#but i was fully fucking committed to it even when more horrible things came to light that just left me more conflicted

[moe-broey]

Bruh moment

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 31

quick note first of all, would anyone be interested in me also doing a liveblog for 'The Unwanted Guest' as well as these remaining chapters?

and after three books we’re back on the Ninth where this all started. Kiriona’s putting on a bit of a show with the ‘Home sweet home’ thing, but it really can’t be pleasant returning to somewhere she spent an absolutely horrible childhood trying to escape, and without Harrow no less

this might genuinely be the first time there has ever been a dog on the Ninth, i don’t really see the cult of goth priests being big on pets

‘then again, i’m not sure of John period’ yeah me neither, quite frankly even after a book which spends half its page time detailing his backstory i’m still unsure about what exactly his plans and powers are

‘a string of fairy lights wouldn’t have gone amiss’ honestly given Harrow’s general penchant for interior bone design, i think she could be persuaded if the fairy lights were made out of actual bone somehow

ohh holy shit there was a good moment while reading that description of Gideon surrounded by corpses with blood on her sword that i fully thought that she’d come back to the Ninth on some weird revenge mission and just straight up murdered Crux

‘My lady, you have come home to us … at last’ why is this making me feel things for Crux of all people. like he has no idea about Nona, or that Harrow’s lost in the River, or anything she’s been through at all. all he knows is that she left for the First, became a Lyctor, and never communicated or came home again

oh great we’re returning to possibly the creepiest part of GtN with the weird ‘devil’ things. between the duel of the Third and Sixth and possession of Colum Asht, the second half of that book is suddenly becoming very relevant again. while Nona’s been living in a combination slice-of-life/war drama, Kiriona’s life seems to have taken a sharp turn into zombie apocalypse novel. fun!

i’m very intrigued about the little pieces of John and Gideon’s relationship that we get here, notably i think (if i remember correctly) that this is the first time she’s mentioned him as ‘Dad’, seemingly completely sincerely, unlike calling him ‘Pops’ at the end of HtN. and apparently he falsely reassured her that the devils were confined to Antioch, but Kiriona seems to have fully believed him and sounds genuinely upset that he apparently lied about it

wow Crux literally cannot stop hating on Gideon even when he’s actively fucking dying. on one level i can admire the commitment but dude, this level of beef with a literal teenager is ridiculous

‘there was a figure there - dark robes with a pale face’ okay i really can’t figure out what is with the weird stalker figure here. is it Nona having a hallucination of Harrow? just a strange description of one of the nuns?

Pyrrha apparently painted a mint green nursery here a long time ago, i assume for Anastasia’s kid, which would explain the weird remark about helping deliver a baby back in chapter 10. also this implies a version of the Ninth which was at one point not quite so dedicated to the doom-and-gloom-bones-and-death aesthetic, which feels inconceivable to me

well hello Aiglamene long time no see, this is a slightly more welcome return than Crux at least. ngl i really wasn’t expecting to see all these characters from the beginning of GtN again, but it’s interesting to catch up and see how little has really changed there despite all the events of the series

ohhh my god. this is not how i expected a reunion between Aiglamene and Gideon to go. Aiglamene seems so genuinely shaken by the fact that she’s dead, and the fact that she’s apparently very angry at Harrow on Gideon’s behalf, like !! she definitely seems to care about Gideon a lot more than she ever actually let on to her

‘Nona was deeply horrified to see actual walk-around skeletons’ i think Harrow would be mortally offended that anyone in her body could find skeletons horrifying

actually yknow what i take back what i said in GtN about Palamedes, Paul should absolutely not be a therapist with this bedside manner

‘You can’t take loved away’ uh, excuse me for a minute i need to sit in a corner and cry my heart out for a moment. this moment really feels like a summary of a lot of themes in the whole series

ok the final nail in the coffin for my emotional wellbeing at the end of this chapter is that Pyrrha did actually get a birthday present, one that she’ll never be able to give her. here i am completely distraught over cheap moustache rides what have you done to me Tamsyn Muir

istg at least some part of Nona needs to live on. like c’mon Gideon died at the end of the first book and she’s still kicking, Nona can do it too. once again it is nearly the end of a Locked Tomb book and i am in severe denial about probably permanent character death

[cellarspider]

29/30 Quit while he's a head

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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We return to a movie that does not know when to stop when it’s behind, Prometheus. Content warning for a random last bit of metaphorically kicking David’s head around like a football.

So, we last left Shaw lying on the ground, fully in the I Can’t mood, which I was actually feeling sympathy for. Let’s see how long that lasts, because David is about to give her a call.

“Dr. Shaw… can you hear me?” “Yes. Yes, I can hear you.” “I was afraid you were dead.” “You have no idea what afraid is.”

Is this just the lashing out of someone who’s emotionally overwhelmed at the moment? Could be! We’ll check back in on that in a minute.

David informs Shaw that they can escape, because there’s more ships. I’m not sure whether this is intended to be a plot twist, because the movie already showed us that there were identical buildings all lined up in this canyon. But nobody ever mentioned them or thought to check them out, so maybe Shaw literally did not ever think of that.

Next thing we know, Shaw has found David, and demands to know where her cross is. “Even after all this,” says David, “you still believe, don’t you?”

Shaw says nothing, because this movie does not appear to have any idea what her faith might mean beyond “believes a thing, cross good, God made Engineers.”

I’m not a religious or spiritual person, and I’m annoyed at how shallow this turned out to be. This movie has an explicitly christian worldview, and yet it doesn’t engage with actual christianity at all. This is bonkers.

David is also of the opinion that Shaw’s plans are similarly inexplicable–David assumes they want to go to Earth.

You know what would’ve made a tense, relatively cheap sequel to this? Have them head towards Earth. Have Shaw repair David, and then realize he plans to use the black goo on humanity. Too late to keep him from gaining control of the ship, you wouldn’t even need a critter to hunt Shaw or whatever, it could be kept as a straight thriller, where she has to figure out a way to stop David.

But no, Shaw wants to go to where the Engineers came from. 

“May I ask what you hope to achieve by going there?”  “They created us. Then they tried to kill us. They changed their minds. I deserve to know why.”  “The answer is irrelevant.”

Oh, no it is not, David. The answer is very relevant. It’s absolutely maddening, but I will GET to that next time.

In the meantime, Shaw completes her undermining of my brief moment of sympathy for her.

“Does it matter why they changed their minds?” “Yes. Yes, it does.” “I don't understand.” “Well…”

You can stop right there, Shaw.

“I guess that's because I'm a human being… and you're a robot.”

That is the face of a man who has just added another entry to The List.

What the hell kind of line is that. I really, truly do not understand that. In alternate versions of this scene she called him a fucking robot instead, so they were really committed to this idea that she’d deny the personhood of David right here. He's behaved horribly toward others, but basically in the way a child behaves horribly when they feel slighted. He has been mistreated and he didn't like it, so he did what he felt would make it stop. That's a very immature, very human reaction.

Is the movie unaware of this, or is Shaw unaware of this, and making a mistake?

Holloway was positioned as an unlikable character, partly on the weight of using real-world racist language toward David. What does this mean for Shaw? Does this confirm that she’s not supposed to be a likable or moral protagonist? Because she starts doing a “This is Ellen Ripley Elizabeth Shaw” message in a bottle end monologue, as they sail away to David murdering her between now and Alien: Covenant. This is her last living act, as far as her on-screen participation in the series is concerned.

This is just ambiguous enough to make me confused, and not because I’m conflicted about her character–I thought she was a wingnut from early on, and she contributed to a whole lot of destruction and deaths the movie didn’t sell me on as being inevitable. I’m confused because I cannot tell if this movie has a protagonist-centric morality or not.

As stated before, films do not need to follow any sort of moral code or consistency. But when they do, there are two broad ways to go about it: Either a moral code stands on its own, and characters are tested against it regardless of who they are, or morality is exemplified by the protagonist(s), defining the moral framework of the movie through their actions.

Neither of these are inherently bad. They can lead to what we once called “flamewars” on Ye Olde Internet, because this distinction is not explicitly announced by the story, or any story really. If one person thinks a story’s morals are protagonist-centric, or perhaps all stories are protagonist-centric, then a story with a real bastard of a main character can create a very angry response.

As I said previously, Ridley Scott has directed movies where the protagonist is not the moral center of the universe. But big spectacle action movies tend to lean in that direction, and the writer for this movie wrote and produced for both the JJ Abrams Star Trek movies.

You see my problem here.

I’m still thinking that Shaw isn’t meant to be taken as morally correct here. I’m just confused as well, because her ending message is hopeful. That she’s going off to a home planet of the Engineers, because “It is New Years Day, the year of our Lord, 2094," and she’s “still searching” for answers.

I hope that her hope is meant to be read as foreboding. Delusional. I don’t know. What is she expecting, showing up in what they now know is a bioweapon bomber? Why not spend some time trying to figure out how to not bring an apocalypse’s worth of ordinance to wherever she wants to go? “I come in peace” isn’t going to be very convincing when you can–and David certainly will–kill everything that moves.

What a weird way to end the movie. If its characterization wasn’t so often flimsy, I might like it. Instead, I’m just left spinning my wheels as we fade out.

Oh, sorry, we haven’t ended it yet, we need a non-human chestburster to go reee at the camera, like how Alien versus Predator ended.

Great. Good job. That didn’t cheapen the movie at all.

What a mess. What a mess of a movie that didn’t know itself.

But we are not done. Because traditionally, as the credits are rolling, I tell my friends about an interview Ridley Scott gave after Prometheus came out. One where he talks about the Engineers and their motivations.

I have heard the screams of my friends as I told them, and I have laughed. You’re next!

⛬

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

Citations for alt-text rambles

https://media.tenor.com/mweqSDA_s_gAAAAC/game-of-thrones-got.gif 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Offspring_(Star_Trek:_The_Next_Generation)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pharyngeal_jaw 

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gQYNl0DEC7w/UYhmdkvmOVI/AAAAAAAACA4/HYWxCBYccHM/s1600/Sandworms.jpg

https://bogleech.tumblr.com/post/745405355995037696/i-forgot-people-dont-generally-know-what-these

[intertexts]

Hi here to ask nhw quastion again :3 ik ashe and the wards have Problems once ashe gets detrickstered because theyre all triggering each other and dying horribly and messily and its miserable but ! microphone emoji. do you have thoughts about how that would work specifically between virion and ashe

- @suckinitup

(also ik i havent rbed the other thing yet so yee the suck tag works for now akdhskdh i am Between Internet Names atm. and ofc i chose a url thats hard to nickname 😔)

HI!! GOD. YEAH MAN. YEAH I FUCKING DO. literally their dynamic post trickster is something i think about so much. awesome question to ask me. augh. okay. bullet pointing this for now bcos i'm on my phone....

>post-muse ashe & virion have a shared understanding of both.... enacting & witnessing close violence? in a way that nobody else really does. dakota and wibby have been through some fucked up shit!!! they have seen and been victim of and done some incredibly awful things. of course they have. they still don't understand it on as personal a level as virion does-- virion, hiding and watching his family die one by one, virion, killing capes with their own powers. (whenever i think abt virion's stint as a vigilante i think abt taylor saying it's more personal to kill a cape with her power than with a gun. perhaps it's even more personal to kill a cape with their own powers.) the intimacy of violence & the feeling of being nothing except a vessel for it & not being really sure who or what you even are anymore is something that. ashe struggles so much with, & virion Gets. he isn't, like... sympathetic? they're not wailing and crying and virion isn't pitying him. he's just... easier to talk to, sometimes. he isn't.... loudly emotional. he gets it.

>virion also is very quiet and always moves deliberately and with intention. he is like..... as opposite the trickster as possible, in terms of physicality. this-- ashe is triggered easily. wibby's eternal taut vibrating anxious energy, dakota's quick movements n loudness & such... the body language there is. similar, sometimes. it's bad when he catches it out of the corner of his eye, or feels it behind him. virion is absolutely nothing like the trickster. it's calming just being around him. (well. when you're someone he likes.) & being able to relax that constant tension that ashe still has. leading into:

>ashe doesn't touch his hair for weeks, months, maybe, after he gets back. because of. obvious reasons. (i don't remember if an actual post got made abt it but we came to the conclusion that while the trickster loves styling ashe's hair & playing with it like doll hair he does Not have the commitment or attention span for taking care of long hair. frequently he makes him do that part himself. drops his control every so often & throws him a brush & is like. clean it. ashe getting jerked back to awareness sitting very very very scared and alone and small and brushing dried blood and meat out of his hair & braiding it with shaking fingers knowing that he's only lucid as long as it takes to do this. every time it happens he's in a different place and wearing something different.) so like.... when he gets back. he has a really hard time taking care of his own hair. and also obviously a very hard time letting anyone else touch it. it gets tangled and matted and greasy & he's ashamed of it & can't do anything about it & can't bring himself to cut it off and lose one more thing that brought him joy to the trickster. it's virion who eventually helps him with it. it takes so long-- both of them sitting fully dressed in the shower for hours, ashe trying so hard not to shake apart virion going through most of a bottle of conditioner to carefully tease the knots out. virion who doesn't like talking a lot and is always quiet trying to keep up a soft running one-sided conversation the whole time so ashe knows who's behind him. (they tried mirrors and mirrors didn't go well. the trickster had a lot of mirrors.) u know. it doesn't get done in a day or even a couple weeks & sometimes virion accidentally brushes the shell of an ear or the base of his neck in a way that sets off bad sensory memory & they have to take a panicking badly break.

>re: their Problems specifically. another reason why they click like this post-muse is because. virion isn't worried about him hurting him. he and ashe are on a level playing field, when it comes to powers. like, obviously he doesn't. think. anything would happen. & ashe absolutely refuses to use his power anyway. but there's an equality there that lets ashe breathe a little easier too. and muse never hurt imprint the way that he did will or dakota. so virion's hangups when it comes to ashe are 1. he fucking Looks Like Muse. even though his body language is different and he looks like a different person with his hair back down in loose black layers & he doesn't have those orange threads around him. virion sol most paranoid guy alive. he tenses seeing him out of the corner of his eye sometimes & wakes up to see the silver mess of his hair spilling out from under the covers (u know ashe sleeps 100% under the blankets. how is he breathing under there.) & has to breath slowly for a couple minutes and watch the rise and fall of the ashe blanket lump's breath and run through every scenario in which this is muse under the comforter and not ashe and why and how it's incredibly unlikely that this would be muse etc. 2. he is afraid that. ashe/muse will hurt william and dakota. it's irrational. he's spent the past year afraid that muse will hurt william and dakota. he's paralyzed sometimes because he thinks if i leave the room and i leave will and ashe alone in there i'll come back and he'll be dead. & then also especially in the first couple months back there were. a handful of instances when virion was startled and caught off guard and ashe is up against the wall with an arm across his throat or caught in a lock before either of them realize. & it is bad for Both of them because holy shit ashe is panicking and frozen and not breathing at being manhandled like that and he's going to blame himself for this so badly in an hour because obviously it's his fault and he should have known better and of course he's a threat to them. & of course virion has to drop the grip and run away and lock himself in the bathroom out of horror because holy shit he almost just hurt ashe he almost just killed him. he would have killed him. (he wouldn't have.) he hurt him.etc etc. etc.

>ashe knows how v thinks abt him sometimes & understands it & it doesn't make him feel Very miserable because he does get it.but it makes him a little miserable sometimes. but virion's still the one who bumps their hands together so he can copy his power and float the remote over. before the trickster, ashe used to play games on his switch on the couch & virion would sit on the couch back and watch him (v hasn't really played games since his trigger event. all the ones he used to like are covered in the Ooze now.) & it would be their weird quiet bonding thing. and now virion's the one who sits near ashe on the couch and starts up animal crossing & ashe watches him play. (it takes a while for him to get his fine motor control back. he's shaky.)

>givingthis one its own bullet point because it's important post-muse ashe has a really fucking big mental block w/ using his power. he's terrified to he refuses to he Will Not. he doesn't want to hurt anyone again. virion keeps stealing his power & using it for the same shit he always uses (mundane daily little tasks) in a very pointed look. see? it's not inherently evil. it's okay. i'm not feeling threatened by what u can do right now. see? way.

[thaly-does]

Sooo I came [back] to the SPN fandom after many many years of being completely out and [thanks to my dearest] this time I'm going to fully dedicate myself to wincest.

Naturally, I'm a multishipper. I don't care much how many other pairings with my fav chars exist / usually I ship more than one thing per fandom or per character.

But them. Oh, them.

The Winchesters. Sam and Dean. Dean and Sam. I hear how their names merge in my head into something entwisted so much it'll never get unraveled again.

They. Have. Everything.

In my usual little doll plays with the characters I prefer to go rather dark. Rather sick. Sometimes, rather dirty. Not for the sake of general evilness, naturally and inevitably inherent to being an artist, but for the sake of feelings.

The contrast is better where it's darker. The light is brighter. The love is sweeter when there's pain, the hope is luminous when there's despair. The contrast enhances the emotional impact.

But Dean and Sam? Sam and Dean?

They already have it. They have everything and anything. The pitch black and the beam light. It's been made canon, probably, years ago.

Then I thought: what had ever made my brain go full-time crazy mod? What had ever squeezed my heart so tight I couldn't breathe?

Here are some of the best [imo] moment of my other fandom's biggest OTPs. Some ships are canon, some are not. But all of the moments DID canonically happens. [I'm using X & Y so it's more descriptive]

X & Y are constantly being forced to fight each other despite their genuine connection. the forcing power massively prevails their own. that's how their relationship starts... and how it ends, with X finally forced to kill Y. then X has to restart the whole world so they could be together again.

X & Y met when both were mentally down and then spent a horrible amount of time being tortured in the cruelest way alongside each other. later, they could let go of their twisted connection. but they don't.

X silently begs Y to kill him after committing the Literally Worst Crimes Possible for which he'll never forgive himself. Y complies. Y never stops thinking about X.

X spends his whole life protecting Y with growing understanding that Y will never accept his nature.

X sacrifices himself sexually, mentally and physically at once to the person he despises the most - simply in order for Y to get away from that monster.

X (who's kind of been a psycho murderer) went through a terrible experience where half his personality got destroyed. Y takes care of him despite the previous attempt of X to kill Y in cold blood. They end up fixing it (in a way).

X is obsessed with Y to a weird, absolutely not redeemable level. Body dismemberment included.

X is successfuly fighting the massive-level brainwashing so he doesn't hurt Y, although everyone they both knew and loved die around them.

X goes so mental after Y dies that he is committing a terrorist attack suicide so the world could feel their pain.

X goes full on self-sacrifice during a rescue attempt for Y [okay that's way more than one thing but it gets me every time!]

X says "Hey Y, we die together or no way at all". and so they do.

X never recovers after betraying Y and later goes through big torture time with the thought it was deserved for that betrayal.

X & Y [& a kid] slash through an endless amount of enemies so they could be a family together

X & Y are destined to be together but they go "fuck destiny"... and stay together for who they are.

X & Y fight together against a clearly overpowered villain. and win.

X & Y seem to desperately want to finish each other off but never act upon it when there's an opportunity. they're so different that they're the same.

X dies in a stupid accident. Y tries to save his life, and, when it's not possible anymore, dies alongside, refusing to live in a world without him.

X dies and Y can't let go of the corpse. Even when the rotting visibly starts.

X has memory issues but he's done some terrible things (child murder, massacre). There is solid proof. Y does not believe that for a second, because Y knows X to the core.

None, I mean it, none of these is wincest.

But, looking back... How many of them fit to be? How many of them could fit with the right situation? How many of literally (imo) most heart-moving tropes seem to be made for this pairing of brothers whose love trascends any normal limits?

So, yeah... I'm really gonna dedicate myself to wincest these days.

[hello-nichya-here]

What are your thoughts on MJ's daughter supporting Israel and trying to distance herself from her dad? Girl won't even defend him

Jesus fucking Christ, are you guys coordinating these asks? This is the third time one of you asked me it, I'm legit impressed.

Let's get the easy, and horrible part out of the way first: nobody on the fucking planet has any excuse to support Israel. You can hate Hamas and the goverments of countries like Iran without excusing the literal genocide of civilians in Palestine, because yes, that's what Israel is doing right now.

Paris Jackson (and everyone else, famous or not, that is still pretending Israel isn't commiting all kinds of crimes against humanity right now) should have known better and needs to get her shit together.

Now, onto the messy part:

Although Paris has recently said "it's not her role/place" to defend her dad, lets not forget the other things she said on that same controversial statement:

1 - She fully believes her father is innocent and called the "documentary" Leaving Neverland pure lies.

2 - She believes that everything that could be said about her father's innocence has been said already and she'd have nothing new to add to the conversation.

3 - Her cousin Taj has become basically the leader of the family's campain to clear Michael's name and has been doing an amazing job.

4 - She's not as patient as her father was to deal with that kind of stuff and she has been focusing more on trying to recover from her mental health issues.

That last one is important, specially when we remember that Paris has claimed to have been sexually abused in school (which left her with PTSD), and that she has struggled with addiction, paranoia and a freaking suicide attempt.

It would not be surprising to me if having to listen to allegations of childhood sexual abuse is extremelly triggering for her - especially since the person being accused of being the abuser is her late father, who was murdered by his doctor when she was just 10-years-old, and she was treated like a stupid child in denial everytime she tried to point out the things being said about him were not true.

Considering she has continued to praise her father over the years, both with small things like posting a family picture on Father's day this year and big things like saying he was a super accepting man that was totally cool with her not being straight, and DID defend him publically every now and then, like, once again, calling "Leaving Neverland" pure lies when it came out, I'd say she's not really trying to distance herself from her dad or imply she's starting to think he might have been guilty. I think she just genuinely cannot fucking stand having to act as his lawyer only to have every word she says ignored, no matter how much evidence she offers to back it up.

(And before anyone brings up the fact that Taj was also a victim of sexual abuse in his childhood and has is still speaking out in support of his uncle, including of how he helped him deal with his trauma, keep in mind that people cope differently and heal at different paces).

Do I think she could have phrased some things better? Yes.

If either of my parents were accused of something horrible and a bunch of people kept insisting they were guilty despite all evidence poiting to the contrary, would I interact with said celebrities? No, and it is extremelly disappointing whenever Paris does that...

... But then again, Michael was at war with his record label, Sony, for years and was convinced they were not only sabotaging his career but also trying to murder him, yet he still was ready to go on a final tour that was going to make them A LOT of money. Like father, like daughter.

Honestly, I would not blame the entire Jackson family if they just made one last big documentary to try and clear Michael's name, then, regardless of how it was taken, packed all their shit and moved to a remote island, far away from the spotlight and never spoke to any journalist or had any social media presence again. They've been getting screwed over and surrounded by awful people in the industry, the media, and amongst other celebrities since the goddamn sixties, it's a miracle anyone of them is still trying to "play the game" or explain themselves.

[incorrecttowerofgodquotes]

Gundam: The Witch From Mercury Episode 12 Review

- On this episode of Gundam, we have pain and suffering!

- Already getting real fucking tired of Sophie. I mean I love psycho lesbians, but she’s seriously fucked up. Also it seems the Dawn of Fold girls are either genetically modified like El4n, or less stress is out in their body due to the absence of GUND Bits. However, the fact that they’re affected by Permet once again makes me question what the fuck is up with Aerial. Also Dawn of Fold has truly gone from resistance group to actual terrorists. Their job was to kill Delling, but they destroyed the base and murdered the people working there

- Prospera is the stinkiest fucking bitch in this series. She doesn’t even refer to Suletta as her daughter, just as “that girl.” And the brainwashing she’s doing to Suletta, telling her it’s perfectly fine to murder and not feel guilty is fucked up. The fact that her voice never changed tone in her entire convo with Suletta shows how fake she is. If she really cared about her daughter, she would comfort her and tell her that murder is wrong but sometimes a person has no choice, but they should always choose to prioritize lives and only kill when absolutely needed.

- The Earth Houses almost got caught up in the cross fire, but luckily Nika came to the rescue. Though now Martin saw her and knows she’s up to shady shit. It’s sweet that he knew she was missing and went back to her but he ended up seeing something he shouldn’t have. There are three ways this can play out:

1) Martin immediately tells the other guys and Nika gets excommunicated

2) Nika explains herself and Martine keeps it a secret

3) Nika’s terrorist upbringing kicks in and she kills him

- Shaddiq’s plans got foiled once again, but he doesn’t seem too shaken up. He wanted Delling’s head but he caused a big shakeup when in the Benerit Group still. But he’ll have to watch his back carefully. Because when one man learns he was behind this… he’s dead. Speaking of that man-

- Guel…just my boy Guel…

- I don’t think words can fully articulate how broken I am from that moment. But that’s not even a fragment of what Guel is feeling

- If this were any other anime, Guel would have came in just in time to help out, but instead he ended up murdering his dad. He tried to play the hero but he ruined his entire life. His thoughts of wanting to see Suletta again and not wanting to die really resound because he’s still just a child. He has so many things ahead of him, but now he’ll be stuck in a prison of self-torment due to his accidental patricide.

- Where will he go from this? Well they’re are a lot of ways, and none of them good. He could finally join the squad and either bond with Suletta (over both having killed a guy) or Miorine (over watching someone get killed brutally). Or he could go back to Jeturk and meet up with Lauda who’ll probably say he didn’t anything wrong, but that’s not at all what Guel wants to hear. Or he’ll go one a one man army to kill Shaddiq, either sneakily or just straight up fighting him and the harem. All I know is that my son is horribly traumatized and the show will probably go in for yet another punch in April

- Miorine and Delling’s moment really fucking hurt. Her dad wasn’t good to her, but he still wanted to protect her as decided by himself and her mother. Miorine, with all these conflicting feelings, wants her dad to lives cause even though she hates him, she still hopes that one day they could be a family. She’s doing her best to take care of protect her dad, even shielding him like he did to her when facing the end of a gun. And just when it looks like she’s saved by Suletta, everything crashes back down. The person she trusted more than anyone else and hoped to live the rest of life with committed a terrible atrocity in front of her and didn’t even care. I doubt she’ll be able to look at Suletta any longer, and any attempt to laugh it off will just hurt Miorine.

- Those tomato’s growing in the greenhouse… Miorine took such good care of them. She hoped to make them blossom and become their best selves. But Suletta squashed it. Now there’s nothing remaining but the icky guts of a once pure love.

- And now Suletta. frankly:

WHAT THE FUCK

- The way Suletta went from terrified of people being killed to happily squashing a man, making a joke about slipping in his innards, and then attempting to touch Miorine with those filthy hands is way too jarring. While some might say we’re carrying on from the Eri’s actions in the prologue, there’s a clear difference between the two. Eri had no idea what was happening. She just thought they were playing a little game on her birthday. She didn’t understand the concept of death. But Suletta fully knows well how precious life is and she squashed it under hand, making no mention of it. The problem is t that she killed a man, it’s that she disregarded him completely after he was dead. She continued on with her happy life, unburdened by the man who’s life was cut short. She had a choice. She could have put her hand in between them or pick him up and yeeted him, but she didn’t. She didn’t assess the situation and choose the option with no fatalities, she just jumped straight in with no regard for life and murdered a man.

- “If you run away you gain one, but if you move forward you gain two” This has been a message that permeates throughout the entire anime. At first, it’s very inspirational, but here we see the true colors of such a saying. Sometimes, it’s best to run away. Sometimes, it’s best to not use force. Because if you move forward, you have the capability of losing more than you gain. Guel attempted to move forward and killed his dad, Suletta attempted to move forward and lost her innocence as well as became a demon in Miorine’s eyes. Only Prospera, a revengeful woman still mad over having to leave in order to save Eri and her life would create such a saying. It’s a saying rooted in nothing but regret and burning hatred. Suletta’s blind faith in her mother has distorted the way she sees the world. Either she’ll be deprogrammed, or will be used as a weapon by her “loving” mother. However, only Suletta can do this. No one can save her but herself.

- With the second cour coming in April, we have a long ways to wait. Our three main characters, Suletta, Miorine, and Guel have all seen or committed an atrocity, one they will never fully heal from. Whether or not they can move forward in the good way, the bad way, or just run away is to be seen.

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐗𝐕𝐈 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂

(𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 /𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)

MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

A/N: Hey, everyone! How are you? I'm so sorry for the delay of this chapter, but it was really hard to write it. Everytime I thought it was ready, I decided to add more scenes and details on the narrative. What I planned to be a 3k chapter, ended up being an almost 7k. But enough of waiting now! I hope you enjoy it and have a great 2023💕 Also, I searched about those Russian traditions about flowers on internet. So if there's any mistakes, please, feel free to correct me!

summary: Nick and Hope have an argument about Katherine. Agatha and Gelya have a talk. In the meantime, Kirigan receives the news that Malyen Oretsev was found unconscious on the woods.

words: 6680

warnings: explicit violence, blood, death, a brief mention of self harm and a subtle spoiler of “Ruin and Rising”

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Nick started to suspect that something was wrong when Katherine had gone straight to her room with a scowl on her face and Hope arrived not so much better, not greeting anyone and ordering a drink in the bar. The hybrid stares at his cousin Levi by his side, but the man is already on Katherine's heels to know why she seems so distressed.

He gazes at the counter again, where the redhead is gripping the cup she was handed so strongly that her knuckles are white. Hope has such behavior when she is on the wrong side in a situation. She stays quiet in her place, bittering by herself about what happened and wondering if what she did was a good thing for her but bad for others.

Hope took Kat away from the General. His head is invaded with Levi's voice. Hurted Alina to get him out of the room and then kidnapped Kat.

Anything else? He replies telepathically.

All I know is that they argued a lot. Kat's crying as much as when Samson chose that light singer over her.

Nick takes a deep breath to not break something in the tavern. Samson was Katherine's worst lover, a fire singer who used to look with disdain at her shadows and pretend to accept her the way she was, but as soon as he met a light singer named Alys, he fled into her arms, who knew very well that he was committed to Katherine at that moment. Worst of all, his cousin and Alys were extremely close at the time, which caused Katherine to be betrayed by both sides: love and friendship.

It took almost a decade for her to stop grieving and blaming herself for that horrible situation, but once Katherine decided to recover fully, nobody could stop her. Many years later, when she learned to love herself more and loathe Samson and Alys, the two came after her for forgiveness. Unfortunately for them, it was too late; the answer to their wish was harsh insults that probably scarred them forever and a guilt that will accompany them to their grave. The shadow singer still receives a few letters asking for a second chance, but sets fire to it as soon as she sees Samson or Alys as recipients, not even bothering to open it.

So if Katherine is crying as much as she did when this betrayal happened, then there's only one answer: Hope triggered her insecurities about herself. The tears on her face right now are due to thoughts of not being worthy for someone and, therefore, never finding true love.

With clenched teeth, the hybrid immediately goes to the counter where the redhead is. He needs to discover what she said to be able to disprove any lie that Katherine's mind is telling herself. "What did you do?" She only takes a sip of the drink without looking at him. "Hope, what the fuck did you do?!"

"The right thing."

"And is that 'right thing' actually right? Because Kat is upstairs crying on Levi's lap!"

"I was protecting her."

He sits by her side, holding the urge to slap her. "Doesn't seem so."

"Kirigan's not good for her."

"That's not on you to decide, Hope!" Nick indignantly hits the wooden counter. "Especially when you are far from her to know what the hell's the effect he has on her!"

The tribid finally looks at him, her blue eyes full of rage. "And what the hell's the effect he has on her, Nick?!"

"A single one will shut you up: her shadows are silent towards him."

"Of course they are! He's a Shadow Summoner, you idiot!"

"No, Hope. They're silent in the same way they were towards uncle Elijah." Her mouth opens slightly in shock, her heart clenching at the meaning of this. "Do you remember what my mother said about that quietness? They only do it with someone they trust to keep Kat safe and happy forever, who will never give up on her or cause her sorrow!"

"No." Hope shakes her head in denial. "They're wrong."

"No, you are wrong!" He yells, ready to explode in fury. "We both know very well that there's no one more reliable in keeping Kat safe than her shadows. They have always had her back, since long before uncle Elijah met and adopted her! They were the ones who protected her from her parent's punches, who assured her that she wasn't the aberration her sisters talked about, who helped her survive on the streets when she ran away from home!" The hybrid lets out a tired sigh. "Why do you think they didn't warn her about uncle Elijah on the day they'd met? Because Kat would run and thus wouldn't be safe nor have a better life!"

"So you think they are doing the same with Kirigan? Wanting to show her that he's the key for a great life."

"I don't think that. I know that!"

She scoffs, unbelieving her cousin's opinion. "He'll break her heart."

"No, he won't. If her shadows trust him, then so do I." He adds when she opens her mouth to reply. "You haven't seen her, Hope. Every time she comes back after being with him, she's with a shy smile on her face or in a silent trance to find out what she feels. That happens every single time, no matter if they talked or only looked at each other."

"It might be because he's a living amplifier. Have you ever thought of that, Nick? He naturally attracts her in the same way as others!"

"He attracts Grishas, Hope! Amplifiers don't work in witches or in any other supernatural." He grunts, annoyed by his cousin and sick of arguing. "You know what? I'm tired of this shit. Tell me right now what you said to her."

The redhead finishes her drink and stands up to leave the tavern. "Forget it, Nick."

He immediately grabs her arm strongly, a silent order for her to sit down again. Although Hope's more powerful than him, Nick's able to fight her well, since he is a hybrid. Moreover, he's the one who naturally acts more like a leader, which made him leader of the Crescent Wolf Pack centuries ago, and is seen as a trustable and honorable figure in the entire New Orleans. That virtue of him helps him to build alliances all over the world, and Hope doesn't doubt he's already made some on Ravka.

A fight with Nick in this territory would be suicide. She would win, of course, but would shatter Ravkan Supernatural Community's trust in the Mikaelsons, something they need to recover all of Agatha's memories and not get caught by the Oprichnik.

"Did you say that she's only a pawn to him? That he prefers Alina?" Impatient, the hybrid hits the wooden counter. "Tell me, Hope!"

"He wants her power, not her! He will use her!" She yells at him, not caring if the entire tavern is looking at them.

Nick swears for a moment that he will transform into his wolf form due to rage. "Are you fucking deaf?! What part of 'her shadows trust him' didn't you listen to?!"

"He chose Alina over her! When she screamed, he ran to her instead of staying with Kat!"

"Was Kat hurt too?"

"What? No! I was careful with the spell."

"Then that's why he ran to Alina! I doubt he would ever leave the room if Kat was the one in pain." He pauses, realizing that this may be the reason why the shadow singer is upset and in tears right now. "You said that to her, didn't you? That he saved Alina over her."

Hope's face pales after noticing that she's just admitted what she did.

"I-I can't believe you've done that." Nick takes a deep breath, all the anger replaced by the sudden feeling of disappointment. "You know more than anybody else of her insecurities towards some light singers, of how she sometimes forgets her own value and doesn't think she's worthy."

Many who know Katherine think that her worst enemy is her biological family, some light singers or witch hunters, or even the Strix. However, only the Mikaelsons know that it's none of those, but her darkest side: the one that distorts events and makes her distrust herself, compares her to others, feels inferior and always thinks that she doesn't deserve an achievement. The shadow singer fights daily against this opponent, the thin white lines on her forearms that she did to herself are eternal reminders of that, and the fact that she didn't give in to this nemesis is why she's still alive.

Katherine's worst enemy is her own mind. If you know that and use it in your favor, you have the chance to wreck her entirely, as she's the one who will do the job of breaking herself even more.

Hope is sure she can feel her own heart shattering in pieces, for she now realizes that, in the heat of the argument, she took advantage of her cousin's dark mind just to hurt her. That's why Nick is so mad at her; he wouldn't be furious if separating the shadow singer from The Darkling or hurting Alina were the only problems. Loyalty was always crutial for him, the essence of every relation, and to know that someone of the family hurted another member without any plausible reason is pure betrayal.

Hope doubts now that Nick will ever leave her alone with Katherine again. Actually, she suspects that he might be thinking of an attempt to communicate with Katherine's shadows in order of her protection towards the tribid.

For a short moment, the redhead's blue eyes stare into the hybrid's browns. She starts running towards her cousin's room shortly thereafter, but Nick also has enhanced speed for being half werewolf and thus was able to catch up with her before she reached the door in the hall. With a clenched jaw, he opens his mouth to speak, however, is interrupted by a door slam. The two immediately look at the sound's direction, only to find Levi staring at them with a stern face.

"She wants to be alone now."

Hope pushes the hybrid to the side, trying to get closer to the bedroom. "I want to talk to her."

"Tomorrow."

"Levi, you don't understand! I need to apo—"

"You can do it tomorrow." His steady voice cuts her off like a sword. "It'll be better to have you two rested and cooled off from the argument."

The redhead analyzes him from the top to the bottom, wondering how she will make him move out of the door.

"Don't even think of that, Hope." Levi warns her. "Even if you get through me, you'll still have to pass through her shadows to get to her. And you know how they're protective over Kat."

Finally, she sighs in redemption. "I'll be here in the morning."

The tribid went straight to her room as soon as she arrived at the Little Palace, not talking to anyone and not going to dinner. Although she didn't have any sleep, she wrote a letter of the regret she felt about her harsh words in that argument. She even rehearsed in the mirror how she would act on every reaction Katherine might have in tomorrow's conversation.

The sun was beginning to rise when Hope left to go to Praecantrix, since she was anxious to redeem herself and beg her cousin for forgiveness. However, Katherine was nowhere in that tavern and no one there even knew that she had left at dawn.

Hope closes her eyes as she leans on the hallway's wall, concern making her stomach twist. Since they were young, the shadow singer has the habit of leaving at late hours to fulfill a plan, as the night is the time when darkness is stronger and therefore will protect her more. Usually these plans summarize on a kill that will just be discovered in the morning or days later.

"You better not get caught, Kat." And I really hope you're not killing the Sun Summoner now.

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Snowflakes fall slowly at dawn, taking time to disguise itselves with the glowing snow on the ground. Behind a large tree, Katherine can hear Malyen Oretsev's heavy breathing, probably trying to keep himself warm in the cold. With closed eyes, she tries to listen to someone accompanying him, but soon, after none of her shadows sense another presence, she comes to the conclusion that he is alone.

His friends died. Ikatris murmurs to her. Killed by Fjerdans.

"That will make things easier then." She bitterly whispers to him.

The tracker senses the witch's presence as soon as she emerges from her hiding place, his senses immediately showing him where she is. He stands up without hesitation, a knife in his hand and a loaded pistol in his belt, because somehow his intuition — which never fails — tells him that this woman is a threat. Even with just the weak light of a lantern he can see the fury in her light green eyes, a deep hatred that seems to corrode her soul. For a moment, the famous saying of "death stare" comes to his mind. He never believed it, and thought that if he ever saw one, it would surely be his own in a mirror after meeting The Darkling, the man who ripped the love of his life from his arms because she discovered her power.

"Have you found the stag?"

"You Grisha are so arrogant." He sneers, indignant at being treated like a servant. In the past he thought this would be temporary, but now he knows it will never end, especially since he's in the First Army and has to compete for recognition every day with Grisha.

"First I was mistaken as a mortal, and now I'm being mistaken as a Grisha." She snorts. "Ravkans level of ignorance is unbelievable."

"You're not Grisha?" Mal chuckles, thinking she is playing him, but stops as soon as he sees that her death stare increased — if that was even possible.

"I'm much worse than a Grisha, Malyen Oretsev." Her voice is stern, all said in an eerie calm while being still in her place.

"What are you? Who are you?"

"I'm a servant, just like you. Though you serve a repugnant pig that you call a tsar, and I serve nature."

"Nature?"

"Every witch is a servant of nature, Mr. Oretsev."

The tracker remembers the numerous times when he and Alina used to read books of myths in Keramzin, enjoying the legends of vampires, werewolves and faes. They were good though scary. However, the most frightening of them were the ones about witches, which made them fear for their lives and hug each other till they fell asleep. Witches were in all of these stories as a person that would curse someone if they didn't follow their desire.

His intuition was right: this woman is a powerful threat.

"You see, nature balances all kinds of magic so that life in the world works correctly. But that balance is fragile: it can break with a simple spell to revive the dead or with an amplifier that allows a species not born with magic to produce it—", an eerie smile forms at the corner of his lips "like the antlers of the mightiest stag in Ravka."

Nervousness starts to churn his stomach as she slowly approaches him and continues talking. "The Darkling wants the Sun Summoner to produce magic in order to dissolve the Unsea. Oh, Mr. Oretsev, I've seen countless times the consequences of a magical imbalance, and in all of them they were much worse than the action that made it, because nature always finds a grotesque way to recover that balance, and it's always immediate."

His heart sinks at the thought of Alina suffering such a violent consequence as the woman said. "Alina."

"She'll be the first one to die when the Fold is dissolved — a painful death, if I may opine on it. Honestly, I would love to see a lightscum have such fate—"

Mal clenches his jaw at the realization that the witch is a threat not only to him, but to Alina. "If you come near her, I will—"

"But I don't want to see my people suffering because of an action that she'll do." Katherine blatantly ignores him. "So I thought of how I can avoid that to happen, and the answer is pretty simple."

Hold him. She telepathically orders her shadows.

In a blink of an eye, he's knocked down in the snow, the pistol in his pocket soon thrown away and the knife he was holding is now in her hands. However, Mal notices that it isn't her who's restraining his limbs to keep him on the floor. "What the fuck are you doing to me?!"

Please tell me you're going to rip his heart out! Katherine hears Umbra's excited voice.

No, Umbra. She replies. He doesn't deserve such effort.

Can you at least make it quick? Ikatris asked. I rather not hold him for so long.

Don't worry. I won't torture him.

"The stag must be exactly wherever it is without you on its tracks, who's only doing it to be able to see your lover." The shadow singer touches his cold face. "I know that you haven't found it yet, Mr. Oretsev. I read your mind while you implied I was an arrogant Grisha."

"You fucking bitch!"

"Don't be like that, Mr. Oretsev." She increases the grip on his face in an attempt to control her rage. "Your lightscum may even reunite with you soon depending on my patience. You know, she has that extraordinary ability to easily piss me off."

An uncontrollable hatred makes Mal resist whatever that is pinning him to the ground. He fights with all his strength to break free and kill this soulless woman so that she never lays a finger on Alina. The person he loathes the most is no longer The Darkling, but this witch who he doesn't even know the name of.

For the first time in life, he makes a death stare, though unfortunately wasn't able to see it for himself.

The last thing he feels is her icy hands on his face breaking his neck. At the instant he hears the cringing sound of his bone fracturing, everything is dark. He doesn't feel Katherine stabbing his heart thrice with his own knife, nor does he see her pummeling his corpse as frustrated tears stream down her cheeks at the thought that she is once again second to someone with the power of light.

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Kirigan spent the night reading about The Handler, who's described as a maniacal person who makes unbreakable contracts that must be signed by their client's own blood. No one knows if they are a woman or a man, but it's certain that they are a witch or witcher, since they make wishes come true in exchange for something, especially, for a favor. The book also says that everyone who does a deal with this mad person is casted with a sigil spell which forbid them to say The Handler's true name or genre.

If you ever dare to irritate The Handler or attempt to deceive them, be prepared for true suffering. None who did these came back alive or sane.

The Darkling has just finished rereading the chapter for the third time when a paper was dragged to the top of the page, preventing him from reading the same words again.

You will regret it if you try to play her. She always wins a game.

He looks up to face the smiley shadow in front of him. Cheshire. That is his name. "It wasn't my intention to play her." At least not after I truly met her.

The dark figure writes something on the paper. You want her.

Kirigan takes a deep breath to keep himself calm. "I don't—"

Yes, you do. But to gain her, you have to understand her.

"Understand her?"

Listen to her, and then act.

He frowns. "What in the actual hell do you mean by that?!"

Cheshire's smile increases. You'll see.

He opens his mouth to answer it, but the creature flies to his desk's shadow, entering it without any noise or leaving a trace. The Darkling immediately stands up to search for the dark figure, but is interrupted with a knock on his door. Clearly annoyed, he recomposes himself before allowing whoever wants to talk to — and irritate — him.

"Moi soverenyi." Fedyor bows as soon as he enters. "The First Army General sent an urgent alert for you." He rolls his eyes, already impatient with whatever is going to be said. "A group of soldiers found in the woods the stag's tracker unconscious."

Kirigan freezes in his place, feeling one of his most important plans in life escaping through his fingers. "What?"

The Heartrender gives him a letter. "The messenger said that he was found early in the morning and was taken to the closest camp. The otkazat'sya General implied that your presence would be completely significant there."

"Fetch my carriage. You and Ivan are going with me." He looks at his desk in search of the stag's hunt reports. "And Fedyor."

The Corporalki turns to him. "Yes, moi soverenyi?"

"Don't tell anyone about that."

"You have my word, moi soverenyi." He bows before leaving to accomplish the Shadow Summoner orders.

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"You didn't do well in practice today."

Agatha looks up with a scowl on her face only to find Zoya Nazyalensky by her side. "You took some punches. I thought you were good enough to not be beaten."

"It hasn't been a good day."

"Why? Because of your horrible performance or because Baghra hit you again with that stick? Though this woman really can piss anyone off." She murmurs the last sentence to herself.

The hybrid turns her focus back to the untouchable meal at the table, not wanting to interact with someone in the moment. She's more worried about yesterday's events, of how Angelina got frightened by seeing what Hope did to Alina.

"It is rude to ignore others, Agatha. That's my personality, not yours."

"You don't know me." She whispers.

"But I know why you're so sullen today. Gelya really isn't one to avoid others." Agatha turns to the Squaller so quickly that it makes her neck ache. "Though you don't need to worry. I know how to help you."

A twinge of hope invaded her heart. "You do?"

"Her favorites are chrysanthemums." She pauses for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face, then turns to the air singer with urgence. "Choose whichever you find, but forget the yellow ones."

The hybrid frowns, confused. "Why?"

"Yellow flowers mean sorrow. If you go to her with one of these, she'll think you probably did something unforgivable or that someone died."

"Well, at least you warned me about that. My favorites are sunflowers, so—"

"And make sure to pick an odd number of flowers. Even numbers are for funerals." Agatha's jaw drops in more shock than before, and an amusement smirk appears on Zoya's lips, who's definitely enjoying the woman's reaction towards her culture. "Just follow what I said and go pick up the flowers, Agatha."

The air singer shakes her head, ending any reverie she was having, and stands up to head towards the garden. "On my way to do it." When she gets to the dining hall's door, she turns around and says: "Thank you, Zoya!"

"You're lucky I like you." The Grisha mumbles a sincere answer to herself, her blue eyes still on the room's entrance when Agatha leaves.

Agatha started her search for chrysanthemums as soon as she arrived at the garden, carefully choosing the best looking flowers to give to Angelina. It took almost half an hour until she was satisfied with the bouquet of white and pink chrysanthemums, all of the nine beautiful flowers with no indication that they would wither soon. After being satisfied with her job, she goes to the infirmary, praying to all the Ancestors that the Healer is there. The only place Gelya spends her time other than the infirmary is the Corporalki's secret chambers, where Agatha knows she won't be able to enter because that's not her Grisha order — though, for being Supernatural, she's not part of any of the three orders.

The hybrid takes a deep breath before entering the infirmary, anxiety reigning all over her body when Angelina's hazel eyes meet her brown ones. "Hey."

The Healer analyzes the room to be sure if there's anybody else with them before replying. After concluding that they were alone, she greets the woman in front of her. "Hi."

"I brought this to you." Agatha hands her the bouquet. "I picked them up myself."

Gelya slowly approaches her, a genuine smile forming into her mouth as she realizes that it's her favorite flower. "Chrysanthemums!"

"The wind told me they're your favorites."

She gently grips the bouquet of pink and white chrysanthemums and lets out a satisfied moan after breathing their aroma. "This wind of yours is very wise." Agatha chuckles, some of the tension released off her shoulders with the relief that Gelya is still willing to have a conversation with her. "Thank you. They're beautiful."

"Well, you know what they say: beautiful flowers are meant to have a beautiful owner."

The Grisha laughs while shaking her head in disbelief. "Who says that?"

"Me." She smirks. "I'm a first rate romantic with lots of experience." Though now I don't remember much of these experiences.

Angelina couldn't hold back another laugh. "You clearly seem to be."

"I appreciate your faith in me." The hybrid bites the inside of her cheek before revealing the main reason for coming to the infirmary, her stomach churning in nervousness. "I came here to apologize for what you saw."

"Agatha—"

"No, let me finish, please." She lets out a tired sigh, not ready to hear what the woman has to say. The Healer obeys, staring at the bouquet as a distraction, since she doesn't expect much from the words to come. "For now I don't know who I am, but I have an idea. And that idea might scare you. With good reason, of course, because if I were young and didn't have magic, like you, I'd be frightened too. From the memories I have, I've come to some conclusions about my power, my virtues, and the life I used to live before— you know." She hits her own head to symbolize the memory loss.

"The remembrances of my childhood take place in old settings, and one of the settings that most impressed me is the start of a witch hunt. My cousins ​​and I couldn't have been even twenty when the chaos started in that town. I remember my uncles running to get our things and my mom taking us back to New Orleans with a spell. But before that town disappeared, I saw through the window two people being hanged from a tree. They were convicted of witchcraft, and if we stayed, it would be my family and I who would've a noose around our necks."

Agatha takes a shaking breath, the pain of having already been hunted for being Supernatural poking at her heart. "I'm telling you that because I suspect this memory is from the Salem Witch Trials, which happened centuries ago." The tear she was holding back trickles down her face. "I am old, Gelya... and a hybrid. Half werewolf and half air singer witch. My whole family is Supernatural, they taught me how to survive. I already killed and tortured and, honestly, I think I like that because I don't mind hurting some people." She closes her eyes to not see Angelina's reaction, dreading the fear that must be in her face. "The spell Hope casted in Alina yesterday hurt due to the blood vessels bursting inside her head; it's discreet yet daring. My guess is that my mom taught us this spell when we were young in order for us to know how to protect ourselves without getting caught."

"Agatha—"

"I'm so sorry that you saw that. Magic can be beautiful, it really can, but most of the time it's dangerous. You don't need to forgive me, Gelya, but trust me when I say that you're too pure for this world. And I'm a heathen, a savage to many people."

The Healer's eyes widened even more after hearing the last sentence. "What? No!"

"Yes, I am, Gelya." Agatha opens her wet eyes to finally face her, the pain in her chest still present. "For being a Grisha, you only have small science, which isn't considered that abnormal. On the other hand, I have magic and for that I'm considered a freak. It's easier for them to hunt a Supernatural than a Grisha, so you're safer without me."

Angelina shakes her head vehemently in denial. "Ravka's more acceptable. We can—"

"Ravka's acceptable for you, Gelya. Supernaturals are myths here, and I know they'd rather continue to be treated like that than bow down to mortals, who have persecuted them for so long."

"We can fix that. You can still be here, in Ravka, and feel acceptable."

It was the air singer's turn to shake her head, not accepting the subtle idea of pretending to be someone she isn't. "I don't want to pretend that I'm a Grisha."

"Then we change the world!" She puts the bouquet away to grip Agatha's face, consequently forcing the woman to stare straight into her eyes. "I saw the way the General and your cousin looked at each other, it's the same as how I look at you. They're like us: a Grisha and a Supernatural, a Ravkan and an American."

"Kat's British."

"If they show their union in public, then we can show ours." She blatantly ignores her correction. "No tsar's guard will be able to stop us because he has to be an idiot to want to clash with the General."

"The tsar is an idiot, Gelya. He'll clearly try to threaten Kirigan."

"Then we'll be on the General's side! The winning side, which has a leader that knows what it feels like to be hunted and knows that the Supernatural aren't freaks." Angelina's lips slightly brush against Agatha's, her warm breath hitting the dark skin when she murmurs: "That you aren't a freak."

The hybrid inspires deeply in an attempt to ease the shivers that are running through her spine. "I know, but some people don't."

"Then fuck them."

Agatha's smile reaches her eyes when she leans down to kiss the Healer, who happily retributes it. Her arms swing to Angelina's waist, while the other's hands leave the air singer's face to wrap them around her neck. Both of them feel all the tension and nervousness leaving their body, the only sensations being their heart beating loudly against their chests and the butterflies flying inside their stomach.

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

By the end of the ride to the First Army's camp, Kirigan concluded that Katherine's the current ruler inside his head, since she didn't let go of his thoughts for not even a second. Who took her from him? Is she alright? How can he find her again? Does she feel the same as him?

No. The last question is just paranoia. Of course she feels the same need to be close to him, the same emotions he feels for her. After all, she's his true equal, for Saints' sake!

After the horses are untied from the carriage to be fed, the First Army general's most loyal lieutenant greets The Darkling and the two Heartrenders. The Shadow Summoner didn't know much about the tracker's state, yet wished he was alright for him to continue with the stag's hunt as soon as possible. This is one of the last steps for his plan to be fully realized. He has Alina on a string, and not only is she ignoring Baghra's complaints about her having an amplifier, but is excited about getting one so she can dissolve the Fold. Kirigan isn't a fool either, he knows how to hide his true intentions from everyone and, therefore, the entire Ravkan court and Second Army are faithfully by his side, thinking he is fighting to end the Unsea. However, as Katherine said, there's only one community that loathes him for this "good cause": the Supernatural.

Saints, he cannot imagine the chaos that would break out in the country if the Shadow Fold was ended! The Supernaturals are even more persecuted than the Grisha, which leads to two possibilities: either they would flee Ravka, or they would revolt after so much oppression, since the Unsea it's what most protects them from hunters. The latter idea is what dreads him the most, since these people have merzost. If they decided to fight for respect in towns, it would be a matter of hours before they defeated the First and Second Army entirely. Fortunately for Ravka, the General won't dissolve the Fold, and due to that, there won't be any sort of upheaval from this community; witches, werewolves, vampires and faes, even though hidden, might be content for still being safe enough compared to the period before the Unsea's creation.

"He got here unharmed, but the blood-soaked shirt is an odd factor." Kirigan shakes his head to look at the soldier leading them to the infirmary tent. "We analyzed the area and there was no evidence of anyone who could have injured him, however, he insists that he was held down by someone until his neck was broken." The man couldn't hold back the mockery laugh, definitely thinking that Mal became insane for saying such stupid things. "He said it was a witch! Can you believe that, moi soverenyi?"

The Darkling had to contain a surprised expression, for a moment hoping that the tracker remembered the witch. If he did, Kirigan could manage to capture them and finally see with his own eyes that Katherine was right: there are Supernaturals in Ravka, and they despise him for having the idea of getting the Shadow Fold dissolved.

The General heads straight to Malyen Oretsev's bed while making a silent order to Ivan and Fedyor dismiss everyone from the infirmary. The otkazat'sya looked at him in disgust, probably grudging that Alina was now a Grisha and lives in the Little Palace.

He smirks by knowing that even if this tracker wanted to hurt him, he would fail miserably by attempting it. "Mr. Oretsev. What a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Mal only stares at him in silence, hating to have to hear The Darkling's voice. "The soldiers told me about what happened."

"So why are you here? Because I doubt that it's to check on my well-being."

Kirigan holds the urge to make the Cut on him. "You claim to have been held until a witch broke your neck."

"This happened."

"I'm here to assure the stag hunt. After all, you are the best tracker in the First Army and—"

"I've lost it."

For an instant, the Grisha's leader forgot everything that he would say to the otkazat'sya. Instead of continuing his speech, he deeply gazes at the man on the bed. "What?"

"My ability to track."

"Pardon?!"

"Before, I could feel things, get a sense of where to start no matter where I was. My intuition used to guide me to the place, it was like a gift. But now it's gone. I don't feel the stag's location anymore. Even if you put me back where I was, I won't know how to continue with the hunt."

"This intuition. Why do you think that it's gone forever?"

"Because she fucking killed me!" Mal yells, feeling his blood starting to boil just by remembering that fucking witch. "She broke my neck! And I'm fucking sure that she stabbed me!"

"They said that you had no wounds."

"But my shirt was fucking wet with blood. My blood! I'm not mad or— or insane! I know what I saw! I can still feel her hands on my face and— and a pain on the side of my neck where she fucking twisted!" She. A woman did this.

The General clenches his jaw at the thought of someone messing with his plans, plans that he was so close to achieving. He's going to kill this person for taking away Mr. Oretsev's gift of tracking, for ending his chances to get the stag. He doesn't care anymore that the Supernatural's hatred towards him will increase if he kills that witch; she will pay for this. The only thing he has to be careful while murdering her is for Katherine not to find out. She might truly do worse to him if she discovers that he ended someone of her kind.

"What happened there, Mr. Oretsev? Who is this woman?"

"I don't know! I've never seen her in my life." He takes a shaking breath in an attempt to calm down. "She appeared out of nowhere asking me about the stag and then told me some shit about nature balance." Definitely a witch. Kirigan thought while wondering if all witches care about nature balance, since Katherine already told him about it. "She was with that death stare on her face, ready to kill me. And fucking succeeded."

"What was her appearance?"

"I only focused on her eyes back then... Light green. But she was brunette too... And white."

The air in his lungs stops after hearing the woman's description. A brunette witch with light green eyes and white skin who explained about nature's magical balance. That is literally Katherine.

He doesn't know how long he was frozen in place as he imagined his equal committing murder. He just knows he snapped out of his reverie when he saw a piece of paper exiting from the shadow of Mal's bed, the same way Cheshire had walked into the shadow of his desk earlier today. The Darkling crouches down to pick up the paper, amazed to see the scrawled handwriting he's known for exactly one night.

West border of the Fold. The first one without guard.

The General immediately starts to walk away. "Have him track things around the camp so we can try to retrieve that intuition of his."

"Yes, moi soverenyi." Ivan says while staring at otkazat'sya. On the other side, Fedyor curiously follows the leader to the tent's entrance. "Where are you going?"

"Doesn't matter."

Kirigan mounts his black stallion and starts riding as fast as possible to the west of the Unsea, urging to quickly find the part with no one guarding the Fold. For some reason Katherine must be there, and he needs to interrogate her about Malyen Oretsev, demand the reason she did this. From what it seems, she didn't even know the tracker until then! So why kill him?

He stops his horse at the moment he sees a thin figure sitting with its back to him, silently facing the Fold. The Darkling descends from his stallion panting and in need of a rest, but that is no greater need than knowing the truth. Slowly he approaches the person, a shiver runs down his spine as he notices the dried blood on the woman's hands dissolving on the white snow.

"Katherine?"

"I was so blind." Her voice is void, the tone of someone lost in their own thoughts. "Thank the Ancestors that they opened my eyes!"

He frowns, confused. "Blind about what? Who opened your eyes?"

"The shadows."

The General can feel all of his patience leaving every inch of his body. He's tired of questions without any explanations. He wants answers, damn it! "About what?!"

He swears that he stopped breathing for a moment when she finally turned to him. She's a mess. With red puffy eyes and dried tears on her cheeks; her dark brown hair, completely tousled; her gown, stained with blood; an expression of pure shock on her face as she stares at him. "About you being the Black Heretic."

The Grisha glares at the witch with clenched fists, the only thing stopping him from attacking her is the fact that she's his equal. She discovered his deepest secret, the one that made him fake his death several times and return to the Little Palace with fake names and the lie that he is only a descendant of the Black Heretic. How did Katherine find out about this through shadows? He doesn't see any papers lying in the snow or in her hands, after all.

But alright. If Katherine wants to play this game, then he will play it.

"It's quite ironic how you accuse me for being someone as horrible as people describe, when you are the same as me. Am I right, The Handler?" He looks down at her pale hands stained in a scarlet liquid "Or should I say the murderer of my tracker?"

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!

[zorubark]

I realized Im just like my mom, whenever I cry because of something she said, she does the thing where you outwardly put blame on yourself and self deprecates and YOU seek consolation. I don't like when she does it, I can't explain well what I feel when she does it right now, but I know I don't like it but I fucking do the same I did the same before knowing she did that I got it from her, I have the fear of fully taking the blame in and just ackowledging myself I didn't know how people got bad traits from their parents, I never looked up to this thing she does, I never even realized she did it, but I still got it, I don't understand what happens I felt my experiences invalidaded, she sighed, "ah meu deus…", "eu não devia ter dito nada", those words, for more that it blamed herself, it still felt like I was supposed to feel bad for her, when I recognized that, I cried more. Because I realized where that toxic trait I had came from. I realized even that I knew about how kids take their parents toxic traits, even though I knew about that and didn't want it to happen, it still did. I heard a story that a guy posted about how horrible he felt that he became like his dad, I thought, "well, I'm gonna try to be more aware then." I felt like I couldn't break the cicle, like I'm not gonna be free from this as long as I live with my mother. She doesn't seem willing to try to change that, she would probably do the self loathing pitty-seeking again, and I again would feel bad for trying to talk her down and trying to make her realize something about her and try to change that. My brother, months ago, maybe a year already, told me that I do this when I'm guilty of something, I started to self deprecate because I wanted to seek confort for feeling guilty, in that situation, I should understand guilt and not drown in it like I did before, I thought not feeling immense guilt made me selfish and a monster, but I realized I didn't have to feel like I commited a sin, and this made me be able to feel calmer when I commited mistakes, I was able to think before self wallowing in fear and guilt. Where did this all come from? Where did this all come from? Where did. All of this.. .. Come from?

I ask myself with a weak voice inside my head, my internal narration sounds like it's about to cry, I truly feel connected to my thoughts at this moment. "I did so much to change myself! Many times my brother told me about my flaws and I took them to heart! Many times I discovered flaws through tumblr posts of all things! And what did I do? I tried to change them! I analyzed myself! Why do I have to be the only one trying to make a change?? Why do I have to get better but not her!?!?" Recoiled, alone, yerning, helpless, afraid, angry, biting my knee, I noticed a bunch of tears continuously going down my face and I wondered if it wet the paper I was drawing on, everytime I see the tear mark on paper, I feel so sad, because even with this physical mark of how dejected I felt, it still didn't do anything. Many times I cried and felt anguish at how my face was dry and no one would have known I cried, they would just approach me like it's a normal day when I actually needed support and gentleness. But after my tears ended up on paper so many times now, I realize my wish of my sorrow being seen wasn't gonna come like that, I still didn't understand how, and I still don't do.

I only truly feel comforted by her when the problem isn't attributed to her, if I say "you made me cry a lot, please understand that what you said made me feel like this", she gets defensive and recoils from the acolhedora and gentle attitude she could have had earlier. How am I supposed to handle this? I'm not being able to stop being a sponge, how do I stop this? How do I stop myself from turning into the worst moments I had with my mom?

[colinrobinsonn]

ahhh I never write fics but here’s nandor x guillermo after this week’s ep 🥺

- x -

Guillermo sat on the front steps of the house after driving back from dropping off the Baron, the Sire, and the hellhound at their new home in New Jersey. It had been a long, long night and he should really be heading to bed but he just needed a few moments of quiet.

The night air was sharp and the dark sky had only a few clouds overhead. Today had been successful, yes, but also very scary. He wasn’t thinking about facing the Sire, or the Baron again (although it had terrified him). No, he could not let go of the horrible feeling he’d been having all day that he may lose his entire family.

He heard the front door open quietly and he turned round to see Nandor coming out the door and walk towards him.

“Ah, Guillermo, there you are. What are you doing out here? It’s fucking freezing.”

“Just taking a minute.”

Nandor came and sat next to Guillermo on the same top step, looking out onto the street and then up at the sky as Guillermo was. It was quiet for a few moments between them, then Guillermo turned to Nandor, “Was there something you wanted, Master? You were looking for me?”

Nandor didn’t turn to look at him as he said, “Oh, nothing…”

“Okay…” Guillermo let the silence linger on.

“It’s just-“ Nandor began before he noticed Guillermo shiver. He was only wearing his shirt and waistcoat and the sun was, obviously and fortunately for Nandor, yet to come up. “You’re cold.”

Guillermo put his arms around himself, “Yeah, I guess it’s a little chilly.”

“Why don’t you go back inside?”

Guillermo shrugs, not being able to explain why he wants to be outside right now. Maybe he’s enjoying sitting here peacefully with Nandor under the night sky too much. Maybe he needs to clear his head. “But your fragile human body is going to freeze to ice. You don’t want to be made into an ice chip do you, Guillermo?”

“What? I’m not going to-“ he shakes his head, huffing quietly from Nandor’s ridiculousness, “I’m fine.”

Nandor stares at him, fangs bared, like he doesn’t believe him, like he really will turn into an ice chip in a few moments. “Eesh, fine. Here,” he says as he unclasps his black cape and drapes it delicately over Guillermo’s shoulders, and then quickly turns back to look at the sky.

Guillermo froze - not into an ice chip - but out of surprise, slight nervousness, and an uncertainty about how to react to Nandor’s… kindness. “Thank you, Nandor,” he went with, looking up at his strong profile.

“You are welcome, you will not freeze now and I will not have to defrost you and ruin my precious Persian rugs,” he replied matter-of-factly, nodding his head and putting his hands straight out on his knees.

Guillermo grabbed the cape and brought it round his body to wrap up in. The material was very warm and as he brought it up towards his chin he became very aware of being surrounded by Nandor’s very distinct and familiar scent: of oils and incense and musk, of history and comfort and home.

Nandor looked at his bodyguard and felt his dead heart constrict. The sight of Guillermo snuggled into his cape with a content smile on his face challenged Nandor. It challenged him to give in. To give in to feelings of softness towards Guillermo which he mostly did not allow himself to give into, and was always weary of whenever he was around him. Or saw him. Or thought about him. For Nandor, it was Him, for he had become everything. Everything he believed in, everything he fought for, and everything he smiled for. It is suffice to say, he did not win the challenge, but it felt good to lose.

“Guillermo-“, he took a quick breath in and held it, “I came to say that I am sorry for what happened today.”

“Huh? But we did it, we-“

“Just-“ Nandor put his hand up to tell Guillermo to let him finish.

“I am sorry for how you were treated today and if that hurt your feelings. I mean, it should hurt your feelings but I don’t know if you always let it.”

“Mas- Nandor, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Guillermo said. Nandor could literally be talking of about twenty different points today where his feelings could have been “hurt”.

“You know what I am talking about,” Nandor growled, impatient. He shot up off the steps and paced in front of Guillermo. Did he want to make him feel even more ashamed? He guessed he deserved it. He calmed his voice, “I am talking about the time when I allowed for you to be used as bait for the Sire.”

“Oh.” Guillermo breathed out, looking up at Nandor who had stopped his pacing now and was looking at Guillermo. There was a small silence, and then Guillermo also stood up and walked down the steps towards Nandor, cape still round him and falling far below onto the floor.

As he stood in front of Nandor, Nandor could not stand how adorable he looked wearing his cape, oversized on him. It made him feel… protective and proud.

Nandor was too caught up in his thoughts so Guillermo spoke first, “That’s my job, right? To protect you?”

“Yes, I suppose it is…” Nandor said quietly, unsure as Guillermo approached him further.

“But I would have done it anyway. I always would have.” It’s true, he went the extra mile whilst he was his familiar and even before he didn’t know of his bloodline.

Nandor did not know what to say to that. So instead he focused on how the cape was falling off of one of Guillermo’s shoulders. Without thinking, he raised his arm and pulled the material back up and around his shoulder.

He did this with such care and without agenda that it made Guillermo choke up slightly. He felt tingly all in his chest and willed himself to hold on. To not fall too far tonight, as he did so many nights, especially since Meg’s comments at Massive Fitness. As much as he was committed to Nandor, he could never let himself believe that Nandor felt the same.

The small act felt unnaturally natural for Nandor. When he fully comprehended what he was doing, he did not have the instinct to jump back and push Guillermo away, to tell him to get out of his way. Instead, the act made his next words come much easier.

“Guillermo… it should be my job to protect you. You came into my life, and it is a dangerous one. I have… taken too much from you, and you should not be willing for me to take your life.”

The double meaning was there. Yes, he was talking about what happened today, but Guillermo could not help but apply Nandor’s words to his own vampiric dream.

“No.” Guillermo could not, would not, keep going on like this. “It’s not that you have taken too much from me, Nandor,” he said with conviction, “it’s that you haven’t given me enough.”

“Guillermo…-“

“I’d die for you,” Guillermo said bluntly and laughed, “you know that? I would actually die for you. Not become undead, not become a vampire, I would die.”

Nandor looked away from him and took a step back, “Do not speak this way, Guillermo.”

“And I’m fine with that, I am,” he continued, “you’re not taking anything away from me, I’m giving it to you, because I want to. Because that’s how I feel.” Guillermo felt breathless from the outburst and he was slightly shaking, not just from nerves, but because the cape had unwound itself from his middle and only lay across his shoulders again. He shook his head slightly; tonight of all nights he was going to go there. “How do you feel, Nandor?”

“I-“ Nandor was stunned and his brain was working overtime to keep up with his little ex-familiar.

In all of his anxious tension, Nandor’s hesitance was too much. Guillermo huffed and span round to go back inside.

Nandor’s chest clenched and his heart fell, he couldn’t stand the sight of Guillermo walking away from him anymore. “Wait-“ he said as he grabbed Guillermo’s hand and gently pulled him back round to face him. The cape fell off his back.

Guillermo looked up at him, small tears in his eyes as he waited with little hope. His optimistic heart started again, however, when Nandor brought his hand up and drew his fingers through the front of Guillermo’s hair, sweeping it gently to the side and pushing small strands behind his ear. Guillermo’s heart was beating so hard he was sure Nandor could hear it, feel it even. His hand landed delicately on Guillermo’s cheek, like he was touching something precious, and he leaned in.

As their lips touched tears ran down Guillermo’s cheek which Nandor smoothly wiped away with the pads of his thumbs, as he brought his other hand to Guillermo’s other cheek. Guillermo was once again encased by Nandor, except this was the real thing and infinitely better. Guillermo’s hand found its way to Nandor’s neck, his fingertips pushing their way into his hair.

The kiss was gentle and undemanding; a shy but loving meeting with someone you have loved for years. Nandor pulled away but only slightly, so their foreheads rested against each other’s. Their eyes were both closed as they breathed unevenly with each other.

“Guillermo, I would die a thousand times over for you to have one more minute alive.”

Guillermo, teary, giggled dizzily and with relief at the vampire’s words and opened his eyes to find Nandor’s still closed.

“Hey,” Guillermo said as he leaned away and gently urged Nandor to open his eyes by putting his hand under his chin, “so… we’ll protect each other, right?”

Nandor had opened his eyes and was looking down at Guillermo who wore a bright, understanding smile on his face. His cheeks were quite pink and so Nandor leaned down to pick up the fallen cape and pull it back around the smaller man. He held on to Guillermo’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the top of it, where the knuckles lay. “Always.”

[ghostbustermelanieking]

67 for the kiss prompts 👀

of course it's another safehouse fic! warning for some self-loathing on the parts of jon and martin. 

67. When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More.

Jon's on the phone with Basira in the other room. Martin can hear the rise and fall of his voice through the walls. He halfway wishes he'd said yes to Jon's offer to put her on speaker—he wants to know how bad it is. Wants to know exactly how badly he fucked up when he followed Peter into those tunnels (in more than just the obvious ways). 

Jon's said it wasn't his fault. Said that this morning, over the eggs he'd scrambled on a whim that were going cold on Martin's plate, covering Martin's hand with his: "It wasn't your fault, Martin. It wasn't. I-it wasn't even just the Not-Sasha, it… Trevor and Julia…" And then he'd stopped, a pained expression on his face, and Martin knew he wasn't the only one feeling guilty for everything that happened at the Panopticon the day before. 

The reality of Jon being here is still so new, so strange, after not talking for months, for a year, what with the coma, and the Lonely… Martin doesn't think he ever even had Jon to his flat before this; he thinks he suggested it once, after a drink one night, if Jon wanted to come back and have some tea, and Jon had politely said no, thank you, with a look in his eyes that made Martin think maybe he was thinking about all the kidnappings. So, yes, this is the first time Jon's ever been here. After months of silence, months of Martin talking himself out of going down the hall and talking to Jon, telling Jon how glad he was that he's alive, how sorry he was that he couldn't stay, how much he hated this, every bit of it… After it all, Jon came for him. Peter's dead, and there's no reason for them to stay away now. 

It's a relief, beyond what Martin will ever be able to articulate, but it's still strange, after all this time. Waking up in his bed to find Jon lying on the other side, stiff and tentative under the covers. To find Jon in the kitchen after a shower, making eggs and tea. To have Jon halfway holding his hand. Even after everything—after that period before the Unknowing where they were really sort of friends… this is surreal in a way Martin can't really explain.

Jon had actually held his hand all the way out of the Lonely, all the way back to his flat. Had reached for it over the expanse of Martin's mattress and held on. Martin doesn't remember him letting go. He doesn't remember ever wanting him to. It's a good surreal, he thinks. It's good. 

Jon comes out of the kitchen, now, his hand clutched around his phone, his face grim. Martin startles a little, his hands clenching together in his lap. "H-how was it?" he says. "Is it… d-do they have any sign of…" (Basira had filled them in on Daisy last night.)

"No, no, no sign." Jon sighs a little. Sits down on the couch beside Martin, so close their knees bump together. He doesn't meet Martin's eyes. 

Martin feels a habitual lump of worry rise in his throat. "You can tell me, Jon," he says, in case Jon is trying to shield him somehow. "It's… it's bad, isn't it?"

"I… yeah. Yeah, it's not good." Jon looks at him finally, his expression suggesting that’s all he’s going to say, like he’s going to try and protect Martin no matter what Martin says. “Basira… Basira says they’ll blame me,” he adds. “Again. She says they were already asking questions, they… sh-she said they’ll be looking for me again.”

" What? " Martin's aware his voice sounds insulted, and he is, on Jon's behalf, framed again for murders he didn't commit. (Well. Jon did kill Peter, but. Martin's not mourning that, not at all, he deserved it, and Peter isolated himself enough that the police shouldn't be looking for him. And the thought of Jon being blamed again for something he didn't even do…) "You didn't do anything, h-how can they blame you?"

Jon laughs a little, quiet bitterness in there. "It's easy. A-and it is my fault, sort of. I'm the one who antagonized Julia and Trevor. I'm the one who… who kept that stupid table, and then destroyed it and let that thing out. I'm the one who…" He stops. Winces, shakes his head a little. "I-it doesn't matter," he says. "Basira's sure they'll blame me. She says I need to get out of London." 

Martin latches onto that, his heart leaping in his throat. Maybe he has no right to be this concerned, considering he's holed himself up for months, ignoring Jon and working with Peter for a plan that didn't even do anything —but he can't help but panic at the idea of Jon leaving again, going somewhere else, somewhere where they can't keep him safe… Not that Jon isn't entirely self-sufficient, he's been fine all this time, he's saved Martin, and not that Martin's been doing a good job at all, considering everything, Jon came into the Lonely because of him and could've just as easily been lost, and it would've been his fault. But after everything… America, Ny-Alesund, the Unknowing, every time Jon went somewhere and Martin didn't, and something horrible happened, and Martin just… 

He tries to force the panic out of his voice, tries to speak levelly when he says, "Leave… leave London? And go where? "

"Scotland, apparently. Daisy has a safehouse that she… that she obviously won't be doing, and Basira said…" Jon swallows hard, looks away. "Well, she said I should leave right away. She said she would bring me the key here, and I should leave on the next train." 

"Oh," says Martin. A part of him is nearly shouting, Don't go, don't leave me here, but this is ridiculous, Jon has to go, and he can't ask… not after everything Jon's done… (But he doesn't want Jon to leave, he doesn't want to be alone again.) "I… y-yeah. Yeah, that's best," he says, because he can't, and he'd rather have Jon alive and somewhere else than arrested or dead, again, and his throat is closing up a little. "If they're looking for you, you should leave as soon as possible." 

"Right," says Jon. "Right, a-and I would…" He's staring down at his hands, intently, like he's trying to find answers in the lines of his palms. Martin is thinking absently that he does that, too, and isn't it funny how many habits he and Jon share that he's never realized, when Jon looks up abruptly. He's got an expression that's almost shy on his face; he says, "I-I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

They're quiet for a moment.. Martin's staring; he thinks he definitely might be staring. His mouth might be hanging open. Jon starts talking again, too fast and stammering and anxious: "O-obviously if you don't want to, th-there's no obligation, of course, i-it's just that I… well, I haven't seen you for such a long time, Martin, and w-we just started talking again, and I… I thought you might want t-to get out of here, maybe, the Institute, it's… and I don't want you to be alo—" 

Martin kisses him. Leans forward, just like that, and abruptly kisses Jon, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jon makes a little sound, a punched-out gasp, and his hand moves up, resting suddenly against Martin's jaw. 

It takes a moment for Martin to fully connect his actions— Jon just asked me to go to Scotland and You just kissed him —and he pulls away abruptly. "I-I'm sorry," he says wildly, thinking I should've asked, thinking Martin, you idiot, just because he followed you into the Lonely doesn't mean he wants to… 

Jon's looking at him. His eyes are dark and wet and full of some emotion Martin can't place, and he's just looking at him. His hand is still on Martin's jaw, his fingers warm against Martin's chilly skin. Martin's eyes dart to the side—to Jon's fingers, his bitten nails, resting against Martin's cheek—and then back to Jon. "I'm sorry," he says again, and Jon shakes his head, just a little. Rubs a thumb over Martin's cheek. 

The gesture is enough to make Martin want to break. Just shatter in a dozen little pieces inside. He's not sure what to say—his brain, wildly grasping, comes up with, "Are you sure you—" And Jon leans forward, just as abruptly as Martin did, and kisses him again. Kisses him gently, sweetly, with a sort of underlying desperation that sounds like it did in the Lonely last night. We need you. I need you. His hands are still on Martin's face. 

Martin makes a little sound of shock. Fumbles up with shaking hands to cover Jon's hand with his, to grasp it gently and desperately (the way Jon is kissing him) and not let go. Not this time.

Jon's the one to pull away, first, just far enough to rest his forehead against Martin's. He laughs a little, nervous energy, and doesn't let go of Martin's hand. "You don't need to apologize, Martin, you…" He laughs again, quietly. "I'm very sure. I am. I've been wanting to do that for… quite a long time."

"Oh," Martin says faintly, his thumb tracing the line of Jon's palm. "You have?"

Jon nods, his forehead thunking lightly against Martin's with the motion. Martin chuckles. "Me… me, too."

"Oh," Jon says softly. He squeezes Martin's hand. 

Martin looks down at their joined hands (on his knee, now), leaning into Jon a little. (Just a little.). "Yes," he says, and there is no tremble, no hint of hesitation in his voice. He's sure about this, maybe the surest he's been in a long time. "Yes, I'll go to Scotland with you."

[burnedbyshoto]

initiation

— “Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.” The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader + todoroki family x fem!reader (endeavor x reader; touya x reader; fuyumi x reader; natsuo x reader)

warnings: 18+, smut, hardcore, gangbang, cream pie, choking, degradation, breeding, slapping, anal, anal fisting, size difference, finger gag, piss kink, older sister kink, facesitting, squirting, handcuffing, sadist!todoroki’s, masochist!reader, fuck machine, daddy kink, overstimulation, rimming, punishment, cucking, double penetration, biting and marking, mating press, orgasm control, slapping, praise, latex, healable branding, blow Job, hair pulling, mental break

word count: 28,823

a/n: i kept the beginning & rewrote the rest of this. like last time, please do not read if you’re even remotely uncomfortable with hardcore settings. this is some twisted cult mind thinking the todorokis family got in this fic. it’s not for everyone, stop reading immediately if its not for you. thank you & sorry. it took 3 hours for me to transfer this all over LOL ;-;

kinktober day 10 main kink: gang bang | kinktober masterlist

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Golden wisps of light shone through the open window; the gentle winds of spring pushed forward, filling the quiet room. Shouto lay in the warmth, blocking you from the light, casting shadows on your face. He had woken up moments before, his chest warms with content and deep admiration while he drank in your sleeping form.

Last night had been your fifth anniversary, and as a couple who was always doing something in the day, the night had been perfect for the two of you. Shouto had made the both of you dinner; he’d had Bakugou teach him how to make your favorite meal (Bakugou might have also fixed the seasoning when Shouto wasn’t looking). The two of you enjoyed a night of dinner, video games, and passionate, amazing sex. 

Shouto knew that there had been something wrong with you. There was the smallest bit of disappointment in your aura for the entirety of dinner, significantly heightening at the end of desserts. It had faded with time, talking, and interaction, but he had seen it, felt it lick against his chest in slow, chilly tendrils. 

Under the covers of the bed and the warmth of the rising sun, Shouto reached out and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

Your skin was soft under his rough fingers, and he slowly traced the curves and lines on your face. Dipping down to where your lips were and traveling in the part between the lips he knew intimately. There was no stopping him when Shouto’s lips pressed against the tip of your chilled nose. 

But it was enough of a touch to wake you up. Shouto watched your heavy eyelids part open, tired eyes coming to meet his own in a kind gaze.

“Good morning, my love,” Shouto murmured.

Your dry lips smacked together, a grumble deep in your throat while you shifted your naked body closer to him. “Morning, you're warm…” you mumbled into the valley between his pecs. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

“Mm, horrible,” you grunt, and Shouto chuckled. He wasn’t much of a morning person either, but you were someone who put even night owls to shame when waking up. 

“I’m going to go shower, then I’ll make us breakfast,” Shouto told you, his fingers brushing your hair from your face. “Want to join?”

“So you can try to sex me up in the shower?” you scoff, but your tone is light, joking, loving. “I’ll take five minutes of extra sleep.”

“You’re a brat,” Shouto smiles, unable to keep the joy from his voice while you chuckle throatily. He presses a kiss to your mouth, ignoring both of your gross mouths before going to do as he said. 

The shower didn’t take long, and Shouto was dressed in sweats before moving out to the kitchen. As he prepared breakfast, he heard the shower turn on, and he smiled softly that you had taken the initiative to get out of bed before breakfast was ready. By the time he was wrapping up, you had emerged from the bedroom.

You wore an oversized shirt of his, barely reaching down to the curve of your ass.

“Mm, thank you,” you chirp when Shouto places the plate of food before you; it was nothing crazy, just a bowl of white rice made via the rice cooker, your eggs just as you liked it, and a serving of mixed veggies. You grab onto his shoulders to bring him into a sweet morning kiss that definitely was minty, unlike the last time.

The both of you ate in silence, the good night's sleep still slowly letting you go from its grasp; his gaze, however, remained on you the entire time. That disappointed air came back to cling on you.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, angel?” Shouto finally spoke up once you were done; now that you had food filling your stomach, you seemed calmer.

Your eyes focused back onto him, the slightest bit of shock highlighting on your face at his keen judgment, but you shrugged, your smile sad. “I thought you were going to propose last night, that’s all.” Those words shouldn’t have caused Shouto’s eyes to slam open, his entire body stiffening over, and even if it was slightly, he knew you could read him better than he could read himself at times. Your jaw dropped a bit, confusion evident in your face. “Why’d you react like that?”

Shouto purses his lips, composure regained. Marriage had definitely been something the two of you had talked about, and to Shouto, he saw you as a life partner. He knew that he never wanted to part with you, ever. But marriage? A proposal on his own end would mean… no, he wouldn’t do that to you or himself.

“I wasn’t planning on proposing last night,” Shouto fully admits, watching the way that your head nods in recognition. “But… I also won’t propose to you, ever.”

Now that's new information to you. 

It was now five years of being in a committed and loving relationship. The five years filled with late-night conversations of your future, yet you had never really talked about weddings and such. Granted, in your mind having a list of what to call your future children seemed like a marriage sort of ending.

“Wait, what?!” you gasp, confusion, and something deeper growing within your stomach. “Why wouldn’t you ever propose?!”

Shouto’s face is grim, his nostrils flaring while he looks to the side, his mind going a million miles a second. 

“I can’t tell you,” he hissed venomously, his shoulders taut and flexed in his anger. “I wish I could tell you, but it's not my place too,” he looked back to you, his eyes honest, sincere, and flickering with possessive jealousy. “I want to propose to you, y/n, I want to marry you, I want to be yours in more than just soul and love… but to do that… I can’t put you or myself through that.”

“What are you going to be a groomzilla? I met you when you were fifteen, trust me I can handle you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Shouto sighs, but there’s a soft smile on his face for a second, an indicator that you had amused him despite him. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Well then, tell me,” you reach across the counter to hold his hands. His hands are warm in yours, spreading heat throughout your body. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles, continuing to do so until his ears were tinged pink. 

Shouto groans, his hands grasping yours and pulling your hand back to his mouth, and he presses a long and silent kiss to the back of your hand. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the heat in his hands fluctuating, indicating the emotional turmoil going on within him.  He places one more kiss upon your hand before pulling his lips from your hand, but he still keeps his hold on your, not willing to pull away.

“Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “The Todoroki’s that my father came from have family traditions; traditions that must be held up to no matter what. Over time and society's modernization, some have survived, and some have not, but one thing has stayed this entire time. For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.”

The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

Whenever the word initiation was used, it was done in the context of cults. 

Shifting in your chair, your head tilted to the side, “Initiated?”

You were a Pro Hero, though, someone who was greatly respected within the country for your strength and ability. You could handle anything they threw your way.

“I can’t tell you what it is,” Shouto snarled, his face running with a million conflicting emotions, but above all, anger and enviousness hung on. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t, his hand gripping yours harsher than it had been while he tried to stay calm. “But only my family can allow you to marry me. I can’t even propose until after the fact, and I don’t want to put us through that.”

“I don’t care what it is, though,” you whisper, your thumb stroking the side of his hand, trying to get him to reason with you. Your free hand reaching out to hold onto his cheek, willing Shouto to look at you. His eyes met yours again, and there was nothing in them that proved that he didn’t love you; he wanted to marry you too. You purse your lips before it melted in a warm smile, “No matter what your family has for me! Even if I have to eat Touya’s burnt to a crisp curry! I’ll do it for us, for you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see you doing what you’ll have to do,” Shouto grunted, his cheeks burning with his words. “I just don’t want to have you be put into this situation, I can’t have you doing this for marriage. We don’t need to be married anyway. We don’t need to be married to love each other forever.”

But just as much as you could read Shouto’s emotions and thoughts like an open book, he was the same for you. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of your reaction that lasted for what felt like a millisecond.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh, your body stilling while you shook your head, “I can’t be with you forever without being married. I know having a band around our fingers and having the government recognize our relationship isn’t what love is about, but I just… I value marriage. I want to be a bride, I want the ceremony, the reception, the day spent in love with you. I know that in the end, marriage doesn’t mean shit, but I want it. I want to tell our kids — if we have kids — about our day, show them videos and pictures of how it went. I want to be able to talk about it. I can’t be in a relationship where we go unmarried… and I love your family! And I’d like to believe that they love me too! I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

Shouto’s face solemn, his stomach twisting. This was something he should have seen coming. It was something he knew was coming, but it still made him stoic hearing it. 

Todoroki Shouto was in love with you, all of you. You indeed were it for him, and he knew that and recognized it, but this was something you wanted. Something he now denied you for his own reasons, and while they were honest intentions, they still didn’t benefit you. But you were his everything.

“Fuyumi and Natsuo’s spouses never show up to family events anymore because of it, you know?” he stated, not to scare you, but just a sad and honest observance. He didn’t want you to stop showing up to family events either. He loved seeing you there with everyone and didn’t want that taken away. He looks at you and sees you nodding. You had been there for weddings after all, but you had no interactions with them, with the entire family being there besides that event. “You’re sure I’m the one that’s meant for you?”

Your head nods without hesitation, an ember burning brightly in your eyes. You would be an idiot if you thought he wasn’t.

“Fine, brat,” Shouto sighs, walked from the other side of the counter to stand next to you, his hands letting go of yours to rest on your hips, his forehead pressing against yours. “I’ll talk with them, I’ll see when this shit initiation will take place.”

He still hadn’t proposed, but the mere thought of everything happening soon sent bubbling joy through you. A giggle escaped your lips seconds before you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, but Shouto’s mouth bit back at yours, drawing you in with passion and fire.

“What could they possibly do?” you mumble against his lips, your lips curling into a smile when he lifts you from the chair, his fingers sneaking under his shirt on your body to rest on your soft hips. “It’s not like I’m going to die.”

.

..

..

..

.

Shouto arrived at his family's house the next day, and without even entering the house, he was already dreading this talk. Sucking in his teeth, he opened the front door, exchanging his shoes for slippers, and continued into the house.

Bright laughter and conversation greeted his ears once he made his way out of the front room, and he looked into the kitchen where his parents and siblings stood, eating and talking.

“Shouto!” Fuyumi chirped, having seen him immediately. “You showed!”

Shouto watched his entire family turn to look at him, smiling when he bent down to hug his sister and mother. Touya winked at him, stealing a bite of food from Natsuo’s unsuspecting plate. Natsuo was waving, his eyes pinched closed while he chewed, and Enji was flipping something in a pan but acknowledged Shouto with a simple nod.

“We weren’t expecting you for dinner!” Rei smiled, brushing Shouto’s hair from his face with a kind smile. “Why didn’t you bring y/n?”

Shouto inwardly winced; he was hoping to have this conversation after they had all eaten. He knew there might be a chance to have them suspend the initiation for you had it been after they’ve eaten after all. But at the mere mention of your name, the words poured from his lips, unable to stay in.

“I want to marry her,” he said simply, and at that, they all froze.

The conversation ceased, and Shouto felt the grey and blue stares of his parents looking to him while observing his siblings. The sizzling of the pan's food mockingly loud, popping and exploding at the lack of attention on it.

“I don’t agree with the initiation, the thought of sharing her… pisses me off, but she needs this,” Shouto further explained. His heart hammers in his ears, the squeeze of his stomach, making him nauseous at the knowledge of what was to come. It was inevitable, unwilling to change despite the many years and horrible results. “So, I’m here to tell you that it’s happening, and your approval of our pre-engagement.”

“Wow, Shoucchan, she must have you by the cock and balls for you to change your mind like that,” Touya was the one to break the silence, his eyes glinting with devious joy. 

“Yeah, are you sure you’re going to go through with this? I mean, you hated just participating with our spouses!” Fuyumi said, concern deep in her eyes.

“Cock and balls,” Natsuo coughed out, and Fuyumi threw a glare at their laughing brothers.

“Well, we’ve been dating for five years, and she says marriage is something she wants,” Shouto shrugged, his hands sweating from his parent's lack of response. Of course, the initiation would only take place should they allow it, and while he wanted to hear his parents admit that they loved you, he didn’t want to listen to it too. “And she’s the one for me, so here I am.”

“Cock and balls!” Touya and Natsuo cackled like a pair of hyenas, and Fuyumi turned on her heel, going over to reprimand them. 

But Shouto was now focused on his parents. Enji held onto the spatula with a steady hand, and how Rei was watching her husband cook. Shouto wasn’t registering anything his older siblings were yelling about, his attention solely on his parents, who finally looked at one another. Silent conversation through their eyes alone before finally, they looked at him.

Grey and blue met greys and blues. 

“And this is what you want, Shouto?” Rei’s voice speaks up. Her voice is soft and gentle, her eyes reaching him with motherly warmth.

“Yes,” Shouto responds in complete earnest. He wanted you above anything else.

“And y/n doesn’t know anything about what we do?” Enji asks, his stare leveled and unshakeable.

“She knows there’s an initiation,” Shouto admits, unable to lie to his parents. “I told her that was the reason why I wouldn’t propose, but she doesn’t know anything that entails.”

A soft hum sounds from Rei’s lips, her head nodding in her thought. Once more, Shouto watches his parents look at one another, silent communication between the two of them before they turn back, finalizing looks on their faces.

“Well, we absolutely adore y/n!” Rei smiles warmly, tears coming to her eyes at the thought of her baby finally getting married. “We had always hoped she was going to be the one you married!”

The strangest feeling of relief, pride, and horror sunk through Shouto while his mom enveloped him into a hug. Many more hugs were passed around, and Shouto’s smile never perked while his siblings and dad eventually embraced him in congratulations. They all wore wedding bands, the metals only shining brighter while they moved around dinner finally ready.

“A week from today, does that work?” Shouto asked, knowing full well that it would be the day you had off and the day following off. He knew that you were going to need it. 

“We’re retired, any day works,” Rei giggled, pushing Enji with her shoulder while she brought the plates of food to the table. 

“I’m free, too!” Fuyumi announced with a thumbs up.

“I can push my schedule around,” Natsuo mutters, but signals that he’s all for it.

“I guess I can, y/n is pretty enough to have me wanting to show up,” Touya sighs while slouching on the floor.

“Try and put your ugly hands on her,” Shouto snaps at his older brother, his eyes narrowing while Touya lazily smirks. 

“Oh, they’ll be in her too!”

“Well, it’s agreed upon, next week we will have our initiation,” Enji announces, his eyes narrowing at his sons, who were growing in hostility and anger. “Meet here at noon, do not tell y/n anything of what’s to happen, or else. Any objections?”

“No.” came Shouto’s response through gritted teeth.

“Good, now Shouto, are you joining us for dinner?”

“...yes,” Shouto grumbled, choosing the seat closest to Rei and sat down with a scowl that seemed more like a pout.

“Well then, here’s to the future happy couple!” Rei cheered, a glass of warm sake lifted in joy.

“Cheers!”

One week later.

You had returned home late after the day Shouto went to visit his family, exhausted and ready to collapse into Shouto’s loving and muscular arms. But when you returned to the house, you were shocked to see that he was sitting on the couch. Fingers fisted into his hair with his irritation and disbelief. 

“It’s taking place this day, next week,” Shouto groaned when you sat beside him, pressing into his side with your lips to his shoulder in silent comfort. “I’m sorry that this is the only way you have to marry me.”

“I guess you’re lucky I love you that much,” you tease, your fingers rubbing his arm. Shouto snorted, his face turning to look at you. His face was grim, obviously not at all happy with whatever the initiation was, but his eyes always warmed when he looked at you. And you were delighted to have his lips press against yours. 

So, there you sat in the car, you were dressed up in a flattering dress because the presentation was always important when meeting the Todoroki’s. You were serious about marrying Shouto, and you hoped that you would get their approval no matter what it was. 

Sighing, you looked to Shouto, who was to your right driving. His hands clenched so tight around the wheel that his knuckles illuminated with white. He was stiff, glaring out in the distance of the road while he breathed harshly. He had said that there was no official dress rule and that it would be acceptable if you showed up in anything. True to his word, Shouto was wearing a plain white t-shirt, that was partially tucked into his dark jeans. You had always enjoyed this look on him, but there was something you had to do about his smoldering aura. 

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to his fingertips and smile when you see him shudder slightly and then relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“You look ready to crash the car, are you okay?” you ask, stroking soft lines to the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“Like I’d crash the car with you in it. If I wanted us to die, I’d be much more dramatic than that,” he says, and you laugh in protest. His smile brightens, and he brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes narrow with curiosity, your fingers pinching his cheek. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, irritated once again.

“It’s going to be a lot today, I know you said you could handle it and whatnot, but I’m still worried,” Shouto expressed, the slant of his eyebrows coming together, his eyes flashing as he looks at you for just a moment. “I don’t want you to hate me for this, and say you don’t want to marry me after it’s over.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. 

You knew that this had been bothering Shouto all week, and he had been rougher in every aspect. Even in bed, he had been rough and hard, leaving you breathless, bruised, and impossibly sore afterward. “You know it’s going to take more than your family initiating me for them to scare me off.”

“Yeah, I know that. I hope you keep to that opinion too,” Shouto sighs, your hand that held his tightening. “I just don’t want the worst to happen. And the worst thing that could happen is that you don’t understand why we do what we do and that you’ll leave me. Or maybe even tap out, which would mean you didn’t pass the initiation.”

“Well, I think I’m a lot stronger than you’re giving me credit!” you exclaim, pushing his arm once more so that he could glance your way once again and see how serious you were about this all. “I’m going to pass with flying colors and hear Endeavor, and Rei say I’m the best daughter-in-law!”

“I’m sure you are already the favorite, but I’m not trying to underestimate you, love. It’s not going to be easy,” Shouto sighs, his eyes glancing over to you as the two of you pull into the driveway of the Todoroki’s main estate. “This can take a turn to the worst really quickly.”

“I’ll be fine. I survived three years as a target to the League of Villains and survived. This’ll be easy as pie,” you reassure him. 

You didn’t know how to take his uneasiness. Was it a hoax? Some initiations were simple things that were way overhyped, and you weren’t sure where Shouto stood on this exactly. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could question him about his insecurities. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how anxious Shouto is.

You brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opens. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“I can’t tell you how long this’ll take, but I hope that at the end of this, you��ll love me as much as you did last week,” Shouto says. The words stir butterflies in your stomach while you roll your eyes playfully. 

As if you could ever stop loving him.

Humming, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your serious boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts more than a few seconds, his lips trying to get everything out of you, but you pull away, not wanting his family to be looking at the two of you somehow. The irritability on Shouto’s face is gone when you pull away, but he isn’t hiding the fact that he wanted the kiss to be longer.

“I love you,” he whispers like some prayer, a hope that you won’t hate him for this, and he closes the car door behind you.

“I love you, too,” you smile like a lovestruck idiot while he begins to lead you to the front door. “This’ll be fine! I’m sure your family will be happy with me.”

Shouto doesn’t respond, his attention focused on unlocking the front door. He slides it open and puts out a hand, holding you with a firm hand to your waist. “Let’s go.”

You smile in grace, thanking him while you stride in. You took off your heels, replacing them with their guest slippers while Shouto slides his feet into his own. The two of you walk with entwined hands, instinctively you moved towards the living room area, but was surprised when Shouto veered towards the opposite side of the hallway. Still, you said nothing, figuring that maybe it was a part of the initiation. 

With no idea of where he was taking you, you followed after Shouto, your anxiety building when you stopped outside of the house's training room. You had been in here a few times, Endeavor had invited you over for some rounds of sparring.

You remember it was the first time meeting the then number one hero as Shouto’s girlfriend, and to say the least, you had left a great impression. But still, you were in a dress, there was no way you’d be able to fight his family dressed like this.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers, his hands grabbing you by the shoulder, his stare intense. “I need you to know that.”

You chuckled, your own growing anxiety starting to taste bitter on your tongue, “I know, baby, I love you too.”

Shouto nods, his lips pressing a rigid and unmoving kiss to your lips before he sighs. He pulls away, nodding once more before turning to the doors. He opens it and ushers you in.

Much similar to when you had first come into this training room, it was void of any work out equipment, the floors lay barren except… was that a bed?

“Welcome, dear,” Rei’s voice speaks, and you turn your head to see that the matriarch of the Todoroki family is sitting in an elegant chair. Deep ruby red fabric that made the white-haired woman pop even more as she sat on it. In her hands sat a wine glass, the silvery-white dress on her setting an ethereal scene before you.

“Hello,” you respond back, your smile warm and sincere despite the way your stomach rolls in anticipation. 

What was going on?

“Shouto,” she called out, her hand gesturing towards the chair that was beside her. 

You blinked multiple times.

The chair was daunting. Made of steel, completely bolted to the floor with an excessive number of holsters attached to it. 

What on earth was going on?

There isn’t enough time to react, your face being held firmly within Shouto’s hands, and an angry, bitter kiss is scorched against your lips until he is forced away. You stay put where you were, confusion limiting your actions, but you could tell just by staring at his back that Shouto did not want to do this.

Shouto took a seat on the chair, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes an inferno.

“Y/l/n y/n,” Rei spoke with what you could only describe as glitter to her tone. The wine glass was pressed against her knee, her grey eyes observing your every move. “Do you want to marry my son, Todoroki Shouto?”

“Yes,” you speak with no hesitation, despite the anxiety bleeding into your tone. 

Her lips spread into a kind smile, her head partially nodding, and with a lift of her wine glass, the final words you would later find out to be incriminating spilled from her tainted bitter lips.

“Will you do anything we demand of you to marry him?”

A beat.

“Anything.”

A dark glint fell against her typically bright eyes, and as if from thin air, Touya and Natsuo appeared at Shouto’s side, the restraints being done immediately. His ankles, calves, and thighs were strapped to the chair, his arms shoved into a device you knew well to be a quirk nullifier, and a muzzle on his face, his head strapped to keep his gaze on the bed in the room.

You moved towards Shouto, a dread filling you because were you supposed to fight off his family while wearing this dress?! 

But before you could even begin to question what was going on, a large and hot hand envelopes your wrist, and you’re pulled backward against a taut chest.

“Welcome to our initiation!” Rei informed you sweetly, the red liquid finally spilling past her lips and into her waiting mouth.

You looked up the second you collided with a firm chest, but you can’t say you were expecting Endeavor to be behind you, one hand encasing your wrist and the other pressing your hips to his thigh. The patriarch of the Todoroki family towered over you in his height and massive build, but he wasn’t staring at you, his eyes not at all concerned by your horrified expression. Instead, he was staring at Shouto, a cold smirk on his face.

“She’s quite dolled up,” he spoke, the tone of his voice sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

Enji looked down at you, almost thrilled that you hadn’t already passed out like some other people who have tried the trails of this initiation. “He didn’t tell you what was going on today, correct?”

“N-No,” you flinch, feeling the way that his heavy hands touch the insides of your thigh lustfully. Did you imagine the way that his fingers seemed to feather over your skin?

“Each blood member of the Todoroki family gets an opportunity to breed you,” Rei piped up, and with your heart pounding in your ears, you looked over at the white-haired mother who was surrounded by all her children. Touya smirking, Fuyumi smiling, Natsuo winking, and Shouto glaring holes into his father's head. “They get to fuck you in however way they see fit to make sure you’re cut out for my baby boy. Don’t tap out for the next six rounds, and the Todoroki last name is all yours.”

There’s no denying that you finally understood why Shouto didn’t want to propose, but with your fears still forming cohesive sentences on your lips, a loud sound of tearing fabric beats the words from your mind.

“Wow, that’s some lingerie she’s wearing, Shouto, are you sure you didn’t tell her?” Touya asks, his lips pulling into a snide smirk while your arms instinctively went to cover the indecent state you were in. It wasn’t as if you had worn lingerie. As a matter of fact, you were only clad in a simple black cotton pantie and bra, but that didn’t keep you from blushing like a prude. A loud rattling of chains is the only noise from Shouto, but you were too busy trying to fight the tears forming in your eyes when Enji’s hands met your breasts.

Twisted feelings squirmed under your skin while Enji manipulated your breasts, tugging at the warm flesh. You felt frozen to the core. What was going on?!

“What are you doing?!” you splutter the moment Enji raises you from the floor, his hands twisting you so that you are now facing him, and adjusting you roughly so that you were only aware of him. 

You and Enji had a good relationship, but there was no denying that the look on his face right now was one you should never give to your son's significant other. His face was dark, the scar on his face looking more ragged, impossibly wild. 

“You seem like a nice girl,” he states, his hands pressing your hips firmly against his crotch, and you could feel the growing length that he had in his pants. “Nice hips, firm legs, you’d look so pretty full of cum, so pretty pregnant with our blood.”

Something curls deep within your skin, sitting restlessly onto your nerves only to be interrupted by Enji’s teeth burying into your neck. You flinch away, your body trembling under the undeniable embers that sprout as he inflicts a bite on you. Enji sits on the edge of the bed, his hands gripping your waist so that you were straddling his thigh. The muscles' indentations and curves on his legs added an unholy feeling to the slick that soaked your panties.

His eyes train on the way you sit on his thigh, your cunt growing wet and wetter when he shifts you back, then forward. Your puffy and sensitive clit continued to rub up against the rivets of his muscle. You whined loudly at the teasing friction, the stupidly soft friction, and if he was anything like Shouto, there would be much, much more. 

“You’re so tiny compared to me,” Enji growls, continuing to grind you against his thick thigh. It was almost a ridiculous sight, you on his massive thigh. His distinctive muscles ridged against your sensitive clit, stimulating you to no end while you cried mercy, and his hand smacked your pert ass.

“What— What are you doing?!” you squeak and flinch when you're slammed against the mattress. The oxygen in your lungs shortens immediately; the burning of your skin explodes when the panties are burnt from your body. 

“Do you not understand what Rei meant when she said we get to breed you?” He asks, his eyes taking in the way that your legs are hopeless in shutting him off. The thickness of his hips and thighs overwhelmed any strength you could ever have. The sounds of a zipper echo in your ears, and you barely have time to peer down when his cock comes out.

Hard as a rock, thicker than your forearm, and already leaking.

“I must admit, the day Shouto brought you home, I was hoping this day would come,” Enji chuckled humorlessly, his left hand fisting his already erect cock, and his right hand slamming your struggling hips down. “Now, let’s see what exactly about your cunt drives Shouto wild.”

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and the choke that gargles from your mouth only seemed to be a sweet symphony to the other members of the family. 

“SHIT!” you cried, painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down your cheeks while Enji shuddered.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he growls, his hips shifting against you, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “No wonder why Shouto wanted you for himself… mhm, this is nice. A tight young pussy always means a fertile womb.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

“Hey!” SLAP. 

Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, turquoise eyes burning devilishly down at you, his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off me this entire time. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips getting to be much easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but mild throbbing pain. “You have to be gentler, you’re so much bigger than mE!!!”

The sheets' fabric under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain, pleasure, and fear were interrupted by an enormous fist around your neck. And his mouth pressed into your cheek.

“Don’t you know how to teach your whore to be quiet, Shouto?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, and you went light-headed, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and almost splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the retired number one hero. “I don’t want to hear you drown out my lovely wife at all, do you understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

Rei?

Soft whispers hit your ears, and in a panic, you realized that Rei was, in fact, speaking. Her attention is on you, eyes bright with lust watching her husband's cock ramming into you with the speed and strength of only accomplished pro heroes. But she was whispering to Shouto, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to escape. 

But as if you could read Shouto’s mind, his eyes reached yours, and you didn’t see regret at all in his eyes. No, nothing in him stated that he didn’t regret putting you here, because there was a simmer in his eyes. Something that told you that he shouldn’t be enjoying this… but he was. 

That sent endless shivers down your spine, emitting choking coughs from your mouth.

“There we go,” Enji sighs, his broad chest pressing your thighs into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he savages, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands so that they press against your knees, pushing them into the mattress, increasing the ability of which he drills down into you. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, your fingers scraping against his scarred back, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

There was no denying that you and Shouto had been rough in bed. Hell, at least thrice a week, he had your skin bruised and bleeding, his back forever scarred with your fingernails, but this was on a whole new level. 

The force in which Endeavor slammed his hips to meet yours, the growling pants in your ear that sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of his quirk to your core when your head smashed against the bed frame. “That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips, your eyes crossing. Pleasured sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re not done.”

He pistoled into your gripping core with the intent of getting himself off, uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining, and crying. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Enji snap at you.

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me at all times.”

Before you could even pathetically open your eyes, his cock has removed from your cunt, your body spasming from his lack of fill. Your mouth sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite the undeniable tremor and ache of your core. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants. Your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at Shouto, who meets your gaze with a burning fire.

“Watch and learn, Shouto, this is how you handle someone who doesn’t know how to listen.”

You don’t have time to digest his words, Enji grabbing you by the roots of your hair and pulling you to your knees. You only manage to get a sharp cry out, pain flaring in your scalp when you're thrown onto your knees before Enji. 

Your body feels tired already, sore, and beaten, but Enji looks down at you with blazing turquoise eyes, and his calloused fingers rub at his length. You blink once, thrice, and his hot and wet with your slick cock slaps your face. “Open up, whore.”

There isn’t any time to question because the crown of his cock pushed past your lips and the taste of Enji and your essence filled you. 

But ever so demanding, Enji wastes no time starting his punishment.

You try to keep up with the momentum of his viciously thrusting hips, your jaw already aching with the vast space you need to keep his cock in your mouth, and you choke against him the moment his swollen head hits the back of your throat. Enji groans, his hands cemented onto the back of your neck, his moans tight and low, and his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re good at this,” Enji observes, his fingers moving to slap your sensitive nipple, making you cry around his cock. “Too fucking good.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unneeded glee, but there’s something about the way that having all their eyes piercing your every move, studying the way your cheeks subconsciously hollow around his cock that thrills you. You wanted them all to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock back instead of sucking him off, your cunt crying in need of being filled — needing more than the undesirable rubbing of your thighs together.

 Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Enji’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening, hot breaths of air expelling from your mouth. You could feel Shouto’s angry eyes burning you. So you moaned louder, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Enji’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

 “Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Enji grunts, his hips moving with more unrestrained power into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in. One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, tears springing uncontrollably into your stinging eyes, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Enji’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up, his once sneer evolving to one of sinister appreciation and glee. His dance between aggression and savagery is an art. You don’t have time to trail his bulging veins with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat, letting him all in.

 “Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do this. I guess we’re — shit — full of surprises.”

The thought of being good enough makes you moan, and you gag softly, trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat. Your fingers holding onto his clenched muscles to the best of your ability.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, your hands leaving his thighs to press onto your needing cunt. 

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head, and the hiss that breathes past his lips. Digging your fingers into your clit, you cry around him, and finally, he notices what you’re doing.

Enji grunts, his hands slapping your hands away from your weeping walls. You choke against his cock, the building pleasure in your core gone, leaving you behind sputtering and gagging against his slamming cock, “Did you think I stopped fucking your cunt so you could do it in my stead, whore? That’s my cunt to fuck right now, don’t you dare. Fucking. Touch. It.” Every enunciation has your nose burying into his skin, the tears flowing from your eyes intermixing with the drool that is pouring from your mouth as he shoves you back down onto the bed. 

You gasp loudly, your chest heaving with the burning pain as you stare at his purpling, thick cock that looks seconds from exploding. You shiver in delight.

Shouto stares at you, his once fiery eyes silent ice. Cold, dangerous, deadly.

“Such a disobedient daughter-in-law. First, you don’t look at me. Next, you deliberately touch yourself when you’re supposed to be pleasing me?! How am I supposed to believe that you’ll be suitable for my precious Shouto when you clearly can’t follow instructions,” Endeavor chides, his hand twisting something you can’t make out. Your eyes were heavy, pain, and pleasure swelling through every active cell in your body. “Let’s hope you don’t choke on your saliva, now do we?” There was nothing you could say in response as his fingers buried in your mouth, and you gag at the pressure on your tongue.

And just like before, pain exploded in your body. The fingers in your mouth pressing unfairly into your mouth further inducing the choking madness that threatened to have you puking against the sheets as he shoved inch by inch of his completely swollen cock into your tight cunt. You fail to keep up, broken, horrible sobs muffled from your mouth while he finally bottomed out in you.

You twisted in pain, trying to move away from him, but were held in place. 

“Stay still, and take it,” Enji growls, not at all amused with the panic fluttering through you. The way that Shouto held your tearful gaze made your spinning head nearly fall off your shoulders. So cold, so unattached to what was happening. Your sobs soon fade to gargled chokes, your ass clenching against his deliberately moving cock, but Enji seems to enjoy that you were adjusting so fast to what was going on. Slowly, your sobs become whimpers, whimpers becoming heaving breathing until you adapt to the jarring pain that was Enji’s fat cock in your pussy again.

“Make sure you suck my fingers, whore,” he whispers, and with that, he seems to unleash everything he had, no longer caring about how you were feeling.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, only slightly hindered by your clenching velvet slicked walls, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your stomach. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit, then nipples, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your lips left drooling puddles on the bed, you could barely suction around his thick fingers. 

Your gaze was still locked on Shouto, his gaze delighting you. But as if Enji could read your thoughts, his thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burns into your mind and your body.

You whimper against the bed, your teeth sinking into his fingers, your back arched to sinfully, your eyes crossing in your delirium. Drool coats your chin, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. Enji’s sweating, unshaven chin scrapes against your shoulder, his voice diminishing into growls and snarls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you.

 Your body moves with his every movement, your slick dripping from your cunt, and he lets go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked clit with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes focused, your vision blurring when his finger dives into your lonesome asshole.

 More and more fingers join his initial one working double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your ribbed walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging and coaxing them deliciously against your clenching heat. Moving his fingers against his cock; the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name against the gag.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“I want you to come now,” he snaps, you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Come, you filthy bitch, cum against your father-in-laws cock.”

You garble against the gag, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his cock, clenching him in a vice grip.

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand pressing your head so that you could stare at Shouto while he fucked your pussy, his breath hot and heavy in your ear while he taunts you. “Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Nine months from now and not being able to tell if the bitch in your womb will be from the rest of my sons or me. You, my son’s future wife, giving birth to his half brother half son, that would be something, huh?” you sob in the thought, not because it’s horrible, but because it makes your cunt throb ludicrously in thought. “I’m going to fill you up so good, whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that.

With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrusts that send his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it's bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

“Look at that,” he muses, and you can feel warm, thick liquid dripping from your cunt and down onto your ass. “A pretty dessert.”

You lay on the mattress, breathing ragged, uncomposed, desperate. “Come on, you’re going to have to do better to last another five rounds,” Enji growls, his hand guiding his cock down to you, but he was on his feet. Towering over you, you turned to look at him, eyes heavy with everything you’ve been through already, and then something warm hit you. Warm, wet, retched smelling. Urine fell over your legs, splashing among your stomach and ankles, soaking you with secretion you never thought would touch you in such a way. 

“Isn’t this what they do to mark a bitch?” he asks, his voice filled with humor as if he had told the world’s funniest joke. But the spirit dies quickly, replaced with a sinister seriousness that has you gasping in both horrors and need. “Don’t forget who you belong to now, y/n, you’re the Todorokis’.”

��“Leave it to this fucking idiot to piss all over you when no one else has had their fun,”  a grumbled response comes to your left the moment Enji leaves your side. 

Your neck aches, your throat raw when your eyes locked gazes on Touya, who looked at your naked, piss-drenched body with a look of disdain. “I can’t fuck her like this, how fucking gross are you, Endeavor? Just because you go first, so you don’t have limp dick during the best part doesn’t mean you get to fucking do this.”

Touya’s hands grabbed you by your wrists, yanking you up onto your feet so that you stood off the bed. His hand gripped the ruined sheets, burning them instantly. There was nothing left behind on the bed, not even billowing ashes as you stared with your jaw-dropping in thought. Then something cold, wet, and smelling heavily of chemicals pressed against your skin. Touya rubbed cleaning towels against your body, rubbing you dry with a look of disgust on his face.

“I’m not against pissing on whores, trust me, but like hell I’m fucking someone covered in Endeavor’s piss,” Touya growled, shoving you onto the bare mattress to clean off your legs. Your skin felt rubbed raw by the time he was done with you, but you lay there, staring up into his turquoise eyes while his head tilted in thoughts. He took in your body with cold, calculating eyes, an aura of mystery falling on him. “You really are hot. I almost can’t blame Shouto for not wanting to give you to us in this way. I would never share a slut like you, that’s for sure.”

Your chest hitched. The way that he stalked you up onto the bed, crawling after you with an almost crazed, almost insane glint in his eyes that screamed at you, was dangerous. Every cell in your body telling you that this wasn’t safe, that you needed to get away, but you wanted that ring on your finger. You wanted Shouto.

“Where do we begin?” Touya asked, his voice void of the craze you saw in his eyes, sinisterly sweet, utterly dangerous.

There was no helping the way your instincts told you to run, nor that you listened to your instincts without even noticing most of the time. With every move he made towards you, there was an equal retreat from you. But with as little as three moves away from him, Touya grew tired of your game of cat and mouse. And his lips curled into a snarl. 

“I guess the old man didn’t do shit about your independent flare, did he?” Touya spat, his eyes narrowing, his hand grasping your ankle before you could even think of escaping further. “Let me tell you something slut. I don’t like playing around. You give me what I want, when I want, when I say so, or else you’ll get fucked over. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t say yes or no; you only kicked the air when he dragged you towards him suddenly, your knees burning into the bare mattress, your lips gasping loudly. You were dropped onto his lap; Touya was now sitting at the edge of the bed, his knees burying into your stomach, and you wheezed with the pressure. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, your head trying to look at the eldest Todoroki son, your body shifting in your raising fear. You knew what was going on, you weren’t that much of an idiot, but the panicked words still poured past your lips before you could try to stop them. His hand pressed against your bare, sore ass. His hand moving up and down your cheeks, circling and kneading the soft flesh as if in contemplation. But for you, it was nothing short of anxiety-ridden torture.

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin, and you thought maybe he wasn’t going to spank you after all. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

His hand rose and fell with extreme force. His right hand slamming down against your ass cheek, the sharp slap noise made your body clench in his wake, you shriek while your skin throbbed in his path. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your other ass cheek.

You yelped loudly when Touya yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your throbbing, sensitive skin. His light, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“If I want to be cruel, you better understand that you have no say if I am or not!” he laughs in your ear, his hand landing harshly against your throbbing, pinching skin. “Was the rules of the initiation to make sweet love to Shouto’s wannabe wife? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with great powerful slaps, ignoring your growing shriek and screams— “it was fuck you however we wished. I don’t give a fuck about what you want, about the way Shouto is seconds from ripping from his chains. I will fuck you until you’re blistered and bruised. Do. You. Understand?”

You can’t find the will to answer, your body convulsing and shaking with pained pleasure, your tongue unable to form any sort of words from the stinging, burning pain, the only noise you can emit are screams. The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling off his lap. Your arms pressing desperately onto the edge of the mattress and onto the floor, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Touya abused your ass until you could feel the outline of his hand rising from your skin.

“Answer me, slut.”

There was no stopping Touya’s heavy hand against your pert ass, his nails digging into your stinging flesh, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man beneath you. Your sobs of pain had slowly turned into those of pleasure, and you could feel Touya’s fingernails most definitely cut into your sore cheeks, the cut flesh stinging even more than the others. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, Touya!” you pant, your body trembling in your blossoming excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he barks with nearly crazed laughter while he rubs circles against your heated skin. His eyes are locked with his youngest brother, uncaring about your reactions, but gleefully seeking the way that it was on Shouto who could match the raging glare Touya had perfected. “Look at her, Shouto! She’s a desperate fucking slut! Do you fuck her like this at home?! She’s trembling with excitement, and she was trying to get away from me this entire time. Should I fuck her until she no longer wishes for your cock? Maybe she’ll leave you for me! Ha! The thought of that! I wouldn’t mind a slut looking like this! With no clothes, no way back from this? Oh, she’s perfect!” His laughter is cut off at the way the chains and the metal around Shouto’s wrist for a moment are unable to contain his quirk, the metal building with frost and ice, coloring red on the other end. Touya grins, his eyes dropping from his raging baby brother to return his attention to you. “Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One.”

Your words were barely above a hoarse whisper, just enough for the entire family to hear you count as you trembled like a leaf on his lap. His taunting words to Shouto had a significant effect on you, on top of Shouto managing to for a brief second overpower the quirk canceling restraints had you seeing the heavens and the hells while you sighed contently. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head down. You yelped in pain when your head smashed into his thigh and once again when his fingers went and pinched your swollen pussy lips.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again for the thank you too. I’m not doing charity work. Try again.”

Slap.

“One! Thank you!”

Your mind reeled as Touya continued his conquest against your ass. 

“Two, tHANK YOU!” you screamed, feeling his burning hand landing against your ass.

Touya’s laughter rang merrily in your ears as he continued to abuse, to slam his palms against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on the numbers pouring past your lips. Nothing more than some thickly coated babble that he took in acceptance anyways. The added sensation of his alternating heated and standard hand that almost felt like ice against your burning, blistering ass increased the desire in you to find you as you were now. 

Ass bright red and in the air, your blood long dried against your throbbing skin, thighs trembling where they were pressed onto Touya’s lap, and saliva and tears seeping onto your weak, shaking arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he cooes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the room with the need of more. He continues petting your folds, and while his other hands move to gently stroke your abused ass, your hips begin to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut. Do you want me to fuck you with just my fingers? That would be a little boorish.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of three of his scarred fingers into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as he pulls away just as quickly. The empty teasing of his action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Touya chuckles, but there’s that twisted humor to his laughter that sinks like a stone in your stomach. “Wonderful, truly perfect.”

His weight shifts, and the next thing you know, your back on the mattress. Your ass presses against the rough material, and you sob in pain at the feeling of the blisters and burning, bruised flesh of your ass pressing into the mattress. You fall onto your knees, trying to alleviate the coursing pain that throbs through your body from his past ministrations. But Touya is busy doing something else, his hands handling something black, shiny, and tight.

“W-What is that?” you grimace through your pain, your eyes watering slightly while you stare up at Touya, who stretches the black material in his hands. The material is foreign to you; you’re unsure of what it is, only that you’re increasingly positive that it’s latex and that there are two small holes in the center of them.

“I’m an ass guy,” Touya states simply, his eyes concentrated on the latex in his hands before his eyes dropped to your chest. “But I can appreciate a good pair of boobs when I see them. You, my darling fucking slut, need… something done to yours.”

Your eyes blink rapidly while you take in his Chesire grinning form, his hands stretching out the material once again as he stalks towards you, his steps on the mattress commanding and near fearful to you. His hands brought to your chest and slammed you're onto your back. You howled in the stabbing pain on your ass and back, the raging anger from Shouto a bare wisp when Touya straddles you where you lie. His knee keeps your hips from rising off the bed, the painful stabs spreading through your body as you desperately cry in need of relief.

“Oh, I love when a slut cries,” Touya brims with sadistic joy, his tongue reaching towards your cheeks and licking the salty, hot tears that pour from your eyes. “The last bitch who came our way passed out after the old man fucked her, I like you a lot. I wonder if you’ll pass out with me! Don’t worry, though; if you do, I’ll make sure to wake you back up! I won’t let you miss out on anything!”

Through your sobs, your eyes remain clenched, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the stabbing heartbeat in your ass. But when you finally cracked open an eye, tears still heavy in your eyes, dripping with no restraint, did you finally see what that latex was for.

Your breasts were roughly put through the holes that looked no bigger than a child's fist. Touya’s hands roughly guide your breasts through so that they come out on the other side. Immediately you could feel the discomfort in this; the blood circulating in your breasts slowed to the point of no blood passing, your breasts throbbing with every beat of your heart that caused blood to flow there. 

Through this latex trap, your breasts are shaped into something akin to teardrops, the skin already discoloring from the lack of proper flow. You moaned in pain, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Touya slapped your tit.

“Oh yeah, there we go, so much prettier!” he delighted, his finger flicked your engorged nipple, your bottom lip trembling with undeniable pain. “Does that feel good, y/n? It looks good, I hope you’re fine?”

You can’t find the words to respond, your head swimming with drowning waves of both pain and pleasure. Your eyes can only heavily blink, but your gaze was miles away, unable to focus or see anything as you attempted to adjust to the thundering pain. “Imma… fuck…” was the only thing you could manage.

Touya’s head cocked to the side, his hands still paddling your breasts around with no care to the way you were pathetically whimpering with every small stroke of his fingers.

“You want to fuck already, slut?” he asked, a mocking frown on his face while he shook his head. “You haven’t even seen my cock yet!”

While he stood up, his foot still pressed your aching ass onto the mattress, and you wheezed heavily. Proudly, Touya discarded the boxers he wore and freed his cock in all its glory. You stared at his cock, your pain is forgotten suddenly at the sight of the piercing full cock he had. The swollen dripping red head of his cock bounced up to hit his stomach, and you could only look at the piercings that littered his genitals. There were so, so many of them. Many of which you knew by name already, but so much more you couldn’t even begin to name.

“What?” he mocks, his lips splitting into a curling smile. “Never seen a real man’s cock before?”

He gave you no time to even consider what to do, for he reached down, his fingers clenching your hair at the roots, and threw you back up onto your ass. Your skin sang in pain, feeling as if it was melting as it pressed against the rough mattress. His hands tugged up and down against his pierced cock. The white hair of his pubes almost glistening in promise to be soaked in both your essence with time.

“I expect to be fucked well,” Touya says, his fist guiding his cock toward your grimacing mouth, and his other hand bringing you closer and closer. “Open those slutty legs.” 

Your legs don’t open on time, and the leaking pre-cum smears all over your legs. This was unacceptable for Touya, and his eyes flash dangerously, his hand striking against your cheek, bruising your face as you cried out. But he takes this as an initiative to thrust your legs open and sinks down as far as he can go while not straining you yet. 

This was a whole new level of sensation. Touya’s cock, while not as big as Shouto’s or Enji’s cock, had the ice-cold piercing lining all over his cock, tickling and dragging against your puffy, swollen walls. Your fingers pressed up against his back, and you moaned at the new sensations. You push further against him, adding to the now frantic rhythm, fucking against his cock with enough vigor to make Touya cackle out your name.

“Look at you go! You are a good cock slut! I had my doubts, but fuck — yes, just like that!” his voice a mantra for your actions, his hands pressing flat on your neck and shamelessly, recklessly fucking you faster.

You relax against his rocking hips, you’re focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your cunt, the piercings adding to the stimulation. 

Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. But one hand moves from your neck and slams down against your breasts. Just like that, your bodily discomforts thrust back into you at full speed, your body contorting and hissing at the way your breasts throbbed in pain. However, with your attention broken, Touya slammed his cock all the way into your cunt, the steel point of a piercing stabbing your womb

It caught you off guard, your throat legs kicking his hips, suffocating gags and chokes emitting from your mouth while you forgot how to breathe through the pain and his hand around your throat. Your hands pounded on his back, your face feeling like it was purpling, your body thumping with your pounding blood, and lack of air.

“Hold it there, slut, hold it!” Touya hisses, his eyes gleeful and sadistic. Your eyes blinked heavily with tears when you looked up to see Touya’s eyes closed, his eyes rolled to the back of his head in a pleasurable activity. “I know which piercing you’re feeling… good…” he sighs, finally pulling you from his length. You spluttered loudly, hacking for air when he removed his hand from your throat. 

With a twist to your throbbing nipples and a yank of your hair, his cock carded between your sopping lips. Moans and pants spilling out with every wild thrust of his against your clit. 

The feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your side, flipping you over, stung with a burning sensation. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach. You wanted his cock buried deep within you; you wanted more than anything to feel those piercing rutting against your sopping walls without restraint. You wanted more.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Touya snaps at you, breaking you from your trance. Your eyes widen when you shift your head to look at Touya, whose cock is fully erect, and you realize in growing heat that he was going to fuck you from behind. Something was maddening sweet about these Todoroki men fucking you from behind, to feel their tight chest pressed against your back.

Your fingers dug into the mattress as you groaned loudly, your ass rising off the bed, but not enough for your knees to position themselves correctly. His body heat radiated onto you from behind, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Touya gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind. He drew nearer, spacing your rubbing thighs apart, so your heated cunt met the unmerciful cold air of the room.

You spluttered against the mattress, your voice a soft and needing whine as you stared behind you in desperation.

“You fuck me with your cock,” you reply back, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor. You’re not sure what effect it took on Touya, only that his lips pulled back into a shark-like grin, his turquoise eyes drowning you in a deep color while he barked in laughter.

“Get on your knees,” Touya smoothly stated, his voice creamy smooth, adding to the gentle way that his fingernail was caressing and stroking your soaked inner thighs.

“Nope.”

“Oh?” Touya breathed, his tongue dragging across his lip in a way that made you shudder at your response. This was a mistake you made, you knew that, but the blistering fire in your core made you reconsider.

There was no time to react when Touya’s hands were suddenly filled with ties, and he grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you behind you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist being bound because you absolutely hated not being able to move your arms, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your chest and knees like a good slut,” Touya directs, running a hand through his sweaty locks while spreading out his stance, still on his knees. The ties were almost uncomfortable with how tight they were, and you remained stagnant, staring at the white-haired sadist who was looking increasingly more frustrated with you. He was someone who commanded and demanded respect and attention, and you had your own fun chipping away at it all. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your hair in his hand, yanking you back so that your chest lifted off the bed, leaving only your discolored nipples grazing the mattress. “Are you fucking deaf?”

You gasp loudly when Touya’s hand slams your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your shoulder blades.

“I thought sluts had better form than this,” Touya sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air still bright and blistered in the air. “There, you look much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

Rei’s voice drowned back into the background, and you looked at the giggling wine drinking monarch of the family, but regret-filled your loins, the coil in your stomach lessening in your fear. Touya was above you, silent as a monk, giving no emotions or feelings for you to read, that is until he began. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his pierced cock carding against your sopping folds, the piercing on the top of his cock dragging deliriously against your puffy clit. With a shivering moan from your lips, he pulled back before slamming profoundly and entirely into you.

A raw scream ripped through your mouth, your body nearly collapsing under his touch. His piercings were staggeringly cold in your heated cunt, sizzling, and burning against your puffy walls. There was no denying the fact that they added a whole new world of friction, deliciously and viciously dragging against the curves of your spongy walls, your bucking, spasming body doing nothing to make the pleasure any less. It only gave you more, and with the stinging in your ass. the loss of feeling in your breasts, and the now twitching overstimulated feeling in your cunt. Your eyes slammed to the back of your head.

The pure unadulterated lust and strength in every drop of his cock in your cunt were something you thought you should handle — but those piercings had drool pouring past your lips. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill shrieks of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Touya.

Sure enough, Touya was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery that your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — ohmygod ohmygod — do that! Yes, yes, yes!”

“I want you to look at Shoucchan!” Touya bristled, his smile burning against your back. “Look at him, and tell him who’s making you feel this way?! Who’s making your cumdump pussy throb and clench with need and desire?”

“Y-You!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “You are!”

“Look at him fucking bitch!” Touya snarls, his hand slapping your ass with a powerful stinging force, and his fingers moved to pinch your inflated breasts. You howled in a pleasure-filled pain, your tearing eyes looking at Shouto in your hysteria, a drool covered smile pressed to your face as you meet his raging eyes, his body trembling with what you knew was rage and jealousy. 

“T-Touya’s making me feel so good, Shoucchan,” the nickname drips like a taunt from your mouth as Touya rocks into you with unforgiving rage and power. The squelching of your meeting sex almost as loud as your babbling voice. “He’s fucking my cumdump pussy, making it throb a-and clench!”

Touya puffs out with your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his bright eyes standing his ground as his younger brothers stared at him, feeling like it could kill someone right now. His concentration was like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, weeping with the pleasure stunted stimulation of the plenty of piercing viciously rubbing against your inner walls, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you; it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair, snapping you back.

“Fucking gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing,” jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power. “You’re gonna be so full with my cum, you’re going to be my breeding slut, carrying my fucking child after all this.”

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Touya curses loudly, his hips slamming completely against your hips and staying there as sticky substances eject from his throbbing head. Touya lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came on you. The both of you collapse on the bed, ragging shallow breaths tumbling from both your chests as you attempt to steady yourselves.

“Just so you know who you fucking belong to here,” Touya taunts, but his words aren’t for you, but instead Shouto. You feel his finger press against the skin right above your ass, and you blink once, twice, and suddenly scorching white, impossibly unbearable heat burns into your skin. 

His finger burned brightly with his quirk, blue flames dancing across your skin as you howled and screamed in pain. He had branded you with his name, ‘Touya’ scrawled messily against your skin, white, bloodied, and blistered with the disappearance of his finger.

“Touya!” Rei snapped, her eyes narrowing on her eldest son as Shouto managed to break through the restraints, the chains clattering loudly on the floor as Enji and Natsuo both did everything they could to restrain him where he sat. “You weren’t allowed to brand someone who isn’t yours, you know that!”

“Oh relax,” Touya rolled his eyes, his cock removing from your quivering cunt with a low sigh. “It wasn’t anything permanent. It should only last a week if you put ointment on it. If we still got that shit for when Shouto got burned, it should heal up in seconds.”

You remained on the bed, painful, heavy tears pouring down your face as you sobbed.

The latex was burnt off your body, and your breasts throbbed in grateful pleasure at your sudden release. But you could feel his name engraved into your skin, and it hurt. You sniffled against the mattress, your body sweaty and gross as his cum seeped out from your cunt. A soft hand pressed to your brand with some ointment that made you cry, even more, tensing against a gentle touch.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Fuyumi’s voice was gentle against your pounding ears. “I’ll fix you up, and then you’ll be good to go!”

You don’t remember passing out from the pain, but you know that some time has passed when you open your eyes. You can still feel the low throbbing pains of your back where Touya had etched his skin, but it was no longer causing you awful pain. A soft groan passed your lips while you felt a gentle stroke of fingers brush over where the branding had once been.

“Oh! You’re conscious again!” Fuyumi cheered delightfully, her lips pressing to your sweaty temple with a gracious smile. “I’m happy to tell you that we managed to salvage your skin! The blisters and burns are all gone!”

A soft whimper presses against your teeth as you nod in thanks, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. “Thank you,” you rasp, your eyes fluttering in the way coolness washes over your still blazing skin. Fuyumi’s quirk doing wonders to your beaten skin. 

“I’m glad you’re doing okay!” Fuyumi continued to chirp, and your fingers trembled, your head nodding at the way her tone was so, so sweet and light. Was she going to be the most comfortable fuck so far? You certainly hoped so. “Please know that you have to call me nee-chan, or else your nee-chan will get upset. Do you understand?”

A hitched huff passes your lips, and you nod, you understand… wait! Your head snapped up, your body aching at the way you twisted around to stare at Fuyumi, who was looking at you still with a sugar-sweet smile on her face and the biggest fucking dildo sitting on her strap. 

Nee-chan?

“Let’s begin!”

Let it not be said that you couldn’t follow instructions. This entire past twenty minutes or so, you had been as obedient as one could be when you found out your boyfriend’s family was a cult — and even more so obedient then you ever expected yourself to be. The word nee-chan dripped from your lips in an echoed distant prayer when Fuyumi rolled you over so that your back was being pressed into the mattress. 

You squealed at the sensation of your sore backside pressing into the rough material of the mattress, your eyes clenching while you flinched at the spectacle. 

“I’ve always been outnumbered by my brothers and my father. I’ve seen their cocks in action, and the first time I got to join in on someone, my dildo was pathetic. I couldn’t get anyone to scream the way they did through my strap energy. I know I eat pussy better than they do. Still, I wanted to make sure that I was better than them in everything,” Fuyumi’s words are informational, trying to explain just why the dildo she was using was what you would consider being a dragon dildo. 

She moves the dildo against your clit, your body twisting and contorting as the artificial veins drag sinfully against your aching nerves. her hands pressing against your abdomen as she did so, gently thrusting, studying the way that you keened and gasped for more. “We got to do this so many times! Did ya know that my poor brother Natsuo brought three girls to this initiation? None of them passed! It’s not so fun fucking people who can’t keep up… that’s why I’m so happy Shouto found you, y/n! You’re keeping up so well!”

A particular thrust of her hips lands a staggering white-hot jolt up your spine, your head tossing backward as you moan, your hips rising instinctively to grind against the dildo she refuses to put in. You’d never been with any girl before, and this was all so new, to begin with. When your once dry mouth seemed to pool with your saliva, your abdomen was built with electrifying pressure. You could only think of getting more from this. You wanted Fuyumi to fuck you to oblivion. 

But she had plans, ideas to do before she even considered planting her dragon cock into your sopping pussy. 

“Tell me if you like this or not, little sister,” Fuyumi teased, her eyes moving to focus on your already hazed ones, her hands pressing down on your diaphragm, and her lips erotically pressed to the side of your breasts. She spends a few seconds lavishing your breasts with attention, her hot, wet tongue flicking and twirling your skin around, trying to make you squirm even more under her conquesting tongue.

“I-It feels good,” you mewl, your breasts singing in grace and pleasure of how her tongue flicks and curls over your pebbled nipples. 

But you omitted nee-chan. 

Her fingernails pinched and twisted the sensitive skin near your lymph nodes, a pained gasp emitting from your lips while you writhed under her. Your pants are heavy and loud while Fuyumi tuts against your breast, “Try again,” she commands, her mouth tearing into your skin.

“It feels good, nee-chan,” you gasp, your eyes noticing the way that the anger and ferocity seem to melt away from her eyes. Replacing it with nothing but warmth and kindness in her place.

It sent an odd shiver down your spine; this was the persona of someone you knew was dangerous. Stay on her good side, and you would be rewarded. Get on her bad side, and well, you had a gut instinct that she would be worse than even Touya. Fuyumi’s teeth leave your skin, moving on to continue to lavish your body in her sweet lips and gentle kisses. She left behind a trail of bites and bruises, your skin purpling and brightening wherever she left. 

Her skin was unparalleled so far, each strike and curl of her tongue, making you pant in such fervor you nearly forget to add nee-chan on multiple occasions. But you were a quick learner, a good learner, especially if she was to be treating you like this. With her lips dancing and grazing against your skin, you felt amazing. On top of the way that the dildo still continues to drag through your folds, teasing, stimulating your abused cunt. 

You were turned on, almost painfully so. Your clit throbbed, and your nipples ached with an unrestricted need while Fuyumi pushed up against your breasts, her hips circling and snapping into you. 

Fuyumi’s hands trail down, squeezing your soft thighs in her grasp, pulling your legs up closer to her, wrapping your sturdy legs around her form. The adjustment sends jarring shivers down your spine. Your lips fall open, stuttered gasps drenching the room as the vein on the dildo grows bigger and more complicated with this new reach, this new angle.

Her hands felt delicate against your skin, almost like porcelain but with an undertone of steel to her grip. And you gasp as in your blinded state, her lips latching onto your neck. Her teeth nibbling on your vein makes you moan, your back arching as she presses on, unafraid of what she’s doing.

“Tell me…” She breathes against your skin. Your fingers clutching her biceps between your hands as you lie against your seat. “What does my dirty little sister want?”

Your eyes open. Degradation was something you’ve never tried before. But those words send heat towards your cunt. You moan as her fingers trail under your tank top, her nails dragging against your sensitive skin. Her hands are on your waist, and she pulls your legs until your ass is pressing against the bottom curve of the dildo. Your hips come to roll against hers, a movement that causes her to hiss.

Her smile makes your walls flutter in anticipation as your mouth opens to answer, your tongue slippery in your mouth, “I… I want to be fucked. I want my nee-chan to stick her dildo in me, and claim me. I want my nee-chan’s to taste my cunt. And I want her to fuck me without holding back, I don’t want my nee-chan to hold back at all.” 

Your flushed face can barely stay facing Fuyumi, but you shiver at her head dropping backward, a preemptive moan escaping her mouth at the thought of doing all those things. You weren’t ashamed to admit it, and you glowed at her inability to look at you right now. “I want to be used as your sex toy. Using me after dominating me in whatever way and desire my nee-chan wants – shit!”

There’s a hard thrust against your aching core, and Fuyumi has your hands above your head. Cold metal circling your wrists as you watch her handcuff you to the bed frame. “Fuyumi?!” you gasp, flinching when her hand comes down to strike your cheek in your slip up. You splutter against your stinging skin, your eyes watering while you continue to stare at Fuyumi, who looks down at you with a pout, her eyes so, so sad at your slip up.

“Call me, nee-chan, let me be your big sister!” she begs, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips and connecting with your collarbone. Goosebumps shoot through your body as your hands pull against the restraint. The cold metal hissing against your burning skin, cutting into your aching joints, her hands rutting the dragon cock against your pulsing clit.

You pant as Fuyumi pulls away, her fingers discarding her thin shirt while she grinned. 

“Don’t you just look lovely like this? Saying things about how you want to be fucked without restraint, but look at you! You barely survived, Touya! What makes you so confident that you’ll last with me?” her finger fork between your clit, your body twisting and shuddering under her milking fingers, her keen eyes studying every little way you bucked and moaned against her. “Such a fucking dirty little sister, aren’t you? How long can I make you wait for me to do anything but tease your puffy pretty clit, hm? Did you want me to fuck your dirty fucking pussy already? Do you want my cock to ram into you already? Claim you as mine?”

An aroused and insulted moan escapes your lips, and Fuyumi presses a heavy hand to your throat, immediately cutting off the airway, making you splutter and gasp under her weight. “I want an answer, y/n-chan.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head just momentarily, your breath hitching when you return her kind yet fearsome lust-filled eyes. Fuyumi was emitting some type of confidence that confused you to no end, yet it was very quickly overwhelming you. You wondered if she really was the reason why all those girls before you had failed?

“I’ve n-never done this!” you stammer in embarrassment while her fingers push apart your thighs. She inches backward slowly, her grey eyes taking you into completion, your hips rising and falling in your desperate need and crave of attention for your throbbing heated core.

Fuyumi chuckles, she slides her hands to your knees, pressing heavily onto them while she lowers her head. Her hot breaths hit your soaked core in gentle coaxing waves, causing you to whine, your hands tugging at the restraints in boggling need. Chills of pleasure spread among your skin while you whimper out her name, your hips stupidly rising to find a home, and she does nothing to ease your struggles. “I’m glad because you’re going to be my little sister, y/n! We’re going to be the best sisters, much more than the ones I got from Touya and Natsuo! But you promise you’ll only be mine? Promise that I’m going to be your only big sister?” Fuyumi begs of you, her fingers tracing your clothed slit. Your head nods rapidly in agreement, your hot puffing breathes heavy.

Fuyumi squealed in excitement, that same childlike glee washing over her. With the dragon cock so longer on your pussy, you looked down in a moment of sadness. Still, you were met with her two fingers thrusting up into your weeping cunt, angled perfectly for the first time doing it — you swear you can taste colors when she brushes against your g-spot without even trying. 

Your back arches off the bed. your body almost twisting in your attempt to get her out of your spasming core, you scream her name. “God, you’re such a tight little sister! I thought that after Touya and my dad, you’d be much looser, but that’s okay! You really wanted this to be the end result, didn’t you? You want your nee-chan to split your pussy in two!” Fuyumi squeals, her fingers curling into your walls. You sob in response, the overwhelming pleasure spreading like fire through your body as she coaxes her fingers against your walls. Her other hand shoots out to your parted mouth, sinking two fingers into your mouth as you whine when she presses down against your hot, pink tongue. “Come on, I know you can take my fingers! Show your nee-chan how well you suck!”

You moan against her fingers, your tongue swirling and pressing between her nimble fingers. But further down, your stomach tightens, and your hips bucking against her fingers, your grinding, rolling hips desperate to get her to do more to you. And as if she could tell that you wanted more, that you needed more, Fuyumi’s head tilts down to suck onto your puffy clit. Your muffled moan only riles her further, her body shivering against yours. Her tongue peeks out, while her gaze falls on yours, the pink, soft tongue swirls your throbbing clit around in her mouth, the sucking sensation of her mouth making you plead to her around her fingers. Her eyes are locked on your desperate eyes. She doesn’t stop, her fingers now scissoring within you as you shudder against her movements.

And much to your pleasure, she continues.

Her tongue strokes against your clit, lapping at the puffy bundle of nerves. Her nose buries into your clit while she stroked your soaked slit, teasing your entrance with her tongue despite her conquesting fingers. But it does something to you, your body trembling with want and need, and you can’t help but scream in desperation.

“Fuck, nee-chan—!” your hands clutched at the metal chains of the handcuffs. They bury into the palms of your hand while Fuyumi continues her assault upon your cunt. Her fingers run against the walls of your cunt by your belly, goosebumps, and fluttering sensations knocking through you with every hither motion of her fingers. But it was that tongue of hers that had you seeing the stars and the universe. Her tongue alternated from thrusting within your pulsing core, teasing your clenching flesh, sucking and nipping, and your blazing clit. She kneaded your clit between her fingers as you felt an unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. The feeling to pee was overwhelming your body as you tried to ignore it. Your eyes clenched shut as Fuyumi’s mouth, and fingers continued rutting into you, the loud squelch of her skin against your core sounding around the room, your cunt clenching down hard against her dancing fingers.

Fuyumi lets go of your clit all too soon and sighs happily. “You’re such an amazing little sister! Your pussy is so wet and so tight for me! You even squirted without me doing anything too drastic, and I don’t even have a cock in you still! Are you going to come so quickly again? You’re not going to tap out on your nee-chan before she’s done, are you?” Your head shakes fast, your back arching off the seats as you try getting more friction to your pussy that had experienced a goddesses touch and now wanted more. “I know you’re a good whore, you won’t come yet right now, right?”

Her fingers leave your mouth, and you cough with her disappearance. Your chest heaves as if you had been gagged or choked. Not at all what was happening to you right now, but in anticipation of what was to come.

“Nee-chan, please, I want you now!”

Fuyumi doesn’t even flinch as she instead removes her fingers from within you and runs her slick covered fingers against the dildo, much to your soft whimpers. 

You watch with increasing lust as Fuyumi removes her lacy snow bra. Now in front of you, gloriously naked and beautifully armed with that dildo, you wanted to kiss your cervix on her hips. She’s beautiful and perfect, and you wanted her to ruin you. Her breasts look full and ready to be touched, her curves making you feel jealous as she leans back over you. “Did you know you have the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, y/n-chan?” You grunt, not at all liking all the talking and wanting her to sink that fucking dildo into yours. “Do you need to come now? You were taking my fingers so well, and I think my pretty little whore sister needs to come. I sure want to come; don’t ya, y/n-chan?”

You sob as your hands pull desperately against the restraint, your body unable to move from your position. “Yes, nee-chan, I want you to fuck me!” you cry as her fingers trace the sides of your body, your hips squirming under her touch. “I want to come, and I want you to cum on me.”

“You say such sweet things for a little sister,” Fuyumi giggles as she pushes your trembling legs back, the dragon cock held and guided with one hand to your awaiting dripping hole. “I hope you’re ready!”

“Please fuck me, please fuck me so good,” you plea, your eyes closing as you readied yourself, the tip of the dragon cock pressing into your eager cunt.

You could clench your eyes closed, the feeling of Fuyumi’s hips twitch with a whimper at the direct plea. She pulls out slightly and then pushes back, adding a tiny, yet powerful snap to herm hips, and your resulting sob for more seems to finally convince her exactly how much you needed to be fucked beyond sanity.

Finally, finally, Fuyumi buries her dragon dildo into your stretching, clenching cunt. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the thick cock pushed slowly into you as if to torture you. You realized where you wanted Enji to be slow in burying his fat cock in you, you wanted her to be fast — this burned so slowly with her slow pace, and if the Cheshire grin on her face spoke anything, she knew that this is what you were thinking too.

Every vein on the dildo pulses against your vice walls, her hips steady as she lowered herself further into you. Your ragged exhausted pants hit her cum stained and sweaty chest, and the both of you look down to see that only half of the dildo fit in you. You’re surprised that much fits in you, but the fullness in your core tells you that it makes sense. Your eyes clench while you adjust to the size of that monster, but Fuyumi doesn’t take too long to recover from her own hesitations. Fuyumi’s hips then start rutting into you, hitting your hips in a fast, barbaric rhythm. And every single inhibition has left your body — this is like no dick you’ve ever experienced before, nothing has ever filled you out in such a way and… holy shit, what was that?! Your chants become incoherent screams when you realize that with every thrust of her hips, the dildo was vibrating against your walls.

“Yes. Yes, yes! Shit! Keep fucking me, keep—god, please don’t stop, nee-chan, it’s so good, it’s so so good—nee-chan!”

You can feel every millimeter of Fuyumi inside you. The dildo smashing unapologetically into your cervix that has you singing to the heavens, her steel hands in a bruising grip on your throat — not effectively silencing your whorish scream. Your essence sliding down and smearing all over the crease between your thigh and cunt – and all the time, Fuyumi’s momentum is building.

She drills faster and faster, she pleads that her younger sister is happy, the only thing you can hear is your pleasure-filled sobs and the smacking of her hips against yours. Your body twists and convulses, your wrists tremble from being held back, and with a climactic high, you came with an echoing sob. 

You lay broken against the bed, your body heaving and twitching when Fuyumi pulls the dildo from your cunt. You whimper heavily at the loss of contact, your wrists weakly circling in a poor attempt of drawing her near. Fuyumi cries happily while she tumbles off the bed, kissing you softly on the cheek as she removes the handcuffs.

“Because I can’t stuff you full with my cum, that’s it from me for now,” she sighs before disappearing with a soft giggle of delight.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity, your body sticky with sweat and cum, sore and throbbing from everything else you’ve endured.

“You seem to be a good girl, y/n,” Natsuo’s voice rings clear as day by your thighs.

With eyelids that felt like lead, you peered at Natsuo, smiling at you with kindness. Had it not been because Fuyumi had also approached you with the same sweet smile, maybe you would have reacted differently, but no. You were ready.

The Todoroki’s were cunning, deceitful, and powerful.

But there was a soothing coldness to his fingers. Soft coldness spread through your aching body, helping alleviate the burning sensations that trademarked the other Todoroki members. There were bruises all over your body, welts, and tears in your skin.

You didn’t mind them. After all, the masochist in you had been born ten times over today, it seemed. 

“There are some rules you must know before we begin,” Natsuo spoke with direct clarity, his face soft yet stern, his fingers gliding aimlessly around your heated inner thighs and cutting through your hood to your clit. You gasped loudly, your body spasming under his tantalizing touch, and he chuckled, his lips pressing to your knee. “You will address me as daddy, nothing else. Secondly, you will obey me, no matter what I say, or else…” his fingers forked through your clit, squeezing the sensitive nub between his strong fingers that had your body convulsing underneath him, “You will get punished, and I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”

There was a buzzing in your mind, a sweet need to see what would happen if you denied him. So far, it has only led to good things for you, things you would not have exchanged for the world. But still, you knew better than to test them out in the beginning; Enji’s handprint on your neck was more than enough evidence to tell you to wait until later.

“Hands and knees,” Natsuo spoke, his hands stroking and massaging your inner thighs in a way that just further ignited the fire that spewed madly within your loins.

Rolling onto your knees, your arms buckled beneath you as you positioned yourself for him, your pert ass in the air, bruised and swollen beyond its initial appearance. You drop your back, allowing for the arch of your back to entice him to show off for your current daddy and Shouto, who was watching.

Without looking, you knew that your asshole was wet with the leaking cum of both Touya and Enji would have both filled you up plenty. And Natsuo stared at the milky opaque substance with interest, his arms crossed his chest.

Impatience began to soak through your skin, a pout on your face as you wiggled your ass for good measure, trying to capture Natsuo’s attention.

“Daddy, please do something!” you whined and broke his stern gaze from your ass to your eyes. 

His eyes were dark, sparkling with that energy they all seemed to possess: cunning and possessive. A smirk spread on his lips as he chuckled, stepping closer to the bed.

“Where would you want me to touch you, princess?” Natsuo questioned, his hands already assuming a position on your ass, pushing the mounds of flesh apart only to let them come back and slap together. Your cunt, having already been abused, still sparked with life, but it seemed that a chill ran through your ass. Only having had Enji’s fingers up your ass, you craved for something more, something sturdier — thicker. “Show your daddy.”

You whimpered, teetering onto one hand as your now free hand grabbed your breast, pinched your nipple, and moved to your puffy clit. 

Natsuo watched you like a hawk, his eyebrow-raising when your fingers slipped between your wet folds and even glided to your tight asshole. 

“There?” he spoke, his voice sounding restrained and tight.

You moaned, “I want daddy’s cock everywhere.”

Biting your lower lip, you saw Natsuo groan, his fingers slipping into your cunt, pleased with the heat and the wet juices that still remained. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Natsuo groaned, his mouth placing approving kisses on the small of your back. “I thought they were going to ruin you for your daddy, but fuck… I wonder… daddy wonders how tight that pretty little ass of yours is.”

You shiver at the prospect, your eyes pleading for him to indulge in his thoughts as you wiggle your ass in approval.

“You want that, huh, princess, you want daddy to breed that little asshole of yours!” Natsuo grinned, his teeth scraping the length of your spine, and you shook with glee.

“Yes, daddy! I want you to breed my asshole, please fuck my asshole!” you begged, feeling his calloused fingers already circling around your hips, trailing to your outer than inner thighs as you trembled against him. 

Natsuo pressed sloppy, wet kisses from the top of your ass down until he met your slicked inner thigh, just avoiding the throb of both your ass and cunt. You keened against him, fingers burying into the wet mattress as you tried not to beg too loudly, you mustn’t disturb your daddy. 

“Such a good girl, princess,” Natsuo praises, his fingers curling within your cunt again, slicking his fingers up with your essence. They pump within you lazily, and you moan loudly, eyes fluttering as you press your face against the mattress, your walls forcibly clenching against his fingers. He eventually pulls out of your wet heat, and teasingly, horribly edges you when his fingers circle around your clenched muscle, getting close enough for you to whimper, but too far for any sort of pleasure. “Good fucking girl,” he repeated, his other hand moving to your clit, pinching and tugging at the nerve with soft, languid strokes. “Daddy thinks you deserve to be treated.”

You didn’t have the chance to support his decision for his hand came smacking against your ass with a powerful thrust, nearly sending you toppling over as you shook against him. He spanked you again, and again, and again—the flesh on your ass bouncing against his movements, sending Natsuo into a wide grin of amusement. 

“Tell me where you want daddy’s mouth the most right now,” Natsuo asked, fingers clenching your ass, massaging the sore flesh in his cold hands. 

“My ass!” you sobbed, feeling entirely spent by every little movement. “Daddy, I want you to eat my ass!”

“Such a dirty princess,” Natsuo scoffs, but there's enjoyment in his voice, and his warm, hot breath expels against your pert, puckered hole. 

You shook against him, rotating your hips as you felt the ghost of his lips breeze against your hole. His fingers, still wet with your slick, suddenly invaded your ass, and you keened loudly at the feeling of two thick fingers suddenly pressing past your unsuspecting, unanticipated hole. You, like a bitch in heat, rolled your hips, your breathing heavy and hot as you nodded your head in wordless praise.

“Fuck…” you managed, your eyes barely in focus to see the throbbing cock tented in Shouto’s pants, and you grin.

But as his fingers press downward onto your hole, you shudder, mouth falling open when his wet, hot tongue presses through your asshole, licking and lapping at the skin that was untouched by his fingers. You shook manically, your body trembling as he ate your ass, the wet, lewd noises almost pornographic as you screamed for your daddy.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, arms restlessly moving behind you to shove his face further between his ass, to get his tongue even further in your anal cavity. His thumb was spreading the slick of his saliva all-around your asshole, his fingers and tongue probing further into your ass, allowing you further penetration as you moaned his name.

His mouth completely surrounded your muscled hole, and your vision blacked when he sucked on your asshole, letting your legs shake furiously as you trembled with the vacuuming sensation. “Holy shit — daddy!” you squeaked in shock, back arching even further as that new sensation burned through your body. But he didn’t stop there; he continued to move forward, continuing to assault your pretty and raw ass.

His tongue fucked your ass, and his other fingers slipped into your cunt, his middle finger rubbing your clit as you shook with waving rolling pleasure. Your head snapped to look at him, eyes desperate and keen on looking into his amused, bright eyes. They sparkled with joy, winking at you with no remorse as his tongue flicked the innards of your anal cavity. 

“You like me eating your ass, princess? Tell me how much you like my tongue in your ass,” Natsuo growled against your rim, voice shaking your core, making your eyes flutter with the growing need. “Tell your daddy.”

You moaned loudly, your ass shaking with the need for him to focus even more on your ass as senseless babbles poured from your throat, “Daddy’s tongue feels so funny in my ass! It’s so wet, so hot, so long! It makes my ass feel f-funny!! Daddy’s making my ass and pussy feel so good!”

Four fingers pressed into your hole, and you screamed in the alarming pain, your teeth sinking into your arm as Natsuo thrust his fingers in and out of your stretched and wet asshole. He drilled into your sloppy ass, uncaring of the way that Shouto snapped at him, only drinking in the vulgar cries of his name that you continued to supply him in endless amounts. 

“Can daddy add his last finger into your ass?” Natsuo asked, his thumb scraping the cleavage of your ass. “Can daddy put his finger in and fist your ass? Daddy knows you can take it, princess, you’re doing so well, you can take daddy’s cock in your pretty little ass.”

His pumping fingers were too much for you, your head mindlessly nodding in agreement because the moment five fisted fingers entered your ass, you could no longer think straight. Natsuo smirked, his tongue whirling within your spasming hole.

With his fist now entirely in your ass, you struggled to breathe, your lungs feeling as if it was in your ass, and the fingers that once delighted your cunt was replaced suddenly with his thick, throbbing cock. 

You couldn’t remember what was right, what was up, or your name at the entirely full feeling of his cock and fist in your cunt and ass. You shook violently, cumming immediately as he bottomed out within you and wasted no time in snapping his hips into you. Except, his fist suddenly leaves your clenching, gaping asshole, and he rolls you over, cock resting on your stomach as he looks at you with wicked pleasure.

Natsuo grabs your legs, hoisting them up so that the angle of which he was attempting to fuck you in was prime breeding position.

“Daddy’s going to give your pussy what it wants now, and he’s going to overfill you with his cum until you dripping him out for days… you’d look so cute pregnant, y/n, so fucking cute.”

You’re not sure if that last part was for you or for Shouto, whose gaze is still carved into every slick cover curve on your body. But it makes you let out a strained moan, a moan that has his lips spreading into a smile against your jaw. Without much time to think, time to even attempt to grow comfortable with the situation you were in, his hips snapped upward, his cock fully hard and bottoming out in you with one powerful snap.

Your knees are subsequently buried within the mattress by your head. Your body aching in this position, and your toes curling and pressing against each other. Natsuo lays on top of you, the penetration deep and thrilling, and his hands pressing your forearms above your head. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and while you feel your face drum with the blood staying in your head, the feeling of his balls bouncing against your ass sends you spluttering with undenied lust.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips attach to your neck. Each blow into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you crying so loudly, you can hear it ringing against the walls, his hands bruising your forearms in his. The thrusts are so powerful, incredibly jolting with your head bouncing on the mattress.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you mewl loudly, your hips jerking up to meet his, your heels digging into his back, lifting you off the bed to meet his powerful, sweat breaking thrust.

“Cum in me,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure behind the blindfold, “breed me, please, breed me.”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kids, not those old as shit men,” he snaps against your jaw, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. 

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you; the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Natsuo bites at your jaw, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way my tongue ate your ass?” 

You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left a loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against your collarbone, and his lips sunk into your skin.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. Natsuo is entirely lost in the feeling of your clenching vice walls, his ragged breaths hitting your skin with every excessive, overpowering roll of his hips. You cry while your head thrashes against the mattress, your forearms slamming against his head while you pant.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growls, and once again slams into you. “No wonder why Shouto didn’t want to share you.”

His hips continue to drive into you, a show of just how much he wanted to fill you, claim you despite your Shouto sitting so nearby. His thick cocking strained your walls, but the way his cock would twitch within the confines of your plush, spongy walls had you reeling for more. Your teeth biting into his skin when an incredibly hard thrust sent your eyes to the back of your head, your back arching, cunt squeezing as you tumbled off the high point.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Natsuo collapses onto you. Your jaw-dropping and gaping like a fish out of water while your eyes fluttered with your crashing high. There’s a silence for a while, the weight of Natsuo on your body a comfort until he’s pulling away from you, cock slipping from your cum filled cunt, and body abandoning yours on the bed. But you don’t look; you’re too tired to look.

“Get up, fucking whore,” a voice breaks your thoughts, and your closed eyes twitch towards the Touya’s voice. There was a pause before he spoke again, a smirk evident in his tone.“It’s time for the best part.”

Your eyes focused hazily onto the group of family members around you, your thoughts racing a mile a second in the horrific wonder of what was to come. 

You had already gone through them all on your own. You had seen how they fucked you on their own grounds, their own terms, but this was different. There was obvious tension in the four of them, dynamics, and intense feelings unable to be muffled in this state. Their personalities when it was just you and them clearly having been discarded. Their actions and thoughts are now clearly swayed by who they were now forced to work with.

Shouto was the last one to be married, you knew that, and you were the only one he’s dated. With that knowledge, you knew that they’ve never been in a situation like this before. 

You glanced at Enji, whose face was stern and solid. There was no emotion on his face, save the scorching embers in his eyes that passed between his sons. A fire curled in your core when that same gaze fell on you, and you immediately understood what he was rationalizing. He was older now, especially when he fucked the other spouses — he was no longer the true alpha. By the looks of how there was no bite to his face, you knew he was here to see which son was best.

Touya looked at you in a possessiveness that should be reserved for the one he loved most, not someone like you. His eyes stared straight into you, unwavering, unmoving. You were nothing more than some lucky bitch in his eyes, but a bitch that he was going to make sure everyone knew was his. His chest puffed out in want and excitement, a hint for anyone to challenge him. He was going to make sure everyone abided by him — he was the one fighting hardest for the proper alpha role.

Fuyumi was the complete opposite. Even though she had probably fucked you the best out of everyone in the circle, she came off as a non-threat. Her fingers gentle while cleaning you up from the sweat and cum that marinated your body. You can’t even pass up a thank you for you’re beyond words. She was a tricky one, someone who commanded things from the shadows and behind a sweet smile. Fuyumi could take Touya down if he wasn’t careful. 

Then there was Natsuo. His gaze continuously shifts between his older siblings as if in worry, in fear of what they might do or say to him — as if he didn’t tower over them. If you weren’t so dazed by the sheer pleasure of this all, you might have wondered just what might have happened between them all before. Still, it is evident that he had begrudgingly accepted his subordinate role; you could practically taste that in the air, but the defiance shone brightly in his eyes. He still wanted you as much as they did, and he would be damned if he gave in without a fight.

Finally, Shouto, who still was strapped to the chair, but he was someone you were well aware of. He’d always been the unspoken chosen one of the family, someone who undoubtedly would kill both Enji and Touya for how they stared at you. You shivered at the thought.

For the first time that night, the vast bed would finally be used to its full potential. 

They all climbed on at once, the bed sinking on multiple locations, and your hands pressed onto the mattress, excitement coursing through your veins as they drew nearer. You were unsure where to look first, who to give your attention to first because good god, you wanted them all on you, in you. But Fuyumi was without her strap on, and your eyes fell onto Shouto, who was staring at you with a raging hard-on. Rei petted his hair while she drank what was definitely her tenth glass of wine, her own eyes swimming with lustful mirth.

It takes no time for all of them to mount the bed, and suddenly, your face is covered while Fuyumi plants her slick wet pussy over your gaping mouth. Hands pressing against your ass to lift you up as a cock that feels vaguely familiar to Natsuo fills your ass out, and the cold piercings of Touya's cock press through your tight cunt as you whine into Fuyumi’s folds. You feel something hot and thick press into your palm, and you know it's Enji’s cock.

“How is she still this fucking tight?” Touya moaned, his hips pressing into you, bottoming out inside you. You moaned loudly inside Fuyumi’s core, her loud mewling ringing in your ears as you awkwardly, inexperienced lapped at her soaked folds as the brothers' cocks moved within your throbbing cunt and ass. “You think her fucking quirk is the reason why she doesn’t ever loosen up despite having been pounded to hell and back?”

Your hand tries to run up and down Enji’s cock, fisting his thick length as you eat Fuyumi out with more vigorous, more confident laps. But the piercings on Touya’s cock and the veins on Natsuo’s cock seem to be hypersensitive against your spent walls. The feeling of two, irreplicable cocks within your ass and cunt, making your head spin as your teeth graze Fuyumi’s clit, fingers tracing Enji’s cock.

Fuyumi's hand reaches behind you to clench at the roots of your hair as she shifts her hips, wasting no time to allow herself the greatest amount of pleasure against your virgin mouth. Trying to replicate what you knew well from Shouto, and what she had done to you so many minutes earlier, your tongue pushed against her slit, not going through, but just enough to lap at the essence that had already pooled from her lips. And then a satisfied groan escaped her as the tip of your tongue pushed against her cavern. And she rocked against your face, falling even deeper onto your face.

“Yes, just like that, little sister!” Fuyumi bubbles, her hips grinding down lower on your mouth, your nose pressing awkwardly onto her circulating hips. 

Your hips thrust upward against Natsuo’s and Touya’s cocks, and both men fumbled their tongues, their cocks slamming within you, grazing your cervix and hitting your guts in a single stroke. Your fingers nearly let Enji’s cock slip from your grip as you tried to focus on getting them all to feel good; you wanted to win this, wanted to get that ring on your finger and make them submit to you being one of them — the best of them.

“You really picked a great one, Shoucchan, oh my god—” you caught Fuyumi off guard as your hand slips from beside you, curling against her clit with accurate precision given the way that she nearly collapses against you. “Yes, just like that! Yes, yes!” she chants, her hips grinding down on you, your back pressed against her breasts, giving her the only other stimulation you could. 

“Enji, she’s doing so well.” 

A voice called out sweetly in the background, and your eyes skimmed to the side to see Rei at the foot of the bed. Her wine glass she had been drinking this entire time abandoned on her chair and Shouto struggled against the restraints with shivering shudders of the chains. Enji’s eyes looked down at his wife, and he nodded in agreement, pulling out his length from your hand and watching his sons thrust into your cunt and ass like it was god's one and only gift. 

Rei’s tongue playfully lolling out while she continued to observe the erotic scene before her. She wet her lips at the sight of her daughter riding your face, the vulgar moans that sang from your lips as Fuyumi praised you again and again. 

“You’re so good at this,” Fuyumi whines, her thighs tensing around you, her weight pushing against you, and you moaned while grinding your nose on her large clit. “I'm gonna cum on you, y/n-chan.”

“Do you think we need to teach our sons how to fuck women better?” Rei questioned, her gaze peering on your tear-soaked ones. You whined against their cocks as you struggled to keep up with the impossibly wide stretch of your ass and cunt as they fucked you savagely, uncaring of what noises you were screaming for them. But the rhythmic hitting of both their cocks against the slick of your sweaty, slick skin. 

The piercings of Touya’s cock became a more burning feeling, and when your eyes fell back up to Fuyumi’s bright tear-filled eyes, you were almost surprised to see that it was no longer raging lust in them, just joy. You choke against Fuyumi’s core, the sweet taste of her essence doubling on your tongue with the removal of your nose for breathing. But you struggle to breathe and continue dancing your language between her folds with your fingers as assistance, her fingers return to your nipples.

As your tongue twirls and lifts, her fingers roll and pinch. 

She matches your every move with something new on your fingers, getting you to kick out your legs in building release, and her hips roughly buck against your face, her cunt quivering against your touch.

Hissing loudly, you nearly scream at the way her fingers pinch your nipples. And she cries at the way your tongue laps at her juices as if you were a starved woman. And she came harshly, entirely on your face. You didn’t even recognize the sensation of the two cocks suddenly exiting your body, only that they were done.

 Your gasping concentration was broken when Fuyumi abandoned you from above, and you pushed off the bed with heavy arms, only to meet Natsuo’s chest — it seemed he tossed Touya from the bed. He rolled you over so that he was beneath you, chests pressed against each other, his length carded between your ass, grinding against your wet slit. Your essence mixed with his pre-cum that quickly soaked his cock, and you looked down to see Natsuo ease you up and onto his length into your pussy with one deep thrust. 

“I didn’t get to tell you this, but you’re so fucking tight,” Natsuo’s voice was gruff and victorious when he began to move inside you. Touya’s voice growled loudly in these deceitful actions, his body scrambling behind you while you took in Natsuo’s impressive length again. Fuyumi rolled in front of you, her ass shaking in the air, and she winked at you.

“Eat my ass?”

And for your nee-chan, you did.

Touya sinks behind you, Natsuo’s victorious position is unable to be challenged while continues to rut into you from below, his thrusts slow and deep. But Touya spreads your ass cheeks apart, your abused, pert puckered hole prematurely clenching at the knowledge of what’s to come. You could tell from the heat on his fingers what his intentions were, and you moaned deeply into Fuyumi’s wet asshole at the teasing sensation of Touya’s fingers against your awaiting hole.

Fuyumi keens. “Yes, just like that,” she moans, her hands moving to her breasts, deliberately touching herself while your tongue flicked and fucked her ass. 

Your half-lidded eyes gazed up at Shouto, who had a vein throbbing angrily on his temple, his skin flushed, his pants still angrily tented. You had half a thought to remove your mouth from Fuyumi’s sweet core, to flash a teasing smile from your position that you knew he wanted in on, but you were cut off well before you could consider pulling away. Touya’s spit hits your ass, the cold, thick liquid sending indescribable sensations through your spine, and just as quickly, his cock sank into your tight, pretty ass and began a fast, savage pace inside you. 

Natsuo hadn’t bothered to stop his thrusts. Making it more challenging for Touya to penetrate you, and the searing pain of your holes being fucked by two different cocks simultaneously had your face-planting further into Fuyumi’s ass. Natsuo’s own fingers slithered down between your pressing hips to rub rapid circles around your clit to try and help you forget the pain of your tight hole being invaded. 

Both men bottomed inside you, both of them still continue to fuck you, unable to show a moment of hesitation now that they were face to face.

You sobbed at the feeling as Touya's steel ball piercings pushed against the sensitive and tight walls of your ass. Both of their grips on your waist and hips, pushing you and pulling you against their throbbing cocks. Your head turns away from Fuyumi’s rimmed asshole to find where Enji and Rei were. The family's matriarch quickly and if not expertly sucking her husband's cock with the skill and demeanor of teaching you and her family.

“Watch, children,” Enji commanded, but his voice was weak, obviously too lost on the feeling of Rei’s tight, hot mouth to really care what his sons were up to.

“Nobody wants to see that shit, geezer,” Touya snapped out as he grinned at the way Natuso’s cock rubbed against him as both males for a moment matched in pace. 

“Shit,” you cried into Fuyumi’s cunt, your fingers trying to fuck her wet cunt and ass, her praising words falling on your deaf ears. This felt like nothing you had ever felt before, pleasure coursed through your whole body as you felt the tight coil inside you desperately close to snapping. Natsuo’s fingers continued to rub messy circles on your clit as your breasts bounced at Touya’s rough, deliberate thrusting. 

“Don’t stop!” Fuyumi snaps, her hand reaching behind her, grabbing you by the roots of your hair, pushing you back against her clenching asshole. Your nose burying into her crack, your tongue prodding against her throbbing walls. She emitted a low, pleasurable whine at that, her hips snapping vigorously against your face.

“I’m needa… holy shit, I needa cum.” you whined against Fuyumi’s core, your fingers weakly curling within her, the pleasure was overwhelming as you felt yourself teetering closer to your bliss.

 “Cum, princess, cum for daddy.” Natuso bit against your collarbone as he continued his rough pace inside of you, his allowing words the impetus for your release as you came with a cry. Your body clenching and tensing around both men as you ride out your orgasm, your fingers shaking within Fuyumi’s core, your entire body spasming.

“I’m almost there, keep doing that with your mouth, and I’ll get there. You can do this, y/n, I know you’re good with that mouth of yours. Eat my fucking ass out, I know you can do better,” Fuyumi’s appreciate chanting while your tongue dripped with your saliva and her essence. She made your cunt clench against Natsuo, a sharp whine on your voice, vibrating all the way to her core, her sweet voice inciting liquid fire and lip biting motions from you.

Natsuo’s breathing stammered against your sweating chest, his eyes clenching shut while he hammered even faster into you. Your body bouncing with new power as he thrust sloppy and sloppier, “Gonna breed you, gonna fill you up with my sperm, princess.”

And with that promise, your eyes crossing with undenied pleasure as he still continued to thrust up into you despite his promise. 

“Boys, you’re a-already done?!” Enji barked, his fingers fisted into Rei’s hair, his hips snapping up into her mouth while she took him in with ease and grace you only dreamed you could have. There was a gagged giggle from Rei, who pressed further against Enji’s cock, her nose burying against the soft pubes on his pelvis, and Enji’s attention quickly stolen away.

They, however, were not done quite yet. He pushed your body down at more of an angle so he could continue his harsh thrusts inside you. Pressing you further into Fuyumi’s dripping cunt so that her essence was smeared all over your face so that your tongue could reach even further into her clenching cunt while your eyes roll back. 

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you, slut? Bet you wished you could see just how you’re affecting this family. Bet you want us all to fill you up like the dirty cumslut you are. The breeding whore that you are. But I’m the only one you actually want cumming in you, right?” Touya continues to roughly pound inside you, a hand coming down to tear into your ass as you feel your body shake at the feeling of another orgasm, legs trembling as your body convulses. 

“Yes, just like that!” Fuyumi cried, enjoying the way your fingers ran against her spongy walls, and she clenched around both your tongue and fingers. You can feel her body convulse as she cums, and you moan as her taste floods your senses, overpowering even Touya, who thrusts into you three more times, sending hot cum inside your ass with a grunt. 

Saliva and slick dribbling down your chin while Fuyumi collapses before you. 

You moan pathetically when you feel the hot, thick cum of Natsuo spilling inside your womb, and all siblings are out for the count, cocks still buried in you, but no longer fucking you.

“I think you still that shit geezers cum in you,” Touya observed, landing another harsh smack on your behind. The motion made you lurch forward. Your mouth never felt so lonely. 

“Please, please,” you babbled while trying to persuade the brothers to continue to fuck your holes mercilessly, your words muffling with your wanton cries and pleas. He grunted at the sensation, his cock twitching inside your cunt as you knew he was reaching his end once again. 

“Please, what?” Natsuo snapped, his hips unable to keep from thrusting so powerfully upwards, you nearly tumbled forward. 

“Say it louder!” Fuyumi gleefully sang, her fingers digging into her cunt, her hips thrusting up to pleasure herself. Her foot moving upward to press against your chin in a power move that made you bite down with intense vigor on your lower lip.

“Please put your cum in my mouth, otou-san!” you desperately screamed.

But there was a growl that came from Enji, and your eyes watched the way that Rei’s mouth expertly took in her husband's cock with no still, no hesitation, or an ounce of pain. Your vision was crossing and blurring in pleasure at the light but synchronized thrusting of both Natsuo and Touya. You shivered, watching Rei commanded herself against his length, and with a powerful and loud grunt, Enji came into Rei’s mouth. A wanton moan left your lips at the sight of Rei pulling away from him, a trail of saliva and cum keeping his cock tied to her mouth, but even you could tell she didn’t swallow.

Your heart hammered in your chest when she rose up to her full height, her grey eyes meeting yours immediately, and she strode over. Every step is slow, powerful, and commanding.

She smiled sweetly, something you hoped meant that you were doing well in this entire situation, and as if to ease your doubts and worries, her lips pressed against yours. You could say that it was a kiss, but the way that she climbs onto the bed, ignoring her masturbating daughter, allowing your head to stretch backward, you know that it isn’t. 

Milky white and thick substance dribble past her lips and into your mouth. It’s a messy exchange, sloppy at best, but your mouth opens, a blind and degrading attempt to get every single drop of Enji’s cum to pour into your mouth. You swallow it all, gasping when Rei pulls away, her fingers stroking your cheeks with fondness and joy, “Good girl!”

You were done.

Your chest heaves at the sight of Shouto’s siblings and father leave your bed one by one, your body deflating when the cocks leave you, but somehow Touya is the last one to leave. His mouth presses into your ear before he goes, his fingers hidden by his figure twist at your nipple, your mouth whining softly. “Make sure you give Shouto a hard time, don’t give in.” 

Your eyes lock with Natsuo, who nods in agreement, and you realize that this was something they had wanted too. 

The worst part is that you want to see it happen. What would happen if you push Shouto past all his boundaries after all of this. And with that, he shoves you onto the bed. You feel like the world is spinning as you lie there. The realization of everything that’s happened to you within the past however long, the incessant need for more. You wanted more of this, you wanted Shouto more than anything too, but in this mental slip, you knew that you were going to make Shouto work for you. These alphas commanded it, after all. 

You laid silently on the mattress. Your body used to the maximum, the feeling of cum still seeping from your throbbing cunt that felt like it could cum no more today. But more importantly, was the clanking of metal hitting the floor, proud chuckles sounding in the air that makes you keen for the sound against your ear, and the sound of a storm approaching hits your ears. 

Oh yes, you were so beautifully fucked, and yet, you were so, so ready for it.

.

..

.

Shouto had never, ever felt this way before. 

White-hot fury and jealousy corroded his veins, yet there was unmistakable pride as he watched your used, cumstuffed body lay on the bed. He’s unsure if the lips that press to his cheek are his mother or his sister, unsure if they whisper something against his sweating, hot skin. He watches his father remove the restraints from him, steam curling out of the quirk cancelers as they dropped heavily to the floor. 

He hated this initiation; he hated having to share you. He didn’t want you anywhere near his family anymore, not with how you were able to keep up with their monstrous personalities in bed. 

Shouto was the baby of the family, but he was the best — the perfect creation of them all — and he was going to prove it. With his body finally free, and his family taking their seats, his siblings' grins searing into his back, he stalked over to the bed where you lay. You reeked of sex and his family’s cum, and his eyes narrowed at the way your eyes were closed in your exhaustion.

Ten minutes his ass, he was going to fuck you until he saw fit. 

You were his, after all.

Delirium filled your body while you stared up at your lover. 

Eyes wide in hunger, desire, and an unquenchable need that you had no idea existed within you. His wrists were bright red, the apparent struggle from being contained in his chair almost too obvious. His fingers rolled against his tender flesh, but you turned your focus over to the panting Todorokis’. They were all sitting in their chairs, sweat lining their brows, clothes barely on, and staring at you like you were the best sacrificial whore. You were the best, you wistfully sigh, your giggles escaping your mouth despite Shouto climbing onto the cum-stained bed with you.

The bed was loud in your ears, but the throbbing need and your weakened body still managed to wiggle away from Shouto despite it being his turn.

He hadn’t broken free from the restraints, you thought, pouting when his steel-like grip fastened onto your ankle and yanking you back towards him. Whining softly, the barely healed welts from Touya’s burning fingers on your ass dragged against the bed, and you looked up at Shouto with a pout on your face. Weren’t you enough for him to destroy the restraints that bound him?

You struggle against his hold, almost forgetting that it was Shouto on the bed when Touya and Natsuo chuckle. But something happens.

For the first time since you had entered this room, a pair of hot lips slam against yours—deadly, hot, and burning with passion, lust, and possession. Delicious and voluptuous moans escape your lips, your hands pressing flat against his bareback. His white t-shirt was tight on his body from his sweat, and his muscles pressed roughly against your body. You whimpered in your desire, trying to keep up with the way that he was devouring you with his mouth.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, sweeping across your tongue in the way that you liked it, the way that always made your back arch, and your breath hitched. Your moans are swallowed by his mouth, and his fingers dig their way further and further into your bruised hips. You try to pull apart from his lips, but when you pull away, Shouto is on you again, his lips glued to yours, his jean clothed bulge grinding into your raw, exposed cunt. 

You cry out loudly, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching into his because fuck was he already giving life to your cunt that you thought had died out several sessions ago. But it was rough, it was uncomfortable. 

“S-Shouto, your jeans!” you squeak into his mouth, your nails tearing through his shirt. “It hurts!”

“You can take it,” Shouto persisted, his mouth leaving yours and moving to your ear all while the fabric above the zipper now rubbing up against your clit in a way that made you pant harder against his mouth. But his next words are venomous; they’re dripped and soaked with unrestrained, raw jealousy that sends a powerful shiver down your spine when he whispers it in your ear. “Take it like you took all their fucking cum, you fucking whore. I know you probably enjoyed it — having them cum in your cunt? I can taste that stupid bitch and asshole in your filthy fucking mouth, how disgusting is that?”

“I didn’t h-have a choice!” you cry, his fingers expertly rolling against your clit, making your hips manically buck against his clothed hard cock, the building pressure in your core blazing higher and higher with his every stroke and move. “I had to get them to cum!”

“And when they told you to tell me who you belonged to? You really think that was a part of getting them to cum?” Shouto snarled, his teeth biting roughly into your skin that made you sing in pleasure-filled pain. His hips stop rutting into you, but you could hardly notice with your own desperate, wild thrusting. A wet spot drenched the crotch of his jeans, and you’re positive it’s all from you. “Tell me who the fuck do you belong to?”

“The Todorokis’!” you sob, and Shouto sneers.

His hands place themselves powerfully on your throat and your waist, shoving you away from him.

You cry in desperation, the orgasm that was seconds from exploding taken from you within a blink of an eye. Your head bouncing off the mattress while Shouto glowers over you, his eyes never this angry, and his lips pulled back into a snarl.

“So you think you’re the community whore?” he quietly rages, and you feel disgusted in the fact that his anger sends lustful shivers down your spine. “Guess I’ll have to fucking retrain you—” his lips pressed against your ear, his hot puff of airs spreading goosebumps wherever he touched— “You’re mine, only mine.”

“I’m going to make you taste like me again, gonna make every inch of you they ruined erased with my touch,” Shouto announced to you, his body still working around the bed, taking in everything he needed to make this just right.

Your eyes twitched while you watched him undress, the t-shirt flung towards his sitting family, his jeans dropped to the floor. You managed in heated anticipation as the cock you were ever so familiar with sprung free when he took off his underwear. Like a trained bitch, your cunt clenched and your mouth water while you watched the swollen, angry head bounced against his lower abdomen. He wasn’t the girth of Enji, the size of Natsuo or the monster that was Fuyumi’s strap, but still staring at the entirely long and thick cock made your mouth water, your eyes fluttering in need. 

“Are you going to fuck my mouth?” you begged in delicious need. “Please fuck my mouth, Shouto!”

“I did say I take all of them away, didn’t I?” Shouto narrowed his eyes as he stared at you. His hand reached to the box, a thin layer of ice overcoming the entire machine before he came up. “To kill their cum in your belly. Like fuck they’re breeding you.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly; the thought of ice-penetrating your readying cunt reminded you of the few times you’ve tried this before. “W-Wait but that really—”

“Still haven’t learned after all this time?” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

Your eyes widen in horny horror; he was allowed to do anything he wanted to you. Your shoulders strained, and you attempted to relax in the tied position, but Shouto was having none of that.

Grabbing you by the back of your neck, Shouto thrust you forward. Your parted and bruised lips were near the swell of his balls, the base of his cock. 

“Right there,” Shouto approved when your tongue took a slow and dreadfully long swipe at his throbbing cock. “You belong to me, and will only carry my children. I’m not putting my cock in your cunt when it’s full of their cum,” he says with a coy smile, his feet thrusting your knees further apart, dropping your needy cunt onto the iced dildo without so much as a sigh. 

Your back curled with the foreign bitter and icy dildo that seemed to melt within your blazing walls. You screamed his name, your body twisting at the cold intrusion, your body feels so wrong, yet the thrill and shivers that pulsating from your core made you moan like a bitch in heat. If it wasn’t for Shouto’s hold on you, you knew that you would have collapsed onto the mattress, but his grip was firm, and his eyes glinting in approval.

“Now,” he affirms, the smirk on his lips heard a mile away as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at. A loud mewl leaves your throat, the icy cock pushing further into your slippery core. His fingers snuck behind your head, gathering your hair, and a sob croaked through your voice as your body finally relaxed against the cold fucking. “Continue.”

With your head tilted backward, Shouto yanked his hand up, your head snapping down with a pained yelp, and with his other hand, he guided his cock down, sliding into your long-abused throat. But ever so eager, so apt to get his family to know they had no right over you, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips grinding down against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you gag against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands keeping steady on your hair, keeping your bobbing head at a pace he enjoyed. Your lips remained wide, your eyes blinking rapidly at the feeling of his hot flesh pressing dangerously against your tongue. He moves to knead your breasts, the bites, and bruises littering your chest, something he sneers at, something he jabs his fingers onto. You cry against his cock, the vibrations from your resulting actions making him moan low and tight.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto snaps, his fingers tweaking your nipples, pulling your lower lip down, so saliva poured without the ability to be stopped. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee as cum and water drip from your cunt. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine. You wanted nothing more than for him to claim you in front of his family to show that you were more than capable of joining their ranks. You wanted him to be yours and forever yours.

You wanted Shouto, you needed him.

Your deep moan of epiphany took Shouto by surprise. Shouto peering down on you with bemused eyes, the rolling of your hips against the machine that was making it angle into you differently, and your stomach bulged with every slam of the defrosting dildo. Your tongue pressed up against his swollen head, pressing flat against the leaking tip. Shouto’s thighs clench in his suppressed pleasure when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your teeth teasingly running against the underside of his cock, against his vein.

“I guess it doesn’t take long for you to remember whose whore you are,” Shouto grins, his hips moving more unrestrained into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum that soaked onto your tongue. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in, your throat relaxing with every inch you take, and tightening with every slam of the dildo. It was swinging highs, your throat clenching when you relaxed your cunt. It was a game, and it was one that Shouto was fond of.

He’s pulling on your hair hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he smirks when he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance turns aggressive and contentious; it’s too much for you to keep up with, the echoing wet gags emitting from your voice a beautiful reminder of you being a fuck toy to him. He steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from craving more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “Just like that, angel.”

There it was, you brightened at the nickname you were so used to hearing from him. Just as quickly as you caved back to him, he was back to you in full steam, he was yours, you were his. He was doing this for you, despite everything that would happen to the two of you after this night was done. He loved you, and every maddening, savage thrust of his hips only proved that.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are bordering deranged, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the chin with every slam of energy.

But you love the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips thrusting forward, the ice keeping the block in place cracking under your powerful twist, your walls clamping against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shift lower onto the dildo, trying to get the slowly heating dildo to kiss your cervix, his hands locked behind your head, and you cry around his cock, saliva dripping from your lips and your chin, falling on your chest and his thighs.

“That’s right, take my fucking cock, just like that,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still desperately revolves around the veins on his cock while you choke against his pounding force. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer.

“Angel,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, his face immediately recognizing the tremor in your body, the crossing of your eyes. “Fuck, y/n. You’re not gonna cum just… just—” he cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge, and his foot kicks the box away, ripping the no longer iced dildo from your cunt, stopping yet another high from crashing into you.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe, the sudden dismissal of the dildo catching you equally off guard. The force is a bit more than you expected, but you relax, trying to get yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it makes its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It explodes in your throat, and to your horror, you find yourself struggling to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you collapse awkwardly onto the bed, your core throbbing from your denied orgasm, and your airway burning as cum drips past your lips.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continue to let his cum run down your chin, dripping onto the cum soaked mattress. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a condescending smirk on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

Whatever he had used to hold your wrists and ankles in place were burned off the moment he got back on top of you, his hands pressing onto the mattress by your head the moment you managed to relax. Your eyes were hazy in lust and love while his eyes pierced through you heavenly. The smile that spread on his lips made you sight softly, his lips once again pressing against yours.

You pushed back against his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll deeply, languidly in your mouth. His lips were gliding effortlessly on yours. Quiet yet commanding while he slapped your cunt with his once again hard cock. 

“Shouto, I wanna cum,” you plead against his lips, your hands grasping onto his shoulders while you roll against his hard cock. “Please let me cum.”

“Don’t you think you’ve cum enough, angel?” he asks, his mouth trying to drown out every sound you made. “I finally made you taste like me.”

You stagger out a groan, your body trembling in desperate, uncontrollable need, “And I taste so good now! Please let me cum!””

Your begs do nothing to get Shouto to slam his cock in your cunt, but his teeth sink against old bites, igniting your skin, making you whimper under his touch. “Beg more,” he snaps, his fingers moving to grip your waist, his mouth hovering above yours, smiling when you follow after him like a trained bitch. “Tell me why you deserve my cock in your cunt.”

“I only want your cock,” you mewl, your arms wrapping against his neck, slamming his lips back onto your mouth. Your legs wrap around his waist, your hips grinding into his cock to reinforce your point. “I want your cum in me, I want my pussy to taste like you again! I want to feel your cock kissing my cervix, please Shouto, give me your cock.”

“You really are a mindless whore, aren’t you, angel?” Shouto laughs while he moves up, and to the credit of his strength, quickly lifts you well, his fingers burying into your soft, sore ass. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking fight back with me now? Are you really that desperate for my cock that you’re not even going to be the brat that I know you are?”

However, there is no time to argue the glee in Shouto is too grand to even consider making you bite back. He tosses you back onto the mattress, grabbing your legs and dragging you closer to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked bed until you are before him. Your pained breaths still as Shouto smirks down at you, his hand picking you up by your waist and flipping you over so that you are on your stomach.

Your gaze meets the other Todoroki’s who look at you with prideful, adoring looks. But before you could relish the feeling of their accepting eyes, Shouto has his chest pressed against your ass, his cold and hot skin burning into your ass, and his right hand angling his once again hard cock upwards to your cunt.

“Shouto…” you whimper, his teeth branding your skin. “Why didn’t you brand me properly.”

“It’s no fun fucking you if you pass out,” Shouto claims, placing a pillow underneath your head, and your heart swells at his actions. 

“Breed me then,” you pout, your eyes looking up at your lover as if gazing upon a god. Sweat trailed down his body. Your slick somehow all over his body, and yet he looked down at you with a smirk. You wanted his nine-inch cock finally pressed inside you, drilling into you until you lost sight of what was wrong or right.

“You want me to breed you?” he asks, his hands trailing to the underside of your thighs, slowly, teasingly lifting them up in a press he knew you enjoyed most. “Do you deserve to be bred?”

Your head nods, your teeth tearing into your lower lip when you grab his cock. You rut it between your folds letting new and old essence slick his cock up again, your eyes fluttering while your face heats up at the sight of his powerful, heavy eyes refusing to break contact with you. “I want you to fill me up, daddy. I want my belly bulging with you cum, I want you to cum in me, fill me till I ooze.”

There was a ragged breath that exhaled from Shouto’s lips while you aligned his cock right back up into your drumming cunt, his eyes blazing into yours with both fire and ice, and he said exactly what you want him to say. “I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my cum for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

There is something about having the wind knocked out of you when put into a mating press by Shouto that never fails to have you act up. Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, legs dangling over his shoulders, your toes curling and pressing against each other, while longing, loud cries of lust power through your throat. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping your hands. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and once again, his lips press hungrily against yours while balls deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each blow into you is massive and powerful, every stroke of your entangling tongues sends shivers down your spine. It’s powerful, ardent enough to have you sobbing in glee into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, pulling him impossibly closer so you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. You cry out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had broken not so long ago. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you ebulliently cry, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his heavy downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, baby,” you babble, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, breed me, breed me!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with our kids,” he rumbles, his cock throbbing and twitching within your pussy, and loud wet echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, cutting into his flesh in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you. The raw strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. He was the one made for you, you knew that with every barbarous thrust, every perfect cry that was swallowed by his mouth when he came back to kiss you. His lips are intoxicating as they are swollen and bruised. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt, raising your hips against his dominating cock, and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, angel?” Shouto sucks on your tongue despite the glimpse of humor in his eyes, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails scarring into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy? You like the way that despite all the cocks you just had, mine is still your favorite?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, the saliva string between the two of you breaking, and your pants tumbling from your mouth. 

Your sanity was lying on a string, his cock, and body the reasons for your downfall.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams became silent, your voice giving out as your eyes crossed, your tongue falling out of your mouth in a physical reaction to your pleasure.

“You look so cute like this. Look at how your belly fucking bulges when I fuck into you,” he growls into your ear, his hips unequally slamming into you. You shook, eyes barely able to look at your stomach that expands with every thrust, and you moan in fervor.

“I need you to breed me,” you strangle out, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoning his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm is too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, his cock viciously slamming side to side against your folds, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re mine. You’re beautiful, and you’re forever mine,” he promises, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, his hand shooting out to the headboard, the reinforced back thundering where he made contact, but he continues to drill into you over and over again.

“Cum, alpha,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, overfill me with your cum!”

“Who do you fucking belong to?!” he snarled once more, and you convulsed, white-hot pleasure shooting through you as your mouth, heavy by his ear, whispers a simple phrase.

“Yours and only yours.”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto’s hips jut into you a few more sloppily, wildly inconsistent times until he too collapses onto you. Neither one of you reacts as his family claps, but your mind and cunt is full of Shouto to care — your nose burying appreciatively into his neck. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s immense body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He doesn’t pull out of you yet, and the feeling of his cock growing soft in you makes you whimper, and he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

It takes a bit longer for you to allow him to climb off you; you wanted to have him pressed against you still, to be in this space with him and only him. But before Shouto can leave the bed to gather what he needs to clean the both of you up, a small pleased sigh comes from the seating area. Your eyes focused on the family who all watched you two with accepting, loving looks, and you try to calm Shouto, who stares aggressively at his family as if they had never seen you naked. However, Rei was the one to walk over to your sweaty sex smelling bodies and hugging you both tightly.

“You did so well, y/n!” Rei whispered against your ear, her hands holding both yours and Shouto’s when she pulls away, the kind motherly look in her eyes despite it all. “You deserve the Todoroki last name! I can’t wait to see what becomes of you two! Welcome to the family, Todoroki y/n!” 

Despite the intensity of the past hour, it’s this that makes your face burn, your stomach dancing with butterflies at the slip of her tongue.

“Maybe we can have some more fun later?” Touya raunchily grins while they file out of the door, his laughter like a bell in the wind when they do leave. 

You sigh softly, your head shaking. Your head looks down at Shouto, who’s looking down at his hands, his possessive expression gone, replaced by sincerity and ethereality. “What’s that?” you hoarsely whisper, your fingers grazing his wrists, your eyes widening when you saw a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. “That’s a beautiful ring…”

Shouto nods a hum on his lips in his agreement. He pauses, eyes dragging to your face, and the softest smile overcomes his face.

“Y/l/n y/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

You smile, a giggle erupting in your lungs, the pain of your body ignored as you crawl to him, your hand pressing onto his cheeks, your head nodding.

“Yes.”

“Welcome to the family... Todoroki y/n.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[fullfiresiren]

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

  — — — 5 years later — — —

 In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 18

Masterpost

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory

CW: recovering pet whumpee, environmental whump, references to an amputated finger, paranoia/hallucinations

-

As he turned to lock the final door behind him, Rowe could see that he had been in a warehouse, evidently a rarely-used one. A single floodlight was on, illuminating nothing but a bare wall and the road leading up to it. Rowe had been correct- it was night. The open air was a thousand blessings as he breathed it in. His eyes felt clean, he could stand up properly, he wasn’t wearing that fucking collar anymore.

The happiness was short-lived, but he let himself have it. He was free. He just had to get home, now.

Rowe would have panicked, at that moment, but instead his heart toughened, because Kasia hadn’t been able to break him down. He was missing a finger, and the throbbing pain made sure he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but he was still there, still himself. His nightmares would probably take a new form, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep alone again, but he was fine. He was a Pet. He was a person. Surviving was a skill of his.

He rested a hand on the wall, making sure he was hidden in shadow, and let himself take some of the weight off his scarred leg. Burnt, smashed, sewn up and burnt again. He would be limping, by the time he got home. But get home he would, and in some way, it was thanks to his leg. He had been sat on his bed, back when he couldn’t walk, looking for something to distract him from the feelings of anger and uselessness and what if he throws me out?

So he’d looked down and practised his reading. He remembered it perfectly. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

Rowe had read the address, and perhaps even then he’d known he might one day need it. It didn’t solve the problem of knowing whereHartland Road was, or whether he’d make it there without being stolen or beaten up or killed, but he had to try.

Kidnapped, he thought. You’d only say stolen for a piece of property.

The warehouse was evidently on the outskirts of town. Was it the right town? Rowe thought so, as he studied the lights shining down the road. Several of the shapes were familiar to him. The colourful string bulbs that were hung up along the shopping streets, the glow from the theatre on the hill, the dark spot where the graveyard sat. From his bedroom window he had to crane to get a good look, but he could see it well from the office. He ached to be back there. In the warmth and familiarity of it. Back with- Master? The word sounded strange now. Especially since- since Rowe felt like he understood him now. Understood his intentions.

He started to walk. Kasia’s jacket rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to put his arms in. The idea alone made him feel trapped. The thing smelt distinctly of the bastard, but Rowe knew it was preferable to the cold of a dead night. He found a main road soon enough, built up above the rest of the grassy flatland, so he gingerly climbed down the hill and walked alongside. He would be hidden from passing cars well enough, but his bare feet soon began to take the brunt of the choice of rough land over tarmac. Stones, sticks, was that roadkill, oh, god, all were littered through his journey which was only sparsely lit by the occasional road light. After a particularly sharp stone, or possibly even a discarded glass bottle, Rowe knew his foot was bleeding. He ground his teeth together. It wasn’t real if he couldn’t see it. And right now, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of him.

He kept his eyes on the lights from the town before him, slowly drawing closer.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him, running closer with horrifying speed. As they drew near he could hear Kasia screaming at him.

You think you can fucking get away from me? You think you locked that collar? You really think I won’t come back?

He kept his eyes fixed on the town. “It-it-it’s n-not real,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. He was trembling with fear. “It’s not real, I locked him up, I st-stopped him, it’s not real, it’s not.”

The paranoia wouldn’t leave him, though. Every passing car, though they were few and far between, made him jump and crouch down, hands clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t shake the fear that it was Kasia after him, out searching for the rotten escaped Pet. His leg burst with pain every time, making him whimper and cry when he tried to stand back up.

The sounds of footsteps gradually stopped, and Kasia’s voice faded, but Rowe could still feel his hands clawing at him. His back tingled with the overwhelming sensation that someone was behind him, creeping up and reaching out to grab-

Against his better judgement, he turned back. Darkness there, and nothing more. “Fuck, f-fuck, keep it together,” he muttered.

Just up ahead, he could see streetlamps. Proper ones, glowing a gentle orange. He went as far as he could along the grass, then climbed up, wetting his hands in the dew. He checked for cars, and seeing none, scrambled fully onto the road.

He realised he couldn’t run anymore- his leg would give out, or he wouldn’t be able to contain a howl of pain- so he limped as quickly as he could towards the next patch of shadow, over and over.

Eventually he came upon a sign: Welcome to….

It was half shadowed, but it was a map. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, eyes scanning the jumble of letters and lines and symbols. Eventually he spotted it. Hartland Road. He traced the direction in his head, making sure it was committed to memory, although he knew he wouldn’t forget it even if someone tried to beat it out of him. And then, he started walking.

He couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but he would have guessed around three or four in the morning. The pub, as he passed it, was quiet, although he still kept his distance, hugging the shadows.

He soon reached the base of the hill he knew he’d have to climb. As he started to ascend, he saw the Pet hospital in the distance. Oh god, would he have to go back there to get his finger treated? He pushed the question to the back of his mind. If he did, there wasn’t anything he could do.

A few cars drove by, as he walked. He wanted to duck into one of the smaller streets that branched off, but he had only memorised one route home, and he didn’t trust himself to improvise in the dark. So instead he squared his shoulders, stopped hunching, tried his best to look like a person walking home in his heavy jacket, not afraid, not prey. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier than he’d expected. And it worked- no cars stopped, no one seemed to give him a second glance.

He finally reached the street, the name lit up. Hartland Road. The sign was scuffed, like kids had popped the cap off their beers along its edge. It was fixed to the wall of a garden, weeds poking out through the bricks, a flyer from the council tied at eye-level to the neck of the streetlamp. Rowe took everything in as he walked. The bicycle clipped to a fence, the parked cars, the black bins left out for collection. Before, he never would have taken notice. None of it had mattered. But now, Rowe felt as if he had a new connection to the world around him. He could interact with it. He wasn’t leashed or under the watchful eye of an owner, he wasn’t crawling or blindfolded in the boot of a car. He was in pain, yes, but he was always in pain, so constantly that it hardly registered anymore. He was free.

Rowe didn’t recognise the house itself. The only times he’d ever left it, he’d been unconscious, or practically so.

But when he turned around, he saw the same view he’d had from his bedroom window every morning and night. He was home.

He remembered Kasia’s key, but it no longer fit into the front door. The lock must have been changed. Rowe hated that the alternative was to make a loud noise, at this hour, but perhaps that was the smarter way than simply slipping inside like- like Kasia. So he hesitantly pressed down on the doorbell, hitting his fist against the wood as well. He waited. He thought about how he’d never rung a doorbell before in his life.

Silence. Rowe wasn’t exactly surprised, but his heart still tightened. Suddenly the fresh air didn’t feel freeing, it felt exposed. He rang again, knocking harder, not giving up. Surely he would know it was urgent? Surely he would come down, and Rowe would get to see his face again?

Faintly, he heard the creaking of the stairs. “I-I-It’s me!” he said, hushed. “It’s me, I…”

His words died as the door slowly opened. Half a face, an eye framed by blond curls peered out, full of apprehension. In a heartbeat it landed on Rowe and widened, and the door flew open.

“Tomas,” Rowe said, loving how it felt to say his name, loving him, loving everything. “I’m back, I, I’m back, I’m back.”

Tomas raised a hand over his mouth, and for once he was the one shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god.”

And then he was reaching both arms out for Rowe with a sob. Rowe threw the horrible jacket to the ground and fell into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on tight. He couldn’t have known whose knees failed first, but suddenly they had collapsed on the floor, clinging onto each other, not leaving a shred of space between as they both cried. Soaked in the orange light that pooled through the still-open front door.

[showtoonzfan]

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE

When it comes to the musical “Dear Evan Hansen”, I GUESS I have a huge unpopular opinion when it comes to Evan and Jared. If you know the musical’s fandom, it won’t be a surprise to know that most people have grown to heavily dislike Evan as a character for the events that ensued, especially during the second act, when he argues with his mom, Jared, and Alana. So what’s my unpopular opinion? Well, while I 100% understand folks being pissed at Evan for how he acts, no one ever seems to admit how JARED isn’t the best character either.

Now don’t her me wrong, I fucking LOVE Jared. He’s my favorite character in the whole show, and Will Roland as him is chefs kiss. However, whenever I see people just giving Evan ALLLL of the blame, it honestly grinds my gears, because people seem to act like Jared was some saint when he clearly wasn’t. In the beginning of the show, Jared is introduced as some cocky bully sleaze ball. He’s confident, but mean. He doesn’t care about Evan, not really seeing him as a real friend, as he constantly pokes fun at him, only ACTING like they’re friends for his benefit when it comes to their parents. He’s narcissistic, an asshole, and overall not a really good kid, even poking fun at Conner and not really caring when he committed suicide, and only really helping Evan out with the emails for the money.

Now before people come at me, it of course IS important to bring up Jared’s character, and what the show was trying to get across with him. Through a few dialogue and amazing body language, the show presents that while Jared isn’t the best guy, deep down he’s a wimp. He seems to honestly not have much friends, and once he starts helping Evan out, he slowly begins to genuinely enjoy himself, wanting to be including and help out with an important cause.

HOWEVER, that doesn’t excuse how he acted during the beginning of the show. Even if Jared had a change of heart midway the musical and GENUINELY wanted to help, he did nothing but prove to Evan that he didn’t give a shit about him OR Connor. That’s why during the scene where Evan snaps at him, even if he’s in the WRONG, I completely understand him there. Sure, the scene with how he treated Alana was bad, but when it comes to Jared, I’m sorry, I would have said the same thing......minus the whole “go tell everyone you helped someone who lied about a kid killing themselves” thing. We all know that Evan slipped down a horrible drain and is the BIGGER issue, I am in no means saying Jared is worse than what Evan DID, but I AM saying Jared ain’t good either, as least from what we’ve seen. I say that because when the characters are introduced for the first time, Evan at the very LEAST is a kid who had morality, he was nervous, insecure, had major anxiety, and tried to fit in but failed. Jared, was simply just a jerkoff who didn’t really care about anyone else, so obviously if you compared the two, Evan is still BAD, but so is Jared in my eyes.

So...when it comes to what Evan did, yeah, no surprise, it was downright horrible, but thing is, I’m NOT COMPARING both characters to see which is worse, I’m mainly just trying to say that I wish people would stop acting like Jared was innocent simply because he was against what Evan was doing and had a change of heart midway. Honestly, when it comes to the musical, I feel like Jared was handled poorly, or at least there wasn’t enough TIME to fully flesh him out for me to believe that what he was feeling was genuine. If we had more scenes of him coming to grips with how WRONG everything was, as well as how he begins to see Evan as a genuine friend, THEN the musical would improve on his part, and the relationship. I mean hell, Jared literally DISAPPEARS from the narrative after his fight with Evan, we’re never even told if the two made up, same with Alana. I’m just saying that if I ever came across someone like Jared in real life, I would stay away from them, or at least wait until they get their shit together. He literally reminds me of that one bully that bullies you but at the same time acts like you’re friends, when you’re really not. And again, I hate to say all of this because I LOVE Jared, but he’s just not really......a good person. I feel like any adult should know that. And don’t get me wrong, Evan SUCKS for what he did, they’re BOTH bad, key words.....BOTH, because I don’t think the fandom understands that. I of course also know they’re YOUNG, which is something this fandom ALSO needs to know, but I’m not excusing their actions, hence why I’m making this post to say this. If you’re going to jab at Evan for what he did, fine, but at least know that Jared isn’t the best either. It’s not a competition, it’s just coming to grips with how they’re BOTH wrong in their OWN ways.