#obviously it's different kinds of loss but
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
sp1d3rzz · 1 day ago
Text
Pervert!Midoriya
final / pt.3
Tumblr media
pt.1 pt.2
WARNING !! : Virginity loss, mean!reader, blowjobs, PiV unprotected, slight dick desc, cum swallowing, cowgirl position, swearing. Lemme know if I missed anything!
Summary : When your grades drop extremely low and leave you with a bad reputation, you decide it's up to that stupid dork Izuku to tutor you. Oh, a maybe ruin his virginity too.
A/N : A long ass wait, I hope you'll forgive me! (^ー^) Love you all, and happy late New Years!!!
Tumblr media
Never in a million years would Midoriya ever think that this day would come.
The day when you came to him after class and shoved your paper in his face with a big fat 'F' in the corner, ranting on and on about how much your reputation is at risk when you are getting shitty scores on tests and practically failing every exam.
It seems to go on for about another 30 minutes until you look him in the eyes and tell him not ask, tell him, "You're gonna tutor me so all of my hard work doesn't go for nothing, loser."
He remembers how sharp your eyes were that day when you pressed your pointer finger against his chest and made him swear on how he wouldn't let you fail. Claiming you'd make his life even more of a shit show if he let you down.
So of course, he's frantically nodding as he swears he would never let that happen! Sure, you two have had your differences, but maybe this could fix the relationship you and him had. And if not, he's just glad you're willing to let him keep the already toxic bond you share and not make it any worse.
Ultimately, you both end up at his house, sitting on his strangely clean floor as he explains how each problem is somehow related the next in the most complicated way possible. It twists your brain just right in some inhumanly fashion that you haven't experienced since you actually cared for your education.
One stupid math problem leads to another, and you quickly find yourself getting bored. Your eyes linger on to his pretty pink lips as he blabbers on about some random subject you don't bother to listen to. Each word that leaves his mouth has you a little more fixated on him. It especially leaves you in a trance when he presses his lips together nervously, catching your obvious stare and wondering if he'd done something wrong.
"Is... everything okay?" he speaks up, the hesitation in his voice so obviously showing. You can't help but roll your eyes and snatch the sheet of paper out of his hands, already tired of supposed tutoring. "This is boring!" you slam the paper on the floor, which Midoriya pathetically flinches at. "You can barely get a sentence out without stuttering or avoiding eye contact! Have you even talked to women outside of me?"
He doesn't know why, but your words hit him harder than usual. Sure, he's never been the luckiest with women, let alone have a relationship above friends... but he could if he wanted to! He's doesn't know the lines of unattractive or attractive, but he knows he isn't ugly enough for girls to not even look at him.
It takes him a few seconds of silence to reply, debating on a good comeback. "I-I have... There's plenty of females who I talk to." Even with a lie as obvious as that, he doesn't expect you to burst out into laughter, hands clutching at your stomach as you wheeze and gasp for air.
Sweat beads form on his forehead, and his face goes red with embarrassment. He watches in humiliation as you try and settle yourself down, somehow becoming infatuated with the way yours crinkle with joy, and the way your teeth show brightly to light up your face. Suddenly, he feels his body temperature spiking up, warm from how flushed he is.
Once you finally calm down, your eyes flicker back up to him. He's watching you intently, fingers fidgeting with themselves as he waits for your next word. You find it amusing, really, with how patient he manages to remain with you even after all the tormenting things you do to him. Maybe— just this once... you can be a little more appreciative of his kindness.
Slowly, you pick yourself up from your sitting position and get on all fours to crawl to him. His eyes go wide and he bites his bottom lip, and you can tell he's anticipating what's about to happen. "Y'know.." you begin, "I'd be willing to show you what a woman does when she likes a man."
Midoriyas jaw drops open as you get closer to him. His brain goes mushy when he can feel your warm breath tickle his skin, reminding him just how close you are. His breathing gets heavier, and he swallows down his nervousness.
It suddenly feels like the worlds going to stop on him in any moment when your hand inches towards the layer of fabric above his leg. "What do you m-mean?" But you know he isn't dumb. It's clear he understands your intentions since you've seen the shit he writes and reads about. Who knows what he's watching behind closed doors.
"We're gonna fuck. Or do you not want to?" You state it so bluntly, Midoriya thinks you've gone crazy. Its always been you teasing or making fun him, putting him down and setting a clear boundary between you two. Now here you are, claiming you want to have sex with him!
His eyes shoot down to your hand and then back up to meet yours. Panicking, he decides on blurting out whatever he can think of. "I never said that! It's just that well you caught me off guard and I've never done this sort of thing so–"
"Shut up before I change my mind!" you cut his nervous rambling off irritably. Silencing, he nods his head slowly, afraid of screwing this up any further. He's only seen what happens in the stupid pornos he watches, so he hesitates on what to do. But when he catches a glimpse of your impatient face, he mutters a quiet "sorry" for the wait and quickly tackles his fingers with his waist band to push it off his hips.
And when he does, you eyes widen at the sight of his boner, not expecting him to be as big as he was. It twitches under the thin material of his boxers as you hungrily stare, begging to be freed from its confinement. You don't waste any time, reaching to pull down the front of the fabric. His meaty cock springs up and bounces with release, making you ogle at the sight.
Despite not being a mathematician, you estimate a total length of 5.7 inches and a girth a little below half of that. Long and angry veins lead up to his blushed red tip, which already leaks pre-cum. A small patch of green hair covers below the base, matching the messy patch he has on his head. Naturally, a pool of saliva pools in your mouth as you take in the sight before you.
Midoriya watches you keenly as you admire his length, blushing when you look back up at him. "So this is what you've been hiding from me, huh?" you tease, and he waves his hand in front of his face as he rapidly shakes his head, sputtering out whatever he can to deny or defend your accusation.
While he isn't paying attention to what's happening below him, you lean down to place the flat of your tongue on his tip. Almost instantly, he lets out an unexpected whine and bucks his hips forward, pushing more than just the tip past your lips. The heat of your mouth, overwhelming him, quickly sends him off the edge. Pathetically enough, he might not last as long as he thought he would.
You smirk to yourself at his reaction and press forward, placing your hands on his thighs as you swallow him whole. Your wet mouth coats his dick easily, making it easier to take him. A slutty moan echoes throughout the room, and he quickly slams his own hand against his mouth. His panting escalates through the muffles past his fingers as you bring your head up and down on his cock. Your tongue drags along his base from each bob of your head, memorizing the veins that decorate it.
His hand falls from his mouth and finds its place in the roots of your hair, tangling it between his fingers. "Shit— feels s-so– good!" he whimpers, grinding his hips to the rhythm of your bobbing. The gagging sounds you make when his tip hits the back of your throat makes warmth rush to his face. He swears he's never felt anything better than this.
The hand that's taken place in your hair tightens, and he lets his mouth fall open, only shaky moans and cries leaving him. He finds it incredible how you haven't come up for air yet, only breathing through your nose like a professional. And the way you take his whole cock like it's nothing proves his point.
It isn't long before he can feel himself about to cum, lengthy moans slipping out as he grinds lazily into your mouth. You take notice of this, sloppily finishing him off and picking up the pace in which you take him. "I'm gonna— fuck!" He pushes your head down to where your nose brushes his pubes, ramming his cock deep enough to knock past your uvula. His eyes close tightly as his warm cum washes into your mouth, clenching his teeth roughly together.
Once his fingers untangle from the crown of your head, you quickly swallow his cum and push yourself up to breath. As soon as you're able to sit up, you gasp and take in as much air through your lungs as you can. "How the hell do you–" cough "cum so much.." You complain, shooting him a glare. Midoriya is practically passed out, leaning back with his cock slapped against his abs as he pants tiredly.
" 'M sorry," He whines, peaking one eye open to look at you. Even with droplets of his cum on your face and now messed up hair, he still thinks you look breathtakingly gorgeous. "It just felt so good and I couldn't help myself. Are you... o-okay?"
Scoffing at his worries, you push a loose piece of hair behind your ear and rest your eyes for a moment. "Fine. At least you gave me somewhat of a warning." And he might be overly exhausted from the earth shattering orgasm he just had, but he swears he can see a small tint of blush form on your cheeks. The thought of you having somewhat of an attraction to him makes his stomach go weak. Can such a thing really happen?
When he goes to close his eyes again and take a breath, he hears you stand up and begin removing something from your body. His eyes open up out of curiosity and he's met with you removing your pants and underwear. "W-wait, I thought we were done—" he pauses when he catches sight of your pretty pussy, slowly being revealed as you strip free from your panties.
Heat rushes to his face again as you walk back over to him and sit yourself down with two knees outside of his legs. He doesn't even notice his cock spring back up to life as his eyes take you in. "I said I was going to fuck you, didn't I?" The tease in your voice has him growing in desperate need of you once again, and he can do nothing but nod and let you take the lead.
You scoff and shake your head, hand grabbing his dick below you and aligning it with your hole. Midoriya sucks in a breath and watches as you let your hips slowly fall down so his tip brushes your clit. "Shit–" you shakily breathe, grinding your hips back and forth to swipe your pussy along his cock.
He whimpers needingly as his hands find the fat of your hips, giving him something to hold onto. You do the same, resting your arms around his neck when you finally slip his leaking tip into your warmth. The both of you moan in sync from the pleasure, pressing your bodies closer together. "I'm not sure it'll... fit." You admit embarrassingly, biting the inside of your lip as you cautiously lower yourself.
He anxiously waits for you to fuck him, so he can finally feel the walls of your cunt. And when you bring your body down and let him stretch you out, he shamefully cries out your name, pleading for you to warm his cock. "Needa' feel you! Please, I need to feel more!". You grumble back a snarky comment, but decide to get it over with.
The weight of your ass hits his thighs and you let out a lewd moan, similar to one of the porn star Midoriya likes so much. His girthy length splits you open entirely, hitting your cervix harsh enough to leave bruising for at least the next few days. He impatiently rolls his hips into you, whimpering random nonsense to try and keep himself from finishing too quick.
As soon as you adjust to his size enough to keep going, you begin to drag yourself up and down on him. The heat of your pussy invites him in sensibly, gummy walls being stretched each time you bounce on him. It doesn't go unnoticed by how wet you are already, letting him glide in and out of you easily. "You're so— fuck.." His thick fingers squeeze your skin, bound to leave marks you'll see in the morning. "So so so so good." He whines, face flush with euphoria.
You don't hesitate to start riding him faster, tits bouncing against him under your shirt. The familiar feeling of his stomach tightening approaches him once more, making him groan. Your skin meets his as you push your ass up and down on him, feeling your own orgasm begin to rise in you.
Sweat forms one body, exhaust briefly catching up to you as you ride him like your life depends on it. His cocks plunges into you so sweetly, making you unable to hold back a single moan as it hits the spongey wall in you. It has you gasping with each puncture it deals on you.
The whole room is filled with slutty sounds and wet slapping, seemingly like a porn video. It feeds into the sex perfectly, only bringing him to finish sooner. "Im so close! Please— don't stop!" Midoriya gasps, shutting his eyes tightly to let the feeling of pleasure take over him.
You take notice of the way his cock twitches inside of you, begging to spill his cum into your walls. Digging your fingers into his shoulder, you let out a string of moans before letting your orgasm rush through you and make you cum riding him.
Pants leave your lips as you grind yourself on him, rocking out the pleasure on his body to ease yours before pushing your sore knees up slightly so his dick can be free from your pussy. It separates from you with a small pop! sound, leaving you empty once again. The sight of him jerking his hips into the air as his cum spurts from his slit and onto his chest with a somehow cutely fucked out face, leave you wishing for another round.
The atmosphere seems to settle down after awhile as the two of you rest against each other, calming yourselves down from your session. "You're a pathetic fucking pervert, you weirdo." You smack his shoulder with your remaining strength, mumbling curses on your breath.
But before he can say anything, or make some half ass witted reply, your soft snoring cuts him off. Midoriya can't help himself when he softly smiles, because truthfully, he knows deep down you care for him.
187 notes · View notes
aihoshiino · 2 days ago
Note
Ah, I have figured out how Tumblr works, sorry I'm new here :P
What do you gather was the final conclusion to how Aqua felt about Ai? Did he see her as his mom? Idol? Have a crush on her? I don't know if even Akasaka knew himself.
Also found it interesting how the two non-family people Ai seemed comfortable opening up to were Gorou and Gotanda... she latched on to those old men quickly.
I'd actually say that Aqua's arc in relation to that aspect of his complicated feelings towards Ai was one of the things that early OnK did really well! It's a big part of why I was so confused and ultimately let down by the way OnK handles Ruby's surfacing feelings for Gorou -> Aqua because we had already seen that the story could do a really interesting examination of this exact issue - past life attachment causing a surfacing of romantic feelings in a relationship that should otherwise be purely familial - and bring it to what I felt was a pretty satisfying conclusion. That said, the conclusion Aqua comes to is kind of understated, so I get that it doesn't jump out at people as obviously.
Basically, to start with, I think it is clear that Aqua has some confusedly Oedipal feelings mixed up in his relationship with Ai purely as the result of inheriting Gorou's gachikoi attraction to her and that this undercurrent lingers even as he forms a more solid relationship with her as himself and her son. But it doesn't really get a chance to surface and become something Aqua himself is in a position to interrogate until he is put face to face with ""Ai"" again in a romantically charged context. In fact - interestingly, he doesn't seem to consider for a second that he might be having dokidoki sorts of feelings about Aikane until Mem and Yuki start trying to push it on him and even then...
I guess this is my One beef with how the anime handles this part of the story because I think it kind of accidentally gives Aqua's response a very different vibe in its version of events. Compare and contrast these two expressions:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not only does Aqua look way more like... genuinely dismayed and even a little distressed at what's going on, but he's even being crowded by everyone at this moment. Whereas in the anime, he just looks more straightforwardly flustered.
Obvs after this he scurries off to go have his hangout sesh with Kana and ends up putting to bed the idea that he was romantically interested in Akane (at that moment in time, anyway) but interestingly, his conclusion that his feelings for Aikane aren't "like that", i.e, romantic also seems to be the implicit conclusion to the idea that he has any feelings of those sort of Ai, too.
Past LoveNow, while Aqua's feelings about Ai continue to be very intense, we never again get any of the Oedipal undertones that were more apparent prior to that point. And in fact, the next time we see Aqua's feelings for Ai zoomed in on in this way, the embodiment of Aqua's grief for her is Aqua himself as a little boy who just desperately wants his mom back.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In other words, the grief and loss Aqua feels for Ai is for her as his mother.
As for the Ai part of this ask, I don't think Gorou and Gotanda are necessarily unusual in that regard...? It's part of a pretty consistent pattern of Ai opening up to people surprisingly fast when she thinks they have the capacity to understand or accept her, or just like. Show her any basic human kindness whatsoever LOL.
We see this in Viewpoint B with Kyun where all it takes is a little gentle prodding from Kyun for Ai to pour her heart out about some genuinely personal stuff and that talk meant enough to Ai for her to consider Kyun her closest friend for years afterwards. She really is just that intensely lonely and that eager to put her heart into someone's hands the instant they so much as imply they might treat it gently. Or even just that they want it. She's not well!!!!
21 notes · View notes
themyscirah · 8 months ago
Text
Complaining abt Suicide Squad yet again but the fact that they have Waller exposing the alien community to space racist attacks and talking abt how she got to her position through deceit and being a terrible person and stuff is just. Ahsfiwueh JUST SAY YOU DONT KNOW WALLER.
Anyways literally the 3rd mission of the Squad ever (and the first framed as smth Waller picked and not orders from above) was the Squad discrediting and stopping a rogue vigilante who was only arresting POC and funneling white people into white supremacy groups (of which he was the most prominent member) in SUICIDE SQUAD #4. and it's explicitly framed as this mission being personal for Waller that she's hiding from the government bc its illegal like. Guys. Please why are we having her incite (space bc comics) racist attacks now
Also the whole "Amanda got her position through deceit and being a terrible person" NO. she KEPT her position through being shitty and playing complicated political games!!! She wasn't always that way like there is a difference and it is IMPORTANT ppl PLEASEEEE. In Secret Origins #14 we learn Amanda's backstory and she used to be a normal, caring person! Like even after she entered into working in government and politics she wasn't automatically morally bankrupt like please people. She was originally given control of the Squad by Reagan (*sigh* 80s comics...) to distract and get rid of her because she was so successful at pushing progressive social policy in Congress. Acting like she's this static pillar of evil is such a waste of her character and so fucking uninteresting and disrespectful to her arc it drives me MAD.
Like I am NOT saying Waller is all sunshine and rainbows, she fucking SUCKS (said w love <3) but like there's a human being there. It's a progression, she has a character arc like please, DC, please!!! They've fucked up Waller so bad and made her so opaque and uninteresting she can't even be the protagonist of her own story for fucks sake!
Like I don't know how many times I have to scream it until DC hears me or remembers but WALLER IS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF SUICIDE SQUAD. ITS HER BOOK. yet right now she's a cutout to be used as the villain wherever the writers please. Even in her book we get none of her perspective really displayed, no exploration of her thoughts with any kind of understanding of the role she traditionally has played and was made to play in the story.
#its like youre unable to root for her in any form. which is annoying bc shes actually awesome actually#also having her say “actually im the good guy fuck you'' w/o any actual deep analysis of her psyche or whatever while doing these things#doesnt count as development or showing shes 3 dimensional. its just having 2 dimensional waller say shes right when everyone is obviously#supposed to believe shes wrong#anyways i want real waller back please i miss herrrrrrrr#anyways hope mr john ridley has read secret origins no 14. i know its from 1987 but please guys please. my only hope#also it was a few months ago but i think they tried to push certain elements of a diff backstory in dream team and sorry but fuck that. and#any mention of another waller background like my eyes are closed sry. im a preboot truther#actually im just ignorant of most squad comics outside the original series. im gonna do a readthrough and become knowledgeable on other#stuff i just need to find time. so if im wrong then sorry if its smth factual and if you disagree with my opinion then uh sorry for ur loss#anyways shoutout to the time i had a nerd night w my one friend and she was asking me abt dc and said my favorite villains and i said waller#and silver swan. and she had a “yuck WHY” to waller and a ???? to silver swan. love shouting out my faves and explaining them to the less#informed. didnt say a number 3 but would probably be parallax ig. idk hes kind of slay. or maybe someone else honestly i like hal but waller#and nessie are blorbo level for me i could think abt them for hours#or maybe it wouldnt be parallax actually idk who my 3 would be. hes definitely up there but way below the other 2. maybe the cheetah#interpretation that i personally have. v different from the popular cheetah interpretation esp rucka vers actually. much closer to the pérez#and esp develops some subtext there surrounding barbara and the exploitation and theft of sacred cultural artifacts and pieces but also#like british colonization a lil bit#but i actually despise the cheetah that lives in my head but think shed be interesting to use narratively and see diana fight#vs the other guys who i find interesting and sympathetic and like for themselves#whereas my fave interpretation of cheetah can rot in hell#i got off topic here#blah#swishy rant#also disclaimer that w the main character ik dreamer is the main character of dream team. im talking more in general and that amanda should#always have a huge role as shes the main character of the squad and yet is treated like its villain and not its protag#sui sq
96 notes · View notes
lisbonsteresa · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
#tm#thinking several things. none of them coherent.#it's wild that this season starts with her stance pretty much being 'i'm the actual cop here. i can handle the danger. (i'll protect you)'#(and that continues here obviously) and then the season ends w/ (...*part one of the finale has) her in the most danger she's been in so fa#kind of similar to 6.01 where she insists on dealing with red john like any other suspect and then she gets into 'the most danger she's...'#and it's not so much that she's being....punished by the narrative for thinking/dealing with things in that way#(although there are shades of that i guess you could kind of read it that way too)#it's just red john is NOT like any other suspect he's not even like the worst suspects she's dealt with he's just on a different level#also wild that her version of fixing this is at great (professional and personal really) loss to herself#they said 'never forget; lisbon is an eldest sibling (eldest daughter at that)#idk it hurts to see her do it and take the punishment so naturally but i do appreciate that they never let you forget how#that informs her as a character that's great for me personally#meanwhile that little blonde moron (affectionate) is over there again like 'i don't want you in danger' 'i don't want lose you'#he's EXHAUSTING but ON THE OTHER HAND this makes me crazy too because like#he's the civilian here and he KNOWS he's the civilian and the show makes sure YOU know HE knows#he is not a 'stay in the car' [immediately leaves the car to come help in the fight] kind of civilian#(like he IS but not in this way...you get it)#he runs away from fights; he shrinks and cowers when threatened/seeing a weapon; he still gags and uses a hanky at some bodies#like he's just a GUY and he fully embraces that and yet STILL#his first instinct - demonstrated most physically in the s1 finale and....most of s7 but verbally/emotionally throughout#is to protect her; in whatever way he can#and most times that's lying to her; keeping secrets; going off and doing stupid shit; putting himself at risk without telling her anything#but that's ok in his book (....maybe not ok but it's better)#him hurting her is one thing; it's something he might be able to come back from; he can work towards her forgiving him#(even if he does a piss poor job of it sometimes alskdj)#but her getting hurt because of him is not something he can fix; it's something neither of them might come back from#and no matter how strong and capable and smart (and amazing and pretty we get it you're in love with her) he thinks she is#he can't risk her getting hurt....so sometimes he hurts her instead#just kind of....spiraling over them. doing great. clearly.
32 notes · View notes
bonewicca · 4 months ago
Text
more 🛌
1 note · View note
itsalwaysdark · 4 months ago
Text
i wish there was a way for me to likeee. semi change this one thingin this one mod. but 1 im not a modder 2 i feel like thats disrespectful. i just want sort of an inbetween between the game and this mod but that is not a thing that exist... sigh
#NOT COMPLAINING ABT THE MOD just personal preference im not saying the mod bc i dont want it seen as an attack but basically i like mods#that add a bit more realism while also keeping some stuff yfm... like 4 example Random example unrelated i like the idea of Having to decid#what to do with the remains of a dead sim and having the body stick around but i also like having the grim reaper appear.... so in my ideal#death mod the sim dies and then the grim reaper shows up to like. take their soul but the body stays. im not a modder so idk how possible..#also ig that kind of doesnt fully make sense since the ghosts r still afoot so ig itd just be him severing the connection btwn the body and#soul right. not taking anything... which i suppose is what he does in the basegame is he severs the connection and then takes the body w/#him. which is kind of funny. whats he need that for is it just courtesy or is he doing smtg w/ them. bc ik you get the gravestone/urn when#they die and those r the remains but like. ? he just like. conjures those doesnt he. body vanishes and then those appear. does he just#rearrange the atoms of the body into those things. bc i dont subscribe to the idea that he actually digs a hole for the corpse idt theres#anything down there bc u cn put a basement right under a grave and no issues. so i think he magics the bodies away and then either somehow#transforms those bodies into the appropriate grave marker (unclear on if theres even actually ash in the urn like is that mentioned. OR he#takes them leaves the urn and gravestone and then just has the bodies to do whatever with. WHATS HE DOING !!! is it a nice like Ill just#handle this so they dont have to (presumptuous. caring for a body is a rly important thing in many cultures and it can be a great way to#process a loss for some ppl (not all obviously. grief is very personal this is one of my autism things sry)) but ig in simnation society it#isnt that important Evidently. but idk... either hes taking them as a favor to help out/soften the blow bc obv nobody Likes seeing the grim#reaper olive sit down. connor sit down. so hes like well ill handle this. or is it something more nefarious WHTS HE DOINGG tell me. i think#funny to imagine he just teleports the body elsewhere ik he prolly just destroys it but its kind of awesome to imagine theres a giant magic#crematorium and like. a columbarium. idk why i assume cremation itd just save space in his. realm? i he has a realm. if i were him and i#didnt have a realm id be kinda pissed id call the watcher and be like heyyy um... yk. but ya i think thats cool bc i love lands of the dead#gotta be one of my favorite things (autistic) and i think its just cool to imagine a place where the remains of every person whos ever live#r kept. be that their soul as is traditional or their literal remains in this case. isnt that kind of cool.. love it. but again we probably#arent supposed to rly think abt it he prolly jut vaporizes them into nothing. i just wanted to have fun... bring a positive sort of vibe.#anyways. i would like to be able to have The body just bc i think thats cool and i think itd be awesome to have a mod that adds in more#grieving practices from around the world but obviously thatd be like. HUGEscale bc there are a millionnn different ways to grieve. and its#all so interesting to learn abt. read from here to eternity. by caitlin doughty. smiles <- it doesnt cover Everything obv but it talks abt#lot of stuff from around the world in a rly respectful way and its incredible to read abt and learn. my autism . but i genuinely love#learning abt grief and mourning and funerary practices in other cultures i rly wish that so many practices werent lost to colonization wher#ppl were forced to abandon their way of caring for their dead just bc it seemed ghoulish or barbaric or whathave you to the missionaries et#idk. id put death it up there with food as one of the biggest cultural signifiers...i cant continue the tag limit. wtvr. u get it
0 notes
solelifauna · 4 months ago
Text
Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt.1
When your late mother had a one-night stand with Gotham's richest man, you find yourself at odds and cast aside by your father and his wayward family. Yet, it's only when you find peace that it all comes crumbling down.
TW: Neglect, injury, violence, death
(Y'all, it gets worse in the next post)
Tumblr media
To be adopted by Bruce Wayne was akin to a golden ticket; rare but life-changing. You had been one of those (un)lucky souls who just happened to catch the infamous Bruce Wayne's attention, but not how you’d typically expect. You see, you weren't just some random kid, no, you were the byproduct of a one-night stand between your mother and Brucie Wayne. Of course, you obviously didn't know, and your mother was more than content in keeping who your father was a secret. So for the first 11 years of your life, you lived in ignorance of who your father was. Not that it really bothered you; your mother’s love was more than enough, and as long as you had her you knew you’d be fine. 
Then of course, tragedy struck. Your mother was caught in the crossfire between two rival gangs, a stray bullet lodging itself in the side of her head. You don't know how long you spent crying, cradling her dead body, willing her to come back to life. It wasn’t until police and paramedics had to pull you off your mother, that you realized the gravity of your situation. Without your mother and no father, you’d no doubt be sent into one of Gotham City's many orphanages left to be trafficked and killed. Running away seemed like the best option until a positive paternal DNA match came in for one Bruce Wayne. To say you were dumbstruck is an understatement. Bruce Wayne was your father? The man known for adopting children and loving them as his own was your father? You were both relieved and delighted. You didn't know Bruce Wayne personally, but just seeing the way he treated his other children gave you hope, hope that you could heal with this man and finally know your father.
So when child services dropped you at the manor, a small suitcase in tow and a shy, nervous smile on your face only to be met with poorly hidden annoyance and contempt; to say you were heartbroken would be a disservice to yourself. It was easy to discern that your presence was not welcome and considered a hindrance. Bruce spoke to you disconnectedly, offering a quick apology on the loss of your mother before handing you off to the family butler, Alfred. At least Alfred had the decency to apologize on your father’s behalf, taking his time to talk to you and show you around the manor. You liked Alfred, he seemed kind. It wasn't long until you both ran into one of your other siblings, the eldest brother, Richard or Dick Grayson. He seemed the kindest out of the bunch on tv, so you were hopeful he'd have a different reaction compared to your father. 
Disappointment was your friend once more when Dick gave you a strained smile and conversed with you with fake interest. He left as soon as the opportunity arose. Your other siblings were no different; Jason was rarely ever at the manor and when he was, he certainly didn't bother even acknowledging you (not that you minded, he was scary when he was mad). Tim couldn't care less about your presence, finding annoyance when you’d go up to him and try to converse.
Cass or Cassandra talked to you here and there, never unkind, but you knew you were just an afterthought for her; Stephanie on the other hand initially interacted with you, asking you questions and occasionally sitting and talking to you. It was soon that you realized she was just bored and you were the newest “thing” in the manor. Her interest wore off a week later, her interactions with you now short and dry.
The family as a whole just seemed to disregard you and often stilted their conversation around you. You’d notice the dining room would be filled with laughter and loud talking until you'd walk in; silence would overtake the once lively place as everyone switched to hushed conversations. It’s as if everyone but you knew something you didn't, a big inside secret that bonded everyone together. It wasn’t until you accidentally discovered that Bruce Wayne was Batman and that the rest of your siblings had vigilante alter egos that everything made sense. This had to be why everyone left you out! It was because they had a secret identity to protect and you obviously couldn't know!
You thought that once they knew that you were aware of their nightly activities, things would change for the better, that you’d be included and accepted. If anything, your admission was the worst possible thing you could have done. At least before, some of them had pretended to interact or say something to you. But now that you knew their big secret, they no longer had a reason to maintain their forced fronts and pretend to care (even if it was barely caring). They had bigger, better, more important things to worry about than some random girl who popped up and wasn't even a vigilante. 
But ever the idiot, you still tried. You still craved their love and affection, going out of your way to take gymnastics to impress Dick or take coding classes to try and engage with Tim. You even tried talking to Jason about books, something Alfred had mentioned was dear to Jason. You tried sign language with Cass but she was never around long enough for it to matter. None of your attempts were successful. You didn't even bother trying with Bruce, you knew that the man wanted nothing to do with you. 
The straw that broke the camel's back for you was when your half-brother, Damian Wayne was introduced to the manor. You thought that he'd be met with the same coldness as you, and that you’d finally have someone who was in the same boat as you, someone who'd understand. Boy were you wrong. Damian was met with such a warmth it made your skin itch and your eyes teary. You wanted to throw up, this isn't fair, he doesn't even try and he gets their love and attention, yet here you were begging for scraps. Regardless, you thought that at least you could try again with Damian, he was technically blood-related to you after all. Yet when he pulled a knife on you and almost cut your throat, instead leaving a cut on your cheek down to your jaw, you could only stare at him in shock. 
You expected outrage and at least some sort of punishment for Damian, considering he had attacked you unprovoked and that you had no prior martial arts training, you were just a civilian. Dick only pulled you aside after Alfred had patched you up, you’ll never forget the words he said to you.
“(Y/n), what Damian did was a mistake. He’s had a rough childhood with some very bad people and it's not his fault he reacted this way. I know you're hurting, and I promise that this will be the first and last time this ever happens. Please, forgive him.” Dick said softly and mourningly.
You just let out a quiet “okay” not even focusing on Dick’s words, no, your main point of focus was the large, warm hand tenderly cradling your injured cheek. You didn't even realize how touch starved you really were, practically melting into his palm. You almost verbally protested when he retracted his hand as soon as you said “okay”. He was leaving.
“Thanks (Y/n), we really appreciate it. He's a good kid, I promise, he just needs some love and attention is all. I’ll come around to check on you soon, okay?” He said, moving away from you, obviously distracted.
You just “hmmed” in response. You knew he was lying, he would never come see you after this, and you were partly right. He came around the manor all the time now, but never for you, only for your attacker. Damian never did apologize for attacking you by the way. He just moved on, most likely realizing that you weren't a threat and were not worth his energy. 
Your cheek would still forever be scared though, not that anyone cared.
That's okay though, you honestly didn't want to talk to him anyway. The entire “Damian” incident was forgotten about quickly as the family bonded and had movie nights, patrols, and hangouts that you were not invited to. Well technically you were, but you realized that your presence just ruined the overall mood so you just decided that it was better if you just stayed away. It's fine, you did NOT need them. You had other people in your corner that actually cared so you were fine (not really).
Thankfully, you had convinced Bruce (not that he really cared) to let you stay at your old school and not transfer to Gotham Prep. So you got to keep your friends, the only people who understood your plight at the manor, the only people who cared; it was after this that you decided to stop caring as well. You weren't chosen by Bruce Wayne, you were forced upon him. Wayne Manor was not your home, just a stop along the way.
So, you made your peace.
Then, of course things changed, and now the bat family was starting to turn their interests on you. 
Catching attention in Gotham was never a good thing.
2K notes · View notes
anchoeritic · 4 months ago
Note
girl i need your thoughts on car sex with ellie
warnings: eighteen plus content, minors do not interact. sexual intercourse (obviously), oral sex, vaginal sex (fingering), overstimulation, ellie is a certified & badged munch. ellie is also a top in this i fear.
there’s two different kinds of car sex i see with ellie:
the really desperate kinda sex where your hands are all over each other, kisses are so sloppy that she’s barely catching your lips and all the two of you can do is try to peel each other’s clothes off hastily.
maybe after a party or a night out and you just couldn’t wait to get home so you take it to the car. all ellie’s doing is muttering about how desperate she is just to touch you, feel you against her own body. repeating the same phrases of; “i need you, baby” and the occasional cursing between kisses.
her goal to please you is the first thing on her mind. which probably explains why she’s always trying to unbutton your jeans when the two of you are making out. her lips aim to make you feel good, especially between your thighs. the one place you really needed her the most.
she’d dive between your thighs anytime; day and night. but when she craves you desperately, there’s never a warning. once the first layer of fabric is peeled off, it doesn’t matter if your panties are in the way. she’s not opposed to tasting you through them.
but she prefers to push them aside, says you’re especially sweeter. you wouldn’t know whether to agree or disagree until she’d pull herself back up to kiss you, making you taste yourself off of her lips. sweeter than candy, she always says.
her hair’s a mess from you tugging at it while she was tongue deep inside you, face all shiny from what came after it, and your thighs are shaking violently. but she has yet to stop.
did i mention that she aims to please you?
she wouldn’t stop until you were on the verge of passing out, practically at a loss of words for the immense amount of pleasure she’d put you through. by the time you’re done, not only are the windows foggy but the leather seats are probably sticky too.
but there’s also the type that’s soooooo gentle. ellie taking her sweet time with you, making sure you’re laid back comfortably in the backseat and kissing down your neck.
her touch is soft, holding your hips down so she can leave plenty more kisses down your stomach. when she reaches your waistband, she’d wait for you to nod before continuing.
it’s overall very intimate. ellie likes taking her time with you when she can because she loves to explore your body. she wants to know what you love, what you don’t, what you need. every aspect of you has a story to be told and she wanted to know all of the details.
even if the narrative laid beneath the lace of your panties. she’s a tease, there’s no doubt about it. like a cold thumb pressed up against your clit while her hot lips trailed your inner thighs, or cupping your core and watching as you pathetically tried to rock yourself against her hand. she was quite the tease and she loved to watch you fall for it.
“you that needy for me, baby? can already feel how wet you are,” she’d mumble against your lips, slipping two digits between your wet folds. “so pretty. look at how good you took my fingers,” your moans would be left uncovered, ellie wanting you to be as loud as you could be.
she’s such a lover. one thing about ellie williams is that she is definitely a lover. she loves you and loves giving you pleasure. oh, and she loves praising you.
constantly telling you how pretty you look when your head is thrown back or how good you take her when you’re wrapped around her fingers. she loves to make you feel good about yourself even when you don’t feel it.
and she’d never complain about reminding you. whether it’s telling you or showing you.
1K notes · View notes
inkskinned · 2 years ago
Text
she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let
and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment
and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.
and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment
and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?
to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.
and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.
you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.
#this btw is not including toxic friendships this is legit just something ive experienced MANY times now#writeblr#you ever have a friend in one of those relationships where ur like#u don't HATE their partner explicitly#but ur like. what the fuck y'all#like the weird part of being an adult is that you can't be like . CERTAIN their relationship is toxic#and also if u move too fast or push too hard u can hurt someone who is already in a scary situation so you just are like#frozen there. laughing awkwardly. saying ''haha..... yeah..... couldn't be me....''#and like u can't tell - is this banter or does he actually think like. he's better than her.#all you can do is be there for your friend and hope they wake up to it#or ... that it really IS good#and it's just odd to you#tbh btw id rather have my friends feel safe coming to me if they have a concern about my relationship#like yes it's not ur business but it also IS bc im making u hang out with them and also ur my friend#it's a weird thing to experience as an adult bc it is such a blurry line and when u spend time#around couples that aren't like ACTUALLY ur friends but instead ''extended friend circle'' ur like#.... i don't know y'all well enough and he just called you a cow. and ur okay with that . and i don't know how to respond.#so ur like :) okay. um. go to couple's counselling i think#but also you are NOT supposed to pass judgement so it's like.... this weird limbo of feeling like you SHOULD say something#but knowing you CANNOT#idk that there's a way to resolve it!!!!!!!! it's probably a different approach person to person#edited my tags bc tumblr's new system fucked em up#PS EDIT: btw i should have said:#the pronouns in this can work in any and every direction. every gender and every sexuality and every#type of relationship tbh. even non-romantic relationships where ur like ''what do u mean ur bff calls u stupid''
5K notes · View notes
orionshounds · 4 months ago
Text
as a fierce enjoyer of shadow and sonic’s dynamic, i am deeply interested in how things will shake out in sonic 3, mainly because movie sonic is so different to any other iteration of sonic before
i could go on and on about how interesting sonic wachowski is comparatively....most of the time sonic struggles with his close relationships because, while he loves his friends, he struggles with wanting to be free and feeling tied down to them. this sonic yearns for that stability, he WANTS to be tied down to other people, he wants almost desperately to have a stable place to call home. this is a sonic that is tired of running
shadow has always had a clearly defined past. even if theyve never played it, most sonic fans know the plot of sa2 by heart. it is an amazing story and gives a clear framework for shadow’s character. sonic...has never really had this. sure, certain sonics like sonic satam or underground have more specific pasts, but largely sonic’s backstory has always been kinda nebulous and ive always found that fascinating. to me, shadow is interesting because of his past, sonic is interesting because of his lack of one. this is yet another thing the movie “breaks” about sonics character and its what i believe is going to make such an interesting change to sonic and shadows dynamic
sonic understands shadow’s loss
sure other mainline sonics have experienced loss before, but sonic wachowski has a clearly defined backstory in which he lost someone TREMENDOUSLY important to him....not even just important, he lost his family which is kind of shadow’s whole deal
longclaw was murdered, violently. maria was murdered, violently. both of them witnessed their loved ones dying right in front of them. this sonic wont just empathize with shadow, he understands him on a fundamental level.
now, obviously, they will still have a lot of conflict. shadow is going to lash out at the world for his loss and sonic refuses to let anything happen to his new family. but i cant help but wonder if sonic will try reaching out on that personal level, and what shadow’s reaction will be (i imagine he would reject it, saying that sonic could never understand, but he does. he so painfully does).
the movie’s story has set up such a perfect reflection of shadow in sonic that i have never seen before and i CANNOT WAIT to see play out
512 notes · View notes
galedekarios · 11 months ago
Text
i'm reading a new interview tim downie gave about gale and it offers some of tim's own headcanons about gale, as well as tim's thoughts and insights on gale's character:
Nerds & Beyond: I like that you mentioned that the game is full of rounded characters because they are, they all have different aspects that make them feel real. I adore that Gale specifically is so serious and studious, but at the same time he has this really playful side — he often jokes about how he was a mischievous youth, he encourages other people like Arabella to do so, he understands when The Dark Urge first mentions their violent thoughts. There is a lot of nuance and depth there. But the quality that I love with Gale most is that obviously he is very ill when we first meet him – not that we know immediately – and he’s dealing with a lot of chronic pain. I find him incredibly selfless because he takes that day-to-day head on to help the party, which is an aspect I feel continues to show throughout the three acts. What’s your favorite quality of Gale’s, or what did you take away from him? Tim Downie: It’s so interesting hearing you say that, because I had so many different feedbacks about what people take from the character and sometimes things really surprise you. It’s interesting hearing that such and such has taken that particular aspect, because there are broad things like “He’s funny,” and that’s quite nice, that’s a nice trait, though not one you necessarily get to see that much. It’s so interesting hearing other people’s views about what they take from Gale.  The idea of dealing with chronic pain I found really interesting and an interesting subplot to play, and that was the great thing about doing something like this is that it is so unbelievably nuanced. You have so many layers that just keep going and going and going, as much as we all contain multitudes within ourselves. We all deal with these things, but only certain things pop up to the surface at any given point.  What did I take from Gale, though? I liked his studiousness. I would imagine that he was probably bullied as a kid for it, and he was probably a bit of a joker because he was bullied, and he uses that as a defense. But an even bigger defense for him is “I now know stuff that I didn’t before,” and that’s a power. It’s very similar to when you are being bullied and you’re the funny one – that’s your power, that’s your thing. “I may not be able to hurt you in a traditional sense, but I can say things that will make you feel pain,” which is a very different thing because you physically can’t go after them.  That’s the wonderful thing about acting and this character as well is being able to explore all these things that you might not have, that you might have gone, “I’m not gonna look at that again, I don’t want to deal with that,” and then it brings it up again and it’s like, “Oh, this is actually quite cathartic,” to re-explore these these moments of sorrow and loss and how you deal with grief and things like that and heartbreak and how you get over that.  It’s not all just tears, you do try and make a joke of it.
i really like that they are addressing the topic of gale's chronic pain. it's something that doesn't get addressed often, not even in the game itself.
i also found his answer as to why people might connect to gale very nice:
Nerds & Beyond: Gale is the most popular origin character to play as. What is it about him that you think allows so many different players to connect with him to the depths the fandom has? Tim Downie: I really don’t know. I think you’d have to ask the players that, ‘cause I don’t know, to be quite honest with you. He’s a wizard, and who wouldn’t want to be a wizard at the end of the day? I always say the difference between wizards and sorcerers is that sorcerers just pretend – they just assume they know what they’re doing, but a wizard has really learned this trade. And so there’s that kind of weight of knowledge and learning, which I would love to play as and be for a length of time.  I think it’s also the frailties. I like characters, and a lot of people do I’m assuming, that have flaws, otherwise you’ve made them completely unapproachable. To be completely superhuman or completely extraordinary at something then removes the humanity from it because it becomes like, “Well, that’s never gonna happen.” But when there’s a flaw, when there’s, “Oh, I’ve got that wrong, too,” or like, “My knees hurt” as you say, or “I’ve got a bit of a headache. I really don’t want to do this,” “You’re really annoying me, this is very annoying, could you please hurry up?” or “Stop licking the damn thing,” it’s always those moments that are fun because it shows what we’re all thinking at that point, it removes it from almost archetype and stereotype and it becomes human in a way.
gale is approachable and likeable, has flaws, but is genuinely nice. i think that very much sums up his character.
this bit here made me laugh:
Nerds & Beyond: When you’re talking about those different layers in the humanity building, I think one of the most important aspects in this game is the more “background” or passive dialogue, so dialogue that is prompted in the world and not in the cut scenes.  For instance — the first time I made Gale sneak he immediately complained about his knees, and it was such a real moment where he was just like, “Oh, don’t make me do this. This is not what I’m here for, I’ve got bad knees and I’m not made for this.” Did you have any of those background lines or moments that stick out as being particularly fun to craft?  Tim Downie: I remember the first time I ever had to do waiting, I found it infinitely interesting in so many ways. The idea that I did actually just have to wait and just actually, “Hmm…” Those little things I find really funny because they’re probably the closest to me that the character ever gets. His waiting mannerisms are kind of very English – slightly annoyed and I’m not going to show it to you though because we’re all being very nice, but I’ll do it with a huff and a slightly sarcastic, “Well, that’s great. Another 20 minutes. That’s great.” Those kinds of sentiments I found wonderful and incredibly fun, and funny, to do. 
if you want to read the whole interview for yourself, you can do so here!
905 notes · View notes
mossangelll · 13 days ago
Text
yandere!viktor x reader
machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️
this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me
tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour
Tumblr media
“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.
What a sick fuck.
He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.
“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.
He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.
He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.
The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.
Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?
Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.
He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.
He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.
He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?
“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.
The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.
It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.
Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.
You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.
Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.
Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.
He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”
And sleep you do.
masterlist
200 notes · View notes
takes1 · 1 month ago
Note
Hi hiii :)) your writing is amazing mwah mwah. Perfection.
Anyways just wanted to request a Kageyama x reader, who just happens to be oikawa’s younger sister who is also very into volleyball. People get shocked that she’s Oikawa sister since their personalities are so different but they look somewhat alike (they’re both tall and pretty hahah). Kageyama was watching the girls teams play at the tournament since theirs finished and he kinda got obsessed with the way she plays and obviously reader looked amazing 🤭🤭 so he approaches her after the game not knowing she’s Oikawa’s sister
kageyama flirting w/ tall!ace!reader
*attempting. attempting to flirt in his own unique way. poor thing. also i love you anon and thank you sm!
Tumblr media
warnings. none, sfw
info. kageyama attempting to flirt / tall!reader / ace!reader / oikawa's sister!reader / kageyama being dumb / kageyama crushing on reader / aoba johsai!reader / wingman!hinata / exchange of numbers / potential for a part 2 / 2.6k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests? part two here.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kageyama chose to sit and watch a few more teams play their respective tournament bracket while waiting for their bus to pick them up. It would be a long ride home. He would zone out, rest, and get away from the buzzing, orange fly in his ear then.
Right now, in the middle of Aoba Johsai's last set, he kept on the edge of his seat with a firm brow.
"She's like Azumane," Hinata sighed, about a five minutes behind Kageyama's own observations.
It took not only a stellar performance, but a timeout and penalty because you broke three of Date Tech number 8's fingers with your last spike for Hinata to make that connection.
The penalty costed your team their last two points. You were called off the court for the next 4 minutes, he barely caught your dewy face made of stone. Both audiences were in an uproar- one more justified than the other- but Kageyama had to side with you because he needed to watch you play more. He might not get the chance again.
Number 8 should've taped her fingers. Better yet, she shouldn't have tried to keep blocking you.
You not only knew how to get around it, but the way you worked with your setter, and the unmatched control and strength in your swing made blocks impossible.
"I didn't think this kind of thing happened with the girls," Hinata mumbled, craning over Kageyama to get a look at you off-court.
Kageyama shoved him off and rolled his eyes at the assertion. "Obviously, dumbass."
A smattering of Johsai's male team were taking the hit harder than even you, at the edge of the bleachers.
Oikawa led Watari, Yahaba, and Mattsu, and Hanamaki in their 'Crybaby' chants. They were on their way to earning another penalty for your team, deterred only by Iwa, who was about the only person alive that could successfully shut it down.
Now both of the teams were in a tense battle, both genuinely angry at one another for taking needed players off. It was a rigid one-point dual for minutes.
He had a limited view of you as it played out- tough and stiff as just about everyone working for your team took turns talking to you; Coach, advisor, manager, teammates. Assumedly all "It's not your fault," "Keep your head up," "8 will be alright" and the like. You were their Ace, for sure.
4 minutes was enough time to assume their girls' team would meet the same unfortunate fate as the boys today against Karasuno. It was why all the Johsai guys were leaned over the railing, screaming at every play, because they just couldn't take another devastating loss.
He didn't realize how much they needed you until they let you out, unfortunately timed straight into an even-scored serve.
"(F/n)!!" Oikawa shouted, above the roar of the audience once they all realized you were released and put in the back position.
Kageyama watched you look up- that was your name? How did he know your first name?
The rest of the Johsai team joined him when he cried, "Break it!!"
Your big, pretty grin raised Kageyama to his feet. He had to see this.
Your ritual was silent and rode the time out to the very last second. A sigh of breath on the ball, another good luck spin, then up into a jump--
WHAM!!
A loud, clean, cross-court serve to win the game for Johsai. No volley. Just a brutal, final blow to Date Tech's morale. They sank into the floor as your school flew into a frenzy and celebrated a satisfying victory.
That serve was familiar, but Kageyama didn't get to dwell on its origin too much before Hinata yanked him out of his thoughts.
"You should talk to her!"
He was too close, and he could feel his face warming up, so he shoved Hinata's head to the side and started walking away.
"You clearly like her," Hinata muttered.
A quick turn of his head, with a very mean expression, shut him up- but it didn't help the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and it didn't reduce the truth in Hinata's argument. Just his volume.
No amount of brooding or pride would get him any closer to you. Caught between the choice of rejoining his team or making his existence known, he turned sharp on his heels.
And Hinata knew better than to speak and revel in his victory just yet. Kageyama would probably screw this up.
When they were coming quietly up on Aoba Johsai's designated spot, Hinata scanned the crowd of girls for you, and despite the many distractions, found an interesting twist. Oikawa let you down from a monster hug and it was clear his dark-haired counterpart was too in-his-head to notice.
Kageyama bit a shudder back at the sight of so many people crowded up. He had no real reason to approach you, no connection, no excuse other than the truth.
"I think--,"
"Don't talk to me." Kageyama snapped, short on patience. He pushed his hands through his hair and added, "Don't even act like you know me. Just... be somewhere else."
Hinata pushed a giggly smile down. He split off and decided to pick Iwa's brain for some tips.
Kageyama rubbed his hot face in his sobering absence- he'd have to gather his courage alone.
You were leaned over a bench full of various duffle bags, trying your best to quiet your mind with all the celebration behind you, when a presence broke through your focus.
When you looked up, it wasn't a teammate or one of your brother's friends- it was somebody new. Somebody cute, and tall enough.
"Hi?" You glanced around, but found that he was indeed addressing you with an unbroken stare, "Uh- nice to meet you?"
You weren't nearly as mean as the game made you. You were like Azumane, in the way that you seemed quite kindly when you spoke. You were far prettier, too.
"Hey," He muttered, glancing around for a moment in a dismissive fashion, "That was a good game."
Confusion was evident on your face, but you were grateful for the compliment anyway, "Thank you!"
You went back to packing your bag. He was nothing short of lost, fumbling hard with no desire to be upfront and equipped with no other reason to speak with you.
The proximity granted him the clarity to see that you were taller than he thought. Your face was much softer up close, your smile way cuter than the grimace you wore for most of the game. You were too nice for breaking through so many blocks and scoring so many points.
When you realized he was still standing there, you zipped up your bag and faced him again, grasping at straws for something to say. You glanced at his jacket.
"Oh! You play for Karasuno?"
He evaded your gaze shortly after meeting it. He nodded and put his hands in his pockets.
It wasn't necessarily a call-out; you realized his team had triumphed over your brother's earlier today only right after asking him. He must've been able to avoid suspicion in all the commotion.
"What do you play?" You pressed.
"Setter," He answered a little straighter.
He certainly was a good height. He met your gaze, which was more than you could say for most guys. You clocked him as a perfect stranger to start but as you glanced around his handsome features, you began to piece together those two facts-- something was off.
When you opened your mouth to ask for his name, all that came out was a startled reaction to an arm, heavy around your shoulders.
"Well, well, well!"
You rolled your eyes, "Oh my god..."
"If it isn't The King- here to rub our faces in his false win!"
Kageyama squinted, his nose a little scrunched at the nickname, the insinuation, but most of all the contact in front of him. This wasn't going at all to plan. It was like rock bottom was only getting dug deeper around him.
You shook off Oikawa's arm and, despite having no reason to, defended him, "He didn't say anything like that, Toru. Fuck off."
Oikawa huffed like the big baby he was and crossed his arms over his chest instead.
"He doesn't need to. That's just how he thinks."
"Stop projecting," Kageyama spat. He glanced between you now, wary of the fact that you might be dating.
"How do you know each other?"
You asked Toru, specifically.
When you shifted to look at him, there was a thick intensity to the air between them. It wasn't an enjoyable experience, having to brave the rigid atmosphere by yourself. It was like they needed a room.
"They were on the same team at Kitagawa!" A delightful blur of orange cut in.
After such a demanding, arduous game today, this labyrinth of a conversation and all the odd strangers were getting old, fast. You didn't have a whole lot of time to absorb every bit of information. So they went to the same middle school-- great. That did not explain a damn thing. Now this kid looked familiar, too.
Instead of keeping on that train, you took a big breath to introduce yourself to the shorter guy.
"Nobody asked you."
Your face fell. The ball of sunshine faded in a flash. Now everyone was stiff.
"That was mean." You stated, unable to let it slide after a moment of deliberation.
Kageyama looked shocked, like he either didn't realize what he said was cruel, or he didn't expect anyone to call him out on it. You figured it was the latter, given Hinata's sad, no-retaliation reaction.
"Are you Hinata?" You heard yourself guess. There were only so many 5'3 ginger players here- especially none that caused as much of a stir as him.
Hinata nodded fervently and you grinned with a hand outstretched, "Well, it's nice to meet the legend himself."
Delighted as he was, he didn't take your compliment in the slightest. He shook your hand with two smaller ones and you watched his blush spread right to his ears.
"Legend?! You're the legend! We saw your game- that was so awesome!! How do you put that much BOOM in your spike?! I didn't think--"
You laughed chiefly at the 'Boom,' then at his excited rambling.
When he said 'we,' you glanced to his dark-haired friend and pieced together that they must have been there together. He still looked like he was taking your comment personally.
It truly all fell apart at his feet. Oikawa was talking at him, but he couldn't hear a word. He watched past his shoulder as Hinata took his spot, dazzling you with his stupidity and enthusiasm with so much ease, so quickly. How did you know the runt and not the guy who threw his sets?
The thought occurred to him that he had something to learn from Hinata about talking to girls, but it pissed him off so bad that his expression begged a smartass comment.
"Woah- watch out, ugly. Your face might get stuck like that!" He cackled and jabbed a rigid finger at Kageyama's chest.
He choked when you threw a hard punch at him in the back. Hinata stopped rambling at your show of force and backed up a few steps.
"Stop being so childish! God, you're the fucking worst," You ignored his dramatic gasps of pain and looked right over Hinata's head to nod at his friend, "No wonder he doesn't like you."
Regardless of how mean the other guy was, you knew your brother was deserving of everything you said.
"I'm older than you!" He whined, "Ugh- Shit, that hurt! Don't talk to me like that--,"
It was only in this moment that Kageyama understood your dynamic was nothing to be competitive about. Oikawa was your older brother. As much as it was a cosmic 'Fuck you, Tobio,' he was relieved that your eligibility was up to speculation again. Your likeness to him was now obvious, and not a symptom of any familiarity effect.
"Then start acting like it," You rolled your eyes and ignored the yammering that ensued- you looked to that quiet, pretty boy.
He didn't even glance at Toru's impassioned blithering as soon as he felt your eyes on him, "What's your name? You never said."
"Kageyama." He muttered, soft and distant.
There was a faintness to his words, a cloudy preoccupation on his usually sharp expression whenever he addressed you. You understood his intentions now and couldn't help but feel flattered.
Once Toru realized he wasn't going to get any more attention, he deemed neither of the two idiots as a threat to you and joined his team further back into the hall. There was no way you'd entertain dating either of them, anyway.
"So," You spared a glance back long enough to know he wasn't returning, "What were you really here for?"
Kageyama looked a little shell-shocked. His mouth hung open a moment, and he glanced at the floor near your feet. His eyes trailed back up in a way that could've been incriminating, but you decided not to comment on it.
"I just- wanted to say good job. Really. Your technique... is cool."
He was so obvious. You failed to bite back a smile at his -seemingly rare- sincerity.
"It's awesome," Hinata emphasized. When you looked at him, he visibly tightened and felt the need to disguise it with more words, "Man, I wish I could hit as hard as you!"
A shy laugh found you- you covered it with your hand. Kageyama wished you wouldn't.
"I could show you sometime, if you want," You offered. Any excuse to play again was appealing, especially with someone who had this much energy.
He gasped and began speaking with only Kageyama in a big, animated fashion.
A teammate of yours tapped you to let you know your team would be leaving for the bus, soon. Before that, you hadn't noticed how much the crowd was thinning out. There were only a few of you left and you knew you needed to go soon.
You looked at your brother, eyeing your little trio from afar. He wouldn't leave without knowing you were alone and unfollowed. Especially with his antagonistic opinion on Karasuno, in general.
"I can give you my number if you want to set something up. I- really gotta get going."
Hinata's eyes grew wide and sparkly with joy- you could tell he appreciated the offer on a few levels. He quickly fumbled around for his phone and you exchanged numbers.
Kageyama eyed you like a hawk, but you pretended not to notice until you pulled away.
A brief glance at him was all it took to send him back to a broody, avoidant mess.
"Just send me a text when you wanna meet up, okay?" You slung your bag and pushed on his shoulder playfully before jogging away to catch your friend.
There was only a brief moment of silence while the pair walked to rejoin their team.
"I'll break your legs if you don't give me her number."
It didn't put the fear of God in him the way he wanted it to. Hinata, equipped with newfound courage and a dash of arrogance, laughed instead.
"What are you gonna do with it? She won't want a text from you--" He evaded the first swat, got clipped on the second, and almost dropped his phone when Kageyama lunged for his phone a third time.
Before he could succeed in a fourth attempt, Hinata took off in a sprint towards their exit with Kageyama lagging behind.
It was easier to dodge the swarms of other teams and visitors with his smaller frame, but once they reached the end of the hall, it would be up to the mercy of their team to hear his pleas and save him.
Tumblr media
♕ VIP ♕
@integers @yuchacco
my masterlist
want a part 2 or got any requests?
Tumblr media
195 notes · View notes
bwat5-blog · 1 month ago
Text
Spoilers For All of Arcane
Pivotal Moments For Vi
I am continuing to cope with the end of the show by doing some lists of what I feel are the most pivotal moments for some of the main characters, in terms of showing us who they are/just leaving a huge impression. Starting off with out favorite pink haired bad-ass.
Vi-
The Bridge of Progress:
Tumblr media
This one is fairly self-explanatory, but the haunted look on Vi's face seeing her dead mother in the middle of this fiery hellscape, tells us what we need to know. The writers tell us Vi is 14-16 years old from beginning to end of season 1, act 1. So at 14 years old she is here, holding her little sisters hand seeing their entire world come undone surrounded by violence.. and still holding on to her sister.
2. Vander's lessons:
Tumblr media
"When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish". I know that's not the exact conversation at this moment but its essentially what Vander's lessons boil down to, and they become such a fundamental part of Vi's personality it is bordering on a character flaw. All that matters is doing right by those she feels responsible for. Damn the consequences to her body/mind/soul.
3. Trying to turn herself in:
Tumblr media
*disclaimer I know this gif isn't that moment, couldn't find it*
As I said above. Vi is at most 16 years old here and that is per the writers. I have EXPOUNDED AT LENGTH on how the events of this story, especially in these early days are not Vi's fault. But at only sixteen, after speaking with Vander about responsibility Vi tries to turn herself in to the enforcers for the sake of her friends, her family, and her fellow Zaunites. Brave and selfless even then.
4. Loss of Family:
Tumblr media
After already losing her birth parents when she was even younger, Vi and Powder are given a second chance in Vander, Milo and Clagger. That is until Vi is forced to watch her brothers die violently, and kneel in the street over her fathers body, all seemingly seconds from them succeeding in Vander's rescue. This coupled with the effect of her separation from Powder has such a powerful effect on Vi's life the effects cannot be overstated. That guilt and loss forming the guarded and guilt stricken young woman we meet in Act 2.
5. Meeting Caitlyn:
Tumblr media
Vi meeting Caitlyn is the catalyst for Vi moving forward in her life. Obviously her story is much more involved than that. But when they meet, Vi has been in prison for years. Her whole life stolen from her and stalled by Marcus. Her sister is a different person, her family is gone, and she has had to survive seven years on her own without love, or kindness, or joy. Now along comes this nervous, kind of dorky naïve woman in the uniform embodying the oppression of Vi's childhood, and she breaks her out and shows her a way to live again.
Reuniting with Powder/Jinx:
Tumblr media
By the time Vi finally achieves her dream and finds Powder, she is plenty aware her home has changed. But the entire time, she has held on to the hope and dream that her sister is still there. That they can go back to a semblance of who they were.. and In true-to-form heartbreaking fashion, we see Vi forced to confront the reality that while life has beaten her down and changed her, it did not spare her sister either. The thing of note for who Vi is though, is that even as Jinx is lamenting how she has changed, and the things she has done, Vi supports and loves her. She does not turn away from her at this point. She is taken from her.
Saving Caitlyn:
Tumblr media
The time comes that Caitlyn and Echo are going into Piltover, in the hope of proving to the council that Silco and Jinx are responsible for what has occurred. It is quite clear by now Vi and Caitlyn have feelings for each other, but even still Vi is going to stay behind and keep looking for her sister. It is only when Caitlyn and Echo's lives are threatened that Vi runs back into the fray, even risking her life for Caitlyn when its clear that Jinx is the threat. This is one small step of Vi's evolution but an important one.
The Dinner Party:
Tumblr media
This event is the breaking point of Vi's belief that she can save "Powder". Now we as the audience know that the sisters find peace with each-other by the end, with Vi seemingly accepting Jinx for who she has become, and Jinx finding her way out of her inner darkness. But this incident forces Vi to come face-to-face with the darkness that has consumed Powder, marking a notable shift in the sisters relationship and tearing away more of Vi's hope to restore her family. This whole incident is heartbreaking for many reasons but in terms of Vi, its like we are watching her hang from a cliffside and someone is slowly prying her fingers away from the ledge
Putting On The Uniform:
Tumblr media
I and many others have discussed Vi putting on the uniform in great detail across various sources. I have seen many accuse Vi of betraying her people, betraying her parents. I believe that is far too simplistic. This is an act of desperation. Its important to remember the following:
At this point Vi is afraid her sister is too far gone
Caitlyn (the woman Vi loves) has confided in Vi that she is afraid if she hunts Jinx without Vi, that Cait or Jinx will kill the other.
Piltover retaliation against the undercity is happening with or without Vi's help.
By going, she has a chance to keep Caitlyn safe, and even though she is conflicted about how to handle her sister, she will at least be there for whatever happens.
Ultimately what does this all boil down to? "When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish". Vi is literally putting on the symbol of her parents murder to be there for the people that count on her
The Doomed Promise:
Tumblr media
Here we get one of the rare but much appreciated glimpses behind the curtain of Stoicism and determination Vi always keeps up. She tearfully admits to Caitlyn she thinks her sister is beyond help, and begs the woman she loves not to be lost to the darkness in her because Vi has literally lost everyone else. We all cheered when they kissed for the first time. But I think we all knew what was coming as well.
The Breakup (AKA THE GIANT MIDDLE FINGER TO OUR SOULS):
Tumblr media
Just following this post alone I have detailed how Vi has every ounce of happiness taken from her a piece at a time, until Caitlyn. Caitlyn even as an enforcer is the bright spot in Vi's life. She brings love, and hope, and a tenderness Vi has never known. She is certainly the only enforcer to ever treat her with kindness. But this is a harsh and complicated world. Vi has fought and bled trying to save her sister and at this point, has failed. Her birth parents, her adoptive father and brothers are all dead and gone. So when Caitlyn, who only earlier the same day had kissed her for the first time, and promised her she wouldn't lose herself to her grief risks the life of a child, tells Vi she is no different than the woman WHO KILLED CAITLYN"S MOTHER, and hits Vi, its the straw that breaks the camel's back
Pitfighter:
Tumblr media
Okay, putting aside how insanely attractive she is, this is actually HEARTBREAKING. Vi has lost everything, and everyone. We are seeing her leached of color and life. I re-blogged a post explaining in-depth how this is far more than "because of a woman" that i recommend reading as they did a great job covering it. So what I'll say here is that Caitlyn betraying Vi in that way broke her to such a degree that she has finally stopped fighting to live.. She is clearly on the path to self-destruct, and does not care anymore
Trusting Jinx/Finding Vander:
Tumblr media
Needless to say Vi is not in a good place when Jinx comes knocking, asking her to believe that their long dead father has actually returned in the form of a wolf like monstrosity. Vi is aggressive, drinking heavily, fighting to the point she is losing (risking her own safety), and self-destructing. So it is not a shock that she responds badly when Jinx comes. But this whole episode (although like everything else this season it was rushed) shows us the Vi we know and love is still in there. She doesn't hesitate to throw herself in between Vander and Isha. and even though it would mean her certain death if Jinx is wrong, when Jinx begs her sister to believe her Vi lowers her gauntlets and the image you see above is the result. Even with all the anger, and guilt, and blame between them Vi immediately calls her sister into the hug. Even at her lowest point, Vi still believes in their family.
Reunited with Caitlyn:
Tumblr media
First of all, #JusticeforVi! No way Cait takes her down when Vi is at her best haha. But this matters for obvious reasons. Vi is not who she was when Caitlyn broke her heart, neither is Caitlyn. But as I said previously, the Vi we know is still in there. That hope, that love, that unquenchable flame. There are OBVIOUSLY still issues to work out between them. But Vi trust Caitlyn with the truth.. and calls her cupcake.
Loss of Vander/Protecting Jinx:
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
My god this episode.. Only a short time after getting him back, Vi has to watch Vander lose himself to the beast inside. And in spectacularly horrifying fashion, watching him erupt in lava?blood? while being speared and attacked by Noxian soldiers. The look of horror on Vi's face is heartbreaking when we were treated to one of her rare smiles only seconds before. This just adds to the long list of trauma/pain she has gone through and is important to remember for the conclusion of the story. But the other part of this, is that even in the midst of that crushing pain. Vi still sacrifices herself to protect her little sister. Thankfully, she lives. But she had no way to know she would when she throws herself over Jinx on the ground.
Never Give up:
Tumblr media
Vi wakes up. She has barely recovered from a bad injury saving her sister and finds out Jinx has been imprisoned. Recognizing all the changes Jinx has been through, Vi defends her. Insisting she has changed. And even says "Who decides who gets a second chance" to Caitlyn in defense of her sister. Vi then goes and tries to break jinx out. She still believes in her. Still fights for her. Still loves her. Now there are a few more nuanced important things to keep in mind here-
Jinx says "your really never gonna give up on me". I mentioned earlier Vi's willingness to sacrifice herself for her loved ones, to put herself in bad situations and disregard her own happiness can go beyond selfless and into a disregard for herself completely. Jinx leaving Vi in the cell is a huge moment. its the moment Vi realizes that no matter how badly she wants to help her sister, YOU CANT SAVE EVERYONE. I had a lovely discussion with another user recently about this. For anyone who has ever had an addict in your life. You can't force them to get better. No matter how much you love them, how much you beg and plead and fight and scream, sometimes you just aren't the one to get it done. And that's a really hard thing to accept.
Accepting Love:
Tumblr media
So obviously this was a HUGE moment for all kinds of reasons but sticking with Vi's character, I'm focusing on two specific ones:
"I choose wrong every time and because of it, I have lost everyone"- First of all, Caitlyn's want of Vi and love and and affection is on a very basic level proof she hasn't lost everyone. But it's more than that. Caitlyn is validating V,i and Vi's choices. She knew Vi was going to come for Jinx and is not only okay with it, she cleared the way. Vi feels seen, and loved, and accepted by the woman she loves. The importance of that cannot be overstated for a character who feels like she has no one left in her corner
2. Vi chooses happiness: I have seen commentary to the tune of "Jinx was clearly in crisis Vi should have gone after her" or "Really in the cell her sister was rotting in?!" To that, I would say this. Say Vi chased after her, why? To what purpose? As i said earlier, one of the hardest things to learn is that you can't save everyone no matter how much you love them. There is every likelihood Vi and Caitlyn will die tomorrow. So she could spend what could be her last night alive hunting Jinx in the undercity ,and if she finds her trying to coax her back. But we are shown clearly that that is not what Jinx or Vi need. Jinx tells Vi to be happy, to be with Caitlyn and stop feeling guilty.
This show maintains strong thematic continuity through parallels, with Its closest characters often learning similar lessons. Both Vi and Jinx have to learn to stop "Running in Circles". So that being said, what are we left with when Jinx is gone?:
Vi is face to face with the woman she loves. The woman who despite hurting her, immediately signed on to save Vander even knowing what betraying Ambessa would mean. Who was angry but didn't move to hurt Jinx at the commune, who saved Vi when she was hurt, who didn't arrest Jinx, and who cleared the way for jinx to go free since that's what Vi really wanted. So Vi lets herself have this. She lets herself be happy with the woman she loves. its beautiful and intimate and a culmination of these two characters relationship long in the making, no matter where they are
Loss of Vander/Jinx:
Tumblr media
To those who continue to suggest Vi is guilty for Jinx's death (not dead), I encourage you to search your humanity. I have discussed it in this post as well as several others now, but lets run down the barebones trauma checklist one more time:
Vi is in her early twenties
Watches her birth parents die
Watches her brothers die
Watches Vander die the first time, during an incident Vi barely survived herself
Thrown in a cold and dark prison for seven years to be abused and terrorized and assaulted
Stabbed, beaten and hunted in the mission to save her little sister who has become dangerous and unstable
Little sister almost kills her
Little sisters kills her girlfriend's (i know they weren't really dating yet just keeps things simpler) mother
Willingly dons enforcer uniform to protect Caitlyn only to be assaulted and abandoned
Lives at least a few months in a self-destructive spiral being beaten and drinking heavily
Gets her dad and sister back even if dad is in a monstrous wolf body
Has to say goodbye to Dad as he seemingly dies in a horrifying manner
Survives the horror of that last battle
Watches Dad die again
Simply put. She had enough. The best I ever heard trauma described was that your mind is a cup, and eventually your cup runs over. Its cliché and used in movies and tv shows all the time but that's because its simple and its clear. Vi just cannot take any more.. and we see it.. she is seeing vander die all over again that very first time, crying and cradling his head. And when he attacks her Vi, who hasn't backed down from a fight since the first time we see her is left crawling back pleading with him to stop. She just shuts down. So yes, if you go out of your way to aggressively ignore nuance/context/story telling you can simply say its Vi's fault.. I hope you do not. You are cheating yourself out of the full weight of this heartbreaking and inspiring story.
The Dirt Under Your Nails:
Tumblr media
This is quite possibly the last time we will see Vi outside of the game if Riot is to be believed. I hope not, but I would understand it. Vi is the warrior who has found peace. She is not untouched. She has lost so much, been wounded many times over in ways that will likely never fully heal. She has the love of her life but even she is permanently altered from all they have been through. And at the end of it all, even though Jinx's sacrifice for Vi was beautiful, and heroic, and a stunning moment for Jinx's character, it hurts to know that is more guilt Vi doesn't deserve but will likely carry forever, if she never learns Jinx is alive. For the people saying Vi seems too happy or she doesn't care, she is sitting alone drinking when we find her singing Powder's song. I have said it in several posts and stand by it. This is not happily ever after for Vi, not quite yet. But because of her unending strength, loyalty and love. And because of the people who have loved and respected her and helped her become the woman she is today, I think Vi has found the path to Happily ever after.
To those who read this I appreciate you. I know I have gone on-and-on about Vi. I want to do this with Jinx and Caitlyn as well. As i have said, interacting with this fan-base and sharing our love for this incredible work has been a real positive force for me as a person and I appreciate each of you.
213 notes · View notes
animasola86 · 21 days ago
Text
F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4
Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.
a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k
Tumblr media
A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)
Tumblr media
1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4
You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...
You.
It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.
But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:
One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).
And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).
Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:
You can't remember a goddamn thing!
Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.
First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.
Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.
But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.
Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.
You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.
Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.
The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.
You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.
This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.
You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?
The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.
The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.
There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.
Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.
Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.
Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.
But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.
Only you.
A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.
Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.
You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.
“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.
Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.
“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”
“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.
You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!
You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.
It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.
You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.
“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”
You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.
She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.
“I... I don't –”
“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”
You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”
You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.
She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.
For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.
Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.
Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.
Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.
She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.
“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”
You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.
Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.
“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”
She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?
But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”
You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.
She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.
“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.
You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.
She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”
You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.
And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.
And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.
She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.
“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”
Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.
“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.
You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.
This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.
You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:
“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”
You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.
As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.
Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.
She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.
Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.
“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?
You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.
You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.
A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.
“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”
Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.
She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.
It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.
1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4
Tumblr media
End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.
By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.
Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!
Tumblr media
MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS
195 notes · View notes
save-the-villainous-cat · 4 months ago
Text
The hero let out a wet groan, pushing themselves up as the blood ran down their side. It was in itself a funny feeling.
It was a good feeling.
Absolutely no one in this rotten city was able to challenge them. Physically, they were stronger. Mentally, they were quicker. And their dedication, their devotion was like a holy prayer that guided them through their nights.
The hero knew it wasn't a good thing - the longing for a challenge, the desire for an opponent that could actually make them a better fighter. It was a dangerous wish and they had to remind themselves regularly why they were doing this job in the first place.
To do good. To be good. Not to find someone who was their very own nemesis.
However, with the villain's boot on their ribs and that brutal nature of theirs, the hero was struggling not to find this utterly satisactory.
"Yeah, right there," the hero wheezed. "Make me scream."
The villain tilted their head and tutted, nearly bored of the hero's games. They let out a sigh and grabbed the hero's hair, yanking them up.
Another wheeze.
And the villain crouched, holding the hero by their hair. Very close. Very intimate.
"Do you think I am stupid?" the villain asked. Their lips brushed the hero's ear and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, the hero could only concentrate on the adrenaline rushing through their body.
"No," the hero said. They had to grin. Sometimes, they wished they could devour the villain, that they could change them and ultimately, that they could control them.
The hero knew it wasn't right. They knew it wasn't good. But they had never felt this kind of obsession towards anyone. In previous relationships, they hadn't gotten jealous, they hadn't gotten angry. They had never struggled like this. They had never doubted themselves like this.
"I know your dirty little secret," the villain said. "I know you like me. You like this."
"I didn't try to hide it," the hero said.
"Not from me. But the public."
"What are you trying to...?"
"Oh, poor hero," the villain murmed. "See, the difference between you and me is, that I do not care about you. If this gets to one, just one flimsy reporter, the people will turn against you. I can ruin your entire career. Your entire life."
The hero had miscalculated. Obviously, they hadn't expected their nemesis to feel the same. But they also hadn't expected them to tell the public. To use the public against the hero. It was a little shameless. But the hero was even more disgusted by their admiration for it.
"So?" the hero asked. Losing the public was a detrimental loss, that much was clear. But was it even measurable next to the fights with the villain? Did it even matter? When the hero could feel this euphoric? This alive? When had the public ever made them feel that way? "I would still have you."
"I do not love you," the villain argued. "You're not as important to me as you think."
"Give it some time," the hero said. "You will love me, don't worry. Everyone does."
The villain simply laughed at that. It was nearly soft. Or maybe the hero wanted it to be. It didn't matter.
"I have to admit, I am quite interested in what you have in store for me. How will you act once the public calls you a traitor? What will you do when I refuse to fight you? You are-" with their index finger, the villain traced the hero's thoat "-so very unique."
"Is that attraction?"
"Obligatory interest."
"And you say you're not in love."
They stared at each other until, finally, the villain dropped them. They cleared their throat and tilted their head. But the hero swallowed blood when their head nearly smashed against the concrete floor.
"I like toying with you, that is all."
"Sure," the hero said. They clutched their heart, tried to breathe. Being close to the villain was a gift, no matter how much it hurt. The hero loved it, loved their words, loved their personality, loved the challenge. It was insane, the hero felt completely deranged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
And the hero was excited. So very excited for the next weeks.
236 notes · View notes