#terrified of you and your device(s) of choice.

[sh1-n0bu]

Okay (takes a deep breath) HELLO

I hope you are doing well..So I recently started following you. I'M JUST IN LOOOOVE IN YOUR WRITING

so I had like this angst idea.I'm a sadist.I enjoy putting my fav characters through hell

Angst ask ( I'm still confused about the rules so please forgive me)

Angst (little yandre s/o)

Let's say that we're m/n and we love our s/o very much. We have a vision and we're like the perfect person to exist on teyvat (I literally met a like this person today) looks 100👍 personality (cute, caring and strong ofc) anyway buff them as much u want.So we went on a mission almost died by getting injured.Somehow made it back to s/o's special day.Spend the whole day with them while dying (u know tanjiro who never dies no matter how much injuries he has) like that.But we got ambushed in middle of nowhere .S/o got hit first and became a burden. Can't fight because of the injury (for s/o) and became almost paralyzed and barely killing the enemies.On the other hand we're dying before but everything crashed and we're fighting with death and enemies and had to protect s/o also (S/O was really weak today and we took the hit again for them and finish the whole fight alone) we almost or say SAYONARA BITCH and maybe die on them or our vision is losing it's glow quickly and we are drowning in our own blood

Ur choice

The self hate part (while the're paralyzed) their dark thoughts are talking over them

It's their fault for being so useless

It's their fault we are almost dead or dead

It's their fault

Their fault

Ahhh sorry because this shit is so long

I had more on my brain ehehehe

Anyway if you don't like it please feel free to ignore it

Loooooove you

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

😈anon (The emojis are so messed up in this device)

Have a great year ahead

Best of luck

Byeeeeee

✿ 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 ✿

characters: 6reeze x nb!reader

warnings: blood, fighting, canon typical violence, reader has vision, almost dying, angst, light crack and fluff

notes: WOOOO man 😈 nonnie bby you popped off for this one! also wtf nobu is still alive y’all 😨😨

definitely the type to blame himself the most if the people he loves and cares for would get injured, even if he was in another nation when it happened

you get that feeling of immense guilt when you accidentally step on your pet and they yowl very loudly in pain and you want to apologize and pet them to soothe them but they’re backing away from you?

yeah take that feeling and multiply it ten times, that’s how aether felt when he heard your pained shout when trying to get yourselves away from the ambush

when he saw your body fall down to the dirt with blood slowly seeping into the grass, painting the beautiful field in heartbreaking red, he blanked out

only came to himself when your hand touched his cheek, reminding him that you’re both alive as paimon sobs between you two

he was just so worried that you will leave him behind just like lumine and he couldn’t help the aching feeling of his heart being stabbed as his eyes felt more watery and his throat clenched up

aether already lost a loved one and he’s desperately trying to find her and bring her back, so please be careful and always come back to him and paimon

sobbing into your shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around your body, the blonde traveler couldn’t tell if the wetness he feels on his cheeks is either from his tears or your blood. and he can’t make out any noises other than the ringing, the terrified thumps of his heart and paimon’s sobs. were you alive? please be alive.

feeling a hand wipe away his tears, aether pulled back from sobbing to your shoulders as he looks at you with wide and puffy eyes. you were alive!

tackling you down into a hug, he ignored your pained grunt as he wailed loudly into your chest. clinging to your shirt, weakly hitting your shoulders as he rambled about being more careful and to never make him nor paimon this worried ever again.

“yeah yeah… but aether we need to patch ourselves up before we bleed out to death”.

“…oh”.

the karmic debt that eats away at his mind, body and heart is always on the brink of taking over and turning him into a mindless, raging beast

and thanks to his karma, the guardian yaksha is always at the tip of his feet. ready to run away, desert himself or if needed to, spread out his golden wings and fly far far away where he would harm no one. only himself

sadly it was another day where his karma was at it’s worst. every single movement, shifting of muscles feeling like they’re being torn apart, every little inhale and exhale of breath feeling like his lungs are being stabbed

that’s when it happened. the ambush, the fatui, the accident - it all happened too fast for the adepti to even realize what was going on until something wet splatters on his cheek

blood. your blood

at that, the guardian yaksha put on his mask, uncaring of the agony in his body as he dashes between the ambushers, swiftly taking them down before returning to your side

feeling a shaky hands trying and failing miserably over and over to wrap a bandage around your torso, you manages to crack an eye open to stare at the blurry figure of your boyfriend. faintly you could hear him cuss under his breath as his weak state tries to stop the bleeding with trembling hands. from fear? anxiety? his own karma? you didn’t know and neither did he.

“shit shit shit shit! just stay awake [name]! we’re almost at the wangshu inn!”

noticing your eyes growing hazy, he places a hand on your shoulder and gently shakes you, causing you to grunt in pain. shit was that the wrong move? did he accidentally caused your injuries to worsen?

the touch of your hand covering his own gloved ones snaps him out of his inner tantrum as he looks at your face.

“idiot… why are you smiling?”

“hahah… calm down, love… it’s not that deep. we can walk to the wangshu inn together…”

as the most famous detective and doushin of inazuma, heizou tends to attract a few ill intention carrying people to himself. and that’s precisely why he always tries to keep your relationship a secret even if he desperately wants to hold your hand in public, take you out on nice dates and see the many beautiful sceneries together

alas, not all relationships can exactly be happy go lucky. more so if the person your in a relationship with is the most successful detective of inazuma

all it happened in a blink of an eye. you and him were just supposed to take a nice walk around the beaches together at late night without too many prying eyes and curious whispers, yet heizou seems to have underestimated just how dirty the kairagi can play

the detective even tried threatening when the gang of treasure hunters and nobushis didn’t budge, instead deciding to attack straight at the two of you. the anemo user was fast but the treasure hoarders were too many for him to handle, causing both of you to end up injured

when seeing your bleeding chest, his breath hitches. hands starting to shake, breathing picking up pace as his mind goes back in a memory lane, way back to when his first and only childhood friend laid dying in his arms with the stupid green pebble clutched in his hand

was this real? was that incident happening all over again? no. no no no no, he can’t - he couldn’t lose you. not you. anyone but you -

feeling your weight slump over his shorter frame, the detective snaps out of his momentary panic attack. as your arm comes up to rest on his shoulder, the wine colored haired young man understands your intention. wrapping his own arm around your middle, heizou guides yourselves back to inazuma city as fast as he could support your larger frame.

“hehe… seems like… people might just find out that we’re dating huh ‘zou?”

“heh… just keep your energy and keep walking [name]”

only when hearing that your wounds weren’t in fatal places did shikanoin managed to breathe out a sigh of relief. shoulders sagging as he feels the heavy weight of anxiety slip off of his body, the doushin enters the room you’re resting in to give you a nice long lecture to never jump in front of him to use yourself as a shield again.

after living in hundreds of years under the perfectly hidden disguise, the anemo archon has seen and heard everything the world had to offer. from the joys of his people during festivals to now, the familiar, disgusting feeling of dread churning in his stomach as he waits for your healing to finish

it was a sudden ambush, he was told by the small group you were traveling with. apparently a few abyss heralds had shown up, causing you to use your pyro vision too much to the point you ended up burning your own self

venti couldn’t sit still. pacing back and forth in front of the door of the cathedral, tapping his feet anxiously, fiddling with the necklace you lovingly placed around his collarbone on your relationship’s first year anniversary - now feeling like he was being choked by the gift he treasured

after what seems like hours, the door opens and he’s let in to meet you

you were staying in one of the emergency rooms at the back of the cathedral. the soft glow of the sunset peeking in through the window shining down on your unconscious body, making him feel a mix of awe at your visage but also dread at the amount of pain your body could possibly be going through

dragging a chair up to sit beside your bed, the bard decides to stay beside your recovering figure until you wake up

grunting and shifting, you could feel the bright afternoon sun beating down on you. it felt unconscious and annoying, why didn’t venti close the curtains? he knows how much you hate the afternoon sun.

wait… venti… curtains��

forcing your eyes to open up, you felt a soft tiny weight laying down on your chest right over your beating heart. bringing a bandaged hand up, you poked at the small figure of the wind spirit.

ah right… the accident with the traveling and the abyss heralds.

at the fifth poke, the tiny wind spirit seems to wake up. yawning, the little guy sits up on your chest before his sleepy hazed mind finally realizes you’re awake.

throughout the rest of the afternoon and way into the night, some of the sisters in the cathedral could hear your voice talking back to an angry sounding chirps. they decided to just act like it never happened and continue on with their work.

“human life is worthless”.

that’s what the puppet always scoffs whenever he comes across a grave or reminded of your mortality by your silly questions of “will you remember me after i’m dead?”

and yet why was he screaming his lungs out as he shakes your unconscious body in his arms?

why was it raining? why was his eyes wet even with the wide brimmed hat covering his face?

… why were you bleeding in the middle of the avidya forest?

after having a meltdown over your paling body, wanderer decides to act quick and take you to someone named tighnari. you’ve introduced the two while you were showing the puppet around sumeru, “he’s great with medicine and is one of the best forest rangers” he could remember your smiling fave as he recalls your words

scooping up your body into his arms, the former harbinger uses his anemo vision to fly towards the small village where the forest ranger is located

bursting in through the front door, wanderer nervously calls out for tighnari as he disregards the many looks of worry, fear and pity around him. he just needed to get you to help fast

it had been a few days since your lover had found you bruised and bleeding on avidya forest’s grounds. there’s not a single moment where he’s gotten up and left your side. not even once, not even when the fennec fox pesters him that he should look out for his own health as well.

just how the fuck was he supposed to look over himself when you could very well be on the thin line between life and death?

it was on the fourth day when the puppet felt your fingers twitch in his gentle grasp. sitting up straight, he sits closer to your unconscious body, hoping, praying to the archons that any sign could be seen or heard.

and this time, the archons seems to have took pity on the poor heartbroken puppet as you shifted and groaned, finally starting to wake up. he breathed out a sigh of relief, a single stray tear falling down his puffy eyes as he wipes it away before cradling your cheeks in his hands tenderly.

“welcome back, darling…”

oh gosh imagine the amount of ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks and self blaming this man gets when he sees you get injured

even worse, when you two are fighting together on the battlefield

when you would get injured his state of mind is immediately reverting back to tomo’s death. the blank vision of his friend, the lightning that incarnated his flesh and bones leaving behind nothing to burry, nothing to remember him by, the sheer absolute helplessness the kaedehara felt

acting on pure instincts alone, the samurai scoops up your bleeding body in his arm and he does the same thing he has done before. run.

only when far away from the ambush place and their chasers could no longer be seen or heard does he allows himself to breathe

placing down your injured body, kazuha brings out a few rolls of bandages as he looks over your wounds

was it in a lethal place? how deep was it? did the ambushers had elemental powers? he didn’t know nor could he remember. his vision is just red as his chest heaves, mind being overridden with nothing but panic

this scenery, this moment, this feeling - it was all too familiar to the poor samurai, he couldn’t even comprehend what was real or what was fake

everything was too much

that was, until he feels your hand tugging on his kimono sleeve

finally taking a few deep breaths to calm his mind and racing heart, kaedehara starts to patch up your wounds, albeit a bit sloppily with his trembling hands

staggering with your taller frame leaning on his shorter one for support, kazuha could make out beidou and the crux members’ surprised and worried shouts as some of them drops the luggage they were moving into the ship, instead running over to the couple to aid their members.

as one of the men take your unconscious body away from him, kazuha finds himself following behind wordlessly to the med room. archons was the blood on his white kimono yours? have you truly lost this much blood?

… would you be okay?

snapping himself out of his sudden dark thought, the wandering samurai feels beidou place a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. she could see the young man wasn’t injured, then that would only mean all of the blood on him is from you.

quietly standing together, the captain and the samurai awaits for the medic to finish patching you up. becoming a comforting pillar to lean on to each other as some time passes until the medic finally comes out with a small smile.

just by looking at the medic, kazuha knew you would pull through. that was how you always were. strong and steady, just like the geo vision you had mastered.

[fakecmpire]

a gentle kiss pressed on top of a band-aid. a cup of coffee left to go cold. the ghost of your breath on a crisp winter morning. a helping hand. an immaculate white coat. a simple crucifix on a thin silver chain. trying to be everything for everyone. making your parents proud. squeezing somebody’s hand. the drum of blood in your ears. sunlight filtering through a stained glass window. encouraging someone to lean on you. receiving benediction. being forever in need of just five more minutes. 

statistics.

full name:  christopher laurence ahn nickname(s):  he’ll accept chris, but he’s definitely more of a christopher name meaning:  bearer of christ age:  thirty-five date of birth:  january 3rd star sign:  capricorn place of birth:  seattle, washington current location:  grimrose, new hampshire gender:  cis-male pronouns:  he/him sexual orientation:  gay, but it’s complicated religion:  catholic, but it’s complicated occupation:  doctor at grimrose general practice family:  jae-won “jay” ahn (father), dolores ahn (mother) education level:  m.d from harvard medical school living arrangements:  a nice apartment on main street financial status:  comfortable spoken languages:  english, korean, spanish 

inspirations.

paul hill (midnight mass) marcus keane (the exorcist) louis de pointe du lac (interview with a vampire) james wilson (house m.d.) jane bennet (pride and prejudice) owen sharma (the haunting of bly manor) bruce banner (the incredible hulk)

biography. (internalised homophobia tw, catholic guilt tw)

Christopher was raised in a devoutly catholic household, and religion has pretty much shaped his entire life. He went to catholic school, did bible camp most summers, and attended church services with his parents at least once a week for the entirety of his childhood.

Growing up, he was very close with his mom and dad. It was just the three of them, and they were like the musketeers - there was a lot of love in the house, but that love became fraught as Christopher got older and started keeping secrets from them.

He couldn’t tell his parents about the terrifying things he felt; about his burgeoning crush on a boy in his class that nearly tore him in half with guilt and longing. It didn’t fit with the church’s teachings, and he wanted to be a good son - if that meant carving pieces of himself away to preserve that image, that’s what he would do.

It was practically a given that Christopher would be a doctor some day. Helping people was about the highest calling he could think of, and between his excellent grades and copious extra curriculars, he more than earned his place at Harvard. His parents were worried how their son would fair at a secular college so far from home, but they were proud of what their son had achieved, and trusted him to make good choices. 

He had a very active social life at college, but he never dated, insisting he was too busy to think about it. This was largely to protect himself, and to save him from outright lying to his parents when he came home for the holidays.

After working himself to the bone and finally completing his residency, Christopher was left to his own devices. Instead of returning to Washington as was expected, he opted to move out to New Haven, to a small town by the name of Grimrose. The town had need of a doctor, and on doing a little research into local history, he realised his mother had been born there - back when the place was called Mary’s Cove.

Having lived in Grimrose for a year now, he’s finally starting to feel a sense of something like home. He likes his neighbours, and is ever-friendly and helpful, but sometimes it feels as though there’s a sheet of glass separating him from everybody else. Nobody really knows him, not deep down, where it actually counts. He’s just a nice man, keeping everyone at arm’s length.

other things.

since moving to grimrose, christopher has started organising regular five-a-side soccer games, and can usually be found playing in the park every other sunday afternoon. he’s a midfielder, and supports chelsea football club.

he drives to the neighbouring town to attend church every sunday morning. 

he’s big on volunteer work, and rarely says ‘no’ if someone calls on him to donate his time. if there’s soup that needs ladling, a community garden that needs digging, or clothes that need sorting, you can count on christopher to be there.

he loves to cook, but can’t bake worth a damn. 

in an ideal universe, he’d have a dog - but he hasn’t got time to take care of one.

if he ever left general practice, he’d go into paediatrics. he loves kids, and keeps a selection of lollypops, stickers, and fun band-aids in his desk at work. one wall of his office is devoted to pictures his young patients have made him over the years.

like many doctors, he’s terrible at being sick. he simply refuses to slow down.

[firehandlerfred]

Hello hi i got home at midnight because God has a favourite punching bag and it is yours truly. HOWEVER, this means I get to decompress by gushing about this damn episode.

a word of warning: I'm gonna be all over the place cause I'm gonna talk about what i remember as opposed to chronologically. Also spoilers for like, an 8 year old show ig.

SO, Critical role campaign one, episode 57: The Duskmeadow. One of, if not my favourite episode, and all without a single combat dice roll.

First and foremost: the voice acting. Good Lord above, I know they're professionals, but I am constantly blown away by the range and emotion they put into each sentence. From Viktor and the hat shopkeep, Gilmore Gilmore GILMORE. (smiling boy is forever in my repertoire). to the chill af suntree, to Vax in the temple of the Raven Queen, to keyleth and Vex talking to him after, to fucking S. Just phenomenal.

Second, Matthew Mercer, please write a book (idk if he has I'm still 8 years behind). His description of the Raven Queen temple was leagues above and beyond anything I could've ever imagined. I was fully prepared for it to be this creepy lair-esque location, with creaks and groans and spiderwebs and the like. But the way it was described, it felt like a warm place, if not slightly estranged. Imo it shows a beautiful side of death: it is not your friend, but it is warm, it's welcoming, it's beautiful and final and shining bright.

That said, the blood pool was fucking terrifying, especially when Matt started describing the liquid entering Vax's lungs and stuff.

And the Raven Queen herself was transcendent in my mind. A beautiful pale, lean and regal figure of finality and embrace. A deity who wishes to aid Man into his passage, and who adores her champions. The threads i could see in my mind's eye clear as day, and I almost got vertigo when Matt described the figure stretching down to infinity and holding Vax in the palm of her hand.

Now, Vax'hildan. Baby boy, reckless bastard, cunning rogue and awkward flirt Vax'hildan. He's been building up to this encounter for many episodes. He's been praying to his Goddess, following her rites and observing death and what comes after. His request to go to the temple was expected, and so was his refusal that his sister should come with

His relationship with Pike is so soothing to me: a man living in shadows most of his life, seeking help and advice from a holy woman, a literal beacon of light. (It also helps that Ashley is the best person ever and everyone loves her).

His performance this episode was spectacular too. His subdued demeanor and insistence that no, Vex'halia, anyone but you, please. His determination facing his matron, and subsequent relief/sadness at having cemented his place as her champion. The way he says "it is NOT what I wanted" hit me hard. Honestly this entire episode has some solid lines.

Percival. I've seen some people complain about his choice to go into the temple after Vax, and i mean, this is the same person who was barely heard for the first 30 episodes of the show. Who always makes way for the other players. To accuse him of trying to steal the spotlight was kinda insane to me.

Plus, i understand his choice to go into the temple. He's been surrounded by death for a while, his entire plan being to kill everyone involved in his family's murder then either off himself or have someone else do it. He's been confused and lost and quite frankly borderline suicidal with his explosion-prone devices and penchant to just. Run into the fray. So him going to the Goddess of Death is a logical course of action, especially for one like him and his mind.

I also Love how the description for the temple for his go around was somehow dimmer, colder, like he isn't welcome here. His discussion with the Raven Queen as well, her flat-out telling him he's broken, defective and wrong.

And then. Sam.Fucking.Reigel.

Anyone else, ANY other sentence would've fallen flat or barely got a chuckle, but this comedic genius going "i go to the temple" was so well timed that it instantly lifted the spirits of the table, and got them in gear for the next part. It is no exaggeration when people say Sam is one of the best players on that table.

Him and Travis both. The mechanical pencil breaking and the hat shop bit almost got me in trouble at work i was trying not to laugh out loud.

Also side note, but the way the players all look mesmerized whenever Matt describes something is so cute and nice. They love that man and his skills so much.

And finally, the Rakshasa plot twist at the end. The way Matt set it up so that Vax only has a silk robe on. The slow paced, weird sounding dialogue, the fucking voice transition??? when he goes full Rakshasa. The "can I insight check? - you would if you had the time" fucking CHILLS.

That's mostly it for me. If you reached this far, thank you for listening to my insane ramblings about an 8 year old, 1 in a 144 episodes of a show. This was super fun to write and honestly i might do it again for other episodes, if nothing else just to have my thoughts into writing somewhere. Love you all <3

Sorry I'm like, at episode 60 of c1 and I'm still foaming at the mouth at a certain episode.

Like, I'm at work so I'm NOT gonna type it now on my phone, but you best believe soon as I'm getting home I'm gonna diatribe that bitch

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Kou Route ー Sub Scenario w/Reiji

–> In between the main route chapters, the player is taken to the area map of the Parade where you can freely roam around. There are four different places to visit, each with different mini games and sub scenarios to enjoy.

AREA: GLIMMER DARK STREET

CHARACTER: REIJI

ー The scene starts in Reine de Aji’s store

Kou: Ah, this jacket is so cool.

Yui: It looks great on you!

Kou: Really? Guess I’ll go for this one then~

Reiji: Kou, one moment, please.

Kou: Eh? What’s wrong, Reiji-kun?

Reiji: The sleeve of the one you’ve selected is ever so slightly frayed. You should take this one instead. 

Kou: Ah? You’re right! I didn’t notice at all. Thanks!

Yui: Reiji-san has a sharp eye when it comes to these kinds of things.

Reiji: I am only doing the obvious. 

Kou: But you know, I can imagine that the Sakamaki household would collapse in on itself without Reiji-kun around. 

Reiji: Well, you do make a valid point. Just look at how things are even with me there.

It is terrifying to even imagine how that lot would fare without me. 

Yui: ( ...Understandable. I’m sure things wouldn’t end well without Reiji-san around... )

Kou: I seeー ...I’ll treat you today to compensate for all the trouble you have to go through on a daily basis!

Let me think, right...

Yui: ( I wonder how Kou-kun plans to treat him? )

Kou: This, and this, I guess?

*Thud*

Yui: Such a lovely smell. Is this a fragrance?

Kou: Yup! I chose one with a soothing effect. What do you think? 

Reiji: Not a bad choice. 

Kou: I’m glad to hear that! Then, next is this nifty tool.

Yui: ( Is that a massage device he’s pressing against Reiji-san’s shoulder? )

Reiji: Very nice. A little more to the right, please...Ah, right there. 

Kou: Uwahー Your muscles are totally locked up. 

Reiji: None of my siblings will show their appreciation for me in this way after all.

Kou: I see...Then I’ll fill that role today~!

Yui: ( Reiji-san seems pleased as well, I’m glad. )

*TIMESKIP*

Kou: Hey~ I can stop now, right?

Reiji: No. You have yet to do my arms and legs. 

Yui: ( Kou-kun has been giving Reiji-san a massage non-stop ever since... )

Kou: I’m exhausted. I’ve already treated you plenty so we can call it a day, right? 

Reiji: Not yet. You are the one who offered, so now you should take responsibility till the end. 

Furthermore, you are not allowed to stop until I say so. 

Kou: ...Fine. If you want a massage that badly, take a seat over here. 

Yui: ( Is that a massage chair he’s pointing to...? )

Reiji: I suppose I have no other choice. I am curious what you have in store for me next. 

ー Reiji takes a seat

*Thud*

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: Kou! Why are you tying my limbs to the chair!?

Kou: If you’re that worn out, you should have this device take care of it. This one’s very famous, you see? 

I’m sure it’ll do a much better job than I ever could! That being said...Let’s turn this bad boy on!

ー He switches on the massage chair 

Reiji: Uu...Kou! Stop this! Hurry...Ow!

Kou: They say that pain indicates just how exhausted your body actually is. 

I’m sure that it’ll gradually start feeling better and better if you just endure it for a bit so hang in there~!

Reiji: That makes no sense! Now hurry up and untie me!

Owowow!

Kou: Now don’t be so demanding! I’m sure it’ll turn off itself in a few hours, give or take!

Reiji: A few hours!? Wait, turn it off at once!

*Rustle rustle*

Kou: Anyway, we should probably get going soon. See you!

M-neko-chan, sorry for the wait! Let’s forget about Reiji-kun and go hit up one of the other shops, okay? 

Yui: S-Sure...

ー They walk towards the door

Yui: ( Reiji-san seemed to be in a lot of pain so I wonder...Will he be okay like that? )

Reiji: Aaah!

...Somebody, anybody...Stop this thing, please...!

ーー THE END ーー

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

pls do part two of “you're everything you once hated” 🥺

Alright! I originally wasn’t going to do a Part 2 of this but a few people have asked so here you go! 😙

You’re Everything You Once Hated | Suguru Niragi

PART 1 | PART 2

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. OC, Ann, Tatta, Hatter, Kuina)

Summary: You attempt to escape Niragi to replenish your visa by yourself, but he catches you and makes sure you won’t do it again

Warnings: (okay here we go) blood, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, obsessive themes, suggestive themes, graphic violence/torture, needles, being held hostage, deranged behaviour, reader is traumatised, implications of a panic attack, dehumanisation (kind of?), mention of amputation, mention of suicide, guns, knives, reader sees a corpse, minor character death

Word Count: 4.6k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: this is quite heavy and messed up, so I recommend people under 15 don’t read this

The young man leant against the large building, holding a small rose in his sweaty palms as he waited for you to arrive from your after school class. He winced as the thorns slightly caught on his olive skin. He sighed and craned his neck back to rest on the wall behind him. No matter how much he attempted to distract himself, the rate his heart was beating kept bringing the nausea to his stomach.

The sky was painted a soft mix of orange and pink as the sun began to fall asleep below the horizon. Valentine’s Day couldn’t have created a more romantic atmosphere for Niragi, he couldn’t mess it up now or he would let cupid down himself.

“What the hell am I even doing?” he questioned himself, wiping his brow with the back of his wrist. “She probably doesn’t even see me this way. We’ve been best friends for years, if she felt something she would’ve told me by now, right?”

He was stressing himself out, continuing the doubt whether his idea was good or not. He was considering dropping the rose and just walking away, being too afraid of the reality that he had been in love with you for years and had never been able to voice it. He felt embarrassed about himself, making his head fill with insecurities and doubts.

His phone vibrating in his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. Niragi reached into his blazer and pulled out his device, noticing a text from you.

‘I’m on my way,’ it read.

He heard your footsteps around the corner and straightened himself up, letting out a sigh to relieve tension. He knew there was no going back now, so he had no choice but to go ahead with his confession.

Just as he was about to turn the corner to meet you, he noticed a male voice that echoed yours, making him freeze in his tracks. He kept himself pushed against the wall, trying to listen to what you were saying.

“I mean, movies are cheap at the moment. Do you want to go see one together?” Niragi heard the boy say. His heart sank at the males words and his hand holding the rose fell from his chest to drooping towards the ground.

Your voice, that was all too familiar to Niragi, answered him. “Sure! I’m busy this afternoon, but I’m free this weekend on Saturday.”

Saturday. Niragi frowned. You and him always went to the park together every Saturday to have a picnic together. You wouldn’t forget about that, would you?

His disappointment turned into anger suddenly. The exhilarating emotions filled his mind and heart so quickly, it took him off guard. As his hand twitched slightly, he shook his head to remove the thoughts from his head.

“Okay, I’ll send you a text later to talk about times and stuff,” the boy said. Niragi’s curiosity got the best of him and he peeked his head around the side of the building to catch a glance of who you were with. He wished he didn’t.

It was one of the young kids that picked on him in Science class, which you weren’t in. Niragi felt betrayed, but tried to reassure himself that you just didn’t know what this guy was really like.

“Bye Y/N,” the boy muttered shyly, making Niragi fume at his fake behaviour. ‘He obviously is just trying to get in her pants,’ Niragi thought to himself, jaw clenching in annoyance at your blindness.

The boy leaned close to you and left a soft kiss on your forehead making you smile and wave happily as he walked away. As soon as he disappeared up the stairs a few metres up, Niragi leant back so you couldn’t see him.

He felt tears building in his eyes, so he quickly wiped them away before you found him. He jumped as he saw you turn the corner, hiding the rose he held behind his back.

“Hey Niragi!” you exclaimed, having the same gorgeous smile that you always conveyed around him. Usually the small action would make him melt into the ground. But at that moment, he didn’t think anything you did could make him feel better.

“You okay?” you asked, leaning close to his face with your eyebrows raised. His heart beat picked up, noticing how your lips were only a few inches away from his. He turned his face to the side, hiding his blush. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” he lied through his teeth.

As he kept up his innocent façade, small droplets of blood slowly drizzled down his wrist from the tight fist enveloping the thorned rose. His confined anger flowed through the blood that spilled from the cuts in his palm, but he didn’t feel a pinch of pain through his tensed muscles.

Perhaps one day, the world would give him another chance to show his love for you.

***************

You woke with a start as someone busted through the door of the room, looking around in a panic at who would enter so suddenly. Your eyes widened as you caught sight of Niragi, stumbling into the room with his usual sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Sorry love, did I wake you?”

You stayed silent, sitting up properly and watching his movements closely. You didn’t trust a single thing he did or said, so you still remained on high alert whenever he was in this room alone with you, despite the fact you had been sharing the room with him for three days.

“You getting hungry? I brought some food up last night for you while you were asleep,” he said, placing his rifle on a small table. You watched as it collided with the wooden surface, flinching at the loud noise.

You hadn’t been able to leave the room since your injury. You had been shot in the foot by an overly sensitive militant woman who you weren’t even sure was still alive after the beating Niragi gave her in front of you. His behaviour during that time alone was enough to you terrified, especially the fact that it is impossible to run from him now.

But the lack of movement on your foot has proven to help and you have noticed the bullet wound healing quite well. The ointment and bandages you apply regularly on it (no help from Niragi) has been working perfectly, and you were praying for the moment you could move your stuff back to your own room and escape Niragi’s unpredictable and psychotic behaviour around you.

As if he read your mind, Niragi spoke up. “How’s your foot? Is it getting better?”

The sweet tone in his voice was so contradictory to his intentions. You hated the fact that he thought you fell for his fake façade. To be honest, he probably knew you didn’t believe him, but continued with it to keep you on your toes.

You glared at him through the top of your eyelids, keeping your head low in suspicion. As Niragi sighed from your unresponsive behaviour, he strutted over towards the bed that you were laying on. You panicked and used your arms to push yourself away from him, being terrified of his presence alone. Spending only a few days with him was enough to make you realise how despicable of a human being he actually was.

“Shh, calm down. It’s just me,” he attempted to calm you.

You froze as he sat on the bed nearby your legs. A pained expression grew on your face as he slowly lifted your injured foot to place it gently on his lap, running his hand carefully over the bandage you had applied before going to sleep.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, glancing up at you. You shook your head no, watching as he smirked slightly and turned back to it.

“I’m going to have a look at it,” he demanded, beginning to unravel the bandage on your foot.

You remained still, watching as he was unusually careful. It made your adrenaline run rapid, not knowing when he was going to suddenly snap.

As he pulled the final layer off your foot, relief filled you when you saw that it was still fine. The injury had turned into a small hole in the top of your foot, no blood or redness in sight. Maybe perhaps you could walk again soon, and be able to replenish your visa that was due to end in a few days.

Unfortunately, Niragi wasn’t as happy about this knowledge, and he intended to do something about it.

“Hmm,” he hummed in thought, leaning over to the night stand and picking up a small unwashed needle that he had kept there. It was left there by Ann a few days ago, as she had to come to the room to stitch up a cut that Niragi had obtained during a game.

Your eyes widened at the sight of him holding the needle close to your bullet wound. “W-Wait, Niragi,” you stuttered, nervous about his intentions. “What are you doing?”

Niragi glanced up at you, a devilish smirk painted across his face. His expression made your stomach churn and you attempted to pull your leg from his grip. Your heart rate picked up and you began to panic when he refused to let go.

“Don’t worry, this won’t hurt much. Just... try not to scream.”

Just as you were about to protest, Niragi pinned your foot onto his lap and pushed the tip of the needle as hard as he could into your bullet wound, making you let out a silent scream and thrash in his hold.

You screamed and screamed and screamed, a horrific pain continuously shot through your foot to your leg. You swore at some point it felt like he was cutting your foot off.

“NIRAGI!” you wailed. “STOP! PLEASE!”

You begged and begged through your cries of pain. After what felt like a century, Niragi pulled the needle out of your foot slowly and placed his hand over the wound to attempt to stop the bleeding. You were now lying on your back, sobbing lightly into the sheets and given up.

You felt Niragi caress your face with the back on his hand lightly. “My little princess needs to stay here, where I can keep her safe. You can’t leave. There’s horrible monsters at The Beach and I would hate for you to fall prey to one of them.”

You felt like screaming at him. How could he be so blind, so ignorant. He was the monster, and he failed to realise it.

He placed your leg off his lap, making you let out a small cry. Niragi crawled further up the bed next to you and sat on the sheets. You were facing away from him, not even daring to turn to look at him. You could hear him unbuttoning his checkered shirt, seeing it fly over your frame and land on the floor. A shiver made its way up your spine as Niragi’s hot breath hit the nape of your neck and his warm limbs snaked around your torso. He placed his hands underneath your shirt and softly caressed the skin of your stomach whilst nipping at the skin on your neck.

“You’re so pretty. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you over these years.”

His words sounded so loving, so sweet. But your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted. A slow, sorrowful tear traveled down your face and you began shaking in his embrace in fear of having him so close. You wanted to close your eyes and wake up back home, back in your own bed with your family’s hushed conversations spread throughout the house. This wasn’t home, this was absolute hell.

“Why are you shaking? Are you cold?” your tormentor asked. He removed his hands from underneath your shirt and pulled on your shoulders to make you turn over to face him. You kept your eyes shut tight, refusing to submit to his demands.

He pulled you close once again and placed his hand on the back of your head to push your face into his bare chest. Niragi’s usual smell of blood and metal filled your nostrils, making you grimace against him.

You continued to shake, not being able to control your movements. Niragi sighed, tucking his chin on the top of your head and nuzzling into your hair, taking a breath of the all too familiar scent of the shampoo you’ve always used for your hair. How you managed to find the exact one in the Borderland was beyond his understanding.

The smell made him feel at home. The comfort he found in you was too strong for him to handle, making him become deranged at the thought of you being back in his arms. It scared him, how much he actually depended on you to keep him happy.

And while he continued to hold you close and smile happily at the feeling of your soft breath against his chest, he failed to notice the continuous flow of tears that cascaded down your face and the shaking of your hands that gripped the top of your own thighs violently, trying to realise the tension of the adrenaline in your veins.

************

You had had enough.

Niragi did nothing but put you through absolute torture and trauma no matter how much you attempted to reason with his psychotic self. Bruises littered your body from his usual violence, committing to the awful promise that he was going to make sure you couldn’t leave the room.

You were imprisoned. It felt as if you were trapped in a cage that had the easiest lock in the world to pick, only you didn’t have hands to unlock it.

So two days after the needle incident, you decided you were going to escape, even if it killed you.

You had to replenish your visa, considering it ended the next night. You feared that Niragi would just leave you to die, not caring about your visa, so you had to take it upon yourself.

You may have had an infected bullet wound and a nearly crushed spirit, but you weren’t going to let this be your end. You had to at least try.

*************

“Oi, I’m leaving now,”

You shifted your eyes from your hands resting in your lap to the tall, deranged man who stood at the door of your room. He had his usual black and white buttoned shirt on, charcoal hair tied up at the top to keep it out of his face and his relaxed hand tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. You almost felt disappointed. How could such a handsome man be wasted by such a horrific mentality.

He carried his loaded sniper rifle in his arm, fiddling with the trigger as he awaited an answer from you.

You nodded your head and turned back to your hands, twiddling your thumbs nervously. You stayed frozen as you heard his footsteps make their way over to you.

Niragi lifted your chin with a harsh grip to your jaw and smashed his lips onto yours. You closed your eyes tightly in discomfort, feeling his desperate lips bite over yours hungrily. It made you feel sick to your stomach.

He pulled away, your lips connected by a string of saliva, making him chuckle. “I’ll be back kitten. Maybe I’ll bring you back a present,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows.

You nodded once again. You knew what he meant. Perhaps an amputated hand of one of your friends? Or the eye of a seeker/hunter to remind you of the “monsters” he’s hiding you from? At this point, you were desensitised to it.

The feeling on his lips on your head brought you from your thoughts. He softly stroked his hand through your hair, tucking slightly on the ends, making you wince.

“Stay here, and don’t answer the door if someone knocks.”

And with that, he left. You stayed completely still for a few minutes, waiting in case he decided to come back just to torment you further.

After you were sure he was completely gone, you shifted to the edge of the bed and swung your legs over the edge to stand up. You had practised walking around the room on your injured foot for the past few days when Niragi wasn’t there, so you had grown used to the random aches that shot up your leg from your bullet wound while walking.

You waddled to the door, slowly swinging it open and grabbing the small knife that sat on the table nearby. You had to have some kind of weapon in case something was to happen.

As you stepped outside, a few people were still making their way down the halls towards the lobby. You noticed a young man that you had somewhat befriended when you first arrived at The Beach named Tatta. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, a smile growing on his face.

“Y/N! Where have you been?!” he exclaimed excitedly, running to you and throwing his arms around you in a playful embrace. You grimaced at his loud voice, being afraid of a certain someone potentially hearing him say your name.

“Hey Tatta,” you said back, giving him a right hug. You swore you felt like you could’ve cried in his arms from how deprived you were from normal human interaction without the fear of being assaulted.

“Are you coming to the games tonight?” he asked, pulling back from the hug and keeping a hand on your shoulder. You nodded. “Can I stick with you?” you asked with hope in your eyes. Tatta smiled and hit your arm lightly. “Of course! I’d feel better going with someone I knew.”

You agreed and began walking down the hall towards the lobby together in a comfortable. Tatta failed to notice you being more cautious, checking around corners before you turned and whipping your head around to glance behind you every now and then.

************

Just your luck, a ten of spades. You swore the world just wanted you dead. At that point, you had become used to the never-ending bullshit that was thrown your way.

You clawed your way to the table that held the card. Holding the single piece of cardboard between your fingers had never felt more satisfying. You slid down against the wall near the registration area, limbs shaking from the muscle strain you faced during the game. Tatta knelt in front of you, rubbing your knee in an attempt to comfort you, but nothing he could do would make you feel better.

Back at The Beach, you sat in the lobby on one of the leather couches, rubbing your foot to try and ease the aching pain coming from your wound. You had heard when you arrived back that the executives had called a meeting, so you weren’t too worried about running into Niragi.

You closed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, rolling your head back to rest against the couch. Moments like that were complete bliss. For a moment, you were able to forget your current situation.

A sudden hand on your shoulder ripped you from your meditation, and you turned your head to see none other than Kuina with a red face and heavily breathing from running. “Hey Y/N,” she started. You sat up and turned around fully to face you.

“The executives want you in the meeting. They heard you collected a high number card and they need you to deliver it.”

Your heart dropped at her words, realising what was coming for you. You had to walk into that meeting room, where Niragi stood. He was going to find out about your little adventure you had without him knowing. Adrenaline filled your senses from the thought of what he was going to do to you.

You slowly stood up, wiping your sweaty hands on your shorts and checking your card was still in the front pocket. You gulped heavily and nodded to Kuina. “Okay, I’ll head there now.”

Every step towards the meeting room was another towards hell. The more stairs you climbed, the more nausea filled your stomach, the more thoughts filled your head. You were seriously just considering throwing yourself off the roof of the hotel, as that seemed like a better option than facing Niragi.

You arrived in front of the double doors, freezing in your path. You don’t know how long you stood there, sighing shakily and attempting to crack your knuckles to relieve tension. But still, as you lifted your hand to push on the large wooden door, your arm shook like a leaf.

You trudged in, hearing the room fall silent at your entry. You refused to look up from the ground, keeping your widened eyes locked to the carpeted ground until you reached the end of the table.

“Ah, Y/N. Finally! Care to show your card?” you heard Hatter ask. You glanced up and caught sight of all the executives gathered around the table on chairs. One of which was of course Niragi.

You locked eyes with the psychotic man, and your stomach dropped when you saw the scowl on his face. He was staring directly into your soul, eyes hardened with anger and unforgiveness. If looks could kill, you would’ve been on the floor dead before you even made it to the table.

You focused on the task at hand and pulled the card from your pocket, placing the somewhat damaged ten of spades on the table. Hatter reached over and held it close to his face to examine it as everyone watched. Well, everyone except Niragi, who held his piercing gaze on you. You swore you could feel him burning holes through your skin.

“Hmm,” Hatter hummed in approval. “Thank you very much Y/N, that will be all,” he said, making a shooing movement towards you.

You nodded and thanked him before quickly walking out of the room. As soon as you stepped out, you broke into a sprint towards you and Niragi’s shared room.

You had to leave the room before the meeting finished. You feared the absolute worse.

When you arrived at the room, you ripped open the door and scrambled inside, groaning at the pain your foot was in. You didn’t have a choice, you had to hurry.

You made your way to the large closet, immediately reaching for the top shelf to pull down the miniature machine gun that Niragi stored up there as a spare. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to know about it, but you managed to spot him tucking it underneath the clothes at some point.

As you were shuffling around the cupboard trying to find some bullets desperately, annoyed and stressed sighs and gasps leaving your mouth, you froze when the sound of the door opening hit your ears. Immediately assuming the worst, you grabbed the door of the cupboard and closed yourself inside, attempting to enveloped yourself in the piles of clothes and resources.

The keyhole in the door of the cupboard allowed you to have a small space to look through. You closed one eye and glanced through the hole, spotting Niragi placing his sniper rifle on the bed and untying his hair, running his hands through it in stress.

You didn’t dare even breath, keeping all your limbs tucked close so you didn’t knock over anything. You were so afraid that Niragi would even hear the sound of your heart beating, as it was as loud as a drum in your own ears.

You grimaced as a sudden putrid smell filled your nose. The smell of fresh flesh that you were all too familiar with from living in the Borderland. You turned around in the cupboard and moved to the side so the light of the keyhole would at least somewhat illuminate the small space. The sight in front of you was enough to make you throw up.

There sat Tatta (or at least, Tatta’s remains), empty eyed and leaning against the back of the cupboard. Bullet holes littered his once kind face, probably counting eight at least. You covered your mouth in horror, letting out a loud cry at the sight, pushing your legs against the ground to scramble away from your dead friend.

Once again, just like the other day during the needle incident, you screamed and screamed and screamed. You fell backwards out of the closet, curling into a small ball and screeching into your palm in horror at the now clearer sight of your friend’s corpse. 

Everything was crumbling around you. Your voice was being ripped to shreds at the back of your throat. Your mind was falling apart, not being able to handle the traumatising events that you’ve faced, breaking and tearing itself apart. Your body was broken. Bruises and scars scattered your frame like an artwork, each one holding a connected traumatic event.

Niragi sat on the bed, watching as you screamed on the ground over by the corner of the room, tears sliding down his tanned cheeks.

What had happened to you? Why did you change so much in these few years?

Niragi slowly stood and made his way over to your shaking frame, hooking his arms underneath your shoulders and knees to lift you bridle style. He smiled sadly down at your shivering frame, not being able to control your rapid movements.

“Aw baby, you’re a mess,” he cried, a sob escaping his mouth halfway through his sentence.

He brought you back over to the bed, crawling on his knees to the centre of the mattress and crossing his legs to lay you in his lap with your head tucked into the crook of his elbow.

He brushed your hair with his fingers, trying to ease your breathing as you kept your eyes tightly shut in fear. “I tried to warn you. Look what happened,” he chuckled through his tears, motioning his head over towards the cupboard. “Do you like your present? I saw you walking with him on your way back to the hotel and thought it would be perfect. Why don’t you like it?”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him with fear all written all over your face. You didn’t dare move from his embrace, being too afraid.

Niragi smiled as he caught sight of your glistening eyes, reaching a hand up and stroking his thumb along your cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he breathed out, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

You brought your shaking hands up and rubbed your face before finally speaking up. “I want to go home,” you desperately whispered, turning your head and pressing your face against Niragi’s clothed chest. He watched as you brought your hand up and gripped the material of his shirt in your fist tightly, conveying anger and stress through your grip.

“You are home kitten,” he states, rubbing his cheek against your head. “I’m your home. I always have been.”

He wasn’t lying to you, and that was the pill that was hard to swallow. Niragi had been your source of comfort for so long, and for once in your life, it felt foreign to lay in his arms and to look into his night eyes.

Oh how weird it felt to look at something that conveyed such sweetness, such delicacy and such empathy, only for it to be utterly ruined by its environment.

You’d like to think that it wasn’t either of your faults. But in the end, it doesn’t depend on the environment, it depends on how you react to it.

Neither of you were perfect, but you were both incredibly different. It never would’ve worked between the two of you, and being in the Borderland did nothing but strengthen that fact. In the end, your differences would either tear you apart from each other emotionally, or you would tear each other apart limb from limb.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I’m back to finishing off the fanfic requests that have been sent to me because I finished all the prompt scenarios. I won’t be doing another part to this because I honestly struggled for so long trying to figure out a plot for this one 😭 But anyway thanks so much for your patience. I’ll be uploading these fanfics as quick as I can! ❤❤

Small addition to this fanfic talking about Niragi’s motives and intentions

[themotherofhorses]

or else they better dig two | b.b.

summary: the man standing before you was not your husband. not in the slightest. However, he was sorry. so fucking sorry. his white eyes showed you that. 

pairing: bucky barnes x wife!reader

warning(s): angst, major wounds, kinda zombie!bucky?, main character/variant death, the ol’ winter soldier but 10x worse. bucky’s variant is from earth-807128 and, lemme tell ya, it is absolutely brutal in that universe.

a/n: um, yea, well, decided to give this a try. it’s short but simple. inspired by The Band Perry’s “Better Dig Two”.

It had been almost two months since you last seen your husband. Five weeks since he went complete radio silent. And thirteen days since his identification marker disappeared off the grid. 

You were quite concerned, to say the least. 

A few times would Bucky not answer for days at a time. The longest was five weeks, but that was before he sent you a surprised "I'm coming home bby" text, and his tiny bright-red marker sparkled as he grew closer to both New York and you. 

But his ID marker had never disappeared off the S.H.I.E.L.D intel atlas. Not once during his entire career as an Avenger/S.H.I.E.L.D agent. That’s why you knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You could feel it, deep in your bones. It made you feel a little sick.

Nick Fury was instantly made aware of this situation. He spent ten minutes just staring at the screen before directing both Steve and Sam to pack up. They would be deployed to Bucky's last known location and do a thorough areal search. It could be several reasons why he isn't showing up anymore, Maria Hill murmured, From a possibly fatal wound to an enemy ambush. 

"Don't worry," she said with a tight-lipped smile that did not reach her eyes, "We'll find him. Or, better yet, Steve will. Cap would not allow his best friend to vanish off the face of the earth again. You know that. I know that. Everyone in this compound knows it."

With nothing really left to do, you wished Steve and Sam a bit of good luck and assured them that you’d update with anything new that came up in the database. It would take them roughly eight hours to reach Belgrade. Time was ticking. You felt nauseous. 

Three days later, you received a much-needed update that didn’t do anything to alleviate your fears. Bucky's S.H.I.E.L.D-issued backpack was dug up near a desolate cabin within the Molin Forest. Scrapes of dark blood splattered the cabin's flooring, along with the most overpowering and appalling smell. It smells like a...like a dead body, Sam stated, covering his nose. Beside him, Steve dropped his head. 

Tony left the room and Natasha threw her arms around you, holding you close as you wailed. Fury gave them the choice: come back home or search for the body. 

They chose the latter. But they could not locate the remains of your husband. of your Bucky.

You felt nauseous again. 

It had been almost three weeks since then. Condolences begin to pile in. “I am so sorry…It must be so devastating to lose your husband…To be a widow this young…If there is anything I can do….” 

Then, the U.S. Army reached out, requesting if you wish for your husband to be buried in Arlington. 

“He’ll be laid to rest alongside other members of the WWII Howling Commando Unit. There will be a plot next to him, reserved for you as his wife, of course.”

It was almost too much to take. 

You want to scream and shout and cry because your husband is not dead, dammit. 

To take your mind off of the most… recent issues, you decide to tuck yourself away inside your bedroom and reorganize the closet. On the left side, your clothing. On the right, Bucky's. You color-coordinated his Henley's and straightened up his boots, wondering if you should polish them as well. 

No. Bucky prefers for his boots to be scuffed up. He likes to see the tiny scratches when the sunlight hits them. They’re like ‘little badges’ as he jokingly says. 

You leave them alone and move on to the next. 

As you're folding away shirts into the dresser, you hear a slight stumble outside. It sounds like someone almost tripped. You immediately stop what you're doing and listen. The footsteps are heavy against the hardwood. You could recognize them from a mile away. 

"Bucky!" You shriek, feeling like crying from utter relief as you run towards him. "For the gods' sake, Bucky! You fucking terrified me! Where were you-" You suddenly stop in your steps, eyes widening in horror.

“Bucky?” 

It's Bucky. But it's... it's not your Bucky. 

Your hands are quick in an attempt to trap the ghastly scream that escapes your mouth. Somewhere, in the background, you can hardly make out FRIDAY asking if you require immediate emergency assistance. 

It won't help, you think. It won't do jack shit. 

Because Bucky is standing before you, 6′ft or so in the Winter Soldier suit.

Thick, ebony leather from neck to toe, with numerous weaponry and devices strapped to his waist. One thigh holds a pistol, his back carries another. His old metal arm, the one with the red star, hums with electricity. Over his mouth is the same black muzzle, which hides away the majority of his face. It leaves just his eyes to be seen, a pale white that is practically blinding.

“Bucky...”

A fat tear drips down your cheek as you take notice of the pitchfork buried deep in his chest. It's still fresh, blood trickling onto the floor. It matches the dried red along his scalp. 

Yet, despite all his injuries and everything, Bucky stands motionless, every so often a twitch in his shoulders. 

"Bucky...Oh, gods, what did they do to you, baby?"   

He blinks, once, twice, four times. You stand, hushed, as you await his next move. Then, the skin between his brows creases, and he mumbles something. It's muffled, it's weak, yet you can hear it perfectly.

It's your name. 

"Kill me. Kill me. Kill me..."

"Do it. Do it. Do it…" 

"Please. Please. Please..."

You cannot move, nor can you think. Instead, you feel that familiar urge to suddenly vomit. When he sees that you haven’t done anything, he recites his pleas, each one a massive stab at your heart.

"Kill me. Kill me. Kill me..."

"Do it. Do it. Do it…" 

"Please. Please. Please..."

You take a deep breath, biting back a large sob. In the back, amongst the walls, FRIDAY lets you know that Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Clint are rushing their way up to your floor.

“Do not worry, Mrs. Barnes. An on-site emergency medical team is on its way. ETA five minutes.”

But you know that any attempts would all be in vain. 

There is no saving this Bucky, whoever he may be with these white eyes. You hope Steve will understand when he enters and sees the aftermath. Maybe he will if he realizes that this Bucky wasn’t yours, you tell yourself as you reach for the gun at your side. 

And this would’ve been your last choice in any scenario given.

"I’m so sorry but I won’t have you endure this any longer. I’m better than that. I know it’s painful. Don’t worry, though, I will avenge you. Steve will avenge you. We‘ll all avenge you.” You raise your gun, finger heavy on the trigger.

He makes a deep drawl that kind of resembles a Steeevvvieee?

You nod, blinking back tears, “If we meet again, I beg you, please forgive me...”

A second later, Bucky collapses to the ground, forehead wet with new blood.

“Th...Thankkk...Yooouu...”

You have to remind yourself that this wasn’t your Bucky. Your Bucky isn’t dead on the floor with a bullet in his brain and a pitchfork in his chest. He’s gonna come back, you repeat, rocking yourself back and forth as you eye all the blood pooling around the body.

That wasn’t him. 

It was not. 

He’s gonna come home. 

Or else they better dig two.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Anything, For You

This is a continuation of Anything. Please be sure to read that part first if you want some context!

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal and Anal), Threesome (Double Penetration), Weed / Alcohol Use, Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Public Foreplay, Public Humiliation, Spanking, Choking, Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 12,128

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader x Guitarist!Kirishima Eijirou

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

Not specifically written for, but using it for the @bnhabookclub​​ ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Threesome

Bingo Masterlist

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Art in banner by me

Tag list: @lady-bakuhoe​ , @gallickingun​ , @unbreakableeiji​ , @boom-bakugou​ , @honeytama​ , @wakaoujisenhime​ , @ikinabi​ , @thotpatrolcaptain​ , @1-800-callmekatsuki​ , @tomurasprincess​ , @bratwritings​ 

You nervously tightened your grip on the small clutch in your hands, digging your nails into the faux leather and ignoring the sting of the metal pointed studs against your skin. For a few minutes now, you had just been standing outside of the club Garden, listening to the loud music and watching the flashing neon lights every time the door opened. With each group of people leaving, stumbling out drunk and high off adrenaline from dancing, the same amount were let in from an insanely long line, which even curved around the building to where you couldn’t see. There were so many people waiting to go in, and yet, you knew that you could just bypass this line and go on in. 

Why were you so nervous? 

It wasn’t the thought that you would be glared or yelled at by the people waiting if you skipped the line. Sure, it might make you a bit embarrassed if they picked at you, but that wasn’t the problem. No, it was who was waiting inside the club and who gave you that exact privilege to just come on in that terrified you. 

Bakugou 10:50 pm: come to the club Garden downtown around 1 am. just show your ID at the door and theyll let you in past the line. 

Me 10:51 pm: Just me? 

Bakugou 10:51 pm: just you, babe. your shitty friends arent invited. 

After releasing a trembling breath, you opened your clutch to take a quick look at your phone, giving a small groan at the time that showed 1:02 am. It was time to go in, but you were so damn nervous. How could you not be? Showing up to a strange and very crowded club, to hang out and drink with your favorite people - or, well, person - on this planet? With what happened earlier that night, you knew that any type of debauchery could go down, and the stinging welts on your asscheek were testament to that. But there was going to be way more involved. More people, alcohol, and most likely some type of drugs, for sure. You knew that you’d need to be vigilant, but being in Bakugou’s presence again, you weren’t sure you’d have the willpower to say no to anything that was handed your way. 

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your hand, startling you enough to make you jump and almost lose your balance on your chunky, boot style platform heels. Looking at the screen, the fire in your cheeks grew hotter, reading the text that Bakugou had just sent you. 

Bakugou 1:03 am: where are you at, babygirl? scared? 

Me 1:03 am: No, I’m about to come in. There’s… a lot of people.

Bakugou 1:04 am: fuck them and come inside. there’s someone waiting to bring you up.

Releasing a trembling breath, you put your phone back in your clutch and pulled out your ID instead, gathering your courage to walk up to the front door. One of the two bouncers immediately looked down at you with a threatening posture, though his demeanor changed at the sight of your timid presence. 

“Skipping the line?” 

“I… have VIP permissions. From Bakugou Katsuki… I’m [f/n] [l/n]. He said I should be on a list.” 

Taking your ID, the bouncer first checked it over with a flashlight to confirm its authenticity, before picking up a clipboard that was resting on a stool beside him. It only took him a moment before finding your name, smiling and giving a nod. “Yep, there you are. Follow me.” Putting the clipboard down and handing you the ID back, he made his way through the front door, at first holding it open for some people leaving before allowing you through. 

Any objections you may have heard from the people in line were immediately drowned out by the music, the heavy beat shaking the ground. It was quite dark in the large industrial style building, with only blacklights and flashing neon skylights illuminating the dancefloor. Though, up one floor, you could see a loft area with mostly regular lighting, though it was dimmed, and you wondered if that’s where you would be going. 

Following the bouncer as he made his way past, you used his impressive height and size to push through the crowds, since he was easily able to part the sea of bouncing drunken bodies. He led you to the stairs, as you had expected, and started to make his way up, only giving you a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still following. Or to make sure that no one else was coming up, either. You weren’t sure. 

As you made your way up, you felt a bit embarrassed that the stairway was mostly exposed, using your free hand to hold your short dress up against your backside to hopefully keep anyone from seeing anything private. You weren’t wearing any hose this time, since the only ones you had brought with you into town for the concert were the fishnets that Bakugou had destroyed earlier. Your only cute pair of underwear had also been destroyed, so right after the concert, you had to hunt some down. All you could find at the only store still open was a pair of cute little lace boy short style panties, which were quite sexy and were decently invisible under your dress. You knew that they would be, since you got them from a damn porn shop. There was nothing else open at midnight, so there was no choice. It still ended up perfect, though. If something else did end up happening, you assumed he would like them. Or you hoped so. 

The closer you got to the loft, you realized that it was actually surrounded by glass. The only thing that was solid was the door, which was opened after a loud series of knocks from the bouncer. After a click, another man opened it up, glancing first at your guide before down to you. “She’s invited?” 

“Yes. [f/n] [l/n]. Bakugou’s guest.” Stepping aside, the bouncer and what appeared to be a security guard allowed you inside, the door shutting immediately once you passed the threshold. The sudden volume difference of the room startled you a bit, as did the change in lighting, but you were quick to take in your surroundings. 

There were multiple couches and chairs scattered about in strategic locations, along with tables that were already piled up with drinks. The room was much smaller than it seemed, with only one other door along the back solid wall, which you assumed was a bathroom. Then, your eyes landed on the men you adored, and your entire body instantly flushed with heat as you noticed all their eyes on you. 

“Your clutch, ma’am?” 

The security guard pulled you out of your stupor, holding his hand out in front of you. Nervously, you placed it in his hand, watching as he placed it in a bag behind him and zipped it up. Immediately after, he ran some type of long beeping device across the front and back of your body about an inch away, which you assumed was a metal detector. When it didn’t go off, he allowed you to walk further in with a wave of his hand, and you timidly stepped forward while pulling down your dress, clearing your throat a bit in awkwardness. 

“Hey there, babygirl.” Bakugou spoke with a sly smirk on his face, holding a glass of dark colored liquor near his lips. “Finally made it. Took you fucking long enough.” 

“Sorry…” Making your way towards the couch he was on, you took a moment to look at the other members, trying to control the nervous swirling of your stomach. “Nice to see you all again…” 

“You were in our first meet up group, right?” Midoriya smiled at you, placing his hand on the thigh of a curvaceous woman that was placed firmly on his lap. His voice was still quite strained and cracked, worn from the performance. “Kacchan told me he invited someone, but he didn’t tell me who!” 

“Because it’s none of your damn business, Deku,” With a snap of his finger as he held his hand out towards you, Bakugou commanded you over to him silently. Not even taking a second to think about it, you approached, taking his hand. He led you with only a gentle pull to stand between his legs, placing both of his hands on your outer thighs. “You look good, babygirl.” 

“T-thank you-” You were cut off by the sound of a door closing, along with an annoyed whine. 

“Aww, what the fuck?! Even Bakugou was able to get a girl this time, and he never does! I must have really sucked today.” Huffing, Kaminari shuffled his way towards an empty armchair, flopping down to sit with his legs stretched out in front of him, toes pointed towards the ceiling. “Bullshit.” 

“You suck all the time, dunceface.” 

“I do not! All the girls wanted me at our last gig.” 

“Yeah, because both Deku and Kirishima were out of commission after that, so they had no other option. Don’t be such a little bitch, if you want girls, go fucking dance.” Although Bakugou’s snappy demands were directed at his companion, his glazed over crimson eyes never left your body. They scanned over every inch of you quite diligently, as if he were missing you greatly just from these few hours apart. Unsure of what to do with your hands, you let one rest tenderly on his bicep while running the other softly through his bangs, pulling the fair blonde hair loose of the light grip of sweat that stuck it to his skin. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or maybe his intoxication, but you could have sworn that you could see the tips of his ears flush with your touch. 

“But I don’t want to go dance alone!” Kaminari whined, sinking further into the chair. His voice broke your concentration on the man in front of you, looking at the pouting bass player over your shoulder. It was odd, you thought, that there weren’t as many girls in here as you expected. Actually, there was only you and the girl with Midoriya, whose attention was fully on him, hands on his freckled cheeks and playfully squishing them together. Her bobbed brunette hair gave away who she was, as you had seen her in many of his social media postings, but you couldn’t quite remember her name. All you knew was that they were dating and had been friends for a very long time, but that didn’t really matter right now. 

Kirishima sighed, resting his arms up over the back of the couch, his hand pulling your attention as it came to rest decently close to Bakugou’s head, though the drummer didn’t protest or seem to even notice. “C’mon, man, don’t be such a downer! I think you need to take another hit and get down there. Take Todoroki with you.” 

Kaminari scoffed, looking over at the silent member of their band, who was more focused on his phone and his fancy martini looking drink than anything they were talking about. “What, so he can go stand in the middle of the dancefloor like a weirdo? He doesn’t have any dancing rhythm! He barely moves when we’re performing!” 

“Yeah, but girls like him more than you, he’d help you catch their attention.” 

“Now you’re all just being assholes!” Huffing, Kaminari sat up and leaned forward, snatching up a small glass pipe and the lighter beside it. “It’s not my fault that no one likes the bass players! I’m not as cool as you!” 

“Hey, I’ve offered to play bass sometimes.” Kirishima grinned, reaching over to scratch the side of his nose. “But Bakugou won’t let us switch--” 

“Fuck no.” Bakugou interrupted, now glowering at his friends, both of his strong hands resting on your hips firmly. “That’s too much power I’m not willing to give you, dunceface.” 

“Rude.” Grumbling under his breath, Kaminari glared down at the pipe as he brought it to his lips, lighting it up and taking a hit. The smell of weed hit your nose immediately as he exhaled, the cloud of smoke leaving his lips slowly as he leaned back in the chair. “Midoriya would.” 

“Because he’s a dipshit.” 

“You’re so aggressive today! I think you’re the one that needs a hit, bro.” 

“Fuck that shit. I’m not looking to fall asleep any time soon.” 

“You’re up way past your bedtime, anyway. Grandpa.” Passing the pipe and lighter over to Kirishima as he beckoned for it, Kaminari gave a sly smirk, knowing he could press Bakugou’s buttons while you were in his way. You could feel Bakugou’s grip tighten in irritation and see his brows furrow, but to your surprise, he was quick to calm, giving an annoyed click of his tongue as he used only slight pressure to pull you to the side, gesturing to the couch for you to sit. You did so, now effectively squished between the two men, one taking a hit while the other gulped down what was left of his drink. 

If you were honest, you felt quite… awkward. You didn’t really know what to do with yourself and you weren’t sure if talking would be welcomed. You were new to this tight knit group, and even though you admired and adored every single one of them, you almost felt like you didn’t belong there. Were you really worthy of being in their presence like this or being so close to Bakugou as he rested an arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his side? It felt like a dream, and you were horrified that at any moment, you would wake up to find yourself lonely in your hotel bed. 

“Want a hit, sweetheart?” 

Your thoughts were disrupted by Kirishima’s pleasant ringing voice, his smile soft and comforting as he held the pipe and lighter towards you. At first, you hid your face a bit behind Bakugou’s forearm, fiddling with your nails. “I’ve never done it before… I probably shouldn’t.” 

“Aw c’mon, you should! You’re safe here with us! That’s pretty cool, too, isn’t it? To have you first hit ever with your favorite band.” Kirishima’s eyes left yours for a moment as he glanced up, most likely at Bakugou, though there wasn’t anything malicious that you could see. He was genuinely being very nice about it, and so far, no one had protested. Still, you looked up at Bakugou for approval, a sly smirk crossing his lips when you did so. 

“What, babygirl? Looking for permission?” 

Feeling heat rush to your cheeks at his domineering tone, you nodded. “Yes. Is it okay?” 

“What do you say?” His rough fingers took hold of your chin, tilting your head up as he leaned in, whisky tainted lips brushing against yours. Your heart began to race, chest heaving with steady, heavy breaths as you parted your lips expectantly. But, you were left with nothing until you answered, and you did so without a second thought or worry about what anyone else in the room might think. 

“Please, Katsuki.” 

A low hum resonated in his chest in satisfaction of your response, pressing his hot lips against yours to reward you for being so obedient. Or, at least, that’s how you understood it. In the few hours that you had been away from him, there hadn’t been a single moment of lucidness where you felt like you had escaped whatever hold he had placed on you. In fact, your wanting to be at his side only grew worse, to hear him praise you and reward you when you were a good girl for him. 

His praise. His touch. His attention. All of it was so intoxicating, and you wanted more. 

When he set your lips free after just a short moment, it took only a light bump to your chin to have you turn your head to look back at Kirishima, who was waiting patiently. He was still smiling, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eye, as if he had been waiting to see just how obedient you still were. It was gone with a blink, his pleasant and cheerful demeanor taking over as he held the pipe up between his fingers. 

“Yeah? Gonna do it, sweetheart?” 

“Sure,” You answered meekly, turning a bit more to face him. “Uhm… How do I do it?” 

Kirishima was very thorough in his explanation of how to use the pipe, and by the time he was done, you felt confident that you could do it. Though, your confidence didn’t amount to much, as you still ended up with quite the coughing fit after your first hit. Behind the coughing and burning in your throat, you could hear Kaminari gasp out in surprise, though you couldn’t quite focus on him yet through the smoke. 

“Holy shit, Kirishima, you should have just prepped it for her, that’s gonna fuck her up!” 

Chuckling, Kirishima handed you a cup of water, which you gulped down eagerly. “She’s fine, that wasn’t that bad! A little too aggressive on sucking it in, but you’ll get it down. You okay?” He gave your thigh a few comforting pats, his lingering on your bare skin not quite registering in your mind as you tried to calm the burning in your throat. Thankfully, it was fading decently quick, but it still wasn’t anything like what you had expected. 

“I’m okay,” You choke out after a moment, placing both the glass of water and the pipe down on the coffee table in front of you. “You guys make it look so easy!” 

“That’s because they’re fucking potheads.” Bakugou pulled you back up against him. “Especially Dunceface over there. Can’t go five minutes without being high.”

“Don’t be telling lies about me, Kacchan.” Kaminari waddled a finger at his friend, and you could tell that he was feeling pretty relaxed compared to a while ago. “It’s more like three minutes.” 

“Shut up. Where the fuck’s our bartender? We haven’t gotten new drinks-” 

“-Let’s go down, then!” Kaminari hopped up to his feet, clapping his hands together to try and get his friends riled up. “Let’s get some drinks and dance like we’re normal people, no one’s gonna recognize us down there, it’s too dark! This VIP shit gets boring sometimes. Right, Todoroki?” With a bounce in his step, he walked over behind the couch his quiet friend was sitting on, giving him a firm smack on the shoulders. “You’re just over here on your phone! Let’s go dance!” 

Todoroki took his friend shaking him from side to side like a champ, not looking away from his phone or spilling his drink. “I’ll sit at the bar, but I’m not going to dance.” 

“You will after a couple of shots. Midoriya? Ochaco?” 

 “Let’s go, Deku!” Hopping up off his lap, the brunette took both of Midoriya’s hands, trying to pull him up with meager strength. “Let’s all go!” 

With a heavy sigh in defeat, Midoriya stood, as did Todoroki. Though, there was no movement from either of the two men beside you, so you glanced between them curiously. Kirishima seemed interested, while Bakugou looked like he wanted to throw them all off the balcony just to get some peace. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of being here, the electric energy from Kaminari, or the hit you had taken, but you really wanted to go. You were feeling restless and, if you were honest, kind of bummed out that you were still the only one who hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. You came here to have a good time with these guys. With Bakugou. But how could you talk him into it? 

“You losers coming or not?” Kaminari barked before you could say a word, glowering at the three of you still plastered on the couch as he stood by the door, waiting for their security guard to unlock it and step out. “Kacchan, you were complaining about drinks, come down and get some with us!” 

“Fuck, fine! If it will shut you up!” 

Everything changed pace in a blink of an eye from that moment. Before you knew it, you had taken two shots of… something, and sucked down a drink faster than you thought you would, all while watching the bouncing bodies on the dance floor with Bakugou at your side. Though, he wasn’t just standing next to you. His arm was hooked around your waist like a vice, his powerful and off-putting presence preventing any man with wandering eyes from even considering trying to come up to you. At first, you felt a bit embarrassed that he was so close and so protective, but you also couldn’t help but feel… flattered. And that flattery brought up a new bubbling in your belly. 

You were so happy. Again, you didn’t know if it was because of the high or the alcohol, but you were absolutely beyond tickled. It was such a strong sensation, in fact, that you couldn’t help but start to bounce on your feet and sway to the music. Your hips bumped into Bakugou’s as he stood beside you, one arm around your shoulders while the other propped him up on the bar counter. With the bump, he tightened his arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him and pressing his lips against your ear so you could hear him over the blaring music. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Dancing!” You responded near his ear as he turned his head to hear you. “I like this song!” 

“You call that dancing?” With his insult, he moved his arm around your back and gave you a small push forward towards the dance floor, smirking at the confusion on your face when you looked back at him. Taking your drink from your hands, he finished off the last bit of it before leaving it on the counter behind him, giving your ass a tap to guide you forward. Within moments, you were both swallowed by the giant group of sweating, bouncing bodies, all who had little to no care on who they were touching or where they were moving. 

And yet, with Bakugou's arms around your waist from behind, you felt like you were completely enveloped in your own bubble. Just you, him, and the music. What truly snapped your restraint was his deep growl in your ear, tugging your hips tightly back so that your ass was firmly pressed against him. 

“Show me how you can really dance, babygirl.” 

No one would truly call the way you rubbed your bodies against each other to the rhythm of the music “dancing”, but all your body could comprehend in your intoxicated state. The flashing neon lights, from pitch black to strobing, was almost making you dizzy, and the only thing that seemed to alleviate the disorientation was putting all your focus on Bakugou. 

The way you two moved was seamless and in tune, his hands freely roaming your body with no fears of being noticed within the densely packed group. Even if someone did notice, you wouldn’t care. All you cared about was his lips against the skin of your neck, his fingers digging into your plush curves and the hard presence of his cock beneath his pants. Just feeling it against your ass made you remember how good he felt fucking you, the way he filled up every inch of your aching cunt and made you scream for him. 

How he made you his. 

How you would do anything for him. 

How he owned you. 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” 

The voice in your ear was a sweet growl; more of a purr to calm and coax you. It was so comforting that you almost forgot where you were for a moment, until you did as you were told. Instead of a group of dancing bodies in front of you, you were met with a clear view of that brilliant, wide grin sported only by Kirishima. He was in front of you, dancing with you and Bakugou together, his hands also firmly on your body to keep you pinned between the two men. 

Your entire body immediately flushed hot, pressing further back against Bakugou to try and get some space between you and the redhead. “K-Kiri-!” 

“Don’t you even think about it.” Bakugou growled in your ear, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Let him touch you.” 

You didn’t have much time to even consider complying before Bakugou moved you both forward, not allowing you any space or chance to dip out from between them. You were trapped. How long had Kirishima even been there? Whose hands had been touching you this entire time, squeezing your breasts and your hips so eagerly? Had it been both of them? Whose hand was that right now, sliding up your thigh and bringing your dress with it. 

What was happening? They couldn’t actually be thinking about touching you here on the dancefloor, could they? In the privacy of the VIP room, maybe, but out here in the middle of all these people? Someone would notice! 

You tried to squeak out a plea to stop, but Bakugou’s hand around your throat stopped any little sound from slipping out. Instead, your hips were pulled forward and snug against Kirishima’s, one of his legs between yours so that you were practically sitting on his thigh. But that wasn’t where your hips were directed. Instead, with the beat of the music, Kirishima rutted his hips against you, and you could easily feel the hard presence of his cock against your scantily clothed sex. He was wearing loose black joggers, so there was basically nothing between you, and with both men surrounding you completely and still moving with the music, there was no hope of someone noticing. 

Needing to ground yourself, you clutched on to both of Kirishima’s biceps, his hands set firmly on your hips. The digging of your nails into his skin only seemed to spur him on further, becoming rougher with his thrusts, and the more he stroked across your clit, the more you began to lose yourself. It felt so good, even though you knew that it shouldn’t. It was Bakugou all over again, fucking your throat raw as your essence dripped down your thighs, just as it was now. Kirishima was using you for his own gratification, and Bakugou was allowing it. This wasn’t okay. 

You clenched your eyes shut tightly as Bakugou’s hands moved to caress your breasts, squeezing them roughly and eagerly pinching your nipples. You heard him groan in your ear, his attention to your nipples increasing as he noticed the little studs in place. “Oh fuck, babygirl, I didn’t know you had piercings here, too. I’m an idiot for not stripping you in the changing room, but I’m not going to make that mistake tonight.” 

His teeth sinking into the skin of your neck and another harsh twist made your body jolt, a moan involuntarily slipping through your lips. Before it could get far, it was devoured by Kirishima, who kissed you passionately to silence you. 

What should I do? It feels good, but… I didn’t want Kirishima like this! 

A rough nibble to your lip forced your mouth open, unable to stop or resist Kirishima's tongue from invading. He tasted like weed and the sour sting of an energy drink still on his lips, but that isn’t what made you want to pull away. Was he… a better kisser than Bakugou? No one could be better than the blonde behind you… at anything! And yet, here Kirishima was, making you completely breathless and absolutely on fire. It wasn’t so brash or dominating, either. 

You loved it. A lot.

A moan leaked through the kiss as Bakugou moved his lips to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it before nibbling harshly at the delicate skin below. “You like his cock rubbing up against you, baby? You like being pinned between us like the little desperate whore you are?”

Kirishima finally released your lips, giving you a chance to take in deep trembling breaths. “Yes, Katsuki! But I— “

“What?”

“I really have to pee!”

Both men paused with your proclamation, watching your face in confusion as you stood there trembling in their grip. You hadn’t been lying, and it was clear as day in your flushed face. You needed to go to the restroom. If you didn’t, you knew there would be an accident all over yourself and the two men that held you. 

“You’re serious?” Kirishima spoke loudly enough so you could hear him, and you nodded with urgency. After glancing at Bakugou, he took a step back, awkwardly trying to make his boner mostly invisible behind his joggers. “Okay. I’d rather you not piss all over.”

Bakugou turned your head towards him, his glare immediately making your legs feel weak. “He’ll take you upstairs. I’m going to get more drinks and meet you up there. You better not be using this as an excuse, or I’ll have to punish you.”

“I-it’s not, Katsuki, I promise- mmph!” You were silenced as he kissed your lips roughly, his frustration at having to stop apparent. Then, with a rough tap to your ass, you were urged forward and into Kirishima’s arms. You didn’t get a chance to glance back at Bakugou as you were led through the crowd, Kirishima using his height and size to easily push through and bump people out of the way without too much inconvenience to you. Much to your surprise, he was quite attentive of you, pulling you out of the way of wild swinging arms and keeping a firm grip on you in case you were tripped by stray feet. 

By the time you finally reached the stairs, you were completely worn out and feeling like your bladder was about to erupt. Still, you made it up the stairs and into the singular bathroom before you could piss yourself, and as you sat on the toilet, you could truly feel how intoxicated you were. You weren’t sure if your mind was spinning from the alcohol, the weed, or the incredible rush that you had felt on the dancefloor. You could feel, however, that you were incredibly sweaty, your hair sticking to your forehead, cheeks and the back of your neck like it was glued to your skin. Though, the wetness at your cunt and spread across your inner thighs was even worse. 

You couldn’t believe that you had gotten so wet and turned on from what they had done to you. Even your pathetic excuse for underwear was completely soaked through, your essence thick and visible on the black fabric. The way they had cornered you like that wasn’t something that should have excited you so much, yet here you were, trembling and dripping wet. And now, you were caught up here in this room with Kirishima. Who knows how long it might take Bakugou to get the drinks, since the bar was incredibly busy and it had taken nearly fifteen minutes to get yours earlier. 

With a defeated sigh, you wiped and decided to clean yourself up the best you could, even patting your underwear with toilet paper. In the end, the attempt wasn’t very successful, and you almost wanted to rip them back off the instant you pulled them back up to your hips. 

After washing your hands and spending a few minutes fixing your hair and wiping your face and neck of sweat, you left the restroom, finding Kirishima standing near the coffee table with the weed pipe in his hands. He gave you a comforting smile as you approached, taking a hit and blowing the smoke away from you. “Feel better, sweetheart?” 

“Yes… Uhm… Why did-” 

“Want another hit?” Kirishima interrupted you, as if he knew exactly what you were about to ask and wanted to avoid it while he could. “You’re more relaxed now, you’ll get it this time. It’ll calm your nerves, too. You’re trembling like a leaf, babe.”

“I’m… not sure.” 

“You don’t want Bakugou to see you all nervous and uptight, do you?” 

The tone of his voice instantly made your stomach twist, able to hear the slightest twinge of a threat mixed in with the worried question. Of course you didn’t want Bakugou to see you like this. You had just been so peppy and energetic down on the dancefloor, he would surely be annoyed if you grew so timid all the sudden. So, without a word, you took the pipe and lighter, doing everything you could to ignore the twist at the corner of his lips. 

Letting out a trembling breath, you brought the pipe to your lips, able to inhale, hold, and exhale without any urges to cough outside of a slight clearing of your throat. Chuckling, Kirishima took the pipe and lighter from you, setting them down again. “See! Look at you! A natural.” 

“It’s stronger this time.” 

“Yeah, I cleaned it out and prepped it again while you were in the restroom.” As he spoke, you made your way over to the front of the room, looking out of the glass and down at the bar, scanning for the blonde you had left behind. It didn’t take you long to see him, sitting on a stool as he awaited the delivery of the drinks. Though, you instantly felt heat rush to your fluttering stomach, surprised to see that he was already staring up at you. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could almost feel the icy daggers of his glare on your skin. In fact, your entire body was tingling, your mind growing dull while your body felt like every inch of you was being lightly pricked with needles. It was as if you could feel everything. Your hair tickling the back of your neck. Your dress tight against your chest. Your hot and wet underwear clung tightly against your folds and your clit. 

“Find him?” Kirishima nearly startled you enough to make you jump as he came to stand beside you, looking around curiously at all the activity below. “He sticks out like a sore thumb, doesn’t he? Ah, there! He’s already looking up here, too. He’s so into you, babe.” 

“He is…?” 

“Oh yeah. And I can see why.” One of his large hands came to rest against your lower back, stepping in a bit closer to you. “You’re so cute and timid. Obedient.” His hand began to travel down along the curve of your ass, the slight sting of your welts from earlier making you tense and nibble at your lower lip. “Sexy. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.” 

“Katsuki might… get upset if you do anything when he’s not here.” You clutched at the bottom of your dress, trying to keep it down in the front while Kirishima slowly pulled it up from the back. 

“Oh you’re right, he might. Then you’d better not do anything to let him notice, hm? He’s watching us, after all.” His hand began to stroke along your ass, groping and squeezing with a firm grip. “Damn, you have a nice ass.” 

A small squeak escaped your lips as two if his fingers slipped between your cheeks, rubbing your sex on the outside of your underwear. “Kiri… I’m… I don’t want to without Katsuki here.” 

“You sure about that? ‘Cause your wet pussy is telling me otherwise.” With aggressive movements that made you involuntarily take a step closer to the glass, Kirishima moved his hand into your underwear. Without skipping a beat, his middle and ring fingers slid into your wet cunt with ease, forcing a sweet gasp from your lips. “Oh fuck, you’re tight. It’s no wonder Bakugou’s already obsessed after only fucking you once.�� 

He began to move his fingers in and out of you, slowly dragging along your inner walls, being sure to keep them curved at just the right angle. Each time he dug them into you, he pressed right into your most sensitive areas, making your entire body tingle and soft moans escape your lips. Though, just as you were about to lean forward and stick your ass out for him, he gave a small hiss in warning. 

“Don’t move, sweetheart. You want him to notice?” He quickened his pace, as if he were trying to get you to give yourself away. Resting his body against the glass using one arm to prop himself up, he appeared completely casual. Since he was turned slightly towards you, he could use this angle for better leverage, digging his fingers into you faster and deeper. “But it’s not just him. Everyone down there can see us.” 

From down below, you were sure that there wasn’t anything suspicious about the two of you, and keeping that facade was completely up to you. Even so, how sensitive your body felt, and the pleasure was already beginning to make your legs weak, so you had to press your hand against the glass to support yourself. Your panting breaths fogged up the clear surface now that you were so close to it, even able to feel your hard nipples rub against the cold. It was so much stimulation so fast that you weren’t sure how long you were going to be able to hold out. 

Whining as you bit down on your bottom lip, you clenched your eyes shut tightly, digging your nails against the glass. “Kiri… please… He’ll notice!” 

“I wonder what he’ll do, then.” He began to alternate between fingering you and rubbing your clit, nearly crippling what little hold you had left on yourself. “He’d punish you, for sure, but I wonder how? Maybe he’ll spank that pretty ass until you’re crying. Or edge you over and over. Or not give you anything at all.” 

“I… please--” A moan cut you off as you began to feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, placing both of your hands against the glass, now. “Please, I can’t hold it!” 

“Going to cum already? Let’s change it up a bit, then.” 

For a split second, you thought that he was going to completely stop as he removed his fingers from your aching and trembling cunt. Instead, you were met with a jolt of shock through your core as both of his fingers moved to your asshole, beginning to press into you without any warning. You couldn’t stop your hips from arching back towards his hand, your upper body and forehead firmly against the glass. “K-Kiri-!” 

“Ooh, looks like someone like their ass filled up, hm? What a shame Bakugou didn’t play with you here, that little squeak you just made was adorable.” His fingers slid into you up to his knuckles, bending and flexing them apart to make you moan and wiggle. “That’s it, sweetheart. You like your ass fucked?” 

“Y-yes,” you forced your eyes open, looking back down at Bakugou through the dark and flashing neon lights. He was still watching you, but there was something else. With the cover of the dark and his hips turned towards the counter, you could see him palming himself between his legs. Could he tell what was happening? Was he really getting off on it? “Kiri… I think he can tell- ah! Fuck!” Your voice cracked as he began to move his fingers within you, moving at an even quicker and more aggressive pace than he had been before. 

“He can? Well fuck, sweetheart, that means so can all the other people down there.” Kirishima moved in closer, pressing his lips against your flushed cheek, his smirk wide and eyes gleaming with enjoyment. “Can you feel their eyes on you? Watching you get off on me fingering your ass like the good little slut you are. You like being watched, don’t you?”

“I… I don’t want them all to see me! But Katsuki is… he’s watching…” 

“That’s right. He’s watching while I get to play with you. He’s so jealous he can’t help but watch, just waiting for his chance. You like that, don’t you?” 

“Yes… Yes, I like him watching me.” Your body began to rock with his movements, the pleasure building back up rapidly. “Just to know that Katsuki wants me so bad… It makes me so hot!” You couldn’t stop your voice as your hips arched further back, trembling legs spreading a bit. “Please! Please let me cum, Kiri! I want to cum while he watches me!” 

“Yeah, babe, cum all over my fingers. That’s it.” The encouraging grumble of his voice in your ear and the increased speed of his fingers within you immediately made you lose it, gasping and moaning against the glass as you struggled to stay up on your feet. The waves of pleasure that crashed over you were so intense, much more than you had ever felt just from a little assplay, but you didn’t care to try to rationalize why. 

“What a good girl.” Kirishima pressed his lips against your cheek in a playful kiss, removing his fingers and giving your backend a few light smacks. “How about we sit down for a while, hm? You need to relax a bit before Bakugou gets back up here.” 

Pushing yourself up off the glass, you didn’t think about looking for Bakugou again before you followed him over towards the couches on weak legs. You could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing through your body, the slickness that you had wiped away in the bathroom once again coating your thighs and further soaking your underwear. His large, rough fingers had felt so good inside you, and although he had allowed you to cum, you were feeling severely unsatisfied and just all around… needy? Was that the right word to use? You wanted them to touch you, to hold and to praise you. But for now, it seemed as if Kirishima was perfectly content to wait a while, leaving you standing by the couches as he flopped to sit, resting back against the armrest with his legs up casually on the cushions. 

Nearly immediately, your dizzy gaze landed on the very obvious form of his cock beneath his joggers, reminding you immediately of what he had done to you on the dancefloor. Now that you could see it, your stomach fluttered with curiosity and interest, making you crave to have his cock in your hands. Walking over casually, you ignored his curious look as you took a moment to take off your shoes, before settling onto the couch between his legs. For the first time, you saw his cheeks flush, obviously having not expected you to suddenly be so handsy as you palmed along the hard length of his cock. 

“What’s up, sweetheart? Can’t wait?” 

“You’re… bigger than Katsuki?” 

Your question was met with a chuckle, Kirishima’s grin breaking his face as he allowed you to touch him. “Don’t let him hear you admit that. Not by much, but yeah, sure. Take a look.” 

With his permission, you pulled his pants down just enough to allow his cock to spring free, a shocked squeak nearly escaping your throat at the sight of him. It was true, he wasn’t any longer than Bakugou, but his girth was much more impressive. His flushed tip was pierced just as Bakugou’s had been, but he sported a bar through the underside of the blushing head that you recognized as a prince albert. For a moment, you wondered if all the band members had their dicks pierced, but that thought was quickly pushed to the back of your mind as his cock gave an impatient twitch. 

Without much consideration of the consequences, you took it into your hands, beginning to lightly pump and spread his precum around the tip and down his shaft. Kirishima gave a relieved sigh at your touch, resting one arm behind his head so he could relax and watch you. “Ah fuck… that’s it, nice and slow. Why don’t you spit on it a little, huh?” 

Leaning forward, you passionately rolled your tongue around his tip, before pulling back a bit and allowing your saliva to flow freely, using your hand to spread it down his length. The groan he gave made a smile creep across your lips as you sat back up from him, using both of your hands to stroke his cock with a firmer grip. “How’s that?” 

“Incredible. Fuck, babe… Let me see those pretty tits, huh?” 

Since your dress had low cut sleeves to begin with, it was easy for you to slip your arms out of them, before pulling the fabric down to expose your breasts to him. Not wearing a bra, they slipped easily from the tight dress, revealing your hard nipples and cute jeweled piercings. Leaning forward a bit closer to him, you continued to stroke his cock with the soft plushness of your chest around him, watching his face closely for any sign of approval. His usually smug or cheerful expression was hazed over with lust, crimson eyes watching your every move. He looked so cute and innocent, just like the man you had always seen on social media, and you loved that you had reduced him back to being his softer self just with a touch and a flash of your tits. 

Scooting your hips back a bit and propping yourself up on your knees, you leaned in and took him fully into your mouth, starting with just a sweet tease to his tip before taking him all the way down to the base. Kirishima immediately groaned and tensed beneath you, his large hand coming down to rest on the back of your head, gathering up your hair to keep it out of the way for you. “Oh fuck, damn it! Look at you, taking my cock so well. Such a good girl-” 

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening startled you both and you nearly gagged from the sudden pressure Kirishima put on the back of your head. Unable to move and unable to see, all you could do was listen to the booming voice from behind you while you tried to find some room to breathe with the cock down your throat. 

“You horny fuckers couldn’t even wait until I got back?” Bakugou’s voice was followed by the sound of the door slamming shut, along with the click of the lock. “I spend all that fucking time down there getting drinks for us and you decide to fool around without me?!” 

“Hey man, I didn’t start this! She wanted to suck my dick herself. Oh shit, sorry, sweetheart!” Kirishima released your head as you whined and wiggled to try and get yourself free, allowing you to come up. Coughing, you glowered up at Kirishima as you placed a hand over your throat, spitting the excess saliva that had gathered in your mouth onto his cock in retaliation. 

“Oh did she?” Bakugou came up behind you, putting the drinks down on the table before taking a hold of your hair and pulling you back so you were looking up at him. “And what about that little show you put on against the windows? Whose idea was that?” 

Your face flushed, stomach bubbling nervously as your fears that he could tell were confirmed. And yet, you only grew hotter, biting down onto your bottom lip as you peered up at him though your lashes. For a moment, you considered lying and saying that you had started it all, just to see what he would do, but the ever honest Kirishima spoke up first. 

“I couldn’t help it, man. She has a nice ass. But I didn’t tell her to act all obvious, she just couldn’t control herself.” 

“That’s because she’s nothing but a slut.” Still using his grip on your hair, Bakugou forced you back down so that your lips were pressed against the wet tip of Kirishima’s cock, not giving you any other choice but to open your mouth and take him in. Again, your head was forced all the way down to his pelvis, your nose pressing against his skin. As you whined, your eyes began to tear up from the pressure and uncomfortable presence deep in your throat, digging your nails into Kirishima’s hips to try and stop him from shifting beneath you. 

Struggling to breathe through your nose, you could feel your dress being pushed up around your hips, Bakugou’s free hand gripping your ass and spreading you open with no regard for the stinging welts he had left earlier that night. “Fuck, what the hell are these? Did you expect to get fucked tonight, baby?” His rough fingers stroked along your lace panties, before pulling them down away from your hips and to your thighs. “Look how fucking wet you are, too. Did that moron make you cum?” 

When he released your head, you pulled up slowly, gazing up at Kirishima to watch his flushed face and listen to his groans. Once your lips left him, you didn’t bother to spit or clean up the thick saliva and precum that dribbled from your tongue, using it to instead stroke him firmly with both hands. “Yes, Katsuki,” You choked out through your sore throat, arching your hips further up as Bakugou gripped your ass with both hands, spreading you open to watch your twitching cunt. “He made me cum while you watched. While the whole club could see.” 

“Did you like that I was watching?” Bakugou ran his thumb in slow circles against your clit. “Did that get you off, you nasty fuck?” 

“Mm, yes-” Your pace quickened, almost hypnotized by the way Kirishima reacted to your touch as Bakugou teased you. “I loved it.” 

“And how did he make you cum, huh?” The sound of a zipper and shifting clothing was lost behind his voice and the pounding in your ears. As your lips pressed against the tip of Kirishima’s cock to prepare to take him again, a moan interrupted you, your hips arching back up into Bakugou’s touch as two of his fingers slipped into your wet pussy. “Did he finger your slutty cunt?” 

“Yes,” Spurred on by the pleasure, you ran your tongue up and down along Kirishima’s throbbing shaft, your free hand pushing his joggers further down out of the way so you could cup and massage his balls. Kirishima gave a grunt, reaching down to dig his fingers into your hair again. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, tell him the truth.” 

“The truth? Tch, I bet I know what he did.” Removing his fingers from within you, they both slid up to your asshole, sinking in with ease and making your entire body shudder with a moan. “Your ass, huh? I should have fucking known. Fine, then.” Shifting his hips closer, you could feel the presence of his cock between your cheeks when he removed his hand, gripping your hips instead. “Let me fill up this slutty little hole for you.” 

Before you could truly ground yourself, the tip of his thick cock slipped into your asshole with just as much ease as his fingers, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. Biting down onto your bottom lip as he sunk in inch by inch, you buried your face into Kirishima’s pelvis, your entire body trembling. Just as before, his size was more than you had ever taken before in either hole, and he left you feeling full and breathless. 

“K-Katsuki--!” 

“That’s right, babygirl. Moan my fucking name.” With a rough snap of his hips to start his quick pace, you cried out against Kirishima’s skin, your hand leaving his cock to instead dig your nails into his toned stomach. “How’s my fat cock feel, huh? Stretching your tight asshole-- ah fuck, baby!” As you constricted around him in response to the pleasure and his filthy mouth, he only fucked you faster and harder, his balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of hot white pleasure through your body. 

For a while, you were completely engrossed in the feeling of his cock inside you, until a smack of Kirishima’s cock to your cheek reminded you that he was still here, too. Although it was nearly impossible for you to hold back your voice, you sat up and took his cock into your mouth again, using the pleasure to push yourself harder to please him more aggressively. 

“Ah shit! Damn!” Kirishima once again gripped onto your head, but with both hands this time. “Wait, wait! Hold still-” Using his grip on your head, he shifted his legs a bit, using new leverage to begin thrusting his hips up to fuck your mouth at his own pace. Completely at their mercy, you supported yourself with your arms against the couch, your eyes once again tearing up from the rough throat fucking and pleasure abusing your mind. The moans and filthy, lewd wet noises that came from your mouth were uncontrollable, as was the saliva and tears that coated Kirishima’s cock. 

It was painful.

It was hot. 

It was an absolute dream. 

And yet, you wanted more. You wanted these men to completely destroy you, to leave you as nothing but a twitching mess leaking their cum. 

“Want to swallow my cum, sweetheart?” 

With Kirishima’s question, you found the chance to try and get your way, giving a miniscule shake of your head as you reached up to try and push his hands off you. Bakugou scoffed, not letting up on his pace. 

“The fuck? Just cum, don’t ask her-” 

“Shut up, man, she’s trying to say something,” Allowing you up off his cock, you took a moment to cough, which was difficult behind your urge to moan and gasp in air. 

“I want both of your cocks inside me!” You finally choked out when you had a chance, gazing up at Kirishima with your flushed, teary and begging expression. “Please fill me up with both of your cocks! I need them!” A squeak escaped your lips as Bakugou grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up against his chest as his hand wrapped around your neck. 

“Beg harder,” He growled in your ear, one hand gripping your breast as he fucked you harder. For a moment, your mind went blank with the pleasure, unsure of what you had even wanted outside of Bakugou’s dick buried so deep inside of you. The pleasure in your core was near cracking, and as you looked down at Kirishima to see him pumping his own cock at the sight of you being ruined, it only spiked higher. 

“I want you to both fuck me! Please! Please, Katsuki, I’m begging you! I-- aah, fuck! Fuck!” Leaning your head back, it wasn’t another second before you came hard, your body tensing in his grip and rocking back against his hips as they also came to a stop from how hard you squeezed around him. Giving a low growl in satisfaction, Bakugou held your body tightly back against him, digging his cock as deep into you as he could get with a light bucking of his hips. 

“Oh fuck, babygirl, that’s it. Such a naughty bitch, cumming from being fucked in the ass like that. And you still want more, huh?” Bakugou spoke low in your ear, and although you were beyond high on the release, you found it within yourself to nod. 

Smirking against your cheek, Bakugou removed his cock from you. “Fine then.” While you were still trying to regain control of your dizzy mind, he gave you a rough nudge, forcing your weak and trembling body to fall forward onto Kirishima. The redhead caught you by the arms to help you steady yourself, giving an annoyed huff as he guided you up to straddle his hips. 

“Watch it, man! She could have crushed my dick, then I’d be outta luck!” 

“Shut the fuck up. I’m sick of waiting, if you don’t get a move on, I’m kicking your fucking ass out of here.” 

“Boys, boys.” You pushed yourself up on your arms so you were balanced on all fours, smiling down at Kirishima through your lustful haze. “There’s no need to argue.” Reaching down between your bodies, you took hold of Kirishima’s cock, holding it steady as you ran your dripping wet sex along it, teasing your sensitive clit. “I’m here for you both to use me. As much as you want.” Looking back over your shoulder, you caught Bakugou’s glare, though it quickly flicked back down to your hips as you began to lower yourself down onto Kirishima’s cock, letting him slip into your pussy slowly. “You like watching, Katsuki?” 

Bakugou scoffed, his face flushing. “You’d better fucking watch it, whore. Don’t forget who owns your stupid ass.” 

“But I love it when you watch me,” You let out an airy moan as Kirishima filled you up all the way to the base, not leaving a single inch of you untouched. “Just to know that I turn you on so much without even having to touch you. Even if it’s another man… Even if it’s Kiri’s fat cock inside me. It makes me so happy, Katsuki.” Steading yourself with your hands against Kirishima’s stomach, you began to roll your hips, sighing and cursing softly from the pleasure. “Fuck, so big! Both of your cocks are so big and perfect!” 

As Kirishima gripped onto your hips tightly, he was immediately taken over by the euphoria he felt being buried so deep within your wet pussy, using his strength to guide your body to start bouncing on his cock instead. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck, your pussy is so tight!” It wasn’t another few seconds before he couldn’t resist thrusting his hips up into you, holding you steady as he ravaged your wet and clenching cunt at his own pace. He was hard and rough, slamming into you like a man starved, desperate for the pleasure and release he craved. “You’re such a perfect little slut.” 

Now forced to lean forward, weak arms propping you up on either side of his body, you allowed him to fuck you as he wished, each slam of his tip against your cervix blurring your vision with white sparks of pleasure. The way his thick cock filled you up and his piercing rubbed against your inner walls was building up your pleasure so rapidly that your body became completely weak, arms collapsing under you until you were laying on his chest. Somehow, you found the mental focus to look over your shoulder, your body flushing hotter at the sight of Bakugou eagerly pumping his own cock, his glare locked on the way that Kirishima was using you. 

“Ka- Katsuki,” You choked out through your moans, doing everything you could to keep hold of your mind for just a moment longer. “Please watch me while I cum! Please! A-ah! Kiri, w-wait, I--!” As the redhead grew rougher with you, there wasn’t anything you could do to hold back the pleasure any longer, and your orgasm ripped through your body like a spark of lightning, making your entire body tense and tremble. “Fuck! Fucking hell, that fat cock is so fucking good!” 

“Damn right it is, sweetheart.” Kirishima landed a hard smack to your currently unmarked asscheek. “You like being fucked by big cocks?” 

“Yes… I’ve never had cocks like this though…” You turned your face more into the skin of his chest, ignoring the sweat and drool. “Both of you… So perfect…” 

“We aren’t even done with you yet, sweetheart.” Taking hold of your ass in both hands, Kirishima spread you open, addressing the blond that still sat behind you, who was oddly quiet and patient. “C’mon, man. Let’s give her what she really wants.” 

For a moment, you felt embarrassed at the fact that Kirishima was holding your cheeks apart, your pussy still stuffed with his cock and your asshole twitching in anticipation. Looking over your shoulder again, you caught Bakugou’s gaze, the pleading expression in your eyes instantly bringing a wicked and excited smirk to his lips. That initial embarrassment spiked, holding your breath as Bakugou came in closer, taking over the task of holding your ass open. 

The tip of his cock, hot and blushing with the need for his own release, teased your tight, unoccupied hole, the feeling of his frenum piercing rolling across your skin bringing a whimper from your throat. You wanted it so much that it was nearly painful to have to wait like this. You felt powerless in the situation, only able to wait for them to decide to begin, and the anticipation was making your stomach flutter and roll. The butterflies escaped your lips with the sound of a small plea, barely audible even by you, but Bakugou was quick to take notice. 

“What’s that, babygirl?” 

“P-please…” You pushed the word out with your strangled breath, still watching him from over your shoulder. “Please don’t make me keep waiting!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as his thumb rolled over the waiting hole, teasingly dipping it in to the first knuckle. “Mm... Katsuki--” A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he landed a rough spank to your already bruised and abused cheek from earlier that night in the dressing room, the spike of pain making your body tense. Kirishima groaned and wiggled beneath you, his hips bucking lightly impatiently as your core squeezed tightly around him in reaction to the pain. 

“Aah fuck! Shit, sweetheart, don’t squeeze so tight like that, it’s hard enough not to fuck your brains out right now.” 

“What’s the matter? She’s too tight for ya?” Bakugou landed another hard, full palmed smack to your ass, forcing a sharp moan from your lips and your tensing body bringing Kirishima into another series of squirming. “I’m surprised you’re still in this, you’re usually a two-pump chump!” Then, the instant your body calmed, he shoved his entire length into you in one fell swoop, his hips meeting with the red plushness of your ass. “Fuck… How can she be such a perfect little slut?” 

The sudden feeling of being so full knocked all the air out of your lungs, your back arching to try to accommodate them both, digging your nails into the fabric of the couch. Your mind was so overwhelmed with the pressure that you could barely hear Kirishima snapping back at Bakugou for the insult he had given him, only hearing the sound of his voice without comprehending words. They were both buried so deep inside you that you worried you might split apart if they started moving, and with that realization, another came to the front of your dizzy mind. 

You’ve never had two dicks inside you at the same time. 

Never. 

With how excited and desperate you had been for it, the men must have assumed that you had and weren’t going to go easy on you. You wanted to speak, to say anything to tell them the truth, but you found it nearly impossible to pull enough air into your lungs to speak. They were about to absolutely ruin you, and you wondered in that moment if you’d be able to take it, or if you’d beg for mercy with the first thrust. 

It was Kirishima who moved first, thrusting his hips upwards slow and shallow, forcing a cry from your throat and your eyes to clench shut, hiding in his chest. “Shh, sweetheart, we got you.” Since Bakugou was holding onto your hips, Kirishima’s hands were free to caress you, one on your side and the other on the back of your head. With his tender touch, however, came longer strokes of his cock inside you, the overwhelming presence pushing tears from behind your closed eyelids. “Just breathe.” 

Bakugou, however, was not as merciful. He picked up on Kirishima’s rhythm, pulling himself all the way out to the tip before plunging back into your tense and constricting asshole. Bakugou hissed, digging his fingers into your plush hips, his blunt nails stinging your skin. “Fucking hell, babygirl, you’re just sucking me right in. Damn-!” A groan escaped him as he picked up his pace, your body starting to rock between them as the skin of his pelvis slapped against your red and abused cheeks. 

“A-ah, Katsuki-!” You nearly screamed out in shock, though your face was still buried into Kirishima’s chest. “Not so fast! Please!” 

“Oh no, babe. You begged for this. We’re giving you exactly what you asked for.” 

As if picking up on a cue, Kirishima also increased his pace, until they were both thrusting into you as deep as they could possibly get, hard and fast. Though, with their increased pace came a new feeling washing over you, pushing past the dull, uncomfortable pain. They were filling up every inch of you, caressing you and staying as perfectly in sync as they could, doing everything they could to pleasure you. And that was all you could feel. 

The pleasure. 

It pulsed through every inch of you like shockwaves, sending it rocketing up your body and down your limbs. There was no other word that you could think of to describe it besides “perfect”, and you knew that there would never be another set of men in your entire life that could make you feel this way. That could use you like this, making you feel so vulnerable yet adored at the same time. No matter the reason, these two men who you loved dearly, wanted you. 

And damn, you were happy. 

“Fuck, yes-!” You finally choked out, finding a smidgen of strength to allow you to prop yourself up on your elbows. Still, your head hung slack, your tear-filled eyes rolled up and mouth open with unending moans. “Your cocks feel so good inside me!” 

“There she is,” Deep groan reverberating in his chest from your encouragement, Bakugou increased his place, giving you another firm slap on the ass. “That’s right, you slut. Now tell me who you belong to.” 

“You! You, Katsuki-!” 

“-And?”

“-Kiri! I belong to both of you! I’m your little slut, please do whatever you want with me! Just please don’t stop, I want to feel your cum inside me!” 

If you were honest, you weren’t sure how long they ravaged you like this. You came again, before your body was just too overly stimulated, and all you could do was lay there against Kirishima’s chest, moaning and trembling constantly. There wasn’t a rational or clear thought in your head, only able to focus on their dicks inside you, and their increasingly loud moans and grunts. 

They were getting close. 

“Fucking shit-” Bakugou was barely able to get the curse out before his hips began to shutter, his thrusts becoming erratic and shallow until he released inside of you, the hot feeling of his cum pulling you back into full consciousness. You peeked at him over your shoulder the best you could through your wild hair, finding his flushed, sweaty, and satisfied image endearing. You felt so empty with his exit, but you didn’t have much time to focus on that, as Kirishima immediately scooped you up and flipped you both over so you were beneath him. 

Smirk on his lips, he bent your legs back up to your chest, his pace and depth only increasing and sending you into another round of incoherent moans. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. I want to see that pretty face when I fill you up with my cum.” 

Clutching onto his arms tightly, your nails dug into his biceps as your eyes stayed locked on the way his hips moved, almost hypnotized by the sight of his cock slamming in and out of your abused cunt. The veiny girth that was absolutely coated in your slick found no resistance, and with this new visual paired with the feeling of rapid dragging along your clenching walls, you could feel another orgasm peaking fast. “K-Kiri-!” 

“Going to cum on my fat cock again, huh? Go on- Ah, oh fuck-!” A hiss escaped through his teeth as you came, your entire body quivering, cunt clenching around him and head leaning back. Your moans hitched and shook uncontrollably, unsure of exactly how loud you were as your mind fogged over with the endless waves of pleasure paired with the new heat that flooded your core with Kirishima’s release. The redhead that pinned you down was rough with his release, his hips rutting against yours with sharp snaps and deep grinding, which only prolonged your release until you were nothing but a limp, trembling mess. 

“Look at you. You’re so damn pretty.” Kirishima’s voice barely registered in your mind, as did the clicking sound of a phone taking pictures. “Bakugou, come hold her legs back.” 

Your teary gaze landed on Bakugou as he came to stand near your head, taking your calves into his hands and pulling them back so you were further contorted. With the movement, Kirishima removed his cock from within you, leaving you feeling incredibly empty, though the heat of his cum leaking out of you was very noticeable. With a whine as your knees were pressed on either side of your head, you weakly gripped onto Bakugou’s hands, looking up at him with exhausted, innocent curiosity. Fluffy blonde hair stuck to his face that was coated with sweat, Bakugou smirked down at you, glancing over every inch of your body. 

“Fuck babygirl, you should see yourself. You’re a mess.” 

You swallowed hard against your dry and aching throat, smiling softly as your hand traveled up and down his forearm tenderly. “All… all for you.” The sound of the phone's camera going off finally got your attention and you looked at Kirishima instead, your stomach fluttering nervously at the sight of him snapping pictures of your body. “P-pictures…?” 

“I’ve never seen a pussy this pretty, sweetheart. And it’s just dripping with my jizz… Your ass is, too, with your cheeks all fucking red from Bakugou spanking you. You’re a damn masterpiece, baby. I should have recorded this whole thing.” Obviously filming now, Kirishima ran his thumb from your asshole up along your cunt and to your clit, dragging the mess of cum with him. After a few teasing rolls of your clit, he brought his thumb up to your mouth, not even having to say a word before you opened wide to suck the digit clean. “Damn that’s hot.” 

“Save that recording shit for later. There will be plenty to shoot back at the hotel. Right, babygirl?” Bakugou released your legs, allowing you to close them and rest them comfortably to the side. Once your mouth was free of Kirishima’s fingers, you licked your lips, eyes locked on your celebrity crush as he gazed down at you expectantly. 

Any rational thought that should have peaked in your mind was smothered by a screaming need to stay with him, to do whatever he wanted just so that you could be in his presence for as long as possible. Before you knew it, you were up on trembling knees, turning to face him and timidly clutching on tightly to the front of his shirt. “Yes, Katsuki. Anything you want.” 

“That’s right,” Bakugou pulled you in closer, latching his arms around your torso and kissing you with a gentle passion that sent your heart racing. “You’ll do anything for me.” 

“And for me.” Kirishima came up to press himself against your back, his hands tightly on your hips as he kissed your cheek playfully. You couldn’t resist a soft giggle from escaping your lips, both of your arms wrapping around Bakugou’s torso tightly. 

“Mm, yes! Anything for both of you-” 

KNOCK KNOCK

“Hey, are you three done in there yet!? Hurry up! We have girls and more drinks, and I have to piss!” 

“The couches better still be clean!” 

Kirishima chuckled, releasing you with a final pat to your backside before hopping up and fixing his clothes back into proper place. “Shit, sorry, just a sec!” 

Bakugou, however, didn’t bother responding to them, kissing you again tenderly while pulling your dress back down to cover your hips. “I hope you’re ready, babygirl.” 

“For what?” 

“The afterparty is just getting started. I hope that partying with your favorite band will be everything you ever dreamed of.” 

“As long as I get to be close to you, Katsuki, I’ll do anything. Anything at all.” 

“That’s my good girl.”

[navybrat817]

Hit and Run

Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Word Count: 750

Summary: Bucky is good at one thing and prays he won’t lose you over it.

For @finleyjayne​‘s challenge based on the moodboard below! Sorry this is late and probably lame.

Bucky didn’t have many good things in his life, but he somehow managed to find you. He did his best to tell you how thankful he was each day for you. He should’ve known it would go straight to Hell.

“I can explain,” he said when you saw the gun in his hand. Jesus, if that didn’t sound cliché and awful to his own ears. Why were you even there? He always covered his tracks. But you were an enigma. A surprise. It drew him into you almost immediately.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he tried again. Another cliché. He was smooth when he was Sergeant Barnes, back before everything changed. What the hell was he supposed to say? That your eyes were playing tricks on you and you didn’t just see him assassinate someone on the street below?

You opened your mouth, but whatever you tried to say didn’t come out. Your eyes spoke volumes: shock, confusion...betrayal. He never wanted to see that look on your face again. “Doll…” he whispered. If you had been anyone else, he could have kept up the façade. Lying to you made him feel sick each time He knew you’d find out the truth one day...about what he did. He just didn’t think it would be like this. 

You bolted, your boots smacking against the rooftop. For a moment, he stood dumbfounded. He never imagined you’d run. Of all the scenarios that played in his head, that never crossed his mind. Perhaps it should have.

Every cell in his body told him to chase after you, but he didn’t move a muscle. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. He thought about the advice Steve gave him when he felt overwhelmed. He inhaled through his nose and slowly exhaled through his mouth. It didn’t stop the voices in his head, taunting him that you stuck around longer than he deserved. He got too dependent on you. That was dangerous to do in his line of work. As he opened his eyes, his focus went to the gun in his hand. He glared at it, as if the weapon had a choice in the matter. No...this was his fault. This was what he was good at now...Killing. Maybe it was better that you knew the real him. Maybe this was his personal Hell, knowing he’d have to let you go. The one who didn’t deserve a chance at happiness. The one who, no matter what, just didn’t deserve love. 

“Fuck that,” he whispered before he finally took a step forward, leaving the gun. He’d go back for it later. He fought through wars. He came back after the snap. He had his mind broken, erased and tortured. He had been the ultimate weapon. If he survived that, he could get through this hurdle with you. He wasn’t letting you go without a fight.

It didn’t take him long to catch up. You were fast, but he was faster. His heart ached as he thought about how terrified you had to be. If another man put that fear in you, he would break him until he begged for death. He pushed that thought away. Right now, your fear was because of him. “Doll, wait!” he called as he caught your arm, careful not to harm you as he spun you around. You steadied your breathing as he pulled you close. He was afraid if he let you go, you’d run again. His gaze swept over your face, taking in the sight and committing it to memory. He wanted to remember just how beautiful you were if you never let him see you again. “I love you...so much. Please...I’ll tell you everything. Just...please, don’t leave me,” he begged as he looked into your eyes. “I love you, too,” you whispered, your eyes locked with his as you touched the device in your ear. “I got him out.” “...What?” Bucky asked. What the hell was going on?

“I know who you are...Soldat,” you said sadly. “And, unfortunately, we don’t have time to just stand here. Brock is probably on his way and I’m not going to let him hurt you again.”

“You know about Rumlow, too?” he asked, practically growling the name in disgust. “We can talk about it at the safehouse...We’ll talk about everything.” Bucky was right that you were an enigma. And he prayed that the love you had for him was real.

[spookyboywhump]

Number 3 for Assorted Angst Prompts?

Hehehehe I managed to finish this during my breaks

3. “I want to hear you scream.”

From This Prompt List

CW: Pet whump, dehumanization, electrocution, nonsexual nudity

***

“Normally I wouldn’t do this.” Nicholas said, unlocking the muzzle that he’s forced Zander to wear the entire day. He didn’t complain right away, instead taking deep breaths and trying to appreciate the relief he felt in his jaw after having the bit shoved between his teeth all day. There were marks on it from how hard he’d been biting down. “In fact, I’d really rather not give you the chance to run your mouth, I know you can’t keep quiet and you’re awfully annoying whenever you get the chance to speak.” He said, stepping away to grab something.

“Damn, then why don’t you just gag me again…?” He muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He was sat on his knees in Nicholas’ basement, his wrists had been cuffed together and his arms were outstretched above his head, the cuffs locked to a chain hanging from the ceiling, just short enough that Zander was forced to sit up straight to avoid discomfort. He wished his arms were free, he’d been forced to strip down to his underwear and it was absolutely freezing down there.

“Because,” Nicholas said matter of factly, and Zander felt something jab against the small of his back, “I want to hear you scream.”

He didn’t have time to prepare himself for the shock, a quick but painful zap of electricity. Nicholas quickly got what he was hoping for, his back arched away from the tool as he screamed, his eyes screwed shut. It didn’t last long but that didn’t change how much it hurt, leaving him struggling to catch his breath. Ever since Cain had stopped using a shock collar on him he’d been even more sensitive to electric shocks, he was never prepared for them and they always hurt way more than he remembered.

“Fuck! You- you can’t-!”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, mutt.” Nicholas snapped, this time it was jabbed into his side and the shock lasted longer, leaving him shrieking in pain. His hands were clenched into fists, so tight his nails were close to drawing blood, his whole body now taught with fear and anticipation. “Darling said I couldn’t use a shock collar. He said nothing about this.” He finally stepped into Zander’s line of sight and he got a look at what he was using on him, squinting for a moment before he got it.

“Is that a fucking cattle prod?!”

“It is. I’ve heard this one is a bit… stronger, than what somebody would use on livestock. I wouldn’t know though, how about you tell me?” He said, this time jabbing the end into his ribs. Zander wasn’t ready when he hit the button, his jaw snapped shut as his muscles seized up, he couldn’t even scream properly until Nicholas had pulled it away, trying to channel it into shouting obscenities instead.

“Fuck! Fuck you- fuck that thing, get the fuck away from me!” He yelled, desperately trying to yank his hands free of the cuffs, but getting absolutely nowhere. On instinct he started to try to stand up, try to figure a way out of this himself, but he was just jabbed and shocked again, falling right back to his knees. It was getting harder to hold back any tears, he hated crying in front of Nicholas, but he was in so much pain and he had no idea how long this would last- or more importantly, how long he could last.

“If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll stop.” Nicholas said, sounding amused as he jabbed the device into his inner thigh, dragging another scream out of him. He kept his eyes shut, tears had begun to stream down his face but he focused on catching his breath and keeping it even enough to speak.

“P-please…” He finally said, sounding as though it took all his strength to say the one word. “Please s-stop… I can’t do this, please, sir...” It killed him to admit defeat, but he knew if he didn’t then the torture itself might literally kill him. It was rare for his self preservation instincts to kick in at a time like this, but he was so genuinely terrified of being electrocuted he couldn’t help but break down and beg. Cain wasn’t there to stop him from going too far, this was his only choice.

“Aww, so you do know your manners.” Nicholas laughed, and Zander’s eyes went wide as it was pressed to his side, his protests cut off as he shrieked in agony. The shock didn’t last long thankfully, he was beginning to panic, his breathing frantic, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Everything hurt, everything felt like static, he just wanted a break.

“B-but-! Y-you said if I-I… you s-said you’d st-stop…” He could barely get the sentence out, his eyes wide with fear as he stared up at him, but his heart sank as Nicholas just smiled at him.

“You should learn to listen better, mutt,” He said with a cruel grin, “I said maybe.”

[0aurelion-sol0]

Yo~

What's your opinion on the Will Byers DID theory? If you like it, which version do you like better? Both interpretations seem cool to me, though I personally like strangertheory's version better ^.^

Hi!

That's a very interesting question. I want to start by saying that I am a singlet, so I don't have DiD or OSDD. My knowledge of this condition is primarly known through medias I consume or some more "advanced" psychiatric documents or researches.

DiD is a condition that hasn't been always best represented or accurately represented since this condition varies from people who have it and so while there are similarities, the experience of it is very much unique and personal. It is also something that in a fictional setting with different genres, themes and tones is very hard to pull off or represent unless you go for the very realistic take on it.

It is bound to be, like many other things in fiction, dramatized. And speaking from a singlet perspective, who also had particular problems represented in fiction, I think it's okay as long as it's done right, in the setting, tone and genre it is in.

For example, we have today a lot more LGBTQ+ representation and like everything, unless you go for the fully realistic route, it's going to be simplified and dramatized. There's so many gender identities and sexual orientations today, you have to simplify it. And that goes for many other things that people care about in media, it has to be done right, but the writers still have a story to tell and unless that subject is the focus of the story, they're not gonna always spend their time talking about that. There is a story to tell.

Secondly, if it is the main focus of the story, that is where people have to do their research and really represent what they are talking about. Not some half-baked representation with dull arguments and points that come from a capitalist and conservative worldview. (Looking at you Disney.)

Now what you are referencing are @strangertheory 's and @kaypeace21 's theories which are about the show being about a DiD system where we see different alters evolving in said story with the host being Will Byers.

There is a lot of evidence pointing towards it, I'm gonna let you go see their posts and read it.

But their theories are very different in the way that they see the show portraying DiD, I have actually find quite a great way to describe the two takes.

@kaypeace21 's take is that elements of the DiD system have been externalised through science-"fictional" or supernatural means. Similar to Legion from the Marvel universe.

(David is a powerful mutant with DiD where each alters, if I remember correctly, has a different power or powers. (Which to this day is still one of the most BADASS thing I have ever come across though it must be quite terrifying for David.))

@strangertheory is an internalised POV on the DiD system existing in the show. She believes that what we are seeing right now is what is exclusively happening INSIDE the DiD system and that what we are experiencing is not our standard definition of the "real world". As in the physical world we all know. This would be in very vulgar terms happening inside Will's self, head, mind or brain. In a sense, it would be a more accurate representation of what DiD is about. A Shyamalan twist if you prefer.

(Though right now I don't have any word for word examples of such take, there is a show called MR.ROBOT that fits a bit of this description since there are moments in the show that we are seeing are only happening in the DiD system itself.

I recommend this show A LOT. It still is a bit dramatized but from what I know the DiD representation is quite accurate and pleased a lot of people with DiD. Also some people on the Stranger Things crew worked on that show.)

Now do I love the DiD theory ?

Heck yeah, I fucking love it! And with a big L! (Am I right "The First I love you?").

And I Love both of the takes and I think each one works at explaining the mysteries of this story. I even think that in some ways both could work well together.

I believe that DiD can be, without the meaning of being used, like many things a powerful storytelling "device" since it is connected to so many themes and other writing tools and is linked literally to the psyche, emotions and personalities of the characters.

I can understand why some people like both or one or respectfully and logically dislike both or one of the takes. But it is close to my belief about what the show is about or were even before I came into this fandom or on the internet, not as complex and thought out as the theory itself but pretty close in the overall themes and aspects of it.

(Though it bewilders me how much people lack imagination or are scared of such twist when I have seen so many of those types before whether it's done well or not, accurate or not.)

Now both @strangertheory and @kaypeace21 are intelligent people with very nuanced takes. And they had their fair share of completely unjust controversies coming from either rabbid ignorant shippers, far too sensible people or downright ignorant stupid people, most of the time 16 year olds. I am not saying that they are perfect, no one is, but the hate they have received is completely unjust.

And I am gonna lay it down right here, they are begging for an accurate representation here, they are not doing this because it just sounds cool and is edgy, they are actually wanting that The Duffers pull this off well. They would be very mad if they use all the imagery just to make it look cooler or scarier.

They are not bringer of truths, they are just like us. They are theorists, they believe in something that they think can explain the story they love and are experiencing. And so far, they have a pretty damn good track record.

They are analysing, dissecting the show because it's what they want to do and they believe in it and they believe the Duffers wants them to do that (I mean how come no one believes it when watching a show like that set in the 80's with so many references ?).

It is also supposed to be fun. Have fun for God's Sake! You can disagree with it but calling names and being disrespectful because somehow they don't agree with very basic, lazy and cliché theories (and no it's not being hypocrite, a lot of people barely do the work.) or are not on board with your creepy projection over the characters IS not okay.

And no, they aren't supporting p*d*philia as some people have claimed. How can you read these theories and come up to that conclusion ?

Most people haven't even read the DiD theory or have gone all the way through with it because they are lazy, easily bored people who don't have the time to just relax, process and think.

Stranger Things is not a kids show, some dumb teenage romance drama show with cool monsters! It's a very mature show, with real problems that are treated, out of which is trauma and mental health. Kids are killing people and even dying on this show. There is sexism, racism, abuse both physical and psychological.

It is a very mature and dark show. And you are being disrespectful to the Duffers when you say they are not that smart or that isn't that important. They are putting a lot of thoughts into this and the fact that no one really recognises this annoys me.

Or people only think it's important when it is only about the things they enjoy in the show. (Which is more hypocrite to me.) OR people are very stupid if they truly think that or are just jealous, bitter that two women have more imagination together and individualy than all of them or that person alone.

Color and costume choices, subtext, context, camera angles, directing, VFX, music, editing, sets, props, script, acting and editing are very important. All must be carefully done or you get very bad or generic stuff if you don't. If you love and you are passionate about the work, you put all the details you can into it.

And the Duffers and all the people working with them have already referenced those sort of things AND the practice of what we do on the internet. They are aware, they know because they have been in the same place too. They grew up with stories too, they made theories too whether it's on the internet or not.

At the end of the day, it is just a theory. An explanation of what is unfolding, may unfold or may have unfolded. I believe in it, I think it is reasonable, it has logic and it makes sense. It also has a lots of elements backing it up.

And the Duffers don't even have to go with DiD or mention it. Will creating some of the characters and supernatural events from his trauma is also similar and more accessible to the masses. But a Shyamalan twist can also work if it is done well.

And I am also open to other possibilities and theories, if they make sense and have enough elements IN THE SHOW and everything connected to it backing it up.

If the Duffers write something completely different but it is as good and also explains even better than this theory than I'll be okay. I love being wrong, it makes me learn new things and enhances the way I approach stories in the future.

If the Duffers only used this as some very inaccurate and disrespectful scary/abstract subtext without commiting to it. That is where I will have a problem.

Or write something completely incoherent with the rest of the show with a bad plot twist catering to the main public masses to sell the story even more and just make money so that they are safe with a fallacy of a work of fiction. Because they are cowards who didn't know how to manage themselves and baited entire audiences or listened to some crappy executive who didn't understand shit about the story. (wink wink, looking at a certain something...)

So yeah, I do love the DiD theory and both of it's takes and if it happens and is done right, with of course my perspective on the thing and PRIMARLY the perspective of people who have DiD or know a lot about it, I'll be pleased with it and I think it could be something very important for stories, people, the world and "art" in general.

Thank you for the question it was really fun! I hope I described the theory and the condition in the right way @kaypeace21 and @strangertheory and also the people who are concerned or know about it if I didn't let me know. Also, if you disagree with what I said, the way I said it or the subject itself let me also know IF it's respectful of course.

[theshedding]

Lil Nas X: Country Music, Christianity & Reclaiming HELL

I don’t typically bother myself to follow what Lil Nas X is doing from day to day, or even month to month but I do know that his “Old Town Road” hit became one of the biggest selling/streamed records in Country Music Business history (by a Black Country & Queer artist). “Black” is key because for 75+ years Country music has unsuspiciously evolved into a solidly White-identified genre (despite mixed and Indian & Black roots). Regrettably, Country music is also widely known for anti-black, misogynoir, reliably homophobic (Trans isn’t really a conversation yet), Christian and Hard Right sentiments on the political spectrum. Some other day I will venture into more; there is a whole analysis dying to be done on this exclusive practice in the music industry with its implications on ‘access’ to equity and opportunity for both Black/POC’s and Whites artists/songwriters alike. More commentary on this rigid homogeneous field is needed and how it prohibits certain talent(s) for the sake of perpetuating homogeneity (e.g. “social determinants” of diversity & viable artistic careers). I’ll refrain from discussing that fully here, though suffice it to say that for those reasons X’s “Old Town Road” was monumental and vindicating. 

As for Lil Nas X, I’m not particularly a big fan of his music; but I see him, what he’s doing, his impact on music + culture and I celebrate him using these moments to affirm his Black, Queer self, and lifting up others. Believe it or not, even in the 2020′s, being “out” in the music business is still a costly choice. As an artist it remains much easier to just “play straight”. And despite appearances, the business (particularly Country) has been dragged kicking and screaming into developing, promoting and advancing openly-affirming LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 artists in the board room or on-stage. Though things are ‘better’ we have not yet arrived at a place of equity or opportunity for queer artists; for the road of music biz history is littered with stunted careers, bodies and limitations on artists who had no option but to follow conventional ways, fail or never be heard of in the first place. With few exceptions, record labels, radio and press/media have successfully used fear, intimidation, innuendo and coercion to dilute, downplay or erase any hint of queer identity from its performers. This was true even for obvious talents like Little Richard.

(Note: I’m particularly speaking of artists in this regard, not so much the hairstylists, make-up artists, PA’s, etc.)

_____

Which is why...in regard to Lil Nas X, whether you like, hate or love his music, the young brother is a trailblazer. His very existence protests (at least) decades of inequity, oppression and erasure. X aptly critiques a Neo-Christian Fascist Heteropatriarchy; not just in American society but throughout the Music Business and with Black people. That is no small deal. His unapologetic outness holds a mirror up to Christianity at-large, as an institution, theology and practice. The problem is they just don’t like what they see in that mirror.

In actuality, “Call Me By Your Name”, Lil Nas X’s new video, is a twist on classic mythology and religious memes that are less reprehensible or vulgar than the Biblical narratives most of us grew up on vís-a-vís indoctrinating smiles of Sunday school teachers and family prior to the “age of reason”. Think about the narratives blithely describing Satan’s friendly wager with God regarding Job (42:1-6); the horrific “prophecies” in St. John’s Book of Revelation (i.e. skies will rain fire, angels will spit swords, mankind will be forced to retreat into caves for shelter, and we will be harassed by at least three terrifying dragons and beasts. Angels will sound seven trumpets of warning, and later on, seven plagues will be dumped on the world), or Jesus’s own clarifying words of violent intent in Matthew (re: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” 10:34). Whether literal or metaphor, these age old stories pale in comparison to a three minute allegorical rap video. Conservatives: say what you will, I’m pretty confident X doesn’t take himself as seriously as “The true and living God” from the book of Job.

A little known fact as it is, people have debunked the story and evolution of Satan and already offered compelling research showing [he] is more of a literary device than an actual entity or “spirit” (Spoiler: In the Bible, Satan does not take shape as an actual “bad” person until the New Testament). In fact, modern Christianity’s impression of the “Devil” is shaped by conflating Hellenized mythology with a literary tradition rooted in Dante’s Inferno and accompanying spooks and superstitions going back thousands of years. Whether Catholic, Protestant, Mormon, Scientologist, Atheist or Agnostic, we’ve spent a lifetime with these predominant icons and clichés. (Resource: Prof. Bart D. Erhman, “Heaven & Hell”).

So Here’s THE PROBLEM: The current level of fear and outrage is: 

(1) Unjust, imposing and irrational. 

(2) Disproportionate when taken into account a lifetime of harmful Christian propaganda, anti-gay preaching and political advocacy.

(3) Historically inaccurate concerning the existence of “Hell” and who should be scared of going there. 

Think I’m overreacting? 

Examples: 

Institutionalized Homophobia (rhetoric + policy)

Anti-Gay Ministers In Life And Death: Bishop Eddie Long And Rev. Bernice King

Black, gay and Christian, Marylanders struggle with Conflicts

Harlem pastor: 'Obama has released the homo demons on the black man'

Joel Olsteen: Homosexuality is “Not God’s Best”

Bishop Brandon Porter: Gays “Perverted & Lost...The Church of God in Christ Convocation appears like a ‘coming out party’ for members of the gay community.”

Kim Burrell: “That perverted homosexual spirit is a spirit of delusion & confusion and has deceived many men & women, and it has caused a strain on the body of Christ”

Falwell Suggests Gays to Blame for 9-11 Attacks

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

Pope Francis: Gay People Not Welcome in Clergy

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

The Pope and Gay People: Nothing’s Changed

The Catholic church silently lobbied against a suicide prevention hotline in the US because it included LGBT resources

Mormon church prohibits Children of LGBT parents to be baptized

Catholic Charity Ends Adoptions Rather Than Place Kid With Same-Sex Couple

I Was a Religious Zealot That Hurt People-Coming Out as Gay: A Former Conversion Therapy Leader Is Apologizing to the LGBTQ Community

The above short list chronicles a consistent, literal, demonization of LGBTQ people, contempt for their gender presentation, objectification of their bodies/sexuality and a coordinated pollution of media and culture over the last 50+ years by clergy since integration and Civil Rights legislation. Basically terrorism. Popes, Bishops, Pastors, Evangelists, Politicians, Television hosts, US Presidents, Camp Leaders, Teachers, Singers & Entertainers, Coaches, Athletes and Christians of all types all around the world have confused and confounded these issues, suppressed dissent, and confidently lied about LGBT people-including fellow Queer Christians with impunity for generations (i.e. “thou shall not bear false witness against they neighbor” Ex. 23:1-3). Christian majority viewpoints about “laws” and “nature” have run the table in discussions about LGBTQ people in society-so much that we collectively must first consider their religious views in all discussions and the specter of Christian approval -at best or Christian condescension -at worst. That is Christian (and straight) privilege. People are tired of this undue deference to religious opinions. 

That is what is so deliciously bothersome about Lil Nas X being loud, proud and “in your face” about his sexuality. If for just a moment, he not only disrupts the American hetero-patriarchy but specifically the Black hetero-patriarchy, the so-called “Black Church Industrial Complex”, Neo-Christian Fascism and a mostly uneducated (and/or miseducated) public concerning Ancient Near East and European history, superstitions-and (by extension) White Supremacy. To round up: people are losing their minds because the victim decided to speak out against his victimizer. 

Additionally, on some level I believe people are mad at him being just twenty years old, out and FREE as a self-assured, affirming & affirmed QUEER Black male entertainer with money and fame in the PRIME of his life. We’ve never, or rarely, seen that before in a Black man in the music business and popular culture. But that’s just too bad for them. With my own eyes I’ve watched straight people, friends, Christians, enjoy their sexuality from their elementary youth to adolescence, up and through college and later marriages, often times independently of their spouses (repeatedly). Meanwhile Queer/Gay/SGL/LGBTQ people are expected to put their lives on hold while the ‘blessed’ straight people run around exploring premarital/post-marital/extra-marital sex, love and affection, unbound & un-convicted by their “sin” or God...only to proudly rebrand themselves later in life as a good, moral “wholesome Christian” via the ‘sacred’ institution of marriage with no questions asked. 

Inequality defined.

For Lil Nas X, everything about the society we've created for him in the last 100+ years (re: links above) has explicitly been designed for his life not to be his own. According to these and other Christians (see above), his identity is essentially supposed to be an endless rat fuck of internal confusion, suicide-ideation, depression, long-suffering, faux masculinity, heterosexism, groveling towards heaven, respectability politics, failed prayer and supplication to a heteronormative earthly and celestial hierarchy unbothered in affording LGBT people like him a healthy, sane human development. It’s almost as if the Conservative establishment (Black included) needs Lil Nas X to be like others before him: “private”, mysteriously single, suicidal, suspiciously straight or worse, dead of HIV/AIDS ...anything but driving down the street enjoying his youth as a Black Queer artist and man. So they mad about that?

Well those days are over.  

-Rogiérs is a writer, international recording artist, performer and indie label manager with 25+ years in the music industry. He also directs Black Nonbelievers of DC, a non-profit org affiliated with the AHA supporting Black skeptics, Atheists, Agnostics & Humanists. He holds a B.A. in Music Business & Mgmt and a M.A. in Global Entertainment & Music Business from Berklee College of Music and Berklee Valencia, Spain. www.FibbyMusic.net Twitter/IG: @Rogiers1

[ginkgomoon]

Gavin’s Chapter 26 Parallels- Analysis

This was in my drafts for the longest time, but now since new MLDD chapters are out (and with S2 coming), I thought I should finish this post.

I remember watching this chapter for the first time when it came out earlier this year, noticing parallels about Gavin’s time and behaviour displayed in the STF Observation Centre to other Gavin-related details.

Spoilers of Chapter 26 and future content below.

Gavin’s Encounter Summary

MC, with the help of Shaw and Litton, disguises herself as a man to enter the observation centre to find Gavin and clues about her lost Evol. 

A device for Evol suppression is placed on every test subject in the centre, and she wonders the pain Gavin must be in. 

MC, who? The name’s Mortimer Smith, ID number 134. 

MC is placed with her roommate, another Evolver who lost control of their Evol around the TV tower incident.

He tells her, “as long as you don’t cause trouble and listen to the observers, you’ll get along okay.”

She tries to squeeze out some information about Gavin from him, but learns that it’ll be difficult since they don’t use names to address the Evolvers, but instead codes. 

MC is summoned to "Evol examination" and MC has hope that she might see Gavin. 

She walks down a long corridor with other Evolvers waiting to be examined. 

She fails to notice a shadow in front and collides with a hard, sturdy chest.

Her foot slips and grabs onto the mysterious person’s arm as he holds onto her too.

She’s too embarrassed to look at his face.

She notes that the only thing in her vision was her trembling fingertips on his arms. 

But without looking, she already knows the arms she’s in. 

Emotions build up and she hears his heartbeat. 

She grips his arms tighter as she begins to speak. 

As the observers approach, Gavin finally looks up, his expression turning cold, and they are SHOOK.

He stares at MC for a long time then turns his head to walk on. 

MC lets him walk past. 

Her roommate looks at her in disbelief, surprised that she survived an encounter with “No.7" in one piece, thinking that she was “a goner for sure”. 

She asks if they’re all afraid of him, to which he replies with a nod.

He says that No.7 is more terrifying than Observers themselves, but then retracts his statement. 

Extra: So... has Gavin been having nightmares? :(

Observation Test Centre

The most obvious correlation from other chapters and mentions would be Gavin being named No.7 as his code name, as this number is always associated with him.

This analysis could just end here.

But wait- there's more.

High School

Said to be the “school tyrant” and seen as the outcast, Gavin chose to be misunderstood over conforming to rules- ones that he didn't agree with.

Gavin didn’t have friend groups like everyone else notably did (like MC and her group of friends as they walk down the hallways laughing as Gavin stares googly-eyed from a distance). He had stuck by himself and his own morals like a lone wolf (with his casual but not-so-casual buddy Minor).

MC's roommate: A lot of people that end up here all forms cliques to get along, but he’s always been a lone wolf. And he’s always dealt with anyone who crossed him. Just now you bumped right into him as if you were blind. I thought for sure you were going to get smacked...

Furthermore, Gavin was always the one to challenge authority, whether it would be school teachers or even his superiors later in life. MC stated that Gavin had once fought with a school teacher, but this was probably due to some misunderstanding or that they had existing prejudices against him. 

“No.7! Why are you still standing there!?” 

Observers continue to call out to him, but Gavin ignores them. 

Gavin doesn’t fear that people won’t understand him- he knows that people don’t and won’t, which is also a contributing factor to why he doesn't feel the need to explain himself or his actions to anyone.

But this also is why he also had a rough journey from rightfully staying true to himself. Without any real support system within and outside of school life, Gavin suffered. Luckily, there was Mr Keller who was willing to listen to him. He told Gavin, “since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart". This had a great impact on him.

Additionally, Gavin fears for an entirely different reason. In fact, Gavin understands this sort of fear more than MC realises. Gavin was even more willing to throw himself into this mission when MC was gone because he really had no choice but to continue without her by his side. In Perilous Date, MC and Gavin talk about this its the closing moments.

MC: Gavin, you could be in danger at any time... Do you think it's worth it?

Gavin: I never thought about it... What if I say it's my destiny? Would you believe me? Don't worry. I won't put myself in harm's way again. Seeing you cry is just not worth it.

MC: Aren't you scared?

Gavin: I was never scared before when it was just me. But now... I am.

(Meanwhile MC now in the chapter: *crying*)

MC had kept him moving forward- to become stronger with his goal of protecting her, influenced by his father into joining special training in CN Tilted Time R&S. His father used MC again for Gavin to undergo modification to make his Evol stronger in Chapter 15.

Here’s an extra line that caught my eye:

He stares at MC for a long time then turns his head to walk on. She lets him walk past. 

Parallels with their high school moments:

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook.  -[Boundary R&S]

Special Task Force

Gavin had returned to Loveland City as Special Agent B-7 to find MC at the very beginning.

Even now stripped of his STF title as Captain, he still embodies justice. With his current knowledge of the identities of Evol criminals, he’s even able to find and make good use of them as a distraction in the Observation Centre. 

Gavin’s unapproachability and cold exterior are also highlighted.

MC's roommate: Just now you bumped right into him as if you were blind. I thought for sure you were going to get smacked...

But for MC, he learns from her how to live a more tender life [Spring Festival Date]. For her, he’d live. He’d also help her do anything just so that she wouldn’t have to shoulder anything- even the bare minimum alone. But he hadn’t reflected this upon himself to change- notably seen in Chapter 12-6.

MC: He wasn't like that before when he was with the squad?

Eli shook his head. He opened his phone and brought up a picture, handing it to me.

Eli: He was always like this before.

Gavin's face in the photo was a little immature. Wearing his military uniform, even though he was saluting, there was still an unmistakable look of proud aloofness and unruliness.

New Weapons

After leaving STF, Gavin’s newly appointed code name was NW717. He was able to gain new Evol power by undergoing remodelling experiments. Under NW orders, he snuck into the Observation Centre to find MC, believing that the Evolution Accelerator could lead to some clues.

And no matter what organisation Gavin's under, he’ll always find his way back to her.

This photograph has already turned slightly yellow and has a pretty-looking girl on it. After a while of thinking, I place the photograph next to Gavin’s pillow. Perhaps this way, he can have a good dream. -[CN NW Project R&S]

Emerging from NW, people still were terrified of Gavin, mostly because of his cold aura and powerful Evol, despite his good intentions and his attitudes towards justice. But to MC, he will always Gavin, despite seeming cold and unapproachable to others with this persona. He knows that she’s the one who knows the softer side of him, as the one who he feels is worthy of explaining himself to.

Gavin: You’re the only one I care about, other people’s opinions don’t concern me. -[Go See Him, NW Uniform]

Heart-wrenching reunion after 6+ months of being deprived of each other:

MC: Ga-

Observers: No.7! Why are you still standing there!?

They continue to call out to him, but Gavin ignores them.

He is stunned, his amber eyes freeze then flash with a knowing glimmer. He looks straight at her, his eyes gently caressing her.

Gavin super softly: Don’t cry.

Me: *cries*

Bonus: Gavin's Weibo has 7 beside his name! Additionally, his number in the motorcycle race on the latest date is 7, with his bike having written "B7" and "B7..." displayed.

[jaeminscoffee]

Sleep tight | k.dy

Pairing- Kim Dongyoung x reader

Genre- Fluff, crack, facetime!au

Word count- 1.18k

Warning(s)- None

Synopsis- Your cat's agreeably smart.

Type- Requestedddd!

@kpopscape

"-and that's why i decided to call you."

You hear snickers from the other side of the screen, most likely to be that of your boyfriend's or one of his teammates. 

"You decided to call me because your cat threatened to break your flower vase if you didn't?"

Maybe that needs some explaining to be done. You hate Doyoung's choice of career path. Not really, but you hated what his career path called for. Constant traveling, frequent stays at dormitories, busy days, and of course, no cuddles. You're happy that he gets to do what he likes with a strong passion as his work but you hated that it'd always mean that you'll have to spend nights cold rather warm in his embrace most of the time. You hated that sometimes he'd get so busy to a point where he can't even check his phone which always led to you being worried. So you decided to call him. Two hours after your previous call. 

Of course you didn't call him because your cat threatened you. You just missed him and knew better than to call him during schedule so you call him as frequently as you can during his break time. 

Doyoung let out a chuckle while shaking his head at your rather serious expression to the question asked. "Mhm. Julie said she'd push the vase kept by the foyer that you gifted me if I didn't call you."

"That's meticulous."

It's a little late in the day. Probably bedtime even. Would've been a peaceful cozy one with Doyoung by your side while you wit away your day in netflix and chitchats while both of you fell asleep slowly in the warmth and protection of each other. But all you had to work with today was the comforter from the guest room that the members sometimes lounged in, rolled into a human sized burrito with you legs and arms around it that radiated not even half of Doyoung's body temperature. 

"I'm being seriousss! Don't you believe me?" you whine while the camera faced upwards towards the ceiling, as you were a little too lazy and worn out to hold the phone up. It was convenient enough for you. You got to see his face and you get to hear his voice close by. 

"I do, I do, you big baby but come on! I can't see you, this is unfair." 

You groaned, "But my arm's hurt, I don't want to hold the phone up!" 

"I'm cutting the call if you don't show me your face. Literally" Doyoung replied in a 'as a matter of fact' tone which only had you thrash around the bed further, making the phone shake a little alongside, letting Doyoung know of your doings. 

"Babe, I'm going to count down from 3. If you don't lift the phone, tell Julie she has all the permission to break that vase." 

You yawn out before stretching out your muscles "3-" "Okay finee!" you cry out, laying down for a little while more; "2-" damn did you hate countdowns "On-"

"Hi, hello yes. Here." you pick up your phone immediately, holding it up high above that showed your being till your middle, "Oh-"

"Alright, first my hoodie, then my sweats, take my boxers next" Doyoung gave you an accusatory look, feigning it, obviously. 

You look down for a moment, "I don't know how to tell you this"

You laid there in Doyoung's blue hoodie and his boxers that acted a knee length short that was a perfect night fit for you. They had the 'Doyoung feels' in it and of course, his scent. You'd at least be able to have his musk surround you even if he wasn't in order for you to sleep even comfortable. 

"Oh y/n, what will I do with you?" He questioned, mostly to himself than you. 

You set the phone down after positioning your pillows in a way that could capture your face as you settle down onto your side, cuddling into the comforter roll a little more, feeling at ease at the casual conversation going on between the two of you. "How about, you sing for me?" you ask, closing your eyes slightly, snuggling into your head pillows 

The other end of the line went silent, making you crack open your eyes only to find him looking at you in a judgemental way. The more the stare off lasted, the more the defeat found its way to Doyoung's practice room. Sighing, he gave up. Nonetheless giving into your favor. 

"Fine. Only because I love you."

You hear shuffling from the other side of the screen, sounds of sports shoes tapping on the floor and a door shutting behind. Only for a new door being opened to be heard. "You know, sometimes i feel like the amount of love and adoration i have for you is terrifying and I'm now concerned"

Doyoung receives a hum as a reply, making him smile softly knowing you'll soon fall into slumber any minute now. "Still want me to sing for you?" he stared tentatively at your peaceful figure. Were you asleep?

"Yep. Sing for meee" you say, voice small as you snuggle the side of your face further into the pillow, feeling much better now that the background voice has died down.  You hear him clear his throat, shortly starting to hum the tune of your two's favourite piece. 

"On a dark desert highway

Cool wind in my hair

Warm smell of colitas

Rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance

I saw a shimmering light

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim

I had to stop for the night"

A smile grew on your face at the angelic voice of your boyfriend. Imagining as though he's beside you singing, rather at an empty studio singing for you through the device. 

"There she stood in the doorway

I heard the mission bell

And I was thinkin' to myself

'This could be heaven or this could be hell

Then she lit up a candle

And she showed me the way

There were voices down the corridor

I thought I heard them say"

You pull the comforter roll closer, imagining it to be Doyoung. You feel yourself surrender to the soothing melody of the song and your slumber. Eyelids weighing down more and more, 

Indulged in the song, Doyoung failed to notice his girlfriend passed out comfortably, cutely snuggled and tucked into a bunch of comforters and pillows and his hoodie pulled over your head. 

"Welcome to the Hotel California" He ended it there, "did you like it?-" Finally opening his eyes open to pay full attention to the screen, a loving smile immediately finding home in his features. Of course, you'd fallen asleep. Scared the volume of his voice would disturb your beauty sleep, Doyoung opted to whisper instead, wishing oh so desperately to be the one cuddled up by you instead of your blanket and to place a peck on your forehead. 

"Good night, my love."

And so Julie decided that the call was good enough to spare the flower vase. 

[asclepius-erebus]

The Armored Man

Title: Personal Eden (Ongoing)

Chapter 1: The Armored Man

Rating: Mature (17+)

Word Count: 2.0k

TW: Mentions of abuse (physical/verbal)

Flanked by suited guards at all four corners of the private billiards room, you stand nervously at the side of your master; an aging politician, paranoid about not only his perception in the public eye, but also self-preservation in the wake of his long winded history of gambling, trafficking, and despicable ideologies that have even the most corrupt audiences cannot accept. He frequents this particular casino, how fitting, and is notorious for his poor betting skills and overall ineptitude for making any sort of rational monetary agreement. You’ve witnessed his dumbness before, betting all of his credits away simply to serve his enormous ego.

You keep your head low, not allowing yourself even a glimpse at his newest client until it was permitted of you to do so, that was the rule. Instead, you focus on the sparkling silver platter in your hands, covered with an equally as spectacular dish cover, with elaborate embellishments and with enough brilliance for you to make out even the finest details in the reflections of the muraled ceiling. You catch your own reflection in it, your ruby lips coming to a fine line of both despondence and humiliation.

For as long as you’ve endured this job, it never fills you with the pride that your master promised you it would, nor what he shames you into believing.

You’d agreed to the work a few years ago (five… perhaps), where the pay was handsome, living conditions guaranteed to be provided, and with the promise of growth and experience to graduate you into higher ranked and paying jobs. However, you quickly learn this was not the case when standing in a line with many other girls who looked nearly exactly the same as you. But by then, you’d signed the contract, and you were picked out of that line of young women to serve the man you are not allowed to refer by name but simply master and sir. It’s an arrangement you deeply detest, but one you’ve been conditioned to follow out of fear for your own safety, and security.

“Mando!” Your master greets boisterously, “If you don’t mind me calling you that.”

“Ja’Aele Malsifer.” You hear a voice say in polite greeting, filtered by a modulator, the speaker likely wearing a helmet. But even over the digital graininess, their tone felt warm and pleasant. You do not hear them take the empty seat at the other side of the table, Malsifer is surely displeased by the blatant rejection of his gesture of performative kindness.

“Lighten up, will you? It’s just us friends here today. Y’don’t need to be so uptight.” Malsifer continues, popping open the top of a crystal whiskey bottle and serving himself and his guest a drink. There was still no movement to be heard from the guest he refers to as ‘Mando’.

“I don’t remember us ever being friends, Malsifer.” Mando responds, you hear him lean on the back of the upholstered chair, “What do you have for me, otherwise, I’m leaving.”

You understand this to be your cue to set the silver platter down between them at the table, before the sharp quip of Malsifer’s metal cane snaps at your shins and you nearly let the silver platter collapse onto the ground. Luckily you catch it.

“I didn’t tell you to put it down, did I?” He hisses through his teeth, returning his cane at the side of his seat before taking a drink of his whiskey, “Please, Mando, you haven’t touched your drink!”

“I didn’t ask for it.” Mando responds sharply, “I don’t have time, nor the patience. What do you have?”

Malsifer bitterly motions with his glass for you to set the platter down at the center of the table, removing the cover to unveil a handful of tracking fobs, some blinking more erratically than others. At this opportunity, you steal a glance upwards at his guest, Mando, to find him completely decorated in armor made of Beskar.

He looks completely and utterly enormous in his costume; broad shoulders, puffed chest, gnarly buttons and switches across his wrists, and a cape round his neck for what could only be dramatic effect. He is terrifying.

You have experienced your fair share of questionable clients that Malsifer hosted, some as physically repulsing as Hutts, and others more beautiful like Twi’leks, but this armored man (if he even was a man) is clearly a terrifying force, one that earned the Beskar to decorate his armor.

You back away to the side of your master, awaiting any further instruction, and perhaps the opportunity to finally lift your lowered gaze.

“I have a few… enemies, so to speak.” He begins, “Some unfriendly business partners for whom a bounty is worth less than what they owe me.”

“What’s your point?” The armored man asks, “You’d rather have them killed than for them to pay you back?”

You agree to his logic. At this point, you’ve known that Malsifer has exhausted his coffers extensively, and that it’s much easier to clear his debt by killing the ones who owe him and to upcharge anyone or anything that is now required to repay the enormous sums.

“I’m offering you payment for a service.” He replies simply.

“I’m a bounty hunter, not an assassin.” Mando replies just as tersely.

“Exactly!” Malsifer exclaims, “What made you think I won’t compensate you for your troubles?”

“It’s not just me who thinks so.” Mando responds.

Malsifer laughs, swirling his whiskey, “I’m well aware, which is why I’d rather invest in something well worth my money.”

At this point, your eyes perk up at the conversation, sensing that Malsifer’s patience is eating away with every passing moment. Mando does not seem willing to entertain his comments and sarcasm, however, it is how Malsifer determines who is his friend or foe. He is the classical example of someone who requires others to enable his behaviors rather than constructive criticism, no matter how kindly you approach the matter. You’ve felt it across your knees and shins even with the softest, most encouraging, tone of voice.

Mando clears his throat, reaching from some place behind him and keeping his hand there for a moment, “I’ve been given an offer much more expensive than yours…”

“I’ll double the pay!” Malsifer says boldly, his vision set on what Mando holds behind him.

Suddenly, clattering onto the table, is another tracking fob, blinking angrily and rapidly as though the target were right in front of it.

Mando clears his throat, “You.”

Malsifer’s eyes widen in surprise.

The room erupts into the deafening shrieks of red blaster fire as they fly into every corner of the room with deadly precision and accuracy and into Malsifer, before stopping at you.

Your skin erupts into fine little goosebumps, a chill sweeping over you as you barely finish inhaling a breath and drop the silver platter’s cover onto the carpeted ground. The yell you let escape is short lived when you realize that the blaster has taken aim at you, with Mando behind the trigger.

“You. Who are you?” He demands.

Your name quivers from your scared lips, tears blurring your vision altogether as you silently pray to the Maker in an effort to consolidate a good place for you in the afterlife.

“Will you help me take him back to my ship?” Mando asks, his blaster still trained onto you, grip slightly loosened. His voice took on a softer tone, more sympathetic.

Your eyes focus onto him. You didn’t notice his helmet before, too focused on the elaborateness of his other armor to see that the same skill and craftsmanship had been applied to his helmet as well. Sharp angles of the Beskar metal accentuate where sunken cheeks would be, and a thin and impenetrably black visor is the only point of reference for eyes. It looks too much like a storm trooper’s helmet, but judging from the medium of choice, an Imperial manufacturer couldn’t possibly invest so much time, effort, and credits into giving all hundreds and millions of stormtroopers a full set of armor made of Beskar.

“What are you?” You ask, voice shaking, already feeling your makeup melt off your face with every trickling tear.

Mando lowers his blaster irritably, “Will you help me take him back to my ship?”

You decide against any further questioning, knowing that soon, more security will arrive to investigate the situation. For you, it would surely be on sight.

Nodding, he hoists the lifeless body of your master onto his shoulder before slinging his arm over your shoulders to distribute the brunt of the weight more equally. Malsifer’s metal cane topples to the ground.

Mando kicks it up into his hand, briefly investigating it and removing the silver head piece, revealing the small and compact dagger that you’ve seen be used as a letter opener and an interrogation device.

He hands it off to you, “Might come in handy.” He says.

You’re physically repulsed to be holding the instrument of yours and other’s misery in your hands as a ‘handy’ tool to inflict yet even more suffering, as if it weren’t enough. Clearly, the armored man had little consideration for that.

The two of you clamor out another exit, one that led down an empty stairwell and out back into the gardens. The air smelled rich with incoming rainfall and the aromatic flowers that bloom during the later night hours. This would be an enjoyable setting, however, with a dead body slung over your shoulders, your body experienced all ranges of emotions at once, fifty times over.

The sky begins to open up as the two of you race across the mazes and patches of flowers and into the neighboring forest of trees whose dense canopies made it that much darker than the night and two moons could already afford. The leaves, however, did little to shield from the heavy rain that punished you further on the already unfortunate night. The light and flowy dresses that Malsifer had you wear did little to protect you against the cold downpour that transpires over the course of a few minutes. They stick to your arms, legs, and back as you race with the armored man through the forest, the sounds of shouting and alarms blaring behind you.

The armored man slows, stopping upon an open hull to a ship you could not see very well in the dark. He releases you from the weight of your dead master, dragging him up into the darkness of the hull.

“Go!” The armored man shouts at you insistently.

Your eyes dart behind you, the noise of the shouting, the alarms, and the rain overwhelming your already stressed senses. You try to quickly think of a way out of the forest, but you’re helpless without anything to protect you, feed you, and keep you safe against the elements of the landscape you’re not familiar with. The mobs will certainly find you amidst the shrubbery and trees, making you basically dead. You’d be framed for Malsifer’s death, and subsequently be put to death as punishment.

You look back up at the armored man, who continues to haul Malsifer’s body further into the abyss of his dark hull.

“I have no where to go!” You cry up into the hull, hoping that Mando could hear you, “If I stay I’ll be killed!”

The familiar armor returns into view, side stepping one side of his body out of the ship and the other remaining inside, also deliberating something.

“I don’t need anyone else on my ship.” He says dryly, his helmet looking down at you from his height.

You look back in the direction of the casino, the mobs sounding as if they’re closer.

“Please?!” You beg, “You don’t understand, I have no where to go! I have no family, no friends, no money! If they find me here they’ll blame the murder on me, and then they’ll kill me if they don’t do it now!”

The armored man looks into the distance, seeing the same dancing lights as you are of search animals and security officers scouring the area for yours and his scents.

“Fine.” He says, “Get in”.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #46: Carmilla

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re building Elizabeth Alter, a.k.a. Carmilla. This is what happens when you feed Eli after midnight. She’s a Cleric/Sorcerer mix who can deal a lot of necrotic damage to whoever’s unlucky enough to fall into her traps. If you want outright torture though, you’ll have to get creative-it’s  like you’re supposed to be the good guy in D&D or something.

You can check out the build’s summary spreadsheet here, or read the level-by-level breakdown below the cut!

Race and Background

Carmilla’s a special case: she was a human when she was alive, but as a servant, she’s kind of a Vampire. It’s close enough for us though, and Planeshift Ixalan was kind enough to give vampires a playable race. As a vampire, she gets +2 Charisma and +1 Wisdom, 60′ of Darkvision, Vampiric Resistance to necrotic damage, and two skills related to bloodsucking. Bloodthirst lets you make a melee attack on a willing, incapacitated, or restrained creature, dealing 1 piercing and 1d6 necrotic damage. The victim’s current and max HP is reduced by the amount of necrotic damage taken until their next long rest, and you heal equal to that amount as well. Your Feast of Blood means that for one minute after draining someone’s blood, your speed increases by 10′, and you have advantage on Strength and Dexterity saves and checks. It’s not quite getting younger, but it’s certainly nice. The damage from Bloodthirst doesn’t improve on its own, but we’ll be taking care of that ourselves.

For our background, we’ll make a variant of the Noble background. Carmilla may be queen, but she didn’t sit on the throne peacefully. This will give you proficiency in History and Intimidation, and your Position of Privilege means you’ll always be welcome in high society, or else.

Stats

First off, make your Wisdom as high as possible. You did rule a kingdom after all. Next is Charisma, because you ruled that kingdom mostly through fear. After that is your Constitution; you siphon your health from others, but that just means you have plenty to spare. I’d say you’re not that ripped, but you do somehow lug a massive iron coffin around with you, so let’s pick Strength next. After that is Intelligence; you’re not stupid, but we need other things more. Finally, we’re dumping Dexterity; for an assassin, you’re terrible at being discrete. Your best bet is to be so terrifying everyone pretends not to notice.

Class Levels

1. Cleric 1: Starting off as a cleric might seem an odd choice, until you remember Death Clerics exist. At first level, death clerics are proficient in  Wisdom and Charisma saves as well as two skills, which for you are Medicine and Insight. The key point of torture is to hit where it will cause the most pain, not the most damage. Now you’ll know their weak points, both physical and mental.

You also learn spells at this level, which you can cast with your Wisdom. Death Clerics can prepare first level spells from the cleric list, as well as the spells False Life and Ray of Sickness. You also learn three cantrips. Toll the Dead hurts more on creatures who are hurt, which is great, and works well with another feature you get at level one. Sacred Flame’s branding is a bit iffy, but setting people on fire is always a fun time. Finally, most of your torture gear is going to have to be handmade, so use Mending to keep everything together.

Finally, death clerics become a Reaper, learning the one necromancy cantrip that isn’t already on the cleric list (Chill Touch), and allowing you to cast single target necromancy cantrips on two creatures if they’re within 5′ of each other. The iron maiden’s doors are wide enough for everyone. Also, chill touch prevents its target from being healed, which would really cramp your style.

For weapons, you’ll mostly be using a Morningstar. You have a staff, but it’s really pointy, and you’d want to keep a hand open for spells and your Bloodthirst anyway.

2. Sorcerer 1: First level Sorcerers also get Spells, using their Charisma instead. Use Minor Illusion and Control Flames to mess with your victim’s mind. Gust will push back the unsightly creatures you can’t even bring yourself to touch. Poison Spray is also there. For first level spells, grab Mage Armor to set up that nifty thorn outfit you’ve got going on and Charm Person to make using your torture implements that much easier. You can’t make the victim intentionally hurt themselves, but there’s nothing inherently harmful about chaining yourself up, right?

First level sorcerers also get their Sorcerous Origin. The Bathory’s draconic bloodline has mutated in you to something... darker. Shadow Sorcerers get Eyes of the Dark, which at first level enhances your darkvision to 120′. You also learn the Strength of the Grave, allowing you to make a Charisma save when reduced to 0 hit points to instead hang on at 1 hp. You can only succeed on this save once per long rest, and it won’t work if you’re taking radiant damage or a critical hit. As it turns out, vampires are pretty hard to kill.

3. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic, gaining sorcery points that will later be used for metamagic, but right now can only be used to make more spell slots. 

Speaking of spells, you learn Sleep at this level. Sleeping enemies are a good target for your Bloodthirst, or to get dragged into a torture device. 

4. Sorcerer 3: Third level shadow sorcerers get an improvement to their Eyes of the Dark. You can now spend three sorcery points or a spell slot to cast Darkness, and if cast with sorcery points you’ll be able to see through the darkness as well. Seeing is a privilege, and one you’re happy to revoke.

Sorcerers also get Metamagic at this level. Heightened Spell is expensive, but combining your saves with disadvantage is practically a sure bet. Having to stop mid-monologue to cast inflict wounds is so passe. That’s not a problem any more, thanks to Subtle Spell. 

Speaking of spells, you learn a second level spell now. Crown of Madness isn’t that painful for the target at first, but they’ll have to live with what they’ve done for the rest of their lives. That’s where the true psychic damage kicks in.

5. Cleric 2: Second level clerics learn to Channel Divinity once per short rest. As a death cleric, you know two channel divinity options. The standard Turn Undead forces undead around you to make a wisdom save or run away from you. You should probably skip this one, especially since you’re undead too. Maybe. RAW Ixalan Vampires aren’t listed as undead, but they are vampires, so that probably falls under DM fiat.

For better use of your divinity, look no further than the Death Cleric’s Touch of Death. When you hit a creature with a melee attack, you can add 5 + twice your cleric level in necrotic damage to that attack. Your Bloodthirst is a melee attack that likes necrotic damage, and this adds a lot of necrotic damage to a melee attack. It’s a match made in heaven.

6. Cleric 3: Third level clerics get second level spells, and death clerics can add Blindness/Deafness and Ray of Enfeeblement to their spell lists. You’re going to want that last one: dumping dexterity means your AC is... not good. Best to mitigate the damage where you can. Some other spells you should check out at this level include Silence to abuse your subtle spell ability, and Spiritual Weapon. Technically it can be whatever form you choose, so why not a floating iron maiden? Sadly, this can’t restrain a creature, but you can also use Hold Person to keep one opponent steady while you find their jugular.

7. Cleric 4: Use your ASI to bump up your Wisdom for more and better spells. You also get another cantrip at this level; Thaumaturgy lets you really make an entrance, and gives you that “demon eye” look you have at your lower ascensions. 

8. Cleric 5: At fifth level, your turn undead becomes Destroy Undead, instantly killing any undead of CR 1/2 who fail their wisdom save. The jury’s still out on you being undead, and you’re probably well over CR 1/2, but why risk it?

You also get third level spells, including your domain spells Animate Dead and Vampiric Touch. Getting some extra use out of your torture victims is nice, and Vampiric Touch uses wisdom instead of strength for more consistency in exchange for less healing. Some other spells to check out include Bestow Curse and Speak with Dead for more on-brand spells, and Life Transference just in case someone else in your party needs healing. You’ll just get it back from someone else anyway.

9. Cleric 6: Sixth level clerics can now channel their divinity twice per short rest, meaning you can add a total of 34 necrotic damage to your attacks between rests. You also learn the art of Inescapable Destruction, meaning your cleric spells and channel divinity ignore resistance to necrotic damage. Good news for you, bad news for those half and 2/3rds god types.

10. Cleric 7: Seventh level clerics get their fourth level spells, including your domain spells Blight and Death Ward. The former does a lot of necrotic damage, but it doesn’t really fit in with what you want to do. Blight removes someone’s bodily fluids, but you want to take them for your own. You can instantly kill a tree though, so congrats on learning a pokemon move. Death Ward also adds another layer of Not Dying to a creature of your choice, namely you. Not dying is good, you should try it.

Another fourth level spell you should check out is Freedom of Movement; forcing a villain into their own deathtrap is cliche and your strength isn’t that high. Don’t be a fool. 

11. Cleric 8: Use your next ASI on your Charisma.  You don’t have many sorcerer spells, but charisma is also tied to how terrifying you are and more importantly, your Not Dying roll. Destroy Undead increases to CR 1 if you were interested, and you gain a Divine Strike, which adds 1d8 necrotic damage to a weapon attack you make once per turn. This doesn’t work with your Bloodthirst, but a bit more pain on your normal attacks never hurt. You, anyway. It’s going to hurt a lot of other people.

12. Cleric 9: Ninth level clerics get their fifth level spells, including your final domain spells, Antilife Shell and Cloudkill. Melee combat is for peasants, and antilife shell lets you live your best life, with everyone at least 10′ away from you. Cloudkill’s also nice, but poison is more Semiramis’ thing. Another spell to look at is Contagion, which afflicts one of a number of dreadful diseases on a creature. Flavor these into some torture techniques, and you’ve got your favorite spell ready to go.

13. Cleric 10: Tenth level clerics learn to rely on Divine Intervention, possibly allowing a deity to help you in any way your DM sees fit. This does mean you’ll have to figure out who your deity actually is, though. Since we’re on a MTG kick with your race, there’s always the Piety options from the new Theros book. You strike me as an Erebos sort of woman.

Aside from all that, you also get a new cantrip at this level. Guidance lets you add 1d4 to one ability check. You can have a little imperial privilege. As a treat.

14. Cleric 11: At eleventh level, you can see your Destroy Undead climb to killing CR 2 undead. Or you would if not for the fact they’re probably your undead to begin with. More constructively, you get 6th level spells! Create Undead lets you make more useful minions out of your victims, and Harm lets you deal a massive blast of necrotic damage to a creature while eating up a chunk of their maximum HP.

15. Cleric 12: Twelfth level clerics get another ASI, which for you is maximizing your Wisdom for even stronger spell saves.

16. Cleric 13: Thirteenth level clerics get seventh level spells. Divine Word lets you cash in all that HP reduction you’ve been getting to deafen, blind, stun, and even kill creatures based on their current HP.

17. Cleric 14: Destroy Undead increases again to CR 3, and in only slightly more useful news your Divine Strike improves to adding 2d8 necrotic damage per turn.

18. Cleric 15: Fifteenth level clerics get eighth level spells. There isn’t much in the way of high powered spells that help out your build, but the high level slots are good for empowering spells you have and for making more sorcery points.

19. Cleric 16: Use your last ASI for higher Constitution. That gives you better concentration and  a lot more health.

20. Cleric 17: Your final level brings your Destroy Undead up to killing CR 4 creatures, and you learn ninth level spells. Despite their power, ninth level spells don’t really do much for your build; you can’t even True Resurrection the original Elizabeth Bathory. However, you do get Improved Reaper, letting you double up on necromancy spells up to the fifth level.

Pros: Your sorcery points and Improved Reaper mean that you have a lot of energy in you for low level spells, letting you stay active for much longer than other spellcasters. You also have several spells that can effectively shut one enemy out of a fight. You probably aren’t strong enough to kill someone in the duration of a single Hold Person, but that should be enough time to mutilate them with some Contagion-based torture techniques. Finally, you’re pretty okay at not dying: you can heal yourself while still attacking enemies, you have pretty high HP for a full caster class, and you have two get out of death free cards you can punch per long rest.

Cons: You need to be hard to kill because you’re definitely not hard to hit; dumping dexterity did you no favors there. There’s also a dearth of high level spells that fit with this build-the consistency of low level spells is fine, but that’s never going to make up for not having a wish-tier spell to use. Finally, specializing in necrotic damage might be an issue in a world where the undead exist. This problem is easily solved by breaking character a bit and grabbing some radiant spells or using your other Channel Divinity option, if you’re really pressed for choices.

Next up: We’re making the strongest build in the world!