#his friend and I had to explain to him that AVERAGE CONSUMERS do not know the difference nor do they care

[quite-actually-a-nacho]

RANT INCOMING (TW: mentions of queerphobia, transphobia, racism) Gossiping about shit my boss says.

complaining about my boss is cathartic because it’s wild actually dealing with a super conservative dumbass conspiracy dude in person in an area where I don’t often bump into such people. the funniest thing in the world is him embellishing stuff he insists happens to him. like, for sure it’s embellishing and he won’t say what really happened because it makes him look like the raging asshole he is.

says his queer friends/people online get sooooo mad at him assuming their pronouns. I told him most people just correct people when they first meet, because we know people assume first and it doesn’t make them evil, and then we all move on. aside from him definitely watching ragebait, without a doubt I have a feeling he isn’t just “assuming their pronouns” for the first time and is actually deadnaming and/or misgendering people to their faces after learning, and gets upset when they get mad because he doesn’t take transitioning seriously in the first place.

he constantly makes it a point to misgender my cousin, he misgenders his “friends”—he recognizes the fact they did transition, but calls them by their deadnames whenever he mentions them. he insists that he “doesn’t care how you identify” then immediately follows it up with reasons why he cares a lot and why you’re crazy. he comes up with the most stupid reasons as to why people transition without asking anyone why they actually did, like saying they basically went off the deep end and just decided to become trans. I said these friends realized who they were late in life. he says they look terrible in makeup and dresses. first of all it obviously isn’t their job to be ‘passing’ for your satisfaction, but also, they transitioned late in life you fucking pillock. you expect them to pass instantly?

just the other day he was miraculously able to make a connection from a woman incorrectly calling our classic arcade games “retro”, to trans people using “wrong” labels they force everyone else to use. had nothing to do with trans people, managed to bring up trans people—yet WE’RE the ones making everything about trans people and some “agenda”.

said all lesbians choose to love women because they weren’t given enough attention by men or had too many failed relationships with men. said asexual & aromantic people choose to be that way because they saw bad examples of relationships growing up. said all trans people are severely traumatized, or—here’s a good one, he said one of his friends (before she transitioned) hung out with a group of gay men once and suddenly decided she was gay, and then dressed up in her mother’s clothes once and suddenly decided she’s trans. I had to try not to laugh, it was fucking ridiculous. I told him she was likely living a lie for the past forty years and was having a new journey, he mocked what I said about her journey a few days later. do you even LIKE your friends? he seems really fucking spiteful about some of the people he calls friends.

he is a fearmonger. uses his conservative non-white friends as mouthpieces for generalizing communities/movements like BLM. 100% believed the “eating the pets” thing Trump said, claims he has proof, never tried pointing me to said proof probably because it’s on some obscure racist conspiracy forum or Facebook group full of “truth seekers” he knows no one would take seriously. his hate isn’t just contained to demonizing non-white immigrants, it’s also everyone that doesn’t speak good English. but mostly it’s the non-white immigrants. thinks there’s hundreds of criminals sneaking through the U.S. borders every year. has the self-awareness of a brick—says people come to our country to escape their previous living situations, only to be racist about them actually coming here.

he thinks he’s a good person because he’s selfless, and in many ways he is selfless and kind. but he sees in black & white thinking, his nature is much more nuanced than he thinks it is. he is fundamentally a miserable, bad person who does good things at times. people can be good and bad. but he has a lot of bad. he would be slightly less miserable if he cared to respect people, especially those he calls “friends”. in his mind he probably thinks he’s still friends with these people out of “pity”, when I think it’s the reverse. it is baffling to me how nobody has dropped his ass, please drop him you deserve better.

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

The Road Ahead || Qin Shi Huang

A/n: my first time writing for this character. This took me a while and I went as far as connecting to my RoR soulmate universe via Yue-Lao, so please enjoy.

Warning(s): implied death, arrogant reader, one-sided opinions, female reader, soulmates, alcohol, make-out, brief oral (f), human and god relationship, rough sex, intense orgasms, mirror-touch synesthesia, and Qi.

No Minors Allowed!!

Humans are savage. Their souls are black and twisted, consuming even those who fight to right their wrongs. It irritates you to see them annihilate themselves with no care for their lives or the ones around them. So it is no surprise that like your fellow Gods and Goddesses, you desire to see them eliminated.

On the eve of Ragnarok, you wait with bated breath as the Gods lay waste to the humans. It isn't until the 3rd match that the life of a God is wiped out, that of the Sea Tyrant, Poseidon. 

You are horrified by his defeat, not certain how a human could win against him. It certainly shows how serious humanity is about living, an action you are both confused by and in awe of.

Why do they fight so hard? 

As you contemplate the question, you carry an ornate terracotta pitcher of wine to the VIP area, as instructed by the senior God of your pantheon as a means to share their condolences to Zeus for his loss. A familiar brute with blond hair, waiting outside, sees you upon drawing near.   

    

"It has been a while," Ares states with a sad smile. 

Too long. You nod briefly. Being close to the Gods and Goddesses of the Greek pantheon has its benefits. One of which is not being immediately struck down for simply speaking to them. 

"You have my condolences, Ares," you utter. "I can not fathom your pain and anger."

He hums. 

"Thank you, my friend."

Trailing his teary eyes down your figure, he raises a curious brow. 

"What is that around your ankles?" 

You hum in question, then glance down to see what he is referring to. Tied around them is a red cord that's length stretches down the hall from which you came.

"How– I must have not noticed it."

Raising a leg, you reach down to remove the cord but it passes through your fingers as if it is intangible. Your eyes widen in concern. 

"It won't come off."

Ares suddenly gasps, gray eyes widening.  

"I know what that is. A God has tethered you."

His face turns red, an action that concerns you.

"It means that you are the soulmate to someone," he explains. "I have only recently learned about this, but a God is responsible for it."

"Why in the hell would someone want to do that?" You ask in shock. 

It makes no sense. There is no reason to pair you with another, considering the fact you are a Goddess. Soulmates are a human concept. Now you have to waste your time figuring out how to remove the cord. An air of annoyance surrounds you. 

This is unbelievable. 

"Are you not going to see who the other end is tied to?" Ares asks suddenly. 

No. Why would you?

"I am not interested," you state. "But I am curious as to who did this to me."

After a moment of deliberating, you groan. 

"Please forgive me for my rudeness, Ares. I must get to the bottom of this."

Giving him a bow, you pace back down the hall before he can stop you. You aren't certain who can shed some light on this mistake, but you imagine the Valkyries might know something, wherever they are. 

You can't promise to be civil with whoever put this damned cord on you. 

Their reasoning had better be a good one.

As far as you know, the Valkyries are partnered with the humans partaking in Ragnarok. One of them has to know about the tether. Near the waiting rooms on humanity's side, you notice someone in the hall, a man of average stature with dark hair that has a single red streak in it. At first, you think nothing of him, but after you witness him lift his foot as though he has lost something, you realize that he is wearing a blindfold. 

"Do you need help?" You ask in curiosity, approaching him.

You have never seen him before, though admittedly, he is pleasant to look at with a handsome face inked with a centipede on his right cheek. An elaborate robe hangs off his broad shoulders, giving you a decent view of his muscular body. He scratches his head with a set of golden nail guards on his right hand and hums.

"Yěxǔ (perhaps)."

You raise a brow.

"I don't–"

Cutting in, he lifts his right hand and aims his pointer and index fingers at you, then directs them down.

"I was pursuing this cord," he states.

Cord? You glance down to see a familiar cord materialize around his ankles. Following the length of it, you notice in horror that he is connected to you.

Oh shit. 

"It's you. I am tethered to you."

The man grins. 

"The road ahead has led me to you."

Your face turns red. What nonsense is this? 

"It is the work of a God. And with any sense we should have it removed."

"You would throw away a blessing from a God?" The dark-haired man asks.

You frown. It is not a blessing.

"We are merely someone's toy."

The man grins. 

"You are fortunate, my rambunctious Goddess. Because you're in the presence of an Emperor and I will aid you in whatever way I can to see it removed."

Your face heats up again. What is with this man? He speaks as if he is–

He…he is a human.

The weight of the situation smacks you in the face like a bucket of ice water. Of course, he is a human. 

"How can this be? What kind of sick joke is this?" You ask in disbelief. 

Why a human soul? It made no sense to you. 

This has to be the dumbest notion I have ever seen. As if I would fall in love with a human. An arrogant one at that.

You sigh in annoyance.

"What is your name?"

Balling his fist in front of his chest, he encircles it with his other hand and bows his head.

"Qin Shi Huang, the first Emperor of China. Wǒ de róngxìng (it's a pleasure)."

You offer him your name and title in exchange, watching him grin in response.

"You are paired with a Valkyrie, are you not?" You ask. "Do you know where she might be?"

Qin nods.

"Perhaps my waiting room. But I have no idea where that might be."

You wonder if he had walked away not realizing that he was in his room. It must be hard to see with that blindfold over his eyes. 

"Let's just retrace your steps."

"Very well," Qin agrees.

He turns and saunters down the hall, giving you a view of his back. There is another centipede tattooed on him, running down the length of his backbone and vanishing in his robes. You have the urge to reach out and trace it with your fingertip and see where it goes, but you ignore it and follow close to the former emperor. 

Further down the corridor, you notice a massive hole damaging the ornate wall. It appears recent, but the plaster and smoke are clear from the air. How strange.

How did this happen?

Qin veers closer and steps through the hole to the other side.

"What are you doing?" You ask in disbelief. 

"Retracing my steps," he answers. 

Your eyes widen. Did he make this hole? Is he unhinged? 

Following him through the debris into another corridor with your hand over the pitcher, you notice a hole in the opposite wall too.

"Are you serious? Look at all this damage," you chastise him. 

Why are humans like this? Destructive and careless. 

"The road is where I lead," Qin states. 

You honestly have no idea what that means. With an uneasy breath, you allow him to lead you into a vacant room with a plush couch and a bed. It seems as though he tore through this room too. 

Why did he not just use the door?  

Deviating from the path of destruction, Qin sits on the couch and brings his legs onto the seat, crossing them. 

"This will do," he points out to himself. "Would you bring me that alcohol you are toting around? I'm parched."

Does he smell the wine?

"It isn't for you. I was to deliver this pitcher to Lord Zeus as a–"

"Come here," the human interrupts as he motions you closer. 

The nerve of him, Emperor or not. You narrow your eyes in irritation, but to humble him, you take a seat beside him. Between the cushion, you notice a tablet used to spectate the fights.

"The next round should be starting soon," you utter, eager to see who the Gods have chosen to avenge Lord Poseidon. 

Sliding out the tablet, you groan as Qin takes the terracotta pitcher from you. He clearly doesn't listen. You watch in annoyance as he lifts the ladle attached to the inside and takes a drink.

"Hǎo (nice)! This wine is delicious."

No kidding. 

"It was made special by the divinities in my pantheon," you mention.

"They have my gratitude," Qin states. 

It wasn't made for him. You open your mouth to chastise him again, but the tablet in your hand beeps as it comes on, showing the arena. It appears to be rebuilt in a modern city style that you have never seen before.

"Still not my turn, it seems," Qin mentions. "I grow tired of waiting."

You grin. 

"Whoever you are paired with will be no doubt strong."

"Moumantai (not to worry), I am strong too," he counters. 

And delusional. 

How does he expect to fight with a blindfold over his eyes? You raise your hand and wave it in front of his face, making him grin. 

"I can see you," Qin states.

"Then what is the reason for the blindfold?" You ask. 

The man grins and raises a finger to his lips. You tighten your jaw. 

"Keep your secrets, former Emperor. I don't care."

"Share a drink with me and I will tell you," Qin suggests. 

Didn't he hear you? Watching him set the pitcher in his lap, he dips the ladle into it and offers you a drink. To humble him, you ease closer, however, before you can reach out and take it, he gently grasps your chin and slants back your head with the ladle to your lips. 

The tart yet sweet red wine quickly pours into your mouth, but you are too far enamored in the gorgeous smile of Qin Shin Huang to swallow. And to your horror, the wine overflows and leaks down your chin onto his hand. 

Once this processes, you pull away in embarrassment, drinking it down in a rush. And to make matters worse, the emperor doesn't scold you. He merely laughs and brings his hand to his mouth to lick the wasted wine from his fingers. Your face heats up and your heart pounds against your chest in protest. What did he do to you?

 

"W-what was that? Whatever you are trying to do, you had better stop."

Qin hums.

"I was merely sharing a drink with my goddess." 

Bullshit. And I am not his. He is just a human…an incredibly attractive human, but that makes no difference. 

This has to be the work of the tether. You stand, clutching the tablet.

"We need to get this cord removed–"

"Sit," Qin orders. 

For some reason your body obeys. You don't move a muscle after that, waiting for him to react. He does so by motioning toward the tablet.

 

"I refuse to leave until I have seen the next match." 

Like a robot, you hand him the device. He takes it and grins. 

"Come closer. Watch it with me." 

You suppose he has every right to spectate. The cord isn't hurting you, though you fear whatever unwanted emotion it brings next. For the next few minutes, you sit close to Qin Shi Huang, watching the fourth round. 

As you had expected, the Greek Pantheon sent out a mighty warrior to avenge Poseidon, Hercules, the God of Fortitude. 

His opponent, however, is a man the statistic board is claiming to be an infamous murderer.

"What nonsense was that Valkyrie thinking?" You utter in disbelief, referring to Brunhilde.

"He is a fine choice," Qin claims.

You give him a look of shock. 

"Already he has withstood blows from the big guy that no human could. His understanding of the battlefield and speed make him an excellent countermeasure against his opponent," the Emperor continues. 

You sigh. This might be so, but to choose such a man as Jack the Ripper is absurd. It makes you wonder what tricks the man beside you has up his sleeves. Could it be his eyes? Does he possess something like Adam's 'Divine Reflection' or Kojiro Sasaki's 'Senju Musō'?

Lifting your arm, curiosity gets the better of you, but as your finger brushes the corner of his blindfold, he reaches up and grabs your wrist. 

"You said you would show me," you remind him. "Or am I to assume the first Emperor of China is a liar?"

He releases your wrist so that you can continue. Sinking your finger beneath the cloth, you slid it down to reveal his gorgeous, pale eyes. The centipede tattoo ends just below his right eye and each is lined in red.

"It's not a blessing or an innate ability, is it?"

"Mirror touch synesthesia," Qin answers. "If I see someone hurt then I too will receive the same injury, but inverted. It's a condition that I was born with, but I don't see it as such anymore. It is thanks to this skill that I am best suited to be a king. Because I can feel the pain of others."

You widen your eyes in shock. What a strange condition.

"That sounds unbearable."

You opt not to agree with him. His skill does suit his trade, however. A king who can empathize with his people is an effective ruler. You suppose he has that going for him at least. But to what extent?  

"Humans are still savages."

"Gods are no better," Qin states. 

Your eyes widen. He has no–

But he is right. Deities are no better. 

"We are offering you mercy," you point out. 

"By taking away the wills of man? That isn't mercy…that is control. And that notion is why we fight. So humanity can live and die as they please," Qin explains.

You have never heard it said like that. The Gods have always dictated humankind. No wonder they despise the deities.

"We never cared to ask."

Qin grins. "Because you are arrogant and afraid. And that is why we will win."

He seems so sure. You snort. 

"What is so good about being a human? We have longer lives, better lovers, and Godly powers that humans often desire." 

"Better lovers, you say," Qin repeats with a laugh. 

Is he in doubt?

"I have never met a human able to captivate me," you mention. 

While you have lusted after a few, none of them have been able to satiate your passion quite like one of your kind.

"You are not searching hard enough," Qin claims.  

As if. You snort in response. 

Raising his hand, he motions you closer. And like before, you lean in. 

"I shall show you."

Your face turns red. Is he saying that he will–

"I'll care for you like the goddess you are," Qin cuts in. His hand cups your cheek. "You have my word as an Emperor."

As appealing as this sounds, you would rather he not. But the offer you will gladly take. You are not against a fun time and this man has the charisma to lure you to the pits of Helheim with him. 

"Or fuck me like the ill-behaved woman I am." 

Qin traces his thumb over your bottom lip, then slides it into your open mouth, pressing down on your tongue. 

"How lewd you are, my Goddess."

He has no idea. Deities are often easy. A fine case in point is this moment. 

Removing his thumb from your mouth, Qin leans in to give you an open mouth kiss. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, humming as you kiss him back. The lingering taste of wine urges you to close your lips around him, sucking eagerly on his tongue until he breaks the kiss. You watch in confusion as he grabs the pitcher, tossing it from his lap; it shatters against the nearby wall, staining it red. 

Before you can berate him for wasting the offering to Zeus, he pulls you into his lap. One hand slides around your waist while the other cups your face, leading you into another heated make-out. The wine is far from your mind now, especially with the cock that is pressed into your crotch. 

Gods I want him. 

To emphasize your thought, you reach down to stroke him through his pants. The low moan that pours from his mouth gives you goosebumps. You want to hear him come undone. Burying your fingers in his dark hair, you angle your head to kiss him deeper, however, the kiss is interrupted once he stands with you. In shock, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulder and lock your legs around his waist. The amusing look on his face makes you narrow your eyes in irritation. It seems he's desperate to be the one in control. 

Taking you over to the bed, he sets you down and then reaches behind himself to untie the robes around his arms. You waste no time removing your clothes, tossing them to the side in a messy heap. Once Qin is bare, you scoot to the middle of the bed and motion for him to join you. He does so, spreading your legs to position himself over you. His hard cock slides against your outer lips and you tighten your jaw, eager for him to continue. 

Sliding into you, he bottoms out and hits your cervix in a way that makes your body tighten and your heart flutter. You pant softly. 

"Does this bring you solace, my ill-behaved lady?" Qin asks, gently thrusting his hips. 

You eagerly nod. Yes, so much so. He feels incredible, more than you counted on. You want more, so much– 

But to your annoyance, he suddenly stops. A look of amusement crosses his handsome features and you know something is wrong. It dawns on you too late that it's not control he's aiming for, it's your atonement. He gave you just enough to make you crave him, then he took it away. 

You fear that you have been too snobbish toward the former emperor. It did not cross your thoughts that he would try to discipline you.

"Don't make me beg," you demand.

It takes everything in you not to whine, especially with his cock stretching you so well.

"I don't want you to beg me," Qin states with a grin. "I want you to admit that you need me. Not because a God bound us, but because you want this."

Is he serious? You tighten your jaw. As much as you want to deny him, you do want this. You want to come undone by him. The moment you felt your body react to him, you knew this would be intense.

Do I have to?

Can he not feel how bad you want him? You were wet before he even put his cock inside you. 

Withdrawing from you, he snorts as you narrow your eyes in frustration. But instead of teasing you, he sinks between your thighs and runs his tongue over your clit. A surge of hot pleasure zips through your body, forcing your muscles to tighten in response. You moan and clutch the sheets beneath you. For a human, he isn't half bad.

Taking your clit into his mouth, Qin gently sucks on it, drawing desperate moans from you. He continues to play with you until your body tenses, eager to come undone. However, he does not allow it. 

You whine in response, giving him a wretched look as he sits up and wipes your arousal from his lips. His eyes are different than before, you note. A star pattern is in each pupil.

"Your eyes," you point out.  

Qin darts them across your body and grins.

"I wasn't completely honest about what I can do with these. In battle, this ability is most beneficial, but I can use them here too, to see your Qi flow."

"Qi flow?"

Your face heats up. What the hell is a Qi flow? 

"It is the energy in everything. The life force that every person and thing has." He pauses to run his fingers across your chest and stomach, grinning as you arch into his touch. "And I can see its flow. How stressed you are, your Qi is stagnant." 

And he wonders why. He's teasing you to no end. But you understand his meaning. 

"You are a cruel man," you utter. 

Qin snorts and grabs your right thigh, turning you on your stomach. Your back arches in response as he trails his fingers down your spine; the guards tickle your skin on the way down. If you weren't so turned on by his teasing, you would have choked him out.

Resting his hands on your hips, he slides his cock into you again, humming as you sigh in relief.

Every quick and rough thrust rocks your body, stimulating your clit as the mattress rubs against it. Soft moans pour from your mouth as your muscles tighten. To get a better feel, you arch your ass against him.

Why does he feel this good? A mere mortal driving you to tears as he aims to fuck you senseless. And with the tension in your stomach growing quickly, you know you won't last. 

Will he even let you cum this time?

"Please," you utter. "I need this…I need you."

You are honest. You don't want him to stop; you need him to let you come undone. The tension is driving you insane.

"Shi Huang, please."

Qin does not offer an assuring word, however, his fingers clutch your hips as he thrusts into you harder than before. It feels like he's knocking the breath from you. Half-assed moans and broken sentences escape you as the surges of pleasure begin to increase. You aren't sure, in the end, if he utters something in old Chinese due to the ringing in your ears, but the aspect alone tips you over the edge.

Your body tenses up as an intense orgasm washes over you, forcing your walls to flutter around him and your eyes to roll back in bliss. An embarrassing trail of saliva leaks onto the mattress from the corner of your mouth as your brain seems to short-circuit from the build-up.

You've never felt this way before, satisfied by a human. Why can't it last? The feeling of bliss slowly ebbs away, but the former emperor is not at all done. His thrusts are just as rough as before, rocking your exhausted body. 

He gave you what you needed, there was no reason not to do the same for him.

You arch your hips again, catching out of the corner of your eye as two of the finger guards he wears are tossed aside. A hand slides beneath your thighs and slowly a finger circles your clit.

"W-wait," you whine in protest. 

You are still rather sensitive from the orgasm, but it isn't too intense to take satisfaction in.  Small shocks of pleasure and pain consume you. A film of sweat covers your brow as you press your face into the mattress. It feels as though your body is on fire; the only comfort comes from the cool bite of the nail guards on Qin's left hand as he presses them into your hips. 

Hearing him moan in pleasure, his fingers slip from your clit as he pulls his cock from your sore walls. A rush of cum hits your upper thighs a moment later, but you don't mind. Your weight presses down onto the mattress and you lie there for a moment to catch your breath, basking in the cool air as it consumes you. 

Once you are content, you sit up on your shaking legs, turning to face Qin. He looks worse off than you. His short bangs are stuck to his forehead and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. You reach up and slide his hair back, resting your palm against his cheek.

"Why do you look more wrecked than I feel?" You ask with a snort. 

"My condition," Qin answers. He leans his cheek against your hand. "Moumantai (not to worry), I am fine."

His condition? Mirror touch synaesthesia? You do not understand.  

"I thought it only hurt you if someone was wounded."

"It ascended long ago to the point where extreme sentiments affect me, generally unfavorable sentiments. This is a shock," Qin explains. 

Your eyes widen. Is he suggesting that you are the one who–

"Are you hurt?"

Qin snorts.

"Bù (no). It feels pleasant. A surge of lightning burst through me."

How strange. You sigh. So long as he isn't hurt. This look, however, is good on him. Qin gently removes your hand from his face and scoots to the edge of the bed. You crawl up behind him, running your finger down his spine, tracing the tattoo on his back. 

"You know, for a human, you are quite divine."

Qin laughs. 

Much to your displeasure, he stands and faces you, eyes gleaming with the same ability he used to see your flow of Qi.

"I have decided to claim you as my empress," he responds, lifting his hand toward you. 

Your face heats up. Is he serious? 

"I am not a mere human," you argue in response. "You can not just lay claim to me."

No more than he already had.  

Besides, you have no idea why you were tethered to him. It certainly wasn't for you to become an empress. You are beyond those titles. And he should be too, seeing as he is not alive anymore. 

"When I win my battle, will you accept me as a soulmate and your king?" Qin asks. 

You tighten your jaw. Is there any chance for him to win? You don't know who his opponent will be, but you are certain the Gods on the list are strong. 

Thinking back on what he had said earlier, you hum. The will to live and die however humankind desires is much stronger than you can comprehend. If Qin Shi Huang is strong enough to take on a God then perhaps the humans have a good chance to win.

Perhaps I am wrong. 

Reaching for his finger guards, which were tossed onto the bed near the top, you hand them to him. 

"Should you come out first, then I will consider it."

Qin grins. 

"Hao (nice)! Come find me after the match."

You sigh. He has your blessing.  

–

Lord Hades is dead?

You can't believe it. Qin beat him. With haste, you walk toward the infirmary, ignoring curious looks from your fellow Gods and Goddesses. It takes some convincing to see him, but once you point out the red cord, the healers let you inside. It's strange but perhaps they do not see you as a threat to him. 

Or perhaps he knew that you would accept him.

Qin is barely alive, missing his left arm. There are various lacerations across his body, but somehow he is breathing. The healers advise you that he needs assistance, so you rush to his side and take his remaining hand as they prep his bed. He's going to be in their care for a while. 

"I am here," you assure him.

Qin grins weakly and grips your hand.

"Hǎo (nice)!"

You snort. This human is a pain.

It could very well be the tether controlling me…but I will wait here as long as I need to.

"Rest, my king." 

[kingshimura4872]

Mutt

Happy Friday, chitlins.

Completely forgot what day it was, but worry not, for I have more garbage for you to consume at your leisure.

Paring - (Kinda-ish) Bakugou Katsuki Bakugou x GN! Reader

Word count - 5.2K

Warnings - Arguing and strong language a little bit all throughout the story, bakugou learning, cursing, dark themes, derogatory slander, if I missed smth big lemme know :]

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His blood ran cold just at the sight of you. Now here you were, in front of him. The same uniform as he. A glare colder than he remembered. His heart ached at the memory of what he used to do to you. What he put you through. The things he said, the things he did. His skin paled the closer you got. Everyone was watching.

   “You seem less than enthused that I’m here.” Your voice sent knives into his spine as his hands were beginning to become clammy. They clenched in his pant pockets as he nervously swallowed.

   “I…” No words came to his mind, leaving him speechless. Mouth every so slightly agape. 

   “Speechless, I see.” An empty smirk spread across your features as you once again closed the distance. He unconsciously stepped back stiffly, sending shock and gasps through the audience of his fellow classmates. Bakugou knew the new transfer student? 

   “(Y/N)?” A new member joined the conversation as you effortlessly glanced away from the startled blonde.

   “Ah. Midoriya.” A more genuine smile replaced the last as a familiar mop of green hair made its way to the front of the group.

   “I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.” He spoke, clearly shocked at your presence. 

   “Well, start expecting to see it every day. I'm real. I'm here.”

You took another careful glance at the other boy, seeing him still staring with that stupid dumbfounded look on his face. Your own twisted in annoyance.

   “Since when did Bakugou stop talking all the time? Thought that was all he knew how to do.” You scoffed.

   “U-Uhm, maybe now’s not the time for that.” Midoriya laughed nervously, coming up to you and placing a gentle hand on your arm. Your posture stiffed a little at the sudden touch and you looked away, letting out a sharp sigh. “Whatever.”

The greenette let out his own sigh, his of relief, leading you away from Bakugou slowly.

   “Where’s your dorm? I’m sure you haven’t unpacked completely, so why don’t I help you out? It’d be a nice chance to catch up.” His tone had lightened substantially and you couldn’t help but follow as you nodded and lead him off.

   “Who was that, dude?” Kirishima, a friend of Bakugou's, asked suddenly once you were out of ear shot. He looked over to the still startled blonde, who was now staring down at the floor. He strutted over to him, laying a calming hand on Bakugou’s upper back, tilting his head closer.

Bakugou was silent for a moment. Then he opened his mouth, finally finding the words he’d been needing to say for so long.

   “Someone I need to apologize to. Badly.”

_________________________________

   “So you’re just, like…A dog hybrid?”

   “Well if we’re specific, my ‘breed’ so to speak is very adjacent to the Canis lupus occidentalis. They’re more commonly known as northwestern wolves or Makenzie Valley wolves.” You explained. You decided to sit down with a specific group of people during lunch, and even with the selection, more people couldn’t help but flock to you to learn about you. You had big wolf-like ears and a big bushy tail that you’d learned to make appear and disappear at will. You often found it more comfortable to let them out, but you knew when to make them go away and it looked as if you were completely human. 

   “So what do the wolves themselves look like? If you’re okay with a little history lesson.” 

   “I don’t mind at all, Sero.” You smiled. “Northwestern wolves are one of the largest subspecies of wolves. In British Columbia, Canada, five adult females averaged forty-two point five kilos or ninety-three point six pounds with a range of thirty-eight point six to forty-five point four kilos or eighty-five to a hundred pounds and ten adult males averaged fifty-one point seven kilos or a hundred and twelve point two pounds with a range of forty-seven point six to sixty-one point two kilos or a hundred and five to a hundred and thirty-five pounds, with a weight range for all adults of thirty-eight point six to sixty-one point two kilos or eighty-five to a hundred and thirty-five pounds. In Yellowstone National Park, adult females were averaged at about forty kilos or ninety pounds and adult males average about fifty kilos or a hundred and ten pounds, with a mean adult body mass in winter of forty-six point four kilos or around a hundred and two pounds. More recent studies have reported the average range of height and weight in the north-west of the United States, both sexes were between sixty-eight and ninety-one and a half centimeters or twenty-six point eight and thirty-six inches tall at the shoulder. Here the weight of males was reported at between forty-five and seventy-two kilos or ninety-nine to one hundred and fifty-nine pounds, while the females were reported at thirty-six to sixty kilos or seventy-nine to one hundred and thirty-two pounds. The Northwestern wolf is also one of the longest wolf subspecies as its length usually ranges from five to six feet or one hundred and fifty-two to one hundred and eighty-three centimeters, and it can also reach as long as seven feet or two hundred and thirteen centimeters.” You began, pulling out a small notebook to show everyone. It felt scripted, but it was only because you’d memorized every detail there was to know. It was after all a part of you. Why wouldn’t you want to know everything about yourself? “The Northwestern wolf is native to the arctic tundra regions of northern Alberta, Northwest Territories, Yukon Territory, Nunavut and Alaska where it prefers cold climates and open meadows for hunting. It is easily distinguished from other North American wolves due to its longer muzzle and larger body size, however some individuals may also exhibit white fur coats which helps them blend into snow-covered landscapes during winter months. Its diet primarily consists of large ungulates such as caribou or moose but can also include smaller prey like beavers or hares depending on availability. Its fur color can vary from light gray to black, but commonly exhibits shades of brown and white. The coat texture is thick, with an undercoat designed for insulation in colder climates. I personally have a much darker coat when I need to change.” You added in. “It makes me a lot harder to find in the shadows and that personally is a bonus for me.” A small giggle escaped you as you flipped a few pages throughout your explanation. They were soaking in everything you were telling them and it felt amazing. They were actually interested in what you had to say. 

   “What about partnerships?” Someone piped up.

   “Hm? What do you mean?”

   “Well, I mean - Oh, I’m Kaminari by the way - but, I think I read somewhere that some canines do the whole mate for life thing. Does that track to you? Or is it just the actual animal?”

You looked down at your notebook, silently gulping.

   “Uhh, w-well…” You stuttered. “Uh, I’m not entirely sure!”

   “Huh?” This came from multiple people this time.

   “Well, I’ve never found the one if you will, so I’m not sure. I’ve never really been one for dating, so I never bothered with it, so I can’t really give you an explanation on that one.” You laughed stiffly, shifting in your chair. 

Everyone seemed satisfied with your answer and backed off of it, so you smiled and let it go.

   “Uhm, excuse me, (Y/N)?”

   “Oh, what’s up, Midoriya?” You hummed, turning your body to full face the boy.

   “Would you mind if I bugged you later about your quirk? It feels like we haven’t seen each other in so long, I wanna update my notebook if it’s okay with you.” He outlined. You smiled once again and nodded eagerly.

   “Of course, you can! I’d love to compare the notes.”

He gleamed, spewing thanks for the rest of lunch.

All the while, Bakugou sat a few seats away, his eyes glued to you. He couldn’t believe it was really you. He couldn’t believe it.

________________________

“(L/N), you’ll be paired up with Bakugou, Kirishima, and Kaminari in group five. And that should be all your groups. Is anyone missing a partner group?” 

Aizawa stood in front of your class, explaining how today’s training session would work. Today was a rescue and recon with a neighboring class. Everyone shook their heads, all having their respective groups and Aizawa nodded, turning his back.

   “Alright then, there are five groups of ‘civilians’ all trapped within different kinds of issues. One of you from each group has a card with the patch of land that your neighboring classmates are in. You have twenty minutes to locate and retrieve every member as well as bring them back here to the starting area safely.” He continued, pulling out a stopwatch as everyone got into starting positions. 

   “And….Go.” And with that, everyone took off down the hill, into the large expanse of land. There were different terrains, showing that the area itself was most likely man made. There were woods, lakes, mountains, a small area of broken buildings and more. Your group took off northwest in the direction of a deep patch of forest. You were faster than most, your feet carrying you effortlessly through deep rich trees, while the others struggled to keep up.

After a few minutes of running, you all stopped by a fallen tree to talk strategy. 

   “So what should we do once we find them?” Kirishima asked.

   “Well my immediate response would be to let me carry the majority of the casualties. I can carry about five people at a time in my canine form so that will definitely make for light work. It all depends on how many there are.”

   “Oh, I know! We can make a big sled for everyone who doesn’t fit and we’d make it back in no time!” Kaminari beamed.

   “Yeah but…How would we make that sled?” You laughed, glancing around.

   “I have rope in my rescue bag and Kirishima is definitely strong enough to break off a big piece of tree.” 

You looked at each other, Kirishima glancing at Bakugou, who was being uncharacteristically silent.

   “You okay, man? We could really use your input here.”

   “I’m fine. Just do whatever, I’ll go scout to see if we can find the casualties.” The blonde huffed, climbing over the fallen tree and looking around. You rolled your eyes, looking into your rescue bag.

   “If we can make that sled people safe in the next ten minutes, we can still make it back in time.” You hummed, pulling out some electric tape. “Riot, you think you can make a big enough board flat and smooth?” You questioned. Kirishima lifted an arm, rolling his shoulder and holding his bicep with his other hand.

   “Won’t know until we try.”

“Wow, six minutes, that’s really good. Good job, guys.” You smiled, tugging on the rope to make sure it was secure. “Dynamight, did you find which direction we need to go?” The question came out a little impatient, but you did your best to remain civil. You may not have liked the bastard but it didn’t mean you couldn’t work with him to pass this training course.

   “North-Northeast about forty degrees.” He sighed, leaning against the fallen tree. It had become the official landmark for the rest of this training session. 

   “Good. Boys, hop on. I’ll make it there faster if I know none of you are falling behind.” You added, cracking your neck and knuckles.

   “Ooh, ooh! (Y/N)! (Y/N)! Can I ride on top of you?!” Kaminari shouted, getting a bit flustered when you and Kirishima began laughing. “You know I didn’t mean it like that!”

   “It’s fine, it’s fine. You better know how to grip hard though. I’m faster than you think.” You laughed, squatting down to stretch a little more. Been a hot minute since I did this now that I think about it. You thought to yourself. “Riot, you hope the rope. It may be sturdy now, but it’s better safe than sorry.”

   “Will do. Kaminari was giddy as the other two boys climbed on your makeshift sled. You leaned forward in your squat, digging your shoes into the dirt and placing your palms flat on the ground. You took a deep breath, black smoke beginning to envelope you while the other watched in awe. In a moment’s flash, there you stood, covered in fur and looking like a real wild wolf. You towered over the boys, body reaching their heads as you knelt down a bit for Kaminari to climb up. You barked to get his attention, as he was stunned still. It was deep, loud. More assertive than Bakugou remembered. You were bigger than he remembered you being. You were stronger now. 

Kaminari giddily climbed up onto you, gripping two big patches of fur on your shoulder blades tiger after another bark. Once everyone was prepared you leaned down, digging your claws into the dirt and charging forward. Kaminari and Kirishima almost fell off from the sudden change of pace, yelling and laughing a bit.

   “This is so freaking cool!!” Kaminari cried, laughing. He looked like a child seeing his idol for the first time in person as you sniffed the air for scents. You smelled an increase in scents, meaning you were close. You took a sharp left turn, jumping over a rock and stopping dead in your tracks when you saw a small group of people. Obviously they weren’t actually injured, but they had dirt on them and some of their clothes were ripped. You assumed they wanted to go for realism.

You barked for everyone to get off and get to work securing the ‘civilians’. Kaminari worked on counting heads and making sure everyone was secure on the sled while Kirishima and Bakugou were on carrying duty. It took a total of five minutes to get everyone ready to move, some laughing with their friends and some looking at you in awe.

   “You’re that new 1-A transfer right? My name is Pony!” One of the girls grinned, running her fingers through your coat. You gave a sharp nod, turning your snout back to see if everyone was prepared. 

   “I don’t think we can fit everyone on the sled, (Y/N).” Kirishima sighed, looking to see there were two people left in the rescue group. There were a total of seven people in the group and with your own group added, it totaled ten bodies. You yourself were excluded, as you were the one doing the carrying, but with Bakugou and Kirishima on the sled, you could only fit seven people safely on the sled. You nodded and kneeled down, barking three times.

   “Are you sure you can fit the rest?” Kaminari asked, a little worried now. You once again nodded your head, nudging his side for him to guide the last two rescues on. “Alright, we trust you.”

Kaminari helped the other two up, staying in front so he could keep the strongest grip while Pony and another 1-B student sat behind him, Pony wrapped her arms around his waist and the other student did the same with her as you stood up with ease. 

   “When were you able to do that?” Bakugou muttered to himself under his breath. 

You gave everyone another bark and they all tightened their grip as you took off back to the starting area. You made it back with your teacher’s scent and when you did make it back, you were congratulated on being the first group back. 

   “Sixteen minutes, good job. I see you made a rescue item by yourselves. Smart.” He drummed, a small smile on his tired face. Everyone dismounted from their positions and another small cloud of black smoke turned you back to your normal self. You decided to relax and let your demi features stay out in the open to air out. 

   “All we need to do is wait for the rest of the groups to return, so relax. You’ve earned it.” 

He left all of you to chill out by a large rock wall as he made his way back to the front of the starting area.

   “That was so cool, (Y/N), You’re really something!” Kaminari chimed, sitting down right beside you. You smiled and tapped his nose with your tail, which he quickly took in his hands to fiddle with.

   “It was nothing. I’ve trained for this for years. I’m just glad I was able to transfer so late. Switching high schools in the middle of your second year isn’t exactly an easy feat.”

   “Speaking of which, how were you able to transfer so late?” Kirishima pondered, taking a spot at your other side. You shrugged.

   “Not really sure. I put in my admission papers and I went through the entrance exams like everyone else, but I never got the paper telling me I got in. So I kinda just cut my losses and went to my second choice school that was closer to my home. Went through my entire first year and half of my second just living my life. But there was one day where I went to my second period and my teacher randomly started letting everyone congratulate me on being admitted to U.A. It was a shock to me, but I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let it slip out of my hands, so we had a big goodbye party with a couple of my other classes and next thing you know I’m given a uniform and a schedule.” You explained, looking up at the clear midday sky. It was a beautiful blue. 

   “Well then, how’s your new school in comparison. It’s been a couple weeks already. Have you been able to adjust?” Kaminari piped up.

   “Eh, I don’t wanna compare schools, they’re both awesome. I made some really good friends in that school and I’ve made some really good friends in this school. It was actually pretty easy to adjust with awesome guys like you two with me.”

The boys gushed and laughed with you for the rest of the training period, talking about nothing in particular and making random jokes. 

__________________________

“You’re joking, right?” Your words were like boiling venom to Bakugou. He stood in front of you in the common room, fists clenched in tight balls as he bit the inside of his lip.

   “..No.”

   “Since when do you ‘Just wanna talk’?” You scoffed, putting air quotations up. He could feel his ears getting hot with embarrassment. He was asking you to go outside with him to have a short chat, only almost everyone in the class was in the common area as well. Watching silently.

   “Since now. Can we just…Go to the hall or something?” He asked again quietly. You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the couch.

   “Why?”

   “It’s…Private.”   “Then why am I the one that has to go with you?”

   “It’s important.”

   “So you’ve said. I still have no fucking reason to believe you.” You spat. He looked down at his shoes, unable to speak again.

   “Maybe you should just go with him.” Midoriya whispered to you from on the couch, gently putting his hand on your arm. You glanced back at him. “Just for a moment? I doubt he’ll physically keep you from leaving. You can always just walk away if you don’t wanna talk anymore.” He reasoned, his ever calming smile getting to you. You were quiet yourself for a moment.

   “Ugh! Fine. You get five minutes max. Lead the way.” You barked, dropping your head back in annoyance and sticking your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. Bakugou silently nodded and walked to the front door that led to the hallway.

   “I’ll be back, I guess.” You muttered, following hesitantly.

Once the two of you left, Sero spoke up.

   “What’s up with those two? Do they got history or somethin’?”

Midoriya sighed, looking at the closed door. “You could say that. (Y/N) was around during a time where Kacchan was less…agreeable. I suppose the tension didn’t ease when we parted ways.” He spoke softly. The others took in that information, not asking anything more. They understood that it was both a personal and touchy subject, so they didn’t push. 

You followed Bakugou down the hallway outside into a small benched area. It had a few flower bushes with concrete pavers snuggled into the grass. A large circle with a few paths in different directions sat under your feet as he led you closer to the center. In front of you stood a solid granite garden fountain. It had two lifted tiers with a larger depression at the bottom to hold the water spewing off the upper levels. It stood proudly at around six feet in height while the largest part of it was almost eight feet wide. It was filled with clear cool water, most likely cleaned daily or weekly. The fountain was in pristine condition, sitting in a quatrefoil edition, the natural granite displayed many beautiful patterns in itself. 

Bakugou finally stopped walking, halting you in his own movements. He turned his body to face you, an unusual softness in his gaze. It took you back if only for a split second and you couldn’t help but swallow silently.

   “Well?” You snuffed. “What was so important that you had to bring me out here so close to curfew? I was kinda busy, y’know.” 

   “It’s important.”   “You keep saying that and it doesn’t get any more believable, dude.” Your words were filled with malice for the man in front of you. But even you couldn’t deny the ever so obvious fact. This was not the boy you knew from before. He was different. Something happened.

   “I’m sorry.” He finally mumbled, sending icy chills up your entire body. You visibly tensed at the two words, eyes widening and hands getting clammy.

   “What?”

   “I’m sorry. Both for taking up your time so suddenly and for everything I’ve done to you. You didn’t deserve any of that. I’ve been working myself up to admitting everything that happened and that it was no one else’s but my fault. Nothing I ever said to you was true, I know that. The things I did to you and the things of yours that I destroyed will never be erased but the bottom line I can give you is a proper apology like you’ve deserved the whole time.” 

The words spewing from his mouth weren’t what you were expecting. Why here? Why now? What was he planning? Did he just want to get on your good side in order to humiliate you again? No. I’m not letting him get to me again.

   “I don’t give a fuck what you have to say about the past, you piece of shit. You think you can just waltz out here and say sorry and it’ll all be happy go lucky?!” You snapped, your gaze hostile and burning into his own. 

   “I didn’t come out here with the expectation that you’d forgive me. I wasn’t even expecting you to come out here with me at all if I’m honest. I just thought the least you deserved was an apology for all the stupid childish shit I pulled.”

   “Well I don’t fucking care! You ruined my life, asshat!”   “I know.”

   “You made me feel like something worse than dirt!”

   “I know.”

   “You told me to kill myself!”

   “..I know.”

   “Then tell me something you don’t know! Or shut the fuck up and stay out of my way! I didn’t come here for you, I did this for me. You’re nothing more than a number to me.” 

   “I know that’s not true. I may not be able to ever fully understand the pain I put you through for so long, but I know that as much as you hate me, I’ll never just be that background character. And I hate that even now I’m still hurting you.”

Your hands and lips trembled and your eyes burned. This motherfucker.

   “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

   “No, what’s bullshit is the fact that you’re trying to deny it. I may have ripped up those letters but it doesn’t mean I didn’t read them.”

You gasped with shaky breaths. You thought he didn’t. No, you know he didn’t.

   “Bullshit.” You utter. Your voice was getting more uneven by the second.

   “I kept the pieces and taped it back up when I had gotten home. I don’t know why I did, but I did. And I kept it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a folded piece of paper out. He unfolded it, revealing an absurd amount of scotch tape holding the fragile item together. “I looked at it everyday, rereading the rods and I couldn’t help but want to kick my own ass for being so shitty to you. You didn’t deserve it when all you wanted to do was follow your instinct.” His voice was getting smaller. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to keep hearing it. He slowly held out the paper to you and your brain didn’t stop your hands from taking it. Your fingers brushed his and a sudden rush of energy shot down your spine. You shivered light, turning the paper and reading it. There in your middle school handwriting - A confession letter addressed to the fiery blonde. It explained how the wolf in you had chosen him to be your one. You hated the word mate, you always have. You even explained that in the page and a half of writing. You told him you didn’t expect him to love you back, but to at least let you be around him a little more often. You told him you couldn’t help but feel safe around him, even if he was a bit mean to others sometimes. You told him you didn’t like that he bullied Midoriya but would help him calm down if he accepted you. You told him you’d be there to protect him day and night. That you’d always be there if he needed you. That you would help him whenever he felt down or angry. You’d help him with quirk training, you’d help him with homework, you’d help him study for exams. You just wanted to be near him. That’s all you ever wanted.

And yet when you almost tripped over yourself to hold the note out to him, he took one look at it and burst out laughing. He and his friends laughed at you and taunted you to no end. He snatched the letter from your meek hands and ripped it up in front of you. They kept laughing as you began to cry and pulled your tail back rather harshly when you tried to leave. They tripped you, letting you cry on the floor as they kept laughing and spewing insults at you.

   “I’d never wanna be with a mutt like you!” He guffawed. “You’re so weak! All you’d do is cry my ear off. You’re always so annoying!”

   “You called me a mutt that day.” You whispered, staring blankly at the paper.

   “I did.”

   “You called me weak…”

   “I did.”

   “You called me annoying.”

   “I know.”

   “You told me I’d have a better chance at meeting a man if I jumped off the school roof. But not even the EMT’s would wanna touch me because I was so disgusting.” 

He was silent.

   “You told me to stay out of your way. If I ever came back, you’d put me in my place. Do you remember?”

   “I do.”

   “So? Was this part of your plan? Get me all mopey and beat the shit outta me again?”

   “No.”

   “Then why?...” You grit your teeth and threw the paper to the ground. “WHY DO THIS TO ME?!”

He took a step towards you. You stood your ground. He took another step. You didn’t. He took another. He was right in front of you. Your fists were balled tight, knuckles white. Your body trembled.

   “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice barely audible. You growled, lifting your right arm and hooking him square in the jaw. He hit the ground with a thump. He didn’t try to get up. He didn’t stop you when you climbed over him, screaming profanities and hitting his chest in a way you both knew didn’t hurt physically. But it did hurt. He didn’t stop when your attacks ceased and all you did was sob into his chest, curling in on yourself. He didn’t stop you when you began spewing apologies for different things he knew you shouldn’t have to apologize for. All he did was lay there, back against the cold concrete as clouds began to roll into the night sky. You didn’t notice the way water began to drizzle onto your back. You didn’t notice the tears in Bakugou’s eyes and you didn’t notice that you’d begun to curl yourself into him. What you did notice was the feeling of his warm arms wrapping around you. You didn’t want to feel this way again. You hated how safe his hold felt. You hate how warm he was. You hated how soft the both of you were feeling. 

   “I’m sorry.” He repeated. It felt like a mantra at this point. The only words that held any meaning from him tonight. “I’m sorry.”

   “You’re awful…” You whimpered into his shoulder.

   “I know.”

   “You don’t deserve this…”

   “I know.”

   “You mean it….Don’t you?”

   “I do.”

   “Dammit…” You couldn’t help the soft laugh that left your lips and he couldn’t either. And within the span of a few seconds, you were both having a laughing fit as the rain came down harder and harder with the passing time.

   “I hate you.” You giggled, sitting up and wiping your eyes.

   “I know.” He smiled, sitting up with you. You got off him and held out your hand, which he mindlessly took.

   “You know this doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

   “I do. I don’t expect you to. I just wanted you to know.”

   “Good. Now let’s get back inside before Aizawa grasses our asses.” 

You both kept a firm hold of each other’s hand as you led him back inside. When you got to the hallway outside the hallway, you saw a very worried Midoriya pacing back and forth. You slowly let go of Bakugou’s hand and tiptoed up to the green haired individual, tapping his shoulders and laughing a bit at the rise you got out of him. 

   “There you are! I was getting worried, I had half a mind to get Aizawa out here to get you two to come back! Did you notice the rain?!” He cried, shaking your shoulders.

You only then noticed that you were completely drenched and you couldn’t help but burst into another laughing fit.

   “I didn’t even notice it was raining!” You sang, leaning your body against his as he only sighed and led you back inside.

   “Kacchan? You coming?” He asked, peeking his head back out the doorway.

   “Yeah, yeah, nerd. I’m comin’.” He hummed, hands in soaked pockets.

It wasn’t much. But it was a start.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if Carlisle's chsrisma (asumin thst is his gift, following this blog lore) went overboard during Breaking dawn (once the Volturi show up), and everyone fell in love with him as they did with Bella in a previous glorious ask?

The blog lore Carlisle Cullen gift. The time the entire universe fell in love with Bella Swan.

You know the sequel's rarely as good as the original, yes?

Well, let's give it a go.

The Trial Gets Weird

Carlisle's very nervous, more nervous than he's ever been in his life. It very much appears that the Volturi have come to kill them, have now brought an army to take out not only his family but all of Carlisle's friends who are risking their lives to stand with them, with Alec and Jane's gift should they decide it... everyone will be certain to die and Bella will only be able to protect herself and maybe one other.

Bella hopes Renesmee will escape, but it's more likely that she and Jacob will be caught immediately, and they'll die horrifically.

If there's a time for Carlisle's gift to decide on a sudden sharingan style stress induced upgrade, it's now.

However, Carlisle doesn't know that.

What he does know is suddenly no one's talking.

They're all just standing there.

Caius looked like he was about to set Irina on fire, he's stopped somehow in the middle of that (oddly enough, Irina has stopped protesting as well, seeming to have forgotten she was two seconds from being burned alive).

Carlisle slowly realizes that everyone's looking at him.

It takes him a moment to realize it's because he's the Cullen patriarch, and that as he's responsible for the coven, they're probably expecting him to speak even though Edward's Renesmee's father.

Right.

"Well, as you can see, Renesmee is not an immortal child and we have dozens of witnesses who can attest to the lack of danger she presents."

They're all still staring.

Even Edward is staring at him dumbly.

(Carlisle wonders if he accidentally said something very stupid.)

He blathers, "Despite her remarkable growth, Renesmee consumes as much blood as the average vampire, and seems to be able to thrive on animal blood as well as the rest of us. She has never once drunk human blood and is incredibly controlled for even an average vampire, let alone an actual baby who is three months old."

Still nothing.

"So, we have not broken the law but simply discovered... a new... species..."

Carlisle trails off as he doesn't want to get into how, exactly, they managed that.

Everyone's still staring.

Eventually, Carlisle blurts, "Are we found innocent?"

That startles Aro (the quickest to get over this as he was already basically at the level of in love he was with Carlisle already, he just momentarily forgot/found it very difficult to kill him).

"Uh, I need more evidence," Aro says, and then notices the oddly betrayed looks that the entire crowd is giving him. The entire crowd including--are Marcus and Caius glaring at him?

Oh right, because Caius wants Aro to kill everybody, yes, that explains that, until Caius opens his mouth to order the entire Cullen back to Volterra under house arrest so they can watch the little monstrosity grow.

Aro is... very surprised.

It's what he was going to suggest. Well, not the entire family, that's ridiculous, but he'd take the baby at the very least and whoever else would come along so long as they didn't throw a fit.

That Caius is suggesting it is--

Oh, Caius is going to murder them all as soon as they get back, yes, of course, classic Caius.

(Still a bit odd for him, underhanded, when he could suggest they just kill everyone here which was what Aro had expected from him.)

"Yes, we should do that," Aro says lamely now that Caius has stolen his thunder.

Edward immediately protest, as does--everyone else. Including the Romanians. Now, what's odd isn't that they're protesting, but that they seem to be suggesting that Carlisle (and whoever else he wants, whatever) should come live with them.

Suddenly everyone's protesting the idea of the Cullens going to Volterra.

"I'm not saying they're guilty," Aro hedges, "Just that I want to--"

HOW DARE YOU TAKE THIS BEAUTIFUL MAN AWAY WITH YOU!

(Carlisle is getting increasingly embarrassed by this. He wishes everyone would stop, just stop.)

Aro's also very confused. Now, if he were in their position he'd say the exact same thing, but everybody can't be in love with Carlisle, that's just silly.

(Bella, likely immune, is also very confused and a little put out as this was supposed to be about Renesmee. She's trying to feel relieved that everyone, including the Volturi, has gotten waylaid by Carlisle.)

Aro meanwhile touches Marcus's hand and oh dear god, they actually are all in love with Carlisle, even Marcus is, what the fuck?

Bella, however, has decided she's actually angry about this. She spent all this time worrying and they don't even care about Renesmee. Instead Carlisle's just standing there, uselessly, and watching everyone bicker over who he should live with. In Aro's distraction, throws Carlisle under the bus.

"Well, if everyone wants Carlisle so badly, why doesn't he just go to Volterra."

(Edward is horribly betrayed by this idea and looks at his wife in disbelieving horror, as does everyone else who's in love with Carlisle.)

Bella thinks this is a great idea, though. Carlisle's an adult, grown, man, he'll be fine where Renesmee's just a baby. He can go to Volterra for a while, he lived there before and seemed to like it, and the rest of the Cullens can write him letters.

Just as long as Bella, Edward, and Renesmee are not in Volterra.

The trial quickly argues back into taking Carlisle and Renesmee (as just because they're in love with Carlisle does not mean anyone's actually forgotten about Renesmee) while Carlisle tries to come to terms with Bella trying to sell him out with 0 prompting.

This continues until Nahuel shows up at which point Aro with relief can say case closed. He wants to shuffle off screen but... no one else is leaving.

Everyone ends up crashing at the Cullens, waiting for Carlisle to move out with whoever.

So, coming to Ireland, Carlisle?

It's very awkward as the Volturi really aren't welcome but... they're not leaving...

(Carlisle suddenly wants to move out to the wilderness and never see anyone again.)

Eventually, the Cullens have to leave Forks as even with hunting on the sly, the sheer number of vampires is just too noticeable, and they move to the wilderness where the Cullens are miserable and Carlisle is pestered by absolutely everyone to come live with them and uh get off this weird diet.

(Beautifully, despite the gift upgrade, no one wants to do the diet.)

[maissafespace]

bachira or rin with the reader cockwarming, praising them as they cry out of frustration frustrated that the reader won't move, u can add the ending if it's fluff or it's gonna end with smut. gn reader, IT ALSO CAN BE UR OPTION IF ITS BACHIRA/RIN DOING IT!!

hope this wasn't a bad request I still have no idea how to say my desires

Frustration.

Bachira Meguru x GN!Reader

Synopsis: The consequences of too much talking when drunk with his friends and teammates would have come eventually, in the worst way for Meguru. Or maybe the best?

Warnings: explicit sexual content; penetrative sex, cockwarming, tying up, use of ropes, edging, teasing, frustrated!Meguru, marking, scars, mean!reader, creampie. mentions of alcohol consuming.

A/N: This is my first time writing a gender neutral fic so I hope I didn't disappoint you, I tried to avoid mistakes but I don't know, hope you like it and thank you so much for the request! Also I chose Bachira cuz I can't imagine Rin like that, I feel like he would just get angry lmfao Also i’m sorry if it’s written badly but it’s 1am and i wanted to get it done today :)

Masterpost - Masterlist

It would have been a normal night between you two if it wasn't for the amount of blubbering from Meguru with his teammates.

You were all out together for get-together with the guys from Blue Lock, who he remained friends with and in contact with, they had brought their partners and Meguru obviously had brought you.

Everything was good until a bit of alcohol started coming around, and he started to tell unnecessary things to everyone about both of your sex life, in too much detail when you weren’t around, only when you got there you could shut him up quick but the damage was done.

Looking at it, he probably he thought it was complimenting you or bragging about you to some extent. But objectifying you wasn’t it.

The only thing you were grateful for was the fact that everyone had drank a little above average, so not too many things were remembered, or you believed so. As you were on a call the next day with Rin's partner, things regarding personal stuff came into discussion and they had asked you a question about something intimate, you froze.

There was no point in them knowing whether you were loud or too sensitive or quick to cum or if you begged or not, if you were submissive or not, if you cried or not. If it was true you had a noise complaint from a neighbor because of your loud lovemaking.

It felt like an invasion of privacy.

You weren’t going to snap at Rin’s girlfriend, she didn’t do anything wrong, she probably thought you were open about your sex life if Meguru had discussed about it with everyone. You found an excuse to hang up and just think for the rest of the day.

When you explained this to Meguru, he had initially brushed it off as he didn't remember saying any of that, but as your expression never changed and instead became sour, he had understood he had fucked up.

He tried to apologize the whole time.

As he went to practice, he had sent you boquets of flowers, all your favorite foods, even money, anything every thirty minutes to earn your forgiveness but you didn't even replay to his texts, you didn't read them.

You were too angry and embarrassed right then and probably would have snapped badly at him.

When he came home that night, it was to a cold apartment, lights turned off, curtains shut, tv off as well and your bedroom door closed as well, the only things that gave a sign of somewhat life, were the turned on light of the kitchen and the accumulated amount of gifts on top of the kitchen island.

Meguru could only sigh, he could only wait till the anger of the moment would fade out.

He waited.

And waited.

Three days had passed.

You were still giving him the cold shoulder. It wasn't even that you were being petty about it, you acted as if he wasn't there, carry on like usual with no taunting.

Maybe like this, he would finally get what was the importance of words.

When he came on the fourth day, he was more than fed up with you. You were in the living room, all the lights were off again, you were just sipping on a hot tea as the tv kept going, ignoring his presence.

He made sure to make a loud noise when dropping the duffel bag onto the floor, that didn't faze you. He stood behind you, that didn't faze you either. His hand flew to his hips in annoyance. He sighed, walking right in front of you, blocking your view of the tv.

For the first time in days, you finally made eye contact with him, it was a little something even if he received a sharp glare.

"Get out of the way, Meguru."

He didn't reply, he didn't move, something that was getting on your nerves. Taking the remote control in hand you made sure to pause the show, not wanting to miss anything because of him. "You won't get out of the way, will you?"

The moment you saw his lip slightly twitch upwards at his question, you got up putting your tea on the wood coffee table, you got up to walk away, it was sure that you wouldn't have peace now.

The plan was to go to the bedroom alone, you knew he wanted to have dinner and a shower, that was his routine when he got home. Well, the plan didn't go accordingly, a moment you were stomping away and the next you were thrown on his shoulder. "Meguru, I'm not playing around, put me down, I'm still mad!"

Your words were ignored as much as his were to you before.

There was just the feeling of the mattress after, your back on the soft sheets that felt like clouds, he put himself between your legs, pinning your arms next to your head.

He was looking at you with a mischievous smile. You wouldn't deny and say you didn't miss the intimacy, but there was the embarrassment that showed up in your head as his words kept repeating. "Now you have to listen to me." He said, shaking you slightly.

"I am sorry." He paused, for you to take in the apology. "I truly am, I'm sorry for what my loud mouth sad, I was drunk out of my ass for talking like that and embarrassing you. I won't do that ever again, I will watch my intake and everything, just fucking talk to me and forgive me." He said with rather visible desperation and frustration.

"Fine." You spit back at him. "But we'll do it my way."

His face lit up at your words, grinning in happiness. "Get off. Take off your clothes." You walked to the bathroom, taking the belt of your robe with you back to the bedroom. His smile faltered at what you had in hand. "Y/n, what-"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" You asked him. "Lay down, let me do something." He followed your orders. "Good boy." You muttered and Meguru couldn't lie and found a thrill in it.

His hands were soon tied up above his head and into the headboard, he was bare and vulnerable and so were you.

His cock was up and awake as you straddled his hips, sitting right on top of it, feeling the throbbing and warmth between your thighs. "You want me, don't you?" He nodded, his frustration was palpable, he was already struggling to free himself from the rope.

You followed his wish, sinking down onto his cock, you felt the stretching feeling and the slight burn you loved so much, you moaned at the feeling of being so full of him after these many days, your clenching hole sending shivers to him, he was eager for you, to please you and please himself.

But something was off after a few seconds when he knew you should've gotten accustomed to him, you were not moving.

Your hips pressed down so he didn’t have the option to fuck you by thrusting up. You were the one pinning him down, you for once were not the submissive and sensitive one. As your finger traced all his chest, his breath got heavier, you could feel him twitch in you.

“You look so pretty like this.” Your voice was as soft as he had remembered, sweet like honey and a little rough and seductive. He shifted a little, trying to find some friction to relieve the throbbing pain. “Mhm, mhm… no, no, it’s not time to move yet. You said you’d listen to me.”

“Fuck…” He whimpered.

Seconds passed. So did minutes and you still wouldn’t budge.

You just complimented him just like he did with you, his flushed face, the red and pink of his cheeks, the lust filled gaze, the slight shaking of his body, the slight shining veil of sweat on his body as he lost control, everything was erotic about him right at this moment. “My pretty man, only mine.”

Your lips were biting down his ear lobe, whispering and humming. Skin to skin, you felt the heat of his body and it engulfed you like home.

“Only yours, y/n, please. Start moving please.” Looking at him from the top, you noticed the glossy look in his eyes, tears were starting to fill at the frustration, tears that he couldn’t contain when he felt your slutty hole clamp around him. “Fuck! Please! I’m sorry!” He cried to you.

“How are you so handsome even when you cry?” You asked finally pecking his lips, letting the tears stain his face. You kissed him again, each time gradually longer than the previous. “There was no reason to reach this point. But you let it.”

Your hips lifted and soon drop down on him, and you were sure from the way he felt inside that he was going to cum already. “Meguru, wait till I cum too.” He gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw at the command.

“I can’t-“

“You have or I’m going to stop right now.” You said as the slow pace kept going, making sure you felt every inch of him and him every inch of you. He whimpered at your words, his feet were planted on the bed, trying to control his legs and focus on them instead of the perfect tightness of you.

“Let me touch you at least, I promise I won’t do anything else.” He begged as another tear rolled his eye. You couldn’t deny your energetic little sunshine. Your sweet boy. So you did, letting the rope fall somewhere, he was fast and rough with his movements, he went to grab your thighs immediately.

You groaned at the pain of his fingers and nails digging deep into your flesh, from your thighs, moving to your waist. Behind remained little but numerous pink and red marks that will later become purple.

That felt a bit enough for him, focusing now on the rest of you instead of him.

You kept going up and down his length, starting to pick up the pace when you felt your orgasm approach, the slapping of your ass on his skin echoed in the room at the hard thrusts that was leaving more red behind.

Your hands dug onto his chest below you. “Fuck, Guru, I’m going to cum-“ You told him, his contorted face told you the same thing. “Y/n, y/n!”

Unconsciously you both kept thrusting one another ignoring the sensitivity, his cock filling you of his cum while yours dispersed on him.

Breathing hard and heavy, the hold you two had on each other loosened, your body fell forward on him, as his arms wrapped around you.

It was a quick round that felt like ages for him but that was more than satisfactory.

“Y/n, I really am sorry.” He whispered as he kissed the top of your head. “Im sorry I cannot take everything I said back, it wasn’t from a malicious standpoint either, I’m proud of you being my partner, so I wouldn’t hide it but it was rather crass then. It’s my fault.” He said with an unusual sad and serious voice.

You sighed. “I know, it was the alcohol but it was still embarrassing.”

“I know.”

“Would you want them to know about tonight? How you cried and begged like I do? No, it’s not something to say out loud, it’s for us only to know.”

“I actually kind of like the way tonight went, minus the anger on your side.” He backed down as he met your glare. “N-no, I wouldn’t them to know.”

“Exactly. Don’t do that again, I also don’t like when you drink.” You muttered into his skin.

He kissed your head once again. “I promise. Am I forgiven.”

Your tone was little almost unbearable. “Yup.”

[misguidedasgardian]

hello! hope your day was well and the watching of the season finale was fun.

here is my rant for this episode lol. i always look forward to your commentary!!

> to start: not jace acting as if ulf and hugh were just regular everyday bastards like no bud, they are targaryen bastards (or at least i think ulf is, hugh confirmed he is). like had their moms been married and had them, they'd have a high claim than both him and his mom. and the projecting is crazy, like baela said, get it together and stand by your mom bro, you have uno jobs.

> daemon is literally a crazy man, like crazier than me on a normal everyday average day.

> also, if we went based on how the succession should've gone, plenty of people have a high claim to the throne like rhaenyra did (baela/rhaena through rhaenys). like many people have the means to challenge her, they just dont have the energy (thanks jaehaerys for not liking women??)

> aemond i swear is a woman beater. like if he is willing to lay a hand upon his sister...imagine if he had a wife and the way he talks down to his mom and helaena is oooo, i'd have him smacked silly. like im so glad alicent interceded for helaena because ... he just lost his damn mind.

> alicent is lowkey wishing she had to put up with aegon at this point (everyone is wishing the same lol)

> gwayne clocking cole was gold and criston cole's smartest line by far was something along the lines of: "perhaps all men are corrupt and perhaps honor blows away like mist in the morning." it kind of goes hand in hand with the quote from game of thrones that's something like "there's a beast in every man and he stirs when a sword is put in his face."

> didn't know we were wrestling in mud today and Tyland is as confused as me every episode.

> the acting kills me every time like no offense because i know i couldn't do better, but like the first episode of game of thrones had better acting like its good in this show but not the best like i swear sometimes they talk like robots or like theyre explaining the plot to us (which alicent did for no reason towards the end like just be evil to be evil. women can be evil too they don't always have to be kind and submissive.)

> these characters have become so unlikeable that i have to dig deep to find ones i like.

> ulf has no table manners and not everyone mentioning they aren't of noble birth but like technically, they are like they're as much royal as jace the only difference is his mom kept him and his grandfather allowed it so he should count his blessings.

> alys is carrying and she makes daemon more likeable and i rather watch them and their friendship than daemon and rhaenyra's weird codependency daddy issue relationship (they are making me hate targcest. matter of fact, all the targayens are making me hate everything about them.)

> helaena gets my cheers because she told aemond who was boss and stuck it to him and proved she has a voice and just chooses when to use it. like im betting she wishes aegon was better because at least he was moldable unlike aemond like you could manipulate aegon to do what you wanted. aemond is a lose cannon that needs to be put out.

> corlys without rhaenys is making me ill because he doesnt care that he abandoned his kids, alyn and addam to start a whole new family and left them to fend for themselves as kids like finish what you started. im sick of seeing bastards left and right and watching their families move on without them like finish what yous started if you can!!

> rhaena's safari quest is like watching an ad for something like if i see her quest again, i might cry.

> season 2= story with no plot

sorry for the essay friend, i feel bad every time you respond to it because its so long, but hey, its the last episode so the rants can become shorter now and less time consuming!!

p.s> otto being locked in a tower when everyone is trying to reach him is so funny.

It's fine, I feel like we all got so much to say, we are so confused, angry, sad, Idk what I'm feeling anymore

>You know what? I'm with Jace on this. Rhaenyra said it herself "they think we are closer to gods than to men, but they say that because of our dragons, without them we are like everyone else", then let's go to Jace, who realises he is a bastards on a very early age, think about the fact that the only way to comfort him, is Rhaenyra assuring him that "you are a Targaryen, that's all that matters", and the only "legitimization" he had was his blood, the fact that he (a bastard) could ride Dragons THAT ONE WAS HATCHED TO HIM ON HIS CRIB, then a war breaks out because of the usurpation, which one of its many "justifications", is that Rhenyra "has no true heirs", and his bastarcy had been called out MANY TIMES BY MANY IMPORTANT PEOPLE, and then.... AND THEN HE SEES THIS "COLLECTION" of bastards like him who can also ride dragons? So yeah, I'd be bitter too, and super insecure, because bastards get KILLED in this world, but I also see your point, but the fact that two of them had the white hair that he does not? dang

>Daemon... yesh, whatever makes you sleep at night dude, like, if you needed an Ayahuasca trip to come to the realisation that you need to support your wife... go for it my dude jejeje,whatever ticklled your fancy JAJAJA

>Yeah but that fizzles because of Viserys was made king... so... no point on resurfacing Rhaenys' claim

>I said it before... they DESTROYED their character, I thought his family was going to be what makes him a great villain, an antagonist even, I DO IT FOR MY FAMILY FOR MY MOTHER WHO DEFENDED ME AND MY SISTER WHO IS AN INNOCENT, why couldn't they keep that in? like in S1E9? it makes it much more attractive, and powerful AND LIKEABLE. I LIKED HIM IN SEASON ONE! i found him such an interesting character! where that was left, idk.

>Alicent is just... incoherent, madder then tripping Daemon

>I found that scene useless and boring, and??? like... why? why there? it was like, they filmed it, they made Criston say some "good" lines (?) and then they didn't know where to put the scene so they just threw it somewhere not to waste it? Why he is recriminating him about fucking his sister (IN FRONT OF EVERYONE? DUMB C*NT) NOW? now after like four chapters since we know him? (and he found out) no sense

>Like I said, they cut out two chapters, so m guess is that it was part of something THAT MADE MORE FUCKING SENSE? hahaha I found it weirdly likeable (more at the end)

>I have nothing to say about the actors actually, they are fine to watch I guess, they are victims on this

>They have nobody sacred, they destroyed Alicent, BUTCHERED Aemond, (because despite what TG has to say... TEAM GREENS ARE THE VILLAINS DUDE (in the books), and they manage in season one to actually have fans that are TG!!! and people who enjoyed their characters!!! I could get behind cult Alicent, because she had nothing else so she turned to the gods, so, I guess that's fine BUT ITS NOT FINE BECAUSE IT WAS FOR NOTHING???

They made TB boring and indecisive, butchering them too?? BORING, IDK, if I was Rhaenyra, Alicent would have been DEAD to me the second I realized what happened... specially after she tortured me, diminished me, bullied me, and put my BABIES in risk for all those years... BUT SHE IS WORTH A LIFE-RISKING TRIP FOR? the septa scene was just straight out of a PARODY (calling it fanfiction is an insult to us) and jsut not speak about this last encounter (GO NYRA, MOCK HER, SCOFF AT HER), but what the writters did to them both, is a crime punished by the gods

>Ulf, I don't even want to talk about that clown, I hate him, but Nyra c'mon, what did you expect?

>I have little thoughts about Alys... I really thought they were going to take her character in a complete different direction, Idk how to feel about her, I like that she could be like a "grey" character, like a Loki of some sorts, like "the end justifies the means", yes I'm going to mentally torture you for weeks, only to make you come to the realisation that you must protect and fight for your wife, like, thanks I guess? jejejeje I'm intrigued of what are they going to do with Aemond and Alys... those trips are going to be... DIABOLICAL hahahaha

>Yes I agree, if they had placed ONE scene with Helaena visiting Aegon... she would have been my top three favorite characters in the season, definitely, what Phia has done with her character (WITH SO LITTLE) makes her worthy of a FUCKING OSCAR, and GRRM said it himself, she is one of the characters who he liked more portrayed then in his own writting so, yeah, PUT HIM ON HIS PLACEEEEE, she was like "fuck around and find outttt" hahah

>Yeah, I thought Corlys was going to pull trough this as a decent man, but what he had done and will do? motherfucker, that's all I have to say, you did not deserve Rhaenys, nor those kids, and his house will collapse in front of hiseyes. (I hope they give Addam the place of his brother in the story taking the lead on House Velaryon) Corlys (like Otto) deserve everything that's coming their way, I wrote it on HOTW, he and Otto sank their teeth into a Targaryen of their choice, and they ripped them apart.

>Yeah, Daemon in Harrenhal all over again, It doesn't help that I don't like her at all, look, I'm not the prettiest doll in the store, but I don't like to "watch her", and thinking about what will happen in the Essos crossing, adding to the fact that she will claim a dragon, infuriates me and hasn't even happened yet, she is behaving like a spoiled brat and just... she bores me, Daemon I get it... (FOR SOCIAL REASONS I'M KIDDING), Baela is hanging by a thread, they must give her something to do besides having scenes with Jace. I enjoyed her scene in moondancer, but like the Rhaenys' scene... was for shock value, and not that important to the plot...

>This was all over the place, I just keep writing and writing this and something else always comes up

You know what? i was so fucking angry, about to go to bed angry, and this actually helped me to "put my idead in order", I really hope you can read this noonie! really, I was all over the place, and this somehow soothed me.

HAHAHA Otto! where is he? can't imagine where... he said he was going to the Tyrells? so I don't know who he could have crossed on his way there since they send Tyland to Essos (in the leaks they say it was gonna be him dealing with the triarchy). I enjoyed that part, they gave the triarchy faces, and that gives them a depth that... I weirdly liked.

MUAHAHA

[decompose1]

Hey so, I have a question about Amanita if you're okay with answering! I wantex to ask, how do other objects (besides Crt and Amanita's family I'm assuming) react to aer strange diet consiting of rotting organisms? Does the average stranger/passerby/acquaintance usually react with disgust? discomfort? Do people usually try to atleast be polite about their negative perceptions? More subtle? How many-

(cont) Times have people been more openly rude about it? Did Amanita get shamed or harassed over it very often? I'm just curious to know more about that! <:)

OKAY SO!! this is a sorta fun topic, because it has a lot to do with my ideas about object specbio/culture/etc, particularly with fungi, which i've thought about SO much.

so!! consumption of rot is pretty normal for fungi- essential, even! here's a like. short diagram

Fungi are specialized for consuming decaying material, and not doing so would be sort of difficult for them!

So it would be expected.... if you . really knew anything ABOUT fungi. Which is not necessarily that widespread- for a reason!

Fungi tend to be rarer in regular cities- they often live in clusters, in their own sort of dedicated towns. There are two primary reasons for this, mostly boiling down to their mycelium networks + their tendency to totally wreck buildings with fungus/mold/humidity/etc.

So they're kind of!! Not an object you see every day in a regular city, although they definitely CAN and do live there sometimes, most just. prefer not to for the listed reasons (and i'll explain further in another post but i'm already rambling a bit more than i need to here, hehehe).

... Anyways! Ama moved out to a big city, which is where ae met CRT + others. And- yeah, most people thought it was kinda weird and gross. Ae IS eating straight-up mold and rot, and a lot of other objects just aren't used to/aware of the dietary preferences/the science of fungi, so. It's. A little shocking sometimes!! I implied this a little in the comic where CRT meets Flowerbox (here).

CRT was already aware of Ama's needs/prefs because they studied mycology! So this wasn't surprising to them, just fascinating, since it had to do with their own passion for biology/mycology/etc.

Honey Fungus + Amanita's family are also fungi, and came from the same town, so they all have the same diet :o)

I thiiiink. Uranium Glass would've quietly found it really strange, and might've mentioned, like, "that's spoiled, you know", but would probably just stop questioning it if ae confirmed that was the intention. Whatever, Ama can eat whatever weird stuff ae wants, it doesn't affect him so he doesn't care that much. Flowerbox, as you see, thinks it's kinda weird and gross, but changed his mind a little when CRT talked about it. Still weird, but CRT's gesture was sweet. Skirt might've been the most understanding? Her general attitude is "oh, well, we all have our things, i'm not about to go judging! That's what makes you special!". Skirt is very nice.

Milk was probably the hardest sell on this because she's just generally kind of stubborn and opinionated. She's the most likely to have complained any, but she, as Ama's closest friend in the city (Honey being the closest from aer hometown), would've warmed up and eventually kind of. Quietly given aer dishes she "didn't eat in time". Admittedly, she probably made it for aer and didn't wanna say so. Ama knew this. Milk is just tough.

Anyways! Other than the Defined Characters, i think most public reactions were either quiet disgust or people just politely attempting to ignore the weird thing happening in public. Probably some occasional mocking/questions/etc, but honestly, Amanita likely never quite understood why this was so weird to anyone. It's just what fungi do, naturally!

sorry this is Entirely Too Long! i've got to make a more organized post about my fungus object thoughts

[hcrdknocklife]

"Because you've told me enough about him. I may not know him, Riley, but I have come across enough men like him. Men who are secure in their masculinity, who know their worth, they'll seek out a partner who's worthy of them, a partner who also knows their own worth, and finds them worthy. They'll respect each other, both inside, and outside of the relationship. But when men who are insecure get into a relationship, they'll try to impose that insecurity on their partner, like your ex." Hayes explained with a shrug of his shoulders, leaning back in his seat as he flipped through the menu. "This idea that men are superior, that they need to be better at everything, that societal pressure drives their insecurity. Consider this, Riley. You're incredibly smart. You're smarter than the average person, as a matter of fact, and there are several tests that confirm that. A man who is secure in his masculinity, he would not be threatened by your intelligence. But an insecure man, like your ex, he will be. So, what does he do? He'll try to find a way to make himself feel better by constantly nitpicking, and criticizing everything you do. Find one small mistake, and blow it up, use it against you, let you know that you're not any better than him. But this isn't just true in your case. Every time a woman shows an insecure man that she is smart, confident, capable... better, he'll wait for the moment she slips up, and when she does, he'll make sure to let her know that she's not as smart, or capable... to the point where she'll start questioning herself, even internalize it. It happens to a lot of women. Hell, I even have a friend who went through something similar. The truth is, Riley, you are way out of his league. But every time you showed him that you were, his insecurity made him want to prove otherwise, to make himself feel better. In order to stroke his own ego, he made you feel smaller. But you're not." From what he can tell, it seemed as though Riley had internalized it too. Not that he considered that to be a flaw, but he hoped to help her overcome her insecurities.

"Needless to say, I also learned all of that from the articles I read. Psychiatry was kind of my back-up plan, in case surgery didn't work out." He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he closed the menu, and set it down. With a concerned expression plastered on his face upon hearing her confess to having constant anxiety, Hayes looked up to meet Riley's gaze. "Have you considered seeking professional help? I know that mental health wasn't such a big deal back when you were a kid, but the times have changed. As a matter of fact, I'm currently in the process of assigning an in-house psychotherapist for the hospital. I figured that the staff could all benefit from having access to free mental health services, not that it's not covered. But when I spoke to some of the residents about what else we can do to improve their mental health, they brought up the fact that this job requires them to be at the hospital at all times. They can't leave the hospital whenever they wanted to, even if it was to go to therapy. I thought that was bullshit, pardon my language, so I said... fine, if you can't get yourselves to therapy, I'll bring the therapist to you." Getting the board to approve that had been a hassle in itself, but that's besides the point. "You don't have to make use of this service. But if you ever feel like you need to get some help, you have the option to." A small, reassuring smile crept upon his lips as he reached across the table, placing his hand on top of theirs, the professional boundaries be damned. "There is no such thing as caring too much. It's called being passionate. The fact that you care as much as you do is what makes you... you. It's who you are, and who you'll always be. I'd say embrace it, but don't let it consume you to the point where you underestimate your own abilities. You are good at what you do, but the only way you can be better than good, in order for you to improve, you have to admit to yourself that you still have a lot to learn. Life is not a race, Riley. But even if it was, just because you've managed to get ahead of everyone else who began this race with you, it doesn't mean that you've already made it to the finish line. You still have a long way to go."

"I never seek praise for what I do, but thank you." Hayes offered them a wider smile as he withdrew his hand. "It means a lot coming from you, but I also have a long way to go." Why did their opinion mean so much to him? He had no clue. But knowing that someone did believe in him while most people in his life had been waiting for him to fail was rather refreshing. After all, not many people had considered the changes he had been making at the hospital as positive. But that did not stop Hayes from wanting to bring forth those changes anyways. While he might not be able to make everyone happy, he would still be able to make the right people happy. That he was quite certain of. "Maybe?" He remarked, a cheeky grin plastered across his face before he let out a rather hearty laugh. "I'm just stating the obvious, Riley. This job is emotionally taxing. Everyday, we deal with people during what could possibly be the worst day of their lives, and we do this day in, and day out. That's a lot for anyone to deal with. You shouldn't isolate yourself when things get hard, so you might as well surround yourself with people when things are going well. There's nothing wrong with that." Perhaps that was why he had felt the need to bring Riley out to dinner that evening, especially after hearing what had happened.

"No, it's not that I don't have confidence in my love life. The timing just isn't right." As of right now, the hospital was taking up all of his time. But even if it wasn't, it was not like he would ever consider crossing a line with a resident. He had considered waiting, but that would take years anyways. Either way, he did not need to meet anyone, or settle down, no matter how many of his friends bullied him for it. He was too busy. "Hey, easy for you to say. You're just a resident physician. Your hours might be long, but all you have to do is whatever your Chief Resident tells you to do... which is see patients. I, on the other hand, have an entire hospital to run... when I'm not performing surgeries, that is. Not only did I choose a surgical specialty where one procedure takes at least half of my day, but when I'm not in the OR, I'm also overseeing my regenerative medicine lab, where I'm no longer the primary researcher, since I don't have the time to do any of my research since inheriting this hospital. This means I have to deal with bi-weekly board meetings where a group of old men who've never gone to medical school, or treated a patient in their lives tell me how we should be doing things, after which I have to explain to them why we can't. Then there are the monthly budget meetings, where I need to figure out how to allocate the funding in a way that makes everyone happy, which is nearly impossible. Then I have to go back to the board, present the budget, and get it approved. Between all of this, I have to charm potential donors, treat VIP patients in return for donations, and God forbid the nurses try to go on strike. I have to be the one to negotiate with the union, and find the money to cover their demands. I've also been overseeing the residency program, as you already know. Not to mention the fact that I'm the first point of contact when there's any sort of crisis at the hospital. Let me tell you, this is why I hate my father." He explained, letting out another laugh before he shook his head. "It's much harder for me to take my own advice, Riley. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't find some work-life balance." Maybe Hayes was the one who really needed to leave the hospital, and had used Riley as an excuse.

"You're not wrong about that, Riley. It's not a crime to date your coworker. It might be frowned upon, but it's definitely not illegal. Besides, HR does have paperwork for these kinds of things. It's just a lot more complicated in my case." He noted, shrugging. "It's hard to establish consent when I am in a position of power. I'm the Board Chairman. I'm everyone's boss, and I can't abuse that power. That's one line I would never cross." Shaking his head, Hayes offered Riley another smile, clearly not upset by his current situation. "If I were to ask out an employee, and they accepted, there is a possibility that they might have done it because they thought they would otherwise lose their job. Even if they did it because they wanted to be with me, I know that I have a reputation as a successful surgeon, Board Chairman of the hospital, and I come from a whole family of doctors. I may not engage with hospital gossip, but I know what it would look like... to everyone else. I don't want anyone to think that this person was using me to get ahead in their career, even if it's not true. I know they're not that kind of person, but I can't put them in a position where it seems that way. I don't want someone's hardwork, and dedication to their career being undermined just because I had a hard time on Tinder. I'll get over it."

"But enough about me, and my non-existent love life. Let's talk about you." Hayes grinned, hoping to lighten up the mood. Seeing the apprehension on Riley's face, he leaned forward in his seat to meet their gaze, and shook his head. "Because I know that you're capable. I'm not looking for someone who's experienced, Riley. I'm looking for someone who cares. While someone more experienced is definitely capable of doing this, they don't need to do something like this, nor would they want to. They have the experience, the reputation, and the salary that comes with it. They won't care. I'm not doing this just to have someone add this as the umpteenth thing on their LinkedIn profile, and make themselves look good. I want someone who will use this as the experience they need to move forward, to say that they ran a whole damn clinic so early on in their career when they're trying to make a name for themselves." He explained, his voice laced with conviction. "I want you. You're an excellent physician, and you care so much about patient care. You're empathetic, and you have this way of connecting with people. I've seen it with my own eyes. You're exactly what I need. I'm not going to make you go into this blindly, and you'll have my full support throughout. You don't have to accept this offer right away, but... at least take some time, and think about it?"

( continued. ) ♡ @hcrdknocklife

"how do you know that i’m out of his league if you’ve never met him?” there’s still a small smile on her lips regardless of the finer details because even after all this time, it’s reassuring to hear from people who couldn’t disagree with her ex’s words more; especially when it’s a person she respects so much. the sad truth is that if someone spends enough time telling you that you’re not very smart, you’ll eventually start to believe it, and there are some tougher days at work where riley will start to fall back into that pattern. she swears she’s trying, but learning how to deal with failure without shouldering the full blame has never come naturally for her. “you say you don’t have much experience with it and that might be true, but whatever articles you’ve read seem to be pretty accurate. i can barely remember what not being anxious feels like.” when was the last time they were genuinely entirely carefree, with no nagging thoughts at the back of their mind or something lurking beneath that causes their stomach to twist itself into nervous knots? it must have been around their early school years, back before anybody had managed to figure out just how advanced her little brain could be in comparison to her classmates. once they did, it was all downhill from there. if she asked for assistance with something, what if the adults were disappointed? she was the clever one, after all. surely she shouldn’t need to be talked through the process like everyone else. sadly, she knows not everyone thinks the same way hayes does. not everyone is so willing to help.

“yeah, i know… although i’m starting to think there might be such a thing as caring too much.” imagine how much easier life would be if they could just shut off the limbic system in their brain for a little while and coast through the day without getting caught up on every minor mistake or overthinking every conversation hours after they've already ended. what a dream that would be. “that’s probably the smarter choice in the long run. but for what it's worth, i think you deserve all that praise you don't listen to.” it seems like feeling undeserving of flattery is just another thing they have in common. "i suppose if it was easy, anybody could do it, right? but you're the one in that position for a reason. you said you're doing the best you can and if everyone can already see that when you've barely just begun, i'd take that as a sign that you're moving in the right direction. so don't worry, i don't think you'll disappoint me either." realistically, they aren't even the one he should be afraid of letting down — what does their personal opinion really matter in the long run? "oh, ouch… are you trying to tell me to get a life right now?" being so directly called out would be woefully embarrassing if the initial surprise hadn’t made her laugh. is she that predictable? it's not like she never sees the light of day and spends the time in between shifts at home, staring blankly at the wall until it's time to leave again; she just tends not to do stuff that most people would deem as particularly adventurous or exciting. it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone to learn that she's not much of an extrovert. “hey, if you don't have confidence in your love life, someone has to. whatever form it ends up taking, yes, i'm willing to bet that you’ll get there. is that so hard to believe?" riley of all people giving out any kind of relationship advice is incredibly ironic, but she has a feeling about this one. he's so stereotypically perfect, it's close to frustrating. "yeah, that's what i thought… but then again, how else do you plan on meeting someone if you're exhausting all your other options?" at the mention of dating essentially getting in the way of work however, a knowing smile settles on their lips. ah, that sounds familiar. “i'm sorry, what was that you were saying earlier about me needing to work on my work-life balance? i'm afraid you might need to start taking your own advice." at this point, it should probably be considered a miracle that they aren't both still at the hospital right now.

“oh, i see… i suppose i didn’t think about that part.” she hadn't even thought that a member of staff would be an option for him, but it makes sense in hindsight; it's where he spends most of his time after all. the downside to this information is that now, their mind is running at a rapid pace trying to figure out who exactly has managed to capture his attention. they’re not one to gossip — especially not while at work — but they’d be lying if they said their curiosity wasn’t piqued. “as long as it’s consensual though, i’m sure there’s a way to work around the rules somehow, right? it may technically be frowned upon, but it’s not like you’d be breaking the law… i doubt you’re the first person to ever develop feelings for an employee.” aren’t there hundreds of cliche romance books out there about dating your boss? it must be a pretty common line of thinking for some people. as soon as it becomes clear that he's finally going to tell her why they're really here, riley's spine straightens and she tries not to lean forward in anticipation. she hadn’t the faintest idea what she was actually expecting him to say, but it wasn’t… that. her mouth opens the second the words leave his lips, but no sound comes out yet and she has to quickly shut it again. is he positive he hasn’t gotten her mixed up with someone else? “um, the clinic sounds like a great idea,” she begins, trying to find the best way to voice her confusion. this day has taken so many unexpected turns, she's shocked she's not dizzy. “but… why would you want me? you have plenty of other doctors who are far more experienced and capable than i am. giving me that responsibility... it feels like a risk.” 

[mauesartetc]

Hi Maue! Bless you for this account, it’s helped me so much in developing as an artist… sorry for adding onto your already-stuffed askbox, but i was wondering if you could help a little with some character design stuff i’m going over?

If not thats fine👍

but uh if so there’s this family of edwardian anthro dogs i am working on. Robbie was born into the family and married Shelley to keep up appearances, and Shelley married him as she could present as a woman and be greatly elevated in financial status. they adopted susan, and robbie’s in a rather unstable relationship with Some Girl/Guy named ernie…robbie is kinda taking advantage of his status and political importance to do whatever he wants. He is not really a good person and i am kindaaaa poking fun at a few billionaires with his character. shelley is a woman who is rightfully angry at her husband being a awful guy and just wants a normal life while still trying to appease her husband so she doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of getting on the wrong side of royalty, susan’s some strange child who thinks robbie and shelley are cool but sorta starts to realize something’s a bit funky about them. anyways so i was wondering how i’d instill motifs of animals other than dogs in these dogish-creatures that relate to their personality whilst still keeping them a canine species, and also how if you have any tips on conveying info through clothing in character design..or any other thing you think i could change with their designs for the better…

sorry if this was rambly and have a good day👍

Ooh fun! To start with, it’d help to figure out which breed of dog each character is based on and work from there. Once you put a specific name to the appearance you’re looking for, it gets so much easier to find visual references for it. (And yes, visual references will very much be your friends, especially in the early stages of character design.) Judging by these character sheets, we’ll want to link Susan with reptiles and amphibians, Robbie with barn owls, and Shelley with shelled creatures. But first, some general notes:

I’ll admit I straight up forgot cereal was a thing in the Edwardian era (which covered the period from 1901-1910 for anyone unfamiliar), so the fact that Robbie inherited a cereal company kinda threw me for a loop. But yes, cereal had existed for decades by that point, though based on my research (see above), they didn’t advertise with animal mascots like the owl in Robbie’s ref. A lot of ads just had illustrations of consumers enjoying the food or holding up the package, along with a paragraph or two explaining why this brand is the best choice. (And yeah, I know Cream of Wheat’s not cereal, but it’s breakfast food so I’m counting it.) If you want to be historically accurate, understand that companies back then had very different approaches to branding from how they handle it today.

Speaking of accuracy, I’m no historian but I’m pretty sure Edwardian folks wouldn’t use the terms “asexual” or “transgender” to describe themselves. Not sure if you’ve written these labels into your story’s dialogue, but it’s worth mentioning just in case. Also, I’m not sure what the blue and white flag represents-? I searched all over for it but didn’t get any results. The placement next to the ace flag led me to believe it was some kind of pride thing, but even the more exhaustive lists didn’t include it. Some clarification would be nice. 

Robbie’s description says he’s “very gender conforming” yet he squeals when he’s pleased? Wouldn’t that be considered a pretty effeminate thing to do? I’ve never heard of a single “man’s man” who’d (voluntarily) raise his voice to such a high pitch on a regular basis. Just sayin’, you’ll want to be sure your descriptions are consistent. I also did a double take at the fact that he’s nearly a full foot taller than Shaq, but depending on the average height for this species in this time period, it might be easier to buy. (Fyi, the average height for men who turned 18 in the Edwardian era was around 5′4″, and even shorter in previous years.)

Now for the redlines:

Something I noticed consistently in these drawings was a lack of body structure, as if the character’s outlines were drawn first without an understanding of internal volume or how things fit together. There’s also a tendency to draw characters’ eyes on the sides of their heads, as if they’re fish rather than dogs. A carnivorous land mammal would have front-facing eyes that resemble wedges in profile. If the characters have a solid construction, it’ll be easier to build on it when dealing with symbolic motifs and such.

About those motifs, it helps to gather photo reference of whatever you’re trying to represent in the design, and get a sense of the shapes and colors that comprise it.

It also really helps to get specific. We already know Robbie’s associated with barn owls, but Shelley and Susan are more open ended. If each of them had to pick one (maybe two) species of amphibian/lizard or shelled creature as their favorite, which would it be? Or, which species most closely resemble their own personalities? Narrowing the field to one or two animals will help focus your research.

The next step is figuring out which elements you want to use, and where. This depends on how subtle or overt you want the symbolism to be.

Basically, the more cells you check off in a chart like the one above, the more noticeable the symbolism will be. If you want to use only shapes or only colors, or only use symbolism in the accessories and body, for example, you’re free to do so. It’s also important to note that symbolism in certain locations in the design will be more noticeable than in others. Let’s say you wanted to use a crablike orange for Shelley. If you used it to color a small accessory (like her bracelet), the tie-in would be pretty subtle. But if you used it to color her face, the place on a character our eyes are most drawn to, it’d stand out like a neon sign. 

There’s a sliding scale of subtlety in individual parts, as well. It’s up to you to decide how closely you want them to resemble the original source. Here’s what happened when I experimented with the doggos’ ears, with the resemblance ranging from subtle to overt:

It’s all relative to what feels right for the character. Hope this helps!

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass. 

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.

[inkandpen22]

Dazed and Confused (S1: 2/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild langage 

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: After Steve spends the night at Y/N Jonathan Byers accuses Y/N of getting too close to her best friend’s boyfriend

Masterlist

I wake up to a banging on my door. It sounds like an uncontrollable jackhammer. 

“Y/N! Oh Princess Y/N!” My mom screeches on the other side. “Wake up! You have to pick up Dustin in thirty minutes!” 

The last bit grabs my attention. My eyes fly open and I attempt to sit up but I’m pinned down. My head whips to the side and Steve is sound asleep next to me. His arm is draped across my stomach keeping me pinned. In a rush, I shove him off of me and fly out of bed. Steve wakes up abruptly and falls off the mattress onto the floor with a thud. 

“Shit!” He blurts out. 

“What was that?” My mom asks worriedly. 

Wide-eyed, I stare down Steve who peers up at me from the floor. 

“I’m just getting ready! I’ll be out in five!” I shout to my little brother. 

Thankfully, I hear him patter off as he grumbles various curse words under his breath. 

I must look like a crazy lady as I run around my room getting ready. My hair is going in a ponytail today because there’s no way I have time to style it. Steve moves about me, collecting his things. It’s Friday so that makes picking out an outfit rather easy. It’s game day, so cheer uniform. I start changing from my pajamas into my cheer uniform. I hop on one leg as I remove my shorts and rush to grab my skirt off my dresser. As I slip off my t-shirt and change into my vest, I check my appearance in the mirror on my dresser. 

Behind me, Steve eyes me curiously. He appears in some sort of wide-eyed daze. 

I whip my head around to check on him. “You okay?” 

He hums absentmindedly. Then, he shakes his head repeatedly to snap how of it. “Yeah! Uh… it’s just… um… you…” he stammers, “uh…. Nevermind! I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says as he goes to climb out of my window. 

“Okay? Catch ya later.” I laugh, wondering why he’s acting so odd. 

He’s such a goofball. I wonder if it’s because I freaked him out when I woke him up. Oh well, he scared me last night so karma. 

________________________________________

Once we arrive at school, Dustin runs off to join the boys who have all agreed to dress as the Ghostbusters for school. Since the Demogorgon incident, Dustin and I have grown closer. We live on the same block and being only children help. 

Nancy isn’t at her locker when I arrive at my own, odd. What’s even weirder is Jonathan is waiting for me. 

“Hey,” I greet him with a raised brow. 

It’s not that I dislike Jonathan, we’re simply not close friends. Sure, we had a bonding experience last year but he and I are very different people. 

“Hey,” he stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. “Have you… uh… have you seen Nancy?” 

Interesting, Byers looking for Nancy. If this were any other day she would be here beside me and I wouldn’t be standing here with Jonathan but apparently, today isn’t going to be average. 

“Nope, I haven’t. I was wondering where she is myself. Usually, she’d be here by now,” I fill him in on the lastest as I put the combination into my locker. 

“Well if you see here will you tell her I have something for her?” He requests. 

“Is it your love confession?” I tease. 

“Huh?” He acts oblivious to what I mean. 

“Oh please, it’s clear as day you have a thing for Nance," I snicker as I pull out my books. "I’ve known since Steve and I showed up at your house last year.” I glance over my shoulder at him and it’s evident I’ve spooked him. My bluntness tends to have that effect on people. "Look,” I say gently and quietly between us. “I won’t say anything. I understand that she’s with Steve. So, you feel like there’s no point but it’s important to say how you feel and be honest.” 

"Just like how you’re honest with Steve about having a thing for him?” He boldly fires back. 

I scoff, he’s delusional! Me and Steve, really? There’s no way! I laugh, “I don’t have a-” 

“Really? Yesterday in the gym?” He challenges.

His question, more like a threat, takes me by surprise. What, so Jonathan is watching me now? He’s eavesdropping on my conversations? 

 “How about over the summer?” He presses further, stepping closer until he towers over me. “You two were together more than he and Nancy ever were! How about this morning when I was on my way to school and saw him climbing out of your window? Hm? How about that?” 

Okay, now I’m just getting pissed. “I can assure you, Steve loves Nancy!” I growl. “There’s is nothing, and I mean nothing, between us! Now I suggest you stop acting like a tough guy before I remind you who really holds all the power here,” I threaten him. 

He forgets that I’m the captain of the cheer squad. I’m adored around here. He’s some punk who hangs out all day in the photography classroom. If he really wishes to test me, I can promise I will win. I always win. 

“Fine then…” he mutters, mere inches from my face. “But remember, I could easily tell Nancy about last summer.” 

He steps back with narrowed eyes locked on me until he turns around to slip away. I watch, stunned, as he disappears into the cluster of students traveling about the hall. A bit disturbed, to say the least, I lean back against the lockers to catch my breath. 

I don’t like Steve, that’s crazy! Steve… Steve and I… we’re just friends, really good friends, best of friends! Jonathan is psychotic and tossing out random ideas to get a rise out of me. All we did was hang out over the summer! He was already dating Nancy, my oldest friend! I would never ever betray her like that! Screw Byers. 

________________________

After last period, I return to my locker to pack up my homework. As I’m packing up my stuff, Nancy pops up next to me all distraught. She’s shaky and appears frightened, the same way she did when fighting the Demogorgon. 

“Nance? Nancy, what’s wrong? What happened?”  I ask her repeatedly, already worried.

She scans the area, making sure no one is watching us. Swiftly, she pulls into the girls bathroom. 

I stumble inside, immediately checking the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I determine the coast is clear, I spin around to face her. 

Her arms are wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. She swallows hard, her glazed eyes meet mine in fear. “I saw Barb!” She whispers as though she’ll be struck for doing so. 

That’s impossible. We left Barb in the Upside Down. She’s gone. She’s dead. 

“You what?” I shake my head in disbelief, pacing away from her. 

“In the library!” She explains, "I saw her! She called out for us! She said this wasn’t me! She said you were hiding! Pretending!” 

Now frightened, I whip my head around to face her directly. I note the hint of hope in her eyes that’s overpowered by guilt. I mourned Barb. We all did. I’m sorry for her parents, I am truly, but everyone is right! There’s nothing we can do! What’s done is done! All we can do is move on and live our lives! 

I refuse to relive the endless guilt, depression, and anxiety that consumed me for months on end. I felt like a shell of a human for almost a year after what happened. I can’t do this. 

“I have to go to drive Dustin home,” I announce. 

Quickly, I cross the room toward the door. I have to get out of here. This is nonsense. 

Nancy grabs my wrist before I pass her, “But Y/N-”

I yank my arm free from her grip, “goodbye Nancy!” 

Shaken for the second time today, I storm out of the bathroom and hurry toward the exit. I grip the handle of my purse, unable to control my shaky hands. Tears coat my eyes and threaten to slip down my cheeks. 

Flashbacks of that horrid night take over my train of thought. I see it clear as day. All of the blood, the sting from my arm, the pressure of that monster pinning me down. Everything I’ve been suppressing demands to be felt again. I’m living in my own personal Hell. 

As I push through the doors to the parking lot, the bright sunlight blinds me for a second. People cluster outside the school in their cliques. I weave between them, eager to get to my car and fly home. I can’t allow anyone to see me like this. I’m the strong one. I have my life together. I can’t break. 

In the distance, Dustin leans against the passenger door waiting for me. I keep telling myself that I’m almost there, just a couple of steps more. 

“Y/N-” Someone grabs my shoulder to stop me. 

Caught off guard and already distraught, I gasp and my bag slips from my shoulder to the pavement. 

I peer up to see Steve eyeing me with such compassion that I nearly slip and start sobbing. I wish I could tell him everything zooming through my mind but I can’t, it’s not his burden to bear. 

Urgently, he gathers my bag off the ground and places it on my shoulder. His hand lingers on my forearm, rubbing up and down comfortingly. I attempt to hide my shakiness by crossing my arms tightly. 

“You’re upset,” he states the obvious but I know he means well. “Are you alright?” 

I hum, nodding my head repeatedly. If I attempt to speak my voice may crack and then he’ll never let me go. Please Steve, I understand that you’re checking on me and I know you truly care but please let me go. 

“What is it?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he shifts on his heels. “Is it about Nancy? She was speaking about Barb earlier. Did she confront you about it? If it is I-” 

“Y/N!” Dustin shouts over to us impatiently. 

For once, I won’t argue with him about interrupting me. “I have to go,” I mumble under my breath and rush off before Steve has the chance to object. 

Once I’m a few feet away from Dustin, he notices my state and instantly climbs into the car without any questions. 

After I toss my bag into the backseat and move up front, I take a moment to gather myself and blast some music before I start driving. 

“Shitty day?” Dustin finally breaks the silence. 

Rubbing my temples, I snicker, “to put it simply.” 

He sighs, “Yeah, me too. First, all of the little assholes at school decide not to dress up this year. My guess is they all formed a pact and kept us out of it. It was all pretty embarrassing. Then, there’s this new girl, Max, smoking’ hot, but thinks she’s cooler than everyone else. Lucas likes her too… We followed her around for a little bit but then… well shit… she was onto us. Do you wanna talk about your day?” He offers to listen. 

I shake my head and open my eyes. Exhaling deeply, I grip the wheel and prepare to go. “No, because if I do then it will lead down a dark road that I don’t wish to travel ever again.” 

Dustin respects my silence and he talks most of the way home. I appreciate him not forcing me to speak about the horrors of today. Right now, I much rather listen and be distracted. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while. At least tonight is the party. I could really use some mindless fun, risky shenanigans, and most importantly, booze. 

________________________________

Masterlist

[adorethedistance]

Distraction - Alex Turcotte x Reader High School!AU

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 1544

Summary: Alex Turcotte is utterly smitten with the girl from his history class and his teammates are not helpful when it comes to playing wingmen.

A/n: Hey y’all I don’t even simp for this mf tbh but alas I’ve written a tiny little blurb about him. I think this’ll be the first hockey fic I have that’s about an American lmao. this piece kinda sucks but I wanted to post something for y’all bc I’m having a very minor block rn.

Alex Turcotte had never fallen for anyone in his life.

“Girls are a distraction from making pro,” he claims.

And he was right: Y/n Y/l/n was a total distraction.

Each and every day his mind is consumed by her. One moment, it's her pensive face in art class, the next, her laugh in the halls, or her casual tone as she explains something to him in history.

At the beginning of the school year, he didn’t know her very well, but when his history teacher had assigned Alex, Y/n, and her best friend to share a desk, he’d picked up on a few things as the months went by. The first thing he’d learned was how many people lived in her household from the chaos she woke up to for the first day of school. The second, how many hours of sleep she gets on average, based on how often she’d slump down into her seat with the declaration that she was “exhausted”. Next, how much Y/n and her friend love movies, her because she enjoys analysis of filmmaking, and her friend because she’s a crier. Once October arrived, he learned her favorite hockey team and how well they’d been performing last year (granted, he already knew how they were doing, but it was different from her). And most recently, he’d learned that she worked in the Hollister at the primary mall kids would flee to at the sound of the dismissal bell; he’d accidentally on purpose used this information to stalk her on more than one occasion.

Trying to focus on drills during practice, he would only ever be able to focus on the way they had brushed hands when reaching for papers, or how she’d smiled at him if he’d asked an intentionally stupid question. Each tiny little detail about her, no matter how insignificant, would sit at the forefront of his mind for days on end. It was very annoying.

And on top of that, Alex wasn’t nearly as slick as he believed himself to be. It didn’t take long for all his friends to realize he was becoming completely useless, and it took them an even shorter amount of time to realize why. The endless heart-eyes and random questions that were extremely out of character for their friend, like ‘you guys want to go to hollister later?’. Alex Turcotte was blatantly and utterly lovesick.

However, his friends had yet to figure out who with. That is, until everyone was let out for lunch one fateful November afternoon.

“Dude, just tell us who it is, we’re gonna find out eventually!” The usually easy going and agreeable Cole Caufield pesters his friend as they talk over the chatter of Plymouth High’s cafeteria during lunch time.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alex’s closed off-ness as of late isn’t cutting it with his boys; Trevor decides to shoulder check him just ‘cause. The dark-haired, hopeless simp turns to his friend, offended, but smiling regardless. The abrupt action escalates and the two begin roughhousing on the cool plastic of the lunch table benches. In the flurry of grabbing and shoving and messing up of hair, Moynihan intervenes to grab their attention,

“Ay, yo, Turcs.” They both turn their attention to their friend, and Alex feels his mouth run dry as he recognizes the heather grey hoodie with their school logo on the front. Y/n Y/l/n stands casually in front of the boys of team USA with a disinterested expression. Alex is quick to break out of his trance and immediately focuses all his attention on the shorter girl in front of him.

“Hey, Y/n. What’s up?” Alex asks in a much higher voice register than he intended, which doesn’t go unnoticed by his teammates; they all begin exchanging mischievous and smug looks, unbeknownst to Alex.

“I still have your pen. From history,” she says coolly as she fishes the item out of her sweatshirt pocket. Before she can extend the pen to him, Alex jumps to contest the gesture.

“You can keep it if you want.”

“That’s okay-”

“You sure? I really don’t mind.” The kind sparkle in his dark eyes plus his eager tone almost makes Y/n hesitate, but she shakes the idea and hands it to him anyway.

“It’s not that good of a pen.” At Y/n’s statement, Cole begins cackling and she merely stares at him, confused. Alex can practically feel a cold sweat and looming terror overtake his body at the realization that Cole, among his other teammates, have caught on to his little crush. Busted.

Alex looks back at the blasé girl before him, and takes the gel pen from her outstretched right hand, doing so less than inconspicuously. He brushes fingertips with her, despite her hand being at the opposite end of the pen. She nods an uncomfortable and indifferent goodbye at the awkward exchange, and turns on her heel to go have lunch with her own friend group. It isn’t until her figure disappears into the crowd that Alex is broken out of his trance by the sounds of his teammates dying with laughter.

“Oh, hey Y/n. What’s up?” Trevor impersonates Alex talking in his higher register at which Cole immediately joins in.

“Oh, hey Alex. I have your shitty pen that you threw at me in history,” he responds, pretending to be a version of Y/n that would only ever exist in Alex’s head.

“No, keep it, Y/n. Let it be a symbol of our love.”

“Oh, Alex, you're so romantic!” Trevor and Cole, in unintentional synchronization, lean in as if they’re about to kiss before breaking character and joining their teammates in a laughter harder than conceivably possible.

“Fuck off.”

“I guess we don’t have to go all mission impossible after all,” Jack sighs through a few stray tears of laughter. Alex gives him a pointed look and Jack can’t help but laugh a bit more before asking, “Seriously though?”

“What?”

“Y/n Y/l/n?”

“What about her?”

“It’s never gonna happen.” Jack shatters Alex’s dreams of romance in a single statement. His face falters slightly before he feigns some confidence by asking,

“Why not?” The laughter that had just died picks up again with a few scattered giggles around the table. Moynihan, being the only one who is no longer laughing, interjects,

“Why not? Did you not see any of that conversation? She could be less impressed with you.”

“Isn’t she kind of a bitch?” Someone asks.

“No, that's Y/n Domiento, not Y/n Y/l/n.” Another person replies in gentle defence. At the mention of her name, Alex’s attention centers on the sidebar he recognizes to be Cam York and Spencer Knight.

“I mean, she’s kind of a bitch too sometimes.”

“Okay enough!” Alex yells over all the chatter of his friends. “No more talking about her.”

“Why? Are you worried she’ll hear?”

“Is it because you’re in love with her?”

“Shut up, all of you.”

“Turcs. How long have you liked her?” Spencer asks sympathetically, without a shred of laughter in his voice. The dark-haired boy ponders the question for a minute before shrugging without a definitive answer. The considerate goalie gives Alex an unamused look to which his friend doesn’t understand. “Go talk to her. Right now.”

“What? No.”

“Do it right now,” Spencer pushes.

“No.”

“Go ask her out or I’ll do it.” Alex’s heart beats a little faster at the thought of all the terrible ways in which his friend could reveal his crush, and before he has a chance to think twice, he’s pushing up out of his seat and marching after the impassive girl.

Once he reaches the edge of her table, the conversation she’d been having with her friends came to a sudden halt. They all look at him bewildered, regardless of whether or not they had ever shared a class with him. Alex stands frozen to his post for a solid few seconds after realizing that he has no game plan.

“Uhm, hey Alex,” Y/n’s most outgoing friend greets him with confusion.

“Hey. Uh, Y/n, could I talk to you for a sec?” The impervious girl glances at her friends as a silent request for permission. When they nod softly and offer a few looks suggesting ‘why not?’, she stands from her seat, tucking her hands into the front pocket of her heather-grey sweatshirt donning the school’s mascot and name on the front.

“What’s up?” She asks nonchalantly after they’ve created a decent enough distance from her table of friends. If it weren’t for the tight feeling in his chest, Alex might have laughed at the contrast of how anxious he is and how relaxed his crush is.

“So… uh.” There’s no game plan, is it even possible to try and play it cool at this time? “I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?” Alex says so quickly, it takes Y/n a second to process what the hell he had even said. She blinks once, then twice before allowing herself to smile politely.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Turcs,” She pokes fun at his team nickname, “Sounds like fun.”

***

[the-glorious-evolution-fanart]

What are your least favorite parts of the 2016 lore rework? And if you had the power to remove/change those parts, how would you go about doing so?

The parts I like the least are those which alter Viktor's personality either without good reason or to illogical behaviour!

Maybe someone thinks it's cool to give Viktor an amazing wunderkind status by having him revolutionize Zaun's industry before he even enters college. Before age 19. In my opinion that's an overkill because it does nothing to hype up his actual achievements. Guess what, his inventions becoming apparently widespread in Zaun are never mentioned again in 2016. lore. Which means that bit was added just for flair and instantly forgotten. And it was added for only one other reason:

To show how Viktor apparently since birth didn't like human errors and viewed them as inferior for some reason. This was never present in his original characterisation. Why did the writers put this in 2016. lore? Did they think that was a logical reason to *explain* why Viktor turned himself into a machine? But not only does this undermine Viktor's original character, it also forgets that he actually had a very well defined reasons why he originally became the Machine Herald - it was a means to an end for him. He built his inventions into himself to prove his brilliance and to ensure credit for them could not be stolen again. Was this deemed too complex of a reason for average League player to understand by the 2016. writers? I don't know and I have no insight. I can only speculate.

2016. lore takes every opportunity to show how strange Viktor was, how he detested human involvement in systems and avoided "uncertainty". This in my fully honest opinion is a very poor reason why he would turn into the Machine Herald. Blitzcrank gained sentience, something characteristic for humans, the very thing which Viktor is supposed to dislike in 2016. lore. Yet he tries to replicate Blitzcrank's sentience (and fails.) Remember, in 2016. lore he didn't even create it, it arose from a Brackern crystal. Remember his wunderkind status? Yeah I guess that's out the window. The character handling is lopsided and it doesn't move into good development for Viktor.

It moves him into a full villain with good intentions, depending on how you'd define his intentions.

2016. lore has him consider removing free will from humans a good thing for them. He doesn't experiment on himself first; he experiments on dying patients (granted to try to save them, but giving this reason still clashes with his overall depiction making it feel like it's just what the narrator is insisting.) And in the end he gives kill orders and sends drugged thugs and robots to ransack Jayce's lab with disregard for human life. Then this is contradicted by how well mannered he is towards Naph, the kid in his colour story. But I'd like to point out how Silco in Arcane also acted nice to little Powder when he found her, viewing her as a tool for future use. The fact that he ended up viewing her as his daughter is another thing.

It's a mystery if Viktor can catch feelings in 2016. lore and that's touted as the prime angst target. What do we see in original lore Viktor however? Anger, frustration, pride, happiness. He never removed his own emotions, that's a false reading in my opinion. He was rid of what he perceived as his emotional weaknesses - he was no longer shaken, depressed to the point of self-isolation and so on.

And lastly there's Jayce. A character so irrelevant to Viktor's own story that he didn't even exist when Viktor was made x) I personally am not a fan of friends to bitter enemies as it's overdone in media I consume, but more importantly it eats away precious focus. It drags the reader into wondering about "will they won't they" about Jayce and Viktor, and kicks all the fundamental characteristics of Viktor's person somewhere into a dark corner. This is not good.

~

In essence, if I could I would just stick to original lore. 2016. lore merged Piltover and Zaun and forced Zaun to just be Piltover’s slums. As consequence I think most of their champions suffered to become vessels just to support this worldbuilding. But if I had to salvage the 2016. lore, I’d remove any descriptions saying Viktor viewed human involvement as problematic. I’d remove him obsessively working as a child. I’d have him still attend Zaun’s college of techmaturgy then as a transfer student meet Jayce in Piltover. Later as a PhD student back in Zaun create Blitzcrank, suffer a mental breakdown because Pididly stole credit and none of Viktor’s colleagues stood on his side to verify. In the end Viktor would become the Machine Herald and then start helping unfortunate Zaunites. I would remove his patients dying, his technology being described as only for the desperate. He would enter conflict with Jayce because Jayce refused to give him the arcane crystal.

[n1kolaiz]

"Man fears death and yet, at the same time, man is drawn to death. Death is endlessly consumed by men in cities and in literature. It is a singular event in one's life that none may reverse. That is what I desire."

Character Analysis: Dazai Osamu

Age: 22 || Ability: No Longer Human

I've done a lot of research concerning Dazai's character because of how complex he'd initially appeared to me. It is still a question as to what his personality type is; some say he's an ENTP while others argue that he's an INTJ, and his enneagram would most likely be 7w8 (The Realist), but that isn't the thing I'm going to focus on.

According to general databases and fan analyses, his temperament is dominantly melancholic. A person's temperament is basically how they react to and live in this world. For those of you not interested in such details, don't worry, I'll get to my point.

The melancholic behaviour is characterised by individualism, self-reliance, and reservation. People of the melancholic temperament are described as having been overcome with sorrow and depressive thoughts, which is beyond the feeling of "just being sad."

Nonetheless, they are generally calm beings, with a tendency to hide how they truly feel by keeping their composure, even in events that demand severe reaction otherwise. Other aspects of melancholic temperaments is that they are absorbed in the cruelty and tragedy of this world, and tend to get lost in their thoughts.

Sound familiar?

Dazai is seen to be as the comic relief of the adaptation, and he'd never fail to bring about a sense of lightheartedness to relieve the serious moments; we all know that for sure. Remember the time both him and Kunikida found Nobuko Sasaki in that godforsaken hospital, and how Kunikida asked him about his opinion on the current state of affairs?

But, despite having developed a calm and serene personality, Dazai's dark side was more apparent during the Dark Era. There was a type of intimidating and arrogant flair evident in his behaviour, or even on his face. It was the type of demeanour that came off cold and terrifying to the rather unlucky people he dealt with. In a moment's notice, they could literally die by his hands. And I believe most of them usually did. It was during this time, he was more brutal and vicious. He lacked remorse. Plus, Dazai's suicidal ideations were more dense during this Era, and his suicidal tendencies did not do anything to alleviate the depth of how dark his character was posed to be.

Side note: Unfortunately, people misunderstand this 'depressed' part of Dazai; they minimise his character so much to the point that people use only a single word to describe him: suicidal. He is, in fact, so much more than that. I'll elaborate more on that in a while.

"Hey, Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia? I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence—close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that… I would be able to find something—a reason to live."

Dazai's approach to life is that of an aimless soul, weary of the world's oppressions and exhausted from the concept of living itself. Nevertheless, what he said above about having an expectation made me realise something: he had a goal, which he wasn't that enthusiastic about achieving—seeking for a reason to carry on with life. So he joined the Mafia.

And there, he met Oda Sakunosuke.

Despite how resilient Dazai carried himself to be (especially during the Dark Era), this specific excerpt stands in direct opposition of how he effortlessly embodied all things daunting:

"With every step I take, I feel as though the earth has opened up into a bottomless pit as I fall endlessly. As Dazai pointed to his forehead and approached the muzzle, the look on his face – like that of a child about to burst into tears – had already been branded upon my eyes."

- quoted by Oda Sakunosuke, excerpt from Dazai Osamu and the Dark Era Light Novel.

When I read this, it sent my mind into a spiral of despair and confusion. It was so vague, yet it made so much sense. Dazai was desperate to escape from this life, but part of him seemed to live in conflict with his desire for death. I won't elaborate more on this, because this specific excerpt has personal meaning to me, as I'd expect it to have for others as well; so I wouldn't want to ruin anyone else's perception on it.

Back to my point: Odasaku was one of the only characters who managed to interpret the complexity of Dazai's mindset and was able to compartmentalise the specific details of his persona that made Dazai the way he was. Oda knew that Dazai wasn't just suicidal.

"For most things in life, it's harder to succeed than fail. Wouldn't you agree? That's why I should attempt suicide rather than commit it! Committing suicide is difficult, but it should be relatively easier to fail at attempting suicide!"

Others boasted about how he was just a suicidal maniac, and that was only because of how good Dazai was at concealing his own feelings whilst flamboyantly priding himself in new, risky techniques, which he sometimes elaborated on. But Oda, on the other hand, saw through his jokes, and empathised with his friend, never wanting to ever barge into his vulnerability without Dazai's permission, but still trying to be there for him.

"Listen. You told me if you put yourself in a world of violence and bloodshed, you might be ale to find a reson to live. You won't find it. You should know that. Whether you're on the side that takes lives or the side that saves them, nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

Notice how Odasaku recognised Dazai's despair, before Dazai even dared to acknowledge his very own emotions? That was why, at Oda's death, he took the initiative to uncover Dazai's bandaged eye to show him that there was no use in concealing his feelings anymore.

Odasaku's last words to Dazai was to "be on the side that saves people," for he was aware that even though Dazai didn't believe there was a clear distinction between good and evil, he thought that perhaps Dazai would find meaning in his life, even if it was just a little bit of purpose.

In Dead Apple, we briefly relive this moment, but I'll write more on that some other time.

And when Dazai joined the ADA, he loses that dark side to him. No, wait, let me rephrase that: he loses a part of that dark side to him. He eliminated the raw sense of bitterness against the world from his face, and instead, he is seen to be a little more passive, and a little more adaptive. No doubt, he still does explicitly state his desire to die, but his wishes are very specific, if you know what I mean.

And a few years later, his journey with Atsushi began.

Atsushi and Dazai's relationship is just one of a kind. I think it isn't a matter of whether Atsushi needed Dazai, or whether Dazai needed Atsushi. It's the fact that they both needed each other. It's the way they both worked hand in hand, and how they sustained each other in ways they were lacking.

The two were polar opposites, but they had a tender kind of warmth embedded in their protectiveness for each other. Atsushi was just as lost as Dazai, but somehow, they worked together just fine. It was like their duality was meant to be. It was the type of symbiotic relationship, where their care for each other was implied, but very deep.

Does this also sound familiar... perhaps, in relation to Dazai's friendship with Odasaku?

Side note: Oda and Atsushi have the same enneagrams, which is Type 2, 'The Helper.'

There is a sort of balance that is brought about by two opposites. Odasaku taught Dazai many things, and I believe Oda learned a lot about a man's life from the way Dazai lived out his life with the innate desire to die. Atsushi sought for the right to live, while Dazai searched for a reason to live; in addition, Dazai validated Atsushi's feelings, and Atsushi was able to acknowlegde the amount of pain Dazai was going through.

Despite how Dazai's perspectives and beliefs stood in contrast with those of Oda's and Atsushi's, a type of inseparable bond connected the man who no longer felt like he was human, to the people who was the most human.

No Longer Human in the Japanese romaji is 'Ningen Shikkaku.' Ningen means "human," and Shikkaku means "disqualified." The late author, Dazai Osamu, wrote the book No Longer Human. He had gone through the rough throes of trauma and wrote this book as a semi-autobiography, whose plot was centred around a man who faked happiness, for he was tainted by the truth that everyone around him was fake themselves. He turned his life into a joke in order to protect himself from the delusions of this world.

This brings us back to the melancholic temperament, where a person was too deeply immersed in the sad truths of reality and the world itself.

And that's what Dazai's character and ability is based on: being disqualified as a human being, because he wasn't well-versed with what being human was actually like. The fabrications of being human sprung up all around him, but he wasn't willing to be fooled by how ingenuine the world truly was.

“I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of their kind—of people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any wounds being inflicted, of people who seem unaware even that they are deceiving one another.”

- excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

People who don't feel human emotions or don't react to circumstances the way humans do have a variety of ways of explaining how they feel inhuman. They are highly intelligent, which separates them from the average class of humankind, since they've analysed and untangled the truths of life in order to attain understanding, which they value above all else. But, this understanding of the world and its painful truths results in a deep kind of sorrow, which only a few people can seem to empathise with in order to help them out with that burden.

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”

-excerpt from Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment.

Don't you think that this deep sorrow that lies in the heart of the intelligent, makes them the most human of all? They're too human, to the point where they don't feel human. Perhaps, it is a type of defence mechanism, where the mind numbs the heart from feeling normal human emotion, because logically breaking down such concepts is easier than feeling them. But it comes at a price. The heart is willing to recklessly comprehend and fathom any sort of emotion, including pain in its true form, but the mind bears more pain in understanding such concepts because it seeks to decipher every single agonising detail of how complex human emotions are. The mind thinks, the heart feels. There is a clear distinguishing factor between the two. Whether feeling hurts more than thinking, or thinking hurts more than feeling, or whether both these processes work hand-in-hand to make up the reality of life itself, is up for an individual to decide.

Only a few people can seem to empathise with intelligent people who are deeply sad at heart, in order to help them out. As for Dazai, it was Atsushi and Oda. They never took away the pain, but they made him grow from it; it worked vice versa, too.

Of course, there are less tedious and more appealing aspects to the concept of Dazai's intelligence. Dazai was seen as a threat to his enemies because of how manipulation and his keen skill of deduction made up how sharp his mind was. Besides, no one could commit '138 murders, 312 cases of extortion, and 625 cases of fraud, along with various and sundry other crimes,' without having a certain level of intelligence, right?

Dazai had the moral alignment of 'chaotic neutral.' He was more focused on using his intellect to achieve the desired end results of a predicament, and he wasn't afraid to use the wrong means. A famous example was when he deflated the airbags of Ango Sakaguchi's car in order to gain the assured protection of Kyouka Izumi.

Justice is a weapon. It can be used to cause harm, but it cannot protect or save others.

Another example was when he blew up Chuuya Nakahara's car.

Just kidding. That was just a simple pastime (；・∀ ・)

His moral alignment points to what Oda said about him: the part where he mentioned that Dazai didn't really see any difference between good and evil. As long as his ends were achieved, especially if it were in the benefit of his fellow colleagues, he wasn't afraid to exploit, threaten, or endanger others' wellbeing. Because, at the end of the day, the end result triumphed the morally bad methods utilised to achieve it, correct? He always had a reason for his motives and actions, even if those actions were evil and inexcusable.

(eg. action: the psychological abuse he bestowed upon Akutagawa Ryunosuke.

motive: to enable him to hone his own ability favourably and to curb his arrogance)

But the consequences of one's actions will always catch up with a person, no matter what heights they've achieved.

Okay, we're reaching the end of my rambling very soon, I promise.

“If I had to go, I’d like to go out just as beautifully.”

“I’d prefer you don’t go.”

This part of the post is highly inspired by iwachuwu!!

An important factor of Dazai's development is highlighted BSD Wan's episode 10:

I'd like to appreciate that this scene focuses on how much Dazai actually means to Atsushi. When Atsushi responds with "I'd prefer you don't go," he said it lightheartedly for he thought Dazai was joking. But he wasn't. And once Atsushi absorbed the fact that Dazai meant what he said, he was overwhelmed with anguish at the thought of ever losing Dazai. Dazai, on the other hand, had a sense of longing on his expression. There was that look of pure desperation on his face. He was so desperate, yet he knew he couldn't act on his desperation due to a promise he'd made to someone dear to him. But keep in mind, Dazai is unpredictable, so we can never be sure of what's going on in that headspace of his.

Nevertheless, this time, Atsushi recognised Dazai's suffering, as no one usually cared to do, and Dazai didn't put in any effort to hide how he truly felt, as he habitually did. And this mutual emotional connection happened countless times during all the times Oda spent with Dazai as well.

To summarise,

Dazai's character had been carefully wired and patterned out in a way only a few would put in the effort to understand. Dazai was more than just suicidal; he was a being wandering from place to place with no specific aim. He was too smart for his own good. Dazai understood too well of how the world worked and deemed it void of any sort of hope.

Side note: Yes, the truth does come at a price, but it all comes down to how a person understands the truth. As for Dazai (both character and the author he was based off upon), well, it was quite tragic. But that's the way it is for some people, I suppose. But everyone has a different path to travel on, remember that.

His transition from working with the Port Mafia to the Armed Detective Agency was proof of how well-executed his character development was. It was two different personas morphed into what he is today: a womaniser with questionable morals a person who is still standing even after the rough refining process endowed upon him by the realities of this life.

However, he had people along the way come and teach him a thing or two, which perhaps made his life a little more interesting. Perhaps these people were passing clouds that hid the void out of sight for just a moment, and Dazai was always seen to be grasping on to these moments, and letting them go whenever it was time to let go.

His outlook on life makes his intellect look all the more intriguing. It shows that not only does his intelligence contribute to his own wit and shrewdness, but also the practical sense of realism that explains how tired he is of the concept of living because of the truths there are to bear.

However he's enduring the pain right now is by far the most bravest thing a person could commit themselves to doing. It takes courage, and it takes strength, but only a few would ever take the time to recognise such efforts.

Dazai has one of the most beautiful character developments, but I do hope that the development doesn't reach its end anytime soon.

fanart credits: @S7dOZPN3jWBB6cW on twitter

“Now I have neither happiness nor unhappiness.

Everything passes.

That is the one and only thing that I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.

Everything passes.”

excerpt from Dazai Osamu's No Longer Human.

[happyreid187]

Beats working - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: ~2.5 K

Description: Reader’s friends finally make her go to a party, and force a certain genius to attend as well... 

Warnings: SMUT. Explicit, 18+ only! Not gender neutral. Oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, borderline degradation but not really. It’s sort of Dom!spence vibes but very soft. There is alcohol involved at the beginning but consent is made clear. I named the reader’s friends but they’re only mentioned twice so you can def fill that in with your own friends if you prefer :)

“Thank god, you workaholic bitch!” One minute into the party and Marley was already chastising you. Fair. Though you made time for brunches and wine nights, you had missed many of her signature parties. “I’m sorryyyy,” you sang, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m here now.” “Do you think they’ll survive without you for a night?” she giggled. “No, but I don’t really care. Point me in the direction of the alcohol?”

After some obligatory small talk, you found your way through the party to a slightly quieter area, leaning against the wall. You weren’t having a bad time exactly, but you were definitely reminded why you avoid these things. A tall, slim man made his way over, leaning next to you. You had seen him when he came in, having felt drawn to him immediately - he was greeted with similar fanfare, but by Marley’s boyfriend Ben, who lamented his absence at recent parties. You noticed him from the start, but as he stood closer to you, you really took him in, his messy chestnut hair and sharp jawline. He made your brain go dumb. He was, like... really pretty. He seemed shy, but still spoke first “You don’t really seem like a party person. I thought I was the only person they had to force to these things.” he chuckled. “Yeah, I find that I’m about a million percent - well that’s not a thing - a million times more charming one on one. These things make me quiet, and I’m not quiet.” “I love that you corrected yourself there,” he laughed for real this time, and you were weirdly proud of yourself for bringing it out of him. He seemed so stoic and anxious when he first walked in. “I totally relate - I’m usually dead silent at these things and normally people can’t get me to shut up, and...” he smiled at you, and butterflies overtook you “I think you’re plenty charming now.” 

It turned out he was the charming one, and he wasn’t so quiet after all. After brief introductions, he really opened up. You could see what he was saying about never shutting up as he rambled on and on, but you couldn’t understand why anyone would ever want him to stop talking. You could have listened to him all night, and you did. The hours flew by. You learned his name and title - he asked you to call him Spencer - how smart he is, and that his passion for his job mirrored your own. You learned a lot, listening to him talk, as he lamented the amount of germs at parties; how entirely disgusting he finds the proximity and amount of touching they inspire. Contrary to his words, he was sitting incredibly close to you, and you could feel his eyes on your lips. The feeling of this stranger’s eyes on you made you happy in a way you couldn’t explain. Maintaining his anti-party rhetoric, he started whining about how stupid it is to try to interact with people in a space where it’s too loud to hear oneself think. The space around you was deafening, and only getting worse, as the people around you got drunker while you two became progressively less so. The benefit of this was that it forced him to sit with his thigh against yours on the couch and say everything in your ear, like a secret. But having him that close gave you goosebumps, and you wanted him even closer.

“It is really loud. Do you wanna... maybe get out of here?” you nervously inquired. His eyes lit up at your suggestion as he started to shift to stand, but then a shyness crossed over his face. “Are you sure?” he replied, glancing at the beer in your hand. “Yes, yes I’m sure.” He looked unconvinced. “I’ve had two drinks in...” you glanced at your watch “four hours. I’ve barely been sipping this one.” He nodded knowingly, “Well, yeah, and considering the average person can metabolize roughly one drink per hour, and those have a relatively low alcohol content, your blood alcohol should be well below the legal limit for driving. I know you’re not drunk. But the whole time we’ve been talking you’ve been...” he paused. He looked nervous. “Uninhibited? Are you sure you want to leave here with me?” Your chest squeezed at the emphasis he placed on the last two words. He not only wanted to make sure you were fully able to want him, he seemed to question why you would. There was a lot to unpack there, so you pushed it from your mind. You would find myriad ways to reassure him of your desire after you left. Right now you just needed to get out of there, or you were going to suck face in the corner of your friend’s party, and you were both too old for that. You leaned in close, and spoke slowly placing excessive inflection on every single word, as if that would make him believe you. “I am absolutely certain that I want you.” Spencer seemed satisfied. He stood and grinned, pulling you to your feet.

You made your way out of the room swiftly, with him at your heels, his palm on the small of your back. He trailed behind you as you stepped out the door and through the frigid air, moving towards your car. You were too nervous to turn to look at him. Your thoughts turned to insecurity at the coffee cups, receipts, and work clothes that littered the floor and passenger seat. Before unlocking the door, you spun around to warn him, but before you could even open your mouth, his was on yours. As reserved as he had seemed inside, he wasn’t holding anything back now. His lips crashed against yours, bordering on violent, but it wasn’t messy. Your bodies seemed to know how to link, somehow. He grabbed your waist harshly, shoving you against the door. Leaving one hand with a tight grip on your waist, like you were going to slip from his grasp, he brought the other to the side of your neck, his touch surprisingly soft compared to the rest of him. He placed heavy kisses down your neck and along your collarbones. Without his mouth against yours, there was nothing to quiet you. “Oh my god, Spencer...” you gasped. You weren’t sure what you expected, but you hadn’t quite expected him to be so in charge - it was an extremely satisfying surprise. He pressed himself impossibly closer to you, that gentle hand ghosting down your spine and moving to cup your ass. His mouth returned to yours, probably to keep the rest of the party from hearing you, tongue moving with yours. 

“I thought you didn’t like to touch people,” you gasped with a smile as you pulled away dizzy, needing to catch your breath, though your desire to feel his lips felt stronger than your will to breathe. He snapped away from his powerful state for a moment, the lust fading from his eyes slightly and turning into something warmer, his gaze softening. “Oh I want to touch you,” he muttered, a grin tugging at the corners of his now pink, puffy lips. “I want to touch you,” he said again, both reassuring and frighteningly intense, the softness fading but still present “Like this,” his hand found it’s way to your reddened cheek, flushed from both him and the cold, running across you so lightly he was barely there. “And like this...” his other hand found its way from your waist to your breast, squeezing and eliciting a moan from you as he ran his thumb harshly across your nipple. The hand on your cheek simultaneously shifted to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him - as if you weren’t already. His eyes were dark again, and so fierce that you felt simultaneously consumed and overwhelmed. You fought the overwhelm, following his silent demand that you remain focused on his face. You would do anything he asked, with or without words. He returns your focus and leans in, voice deep and austere, crackling against your ear “And like this.” His hand slipped under your dress, cupping your pussy through the drenched lace. Spencer looked entirely elated. “Baby,” he started. You melted at the name. You were going to die. Your heart was going to explode through your chest, but there are worse ways to go. “You’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even started yet,” he muttered. He was so smug. “Were you this wet for me in there, sitting on our friends’ couch?” You didn’t think you would be able to speak, so the sound of your voice surprised you. “Yes. Just hearing you talk and feeling your eyes on me was enough to completely fucking wreck me.” Spencer didn’t seem to expect that answer, looking shocked and delighted, smiling as he pulled you in for a small kiss, chaste in comparison to the previous. “Mmm, well you’re going to have to be patient for me. As much as I want to fuck you right here, I don’t need anyone seeing you. Let’s get out of here.”

The drive was challenging, but quick. You were both grateful and frustrated that he didn’t try to tease you on the way. At least not much. His hand rested on your thigh through the ride, but he didn’t dare to move it. When you finally walked through the door of his apartment, he led you quickly to the bedroom. He had no interest in taking his time. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that made the room spin. You weren’t sure how you would survive him fucking you when his simplest touches overwhelmed you, but you were eager to find out. Too eager, you began grinding on his bulge, moaning into his mouth as your fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. “So impatient, aren’t you?” Spencer asked. “I just want you so bad, Spence.” you begged. You felt pathetic, but you didn’t care. “Good girls know how to wait for what they want. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” his voice was deeper than it had been all night, and it edged you even further “Yes. Yes. But please, please don’t tease me.” Your voice shook with emotion and arousal. His teasing was hot, but you needed him now. “We just walked in the door and you’re already begging for me? Either you’re a little slut or I must be really special.” he muttered against your lips. “You are. I’m desperate for you. Only for you.” He had been frustratingly quiet so far, but he moaned at your words now. Spencer shoved you against the bed and moved to hover over you, one hand beside you holding him up while the other made it’s way to where you needed him most. “You are so fucking wet for me. So responsive.” he kissed down your stomach, and you arched your back, moaning so loud you should have been worried about the neighbors, but you weren’t. Your brain was completely empty - all you could do was feel him. With his head nestled between your legs, he kissed your inner thighs, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You guessed he only wanted to mark you in places he alone could see. You hoped he knew he already owned your body - you were his already. You were already ruined and he wasn’t even fully undressed. “Such a good girl for me, y/n.” he breathed against you, before diving in. His mouth was too perfect, alternating between long laps and short flicks against your clit. After only a few minutes, you were already close, but it seemed so wasteful to finish on his tongue before even seeing the rest of him. You locked your fingers in his hair, pulling him off you “You don’t want me to continue?” he asked, insecure but somehow still dominant. “I want to cum on your cock, baby.” His hazel eyes grew wide at your words. “Please fuck me, Spencer. I need you.” You thought he would mock you for being so desperate, for begging, for needing him, but he seemed to return your need. 

With shaking hands, he unbuckled his belt, and you moved quickly to pull down his boxers. His dick was so pretty, flushed and ready for you. You started to pump him in your hands, but he quickly stopped him. “Not right now baby. I need to feel your pussy.” he was panting already. “Need to be inside you.” You laid on your back, as he moved over you. “Do I need a... “ he started, but you interrupted him, “I have an IUD, you’re good.” He looked relieved. He started kissing you again, but you made it difficult, gasping into his mouth as he moved his member up and down your folds. He pulled away from your mouth, looking at you for approval. “Fucking please.” He pushed into you immediately, slowly but all at once, pausing only when he had completely filled you. Again, he wasn’t as quiet as you might have originally expected, moaning loudly as he buried himself deep inside. He started moving, and quickly built to a rapid pace. Neither of you could be quiet, your moans filling the air as you tried and failed to call out his name. “Y/n,” he somehow groaned and whined at the same time, “you’re so fucking tight.” You couldn’t respond, too focused on the knot forming beneath him, trying to put off your release so that you could feel him just a little longer. 

“Spencer,” you managed, “you feel so good.” he groaned at your cry. He was even more vocal in response to your words than to your body, so you found your voice despite feeling completely inundated with pleasure. “You’re so good. I’m gonna be ruined for anyone else. No one else is this good,” you sung his praises, and it affected him exactly as you had hoped. His thrusts grew less controlled, slowing down somewhat as he said “Good. You’re mine. I - I want you to be mine.” His words nearly pushed you over the edge, but you wanted him to be ready first. “Fuck, I’m gonna - ah” you screamed, “I need you to cum with me baby, please please please” your cries were interrupted by your own orgasm, your muscles spasming around him as he came deep inside you. He relaxed on top of you, and stayed there for a while before finally pulling out. You weren’t ready to part from him yet, but fortunately he quickly returned with a t-shirt, and after cleaning up your collective mess pulled you into his arms, spooning you and placing gentle kisses on your face. Again, you weren’t sure what you had expected - it made sense that after being so desperate for your touch he would want to hold you after. But you remained surprise. Being this close to him felt like a miracle. Rather than questioning it, you settled into the comfort of being close to him, appreciating his arms around you. 

[shoichee]

ALSO CAN I ASK FOR SOME RANDOM GOM HCS U HAVE? like just random ones u have or if u want like some toxic hcs abt them :D

I’m assuming that I can include their negative traits of their personalities as well 👀 Also including Momoi in this… lots of analyzing for this hc, so I used my brain here pls appreciate AGAIN these are all headcanons/interpretations of possible toxic hcs about them and only a few are canon

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko is the hardest person to find a “negative/toxic” trait in, and it doesn’t seem like he has any

kind, understanding, hardworking, and compassionate; he’s everything a good-natured protagonist is

but he’s only like this to people/hobbies he cares about/close with; anything else he’s quite apathetic and also very passive/neutral about

the biggest hint to this is when Akashi criticizes Kuroko for cherry-picking who the GoMs should “go all out against” and who to casually toy with

and Akashi is absolutely correct

most of the series is portrayed through Kuroko’s perspective, and Akashi is the first direct outside perspective who comments on his actions/attitude

it’s obviously not that Kuroko didn’t “notice”... he clearly sees and knows what these GoMs are doing; after all, he had a conversation with Aomine about how observant he is to everything around him

of course, if you were close to him, all your opinions and issues matter to him

it’s the fact that what’s not really important to him is suddenly now important just because someone he knows is involved

just an example: if someone was advocating climate change, he has no opinion on it until someone he knows cares about the issue

in other words, he has a subtle hypocritical view on things, especially when he interacts with others

another clear negative trait could be that he’s too idealistic or perhaps naive, seeing things in a clear black-or-white picture and not necessarily a gray area

WE know, as an audience, that the GoMs honestly needed therapy and a proper adult to guide their out-of-control talents

but Kuroko, in his eyes, had viewed them as “bad” and “evil” in their ways of basketball until they changed after their respective matches

he’s probably someone who doesn’t yield to other opinions once he forms his own, and this may make him unable to consider things in other people’s perspectives

which is again, ironic: someone who doesn’t have generally a strong stance but once they do, it’s very unyielding, which further proves Akashi’s comment about Kuroko’s tendency to nitpick which to care about

a final hc about a potential flaw he might have here in a different ask!

Kise Ryota

y’all… it’s as canon as day that he has a mean side

straight from the author himself, it’s confirmed that Kise is only kind to those who he respects, and to the rest, he’s cold-hearted

in the manga, it’s very clear that he’s super judgmental on every first impression on people he meets, boxing them into categories based on the way they look, act, and speak

only when they surpass his preset expectations (low or high depends on his preliminary judgments of them) is when he opens his mind to the rest of their personality

this is a very close-minded way of thinking, and I hope I don’t need to explain why LOL

this can be interpreted as him being two-faced by the majority of the people in his school

his way of speaking can definitely be very cruel and crass, and to sensitive people, his words can easily shatter hearts

Kise’s negative/toxic traits are pretty straightforward here, so let’s move on

Midorima Shintarou

his harsh words can be considered a “negative” part of his personality, but I think it’s a lot more than just that

it’s confirmed in the series that he’s a bystander and almost always minds his own business

on one hand, one can say he’s self-driven and that he constantly strives for self-improvement

on the other, it can be interpreted as him being very dangerously ambitious and selfish, in which most actions he takes are for the sole reason of self-improvement and not for altruistic reasons

for example, when he helped Kuroko and Kagami in the training camp, it was under the reasoning that them becoming stronger would be a good challenge for himself to test and learn

that’s not to say that he can’t have friends, but most friendships he’s built are with capable people who can potentially provide him with some new beneficial skill/goal to strive towards

after all, he’s only learned to trust Takao as a friend only after seeing him as someone capable

because he’s so focused on himself, he’s extremely likely to turn a blind eye to injustice, most also likely to use Oha Asa to justify their “misfortunes” as he continues on his day

he’s not cold-hearted, but altruism comes by Midorima a lot rarer than the average person

now, we know that his Oha Asa aspect is used to balance his serious side as the “comedic side” of him, but if we really think about it, his obsessions with the horoscopes could be a huge obstacle in the future, where he may refuse to listen/depend on others in favor of his own intuition and the stars; after all, no one knows everything, and depending on the stars as one’s next source of advice and guidance isn’t a sound decision to commit themselves to

he seems like the person who overthinks and jumps to conclusions when it comes to social situations, but instead of confronting the person, he turns to fate and fortune if Takao isn’t near to help

Aomine Daiki

I wouldn’t be surprised if Aomine had a skewed sense of beauty standards from all those magazines he consumed and from being around Momoi for the majority of his life

of course anyone can distinguish pieces of media from reality, but during the most impressionable years of life, without experiencing other types of people and physiques, he would have limited knowledge on what “beauty” is and whatnot

this probably would be more of a problem in his adolescence than adult

a very given negative trait is his short temper plus his tendency to turn to physical violence when someone nags him to a certain point, seen with how he’s treated Wakamatsu in the beginning (though this seems to almost disappear by the end of the series)

what I’ve noticed in every scene he’s in, is that everything seems to revolve around him and his hobbies of basketball and Japanese idols

what I mean is that everytime we see Aomine, it’s always Momoi approaching to Aomine or just him always being the center of attention; never once has he approached Momoi for anything and it’s always been the other way around

in other words, people have to cater to him in order to get along with him/be in good graces (additional example: Imayoshi letting him do as he pleases to get him to be cooperative and participate in the games)

we’ve actually never seen Momoi’s hobbies outside of being a manager for her basketball teams and just anything basketball-related

he can be quite apathetic, choosing to only pay attention and try in things he’s interested in… which is basketball and those magazines

he seems to mature in the Last Game though, so I’m not quite sure to what extent these headcanons would apply to older Aomine (these also don’t really apply to Puremine)

Momoi Satsuki

the author probably also included this type of anime trope as comedy, but belittling another female for her body is definitely a no-go in reality; I feel like this is something most people gloss over really lightly

her body comments on Riko are actually what made me skeptical of her character at first before the show really shows her entire personality

that being said, it seems that she always takes the opportunity to look down on other girls (especially to those she is a stranger to) as a sort of “competition” when there’s boys around

definitely at certain moments, she screams a “pick-me girl” type of person (real phenomenon, you can search this up!)

while Kuroko doesn’t seem to actively mind this, I think she also has no good sense of boundaries and what’s considered appropriate touch and consent; people can chalk this up to “oh it’s just infatuation,” but this definitely isn’t okay if we really think about this

her life also seems to revolve around either Aomine or Kuroko, and based from that, I’d feel like she’d have a difficult time forming her own identity/life separate from her “manager life,” especially once she graduates from Touou

can definitely be interpreted as too clingy at certain moments, while others may think it’s her way of showing that she cares

Murasakibara Atsushi

most people would chalk up Murasakibara as “lazy,” and on the surface level, it does appear to look that way…

I think his true negative trait is that he has a lack of intrinsic motivations to drive him to do things

it’s different from being lazy; someone can be lazy while still having a goal, and certainly someone can be lazy while they’re motivated by thoughts of “I want to learn more,” “I want to get stronger,” etc. (you guys, it’s me right now in college)

and he doesn’t have that

part of this was contributed to the fact that he’s already so gifted with genetics and thus, there’s never been a goal for him to have to work towards to when he’s already at the top

he doesn’t actively seek out, and while that may be a characteristic of sloth, it’s not exactly right either

he willingly does things if people around him give him the motivations/reasons to do so; a person of sloth wouldn’t do anything even with all the motivations and goals handed right to their face

snacks/food are examples of extrinsic motivations that fuel him to carry on daily life

Himuro is always the main motivator for Murasakibara to come out and watch matches, and he also does whatever Akashi orders in both Teiko and present days // a person who can give the giant the motivation to do tasks would get along with him the most

searching out for a challenge against his basketball skills is something that’s never crossed his mind

why? he grew to be like the way he is because of the lack of results from his “search” of a challenge throughout his games

again, it’s only when Murasakibara gets handed a silver-platter of a challenge, Jason Silver, that actively gets him pumped up and raring to go

as such, Murasakibara is equivalent to a rusty machine, extremely difficult to start up and find compatibility with, but very powerful and efficient once he finds that spark

Murasakibara finding any partner or friend in the future would be extremely difficult because he ticks a different tune from the rest

Akashi Seijuro

his entire Bokushi side was a giant-ass red flag for very obvious reasons LOL anyways, moving on…

it’s difficult to pinpoint a negative characteristic for Oreshi because he’s the pinnacle of a gentleman character… but that technically is also his negative trait

for him to maintain that perfect image for himself and others, he has always carried himself in such a way that doesn’t allow for errors or expressions of “weakness”

thus, bottling up his frustrations and emotions to the point of no return is something very familiar to Akashi, and I’d feel like Bokushi is the result of his overflowing emotions left unchecked in the first place

I also predict that if Akashi continues to carry himself without letting himself wind down and feel emotions on the spot rather than locking it up inside him, a day will come when he splits into two halves again with a “new” Bokushi to deal with his current life (and let the current Oreshi take a backseat in his psyche to take a break from the turmoil)

also will tend to overwork himself to manage people’s expectations as well as his own, and he’s not one to depend on people not because he sees them as inferior or incapable, but because he’s doing this out of habit from being in positions of authority and responsibility for much of his life

and so, he may tend to hide important things or just not speak about his problems in general to those close to him because he feels like he can do it all himself and spare everyone the work and stress associated with them (a leader mentality)

throughout the majority of his life being calm and calculated, his emotions would definitely escape from him in forms of uncontrollable lashes of anger… before he would realize what he’s done… that is, assuming that another Bokushi hasn’t form within his subconscious yet