#if you want to take a brief period of time to help bring people to the voting booth that's cool too

[rustchild]

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[riricatria]

Hello, hello, first post!

The template is heavily inspired by @cinnamonest, I'm a big fan ┴┬┴┤◕‿◕｡)

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CONTENT WARNINGS INCLUDE: Dark content (dead dove), cisfem!Reader, verbal abuse, physical abuse (blood, bruises), one (1) bone breaking, the general psychological stuff that comes with yandere (obsession, possessiveness, imprisonment...), vague talk about depression, forced non-smechxual touching, NONCON, periods, brief anal, fingering, brief overstim, oral in both directions, rough boombayah, predator/prey dynamics.

Disclaimers can be found in my pinned post.

S-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 1. General look: How are they like? How do they behave around the darling? Are there any warning signs?

Mydei, Mydeimos, Son of Gorgo, the crown prince of Kremnos, Lil’ De, or the tall, handsome Chrysos Heir that only speaks rough words and puts a strange amount of effort into trying to best Phainon of Aedes Elysiae in whatever challenge they have made up that day. You don’t know him well. Very few people do, really.

He has a pretty face, a toned body, and a beautiful mane of hair that brings a large feline to mind. Very few people can truthfully say that he’s not an attractive guy. You’re not one of them, either: You have caught yourself eyeing the man a few times, just from afar. The gossip about him has reached your ears, they say that he’s actually a big softie (he sometimes plays with the children in his free time, they insist), but the aura he gives off is nothing but gruff. He doesn’t seem like the type to appreciate random people coming up to him to chat.

That, and you’ve gotten the picture that he isn’t particularly fond of your company. From how he looks at you in passing, it seems like he would rather be talking with the talking lion statue on the wall. He has a nasty habit of making his feelings known, too, you think. When you walk past him at the bathhouse, he might click his tongue in annoyance or fold his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. Subconsciously, you begin taking the longer route around, just to make sure you don’t bump into him.

But what’s going on in his mind is the complete opposite of what you have gathered. He can’t get his eyes off of you. Maybe you’re just a random citizen that has moved in Okhema, wandering around the city, or maybe you’re with the Astral Express, completely new to the planet. Whatever it is, the moment he lays his gaze on you, it’s downhill from there.

He tries to deny it at first. That what’s growing inside of him isn’t infatuation, it’s actually just him finding you incredibly irritating and annoying and a waste of space and beautiful and mesmerizing and cute and-… this is the point where the tongue-click usually happens.

In a way, it’s convenient that he himself acts as the warning sign, although in a very reverse way. You think he can’t stand you, so naturally, you distance yourself from him, which is exactly what he does not want, but he can’t really help himself. The ball is already rolling (and the hill is so steep that the ball is basically just falling by this point), and you can do very little to prevent the continuum of events from happening.

Mydei is a bit peculiar in the sense that he doesn’t even attempt to court you in regular ways. No nice words, no compliments, no flowers, not even a hello, nothing. His brain just goes from ”oh she’s pretty” to ”I need to have her immediately” in the span of, like, ten minutes. It doesn’t take much brainwork, although he tries his absolute hardest to turn the whole set-up on its head in his mind. He isn’t one to fall in love, probably truly hasn’t in all of his years, even, so while the feeling is new to him. Still, he’s in control in the sense that he won’t make any rushed decisions.

The downside is that the said decisions that he ultimately settles on are… questionable at the very least. He’s a warrior at heart and very much used to getting what he wants, when he wants it. And what he wants is you, nothing less, nothing more. He almost feels entitled to you, in a way. Look at all he has done, look how incredible and strong he is, he deserves you. You’re nobody compared to him, you don’t get a say in the matter.

But at the same time, he’s terrified of the sheer humanness of the sentiment. He equates the feelings to a show of weakness (hence he tries to twist them into actually hating you), and it gnaws on his sense of self. You’re an obstacle, but at the same time, you’re a need.

So, then he starts stalking you. Or not stalking, it’s more about seeing how you go on about your day, walking around the city to maybe see what you’re up to, discreetly tailing you when you make your way home (it’s definitely stalking you). You begin seeing him more often in random places like at the market or at the plaza. His eyes always find yours for a moment before he makes a brief, sour expression. You start wondering if the crown prince really is that big of an ass, if he really dedicates precious time from his schedule to searching you out just to express his distaste towards you face-to-face. It’s ridiculous, you think, but even then, it’s up to you if you decide to change up your routes just to avoid him. Not that it’ll help; soon enough, you’ll start bumping into him again.

Mydei knows he’s being weird, or at least that his behaviour appears strange to you. Still, he rationalizes it in, quite frankly, a ridiculous way. Yeah, what he’s doing is strange, but because he’s a powerful figure, a Chrysos Heir, the warrior of Okhema, whatever he’s doing is not strange. Because he’s so far above everyone else. Obviously this is within his rights.

Phainon and Tribbie are the only ones that may comment on his activities. Tribbie is encouraging in the way that she tries to get Mydei to actually, you know, try to get you to like him. She very carefully suggests that the reverse-psychology trick he’s got going on may not yield very good results, she tries to direct him down the correct path, only to be faced with little to no results. Phainon is more humorous about it, teases him, might even come chat to you about him if he’s feeling mischievous. You, of course, don’t believe a word he says, you think he’s just trying to lift your mood or protect your self-esteem from the constant dirty looks, so you just end up rolling your eyes and telling him to tell Mydei to leave you alone. You would say it to the crown prince directly if it weren’t for the immediate public humiliation you would face, you reason.

However, in the end, it is Phainon that ends up being the catalyst and airing a proposal to Mydei which ultimately seals your fate. The two of them are chatting idly, maybe in the middle of their rivalry again, and Phainon speaks out a cheeky remark: ”Maybe you should just grab her for yourself if she’s that big of a deal to you”. Mydei is about to snap right back with a bicker, but when the sentence registers in his brain, he comes to think. Wait, what if…?

Surely, it would be alright. He’s the crown prince of Kremnos, a Chrysos Heir, he’s THE Mydeimos. Would it be that immoral of him to want something like that? Surely he has done enough for the city and its people to deserve this one thing? Surely he has suffered enough? And so, the final nail is hammered into your coffin.

˗ˏˋ ★ 2. Securing: How will they abduct their darling? When, where and how?

It’s quick, it’s sudden, it’s very vaguely thought-out, it’s rough.

The reason why the plan isn’t very calculated or meticulous is because he himself doesn’t see a need for it to be that way. It works, and that’s all that matters to him. There isn’t even any impulsivity to it, either, he just decides the day and time and goes with it.

He takes you from your own residence, likely in the city. The Okheman architecture is convenient in the way that the windows are wide open, and he uses that to his advantage. It’s late into the night, and he’s standing at the base of your apartment, looking up at what he knows is your bedroom window. It’s quite high up, but a leap of a dozen meters is nothing to his honed, immortal body.

You’re in your bed. The night is hot, and you’re wearing nothing but your sleeping attire. You have moved the blanket to the side, baring yourself to his scrutiny. You’re fast asleep.

It’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to just reach down and grab your body. It even takes you a moment to wake up from your slumber, to try to comprehend the situation you’re in, but by the time you actually open your eyes, there’s a gauntleted hand over your mouth and a rock-solid arm wrapped around your upper body.

You recognize the attacker. He sees your eyes widen, the way reality sinks in your mind. The terror is nearly tangible.

You think he’s going to kill you. That Mydeimos, the Chrysos Heir is actually going to murder you in your own home. His hand over your face prevents you from screaming out, and the arm is, with so little effort, restricting any and all movement. It’s petrifying, the way your life flashes before your eyes, your mind goes to the image of your friends finding your bloody corpse by the bed. How your loved ones will stand by your grave, mourning your destiny without possibly ever getting to know what happened to you.

But then, Mydei just tells you to shut up before hauling your body around and hoisting it up like you weigh nothing. And to him, you don’t. With one hand still on your mouth and the other holding you up and against him, he flees the room through the window and starts making his way to the ruins of Castrum Kremnos.

The trip to the castle is not a quick one. Even with his impressive speed, it takes a good while for you to reach the premises. That, and he’s sprinting with you in his arms. It wouldn’t even be an effort if it wasn’t for the way you’re trying to flail around, trying to punch him, squirm out of his grasp, make as much noise as possible. It almost makes him want to give your head a good bonk so you would go quiet. But he doesn’t. And soon enough, you reach his home city.

The plan being very vague includes that he doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to do with you once he reaches the place. You need a spot to stay, obviously, somewhere the titankin can’t reach you, where you can’t escape from, where you can comfortably stay for the better part of your day. That, at least for the time being, ends up being a small, dark room on one of the high towers of the castle. There’s not a lot of space, no furniture, only rubble and dust with a single, small opening in the wall where the light pools in from. The view is frankly depressing, even to his eyes.

After the crescent moon shaped lock clicks shut behind him, he finally sets you down and removes his hands from your body. The moment your feet hit the ground, you’re scrambling away until your back hits the opposite wall, creating as much space between you and him as you’re able. You point a finger up at him, eyes wide and a couple of tears spilling past your lashes, and you immediately start spitting profanities and questions at him, screaming your lungs out, threatening to tell the other Heirs. The act isn’t very convincing to him, though; he can see the way your knees buckle and your arms shake, the way your eyes dart around the room.

And he’s so nonchalant about it that you nearly explode. After haunting you for weeks on end, he has decided to, what, ”take you for himself”? You’re livid just as much as you’re terrified, but that does very little to wound his pride. He simply folds his arms and answers your questions with little to no compassion, stating things as matter-of-fact rather than even trying to console you.

Though, he does understand your concerns. He doubts anybody would find the experience of being kidnapped very pleasant. Then, you start yelling him about more trivial matters like ”where the fuck do you expect me to sleep here?!” and ”what the hell will I eat?”. These are the things that he hasn’t yet had time to arrange, and the points are valid in that sense. He himself doesn’t like sleeping on cold, hard ground, either. He should find you a mattress, he thinks, though he doubts there are any just lying around in the ruins.

Then you start complaining that it’s cold in there, and you’re only in your pyjamas, that everything is bad, horrible. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, raising his voice and telling you that you’ll sleep with him for tonight and that he’ll get you a bed tomorrow.

Your jaw hangs open at the sheer audacity of this man, but ultimately, you can’t do much when he walks to you in a few, long strides, grabs your body like a sack of flour, rests down by the wall and settles you in his lap. Obviously, you don’t just give up and go to sleep right away. Instead, you attempt to throw punches at him, kicking him to the best of your ability, trying to squirm out of his iron grip. It’s kind of funny to him, actually, and he makes it known by straight up laughing at your face. You can either go to sleep or fight him until the morning if you’d like, it won’t change anything, he scoffs at you. And, after struggling an hour or two, you go slack in his hold.

˗ˏˋ ★ 3. Life: What is it like to live with them? How do they treat the darling?

It’s less than ideal at first. Considering the factor that you don’t have all the comforts of your previous home like, eh, a bed, the first few days are especially rough. You’re alone for a good portion of your day, locked away in a small room with practically nothing to do. Your only source of light is the small window, and even with it, you’re mostly encased in dimness. The door is firmly locked, and the window is so small in size that your shoulders and you don’t think your hips would squeeze through it even if you tried. You contemplate on finding out for yourself, but for now, you don’t, since you have bigger things to worry about, such as making sure you don’t die of thirst while he’s away.

Conveniently, the moon symbol on the lock starts spinning just as you start worrying, the door opens. Mydei steps into the room and tells you to get up. When you fail to immediately comply, he walks over to you and grabs you by the arm. You protest, telling him that you’re able to walk on your own two feet, but it isn’t until you voluntarily take proper steps without dragging that he lets you not be carried.

He takes you to a different part of the castle. It’s much cleaner, there’s less rubble, less dust here. He leads you past the hallways and to a larger door embedded in the wall. Behind it, you find a more spacious, furnished room. There’s a sizable, plush bed, there’s a shelf, there’s a door to what you assume is the bathroom, a desk, a chair. He leads you in with a firm hand on your upper back. There’s a large window on the east wall, one you could easily fit through. You make a mental note of it.

Everything you need is in the room. There’s even a bowl of pomegranates on the desk. It takes a moment for the puzzle pieces to click together in your brain. Albeit expressionless, Mydei’s eyes keenly observe your reaction from the way your brows knit together to how you look around the room in confusion. And then you start lashing out again, telling him how there’s ”no fucking way that you're gonna live in some monster-filled ruins with zero social contacts and activities”. Huh, activities? Oh, of course. You need something to entertain yourself with when he’s away on his business and whatnot. In a dismissive voice, he promises to do something about it tomorrow, but for tonight, the two of you are sleeping in your brand new bed (he holds you while you writhe and scratch at him).

In the following day, as he promised, he gets you something to busy yourself with. He’ll visit the market or the Grove to get you a book or two. He’ll go around the city and get you some snacks. Mydei would be lying through his teeth if he said that he knows exactly what you like, but the idea is still there. Besides, if the stuff doesn’t suit your preferences, he can just bring you more.

It takes a few days for you to warm up to the idea of accepting his gifts. After hours and hours on end of sitting around doing nothing but sleeping and staring at the ceiling, you finally pick up the book he brought you. It’s not particularly interesting; just some tales about the Titans and such, but opposed to spending even one more minute in complete boredom, you would much rather have this.

Mydei also takes you outside regularly. Some days he’s not able to spend too much time with you during the day, but even then, he knows the importance of sunlight exposure and fresh air. So, the two of you may walk around the ruins for a bit, he takes you to different parts of the castle at first. Then, if you don’t show too much resistance, he might start taking you back to Okhema, albeit on very limited terms. It’s only in hidden areas, mostly those where only the Heirs are allowed to enter. You’re strictly prohibited from talking to anyone, too, and if you do, you’ll never see the city again, he threatens. You mostly get to wander around a bit — under his watchful eye, of course. You even get to talk to Phainon a few times since Mydei seems to trust him enough to have you around him.

Furthermore, Mydei attempts to make it so that you’ll get to bathe in the bathhouse once a day, or at least every two days. Oftentimes, that ends up being the highlight of your nights. He rarely demands anything from you during those times, so you’ll get to have some peace for yourself.

In contrast, moments you dread the most are those when he’s actually forcing you to spend time with him. If he doesn’t have anything better to do (and you’re considerably high up on his list of priorities), he might just sit around in your room and stare at you until you give him attention. Attention meaning that you’ll talk to him, and even then he’ll pretend to be somewhat uninterested just to save face. You don’t know if he does it on purpose or if that’s really how dense he is, but the only way to eventually get him to leave you alone is to entertain him. What a prick. He would love to hold you, too, if you’d just let him. And he might do it even if you’re less than willing.

Your life falls into a cycle of sorts. You wake up with Mydei (typically encased in his arms), he gets you food, he leaves for his business for a few hours, you stay in your room, he comes back, you spend time with him, he might take you outside, night rolls around, you get to go to the baths, you come back, you go to sleep, encased in his arms, naturally.

If you’re lucky, he might even move you back to Okhema a few months into your captivity. This is only if you’ve been on your best behaviour, though. And if you attempt an escape, you’ll go right back to square one.

˗ˏˋ ★ 4. Rules: What kind of rules do they enforce? How lenient are they? How do they keep their darling in check?

He doesn’t actually have a thought-out set of rules for the darling. He expects you to have common sense, to understand unspoken expectations. It’s mostly just things like ”don’t escape” and ”don’t break stuff” and ”do what I say”. He never speaks these things out loud, but they have become quite clear to you. If you do something that displeases him, he lets you know in non-verbal ways like roughly grabbing you by the arm.

Other than the basics, he doesn’t really care what you do when you’re in your own room since there’s nothing much that could cause harm to you (or him) there. Mydei, if anybody, knows that it’s important not to restrict a person too much if you want them to remain happy, so he doesn’t intervene with your me-time too much. He won’t let you roam around, though — not without him, anyway. You’re going to stay locked up in your room.

If you’ve proven to be untrustworthy (an escape attempt, trying to hurt him, that sort of thing), he’ll keep you chained to the bed by one of your ankles with a heavy leg iron. If you’re actively trying to hurt yourself, he might shackle your hands to the bedposts, too. He won’t let you out of your bindings until you’ve been compliant for a good amount of time.

Aside from the physical restrictions, his presence alone is enough to keep you on good behaviour most of the time. You’re much too scared to attempt anything under his watchful eye, and he’s very aware of this himself. Most of the time, he utilizes the effect he has on you, to keep you in check. Though, at times, he thinks it would be nice if you just remained pliant by your own volition. Frightening you is somewhat counter-intuitive if his goal is to get you to like him, after all.

˗ˏˋ ★ 5. Consequences: What kind of punishments will the darling face? How do they punish different offences?

Oh, it’s not pretty. As stated, Mydei (in the eye of the public, anyway) isn’t known to be a very gentle person, and that translates to how he will deal with a disobedient darling. He’s quite an irritable man in general, so even the mildest offences can earn a disproportionately violent reaction from him.

Mydei has got a sharp tongue. He isn’t a man of many words, but at the same time, he most definitely isn’t one to spare any of them if need be. That being said, his most likely response to the smallest misdemeanours is a few harsh words. It doesn’t even need to be an actual offence, really. It can be things such as accidentally dropping a plate on the floor, or even something like making an expression that didn’t appease him at the moment. He will comment on it, berating you in that aggressive yet indifferent tone of his. He calls you things like ”insolent thing”, ”weak fool” or ”puny woman” and follows them with an insult directed at whatever you did wrong.

Note that scolding is the mildest possible consequence you can receive, and it, too, is heavily dependent on his mood. If he’s having a particularly bad day, even something as miniscule as you stumbling on something could be enough to have him grab you by the shoulder and throw you right back into your room.

The mildest of wrongdoings aside, the punishment for deliberate acts of disobedience is almost always physical. He’s incredibly strong, so even if he doesn’t actually mean to hurt you, the way he manhandles you is usually painful enough to get the point across. Talking back at him, rejecting his touches, refusing to eat out of spite, such things commonly earn you pain in one form or another. If he’s feeling merciful, he may just yank you by your arm and have his gauntlet dig into your skin as he verbally degrades you. If his mood is less than ideal, he might even grab you by the hair and push you to the ground, lightly (although it doesn’t feel like that to you) dig his heel into your side until you get the point. And usually, by then, you’ve swallowed whatever spite you had.

Mydei isn’t one to be psychologically cruel about his methods of punishment. The most deliberate mental torment you might face with him is being locked in your room for a few hours, and, if he’s being completely truthful, that’s more for him than you, as well. Not having you in his immediate vicinity gives him a chance to cool down and rethink what is a suitable consequence for you — this way he doesn’t cave in to his first instinct which is to physically hurt you.

Your privileges may very well get revoked if you misbehave. If you continuously spit back at him or show defiance in other ways, he might just take your means of entertainment away. Oh, you pulled away when he tried to embrace you? That book he had got you a few days ago will be locked away for the day. You yelled at him (after he called you weak and incapable)? He’s not going to take you for a walk today, you’re just going to have to spend time with him inside. See how it feels.

When it comes to the most serious of offences, though, that’s when his worst sides come out. His response is very in-the-moment, rough, and uncontrolled. He has a hard time keeping his own strength in check at these times.

Most likely into the early weeks of your captivity, you’ll get a first taste of how Mydei is when he’s really mad. You’re about to commit your first escape attempt, you’re going to try to flee the ruins he has trapped you in. It’s not much, but you’ve prepared yourself a make-shift dagger (to stab him if need be and to defend yourself from the titankin roaming the place), and you’re pretty sure that you can make the jump off the balcony and to the building on the other side.

It’s one of those days when he goes out to Okhema — Chrysos Heir business or something, you’re not really sure and asking him about it has proven mostly futile — and you’re good to go. He naively trusts you to have enough common sense not to try to leap into your death via the open window, and the time to take advantage of that has come.

You make the jump, only barely managing to cling onto the window sill and succeeding in pulling yourself into safety. This room is not locked, and you’re able to make your way down the staircase and out of the building.

The ruins are difficult to navigate, there’s rubble everywhere, there are strange mechanisms that you’re unable to operate, and most horrifyingly, the monsters are everywhere. You’re scared, terrified, running for your life through the collapsing bridges and twisting hallways. However, with your objective in mind, you gather your strength and wander further.

It’s obvious, it should’ve been obvious to you as well, but you were never destined to make it far. Not even fifteen minutes into your stunt, blood-curdling, other-wordly shrieks and the sound of creatures twice your size being thrown into walls catches up with you. By this point, you know it’s over, but despite the inevitable, you still continue sprinting for the remaining twenty seconds you have left until a hand finds your shoulder.

You’re jerked backwards in a movement so violent that it throws you straight onto the ground. Then, in a blink of an eye, Mydei’s armoured fingers dig into your scalp, grabbing a fistful of hair before he pulls your head off the floor. He doesn’t utter a word, and you make the mistake of straining your neck to take a look at his face.

His nostrils are flared, his eyes are blown wide, and he’s panting out in rapid, deep breaths as if he’s holding onto the last ounces of self-restraint he has. He silently glares you in the eye for a good few seconds before he mushes your face against the floor. You can screech and cry out your desperation, you can try and beg him to stop, but that won’t deter him from pressing your cheek against the marble until you’re sure there’s a bruise forming on the side of your head. At this point, he will begin spouting profanities and insults at you, first hissing and growling before it builds up to full-blown yelling. Some of it is berating you for putting yourself in mortal danger, but a good part of it is just shouting at you for the sake of it. He exercises his status that way. It’s loud and guttural, and it would get the point across even without the words.

After a long while, he will yank your now limp body off the ground and throw it over his shoulder. If you decide that you still have one in you at this point, he just might throw you on the ground like a ragdoll and actually step on you. It would be the wisest to just accept your fate at this point.

The scariest part, however, comes when you’re back at where he keeps you. He reaches your room, and as the door slides shut behind him, he drops you down without care and with so much force that you don’t even get a chance to find solid footing. You fall onto the floor butt first, but before you can even try to scramble back up, his fingers are wrapped around your wrist.

There’s still that same, frenzied look in his eyes when his hold tightens, the metal claws pierce your skin. You can howl in pain all you want, you can try to thrash around. His grip won’t loosen, even when he yanks you up from the floor and grabs you by the head with his free hand. He resumes hissing curses at you while he practically dangles you in the air. His hold just becomes firmer, he presses harder, his fingers burrow deeper. Your cries grow louder, more panicked, as the pressure becomes unbearable, something is going to break, something is going to-

And then, he hears the sickening, distinct crack of a bone snapping. The sound is immediately accompanied by an animalistic shriek so loud that he can’t believe it’s from your mouth. He lets go of your body, and you drop to the ground on your knees. You wail in pain, eyes saucer-wide with terror as you clutch on your wrist with a wildly trembling hand. His eyes fixate on the purple splotch that’s now forming under your skin.

Your howls of pain don’t stop, even as your breathing becomes so laboured that you can barely get a coherent sound out. Your gaze flicks from your wrist to him, to the door, at his face, back at your wrist, back at him, all the while you rock your shaking body back and forth in your delirium. Fat tears spill down your cheeks, and a line of snot streams over your upper lip as you screech out unintelligible sounds. You’re gasping for air like you’re drowning, you’re wheezing hysterically, the colour is draining from your face.

It hurts so bad. You’re not sure which bone it is, maybe it’s one of the long ones on your forearm, maybe it’s one the hand’s side, but all you know is that it feels like your wrist has been lit on fire. You didn’t think he could do this to you, you didn’t believe he would ever go this far. And neither did he, truthfully.

Mydei has no idea what to do. He vaguely understands that he has crossed the line, he comprehends what has happened, but the red-hot rage is still fogging his judgment and blinding his vision. His gaze flickers from your quivering hand to your terror-struck expression, to his own hand still half-extended, back at your form, back at his hand.

He takes a step towards you. You let out a scream that could surely be heard by the titankin outside if he hadn’t just eradicated a good half of them. He gets closer, and you wildly kick your legs, completely uncoordinated, to either try to create distance in between you and him or pathetically attempt to defend yourself from him.

Either way, all his fury-clouded mind can think of doing is crouching down to your level, grabbing your head and covering your mouth and nose. Naturally, you only wail and flail harder in response, but he keeps his palm slotted against your airways. You can’t breathe. He repeatedly yells at you to calm down, but his tone of voice is doing nothing to further the cause. It’s only when you’re sure that you’re going to pass out that he lets go of your face. After you go right back to hyperventilating, he slaps his hand back down. It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s terrifying, it’s violent. The cycle repeats until you lie limp in his arms, eyes unfocused, legs twitching, drool staining the side of your mouth. You don’t remember much after that point.

The aftermath is just as rough. It’s only after a few hours that you’ve calmed down enough to be able to assess your own situation. Mydei has left you alone in your room, one leg chained to the bed, to go ”calm down” but judging from the noise from outside, he’s doing anything but that. At this point, you’re much too tired to even try to grasp the reality aside from the apparent bruise swelling around your entire wrist, or to even entertain the thought of another escape plan.

You don’t talk about it afterwards. He doesn’t seem to care, obviously he doesn’t apologize, he never really does. He makes an attempt to nurse the appendage, wrap something around it, put a splint on it. If it’s really bad, he may even bring you to Hyacine (and stare a hole through the back of her head the entire time she works) and let her heal you. After that, the circumstances return back to what he would call normal, but you swear you can sometimes see him flinch when your shoulder or knee pops.

˗ˏˋ ★ 6. Emotions I: How do they show love? How do they attempt to make the darling love them?

Mydei is a… difficult person in this sense. His only ever verbal show of emotion seems to be that of annoyance. It’s the huffs, the way he clicks his tongue, the aggressive stance, and then the words. You can’t recall many times you’ve seen him smile. Still, despite his harsh tongue and tough shell, deep in his heart, he still wants his darling to love him. So, he does his best to show love through actions rather than words.

During the first few days of your captivity, he doesn’t really touch you aside from when he has to move you or carry you. However, further in, you find his hands wandering on you more and more often. It starts with little touches on the shoulders and arms, more to grab your attention than anything, but then it evolves to touching your hair, your hands, your lower back, your sides. He never gives you a warning before he subtly closes the distance between the two of you, he doesn’t speak a word when the palms of his hands caress down your arms, making their way to your hands, back up your shoulders, over to your hair where he picks out a strand and twirls it between his fingers. Moments like these are extremely vulnerable to him, so if you decide to open your mouth during them, be prepared for a prickly response.

As he feels you under his fingertips, he’s hit with the realization of how frail you truly are. He becomes aware of how easy it would be for him to snap your femur clean in half with a single hand, how tiny your hands are compared to his, how little force he would have to use to shatter your skull. The thought terrifies him, only gives more fuel to the instinct to keep you locked away from the world.

He ends up making his way behind you and has you pause whatever it is that you’re busy with. You perk up as you feel the metal on the back of his gauntlets slowly trail down your back, making out the curve of your spine under your clothing, feeling your warmth. It’s the only way he can rid himself of these thoughts.

He also loves to do mundane things like cook for you. He surprisingly takes pride in his culinary skills, so preparing food for you is one of the most intimate things he will do. Furthermore, if you show a positive response when he brings you a plate of a home-cooked version of whatever food you had once mentioned that you liked, he will remain in exceptionally good spirits for the rest of the day. Beware that if you refuse the gesture, he might not do it again for a considerable amount of time.

Mydei occasionally brings you little trinkets and such from whenever he visits Okhema. They’re little things like flowers or jewellery, maybe even more stuff to entertain yourself with like literature or painting supplies. If you ask him about the habit, his response is always a defensive huff and something along the lines of ”I’ll take them back if you don’t want them”, but when you hastily shake your head and tell him that you like them, his shoulders visibly relax. If you’re feeling daring, you could ask him for a specific item, and if he’s in a pleasant mood, the request may even be fulfilled. Given that you’ve been good, that is.

Though he enjoys all the aforementioned things, if there’s one thing he really, truly loves, it’s bathing with you. Even though it’s basically a daily thing, it’s something that makes his heart swell up with contentment.

It’s only really late into the evening, only when everybody else has left the Hero’s Bath, when he brings you out into some small, remote corner of the bathhouse and plants your butt in the pleasantly warm water. He never speaks a word when he does so, only strips himself of his clothes (save for a towel around his hips) and sits right beside you, arms folded and thighs spread. It’s surprisingly serene in his company in these moments: he rests still in the bath, head tilted backwards, eyes closed. You can’t say you’re exactly relaxed yourself, the bathing suit you insisted on him giving you is a bit too loose around certain areas to your taste, but the hot, steaming air does manage to calm your nerves, even if only a little.

And then he opens his eyes, lets out a huff like he’s displeased, and turns to you. His ungloved fingers wrap around your upper arm, and he mutters out a ”come here” before dragging your body over to his lap. You don’t even have time to protest before the rough pads of his fingers slide your shoulder straps down, baring your upper body to him. If you start complaining, he might snarl at your struggling, saying that ”he can only see your back anyway” before telling you to stay still. And you do.

He reaches for a basket by the edge of the bath and grabs a bottle of some ointment, maybe soap, you’re not really sure. He pops the container open, and soon you feel his hand smearing the substance all over your shoulders and back. He isn’t particularly soft with the motions, no, but it’s gentle for his standards. His palms glide along your skin, sometimes pressing a bit firmer, effectively lulling you into a state of at least moderate tranquillity. Then he rinses your skin before picking out another bottle, and the actions repeat. It’s best if you stay silent; He might just dip your face in the water if you don’t keep your comments to yourself.

Oh, and if you’re in your manipulation era and you’re up for gaining some leniency from him, he will absolutely melt if you offer to do the same for him. He may even refuse the first couple of times, not believing that you’d actually want to do that, but keep insisting, and he will cave in. And, not that he would tell you, but it’s one of the most euphoric experiences in his long lifetime.

˗ˏˋ ★ 7. Emotions II: How do they deal with the darling’s emotions? How are outbursts handled? How do they attempt to comfort the darling?

Much like with how he shows love, dealing with the darling’s own feelings is less about words and more about actions. His words might even make the situation worse, he has noticed. You tend to flinch at his voice, no matter what it is that comes out of his mouth. It’s especially when you’re in a sorry state, either angry or depressed, that you seem unable to be comforted verbally.

If you lash out at him, his go-to is just throwing you back in your room for a cooldown. There’s nothing much to break there, you can throw your blanket around at most, you can bang on the door, you can scream. It’ll tire you out, too, and you have a habit of falling asleep after the flame has burned out, he has noticed.

Or, if you’re being an active risk to yourself (and him, though you could never actually do more than graze his skin), he might resort to holding you down or against him until you calm down. This method is less of a punishment and more of a necessary effort, despite you being sore after as his grip is quite tight. The most words you’ll get out of him during these moments is him telling you to cut it out and calm down in his gruff tone.

When it comes to a teary and sorrowful darling, he tends to take a softer approach. In such moments, you don’t really pose a physical threat anyway, so restricting you would be of no use. You don’t really come to him when you’re sad, believing that having him around would only bring you down further, but he himself is inclined to seek you out. It’s a protective instinct, he reassures himself, because your form appears even weaker than usual then. Not because he’s worried about you or anything.

Mydei has a hard time accepting the fact, and he would never say it out loud, but deep inside, he’s a gentle soul. That’s why seeing you in both physical and (especially) mental pain brings him great anguish.

Still, in spite of that, if he were to find you balled up in your room, quietly sobbing with your face buried against your knees, his first impulse is not trying to soothe you. For a good while, he can only stand a short distance away from you, gazing down at you with an unreadable expression. He observes the situation silently, and if it looks like you have no intention of trying to bash his skull in, he will come closer. He will take you up into his arms before sitting down on the bed with you in his lap. Usually, you’re in no state to refuse his affections at this point, so you just rest your face against his broad chest and sniffle. If he senses that you’re particularly receptive, he might stroke his hand up and down your head and back.

He only stops when you fall asleep in his hold (and it’s the only way to get him to stop, so if you want him gone, you can pretend to sleep). He will set you on the mattress with uncharacteristic tenderness, tuck you in and leave for a little while. If you ask him about his conduct later, his reaction is defensive, he’s obviously a bit flustered about it, but he will repeat the same pattern nonetheless if the situation demands it.

One of the few good things that can come out of you being miserable for days on end is that he might come home one day with a special gift to you. He mutters something along the lines of ”I’ll take it back if you don’t take care of it”, and sets a decently sized, fabric-clad box in your lap. You look at him with your fatigued eyes, then at the item, then back at him… until the thing moves. Mydei doesn’t make an effort to exit the room, only looking down at you, expressionless, so you decide to go ahead and see what the package contains.

The cover slides off what you come to see is a small cage. Your mouth falls ajar as you see what he has got you: Inside the bars rests a small, orange chimera. The animal looks up at you with its huge, round eyes, tilting its disproportionately large head to the side, wagging its little tail.

Mydei swears that, for the first time in what feels like forever, he sees a tinge of curiosity in your dull gaze as you observe the creature in your lap. With trembling hands, you bring your fingers to the latch and open it. The chimera immediately flees the containment, leaping down from your thighs and proceeding to run circles around the room while panting excitedly. Mydei watches as your gaze follows the thing, your expression conveying nothing short of awe. He wants to burn this image to his retinas, to savour the look of wonder on your face. Even if it’s only for now.

˗ˏˋ ★ 8. Thing to exploit: What are the darling’s best chances at escaping? Are there things the darling can use to their advantage? How can the darling make things easier for themselves?

Your best bet at fleeing is Tribbie. It’s not Phainon, it’s not Castorice, it’s not Aglaea, it’s Tribbie.

On your own, you won’t make it further than a few hundred meters away from your room before Mydei catches up to you and brings you back flailing. The ruins are much too difficult to traverse, and besides, he knows the layout like the back of his hand, and he’s almost never gone long enough for you to attempt an actual escape that way. So, your only bet is to get yourself a helping hand.

Castorice will turn a blind eye to your suffering. She knows that Mydei is hiding someone in the ruins, and maybe she would like to help, but she ultimately decides that maybe it’s for the best not to intervene. She values peace over it. Aglaea will not care. It may even be beneficial for the Kremnoan warrior to have something to take his aggression out on, she thinks.

You think that Phainon is the most likely to help you — you might even meet him a couple of times when he finds his way to Castrum Kremnos — but he’s actually the worst of the bunch. He may very well have his own darling back at Okhema at this point, too.

You get the chance to talk to Phainon alone for a minute when Mydei goes to fetch something. Even knowing that your time frame is very limited, you don’t hesitate to immediately drop to your knees in front of him and start begging for him to help you escape. However, he only gives you a sympathetic smile in response. For a moment, you think that he’s actually going to aid you, but then he places his hand on the crown of your head and ruffles your hair. ”He can be rough sometimes, I know”, he laughs softly. Your heart sinks.

But Tribbie will, no doubt, take enough pity on you to consider helping you. The only issue is that you and her may never come into contact with each other. Tribbie has little to no business in the ruined city, and it may very well be that she doesn’t even really know about your situation. However, if you somehow manage to catch her attention and tell her about your circumstances, she may offer to send you away. Maybe it’s unlocking the route for you, maybe she even uses the Century Gate to get you out, but after that, you’re on your own. And, it doesn’t need to be mentioned that the crown prince will hunt you down to the ends of the planet if need be. You should know that he won’t fail that mission, either.

So, if you want to truly regain your freedom, you need to leave Amphoreus altogether. In this regard, your best chance is the Astral Express. Find them, drop to their feet, pray for them to help, and maybe they’ll extend their aid to you. If the Express is not around —well, good luck.

Escaping aside, there is one simple thing to exploit if you want your life to be easier. That is to just be nice and loving to him. Mydei would like to call himself a perceptive person, he wants to say that he sees through your little tricks, but if you show him the slightest bit of affection, he will melt. Touch his bare arm, say a nice thing or two, search out his company, and his fierce exterior will turn to mush. It has to be consistent, though: the first few times he might even brush you off, thinking that you’re just trying to manipulate him (which is exactly what you’re trying to do), but keep it coming, and he will cave in. This will bring you more privileges like time outside, more things to entertain yourself with, and he might even let you meet the other Heirs on a more regular basis if you’ve been compliant enough.

On the top of the list of stuff you should not do is talking about his parents. He will start tweaking, and the consequences of that are never pleasant. You find out quickly that his past is something that’s usually risky to bring up in any context. Very few things can wound his pride, but you are special in that sense because just about anything you say might be a blow to his ego in one way or another. It’s a 50/50 whether that brings you closer to your objective or if it makes him chain your ankle to the bed again.

˗ˏˋ ★ 9. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes? What unique qualities do they possess?

”There’s no word for ’flee’ in the Kremnoan language”, ”there’s no word for ’fear’ in the Kremnoan language”, ”there’s no word for ’betrayal’ in the Kremnoan language”, yada-yada-yada. Are there any fucking words in this fuckass language, you start to wonder.

Well, the words the language does seem to have are all battle, all insult, all challenge. He is a warrior at heart, of course, and that does bleed into your life with him. Especially if you’re a particularly feisty type of a darling, be prepared to fight for your privileges, literally.

It may start as something simple like you asking for help picking up a book, one that you can’t reach, it’s too high up on the shelf. He says that ”okay, sure, he’ll get it for you”, but then as he picks it out for you, he holds it over your head, just out of your reach. He dangles it right there, and you can see the way the corners of his mouth are tugging up in amusement. So, you jump and try to grab the item. He pulls it higher. You try to jump again, he dodges. If there’s one thing he’s really talented at, it’s riling you up in the worst of ways.

He won’t give you the damn book, not until you have basically climbed up his body and grabbed the stupid thing with your legs wrapped around his torso. And during your attempt, he spews out snarky comments like ”you think you’re so strong, then prove it” and ”you can’t even touch it. Pathetic”, and it makes you so livid that eventually there are red marks on his skin from you trying to claw at his bare bicep. Insufferable fuck. He even drops the ”HKS”-bomb on you. Irreparable damage.

On a completely different note, on the gentler side of things, you come to find that Mydei is completely unable to initiate any physical affection through words. There’s no come here, no hey, let me, and most certainly no may I. If he’s craving your touch, his method of going on about it is just… taking it. You may be doing something completely unrelated, maybe reading your book, maybe stretching, maybe eating, and he just comes behind you and grabs you by the waist. He just pulls you away from your activity, your back against his chest, hoists you up into the air. He walks to the bed or couch or even the floor with you in his arms before settling down in a comfortable position. He buries his nose in your hair and closes his eyes. Beware that you’ll be staying in that position for a while, so get cosy.

He strokes up and down your arms, he might play with your hair, trace the lines on your hand, rub your feet, all the while he remains completely silent. If you take a look at his face, you’ll come to find that he doesn’t look like he’s really enjoying himself, even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. It’s another one of the times where you really should not open your mouth if you value your peace.

It’s much too embarrassing, much too vulnerable to verbally ask for your touch, he seems to think. He can’t let you know that his clarity of mind depends on these instances, even though it’s so painfully obvious that you want to tear chunks of his beautiful, blond hair off. However, on the brighter side, you should know that he’s going to be in a good mood after these sessions, so if there’s something you’re planning to request from him, cuddling him is a good start.

Out of all of his quirks, perhaps the most intriguing one is that Mydei has a very strange way of viewing you in general. You, as in your existence and being. On one hand, he sees you as frail, fragile, completely on the mercy of others and incapable of defending yourself. Then, on the other, he knows you’re a strong personality, you don’t give up easily, and that makes him want to test your limits in both mind and body. It gives him a kind of a thrill to hold that power over you.

The latter manifests in the bickering and insults, the physical strain he makes you go through to get what you want, what you need from him. He may even go as far as taking you outside, pointing at a random (very tall) boulder and going ”if you can climb on top of that, I’m going to take you to Okhema tomorrow”. You take the bait both out of spite and just, well, desperation. And you obviously don’t make it higher than a meter or two. He laughs at your unsuccessful attempts to scramble up the uneven surface, he lets you try for as long as you’d like, and unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take that long for you to tire yourself out. After you’re left sprawled on the ground, all sweaty and chest heaving, he will simply pick you up with a mocking chuckle before taking you back inside. All the while he walks about how weak you are. Fuck his ass.

An unexpected consequence of these ”trials” is that you notice improvements in your physical abilities. You don’t tire out nearly as quickly as before, you’re stronger, you can run farther. It’s a plus, sure, but you still haven’t managed to complete any of the challenges he has presented you with, and you doubt you ever will because the difficulty has only gone up.

In contrast, the times he will treat you like you could crumble into dust in his hands are when you’re in actual pain, either physical or mental. More often than not, both are a result of his own actions (which he doesn’t know how to feel about). He would like to state the opposite, but it seems that he’s really not in control of his own strength or words when he loses his cool, and it’s especially obvious when you’ve been ”acting up”.

In the aftermath of the times he has crossed the line, he tends to go quiet, gathering your trembling form in his arms and moving you over to a better spot. It’s in these moments that he expresses regret in his actions (non-verbally, obviously), stroking your hair with his hand, pressing your ear against his chest to listen to his elevated heartbeat. It almost makes you feel like a pet, in a way, it’s kind of dehumanizing how quickly he can go from angry and brutish to caring and serene. And, he tends to be a little more soft with you in the following couple of days.

One more thing, Mydei would absolutely love to braid your hair for you. He has the situation completely envisioned in his mind: You’re sitting between his thighs, back facing his chest, and he’s tenderly holding locks of your hair in between fingers. His hands brush through the strands, meticulous and careful, weaving the portions together into several plaits, making you look like a noble Kremnoan maiden. He hasn’t yet had the courage to suggest it.

Oh, and he would probably ascend right then and there if he got you to wear the same hairstyle as him, the singular braid that rests on one of his shoulders. The two of you could match, but even the thought of that is so intimate to him that he has to actually shake his head to rid himself of the image before the blush reveals his thoughts to you.

NS-FW

˗ˏˋ ★ 10. General look: How does their sexuality manifest? What does sex mean to them? How horny are they?

Mydei’s entire form is all aggression, all muscle, all testosterone, very little chill (except for the arguably cotton-soft core). It’s not a surprise that it all carries to the sexual aspects as well. He would never admit it out loud, but for the lack of a better term, he’s an extremely horny individual. He’s all hot, all go-go-go, and on some days, his drive is through the roof.

In the first few weeks of having you around, he doesn’t even entertain the idea of touching you beyond what is strictly necessary to keep you in check and to prevent himself from going insane. However, after a while, his eyes start to wander. He’s always been aware of it, but damn, you have a very nice figure. It’s a shame that you prefer to wear loose, flowing fabrics. The dip of your waist, the curve of your chest, your thighs… He finds himself thinking of how easy exactly it would be to just pick you up, throw you to the bed and have his way with you. From your point of view, the guy is standing a few meters away from you, hands folded, back straight, and his pants straining at his crotch. You don’t know whether to laugh, scrunch your face up in disdain, or be utterly terrified at the insinuation.

He turns to the help of his own hand a lot during this period. He can’t get the image of you out of his head, and Aeons forbid, when he gets to see your bare back in the baths. He beats it to that, almost being able to recall how your skin felt under his fingers, how warm it was, how warm other areas of you would be. He sees it in his mind, how you look under him, how your face is contorts in pleasure, how your-, aaand he shoots his load in his hand.

Your presence only manages to make him twice as horny as usual. He won’t talk about it, of course he won’t, but you do see him subtly adjust his trousers every once in a while. He doesn’t have any mental restrictions about sex in normal circumstances, he occasionally even participates in raunchy talk with people like Phainon, but it has proved to be a bit more arduous to control his urges when the reason for them is sitting at a touching distance away from him.

˗ˏˋ ★ 11. Limit: How long does it take for them to have the darling? What is the first time like? Do they care about the darling’s willingness?

You have a generous grace period of around three weeks. In that time frame, he won’t touch you sexually or force you to do anything beyond hugging him, but after that, his patience begins to run thin. Why do you have to be so alluring, why are you swinging your hips like that when you walk, why do you reveal your neck to him when you adjust your hair, why must you exist? Your mere presence is driving him wild. And eventually, he knows he needs to have you beyond some surface-level touches.

It would be easier, admittedly, if you’d agree to it out of your own volition. He attempts to gain access to you in his usual ways, just taking you to the bed, maybe climbing on top of you and hovering his face just above yours. He wishes from the deepest pits of his heart that you wouldn’t refuse his advances. Nevertheless, your stance regarding the matter becomes apparent when both of your hands land on his forehead and shove him away. You’re not pleased with the situation he has put you in, clearly, and that frustrates him.

He would really like to think that he’s above taking you against your will, that he has other methods available to him, that he’ll make you like him enough, soon enough, to not have to resort to that. However, as more days go by, he realizes that you might be even more reluctant than he originally thought.

So, eventually, it’s inevitable that he reaches his limit one day. He throws your body over his shoulder with very little effort and makes his way towards the bed before dropping you down on the mattress. By this point, you’re already anticipating that something dreadful is about to happen, and you do your best to squirm away, flailing your limbs until one of his hands snatches both of your wrists in a tight grip. He restricts your movement with ease, holding your body down with strength so immense that you give up on the physical resistance almost immediately. Instead, you begin screaming, shaking your head, spitting curses at him all the while he looks down at you with blown pupils and rapid breaths.

This is the point of no return, he thinks, and this once, he can forgive himself for indulging. You’ll be better off like this, anyway. It’s only the first time that you’ll be as terrified as you are. After it’s off the list, you’ll be much more receptive — or that’s what he hopes for, at least, because right now, you’re being less than agreeable.

After his free hand yanks the top of your dress down, you realize the true weight of the situation. In response, to his dismay, you start crying. By this point, the profanities have turned into begging for him to stop whatever he’s about to do, but your frantic voice does very little to sway his will. It does manage to elicit some sympathy, actually, but it’s not in the form you would like it to be. He only pauses his actions for a moment to bring his hand to your cheek, moving your hair away from your face. And then he tells you to calm down and just stay still. And then he goes right back to what he was doing.

The fabric that shields your breasts from his view falls to the side, and he can finally lay his eyes on what he has had to imagine for the last couple of months. Your nipples are perked up from the chill, your chest is heaving up and down in the rhythm of your panicked breaths. You’re irresistible, he thinks. His fingers glide in between the two mounds, trailing down your stomach, reaching your lower abdomen where his hand rests for a moment.

The bottom of your clothing is yanked down along with your underwear. With very little warning, you have been completely bared under his ravenous stare. You air a few more pleas for him to stop, but the volume of your voice has died down to a mere whisper. You’re terrified out of your mind, but even then, he doesn’t slow down. Instead, he rids himself of his gauntlets, tossing them somewhere on the floor, and then his fingers dip in between your legs.

You don’t understand what you did wrong. You thought, when he came over to you and whisked you away to the bed, that it was just going to be one of the cuddling sessions again, but that clearly isn’t his intention this time around. To the best of your ability, amidst all of what’s going on, you try to rack your brain, to pinpoint anything specific that might have angered him. No matter how hard you ponder, you can’t think of a single thing, and with his hands invading your most sensitive parts, the ability for rational thought slips away from your grasp.

He feels around for a little. The rough tips of his fingers find your clit, they stroke around it a few times, and then they glide down to where your entrance is hidden. He spreads your folds with haste, and then, oh Aeons, his hand goes to his belt. You can only watch with a petrified expression as he pulls out a rod that’s just about the same size as your entire forearm.

His cock is massive. Massive. The sentence would be at least a little bit funny in any other context, but you don’t find the thought even the slightest bit humorous as you realize that he’s going to try to plunge that thing in you with basically zero preparation. You’re nowhere near wet enough, not aroused, you can’t even comprehend the idea of his cock fitting into your cunt.

Your breath is catching in your throat in sheer terror, all the while Mydei gives your bits a few more rubs. He wraps his fingers around his girth and positions the tip against your hole. You weep out frantic apologies, pleading for him to stop, to at least give you a bit of time to prepare, you promise that he can have you, just please, if he could just pause for a second-!

You feel him pushing into you. It’s at this moment that reality catches up to you, and you start thrashing violently, doing your absolute best to shove your knees into his chest, sink your nails into the back of his hand, and close your thighs. Shrieks erupt from your throat, sounds that you didn’t even know a human being was capable of producing. Your words blur together, and what is left of your pleading is a string of unintelligible, horrified wails. It stings, it burns, it hurts down there.

Mydei’s breaths are ragged. He’s holding his cock in one hand, trying to nudge it further inside you past the few centimetres he has successfully managed to get in, but no matter how hard he tries, the walls of your cunt are refusing to budge. That, and when he looks up at you, he comes to find that your face is distorted in genuine pain. Beads of sweat cover your forehead, your eyes are those of a wild animal’s, he can’t make sense of the words that rush out of your mouth. You look like you’re about to faint.

He pulls his cock out. You’re far too out of it to even notice: Your legs are still twitching, gaze darting aimlessly around the room, and tears are spilling past your waterline. Your bare chest heaves up and down in irregular patterns, and your hands are clammy from the cold sweat. Tiny pearls of blood have risen on his skin where your claws have torn into it. He didn’t even feel it. The image he had of you lying below him, face flushed, fingers laced with his, shatters right then and there.

He doesn’t bother pulling your clothes back on. Instead, he reaches for the discarded blanket on the side of the bed and pulls it over your quivering body. Slowly, he releases your burning wrists from his hold. You’re so delirious that you don’t even realize he has done so: Your hands remain splayed over your head as if you were still being held down.

Time sort of slows down for him. He realizes that his dick is still out. You don’t look like you’re aware of what’s happening around you anymore. For a hot second, he thinks that he might have broken you, that this is how much your poor mind could take before succumbing.

In a flash, he goes from unfiltered, unrestrained carnal impulse to silently, tenderly lying down next to you and pulling you against his broad chest. His skin still feels searing hot against your face, and only by this point do you realize that his intentions have changed. You’re having trouble making any sense of what’s going on, your throat still feels like it’s closing in on itself, your entire body is trembling like a leaf. The hysteria doesn’t entirely wear off until several hours later, and by then, he has already been asleep for a few.

It’s fair to say that your first time with him splits into two parts, so to speak. Technically, the train-won’t-fit-in-tunnel is your first dip into the water, but the real deal will come soon enough.

He comes to ponder that perhaps it’s better if he gradually warms your body up to the idea. As in, his plan is that he’s going to start fingering you consistently to stretch you out. You don’t have to take his dick and he gets to satisfy at least a part of his urges, what a deal.

He starts slow, settling you on the sheets on your back with your hands in his. Then, unlike the last time, he doesn’t tear your clothes off like a brute, and instead just either slides his fingers down your bottom or moves your underwear aside. You’re just as shaky as the previous attempt, clearly expecting for him to rip you apart for real this time, and he takes note of that.

You do end up simmering down a little after a while, though, due to how feather-soft he’s being with his caresses along your folds. He’s making an effort to actually get you going (it’s up to you whether that works or not). If anybody were to ask him, he would never confess to ever being this delicate with you since that would be admitting how much power you hold over him. Still, it’s visible how he’s marvelling at the tiny blush spreading on your features.

So, from this point forward, these instances become regular — almost daily, you could say. His cock won’t make an appearance until he has worked his way up to fitting three fingers inside your cunt at once. (Using the red crystal things as toys to reach even deeper into you? He just might).

It might very well be that you’re not particularly thrilled about his antics even now, but he does manage to make you a little more pliant with promises of more freedom. An entire day in the bathhouse (only the private sections, though obviously), how does that sound? How about he takes you on a visit to the Garden of Life? You like chimeras, don’t you? Whatever your answer is, he’ll go through with it after he has made you cream around his fingers. And no complaining no matter how long it takes for him to do so; You come to see quite early, he’s very adept at listening to your body.

Eventually, it all will build up to him getting his cock inside of you. It will start like any of the previous times (minus the first incident), but then after you come on his hand, he’s going to take his junk out. You thrash all the same as usually when you’re frightened, no surprises there. He has to use his weight to pin you down again, but he knows that it will be much smoother this time around, so tone it down, will you? And, oh, the way your face contorts when he finally pushes all the way in, the way he can see the shape of him in your lower abdomen, he could nearly bust right then and there.

It’s likely still feels a bit unpleasant to you, he imagines. He has never been skilled in the art of comforting through words, but it’s nothing that his thumb pressing circles against your clit can’t fix.

˗ˏˋ ★ 12. Preferences: What is sex with them like? What sort of stuff are they into? What kind of kinks do they have?

It’s rough, it’s heated, it’s aggressive at least 95% of the time. That’s about it, really. Or, very rarely, especially if you’ve been looking particularly frail to him that day, he might get a bit more gentle. In normal circumstances, however, it’s best to be prepared to be sore the next morning.

Period sex

The son of Gorgo will be crowned in (period) blood.

Mydei is a warrior through and through. The fascination with grotesque things comes with that, you think. Of course he knows that you have periods, you’re a woman, he’s not stupid or uneducated, but when the time of the month comes rolling around, he realizes that huh, maybe there might be another aspect to it.

It’s not ideal if you’re in pain, more irritable, nauseous, all that stuff, but he can’t help but be drawn to you for no other reason than the fact that he knows there’s blood dripping down there. It awakens some dark instinct inside of him. Blood, to him, is a reminder of battle, of war, and that translates quite well to his behaviour. He goes feral, pretty much, it’s like his heat or something. It makes you reconsider the meaning of the word ”bloodlust”.

He sits you in his lap and props his legs over your thighs, preventing you from closing them. You’re complaining that ”no, what the hell, I won’t be having sex with you while I’m on my period”, but that does little to waver his will. He might huff a word or two in your ear, telling you to stay still, whatever. He knows you might be having cramps and all that. Won’t an orgasm or two make the muscles down there relax, too? You’re just resisting for the sake of it again. Shut it already, will you?

He sinks his fingers inside you. He doesn’t even need to worry about the friction this time because the blood is making your insides slick. It’s easy to prod them around, slide them in and out, spread the red around your bits. Your face is just about the same colour as your downstairs at this point, and he has to wrap an arm around your upper body to prevent you from trying to claw at his hand. You’re doing your best to struggle again, but when he doubles his efforts at thrusting his fingers right into your sweet spot, you need to reconsider your priorities.

Mydei gets immense pleasure from watching you come undone in a matter of minutes. Your cunt constricts wildly around him, and he lets you ride down the high as blood gushes out of your hole. However, when his fingers finally pull out, he brings them to his face and simply observes, marveling at the way your essence coats them all the way down to his palm. You feel his dick twitch against your lower back.

He will absolutely fuck you in this state, too. The blood works as lube, and he doesn’t mind getting dirty — he enjoys it vastly, actually. It’s a bit more painful these times since your regions are aching more than usual, but he knows how to make it good for you. He makes sure to stroke your breasts, your nipples, trail his hands (or hand, one has to keep you from escaping) down your sides, and press where you’re the most sensitive. It does, to your dismay, dull the cramps to some extent.

Eating you out is on the table, too. He would very much enjoy it, even initiates it a few times, but for some reason, you’re exceptionally reluctant towards the idea. He will refrain from doing it for now if it’s that big of a deal to you, but it won’t hold him back forever, just so you know.

Predator/prey

You know what really gets him going? Physical exercise, running, fighting, the thrill of battle and chase. All of those have his blood rushing in the most exhilarating of ways, which he quite enjoys, putting it very lightly. Naturally, his desire for that kind of excitement heavily intertwines with his sexual cravings.

So, it’s not even that far into your imprisonment when he takes you outside one time. You think it’s gonna be one of his ”trials”, that he’s going to make you do some parkour again or something since he leads you to the middle point of the castle, the Kremnos Arena. But then, he tells you that you have exactly ten minutes to run and find yourself a hiding place. You’re, of course, incredibly confused at the declaration, but it all comes clear to you when your gaze wanders a little further down from his eyes. Yep, there it is — the tent.

You did wonder why the noise from outside was so excessive this evening. There don’t seem to be too many monsters roaming around tonight, and you quickly put two and two together that he must have been planning this all day. You’re about to let him know your opinion on the matter, but as soon as your eyes return to his, you come to find just how excited he is about this. He’s staring you down just like a predator would a prey.

And so, you take off running. As fast as your legs allow you to, you sprint in the only direction viable: the bridge that leads away from the arena and deep into the city ruins. You’re not exactly sure where you’re going, you’re not familiar with the layout of the place since nobody in their right mind would take foot in the decayed castle.

You’re scared out of your mind, but if there’s one positive thing to be found in the situation, it’s the fact that, unlike usual, there’s not a single titankin in sight. He has got rid of them all, all for this. Following that train of thought, your skin crawls at the idea that soon enough, there will be something much scarier than Nikador’s shadows hunting you down.

Ten minutes is either a very short or a very long time, depending on the circumstances. You come to find that, in this moment, it’s both. The time given to you was barely enough to find yourself a suitable crack to hide in. It’s in between some rubble, just small enough for you to fit into, but at the same time, you grow agitated at how slow each second passes. You can hear your own, rapid heartbeat in your ears, your hands are trembling from the adrenaline, and no matter how deeply you breathe, you feel like you’re not getting enough oxygen in your burning lungs.

And then you start hearing the noise.

He’s throwing stuff around. Most likely boulders at least ten times as heavy as you. And with every passing moment, the sound grows closer. You wonder if it would be easier for you to stand in the middle of the floor and give yourself up to him, and maybe he would have mercy on your poor body.

But you don’t get much time to ponder that thought. The piece of wreckage that shielded you a split second ago is thrown into the opposing wall with so much force that you’re sure the whole place is going to collapse. You let out a screech, cover your ears and make yourself as small as possible as more debris starts flying around you. You’re only granted half a minute at most to prepare yourself as Mydei wrecks the pile of rubble to his heart’s content. After that, as the dust settles down, you’re pulled out from what’s left of your spot.

You can beg and plead as much as you want to, nothing is going to extinguish the sheer fervour he has gathered. He yanks you to him by your ankle, caring very little of how your head nearly lands on the marble, only releasing his hold in order to climb over your form. Wild would be the only correct word to describe how he looks: His eyes are wide, nostrils flared, and there’s a wicked grin on his chiselled face.

It’s only downhill from there. You’re not nearly wet enough, he finds, but even that does very little to slow him down. He barely remembers to rid himself of the sharp gauntlets before plunging his fingers inside of you. You’re sure, with how fast he’s going, that you will be bleeding by the end of this — and that would only make him go harder, you realize. It’s a terrible fate.

Ultimately, though, his goal is to make you come, even in all of his ardour. It’s not on his hands, no, but he makes sure to snake his arm underneath you and rub at your pearl when he hammers into you from behind. Your knees ache from grinding against the rough ground, same with your elbows, but it is, admittedly, difficult to think of anything else but the way his cock is rubbing all the spots inside of you, even those you didn’t know were there. All the while Mydei basically drools on top of you, chest against your back, hissing like an animal.

Oh, and if you want a really easy way out of the predicament — the only thing you need to do, when he tells you to run, is to plop down on the ground and look as pathetic as humanly possible. Bonus points if you start sobbing. It makes the caring side of him take over again; there’s no point in trying to make you escape if you’re already in this sorry of a state. It usually makes him reconsider at least, and at best, he might give up the game entirely. He’ll just huff in annoyance, disappointment maybe, gather you in his arms and go back inside. Easy as pie.

Size and strength kink

Mydei is a man of the size of a boulder, and he knows that. He can pick you up with one hand, throw you over his shoulder, carry you around like you were made of feathers. If he wanted to, he could hurl you right into the wall and leave nothing but a red splatter on the concrete in his wake. And he sort of… likes that idea. Not painting the rooms with you but the fact that he is strong enough to (hypothetically) do so. He likes how small and fragile you are compared to him.

This manifests in the sex, of course it does. He manhandles you, pushing you in all kinds of positions, against the wall, up in the air, under him with all your limbs pinned down so you can barely move… The possibilities are endless. No matter how you struggle, you can never outdo him in this aspect. And it turns him the fuck on. It has him grinning like a maniac when you use all of your strength to try and pry his fingers off of your wrists, but even with both of your hands, you can’t make him so much as budge.

If need be, he also knows how to intimidate you with his size. Maybe you’re being uncooperative, throwing insults at him, cursing him out, but it has you going quiet really fast when he takes a few steps closer to you, making you painfully aware of his size as he looks down at you. Going just by his expression, you can practically hear him go ”what was that?”, and you back down. It’s so pathetically easy that it almost amuses him. It won’t be long after that when he flings you to the bed and gives you a proper reason to yell.

And finally, his dick. His pussy destroyer 2000. It’s no joke. He knows it’s big — he’s moderately proud of it, too — but you don’t think he understands just how big it is. It’s always a stretch, no matter how many times he has breached the walls of your cunt. On the best days it’s uncomfortable, on the worst it’s, well, unbearable. Mydei has learned over time that prepping you is really important if his intention isn’t teaching you a lesson.

Even then, he never gets his dick inside all the way. A part of it is always left outside as your insides can only take so much. You feel him in your stomach, you’re sure. And, judging from the way he presses his hand against your lower abdomen with a hungry expression, you think he just might actually be.

Bath sex

The most predictable one of the things he fancies, perhaps. He likes soaking in the bath, and he likes you, so what’s stopping him from combining the two?

It’s more like sex by the bath most of the time, though. He tried it in the water once, trying to sink you down on his cock, but whatever lubrication he could coax out of you was washed away. Ramming inside you is nearly impossible that way, of course, so his usual go-to would be just fingering you instead. You respond better to that, anyway. Still, when he has the chance, he might lift you on the edge of the pool and give you a thorough fucking. You’ve tried to tell him to reconsider, that there may be people around, but he couldn’t give two shits about getting caught, really. Any normal person would be too scared to do anything about the Mydeimos having sex in a public area, anyway.

A new bottle appears among the ointments and lotions he usually has with him while washing, you notice. You won’t have to wonder about it for too long, though, because when he pours a generous amount of the clear substance onto his palm, his hand goes straight to your cunt under the surface. You yelp, your voice bouncing off the tiled walls, but he simply adjusts his hold on you and dips his fingers in. The next thing you know is that his dick is nudging at your entrance.

There is a softer aspect to the bathing, too, as mentioned earlier. It just kind of includes taking care of you in this manner, too. He washes your hair with care, lathers your skin in nice-smelling products, and he might even massage your back if you’re not in a hurry, but it’s almost always at the cost of an orgasm or few.

˗ˏˋ ★ 13. Punishment: What do their sexual punishments look like? What methods do they prefer?

Mydei doesn’t use sex as a means to punish, necessarily, but damn, it does feel like that sometimes. It’s not methodical in any way, it’s not calculated, there’s no coherent cause-and-effect line of thought there. It’s very in-the-moment and unpredictable, and that’s what makes it the worst.

If you push his buttons long enough, if you irk him (especially on purpose), if you try to do rash things, he will fuck you stupid. You can tell it from his face when you’re about to face a multiple hour long session of marathon sex from him. When you get the look from him, a string of apologies is already spilling from your mouth, and you’re slowly backing away from him, but there’s no getting out of it. And soon you’re in the searing hot embrace of the sheets again.

If you value your peace, it would be best to avoid these situations. They typically leave you sore and sometimes even bleeding; he doesn’t prep you properly in all of his irritation and anger, maybe strokes you down there for a bit at most before ramming his cock in. Unlike in all other circumstances, his priority isn’t to make you come. The point is to send a message, and his method is very effective in that sense.

He will bite you, he will dig his nails into your skin, he might even spank you. He will grab your jaw with so much force that you fear he’s going to break it if he uses any more strength, he will slide his tongue down your throat until you’re sure you’ll pass out, and when he does pull away, he’ll hiss and growl mean words directly into your ear. You are going to end up crying or he didn't do his job properly.

You’re really acquiescent afterwards, he comes to see. You lie nice and still in his arms, you fall asleep quickly. There are bruises forming on your wrists, your hips, your thighs. Your neck, shoulders and back are full of bite marks and hickeys, some having drawn blood, some surface-level. Dried streaks of tears adorn your flushed cheeks. It must have been quite intense for you, he wonders, but all in all, the result justifies the means.

Rarely, he might make you choke on his dick instead of fucking you. It’s the less strenuous of the two options, and he only allows it if whatever you did is on the fence of truly having ticked him off. The act is like dismantling a bomb, if you will. He sits down on the edge of the bed, the couch, his throne, even, and you get down on your knees and start sucking. He doesn’t actually fuck your face, partially because his cock doesn’t fit too far in (you start gagging) and partially because it wouldn’t really be you showing him remorse like that, you know? He makes you work for his forgiveness, stroking your hair while gazing down at you with your mouth full off his dick. You always find it to be terribly humiliating, your cheeks are warm, your eyes convey nothing but exasperation, but the only way to get yourself out of it is to get him to finish. And Mydei has been blessed with a generous amount of stamina, you come to find.

He also uses sex as a sort of an emotional release, not only for him but also for you. If you’re being mad, spouting slander and complaints at him, trying to throw hands, his solution is fucking you into the mattress. It’s relieving for him, and it seems to be that way to you as well. All of your pent-up anger and malice mysteriously disappears after coming a few times, and you end up being far too tired to do anything afterwards. You hate how effective it is, really.

˗ˏˋ ★ 14. Aftermath: What does their aftercare look like? Is there any?

It comes with his gentle side; he’s very particular about taking care of you afterwards. He knows that he tends to take you to your limits, even past them, so giving you adequate aftercare doesn’t only show you his love but makes sure that you’ll be ready for more in the few hours that it takes for him to charge back up.

His usual pattern is coming down from the high, just being still for a minute or two, letting his heart rate settle, and then he starts taking care of you. He’ll cradle you against his sweaty body for a moment (if you allow it, otherwise he goes straight to holding you until you inevitably fall asleep), feeling the way you pant against his chest in your afterglow. After that, he’ll sit up and check you for any actual injuries he might have caused you. Depending on what your mental state is at this point, he will either try to comfort you with his usual methods or go fetch a wet rag.

Mydei will lowkey be genuinely offended if you refuse his aftercare or show distaste towards him during it, which you often do, at least in the earlier days of your captivity. What more do you want, he made you come a good few times, he wasn’t even that rough this time around, and now he’s trying to cuddle you. What is there not to like?

He will take you in his arms, though, nonetheless. Roll you up into a blanket burrito (you’re going to boil alive) and squeeze you against his chest, his chin on the crown of your head.

˗ˏˋ ★ 15. Further notes: Is there anything that sets them apart from the other yanderes sex-wise? Are there any unique aspects to them?

Mydei will actually, genuinely lose his shit if he ever catches you jacking off. What do you mean, what the hell are you doing, you have a whole-ass him right there, and you thought that ”hmm, I think I’ll use my own hand instead”. That’s what it looks like to him, anyway. It’s somewhat of a blow to his ego, too. Are you trying to tell him that he doesn’t satisfy you? Is that what this is about?

Good luck if he ever catches you with your fingers between your legs. You know just by looking at his face that he’s not particularly pleased with the situation he has found you in.

You’re in the middle of opening your mouth, but he’s on top of you quicker than you can get a single word out. His brows are knitted together, he clicks his tongue in something akin to distaste, you’re not really sure. Then, without a warning, he grabs the backs of your thighs and folds you clean in half. A strained sound slips out of your throat as your knees hit your shoulders, but there’s not much you can do when he inhales a big gulp of air before diving right into your cunt.

You can tug on his hair all you want, you can tear out entire strands for all he cares, but his mouth is not going to come off your pussy until you’re a trembling, flushed mess. And only he will decide when that point is. Be prepared for a whole lot of overstimulation.

On a different note, a strange thing about his whims is that he only seems to kiss you in his most tender and most brutal moments, no in between. In the former, he’s being very gentle, very careful, very mindful of how it feels to you. In the latter, you’ll barely be able to get a breath in. It’s teeth clacking together, it’s biting your lower lip, it’s shoving his tongue so deep down your throat that it feels like he’s trying to swallow you alive.

That, and one more thing. He would really like to stick it in your ass. But he can’t.

The only thing that keeps him from doing it is the fundamental issue that comes with his size. Don’t get him wrong, he isn’t opposed to causing you some pain, he even enjoys it to some degree, but trying to shove it in your butt would cause actual damage. And he would rather avoid the situation of having to bring you to Hyacine and tell her what has occurred. He has entertained the idea, thought about stretching you out like he did with your cunt, building up to the size of his cock, and then, maybe, it could work. He hasn’t yet tried.

He sometimes sticks a finger up there during sex. It makes you whine quite loudly, and you’re obviously not a very big fan of when he does it. However, he can tell that you come a little bit faster that way. It makes him think.

[satoruhour]

HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up? 

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time. 

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

[heytheredelulu]

To Have and To Hold-

And to Fuck Whenever I Want

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 1.5k

C/W: Shameless smut. It’s our favorite dirty talkin’, 107 year old super soldier fucking you (his wife) on your period.

Gimme beefy Bucky coming home late, long after his kids are in bed for the night and finding his pretty little wife curled up on the couch with a frown on her perfect face, watching some shitty ass movie.

His cock twitches in his jeans at the sight of you in his tshirt and an audible groan rises up from his throat when he rounds the corner completely and notices you’ve chosen to forgo pajama pants altogether. Those innocent little cotton briefs of yours always do him in.

“What’s wrong, momma?” He asks in a low, gravely voice as he takes a seat next to you on the couch, resting a large hand on your bare thigh.

“Cramps.” You reply flatly, not taking your gaze off the garbage rom-com playing on the tv, though you’ve seen it numerous times.

“Oh.” He breathes out, glancing over his shoulder at the dry-erase calendar hanging on the wall in the kitchen that you use to manage your large family’s schedule. “Hm. Two days early?” He asks.

“Yeah, two fucking days early.” You snap, shifting in your seat.

He keeps his grasp firm on your thigh, offering an affectionate squeeze.

“You feelin’ that bad, huh?” He asks in a soft voice that he reserves only for you.

You nod, finally pulling your attention away from the television and turning it onto him. The only light source in the room at this time of night is from the flashing scenes across the flatscreen but that little bit of illumination is all he needs to see how glassy your eyes are.

“Oh, baby girl.” He murmurs, pushing your hair back off your face. “Lemme take care of you.”

You shake your head, knocking free a few of the tears that had been brimming your lash line. “No, there’s nothing you can do to help.”

He scoffs, his hand sliding up the soft flesh of your thigh until his fingertips brush the hem of your underwear.

“No. Baby, no.” You protest, bringing your hand down to stop him but his vibranium hand is faster, catching your wrist and pushing it away.

“Yes. Baby, yes.” He muses, slipping his index finger under the fabric and gently wrapping the string of your tampon around it.

“Bucky, that’s disgusting.” You hiss, frowning at him. “I’m on my period.”

He lets out a low, breathy chuckle as he slowly and carefully begins to tug. “It’s just blood, momma. You think me of all people would be bothered by blood?” He asks softly.

You pause, considering your answer but in your silence he continues. “Besides, wasn’t that part of the vows we exchanged in that sweet little church before God? To have and to hold and to fuck whenever I want?”

“That was not in our vows and you know it.”

“Hm, they weren’t? We should consider renewing those.” He replies with a crooked smirk as he pulls your tampon free, tossing it over the couch and into the waste bin with precision.

“I gotta be honest, baby girl. If the good lord hadn’t intended for me to fuck you everytime my cock was hard, he wouldn’t have blessed you with such a perfect little pussy.”

“Bucky..” you warn, sitting upright as he rises off the couch.

He shushes you, his large hands moving to unbuckle his belt as your eyes settle on the tented crotch of his jeans.

“If you think-“ He mumbles, pulling the leather through the silver buckle and unbuttoning his jeans with his thick fingers. “That I’m not going to bury myself balls deep inside my wife any and every chance I get- you are sorely mistaken.” He tells you matter of factly, tugging his jeans down his defined waist and kicking them unceremoniously aside in a pile at the foot of the couch. “Now take off those sweet little panties before I tear them off of you.”

You hesitate, swallowing down the whimper that rose up in your throat at his command.

“I said, off.” He repeats sternly, stepping out of his boxers and wrapping a hand around his weeping cock. He pumps himself lazily once, twice, in your hesitation before letting out an impatient growl and reaching forward to curl his vibranium fingers under the waistband of underwear, not allowing you a second more to protest before tearing them effortlessly off of your body.

“Now, are you gonna follow my instructions or will I have to pick you up and set you down where you belong?” He asks in a gruff whisper, his blue eyes darkening with desire.

“And where exactly do you think I belong?” You ask him defiantly, pulling at his last thread of patience.

“You-“ He growls, grasping your wrists in a punishing grip and yanking you to your feet. He jerks you towards him as he looms over you, his head dipped down to hold your gaze and his impossibly hard cock pressing against your abdomen, leaving a smear of precum across the soft skin of your belly.

“You belong wrapped around me.” He murmurs, cupping your jaw gently and brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip in an affectionate sentiment that felt like such a stark contrast to the aggression he’d just been displaying. It was the little gestures that betrayed that dominance in him, that assured you that this powerful man standing so needy before you loved you so much that he’d do anything for you without question.

You lean into his touch and he lets out a low and breathy moan.

“You belong wrapped around me, momma.” He continues. “Crying out my name. Soakin’ my cock with your sweet, sweet-“ He pauses, his length twitching as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I need you.” he chokes out, settling his hands on each side of your hip and he lifts you effortlessly, sinking you down inch by inch onto his throbbing cock.

He plants his feet and bends his knees, supporting your weight as he cups your ass, kneading the soft flesh while he allows you the opportunity to anchor your arms around his neck. A shameless moan rises from your throat, your head tipping back in the pleasure of him buried balls deep within you as he walks you backwards to press your back to the wall. A low and cocky chuckle is all the warning he gives you before he draws his hips back, thrusting up into you hard enough to kiss your cervix. Choked gasps tear from your chest as he picks up a steady rhythm, massaging your aching walls with every deep rut of his hips.

“I thought-“ He hissed through gritted teeth, dipping his head to nip at your pulse point. “You said nothing would help.”

You shake your head, mumbling incoherently and letting your head fall against your shoulder to allow him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Seems like it’s helping.” He muses, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. You whimper, tightening your legs around his waist as he slows his pace into long, deep strokes, groaning as he savors the way you grip him, the feeling of your building orgasm causing his hips to stutter just the slightest.

“Fuck, momma. You have.. the most.. perfect.. cunt.” He rasps out, emphasizing each of the last words with a brutal thrust.

You break with that last deep roll of his hips, the tension that was coiled tight in your abdomen snapping with a burst of white hot ecstacy, a broken cry escaping your heaving chest as your walls spasm around him.

“Oh God, that’s it. Come on my cock, come all over daddy’s cock.” He grunts, snapping his hips and increasing his tempo to fuck you through the dizzying waves of your release.

“Jamie..” You whimper, reaching a trembling hand to caress his jaw.

His name on your lips is the sweetest fucking sound, causing his breath to catch and his eyes flutter closed with a low and raspy moan. He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm before you trail your fingertips down his shoulders in a featherlight touch. He buries his face into your neck, his short, sharp pants hot against your skin, his movements growing sloppy and erratic as he hangs on by a mere thread.

“I’m- I-“ He chokes out, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle the primal groan that rips through his chest as his balls draw up and his cock pulses, emptying himself inside you with one last powerful thrust.

He’s still for a moment, working to catch his breath before he tightens his arms around you, peppering gentle kisses along your jaw as he lowers you to the floor on wobbly legs and you sway, stumbling forward slightly.

“Momma.” He says softly, splaying a large hand against the base of your skull and drawing you into his chest. “You alright?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m alright.” You assure him, a hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest under your ear. “I’m feeling much, much better.”

He smiles, tucking your head under his chin just to feel you close to him a moment longer.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s get you in a hot bath.”

His hands trail along your spine in a soothing motion, goosebumps prickling along your flushed skin in response to his touch.

“To have and to hold.” He whispers, pressing a firm kiss to your temple.

You grin against his chest, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent.

“And to fuck whenever you want.”

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[seafoamreadings]

big things that are coming

here are the next few astrological events i would consider extra serious, in case you like to mark your calendars or be otherwise prepared.

pluto into aquarius for real - i say for real because it's the last time we will see the ingress from capricorn to aquarius in any of our lifetimes, after much retrograding back and forth. global themes of technology humanitarianism, and perhaps revolution come to the fore in ways we've previously never even dreamed of.

mercury retrograde - the last retrograde of mercury for 2024 is ensconced in sagittarius. honesty is the way to go. people who don't know or think about astrology are going to be accidentally blabbing, even when they mean to be discreet. so keep your ears open and if you don't want the truth to get out about some matter just stay silent instead. no facades succeed in this time.

mars retrograde - less frequent than other retrogrades, the retrograde of this old malefic can be hard - especially around the station points. above all stay safe. also stay calm and stay kind! not everyone will do so - that just means it's extra needed, it doesn't mean we should all join the ranks of such people.

neptune direct - this happens practically immediately after the retrograde of mars aforementioned so be wary of deceit and manipulation and avoid doing such things yourself. be also very careful with substance abuse or even overindulgence and under no circumstances should you (ever but especially now) get in a vehicle intoxicated or with someone driving who is. maximize the good vibes of it by recording and being aware of your dreams, and daydreams. there will be messages in there almost for sure.

mercury direct - normally i like to do the mercury retrograde/direct stations in separate posts but so much happens in such a brief period that it's not super practical to do so this time. just as with the retrograde station, watch for freudian slips and accidental blurting of secrets. don't let it be you, and get what info you need when it happens to others. honesty is the best policy here but silence is also golden.

jupiter square saturn - kind of a difficult square for the yuletide season. this is a very social square. not in the sense of being particularly extroverted, but in that it won't happen so much on the personal level but within our tribes/communities/other social groups. the need to expand and the need to constrict must somehow be reconciled. it will take more than one person to figure out, but we can each do our part.

chiron direct - just before the dawn of the new year, the proverbial wounded healer resumes prograde forward motion. this station may bring healing revelations, new friends and helpful community members, or just a renewed motivation for healing and rebuilding after any traumas you've sustained, no matter how old or how new they were.

[deadhands69]

The Exorcism

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

ShigAFO fix it fic, exactly what it sounds like

There's a man inside of your boyfriend. 

Not in the way that there are two wolves or some metaphorical chrysalis waiting to awaken in all of us. No, there's a man inside of your boyfriend and he needs to get out now. 

When Tomura Shigaraki went into the hospital, you expected an adjustment period afterward with the amount of quirks being dumped in his body at once. It’s a huge change but he was committed to it. So, you all made preparations. It wouldn’t be easy, but you’d manage and you’d get through it together.

Unfortunately, the powers came with an extra passenger. A parasite. He’s settled into his body unwillingly, taking over when he wants. That’s not a cost any of you are willing to pay, especially not when it's happening to Tomura. So:

He. 

Needs. 

To. 

Get. 

Out.

Now.

While All For One is off on some mission, abusing Tomura’s body for his own selfish reasons, you’ve called this meeting of close friends. The few of you who were available on such short notice sit in a circle on your living room floor. It’s an odd group, consisting of a few League of Villains members and your old neighbor Mrs. Shuzenji. She never retired, so she doesn’t get out much other than work, meaning she never has time to watch the news at the end of the day. Because of this, she has no clue who Tomura is (or the others) and simply thinks he’s “a sweet boy” who is at your apartment all the time. She has, however, heard of All For One and holds a special kind of hatred towards him. Especially now, All For One doesn’t bring her newspaper to her door like Tomura used to. Considering that she’s a healer, her quirk may be useful in this situation. She sits on your old armchair, sucking on a lollipop.

Spinner sips tea out of an oversized mug while Toga sits to his left, texting someone. There’s a knock at the door and you jump up to let Magne in.

Perfect, you’re all here.

It becomes clear very quickly that none of you have ever done an exorcism before. Fortunately, you’ve all seen movies and you have the internet. It can’t be that hard, right?

After a brief google search, Spinner finds something useful.

“It says here that quirk exorcisms are possible, especially if the person wasn’t born with it.” 

“That’s kind of what we’re looking for,” you say, “and we won’t even have to get rid of the whole quirk – just the vestige attached to it. What else does it say?”

“Well,” he considers, “there’s a reason people don’t usually do them. It’s not the easiest process for anyone involved.” He passes his phone around, allowing each of you to glance over the instructions. After, you check a few more sources but they all say more or less the same thing.

“So,” Toga breaks the silence, “it’s decided.”

“Yeah,” agrees Spinner. “Here’s a list of the supplies we’ll need.” 

“It’s best if we keep them hidden,” you add. “This guy’s been around for a while – there’s no way he doesn’t know how this works.”

Mrs. Shuzenji offers her place for storage. It makes sense, as a space Tomura wouldn't go and there's no way All For One is ever setting foot there. 

The plan is decided quickly and you all disperse so AFO doesn’t sense you plotting against him. You need him to trust you all, at least somewhat.

A few days later, your opportunity presents itself. It’s not easy sneaking up on someone with so many sensing quirks so you’ve waited for the perfect time. AFO just got back from some solo mission he refuses to tell you all about and needs to rest. Regeneration quirk or not, healing takes time. Seeing the massive slashes scattered over his body sends a tidal wave of emotions over you. You're upset. You want to save him, protect him. Make sure nothing ever hurts him again. But mostly, you're fucking livid. 

Fortunately, that works out in your favor. The overwhelming feelings work wonders to hide your true intention so he never notices when you stick him with a tranquilizer. 

Spinner jumps in to help as Tomura’s body slumps onto the floor. The two of you soften his fall as much as you a before loading him onto a skateboard and pushing him out the door. 

When you arrive at Mrs. Shuzenji’s house, the others are already waiting for you. 

As you carefully move Tomura to the middle of the room, Magne and Toga run in to make a circle around him. 

“It's a special kind of salt mixed with a few chemicals they use in quirk canceling handcuffs,” Magne explains as Spinner looks back over the notes he took. “It wasn't easy to find, but the combination should absorb any quirks that are activated inside. It should also keep any quirks from crossing unless one of us sweeps it out of the way from the outside.”

“That’s important,” Mrs Shuzenji notes from her perch on a floral patterned chair, “quirks can go in but they can’t go out unless we open the circle.”

“Wait,” Toga asks, “so why isn’t the plan for one of us to just push Tomura out of the circle if that’s all it takes?”

“Well,” Spinner starts, “with the amount of quirks he has in him, we aren’t sure that he would even fall out of the circle. If he’s holding onto them, he’ll probably just be stuck in there. Especially since there’s another, uh, entity reliant on keeping them. He’ll fight it.”

“Plus,” you add, “do you want to climb into that ring with All For One when he realizes what we’re doing?” She shakes her head.

Each of you takes a seat around the edge and waits for him to wake up. You need him conscious for this or you won't be able to access the quirks. Taking advantage of the extra time, you begin passing out some of Tomura’s belongings. The ritual requires that each person involved in the quirk exorcism has an object belonging to the subject in order to form a connection. Fortunately, Tomura has been leaving his clothes all over your apartment from the day you started dating. Spinner picks up a sock from the pile with a disgusted look on his face.

After a few minutes, Tomura begins to stir. That's enough to begin. 

“So,” Spinner reads from his notes, “next we need to draw the quirks out and into the barrier.”

His voice is enough to wake AFO, who instinctively shoots off an attack at the barrier while opening a warp gate. One of his arms shoots towards you, sending a shock wave in your direction, but it never makes it. Instead, the quirk hits the invisible barrier above the circle and is yanked from his body. The portal melts too, sucked across the room and into the side of the circle before it disappears. He grimaces slightly as the jolts bring him to his senses. 

The next one isn’t so easy. Now that he knows what to expect, he holds his meta abilities closer to himself.

Still, there’s a way for you all to forcibly activate his quirks and you came prepared to do so. This part gives you pause. You remember watching AFO use a quirk to do this a few times and it never looked comfortable. However, he also doesn’t need anyone to be conscious through the process so clearly his ability differs a bit, which makes you think that if one part varies so much maybe the whole experience could be completely different. You hope so, at least.

Spinner reads from the sheet in front of him, before you all join in. “The incantation is ‘meta facultates exi.’” You all repeat it in unison, holding his belongings. After a few tries, something happens. His fingers twitch, beginning to change form. You all continue, louder and with more force. 

Red tendrils explode from his body, shooting out of his spine and fingers like lightning through the room until they hit the barrier and are wrenched away. Tomura jerks in all directions from the force of it before he crumples to the ground. Everything in you wants to comfort him, but you can’t. 

“So,” Toga begins to say what you're all thinking, “if we're doing this for every quirk, how many are there?”

None of you have an answer to that. Tomura’s eyes flicker from a beautiful red to muted white. AFO smiles from inside the circle, sending chills down your spine. 

“I've been around for years, collecting quirks much like this one used to collect pokemon cards,”he says, far too calm for the situation. “You'll never know if you got them all. Even if you do make it to the end of this, you'll always wonder if you missed something. And there will be no way to know. You're fighting a losing battle, so if you wouldn't mind I'd like to end this now and not waste any more of your time.” 

His words and emphasis in Tomura’s voice makes you want to scream. Throw up. Instead, you pull yourself together. 

“I will know. I'll know because you are not my boyfriend.” Looking at the group around you, you continue. “Again.”

“Everyone settle in, it's going to be a long night,” Mrs. Shuzenji says across the room. 

She's not wrong. 

The five of you repeat the words, putting all of your energy into it. Some of the quirks go easier. Others put up a fight. 

Much of the time, you see them flicker in advance and know you're on the right track. Muscles twitching, flames sparking, lights forming in his palms. 

Sometimes nothing seems to happen at all and you're not sure if it's working until his body pulls with the exorcized quirk. 

After one particularly concerning moment when you forced him to activate a quirk and were met with bloodlet, you all decided to take a brief break. 

“I forgot about that one,” Magne murmurs quietly while shakily sipping a cup of tea Mrs. Shuzenji made her. “He lost a lot of blood on that go.”

“He's still breathing though,” you say, knowing you couldn’t open the circle now to help him if you wanted to. You kneel down at the edge, “Tomura.” 

White eyes glare up at you. “I'm not talking to you and you know that.” Eventually his eyes shift back to red. 

“Hey,” you try to reassure him, “you're doing great.” He nods in acknowledgement. “Are you okay to keep going?” He nods again. 

The cuckoo clock on the wall announces that it’s 3am, taunting you. And to think, you used to find it cute.

As everyone reassembles, you toss a water bottle in the circle to keep him hydrated, but AFO throws it back out at you. That's his loss. You don't know All For One very well but you definitely know Tomura. 

Unlucky for the possessor, you've witnessed Tomura go longer without anything for much less reward. Once, you dropped by his apartment to find him having been glued to an online game for three days straight without eating or sleeping. If it comes to endurance and suffering, Tomura will win hands down. 

You hate that it's come to that though. 

“Again,” you whisper, voice growing hoarse. Your fingers twist into his shirt, gripping it like it's the only piece of him you have left to hold onto.

This time a series of spikes erupt from his body, much like unicorn horns. One pierces straight into the barrier and they all lurch out with a snap. Tomura crumples to the floor, laying on his side while he catches his breath. 

The end is growing near and you can sense it. 

The next doesn't go so well. 

“meta facultates exi,” you all chant. You've said it so many times the words no longer feel like words. You try again. And again. But nothing happens. AFO stands in the circle, quietly laughing. 

“You won't take that one,” he says and you realize this is it. You're down to the last quirk, the only one that really matters to him. 

The five of you continue with the incantation in unison, voices growing louder and louder until they finally crack. Eventually, the words feel dry in your mouth. Everyone's shouts turn to a feeble murmur and you stop. 

It has to work, you tell yourself. The group looks exhausted, Toga is sprawled on the floor near Magne’s feet. Mrs. Shuzenji looks like she's melted into her arm chair. Spinner's head hangs in his hands as he stares at what once was his friend. 

An air of sadness fills the room, but it's not over. Not yet. You drop the shirt you've been clutching all night.

Out of options, you do the only thing you can think of: jump into the circle with him and hope you can bait All For One into trying to steal your quirk. 

Magne audibly gasps, everyone's eyes grow wide. Now that you're in here, you're not sure if this was the best idea but you've committed. 

“You're almost out of quirks,” you taunt, “sure you don't want to try for another?”

AFO’s eyes flicker, but he makes no move to act on it. 

“I know you want my quirk,” you continue, “I see the way you look at me every time I use it.”

“I know what you're doing,” he replies, “and it's not going to work. I'm a patient man, I can wait. And now, you're stuck in here waiting with me. They'll give in and let you out eventually. You're my path to victory, so I believe I should be thanking you.”

His words make you nauseated, but you're used to that by now. In the entirety of your life, you can't remember ever hating someone this much. Every fiber of your being loathes this man and everything he stands for. You want nothing more than his destruction and wouldn't stop at anything to make it happen. 

Tomura looks tired, thirsty. In his current state, he’s barely able to stand upright. His eyes briefly flick between red and white, irises wavering. When the red returns, he smiles weakly across the small circle at you. 

That's all the time you need.

Before he can even think to brace himself, you jump on him. Your body feels like a rubber band being snapped as something is pulled from deep inside of you. Both of you land flat out onto Mrs. Shuzenji’s hardwood floor, outside of the circle. Your friends stare down at you in shock. 

While you're aware of what you did, the reality of it doesn't quite set in. Instead, you sit exhausted on the floor holding Tomura’s hand while Mrs. Shuzenji looks over his injuries. 

“He doesn't have much stamina left in him so I can't do too much, you'll have to come back when I’m off work tomorrow.” She leans in, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek. You notice some color returning to his skin. 

“So,” Toga says, looking closely at the salt ring on the floor, “he’s just in that now?”

Spinner steps in, pulling her back a bit. “Possibly. It’s uncertain how long quirk vestiges can survive outside of a host. Probably best to not touch it, just in case.”

“Hmm,” she considers, “what do we do with it then?”

“He can haunt my vacuum cleaner for a while,” says Mrs. Shuzenji, bumping everyone out of the way as she comes through with her oversized pink vacuum.

After everything is cleaned up, you all thank her for the use of her space and make your way to your respective homes. Spinner helps you move Tomura back to your place (he said he could walk by himself but proceeded to stumble around, too exhausted to figure out where to go.) 

The sun is just coming up as you make your way to your next door apartment. After Tomura is tucked into your bed, it’s decided Spinner should stay on your couch given how tired he is. You grab him some blankets before making your way back to your bedroom.

When you finally lay your head down, it all hits you. The pain, exhaustion. How much you sacrificed tonight. Both you and Tomura are quirkless now and you’re not entirely sure what to make of that yet. It’ll be a massive shift in your life, but now’s not the time to figure that out.

Tomura sleeps soundly by your side, long white hair piled around his face. He looks so peaceful for the first time in a long time. Whatever life changes come tomorrow, you’re absolutely certain it was all worth it.

bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme 

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills 

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

 @lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim  @xytraxpy @venom-barf 

@shiiigaraki @thetinas21 @spam-1 @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner

@amira-44820 @its-evee16 @thesecond2demonking

[lacy-oh-lacy]

✧ Wanda Maximoff ･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

NSFW alphabet

CW: Fem!Reader, Switch!Wanda, masturbation, cunnilingus, overstimulation, vibrators

Aftercare

Wanda’s a nurturer at heart, so of course she’s great at aftercare. She's not much of a talker beyond making sure you're alright or volunteering to get you anything but she's very physically affectionate, stroking your hair or cuddling up to you while you drink the water she always has waiting.

Body part

On you: Wanda doesn't really have a favorite part of you, every part is perfect in her eyes.

On herself: She doesn't have a favorite part of herself either but for kind of the opposite reason. However any part of herself that you seem to like and show special attention to, she can't help growing a fondness for.

Cum

Wanda's almost embarrassed by how wet she gets. Nothing makes her quite so red as you coming out from between her legs, drenched in her slick. She never waits too long after you’re finished to clean up.

Dirty secret

She's pretty innocent honestly. She does have a dirtier, kinkier side but she hasn't even discovered that herself yet so it's hardly a secret.

Experience

Little to none. She's had a hard life that hasn't left her a lot of time to get close to people, and even once she's with you she takes things slowly.

Favorite position

She doesn't care how “basic” it is, she’ll defend missionary with her life. Anything that has you face to face works just as well for her though.

Goofy

Wanda has a subtle and easy sense of humor, so a few quips are to be expected. She's not usually downright silly or dead serious but she can be from time to time.

Hair

Realistically she's never had the luxury to care about body hair so she doesn't mind having a bush, but she does like getting dolled up when she gets the chance and that includes a shave.

Intimacy

Wanda is such a sensitive and romantic person, to her most of the appeal of sex is the intimacy. Even the rare times she's horny out-of-her-mind or you experiment with anger sex it always turns into lovemaking by the end.

Jack off

Wanda’s never lived comfortably enough to get into the habit. The only time she tried was in the brief period when you weren't dating but she had a massive crush on you.

Kinks

She's vanilla but she has fantasized about spicing up your sex life. She's not into anything that would distract from the intimacy of the moment but she likes the idea of a soft!dom/sub dynamic.

Location

Mostly just the bedroom, she's also a big fan of the bathtub. If she was jealous or if you were deliberately turning her on in public, that might also make her dominant enough to drag you off for a semi-public hook up.

Motivation

Considering her lack of experience it doesn't take much to turn her on, but if you want to go above and beyond, something romantic and sensual like a massage or a nice bath really does the trick.

No

With all the trauma she has, there's a lot of kinks that would only bring back bad memories; pain-play, being restricted, degradation and crying are all instant turn-offs.

Oral

Cunnilingus is practically her love language. She never feels quite so cared for as when you're between her legs, and she puts her all into making you feel the same way when she's between yours.

Pace

She likes to take her time, sex isn’t just about ‘getting off’ for Wanda, it's about expressing love.

Quickie

Again, she prefers to take her time but she's not opposed to quickies. When she is especially silly and giggly during sex it's usually during one.

Risk

She probably won't suggest something risky, but if you do she’ll consider it. She doesn't like taking stupid risks but she is always up for a challenge, especially one dealt by you.

Stamina

Pretty high. She's stronger than she looks, and she can cum a lot before she gets too sensitive, even once she does, a bit of overstimulation is honestly a turn-on for her.

Toys

She'd like to try them. She has this one fantasy of leaving a vibrator inside of you and seeing how long you can last while she talks you through it, stroking your hair or playing with your tits all the while.

Unfair

She's the opposite of a tease, she wants to lavish you in pleasure. She's such a whiner if she's the one being teased but she does her best to take it, she wants to be good for you.

Volume

She doesn't know how to control her volume, she's a moaner, a whimperer, a beggar, a praiser. Your favorite is her little curses in Sokovian.

Wildcard

This could also fall under “Toys” and “dirty secret”, because Wanda’s powers count as a toy in their own right and she's had many dirty thoughts about using them as such. She wouldn't act on it, she has too much self-loathing tied up with her powers to, but it's such a temptation.

X-ray

She has a few nice sets of lingerie but most of her stuff is pretty plain. Not that it matters, she's breathtaking in anything.

Yearning

She has an average sex drive, and decent control over her libido but if you're deliberately trying to turn her on she’s putty in your hands.

Zzz

Sleep doesn't come easy to Wanda. Her mind gets away from her and she tends to stay up late overthinking. She's happy for you to fall asleep though, because then she can hold you in her arms and at least her thoughts will go in a happier direction.

[licorice-tea]

The Bane of My Existence

Pairing:Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: some spoilers for Sabaody arc (nothing major), enemies to lovers! strawhat reader, reader and law are both stubborn and argumentative smh, reader is more optimistic though, law is awkward and not great at understanding his own feelings <3

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: part 1/2 for a little enemies to lovers fic! one of my favorite tropes but I almost never write about it... also I've been rewatching bridgerton and was very inspired by the relationship between Kate and Anthony, which is where the title comes from too! (can you guess what part 2 will be called?) anyway, enjoy and lmk your thoughts! :)

Part 2

Sabaody Archipelago is easily one of the coolest places you’ve visited so far. Not that Alabasta, Skypiea, Water 7, Thriller Bark weren’t cool too… but you’re a people person! And to get to see such a diverse mix of groups from all over the world converging here, on one island Archipelago, brings a genuine smile to your face. It truly does remind you of a theme park: from the attractions to the oversized trees and bubbles.

In fact, you’re so caught up in all the splendors of the carnival-esque grove that you don’t realize you’re being watched. Or, followed, rather.

The Heart Pirates, yet another crew from some vague corner of the world, have been tracking you for the better part of an hour now. Except, they’re only following their captain, who happens to be following you.

Hes not entirely discreet about it though, because at one point Bepo asks, “Um… Captain, why are we following them?”

Shachi responds unprompted, “Yeah, I’ve never seen their bounty poster so… what’s up?”

Law scowls, “I’m not following anyone.”

Though he is low-key following you, Law couldn’t give a good reason as to why. You walked past him and his crew on your way to meet up with the rest of your crew- the Strawhat Pirates- and he’d just sort of trailed after you once you’d gotten a safe distance ahead.

“Really? Because every time they stop for directions, we slow down. And we’ve turned at all the same spots, too… So it really does seem like we’re follo-“

“I am NOT following them.” He lies through (literally) gritted teeth.

Now, Trafalgar Law is in now way shape or form a believer in love at first sight. He’s never been in love period… but the feeling he gets from seeing you is something new and foreign. Like, he really wants to talk to you… he just doesn’t know what for. Law is still trying his best to come up with reasons to stop you and ask for your name when you overhear the brief argument between him and his friends.

With a quick glance over your shoulder, you spot a group of at least 10 on your trail. They’re in the middle of conversation, so they don’t notice you taking notice of them.

Your first instinct is to look around for your crew; but of course, they’re scattered across the groves of Sabaody Archipelago by now - as are you. “Sigh. I might just have to handle this in my own.” But, wait- who said they wanted to fight you? Maybe you should just approach them first, wouldn’t that give you the upper hand in some way? (It wouldn’t, but you can’t think of anything better than to try and charm your way out of a possible jumping with your friendliness and perfect smile.) So, you roll back your shoulders and take a breath before strolling back over the grass to your pursuers.

“Why would I be following some rand-“

“Because you have a crush on them!”

“Oh they’re cute, Captain, you should ask them to join!”

“Gasp! Yeah, then you can get to know-“

They all go silent (save for some quiet gasps) as you step toward the semi circle they’ve formed around one man- the only one not wearing a white uniform, who they call “Captain.” You tap him on the shoulder and he whips his head around.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?”

The man just stares at you for a moment with a frown. You fear that you might’ve been wrong about his intentions, until he blinks and mumbles, “Uh… Sure.”

Your smile returns- of course you weren’t wrong! Plus, he’s kind of hot, but you’d catalog that thought and come back to it on some lonely night in the future. “Great! I’m looking for grove 41, it’s where some of my friends are.”

You’d learned back in Water 7 that sometimes, it was best not to disclose who exactly you’re traveling with, nor the location of your ship. (At least, not when you’re infamous pirates.)

“Grove 41? I’m headed there too.”

The polar bear wearing who is also wearing a white uniform clears his throat.

“I thought we were heading to Grove 1, Captain?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to get in y’all’s way then-���

“Nah, I think Captain would love to show you the way.”

“Shachi!” The captain sneers. “We’ll meet back up at Grove 1 after I show them the way." Then, he looks you up and down. It's quick and analytical rather than flirtatious or intimidating. "Don’t cause me any trouble.”

You smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m y/n, by the way.”

“Trafalgar Law, and this is my crew, the Heart Pirates.” He gestures around the semi circle, then turns to face them, “You guys go take a break or something. I’ll be back shortly.”

“But Captain, we want to go with you!”

One of the men with red hair- Shachi, you’re pretty sure, elbows the polar bear.

“Hey!…” He looks down at Shachi then gasps like he suddenly had a revelation; “Ohhh. Sorry Captain, we’ll see you later!”

Law rolls his eyes. “See you soon.”

There's something about his dark hair and grey eyes that charms you, right off the bat. Or maybe it's his relaxed, confident demeanor. Possibly even his idiosyncratic style of clothing, and how he (and all of his crew) wore the same logo; so very organized and professional. But no matter the exact reason as to why, you find yourself quite happy to be in his company.

Alas, he’s not a very talkative man, so you make up most of the conversation with questions and your own introductory information. “-and that’s how I got here, to Sabaody!”

“Uh huh. And who did you say your crew was again?”

“I, ahem, I don’t travel with a crew.”

“Right.” He laughs dryly.

“What is it?”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I- I’m not lying!”

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what crew you’re a part of,” Law explains, “but don’t lie and say you’re not a pirate at all.”

“Well… it’s generally not a good idea to tell strangers that you’re a pirate. Not even nice ones, like you."

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach that unexpectedly appear when you call him nice, Law's burning curiosity is fed by your roundabout half-answer. “Ah, so you are one? What’s your bounty?”

“That’s not really any of your business.” Though you believe his intentions to be purely based in curiosity, you're second guessing allowing this man to lead you away on an island grove that you have never visited, nor know anything about. Still, your crew is nowhere in sight or hearing range, which worries you given just how loud they usually are.

“I’m paying you a favor by leaving my crew to escort you to where I’m assuming your ship is located- it’s the least you could do.” Law’s tone is more prickly than before.

“Well, I don’t need an escort, and you’ve already walked me halfway there and pointed me in the right direction.”

“Fine- then I’ll leave.”

His sudden change in mood from what you interpreted as shy to borderline aggressive throws you off. And so, having a similar moody temperament and stubbornness (though you’d never admit it after seeing it so clearly in him), you return the sentiment. “Fine by me.”

You continue walking forward while Law turns back, until he calls over his shoulder. “And by the way; you’ll need to find your way through the lawless zone up ahead if you want to get to Grove 41.” If condescending was a person, it would be him. You’re sure of it. “That, or I could’ve shown you a much safer shortcut.”

You pause, turn to face him, roll your eyes, and continue walking.

“What, you’re still not going to ask for my help?”

“Don’t need it!” Which, you really don’t. You’re plenty strong, but your bounty is small enough to not be worried. “I’m not scared of a law-less zone, if anything I think I’d welcome it.”

Your mocking words hurt his ego in a way he hasn't felt in years, taking him down several pegs.

You don't even stick around long enough to listen to him rebuke everything about you, from your high and mighty tone to your vain attempts at lying, ending his one sided argument with a very classy middle finger your way. So, Law grumbles all the way back to Grove 1 to find his crew, and hopes to never see you again. Meanwhile, you find your way to the other Strawhats. Your adventure with them continues, and you don’t have much time to think of your earlier encounter with a handsome pirate and possible-friend turned enemy (if you could even call him that.)

Law doesn't know if his ego (or wildly beating heart) could take another second in your presence- it just might burst if it had to endure any more of your witty comments or sly looks. It would, however, be an interesting theory to test further, should you ever meet again.

The prospect is both horrifying and thrilling to him at the same time.

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟽

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

previous | story masterlist | next

“Come here, little ducks. I’ve got a bunch of yummy seeds for you guys to eat.” 

You crouch down, leaning closer to the edge of the lake as you scatter seeds across the water’s surface. They all come flocking around, trying to gather the food up as quickly as they can.

“They like it,” you beam towards Liam. “Good idea bringing all these seeds along. It’s been a while since I got to do something like this.” 

Liam smiles back. “Don’t mention it. You look like you’re having fun.” 

“Mhm! I love animals. They’re so cute and interesting. And even if we don’t completely understand them, it’s cool how they find different ways of communicating with us.” 

“Yeah, there’s all kinds of crazy stuff going on in the animal kingdom. Animals are a lot smarter than some people give them credit for.” Liam pauses for a moment, then sheepishly scratches his head. “When I was younger I actually wanted to become a veterinarian. But obviously there’s a lot of work that goes into that sort of thing. Even if I went to university, I’m not sure I would’ve had what it takes.” 

Axel leans over his boyfriend’s shoulder and pouts. “Don’t say that, babe. You’re super smart. You always learn things way faster than I do. I bet you could have easily done it. And it’s never too late to start, right?” 

“It’s fine,” Liam chuckles, tousling Axel’s hair. “It’s not like I’m not happy with my current career. I was just imagining another outcome, that’s all.” 

“Well, if you ever find something else you want to try, I’ll be right behind you. You should be able to do whatever makes you happy.” 

Axel wraps his arms around Liam and gives him a big hug, and even though this date is technically supposed to be between all three of you, you can’t help but feel like you’re slightly out of place. They’ve just got such a sweet and lovey-dovey relationship. It’s enough to make you blush. 

“Thanks for saying you’d support me,” Liam smiles. He squeezes Axel’s hand, then crouches down beside you. “Anyways, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent. I just wanted to say I really like animals too. Oh!” 

His eyes widen, and at first you’re not sure why, but then you follow his gaze and realize that one of the smaller ducks has decided to climb out of the water. It stands up on its cute webbed feet, spends a few moments shaking its tail feathers off, then proceeds to tilt its head at you and stare. 

“I think it might want to say hi,” Liam whispers, being careful not to scare the duck off. 

“That or it wants more birdseed,” you whisper back. 

“Ah. Yeah, that’s probably it.” 

“I’ve heard ducks can be pretty aggressive, you know,” Axel remarks to no one in particular. You notice that he’s not getting close to the duck like you and Liam. He’s probably not that big on animals.

“You’re probably thinking of geese,” Liam dismisses. 

“Nah, ducks too. I’ve definitely heard that they can get really territorial and stuff.” 

“Is that why you’re standing so far back? Because you’re scared of this one little duck?” 

“...no.” 

Axel crosses his arms and frowns, but he still doesn’t step up, so honestly, it’s not too convincing. 

You and Liam exchange knowing looks, even chuckling a few times under your breaths, but before you can consider teasing Axel any more, the duck walks right up to you and lets out a proud, resounding quack. 

“Aww,” you gush. “Look at this cutie.” 

“He’s adorable,” Liam nods in agreement. “Here, little guy. We’ve still got lots of seeds left for you.” 

Both of you hold out hands filled with birdseed. The duck takes a moment to ponder its options, then starts pecking at the seeds directly from your palm. You giggle at the sensation of its beak nuzzling your skin. 

“Damn, lucky!” Liam whines. “I want to feed him too.” 

“We can take turns. Here, I’ll pull my hand away so he can go over to you next.” 

You do just that, and unsurprisingly, the duck heads directly towards the nearest source of food. Liam’s eyes are practically glowing with excitement as he watches the duck happily eat straight from his hand. 

Axel shakes his head. “Man. Aren’t you guys scared he’ll bite your fingers off?” 

“Ducks don’t have teeth, Axel,” Liam sighs. He gives you a look that seems to say, ‘Sorry about him. He’s hardly a duck connoisseur.’ 

“But they can still bite, I’m pretty sure.” 

“Are you seriously scared of ducks? How am I just now finding out about this?” 

“Pfft.” You giggle and tentatively reach a hand out while Liam feeds the duck, and as chance as would have it, the duck sits still and lets you pet its back (much to Axel’s horror). 

Honestly, if it was up to just you and Liam, you probably would have played with the ducks for an absurd amount of time, but you feel bad that Axel isn’t being included in this activity, so you suggest doing something else. 

“That was fun, but you mentioned wanting to get something to eat, right?” 

“Yes,” Axel says, exhaling loudly. “Yes, finally. No more ducks. I don’t want to see any more ducks ever again.” 

Liam shakes his head. “I still can’t believe my boyfriend is scared of ducks.” 

“I already said I’m not scared of them! Anyways, whatever! Let’s just go!” 

He storms off comically, and once again, you and Liam proceed to look at each other and burst out laughing.

You walk back the way you came from and eventually leave the park. Axel already seems to have a few places in mind for where you can go to grab food, and he looks excited to voice his suggestions. 

“This place has really good reviews,” Axel beams as he swings the front door open. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great. You always know how to pick them,” Liam encourages. Axel nods happily and steps inside the restaurant, and while his back is turned, Liam leans in to whisper in your ear. “Please just humor him. Even if the food’s bad, try not to let it show. He gets really bummed out about these kinds of things.” 

So, he’s scared of ducks and also gets all pouty when things don’t go his way. That’s kind of cute.

You sit down at one of the booths and start skimming through the menu. Thankfully, it looks pretty promising. Odds are that everything will taste great and Axel’s feelings will be spared.

You end up being seated right in between Axel and Liam, which feels a bit strange, since it’s sort of like you’re acting as a barrier between the couple. They seem fine with it though, and you suppose this is supposed to be a date involving you as well. So far it’s felt more like hanging out with your friends, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially since you’re getting paid on top of everything else. 

“What are you gonna get, [Name]?” 

Axel leans over, bumping shoulders with you in the process. The booth is big enough for the three of you to sit comfortably, but he isn’t shy about getting close. The lack of distance makes your face heat up a little bit. These guys really are way too attractive for their own good. 

“I’m not sure yet,” you admit, hoping it’s not too obvious that you’re blushing. “What about you? Have you already decided?” 

“Sure have,” he grins. “I’m getting the steak. And the ribs. And the spicy hot wings.”

That’s a lot of protein…

“Axel has a big appetite,” Liam says, flipping through the menu. “I keep telling him he eats way too much meat and needs more variety in his diet, but he doesn’t listen.” 

“How is my fault that meat tastes so good?” 

“Your body’s going to hate you one day when you’re not young and fit. I also don’t understand how your skin always looks so nice, even with all the junk you eat.” Liam sighs and lightly pats his cheeks. “Meanwhile, I break out constantly if I’m not careful.”

“Being a model full-time sure sounds difficult,” you frown. “I obviously don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard it’s really hard always staying in perfect shape.” 

“It depends. Some people you work with are more lenient than others, but yeah. I’ve definitely met my fair share of assholes that made me adhere to ridiculous standards. That’s just the industry, though. It’s super competitive, so you need to be willing to go above and beyond. Which is why I’m getting a salad today.” 

“He works so hard,” Axel sniffles. “I would literally kill myself if I ever had to eat a salad.” 

You chuckle, but in all honesty, you doubt he was kidding.

Eventually, you figure out what you want to eat, and soon enough, the server comes back with all your orders. Axel’s dishes alone cover the majority of the table. Setting aside the fact that it’s literally just meat, the sheer quantity that he’s about to consume is enough to make you feel ill.

You decide to avoid looking at his side of the table and just focus on yourself.

“It’s good,” you remark, and you’re not just saying that to make Axel happy. The food is good. Going to this restaurant was the right decision after all. 

“My salad’s really good too,” Liam nods. 

“How good can it possibly be? It’s a salad,” Axel shudders, as if merely uttering the word causes him immense pain. 

Liam shoots him a pointed glare out of the corner of his eye, and Axel proceeds to take a big bite out of his ribs, unbothered. Meanwhile, you struggle to hide the smile spreading across your lips. Being with these two is a lot of fun. 

“Oh. [Name], you’ve got a little something on your face,” Axel suddenly remarks. 

“I do?” 

Your face reddens. How embarrassing. You’re not usually a messy eater, which is why you’re surprised to see Axel reaching towards you with a napkin. You squeeze your eyes shut so he can gently pat the napkin across the corners of your mouth.

“Th-Thanks,” you say. “I appreciate it.” 

Axel grins. “It’s no big deal. There were only a few crumbs. I just wanted to try doing that. So, now it’s your turn, right?” 

He gestures towards the little patches of sauce on his face, which you were debating telling him about, but he clearly seems aware. It’s no surprise he’s made a mess, considering the loaded meal he’s been chowing down on.

You chuckle softly. “Alright, then. Hold still so I can clean this up for you.” 

Axel beams at you, clearly happy as can be. He didn’t initially strike you as the type who enjoys being spoiled, but then again, he’s scared of ducks and refuses to eat vegetables, so perhaps it’s not all that surprising. 

Your back is turned towards Liam the whole while, so it goes without saying that you don’t notice the pained look in his eyes.

“All done,” you say, and Axel sighs disappointedly. 

“That felt so nice,” he whines. “Will you play with my hair later? I love it when Liam plays with my hair.” 

“I can just do that for you at home,” Liam suggests, a slight desperation in his voice. 

“But I want [Name] to do it for me,” Axel insists. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close while grinning. “[Name]’s so cute and nice. I can’t believe you’re not actually dating someone for real. People are seriously missing out.” 

You blush again. The flattery is practically nonstop with this guy. Well, you suppose you aren’t complaining, and it's nice to know that he’s having a good day. 

“...yeah. She’s really cute and nice,” Liam mumbles in agreement. He smiles at you, briefly, then turns away and starts poking at his salad. 

For just a second, his expression looked a bit off. Were you imagining it? 

“Man, I don’t want today to end,” Axel sighs, still hugging you. “I can’t wait for us to do this again. You’re fine with that, right, [Name]? You’d be open to seeing us again?” 

“Of course,” you nod. “I’ve been having a great day. You two are a lot of fun to be around. What about you, Liam? Would you want to do this again sometime?” 

Liam freezes up. Once again, he’s surprised that you’re bothering to check with him. He’s so used to Axel leading the conversation. He’s got a big personality and has a tendency to sweep everyone up in his own pace. 

But you were right to ask him. Initially, Axel said this would only be a one time thing, and he agreed to it just to make him happy. However, it’s clear now that he isn’t comfortable doing this. You’re a great person, and he genuinely enjoys being around you, but he’s not sure he can ever imagine sharing his boyfriend with someone else. It’s nothing personal. It’s just… not something he feels okay doing. 

So, he needs to be vocal about this and tell Axel how he feels. Surely then, he’ll understand. The fact that he was willing to even try should already count for something. It has to. 

Liam offers you an appreciative look, then turns towards Axel.

“I’m—” 

“Liam wants to do this again too. Of course he does,” Axel says, waving his hand and practically dismissing him before he can get a word in. “We talked about it before. And he would’ve told me if he wasn’t having a good time.” 

Liam desperately tries to hide the shock on his face. 

What? He… never promised anything. All he said was that he would try this out and make his decision afterwards. Why is Axel acting like it’s already a sure thing that he’ll want to keep going?

“Today’s been great,” Axel hums. He leans up against you, shoving your body closer to Liam’s and effectively pushing you into his arms. “Going on a date is way more fun with all three of us. Right, Liam?” 

Axel finally meets Liam’s gaze, and the look in his eyes is so painfully expectant that Liam can’t think of a way to refuse. He knows he should. He’s an adult, with his own voice and his own opinions. But for some reason… it feels wrong. It feels like he’s not allowed to do what he wants and risk upsetting Axel in the process. 

Liam hasn’t had a relationship worth protecting until now. He’s only dated losers, assholes, or shitty girls who went behind his back and cheated on him. That’s why he’s so afraid. He’s afraid that saying the wrong words will ruin the best thing that ever happened to him.

And so, he buckles.

“Yeah,” Liam smiles. He’s used to forcing a smile. He does it for work all the time. “It’s been a lot of fun. We should definitely do this again.” 

You stare at him long and hard. Part of you still gets this strange feeling, this feeling that he isn’t being completely transparent. But you’re not the one who can make this choice for him, and he’s had every opportunity to come forward with the truth. 

“Great,” you smile back. “I’m happy to hear it.”

Axel lets out a happy cheer, and even leans across the booth so that he can pull Liam into his arms as well. Between the three of you, it’s hot, stuffy, and there’s not much wiggle room, but Axel seems to be loving every moment of it.

Liam’s eyes lower to the ground.  

It’s okay. Just one more time. He’ll go on just one more date, and then he’ll tell Axel how he really feels. 

Definitely.

It’s late. Normally, at this time of the night, you would be curled up inside your apartment, either doing homework, watching TV, or scrolling mindlessly through your phone. It’s nearly time for you to be going to bed, but instead of sitting comfortably at home, you’re standing out in the chilly night air, dressed in a skirt that you grossly underestimated how short it is. 

And what’s the reason for all of this? 

Your job, of course. 

“[Name]! Hell yeah, you actually made it,” Callum grins. 

He walks over to greet you in a hug, but you’re too preoccupied with shivering from your poor choice of dress, so you give him a half-hearted fist bump instead. 

There’s a party on campus tonight. Well, there’s probably several parties on campus, but this is the one that Callum invited you to, because he heard that Nadia would be going as well. And since he fully intends to make her jealous and eventually win her back—a plan that you still aren’t totally convinced by—he hired you to come out and be here with him. 

“You look really nice,” Callum says. He offers you a lazy, but well-meaning smile. You appreciate the compliment, and you were hoping you looked nice, but right now you’re honestly freezing your ass off. The sooner you get inside, the better. 

“Thanks,” you nod. “You look nice too. I, um. I like your t-shirt.” 

Callum stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and explodes into laughter. “Haha! Ha, that’s good. You know, you really don’t have to force yourself to say something nice. Most guys don’t exactly put as much effort into their outfits as girls do.” 

“It’s a nice t-shirt,” you shrug. 

“Well, I appreciate you saying that. Come on,” he gestures, beckoning you along. “Let’s get going. This is around the time people were saying Nadia would be showing up. If we’re lucky, maybe we’ll run into her right from the beginning.” 

You nod and follow him. Even though you still have your doubts about whether or not Nadia will actually want to get back together with him, you’re done worrying about it. He’s the client, and you’re here to do a job. All you can do is play your part, and play it well. You’re being paid whether or not his plan succeeds, and honestly? Part of you is hoping it won’t, only because they’re so clearly not good for each other. You want Callum to be able to move on with his life and find someone who treats him well. Someone who genuinely makes him happy. 

But until that happens, you’re in for one hell of a ride. 

“I mentioned before that some buddies of mine are gonna be at this party too, right? I think you’ll like them,” Callum says. He scratches his cheek, then laughs. “And they’ll probably like you too. None of my friends can really stand Nadia. They always tell me she’s a massive bitch and I need to drop her already.” 

Yikes. Even his friends are advising him to find someone else, but he still has no intention of doing it. His relationship with Nadia truly is a horror show. 

“Honestly, they’ll probably suggest I start dating you instead,” Callum adds in a casual, nonchalant tone.

“But we’re still telling them we’re just friends, because that’s what we agreed on. Right…?” 

You blink warily. You hope this whole thing isn’t one big setup, because you’ll be really pissed off. If he deceives you again, then you have no intention of keeping him as a client. 

“Don’t worry,” Callum reassures. “I’m only going to tell people that you’re my friend. I’m just assuming how they’ll react, because I know they’re desperate for me to date other girls apart from Nadia. They just really want her out of my life. Which I get, because again, she’s kind of fucking crazy.” 

I am very much aware. 

You let out a sigh. It’s weird to think that you’re being paid to essentially butt into someone else’s relationship. If someone had asked you how you would be earning money, you could never have predicted it would be like this. 

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. There’s no shame in what you’re doing. If other people can hold their heads up high while working this job, then so can you. 

“Looks like we’re here,” Callum says. He points towards a big house further up ahead, where there’s a line of people waiting outside to be let in. It’s even busier than you were expecting. You’re not much of a partygoer to begin with, but damn. You can already tell people are going to get wasted out of their minds. 

Callum pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Hold up. I’m gonna text my friends and see where they’re at. One of them is pretty close with some of the frat guys, so I think we’ll be able to get in for free. We might be able to skip the line too.” 

You nod and step back while you wait for him to do his thing. He’s trying to call his friends, but it looks like he might be having a hard time getting through to them, because no one’s picking up. They might already be in the house and can’t hear their phones ringing. The music is blasting even way out here, so you can only imagine how loud it is on the inside. 

Pretty much all you can do is twiddle your thumbs while you wait for Callum to tell you what the plan is, so you absently walk around in place, hoping that it won’t be much longer—you’re seriously freezing. 

All of a sudden, someone bumps into you from behind. 

But it’s not a little bump. It’s not the kind of bump that just startles you and might make you look around in surprise. 

No, it’s the kind of bump that knocks you flat onto the ground and lands you right on your palms and knees. 

The kind of bump that was done on purpose. 

“O-Ouch…” 

You grit your teeth and wince. The fall was far from pleasant, and you know that your tights definitely ripped from the impact. It hurts like a bitch, and when you slowly peel one of your hands away from the concrete, the skin of your palm is covered in angry red scrapes. Part of it has even begun to bleed. 

“Aw, I’m so sorry,” a nasally, disgustingly-fake voice cuts in. It’s a voice you recognize, unfortunately. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is. 

But you do it anyway, and you’re met with a hateful grin. 

“So sorry about that,” Nadia says, looking anything but. She twirls a lock of hair around one of her fingers and chuckles. “But it was really your fault for not looking where you were going. Maybe don’t walk around like an airhead next time, okay, love?” 

You don’t say anything. You refuse to debase yourself and sink to her level. But either way, one thing is certain. 

She’s not going to make this easy for you. 

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[buckysxbarnes]

Choice

hihi!! i'm posting my first bucky fic hehe

apologies if things aren’t canonically accurate - this is the first time i’ve written anything to do with bucky so things may be slightly off. if you guys feel like anything is out of character just lmk and i’ll correct it for next time!

idk if i like this lol, idk if it even makes any sense oops

this is my first fanfic in about 5 years, so pls be kind hahah! constructive criticism is so welcome tho. i hope you all enjoy!

words: 1.8k

bucky meets someone that he thinks he could love, but struggles to believe that he is allowed to be loved again

tfatws!bucky x barista!reader

content/warnings: hydra mentions, fluff, angst, bucky is a soft fool, is there a happy ending?? read and you will see hehe, very descriptive, no dialogue

Going out wasn’t Bucky’s thing. 

Sure, back in the 40s, before HYDRA, before he became the Winter Soldier, before life as a normal man was so cruelly taken from him, he enjoyed a dance or two, but never anything crazy. The times he did go out were mainly just futile attempts to get Steve to become more confident in himself - trying to break him out of his shell. In all honesty, Bucky thought it was all a bit silly, although he managed to take pleasure in the silliness when he had his best friend by his side, listening to his favourite music at the time. 

He didn’t enjoy it now though. He hated it, despised the idea of going out and having fun. Not that he thought he deserved to have fun anyway. Too much had happened, too much had changed. Steve was gone and the music wasn’t the same.

With all that being said, there was a brief period of time post HYDRA, post the blip, where the ice that surrounded the super soldier's heart had started to melt. He’d been frozen and thawed out so many times in the past that he never kept a tally, the reason why he was so old on the inside but outwardly resembled the body and face of a man in his late thirties.

Frozen.

Thawed.

Frozen.

Thawed.

But the frost around his heart was something only the heat from within could melt, something he was painfully aware of. He couldn’t remember what it was like to be warm, the bitter chill of ice haunting him in every waking moment. However, the chill had started to subside, the ice softening.

And it was all because of you. 

////////////////

You weren’t anything important, or at least that’s what you thought about yourself. A barista in a coffee shop wasn’t much to shout about but hey, it was helping you through college which was the main thing. Working Mondays through Saturdays from 4:30pm until close meant that a lot of people passed through the shop, but you got to know your regulars pretty well. So when a stoic-looking guy with a metal arm walked in at 5:32pm on a random Thursday just over a year ago, you thought nothing of it. 

Of course, you knew exactly who he was - how could you not? He was famous… infamous? Whichever way you wanted to look at it, people knew who he was, and you weren’t an exception to that. You didn’t bring it up though when you served him. Why would you? It wasn’t any of your business, besides, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. He seemed quiet, reserved, almost shy to an extent, although you couldn’t really tell from his facial expression (or lack thereof). His order was simple, a black coffee, nothing more. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t intrigued by the man, curiosity almost getting the better of you when he came back a third, a fourth time in the space of a week - at exactly the same time, ordering exactly the same thing. But you never said anything, instead silently watching him while he sat and stared out of the shop window.

Bucky could feel your eyes burning into the side of his head, he wasn’t an idiot, he knew you knew who he was and wanted to ask him questions. He appreciated that you didn’t pry though, he found himself relishing the small talk you both participated in every time he came by. You only spoke about relatively mundane things, the weather, how busy the day had been, how quickly days were flying by; things that any other regular person would see as run-of-the-mill, but not to Bucky. He’d been starved of normalcy for so, so painfully long that small interactions with you made his day (he’d be damned if he ever admitted that to anyone - even you), the reason he kept coming back multiple times a week.

Eventually, you got to know the super soldier pretty well, meeting him outside of work whenever you were both free at the same time, but it wasn’t easy. You still hadn’t asked any of the questions you wanted to ask about his past, whenever the topic of conversation hinted at veering towards something even slightly related to anything he’d been through, Bucky would shut down immediately and drastically change the subject. It didn’t matter to you though, spending time with him in silence was enough. You spoke about mostly anything and everything with him, and you particularly enjoyed telling him stories that you thought he’d find interesting after your nights out in the city - the soft gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you that he enjoyed hearing about them, even if he never said it directly to you.

You’d grown very fond of him over the past year; finding yourself yearning to spend as much time with him as possible, growing concerned when he didn’t swing by the coffee shop at his normal time, wishing that he’d touch you for longer than a whisper, smile at you longer than a blink, laugh with you for longer than a second. There were nights when you couldn’t sleep, for the thought of Bucky was enough to have your head spinning, your heart racing, your mind conjuring up scenarios of you two both together in domestic heaven. You weren’t sure what was worse, the fact that you’d seemingly fallen for an ex-assassin, or the constant wondering about whether he felt the same way for you as you did for him.

Of course Bucky felt the same about you as you did for him. He wasn’t a monster, as much as people made him out to be. He could feel, and God could he feel. He felt everything, too much, too soon, all the time. He could most certainly feel. He just didn’t want to. Over the years, everything had been taken from him in the cruelest of ways: Steve, life as he knew it, his family, his friends and not to mention his goddamn arm. The soldier knew he liked you, liked spending time with you, appreciated the way you never judged him for what ‘he’d’ done in the past, the way you treated him so gently, as if he was made of porcelain - which could shatter under the lightest of touches - and not an engineered killing machine, built to obey orders.

The soldier knew he liked you, which is why he did his best to stop feeling that way. The fewer people he cared about, the less leverage people had over him - the less he had to lose. There was a part of Bucky that was urging him to accept the kindness for once, to give himself a break, to let himself be loved, to let himself love. Oh and he fought, he fought tooth and nail, fought harder than maybe he has ever done in his life, with his own mind. The agonising realisation that you were the only person he’d truly be able to give himself to, found after years of subconsciously searching for someone who he felt like he could love, battling with the trauma and scars that the past had left all over his body and psyche. The soldier laid awake night after night, barely managing enough sleep to keep him going, trying to determine which path to take, what decision to choose.

Choice.

Choice was something Bucky still wasn’t used to. For so long, all he did was follow, follow, follow. Choice was a luxury he didn’t get to have. But now he had it, and he hated it. He was petrified of making the wrong decision, fucking this all up. He chose to come into your coffee shop, he’d seen you through the window and was intrigued, wanting a closer look at you. He chose to keep coming back, day after day. He chose to start seeing you outside of the shop. He thought he was brave enough to let himself love, to let himself be loved again, to have something to lose, to have something to be proud of.

But he wasn’t. 

You’d melted some of the ice around his heart, warmth now starting to seep through his veins instead of being a memory buried at the back of his brain.

You’d melted some of the ice around his heart, but it felt weird, unnatural and undeserving. Bucky had told himself that he didn’t deserve love, didn’t deserve forgiveness, didn’t deserve you - and that was a decision he so selfishly made for you. He had gotten so used to not having a choice that he’d ripped your choice away from you, justifying it by telling himself that you deserved so much more than him, even though you wanted him more than you wanted life itself.

And that’s why he purposefully stood outside the main window of your cafe (that he knew you always looked out of, watching and waiting for him to walk into the shop) on a quiet Thursday evening at 5:32pm, kissing a random girl that he had pulled off of the street who had agreed to take part in this stupid little plan of his. This was the only way that he thought he’d be able to distance himself from you - it wasn’t that he wanted to hurt you, he just wanted you to hate him. Bucky wanted you to hate him so he felt like he didn’t have to explicitly make the choice about whether to let himself love you or not. It was ridiculous of course, he’d chosen to stay alone, he’d chosen to stay frozen. He just didn’t have the heart to tell you.

He couldn’t.

So instead, he justified it by telling himself that even though he’d kissed another girl right in front of you, you were still the one who chose to want nothing to do with him in the end. 

It didn’t make sense. But then again, neither did Bucky.

//////////////

So, going out wasn’t Bucky’s thing.

He hated it. 

But every Saturday night, without fail, he’d roam the bars and clubs of the city, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of you, out with your friends, having fun. The fun that he didn’t feel like he would ever deserve to have again. He remembered the stories of your nights out that you’d tell him every week, things you’d get up to, the laughs that you shared.

Sure, he could just come to the coffee shop again, he knew your schedule like the back of his hand after all, he just didn’t want you to see him. He wanted to see you, but he didn’t want you to see him. Although yes, he was the one that shut any avenue of a deeper, more meaningful relationship off in quite a brutal fashion, it didn’t mean that he still wasn’t obsessed with you.

He just didn’t want the world to punish him again for loving.

[ao3-deviance]

Five Times Kirishima Kisses Bakugou's Hands

.....

The first time he does it, it's a joke. 

Bakugou and Kirishima are rough-housing, as they sometimes do, and Bakugou laughs as he shoves his palm into Kirishima's face. The tiny sparks popping off of his hand are nothing worrisome, he's not trying to actually hurt Kirishima, and the other would harden himself anyways. Instead, instinct leads Kirishima to lean up to kiss Bakugou's hand, right over his sparking palm, face half-hardened and smile wide. 

Bakugou is stunned in the moment, and Kirishima uses his distraction to get out of the other's hold and to pin him with his own arms. Bakugou doesn't even begrudge him the win, seemingly distracted, and Kirishima doesn't think anything more of it. 

The second time it happens, it's a strategic move. 

Bakugou is all anger, palms exploding, eyes focused on the target. It's been a bad day, between his internship and a test from Aizawa, and he's been practicing this one move for hours now. Kirishima has sat quietly and watched, unable to really help, but he wants to be there. 

It's nearing the three hour mark--the sun has long since set--when Kirishima decides enough is enough. Bakugou is frustrated, yes, but he's also trembling under the power of his own explosions, sweaty and exhausted from a long workout. 

Kirishima stands and steps forward in Bakugou's next lull period, grabbing Bakugou's wrist. 

“Oi–”

Kirishima leans down to kiss his knuckles briefly, eyes locked on Bakugou's. He squeezes Bakugou's hand in his own. 

“Let's go, Katsuki,” he says quietly. 

Bakugou deflates, relenting. He follows Kirishima out of the gym without argument. 

The third time, it's a gesture of intent. 

Kirishima didn't think he'd been subtle. All this time, he felt confident that he'd made his desires known, simply letting Bakugou lead them on the path they were headed down. It was, of course, inevitable that they'd end up together. 

It's late when things finally change. A late night on patrol meant Bakugou got back to the dorm after most people had gone to bed. Not Kirishima though, the redhead dozing on the couch as he waits. The door opening startles him awake, and he smiles when he sees Bakugou home.

“Welcome back,” Kirishima murmurs, standing and reaching out a hand. Bakugou accepts it, reaching back, and Kirishima lifts his hand to his face so he can kiss the warm palm, pressing his cheek into it afterwards. 

Bakugou watches him with dark eyes, only the dim nightlight in the kitchen giving them anything to see by. He steps closer, and Kirishima echoes him. 

“Thanks,” Bakugou whispers, and his breath wafts over Kirishima's lips. 

They're so close. This is how they've always been, orbiting closer and closer, never quite going over that edge. But Kirishima is tired of them avoiding the elephant in the room. He steps even closer, nose brushing Bakugou's. 

“Welcome back,” he repeats, dipping his head to press a soft kiss against Bakugou's lips. The blond returns the pressure, leaning just a bit more into the touch as Kirishima pulls back, keeping them together for just a moment longer. 

“About time,” Bakugou says, and he grins. 

Kirishima smiles back, and they hold hands as they head upstairs to bed. 

The fourth time, Kirishima is trying to be romantic. 

They've been together officially for nearly six months, and Kirishima is stressing about it. He's never experienced this, this overwhelming feeling of love for another. He wants to shout it from the rooftops, but he can't even get the words out in front of Bakugou. As soon as the blond looks at him, with that soft look saved just between the two of them, Kirishima loses track of every word he knows. 

They have a quiet night in, as usual, and it makes something in Kirishima so warm, for Bakugou to be so comfortable with him. He feels so full, so happy, and he reaches over to interrupt Bakugou's writing to take his hand and bring it to his face for a brief kiss. 

“What are you doing?” Bakugou asks, but he doesn't pull away, face flushing a little pink. 

“I really like you, bro,” Kirishima murmurs, smiling at him. “Like, so much.”

Bakugou's face is fully red now, and the other bites his lip. “I…do too. I mean, you too. I…like you too.” 

Kirishima grins, kissing the other's hand again because it's there and he can, before leaning over to kiss Bakugou's lips too. 

The fifth time, Kirishima is fully in love and ready to admit it. 

They've had ups and downs, but never once has Kirishima felt like they weren't on the right path. Bakugou and him were partners, teammates for life, and he couldn't imagine not having the other by his side. 

They're just walking, meandering over a bridge really, when Kirishima gently tugs Bakugou to a stop. The other looks back at him, and Kirishima smiles, lifting their joined hands so that he can kiss the back of Bakugou's.

“I love you,” he says, and it's the first time of many. He knows it. 

Bakugou's eyes widen a moment at the declaration before he seems to melt a bit, softening his edges in a way he only does for Kirishima. 

“Love you too, Ei,” he returns. 

Kirishima can't help but lean forward, free hand cupping Bakugou's face to kiss him soundly. He feels lighter than air, feels unbeatable, stronger than unbreakable. He hugs Bakugou tightly, lifting him and spinning them around as they both laugh. 

After that, Bakugou stops counting the number of times that Kirishima kisses his hands. His hands are weapons, bombs, but Bakugou feels Kirishima's precious trust every time the other brushes his lips against his hands, and even if he loses count of the times, it never stops causing a tiny spark of love to zip down his spine. 

[misshoneyimhome]

For the period sex request - feel free to ignore this if you don't like the idea!

I see period sex either as a way to help relieve the pain and pressure, or as a hot dirty way to have sex. I honestly find it very hot when men are not grossed out by period, which I have a feeling William is very mature about this.

I also see him as the type to bring it up when you're in pain, like "hey if you wanna try it I'm down"

As I said, feel free to not write this, I completely get it, it's not everyone's cup of tea!😊

I hope I’ve understood your idea, babe 😊 Just to let you know, I don’t have any experience with this, so I’ve done my best to imagine it in the simplest way possible—I don't think the descriptions are too graphic ❤️ Like you mentioned, it might not be for everyone, but I wanted to give it a go anyway 🤗

I just hope it’s come out alright, though I haven’t had a chance to proofread it!

Tropes and warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, soft boyfriend!William, period, smut 18+; sexual intercourse during period, unprotected sex, (p in v)

word count: 2K

➼｡ﾟ

The messier, the better | inexperienced!reader x William Nylander ✐☆

The living room was bathed in a soft amber glow, the single lamp on the side table barely illuminating the space as you curled up on the couch, the weight of the hot water bottle pressing gently against your lower abdomen. Outside, the world was dark and quiet, a blanket of calm, but inside, the dull ache in your belly was relentless—a throbbing reminder of the discomfort you couldn’t escape. You shifted slightly, letting out a small, frustrated sigh, wishing for even a brief reprieve from the persistent cramps.

In the background, you could hear William bustling around the kitchen, the soft clattering of dishes and the occasional rustle of cupboards punctuating the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. His movements were purposeful, and though you couldn’t see him, the sound of him in the open kitchen brought a small sense of comfort.

“Hey, do you want anything?” William called out, his voice laced with that familiar warmth and care, as though the answer already mattered to him.

You shook your head. “No, I’m good,” you called back, your voice strained as you tried to hide how uncomfortable you felt. The ache made it hard to muster the energy to talk, but you didn’t want him to worry.

Yet, just moments later, William appeared at the foot of the spacious sofa, casually leaning against the frame, his brow furrowed in gentle concern as he looked at you. His tall frame was silhouetted by the dim light as he came around the sofa, the air around him always carrying a sense of calm. He sat down beside you, the cushion sinking under his weight as his hand instinctively reached out to rest on your leg. His touch was light, but the warmth of his hand radiated through the fabric of your blanket.

“You sure? You’ve been looking a bit miserable,” he said softly, his voice a tender mix of concern and affection.

You let out another sigh, sinking further into the couch, your shoulders sagging under the weight of discomfort. “It’s just that time of the month,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. “The cramps are really bad today.”

William’s expression softened instantly, his hand shifting to gently squeeze your knee as he gave the hot water bottle a sympathetic glance. “That sucks,” he said, his voice lowering in a way that made you feel like he truly understood how rough it was. He shifted closer, the space between you closing as his hand lightly brushed over the hot water bottle resting on your stomach, as if his touch alone could somehow ease the pain. “You know,” he began, his voice taking on a more playful tone, “I’ve read that some people find relief in other ways.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite the dull ache that refused to let up. “Oh? Like what?” you asked, the teasing glint in his eyes already hinting at something a little less conventional.

A grin spread across his face as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, playful yet sincere. “Well, if you’re up for it, I could help… in a more fun way,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief, but there was no mistaking the genuine care behind the suggestion.

Your heart gave a small, unexpected flutter at his words. It wasn’t something you had ever seriously considered, especially not while you were feeling so uncomfortable, but the thought of being intimate with William during your period didn’t seem as strange or daunting as it might have once felt. Not with him. He had always been patient, understanding, and never one to shy away from anything that involved your well-being.

“Really?” you asked, your voice coloured with both surprise and intrigue.

“Why not?” he replied with a confident shrug, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh now. “It’s natural, and I’m definitely not… afraid of it. Plus, if it helps you feel better, why not give it a try?”

You laughed softly, the tension in your body easing just a little at his light-heartedness. There was something undeniably comforting in the way he spoke about it, as if it was the most normal suggestion in the world. “You’re seriously okay with that? I mean… won’t it be messy or something?”

“Sure, but…,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing tenderly against your leg. “I also think it’s pretty sexy… I mean, if you can feel comfortable with yourself, then it can feel really good. For both of us. And if it helps, I’m all for it.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, the slight embarrassment you had felt earlier slowly melting away. There was something about his openness and confidence that made you feel safe, like you could trust him completely—like this could be just as intimate as anything else you’d shared. “Well,” you murmured, biting your lip as you considered it, “maybe it could be worth a try. I mean, maybe it’s a fun… distraction.”

William’s grin widened, the playful sparkle in his eyes now mixed with something deeper, more serious. “Exactly. And I just want to make sure you’re feeling better,” he said softly, his voice gentle as his hand rested against your cheek for a moment. “We can just try, and you’ll say stop if you don’t feel good about it.”

With a small nod, you felt a blend of nerves and excitement swirl within you. “Oh… okay. Let’s try it.”

The grin on his face was infectious, and as he kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, you could feel the warmth radiating between you. “Let’s get comfortable first, yeah?” he murmured, before gently rising from his position.

William then lifted you effortlessly into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you to the bedroom. The gentle sway of his movements felt reassuring, the ache in your belly momentarily forgotten in the safety of his embrace. As he reached the bedroom, he set you down gently on the mattress, ensuring you were comfortable before stepping back to assess the space.

“Just relax and make yourself comfortable,” he instructed softly, a warm smile on his face as he moved to fetch a towel and a glass of water. He the. returned quickly, dimming the lights and making sure the sheets were soft and inviting beneath you.

As he leaned down, his hands resting gently on your hips, you felt the atmosphere between you shift. What had started as playful teasing had now evolved into something more intimate, more tender. William kissed you slowly, his eyes locking onto yours as if silently asking for your permission every step of the way. His patience and care put you at ease, the sharp edge of your discomfort dulling as you focused on him—on the way his hands felt against your skin, on the way his body moved with such careful intent.

As he settled between your legs, the soft heating pad you had placed there earlier still radiated warmth but was now replaced by the heat from him. William took his time. With deliberate slowness, he began to undress you, carefully peeling away layers as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Each movement was filled with tenderness, making sure you were completely comfortable with each action.

His gaze was filled with adoration, and he took a moment to admire you, as if he were committing every detail to memory. This was no longer just about desire; it was about connection, intimacy, and the shared moments that made your relationship so special.

He eased into you with such gentleness, the connection between you suddenly erasing the lingering ache in your abdomen. It felt a bit strange at first—the way he stretched you so easily, your fluids providing comfortable access—but also how his member naturally eased the pain of your cramps.

“You’re still okay?” he asked with genuine concern.

You nodded and offered him a gentle smile. “Yeah,” you breathed, your hands comfortably resting on his shoulder blades. Though you instinctively dug your nails into his skin from slight discomfort, it wasn’t unpleasant.

You didn’t quite understand the biology behind it all—maybe there was just something low key primal about it.

Regardless, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, combined with the slow, deliberate way he moved, made you feel completely safe—completely cared for. The way he almost painfully slowly pulled his length out, only to very slowly push it back in, was close to overwhelming. Every movement was purposeful, his rhythm steady and unhurried, as if the only thing that mattered was making sure you felt good.

The usual fire of passion wasn’t there, but it wasn’t missed. What you shared in that moment was different—deeper. It was about comfort, about connection, about the intimacy of being completely open with one another. There was no rush to reach any particular goal. Instead, it was about the slow, steady rhythm of your bodies, the trust between you growing with each passing moment.

Moans escaped from both of you—just like they always would during intimacy. However, tonight they sounded different. Nothing eager or overly stimulating. This was soft and tender. Deep breaths in and deep breaths out, mixed with intense desire and pleasure.

To your great surprise, it felt almost heavenly. Your pain was gone, and the pleasure William was providing you drove you slowly closer to a climax. Not an intense rush like you were usually granted, but a comfortable sense of relief. And with William’s pace slowly picking up, you allowed yourself to surrender to the pleasure, close your eyes, and let the wave of relief wash over you.

But then you felt William struggling to hold back, his breath coming in hot pants against your neck as he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. His hands tightened in the sheets as his body tensed, a low groan escaping his throat as he surrendered to the intensity of the moment.

He wanted this moment to be about you, not him. This wasn’t about his release. However, the way your walls hugged him so tightly, probably because of the swelling due to your period, sent him into overdrive. Your warmth around his throbbing member simply gave him no chance to extend the session for much longer.

With every thrust, every moan, and particularly the way your walls clenched around him during your soft orgasm, he felt the need to reach his own peak.

So, with a slightly quicker pace, he released inside you with a soft, guttural moan, the feeling overwhelming him, and you couldn’t help but smile at how connected you both felt.

Afterwards, William didn’t rush to pull away. He lingered, his breath coming in soft pants as he pressed gentle kisses along your jawline, your hands still wrapped gently around him. “Are you okay?” he whispered, his voice thick with concern as he gazed down at you.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. More than okay,” you replied, feeling a deep warmth spreading through your chest—a closeness that went beyond just the physical.

True to form, William was just as attentive in the aftermath as he was during. Very gently he pulled away, before he got up to grab a warm towel, his touch soothing and gingerly as he helped clean you up, his eyes never leaving yours as he wiped you down with care. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked again, his voice full of tenderness as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “Yeah Willy, I’m good,” you said with a soft chuckle, feeling incredibly content. “I’m perfect, actually. Thank you. I just hope you thought it felt good too.”

William’s smile mirrored yours as he leaned down to kiss you again, the kiss soft and lingering, filled with the same love and care he’d shown the entire time. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you. And… well, believe me - it was not just good; it was amazing ,” he murmured, his fingers gently stroking your cheek as he settled beside you, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you too. So much.”

The two of you lay there in the quiet stillness of the bedroom, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. It wasn’t about the sex—it was about the connection, the trust, and the love that made the entire experience feel so special. And as you drifted off to sleep, William’s arms still around you, the pain and discomfort that had plagued you earlier felt like a distant memory.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

No. Because I do not like ᴅᴋʙᴋ.

If I sound frustrated in this response, please know that it is because for two and a half years, I ran my meta blog and never received a single question about shipping dynamics. As soon as I specifically named myself as a member of a fixed ktdk/bkdk group, which exclusively releases works with that dynamic, I started getting questions and comments about the opposite dynamic.

My meta analyzes their canon dynamic, which does not go into sexual situations on-screen. I hold myself to high standards of being persuasive and compelling in my writing, and I had no interest in examining the language used in canon to illustrate the complexities of their relationship and then suddenly go "ANYWAY SO THAT'S WHY IZUKU TAKES IT UP THE ASS."

Would that be funny? yeah absolutely. But I wrote my posts to be informative, engaging, and interesting. I wrote them to help people understand more cultural and linguistic nuance in the storytelling and in their characterizations as shown in canon.

As a result, I am not surprised when people do not know my preferences regarding sexual dynamics or assume I might be a switch fan. I intentionally did not get into dynamic discourse for the entire run of my blog because people get really intense about it and take it very personally. It starts fights I have no interest in participating in.

That said, I am a fixed bkdk fan. I always have been. There was a brief period where I tested the ᴅᴋʙᴋ waters out of curiosity, but I discovered I disagreed with the interpretations of their characters, motivations, and desire for each other.

I have no judgment against other people's tastes. I'm happy if people enjoy my work and find it informative regardless of their own preferences. However, I have seen ᴅᴋʙᴋ fans post about my meta and then immediately twist my words and come to conclusions I did not advocate for, and I always found that baffling, but I decided it's not my problem and I can't control how some people simply hear what they want to hear.

If you look at my blog, you will actually see a number of my posts directly contradict interpretations and theories spread by some ᴅᴋʙᴋ fans. ᴅᴋʙᴋ fans were the biggest promoters of the "repressed Izuku/control your heart is about how he needs to accept his feelings for Katsuki" theory, which I criticized and deconstructed from a number of angles.

Another factor is this: ᴅᴋʙᴋ is not really popular in Japan. The exact number varies depending on platform, but at any given time, ᴅᴋʙᴋ content only has roughly 25% of the amount of content bkdk has.

Fanworks on jpn site Pixiv, graphed across the years.

Doujinshi listed for sale on Toranoana. Pairings in order: ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ x ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ (3,051 doujinshi) ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ sʜᴏᴜᴛᴏ x ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ (1,473 doujinshi) ᴛᴏᴅᴏʀᴏᴋɪ sʜᴏᴜᴛᴏ x ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ (1,429 doujinshi) ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ x ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏᴜ ᴋᴀᴛsᴜᴋɪ (1,274 doujinshi)

ᴅᴋʙᴋ doujinshi has a higher ratio than other kinds of fanworks, with 41% of the doujinshi bkdk has. This arguably indicates that ᴅᴋʙᴋ is not popular on a widespread level and instead has a small but loyal fanbase, since doujinshi involve more effort than other kinds of fanworks.

One could argue that ᴅᴋʙᴋ appears more popular, proportionally, in English-speaking fandom than jpn fandom, but no one really knows. Unlike jpn fandom, which is fairly well organized, the numbers for English-speaking fanworks are impossible to glean with any accuracy. Even AO3 tags don't tell the whole story, because not every fanfic on there specifies top and bottom, which jpn fandom never fails to do.

I bring this up because there simply aren't that many ᴅᴋʙᴋ doujinshi, and the number of new releases has dwindled since the series ended. Even if I wanted to translate ᴅᴋʙᴋ doujinshi, I wouldn't have a lot of material to work with. The opposite is true of bkdk doujinshi. We're having a goddamn renaissance over here!

And as I mentioned in my original post about translating bkdk doujinshi, in Japanese fandom, the separate spaces for fans of different dynamics is strongly enforced. A fan of one dynamic may have "landmines," which refers to things they never want to see or engage with in fandom. When you force someone to see or interact with content of the opposite dynamic they have expressed alignment with, you are being disrespectful of that person and the fandom space itself.

Every single one of my posts is tagged with bkdk, not ᴅᴋʙᴋ and not both tags. My bio says "bkdk triumphs." My sexy fanfic wips are top-Katsuki. My fanart is top-Katsuki.

I do understand if, up until my post about translating bkdk doujinshi, you did not notice the signs that indicated my preferences. English-speaking fandom is a mess and has no real respect for structure. People misunderstand tags and terms and misapply them all the time.

But both of these comments have come as a direct result of me specifying my preference, and it is impossible to read that as anything other than disrespect.

I apologize sincerely to anybody who's just chilling here. Please don't take this as an insult to you or your preferences. Again, I am happy people enjoy my work regardless of their taste in sexy fanworks.

It is worth noting that neither of the users who asked these questions follow me, and their blogs are empty, which I find pretty bizarre and don't know how to interpret. Perhaps it's just a couple people trying to circumvent my no-anon-asks policy. Who knows.

Anyway, please stop asking me about ᴅᴋʙᴋ.

[jamereadsmanga]

continuing my half baked analysis of the four horsemen, i am gonna ramble about war and famine.

i will preface this by saying i do not understand the four horsemen at all. i genuinely can not understand philosophy and biblical imagery. i swear to god i read that entire and not once did i make the connection. so if it sounds like i am making shit it up, that's because i am. i have been interested in theory, always more into analysis.

in my last post, i talked about the masochist desires of Control and death. they are both so obsessed and fascinated by themselves that they crave their own punishment (7th try take it or leave it). Death wants to die so that she can understand what it feels like but because of her sheer power she quite literally can not die. similarly, makima wanted to be controlled, she was on the hunt for someone or something that was so powerful it could control her but her own ego prevents her from ever truly submitting. so what about the other two?

Famine as a concept is a bit limited in it's own definition. There is something much deeper to the idea than just hunger. To me, it's about lack of resources that occurs during hardship. Lack of food, clean water, shelter and clothing. these are not only necessary for our comfort but our survival. however, the absence of these things do not have the ability to instantly kill us, they just make of suffer. we can survive without food, we can drink unclean water (hell even our own piss will suffice), sleep on the streets and be completely nude. but it will be an awful and painful life that we will have to sit through the entire time, making those final moments as painful as possible.

Fami's masochism is her desire to stop people from suffering. she doesn't like seeing people in pain and she wants to help anyway that she can. she comes to earth and her first thought is "i need to save these people". when she meets the boy she tells him she is going to free him from his suffering by killing him. except she can't kill people, she only knows how to make them suffer. her way of killing you is to literally drain you of your life, making you stand there as your entire body slowly loses energy and you eventually collapse. she wants to end people's suffering by causing even more suffering.

the irony is, much like makima, her own ideology goes against her power. devils gain their power through fear. the fear of control/conquest is different than being under someone's control. and the fear of control is directly tied to suffering and death. if death and suffering are no longer threats then control is no longer a threat. if there is no consequence to being controlled or resisting control then there is no reason to fear control anymore. her plan to get rid of her sisters would reduce her own power.

similarly with fami, if you get rid of all the suffering (or you make suffering manageable) then no one will fear suffering anymore. if i know that i have to go through a brief period of pain and then it's all over then fine by me. it's that or that fucking death prophecy. by killing people she is reducing her own power and quite literally causing her own suffering. but the real gag is if she gets too weak she just takes other people's strength so she cant even suffer in peace.

they're all just a bunch of walking paradoxes.

war is a bit different. she seems the least sadistic, clearly driven by her desire to seek conflict and cause chaos but thats the thing. the devils gain power through fear, not the thing itself. as long as people know what war is and the danger it can bring then she's good to go. her problem is that she doesn't want people to simply fear war, they want them to fear her. the reason we go to war is to assert dominance. to gain control. spread ideology, it's about a fight for power and control (lol). she is not going to be satisfied with just being strong, she needs to win her strength and earn that status through violence and destruction. yoru will fight anything and anyone because she just wants to win.

but the irony of it all... lowkey, she doesn't want to win. To win is to end the war. She's not the control devil, so she's not interested in the power earned through war she's just interested in the process itself. She loves the chaos and the mess of it all. The only way to ensure there will always be a war is to lose. Then you have a reason to start it up again. You get to experience that build up all over again, and that would make that final victory even more satisfying. Being able to lose and come back even stronger and wash them and prove that you are indeed the greatest warrior.

This masochism ties in with her power itself. She can't just turn anything into a weapon. It has to be something valuable to her. The more valuable, the more powerful. War feels better when there is a greater cost. The more you sacrifice and invest in the battle, the better it feels to finally win. There is even the satisfaction of manipulating someone to care about you and then betraying them. War without threat, pain, consequences, and loss is the worst kind of war. She doesn't want an easy win she wants a bloodbath that goes on for centuries.

Again, much like makima, she is addicted to Chainsaw Man because of the power he possesses. On the outside, Makima wants to lose to him and submit herself to a greater power while Yoru wants to beat him and prove she is indeed the strongest and greatest devil. But on the inside, it's literally the inverse. Makima needs to win so that she can be in control and Yoru needs to lose to keep up the war.

Tldr; they're all confused. Death wants to die. Control wants to be submissive. Famine wants to suffer. War wants to lose. One way or another, their own narcissism makes them failures.

[streets-in-paradise]

His Weakness - Achilles x (Fem)Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Warnings: Injury, brief description of healing practice.

Summary: Achilles is taking care of you after you injured your heel and the situation iniciates a talk on the legend about his only weakness.

Note: For the medical part, i tried to make it as accurate to the period as possible through what i remember of the descriptions of medicine found in the iliad.

Tags: @zoegarfield

Racing across the landscape of the myrmidons was so much fun, but it could be dangerous for reckless racers that didn't know the grounds as well. Phtia was a rocky territory, but you were so used to run carefreely on your old homeland that you didn't entirely acknowledged the difference. The result was a fall that put end to the amusement as Achilles rushed in aid of you before Patroclus could claim the victory. He felt very bad for challenging you despite the wise advice of his cousin, but you didn't allow the sweet lad to take any guilt.

Pain aside, being carried back by your beloved hero felt very nice. He held you in his arms to ease the scare of the fall and although you tried to play tough for him, it was evident that you had trouble with your left foot and he didn't let you take one more step.

Laying on his bed for further inspection later revealed that the source of stronger pain was a badly bruised heel hurting you whenever you tried to stand up. Used to see way worse in the wounded from battle, he probably knew it was something you would recover from giving healing time to the injury. With proper rest, you would be alright in a week. However, in the meantime you would be in pain and very bored, so he wanted to be the one in charge of making you feel better.

Achilles loved you too much to stand your great discomfort without trying every measures he had available to help to go through it. Keeping you company, playing the lyre to help you relax, or telling you stories while staying in bed with you so you would fall asleep to the sound of his voice and the heat of his body.

Despite you would insist in wanting to do it yourself, he allways ended up applying the wet cloth on the wound and giving you the calming drugs to ease the painfull inflamation. The lovefull respect for your temporary fragility would have shocked anyone among the people who didn't know him for real. Those who used to see him as a fighter beast wouldn't believe their eyes regarding his caregiver performance. His hands knew how to inflict and calm pain giving death or caresses with the same amount of skill.

After finishing the task, he was carefully drying your skin when an ironically cute thought occured to you that you simply couldn't keep to yourself.

" Can you believe that, from all the chances for damage, I had to hurt my heel? " You commented to him. " Now we share a weakness, no one can deny we are meant to be. "

Achilles chuckled and your glances briefly meet.

" Where did you got that from? Didn't you hear they call me the swift-footed? You are mine, but we aren't bonded by the heel. "

" There is a local legend that the myrmidons whisper to each other, a secret they believe to be protecting. " You recalled in a mysterious tone. " Eudorus told me about it, they say that when you were a baby your mother inmersed you in the waters of the river Styx and that made your skin invulnerable to the wounds of bronze. Given that she was supposedly holding you by the heel, this is the only spot of your body that remains mortal and your preference for closed footwear has fed that rumour. "

He should have guessed that it was going to be a matter of time untill you would bring that up.

" Each city you go, they have made up a different idea of what may kill me. " He answered in a mock. " I'm like the minotaur, or the hydra. The fear I inspire forces people to invent mystical ways of feeling in control of their fright. They all believe they have found my weak spot, but nobody trully knows of my true human weakness. "

" Can you please stop comparing yourself to monsters?" You interrupted him. " You frightening, beautifull man. In your hands I feel blessed even in sickness. "

Still delicately holding your exposed leg, he placed a soft kiss in the front of your ankle.

" I'm so weak for you … Can't you tell? " He purred, teasing you. " The messengers of Agamemnon could come ríght now asking me to follow them to war, and I wouldn't leave your side not even if I would be told to be paid with lands and a share of the treasure as big as his. No fighting untill you would be back on your feet, nothing can get me away from you when i know you need me. "

He made you giggle in pure enjoyment of his love.

" Very beautifull, but not compelling for the legends. " You sweetly corrected. " When people invent a hero, they wouldn't expect him to list his lady as his mythical weakness. It's not attractive in symbolic terms. "

Achilles wasn't very concerned about the observation.

" That's why they will never guess it. "

With that, he resumed his playfull kissing in a road going up over the skin of your leg. You could tell he guessed you were starting to feel better, or otherwise he wouldn't have seeked for that sort of intimacy so suddenly.

[tumblingxelian]

Chloe & Heroism

Chloe Bourgeois as a hero early on is a premise that often evokes either questions, like "How" and "Why". Or expectations that she is either already on a path to self improvement, or will be forced onto within a short timeframe.

These are not bad questions and the former definitely are necessary to consider for a story. However the expectations I tend to feel a bit murkier and while I have no issue with how some authors handle this topic.

I want to outline why I think you could do a good "Hero Chloe" story before she gets character development, but first, house cleaning!

1: I have not watched and largely ignore everything post season 3, so don't bother bringing up Derision. Remember, season 1 Kim was afraid of spiders.

2: In canon. Chloe only revealed her ID publicly because her abusive mother she is obsessed with pleasing (who killed her the day before) chose a girl other than her to take to New York & then tore her to shreds in front of everyone. 

With all that in mind let's examine where Chloe's values and understanding of the world comes from and how she perceives them! 

1 - Media/Social Media 

This would be a mixed bag, because on one hand they have Mighty Majesta comics that try to instill good values, but also shows built around lying to and humiliating people are evidently popular television and the internet seems similar in regards to pranking VS trying not to be terrible. So she's gonna get mixed signals at best. 

2 - Her family & Circle 

This is where 90% of the problems come from. Of the important adults in her life, her father, mother, Gabriel and Nathalie are all varying shades of corrupt, abusive, cruel and ruthless, while the lesser evils like Jean and Emilie are largely consigned to the role of enablers. 

Worse still, even if we ignore the emotional abuse, neglect and other elements that led to her both having trauma and her trauma response manifesting in aggression. We still have issues like Andre, during the brief periods he bothered to parent, explicitly teaching Chloe that, Stealing, extortion and threats are all appropriate ways to succeed in life.

IE, she isn't compromising her morality when she does these things, she is very much doing what she is taught was right at least consciously. This isn't helped by a 24/7 Audrey impression as Audrey deems being in her vicinity as reason enough to hurt people unless she deems them useful. 

Long story short, the values and people she was brought up around are all explicitly some shade of bad, or enabler, or outright teaching her to harm others. 

3 - Societies & Class 

However, we know from season 2 that Chloe is not entirely unaware that there are issues with this. Because while she spends much time boasting of how she's beloved and brilliant, when stripped of that and exposed to someone she trusts she is entirely willing to confess that she knows everyone hates her and that she feels she has no worth. She may not be able to articulate why or how this came about but she knows something is wrong. 

Despite this, school is not the best place to figure this out, especially for someone who obviously struggles with social cues and the like. The teachers run the gamut from indifferent and unpleasant, to extremely gentle and accommodating, to simply not wanting any form of drama and usually caving to whoever makes the most noise and none of them have the authority to do much outside of class hours. 

The class is not significantly better, because students like Kim and Alix can and do casually throw around snark or do pranks and at worst only get brief bursts of anger while Chloe's garner a more intense response. This is because her relationship with the class and motives are varying shades of different, but for someone with issues reading social cues, it's just going to seem like a confusing double standard. 

We can also see all this demonstrated in her relationship with Adrien, as Chloe clearly takes the lead in their relationship in Origins and outlines her logic behind the pranks, but is then surprised when Adrien seems to turn against her. What's more, it seems Chloe is aware that Adrien is more gentle/naive than her given she tried to educate him on these matters & turns to him for comfort and protection at times, while seeing no inherent contradiction between her expectations for their relationship and how she treats others.

Adrien does not help matters with seeming indifference to how she treats staff. 

Thus, while she knows 'something' is terribly wrong, actually being able to understand it and work through it is another matter. 

4 - Chloe's Conclusion 

So, what is the conclusion Chloe comes to in order to square all of these circles when she isn't just in full denial mode? The answer is quite simple and even demonstrated in the show itself, playing one's role. 

IE, Chloe the mayor and style queen's daughter is different to Chloe the hotel owner's daughter and we see this in her being able to stamp down on her usual instincts and slap on a customer service role when Jagged Stone enters the hotel and guide her father into doing the same. VS how she conducts herself during a class election, IE explicitly threatening and extorting people, to how she conducts herself day by day with her Audrey impersonation. 

A separate example and way she'd view this for others would be that Marinette the baker's daughter of course has to be nice and sweet and giving because that is how customer service roles work, while Marinette the aspiring fashion designer or would be class president is sneakier and will lay traps so people trying to steal from her are sabotaged. This isn't wrong, this is how she expects people to behave when in these circumstances and roles. 

Final Conclusion 

Which is why Chloe could easily play the role of a successful hero, because she would not be "Chloe Bourgeois, mayor's daughter, hotel heiress and Style Queen's daughter" as Queen Bee, she would just be Queen Bee, a superhero.

They have wonderfully defined roles that would be easy for her to pick up & follow through on: assure the public, save people from danger, protect allies, defeat monsters, all things Chloe was shown doing very well when chosen as a Miraculous Holder. 

I think that eventually the contrast in how she is received as Queen Bee VS Chloe Bourgeois would start grinding on each other and bleeding through both sides of the mask. 

But the infectious nature of empathy and a larger support network that don't have the worst impression of her would give Chloe the room she needs to explore and grow.

If she is too snippy as a hero, or shows a ruthless side, these won't be taken in the context of "Chloe that person I dislike" but "Queen Bee my ally" and can allow for more honest and even handed reactions that give her the necessary breathing room to grow and change. 

So yeah, I think season 1 Chloe could have, under the right circumstances, done a great job as a hero be it Queen Bee or another hero even before any outside circumstances or internal changes might have forced her to chart a new course in life.

Provided the role of Chloe and the role of hero do not intersect and become one almost immediately, because in that case it gets a lot harder for her.