, her arms folded petulantly. Why was she so jealous? Of her grandmother? Maybe because that is who he wanted her to be, an old movie heroine who just doesn't even realize how charming she is.
"Why are you angry, beautiful?" Nikolai whispered, discreetly kissing her exposed shoulder while nobody was looking. "What have I done? Just tell me and I'll fix it! Unless this is about the lights, then I have to wait until morning to fix, I can't see the box when it's dark."
"Give me a break... Who are you trying to impress?"
"Nikolai and I were just talking, dear..." Charlie smiled, not knowing why seeing her grandaughter so angry made her giddy. "Your grandfather would have loved him."
"Is that so? I thought Grandpa hated those- how did he say it? Commie bastards," Lada murmured and Ollie had to cover his mouth not to laugh.
"What did you say to her? Why is your sister upset with me?" Nikolai asked Oliver, thinking maybe he had mentioned his past or some woman he had been with.
"I didn't say anything, she was happy until we got here," he whispered, also finding his sister's attitude weird after all they talked about in the secret hiding spot and the moment they shared.
"If you'll excuse me, I lost my appetite," Lada got up without waiting for her grandmother's permission, knocking over the wine bottle and spilling it all over the table.
"Lada!" Charlie screamed. "Can't you move around like a normal person? You have always been like this, knocking everything over... I don't know how you managed to get on Broadway being so ungraceful."
"Here, it's alright, no harm done," Nikolai grabbed a napkin and soaked up the mess before it could ruin any clothes. "There, brand new."
"Never look at me again," the young woman managed to hiss before storming off to her room.
She didn't understand that feeling stirring in her stomach. He talked to her grandma in the same exact way he talked to her... was that what bothered her so much? How he seemed to want to impress that old hag? It was the most confusing sensation she had ever experienced and the worst part is that her biggest wish was for him to follow her and make everything right again.
"Lada," he called from the doorstep while she watched the lake from her window. "You are scared of the dark, what are you doing all alone up here?" 
"Leave me alone!" She shouted without meaning it.
"Why? What happened?" 
"You know what happened!"
"I don't! Please tell me," he insisted, joining her after closing the door.
"You were... You know what you were doing. Stay away from me, you liar!" She wiped her tears, looking the other way so he wouldn't see them. "I know why you like me, the real reason."
"I want to make your grandmother like me. If she likes me, she gives her blessing and you'll be mine."
"That was not what you were doing, you were-" Lada choked on her own words. "Flirting."
He stared at her for a few moments before bursting out laughing, which only made her angrier. How dared he? All that talk of true love and now this? 
"Are you jealous, my love?"
"What? No!"
"It's cute."
"SHUT UP! I saw the way you looked at her, I saw the way she looked at you, I saw the way you looked at her old photos! Get out!" Lada screamed. "Sick bastard, I'm taking a cab back to the city and I'll never set foot on this fucking house again!"
"I think you are having the same trouble as your brother... You think I like you because of the way you look and if I like you because of the way you look, I actually like her. You both put the fact that you are so similar above anything else."
"I am not stupid, Nikolai!"
"You are not, in fact, you are very smart. You are also funny, sweet, elegant, charming... You are so many things. That is you, you are the one I like."
"I don't believe you."
"You will have to, because if you don't become my girlfriend I am jumping in that lake and never coming out."
That was incredibly manipulative, Lada knew that, but she also liked it. She liked how he made it seem like there was no life for him without her. 
"Just like my dad."
When Nikolai noticed his mistake, it was too late. He had already said it and probably sounded like an insensitive prick. Now he feared he ruined any chance of her saying yes. Of course he didn't mean to mock her father's death, it was just an expression, but he couldn't tell by her face how offended she was.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying that and for... trying to boast to someone else. You are the only one I want to impress. I would never look at another woman if you were mine."
"Not even her?"
"Is that even a question? Of course not!" 
She giggled, looking away once again even if the darkness hid the blushing of her cheeks. She couldn't risk letting him know what sort of effect he had on her, even if she thought he already knew.
"What?" He laughed.
"Your accent."
"You have a thing for my accent, don't you?" 
"Who told you that? I just thought it was funny the way you-"
"So you don't want me to speak Russian to you?" Nikolai whispered, leaning closer until his lips brushed gently the shell of her ear. "Ya khotela tebya ves' den', Lada."
She still had a bad feeling about the whole situation, but looking at someone with rose-colored glasses makes red flags seem like simple flags. 
"Nikolai... your Russian does nothing to me," Lada was pretty much determined to make him beg for her, give him a couple nights to regret what he'd done.
But unfortunately, he was very clever and noticed the signs that contradicted what she was saying.
"I don't think you're being honest with me," he said while pressing open-mouthed kisses to her chest. He reached under her panties and feel her up and smiled against her feverish skin. "See? I know what I do to you, my beautiful lady of the flowers." 
"No I don't- I don't wanna do it right now." 
"No? Why no, beautiful?" He purred. "If your body clearly wants to." 
"Because I don't want you to think... I'm easy. I'm not!" 
"I know you are not, you're making me wallow around just to say yes to being my girlfriend. Usually women throw themselves at me on the first night, I had to work hard for the privilege to have you. You are not easy, I promise."
"But I'm still angry at you."
"You are? I know how to make it better," Nikolai quickly undressed and carried her to bed. She didn't protest as he slid her dress off and then her underwear until they were both skin-to-skin. 
"Still angry," she muttered despite not making any effort to stop him. 
"Even when you're angry you are so beautiful," he kissed down her body, giving every single inch the attention it deserved until he reached her sex. "When I was younger I learned a very good medicine for anger and sadness." 
"What is it?" 
He delved between her thick thighs and savored the taste of her pleasure. His tongue explored her sensitive spots, finding exactly what made her squirm the most and the more he tasted, the harder he became. 
"Nicky!" Lada gasped, tugging at his short curls. "Oh fuck..."
"It looks like the effect is already happening," he teased as he caught his breath for a moment before going back to pleasuring her.
"Lada, could you stop being so childish and-" Charlie opened the door and caught a glimpse of the couple making love under the candlelight. "Oh!"
"Grandma! Get out! Can't you knock?" She cried, covering herself while Nikolai swiftly moved away, for once bothering to cover his privates, feeling like his lover would not appreciate him being so carefree in front of someone she was so jealous of. 
"Can't you lock the door?" Charlie countered, leaving out how she could hear the moans from outside but still decided to barge in. 
"Sorry, Mrs. Sway, it was my fault," Nikolai chuckled. "I forgot."
"Well... don't let it happen again," she stared him up and down with an intrigued look before leaving. "I'll say what I have to say tomorrow morning."
Lada groaned in frustration, on the verge of tears when her grandmother closed the door. Nikolai quickly got up to lock it, not wanting another accident. 
"She was staring at you! She was- I think I'm gonna be sick!" She growled. "That fucking old hag! She can't stand to see me happy, she wants me to be miserable like her because I'm young and she's older than sliced bread!" 
Nikolai wanted to say she wasn't staring, but he knew that wasn't true and Lada was much too smart to just ignore that. He felt really bad, but at the same time, he felt more wanted than he ever did before.
"Don't worry about her, darling! I am yours, I told you that," he said instead, joining her in bed once again. "Do you want to keep going?"
"I'm not in the mood anymore, she ruined it."
"Aw, my lady of the flowers," Nikolai took her in his arms, kissing her neck teasingly. "If you let her ruin our night, you are just giving her what she wants. You are so beautiful, you smell so good, your skin is so soft... I don't wanna stop, I want to make you finish properly. You look so gorgeous when I'm pleasuring you."
"Stop that, you're trying to seduce me."
"I know, and it seems like it's working," he pointed out, reaching between her legs to feel how wet she was. 
Lada sighed, letting her head fall back and rest on his shoulder as he blew gently in her ear. It did feel really good before her grandma ruined the fun, why should she let her dictate when it ends? 
"Can I help you get hard again?" She finally caved. 
"I never stopped, my darling," he huffed a soft laugh, pulling her closer to feel his erection. "You are too perfect, just the thought of you is enough to keep me up."
Tag List: @seanfalco @firstpersonnarrator @salvador-daley @elliethesuperfruitlover
"Oh, I love younger men..." she giggled, climbing onto his lap again.
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lablass-2882 · 2 years ago
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The daughter’s of Clones.
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Part one of my crazy ass Clone Kids au that has fully taken over my brain. Anyway, here are the daughters of the 10+ person group I am working on.
Why did I do this to myself again?
I’m calling it Clone Kids Au or Clone Squad Au.  
First things first, most of them are the biological offspring of Clone soldiers. The rest are adopted, children or Foundlings. And honestly, some of the kids just so up. The clones rarely make a fuss about this. Most of the kids that come to them have nowhere else to go, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Meh, free kid.
The surviving clones have made up their own unit in the Rebellion, and for the most part, they just do their own thing. Several Rebel units are wary of working with the Clones, which also extends to their kids. But they make it work. The different squads have proven to be effective strike units, scouting teams, and recovery groups. So the Rebellion isn’t complaining.
These are also some of the characters I am writing in the crack fic. I’ll link it below.
Characters.  (Left to Right.)
Capt. Taliyah (Tally) Fett. Code name: Tally-Mark. Tally is the daughter of Clone from the 212th and an Infernal Woman (aka Space Tieflings.). She was adopted by Commander Cody after her parents were killed in an Imperial attack. This event was also when she lost her legs (she has prosthetic ones now), broke her horn, and earned her nickname of Tally-Mark. She has a running tally of near-death experiences. Tally is second in command for her unit and is one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the Rebellion. 
Quirks
Multilingual 
Short tempered.
Very good at paperwork. 
Commander Aurora Fett. Code name: Frost. Aurora is the daughter of a Clone from the Coruscant Guard and a Pantorans woman. Her father’s dying breath was to tell Fox about his secret daughter. Fox finds her two days later and had three million panic attacks about being responsible for a small child. He loops Thorn into the mess, and the three of them start planning to desert the GAR. Several poorly times plans later, all three end up in the Clone Rebellion. Aurora is currently in charge of the Squad and desperately needs a nap. 
Quirks
Tea and Coffee snob.  
Is actually kind of shy 
Hates paperwork with a passion. 
Nyx Rime. Code name: Night. Nyx is half Nautolan and Clone. Like Tally, her father was a part of the 212th. Nyx never knew who her father was until the Rebel unit came to her home world, but once she found out, she was all in. Her mother’s family was less than thrilled but reasoned that they could stop her from running off. She is one of the older kids in the Squad, but you wouldn’t know it by how she acts. Nyx currently works for the Fulcrum unit alongside Fae.
Quirks
Is a major flirt.
Scary good at reading people. 
Loves sweets.
Faelynn Kin. Code name: Stripes. Fae isn’t biologically related to a clone but was raised alongside the other kids in the Rebellion. Not that any of the kids really care about that distinction. Everyone gets treated like a sibling in the different squads, regardless of genetics. Fae is a Lasat who was found abandoned by a Clone soldier from the 501st and taken to the Clone Rebellion. She is deeply grateful for this act of kindness and wants to pay that kindness forward. She is currently working for the Fulcrum unit with Nyx. Fae isn’t happy about it, but she doesn’t want Nyx to be working on her own, so she sticks around the team anyway.
Quirks
Team Mom
Is protective of her family.
Gets drunk super easily.
Sev'eere'nuruodo or Sparks. Code name: Glitter. Strap in cause Sparks has a very fun backstory. For starters, Sparks is the daughter of either Comet, Sinks, or Boost, but no one who did the deed. Sparks’ mother was a Chiss courtesan on some outer rim planet and had “relations” with all three clones. When the Wolfpack returned to the planet, Spark’s mum just sorta…. dropped Sparks off with them and left. Que, one very understandable freakout and one very frantic call to Woffle for advice. Sparks is aware of all of this but just doesn’t care. She has her dads, her siblings, and her inventions. What else does she need?
Quirks
Causer of problems. 
Is actually very smart.
Is the baby of the group.
Branch Fett. Code name: Duo 1. Branch is the Twin sister to Twig and is the daughter of a Trooper from 501st. She is half Twi’lek and is very proud of her heritage. She and Twig were brought into the Rebellion by Numa when the Empire attacked their home. The two were later placed within the Squad. Branch can be a bit of a loudmouth and shit disrupter when bored. Branch is a pilot /mechanic for the Squad and is one of the best. She is a Hera fan girl, btw.
Quirks
Gossip Girl.
Only trust her twin to co-pilot.
Runs a not-so-secret betting ring. 
And that is all for now. 
Here is the link to crack fic.
The guys are up next and then probably a round-up of any loose characters that are in my head for this crazy AU that my brain is building up.  Hopefully, I will be able to draw them some more.  
Anyway, have a good week y’all. 
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wyrdle · 2 years ago
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AU idea: Living machine
Post game spoilers: Gist of it is the kids getting messed up more and Clavell stepping up more haha.
I’ve been thinking about how the crystals themselves in Area Zero seem like a living thing, or if not, are being manipulated by something. Personally don’t like to remove the Professors’ autonomy/decision to do bad things (As in I don’t think it manipulated their minds), but the hints of a Disk Creature etc. got me thinking that the time machine itself has some level of self preservation that isn’t coded. Basically: I think it’d be fun if the latter protection protocols were it protecting itself.
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I think it’s either:
A) The protection protocol is purely Prof’s safeguards that the AI itself didn’t notice in the code.
B) The “time machine” is really a portal on a Pokemon’s back that’s forced open by the Prof’s tech.
C) The “time machine” was built as a mimic of the above creature in the illustration, eventually gaining sentience via the crystals.
Anyway, after the Paradise protection protocol kicks in, and the tera crystals start taking over the AI professors, instead of the Miraidon battle, the crystals begin growing all over the ground. Horrifically, the children are trapped with it all, frozen into place in a crystal encasing. Since there’s also that running theory of people’s imaginations being the source of the Paradox pokemon, perhaps these crystalised kids’ imaginations/dreams are being fed from, and that this is how past researchers disappeared.... slowly digested into the crystals we see.
Fast forward a bit, the teaching staff get concerned about the absences of these four, with Director Clavell eventually having Jacq trace their pokedex/roto phones. Cue him dashing into Area Zero, pinging Geeta to get there as quickly as possible with reinforcements (this is assuming that no one else besides him and potentially Jacq are aware of Area Zero’s secrets within the school.)
Picking up from some others’ AUs, I like the thought that Clavell had actually visited the labs to talk sense to the Profs over Arven’s situation, but got fooled by the AIs into thinking things were fine. More motivated now, he travels all the way to the final lab, shocked to find how quiet it is (pokemon fleeing the crystalisation), eventually coming upon a terrifying crystal/metal version of the professor... as well as his students frozen in the crystals around him with expressions of fear.
I thiiiiink from here, it’s Director Clavell attempting to reason with the time machine that the children don’t deserve this. Especially since taking over the AI, the creature understands a whole lot more about the situation with the profs, arven, etc. So much so that Clavell manages to guilt it into releasing the kids, as well as promising to not release anymore future pokemon. AI prof however, is to remain its vessel. (I gotta draw this image in my head eventually, just think the crystalised profs and their evil robo eyes would look so cool.)
So Clavell manages to get the kids out and pays a whole lot more attention to their wellbeing etc. (Dad Clavell vibes lol). Area Zero is very much left alone after that.
TLDR: I kind of just want to see the profs turn into scary crystal monsters, see the kids get frozen, and have the director look on in horror dfklgsg. All ends well eventually though!
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golden--doodler · 1 year ago
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Currently still working on my newest Bob's Burgers comic (because Gene deserves love too! Okay, yes, he had Courtney, but still). Here's everything you need to know about my newest OC, AKA random facts no one asked for but I'm giving anyway:
--First off, he's kind of an amalgamation of several old OCs I made but never ended up using.
--Their full name is Alexis Emiliano Franklin-De La Vega. His super long name comes from the fact he's Guatemalan and his adopted parents have two different last names (he was born in Guatemala but then brought to the US and adopted when he was a baby).
--He's Nonbinary AMAB (Assigned Male At Birth) and uses He/They pronouns. He might change it to They/He once they're older, but I'm not entirely sure yet. They're also Androsexual. However, they always tell people they're Gay, because that label is usually easier for people to understand.
--Loves theater, making outfits (thrifting is so important to them), and all things flamboyant. They even have a small hobby of glassblowing, something they particularly love doing when they're stressed. This is why Gene loves them.
--Their favorite color is yellow (that color remind you of anyone? 👀), and their favorite book of all time is Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. They were so obsessed with it when they were young, they wanted to be Charlie so bad and meet Willy Wonka.
--He was born without a right foot and has a prosthetic so he can still walk. He was also born with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, meaning their joints are pretty loose, and they can't move and run around as fast or as much as other kids.
--They're actually an excellent baker, something they don't often bring up, because he's afraid of being judged for this hobby. However, when he does bake, he bakes the best chocolate chip cookies. They've also tried their hand at making Beignets in the past. This causes Bob to immediately take a liking to Alexis. They consider baking an art form.
--They have Perfect Pitch, something Gene is pretty jealous of, but also greatly admires.
--They're a Night Owl, and can't go to sleep any earlier than midnight. It's kind of a problem when he has school the next day, but on the weekends, he can just sleep in.
--Loves drawing and character designing, and so far has only shown his drawings to Gene, who loves his art. Sometimes, on the cover of the night, he likes to sneak out and paint gorgeous murals in certain places.
--Not great at picking up other languages, but has a knack for picking up specific accents. He can imitate things like an Irish or Cockney accent so perfectly it's almost scary. This serves him well in theater.
--In secret, he also loves watching Stand-Up Comedians (like John Mulaney or Ali Wong) and thinks they're great. He also loves watching sitcoms, even if the writing is terrible. He just loves anything that can make him laugh.
--Their adopted parents aren't supportive of the LGBTQ+ community, so once he realizes he has a crush on Gene, he has to keep it a secret from them. Their parents also don't know they're Non-Binary.
--Loves collecting vintage vinyl records, especially of things from the Jazz or Blues Age. They just love studying certain things related to vintage times, such as music, but also the fashion people had in the past.
--Has a crippling fear of heights because of an incident when he was young. He was at a state fair with his parents, and they got on the Ferris Wheel. It got stuck, and they had to stay there for hours until it started working again.
--Is a Vegetarian and has a low spice tolerance.
--Has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor which can put most people off, but Gene loves it. He says Alexis' sense of humor/general demeanor reminds him of Louise.
--Carries a stone in his pocket for good luck, especially before a theater performance, a habit he picked up from his adopted grandmother. He swears it's actually helped him in the past.
--Eventually bonds with Bob not only for their shared hobby of cooking/baking but also for loving rock and roll. Their general love for music and theater allows them to eventually bond with Linda.
--Has a job at Jimmy Pesto's (doesn't let Bob know because they know he would freak out), but hates working there. Also, their working there isn't exactly legal because of how young he is (their parents know Jimmy Pesto, so that's why he got hired in the first place). They only work there to earn some money, which his family definitely needs. They burned their hand working there once, and he doesn't even cook or go into the kitchen that often. It left a permanent scar on his hand.
--Wears black, rectangular glasses and is nearsighted and has an astigmatism.
--Enjoys Science Fiction, ET being one of his favorite movies (mainly because of how amazing the design of the puppet for ET is), but thinks the concept of aliens is pretty unnerving.
Finally, here's a little drawing of them, a sneak peek from a panel of the comic:
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thestobingirlie · 2 years ago
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hey, you can totally ignore this if you want (obvi), but i just need to get this off my chest. there's such a problem in steddie fics where they're outed. the other characters will breeze past their boundaries like they're nothing, esp dustin. it bothers me so much. i've been outed and it was terrifying and violating. it's also so disrespectful. it's a complete dismissal of their thoughts and feelings. i just don't understand how people can be so comfortable writing characters who dismiss other people's boundaries. it's always played off as humorous or as if it's nothing, like it doesn't even matter. and that's just so fucked up to me. it's terrible to take the control of coming out, out of someone’s hands. it's taking away safety. people write it for other things besides coming out, but either way, the dismissal of it all can get into your head so easily and it's fucking degradin, along with disrespectful and scary. idk, maybe i'm overreacting, but i still think it's fucked up and a problem. anyways, have a good evening or whatever time it is for you 💕
first, i just want to say that i’m really sorry you’ve experienced being outed, and i can’t imagine how horrible it felt.
now, i haven’t run into this trope much (because i very heavily vet every single steddie fic i read lol), but it’s really disgusting that it’s being treated so lightly.
i feel like a lot of st fics end up treating being queer in the 80s like it’s no big deal, even if they’re not meaning to, or at least treat being queer through a modern view (like all queer characters are totally knowledgable and know every sexuality etc). and it always sucks me out of the story.
i obviously don’t know for sure, but i feel like the people writing these fics probably aren’t writing them from a place of malice, and it’s more just “these people might not come out in 80s because of homophobia, so i’ll have this other character tell everyone instead”. they’re trying to get away from homophobia, and end up just treating coming out as if it means nothing.
i also think this tendency to need every single queer character to come out, comes from this growing expectation that anyone queer should come out, and if they don’t they’re lying and not living their truth. which is just a really terrible, flawed way of thinking. i think most of the characters wouldn’t come out, at least not for a good few years. like, i can’t imagine robin sitting the party down and letting them know she’s a lesbian. they’re good kids! but she has no idea how they would react.
but anyway! i do think it’s ironic that in a show that does centre at least somewhat around homophobia, the fandom often just forgets about it and writes characters behaving in a homophobic way, even if they aren’t really aware that’s what they’re doing.
also, this is somewhat off the point, but i am seeing this growing trend in dustin where people write him as just totally not respecting steve’s boundaries, even for dumb stuff. like in most st fics i read, dustin tells everyone about the hairspray steve uses, which is small! but it’s a secret steve trusted dustin with and told him not to tell anyone, and it bothers me that no one feels like that boundary of steve’s should be respected. like, i’m aware it’s mostly a joke, but it always feels like a joke that’s being made at steve, and not with him.
but anyway, yeah, i think people are increasingly treating coming out and being queer as no big deal when it is very important to people and is a choice that only that person can make, and unless they’re actually writing that character suffering the consequences of their actions, i don’t advise having one character out another.
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blindrapture · 2 years ago
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secretcity (4, 2, 1, respectively)
images taken from... probably the Sven Map DB pages, but I had them on an external hard drive for years.
One of these days, I will make videos of me playing secretcity. I will talk for hours about what these maps were and what it was like to grow up playing them alone. You cannot fathom it without first seeing how these maps were structured.
Like... imagine an ordinary office building in the goldsource engine. No monsters to shoot, no objective to fulfill, maybe there are some cute gags and easter eggs, but mainly it's just quiet ambience, faint voices, people you never see. And you are sure there is more to this, this is too small, this is hardly anything, just a fucking office building. So, frustrated, you take your crowbar and start whacking shit out of boredom.
One of the walls gives way. A brick is destroyed. So you keep at it, destroying more bricks. And it turns out there's a long dark passageway behind the wall.
So you climb in, you apprehensively see where this takes you. And it takes you somewhere else small, well-lit, and safe. Or maybe it takes you somewhere dark, with droning noises, and people in cages. Or maybe it takes you into a trap, as a giant red flashing screaming face "kills you mysteriously."
But either way, you end up back in the office building again.
Was.. was that it? Was that all to this map?
No. There are secret triggers. Like four or five mysterious buttons hidden around the office building, and they don't do anything. But when you hit all of them, another passageway opens up.
And this one takes you on a far longer path. Strange environment after strange environment, setpiece after setpiece, sprawling mazes (some with minotaurs, some eerily silent), platforms over black voids, rooms that are like an office building but Everything Is Wrong. And you keep going, through more and more Places....
secretcity takes you down a rabbit hole, but you have to find it first.
There's ambience in secretcity that can only be done in a video game and that no video game has ever done so effectively. Unnerving ambience. Eerily funny ambience. Gay furry porn hidden away in a lot of places. Never an explanation, never anyone to give you answers, and most of the maps were never even finished but they are all unfinished in the most fascinating of ways. They all imply that we might have gotten answers. (Then secretcitykeen, a "sequel" to 3 which is best played after all the numbered entries, gives us hints of what those answers would have been, and it's the most.. fucking... enticing in execution.)
secretcity is what a genuine Mystery looks like in video game format, rather than a mystery story given a video game as vehicle. secretcity is old and enigmatic and witty and wild. secretcity's imagery and themes have driven me as an artist. secretcity formed me as a gamer.
And hey, Sven Co-op is on Steam and it's free. If you install it, Browse Local Files, then add the contents of the secretcity zip files to your svencoop folder, then you can play them too. For free. :3
You can even play with me. It'd be easy as piss to set that up. And I would be thrilled to be your Tour Guide through the rabbit holes. So many rabbit holes.
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knowlesian · 2 years ago
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thinking about ed, and walls that become cages.
because we know ed is young when he kills his father; we can assume he’s just as young when he leaves home. young when he has to start fending for himself and keep the world not just at a distance but learn to bite back without crossing the fine line between being somebody’s eventual and immediate c.o.d.
that takes control. it takes a certain amount of planning. it takes understanding that people see what they want to see unless they’re looking carefully or you give them a reason to do otherwise.
because there’s no reason to disbelieve ed, when he confesses that to stede; we can have our own take on if he's defining murder right, but when it comes to ed the character with his own internal moral structure, he defines it so that the last person he killed personally was his father.
so the years with hornigold, pirate frat bro’ing it up with jack: nobody figures it out. he leaves home barely more than a kid, grows into a man in a culture where his line there would be anything but the accepted norm, and as far as we know nobody ever figures it out. he becomes the legend, he makes izzy his first mate; nobody knows.
he presents himself as blackbeard: legendary pirate. the kraken is his private shame, the thing he tells himself in his worst moments, and ed is who he is when he’s alone. blackbeard bridges the gap, in some ways, at the same time it protects him.
who would think blackbeard doesn’t kill? it’s ludicrous. he’s born of the devil. a million knives and guns and a head made of smoke. he has made himself so motherfucking scary all it takes is the evocation of his imagined wrath to make people surrender.
like ed said: he doesn’t even need to be on the ship.
the parts of piracy ed enjoyed— thinking fast in new ways and not the same old shit, equally new daring adventures, buckling some swashes and having gay sex via swordfights literal and colloquial that aren’t weird and depressing— are now basically all off the table.
he doesn't have to do much but run from one easy win to the next, maybe plot a daring escape in between, but it’s all the fucking same. he built blackbeard to protect himself; his secrets, his tender underbelly. and then he built blackbeard as a channel for his very real anger, because among the many rational responses to a lifetime of unfair bullshit is being pissed off about it.
violence isn’t ed’s instinct, but push people far enough and they push back. physical violence absolutely provided him a shield (nobody suspects the guy who chops off toes and make people eat them of not liking murder, because... that’s fucking terrifying holy shit that is MURDER BASEMENT territory, if you don't know all the secrets ed told stede, or we as an audience saw in flashback)  but it also provided an outlet for that anger.
he's older now; still angry, because the world is still fucked up, but no longer satisfied channeling everything into the same old expected patterns and only letting his other impulses bleed in around the edges until the world (or izzy) reminds him to pull it back in and be who he is supposed to be.
this is the problem of becoming blackbeard so nobody will be able to see ed, and the things he doesn’t want them to see; self-fucking-fulfilling prophecy. he needed blackbeard, once upon a time, but he’s outgrown blackbeard. it always hurt him, but it used to give him things he needed. 
the utility’s gone. all being blackbeard does is hurt him now and he wants to figure himself out beyond the boundaries of his legend but he built the foundations of said legend so well knocking them over also involves toppling pillars of identities that aren't even his.
it is an absolute goddamned pickle of a bitch of a Situation. i enjoy these writers a lot but also: ow?
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago
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indulge me
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indulge me: an arrangement
— Being a secret little girl in the modern world is rough, but it becomes much more chaotic when a classmate of yours offers to be your new daddy dom.
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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader
warnings: 18+, smut, nsfw, ddlg dynamic, college!au, modern!au, daddy!shouto, little girl!reader, I am not well versed in this dynamic please do not use this as an educational source, dom!shouto, sub!reader, biting, marking, mating press, nipple play (both), spanking, oral, gagging, choking, praise, degradation, little space
word count: 13,547
a/n: this is a commission for @bakusbiatch​ thank you for your endless amount fo patience as it took me 100x longer than ever to write this
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If there was something you knew now that you completely did not understand at the age of eighteen was the entire dynamics of sex. To be fair, after an adolescence of watching porn, reading erotica, and even gossiping between friends, it was, without doubt, that you were entirely clueless about real, healthy dynamics.
First off, the first time you had sex was super uncomfortable. 
There was no break or even space for pleasure to build in because you had been so tense, so awkward that you remained rigid and still the entire three minutes the guy fucked into you. You remember his sweat-soaked body collapsing on top of you, his eyes seeing galaxies in the stuffy, now smelly room as he breathed out a ‘Woah.’
You had smiled at him stiffly, letting his softening dick flop out of your dry vagina and curled in on yourself as he snuggled into you, praising the world and everything around it for this moment. It was without saying that you left his cum stained sheets and ran back home.
Sex sucked.
But that was when you were seventeen and made the terrible decision on fucking your friend with whom you had scary sexual tension. You avoided sex to your best ability after that, not so much as caring to allow anyone to touch you because that was disappointing. Why would you go through that when your fingers sufficed much better? Why go through that awkward tension when you didn’t have any moments of awkwardness when reading smut?!
Audios were better.
Words were best.
But, as one does, you fell in love against your will to a boy just a few months older than you. His smile was soft, and his words were kind, but oh, did his touch drive you hot and mad. You weren’t exactly sure how long you had lasted, how much perseverance you had kept when the two of you would fall onto his (thank fucking god) clean sheets, his strong hands and fingers keeping your hips close to his as you kissed him as if you couldn’t live without his touch.
“Are you… are you ready?” he had asked, his shirt thrown into the abyss of his room and the button of your jeans undone, revealing the simple set of panties you had on. “I don’t want to—”
“I’m ready,” you interrupt him, your body practically burning from the inside out with the desperate need and lust for him to fuck you. “I’m ready.”
He stills, his tongue peeking past his lips before a slow, chilling grin spreads against his mouth.
“Okay,” he nods, “can I ask you to do something, though?”
You, in your desperation to get his dick out of his sweats and buried deep into your throbbing cunt, nod.
“I have a daddy kink… I really, really like the daddy little girl dynamics,” he breathes, palms pressing to your knees and dragging down your inner thighs in a teasing, near authoritative way. “Can we… are you interested in trying it?”
Now, although you had largely avoided sex, toys and fingers weren’t nearly enough to replace the overwhelming need to be touched, fucked, and worshipped by another human being. You had fucked plenty of people who had always claimed to have kinks and fetishes. Most of the men you had in bed who said they had a daddy kink only liked being addressed as daddy; that was it. There was no true dynamic, just a play on the power the title brought them.
So, in the naive, childish way you were, you agreed.
You listened to his every command in bed, thrilled and keened under his praise for his princess, for his little girl, and you ate it up, thanking and praising your daddy. The sex ended with you cumming so hard you went blind for a moment, so dizzy from your high. As the both of you drifted off to sleep, you had no clue when you woke up in the morning he would present you with a little girl starter package made by him for you specifically. It was then that you realized that dynamics were an actual thing, and as he presented you a checklist of kinks, toys, and rules he laid out, you realized that nothing you had ever experienced — real or fictional — could have prepared you for this.
The two of you went through the list and rules together, your eyes widening and face blazing with embarrassment as he described his expectations and needs with this dynamic. You nodded, so completely lost in this entire thing that you agreed with most everything he offered and wanted.
The one rule you did have didn’t necessarily surprise him.
The dynamic was to remain a secret, you asserted, unable to budge on this thought. You could be his little girl, but it was to stay in private, never in public. And he tilted his head in thought but ultimately agreed with a smile. He thought you’d one day stop being in the closet over this kink, and you thought the opposite.
And time moves forward; it’s rigid and unforgiving. Two years into a relationship, a year and a half into the dynamic, you and your daddy break up, and you, against all odds, are left scrambling for a daddy you never realized you needed.
What was a girl to do?
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Your head is angled downward, and the hood that sits on your head is not concealing your face as well as you would have liked. It was without saying that you were a woman of pride. You took great care of what you did, how people viewed you, and how you presented yourself to the world. Most days, you always exited your small apartment as an excellent student who was always wearing properly done makeup and stylish outfits. 
Your style screamed confident woman (not little girl, you absolutely refused to wear anything cutesy in public), and you walked with your chin raised and eyes on the horizon.
To see that you were in sweats, an oversized hoodie, no makeup on, and perusing the store's area made for young girls and toddlers, was a shock. You had made sure to come nearly thirty minutes before closing; no one would be here to accidentally see you, no one could see you in your embarrassing shame-picking for your dynamic. All because your newest daddy couldn’t afford to buy you new things since your old ones had your ex’s name or brand all over it.
This was for the best; you reminded yourself as you haphazardly threw the items within the basket, face flaming as you ignored the temptation to simply stand in the aisle and flip through the sticker book and coloring book you recently tossed into the cart. You were fine; you already had your plan of action on what to say when purchasing these items.
‘My sister is pregnant again, and she already has a kid,’ you mentally rehearsed, imagining an excited smile on your face because you are excited for this imaginary pregnant sister of yours. ‘It’s a present for the baby and the brat.’
Solid.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Making sure to quickly take note of what was inside the basket, you spun on your heel and marched your way through the empty store to the deserted register.
You kept your head down as you placed the basket on the conveyor belt, easy peasy, you would be fine!
“Found everything you were looking for?” a voice asks, piercing through your mental rehearsal just in case you got questions. 
You blink, head raising up, exposing your face to the person behind the register.
It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal.
Checking things out at the register wasn’t supposed to be all that embarrassing. I mean, what could top having to buy pads and tampons from a creepy, greasy old man during your very first period ever?! But you had to admit seeing a familiar face behind the register as he began to scan the items in your cart kinda made it a big deal.
Todoroki Shouto read his name tag, and ‘TODOROKI SHOUTO?!’ screamed your heart. 
Oh, how to describe Todoroki Shouto, well you didn’t even know where to begin.
Shouto was one thousand percent a supermodel that has yet to be recruited. He could probably be a top star athlete, good enough to go overseas if he wanted. He was a genius. Someone who was somehow friends with everyone he came across even though he was a man of few words. 
He stood tall behind the register, the tight black high collared shirt sitting beneath a light blue opened dress shirt. His distinctive red and white slightly wavy hair — all-natural, you believe — pushed back in a way that you would bet to hell and back that he had run his fingers through it. For the past three years in university, you had more than a few classes with this stunning man. You two shared the same major, and he often sat at the back of the classroom, but you were nearly hyperaware of everything he did because his voice was liquid honey and sex and everything that was —
“You can let go of the basket,” Shouto cut through your thoughts, and you gasped loudly, suddenly realizing that you had zoned out thinking about him.
Your hand lets go of the basket, and you slap your sweater-covered hands over your mouth; horror strikes through you like a blazing sword. You weren’t wearing makeup, you were in trash clothes, and you were in front of a man you had lusting feelings over!
NO!
“Sorry!” you squeak, your heart and bile rising up your throat at alarming rates as Shouto merely smiles at you in understanding. “This is all stuff for my sister!”
Shouto blinks, his head tilting to the side as he scans a sippy cup.
“Your sister’s quite young,” he remarks easily, trying not to make you feel stupider—probably.
Tell the lie, y/n, you chide yourself as you shift your weight.
“Ah, well, not actually my sister,” you explain, fingers scratching against your scalp. “My sister is pregnant r-right now, and she already has a little one, so I thought that this would be a good… present?”
Nailed it.
Shouto’s eyebrows quirk, a small smile spreading across his face as he scans the plush doll. 
“That’s very kind of you; you must have a good relationship with your sister.”
“O-Oh yeah, we’re very close.”
“And would you say that this is something appropriate to give to a pregnant family member and their child?”
You froze and looked down at the items you had hastily thrown into the basket.
It was a pacifier, sippy cup, baby blanket, choker, coloring books, stuffed animal, candy, and stickers.
You choked, feeling heat exploding in your cheeks all over again; absolutely not. This was not something to give to a pregnant woman.
“My sister is pregnant,” Shouto explains, definitely sensing your poorly concealed stress, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m the youngest of my siblings, so I don’t really know what to buy her.”
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
Shouto blinked, and before you could start screaming apologies over your rudeness, he began laughing loudly. Your face continued to burn in your utter humiliation and shame, but Shouto only found amusement in this all as he began to place your items away in a bag. 
“What are your recommendations then?” Shouto finally asked, his lips pulled back into an easy, teasing grin. “And that’ll be forty-eight seventy-three.”
You shoved your card into the chip scanner immediately, your gaze everywhere but on him.
“I think you should get whatever your sister wants or still needs,” you quickly say, eyes now focusing on the Approved message on the machine. “Every person is different.”
“I suppose,” Shouto agrees, his arms crossing against his chest, and you have to resist the temptation to ogle at the way his muscles become sinfully pronounced. “Well, I won’t hold you up. See you in lecture tomorrow, y/l/n.”
“Bye!” you squawk, grabbing your bag and racing out.
His eyes burn into your back the entire rush out of the store, but you find that you can’t seem to worry about that. You’re much more elated and somehow horrified at the realization that he knew exactly who you were.
Step zero of who knows how many to get Todoroki Shouto to fall in love with you, complete!
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“So, about the upcoming paper assignment, I’m sure you’re all eager to get started on,” your professor’s voice boomed throughout the lecture hall, his arms folding across his chest as he leans against the podium with an easy grin. “I decided that I would be nice and allow for some partnering up!”
Your eyes widened as excited murmurs exploded through the classroom. 
Partners for a ten-page paper? You were going to thank god almighty. 
But, at the same time, you frowned. This was a class where you didn’t exactly know anyone. It was a course outside of your own major, and with your usual friends not in this class, you knew that you were going to have to go out of your way to find a partner. You withered a bit in your chair, not entirely on board with that train of thought.
“There are an uneven amount of you guys in the class, though,” your professor continued, still sporting that easy grin on his face. “And I decided that instead of having too many groups of three, and because I was so nice to allow partner work, I decided to make the partners. Look at the pinned paper at the door for your partner or partners for the group of three! No, I will not allow trades, and no, I will not allow complaining! Be grateful!”
Hopeful and exasperated murmurs sounded through the room as the professor dismissed the class and frantic movement followed after. Even as old as they were, everyone was desperate and eager to see who a random generator assigned them to. Packing up swiftly, you threw your bag over your shoulder and began walking towards the list. 
You wonder who you were gonna get.
“Y/l/n,” a voice spoke softly, lowly by your ear.
You whipped around — one part startled, a second part curious — and came to see Todoroki Shouto standing slightly behind you. His gaze was at the wall for a moment, dropping only when you were looking up at him. He smiles slowly, and you feel your chest tighten.
Oh boy.
“Todoroki,” you smile, attempting to relax completely in front of him. “Any hopes as to who’s your partner?”
“Well, as long as it isn’t Sero, I think it’ll be okay,” Shouto’s eyes crinkle with his deepened smile. “Last time I did a paper with him, we did it completely high—” you choke, eyes widening at the thought of trying to be eloquent enough to write a paper while high. “—It was terrible.”
“Oh, I bet,” you laugh, arms crossing across your chest as the two of you begin inching forward within the crowd, others leaving with proud laughs, curious frowns, or aggravated groans. “But at least it sounds like it was turned in?”
“It was,” Shouto nods, his teeth flashing as he finally tears his gaze from you. “Oh, would you look at that?”
You hum, eyes squinting as you try to read the list through the many heads before you.
Y/l/n, Todoroki S.
“Would you look at that.”
“Seems like we’re partners,” you laugh, relief and horror flooding your body.
“I’m glad it’s you.”
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So, it was decided that with the two weeks given to write the paper and taking Shouto’s job into account, this paper was to be written as soon as possible. The suggestion of working on it together in the same room and not just through google doc was brought up and agreed upon. So with consensus on that, the matter of where it was going to happen was brought up.
“We can do it at my place,” Shouto offered with a shrug, “my house is pretty big.”
“I don’t have a car,” you interject, a frown on your face — you wanted to see his house. “My apartment is five minutes from campus. Is that alright?”
A smile.
“That’s perfect.”
And so, on a Friday afternoon, you found yourself already apologizing profusely as you walked up the staircase that smelled just a tiny bit of cheese. You warned him about the mess of your apartment. About how not to judge you on any and all messes you might have made on your way out! That you would have cleaned up had you known this was happening!
“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Shouto spoke, attempting to ease your anxiety as you push your key in the doorknob and turn it. “I really don’t mind a messy place.”
“Ha, well, this is it,” you say, your face feeling disgustingly warm as you breach the entrance to your small one bedroom one bathroom place. “Leave your shoes right there, and we can head in!”
Toeing off your own shoes, you scrambled into the apartment, eyes wide as you attempted to make sure that nothing was crazily messy or out of place. There wasn’t any dirty laundry or undergarments anywhere? No, good!
Shouto locks the door behind himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat vibrating in his chest as he watches you skirt about. He looks down at the shoes you were wearing, white sneakers, and smirks at how small they look compared to his. He never really thought he was that tall or big, to be honest. It was a decent size for someone from his family, but it amused him greatly to see his things pushed against yours.
He looked back up, eyes landing on your flustered face as you stood by a table in the kitchen area.
“Ready?” he asked, hands shoving into his pockets.
“I believe so!”
And for some reason, probably the very same reason that had him entranced by you, Shouto laughs and steps foot into your apartment.
The paper itself isn’t that hard.
It’s an argumentative piece mostly on a Green Act proposal that was currently being debated within the government body. A paper that was fifty percent argument was something you were elated to have, but the other fifty percent was using sources and articles to further back your point. It was now two hours into the paper writing, takeout filling the empty spaces between the table as Shouto’s laughter and your ranting filled the open air. It was nice; he was nice to hang out with.
“I’m just saying we are nearing a universal climate disaster, and I do not want to be wondering when I will die because some fat old men with huge wallets want to continue getting richer!” you yelled, your chest heaving with your lack of proper air. “It’s dumb!”
“I bet if you grabbed ahold of their favorite toupees, they’d fold and agree,” Shouto teases, his grin covered by the mug he’s currently drinking tea from. “I’ll bail you out of prison.”
“I wouldn’t go to prison for that,” you argue, arms folding across your chest as you shake your head in solemn understanding. “They’d murder me and make it look like an accident.”
“Dark.”
“You know it.”
“I’ll avenge you.”
“You better, or else I’ll blame you for my murder.”
Shouto’s jaw dropped, ready to retaliate with something else, but he was interrupted by a loud call from your phone. You frowned, head tilting as you pulled your phone out from your jean pocket and stared at the screen.
Incoming call from: dd.
“I have to take this,” you say apologetically, standing up as you answered the call. You waited until you were in your bedroom before placing the phone to your head, your heart hammering with the unknown. “Hello?”
.
Shouto heard the click of your bedroom door, and he sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, momentarily bored now that he wasn’t with you. He wondered who ‘dd’ was and if you were alright. He hoped it wasn’t anything serious.
Grabbing his water cup, Shouto frowned, seeing that it was empty. He looked over at the sink where you had initially filled up the water cups. You wouldn’t mind if he filled it up on his own, right? Shouto pushed back his chair and stood, the cup resting in his fingers as he walked over towards the sink with a light hum.
He filled the cup slowly, not wanting to make too much noise. But as he stared at the drying dishes on your dish holder, he frowned at the sight of the pink sippy cup you had bought from the store last week. It was cleaned, obviously used, and he tilted his head.
Weird.
The cupboard was open, and Shouto couldn’t help but look into the dark wood and startled once again when he took in the neatly folded bib and the nearly innocuous pacifier sitting on top of it. Untouched, undisturbed, but used — definitely used.
Frowning, he took a slow, long drink of his water as he stared out towards the small living room you had. There, sitting on the wood coffee table, was the coloring book you had also purchased. That wasn’t adding up… if they were for your sister’s kids, why were they here? It didn’t exactly seem like the place to be holding them. 
Shouto thought, trying to figure out just why you had all these things for… well, children.
Was testing products on your own a thing people did?
Well, yes, he supposed so, but these were already licensed products. The coloring book, well, he guesses that was a pretty normal thing! Drawing and coloring were everyday stress relieves — his mother often used that to help herself. But a pacifier, a bip, and a sippy cup? The only thing he could rationalize with that was—
“You’re being fucking ridiculous, daddy!” your voice harshly whispered (maybe ridiculed and mocked) from your room, just loud enough that Shouto heard, and his eyes widened.
Oh.
Ohh fuck.
.
.
.
“You know what, this isn’t working,” you scoff, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you roll your eyes to the heavens above. “This was a good trial run, but I’m going to have to end this. This is not what I was looking for.”
“Come on, brat, you know you don’t mean that—”
You hung up, your fingers curled in a fist as you growled lowly at the screen. You wasted no time in blocking the number. What a fucking terrible daddy he was. Didn’t buy you anything, didn’t support you, or help you. There was no dynamic in this relationship. It was just a power-hungry dom with a streak for being called daddy.
A fucking poser at best.
Rolling your eyes, you tossed your phone onto your bed and walked out of your room back to the main area of your place. You looked at Shouto, who was sitting in his chair, his face bored, maybe a bit tired, and his face was concentrated on his phone — he was idly scrolling through it.
“Sorry that took so long,” you apologize, slinking back onto your chair, hands rubbing your face. “I tried to be fast about that.”
Shouto peered past the top of his phone, a comforting smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it; it wasn’t like we were intensely working on the paper anyways.”
You smile, slightly embarrassed. 
“That’s true, um—”
“I think it’s time—”
The both of you spoke over each other clumsily, awkwardly — both of you obviously thinking of something that wasn’t quite in front of you. Your smile feels less forced now, “we’re done for the day?”
Shouto shifts in his chair, his head dropping slightly in agreement, “I think that would be best. We did a lot today, though.”
“We did!” you agree with a laugh, standing up and grabbing the items off the table, assisting Shouto with getting ready to leave. “We’ll meet back up in two days?”
Shouto nods, “that sounds like a plan.”
You help him pack up, insisting that you could clean up the kitchen without his help. It takes a few minutes, but finally, you have him walking out of your place, a light wave on your hand before he exits onto the staircase. You close the door with a sigh.
Jesus Christ.
.
.
Shouto stands in the stairway, his eyes concentrated on his phone where he has a single question typed into his browser.
ddlg dynamics ↳ Let’s talk DDLG, also known as Daddy Dom Little Girl. It’s a submissive/dominant relationship where the dom is known as a “Daddy,” and the submissive is known as a “Little Girl.”
...Interesting.
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Now, you were a pretty paranoid person; you could admit that. 
You didn’t like being paranoid, but you were. Most days, you always triple-checked you weren’t being followed, quadruple-checked you had your school assignments turned in and your things in your bag. With your sex life and part of your social life being introduced to the ddlg dynamic, your paranoia grew even more.
Most people weren’t understanding — they weren’t. They assumed this dynamic was simply calling your dom daddy in bed and getting called princess in return! They always believed that, allowed for that. It was socially acceptable to call your dom daddy in bed, but god fucking forbid any other part of the dynamic come into play.
You remember reading comments in articles about grown women sitting in frilly skirts and diapers as part of her dynamic and watching grown adults tear her apart — skin and bones. That was the reaction you feared, you hated.
There was a reason why you enjoyed sitting in your frilly skirts, in your white and baby pink clothes. You loved having your dom come home, tired and stressed, and ask you, his little girl, to sit on his lap while he distressed. You enjoyed the sippy cups that helped to melt your anxiety, and you enjoyed doing chores under your doms watchful eye.
The praises, the rewards were always so uplifting, and the sex was always on an intensity that made you tremble with explosive satisfaction. If your dom wanted you in diapers, you would negotiate appropriately, and you sure as hell didn’t need a fucking stranger’s opinion on whether or not that was ‘normal.’
But no amount of confidence you had in your dynamic had ever eased the bottomless paranoia and anxiety. 
Hence why after Shouto had left your apartment and you realized in horror that you had left out some damning evidence to your dynamic. The coloring book on your coffee table and the sippy cup that was obviously used were on full display. You wondered for a few hours, nearly spirling with anxiety if he had noticed — if that was why he was partially stiff as he left for the day. You had only managed to calm down when he had sent you a text later that night that he had enjoyed being over and was looking forward to working together the next day.
The praise was needed, seeping warm into your bones as you rolled over in your bed and knocked out.
You thought that you were in the clear. That that was as far as things were going to go, but your paranoia came back the next day in full force as you sat in a group with Shouto.
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“Do you want a sticker?”
That was the beginning of it all.
You had accepted the sticker without a second thought. Your typical barriers down because the lack of a dom in your life was throwing you for a bit. God, you were pathetic. You had smiled brightly, eagerly nodding as you thrust your hands out towards Shouto, waiting to receive a sticker. 
“Good job,” he had said with an endearing smile, “you deserve it.”
It was only then that the weight of what happened settled on your bones, and you froze.
Fuck.
Smiling stiffly, you pressed the sparkly pink star to your shirt and returned back to your assignment, unable to speak up again for some time.
You had hoped that it was going to end there, but it seemed that nothing about your life was going in your favor right now. 
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���Do you have a bedtime?” Shouto idly asked one late night when he was over, and you could not stop yawning to save your life. “I think everyone should go to bed at 10 p.m. on a school night, don’t you agree?”
You had choked on your saliva before disagreeing vehemently. 
“I don’t sleep until… like, um, three in the morning?” you make up, teeth tearing into your lip as you avoided eye contact.
“Such a bad girl,” Shouto murmured, much too low for you to pick up.
“What?!”
“That’s bad for your health,” he recovered with a smile.
“Oh… yeah, I suppose so.”
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“Y/l/n is a sub; she’s a brat about that,” Shouto said to the group you both were assigned to in yet another class the two of you shared.
You had been idly drinking from your coffee cup and was utterly zoned out when he said that. So when you had picked up his words, you nearly choked at the sentence, your eyes watering and your throat burning with your drink and humiliation as the entire table turned to look at you.
“Oh shit, are you okay?!” Mina asked, eyes wide.
“I’m a what?!” you splutter instead, eyes focused on Shouto and your cheeks beginning to burn with unsaid fear.
“You’re a substitute babysitter for your sister,” Shouto remarked, his head tilted as he feigned innocence. “You were telling me about that the other day, remember? Sero is trying to get into the babysitting gig too.”
You wanted to believe him, you wanted so desperately to believe that Shouto was just somehow landing a missile into every paranoid corner of your life without meaning to, but this was getting out of control. This was too on the head, too obvious to not say that he somehow saw your little things and pieced together the dynamic you’ve come to love and thrive in. But you couldn’t fess up; you wouldn’t give yourself to the wolves of embarrassment and shame over something you knew wasn’t wrong.
“Oh,” you say stiffly, smiling over at Sero, “I’m on an app that is used a lot by small families; I can text you the name?”
“I’d appreciate that!” Sero laughs, blissfully unaware of the rising tension between you and Shouto. “I didn’t think that high school girls had some type of business turf thing; they’re scary and aggressive!”
“It’s a serious job for high schoolers,” Mina waved him off, “this is the only thing most of them can do!”
The conversation between Sero and Mina began to drift off as you were staring at Shouto, unable to break the eye contact the both of you found yourselves connected by. You didn’t want to pull away, too bitter and anxious to. You were currently two weeks without a daddy dom in your life, and you knew that you should be able to have a better grasp on your life than this — you knew you couldn’t lean on this dynamic at every point in your life. But you were sad to admit that you were struggling to keep your head afloat. You felt like you were almost drowning, struggling to keep your composure as you needed a play or a simple scene.
But the confidence in Shouto’s eyes that were hidden behind the sheer curiosity and wonder was making your skin itch, making you want to grab him by the collar and bring him in close and demand to know exactly what he was thinking. 
He would not embarrass you.
He would not.
“Can I talk to you, Todoroki?” you asked, practically demanded of Shouto as the group of you began to stand at the table, readying to leave. 
If you noticed Mina’s and Sero’s eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling, you didn’t say anything as Shouto paused in putting things into his backpack. His head tilted, but he nodded his head, “yeah, about what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile stiffly, tossing your own backpack over your shoulder as you turn on your heel and immediately begin walking. Uncaring if he was following you or not. “Bye, Mina, Sero.”
There’s silence behind you before the heady sound of a chair scraping against the floor is heard and the long, quick strides of Shouto following after you. You exit the cafe you had been in, eyes squinting when the harsh rays of sun fall on your face, but you don’t hesitate or pause even once.
There’s no one outside right now; it’s just you and Shouto. 
You feel him at your shoulder, and you keep your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to look at him just yet. 
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” you finally whisper, your voice low and angry. You nearly spat them out at him, utterly humiliated and horrified that you were probably outing yourself should he just be that dense and annoyingly able to pick at your anxiety. “Stop it.”
“I don’t—” Shouto began, eyes wide and screaming of innocence that could make you cry.
“I know you saw my things, and I know you pieced it together,” you cut him off, your lips pursed tight. You suddenly stop in your tracks, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn to face Shouto. “So if you have a problem with that, I suggest that you kindly fuck off!”
Shouto stands next to you, hair hastily swept backward, hand on the strap of his bag, and his face telling you that you had miscalculated something. You prayed it wasn’t about how he knew about you being a little.
“I don’t have a problem with that,” Shouto admits, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck. “I don’t think you’re weird or strange or bad for being into the ddlg dynamic. I’m actually… I take part in it too. I was trying to subtly tell you that I was into it as well, and well, I heard that you and your last dom broke it off… I wanted to tell you that I was interested in becoming your new dom.”
You blink.
“Eh?!”
“I’m interested in forming an agreement with you?” Shouto tilts his head; there’s a sense of seriousness to his face, his eyes innocent. “I need a little, and if you’re looking for a dom…”
He lets the silence fill the rest of his sentence, and your mouth gapes open as blood rushes to your face at the straightforward request.
“I… I barely know you!” you splutter, your heart in your ears as you can barely comprehend what was going on. 
Two weeks ago, Todoroki Shouto was practically a stranger. You knew him about as well as a person knew the barista at their favorite coffee shop. Friendly, but not close. Definitely not close enough for you to say that you would allow for him to see you in your little space, for him to give you a list of rewards and punishments — for possible sex?!
“Most caregiver contracts like this are done between people who know even less,” Shouto shrugs, his arms folded across his chest. “You don’t have to say yes now or even agree, but I like you a lot. I want to pursue a relationship with you, and I assumed that this would be a good starting ground especially if you need it.”
Your tongue sweeps across your lips, unable to come up with a single rationale thing to say. 
“I don’t need an answer right now; indulge me, though,” Shouto smiles softly, his gaze dropping for a moment. “Take as much time as you need. We can do a single scene to test it out, and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. Let me know when you’re interested in it, though.”
You can’t say anything; you can only numbly nod as Shouto smiles at you once again.
“Let me know.”
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Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [received Today 23:44]
Todoroki S.: ↳ If you need a list, I’ll send mine over whenever you want. I have my rules, rewards, punishments, and kinks all supplied in it. [seen 7 Days Ago 23:44]
You: ↳ Send your points, we can see if we’re compatible. [seen now]
Todoroki S.: ↳ I enjoyed the scene we did today; I hope you did too. I’m interested in making this a real thing if you are too. [received Today 20:44]
You: ↳ I did, too, actually, lol. Um, thank you, first of all! We can work on the contract now. [received Today 20:48]
Todoroki S.: ↳ Okay. I’ve already made the first draft of one; if you’d like to look it over, let me know what you think, and we can edit some things around. [seen now]
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It has been two months since the contract was signed.
Two months.
Two months of Shouto practically living in your apartment with you, a once stranger seeing you at your most vulnerable. He was a steady hand on your back as you slipped into your desired little space, a constant warmth at your side as you went about your day at home. 
It had been weird at first; your anxiety still wouldn’t let up, nearly convincing you many times that this was all but a prank. That Shouto would pull away from you when you least expected it and would expose you to the world. There had been many times where he would hold you on his lap, his arms warm around your back, your favorite stuffed animal sitting on your lap as he promised you that you were wrong.
“Daddy is here to protect you, sunshine,” Shouto murmured in your ear, his warm lips pressing to the small behind your ear. “Daddy would never do that to my baby girl. That wouldn’t make me happy.”
“I-It wouldn’t?” you sniffled, your nose face nuzzling further into his neck as your sobs had finally stopped. 
“No, not at all, sunshine,” Shouto smiled against the crown of your head. You felt his lips press a soft kiss there, his warm hands stroking up and down your back. “Do you remember what makes Daddy happy?”
You blink, your wet eyelashes heavy and sticking together as you peer at his jaw as if it could possibly tell you.
“I can’t… I can’t remember, sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle again, suddenly terrified that he would be upset with you. You were such a terrible baby girl.
“What makes Daddy happy is seeing his baby girl smiling, happy, protected, and safe,” Shouto easily relays, pulling you away from his shoulder, his calloused fingers rubbing the tear streaks that still stain down your face. “I promise that I will never do anything to cause you harm, sunshine. I only want you to be happy; you being happy makes me happy like nothing before.”
There’s no stopping the way your bottom lip trembles with the pleasant weight of his words, the way it warms you from your belly and curls to your toes.
“Pinky promise?” you whimper, somehow out of breath.
Shouto looks at your curved pinky that is extended out for him to hold, to seal the other half of a promise he has no intentions of ever breaking.
Smiling softly, Shouto wraps his pinky with yours and twists it gently, locking the promise.
“Pinky promise,” he affirms, placing a kiss to your knuckles.
.
.
He was so good to you.
So sweet, gentle, patient, and kind.
He tended to spend the night Mondays through Fridays, giving you the weekend to be on your own. He only ever slept in your bed with your given consent (which was every single time), and there was just something about wearing the silver chained choker on your neck that he bought for you. Dainty and cute, nothing too crazy to draw overwhelming attention.
It had a tiny cherry blossom that was engraved with Shouto on the back.
It was a constant and calming reminder of what you had during the day.
The arrangement was going better than you had assumed it was going to be.
Shouto made for an excellent daddy, but there was one grievance you had. With two months of extreme kinship, so many nights of being curled into his side, getting near-daily cuddles for following his orders perfectly, and a few spanks because you were careless even after he warned you — you had assumed that the sexual part of the dynamic would come out. 
You had okayed for him to be able to fuck you, regardless of whether or not you were in little space! You reached your little space more often than not around him because he was so well, but now you were bordering desperation. You wanted your daddy to please you more, to give you the reward you wanted most: his cock.
“I’m home, bunny,” Shouto called out, his voice hinting exhaustion but mostly satisfaction at being home again.
Per your rules and regulations, greeting Shouto with a cheerful ‘welcome home, daddy!’ when he arrived home was a must. It was a clear indicator that not only were you home but that you wished to indulge in the dynamic for the rest of the day.
But you sat at the coffee table wearing an unapproved, not chosen outfit for home.
You were wearing an off-the-shoulder white cotton shirt that was big and soft, pink lace shorts that barely covered your ass but was hemmed with lace and pretty frill. You had thigh highs on as well that were the same pink as your shorts. There was a pacifier in your mouth, your gaze focused on the Disney coloring book in front of you as you colored in Sleeping Beauty. 
You turned your head, eyes looking at your daddy with a vague look of disinterest before turning back to your coloring.
“I said ‘I’m home,’ bunny,” Shouto restated, giving you the benefit of the doubt of whether or not you heard him. Typically you were excited to have him home, going to his side immediately and asking a million questions as to what he had been doing and why he was home so late. 
“Hmph,” was your response as you placed a sticker onto the coloring page.
Shouto’s eyebrows furrowed; he toed off his shoes and began walking towards you, assessing what was happening. 
“Is my bunny mad that I was a bit later than I had promised?” he asked, sitting on the couch behind you, his fingers brushing across your clothes as if he was trying to remember if he had selected this outfit. But the sudden touch that you were craving in a way like no other made your head spin just so, and you resisted the motion of caving.
You wanted to be a brat! Your daddy should be taking care of all your needs! He promised he would be taking care of you better than you took care of yourself! He should know when you wanted his cock!
“Hmph!” you hrmph again, and you lean out of his touch even though you craved it. 
Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel the slow, calculating blink Shouto took at this action. There’s a moment of silence before the couch sounds under his shifting weight. You freeze at the feeling of his warm palm on your spine, a whisper of danger. It feels partially like a threat, a reminder of impending consequences.
“What did daddy say about bunny using her words?” Shouto asks, his voice stern, low, commanding. 
It should scare you, but the threat in his voice makes your heart stammer and your cunt wet. So, instead of doing what’s right, you stand up, ignoring him yet again as you stick your nose up to the ceiling and try to walk away. 
Well, you try to, that is.
Before you can go too far, Shouto’s fingers are wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.
 “You know I don’t like it when you don’t speak, right?” Shouto asks, his eyes digging into your cheek as you refuse to look at him. Yet another rule he has in place. You had to look at him when he spoke to you or when you spoke to him. It was to help make sure that you behaved properly in public — to make you the best baby girl ever. “Use your words and look at me, princess.”
The word princess rolled off his tongue, and you bit down on your tongue to keep the breathy moan from expelling from your lips. He typically only used princess when you were on the verge of genuinely displeasing him, when he was warning you one last time before a punishment was given. Your daddy was two months without jacking off, exhausted from work, and now dealing with you, his bratty baby girl. There was no way this wasn’t going to end with him forcing you to suck him off or to use you as an onahole (something you had said was okay unless you used your safeword, of course).
You shook in his hold, teeth biting your lip as you stared at the wall, refusing to heed his command.
“I’ll give you to the count of three to look at me and address me,” Shouto says, his thumb stroking the innard of your wrist. “One.”
There was no way you would cave.
“Two.”
The silence between the two of you was heavy.
“One.”
Excitement shot through you at the thought of him finally fucking you into your mattress.
“No dessert tonight,” is what Shouto said instead, and you froze.
You whipped your head towards Shouto, fury, and humiliation painting your face as your jaw drops, the pacifier falling onto the floor.
“No!”
“No?” Shouto repeats, his eyes narrowed, unhappy with the challenge. “Do you want me to take away your video games too?”
“No!” you shriek, hands clawing at your face because this was not going the way it was going. “I want my dessert and my video games!”
“Too bad, princess,” Shouto states sternly, unaffected by your growing tantrum. “You lost them both for tonight.”
“No! Give them back! I haven’t done anything wrong, daddy!” you scream, throwing your arms in your hysterics as Shouto stands up to his full height, looming over you without a single issue. Tears prick at the back of your eyes because you’ve messed up somehow; your daddy doesn’t want you — doesn’t love you the way you love him.
“You’ve been misbehaving this entire time I’ve come back home,” Shouto retorts, his other hand grabbing your wrist and managing to place them both close to his chest, limiting your thrashing actions. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the new outfit.”
“I don’t want those punishments, daddy! I don’t want t-them,” you wheeze, your eyes locked on your hands that are bound so tightly in his hands, and you whimper loudly. “You’re hurting me, daddy!”
“And you’re trying to hurt me,” Shouto calmly points out. “I can’t have you doing that, so I’ll hold onto you until you calm down enough. I’m doing this because I care for my little brat.”
“You don’t care! You don’t c-care!” you sob finally, unable to keep the hot tears from your eyes. “Daddy doesn’t care about me!”
The effect is evident and instant.
Shouto’s grip on your wrist lessens altogether, and your pounding fists finally connect with his chest as you collapse against him.
“Daddy doesn’t c-care…”
“That’s not true,” Shouto breathes easily, his fingers brushing against your sides before his arms wrap around you. “I care so much for you, baby. What’s wrong? Tell me what I can do to make things better.”
A loud sniffle emits from you, and you fist your hands in his shirt, your head shaking. 
“It’s been two months, and daddy won’t let me have his cummies,” you whisper, terrified that he would reject you. “Am I not good enough? Attractive enough that daddy wants to reward me with his dick?”
There’s a shift in the air.
“My little doll wants her daddy’s cock, is that what?” Shouto murmured against the top of your head. “My precious, innocent baby girl wants something filthy like that.”
“Mmn,” was all you could manage, your face burning at the implications, the suggestion in his voice. 
“And instead of using her words, as we practice, she decided to act like a little brat to get her way,” Shouto’s voice is low, raspy, and deep. Its tenor is just right that it makes the room instantly hotter, your body brimming with excited energy. “I think… my beautiful doll has broken too many rules for me to just give her a good reward. She deserves to be my little doll as punishment for now. I thought she was grown enough to ask for things she wanted.”
You gasp as Shouto’s warm, calloused hands drop down to the minimally exposed flesh between your booty shorts and your thigh highs. It sends an entire wave of goosebumps down your skin, and you shudder as they rise upwards, slipping under your shirt and resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 
“Your punishment will be what daddy wants it to be, doll,” Shouto states, his fingernails brushing over your clothed nipples, and you mewl at the touch. “You’ve given up your right to speak right now, and because daddy can’t trust you to not be a brat, you will suck daddy’s dick until I see it fit. You will stand on your knees like the beautiful doll daddy knows you can be. Silent, obedient, and so beautiful.”
The words are a goldmine you’ve wanted to hear this entire time, but you’re upset — rightfully upset — that it took your daddy so long to figure it out! He needed you to spell it out for him to act on it!
“I don’t like sucking dicks!” you complain, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “That’s yucky!”
Shouto raised an eyebrow at that, his eyes flashing dangerously as he absorbed the implications of your actions. He knew he was going to earn this just as much as you were.
“Excuse me?” Shouto says calmly, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you want to repeat that?”
“You heard m-me,” you stammer, trying to remain steady under his steady stare. “If daddy couldn’t catch that, maybe I should be the one giving out the punishments.”
A hot, predatory smirk pulls across his face as his grip on your wrist tightens, and he yanks you just slightly closer towards him.
“Oh really?” he chuckles so coldly you shiver. “So you think you’re in charge here?”
You nod slowly, your pupils wide and blown. Your eyes were transfixed on his mouth, his pretty plump lips practically calling your name. 
His tongue swipes across his front teeth, and you watch him in awe, horror, and damning horny anticipation as he sits back on the couch and takes you down with him. You struggle for a bit, terrified as you feel unbalanced, ready to tumble to the floor. But your stomach is pressed heavily against his knees, pleasurable discomfort spreading through your body as you recognize this easy, beautiful spanking position. 
“I’m going to give you ten spanks,” Shouto announces, his hand rubbing smooth circles over your soft shorts. “You will count every one of them and thank me for each one. If you mess up, if you misbehave, you will get more until you do as I demand.”
You struggle against his hold, thrashing and twisting as his fingers push the shorts higher up your ass, exposing your flesh to him. But as he did so, you remember that you’re not wearing panties, and Shouto sees that too.
“Mm, you’re not wearing panties,” Shouto says, his voice trying to keep the undying want and lust from bleeding through his tone. “My precious doll is that desperate she couldn’t fully dress herself?”
“I can d-dress— aahhh!!!!”
Your interjection was interrupted by the sharp, well-practiced spank that Shouto delivered to your round ass. You arched against his lap, your skin tingling and feeling pathetically good. 
“I said you were my doll right now, and dolls don’t speak unless given permission to,” Shouto clipped, his hand circling your now tender flesh. “You didn’t count, so let's try again.”
SLAP.
“Oh my god!” you shriek at the contact, your head spinning at the craved touch. It wasn’t like his typical spanks, the ones that came down not to hurt but to remind you, to correct you to be better. These stung with power, reminding you that you were getting what you craved, and you felt your toes curl and your cunt beginning to seep with the knowledge.
Fuck, you wanted this.
THWACK.
“Again.”
THWACK.
“Daddy can spank your pretty little ass all day, doll. Do as you’re told if you want daddy’s cock.”
SPANK.
“O-One, thank you, daddy!”
WHACK!
You threw your head back at the sensation, your eyes crossing and your hips bucking backward as you shriek with pleasure. You don’t count, your head swimming with unfound energy, and Shouto tsks.
“You’re so terrible at following directions, aren’t you?” Shouto asks, his mouth hovering by your ear, and you nearly melt when his teeth tug at your cartilage at the same time he serves another heated spank to your perky ass. “Such a dirty brat, getting off on her punishments. But let me tell you, if you don’t start following what I instruct of you, I’ll fuck your mouth and leave you without any cummies.”
You gasp loudly, sobbing as he delivers yet another solid spank for your undoubtedly bruising ass. And so, with a pathetic, desperate nod, you agree.
You count to ten, thanking him each time with a beautiful sob that makes the bulge in his pants obvious to you. Your lips are swollen, bruised, and sheen with saliva from holding back your louder sobs. Your ass seems to be imprinted with the shape of his hand against your skin, and you tumble off his lap at the final thank you.
There’s slick gathered on your shorts, soaking through the pretty pink fabric turning it dark. 
“I forget that my beautiful baby girl is a masochist,” Shouto sighs as he stands up in front of you. You gasp on the floor, your head swimming with the building heat between your legs, and you hear an all too familiar, always exciting, sound of a belt being undone followed quickly by a zipper and rustling fabric.
“God, you’re so wonderful, doll,” Shouto sighs as he pulls out his hardening cock to where you’re already on your knees with wide, curious, hopeful eyes. “Already on your knees, ready to choke on daddy’s cock even though this is a punishment.”
You can barely register his words, your eyes focused and fascinated — scared almost — of the cock Shouto has. It’s fucking huge, and it’s thick, slightly curved upward with a pretty flushed tip and bulging veins. You were sure if you could even manage to take more than a few inches in!
“I think I remember something about how you don’t like deep throating,” Shouto hums contemplatively. You freeze, your heart stopping for just a moment at what he’s implying. “Well, it’s a good thing this is a punishment.”
His fingers press into your mouth, making you choke, and with your lips spread wide, mouth open for taking, Shouto guides his cock into your parted lips with a dangerous moan. 
There's an immediate ache in your jaw, the size, and girth of his cock overwhelming you without so much doubt. You gag immediately at the weight of it pressing on your tongue, filling your mouth. Heat hammers in your cunt, and you heave against him.
Shouto sighs as if he was in heaven, his hands grabbing the back of your head and slamming your head as far down his cock. So far that your nose brushed against the skin of his stomach, before pressing against it completely. 
Shouto moans louder than your panicked gags and chokes, his hips swirling and twisting as he looks down at you with lovesick eyes. “You’re so good at this,” Shouto praises, his fingers wiping away the tears that prick at your eyes. “So good.  Daddy’s so pleased with you, taking my cock so well. So beautiful even when you cry on my dick.”
Your throat spasms around his cock, your lungs burning severely from the lack of oxygen. Not a single part of your body able to relax as you desperately sought to breathe. It hurt, but it felt so good. Saliva began to pool from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin and drooling on your clothed breasts.
Shouto took notice and hummed contently.
“Daddy’s going to count to the number ten,” he informed you, rolling his hips further into your mouth, shoving his cock even further down your throat than you thought possible. “If you can keep your pretty nose pressed to daddy’s stomach the entire time, daddy promises you he will give you the best orgasm you’ve ever received.”
You made a squeaking noise around his cock, your fingers that were buried into his shirt gripping tighter as he suddenly lets go of your head.
“One.”
Resisting the urge to pull off him completely was a near-losing battle.
“Two.”
Your body shook with intensity, the scorching need to properly breathe slamming down on you.
“Three… four…”
Shouto’s hands began to pet your head, soothing the worried lines on your face, brushing away your tears.
“Five… six… fuck, you’re so gorgeous, baby girl.”
You whimper around his cock, and Shouto moans liquid gold in return. He smiles deviously, fingers brushing down your throat.
“Seven… eight…” you choke loudly when his fingers press against your throat, tightening your already spasming throat around his cock, furthering the burning sensation all throughout your body. “Nine…”
You look at him with pleading eyes, wordlessly begging for mercy, for something as he pauses for more than a second between nine and ten. His hips lazily jerk into your mouth, his free hand combing his hair back, messily styling it as he smirks. Your saliva was dripping uncontrollably now, pooling at the back of your throat, on your tongue, past your lips. Shouto sighs, his eyes bright with power, with the knowledge that you were so obedient.
“Ten.”
Immediately, you collapse from his cock. Saliva and pre-cum connecting your coughing mouth to his hard dick still. Your lungs ache, and your breathing is frantic as you try to regain a sense of composure. Your tears meaning nothing so long as the inferno between your thighs is tamed. 
“You did so well, baby girl,” Shouto praises, and despite the pain in your lungs, you puff up at the praise. “You did exactly what daddy asked for you, so daddy believes you deserve a reward. Do you agree?”
Unable to speak, your belly tight and warm, and your throat aching slightly, you nod eagerly.
“Use your words, angel,” Shouto coos; he steps out of his pants before squatting before you, his fingers grazing your chin. “Daddy loves it when he hears you speaking.”
“I would love a r-reward, daddy,” you whimper softly. 
Your eyes swim with want, with inexplicable needs and desires. Shouto softens when he notices you nosing into his palms; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.
“Look at how politely you asked that,” Shouto praises, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth. “Daddy’s so proud of you, sweetheart.”
You keen some more, your wet eyelashes batting in your excitement and undying love for him.
“Now, daddy wants you to go to your room and take off all the clothes you want. Once you’re ready, I want you to call me in, and then daddy will take excellent care of you, okay?” Shouto commands you, his lips pressing softly onto your cheeks, eyelids, and finally softly onto your lips.
You gasp loudly at the touch, your eyes wide but looking incredibly drunk at the touch.
“Okay!” you giggle, pressing forward and taking his lips into another kiss.
He hums before assisting you to your feet, and you breathlessly laugh as you turn around and skip away towards your room. 
Your room is neat, as is required of Shouto. Your bed is neatly organized; there’s nothing on the floor or on your chair. Everything is put away correctly and cleanly. Grinning, you take off your shirt followed by your bra, shimming off your shorts, you toss away your clothes into your hamper, leaving only your socks on.
Hopping onto your bed, you grab a stuffed animal before turning to face the door and sing.
“Daddy, I’m ready!!!”
You squeal after saying that, excitedly staring at the closed door, eagerly anticipating the way Shouto would walk in. Your eyelashes flutter when you see the doorknob twist and in comes Shouto, who, unlike you, is completely naked.
Now you knew he was fit, even with your mind beginning to sink into your little space, you knew that Shouto was a handsome, fine man. He was built, muscular, and toned. He was tall, his head nearly hitting the top of the door if it wasn’t for the fact he was leaning against the doorframe. There is a slight smile on his face that screams of his pride, his joy of seeing you like this. And his eyes rake like hot coals against your body.
You shudder.
“Aren’t you cute,” Shouto murmurs, pride evident in his tone. He walks towards you, tongue slipping between his lips as he reaches the foot of the bed. “Such a beautiful princess, but now… what does princess need?”
“I need my daddy to take care of me,” you whisper, eyes hooded and mouth turning dry as he begins leaning onto the bed. “I want my daddy.”
“Such a dirty girl,” Shouto says with a chuckle as you begin to lean back onto your bed, your legs spreading for him. “Such a dirty, gorgeous girl.”
Your breathing stutters as the bed moves under his weight, and you’re practically panting as you watch his body slowly crawl over yours. Shouto looks down at you, his eyes deceivingly bright even with the shadows, and your eyes flutter as he leans down. 
You’re expecting a kiss, craving the feeling of his smooth, plump lips on yours. But you gasp in shock, betrayal, and in lust when his lips press against your earlobe. He trails his kisses everywhere, kissing every inch, every centimeter of your face, but never once your lips.
“Daddy, stop teasing!!” you whine loudly, feet kicking on the mattress and hands burying into his hair.
“I’m not teasing you,” Shouto objects, but the grin on his face says otherwise. “Why do you think I’m teasing you? What do you want?” 
“I want daddy’s kisses! Give me your kisses!” you cry with a pout.
With a burst of cheerful laughter that warms your heart and makes your belly flip, Shouto presses downward, capturing your lips with his. The contact is blissful, everything and more that you need. You eagerly kiss him back, making noises that are both sinful and so blessedly innocent as your arms wrap around his neck.
Shouto kisses you back with matching intensity, one elbow resting by your head, the other resting on your hip as he allows your tongue to press into his mouth. He lets you greedily take what you want, his thumb on your hip drawing nonsensical pictures. But as you shudder against him, completely overwhelmed by this all. Shouto probes his tongue into your mouth, gliding his wet, hot muscle against the roof of your mouth and the back of your teeth until your panting, unable to do anything but absorb him.
“So pretty, so cute when you’re like this. A beautiful doll for her daddy,” Shouto whispers into your mouth, and you can only moan in response. 
“I need daddy,” you speak, your glazed eyes unable to even look at Shouto. “I need daddy so bad.”
“Where does my princess need me?” Shouto speaks, his lips trailing down your slick chin and neck. “Right here?” he asks, sinking his teeth onto your neck and sucking softly.
“A-Aahhh~,” you shudder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues to place hickey after hickey on your neck, your collarbones, and the spot right behind your ear that makes you melt. “Yes, I need you everywhere… I need daddy’s mouth and cummies in me.”
“Your boobs are so cute, baby girl,” Shouto whispers, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you notice that he’s nosing against your breasts. “So pretty, better than anything I could have hoped for.”
You whine loudly, your body arching off the bed as his hot tongue dips out and licks a pebbled nipple. You pant as he licks again, your fingers burying into his hair.
“Such beautiful nipples, you make your daddy so happy,” Shouto praises, and you gasp loudly as his mouth envelopes your nipple. Your cunt throbs with intriguing want, your socked feet traveling up the line of his leg as his teeth graze and move your nipple in his mouth. “You make me the proudest daddy ever.”
His fingers card down your stomach, trailing and lingering around your cunt, and yet never once touching it. It’s tactical, teasing, and mind spinning. Your clit spasms with needed attention, angry with the teasing, desperate for contact — for attention. You make a noise, something not quite human, unable to pull yourself from your growing fuzzy head as Shouto moves from one nipple to the next.
Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.
“Don’t tease me, daddy,” you whisper, hips circling, thrusting into the air where you wish his fingers were.
“Okay,” he promises, and as if he could read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your untouched yet demanding nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest once again feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, warm tongue, and spit sinking into your nerves. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name. And when you thought the teasing couldn’t get worse, his fingers finally land where you want it most.
On your clit.
“You’re perfect, angel; I love you so much.”
It happens then, like a warm blanket being placed over you — comforting, warm, making the pain in your body hum with only pleasure, and your body trembles with peaking need.
“I wanna… I wanna do more,” you coo, eyes heavy and feigning intoxication as you look up at your daddy. “I wanna please my daddy!”
Your daddy blinks at you, head tilting before a knowing look flashes across his eyes, and he smiles softly, fingers abandoning their spots to press gently against your cheeks. You don’t even mind, so excited and happy that he’s holding you.
“What do you want, sunshine?”
“Can I please suck daddy’s nipples?” you ask with a hopeful face, “He made me feel so good, and I — I wanna make my daddy feel good too!”
“You wanna suck daddy’s nipples? Okay.”
You giggle loudly as the world spins, and you gasp when you’re suddenly sitting straight up, your wet cunt pressing against his hip bone. You laugh lightly, a bell-like giggle, and your hands press to his chest. “That was so fun!”
“Was it—?”
Your daddy can’t finish his sentence because you caught sight of his dusty brown nipples and launched forward, capturing the soft tissue in your mouth. 
It tastes like your daddy, the salt and unique taste he has. And your tongue lashes at it, your cheeks hollowing as you suck at it some more. It hardens in your mouth, a sensation that has you breaking away from him with a beautiful gasp.
“Am I doing a good job?!” you ask, looking at the pretty pink flush on your daddy’s face as he heaves slightly, flustered and a bit out of breath. “My nipples do that when you do a job, daddy!”
“You’re doing so well,” your daddy informs you, and you laugh excitedly. “Do you want… do you want daddy’s cock now?” 
“Daddy’s cock?” you question, heat rushing to your face at the naughty word. “W-What does that mean?”
“Daddy’s cock is how I can make you feel good,” daddy explains, his fingers trailing up and down your thighs, playing with the hem of your socks. 
You giggle as he snaps at it playfully.
“You’ve been doing such a good job, sunshine, and daddy’s cock hurts and wants to be in you.”
“In me?”
“Mmhm, and when it’s in you, you can get daddy’s cummies,” daddy smiles softly. “You want daddy’s cummies, remember?”
You think about it, unsure if you had wanted it, but then you remember that you had said it.
“Will daddy’s cummies help me? My stomach feels funny, a-and I feel wet.”
Daddy nods fast, his body shifting so that he’s in a sitting position and your wet chest presses against him. It’s a sensation you’re unfamiliar with, and you make an embarrassing squeaking noise at the feeling.
“I promise it’ll make you feel better, sunshine.”
You think about it some more, your arms wrapping around his neck as you think. But soon enough, you find yourself giggling and nodding, “I trust my daddy!”
“I’m so glad you do. Daddy’s so glad his baby girl trusts him.”
And the next thing you know, you’re back on your back, and your daddy looms over you, spreading your legs wide apart. You look down at gasp at the sight of daddy’s cock.
“It’s so big!” you shriek, “Where is that going, daddy?!”
“This is going right… there,” daddy emphasizes, pressing two fingers into a part of your body that has you speechless. It’s an intrusion you’re almost unfamiliar with, and yet it makes your head spin and your body hot with need and action from him. “I promise it’ll feel so good; I’ll make you feel so good.”
“O-Okay,” you whimper, watching your daddy pull something against the length of his cock before pressing the swollen head to the entrance that made you feel funny in a good way. “I’m ready, daddy.”
“I’m so glad,” your daddy smiles, and with a gentle kiss to your temple, he presses his cock into you.
“DADDY!” you shriek as his cock pressed into you, filling you out and stretching you out completely. The sensation is overwhelming, piercing pleasure slamming through your body as your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice-like grip. 
Daddy’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close as his hips begin rutting in and out of you. The sensation, the rhythm, is constant and is intoxicating. The creak of the mattress and the loud, grateful cries of your mouth into the crook of his neck fills the room. And then he shifts you just a bit, his hips able to thrust further, more profound, into you, and a wanton, nearly voluptuous noise escapes your mouth. 
“Kiss me, daddy!” you cry, head thrusting back into the mattress, pleasure saturating so deep in your brain you can’t think anymore. “Kiss me, please! Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekiss—”
His mouth is over yours, hot pants and wrecked breathing is passed between open parted lips. Your tongue pushes against his teeth, unable to find his tongue as your hips swirl and thrust up into his thrust cock. Every thrust sends daddy’s cock deeper into your pulling, demanding cunt, stretching you out, sending you further out in an unimaginable way. Your walls spasm uncontrollably, clenching and tightening without a single input. 
But soon, daddy’s shifting up onto his knees, and you can only wildly cry out for him when his arms shift from keeping you close to pressing behind your knees and shoving your knees into the mattress by your shoulders. The most primal, deranged moan rips from your mouth as the stretch sends his cock to a place in your cunt you never could imagine existing. You shake like a child against him, fingers scraping at his back, tearing his skin as your heels dig into his back. The head of his cock buries and brushes against your cervix, making you cry and see colors you’ve never seen before in your life. Your praises for your daddy are endless, and his powerful pounding sends the headboard of your bed crashing against the wall harder and harder.
“How are you feeling, bunny?” Daddy grunts, his face contorted with pleasure and the need to look at you. “Do you feel my cock in you? Can you feel daddy’s cock hitting your cervix?”
“D-Daddy, I-I — ohhh my god!” you sob, your hips pathetically rutting up and down against his cock, stupidly furthering how deep his cock can go, your cervix melting with pleasure, making you oh so dizzy. You can only blabber. “Daddy’s cock is so big, it’s so good! It’s making my stomach feel so funny! I’m so scared!”
“Don’t be scared,” your daddy pleads against your neck, though his speed and strength doesn’t lessen. “Your stomach feeling funny is a good thing; it’s supposed to happen! I promise you, this is how it's supposed to happen. Okay?”
“Okay, daddy, okay, okay, okay,” your voice lessened to a senseless babble. Your sentences blurring together, and your cheek pressed into the mattress, and drool pooled from your lips. 
His pace is completely irreplicable now; every maddening powerful thrust of his hips sends the headboard into the wall. The wet slapping echoing throughout the room when he pierces into you almost drowned out both of your senseless cries. 
It almost scared you, the sensation foreign, but his gentle reminder that this was normal, that you would be okay, kept you from spiraling. Slick erupts in your cunt, an overwhelming heat that throbs right in your core, coating your thighs and your stomach, and with every slam of his hips, it grows only more. 
Intensifying. 
Exhilarating. 
The temperature of your body sizzles off you in immense heat. His lips press against yours, a maddening escape of lust and need exchanging between your parted lips. Your saliva is everywhere, covering both of your faces — connecting them even when you part. But that didn’t stop him; it only fueled him to kiss you entirely, wordlessly praising you, engulfing you with his mouth, daring you with his tongue.
You were barely keeping up with his snapping hips, your mouth begging for more when he suckled on your tongue.
“It’s feeling so funny!” you suddenly cry as your daddy’s fingers pinch and rub against something between your legs that sends electric waves throughout every nerve in your body. “I feel like Imma pee, daddy! I can’t stop it! I can’t stop!”
“It’s okay, let it happen,” your daddy grunts into your ear, and with that, the calming steady of his voice, you let the heat, the tightness in your stomach you feel like is piss, slam through you. 
A tingling, white noise power sensation slams through your entire body. You arch into your daddy, your scream dying on your tongue as your body thumps with a full-body heartbeat. It sends your toes curling, your fingernails scarring his back, and a pathetic, pleasure-derived sob released into your daddy’s sweaty neck. 
His thrusting keeps up for a bit, letting your clenching and relaxing cunt finish him until his thrusts border sloppy, and with a final thrust that has your fingers trembling, he stops, collapsing onto you.
You don’t know what happens next, only that for one moment too long, it’s silent with only heaving breathing and incredibly warm body heat. Your eyes close, and you’re out before you even know it.
.
.
.
You open your eyes to a dark room.
Shouto is next to you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he holds a wet, warm cloth to your body, gently cleaning you up.
“Holy shit,” you murmur, your voice scratchy and nearly blown. “Did I drop and pass out after cumming?”
Shouto jumped at your voice, looking up at your face with a tired but satisfied grin, “You did.”
You laugh softly, not quite humorlessly, not entirely because you were amused. You sit up, groaning at how your lower body screams in pain; well, it seemed that your drop really did hide any pain.
“That was fun,” you grin, eyes closing as Shouto presses the cloth to your neck, cleaning the sweat and saliva there. “Glad I decided to speak up on that — ow!”
You pouted as Shouto retreated his pinching fingers from your ribcage.
“You didn’t speak up; you acted out and then spoke up,” Shouto chuckled, sighing as he leaned backward, allowing for you to stretch your tired limbs.
“I still managed to say my truth,” you grin, taking the wet cloth from his hands and focusing on his body. Shouto sat there, still and silent, as you gingerly cleaned… everything off him.
“Well, if we’re saying our truths, can I ask something?” Shouto murmurs, so unlike his typical confident demur. You pause for a moment before nodding, continuing to clean the broken skin on his body. “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I-I know this is cheesy and all, but I feel like I want you outside of our arrangement, outside of the dynamic.”
You can’t help but laugh, making Shouto look panicked, even if for a bit.
“I thought I was the only one.”
.
.
.
“Sero, psst, Sero!” Mina whispers loudly, hitting her friend in the back of the head with an eraser.
“Shit, what?” Sero hisses, a slight annoyance in his face from being hit.
“Look!”
Sero follows Mina’s pointed finger over where you and Shouto sat, in the middle of your own world despite it being smack in the middle of the lecture. He scanned your bodies more intensely and froze at the sight of purple and red bruises on both your necks.
“Is that—?!”
“YES!!!”
“HOLY SHIT! WE CALLED IT!”
“Sero!” boomed the voice of Aizawa, their scariest professor ever. “Is there something you would like to share with the class?”
Sero freezes, an awkward smile blooming on his face as he shrugs, “I’m just noticing some hickies today, that’s all!”
There could have been no casualties in this admittance; after all, Aizawa didn’t give two shits about hickies on university students. But the loud, panicked “shit!” coming from you was undoubtedly damning. 
Shouto snickered, his fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt as his fingers brushed against the collection of bruises, “I think they look nice.”
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lutawolf · 2 years ago
Note
Hello Luta.
Ill try to be polite and keep my rant short but i cant promise anything.
First of all, im from Mexico so english is not my main language so please bear with me and my grammar wrong doings.
So let me give you a bit of context, i first encountered BDSM when i was a 16 yo (Im 20 yo now dw), it was through some fanfic and at that time i didnt really understood what was happening and i started searching a bit about it but i really didn't talk about it, it was like my big secret that i knew about this. Fast forward when i was around 18 i dont know how one night i ended up on BDSM advice reddit and i was so excited to tell my friends about my new discovery but they ignored me lol. So yeah after that i pretty much stopped searching and kept it on lock until KP. I remember that i was thrilled with Kinn and porsche relationship, i loved it and i told one of my friends that i wanted that type of dynamic but then Vegaspete happened and i was gone, the face on pete when Vegas was touching him before the kiss, yeah I want to be him so bad. So i dont even know how i ended up on your Tumblr but i read all your explanations one night and i was shaking in excitement, everything was so fucking clear. So yeah I started to search way more about it and finally understood what Subspace was and oh the way im craving to be able to experience it. So i kept searching and reading and got to the point where i can admit yeah im on the submissive side. Im sorry this is getting long i promise im almost finish. So im also watching LITA and let me tell you my personality is basically Sky BUT seeing rain this last episode was like seeing myself on my last relationship minus the part when Payu was so good and caring for him. When payu was telling him that he needed to focus on School, i wanted to cry because I need someone to tell me that and when i saw rain waiting for Payu for hours only to tell him that he did well, i understood him perfectly. So after seeing the episode i ran to your Tumblr and all of the things i was thinking about their dynamic were right and I came across your post about being a non sexual Dom with your friends and it also clicked for me the way i would always be a bit bratty with my friends but always always waiting for compliments and waiting for them to tell me what to do. So yeah i dont even know why i wanted to tell you all of this right now, i guess it's more of a thank you for making me see lots of things about myself. I dont think im ready to search for the BDSM here in Mexico, i find it pretty scary but at least now i know what is going on with me.
This was morea rant than a question, so im very sorry, just wanted to share.
Thank you so much for your analysis, they helped me a lot to understand and accept myself.
Hey Hey takhun!!!
For English being a second language, you did absolutely beautifully. I understood every bit of this and I appreciate you taking the time to write it in English. It clearly showcases how much of a caring individual you are and I adore you for it.
If you are more comfortable writing in Spanish then please feel free to just know it will take me a bit to translate it. I can read it a lot better than I can speak it though🤷🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ My husband and my kids are all basically fluent, I don't know what's wrong with me. My brain literally goes BIRD BIRD BIRD SQUIRELL when I try to speak it. We went to Mexico this year and everyone talking to me and here is my family answering for me. All that to say I have mad respect for my bilingual peeps.
I remember you reading my stuff. I got notifications. I can always tell when people are really feeling it because suddenly all my D/s posts start getting likes. Trust me , I love it. Headspace is something but don't rush it, it takes the right person to not crash and burn. When you have the right person though, it's like you've hit another dimension.
I'm thrilled that you thought to run to my blog. That makes it worth staying up late to write the review. I really do appreciate the share. If I've helped even one person then it means the world to me. Thank you 💜💜💜
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panda-writes-kpop · 2 years ago
Text
Demon! SuA - Tainted Love
A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! This is a bit of a longer piece, so I'd grab a water and maybe something to eat before sitting down. You might want to grab some tissues while you're up, if you're wondering what kind of fic this is. Also, big thank you to @kingmaker-a for giving this fic a read before it came out! I had to have the Angstmaker give his stamp of approval if I was gonna write some angst, and I'm so glad that I did. 💖
Masterlist!
TW: Mentions of labyrinths, lots of angst, author venting, demons (no duh, Katie), self-deprication, mentions of food, serial killers, and hell, more angst, a toxic relationship, blood, mention of oceans and drowning, implied torture (?), mentions of death, religious themes, reader drinks alcohol, no happy ending :), also SuA acts very ooc and I definitely would not use this as an accurate judge of her character or personality.
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Sometimes I feel I've got to
Run away I've got to
Everyone faces a labyrinth of sorts in their life. Whether it’s the physical limitations of their body, the mental anguish that comes with living life, or that feeling of isolation that everyone experiences from time to time, the personalized labyrinth of life comes for us all at one point or another. 
Most people find an escape to their labyrinth. You can strengthen your body so you can push the limits of your body, you can talk to someone who can help you understand and control your feelings, and you can find comfort in the love of your friends and family when you feel alone.
My labyrinth, however, is one that I will never escape. It has a tight grip on me that I will never escape because I don’t want to let go of it. My labyrinth is my crutch, and it’s a poison that’s killing me from the inside. I can never let go of the thing that I want the most, no matter how much I want to run from it.
Love. Love is the labyrinth that I choose to face head-on. No matter how much love bites me, I want to believe that love will be my savior even though it’s my torturer. I let myself get hurt over and over again for a simple what if that will never come my way.
What if… that’s a statement that will lead you to an endless amount of questions that will never lead you to the answer that you seek. 
What if I talked to them more? What if I was a better listener? What if I was more attractive? What if I was smarter?
What if instead of trying to gain love advice from a demon and then falling in love with her, I just talked to someone about my problems?
What if?
I guess that’s the reason I’m trying to run away. How do you get away from the problems that you create? How do you find your escape to the labyrinth?
In my case, I answered both of those questions in the stupidest way possible.
Get away
From the pain you drive into the heart of me
Everything started when I was young. That’s where that labyrinth of love started to surround me, and I wasn’t able to find an escape. 
When we were kids, we threw love around as a silly word that didn’t mean much. Love was just another normal expression that we used on a day-to-day basis. We loved drawing, we loved playing on the swing set, and we loved being young and free to do as we pleased.
As a teenager, love has a different meaning. Love can be used as a sweet safety blanket or a fiery weapon of destruction. It wouldn’t be uncommon to see a couple act all lovey-dovey in the morning, and then you’d see them arguing by the end of the day. Love was used as an excuse for horrible actions and bad mistakes. Love became a sword that would protect you or harm you. The scary thing was, you didn’t know which sword was which until someone tried to use it against you.
Love was like a whispered secret that I had yet to discover. A secret that had yet to make its rounds to my ear, but even then, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. I mostly stayed out of the dating scene as a teen, but I did try and fail a few times. Every time the hope of love would build me up to a new height, the reality of me not being good enough for the people I was interested in would bring me back down to Earth. I was scorned by love, but I kept trying because I was a stupid kid. 
I trapped myself in my own labyrinth of love. I put myself through so much trauma that I distanced myself from the world. I felt unlovable because the world had yet to tell me that I was. I convinced myself that some white knight would come and save me from this labyrinth. I didn’t want to leave, so someone would have to come rescue me.
As for that white knight, I didn’t exactly have a demon whose job was to screw me over in mind.
Now, as an adult, I have yet to discover what love is to me. Is love innocent like childhood, or is it as harmful as my teenage mind made it out to be? Was love both or neither?
I didn’t know love until I saw her. Everything that I felt before that moment didn’t matter. I’d forgotten how much love had betrayed me when I went up and talked to her for the first time. I didn’t need anyone else if she was by my side.
We weren’t kids, and we weren’t teens. We were adults who could make a relationship work, right? I just had to make her fall for me like I had fallen for her. 
...But love has different plans that left me alone in the labyrinth once again. She fell in love with someone who was better than I was, and I simply couldn’t be mad at her for that. She deserves someone who would love her, and that obviously wasn’t me. 
Heartbroken, I wandered home alone the day I found out about her partner. I didn’t care that it was dark, and that I could’ve gotten hurt. I felt numb like nothing in the world could hurt me. I felt like I couldn’t hurt myself even though my body would feel the pain later on.
That’s when I found the book. A torn book with ripped pages and scribbled handwriting. That book would show me how to escape my labyrinth by placing me in an even bigger one. 
I should’ve left that god-forsaken book on the sidewalk, or in the trash where it belonged.
I, being the fool that I am, had to pick up the book. A bit of light reading couldn’t hurt after a rough day, right?
Right?
The love we share
Seems to go nowhere
I came home and closed the door behind me while clutching the book close to my chest. It was my prized possession that I had won for losing at the most important aspect in life.
I set my coat and other material possessions aside for the book, and I turned on a lamp and sat down in a nearby chair. 
I merely skimmed the book as I tried to decipher its hidden meaning. Why would a book like that appear in my life if it didn’t mean something? Everything in the world meant something to someone. As I admired those pages, I tried to think of what use that book would have to me. It’s unreadable handwriting had no monetary value, and the book looked like it had been through hell and back.
Oh, only if I knew that book really had been through hell.
Sleep quickly overcame me as I finished searching through the book, and I gently set the book on the table next to me. 
Too tired to walk to bed, I simply slept on that chair as my mind spent another night dreaming of those stupid ‘what ifs’.
I arose in a state of complete disarray as the morning light peeked through my home’s windows. Luckily, it was the weekend and I didn’t have to worry about working the next day. 
I pulled myself out of the chair and began to prepare breakfast. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but I didn’t care to eat much as my mind still wandered over the what ifs of life.
What if I had made a move earlier? What if I waited until they broke up to date her? What if I wasn’t good enough for her? What if, what if, what if.
At that moment, while drowning my sorrows in a bowl of cereal and milk, I met “the one”.
She wasn’t anything like the girl from earlier. The girl I loved was sweeter than honey and had a heart made of gold.
The girl that I was about to meet would make serial killers look like saints if they stood next to her.
All I remember was looking up, and she was there. While I sat with that bowl of depressing cereal in front of me, she leaned over me and gently scanned me over with her eyes. Her hand gently graced my face for a moment, and I remember feeling like I wanted her to keep her hand there forever.
The girl leaned away from me before chuckling. She stuck her hand out as the morning light illuminated her fierce features. 
Her strong jawline would make a model jealous, and her piercing brown eyes could cut straight through someone without a second glance. Her black suit defined her perfect figure as her brown hair seemed to float behind her head.
Everything about her screamed dangerous and deadly, but I couldn’t see the beast past the beauty in front of me. I didn’t question how she got in my house or why such a beautiful woman was in front of me. 
To be fair, I didn’t really care at that moment in time, either.
She laughed again before wiggling her fingers in her extended hand. That laugh was a sound that I loved and dreaded. She used it when she was happy, or when she was very mad.
“The name’s SuA, and by the way you’re looking at me, I can tell we’ll be great pals.”
Pals, as SuA said it, would be the last word in the dictionary that I would use to describe our relationship.
Our relationship was like an endless loop of love, hurt, pain, and apologies. She was the labyrinth that I trapped myself in after escaping the loveless one.
Turns out, the only thing that’s worse than a loveless labyrinth is a labyrinth that is tainted with a love that’ll break you to your core.
And I've lost my light
For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night
I sat there, stunned by her forwardness. Was she really talking to me? Was a woman that perfect really in my home? Did my dreams finally come to fruition, or had I finally gone mad from my desires?
Stupidly, I slipped my hand into hers, and I shaked it while trying to understand what exactly was happening.
“Y/N. I can’t help but wonder, why exactly are you in my home?”
SuA’s laughter hit my ears again, and I’d already become addicted to the sound of her happiness that echoes through my home.
“Oh, you humans are so naive! It’s adorable.” SuA gently tapped my nose which caused a wildfire of red to spread across my face. “You summoned me with that handy-dandy book that you found.”
My eyes widened as I grabbed the book from the table. 
I was in absolute disbelief of what she was suggesting to me. Summoning? Demons are summoned, and the woman in front of me didn’t look like a demon.
Well, demons aren’t just called demons because of their looks. That was a lesson that I had yet to learn when this encounter took place.
I, in a moment of blinding idiocracy, asked her the first thing that came to mind.
“So, does that make you a demon?”
“Unless angels have started popping up from bibles, and the last time I checked they haven’t, I’m the only creature that you can find from a book.” 
SuA sighed before pulling her hand from me. She then raised one hand in the air which caused every object that was on my table, including my bowl of cereal, to float in the air. The objects nearly touched my ceiling by the time SuA lowered her hand to her side.
My mouth was wide open in shock as SuA flashed me a wicked smirk. Was she really that powerful?
“You like what you see, right? That’s only the beginning of what we could do together. We can be a great team, but I need you to trust me.”
SuA took a seat on top of my small kitchen table before snatching the leather-bound book.
“Hey, what are you-”
“Hush.” SuA closed her hand, and at the exact same time, my hand covers my mouth. “You’re a lot more attractive when you stop talking.”
I grumbled in slight protest as I blushed out of embarrassment. SuA simply shakes her head before opening the book.
“God, I missed this thing. I’m glad that I was bound to this book because of how powerful it is.” SuA flipped through a few pages. “Ah, yes, the spells about torture, pain, heartbreak, romance-”
Her eyes glanced over to me after she said the word ‘romance’, and she chuckled as my eyes widened at its mentioning.
“You poor lovesick fool. You’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t love you back, right?”
I nodded my head before SuA clicked her tongue.
“I can fix that for you, if you’d like. All I need is your permission.”
SuA relaxed her hand, and my hand dropped from my mouth. I took a deep breath before answering.
“Please help me out, SuA. Do whatever you need to.”
I didn’t sleep that night, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t due to those stupid ‘what ifs’. I opened a whole can of worms that I had to deal with on my own.
As I rolled back and forth on my bed, I tried to forget everything that happened, but I couldn’t. 
Everything about SuA stuck out in my mind. I already could envision her smiles, laughter, or smirks with a simple thought. I knew where my mind was going before I was able to make the conclusion.
I was crushing on a demon that was doing god knows what in order to get me a girl I didn’t want anymore. I had stopped thinking about her the moment SuA appeared. 
SuA was charismatic, funny, and an interesting person to be around. Why hadn’t I figured this out earlier? I could’ve told her then, and this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.
The mess I am referring to is the only mess that a demon knows how to make. 
You see, giving a demon the freedom to do anything is like playing Russian Roulette. You don’t know what the hell is about to happen, but it’s about to be bloody and ugly.
I shouldn’t have let a demon become a beacon of light for me. I should’ve stayed in my closet-sized labyrinth and waited for better days to come. 
Go read a book or go outside. Talk to someone if you’re not feeling well. Whatever you do, don’t pick up strange books, accidentally summon a very attractive demon, and then fall in love with her. It’s a very awful, bad, and an all-around horrendous idea.
When SuA walked in with blood on her hands, the first thing I should’ve asked about was who she hurt. Demons can’t be hurt because they’re immortal.
In another moment of stupidity, I asked her if she was okay.
SuA simply sighed before saying, “It's done. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“What did you do?”
“You don’t want to know.” SuA deadpans before walking into my bathroom.
I assumed that she was cleaning the blood off, and I didn’t want to know anymore than I had to. I simply let what had happened happen. I had no control over her, and besides, she can’t do something that bad to a living person. Demons should have some sort of self-control, right?
Should have, could have, would have. Those are three phrases that I hate more than what ifs. What ifs are just questions that you ask yourself over and over. Eventually, your mind grows tired and they stop. 
But those words, they never stop. They’ll put you right back into your past mistakes until you’re drowning in a sea of regret, misery, and self-pity. You won’t be able to breathe because the waves of endless possibilities will crash against you over and over until you stop fighting it. You don’t swim when you’re thinking about everything you could’ve, should’ve, would’ve done in a certain scenario. You sink as those thoughts pull you in like a heavy anchor that is attached to your ankle.
I should’ve swam far away when I first saw SuA. I should’ve left the country and gotten a new life. That would’ve put me in a much better position than I’m in now.
But I choose to be continuously pulled into the riptide. At this point in time, it’s a waiting game until I drown myself in my own misery.
Once I ran to you (I ran)
Now, I'll run from you
“Why the hell did you kill them?” I frantically waved my hands at the television as you tried to catch SuA’s attention.
Apparently, SuA’s fingernails were more important than my external panic as she stared at her nails while shrugging her shoulders.
“You told me to do whatever I needed to, and I did.”
“That wasn’t what I meant!” I yell as I nearly pull hairs out of my head while pacing back and forth in my living room.
“Jeez, take a chill pill. I wouldn’t have maimed them if I knew you were going to act like this.”
“You did WHAT?”
A couple’s first fight usually happens after a first date, first kiss, and if they’re lucky, when they first move in together. Since SuA and I are the off-brand version of a normal romantic relationship, we apparently decided to do things a bit out of order.
That being said, we weren’t exactly a couple back then, and I’m not sure if I would call us a couple now, after everything that’s happened.
“I just broke a few bones, dunked them in a nice ice bath, and then tossed them on a side of a road where there’s a lot of oncoming traffic. Whatever happened after that wasn’t directly my fault.” SuA said while digging through my fridge. “What kind of monster doesn’t have orange juice?”
“Hey, get out of there!” I turned the TV off before rushing over to her. “I haven’t had time to go to the store.”
“Do you mind if I make a sandwich?”
“I don’t know, SuA. Do you plan on killing anyone else?” I exasperatedly sighed before leaning on the fridge.
SuA bit her lip before closing the fridge door.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”
We both stood there awkwardly as we tried to think of something to say to one another. We came to a threshold that couldn’t be crossed. Granted, most couples don’t exactly tend to fight about murdering someone, but we tried to make it work.
“What happens next?” I softly asked. “How do we fix this?”
“There’s no fixing this, Y/N. I’m a demon, not a miracle worker. We go on with our lives. You get the girl, and I get the book. We have had a mutually beneficial relationship so far, and I’m glad to have met you, but I’ve really got to go now.”
SuA tried to grab the book from the table, but I grabbed it before she could.
“What if I told you that I didn’t want her anymore?”
SuA rolls her eyes before crossing her arms.
“You’re telling me that I murdered someone just for you to get wishy-washy on me? How pathetic.” She spit out before looking at me with disgust.
“I’m not the one who murdered someone. You did that all on your own. Besides, the girl that I have my eye on is much prettier than the first.”
SuA raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, and who would that be?”
SuA unfolded her arms before walking towards me. I kept a blank face as she closed in on me. I can feel my heartbeat all over my body as my mind begins to wander. 
Would she let me kiss her? I guess I can find out now.
SuA put her face close to mine, and I’m so close that I could feel her breath tickle my cheek. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, but I can’t be the first one to make the move.
If she’s the one to save me from my labyrinth, then SuA must show that she's interested in me first.
I didn’t have to think twice as SuA’s lips connect with mine. 
The taste of black licorice entered my mouth, and it was a flavor that I was permanently hooked on. No candy nor sweet could compare to her. Everything about her was perfect, and everything about that moment was perfect too.
SuA and I were like two shooting stars. We had two different paths in the night sky that eventually led us to one another. Normally, stars don’t collide with one another, but we did. Unfortunately, when two stars collide, they don’t stick together.
They explode.
This tainted love you've given
I give you all “a boy” could give you
Take my tears and that's not nearly all
I had tried to make it work. I knew that nothing would work when it came to SuA. She was a demon, and I was mortal. You can’t combine oil and water because they eventually separate from each other. We might have been oil and water, but we couldn’t let go of one another right from the start to the very end.
I knew how this would end. All of the fighting and screaming had to end sometime. I thought it would end with her walking out on me, and to her credit, SuA did walk out, but she always came right back to me.
I wasn’t much better, either. I told her how much I hated everything about her even though I loved her to death. I told her that she was a horrible person even though she was the only person that I could trust. I told her to never lay another hand on me even though she’d be holding me by nightfall.
We were both victims and perpetrators in a crime of passion and love. No cops would catch us because we’d act fine on the outside, like nothing had happened. Our relationship was perfect because that’s all the neighbors needed to worry about.
Oh, that screaming that you heard? Sorry, the music was too loud!
The sound of glass breaking woke you up at one in the morning? Sorry, my girlfriend had the munchies and she accidentally dropped the glass container of cookies. You don’t have to worry about us!
That crying sound? We had a movie night with a few friends, and some of us got really emotional. We’ll try to pick something happier next time.
Lies, lies, lies. It seemed like everything in our relationship was built on a lie. 
SuA wasn’t the one who lied. Oh, no, I had to be the bad guy.
Of course I was the antagonist. We both weren’t to blame for a failing relationship, right? It was all my fault because I started this whole thing. 
SuA didn’t have to kiss me. She didn’t have to save me from my labyrinth. She could’ve left me alone while running off with that magic book of hers.
But no, she kissed me and here we are. SuA slammed the door in my face after another heated fight, and I’m drinking my sorrows away while trying to figure out where I went wrong.
I do this once a week, but I haven’t learned my lesson. I know that SuA will come home and degrade me for drinking alone, but I’ll sit and take it on my chin in the name of “love”.
What sort of sick, twisted love have we wrapped ourselves in? This isn’t love, and I know it. Hell, I’m sure SuA does too. 
Sure, love can hurt, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re being run over by a fifty-ton dump truck every time you talk to your partner. Love can burn, but you shouldn’t be covered in third-degree burns on a daily basis. Love can make you bleed, but you shouldn’t be left to die with cuts all over your body.
I take a swig of the drink in front of me, and I enjoy feeling it burn as the liquid travels down my throat. 
Nothing can hurt you more than love except your thoughts, and I’ve been hurt by both on numerous occasions.
Without thinking, I take my drink and chuck it at the TV in front of me. Of course, the TV screen shatters along with the drink. I know that SuA will be pissed when she comes home, but I don’t care about our relationship or what others may think. 
Numbness has replaced any sort of feeling I have towards her. We can dance this dance as many times as we wish because I won’t let her words or actions hurt me anymore.
My feet wobble as I make my way over to the couch. As soon as my body hits the couch, the tears flow from my face as the weight of my actions crashes down on me.
I’ll never escape this labyrinth. I’m stuck in a labyrinth that I made with my own desires. My home is my prison, and my heart is prisoner. I’m simply a vessel that carries my heart and emotions from place to place. 
This labyrinth has spiraled out of control, and it’s bigger than my relationship with SuA. My mind, my thoughts, my actions, and my words are my labyrinth. SuA’s just a pawn that my mind uses to reason with me. It’s sick and it’s twisted, but I can’t help but to want more of that sweet drug that my brain offers me. I don’t want to be here anymore, but I can’t escape my mind even if I leave SuA.
As my eyes close, one final thought enters my mind, and it’s the worst one yet.
I’ve done all of this thinking and contemplating. I know how I want to act, and I know what I should do next. I need to leave SuA, and I need to get help for whatever’s going on in my head. I just know that I can’t because I won’t remember a single thing that I’ve thought about in the morning, and I’ll continue running around my labyrinth like nothing is wrong.
Oh, tainted love
Tainted love
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