#hoping those links work I answered this on mobile lol

[countinglegoclowns]

Hi hi! I really adore your Long Hair Tang edits and art! You make him so beautiful. Are you going to s4 edits for that? Have a great month, eat your vegetables and sleep early regularly!

Howdy!!! Thanks so much! But yeah, I have done some! (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) I’ve been kinda wanting to more but I’m super lazy when it comes to finding screenshots haha

[linksthoughtbrambles]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @embyrinitalics for tagging me! 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

31, with some being compilations of very short works.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

361,133 😲

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Zelda! But also a tiny bit of Star Trek DS9 and Lower Decks.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Link's Thought Brambles

Adventure Log+

Crow's Feet

Blindsighted

Substatutiary

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Almost every time. We are all part of a community that loves Zelda. Why not talk to each other?

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. I never quite understand what 'angst' is. But I am guessing the answer is Blindsighted because of the moods and thoughts of the characters at the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Link's Thought Brambles 💕

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Very rarely, but when I have it has been that people don't like horror, deviations from 100% Zelink, or characters being imperfect people who don't always make the best choices. (So far. Wait til what happens later in Adventure Log+ 🫠).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind.

I have a confession here: I hate the word "smut" - it sounds so negative. It has connotations of dirty (literally smut, dirt - see the screenshot of google's definition below), of something undesirable.

That is not what I am writing when I write about sex. Do I write nsfw? Yes, absolutely. I respect some readers' wish to avoid them, so I make those scenes possible to skip if I can (but the work is more cohesive when included 🥰).

I pretty much write Zelink 💕

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Only one so far! "Oopsy" lol where Link and Zelda are the two "humans" in the zoo in the Star Trek: Lower Decks episode "I Have No Bones Yet I Must Flee." It is indeed crazy.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. How would I find out?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but that would be amazing!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, several, and more ongoing.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Zelink

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh man. Well, I hope to finish all, but the slowest one by far is the one done as sort of an edited screenshot comic: Adventure Log-. I really enjoy that one, but it has taken a backseat to the more traditional writing.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and characterization. I've had people tell me my action scenes are good, which was a huge relief to hear!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptive prose. I can do it, but I have to spend massive amounts of time and brainpower to do so.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm sure it will come up at some point, and when it does I will do my best.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Zelda! But I was a kid writing on loose leaf paper 😂😂 and I didn't get very far.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Link's Thought Brambles. I am so proud of it, and that I finished it, and that the ending feels complete (even though there is a sequel).

Tagging @bellecream @1up-girl @zeldaseyebrows @fatefulfaerie @obsidiangst @deiliamedlini and anyone else who would like to play, it seems harder to get mobile to find people's handles than on a browser.

[starsailorstories]

popping in for another q (totally no pressure to answer if you don’t want to, and sorry if i’m being a bit overbearing) do the belltownies with word names presumed translated from altamaian have canon untranslated names, and if so, what are they? (like, do you know what they’re actually called in altamaian?) is the english translation of their names exact, or is there some “localization” involved?

Don’t worry I LOVE questions, these make my day!! I made a post about this ages ago that I’m having trouble finding on mobile but will link later today, here’s the jist…

The quick answer is that the Anthesphoria girls generally use the names the earth kids gave them, which are their English names that appear in the book, among themselves (although there is bilingual wordplay in terms of affectionate nicknames; for instance “Caru” which translates literally to “Blue” but can also mean “excitable,” “emotional” or “extra” in colloquial Altamaian).

I’ve made mention of Shade and Bolt using Altamaian translations of their names as sort of public-facing names that will sound more familiar to their comrades in their later post-rebellion leadership, although Shade uses a somewhat indirect translation (Nubi, which in an Altamaian context means “shadow” or “obscuring haze/cloud”) to avoid the umbra- prefix that’s associated with “shadowing” a bigger more important body (as in “umbralis”). Bolt quite literally only ever puts “doctor (!) pessula filia tinnaturisai” on published research way down the road when she has her Legit Credentials, she’s Aunt* Boltie in person no matter who you are.

(*Teyah, again eventually once the Ashtivan language revival has begun in earnest. This is all post-canon stuff.)

As for other Bell Town folks, yes, they’re speaking Altamaian canonically and have Altamaian names although I’m shamed to admit that many of those are works in progress atm. They’re likely to be close but not exact bc i want them to have a similar “feel.” Matching the satisfying sound and pun potential of “Rugsnatcher” for instance in a new language is a delicate business and I’m kind of hoping the right thing will emerge organically as I work through the lexicon. I do think Dialtone (she gets to everything first lol) in Altamaian is going to be something like “Secuinexa,” which is “cut connection.”

Stay tuned because this is something I’m also curious about and actively working on. It’s going to be especially important for Rin’s pov in vol. 2 and 3 bc by that point they speak Altamaian/glossa via pretty fluently and are explicitly switching between languages in some scenes.

[cescalr]

thalia x reyna from percy jackson for the ask (i'm pretty sure you've read heroes of olympus but if i'm wrong, ronance from stranger things)

I will answer both and this is gonna be soooo controversial (for the second) lol ack

Also; I'm on mobile, and this is going to get long, and i cant link any suppirting posts that explain my perspectives better than i can, lol. If you want, i'll dm the metas. I hope I get the keep reading thing right, but if it doesn't work... sorry. Summary:

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

Reyna/Thaila (reynalia??) Is not something I've ever considered, to be honest. I'm not sure how compatible they'd be, but I do ship annabeth/thalia (I should really look up pjo ship names, huh) and I've even given thalia/percy a go, because I'm firmly in the camp that you should give most ships a chance before you write them off completely (as it stands, the most controversial pjo ship I've ever read would either be luke/percy or nico/Sadie - that was written before he was confirmed as gay, though, so it's a grey area, like pre-confirmation romantic stobin fics, or willow/oz content, though differently so for the latter*).

Given all the above, I can't say I don't ship it, but I can say I'm not sure. I think given I like thaliabeth (??) and reynabeth, it wouldn't be a stretch to ship reynalia, though!

(*willow is controversial because of a clash between people who interpret her being called a lwsbian as biphobic vs people thinking calling her bisexual as lesbiphobic, its a whole deal I don't want to her into rn but... eeh, I guess I should state that I'm in the camp that her being bisexual is the most logical reading of canon, her status as a lesbian is a self-identifier because she swore off dating men, not because she isn't attracted to them - she cheated on Oz with Xander for purely lust related reasons, her whole thing with the will be done spell, and her actions with Amy when she goes off the rails (magically forcing men to dance half naked In cages in the bronze, along with other questionable acts) is... uh, not particularly lesbian behaviour, generally speaking; imo, Willow uses being gay as a mask for her insecurities same as she does her witchy power and her choice of fashion - to distance herself from the 'pathetic' girl she used to be. Its a whole psychological thing tied up in era-typical bigotry, unfortunately. It was the 90s. She wasn't going to be addressed as bi, even though she so clearly was. There's a reason I really like 2000s doctor who - it was the first positive representation of a bisexual I'd seen on screen, and being bisexual is clearly going to affect my opinion, here. Like. Duh. Same with lesbians who interpret her as lesbian. I don't think we should be arguing- at the end of the day, we all technically want the same thing; personal representation of our own lived experiences, and that's not a bad thing. Theres a good video on youtube about the controversy, which. Theres always a good video on youtube, lol.)

Um. Oops, rambling. Anyway.

So, ronance. Oh boy.

I see Nancy as straight. I'm also not fond of how she treats Robin in the little time we see them together. Im also not a fan of robin dating the ex that broke her bestie's heart. So, ergo, I don't ship them. I'm genuinely, as much as it probably doesn't seem that way, more of a fan of friendship, at the end of the day. I would see it as a betrayal (same way I see scolia and stydia as a betrayal). I tend to use romantic/sexual relations as a way to explore character because that's easiest to get my points across, but I prefer friendship. Romance is, at the end of the day, conditional. Friends can be friends still after three years of no contact, but that's a signal for the end of a romance. So what I'm getting at here - you can be tentative friends with someone the way robin and Nancy act (as is their canon dynamic), but I wouldn't be conformable with them dating. Nancy barely tolerates Robin. She displays annoyance at pretty much everything she does, from rambling to venting to expositing her mental state, Nancy's countenance just screamed 'I'm waiting for this to stop'. I don't like that in friendship, and I like it much less in romance. Even with my most controversial ships, there's still a kind of passion. Hate is not the opposite of love - it's apathy. Nancy seems often apathetic to Robin's mental state, her worries and concerns. She dismisses a lot of what robin says and does, at least from my perspective watching them. And it must be said - and I'll freely admit - I'm not Nancy's biggest fan, but I love Robin, she's my girl. That's going to cause some problems. Even with ships that are objectively questionable, I have to like both characters for me to get behind it, or I have to like both characters when in the context of the ship. This makes little sense, so I'll extrapolate.

In the Vampire Diaries, I don't really like Stefan Salvatore, and unpopular opinion time, I hate Klaus. I really, really hate him. At this point, it's straight-up loathing. But I greatly enjoyed their dynamics, from 20s to modern day, and that they shared an ex was funny to me (same way it is with Zutara, and making jetko kinda-canon for that reason alone half the time, akfjqlfjwk) as well as being an interesting thing to happen. (I mean, what are the odds, really?). So there's that. I also liked stefan and Katherine's whole weird deal, which played an aspect. What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that there's a certain respect even in my most dubious ships (jetko, steo, fuffy, spuffy, etc) that I feel is completely lacking in ronance. There's a video by Jill Bearup about enemies to lovers ships that might give a good reason to one aspect of why I like it - they take each other seriously. There's an understanding of competence, an acknowledgement of thought processes, a certain level of understanding. Nancy has none of that for Robin.

When I compare the two ships of the 'fruity four', as people have taken to calling them, steddie and ronance strike me as two very different kinds of ships. And I only half get steddie (very not fond of popular portrayal) - there's no real chance for me to get ronance. It is what it is, I suppose. People like what they're going to like. If you want me to extrapolate on any of this, I'd be happy to! My thoughts are oft all over the place and need a bit of direction to make sense, though, fair warning. I think about a lot of stuff and only rarely coherently akdhlwkfkq but I think there is a throughline. At the end of the day, mutual respect is mandatory for me, in romantix relationships especially, but not only for that. If I can't really get behind ronance platonically, there's no hope for romantically. And for the record, as stated above, I did give it a shot. Read the most popular fics and then a couple of the most recent, as I always do. They didn't agree with me, and they left me feeling distinctly... well, not so distinctly because I can't find the right word, but I couldn't help feeling the way I do about the popular portrayal of Hermione is happening to nancy? She's perfect and flawless and a girl boss and has never made a mistake ever and I just.... eeh. Also the treatment of Robin is... not always great. But that's a whole 'nother topic I've already rambled long enough, I don't need to add that.

Basically, tl:dr; ronance is kind of disquieting, probably because I'm not fond of their characterisations within ronance fics, and I'm often affected by the fanon regarding a ship. I never liked Sterek, for example, but I could've tolerated it if a) it wasn't so prevalent in fandom that it appears often untagged like an accepted part of canon when it is not and b) if it didn't so wildly misinterpret the characters, plus didn't include a character that doesn't sit right with me (Derek - Nancy) and a character I love but portrayed in a way that doesn't even remotely align with my interpretation of them 95% of the time (Stiles - Robin).

Er. Yeah. Oof.

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

:).

(As you can probably tell, I have... lots of very complicated feelings about shipping Robin (and like, shipping in general, being honest) with canon ST characters. I'm much less strict abt Riordanverse characters as a whole, for reasons I'd be perfectly willing to extrapolate on/discuss if you'd like to do so!).

♡♡

[vampirecatsw]

Intro and My Links

(for mobile + other users)

Hi, My name is Cyn, it's nice to meet you! Call me Cyn or Sol. My pronouns are he/him ^-^

THIS BLOG IS NOT SPOILER FREE

I'm a blatant kaishin shipper and proshipper, so scram if you're offended. Block me and go back to your lives. You don't even need to see my face, and I don't want to see you.

You might have seen me around Ao3 as secret_werewolves, leaving little comments on everyone's works~

I live in Australia and my birthday is the 18th of April. Don't worry, you don't need to send anything for it!

I like to lurk around discord servers, fandoms, devour fanfictions, and reblog things. My main fandom is Detective Conan / Magic Kaito, although I do explore some other ones.

I sometimes draw too, but since life has gotten very hectic recently, I'm taking things slower

FEEL FREE TO SEND ME ASKS ABOUT AUS, OCS OR ANYTHING. I'D BE GLAD TO ANSWER THEM!!!

~

My Art (Tumblr tag): https://vampirecatsw.tumblr.com/tagged/cyn%20draws

New!!: My new art blog yay! https://cyndraws.tumblr.com

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secret_werewolves  Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/10181337/ Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/secret-werewolves

~

My tags:

#cyn draws -> my art. I might also use #my art

#cyn talks / cyn speaks -> not much of a distinction since I often tag both. But cyn talks is for chatting, and cyn speaks is for original posts.

#cyn answers -> answering asks

Usually first name, last name for characters

#fic recs -> fic recs! Feel free to also browse my ao3 bookmarks or links on my fanfiction.net profile

#transmigrator kaito au -> my own au! I post under this tag (on both accounts, so click 'see all of tumblr'). Feel free to check out the link below and to follow the tag <3

~

This seems pretty popular so I'll put this here too. If I find another fic, I'll update it in this post. Happy reading~

Kaito pov/Kaito centric fanfic recommendations list:

~

Planned future projects:

Start writing fanfics hahaha. First I gotta get over my self esteem and start writing planssss. I do admire everyone who writes, but I really don't want to run out of steam halfway through projects. And if I'm gonna write, I wanna get into the habit of planning! It also allows for tiny details to be hinted in later, super satisfying >v<

Rn I'm super busy with uni so aaaa they might take a while

~

WIP Ideas in my brain, may or may not be actually posted. But definitely feel free to ask me questions about them!

Please send asks, I'm actually begging like please

- Kirby oc + anime au! (i have a series of monstrous documents with meticulous detail, it's getting ridiculous at this point adfghj. But I do need to watch the anime first). I have somehow ended up making an entire au around an oc haha. I'm taking some inspiration from other fandoms and fanworks.

- Dcmk oc/self inserts/transmigration aus (Shinichi/Conan, Kaito, detective boys, maybe some others. We need more of these in this fandom)

- Kaito transmigration au (Kaishin, platonic or romantic not decided yet)

https://vampirecatsw.tumblr.com/tagged/transmigrator%20kaito%20au

Inspired by 'Entirely Out of Spite' by Bgtea, a Genshin fanfic. Would highly recommend! https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349320/chapters/74816049 And also "Scum Villain Self-Saving System" too, since EOoS is inspired by it in turn. I'm crying since writing is just Not Happening XDDD The funniest thing about this au is Kaito being extra giddy to meet Shin/Cone and being a fanboy in general

Kaitou / phantom thief oc Look he just slaps, idk how to explain XD

~

Ok, bye! Hope everyone is doing well! I'm going back to work now because uni is using me like its ragdoll in those flash games lol

[l-crimson-l]

And gunpla questions you receive! (Honestly, thank you so much for answering them, you're of a great help to a newbie that's me.)

So, I plan to finally get to partially painting my first gunpla tomorrow, and I also thought of doing a little weathering, but it's just a random thought for now — and so I got curious of what weathering techniques you prefer and for what reason.

Ok so I had to take some time to look up a couple popular ways to do this bc I’ve only weather one kit only half way and it was, of course, the lazy way.

So first I’ll tell you how I did it. It was one of the 86 kits (please reprint those Bandai) and I only weathered the off white parts. But what I ended up doing was using the black, grey and brown gundam pens (typically used for panel lining) and my thumb to first add color the edges and panel lines, then used my thumb to smooth out the color. Using the brown gave it a nice rain rusted look and the black and grey added a nice worn look. The kit is packed away at the moment but I posted pictures of it somewhere on my blog. Probably under 86 lol

Ok so now the more official Modeler Approved options.

First would be using the Tamiya Weathering set. There’s a couple different panels to choose from so definitely pick the ones that have the colors you need. 

Basically it goes like this: use the brush (either the one included or maybe better, a foam type brush) and dash along the edges. Build up as much or as little as you want (for example maybe you wanna lay it on thick if you’re doing like a mud drenched type look) and then topcoat! If you add too much you can always wipe some away with a little bit of water. IMPORTANT NOTE: this is powdered so WEAR A MASK or at the very least use this in a Well Ventilated Area. There’s a couple brushes sold online for these

But you can honestly use either a sponge or an old makeup brush.

(Pic at the bottom bc tunglr mobile sucks)

The second method is called Chipping. This is where you use paint and a Very Thin Fine Tip Brush to brush on small chip like strokes on the edges of the piece. Using a couple colors here adds depth and helps it look more realistic. Here’s one example I found online

Now something to note about this method is that it is certainly time consuming. From what I listened to, this particular method can certainly take a couple days to detail the whole kit depending on how much you do and how big the kit is.

IMPORTANT: if you choose this method be aware of the chemistry of your paint. If you have an enamel or acrylic paint base then don’t go and use lacquer paint for your detail work. It’ll eat those other paints.

I think you could always top coat your paint job before doing this to help preserve your paint? Maybe someone more experience can confirm that.

Third: Washes

This is pretty straight forward. Take your paint, thin it down and then wash it over the part with a brush. Depending on your paint you can use a qtip to help dab away any excess. This typically really works well on things like planes and ships but can be used for gunpla as well. You can use this for any kind of paint just once again Be Mindful About Your Paint Layers. You don’t want a top layer of paint eating through your base paint job.

Here’s a couple links to videos covering each one in more detail:

Tamiya Weathering Set

Chipping

Wash

I hope this helps! Again it’s not something I’ve dipped my toes into to any real depth but I’ll tell ya this: even my lazy arse way added WAY more character and weight to my kit

[mcmansionhell]

Coronagrifting: A Design Phenomenon

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled content to bring you a critical essay on the design world. I promise you that this will also be funny. 

This morning, the design website Dezeen tweeted a link to one of its articles, depicting a plexiglass coronavirus shield that could be suspended above dining areas, with the caption “Reader comment: ‘Dezeen, please stop promoting this stupidity.’”

This, of course, filled many design people, including myself, with a kind of malicious glee. The tweet seemed to show that the website’s editorial (or at least social media) staff retained within themselves a scintilla of self-awareness regarding the spread a new kind of virus in its own right: cheap mockups of COVID-related design “solutions” filling the endlessly scrollable feeds of PR-beholden design websites such as Dezeen, ArchDaily, and designboom. I call this phenomenon: Coronagrifting. 

I’ll go into detail about what I mean by this, but first, I would like to presenet some (highly condensed) history. 

From Paper Architecture to PR-chitecture

Back in the headier days of architecture in the 1960s and 70s, a number of architectural avant gardes (such as Superstudio and Archizoom in Italy and Archigram in the UK) ceased producing, well, buildings, in favor of what critics came to regard as “paper architecture.” This “paper architecture” included everything from sprawling diagrams of megastructures, including cities that “walked” or “never stopped” - to playfully erotic collages involving Chicago’s Marina City. Occasionally, these theoretical and aesthetic explorations were accompanied by real-world productions of “anti-design” furniture that may or may not have involved foam fingers. 

Archigram’s Walking City (1964). Source.

Paper architecture, of course, still exists, but its original radical, critical, playful, (and, yes, even erotic) elements were shed when the last of the ultra-modernists were swallowed up by the emerging aesthetic hegemony of Postmodernism (which was much less invested in theoretical and aesthetic futurism) in the early 1980s. What remained were merely images, the production and consumption of which has only increased as the design world shifted away from print and towards the rapidly produced, easily digestible content of the internet and social media. 

Architect Bjarke Ingels’s “Oceanix” - a mockup of an ecomodernist, luxury city designed in response to rising sea levels from climate change. The city will never be built, and its critical interrogation amounts only to “city with solar panels that floats bc climate change is Serious”  - but it did get Ingels and his firm, BIG, a TED talk and circulation on all of the hottest blogs and websites. Meanwhile, Ingels has been in business talks with the right-wing climate change denialist president of Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro. (Image via designboom) 

Design websites are increasingly dominated by text and mockups from the desks of a firm’s public relations departments, facilitating a transition from the paper-architecture-imaginary to what I have begun calling “PR-chitecture.” In short, PR-chitecture is architecture and design content that has been dreamed up from scratch to look good on instagram feeds or, more simply, for clicks.  It is only within this substance-less, critically lapsed media landscape that Coronagrifting can prosper.

Coronagrifting: An Evolution

As of this writing, the two greatest offenders of Coronagrifting are Dezeen, which has devoted an entire section of its website to the virus (itself offering twelve pages of content since February alone) and designboom, whose coronavirus tag contains no fewer than 159 articles. 

Certainly, a small handful of these stories demonstrate useful solutions to COVID-related problems (such as this one from designboom about a student who created a mask prototype that would allow D/deaf and hard of hearing people to read lips) most of the prototypes and the articles about them are, for a lack of a better word, insipid. 

But where, you may ask, did it all start?

One of the easiest (and, therefore, one of the earliest) Coronagrifts involves “new innovative, health-centric designs tackling problems at the intersection of wearables and personal mobility,” which is PR-chitecture speak for “body shields and masks.” 

Wearables and Post-ables

The first example came from Chinese architect Sun Dayong, back at the end of February 2020, when the virus was still isolated in China. Dayong submitted to Dezeen a prototype of a full mask and body-shield that “would protect a wearer during a coronavirus outbreak by using UV light to sterilise itself.” The project was titled “Be a Bat Man.” No, I am not making this up. 

Screenshot of Dayong’s “Be a Batman” as seen on the Dezeen website. 

Soon after, every artist, architect, designer, and sharp-eyed PR rep at firms and companies only tangentially related to design realized that, with the small investment of a Photoshop mockup and some B-minus marketing text, they too could end up on the front page of these websites boasting a large social media following and an air of legitimacy in the field. 

By April, companies like Apple and Nike were promising the use of existing facilities for producing or supplying an arms race’s worth of slick-tech face coverings. Starchitecture’s perennial PR-churners like Foster + Partners and Bjarke Ingels were repping “3D-printed face shields”, while other, lesser firms promised wearable vaporware like “grapheme filters,” branded “skincare LED masks for encouraging self-development” and “solar powered bubble shields.” 

While the mask Coronagrift continues to this day, the Coronagrifting phenomenon had, by early March, moved to other domains of design. 

Consider the barrage of asinine PR fluff that is the “Public Service Announcement” and by Public Service Announcement, I mean “A Designer Has Done Something Cute to Capitalize on Information Meant to Save Lives.” 

Some of the earliest offenders include cutesy posters featuring flags in the shape of houses, ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home;” a designer building a pyramid out of pillows ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home”; and Banksy making “lockdown artwork” that involved covering his bathroom in images of rats ostensibly encouraging people to “stay home.” 

Lol. Screenshot from Dezeen. 

You may be asking, “What’s the harm in all this, really, if it projects a good message?” And the answer is that people are plenty well encouraged to stay home due to the rampant spread of a deadly virus at the urging of the world’s health authorities, and that these tone-deaf art world creeps are using such a crisis for shameless self promotion and the generation of clicks and income, while providing little to no material benefit to those at risk and on the frontlines.

Of course, like the mask coronagrift, the Public Service Announcement coronagrift continues to this very day. 

The final iteration of Post-able and Wearable Coronagrifting genres are what I call “Passive Aggressive Social Distancing Initiatives” or PASDIs. Many of the first PASDIs were themselves PSAs and art grifts, my favorite of which being the designboom post titled “social distancing applied to iconic album covers like the beatle’s abbey road.” As you can see, we’re dealing with extremely deep stuff here. 

However, an even earlier and, in many ways more prescient and lucrative grift involves “social distancing wearables.” This can easily be summarized by the first example of this phenomenon, published March 19th, 2020 on designboom: 

Never wasting a single moment to capitalize on collective despair, all manner of brands have seized on the social distancing wearable trend, which, again, can best be seen in the last example of the phenomenon, published May 22nd, 2020 on designboom:

We truly, truly live in Hell. 

Which brings us, of course, to living. 

“Architectural Interventions” for a “Post-COVID World”

As soon as it became clear around late March and early April that the coronavirus (and its implications) would be sticking around longer than a few months, the architectural solutions to the problem came pouring in. These, like the virus itself, started at the scale of the individual and have since grown to the scale of the city. (Whether or not they will soon encompass the entire world remains to be seen.) 

The architectural Coronagrift began with accessories (like the designboom article about 3D-printed door-openers that enable one to open a door with one’s elbow, and the Dezeen article about a different 3D-printed door-opener that enables one to open a door with one’s elbow) which, in turn, evolved into “work from home” furniture (”Stykka designs cardboard #StayTheF***Home Desk for people working from home during self-isolation”) which, in turn, evolved into pop-up vaporware architecture for first responders (”opposite office proposes to turn berlin's brandenburg airport into COVID-19 'superhospital'”), which, in turn evolved into proposals for entire buildings (”studio prototype designs prefabricated 'vital house' to combat COVID-19″); which, finally, in turn evolved into “urban solutions” aimed at changing the city itself (a great article summarizing and criticizing said urban solutions was recently written by Curbed’s Alissa Walker).

There is something truly chilling about an architecture firm, in order to profit from attention seized by a global pandemic, logging on to their computers, opening photoshop, and drafting up some lazy, ineffectual, unsanitary mockup featuring figures in hazmat suits carrying a dying patient (macabrely set in an unfinished airport construction site) as a real, tangible solution to the problem of overcrowded hospitals; submitting it to their PR desk for copy, and sending it out to blogs and websites for clicks, knowing full well that the sole purpose of doing so consists of the hope that maybe someone with lots of money looking to commission health-related interiors will remember that one time there was a glossy airport hospital rendering on designboom and hire them. 

Enough, already. 

Frankly, after an endless barrage of cyberpunk mask designs, social distancing burger king crowns, foot-triggered crosswalk beg buttons that completely ignore accessibility concerns such as those of wheelchair users, cutesy “stay home uwu” projects from well-to-do art celebrities (who are certainly not suffering too greatly from the economic ramifications of this pandemic), I, like the reader featured in the Dezeen Tweet at the beginning of this post, have simply had enough of this bullshit. 

What’s most astounding to me about all of this (but especially about #brand crap like the burger king crowns) is that it is taken completely seriously by design establishments that, despite being under the purview of PR firms, should frankly know better. I’m sure that Bjarke Ingels and Burger King aren’t nearly as affected by the pandemic as those who have lost money, jobs, stability, homes, and even their lives at the hands of COVID-19 and the criminally inept national and international response to it. On the other hand, I’m sure that architects and designers are hard up for cash at a time when nobody is building and buying anything, and, as a result, many see resulting to PR-chitecture as one of the only solutions to financial problems. 

However, I’m also extremely sure that there are interventions that can be made at the social, political, and organizational level, such as campaigning for paid sick leave, organizing against layoffs and for decent severance or an expansion of public assistance, or generally fighting the rapidly accelerating encroachment of work into all aspects of everyday life – that would bring much more good and, dare I say, progress into the world than a cardboard desk captioned with the hashtag #StaytheF***Home. 

Hence, I’ve spent most of my Saturday penning this article on my blog, McMansion Hell. I’ve chosen to run this here because I myself have lost work as a freelance writer, and the gutting of publications down to a handful of editors means that, were I to publish this story on another platform, it would have resulted in at least a few more weeks worth of inflatable, wearable, plexiglass-laden Coronagrifting, something my sanity simply can no longer withstand. 

So please, Dezeen, designboom, others – I love that you keep daily tabs on what architects and designers are up to, a resource myself and other critics and design writers find invaluable – however, I am begging, begging you to start having some discretion with regards to the proposals submitted to you as “news” or “solutions” by brands and firms, and the cynical, ulterior motives behind them. If you’re looking for a guide on how to screen such content, please scroll up to the beginning of this page. 

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If you enjoyed this article, please consider subscribing to my Patreon, as I didn’t get paid to write it.  

[sundownsquad]

How did you make the website and/or how do you organise everything. I'm struggling finding a good way to keep my characters and story straight all in one place and was hoping to take some notes from you

Hi there, thanks for asking! I'm happy to share some website tips with you!

I build websites as part of my job, so that's how I knew how to build one. However, everything I did to create mine can 100% be replicated by someone who knows nothing about coding or who has never interacted with the admin side of a website before.

So shorter answer to your question: I built the website using WordPress and used a drag-and-drop page builder plugin to create the custom look of the site. I've added more details on that below the cut.

As for how I actually organize my story and character content outside the website, I use a combination of Google Docs and a private Discord server. I use the Google Docs for script writing as well as my more "finalized" notes and details. I use the private Discord server to organize research, inspiration, brainstorming and random ideas and lines of dialogue I come up with that don't have a "home" yet. I've split everything into a bunch of different channels for easy organization and retrieval (because otherwise I'll forget where I stuck things lol). I personally highly recommend using a private Discord server to organize content, it works really well for that.

More detailed answer to your website question: Below the cut I'll talk more about how I built SundownSquad.com, but I've also included an overview of some other easy ways to put a site together. I definitely encourage you to build a site for your content. It's super fun and is honestly really satisfying to see all your creations organized in one place. Lol Hopefully this helps get you started! <3

Ways to Build Websites for Your Character and Story Content

Below are some overviews of both free and paid ways to create a website. All of these can work great to build a site where you organize your character and story content.

Using Tumblr for a Website

I think it's important to first mention how good Tumblr can actually be for building a simple website. The desktop version of Tumblr lets you completely customize the theme of your blog and add additional pages, so you can make it look pretty much however you want. And with tons of awesome developers creating free blog and page themes, you can create custom content with either never touching a line of code, or doing some minor edits for customization. The Sundown Squad Tumblr blog is an example of this: https://sundownsquad.tumblr.com (must be viewed on desktop otherwise it will covert to the mobile version). All of those pages were put together using themes pre-coded by other folks. If you click on the Characters and About links (they haven't been updated in forever sorry :''D ) you can see examples of page themes. Lots of cool ways to display your blog posts and other custom content! There's plenty of themes geared towards character and story organization as well, so it's a great way to pull your ideas and content together.

The best place to look for free Tumblr blog and page themes is the Theme Hunter Blog. If you view it on desktop (or possibly through a regular mobile browser, not the Tumblr app) and go through the navigation you'll be able to search by theme or page type. They also have tutorials that show you how to set everything up.

Free Website Builders/Hosts

There unfortunately aren't a lot of places where you can build and host a website for free, but there's a couple. I haven't personally used these sites, but I've seen other folks use them that said they've had good experiences.

Weebly.com

Weebly has been around for quite a while and appears to have a nice drag-and-drop builder (which means no coding required). It looks like you can build a decently robust website without running into any pay walls which is rare these days. This would be a good place to start if you want to get a feel for how website building works.

Neocities.org

I've seen this one floating around Tumblr lately and it seems to have some great offerings for being a free service. However, it does require coding. The good news is you can create some pretty cool stuff with very basic HTML and CSS code. Taking a spin through a site like W3Schools can give you a great primer on basic coding and they've got a mountain of awesome tutorials and example code. So if you're willing to put in a little legwork, this could be a great place to set up a site.

Paid Website Builders/Hosts

If you're wanting to get fancier and truly be able to build whatever you want, then upgrading to paid website tools is the way to go.

I built SundownSquad.com using WordPress, one of the leading and most versatile website platforms on the market. I highly recommend it to everyone, and it's what I use for professional work as well. Building a WordPress site requires some monetary investment, but it is 100% worth it if you want to build a fully customized site. There's also tons of tutorials, walkthroughs, and documentation out there for how to use it so you can always hit up Google or YouTube to find answers.

Hosting

The WordPress platform itself is free and open source, but you have to find a place to host it (a host is the server were the website data is stored). There's tons of hosts, so doing a Google search for "WordPress site hosting" will bring up a million of them. WordPress hosting services will set up the base website that you can then load themes and plugins into and start building on (it's all a visual interface, so no coding needed). They also provide customer service so if anything goes wrong with your site they can help.

Plugins

Plugins are add-ons to WordPress sites that greatly extend the functionality of the base platform. There's plugins for absolutely anything you can think of that you might want to add to your site. Lots of plugins are free (which is awesome), but you can also get more robust functionality with paid options.

Drag-and-Drop Page Builders

Drag-and-Drop page builders are plugins that add visual editors to WordPress that essentially do all of the coding for you. All you have to do is drag-and-drop content blocks (this can be anything from basic text and images to fancy galleries and content organization) into place to create pages and posts. These are hands down the easiest way to build a custom site.

Themes

Themes are what dictate how your site looks. There are thousands of themes available out there (free and paid), but I recommend themes that offer a high level of customization (the ability to edit fonts, site colors, menu design, page design, etc.). The majority of themes offer high customization but others can be a bit more limited, so just shop around before landing on one.

SundownSquad.com

To pull all the above together, I'll show you what my site is built on to give you an idea of what to consider for your own site.

Platform: WordPress 5.9 Host: DigitalOcean (not easy for beginners, but is a low-cost option if you're willing to learn how to do some basic site set-up from the command line) Theme: Xtra – Multipurpose WordPress Theme (Awesome theme - granular levels of customization and hundreds of page templates and presets you can start from and build off of, and it works with two popular page builders called Elementor [free] and WPBakery [paid]. Also includes a license key for WPBakery in the purchase price which will save you the $50 you would normally have to spend to buy the plugin — this is a HUGE bonus) Plugins:

WP Bakery Page builder (my personal favorite page builder) [Paid]

Custom Post Type UI (Used this to create custom post types/categories to separate the concept art, comics, and stories galleries to make them independently viewable and filterable) [Free]

Duplicate Page (an absolute lifesaver; a must have with a page builder so you can duplicate the work you've done on other pages/posts) [Free]

wpDiscuz (overhauls the base comment system to add tons more functionality) [Free]

WP ULike (Adds the like button at the bottom of posts) [Paid]

Akismet Anti-Spam (A must-have if you want to allow guest/anonymous comments on your site. If you don't have this you will get spammed mercilessly by bots; not fun at all) [Paid]

Wordfence (An absolute requirement for every site. Adds a firewall, anti-virus protection, and malware scanning to the site) [Free]

WP-Optimize (Adds the ability to clean out the site database to improve site speed as well as the ability to compress uploaded images in a way that preserves quality but reduces server load. Also has a cache feature, but that broke the galleries on my site for some reason so I wouldn't recommend using that feature with the Xtra theme lol)

This is a super high-flying overview, but I hope it gives you some insight into what options are available out there!

[fangroyal]

#3 What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Fun Meta Asks for Writers

Adding the link to the ask game at the start this time, 'cause this is gonna be a long one, y'all. 😂

Where do I even begin? First of all, @angie-leena​, thank you so SO much for sending me this ask! It was the kick in the ass I needed to get me to actually write this scene, and for that I’m extremely grateful. I still don’t know if I’m entirely happy with the finished product, but it exists now, and that’s something.

So some of you may remember (if anyone actually follows my ramblings, haha!) that I’ve been simultaneously complaining about and obsessing over this gigantic WIP I’ve had since fucking March 2019. Nearly two and a half years have passed since I put the first word to paper, and oh how I’ve loved to cry out in frustration about how I have about 12k written on the stupid thing and yet not a single scene finished.

AT LEAST

NOT UNTIL TODAY

YES, I’VE DONE IT. I’ve finished a scene on this amazing, wonderful, and incredibly stupid WIP, and I could just cry.

FYI for anyone who doesn’t know what the fuck I’m talking about (which I’m sure is everyone, ‘cause I don’t expect anybody to remember this insane thing I’ve been shouting about all this time, LOL): this is the Slytherin My Gryffindor WIP. Yes, that is a working title. 😅 I will find a better one.....some day.......Ron/Draco is the main pair, but there will also be plenty of others sprinkled in the background.

Anyway, about this ask and that context I haven’t been arsed to write yet...

Context required in order to understand this scene 😂:

Fred Lives AU

The Muggle world and the Wixen world has kind of mixed in recent years, and it’s very common for magical people to be using Muggle technology

The Weasley twins have opened a second shop in Diagon Alley...selling sex toys (yes, really)

Their first original product line issssssss..........dildoes shaped like the Weasley brothers’ own dicks (and a fleshlight kind of thing for Ginny)

Yes this is crack!fic (but, like, also not???)

Ron has been made general manager of the shop and is there all the time, as they’re incredibly busy

Draco wants 👏 that 👏 D 👏, but is worried about Ron finding out, so keeps coming into the shop randomly hoping he won’t be there (and of course he always is)

Eventually there’s a day where Ron’s in the backroom, Charlie’s visiting and helping out at the register, and when Ron emerges, Charlie informs him that Draco Malfoy has just run in and bought Ron’s dildo

Cue Ron being incredibly turned on by this notion

So that pretty much brings us up-to-speed for this scene - it’s been a few days now, and Ron’s been trying to figure out a way to contact Draco to talk to him about the whole thing, since they never became friends or anything after the war and don’t regularly talk unless they’re just seeing each other around

The fic is meant to touch on, like...fame in the aftermath of the war (i.e. why anyone would be interested in sex toys modelled after the Weasley siblings in the first place)

Ron has evolved from his teenage self and grown to hate the fame - it prevents him from being able to date, because the press can never let him keep anything private

After this scene, the fic will focus on Ron and Draco developing a sexual - and eventually romantic - relationship (originally under the guise of “testing out” other products from the shop together)

They will try their best to keep their relationship a secret, but, like...everyone knows 😘😘😘

Also Draco is a model in this one (not important for this scene, but just thought you might want to know 😂)

In addition, some warnings/content to make note of before reading:

NC-17 (smut incoming!)

Technology circa 2005

Phone sex

Semi-public sex

Sex toys

Both Ron and Draco are a little drunk (but very consenting!)

Crack taken way too seriously

Of course, this hasn't been betaed or Britpicked, so I apologize for how very rough it is right now, lol. It will likely be a little (or a lot!) different if I ever actually finish this whole fucking fic and post it later on. I am treating this scene like a “sneak peek” of the fic, because I definitely do still want to try to finish it someday...

HOLY SHIT, I had a LOT more to say about it than I thought. 😅 So anyway. Scene under the cut.

Friday night at the Dragon's Head was packed. It took a bit of initiative, but Ron, Seamus, and Dean finally managed to snag them all a table in the back corner, hoarding the extra seats till Harry and Neville finally arrived, trailed closely by Ginny and Parkinson ― who were curiously short one blond wizard.

Ron tried not to think about it. He bought the first round with Harry, listening to him chat about the recent Puddlemere match against the Magpies. They ordered nibbles for the table. Ron munched on chips, his heart skipping every time the door opened across the room and another few patrons trickled in.

He was on his third pint of the evening when he started getting antsy. He sipped his Simison, using the light smoke curling around the rim of the glass to discreetly glance around the pub, hoping to spot a familiar head of blond hair in the crowd. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor.

"Is he coming, then?"

Ron's head snapped to attention. Ginny checked the door as well before turning back to Parkinson.

"Who?" Neville asked, snagging a vinegar-soaked chip from the bowl in the center of the table.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, craning her neck to see her girlfriend's screen.

Parkinson tapped away on her mobile, shaking her head. "No. Says he's already curled up with a bottle of wine and a good book, and doesn't fancy getting all done up."

Fucking hell. Ron drained the dregs at the bottom of his glass. It wasn't often Malfoy joined them on a mostly-Gryffindor outing ― not unless Parkinson could convince him. Somehow, Ron felt he should've known it wouldn't be in the cards tonight. Conversation pivoted again, and Ron ran his fingers up the sides of his empty pint, thinking.

At some point, Seamus and Harry set off to get another round, and Ginny hurried away with them after a quick peck to Parkinson's cheek. Neville and Dean had gotten into a chat about proper Mimbulus mimbletonia care, and Ron saw his chance. He could feel his heart start to thud in his chest as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to catch her attention.

"Parkinson?"

She turned back from watching Ginny leave, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes?"

"Think you could give me Malfoy's number?"

The smirk she gave him in response made his hands shake a little as they drummed against the tabletop.

"Whatever for?"

Ron stared her down, knowing full well any excuse he told her would never be enough. Parkinson's expression was predatory ― as if she already knew the answer anyway. He waited for her to comment, bracing himself.

To his surprise, she instead dug her mobile back out of her handbag.

She turned the screen towards him, and he typed the number directly into the dialer on his phone. He waited a few minutes until everyone ― Parkinson included ― had moved on to other things and forgotten about him, and then slipped from the table.

Ron shouldered his way through the crowd to the loo, pushing inside and locking the door behind him. It was a small room, hardly bigger than a broom closet. There was a toilet and a sink, a grimy mirror hanging above it, and a dim ceiling lamp that barely lit the space.

Ron backed up to one side of the room and slumped against the wall. He gripped the phone in clammy hands. Those pints had picked a perfect moment to hit him all at once. Ron blinked away the creeping dizziness, staring down at the numbers glowing dauntingly on the tiny screen. He'd been unable to get it out of his mind for days ― the image of Malfoy riding his dildo ― and now that he had a way to contact him, he was frozen. The leaky faucet dripped, the sound maddening as it mingled with the rush of blood in his ears. This was stupid. This was so bloody stupid.

He hit call.

Ron held his breath, cupping the phone to his ear. The line rang and rang, until he started to realize he didn't have a plan B. What if Malfoy didn't answer? What if he had to leave a voicemail? What would he even say? He should've just texted him, damn it.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stopped. There was rustling and a mumbled, "Bloody useless thing." Then, louder, "Yes?"

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, this is ― Weasley?"

Malfoy sounded surprised. Ron breathed out gradually, his heartbeat slowing with it. Malfoy's voice was clear and present on the other end. No looking back. He tried to think of something to say, and only came up with one thing.

"Haven't seen you round the shop yet this week."

"Don't tell me that's really why you called." Malfoy sighed, trying to sound put-upon, but Ron could hear the hint of nerves underneath. "If you must know, that would be because I found what I'd been looking for."

"I know."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. For a moment, Ron thought Malfoy might hang up. But then he cursed quietly. "Damn that brother of yours. Incorrigible."

So it really was true. Charlie hadn't just been taking the piss. Ron felt a warmth flare up in his belly, spreading down to the tops of his thighs.

"Try growing up with him. And the twins? Now that's a real nightmare."

"I was trying for discreet, but you were always there."

Ron leaned further back against the wall, staring up at the dark ceiling above. He thought of all those times Malfoy had dropped in at the shop, only to hurry out again if Ron ever came too close. Malfoy had jumped at the chance when Ron had been called away to the back that day.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well. You know. So what, then? Looking to mock me for it?"

"You always assume the worst with me. Why is that?" Although Ron couldn't exactly blame him. He hadn't given Malfoy much else to go on in years past. Neither of them had. "No. No, I was calling because…" Why had he been calling? It had seemed such a natural thing when he'd asked Parkinson for Malfoy's number not five minutes ago. "I was curious. If there was, er." He waved his free hand, searching for the words. Nothing sounded right. "Any particular reason for it."

Malfoy laughed ― a short bark of a sound. "I mean, obviously yes. It's a sex toy, Weasley."

Ron snorted, taken aback. "That's not ―"

"Actually, I thought it'd make a nice statement in the middle of my dining table. It would be an excellent conversation piece for dinner parties."

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I didn't ―"

A chuckle rumbled through from the other end of the line. There was that snark again. Merlin, it made Ron hot, his skin blooming from his collar up to his ears. He chewed his lip, pulling back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"I only meant ― was there a reason? That you'd picked mine?"

The line suddenly went quiet. Ron had to check his phone just to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

When Malfoy finally replied, his voice was soft, uncertain. "What would possess you to call and ask me that?"

Ron breathed in slowly, his hand tapping an incoherent rhythm on his thigh. "Well, I'm a bit pissed, to be honest," he admitted, still feeling the slight burn the Simison had left in his throat.

Malfoy didn't say anything more at first. The lamp above buzzed as the faucet continued to drip. Ron could hear the noise from the pub pressing up against the other side of the door.

Then, Malfoy said, "Maybe there was."

Ron felt his heart jump into his throat. "Was what?"

"A reason why I bought it," Malfoy said slowly, deliberately. "Figure it out, Weasel."

Oh, bloody hell. Ron took a shaky breath. Every nerve felt like it was on fire.

"And...how was it?" Ron heard himself ask as if from very far away.

Even over the din of the music beyond the bathroom door, he could hear Malfoy swallow. "It was good."

"Oh, ta." Ron chuckled despite himself.

"No, I mean...Bugger." It was nice hearing Malfoy so flustered. A rare occurrence, and one that the little fluttering pixie in Ron's stomach very much wanted to repeat. "It was brilliant, alright? Happy?"

Brilliant. The word tingled down Ron's spine. For some reason, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Bloody hell, was this really happening? He thought of fleeting insults thrown in the school corridors all those years ago ― then he thought of a night just a few months ago, the look in Malfoy's eyes as Ron told him about the shop.

"You wrote a song about me once, if I remember correctly," Ron said, feeling deliriously happy.

"I suppose I did." Malfoy sighed.

Ron's eyes flicked to the door, to the noise of the crowd beyond. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"Oh, please, Weasley," Malfoy said bitterly. "Pick a reason."

"I know, but ―" Ron tried to argue, but Malfoy cut him off.

"You don't owe me anything. It would be incredibly unfair for me to expect you to be interested in return."

Ron supposed that was fair enough. He'd had similar feelings towards Malfoy until very recently.

"I would be, though. I mean ― I am."

Saying the words out loud gave them a weight Ron hadn't felt before. He let them roll off his tongue, flattened the tip of it along his lips as he thought about flashes of icy blond hair, high cheekbones, and long fingers swirling around the rim of a glass. He thought of the moment he'd finally realized Malfoy had been looking back.

"Oh." Malfoy paused, seeming surprised by that revelation. "Good to know."

Malfoy fidgeted. Ron listened intently, hearing the breath he released and the scrape of his fingers against his mobile.

"You wouldn't ― ah." Malfoy caught himself, and Ron waited for him to continue, his ears ringing. "Would you want to…?" Malfoy trailed off, finishing his thought with a scoff.

"Would I want to what ― oh."

Oh.

Ron swallowed hard. He wanted to believe Malfoy was asking him what he thought he was asking him, but even after everything, it was almost too good to be true. The long stretch of awkward silence on the other end told him he was right, though, and that made him jittery, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

"I could be reading too much into this," Malfoy muttered.

"No, no, definitely not. I mean." Ron licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling far too dry. "I just don't want you to think I expect this."

Malfoy made a sound, and Ron could practically feel him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.

"Oh, so you don't ring up every person who buys a model of your cock and ask them how they enjoyed it?"

"What? No, of course not!" Ron stopped, realizing, and laughed at himself. "You're joking. That was a joke."

"Terribly clever, this one."

A sudden jiggling of the door handle made Ron jump, almost dropping his mobile in the process.

"Occupied!"

He fumbled with the phone, his heart thudding wildly. When he put it back to his ear, Malfoy was laughing. The sound made Ron feel weak in the knees.

"Where are you?" Malfoy asked, still snickering.

"In the loo at the Dragon's Head."

"Oh, of course." Malfoy sucked his teeth contemplatively. "Hang on. Is there anyone in there with you?"

Another frustrated turn of the door handle.

"It's a single."

"Good." Malfoy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do you want me to use it?"

Ron pressed his hand flat against the door, waiting until he heard the bloke give a huff and storm off. "Use what?"

"Your dildo, Weasley."

The silken drawl of Malfoy's voice spread like gooseflesh across Ron's skin. "Right now?" he asked incredulously, although he was already half hard at the thought.

"I could give you an exclusive product review. Unless you don't want to."

"No, I do!" Ron replied quickly, and Malfoy laughed again, making him blush.

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes." Ron passed a hand over his face, trying to laugh as well, but it came out shaky. Merlin, it had been all he could think about for the past few days. Still, he'd never imagined Malfoy would offer it outright. "Just didn't take you for the phone sex type."

Malfoy hummed. "You caught me in a randy mood. Now how do I ― ah, right."

Ron assumed he'd been put on speakerphone, as there was now an echo. He dug out his wand for a moment and cast a quick Silencio on the bathroom. It was a wonder how he had the brain power to spare, when all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing to his cock. He could hear Malfoy fumbling for something on the other end.

"Where are you?" Ron asked in return, trying to distract himself from the heady thrum of anticipation.

"In bed. Naked," Malfoy added with a hint of a smirk in his voice. Ron groaned, shutting his eyes against the image of Malfoy stretched out on soft sheets, hard and waiting for him. Merlin, had he been naked the whole time they were talking? Ron pressed the heel of his palm to the crotch of his jeans.

Malfoy went silent for a moment, until there was a faint intake of breath. His bed creaked distantly in the background.

Ron licked his lips, cupping his hand around the solid, hot line of his cock under his trousers. "Are you prepping yourself?"

"Of course." Malfoy breathed out steadily, the bed creaking again. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be. Although I'd always wondered."

Fucking hell. Ron arched against his hand. Was he really going to get his cock out in a pub toilet? The last shred of his resolve melted away when he heard Malfoy moan, low and guttural, a sound that shot straight through Ron, all the way to his toes. He imagined Malfoy laying back, his knees bent up, and slick fingers down between his legs, pressing in and out of his puckered hole. Ron was switching the phone to his left hand before he could give it a second thought. He flicked open the button on his jeans and pushed his pants down to hook under his balls, taking himself in hand.

Ron rolled his hand down over his length. Malfoy's breath hitched, and he cursed, the bed shifting with him. Ron caught his lip between his teeth, wondering how many fingers he had in him. He imagined himself leaning over Malfoy on the bed, licking a hot stripe along his neck as his hand worked him open, his thighs falling open as he settled between them.

"Fuck, I needed this," Malfoy breathed. Ron moaned, pulling his foreskin back and rubbing over the weeping head of his cock.

Malfoy muttered a Cleansing charm, and then a drawer was pulled roughly open nearby. Ron heard Malfoy pick up the phone, moving and setting it down again as he bounced on the bed, adjusting himself.

"Are you ―?" Ron wanted to ask, but he couldn't finish the thought, left hand gripping the phone hard as he tried to steady himself.

"Yes, gods."

Ron paused, listening as Malfoy shifted and panted on the other end. He didn't have to ask when it was fully in. He knew the moment Malfoy's breath faltered, the gasp he gave sending shivers down Ron's spine.

Malfoy huffed, the sound so loud to Ron's ears as the whole world funneled down to a point, to this moment as he listened to Malfoy move the toy inside of himself. He moaned, and Ron thought he could hear the squelch of lube on the other end of the line as it entered him.

"Talk to me, Weasley."

Malfoy sounded wrecked. It was enough to make Ron's toes curl just to hear it. It was almost too much to handle ― the idea of Draco Malfoy being thoroughly fucked out by a dildo modelled after Ron's own cock. Ron's head thunked back against the wall. His hand trembled a little as he began stroking himself again.

"Get on your knees for me," he said softly.

Malfoy swore. Ron heard him flip over, his panting breaths suddenly closer to the receiver. In his mind, he could see Malfoy bent over the bed, arse in the air and cheek pressed against the mattress, lips rosy and parted. He imagined himself knelt behind Malfoy, hands gripping his slender hips.

"There's, uh." Ron swallowed. "There's a self-shagging feature. If you want. The spell's ―"

"Oh, we're well acquainted."

"Fuck," Ron moaned. No way he was going to last like this. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. Malfoy sounded like he was trying to collect himself, even as his voice broke on the last word. Ron couldn't begin to explain why that aroused him so much, but he didn't care, already speeding up his hand as it flew over his cock.

Malfoy cast the spell, and Ron felt his cry as the toy began to move on its own. The bed gave a jolt under Malfoy's weight. He gasped again, and Ron heard his fingers scrambling across the sheets.

Ron could almost see it. He imagined Malfoy's bowed back, his knees slipping and spreading apart, his toes curling. The bed creaked with each movement. A dildo of Ron's own making, Malfoy arching back onto it as it fucked him down onto the mattress. Merlin, he should've known Malfoy would take it so well, his eyes rolling back as he listened to the sounds Malfoy made as it thrust into him.

Ron closed his eyes and felt like he was sitting in the room, watching the whole show, watching a copy of his cock pound into Malfoy again and again. The pub outside the bathroom door fell away from him, and all he could focus on was Malfoy's voice and his hand on his own cock.

"Tell me how it feels," Ron choked out, wanting to hear it, see it, touch it, to watch Malfoy unravel under Ron's hands and cock, to capture each cry with his tongue.

Malfoy groaned. "So ― good ―"

"Tell me," Ron rasped again, thrusting his hips forward into his hand. "Tell me ― ah ― how good it is."

"It's so ―" Malfoy cried out, his hands skittering over the sheets. "So good ― so big ― I ―"

"Fucking hell, Malfoy."

At that point, Ron didn't know if he wanted to be watching the toy fuck Malfoy or if he wanted to take over for it. Was he really getting jealous of a dildo? He wished he was there. He wanted to tell Malfoy as much, but he couldn't manage it, instead moaning loudly as he felt his balls begin to draw up against him.

"Fuck, Weasley, you're gonna make me come," Malfoy whined, his posh accent slipping. 

Holy shit, and that was what did it. Ron made a gut-punched sound, his wrist flicking over the head of his cock. He was coming almost before he'd even realized. He barely had the presence of mind to do anything about it before the first spurt had dribbled onto the floor. He pushed off the wall and lent forward, pumping the remainder into the sink. He heard Malfoy swear, and Ron slumped back against the wall again, listening as he came apart with a shuddering cry.

The line went quiet once more. Ron rested his head on the tiles behind him, closing his eyes, holding his softening cock. For a long time, all he could hear was Malfoy breathing on the other end, his own heartbeat equally loud in his ears.

"I liked that. A lot."

Eloquent as always. Ron half expected for Malfoy to say just that, but instead he heard a very soft chuckle ― and then, quietly, "So did I."

Now that his heart rate was gradually slowing, the noise of the club outside wormed its way back in, reminding Ron of where he was, and what he'd just done. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing at the door when he heard a chatty couple pass by. How long had he been in there? Were the others looking for him?

Another person suddenly banged on the door, and Ron started, pushing off from the wall and quickly withdrawing his wand, disabling his Silencio and spelling himself clean.

"Right." He wanted to say more. Merlin, he did. But instead all he said just then was, "Well, I should probably, er, get back to it. You know?"

"Of course." There was rustling on the line, and then Ron was off speakerphone, Malfoy's voice close and intimate again in a way that made him shiver. "Have a good night, Weasley."

"You too, Malfoy."

Ron exited the bathroom, ignoring the irritated look the other patron gave him as he slipped past.

The entire way back to their table, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. Harry gave him an odd look when he slid into his seat, pulling the fresh pint they'd bought him an indeterminable amount of time ago towards him. Ron couldn't even begin to catch up with what they were all talking about, his mind drifting to thoughts of Malfoy, his mobile a leaden weight in his pocket as the night wound on.

[jackiebrackettt]

hellllooo tumblr user brackett girlbossjackie. quickkk question for you if you do not mind answering. sometime recently you had made a post about the bit during the new l'manburg era about ranboo being tubbo's bodyguard. there was other time stamps for that vod ofc but those bits are what i'm looking for. do you happen to have a link to the vod Or to the post with the time stamps you made? either works honestly because i just can't remember what stream(s) that was and if i saw the other time stamps i could probably find it lol. i remember taking a screenshot of the post but for some reason i cannot find it. if you can't find me the vod or post do not worry! i'd just thought i'd ask :DDD

hello!! it’s “getting ready for the meeting” and I think only exists on archive dot org (send another ask if u want the link i just can’t get it easily on mobile) (this is also when they first found michael!!)

8:04 (ranboo tries to save tubbo from a creeper)

9:25 (tubbo gets ranboo to kill a skeleton for him)

13:48 (“can you kill that please? Security?” + ranboo puts on his armour and tubbo says he doesn’t believe in armour “except iron boots bc that’s the only armour I have”)

20:40-21:51 (this is where the bodyguard bit comes up!)

27:33 (“kill these magma cream for me please bc I am weak” also “I should probably have my armour on in the nether and when protecting someone who doesn’t have armour on”)

29:09 (tubbo gets ranboo to kill a ghast for him)

36:53 (“come on ranboo, you gotta protect me here big man” “I am, I am” - also they immediately find michael here. Ranboo spots him and tubbo names him)

Archive dot org is a little slow to load (at least for me) but it does get there eventually so don’t worry if it’s like.. 10 or something minutes of waiting for it to start. once u start ur prob only going to get like At Most a minute or so of pauses every now and then (again a little annoying but this is the only copy we have of the vod as far as i know)

you can either search for the title (I think idk I haven’t tried) or what I do is just type in tubbo and scroll through until I find the vod with the title. hope this helps!!

[gallickingun]

stardust in our bones {constellations on our skin} || i.m.

SUMMARY: Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain, his masterpieces hung in the form of scars and freckled skin. Sometimes he is overwhelmed by the very public display of his failures, unable to be dismissed even from far away. But you are always there to remind him that even if he is a little damaged, he will always be beautiful in your eyes. And maybe he can come to learn that his scars are but reminders that even if you break, you are not broken. 

This is essentially a few different scenes/scenarios all rolled into one fic about Izuku’s freckles and scars. I hope you love it!

PAIRING: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: mentions of blood, language, smut, dom/sub scenes, scars, mild violence mention, breeding kink, daddy kink, etc. WORD COUNT: 28.4k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is in the replies of this post! message me to be added/removed!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the labor of love that i have produced for my other half @freckledoriya ♡ i hope that this meets your expectations, as it is probably one of the only midoriya fics i will ever write lol. katsuki baby i am so sorry also big shoutout to @k-atsukidayo for making this beautiful header image for me and always reminding me that i’m not as garbage as i think i am ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

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Some call him disfigured or discolored.

They focus much too heavily on the outer turmoil taking its toll on his skin instead of the implications of what is happening within his body – the struggle in seeing himself this way and coming to terms with all that he has lost, marked on his body forever in the form of scars.

Marred flesh, crooked knuckles, gnarled bones.

He relives his trauma every time he looks in a mirror, another cut turned to pinkened scar, another use of his quirk marking his body permanently with a plethora of the color red. He wonders for a moment if he will ever feel whole again, or if he will always see himself as this patchwork thing that the universe toys with by ripping apart just to sew it back together again.

Izuku Midoriya is a mausoleum of pain.

And yet, despite all his physical fallacies, you still find him beautiful.

You watched on in horror as his body took on the tolls of being a hero throughout his time at Yuuei. You were but a young, quirkless teenager, begging for a hero who reminded you of what hope used to taste like. Now, after All Might’s demise, your tongue turns sour and anything that might have resembled hope burns to ash in your mouth.

Then Izuku Midoriya became a Pro Hero at the very agency you’ve been working at and you felt that familiar warmth of hope starting to take root in your chest, driving out that darkness that settled once the world lost All Might.

Deku is kind, much kinder than the average man. Or hero, for that matter.

He stops by your desk at least once a week, with either coffee or something sweet, in addition to his paperwork. He’ll chat with you, leaning over your counter with those sparkling emerald eyes, and you start to realize you can get lost in him. He is a gentle reprieve from your otherwise mundane day.

And in the beginning, you saw sun-kissed skin littered with a dark sprinkling of freckles, like little constellations burned into him by the sun. His cheeks are like the expanse of the night sky and you wonder to yourself when he leans in close if you might could find some stars you recognize.

As you grow closer, minutes turned into hours turned into lunch outings, you realize that you truly misjudged how deep his scars run.

They are not just on the surface, but rather cutting deep into his soul until he is marked at the very essence, clouded eyes ever present when he recounts a tale that brought forth yet another scar. You want to reach out and brush his cheeks, but you must restrain yourself because he is a Pro Hero and you are but an office manager, quirkless and insignificant to him.

You busy yourself with memorizing the patterns on his face and neck. You allow your mind to wander from time to time, trailing your gaze down to his exposed collarbones or torso, depending on how rough a mission might leave his suit. When it’s torn at the thighs, you can’t help but to see the smattering of pale freckles against his otherwise tanned skin.

Izuku is kind, you remind yourself as he approaches you with paperwork tucked into his side. There is no other explanation for his long, drawn out talks at your desk, or the flowers currently adorning your countertop.

“Hey, sorry,” he unfurls the bundled package of papers and lays them flat on your desk, “this week has been insane, lots’a villains on the loose. Which I guess just means more paperwork for everyone, huh?”

You chuckle at him, thumbing through the first few sheets to make sure he’s got it all in order. There really is no doubt in your mind that it’s all laid out exactly how it should, that’s just how Deku is, but you want him stationary at your desk for a little while longer, so you check it anyway.

“And more bruises for you heroes,” you smile, tilting your head upward so you can catch the glint in his eyes. “How are you today?”

Midoriya begins to rattle off a long string of muttered words while you check the paperwork. You don’t mind that you can’t necessarily understand everything he’s saying, just to hear the sound of his voice is enough to satiate you for the rest of the day. You smile and nod when you think you should, the smell of the flowers on your desk more intoxicating now that he’s here.

“-I, well, you see, I guess that since I saved their shop, they said I could have unlimited meals, and I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to go?”

You bite your lip, reigning yourself in because of course he just wants to go out for lunch. There’s nothing more to it. You have been to lunch with him several times, extended breaks thanks to both his hero status and your extra hours you work here and there.

“Sure,” you answer, “we can go over the new manual, I have a few-”

“No.”

You cock your head, brow furrowing, “B-But -I”

Deku shakes his head, green curls bobbing against his forehead, his undercut even more obvious now, “N-No, I mean, I want to go, but like, I want you to go with me.”

“I would be-”

“Without the paperwork.”

“Oh.”

The two of you share a look for longer than necessary and now the flowers’ perfume grows stronger, almost sickeningly sweet as your stomach flips. You rack your brain for the words to say, but each syllable dies on your tongue, sparking against a taste bud. You want to pinch yourself to ground your mind into this version of reality where Deku wants to go on a date with you is the current situation, but you can’t move, frozen in place by his expectant stare.

It must take you too long to respond because Izuku launches into another muttering rant, apologizing profusely as he blushes from head to toe. Your lips tug into a smile at the sight of his freckles against his reddened skin, and that little break from your psychotic prison allows you to reach forward and grasp him by the hand.

Deku’s jaw snaps shut, eyes widened as he looks down at you, gaze piercing through you as if he had slung a spear through your soul. He’s got a hold on you, he has since the day you first met, but now you know that he’s had you hook, line, and sinker and there was no way you could ever come up for air.

Not that you’d want to.

“I’d love to,” you tell him, voice soft.

His smile matches your own and he squeezes your fingers, the scars on his hands rigid against his otherwise smooth skin, “It’s a date.”

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As time passed, the bruised ribs and shattered bones multiple. The Pro Hero, Deku, is well-known for his gnarled hand, knuckles swollen, and scars carved into his body like veins in a slab of marble. He finds you after each mission, wrapped in gauze and taped back together, and you are the one left to mend the untouchable pieces of him once the surgeons have done all that they can for the surface wounds.

“You should be more careful,” you warn him, hands reaching for his face to palm over his cheeks in worry.

Midoriya laughs, but it is cut short by a wince as he grabs for his rib cage. You lurch forward to steady his frame, but it is of no use, his palm already outstretched to keep you at bay. The frown on your face only deepens at his motions, your brow furrowing together to wrinkle the skin of your forehead.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you once he can stand up right to his full height again, “thank you, for coming and picking me up.”

The pads of your hands find his face again, thumbs pressed into his cheeks, fingerprints grazing over the speckled skin. It’s as if you’re counting them to make sure that none of them have been wiped away from the last time you saw him; like you could keep track of them like inventory if you tried hard enough. The furrow in your brow tells him that he hasn’t done a good enough job at reassuring you, so he steps closer, a knee between your thighs, “I promise I’m okay. They patched me up! All better now.”

All better now.

The words seem shallow, like they can’t possibly touch all of the broken pieces between the two of you. Every time he bares his soul on the battlefield, he comes away changed, a different person than you last saw. He won’t show the world, but at least he will show you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is cutting, patience wearing thin, jaw quivering under the sheer force of the bite of your teeth, “And what about the next time, when they can’t fix you?”

Deku does not have an answer for you then, the question weighing between the two of you like the world caught between your shoulders. At least the answer he can think up is not one that he wants you to hear, let alone one you might take in stride.

Instead of trying to babble on about the efficiencies of agency surgeons and statistics and whatnot, he takes you by the wrists, circling his fingers around your pounding pulse. A gentle laugh bubbles in his chest and it makes you forget about the pain he has to be in for but a mere moment as he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m a hero,” Izuku answers, voice grating against his throat as his eyes bore into you like he’s telling you some enormous secret you must keep to yourself, “and the hero always wins. No matter what.”

As much as your bleeding, apologetic heart wants to believe him, to lap up every word that he’s spewing to you like syrup, your mind can’t quite agree. You’ve spent too many late nights lying awake, wondering when you’ll get the call that he has fallen prey to a villain’s decaying touch, or when he will have been captured and tortured to the brink of insanity, a shell of the man he used to be all that’s left when they find him. Every horror story has played out on the back of your eyelids when you fall asleep, and yet you know there will never be anything you can do to put him back in the little box you first found him in, to protect him and keep him safe.

You push all of those thoughts away, knowing that they will only dampen your spirit for now, and you’d much rather focus on his darling freckled face while you take your afternoon walk. He insists, despite his injuries, that he won’t miss an afternoon walk with you. And it appears that he’s healing even as more time passes, the lingering effects of Recovery Girl’s quirk in combination with quirk-laced drugs mending his body after he’s left the operating room.

Taking in the sight before you – this beautiful, Adonis-like man, with golden cheeks and an innocent sheen in his glittering green irises – you’re overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him, so you charge forward and do just that. Your hands find his neck, searching for the hairline lightning strike scars that litter his body from past injuries and fights.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep your eyes open so you can watch as his translucent lids flutter, orbs moving beneath the skin as he’s unsure of what part of you in his imagination to settle on. This way you’re able to see as the apples of his cheeks slowly start to burn deeper shades of red to match his ears and neck.

As you pull away, falling back onto your heels, you drink him in as the light glimmers down on his skin, making him look almost golden in the afternoon sunshine. There is a string connected to your heart that tugs whenever you see the man standing before you, and now is no exception.

“C’mon,” you slot your knuckles between his, tenderly brushing your thumb over the large expanse of scar tissue on the back of his palm, “let’s go.”

Izuku pulls you closer and it’s like another piece of him has fallen into place, your body slotting just right against his side, like you were made for each other. One to match the other, a balance to end all imbalances.

A complete set.

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The knock on your door makes you jump, shuddering beneath your fleece blanket.

You rub your eyes and stand to your feet, leaving the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It’s late, so you imagine it’s most likely just a package delivery.

You’re beyond surprised to see a bleeding Izuku Midoriya slumped forward, using his forearm to hold himself steady in your doorway. You gasp, your blanket dropping away from your shoulders to pool at your feet, launching yourself forward to catch him before he can topple to the ground.

“Izuku,” you gasp, tucking yourself beneath him so he can use you for support.

He laughs, but it turns into a wheezing string of coughs. You help him hobble through the threshold towards the kitchen, sitting him down close to the sink so you can clean him up. Tilting his head back, you look into his eyes and pray that they dilate. When his pupils shrink, you let loose a breath held captive in your lungs.

It’s hard not to think about the reality that this will add another scar to his tally. His whole body seems like a counter, really, with strikes and slashes marring his skin, turning it pink and keeping track of every battle.

Midoriya reaches up to cradle your face in his palm, fingertips brushing over the smooth skin of your cheeks, directly contrasted with his own rough complexion, “I needed to see you.”

“No,” you shake your head and squat down in front of him, tears stinging the backs of your eyes as you try to take in every part of him that’s bleeding, “you need to see a doctor!”

Before you can protest him any further, Izuku leans forward to crush your mouth beneath his own. He whimpers in pain as he kisses you, but it doesn’t stop him. In fact, it almost stirs him forward, spurring him to cup your face with his hands as tears track down to cut through the crimson lines on his cheeks.

Izuku Midoriya is nothing short of an enigma. Here he is, bruised and bleeding, but he wrought his way to find you despite all of the pain. You wish you could burden some of it on his behalf, taking up the mantle of his own personal Atlas, meant to shoulder the weight of his existence so he can catch a quick breath.

His forehead touches yours as he pulls away, a sobbing gasp parting his mouth, “I’ll be fine. I just need you.”

You brush his hair away from his eyes, forcing him to look at you with the tender turn of your wrist. His right eye is bruised and swelling itself shut, blood caked from his brow to his jaw, pouring steadily from the wound he’s got split open on his head.

The only thought running through your mind, creating a path of worn ground against your cerebrum, is that this will be but another one to add to the collection; another piece of art to hang in his mausoleum. Judging by the amount of blood caked in his hair and brow, and the depth of the wound, it will surely leave a tattered scar of flesh behind.

An errant thought crosses your mind then – will he have such painful memories of this specific wound? Or will he recall this one to be the scar that brought him back to you?

You can’t help it when your lower lip trembles. You can never be surprised at the story of this scar’s origin – it will be engrained in your mind forever. Despite your adoration for the hero, you share in his pain, your own body wincing as a new trickle of crimson stains his temple. You tense your jaw, the muscles in your neck quivering under the strain of your ministrations. Even if he remembers this night fondly, you know that every time you glance at the healed section of his body, you’ll remember his tears, his debilitating pain.

“I’m calling Toshinori,” you grit your teeth, steeling your will, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“I let him know I was coming.” Izuku inhales in short bursts; it’s all his chest can handle before splintering pain streaks through his lungs like lightning. He winces as he shifts, one hand drifting to your hip. He dips his thumb beneath the fabric of your top, a shirt he recognizes as his own based on the size of it as it fully engulfs your figure. His logo is on the center, bright green text in stark contrast to the dark grey fabric.

A wave of pride swells within him, starting at the base of his back and building upward like effervescent champagne bubbles floating to the surface. He opens his mouth to set them free in the form of smothering kisses, his lips traveling to every available expanse of your skin he can find.

Deku is a force of nature, a whirlwind you cannot reckon with, so instead you succumb to him.

You allow him to swallow you whole for the first time, diving deeper into the eye of his storm until he is swirling around you and suffocating you. But you do not care. If this is how you have to go, with his tongue holding you hostage, hands like anchors on your hips, dragging you deeper until all you know is the darkness, then you are fine with that.

You’d gladly drown as long as he was the one holding you down.

But Izuku Midoriya is not the dark. He is anything but.

So, instead of burning your breath with his own oxygen, he fills you to the brim with light. He is a sunbeam incarnate, pushing through every crack in your bones to cement them with his kindness. His fingers, while biting into your hips, send a singing sensation up into your skin until you can’t help but smile into his kiss. They are rough with tattered flesh, scars of the past and present plaguing his body like a parasite, eating away at his skin until no longer has anything left to give.

Deku doesn’t wince when you sink down on top of him, settling your body against his thighs. Instead he wraps his arms around you to give you some kind of solace, palms searching your shoulders for the perfect place to rest. His fingers are warm beneath your shirt as his fingers seek out the curve of your spine.

The pure thickness of his body is not lost on you, not now. ­Your hands travel over his shoulders, his muscles rippling beneath the pads of your fingers. You shiver when he holds you closer, your chest flush with his, the tactile pleasure from his rough skin making your toes curl.

His shoulders are riddled with tiny, slicing scars, a light pink color in contrast to his standard tanned skin. You look for scar after scar, appreciating the damaged parts of him just as much as the smooth ones. You moan when both of his hands squeeze your waist, the pure size of him a gentle reminder as his palms engulf your ribs, his knuckles counting the bones as he runs his hands up and down.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmurs as he disconnects his mouth from yours, tears settled in his irises, making them glassy, “the villain I-I fought, th-they had a canceling quirk, and they almost got me.”

You know that got me is the safer, calmer equivalent of killed me. His kindness oozes like honey into every facet of him, filling the cracks like veins of marble. Your heart squeezes within your chest at the reality that he could have been lost to you, and suddenly the wounds on his body matter a little less.

No, now it is all about having him here, dense and hot beneath your body. Your fingertips tremble at the thought of him being a ghost of the past, something you once had a hold of, but now is nothing but a memory. You feel hot tears drip over your lashes, clumping up at the base of your eyelids as they flow freely. You sniffle, your hands finding the back of his head to cradle tenderly.

Izuku’s voice is soft, his cheeks gleaming red as he admits his next words, “You were all I could think about.”

Your voice breaks with a sob and you hold him tight around the neck, surging forward to kiss him soundly on the mouth. Izuku wraps his arms around your whole body, holding you snugly as he tilts his head for a better angle. You relish in the warmth he provides, his solid presence giving you comfort as you try to drink him in, pushing aside all the thoughts of potentially never having him like this again.

It’s not even about the way your stomach turns as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, or how hot your body grows as he engulfs you like a flame. No, it is something beautiful and pristine, something that curls around your spine and bolsters it, holding you upright with confidence. Izuku has given you something you haven’t had in so long that you almost can’t put a name to it.

Peace.

There is an undeniable calm that washes over you whenever he is around, whether it be by distance or severe closeness. He suffocates you in his light no matter how far away he is; purely by knowing that he is alive, your heart quiets in your chest. You feel safer as you walk down the streets, the very notion that he will always be there, watching from wherever he may be, builds your bones stronger so you can walk with confidence.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you gasp, coming up for air. You don’t go far, your nose nudging over his cheek as you pant quickly, your chest heaving. “I-I can’t do this without you.”

“Hey,” Deku’s voice is calm, his palms reaching up the back of your shoulders to cover you entirely in his heat. All you want is to coat yourself in him from top to bottom, let him claim you however he needs to, so you never have to let this go. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You open your eyes as he nudges his nose over the bow of your lips, kissing your chin tenderly. Your pupils dilate as you take in the smattering of dark freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks, painting his skin erratically so that you know he must be a work of art, a gift from the gods down to mankind. He is too perfect to be anything else.

Your forehead drops as you let out a shaky breath, steadying yourself with your grip on his shoulders. “I-I know, I just…”

Izuku repositions his hands so they’re beneath your top, the warm pads of his fingertips leaving a blazing trail of fire behind as he maps out the curves of your body. You watch as his ripped costume falls in tattered shreds on his shoulders, giving way to the pretty expanse of skin usually hidden beneath it.

The sight of his flayed skin, coated in scars and painted with beauty marks, makes your spine rattle within your frame. Your fingers drift to the bared parts of his body on instinct, a primal need settling in the pit of your stomach, and you trace over the white, lightning-like scars. Your thumb brushes over his collarbone, as if you could sweep away his freckles to leave behind unmarked skin.

Your mind wanders, thoughts branching out to wonder if there even is a patch of his skin that is pure, unmarred by any form of markings.

Izuku must follow your train of thought, because he peels his hands away from your body to tug his costume at the waist, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor before he pulls his shirt over his head, or what remains of it. The tattered fabric is in a bloody, dirty heap on the floor, but you barely have the wherewithal to notice when he is bared in front of you.

A gasp parts your mouth when you take in his nude torso. He is a plethora of contours and shadows, sinew holding his muscles together in a taut fashion. Your hands are hovering in front of his chest, darkened nipples piqued under the cool air blowing from the vent above. You have to force yourself to swallow, pent-up tension making your throat bob.

“See?” Izuku’s voice is hoarse, as if he’s holding himself back from tears, “I’m right here.”

Your eyes try to find a part of him that isn’t doused in speckles, the darkened patches of skin making him look even tanner. He has them sprinkled all over his body, clumps of them gathering together like tiny nebulas. Your gaze slowly drags down from his collarbones to his abdomen, the freckled dots like destinations on a treasure map, leading you to one central location.

When you make eye contact with the trail of dark hair that starts at his navel, thin and then growing thicker, you feel your stomach turn over. You lick your drying lips, a heat beginning to build up in your core. You would clench your thighs together, but the way you’re straddling him currently makes that impossible. Instead, you roll your hips forward so you can scoot further up his lap.

It’s like you don’t believe what you see in front of you – that he’s truly here, open and bare in front of you, vulnerable in every sense of the word. The wound on his head has stopped bleeding, but that doesn’t mean that he’s okay.

“Touch me.”

You tilt your head, confused by his forward command. Your cheeks burn bright with a blush and he chuckles at the sight of you so flustered. Midoriya takes you by the hands, guiding your touch to his chest first.

The tips of your fingers blaze when they find a ragged scar that stretches across the entirety of his pectoral, “I have so many of these ugly things.”

“How many?” you find yourself asking, the filter hard to find when he has you about ready to come undone like this. You feel yourself go lightheaded, hazy at the feel of his rough skin, his heart beating irregularly beneath your touch.

His voice is heavy when he answers, “I lost count.”

Your eyes snap upward to find the usual playful green color of his irises has faded to a pale jade shade, “Izu, hey-”

Deku swallows an emotional lump in his throat, eyelids fluttering at the pain of it before he inhales a full breath. His chest brushes up against yours and you have to withhold the whine that desperately wants to slip from your lips.

“I don’t understand why people are so fascinated with them,” his tone is teetering on the wrong side of angry, lips curled in a downward snarl. He glances south at the rest of his body, pale scars in stark contrast to the rest of his tanned body. “They’re just reminders of my failure.”

You are forceful when you pull his jaw upward, yanking him to face you before you kiss him harshly. Your intense kiss makes him gasp, his hips rolling up into you despite the pain he’s in. Your palms are bruising on his cheeks, but you don’t care because at least he’s kissing you. Deku’s fingertips finally make their way to your hips where he seeks purchase against your ribcage. His digits are tantalizing as he roams the expanse of your midsection.

“You’re my hero,” your voice is breathless and broken when you release him for oxygen. “Don’t you ever call yourself a failure again.”

Izuku’s throat bobs as he basks in your ferocity – eyes ablaze and fingertips harsh as you hold him in place. He finds himself nodding without really knowing what you’ve said, but he supposes that’s just the effect you have on him. You have taken root in his soul, the galaxy in your eyes blacking out everything else in his mind, allowing him not even a moment to let self-doubt creep in and steal away his faith.

After all, in his eyes, you are his whole world, shattered stars and all.

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“You picked dinner, so I get to pick the movie,” you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, your palms splayed against his chest as you press kisses into his shoulder blades.

You’re obsessed with his back, like some little secret you don’t get to see very often. Tonight the two of you were doing yoga before you ate dinner, so he’s currently clad in only a pair of compression pants that reach his mid-calf, leaving his entire upper body for you to appreciate with your gaze and explorative touches.

You nose over the curve of his spine, kisses open-mouthed as he washes the dishes in the sink. You hear his breath hitch and you wonder if now is a good time to start experimenting with how far you can go. Your eyes roam to the base of his spine, the two small dimples at the start of the swell of his ass making your mouth salivate. You relinquish one hand from his chest to dip your thumb into the cavity his muscles have created, brushing against a cluster of freckles.

It has been some time since you’ve seen him with his shirt off, and many times since then, but you’ve never been able to discover what’s below his belt. Your mind wanders as you suppress the itch in the base of your fingerprints, like the very code of you is designed to strip him down to nothing. You want to know how far his freckles truly go.

In your mind, you believe that he is sprinkled with stardust, paler patches of freckles sporadically placed along his body. He is a canvas, fresh and ready for the constellations to burn into his flesh. You want to swirl your hands over the galaxies imprinted upon him by the gods themselves; as if he were made of marble, ready to carve and curate however they may please.

You take a leap of faith when you dip your fingertips beneath the tight waistband of his joggers. The aborted stutter of his hips combined with the sharp intake of breath from his throat tells you all you need to know.

From here you can see clusters of freckles on the globes of his ass, concentrated mostly near the top, where sunlight can penetrate when he’s not in his hero suit. You have to catch yourself before you drip drool onto his curved backside.

The hand on his chest roams until you find his pebbled nipple, the crevices of your palm washing over the flesh until you hear a muted moan shake his throat. You lean forward, forehead tucked between the cartilage of his shoulder blades so you can feel the heat radiating from him even closer now.

“Can I-”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard him beg before, at least not like this.

It has been some time since your first date, since the first kiss, since the first confession. Your hands start to sweat at the thought of touching his salacious side, pricking with anticipation as you slowly make your way around his hip towards the bulge in his pants. Your tongue stills within your throat as you brush your thumb against the thick tufts of dark green hair at the base of his stomach beneath his navel.

His body is like a roadmap leading you to one desolate place, his skin singing with heat as you grow closer. You can almost make out a whine that he’s clamped his teeth down on to suppress, but that does nothing to deter you from finding a dozen other ways to elicit an infinite number of those same prurient sounds from his lungs.

When the outside of your palm brushes against the throbbing thickness held tight within his spandex, you feel your whole-body tense. Izuku gulps audibly and you have to hold in something that is a mix of a gasp and a giggle.

You reach your free hand down from his chest to pull at the band of his pants, freeing his cock from the confines of the fabric. You can hear the bob of it against his stomach and you let out a heated breath that spills down over his spine. He shivers and you think that maybe you have him just as captivated as he usually has you.

The thought is thrilling. It bolsters your confidence and allows you the audacity to lean forward and slowly trail your fingers along the base of his cock, tickling him in the most tentative way possible. He grits his teeth and you can feel his buttocks clench in front of you as he tries his hardest not to buck forward and ruin your moment.

You kiss the smattering of freckles near the top of his right shoulder, lavishing the area with your tongue as you trail your thumb up the base of his cock until you reach the tip. You can feel the bead of pre-come beneath the print of your finger and you collect it with the ridges of your digit before dragging it downward to coat him before you begin to pump your hand.

He is thick in your hand, unforgivingly hard as his cock pulses within your grasp. You can tell that it’s taking all of his restraint not to throw his head back and release obscene sounds from his throat, like his desire is caged within his chest, begging to be let out with each erratic heartbeat.

Your tongue licks over his shoulders and you know that he must be imagining what your mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock based on the mewling whimpers that leave his tongue. You can hear him panting, but you want to see him, desperate and whining, so you tug on his waistline with your free palm.

It takes him a moment, his eyes glistening with bliss and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, but you manage to get him turned so he’s facing you. Your eyes drag slowly down the entire expanse of his torso, catching on his pert nipples, bright and pink as they shrink beneath the stinging touch of your fingertips. You catch onto the constellations of freckles drifting along his torso – if you look hard enough, you swear that they move. Your eyes cross when you look too closely, so instead you allow your attention to drop lower.

Izuku’s mouth is wide open as your eyes fall to the vee of his hips, the paler freckles placed there making you smile. You lower yourself to your knees, semi-uncomfortable thanks to the tile of the kitchen, but you don’t care. Right now, your focus is singled in on one thing and one thing alone.

You lick your lips and the closeness of your tongue to his cock makes Izuku blush in expectancy. There is a little line of drool seeping from the corner of his mouth if you blink your eyes free of lust. You pump him another time in your hand, collecting the new wash of pre from his tip to lubricate his cock. As you do so, your eyes drift to the base of him where his green pubic hair collects in a dark tuft. You can’t decide which part of him to focus on because it’s all too much.

Somehow, he has a scar that runs from the innermost part of his thigh upward, just beneath his balls. You wince at the thought of what had to have caused that, and how much it hurt. You allow one hand to drift over the scar as your eyes come into contact with the patch of freckles hidden beneath the trail of dark, coarse hair that is usually hidden by his clothing.

As you pump your hand down to the base of him, you use your thumb to brush some of the hair away, curious as to how dark the freckles are there. Izuku is completely maddened by your touch, fallen under the enchantment of your hands. He doesn’t even mind that you’ve taken a break from dragging your soft hand around his dick, his mind already blitzed from the short burst of ministrations you have already administered.

You hum as you kiss along the taut skin of his lower abdomen, dragging your lips and tongue towards the thick trail of hair that leads you to his cock. It’s almost like the freckled areas taste different, although you’ve probably made all of that up in your mind. And yet, you don’t mind that it’s more of a fantasy instead of a reality, relishing in the sweetness, nonetheless.

“Fuck,” you hear from above you, one of his hands hung in midair, unsure of whether to grab you or the counter. The other palm grips into his hair and the scalp, tugging to keep himself grounded so he does not float away at the gentle caress of your tongue against his skin.

The bow of your lips purses as you kiss upward to the head of his cock, bright red and teeming with pre-come. The silvery, pearlescent bud of arousal makes your mouth water and you find that you can’t help yourself as you encircle your lips around the tip of him.

Izuku is immediately broken from whatever resilience he was able to gather, his hips bucking forward as he slams both hands into the counter. Little broken bits of marble fall into your hair but you don’t care, instead indulging yourself in watching his reaction to your movements. Midoriya’s pupils are blown wide, completely taken over his usually wide irises. The green bleeds black, lust like a cloud misting in his line of sight.

As his upper body tenses, you’re able to see every contour of muscle, every cord of sinew, and you can’t help it when drool dribbles down your chin onto the tile floor. You moan against the head of his cock, taking another inch of him in as you slide forward to get more comfortable. The sound of his nails creaking against the countertop makes your cunt flutter from within the cotton of your panties, clenching around nothing as you imagine the thickness of him in your mouth against your glutinous walls, squeezing him for all the come he can produce.

You trail one hand around the curling scars on his thigh, thumbprint finding the ridges of the expansive scar, the raised skin making your heart ache for a moment before you refocus on his dick. Your eyes almost cross as you try to focus on the freckles now hidden once more by the thick green hair at the bottom of his belly.

As you retreat backward, your line of sight continues down the length of his cock to realize that he has a littering of freckles of varying shapes, sizes, and colors, scattered all along the entire shaft of his dick, and even a few on the tip. You can’t help it when you smile, licking at them as if they could be removed if you lapped at the skin harshly enough.

It is the small things such as this that make your time with Izuku Midoriya so enjoyable. You are learning something about him every day, something even more interesting and exciting than the last.

Before you can slip your lips further down his length, his hand reaches up to clean the debris from your hair, a broken apology parting his lips momentarily. You look up at him, the tenderness in his touch making your heart go soft.

“H-Holy,” his hips buck forward when you blink up at him, the base of his throat bobbing as he curses, “shit.”

As you pull away from his cock, Izuku’s chest shudders as he tries to regulate his breathing. He shifts his feet on the tile beneath you trying to keep himself from pushing up onto the balls of his toes so he can keep some semblance of control as you pleasure him.

Izuku turns away from you and you whine, your tongue licking the underside of his cockhead before you ask, “Why won’t you look at me?”

He can barely force the words out of his throat as he gazes down at you briefly, the sounds coming forth berated and bedraggled, as if he’d dragged barbed wire across the syllables, “I can’t, damn it. I-I’m gonna-”

You take advantage of the line of sight he has on you, opening your mouth wide and taking him in one fell sucking motion.

Midoriya chokes on his own drool, a little silvery string of it falling in midair until it creates a droplet on the crown of your head. He can’t even find the focus to apologize, his knuckles white as he grips the countertop to keep himself sane.

The word he squeaks out next makes you smile, your teeth grazing his dick: “-come.”

You take it as a challenge, gripping his thighs with your nails, digging crescent moons into his pretty tan skin, adding the shapes to his star-like freckled skin, creating a whole galaxy with a simple bruising touch. Izuku can’t help it as his hips stutter forward, the tip of his cock bucking into the back of your mouth to make you gag.

He’s not sure how you do it, with his cock jammed all the way into the back of your throat, but somehow you have the wherewithal to cup his balls in one hand as the other uses his leg like an anchor to stay hovering on your toes. You never cease to amaze him, even now as you’re on your knees and worshipping his cock like your life might depend on it.

“Touch me,” you whimper as you come up for air, “if you won’t look at me, touch me, please.”

Izuku licks his lips and barely has it in him to pull his hand from the counter, but somehow, he manages it. His hand threads through your locks, fingertips buzzing with a mixture of adrenaline and desire. The lust has his whole being singing with anticipation as you bring him to the precipice of arousal. He knows that he won’t last much longer, especially not with you drooling around his cock and bobbing your head in perfect rhythm. And now that he can feel you beneath his fingers, he’s not sure if he’ll even be able to speak coherently when this is all over with.

His hands are exploratory in your hair, dipping in and out of your tresses like waves, finding your scalp to scratch lightly, eliciting a husky moan from your throat. The vibrations of your sounds make his cock pulse, twitching against your tongue as you suck him deeper. Izuku isn’t sure how there is anymore of your throat for him to fuck, but when you hollow out your cheeks, he slides further in, and the pleasure starts to coil around the base of his spine as he’s worked towards his high.

“Baby, I-I’m close,” Izuku manages to blurt when he’s coherent enough, your tongue sweeping down the vein on the underside of his dick. He gasps for breath, his head hanging forward, so his dark curls sweep over his lashes to hide his pretty orbs from you. He grunts, as he ruts up into you, “Real close, hell.”

You take it as a challenge, stiffening your posture so you can force your head up and down, spit dribbling from your mouth and onto your pants, but you don’t care. The way his hands grip into your scalp and the quivering of his thighs as he holds off his own release are but a war cry for you, begging your body to go further, to force that release from within his body.

“Come for me, Izu,” you whimper against his cock, the words muffled by the thick skin of him. You try your best to pout, looking innocent with eyes blown wide, “Please, I wanna taste you. So bad.”

His jaw falls slack, and you know that he’s close, his tip is practically rock hard against your teeth. You hollow out your cheeks and moan as you slowly suck him as hard as you can manage with your jaw starting to ache from the stretch of him. Your pussy clamps around nothing, begging for his girth within your walls.

A few heaving breaths stretch his chest, the muscles of his pectorals rippling in strain as he tries to hold himself back, to respectfully come undone instead of sputtering out like a teenager. You nod with his cock still in your mouth, your tongue padding over the sensitive underside. A wuthering whimper breaks within his throat and you feel his thighs clench one final time before he’s coming apart between your cheeks.

You try to breathe through your nose, his cock buried all the way in your mouth so his come hits in spurts against the back of your throat. You use your hands dug into the plush flesh of his ass to steady yourself, his body uncaring to the pain as long as he’s bucking up into your mouth. His hand in your hair goes tight before falling slack, gentle fingertips wafting through your tresses aimlessly.

You tilt your head back as he begins to soften within your lips, trying to keep his come from dribbling out the corners of your mouth. You catch most of it, the slightly sweet taste of it helping it to go down smoother. You suck him one more time, trying to pull the rest of the arousal from his slit, and a high-pitched whine breaks through the calm of the air like shattering glass.

“S-Sorry,” he moans as his eyes screw shut, one of his palms latching onto the countertop again.

A content laugh turns your lips upward and you kiss the head of his cock before he helps you rise back to your feet. Before you’re upright again, he bolsters forward to kiss you square on the lips. His tongue delves between your teeth, mapping out the curves of your gums as he tastes his spend in each crevice of your mouth.

The moan that reverberates from his chest makes your toes curl, your hands curling to fists against his chest as he presses further into you, trying to be flush with your entire body. You can barely breath as he suffocates you lovingly, bringing stars into your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands spread out over the plane of his chest, the tips of your fingers searching for his scars, the placement of them burnt into your mind like a map.

Deku pulls away with a panting string of apologies mixed with appreciation, his irises overtaking his pupils now that he’s come down from his high. His hands search your face and then your arms, taking in every inch of you as he kisses all over your face.

You giggle, wrapping your fingers around his neck to play with the sharp hair at the nape of his neck, the undercut style making his locks dense and coarse up to his ears where the straight line runs.

“What movie do you want to watch?” you ask breathlessly, scrunching your nose as he kisses the tip of it.

Izuku is winded when he nudges his nose against yours, a laugh on the tip of his tongue, “I don’t fucking care.”

You roll your lips together, pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss his mouth chastely, “We might have to do that more often if I’m going to get whatever I want each time.”

The thought of you going down on him makes his heart stutter within the cage of his ribs, stars spread out and blinding against the backs of his lids. He can already imagine the sight of you on your knees, your lips around him as you moan and writhe while he holds your hair tight within his fist…

“Earth to Izuku?” you pat his cheek playfully. “You with us?”

His voice is stuttered as he answers you, a blissful glassiness still coating his irises, “Y-Yeah, I’m right here. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

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“C’mon, Princess, you can take it, I know you can,” he murmurs into midair, voice stern but breathy, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lick at the head of his cock, engorged and bright red, beads of pre-come bubbling out of his slit, awaiting you to catch them with your tongue. You lap over the taut, pinkened skin, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of him – a fine combination of salty and sweet. You can’t help the draw of your attention to the tanned splotches covering him like stardust, mapping out what would seem to be a different set of constellations every time you look too long.

Izuku’s hand is woven into your hair carefully, so he does not pinch your scalp, but he can still hold onto the makeshift ponytail he’s created with his fingers bunched around your tresses. You whimper, eyes torn from his freckled skin, as he guides your mouth closer to his cock, the head of him brushing against your closed lips.

His voice is thick with restraint, his throat bobbing at the sight of your pretty, jeweled irises looking between him and his cock, wondering how you’re going to take the thick of him between your plush little lips. Your eyes are almost crossed as you try to count his freckles, as if you could pay that close of attention when he’s got you on your knees.

“Gonna be a good girl for me, Angel?” Deku is patronizingly kind as he brushes his knuckles over the curve of your jaw. Your eyes zero in on the scarred stripes along his palm and forearm, your fingertips reaching up to slowly drag across the pale lines that tell a story you’ve heard a dozen times. Izuku makes an audible noise of consideration at your marveling, “You were just beggin’ me for my cock, and now you won’t even open your mouth for me?”

He sounds like he’s pouting, lower lip jutted out just enough for it to look convincing. You swallow your inhibitions, throat bobbing when he brushes his cock along the hollows of your cheeks, the head of him smearing what remains of his pre onto your skin. He chuckles as you gasp, your jaw hung open just enough for him to rut up into your mouth.

You gag around him, lurching forward as tears coat your lashes. You whimper, looking up to him like he might save you from what’s to come. But no, you asked for this. You begged him to let you taste his cock, to have him spill his fullest load onto your tongue and force you to swallow.

“Such a pretty girl,” his words turn to a moan as you take him to the base, forcing yourself to breathe evenly so you won’t gag around him again. His hand in your hair tightens and you take a deep breath, the short, stubbled pubic hairs surrounding his cock doing little to hide the freckles on his smooth skin.

You’re not sure why you love them so much – the freckles.

They are such a distraction that you don’t notice Izuku yanking you by the ponytail until you come off his cock with a loud pop. You whine, keening forward to try and lick at his tip, “I-Izu-please.”

“Uh uh,” he cinches his hand around your hair even tighter, tugging your skin backward until it burns. A smirk lilts his lips, “What’s my name, baby girl?”

Your eyes go wide, pupils swallowing your irises whole. Deku almost misses the color, if it not for the fucked out look that takes their place, telling him exactly what he’s done to you. He bites down on his lower lip, half-hooded lids considering you, “You’re already a mess for me, aren’t you baby? I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Your cock,” you whine, squinting your eyes so you don’t have to feel his authoritative penetrating your very being. Your thighs tense, pussy clamping down around nothing but thin air, wet with arousal and begging to be full of him. Before Izuku can tell you to correct yourself with a simple syllable, you repeat yourself, “Your cock, Daddy.”

A satisfied expression smooths his features, the red of his cheeks doing little to hide the smattering of freckles to match those littered across his cock and thighs. You brush your nose against his navel, kissing the gentle swell of muscle beneath it. Izuku licks his lips, hips rolling forward so his cock brushes over the length of your throat.

“That’s’a good girl.” Deku purses his lips as you kiss down his shaft, your tongue lapping over every inch of him. Your eyes are level with his pubic bone, searching for the tanned droplets of sunshine incarnate on his skin, hidden beneath dark tufts of jade hair curled around the base of his cock.

Before you take him between your lips, you lick a stripe from the underside of his shaft up to his navel. You can’t help yourself as the dark smattering of freckles call out to you, a reminder that even though he is tainted by the war of the world, you still have these small victories to come back to. You worship his taut skin with your lips and tongue, the muscle parting your mouth to lick at his body.

Izuku’s fingers weave into the hair at the base of your head, eyes watching you closely as you pay special attention to the various patches of densely packed freckles. You nose over his hipbone, breathing slowly, the wash of warmth prickling his skin and forcing him up on his toes as he reacts to it.

There is a large part of him that wants you to stop. Not because he’s selfish enough to force you to pay attention to the throbbing heat between his legs, but rather because your praise is something that makes him feel even more unworthy. He is self-conscious of his body, both the discolored spots that he’s never able to be rid of in tandem with the ragged rips in his flesh that you seem to love so much. He has never understood your fascination with his body, but you are relentless with your affections.

It comes in many forms. At times it is the way you run your fingertips over his shoulders when you’re laying together, and other times it is your mouth finding his knuckles when you think he’s asleep. You are unashamed to lavish his body with unending passion, and even the smallest of deformities that he believes are his secret, you manage to find.

You loll your tongue out to let the collected spit pool over his length, sucking at the head when you get to it. Deku rubs his thumb against your neck, fingertips searching your hair for purchase. He’s taken aback when you hollow out your cheeks, sucking him deep into the heat of your mouth. His eyes go wide, but he’s thankful you can’t see with the way his head is thrown back.

“Fuck, baby,” his hand twitches against your scalp, “fuck, this mouth.”

He starts rolling his hips forward, pumping himself in and out of your mouth like he might your pussy. You feel drool seeping out of the corners of your lips but you don’t dare break away, because that would bring forth a punishment, and your cunt is already sopping wet with the anticipation of his cock buried deep within you. Deku grunts, his chest vibrating with the sound, and he holds you still with the hand against your head.

You reach up to find his free palm, lacing your fingers together at the knuckle, using him as some sort of an anchor to reality as the subservient headspace begins to take over. It washes through you like a balm, a warm sensation that feels like home.  Your eyelids fall over your irises, hiding your expression from him, but he can tell the way you feel by your ministrations against his hand and on his cock. You are desperate for him, one hand clutching his thigh until your nails dig in and leave tiny crescent moon prints behind.

You like to think of his freckles as stars, your marks making him more like the night sky with each grip. You moan as you hold yourself at the base of him, tongue lapping around his length from within your mouth. Your thumb finds a familiar scar on the back of his hand, knuckles marred from battle and bravery.

It’s times like these that you want to cry for him, for what his body has endured. It’s the reason you want to worship every inch of him, to give him what he deserves because god knows the world will never give him back what he’s due. So here you sit, perched in front of him like a little dove, eyes blown to hell and your metaphorical wings spread wide as you take him for all he’s worth.

Izuku can’t take it any longer – the tenderness of your touch mixed with the obedient look in your eyes. It’s all too much, making his head spin at your sincerity.

“C’mere,” he whispers, tugging you by the throat, gently but firmly.

And you follow him, like you would follow him anywhere.

You step forward dumbly, blindly going wherever he tells you. He guides you to the bed, turning you over so your face is pressed into the coolness of the sheets, your bright red cheeks thankful for the change in temperature. You angle your ass upward perfect, round globes ripe for his hands to lay into.

“Such a sloppy little pussy, baby,” he murmurs against the skin of your lower back as he kisses down your spine. His middle finger runs up and down the length of your slit, collecting the silvery strands against his digit, “All this just for me?”

“All for you, Daddy, all for you, promise,” you’re whimpering out, cunt desperately clenched as you try to trap his finger in your heat. “Please, I want you so bad, need your cock, Daddy.”

Izuku pushes his finger into your core, curling it up towards that special spot that it seems only he can find. His finger is thick, knuckle curved in just the right way that it drags along your walls salaciously, eliciting a loud, careening moan from your mouth. You muffle your sounds into the mattress, but Midoriya is having none of that.

He yanks you by the throat, fingers digging deep into your skin until you’re sure that you’ll have bruises, “Nah uh, little one. I want to hear you scream for me.”

Midoriya pumps his finger into you mercilessly, your arousal coating him down to the palm, making your thighs slick. You whimper, your lewd sounds echoing off the walls. You can feel the tip of his cock against your ass, throbbing with heat, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from imagining it in place of his fingers.

“I know you can be louder, slut,” Deku pinches your neck tighter in his grip, “I want the neighbors to know my name when we’re through.”

You try to protest but it’s cut short when his finger rams into you, two knuckles deep, a sharp cry splitting your throat wide open. The sound morphs into a whimper, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes.

Deku leans forward to kiss between your shoulder blades, his voice hoarse with want when he speaks, “That’s my girl. Do it again.”

He relinquishes your throat to start slapping your ass, his eyes unable to fall away from your pretty skin marked red from his ministrations. You grit your teeth together so you can better withstand the pain, giving yourself something else to focus on besides his unrelenting spankings.

“Daddy, harder,” you whine, your ass stinging but not so much that you can’t follow through on your plea.

A dark chuckle reverberates throughout the room, Midoriya’s smirk from earlier returning. If you could see his eyes, you’d notice the way his pupils have completely overtaken his emerald orbs, giving way to the parts of him that want to make you hurt only so he can be the one to soothe you all better.

He indulges you, palm stretched wider so he can land harder smacks to your cheeks. Now he’s got two fingers in you, filling your cunt with his knuckles, the scars against them giving you friction that makes you see stars. He pumps you in time with his spankings, slow but merciless. Deku is careful not to go too far, no matter how difficult that might be with the lust that clouds his vision, painting his sight bright red.

“Good girl,” he rewards you by stopping, grabbing your plush ass in his fingertips, digging blunt nails into your skin so it stings even harsher.

You rut your hips back against his hand at the sudden jolt of pain, tears dripping from your eyelids to the mattress, staining the sheets a darker shade. You whimper, your mind unable to focus on any one stimulation – your ass, your cunt, or your throat.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” he asks, although you know it to be rhetorical.

You’re nodding your head anyway, desperately begging inaudibly for him to stuff you full, your cunt suffocating around his cock as he pounds into you. Deku slowly drags his hand from your pussy, words dripping just like your core, “What was that, Princess? I couldn’t hear you.”

Now you’re foaming at the mouth to force syllables from between your teeth, blubbering around tears. You sniffle, frustrated with your own headspace and timid with the thought of punishment for not answering quick enough, “Y-Yes, Daddy. I-I’m ready.”

“Hey,” he runs his hand, searing from the spankings, up the length of your spine, fingertips mapping out each vertebra, “you still with me, baby?”

You turn to look over your shoulder when he brushes his thumb over the little blooming bruises on your neck, evidence of his fingers claiming you for his own, “Yeah, I-I’m right here.”

A smile tugs on his lips, his fingers finally pulled from your sopping heat to coat his cock in your slick. You whimper at the loss of contact, cunt fluttering around nothing as you beg for him to fill you up again, any way he chooses.

And he obliges you, bottoming out within the first stroke.

You can’t help it when a fresh set of saltine droplets track down your cheeks, your head thrown back in pleasure as he holds himself steady, his pelvis flush with your ass. It still burns, the stinging of skin-on-skin doing little to quell the ache from his spankings. You lick your lips to try and soothe yourself in some way, your throat already crackling from use.

Licking your lips, you gently move back against him, encouraging him, “Daddy, I want you to fuck me. Please, won’t you fuck me?”

Deku sounds like he’s trying to hold back some sort of salacious sound, a strangled noise caught in his throat like barbed wire. You look back at him, chin pressed against your collarbone. It’s the sight of you that does him in, that wants to claim you for every ounce of what you’ve got to give. He wants to mark your body until there is no color remaining but bright purple and blue and red, bruises and scrapes alike adorning your pretty body, letting the whole world know exactly who you belong to.

The thought of sinking his teeth into every available spot of skin that he can find makes his fingers curl tighter around the supple skin of your thighs until you’re crying out for him. You writhe beneath him as opens his eyes, baring even your soul with his stare. His body squirms as he withstands the desire to launch himself at you, feral and promising with his teeth finding your pristine body and marring it for his own selfish cause.

At least then your bodies would match in their markings.

You’d be his own little galaxy; he muses as his hands massage into your thighs to keep himself busy, so he doesn’t follow through on the yearnings rolling around in his mind. He can see you stood next to him, your body littered in affections – hickeys that are blown out all around your body, little nebulas and planets with their swirling colors of purple and blue; long lines of bright pink scratch marks that streak forward like shooting stars curling around your muscles; pierced tooth marks that scatter across your body like stars.

Even though he’s the Number One Pro Hero, Izuku has never felt so whole until he’s balls deep in your pussy, the tip of him tucked up against your cervix so much so that you swear you feel him in your spine. He takes one palm to gently brush over your stomach, the bulge of his cock making his pride swell almost as much as your belly. You are his whole world, whether or not you are just as bruised and battered as he is. He will bear the burden of the scars if it means he can have you like this forever.

“Take me so well, Princess,” he murmurs into the skin of your shoulders, leaning forward so his chest is pressed flush with your back.

He is hot, but not unbearably so. Almost in a way that reminds you he is still there, an anchor for your soul to latch onto in the darkness of the room, holding you firmly to tether you to this version of reality. You grasp the sheets in your hands, desperate to feel him but unable to from this position, so you settle for the thread count instead.

“Please, Daddy, I want to feel you,” you beg him again, whimpers bubbling up into your chest like champagne bubbles. The effervescent feeling is almost too much, too overwhelming, as it rushes to your head quickly. You have to close your eyes, so you do not get dizzy. You see stars as your lids come down over your pupils and the sight of them reminds you of Izuku’s body. So much so that you want to look up at him again, begging him with your words, “Want to touch you.”

Deku obliges you, slowly pumping his tremoring cock in and out of your heat, coating himself in your slick before twisting your body around so you can peer up at him through half-lidded eyes, “Look at this slutty, sloppy pussy. Such a pathetic little mess for me, aren’t’cha?”

“Yes, Daddy, all for you.” You nod, blinking repeatedly to try and keep your eyesight clear so you can make out his beautiful travesty of a body. Despite the absolute adoration held in your pretty orbs, Deku notices that it is not his face you seek out when you first are turned to look at him, instead your eyes drift to the bared parts of his body that he hates most.

It would seem that each time you find him this way, with your hands mapping out his torso underneath your touch, you find a new part of him, a new marking that you don’t remember being there before. Your breath shudders from your lungs and it feels like thunder erupts in your chest when you breathe, “Please, Daddy.”

You are pouting as you start to run your touch up his arms, starting at his wrists where his palms are pinning your hips into the bed. You swirl your thumbnail around the familiar scars of his hands, those old marks from his time at Yuuei, pushing himself to be the best young hero-in-training there ever was. You recall watching the Sports Festival in his first year, the fight with Todoroki Shouto like a burnt ember settled in the back of your mind. You see the fire and the ice, the shuddering arena shaking with the imminent power of the teenager prodigies.

A hum buzzes in your throat as your fingerprints map out the way to his elbows, finding lengthy scars that make you shudder. Your tongue lolls out against your lips as you wish you could patch his body up with your kiss. You know that he does not marvel at the sight of himself in the same way that you might; you put him up on this pedestal, scars and all, and yet he only sees them as a weakness.

The rough patch of tarnished skin on his right bicep has begun to lose its rigidity as time passes. It was one of his first scars and has been worn down with time. Your hand still finds it, though, even as your eyes are screwed shut and he is angled away from you. It’s like you have a map of his body burned into the back of your eyelids, memorized from all of the times that you’ve fallen apart beneath him or comforted him with your touch.

He is patronizing when he speaks next, eyes blown to hell at the sight of you so far gone for him when he hasn’t even brought you to your first orgasm. He can feel you spasming around him, cunt flexing to try and coax him closer to the edge. He is nowhere near the precipice, holding himself off for your sake, wanton to see you come undone around his cock.

Your pupils try their hardest to focus, begging to be drawn to his bedraggled skin, the stark contrast between tan skin and pale scars heightened even further in your blissed-out state. Your palm flattens against the marking on his bicep, the flayed spot even more expansive than your hand in its entirety. You gasp as he ruts up into you painfully quick, your fingers digging into the rugged flesh, nails biting against the ridges.

When he stills within you, it gives you a moment to slacken your hold and trace the corners of the scar, pretending that he is a patchwork quilt, an antique that you’ll never be able to get enough of. You take a breath and use your free hand to find his chest, a lightning-bolt shaped scar that runs from his collarbone down until it fizzles out into a small scratch near where his taut pectorals meet.

Midoriya trails his thumb downward to your clit, brushing the rough pad of his finger against your sensitive bud. You mewl into the mattress, face turning sideways into the pillow as you no longer are able to hold yourself upright. You beg him to fuck you harder, faster, with something more that you know he has not given you yet.

“What do you want, baby girl? Tell Daddy exactly what you want me to do to this pathetic, slutty little pussy.”

You gasp out words, but he cannot make sense of them as they’re lost in the fabric of the sheets. He slams into you once before dragging his cock outward, slowly skimming the tip between your folds, “Louder. Or else I’m spanking you again.”

He thinks for a moment, tilting his head to consider you as he looks down his nose at you, “And I’m flipping you back over.”

“N-No, please, wanna-” You are begging for breath, your inflamed lungs burning with the lack of oxygen, and you can’t make syllables coherent enough for him to understand. You whimper, squeezing your eyes closed as the brunt of his hand comes down hard over your ass repeatedly until you’re screaming.

Izuku is holding you by the ass, both hands dug deep into the plush skin, “Did I fucking stutter?”

You are able to behold one last gaze of his ethereal body, skin marked like the night sky, before he has you with your face dug into the pillow, his cock and hips jackhammering into you from behind. He does not give you but a moment to breath, the fabric of the pillow stuffing your throat as you try to inhale through your mouth. You cough and it causes your cunt to squeeze around his dick. Deku stutters forward, a choking sound echoing in the back of his throat.

“Holy hell,” he mutters, leaning forward to drape himself across your back, reaching around with his hands to pinch at your nipples. “So fuckin’ tight, little one. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You whimper out something that sounds like a response, so he takes the lead and starts rutting into you again, the obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing off of the walls. You can’t help the drool that spills from your tongue, wetting the sheets and sticking to your chin. You’re practically in tears as he abuses your pussy with his cock, it only growing as you feel the buildup of his power starting to swell from within him.

The air turns electric, but not nearly hot enough for you to know that he’s turned his quirk on. You force a glance over your shoulder, mewling out something that sounds like a pleading cry for him to turn you back so you can gaze up at him again.

“But I like taking you like this, Princess,” Izuku runs his thumbs over your ass, using the cusp of his power to strike small lightning bolts of seafoam color against the skin of your backside. You jolt at the pain, bucking your hips back into him and he moans, “There you go, baby.”

You whine, curling your toes against his hips from your position. He chuckles at the sign of desperation, sweat glistening down your back from exertion. His hips slam forward again, and you’re sure he’s bruised your cervix this time with how deep he has buried himself into you. There are ridges of scar tissue around his hip bones that you can feel even as he fucks into you from behind, the raised skin making your ass burn from where he has slapped you with the strength of his quirk.

“Daddy, I wanna,” you are panting like a puppy into the sheets, your pussy dripping onto the mattress beneath you. You huff out a breath and squeal when he splits your pussy open again with a particularly rough thrust forward, “Daddy!”

Deku pinches your backside with both hands, the biting touch of pain making your eyes water until tears are coating your lashes and staining the pillowcase, “What, huh? What more do you want, Princess?”

You know that Izuku is a sucker for your needs. If you whine hard enough, he’ll give you anything you want. So, with that in mind, you pout to give your demeanor an even more innocent aspect, “I-I wanna kiss you, p-please.”

As expected, he stills his hips from where he is bruising your ass with his scars and bones alike. You wonder for a moment if the imprint of his marred skin will leave an impression on you if you could carry around a little piece of him always.

However, this time when he yanks himself from you, a squelching sound echoes throughout the room in tandem with your mewling whine at the loss of heat, and he does not reenter you immediately. You are about to stutter out something akin to a protest, but you feel his fingertips dip into your sides and instead you let loose a yelp.

Deku takes you by the hips, easily yanking you upward and flipping you around so your back is flush with the mattress, the sweat on your spine making the sheets stick to you. Your eyes are wide, hands gripping into his marred biceps like claws sinking into his skin.

“What?” he is smirking as he nudges his nose against yours, the heat of his cock pressed into your folds but not penetrating just yet. “I like this angle better.”

He nips at your skin before pulling himself back, his hand groping your breast with purpose. He is tweaking your nipple under his touch while his other hand runs his cock against your slick heat, teasing you mercilessly. He watches the lips of your pussy tense when he gets close, wavering at the anticipation of his cock dredging into you with force.

“Plus,” Deku tilts his head, palm reaching up from your chest to grab your face between his fingers, “you never answered me.”

His thumb finds your clit again, dick teasing you by resting between your thighs, throbbing and dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his pre. His fingers are intense as they squeeze your cheeks together, lips ballooned out pertly. Deku chuckles at the sight of you, red in the face and begging him for more with the subtlety of your eyes.

Something twinges within him as he can’t keep your focus on his eyes, but rather on his body. He should feel pride swell in his chest at your adoration of his finely tuned body from years of hard work, but he knows that you are focused on the scars of his body and it gives him a sour taste in his mouth.

The thoughts in his mind flee from your pert chest and smooth stomach and instead he wonders what it is about his skin that you find so enticing. You run your fingertips over each ridged scar, finding the different colors of worn skin beneath the pads of your hands, showing them immense affection with just a gentle touch. His whole body shudders at the feel of you appreciating him with massaging motions and tracing, but he wants to ask you the questions he’s been begging silently for months, years even.

You are trying to form words, but the only thing coming from your mouth is spittle, drool seeping through the cracks of your lips until it coats your chin, cool beneath the air conditioning. Slowly your eyes roll forward so you can look into his darkened pupils, the middle of his irises resembling the darkest beauty marks that he has littered throughout his body. You smile at the sight of his intense irises seeking you out.

Midoriya laughs as the heel of his hand sops it up, smearing it back against your lips before cleaning his palm on the bed sheets. He leans forward, his cock sheathed fully within you as he grows closer to your face. Your palm reaches out to cup his jaw, the tips of your fingers finding the familiar pale lines of his skin to trace like it were a nervous tick.

“C’mon, now,” he kisses your nose, an innocent gesture in stark contrast to the intense motions he’s administering to your clit. “Tell Daddy.”

Your mouth splits wide open with the three words, a confession you know that he’s heard you utter before, but it does not come any less lascivious from your lips the more you beg, “One for All.”

He does not respond immediately, pupils dilated as he glances down at you. Your body squirms beneath his lack of movement, begging for some sort of friction on any part of you. The skin of your ass tingles as he presses you down firmer into the mattress, and you want to cry out but all you can blubber is those three words, again and again, as you plead for him to use his quirk on you.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you swear to him, nodding your head enthusiastically, “I want it so bad, Daddy, please, I want you to-”

Your begging is cut short by a sizzling in the air, the familiar popping of his quirk activating making your skin pebble with goosebumps. Your mouth runs dry at the sight of his skin lighting up with those familiar red lines, power coursing through his veins and making his hair stand on end.

Reaching up, you run your fingers through it, nails scraping at his scalp so you can feel the heat of his energy sparking against your fingertips. You arch your back upward to try and catch some of the wayward sparks, the salacious stinging of your skin only furthering the copious amount of slick between your thighs.

Deku tilts his head up to look you in the eyes, pupils shrunken down so his sea green irises can shine bright, glowing in the darkness of your bedroom. The entire room is aglow with his power, the very strength and resilience that has allowed him to build up so much intensity a conduit for your pleasure. His cock pulses against your thighs and you find yourself clenching around him, your body begging for him to stay close, too frightened at what might happen if he were to pull away.

“This what you wanted?”

His voice is deeper now, a rumbling timbre in his chest that makes your toes curl. You are panting at the expectancy of it all, sweat trickling down your temples and spine from the sudden change in temperature. The heat rises the longer he uses his quirk, so much so that you wonder if you could burn from it. The thought excites you, lights up your eyes until you cannot hold it in anymore.

You lean forward to kiss him on the mouth, slotting your lips between his. Pops of electricity stem from his entire body, sparking in midair before fizzling out with a gentle wash of ash. Deku licks at the seam of your lips, pressing his tongue between your teeth to map out every bump of your gums.

“Please,” you whimper against his tongue, “fuck me, hero.”

You have no more than spoken the words when his cock slips into your heat, coated with your arousal as quickly as he can rut forward. He grits his teeth to keep his composure, body trying to crumble between the use of his quirk and the feel of your tight cunt. You can’t help but notice the way he stretches you out even more so now than before, and you know that it’s in part to the fact that his girth has widened even further after he’s summoned his dormant power.

Deku reaches forward to press his glowing palm to your chest, rolling the bud of your breast between his fingertips as he starts to fuck into you. Your body is racked with effort, practically a ragdoll beneath him, all weak joints and jellied bones. And yet he is as powerful as ever between his mouth and his hands and his dick, every part of him built for your utmost undoing.

Lines of electricity fly from his body, bright green lightning strikes making the air pop all around you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth when the first one stings your skin, lighting up the room in a flash of intense voltage. Izuku pauses, his hips stilling, “Baby?”

“Again,” you are panting, eyes half-closed as you revel in the pleasure from the shockwave. “Please.”

Deku has to focus on the electric side-effect of his quirk, closing his eyes so he can control the power radiating from his body. He starts to roll his hips into you slowly, once he feels settled with the coursing energy brought on by One for All.

You peel your lids back so you can watch as energy rushes through his frame, lighting up his body in such a way that reminds you of the pure power that he keeps hidden from the world most of the day. The light coursing just beneath his skin only serves to further draw out the beauty of his marred skin. His freckles are stars painted against the bright red and green patterns of electricity surging around his body like lightning bolts. You reach up to brush your thumbs against the apples of his cheeks, sucking in a breath at the sheer heat he’s radiating.

The reality that you have the very universe under your touch does not go unnoticed by you. You marvel at the constellations splayed out before you on his skin, giving you a small drop of the milky way right here in your home. It is overwhelming, the thought of it all dizzying as the heat thuds against the back of your eyes. And despite the boulder that sits on your shoulders at the burden of having to hold up his universe, you feel a jolt of exhilaration with the responsibility settling in your belly. You will be the one who he can crumble into when he’s tired of shining out for everyone else.

After all, a star can only be born after a nebula collapses.

Deku’s arms are strong around you as he holds you in place, cock sliding deep into your heated core, collecting your slick and his pre for easier lubrication, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft making you shiver as it drags against your walls. His biceps flex with the use of his quirk and the effort of holding you in midair to keep you snapped up into him and your hands are drawn to his bulging muscles all over again.

There is no doubt that he could keep you safe from any harm – one flick of his fingers, and a villain is rendered to a helpless annoyance.

The notion makes you shiver, reaching your hands up towards his shoulders, caressing his arms to feel the protruding cords of muscle rippling under the stress of his quirk. Your fingerprints find scars, puckered pink and marring his pretty tan skin. Other people might think that these markings make him weak, proving that he is fallible, mortal. But you think that every line on his body is a visible reminder that he has given so much to those who might not ever give it back. He has been beaten, bruised, and broken, and yet here he still stands, tall and proud in the face of danger.

Izuku knows that look in your eyes – wonder, awe, respect.

It swells his pride even further, his chest taut as he puffs himself up at the sight of you with adoration like stars in your irises. His thrusts are more intense now, guiding you closer to the cusp of pleasure, begging your body with the pulse of his cock to come undone.

“I-Izu, please.” You’re pushing your face into the pillow now, the burning hot pool building up steam in your belly becoming too much. He doesn’t even care that you’ve slipped up, not when he’s got you wrapped around him like a coil, working you from the inside out to drag the licentious sounds from your throat.

“Please what, Princess?” His hand sparks electricity around your chest, your nipple now pert with the fizzle of electricity as it creeps beneath your skin and into your veins. “Look at me, c’mon.”

He smacks the side of your breast, watching as the round flesh ripples under his ministrations. He breathes heavy, his chest inflating rapidly as his hips drill mercilessly into you. You clamp around him, quietly pleading with him to stay buried to the hilt so you.

When you don’t respond by turning your head, Midoriya grabs you by the cheeks, dominantly forcing your vision back to him. He’s almost regretful when you whimper, a shining trail of drool spilling from your mouth to pool into the pillowcase. The damp spot draws his attention and his cock twitches within your pussy, brushing up into your cervix and making you cry out, throat so hoarse that your voice cracks.

Izuku blinks hard, pulling his eyes away from the dark circle on the pillow to focus on your face, slipping his thumb into your mouth to press down on the center of your tongue. He smirks, his free hand holding you by the ass now, digging blunt nails into your flesh to create a conduit for his electricity to flow straight to your backside.

You whimper around his digit, the sound muffled by his finger, “G-Gonna come, Daddy.”

“Are you now?” he asks proudly, tilting his head to consider you. “Did I say you could come?”

You’re shaking your head as he grabs your ass harder, bringing tears to your eyes at the immense pressure combined with the raw feeling from his spankings earlier. As if to challenge you, Deku starts jutting forward, driving your hips deeper into the mattress until you feel like you might fall through.

The use of his quirk makes him so much stronger, his corded body trying to restrain from using its full power on you, despite calling all of it forward. He grits his teeth down so hard that you think you hear his jaw creaking, but you hardly have time to notice before you’re having to ward off your own pleasure. Using every ounce of One for All, Izuku bruises your cervix with the engorged head of his cock, the quirk enlarging every part of him.

You beg him with blurred words and hazy vision, whining and keening, until he’s leaning down close to your face, his hand now moved from your mouth to your throat, wet fingers wrapped around your neck.

“Good girl,” he murmurs with his nose against your cheek, lips dancing along your jawline to place feather light kisses, much in contrast to the otherwise bludgeoning intensity of the rest of his ministrations. “Such a pretty little thing.”

Your eyes find his face as he leans back to look down at you, the freckles dusted over his cheeks stark beneath his bright red streaks symbolizing the use of his quirk. You reach upward to tuck your palm against his cheek, cupping the skin burning hot with the coursing energy of his power. Your thumb brushes over the roundest part of his face and his eyes shudder closed at the feeling.

He kisses your wrist, bottoming out into your cunt with a harsh thrust forward. Deku turns his gaze to you, electric irises finding your soul through way of your pupils, “You gonna come when I tell you?”

“Yes, yes,” you’re practically foaming at the mouth, little spit bubbles at the corners of your lips at the thought of coming around his cock, your arousal mixed with his seed as he fills your core with his come. “Please, Daddy, I wanna come for you.”

Izuku nods, kissing your wrist again before falling back on his thick legs to grab you by the thighs, lifting you up off the mattress. It is just a display of his strength, his biceps bulging with effort, but it does what he intends for it to do when he feels your dripping arousal slipping from your slit down to drip onto the mattress.

“Fuck, look at your sloppy little pussy, Princess,” Deku moans at the sight of your silvery slick pouring out of you. He runs his thumb against the curve of your backside to catch what he can, running it over your clit before sucking his digit between his teeth.

Using his damp fingertip, Izuku begins to work at your clit, his other hand still pinning your thighs up in midair. He licks his lips at the sight of you on the cusp of pleasure, your body begging to come undone with the way your pussy clamps around his cock.

“C’mon, baby,” he coaxes you with a kind voice, electric pops crackling in the air like fireworks. “Come for me.”

You quit holding back, letting your body rush with a mix of adrenaline and pleasure. Every part of you is on fire, from his touch mixed with the searing heat of his body and the green lightning that strikes your body to leave tiny pink pucker marks. The sight of you marked up by his teeth and tongue and quirk bring him to his own heightened arousal, unable to hold back when he feels you gush with come from within the confine of your walls.

The glowing iridescent light making the room fluorescent fades into the dark with every spurt of his come into your cunt until he is no longer using One for All.

“Good girl,” he kisses your cheek, “now let’s get you cleaned up, hm?”

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

You’re not sure what flips the switch within you – whether it’s the tight look of his uniform showing off the peaked buds of his nipples and the engorged head of his cock, or if it’s the blush on his freckled cheeks, making him look so much younger than the twenty plus years old he is now.

Whatever it is, it makes your mouth water and your fingertips buzz.

“Bedroom. Now.”

“B-But, the pad tha-”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Izuku’s thighs spasm at the authoritative tone of your voice and suddenly he feels about two inches tall despite towering over you no matter the situation. He tucks his head downward as he walks past you, down the hall towards the bedroom the two of you now share. Usually he is the one speaking those words as he stands over the top of you, his hand stinging red from spanking your ass as he orders you around, but the way they sound from your tone of voice makes his entire body quake.

The soft click of the door as it slips shut makes goosebumps rise on his skin, the stubbled hair on the back of his neck standing as upright as possible. There is a grunt from your mouth and a shuffling of your feet on the carpet as you kick off your shoes.

“B-Baby, I-”

Somehow you have shoved your foot into the crook of his knee, toppling him over onto the bed so he’s face first into the mattress, his ass perked upward as he tries to balance himself so he does not fall over. The globes of his backside are stretched tight within the spandex of his uniform, and you know the beautiful expanses of freckled skin that lay beneath the material.

Izuku looks over his shoulder, attempting to protest or ask you what is wrong, but you don’t want to hear it, so you lean forward and press your palm against his cheek, “You don’t speak unless spoken to, do you understand?”

He’s whimpering under your harsh touch, but the way his pupils dilate tells you that he’s enjoying it at least enough to test it out. You shove yourself backward, centered between his ass cheeks as your knees dig into the edge of the mattress. The tips of your fingernails run over the plush flesh of his backside, digging in to make him gasp and writhe beneath you.

Your heart hammers in your chest at seeing the up and coming Pro Hero wriggling like a frightened animal under your ministrations, and you’ve barely laid a hand on him yet. You run your knuckle up his spine, “Take your top off.”

The way he balances his head on the mattress and grapples with his shirt in an attempt to take it off is almost comical, so you crack a smile, thankful that he can’t see you. You lick your lips and drag your hand back down his back to rest at the base of his spine as he scrambles to take the shirt off, but he’s too flustered and it ends up bunched up around his neck and shoulders.

Finally, he gets so frustrated that he rips the fabric in half, shreds of thread falling against his skin and the sheets. You feel heat flood to your core, your spine white hot within your body, the tingles of heat spreading from the center of you outward until your fingertips and toes are blazing with fire.

You hum in appreciation at the sight of his rippling shoulders and trap muscles, his body shifting to dip back into the mattress, balancing all of his weight on his forearms as he leans forward. Your touch drifts from his shoulders to his obliques, the bumps of muscle corded beneath your digits. You watch as his body ripples with a shiver, every one of his muscles tensing as your fingers pad over his freckles, finding patches of darker skin to administer affection to.

It must be the pure anticipation that has his frame tense and quivering, the smallest of muscles twitching as you work your hands around his body. You settle your palms at his hips, flattening your hand against the expanse of skin at the center of his torso, “Baby, relax.”

You lean forward and kiss the dense smattering of freckles between his shoulder blades, “Now be a good little hero and take off your pants.”

The way you say it sends another wave of pleasure straight to his cock, the already throbbing organ about ready to bust from arousal and you haven’t even disrobed him yet.

Your feet pad against the carpet as you find your way to the edge of the bed, stripping out of your outerwear until you’re left in only a dark lace set, the filigree bringing out the beauty of your skin. Izuku goes dumb at the sight, turning his head just enough to get an eyeful of your chest area. His eyes about bug out of his head, wide and blown with lust as his tongue lolls over his lips, dripping a silvery string of drool onto the bed sheets.

“C’mon, Deku,” you force the word to come out in a patronizing tone, “strip for me.”

He swallows, his throat bobbing, but somehow manages to push through the aroused haze clouding his judgment to wriggle himself out of his tight-fitting hero suit. The bright green fabric is left in a pool on the floor, tattered clothes just the start of your destruction.

The head of his cock is bright red and there is a part of you that falters, wanting to beg him to take control and absolutely demolish your pussy with his harsh, controlling movements and his filthy mouth. It lasts but a moment, and yet he can still see it. There is a shift in his eyes, the way he considers you, and he leans forward to say something, but you’re grabbing him by the face, cheeks between your fingers, before he can speak.

“Roll over.”

Izuku does as told with little hesitation, flopping his shoulders around so his ass is once again in the air, primes and ready for your palm to lavish with spankings. Your breath shudders from your lungs and you lock your thighs in place by tensing them, centering yourself between his knees. The balls of his heels come into contact with your hips as he sways slightly, his mind dizzy from the promise of pleasure.

“How many?” you ask, your voice low and sultry, surprising even you with the depth of it.

A choking noise can be heard, but it’s muffled by the pillow. You chuckle, patting his ass prospectively, feeling the flesh ripple beneath your complacent prodding. Dipping forward, your chest falls flush with his back as you press feathery kisses over his midsection, finding the freckles like little gold pieces, adding each one to your treasure chest as you kiss it.

Izuku manages to spit out a number, something reasonable, and so you add a few more on top of it in your mind, smirking even though he cannot see you. You run the pads of your fingers down from the tops of his shoulders to the globes of his ass, the perky, round muscles making your stomach flip. You can’t wait to see the way his bruised ass mixed with the dark brown freckles of his skin – how beautiful the colors will be, how it might actually look more like a galaxy with shades of purple and blue as an accent to the brunette freckles dotting his skin like the night sky currently.

You reach your hands back and start to lay into him, counting the spankings in your head without keeping track of them aloud. You stop after you’re satisfied with his whimpering cries, his face buried deeper into the pillow with each endearing smack.

An errant thought crosses your mind and you can’t help but to dwell on it. If Izuku is already blubbering, how much farther can you take this before he’s crying into the pillow? The idea that you can bring one of the strongest men in the world to tears sets off a string of dynamite in your heart, the fuse triggering something akin to pride in your chest. You feel your whole body swell at the thought and you know that you must make it a reality tonight.

“How many was that?” you ask patronizingly, digging your nails into his ass to hear him squeak.

Your hands are already raw, burning at the feel of slapping his muscled backside repeatedly. Still, you knead your hands into him to elicit a pained whine. He writhes under you, his hands curling around the sheets until they’re beginning to rip under his tight grip.

“I-I dunno,” he blurts, a curt sob breaking his words. “I’m sorry!”

You chuckle and it comes out much darker than you originally intended. You release his ass, the thick of it jiggling as you let go. The pads of your fingers are gentle as you wash your touch over him, appreciating the way the redness of his freshly spanked cheeks brings out the deep color of his freckles, the splotches even more prevalent now that his body has been momentarily abused.

“Oh, you’re gonna be sorry, baby,” you kiss each of his ass cheeks, flicking your tongue out to tease the heated skin, “you better start counting.”

Just as you punctuate your sentence with a sigh, your hands begin to strike him repeatedly. You struggle to keep count, desperately wanting to listen to his moans and whimpers as he gasps, mewling with both pain and pleasure as you lay into his backside. Midoriya is already misty-eyed, the feel of your domineering touch just enough to bring him to a subservient headspace, his spirit wallowing in the pain that your hands are doling out.

You barely have time to stop before he’s blurting out the number that matches the one you’ve counted. You smirk, leaning forward so your nipples scrape against his skin, “Good job, baby.”

The heels of your palms are what is stinging the most, so you can only imagine how his ass feels. You have a momentary relapse in thought, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, if maybe you’re going to push him to an edge he can’t come back from.

Although, when too much silence has passed and he is turning to gaze up at you over his shoulder, every inhibition you have flies directly out of the room through the crack in the door. His eyes are blitzed, lust making his pupils swallow the color of his irises, forehead crinkled in desperation as he attempts to form words to beg you back to him.

You rub at the pert skin, brushing your thumbs over the smattering of freckles on the roundest parts of his ass. Deku is whimpering beneath you, calf muscles fully flexed as he rocks back and forth in anticipation of your next slap.

“Such a good little hero,” you murmur, massaging your hands into his glute muscles. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

Izuku whines, toes curling up beside your hips. He huffs but you can’t see his face to notice how fucked-out his eyes have become. You dig your fingernails into the flesh of his ass, and he preens, eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sudden stinging sensation.

You answer him with a resounding smack on his backside, making sure that your fingertips are curved just right, along with your palm, to make it sound much worse than it truly is, praying that you can manipulate his mind into believing that you’ve marked him for longer than a few moments.

The way the freckles on his skin trail from the top of his body to the bottom is nothing short of enticing. It brings about a certain innocence to him, something hidden that only you are allowed to know of. Your eyes can’t stop trying to put together a map of his body, begging to know just where the freckles begin and end. He is littered with them, his body darkening from time spent in the sun.

“P-Please,” his whole body is convulsing in pleasure. You can see his cock throbbing between his thighs and the mattress, his balls weighty with the impending excitement of his release. The bedsheet have a damp spot near the tip of his cock, most likely from his pre dripping at the sudden shakes of his body from your spankings, “I-I want more, Princess. Please!”

You smirk, hand hot from repeated spankings, “What’s your number?”

Deku pants, digging his nose into the mattress as if that might save him from having to answer. His hands are clamped around the sheets, nails threatening to rip into the thread count mercilessly, “I-I dunno, I don’t know!”

Your hand comes down over his ass repeatedly, unrelenting in your ministrations as you mark his backside bright red. You know that there will be little busted blood vessels to mix along with his freckled skin, purple lightning strikes that serve as a reminder to the way you broke down his resolve and conquered his body.

“P-Princess,” he whines, voice cracking in the midst of his sentence as he tries to beg for repentance, “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You curve your fingernails into his skin, uncaring to the way his body fully tenses, dips and curves of muscle and sinew on full display as he lays completely bare against the mattress. You want to strew yourself across him to feel the ripples of his muscles as he tenses under your touch, to know the reactions of his body as they are happening firsthand. A chill tremors down your spine at the thought of him, all dense and thick beneath you, and how you have complete and utter control over him. You hold his pleasure in your hands, he’s entrusted himself to you in this very vulnerable situation, and the reality of it almost brings tears to your eyes.

Instead you focus your energy into snarling around your teeth, sneering his name like slander, “C’mon, Deku, be a good little bitch and tell me what you think you can handle.”

He is verbally silent, the only thing you can make out from his face smushed into the sheets is mewling whimpers to match the way his body quivers. You teasingly stroke your thumbnail over the blushed skin of his backside, bouncing your touch from freckle-to-freckle as you scrape your nails into him.

Another couple of seconds pass by before you snatch your hand from his ass so you can slap him again when he spurts out an answer, “Th-Thirty!”

“Fifty it is,” you chuff, digging your fingertips into his buttocks in a massaging motion, preparing him for the next round of spankings. He pants, rutting his hips forward into the mattress for some sort of friction against his throbbing erection, balls weighty with his release as they slap between his legs.

You tap his hip, letting him know that you want him to readjust himself. Izuku bends at the waist, seething as the bruised skin of his bottom stretches with the motion. You resituate yourself between his knees, ass directly in front of your face. A gentle kiss is pressed to either of his cheeks, eyelashes daintily brushing over his throbbing flesh, and he jolts his hips back into you until your teeth graze his skin.

“Eager little thing,” you tut your tongue, grabbing him harshly by the hips.

You selfishly want to mark him up, to remind the world that he belongs to you no matter how much of himself he gives away every other moment of his life. When the sun goes down, when the bright sky bleeds into the night, he comes home to you and the both of you fall asleep under the stars, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Izuku’s tongue lolls out of his mouth, sweat dripping down his spine as you press up into him, “Such a slut for me, huh, honey?”

The next time he backs into you, you pinch his ass between your fingers on one side and on the other cheek you bite down hard into his skin. Midoriya bucks forward at the sudden jolt of pain, only worsening the scratches left behind by your canines. He grinds his face into the mattress, pressing the mix of his tears and sweat into the sheets, begging for a cool release from the heat of his body as he searches for it in the mattress. You swear that he sobs into the pillow, begging you for something, but you can’t quite make out all of the syllables.

You line up behind him, your lower abdomen flush with his round, freckled bottom, “You ready, baby?”

“Princess, please,” his voice is hoarse now, all jagged around the edges as he begs you for more, “I-I want you to be rough with me, please? I wan’ you to mark me up.”

On command, your fingernails dig into the flesh at the curves of his shoulders, raking down the length of his back in one elongated swoop. He cries out, throwing his head back so his green curls brush the piques of his shoulders, and he grinds his hips back into you. You can’t help the low growl that claws at your throat as you trail your index finger down over the ghostly sight that your nails have left behind. He seethes through his teeth at the burning sensation lighting his back on fire, but he still does not complain.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you handled, okay?” Your hands find purchase on the curves of his obliques, fingernails burrowing into the taut skin of his abdomen, crescent moon patterns left in the wake of you. “I’m gonna make sure all the other heroes know who you belong to.”

Your name bubbles from his lips, a prayer he’s pushing to the heavens, blessing the stars with his babbling. In the midst of one of his mutterings, you begin your next round of pert spanks to his ass. You give him little reprieve, counting in your head as you go along.

He’s a blubbering mess, all mismatched syllables and grunts and moans tearing his throat apart until he’s crying for you to mark him as yours, to claim him in a way that leaves no question as to who he belongs to. The echoes of please, please, please bounce off every wall, a cacophony of sound making the hair on your neck stand erect.

When you finish, your hands are stinging profusely, but you make sure to soothe your palms over his bottom, the flesh bright red and angry. His freckles look even darker now that his skin has been accented with the beginnings of purple bruises and crimson handprints left behind. You coo, leaning forward to kiss the center of his back, pressing your body into him so you’re flush with every inch of him that you can find, “What do you say, pretty boy?”

When Midoriya turns to look at you over his shoulder, his eyes blissed-out so his pupils swallow his viridescent irises whole, he gargles the words, “thank you,” in a cracked whisper. You nod, trailing a row over kisses down the dip of his spine, nudging your nose over his muscled body, silently telling him to relax.

“You want more?” you ask him quietly, your hands digging into any surface of him that you can find to try and release some of the tension built up from the time spent together. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Please, Princess, please,” he’s blubbering out the words, thick and heavy with the emotion pent-up in his throat, “I just wan’ be good for you, whatever you want.”

You tilt your head, brows furrowing in playful contemplation, “Whatever I want, huh?”

He’s nodding ferociously, his chin knocking into his chest with his enthusiastic actions. You know part of it is to make up for the lack of words that he can’t force through his teeth, so you merely chuckle and give him one final spank to his backside, “Roll over then.”

The speed with which he fumbles into rolling over onto his back is comical. You watch as a flurry of limbs wind together only to come apart again when he’s on his back. Izuku is wincing, the glassiness in his eyes reminiscent of tears and he’s trying his hardest to come across like he’s not in pain, although you see the way that he favors putting more of his weight on his shoulders instead of his ass so he’s bent at an odd angle.

“Whatever you want,” he is gasping the words out, puffs of exaggerated but necessary breath forcing his cheeks to inflate. “I’m yours.”

The words make your whole body puff up, heat starting in your core and creating steam that rises from your esophagus to your brain. It becomes muddled and you’re hazy now, drunk off of the power that he has given you with those five words. You reach forward and slide your thumb against his piqued nipple, licking your lips as you think of what you’re going to do to him not that you have him to use however you please.

“All mine?” you ask, your voice grating against the front of your throat harshly. You hum, “What do you want me to do to you then, baby?”

He’s breathing heavily through his nose now, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, “I w-want you to use me, please, Princess, want you to use my pathetic cock to make yourself feel good.”

You reach forward and guide his scarred hand towards your cunt, “Touch me.”

Izuku is eager to please, so he’s fumbling forward until his thumb finds your clit, ministrations errant and disastrous. It’s adorable, really, the enthusiasm with which he seeks you out only doing further service to your ego. You feel your head grow dizzier as your core turns with tumultuous heat. You know that you do not want to drag this out too far as you already can feel the twitch of an impending crest of pleasure building from within you.

His thick finger slides up into your heated core and it takes all of your self-restraint to keep your moans between your teeth, holding the sounds captive like they might tell all of your secrets if you let them loose. You bite your lip, sucking the skin into the bite of your teeth, tilting your head back so you can close your eyes and enjoy the pleasure as it comes.

“Maybe if you touch me just right, I’ll let you feel my pussy on your cock, huh?” You have to face him, have to see his reaction, “How does that sound?”

Midoriya is bobbing his head, agreeing to whatever words you’re speaking, he can’t quite make out any one syllable with the way his brain is drowning with the sight of you straddling him. He’s not sure what it is about you, but he absolutely adores the idea of you holding your own against him, wrapping your body around him and denying him of whatever control he normally possesses.

And maybe that is what gets you wet too, because you know that he could fling you off of him with a simple flick of his wrist, and yet here he is, letting you demolish every last shred of his self-respect.

You can’t help it, with the way he’s already beginning to drool and the sight of his eyes drinking in your semi-naked body, you have to feel the soft heat of his mouth around your fingers. It is too quick, the way you jolt forward and press the pads of your digits against his soft mouth. He moans, realizing just what you’re trying to do because he’s done it countless times himself, and opens his mouth wide.

Your fingers slip inside the seeping heat of his tongue and cheeks, the muscle lapping at your digits until they’re soaked and knuckle deep. You lean down so you are but inches from his face, the squelching sounds that your pussy and his mouth make together doing little to still the erection pressed against your ass from behind and the absolute waterfall between your thighs.

Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to sink down on top of his twitching cock and let him have his way with you, to rock yourself along his length until you’re both finding that beautiful high together. But you know that if you wait, if you drag this out and force him to bend to your will, then it will bring you both to your knees.

“So pretty with my fingers in your mouth, Izu,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He attempts feebly to kiss you, turning his head, but your fingers catch on the corners of his lips and stretch the pink skin until it is pale. Your eyes flicker toward the bow of his mouth where a thin, white scar resides. You remember seeing this one when you first kissed him, and the memory of it makes you nostalgic, the years you’ve spent together built up much like his scars.

You lick a warm stripe up the column of his neck, feeling the muscles and veins throb underneath your ministrations. The heat of your breath combined with the slick of your spit makes Deku’s hips jut upward, his balls slapping loudly against your ass as he ruts into you painfully.

“Did I say you could move?” You are leant back now, your fingers still in his mouth but otherwise you are parted from him. Deku’s face pales, eyes widening in fear as he shakes his head, apologies tumbling in tandem with his spit from his lips, drool seeping down his chin until it is shiny.

The heel of your palm comes underneath his chin, so you have your hand wrapped around the lower part of his mouth, controlling his head with the simple turn of your wrist. You tilt his head upward so he can no longer see you, and pick up your hips to reposition yourself so you are hovering above him, just enough so you can start to tease the head of his cock against your slick slit.

He’s whimpering, “Please, Princess. I wanna touch you so bad, please, I wanna make you feel good.”

You let him beg for you, pumping your hand up and down his cock while you brush the angry red head over the gathering silver slick at your entrance.  You chuckle as his hips shuffle in the slightest, his discomfort obvious as he is practically vibrating with the desire to take over.

“What is it, baby? Eager?” You sink yourself down far enough to take the head of his cock within your walls, clamping down hard enough to make him whine. “I can’t wait to fuck myself on this pathetic little cock, Izu. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll have to call in sick tomorrow.”

Another round of blathering drivel is boasted into the air, his words muffled by your fingers, but he still forces them out, nonetheless. His tongue continues to curl around your knuckles and lavish the pads of your digits, sucking on them in between heaving breaths. You let a small moan shake your throat, rolling your hips forward to take another bit of his dick but not all of it, not yet. The enjoyment you’re getting from his stuttering whimpers and moans only heightening your senses and arousal.

“Princess, please, I-I think I’m gonna-” An aborted rut of his hips dies when you rake your nails down the entirety of his chest. Your fingers catch on the rigid edges of some of his scars, but otherwise you turn lines of his tanned flesh red from your scratching.

Izuku whimpers, his body arching upward as he tries to take it all in stride. In doing so, he sheathes his cock completely within you, the base of his shaft now flush with your lips. You cry out at the sudden stretch, throwing your head back in pleasure as a wave of white-hot arousal makes your thighs glossy with a new wash of slick.

When you come to, you lean forward to place a palm on either side of his head, holding yourself up so you are loitering over him like a shadow, praying that you are as every bit as menacing as you’re attempting to be. You grit your teeth and roll your hips several times, unbending to even his hands on your body, relentlessly fucking his cock until he’s screaming for you to stop.

“C’mon, little hero, I thought you’d be better than this,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug, “I thought you’d have more will power. You’ll never be number one if you can’t even last this long beneath me.”

Izuku shakes his head, “I-I can, I can do it, I-I promise. Please, just let-”

“I don’t think you understand,” your voice is low, menacing as you nudge your nose against the bridge of his face, nuzzling the freckled skin. The intimate act is far more tender than your tone, and it gives Izuku chills that you can display such dual sides of yourself simultaneously. “I’m not letting you do anything.”

His eyes go wide as he realizes that there is nothing that he can do to change your mind, at least not in this setting. Deku’s hands still on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circular motions into your skin in a way that seems to be grounding him as much as it is stimulating you. You press a chaste kiss to his mouth before beginning to snap your hips upward and then back down onto his cock, clamping your walls around him when you feel the head of him press into that spongy spot hidden all the way in the back of your core.

You kiss all over his neck, finding clumps of freckles and stranded singular ones, lavishing the same amount of affection over each of them. Your mouth finds scars, both tiny, hairline fractures in the marble of his skin, as well as large, patchy ones that mar large splotches of his skin.

Even in these moments when you are the one doling out commands, you still find ways to appreciate his body. Your touch roams along the dips and contours of his torso, the rough ridges of your fingerprints searching for the matching ragged lines on his skin. You sigh into his throat and he slips a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, begging for you to come undone around his cock, praying that you’ll let him please you.

One of your hands wraps around his throat until you hear him choke, and then you speed up the pace of your hips until he’s begging through wheezes for you to relent. You lean back and he hikes up his legs so you can rest against his thighs, your body on full display in front of him. His eyes do not know where to land and neither do yours as you map out the various textures and colors of his skin – from the pale lightning strikes of his scars to the darker scattered splotches of freckles.

Izuku Midoriya is a vessel for the travesties of the world.

But you will spend the rest of your life trying to make up for its mistakes.

:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:••:۞:

One day it slips.

You don’t think much of it, because in the heat of the moment, with him buried at the hilt and you crying for release, the words don’t stick out very starkly against the other filth spewing from either of your mouths.

“Gonna stuff that pretty pussy full of my come, baby,” he bites your earlobe as he ruts into you mercilessly, “You’re gonna be so round and full of me.”

At the time, you thought he meant that you would be full of his cock and come, but after he starts to show particular attention to your stomach during sex, you wonder if there’s something else going on.

When he has you beneath him the next time, you drag his palm to your belly and look him in the eyes, “I want you.”

His freckles burn beneath his blush, much starker against his tanned skin thanks to the flush of warmth. Izuku tilts his head, the dark curls framing his forehead bobbing with the motion, “You have me, baby.”

You shake your head and whine at the lack of contact once he’s stilled. You bite your lip and push the heel of his palm into the gentle swell of your belly beneath your navel. He swallows, gulping so hard that his throat bobs. You lick your lips and take a short breath as he shifts above you, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of your body.

“I want you to come in me,” you murmur, tugging him downward with the gentle grip of your hand on his neck. You kiss him square on the mouth and his fingers reach to find your folds, middle and index finger parting you so they can slip inside to curl against your heat. You whine, the sound amplified as his tongue searches your teeth, “P-Please, Izu.”

Midoriya’s fingers thrust forward in you so intensely that he can feel his fingertips bulging your belly with the palm that’s pressed against your navel. His eyes widen at the sensation and it only spurs him into kissing you more fervently, teeth and tongue clashing as he tries to overwhelm every sense you possess.

You protest as he pulls his fingers from you, your eyes screwed shut as you whine. He tuts his tongue against his teeth, nudging his nose along the curve of your jaw as he places biting kisses along the bone, “Hush. Do you really think I won’t give you what you need?”

The authoritative tone in his voice brings you to silence, eyelids fluttering open so you can look him in the eyes as he leans back to balance himself on his thick thighs. Your touch is pulled from him as he goes further away, your fingers aching in midair for something to ground yourself with. Otherwise you just feel like you’re going to float away, your mind hazy with the effervescent bubbles of euphoria that travel up from your throat.

Before you have another moment to keen at the loss of his heat, he’s piercing your pussy with the head of his cock, butterflying your lips wide open so he can rut up into you with ease. The combination of his bubbling pre-come and your already slick arousal dripping from your cunt make the slam of his hips easier to take, easier to beg for.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Izuku coos in your ear, dropping his head to your shoulder to suck on the skin of your collarbone.

The jut of his cockhead into your core makes it difficult to think, let alone form fully coherent sentences. Izuku seems to relish in this, though, because he does not slow the drag of his cock or the flow of his words. He continues to goad you into begging for his release, for what you truly want, and it’s maddening. Your eyes cross beneath your lids at the overstimulation of it all until you’re blurting out the first thing on your mind.

“I wan’ you to breed me, Daddy!”

Izuku falters for a moment at the brashness of your words, but you barely have time to feel bashful before he’s rolling his hips again, growling near your ear with a ferocity you’ve never felt from him before.

“That’s my good girl,” he mutters while trailing his lips down to your breast. He lavishes your nipple with the rough pad of his tongue, lapping over the skin carefully so you’re begging him for more. “How am I supposed to breed you, honey? Tell me.”

The patronizing tone of his voice tells you that he knows exactly what you want, but he would rather hear the request coming in the form of panting words and wanton moans from your lips. You sniffle, your eyes watering at the bruising pace he’s setting. His hands drift down the tops of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part where your skin is the most sensitive. Your cunt clamps down around him, fluttering at the ghostly feel of his tantalizing touch.

“P-Please,” you whimper, unable to think of something to say to fill the void. You bite your lip as his mouth works at your chest, tonguing your nipple before biting at the mound of skin to drive a yelp from your lips. “I want you to c-come in me, Daddy! I want you to stuff me full o-of your come, please!”

He pouts around your nipple, leaving the small space he’s just sucked a hickey into in favor of your pert bud, “I already come in you, baby girl, what do you really want me to do?”

You bite your lip and fist the sheets at your sides when you feel frustration and embarrassment wash over you. Izuku nudges his nose along the swell of your chest before leaning up to kiss your chin, hovering like a menacing shadow. His smile does little to quell the bubbling intensity in your belly.

“You can do it, sweetheart,” he’s gentler now, breaking his more dominating side so he can reassure you, “I know you can. Just tell me what you want.”

The shining in his irises makes your knees weak but bolsters your spine to force you into uttering the next words, no matter how uncomfortable they might sit in your belly. You take a breath and look up into his eyes, “I want you to put a baby in me, Izu.”

“Good girl,” he manages to muster out the words with restraining the growl that aches at the back of his throat.

His hips cant forward, fingertips now just under your knees. Your breath comes in shaking pants, your chest shuddering under your confession. Izuku kisses your cheek and then your nose, positioning his hands while he has you distracted. His mouth ascends down upon your own as his fingers dip into the supple skin and muscle of your thighs, bruising the underside with the ghost of his fingerprints as he pushes your knees back until they’re almost touching your chest or the mattress.

You gulp in pain as his cock stretches you out in a whole new way with your body flayed out like this. You look like a butterfly, your wings spread so he can smother you with his movements. Deku licks at the seam of your lips and you gasp, your mouth parting so he can delve his tongue inside. Your whole body shakes at the intensity of his thrusts, your irises swallowed whole by your pupils as they dilate at the feel of your cunt trying and failing to clamp around his cock to keep him still so you can adjust.

“Say it again,” Deku encourages you, his voice breathless as he ruts you into the mattress.

Your shoulders and the curve of your ass are pressed so deep into the cushion that you swear you might fall through to the floor. You curl your toes and try to angle your hips forward to no avail. He has you fully enraptured in the way he wants, his body practically controlling the movements you’re allowed to make with how he’s pressed and holding onto every part of you.

“I-I want you to put a baby in me, Izuku,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

A pert slap lands on the outside of your thigh and you whimper at the thought you’ve done something wrong. Your eyes water and you look up at him, emerald irises glowering down at you with a mix of primal need and control.

His voice is nothing short of a growl when he commands, “Who am I?”

Your eyes go wide, forehead creasing at the realization of your slip up. You can’t form the words fast enough, scrambling within your subservient brain to find the right phrase. You bite your lip as his hips still upon your silence, practically begging him with your body to keep going.

The echo of another smacking of his palm against your leg resounds in the room, sending a shudder down your spine. A new wave of arousal coats his cock from where he’s buried within you. He smirks, “Such a sloppy pussy, baby girl. You’re so filthy, getting off on me smacking you around.”

He leans close into you, removing one hand from your thigh to frame your face, his thumb dug into the soft flesh beneath your chin so he can force you to look into his eyes. “Now, I’ll say it again, who am I?”

You gulp, your lower lip trembling at the sight of him, and your voice cracks when you speak, “D-Daddy, I-I’m sorry.”

Izuku kisses your bottom lip before showing the same affection to the top. His gentle ministrations are rather contrasting to the way your hips sting with the memory of his spankings. You blink slowly, taking him in from this close angle.

He’s so pretty, you know this even though your mind is hazy with subservient want. His freckles and scars stand out so pertly against his skin, showing you a roadmap to someplace you know you’ll get to someday. You reach up to frame his face with one hand, thumb brushing over the speckled spots along the bridge of his nose and cheek, marveling at the sight of his beauty.

Deku turns his face to kiss your wrist, “What’re you thinking?”

“You’re pretty,” you blurt, voice almost childish in the way you say it with such wonder.

The phrase stills his nose against your palm, his breath hot as it rolls down your wrist and forearm. You feel your pulse beat harshly within your veins at the change in temperature, emotion swelling in your throat until your neck bobs as you try to swallow it.

It’s not the stereotypical compliment that he might receive, however that does not change its weight. Izuku takes a short breath before he begins to kiss down the length of your arm, nuzzling your elbow once he’s pressed there. He looks up into your eyes and the absolute adoration that is settled into your irises, bejeweling them until he is wondering if they might actually be gems, gives him the effervescent sensation all over again.

Pretty.

The word plays on loop in his mind, until he has dissected all six letters of it down to their very essence. The combination of your tone and expression as you admit what’s truly on your mind causes his heart to tear into his rib cage with the speed at which it beats. He breathes in short, heaving gasps, the warmth of his breath spilling over your chest, nipples pebbling beneath him.

If you were to try and pin down his appearance, you might say it were bashful. You have seen several sides to Izuku, but the bright red tinge on his cheeks, creeping up his neck until his ears are burnt with the color, makes him seem much younger, much more innocent. It’s hardly innocent, the way that he’s bludgeoning your cunt with his cock, but you take this moment to remove yourself from that fact entirely, instead focusing on the wobble of his chin and the mist in his eyes.

In addition to the shyness, you also see doubt, conflict.

You push your fingers into the hair behind his ear, beckoning him closer so you can appreciate him closer. Your opposite hand presses against his cheek, the scar that runs along his jaw ragged under your touch. Midoriya’s lips part, the tip of his tongue hidden just behind his teeth.

“Pretty,” he echoes the word, unintentionally, you believe, by the way his face screws up once he realizes he’s said it aloud. Midoriya reels back from you, sitting back on his thighs, the tip of his cock twitching from within your core.

Your face goes bright red at the admission, your hand falling away from his face in shame. You gulp, readying yourself for another smack to your leg in admonishment at your confession. You wince, hiding yourself as best you can with him looking down at you in such an intimidating way by turning your face into the pillow, closing your eyes.

The wait feels like forever, as if he’s going to edge you with anticipation until you’ve gone blue in the face from holding your own breath. He surprises you with a gentle laugh parting his lips, screwing his eyes shut.

You take a chance and open your eyes, blinking slowly so you aren’t shocked at the expression on his face if it contrasts the giggle that sets off another round of arousal between your thighs. You lick your lips and bare your soul when you ask, “Y-You’re laughing?”

“You’re so cute, baby,” Izuku kisses your nose, his grip resetting to your thigh.

The bruising hold he has on you reminds you that even though he might come across as twinkling eyes and a mop of curls, he is the strongest hero alive, and he could crush you like a bug if he truly desired.

He tilts his head, “I think you’re pretty too.”

“Y-You’re not mad?”

Izuku furrows his brow and leans back so he can study your face in its entirety, “No, Princess, I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

“I-I just ruined the mood by calling you pretty,” you have the urge to ask him to put his fingers in your mouth just to get you to be quiet. Anything to staunch the flow of these ­superfluous words that won’t stop tumbling from your lips.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your jaw until his fingertip is pressuring your lip to stay open so he can study your teeth and gums, “Nah, you didn’t ruin the mood. Answer me this – who do you belong to?”

Instantly your thighs try to clamp together, knees wobbling at the statement and the firmness in his tone when he says it. You swallow, eyes blown wide, your tongue suddenly becoming very heavy in your own mouth. You want to whine, to cant forward and take as much of him as you can but he has you held still with a palm in the center of your chest, pinning you to the mattress as he waits for his answer.

Your hand covers his own, fingers slipping between his palm and knuckles so you can anchor yourself to him, even in this moment. Your middle and index fingers swipe back and forth over the back of his hand, finding the familiar triangular scars and tracing over them with purpose. They ground you, somehow, when your mind starts to flutter off into this subservient space and you can’t feel anything from your knees down.

“Y-You,” you manage to stutter, thighs wobbling with the stress of pinning him between your knees. Your eyelids prick with tears from the embarrassment you felt earlier, and Izuku tuts his tongue against his teeth, “Why’re you crying, pretty girl?”

You shake your head and he kneels forward to kiss you on the lips, chastely, “Or should I give you something to cry about?”

Before you can answer, he simultaneously lands a harsh slap to the inside of your thigh with one hand while pinning your neck to the pillow with the other, applying enough pressure that you wheeze. Izuku smirks down at you, watching as tears well up in your eyes and cause them to look like glassy marbles. He trails his fingertip along the inside of your thigh, your entire body quivering with the anticipation of when he will strike next.

His cock twitches within you and the movement makes your muscles jolt. Your hand smacks against his thigh as you dig your fingertips into the dense sinew. You breathe in heavily, your chest expanding, “Daddy, please.”

Izuku begins to rock back and forth slowly, dragging his cock salaciously along your inner walls, the veins and curves of his cock making your cunt flutter around his girth. You whine at the slow pace, your palms studying his skin as a distraction to keep your dirty mouth satiated. You want to beg him to go faster, to give you more friction, something, but you know better than to ask him for anything in this moment.

“If I’m Daddy,” he muses in your ear, his breath a hot wave of desire as it rolls down your neck to splay out at your shoulder, “then it’s only fair that we give you a name too, right, Princess?”

The suggestion he’s making sends a shiver down your spine and you clamp down on his cock as he slips all the way into you, the base of him flush with your lips. You grapple onto him for fear that he might pull out of you again, but you want him to be fully sheathed in you when he snarls out his next words.

In digging your nails into his skin, you find a new scar on his shoulder that you hadn’t noticed before. It is thin, just slight enough that it slipped from your radar. It is a single ridge of skin running from the back of his shoulder to his collarbone, streaking his skin with a pink color in contrast to his normally tan color. Your middle and index fingers focus on it, mapping out each bump like your life depends on it.

As his body tilts forward, your eyes catch along a patch of intense freckles at the tops of his shoulders, where the sun shines most concentrated. Your exhale, eyelids fluttering as you feel his weight press down into you the closer he comes. The palm of your hand travels to this smattering of freckles, digging into his muscles in a massaging way as you force your touch downward. Izuku’s breath hitches as you circle the pad of your middle finger tenderly over the flesh, eyelids snapping open so he can look down at you in something akin to shock.

He melts into your touch when your ankle digs into the dimples at the base of his back, yet another scar providing friction against your skin. You whimper as his hips buck forward on instinct alone, the pressure of your body pulling him forward.

Midoriya nudges his nose sweetly along the column of your throat, open-mouthed kisses placed against your main vein that leads him to your heart. He breathes slowly over your chest, nipping at the skin closest to your nipple, but far enough away that he won’t hurt you if he bites down too hard.

“Mm,” he hums as he dips his head further, curling his spine so he can kiss the top of your belly, above your navel. His palm pushes into the supple skin, thumb drifting over where your uterus sits beneath your skin, “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘till you’re full of me, Princess. Isn’t that what you want?”

You’re begging him silently with ferocious nods, dipping the pads of your fingers into his shoulder blades to pull him closer once more so he can rut into you with his strong hips. You feel the head of his cock brush against you from the inside, and that along with the added pressure of his palm pushing into you, makes you keen loudly, a whine rippling through your lungs.

At that sound, Izuku loses any and all control he might have had on his body before, one of his hands now holding your thigh up so he can dominate you from above, your ass not even flat against the mattress anymore. It’s a good reprieve from the suffocating heat beneath your back, but the only thing you can truly focus on is the way that his hips drive into you in midair, his knees bolstering him forward to fuck into you relentlessly.

“You’ll be so fuckin’ pretty with my come dripping out of this sloppy pussy,” Izuku’s voice is slurred with pleasure, his eyes closed as he ruts into you from above. You whine, your chin ducked into your chest at this angle, but it doesn’t matter that it’s slightly uncomfortable; the only thing you can pay attention to is the way he fills you up, stretching your pussy with his thick cock.

Pulling almost all the way out only to slam into you again makes your cunt clench when he’s fully sheathed to try and keep him captive. He’s too strong, though, and he pulls away easily, the added tension only providing the both of you with further pleasure. You both whine, Izuku’s head dropping so you can no longer see his eyes, forehead covered completely by dark curls caked with sweat and sticking to his skin.

Deku licks his lips and you watch as he tilts his head to gaze down at you, the primal need to see you full giving his eyes a deeper color, a green so dark it’s almost black. The sight of him so overcome with arousal makes your stomach turn, a fresh wave of heat coating your inner walls and slipping down his cock in the form of silvery slick.

He pants, his jaw hung open, “You want me to fill you up? Come in you over and over until you can’t take it anymore, until your pretty belly is bulging with my come?”

You don’t have the chance to respond when he bottoms out within you, stretching you out even further as his cock spasms with desire. It’s like he’s growing within you even more so now that he’s imagining your tummy swollen from his come. Your jaw hangs open even as you throw your head back, your hands flying to the comforter to snag what you can beneath your fingernails.

Izuku does not waste the sight of your neck, bare and open, practically begging for him to claim as his canvas. With his next stroke he is careening forward to latch his tongue and teeth onto the sensitive skin, your jugular pulsing beneath his mouth. Your hand flies upward to tug at the wild curls near the back of his scalp, your thighs held in place by his hips as he continues into you at a steady pace.

“I can’t wait to put a baby in you, Princess,” Izuku is panting in your ear now, the lewd sounds of his hips bucking into yours the only other sound you can make out. Your shoulders shudder underneath his weight but he is holding you like an anchor, so you know that you are safe in his embrace. You turn your head, so your cheek is pressing into his, leeching the heat from his skin until your own flesh is burning.

“Fuck,” Deku laps at your throat aimlessly, as if he can’t quite get where he wants, but he doesn’t know what else to do, “Gonna fill you up every time I get the chance, breed you until you’re begging for me to stop. Pump that pretty pussy full of my come until you can’t walk straight.”

Your cunt spasms around his cock and he knows that means you’re close to coming. He’s pushed off his own release in favor of coming in tandem with you, so he starts to pump into you faster, drifting a hand down to your clit to try and stimulate you closer to the precipice of pleasure. You’re whining, nails dragging against his biceps unforgivingly, “Daddy, c’mon, I want you to come in me. Please, won’t you come in me? Fuck me full of your come, please!”

The entirety of your mouth is sandpaper dry with your insistent begging. You lick your lips at the feel of his cock spasming within your core, the tip of him brushing against your cervix in a bruising manner. “I-I wanna make you a Daddy for real, please, won’t you put a baby in me?”

A feral growl parts his lips at your request, and your body clenches from head to toe at the sound. You can’t breathe, your entire being is suffocated by the essence of him – body, mind, soul. He is everything and it covers you like a hot blanket, searing into your skin until you’re branded for him.

“You want this load?” he asks breathlessly. “Want me to breed you up good?”

He is barely able to look at you when you whimper out your response. Goosebumps cover the expanse of his body as he thinks about what you’d look like, swollen with the imminent promise of his baby growing in you. Something digs into him at the base of his spine, something that makes him ache with the need to see you waddling around, unable to see your ankles as you rest your palm on the top of your tummy. Izuku squeezes his eyes shut so he can listen to your wanton desperation, sweat making the two of you stick together at every juncture.

Deku grunts one last time before all his resolve floods from his body, “Here you go, Princess, don’t waste it.”

The angle he has your body in, folded up like a pretzel, would usually make it hard for you to waste any of it, but the sheer amount of come being pumped into you makes you nervous. You feel the familiar seeping of his seed from your cunt and you reach down to try and sop it up, but Izuku beats you to it. He uses his thumb to collect the milky fluid, rubbing it over your clit to use as lubricant as his dick continues to pump the rest of his load into your abused hole.

“Good girl,” he whispers absentmindedly as he fucks you through his aftershocks, the pad of his thumb driving you crazy as you squirm beneath him. Izuku can tell by the sheer force with which you’re clamped down on him that you’re chasing your own high, your eyes squinted closed so you can focus on orgasming until you’ve coated his cock with your arousal.

Izuku fights through the bliss that’s clouding his mind to lean down and kiss over your face, “C’mon, Princess, come for me.”

When your eyes split open, the first thing you notice is the scar that cuts from his hairline down over his eyebrow, separating the tail of his brow from the base. You reach up to brush your fingertip over it, your heels dug into the curve of his ass to bring yourself closer to him, if that were at all possible. Your mouth hangs open as your thumb maps out the scar, ragged flesh the very opposite of the remaining smooth plane of his body.

“I love you,” you whisper, silent silver tears leaking from your eyes as the combination of all of your senses being stimulated pushes you over the crest, drowning you in the waves of pleasure he creates by rocking into you.

It has taken years for Izuku to understand that you paying attention to the jagged parts of his body does not mean that you would not love him if he were any less broken.

Your vision passes over each inch of his body, taking inventory of the markings on his body – freckles, blemishes, scars – as if they might have changed since the last time you looked. Your hands roam over his shoulders, finding the pale scars and dipping your fingertips against them to feel the ridges against the rough pad of your digits.

Midoriya melds his mouth against yours, lost in the taste of you as his cock spasms within your tight heat. Your entire bodies are coated in a mixture of tears and sweat and slick, but you don’t care as he lowers himself down on top of you until you’re flush with one another from shoulder to ankle.

His tongue is mapping the curvatures of your teeth when he responds in kind, “I love you, too.”

He slows once he realizes you’ve both been milked of whatever else you might have left to give. Your body is gently placed back down on the bed, hot sweat sticking to the cooled sheets. Izuku kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, lavishing each inch with the utmost affection, it could make you cry.

Your hands work through his hair, curls falling silkily between your knuckles. You lean forward and kiss the spot on his forehead where his brows are furrowed. At the feel of your affections, his expression softens and the creases on his skin soften into nothing but fine lines. Izuku smiles up at you, nuzzling your cheek, “You did so good, baby, you’re always such a good girl for me.”

“Mhm, you make it easy,” you croon into the shell of his ear as he tilts himself forward, still buried in you even as his cock goes soft. You tilt your head, curling a finger around a lock of his hair, “W-Were you serious?”

Izuku catches a glint of the diamond on your left hand, a proud grin bringing out his dimples, “You’ll know in, what, four weeks?”

The whole thing is too exciting, and you know that even though you’re still on contraceptives, it could happen. He doesn’t move to correct himself, instead waiting on your answer.

“F-Four weeks,” you nod, your tongue sitting heavy and dry in between your teeth.

Midoriya catches your hesitation, “We won’t change anything, except how many times a day I bury my cock into that pretty little pussy of yours. We’ll see if I can beat out the statistics on your medication.”

You know he’s talking about the one-in-whatever chance that your birth control doesn’t work, but the way he says it drags shivers up your spine. You curl both hands into his hair and swallow the thick emotion pent up in your throat, “You meant what you said?”

“Four weeks,” he echoes as if it should be an answer. Izuku knows better than to have a permanent conversation with you when your eyes are still glassy like this, your mind still submerged in that headspace he puts you in when the two of you fuck this way, rough and merciless. All he can do now is remember to talk to you about this once you’re both calm and rational.

Your eyes fill with a fresh set of tears and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to the base of your throat, “I’m gonna fill you up with so much come, baby. We might have to get you a plug.”

You tighten every orifice of your body, fingers dug deeper into the muscle of his shoulders. Your thumb catches on the curve of one of his particularly deep scars, slicing into him like veins on a marble slab. In your heightened state, it’s easy to feel like you’re floating in midair and might never come down, but the tactile reminder of his body beneath your fingertips gives you that anchor that you need to keep yourself from drifting too far.

Methodically, you drift the pads of your digits back and forth, a melody playing in your head that you play out against his body. The rigidity of his form, strong and barring as he loiters over you, only adds to the calm that you feel wash over your frame, settling into your bones like stardust. You feel lightheaded, but in a giddy way, the warmth of Midoriya’s body just as soothing as the patterns you’re marking into his body.

Two tears drip over the edges of your eyes and you look up at him, bringing a thumb up to brush his hair out of his eyes, “I-I wanna make you a Daddy. For real.”

You think back to the day you first met – how he stole your heart with one simple look. He has always been it for you, that you now realize. From the first syllable to now, he has reigned you in, held you beneath his thumb in such a captivating way that you don’t ever want to escape.

You want to give back to him what the world never could – a little hero of his own.

It’s a blank slate, a place to start anew. Something that the burdens of Izuku’s past can never bury under layers of scar tissue and regret. The giddiness that makes your heartbeat in a frenzy only gives you more confidence to reach forward and wrap yourself around him like an animal begging for comfort. You nuzzle your nose into his neck, “You deserve this, Izu, you deserve to be happy.”

“Hey,” he calls down to you, upturning your face with the gentle pressure of his thumb underneath your chin, “I am happy, here with you.”

Your face grows hot at his confession, and you wonder if you misconstrued your words. You swallow, rolling your hips upward to reconnect your bodies at the waist, trying to convey that you can give him so much more, that you’re offering up your body to be a martyr. Your eyes water as you link your hands around his neck, thumbing at the crest of his undercut.

“Please,” you whisper, voice broken but beautiful as your single syllable speaks volumes even in the quiet of your shared bedroom.

There is a growl that erupts in his throat and he lunges forward, sucking and licking at your neck. You whimper, falling slack in his touch as you try to keep yourself anchored to him with biting, blunt fingernails. Your jaw hangs open just enough that he can see the pink of your tongue if he leans far enough back.

As Deku reclaims your mouth in his own, the primal thing burning deep in his belly spurring his cock to go for round two, he can’t help but think to himself that he’s going to make you a momma, no matter how hard he has to try, or how long it takes.

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“Why are you so enamored by them?”

You still your hand over his bare chest, your index finger tracing the ridge of one of his biggest scars – a rippling cut straight through his pectoral, the tip of it disappearing in the curve of his muscles as they meet in the middle.

When you don’t answer, Izuku swallows the lump in his throat and sits up a little straighter, leaning his shoulders back against the headboard. He looks down his nose at you, shallow breaths making his chest inflate quickly, “I guess I just don’t understand what could be so fascinating about them. Why do you like to touch them all the time?”

You turn so you are strewn across his abdomen, your chin rested in the seam of his pectorals as you look up at him, “I guess they make me feel things.”

“F-Feel things?” Izuku’s face scrunches up in confusion, the wrinkles of his nose making you smile.

Tenderly, you brush your thumb over the creases of his forehead until he relaxes, and then you start mapping out the scarred lines on his face and taking inventory of his freckled cheeks. You sigh, chewing on your lower lip, “It depends on what’s going on, but when I look at you, I feel any plethora of things – sadness, joy, horniness…”

“My scars make you horny?”

You let out a laugh and drop your forehead down and bury it in his chest to hide the blush on your cheeks. Your palm falls from his face to his collarbone, gripping his shoulder as best you can. Midoriya joins you in laughter, tucking his nose into the crown of your head so he can plant kisses into your hair. He is always so soft and kind with you, especially in these moments after you’ve been conjoined by the hips for hours on end, your heart beating in time with his as you lay pressed flush against one another. There are moments when you are a cage of limbs and you do not know where he ends and you begin, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Seeing you all roughed up just does something to me, I dunno!” You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eye, “I like knowing that you can handle yourself, and each scar has a story and we’ve been together for years and I still don’t think I’ve heard them all.”

It looks like there is something on his mind, with the way his face tenses up as soon as you stop laughing together. You rub your ankle against his calf and force him to look you in the eyes with a gentle nudging of your knuckle against his jawline, “Hey, what’re you thinking?”

Izuku is not normally speechless or lacking in things to say. In fact, more often than not, you have to gently place your hand on his shoulder to remind him that everyone can hear his loud mutterings, or that sometimes there are more appropriate times to speak your mind. This time, his tongue lolls around within his cheeks as he tries to come up with the right thing to say.  The pattering of your heart grows faster the longer he is silenced, your pulse thudding like thunder in your ears as you anticipate what could possibly be plaguing his mind at a time like this.

Your thumb brushes against a scar near his ear and he circles his fingers around your wrist, “Would you still love me if I didn’t have them? If my skin was perfect, like Kacchan or Todoroki?”

“First of all, Todoroki has a big ass scar on his face, so jot that down,” you tease, pushing yourself up to kiss him square on the lips. You pull away from him but not entirely, still brushing your nose along the bridge of his cheeks, “And Bakugou has a stupid quirk that gives him great skin, so he’s an awful example.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes and shoves your hand away from his face, sitting up even further so you fall away from him, curling yourself into the sheets. His countenance looks overly contemplative, and it’s beginning to worry you. You sit up in the bed, grabbing his shirt off the nightstand to cover yourself with, tossing it over your head with ease. The fabric pools at your waist but it smells intoxicating, just like him, his warmth from earlier in the night somehow still sticking to the fabric to provide you comfort.

“You know what I mean,” he grits his teeth, unable to look at you as he poses the question, “I-I just…I wonder if you love them more than you love me, sometimes, is all.”

It does not take long for you to redirect his attention back to you, turning his face with a rough yank of your wrist. You look him in the eyes, and he is but a broken little boy in this moment, begging for you to piece him back together.

The thought that he is nothing more than patchwork put back together by the scars on his body makes you feel hollow inside. How can a man who has given up so much feel like so small in a moment of pure reflection? Does he not see all the good he brings to the world, and yet how little it ever dares to give back to him?

“Izuku Midoriya,” your voice is stern, and you watch as he bolsters his spine as if he were talking to a Pro Hero, “I would love you if your whole body was covered in scars or if you had perfect skin. Why would you say something like that?”

Before he can give you some long-winded answer, you throw a leg across his lap so you’re straddling him and he has nowhere to run to, nowhere to divert his attention. Your palms are on his face, cupping his cheeks and making sure to look him dead in the eyes as you give him a dose of the truth. Still, you fear your words may not be enough to satiate his wounded pride, his blistered ego.

“When I look at you, I see how much the universe has stolen from you, how much of your body the world has taken, and how everyone else just takes you for granted.” Your voice grows heavier with each word, the threat of tears sitting in your eyelids, making your face warm. “I see a man who, time and time again, gives everything up to save the world, and all it does in return is take.”

You intake a short breath, trying to calm yourself because this is his moment to ache until his heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. Now it is your job to soothe his burning soul with the salve of your reassurance, mending his inner turmoil with a metaphoric touch that you pray can seep into the cracks of his resolve until he’s full once more.

Brushing his hair away from his face, you lean in closer so you can speak softly, “You once called them ugly. I think that every single scar is a reminder of something that happened in the past. I love to hear your stories of how you got them, each heroic act displayed on your body like a little lightning bolt of truth.”

A sigh parts your lips and you drop your gaze to his chest, finding the familiar ridges of flayed skin easily. You lick your lip and trace your thumb over a few of them, relishing in the quiet moments before you have to speak again.

“I don’t love your scars, I love you.” You press your palms flat to his chest so you can cover the expanse of his pectorals beneath your hands, the heel of your palm against the swell of his chest, “I would ask you for all of your stories even if I never touched a single scar, even if I never saw one. I’d ask you because I want to know you.”

Your hands travel north towards his neck, delicately roaming over the thin skin of his throat before winding into the hair at the back of his head, “I’m so fascinated by them because I want you to know that I don’t think any less of you for them, that I don’t believe you to be weak just because you’re marked by your experiences. If anything, I think it’s beautiful, that you’ve been given this burden like Atlas, to carry around the weight of each on one your shoulders.

“But even though it’s beautiful, that does not mean that it’s right,” your voice turns cold, hard and jagged as you speak through your teeth, “How much more can you be expected to give? Does the universe not see what it’s done to you? What it’s asking of you to continue doing? I just can’t imag-oh.”

His mouth is on yours in an instant, his hands traveling up your spine beneath your shirt, palming at the skin of your shoulders. Izuku nips your lower lip and you are melting in his touch like always, “I love you.”

You tilt your head, gasping as he starts down the column of your neck, biting kisses in a warm, wet line as he descends. You echo out the sentiment in return, barely able to make out syllables with the salacious way his lips and tongue are working at your skin. Your hands twist in his hair and he pulls you flush with him so he can nudge the collar of the shirt aside to show your collarbones the same attention as your neck.

“Oh!” you pipe up, your voice hardly more than a squeak, “And I love your freckles too. They’re so cute and I love how they’re literally everywhere, even your dic-”

“Less talking,” Izuku takes you by surprise, tackling you back into the mattress, “more kissing.”

And you happily oblige.

Besides, you have the rest of your life to tell him how much you love his freckles.

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a/n: all right. that’s it. never writing deku fic EVER again. phew. kacchan, please don’t be mad, honey, it was for a friend, i swear!!!!!

also it’s almost 4 am when i’m posting this so if the last section doesn’t make sense i’m sORRY!!!

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@tui-lah @viviankennedy @bnha-homeroom @frogsmarch @anxietys-a-bitch @succulent-momma @albuquerquemalu @ali-on-reverie @iamthe-leaf @kamehamethot @hoe-biscus @ux-l3ee @lovelustdollsworld @bigbootyconnections @alexandria-selina @eianthedumbass @sanguinekeigo @desia2 @loveydoveythot @shoutosplaything @thatloserweeb @kittysocks20 @jayetheanimefreek101 @toastedpopsicles @riotfuckery @spidrskarma @panbaigel @unsafetypin @peltho @mes-bisous @ee-blue @mildlyman @moondust-and-starlight @ihaileysenpai @hijackedreese @vampiregirl70 @gwizzpanda @powderedjellidoughnut @salemthewitch​ @unknown-girlie​ @mea-100​ @crystal-is-in-the-digiworld​ @phantomjeans​ @lozmarton​ @bananayogurtbitch​ @wwhndsome​ @violeteyedkeith​ @pumapurman​ @stfucanunot​

[alphasmoonlit-selfships]

Alpha went ahead and updated a new page and two for my self shipping Carrd! This time a page for my main self ships. On my f/o’s page you will see the new link under Atsushi’s and Jason’s!

The new pages have direct links to all asks I have answered for both respective self ships! (At least i hope I got all of them lol) 😊. If you are on mobile tumblr accessing it, the page won’t load there but on the tumblr app and you’ll have to exit out to see it! Works just fine on regular web search!

Also~ went ahead and unhid my 18+ self shipping blog for the next few days, only if those 18 and up would like to follow ✨ anyone below or a minor I will instantly block, please don’t go snooping about 🚫

That’s all for now! Hope y’all enjoy the rest of your day/night! 😊 — 🐺✨

[spencerreidimagines]

Lovely Little Details

//Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

A/N: hey y’all, sorry for the late post!! This just a little coffee shop imagine that foreverrrr to get out of my head lol. Hope y’all enjoy! p.s. there usually is a read more link but I’m on mobile so this post is just gonna be left as is until I get my hands on a laptop :)

It was in a quaint coffee shop that Spencer had first laid his eyes on her. She was tucked into a corner, with her head low and her eyes steady. Her hands cupped a steaming coffee mug dotted with stars and hand painted constellations, as her eyes followed the wandering city-goers through the window beside her. A leather journal was splayed open before her; with a shift of her elbow, he caught a glimpse of the ragged manifestations of her thoughts.

He spotted lines and dots and creatures lining the side of her page, her sketches on the journal's edge were specific; definite. He followed along the coils and stray hairs that sprung from her high bun, the slope of her neck, the slight smile that rested upon her lips...

Spencer sighed and righted himself in his seat to face the nearly empty coffee cup before him; he had been staring, he realized. He clacked his fingers against the table as he silently hoped the splinted moment when they caught eyes hadn't been as noticeable as he felt it was.

A name was then shouted in the background, and through the bustle of the cafe he heard the soft kick of someones hasty steps. He'd held his breath as he ran through the incredibly slim chances that it might be that stranger from across the room, a slight knot curling in his stomach as he had no idea what to say to this woman if she decided to confront him. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, his face shriveled into a grimace before he fixed himself to face this stranger, his eyes soft and apologetic.

"I think this might be yours," a mild voice floated to his ears, "They handed me the wrong drink, then just gestured over here so..."

"Oh," he responded, surprised, before reaching to take the cup from her hands and nodding in thanks, which she waved away with an awkward smile resting on her lips.

"I also noticed you staring earlier," the beginnings of an apology began to push against his lips before she continued on, "Which normally would throw me off but, you're kind of cute, so I thought I'd just...invite you to sit with me for a while."

His brows shot up in surprise before he composed himself and checked his watch, thankful that he still had about half an hour before his lecture, "Sure," he responded as he began to gather his things.

"Alright," she sighed, donning an accomplished smile before she turned on her heel and crossed the room to return to her seat, nerves now beginning to fester in her core as she absently scanned over her notes to distract herself from the growing pit in her stomach.

‘what on Earth was I thinking?' she thought to herself before she stifled her thoughts as Spencer set his things along the back of the chair and sunk into his seat. He flashed her a courteous smile once their eyes met.

"I have to admit," he started, "I'm a little surprised that you'd invite me over here after you caught me staring."

“You know, I'm surprised myself," she admitted with a small chuckle, "I don't usually do things like this, but something about you caught my attention," She paused as her gaze flicked to his hands playing at his sleeves, he was fixing the watch to peek out of his tweed jacket, "do you have somewhere to be?" she asked.

“I have a, uh, lecture in half an hour," he responded, his voice stern and yielding against her open ears.

"You're a teacher?" she asked, brow raised in intrigue, to which he nodded with a shrug, "That explains so much about you."

"It does?" he asked, his head lightly cocked to the side.

"Mhm," she hummed, taking a sip from her mug, "You seem like the scholarly type." His eyes flicked to the side as he digested her oddly forward answer, "What's your name?"

"Spencer," he said before he quirked his brow to silently request for her own.

"(y/n)," her gaze wide and inviting, before she set her mug down with a soft clink, and rested her chin onto her hand, "So tell me about yourself, Spencer, there has to be more to you than teaching."

"I only teach lectures occasionally," Spencer flitted his eyes to the table, her unwavering attention slightly overwhelming, yet warm enough to keep his own tethered between them, "majority of the time, I work in the behavioral sciences unit, in the FBI."

Surprise and intrigue flashed across her features as she raised her mug to hide her gleaming smile, "Behavioral sciences unit, huh? So you study people?"

"That's actually a misconception," he began, "we investigate federal crimes through a behavioral lens. The creation of this department is actually a pretty interesting story," She nodded for him to go on, and as he spoke, (y/n) followed his hands as they fluttered about, "When it was first established, most of the general public didn't believe that serial killers could've had the capacity for compassion in their early lives."

"Well, in their defense, it's pretty hard to see someone as a compassionate human being after you've been a direct witness to the families that they tore apart," (y/n) responded, frankly, "So, what changed their minds?"

"The profiles started working," he said matter of factually.

(y/n) just nodded, a simple frown on her face as she digested his information, "It must've taken years for a turn around like that," she lowered her mug, "I can only imagine how hard it must've been to get that department off of the ground."

Spencer scoffed, "Yea, not many people liked to change their minds back then," he responded, accents of jest and spite dancing along his words, "So, uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an author," she responded, pride flashing across her features before melting into rested humility.

Spencer's eyes flashed before his tongue dashed across his lips, he could only imagine the worlds hidden away in her mind, "How long have you been writing?"

"Oh, I've been writing for years, and it was a challenge to find a way to get paid for it," she responded, dismissive yet firm with her voice, "nobody believed me when I said that I was going to open up the world through my words; make it seem more inviting and colorful than it's turned out to be."

He watched a storm roll across her gaze as she followed her rippled reflection in her mug, her finger lightly playing at the rim. "I know I probably just sound like every other starving artist out there," she chuckled, "but I've dreamt this big since I was a kid, so a couple of naysayers aren't going to stop me from doing what I love."

Spencer nodded, "I know how hard it is to be doubted by the people who are supposed to support you," an empathetic smile flickered across his lips, "it took my mother years to accept my career path."

"Oh, yea?" she asked, "I had no idea you could meet so much resistance in becoming an FBI agent."

Spencer chuckled, bashful, "Most of the resistance came from how young I was. The other training agents were nearly ten years older than me when I started."

(y/n) startled a bit, "Ten years? How young were you when you started working for the FBI?"

"Twenty two." He answered simply, and upon realizing her blase response, he quickly followed up with, "Most agents join the FBI in their mid-thirties."

"Oh, I see I have a genius on my hands," she jested, "somehow, that doesn't surprise me." She muttered wistfully, her hands interlocked under her chin. "The jacket, the hair, the wide intelligent eyes; you have scholar written all over you."

"You could tell that just from what I was wearing?" He asked, a mild wonder tinting his words.

"Mhm, writers study people too," she responded nonchalantly, "passers by present so many details of who they are on the surface."

He spared himself a glance as her eyes turned to the bustling city goers, drinking her in as much as he could. The white sheen of the snow covered sidewalks bounced off of her skin; she seemed to steep in the weak winter sun. He followed how her shoulders rose and fell with a wistful breath before she darted her gaze back down to her journal, her fingers caressing the page as kindly as the breeze that spins autumn leaves.

"That's how I make sense of the world," she started, "those little characteristics that no one pays any mind to make the world so bright for me, and I want to share that perspective with as many people as I possibly can."

Spencer felt the apples of his cheeks grow warm as he gathered the earnest hope held in her eyes while she cradled the page between her finger tips. Her drive to share her craft ran so deep; she was so open and honest.

Before he could get another word out, his watch beeped, drawing both of their gazes to his wrist; their half hour was up. The rising excitement in his chest deflated as he began to tuck his watch back into its place, “I hate to cut this short, but I have to go.” He said, apologetically, “When can I see you again?”

"I'm not going anywhere any time soon." An easy grin spread across her lips as she scanned her frenzied notes, “I like to come to this corner of the coffee shop whenever I have writer's block, and I usually don’t leave until I have a decent story on my hands."

Spencer's lips quirked up to a grin that matched hers, before he nodded and stood to gather his things.

"On the off chance that I do leave before you’re done lecturing," she started, grabbing a napkin and scrawling something across it, "Here's my number. I would love to see you again."

His grin widened as he took the napkin and pocketed it before gathering the rest of his things, “I’m glad you invited me over here,” he said bashfully with his hand gripping his satchel’s strap.

“I am too.” (y/n) responded, her hands cupping her mug once more, while she smiled softly, “now go before you’re late.”

With a curt nod and a gentle wave, Spencer turned on his heel, and made his way to the coffee shop doors, a slight bounce in his stride as he let his mind travel mere hours ahead of him when he could see (y/n) again. Her and her idiosyncrasies drew him in, and he could not wait to figure her out.

[riversofmars]

Oops forgot to post this on here last night when I updated lol. Hope you’re all happy with my choice of villain. And for those who don't know the Eleven/the Thirteen yet, you'll get to know them alongside the Paternoster gang as they're totally clueless themselves lol. So real hope you enjoy this next chapter, let's see where everyone is off to!

Chapter 8: Where We Started

Glasgow, 2021

Jack returned in no time at all, at least from the perspective of the team at Torchwood Two.

“You better be grateful, this took me all night and I’m starving!“ Jack announced after materialising in the centre of the room. He was crouching in between two dead bodies, holding on to a wrist each to pull them with him through the time vortex.

“Food is still warm.“ Mickey retorted and gave Jack a hand lifting the two men onto gurneys.

“What’s so significant about them?“ Ryan asked, stepping closer. There was no obvious cause of death. Both men were young, 20s, 30s maybe and looked healthy. There was no blood, no bullet holes…

“How did they die?“ Graham asked, noticing the same thing. “Who killed them?“

“We’re not quite sure on the who yet.“ One of the Osgoods answered, steppinganswered stepping up to the body on her right. She pulled a scanner from her lab coat pocket and ran it over the dead man’s chest.

“And not sure about theon the killing either.“ The other Osgood agreed as she stepped up to the other corps, mirroring her twin’s actions with a scanner of her own.

“Well, they are dead…“ Ryan couldn’t help but point out but by now he knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

“Yes, but we’re not entirely sure they meant to kill them…“ The second Osgood replied, frowning a little at the readings she was getting.

“What do you mean by that?“ Graham asked, looking around for answers. None of the others appeared surprised so he could only presume these were not the first two cases.

“These are not murders as such, we believe these are experiments gone wrong.“ Kate revealed and Ryan and Graham exchanged concerned glances.

“We’re just not sure to what end.“ Martha came to stand next to them.

“We’re not the first to notice.“ Kate carried on. It was time they filled them in properly. She had been worried about revealing too much back in Sheffield but they could talk freely now. “When dead bodies turn up, the police do tend to get involved.“

“That’s when people started disappearing from time, being erased.“ Jack concluded.

“For examining these murders?“ Ryan frowned, deeply concerned now.

“This is why we’re doing our best to keep off the radar.“ Gwen explained as they all gathered around now. “Someone is trying to cover this up and they’re using very advanced technology to do it. You can’t just erase people from time.“

“So far, whoever is behind this has not noticed our investigation.“ Kate stated, which wasn’t to say that they wouldn’t be found out eventually.  

“Or at least they have not found a way to erase us yet.“ Jack interjected, more grimly.

“Like I said previously, people who have had dealings with the Doctor, particularly those who have travelled with them, seem to be less affected.“ Kate continued to explain and one of the Osgoods added:

“By travelling in time, you become a temporal anomaly, a complex space time event. Much harder to erase than someone who has only existed in one time period.“

“I guess that makes sense…“ It didn’t make an awful lot of sense to Ryan but he chose to just accept it.

“Either way, we have to tread carefully. Someone is using humanity as guinea pigs.“ Kate crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“And we need to find out why.“ Jack nodded. “Now that we have two bodies, we might be able to do just that. And once we know what they want, we will stop them.“ His voice was full of determination.

“I will need a while to analyse.“ The Osgoods gave apologetic smiles, indicating they would like to be left in peace to do their work now.

“You best get some rest. We will have a lot of work to do soon.“ Kate smiled at Ryan and Graham who could hardly refuse the request. It had been a very long night already.

——

In orbit around the Library, 52nd Century

Paternoster Gang

“So this Thirteen person, is it possible they’re the one that took the child as well?“ Yaz asked, leaning onto the control desk as they digested the news. “They are a Time Lord, we found Time Lord technology at your house.“

“It would be an extraordinary coincidence if it wasn’t.“ Vastra agreed, she was pacing the room. Even though they had no idea what their motivations were, they had to assume the same person was behind both kidnappings. She knew nothing of the dealings either the Doctor or Professor Song had had with this particular Time Lord but she decided it didn't matter for the time being. What mattered was that they found River and her son. With any luck they were being taken to the same place. They could ask questions later.

“We need to find a way of following them.“ Jenny concluded, watching her wife pace. As much as they had hoped for a conversation with the Professor, for a chance to make their apologies and to promise to make amends, at least they had a trail to follow now.

“Did our sensors pick anything up on our approach? Any other ships in the vicinity? Someone heading away from the Library?“ Vastra asked, looking to Strax who started working the controls with military efficiency.

“We were too far out at the time. Nothing on long range sensors.“ Strax growled seemingly displeased with the efficiency of the scanners. “This wouldn’t have happened on a Sontaran warliner.“ He huffed.

“What about the Library? Do they not have any sensors or CCTV or something?“ Yaz asked as she thought back to her police training. If someone was kidnapped, looking for CCTV footage in the area would be the first step, surely.

“Excellent idea, Ms. Kahn!“ Vastra gave her a kind smile. “Mr. Maldovar, any suggestions as to how we might establish a more permanent link to the Library?“

“It’s a closed system, trying to keep out intruders, probably a defence mechanism…“ Dorium mused, putting his feelers out. What he lacked in physical mobility, he was making up for with technological know how.

“If not a video link, at least some means of data exchange?“ She gave him a kind smile. “I have every confidence in your abilities.“

“She means: see if you can hack the system.“ Jenny chuckled, recalling Dorium’s rather impressive work at Demon’s Run. It seemed as though all their expertise would be called upon at one point or another.

“I don’t suppose CAL would mind once she realises what you’re trying to do.“ Vastra carried on. “Perhaps if you started with a reassuring message for her. Would you maybe be able to get information about ships that approached or departed?“

“I shall certainly try.“ Dorium agreed, his tone gracious, but he hardly had to try at all. “Never mind, she’s ahead of us, she’s sending something across.“ Dorium looked up to the screen. “I believe we can extrapolate the course from this.“ A diagram appeared on screen, green dots outlining a route away from the planet.

“Bringing us around now.“ Strax announced as the computer worked out the course. “We shall hunt them down and shoot them out of the sky!“

“Not with Professor Song on board, we won’t.“ Vastra pointed out and Strax huffed displeased.

“Ready to jump into hyper speed.“ He grumbled in response.

“Hang on, CAL is sending some more data across.“ Dorium announced. “Just wait till… There we are, all done.“ He nodded and nearly fell out of his box doing so.

“What is it?“ Vastra asked as the ship jumped into faster-than-light travel and the stars blurred outside. They left the Library behind.  

“A file with everything the Library had to offer on the Thirteen and their previous incarnations, I’m sure that will make for exciting reading…“ Dorium almost sounded surprised.

“Clever girl!“ Jenny grinned.

“Perhaps we can learn who we are dealing with.“ Yaz felt a little better that they were all in the same boat. She wasn’t behind this time, they all had to start from scratch.

“Best to know your enemy.“ Strax grinned. “Give us the intel, head.“

——

The TARDIS

“Sorry, Doctor but I can’t take credit for that.“ The Master laughed at the look of surprise and disappointment on her face. She had hoped to get answers but there were none to be had.

“And you never will.“ It was a split second decision on the Doctor’s part as she pulled a gun from under the console.

She had always pretended she didn’t know where River had hidden her guns around the TARDIS but of course she did. She wasn’t quite sure why she had never stopped her doing it. Perhaps because she knew eventually, they would come in handy. River had borrowed the TARDIS plenty of times and if she ever got herself in a scrape, she didn’t want to leave her wife defenceless. While the TARDIS had redecorated since River had last been here, she had kept her guns where they belonged.

“Well, well, well Doctor.“ The Master smirked as she pointed the gun at him.

“Get out.“ She said.The weapon felt heavy and uncomfortable in her hand but that didn’t stop her. She couldn’t take the risk of the Master getting off Gallifrey. She had no way of knowing for sure whether he would be responsible for her son’s abduction in the future but she couldn’t take the risk. If it was the case, she would stop it here. She gestured to the door. “Now.“

“You’re not leaving me here.“ The Master laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t seem to be taking her seriously.

“Yes I am. You are not getting off this rock. You will never get the opportunity to hurt my family, ever.“ The Doctor retorted, her voice low and threatening.

“You won’t shoot me.“ The Master shrugged, taking a step closer, daring her to do just that.

“Yes I will.“ The Doctor snapped, taking proper aim.

“No you won’t. You didn’t last time and you won’t now, you’re weak.“ The spat, enjoying seeing her struggle with herself. Her kindness and reluctance to use force had always been her greatest weakness. “You think you can protect them when you can’t even find out who’s behind it all? You’re pathetic. Probably best if you don’t find your child, you’d be such a disappointment to them.“

A shot rang out and the Master staggered back. The Doctor was shocked herself but she tried her best to cover that moment of disbelief. She tightened the grip on the gun just in time for the Master to look up again.  

“Wow…“ He grinned, in a maniacal sort of way and pressed his hand to his arm. She had only grazed his shoulder. She was a terrible shot that lacked the strength of her convictions. Or at least she thought she did. Part of her couldn’t believe she had shot him at all and the other part couldn’t believe she had missed.

“The next one will be lethal.“ She threatened, squaring her jaw. She pointed to the door, hoping he would leave already and not put it to the test. In a way, leaving him on Gallifrey was just as bad as shooting him. Both were a death sentence, one just felt a lot easier than the other. Either way, she had to protect her family and if she was strong now, perhaps things would find a way of resolving themselves.

“No, it won’t.“ The Master laughed and before she could follow through on her threat, he darted forward. The Doctor felt the ground move under her feet but not because he knocked her over. He hadn’t gone for her, he had lunged for the controls.

“What have you done?“ The Doctor shouted and crashed against one of the crystalline arms in the control room. The gun was knocked from her hand and skidded off somewhere. The TARDIS was spinning, somersaulting, they were launching into the vortex.

“What have you done? You tried to kill me!“ The Master shot back and was knocked to the ground as well. The TARDIS was out of control.

“Oh because you’ve always been so restrained?!“ The Doctor snapped over the racket of them catapulting through the vortex, hitting energy fields, chronon clouds and any other kind of obstacle the vortex had to offer.

The Doctor pulled herself along the floor, towards the control panel. She had to stabilise them. Just for the moment, the Master was not her primary concern. She managed to grab hope of the console and pulled herself up, hitting the blue stabiliser button. The TARDIS stopped shaking, steadying itself and the Doctor let go a sigh of relief. She got to her feet properly and turned back to the Master who was clambering to his feet as well.

“That was really stupid and incredibly dangerous, we could have been torn apart.“ The Doctor snapped.

“I couldn’t let you leave me there. Better to be killed than return to that isolation.“ The Master huffed, slightly calmer than before. “Do you know what it was like, Doctor? Just you with your own thoughts? Not a living, breathing thing in sight?“ His tone was surprisingly genuine and there was a bitter edge to it.

“You’re not the only one who’s had a tough few decades.“ She retorted but was in no mood to fill him in on her prison sentence so she changed the subject quickly: “Can’t have been all that lonely, you told someone about the timeless child.“

“For the last time, Doctor, I didn’t tell anyone!“ He groaned in annoyance, tossing his arms in the air. He hissed as the movement sent a jolt of pain through his injured arm. “I killed everyone that could possibly have known.“

“Then it was you that told Dorium!“ The Doctor snapped.

“I already told you, I didn’t! When would I have done that?!“ The Master yelled.

“What then? Someone else just found out about the Timeless Child and happened to have taken an interest in my child?!“ The Doctor was trying to wrap her head around it. She only trusted the Master as far as she could throw them but she was beginning to doubt her previous assessment.

“Why would you think those two things are connected?“ The Master shook his head at her shortsightedness.

“What do you mean? Of course they’re connected!“ The Doctor shot back angrily.

“Because you have the word child in both sentences?“ He laughed, gesturing question marks into the air. “Come on, anyone could have taken your child with no other motive other than to get to you. And there are a lot of people who would love a way to get to you, not just me.“

“What do you mean by that?“ The Doctor frowned, taken aback. This was not something she had considered before.

“You have a lot of enemies, Doctor, have you never noticed? None as brilliant as me, obviously, but they’re out there.“ The Master chuckled, giving her a patronising look.

“Is that a hypothetical or do you actually know something?“ The Doctor pressed on. There had to be more there than he was letting on.

The Master shrugged.

“Because if you don’t and you claim to have nothing to do with it, I might as well take you back to Gallifrey.“ She stepped up to the console, intent on changing the course.

“Don’t.“ The Master grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “You know I have nothing to do with this and I don’t know where your child is.“

“You’re gonna have to give me more than that.“ The Doctor shook him off. “You know something… what did you do?“

“Alright… I may be guilty of a teensy little fibette…“ The Master smirked, clearly enjoying this. “Perhaps someone did hear about the timeless child… so maybe it is connected to the kidnapping of your child after all… though, I wonder how they would have found out about your son…“ He mused but was interrupted when the Doctor grabbed him by the collar of his coat.

“What did you do?“ She growled, fresh anger shooting through her.

“I just wanted to play… create a little chaos…“ The Master grinned.

“What did you do?“ She repeated pulling him closer.

“Every species has their black sheep don’t they… apart from you and me of course…“ He smirked.

“You didn’t…“ The Doctor’s eyes widened as she sensed where he was going with this. So close to him, she could almost see his memory of it in her own mind.

“What do you think would happen if you free all of Gallifrey’s bad boys and girls in one go? I couldn’t create all that destruction just by myself, could I.“ The expression in his eyes was nothing short of madness.

“And you think someone fled the planet before you destroyed everything?“ The Doctor carried on and he shrugged:

“Who knows, I didn’t keep count.“

——

Space, 52nd Century

“It’s not much… bits and pieces of his misadventures… this bit is interesting, it’s a footnote from the Book of the Revenants, you know the Doctor has her own volume.“ Dorium flicked through the data in his mind, keeping quiet for a moment as he focused.

“Yeah she’s mentioned that…“ Yaz couldn’t help but smile at the fond memory. What a carefree adventure that had been in comparison to what was happening now. She wondered how the Doctor was doing. She had no idea River had been taken as well… Perhaps they should try to contact her…

“As if their head wasn’t big enough…“ Vastra sighed. “What does it say?“

“It’s a brief description of their personalities, stops at twelve, sadly.“ Dorium revealed and he started to recite: “Originally a member of the High Council on Gallifrey, the One fell from grace and became one of Gallifrey’s most notorious criminals. Suffering from regenerative dissonance, the personalities of their regenerations remain within their consciousness. Following incarnations are known and distinguishable. The One: the archivist, often pedantic and knowledgeable on many Gallifreyan secrets.“

“So he could have known about the Timeless Child?“ Jenny jumped in, listening closely and her wife nodded in agreement. They had yet to find out what exactly that phrase was meant to mean. The Doctor hadn’t filled them in but somehow, that secret from Time Lord lore seemed to be at the centre of everything.

“Indeed…“ Vastra mumbled. “What else does it say?“

“Brief descriptions of the others, make them more distinguishable I suppose…“ Dorium continued: “The Two: The charmer, a charismatic liar and manipulator; and the Three: The Juvenile, childish and self-centred, prone to tantrums and violence.“

“Not unlike the Master then, makes sense you would confuse them.“ Yaz wondered if the Doctor just attracted a certain kind of mad man to face off against. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it was an amusing thought.

“The Four: The intellectual, a sophisticated and arrogant game-player. The Five: The joker, a funny, wise-cracking and confident trickster. The Six: The psychopath, extremely violent and unstable.“ Dorium carried on as the others listened intently.

“A man after my own heart.“ Strax grinned.

“The Seven: The scientist, clever and calculated with vast scientific knowledge.“ Dorium chose to ignore Strax’s comment and skipped to the next one.

“It sounds like he would have quite the arsenal of abilities at his disposal.“ Vastra mused, trying her best to commit the different personalities to her memory. There was no way of knowing if and when it would become useful. If their hunt was successful, they would soon find themselves face to face with this mysterious Time Lord.

“The Eight: The good man, who unlike his other selves strove to do good.“ Dorium raised his eyebrows, surprised. He checked the data entry twice, just to be sure.  

“Interesting…“ Vastra pursed her lips and Jenny added:

“People don’t have to be just good or just bad, there are two sides to everyone…“

“I’m beginning to see that…“ Yaz admitted, thinking back to the Doctor and the way she had been acting in Dorium’s bar. Her anger and fear had brought out the worst sides of her. She could only hope she was doing okay where she was now.

“The Nine: The kleptomaniac, driven by greed and prone to theft.“ Dorium continued reciting: “The Ten: The hypnotist, confident and able psychic.“

“Another useful ability…“ Vastra commented.

“The Eleven: The schemer, clever, patient and determined.“

“None of them particularly sound like a breeze to deal with…“ Jenny sighed.

“The Twelve: The matriarch, first female and last known regeneration. They are presumed dead.“ Dorium concluded at last.

“Imagine what that’s like, having all those personalities inside you.“ Yaz shook her head to herself. Anyone might go mad under those circumstances.

“I shall be glad to put them out of their misery.“ Strax announced, checking through his blaster rifle.

——

Unknown

“Wakey-wakey…“

River’s head was spinning. She was disoriented. The flood of sensation that came over her was painful in its intensity. She had a splitting headache. Her chest burned with every breath and she coughed. Light was blinding her, her eyes were refusing to adjust just yet. Her muscles were stiff and her joints ached, as if she was awakening from a long sleep.

That was when she realised she had corporal shape. She had a body. She tried to move but found her muscles wouldn’t cooperate, not just yet anyway. She was still getting used to breathing again.

“What…“ She tried to speak but she couldn’t produce sound yet. She felt utterly helpless but she was alive.  

“There we are, slowly coming to.“ The voice seemed very distant and her ears were only just getting used to processing sound again.

“A Time Lord’s body is a miracle. Even one that has spent all their regenerations.“ There was another voice but she couldn’t place it either. Her mind was still trying to catch up to where she was, how she had got here, what had happened last. The Library… had it all been a bad dream?

“She’s not a Time Lord.“ The first voice grew sharper and was beginning to sound more familiar as her senses began to normalise.

“Close enough.“ The second sounded female.

“What’s taking so long?“ There was the first voice again but changed. “Patience, Three.“ River knew that she knew this person but her brain wasn’t at full capacity yet. She blinked against the light. If only she could make something out. She was slowly adjusting. “You did a good job keeping her body intact.“

“The machine will restore her, it might take a while but she will be herself soon enough.“ River knew she had heard the female voice before, too.

“I hope so, I do like them with a bit of bite.“ The Thirteen. The memories were coming back to River now. She had been in the Library and someone had hacked into the system. He must have taken her, brought her elsewhere, returned her to a body. How had he done it?

“No.“ River whispered, her voice horse as her vocal chords hadn’t been used in a long time. It was like she had to learn how to use her body all over again. That was when she realised how she knew the second voice, a voice that still haunted her nightmares.

“Hello Melody.“ Madame Kovarian smirked, leaning over and into her field of vision.

“What are you…“ River tried to reach and push her away, she managed to raise her hands but collided with a glass case. She pressed her hands against it, she was in a glass tube of some kind. Or was it a coffin? She looked at her hands, pressed against the glass, finding her skin red and raw from the electrocution she had suffered while connecting herself to the Library core. She should have been dead. She had been dead. They had brought her body back to life and it was painful.

“Easy now, Melody, dear. A few days and your body will be good as new.“ Kovarian smirked. “Lucky really we got there in time but you were right, Time Lords take forever to properly die…“

“What are you planning on doing with me?“ River managed to turn her head and spotted the Thirteen standing behind Kovarian, watching with a content smirk on his face.

“All in good time, Professor, get your strength back now. It’s no fun beating you when you’re already down.“

[jackrrabbit]

ask answering/updates

first of all, thank you 💘 second of all...

ok ok ok don’t get too excited, but I finally got the juice to start working on the next part of Fanatic 🖤 most of you guys will be like ‘who cares’ but i know some of you have been waiting for this for a while! it’s been what, 2 months?? hope I’m not jinxing myself by saying this *knocks on wood* also not to hype myself too much but it’s kinda bomb 😳 maybe this is just my sick bias but I’ve really been wanting to write about...aftermath iykwim haha. reader all scared & shy & trying to avoid him but yk he’s not going to leave her alone :P

I also figured out the ending to it will come back!! it wouldn’t be shiggy if it didn’t get dangerous 😈 also gonna be nice to write some eyes-rolling-back-in-the-head fuckery so our favorite handsy creep can finally get his dick wet with his beloved little nursey <3

here are some other vague ideas, some based on requests, some not. as always no promises!!

BNHA—pillage & plunder with fantasy AU warlord Bakugo (and his gang of ruffians?? hmm...)

BNHA—Overhaul makes you work off your daddy’s gambling debts the extra hard way uwu...also I have SO many ideas for Overhaul 😷 after I finish iwcb my next multi-part fic will probably be with him

BNHA—various things with reader as an aspiring villain set in the same universe as Caught in the Act: reader getting quarantined with shiggy & dabi...dabi getting mad at you after you keep fucking up...incel shiggy jacking it to his adorable protégée without her knowledge (a galaxy brain request from a very good buddy!!!!)

BNHA—ABO with alpha Hawks and omega reader in an elevator...and uh-oh, it’s stuck! and you’re going into heat! oh no, whatever will you do??

Haikyuu—you get stuck in a hole in a wall, good thing your dutiful boyfriend Kuroo is there to help you out ;)

Haikyuu—gangbang with Tsukki, Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo...a challenge bc I’ve never written a gangbang before!! will have to do some research 🧐

Haikyuu—your bf Atsumu does mean things when he’s jealous, like putting his hands up your skirt in public

KNY—Kokushibou decides to keep a shrine maiden as his cute little human pet 💜 actually already wrote pt. 1 but I’ll wait to post til I’m done with Fanatic

AxK—just some no good very bad yandere content with Dr. Midori...neglect play stuff...sensory deprivation stuff...icky icky

Gintama—something with Kamui. does this count as monsterfucking? very very rough...idk what exactly? some form of dastardly acts

thanks for the concern friends 💕💕 I’ve been preoccupied by things happening irl for the past few weeks, trying to educate myself, going to protests, etc.

also in case anyone else is confused, my stance is and always has been that Black lives matter and all cops are bastards. I’m not sure my porn blog is the right place to talk about this at length but if you’re a bootlicker, please smash that unfollow button and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. if you don’t already have a decently functioning moral compass you should not get anywhere near my writing...fr

learn more and get involved

omg thank you & yes yes a million times yes!!! hope you don’t mind commitment issues and student loan debt 💝👯‍♀️

the line between not hawksfucker and hawksfucker is very thin and very blurry, beware.....lol and thank you!!

the video you recommended...like damn!!! that’s exactly the vibe I feel like fratty Hawks x reader from be a little bad would be like if they had a happy ending eventually (start at 1:39)!!!!! “I didn’t make you do this” “I’m not accusing you of anything” it’s that exact dynamic. imo Hawks might be a little less willing to make things official and reader would prob have a hard time being straightforward enough to ask tho...hmmm

I did get several requests for a part 2! I’m thinking it over atm. I will say tho that most of my reqs have very slow turnaround so if I write it, it might be a while

ooh I love getting recommendations! here’s what I like:

fanfic: I read stuff like what I write (smut, kink, yandere, villains). at some point I’m going to make a long post of fic recs of my own! I also read fluff and character x character ship fic so interests are pretty broad

TV: humor, crime shows like Bones, Criminal Minds, Psych, that kind of thing. nothing too dark or complicated, nothing that requires too much investment. same goes for anime

movies: pretty much everything! lately I’m really into Howl’s Moving Castle and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

books: literary fiction. can I say I’m into dark academia if the only dark academia I’ve read is The Secret History? favorite books I’ve read semi-recently are TSH, All the Light We Cannot See, The Poisonwood Bible, and Discipline & Punish. currently reading Foucault’s History of Sexuality

music: idk man...all kinds of stuff. I listen based on vibe more than genre. all my spotify playlists are named things like “sunday” and “the power” and “[sparkle emoji]”. my artists on repeat are Hozier, The Weeknd, Kendrick, M.I.A., The Neighborhood (F I’m a basic bitch) but I’ll try anything once

jfc these two asks have given me so much hope 🥰😭💗 you know what? sooner or later I’m going to post Kamui x reader smut and it’s going to get 3 notes from the three of us liking it and that’s okay because I’ve thirsted over this man too long and too hard to go my entire life without reading over-indulgent reader-insert porn of him. yes the villain kink jumped out but DAMN!!! the man has ‘h*rny scumbag who lets his instincts rule him’ baked into both his DNA and his psyche, and I’m so here for it 😌

if you don’t know who Kamui is, do me a favor and watch gintama. yes there are like 400 episodes but it’s worth it. I will convert more bitches to the gintama thirst train if it costs me my life. Kamui was made to star in disrespectful breeding kink smut and this is a hill I will die on.

??? sure, if you can point me toward part 2 ????? lmao

I’m guessing you meant to ask for a pt 2 instead of pt 3? in which case, thanks for asking!! but tbh...for some reason I have a really hard time imagining what a pt 2 would look like, maybe because I wrote it 100% from Overhaul’s POV so it’s hard for me to define the reader’s feelings. I’m not saying it’ll never happen but 🤷‍♀️

HOWEVER if it’s Overhaul content in general you’re craving, you’re in luck!!! he’s a favorite of mine. legit he ticks so many of my boxes—villain kink? check. medical/scientist kink? check. yakuza kink? honey I’m weak. I’ll definitely be writing more for him in the future!

oh no! I checked it on my computer & on mobile and all of the links are working for me? are the links still broken for you guys?

anyway, here are the rules, here’s the short version of the request rules, and here is part 1 and part 2 of it will come back.

thank you to everyone who has sent kind words, everyone who replies to my writing, and everyone who posts thirst in the tags!!! I read that shit!!!! and it makes me fucking cry, I love you all

one more thing: several people have requested continuations to Sleepless, Sidekick, and Fanatic. on one hand, I’m so flattered that you guys want more!!! on the other hand, I actually already answered asks about pt. 2′s for those particular fics. before you request a continuation of anything, it’s probably a good idea to look up the name of the fic as a tag on my blog so you can check and see if anyone else had the same question 💖💖💖

[freyayuki]

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Japan Current Progress Part 5

I started playing the Japanese version of the Final Fantasy Record Keeper (#ad) (FFRK) mobile game during its recent Fire Chocobo event. Since then, I’ve managed to do a lot of things in this game. Here’s a list of my current progress.

Before that, let me start by saying the reason why I started playing the Japanese version of FFRK. It’s the same reason why I’m also playing the English version. The answer is Genesis Rhapsodos from Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core. Currently, he’s my absolute, most favorite Final Fantasy character. He’s in Final Fantasy Record Keeper, so that’s why I’m also here.

Record Dungeons

I’m trying to finish more quests in the Record Dungeons so I can increase the amount of Crystal Waters I can give to my chars. This will let me raise their stats even more. So far, I’ve only given Crystal Waters to a few of my charas.

Naturally, Genesis was the first one I gave them to. And, as can be expected, I gave him all the Crystal Waters for all the stats. Yes, even the ones that increase his Magic and Mind. What, he doesn’t need those stats since he’s a physical attacker? Yeah, I know. I wanted to give them to him anyway. Hell, if I could, I’d give him all the Crystal Waters I’ve managed to obtain.

For the others, I just gave them the ones that increased the stats that were important to them such as giving Elarra (from Final Fantasy Record Keeper) the one that raised her Mind (increases the healing output of healers) but not bothering to give her the one that would raise her Attack or Magic stat.

There’s a lot of quests to go through in the Record Dungeons, and they all take quite a bit of time to finish. This is the case even though I’m basically skipping all the cut scenes. It’s not like I can understand them anyway since all the text is in Japanese. From what little I’ve seen, there are a lot of cutscenes and most are quite long.

Update a.k.a much later - I finally reached the part of the Record Dungeons quests that let me give more Crystal Waters to my charas. Yay! So pleased to be able to increase my fave’s stats even more.

Another thing to be happy about was that maxing Genesis’s Crystal Waters will finally give me my first char with a 100% Historia Link. I can now also hopefully get more of my chars to 100% so I can increase my Final Fantasy VII Historia Crystal Link Synergy percentage, which is currently only at 350%.

So I just finished giving Genesis all the Crystal Waters. I’ve moved on from mastering Level 1 to Level 2.

Right after taking the above screenshot, I went to check my Historia Links so I could take a pic of that as well. But when I got there, I saw that Genesis’s Historia Link is still at 90%. What? Why? 

As it turns out, there’s a third Level to Crystal Waters, and I need to do more Record Dungeons quests to unlock that. In short, for now, I can say goodbye to 100% Link Synergy. Sigh. Ah, well, it’s fine. Whether it happens sooner or later doesn’t really matter. The point is that it will happen because, of course, I’ll be giving my fave all the stats. LOL.

Shopping in the The Record Lab

The The Record Lab features a lot of different relics that belong to various characters. You can buy these items using Anima Lenses. Of course, not all Soul Breaks are available here. For instance, you can’t buy Awakenings or Syncs. There are also chars who don’t have a single relic in the Lab. This includes Genesis, which vexes me since I unfortunately don’t have all of his stuff in this account. I can only hope that the game will update the The Record Lab to include his relics and/or feature them on a banner soon so I can pull for them.

Anyway, a number of Elarra’s relics are available in the The Record Lab. Too bad her Awakened Arcane Soul Break (AASB), Magika Phoenix, isn’t because I’d totally love to have it. She’s my main healer and she works well enough even with just her Ultra Soul Break, Magika Album. Yeah, she’s that OP. Still want her Awakening anyway since that one grants Last Stand and can resurrect dead allies.

Previously, I bought Elarra’s Glint+ Soul Break, Magika Amuletum. For quite a while, that and her Magika Album, were more than enough for me. Actually, these 2 are still more than enough. Nevertheless, now, I decided to get another one of her Soul Breaks so she has something else to cast when I don’t need to use her Magika Album yet. 

This time, what I bought was Elarra’s Ultra Soul Break, Magika Orare. Apart from restoring the party’s HP, it also grants them critical damage +50% for 25 seconds, which means critical hits will deal 50% more damage.

Much later, I also decided to buy a few of Tyro’s (from Final Fantasy Record Keeper) relics as well. I got the following for him:

Overstrike Soul Break, Arbiter’s Apocrypha - increases the Attack, Defense, Magic, and Resistance of all allies by 15% for 25 seconds

Ultra Soul Break, Arbiter’s Tome - increases the critical hit chance of all allies, which combos well with Elarra’s Magika Orare

Legend Materia Relic, Archival Secrets - lets Tyro begin battles with no action delay for 2 turns

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Daily Free Draw

Each day, FFRK lets you do one free draw. You can only get 1 item from this pull, and it’s almost always useless trash. It’s possible to get 5-star or higher rarity items here, but it’s very, very rare.

It looks like there’s some sort of event or something going on because, just now (the 1st of August 2020), when I went to do my usual daily free draw, I got a multi-draw instead of a single one. Yup, much to my surprise, instead of the single orb I was expecting to see, several showed up. Definitely not complaining though. This is great. 

I ended up getting one rainbow, which turned out to be Selphie's Guise (VIII), a 5-star rarity, Light Armor-type relic that contained Selphie Tilmitt’s (from Final Fantasy VIII) Legend Materia Relic, SeeD Spirit. 

This gives a small chance to grant Last Stand after a White Magic ability triggers. Since this is my first relic for Selphie, having this doesn’t make her usable. I’d need more of her Soul Breaks before considering adding her to my party. 

Daily Multi-Draw Day 2

Next day, I got Precious Watch (VII), another 5-star rarity relic. Looks like this one is a Shared Soul Break, which is something that a lot of chars can use, assuming they can equip the weapon or armor in question. 

This one appears to be called Healing Moment. It only costs 1 gauge and it restores a small amount of HP to all allies. I’ve already got Elarra whose Soul Breaks restore way more HP than this, so this one is just plain terrible.

Daily Multi-Draw Day 3

On the third day, I ended up with 2 5-star relics. The first one is Rune Saber (Type-0), a Sword-type relic that gave me Queen’s (from Final Fantasy Type-0) Super Soul Break, Magic Martyr. It deals physical lightning and dark attacks to one enemy and casts Esuna on all allies. Not bad since it also provides some party utility aside from just dealing damage.

The second one is Abel's Lance (IV), a Spear-type relic that gave me Kain Highwind’s (from Final Fantasy IV) Burst Soul Break, Dragoon's Pride. It deals lightning and non-elemental attacks to all enemies. It also infuses Kain with the power of lightning and grants him Burst Mode.

These are my first relics for these chars, so, yeah, doesn’t make them usable. They are better than getting nothing more than a Legend Materia Relic since at least these Soul Breaks deal damage. It’s just too bad that Supers and Bursts have been horribly powercrept by now.

Genesis Rhapsodos Crystal Waters Level 3

Finally managed to finish all of the Record Dungeons quests needed to go from Crystal Waters Level 2 to Level 3. I think this is the last Level, which is too bad ‘cause I want to keep increasing my fave’s stats.

Genesis Rhapsodos Historia Link

Maxing out Genesis’s Crystal Waters means his Historia Link is now finally 100%. Yes! At the moment, he’s the only one with a 100% Historia Link.

Realm/Elemental x 11 Ticket

In the Japanese version of Final Fantasy Record Keeper, you can get a Realm/Elemental x 11 Ticket by completing certain missions in the Books of Trials. 

You can use this Ticket to draw on any one of the available Realm or Elemental banners. You get 11 items per pull. One of the relics you’ll get is guaranteed to be of 5-star or higher rarity.

In the English version of the game, you can also get one of these Tickets every 15 days as a login reward. Unfortunately, this isn’t the case in the Japanese version. So it took me a while before I finally managed to acquire some more of these Tickets. 

Right now, I have 2 on hand and I decided to toss them on the Final Fantasy VII Realm banner, just like what I’ve done with all the other Tickets I’ve obtained so far. It’s pointless to expect anything from these draws, considering the rates are really low. Nevertheless, I can’t help but hope that I can at least get something that’ll be of use to me.

Final Fantasy VII Realm Banner Ticket 1

Meh, looks like we’re off to a bad start. Only 1 disco orb showed up on this draw. I suppose I should just be glad that it wasn’t a mere rainbow orb. Still, unless this turns into a Sync or an Awakening- Sigh.

The disco orb turned into Mako Katana (VII), a 6-star rarity, Katana-type relic which gave me Sephiroth’s Ultra Soul Break, Heartless Angel. It deals physical dark attacks, temporarily grants Sephiroth Empowered Infusion for the dark element, lowers his Defense and Resistance and raises his Attack. Not bad, but his other Ultra, Zanshin, is way better. I wish I had gotten that instead.

At least this isn’t my first relic for him. I actually have his Synchro Arcane Soul Break (SASB), Demonic Lord, and his Super Soul Break, Transience. Syncs are currently the best kind of Soul Break in the game. 

Final Fantasy VII Realm Banner Ticket 2

The second Ticket also gave me only one disco orb. Thankfully, the result was much better when compared to Ticket 1. At first, I didn’t think so though. I got what appeared to be a rod or wand. I thought it looked familiar, like I’d seen it somewhere before so I was sure I had just gotten a dupe. I was already feeling disappointed since only one disco orb showed up. Believing that I had gotten a dupe didn’t help matters at all.

Then I got to the draw results screen and immediately found out that, nope, I didn’t get a dupe. I got something new. It was Wonder Wand (VII), a 6-star rarity, Rod-type relic which gave me Aeris or Aerith Gainsborough’s Awakened Arcane Soul Break (AASB), Star Pulse. It does a lot of things - restores the party’s HP, grants them Last Stand, reduces delay of everyone’s physical attacks for 3 turns, grants Aerith unlimited uses of White Magic-type abilities, and more. In short, it’s super special awesome.

In this account, before getting Star Pulse, I only have one other relic for Aerith - her Ultra Soul Break, Innocent Cure. Getting her Awakening was more than enough reason for me to give her all the Crystal Waters needed to get her Historia Link to 100%.

Like I said before, I thought I had gotten a dupe from this draw instead of something new. I thought I got yet another copy of Aeris’s Innocent Cure. Taking another look at Healing Rod (VII), the weapon that gave me Aerith’s Ultra, I see it and Wonder Wand (VII) don’t look the least bit alike. 

So why’d Wonder Wand (VII) look so familiar then? The answer is because I have seen this item before. Not here though. I’ve seen this in my English account. I’ve more than seen this. I actually have it there. I’m so glad that now, I have it in my Japanese account as well since I’ve been missing it.

Even though I would have preferred to get more than one disco orb from this pull, being able to acquire Aerith’s Awakening has appeased me. Still hoping my next draws will be even better though.

Daily Multi-Draw Day 4

The 4th day’s free multi-draw gave me Xezat's Gauntlets (V). which contained Xezat Matias Surgate’s (from Final Fantasy V) Legend Materia Relic, Head of the Fleet. It gives a small chance for Spellblade abilities to trigger twice. This is my first relic for him so it’s useless.

Too bad LMRs can only be equipped by their owners. I wouldn’t mind giving this to Genesis. He’s primarily a Spellblade user so he can benefit from this even if it’s only a “small chance”.

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Elemental Banners

So I just did something dumb. Several somethings, actually. Yeah, I really regret this now. Wish I hadn’t done it. If it had turned out well, it wouldn’t be so bad. Except it didn’t turn out well at all. It was really bad. Ugh. Just thinking about it is making me furious. Eff this game and its crappy rates. Why’d I do this? Damn it.

So what’d I do? I decided it was apparently a good idea to pull on a few of the Final Fantasy Record Keeper Elemental banners. No, I don’t have anymore Realm/Elemental x 11 Tickets. I just used up the last of what I had on hand and I have yet to complete more missions that will give me more Tickets.

The thing is you can pull on these banners even without Tickets. You have to use mythril (in-game currency for pulling) or gems (also in-game currency for pulling but you can only get this if you use real money) though. The first time you pull on any one of these banners, it will only cost you 15 mythril instead of the usual 50.

Previously, I’d already done the first pull on the Final Fantasy VII and Final Fantasy Record Keeper Core Realm banners. Then I proceeded to ignore the rest of the banners, which was the right thing to do since they include so many different relics, a lot of which have long been powercrept, that it’s nigh impossible to get one of the top tier relics. 

The rate to get a 7-star item or Sync isn’t even 1%. I’d have been better off if I’d continued ignoring these banners. It’s fine to use Tickets since it’s not like you can use them anywhere else and they basically amount to a free multi-draw. Even if you get crappy relics from these draws, at least it didn’t cost you anything.

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Dark Elemental Banner

The rate for 7-star relics on this banner is 0.67619%. Two disco orbs showed up on my 15-mythril pull. The first one turned into Maximillian (II), a 6-star rarity, Heavy Armor-type relic that gave me Leon’s (from Final Fantasy II) Ultra Soul Break, Darkness Breaker. It deals physical dark and non-elemental attacks and even grants all allies a barrier that reflects a portion of damage taken. This is my first relic for Leon.

While this Ultra doesn’t seem bad, it doesn’t make me want to use Leon. I would have preferred to get a dark Sync or Awakening or even just a relic that can Imperil (lower the enemy’s resistance to an element) dark. I mean, the barrier from Darkness Breaker sounds pretty good, but I already have a great healer, so this isn’t that important to me.

The second disco orb turned into Black Mask (XII), a 6-star rarity, Hat-type relic that gave me Vayne Carudas Solidor’s (from Final Fantasy XII) Glint+ Soul Break, Dark Conquest. It deals physical or magic dark and non-elemental attacks and temporarily grants Vayne Empowered Infusion for the dark element. This is my first relic for Vayne.

Leon’s Ultra is way better than this. Aside from providing a bit of party utility via the barrier, it can be used multiple times as long as you have the required gauges to do so. In contrast to that, Dark Conquest requires 0 gauges, but it can only be used once. In short, this was a crappy draw. How I wish I could have gotten other relics instead. Sigh.

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Wind Elemental Banner

Next, I pulled on the Final Fantasy Record Keeper Wind Elemental banner. The rate for 7-star relics here is 0.73973%. This draw gave me 1 rainbow orb and 1 disco orb.

The rainbow orb turned into Fujin's Shin-Chakram (VIII), a 5-star rarity, Throwing-type relic that gave me Fujin’s (from Final Fantasy VIII) Burst Soul Break, Metsu. It deals magical wind and non-elemental attacks while also lowering the Magic and Resistance of enemies. Meh. There are already abilities that lower the stats of enemies. It’s easier and faster to activate skills as opposed to waiting until you have enough bars to cast a Soul Break. Also, AFAIK, this is my first relic for Fujin. In short, I hate this draw.

The revelation of the disco orb doesn’t change that at all. If anything, it just made me hate this pull even more. I mean, of all the things to get- Argh! So freaking frustrating. I might have been better off just getting yet another 5-star. The relic I just got may be of 6-star rarity, but it’s utterly useless if I have nothing else for the char in question. Heck, it’s still not likely to see much use even if I had relics for this char.

So what did I get? The disco orb turned into Ozma's Splinter (IX), a 6-star rarity, Sword-type relic that gave me Zidane Tribal’s (from Final Fantasy IX) Arcane Overstrike Soul Break (AOSB), Rumble Twister. It deals 3 physical wind attacks that can break the damage cap. It costs a whopping 3 bars before it can be cast and it can only be used once per battle. In short, this is more of a finisher-type of Soul Break, the kind you might use near the end of the battle, assuming you have enough gauges to do so.

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Fire Elemental Banner

You’d think getting crap from the Wind Elemental banner might have clued me in that it was a bad idea to keep going. But, no, instead of stopping, I decided to head straight for the Fire Elemental banner. I suppose I thought or wanted to believe that this draw would be much better, considering the results of the previous pull.

The rate for 7-star relics on the Final Fantasy Record Keeper Fire Elemental banner is 0.55155%. This was one of my worst pulls ever. Only 1 rainbow orb showed up. I don’t even know what it is, but I hate it already. I hate this draw. I wish I’d never pulled on this banner. What a complete and total waste of 15 mythril. Ugh. 

Shouldn’t have done this. Really shouldn’t have done this. Sigh. I guess I should just be glad this draw didn’t cost me 50 mythril. Getting only 1 5-star relic for 50 mythril would have been even more devastating and depressing than this. As it is, the result of this pull has me feeling really bad and making me hate this game and its crappy, trashy rates. Pity system when? 

Anyway, what I ended up getting was Staff of Light, a 5-star rarity, Staff-type relic. This gave me Dr. Mog’s (from Final Fantasy Record Keeper) Legend Materia Relic (LMR), Archives’ Promise. It temporarily increases Dr. Mog’s elemental damage when he’s low on HP. It only triggers once per battle. In other words, this is one of the worst relics ever. It doesn’t even deal damage. And I don’t have anything else for Dr. Mog. Did I mention that I hate this pull? Because I hate this pull. Argh! I wish it never happened. I want to go back. Gimme back all the 15 mythril I just wasted, please. Why’d I do this? Sigh. Eff this game and its crappy, trashy rates.

Daily Multi-Draw Day 5

The 5th day’s daily multi-draw gave me nothing. No, seriously, it gave me nothing. It was utterly disappointing, to say the least. And here I thought we were guaranteed to get at least one 5-star from this pull. Apparently, that’s not the case at all.

Daily Multi-Draw Day 6

The 6th day’s daily multi-draw gave me Ultima Sword (IX), a 5-star rarity, Sword-type relic. This contained Adelbert Steiner’s (from Final Fantasy IX) Unique Soul Break, Sword Art Stock Break. It only costs 1 bar to activate and it deals physical attacks with a moderate chance to paralyze its targets. Meh. At least I didn’t get nothing this time, but this is still meh anyway. I wish I could get even just 1 6-star from these pulls.  

Daily Multi-Draw Day ?

It’s a question mark ‘cause I don’t know anymore what day this is supposed to be. I mean, it should be day 7, but I ended up skipping a few days. My crappy pulls didn’t help in motivating me to log on to the game. I didn’t feel concerned about missing days since it wasn’t like I was getting anything good anyway. In fact, every time I did the daily free multi-draw, I felt nothing but complete and utter disappointment, not to mention utter frustration at all the trash I’ve been getting. 

Anyway, this particular draw gave me yet another 5-star item. This time, it was Bone Club (VI), a Hammer-type relic that contained Umaro’s (from Final Fantasy VI) Burst Soul Break, Master's Voice. It deals physical ice and non-elemental attacks. One of its Burst Mode abilities restores HP to one ally and removes delay from their actions for one turn. So, it doesn’t seem that bad. Still, I wish I could get something more useful than this. How ‘bout relics for chars that I’m already using? How ‘bout relics that can help me tackle more difficult content? 

Daily Multi-Draw Day ?

This day’s multi-draw happened right after the previous one where I got Umaro’s Burst. This pull gave me my first 6-star from these daily multi-draws. Too bad it’s useless. What I got was Parrying Daggers (Type-0), a Dagger-type relic which contained Rem Tokimiya’s (from Final Fantasy Type-0) Arcane Overstrike Soul Break (AOSB), Saintly Dagger Toss. 

It’s basically the same as Zidane’s except this one deals 20 white magic and holy dark attacks. Like with Zidane, this is also my first relic for Rem. So, yeah, this relic is beyond useless unless I get more stuff for Rem. Sigh. Why couldn’t I get something that I can actually use instead of stuff that’s just gonna rot in my inventory for the foreseeable future?

Daily Multi-Draw Day ?

This day’s daily multi-draw gave me- ugh, this is just frustrating. I don’t care anymore. I hate these pulls. I keep getting nothing but crap and more crap. The 5-stars are useless. The few times I actually manage to get a 6-star, it’s also useless. I hate this. I really hate this. And writing about the results of my crappy draws is just depressing me and making me hate this game’s trashy rates even more than I already do. So I’m not gonna bother writing about this anymore. I’ll only mention it here in this post if I actually manage to get something good.

End of Daily Multi-Draw

It’s over. There are no more daily multi-draws. I’ve done a few more pulls, but I’ve also ended up skipping a lot of days. Unfortunately, I never got anything useful from the rest of the draws I did. Maybe the pulls I missed out on could have given me something good. But the fact that I just kept getting disappointed over and over again didn’t help in motivating me to log on to the game. Sigh. It’s too bad, but, eh, what can you do, right?

Notes:

pics are from Amazon.com; links shown above

screenshots are from my Final Fantasy Record Keeper Japanese game account