#don't you lov it when people think they know what you want and who you are and what u like better than u do urself?
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Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Eight
It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.
However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.
Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F
AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 28
[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] Part Twenty-Eight [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]
If you had thought that the relatively good note that last gala in Connton ended on was a sign of things to come, you would have been wrong. Despite his more jovial turn at the end of the night, Dale’s melancholy in the garden persisted far more than that last mood. If anything he’d been more distant, with hints of a frustrated temper that worries you in its reminder of the man you’d no longer thought you’d have to deal with. You can’t tell what is causing the mood, though you know of many potential culprits.
It could be the investigation. Early the last morning in Connton, you’d seen Dale conversing in the stable loft with a pair of rough-looking folks. From their serious, almost sharp demeanor, and their nondescript brown clothing, everything about them screamed mercenaries. Dale was crouched in the shadows and you almost didn’t recognize him. In fact, you were fairly certain you weren’t supposed to be able to as nothing of his physical features were discernible beyond the vague outline of a person, but his eyes were glowing bright blue with white pupils. The way they had reflected briefly with the light of the single swinging lantern had made you think they belong to a cat at first. The mercenaries certainly looked respectful of his obvious inhuman appearance. When Dale was playing his own contractor, he must be pretending to have demonic enhancements.
You don’t think they noticed you—you hurried on your way quickly enough—having only been up this early to accept the box of herbal ingredients you’d ordered from a local shop. Still, it worried you because the mercenary angle of the investigation wasn’t expected to move forward quickly enough for them to need to meet again so soon. Not that you’d had a chance to speak with Dale about it, or could admit to what you saw in mixed company.
Between the trip back to the Northridge estate, settling back into the estate, and then preparations for the wedding, you’d not had a single moment alone with him. One of his grandparents was always present. They spoke only of wedding matters in the company of others and pressed him for updates on the investigation when alone, which he refused to grant. This left you without any new notes on the situation either.
Dinner the last couple nights had been pleasant, with Dale spending an acceptable amount of time with family. However, nearly all wedding guests had arrived by now–with no sign of Great Aunt Deborah to the Northridges’ collective relief. Dale had elected to spend the majority of his socializing with the friends with which he’d traveled abroad. Even if it did result in him getting rather more drunk than he usually had.
You take a sip of your own wine and gently chide yourself that he isn’t that bad—and certainly not as bad as some of the others. However, you want to spend that time with him. You want another private walk in the garden. You want his hand in yours. You want his support with your family—who you were weathering, but primarily on your own. It still irks you to have talked more with his relatives and your own than with him or even much with his friends these past nights. He’d given cursory introductions, but seemed intent on socializing with them without you.
Perhaps he knows you’d not get along. Perhaps he is trying to afford you more time to speak with your family, to reestablish yourself as an adult with them. You’d thought you’d made your appreciation of his support clear, but maybe he just thought you only needed him to smooth over the beginnings of conversations and not throughout? Perhaps he is attempting to gather information for the investigations on either Eastmont or the Heiress. Maybe he’s trying to verify the people he excluded from the list were proper. If these friends of the original Dale are more likely to open up with only their old friend and not his new, wallflower fiance, is that so unreasonable?
Dale hasn’t discussed any of this with you and you hate how your mind jumps to the conclusion that he’s avoiding you when it’s as likely that he was simply too busy to take the time. Because that guess is too close to your other fears. That perhaps he has made other plans. That maybe getting back into the world of demonic mercenaries is tempting. Or maybe he can see now that noble life came with its own dangers. Or all the pretending was making him realize he’d be playacting as Lord Dale for the rest of his time here and he isn’t sure he wants that anymore.
A body bumps into your own, startling you out of your reverie and your spiraling thoughts. A baron you barely recognize says, “My apologies,” as he hurries over to catch a servant’s attention. You sigh as you finish your own glass of wine and look for something lighter to drink for the rest of the evening. If you’re already this nervous, with so many anxious thoughts tumbling around in your mind, the clearer you can think the better.
Grandmother had left for the evening, with your blessing and thoughts on one of the dessert dishes for the chef you’d hired for the wedding. Your mother had followed her. Your father had retired early with the grandchildren. Callalily and her husband had been with some of Dale’s more distant relatives all day because Callalily could and would find a way to expand her social network anywhere.
You’d better join Marigold, her husband, and the artistic circle they had accrued before Douglas charitably drew you into his circle of military compatriots. You’d sacrificed last night to that group, wanting to see the sibling you knew the least—and you think it had been worth it—but your lack of personal experience often left you feeling like an outsider or plain confused. With the way your mind is intent on gnawing at itself this evening, you’d best avoid them. Unless you see Dale join them of course—he’d made a few comments when he was there last night that worried you in the attention they received.
At this rate you were going to leave your wedding only to immediately fall asleep for a week. But until then, where is Marigold? Had she gone to inspect the gardens and the statues within? The sun was setting, but there was still plenty to see by for all the servants would start lighting the torches soon. Accepting a glass of iced tea, you walk along the side of the room with doors out to the gardens, trying to see if any groups are out there.
You think you might have spotted a handful of people in a courtyard, when a hand on your arms startles you. You turn abruptly enough to have to adjust your grip on your glass to keep from spilling only to find Callalily.
Before you can say anything, she links arms with you and begins to walk away from glass doors outside. “I have been meaning to speak with you,” she leans in closer to add, “in private.”
“Oh?” You furrow your brow, but gesture her into the nearby alcove, decorative screens blocking most of the view into the great hall. This unoccupied musician storage room is as close to a separate room as you are going to find without leaving the area entirely. Is Mother doing something again? Has one of Callalily’s children broken a vase? She has been alluding to her and your other married siblings giving you some sort of advice which could be nice, but where are the others? And is a dinner in the great hall with so many people around truly the time for such a thing?
“Yes,” Callalily replies, glancing around, before adding, “about your fiance.”
Ice shoots through your veins. Has she seen something? Did he do something in front of her? Callalily was clever and sharp, able to pick up on nuances others missed with ease, not to mention her memory. Why hadn’t you thought of it before? Simply because no one in Dale’s family hadn’t noticed enough discrepancies to make them suspicious, beyond Grandfather’s now put-to-bed worries about you, did not mean no one would. You swallow. “What about Lord Dale?”
“Are you certain…” Callalily begins before stopping. Callalily never pauses like that, as if she is hesitating. You rack your mind for any time that she might have been alone with Dale and seen something you cannot explain away—that she has not already dismissed as a trick of the eye. However, she doesn’t look frightened, merely apprehensive. Has Dale made some other sort of mistake? “I am aware that you are looking forward to marriage and your independence from our parents. However, is there a possibility you might be acting with some rash or willful blindness regarding the betrothed you’ve chosen?”
You need a minute to parse what she’s said, it's so far from what you were expecting. It sounds as if she knows nothing of his true nature instead she’s suggesting... When you finally comprehend her words without your fears overshadowing them, you blink in shock. “Excuse me? Are you suggesting I choose a different fiance? You believe I should sever my engagement?”
Instead of immediately correcting you, she only looks apologetic. “I am only saying that this will affect the rest of your life and it’s important—”
“—Important I give the decision a due amount of thought?” you finish for her, parroting back her words from when she questioned your choice of school and later questioned focusing your studies on administration rather than medicine despite always attempting to impart upon you the importance of making your own choice free from others influences. “I cannot—.” You can’t believe she would ask you something like this, that she would still doubt your ability to make decisions for yourself. And to ask this now, of all times. “I do not know what is worse, that you think I have not already done so or that you think I’m fickle enough to change my mind three days before the wedding.”
“That’s not what I am saying!” she protests.
You’ve always given her the benefit of the doubt, that she worries about you and only wants what’s best for you. This is so far beyond that. Angry frustration fills every line of your body as you resist the urge to throw your hands in the air. You take a deep breath and say, with as little emotion as possible and as much fake patience as you can muster, “Then what are you saying?”
Callalily falters for a split second before straightening her spine with renewed confidence. “If new information comes to light, then it is necessary to change one’s course of action. There are always legitimate reasons to delay or reconsider important decisions. You are allowed to change your mind.” Her voice gentles at the end and you hate it more than you did the self-righteousness of the beginning. And at the heart of it, all she is saying, in more general words, is exactly what she claimed not to be saying.
You take a deep breath. “I am allowed such a choice. You are not wrong that such a thing is possible. But you are still advocating that I break my betrothal, or at least my wedding date.” You pause, to give her the chance to dispute you, but she keeps her lips pressed together. “Do not act as though doing so would not have far-reaching consequences. Do not act as though I shall do so on the word or suggestion of one other person, no matter how I care for you.” Your stern voice breaks, no matter your attempt to keep up the facade. “I do not understand why you are proposing such a course of action. Has something happened, Callalily? Why are you saying this to me?”
“He does not seem trustworthy,” Callalily says urgently, stepping closer. “The rumors that I’ve heard just since coming here have me concerned. He does not seem worthy of your hand.” That should be flattering to hear, that she thinks so highly of you, and in a manner it is, but it also fills you with worry about what she has heard, what secrets she might be edging around. Simultaneously, you’re embarrassed that she thinks you so ignorant as to not have known any of this yourself. “I’m starting to doubt why Mother and Father even entertained the notion of an engagement with Lord Dale. He is not right for you.”
You don’t even know what to say in the face of such vague accusations. The comment regarding your parents is both surprising and not. Callalily’s faith in your parents decisions always corresponds with if they are in concert with her own—if they agree, it is because they are intelligent, logical parents worthy of respect and if they do not… You’ve no idea what rumors she might have heard otherwise, and her concerns might be more valid with the original Dale, but even in that case, you had committed to this course of action and she’d not have swayed you then, at least, you hope not. “Well, I appreciate your concern, sister,” you try to politely brush her off because the worst thing is when she digs her heels in, “however it is unnecessary in this instance. So let us return—”
“Do not “sister” me,” she hisses. You wince, perhaps you overstepped with your more casual dismissal. “My concerns are valid. You’ve not even heard them out.”
“Fine,” you reply stiffly, trying to hide your fear and weariness with having to defend your choices to the person who most advocates you making them. “Name them. What has you so convinced I should not marry? Has he threatened you? Me? Did you catch him with a lover?” You are careful to name the events least likely to your mind, in order to guarantee her negative response. You know they also give away how fed up you are with having to discuss this, but you find yourself beyond caring at this point. If she wants to do this, it shall be at least as unpleasant for her as it is for you. “Please enlighten me.”
Callalily’s expression vacillates between shocked at your anger and annoyance at your continued downplaying of her worries. “I did not have to stumble upon him with a lover to know he’s taken them before.” You want to point out that many nobles do. That you’d known he had done so. That at least he had been discreet enough that there were no children or even solid evidence of who his lovers were, which is far more than can be said for others. “He’s left a string of them as he traveled and left all dissatisfied with how the affair ended. It appears he prefers to make promises of permanence and position and then break any such vows.” You can believe that of the original Dale. The only reason he had been honest with you in the beginning is because he thought you a guarantee. “Not only to his lovers, but to his proclaimed friends as well. Many were thought to have been guaranteed a position in his household only to have such promises broken with ease.”
That final comment might actually be due to the change in Dale, how you have decided together to choose those deserving of such positions and not simply how politically advantageous bringing in certain people might be. You don’t know how many such promises the original Dale had made, nor how many this Dale has broken. The prospect worries you, could that be why Dale is spending so much time with his friends and why he is in such a tense mood these days? Regardless, you can tell Callalily none of this and so you try hard to keep your expression neutral.
It must be working because Callalily frowns at your lack of response and continues before you can rebut any of her concerns. “Then there are the rumors of his interest and experimentation with the Depths, no matter Northridge’s reputation of staunch opposition.” Your eye must twitch at that, or something else gives away your trepidation with this topic. Callalily’s mouth flattens into a grim smile. “I’ve heard from multiple sources about his study of such subjects and his interest in performing such rituals. Any man who seeks the aid of the Depths, against his family’s wishes and without an obvious need, cannot have good intentions. He falls victim to the lesser vices too: gambling, drinking, spending freely on vanity.”
She holds up a hand and counts off on her fingers, “He’s ambitious, selfish, a liar, and a cheat. He’s not to be trusted or relied upon.”
You wait a few extra seconds to see if there is more before you reply. “I appreciate your concerns, however—”
“However, you’re not going to listen, are you?” Callalily’s hands are on her hips and she purses her lips together in frustrated dismay. “I thought only Marigold was this hard-headed. I thought you knew better, I thought you couldn’t be swayed by a handsome face or—”
“That is enough,” you snap, unable to keep the words in any longer. “Is this a discussion or a lecture? I have let you voice your concerns and if you’re not satisfied with my acknowledgment, then I’ll take my own turn to speak now.”
“Very well.” Callalily snaps. “Go on, what do you say to this?”
You’ve no idea where to start and decide to simply go through in the order she did. After a sip of your drink, you begin, “Firstly, I did do my own research in my prospective spouse as I of course considered this decision very seriously indeed. While my contacts and methods are not your own, I do have some.” While Callalily’s were likely other nobles, foreign officials and the like, you had grown close with your servants—maids and nursemaids alike who cared for you in your illness and you’d continued the habit at school. If your maid, Martina, hadn’t had to help her family, she’d have come with you to Northridge. She’d truly retired from being lady’s maid when you went off to school. She’d apprenticed under a nurse and completed her training, but had agreed to be your maid once more, if only until you were betrothed.
“Clearly they weren’t skilled,” Callalily cuts in to diagnose, “if they did not return with similar information.”
“They did,” you correct, because that was in their report, “baring I assume any information that’s related to Dale’s activities from the last two months, of course. The difference is my context for such information and my personal experience with him. Beyond that, you’ve never grappled with the choices I have.”
“Excuse me?” she looks offended, pressing a hand to her chest. “I am married. It was a decision I made with Mother and Father, but I was the driving decision maker, not them, not societal pressure, nor anything except my own drive for my future.”
“And that cannot be what I have done,” you cannot help but allow a certain sardonic edge to enter into your voice at her implication, “what I am doing.”
“You—”
“No,” you interrupt, ignoring her startled expression. “I believe it is time you listened to me, properly for once.” You take a deep breath while she waits, eyes a bit wider than before, for you to do so. “You were the second oldest, with intelligence, a talent for language, and more confidence in society than I’ll ever have. And robust health, of course. Your options for marrying, for how to spend your days—your vision—none of those are mine.” You can see she knows you can want different things but that she’s still not facing reality when it comes to your opportunities. You swallow and continue, “Mother and Father did their best to keep word of my ill health minimal, but they did not try so hard when I was young. Not until I was older did they begin to believe I’d live to be an adult who had to worry about marriage prospects. They expected me to die young or at least not to outlive Aunt Katherine’s age.”
Callalily pales at your statements and rushes to reassure you, “That’s not, no one wanted—”
“I’m not discussing what they wanted,” you reply gently. “I am stating what they believed to be true.” When she still looks as though she will protest, you ask her outright, “Are you going to say they did tell you as much? That I was born in a fragile state, too late in Mother’s life and with the fits just like Father’s little sister. She was twelve when she died.” They had believed you would do the same. No matter how they tried to hide it, you can barely remember a time in your life you did not know that death chased you far harder than it did others, haunting your every spasm. “You should have seen how Father looked at me from eleven ‘til I went three months without a fit, when he could look at me at all.”
Callalily has no notion of how to response. She places a hand on your shoulder, trying for some sort of physical comfort, “I...”
When nothing further escapes her mouth, you try for a smile. “I’m not saying this for pity, Callalily, I’m saying this because you act as though I was not the one who lived through it. As if I was not the one in pain, not the one who was dying. As if I slept through those years.” You’ve never been able to understand that belief. As if, despite certain medicinal efforts, you were in some sort of un-rememberable haze during those times. It was your life, your body.
You straighten as you proclaim, “Well, I did not. I was very aware. My dreams were not your dreams, but I did have them. As it is, I’ve been quite successful, for a given metric of success as I have achieved most of them by. I can walk across a room without worrying I’m going to hurt myself. I can run and ride and dance.” You remember counting steps and keeping track of days and pushing yourself to grab every tiny chance to live. How hard and easy it had been to achieve some of those goals once you began the upward climb to recovery. “I have been able to leave our country estate and attend to school and participate in galas.” You gesture to the ball beyond you.
“At the school that I wished to attend, even if it wasn’t the one you still believe I should have gone to, I was finally able to dream beyond even that.” It had taken some time, your dreams so distant for so long, that you had felt lost once you were there, life overwhelming in a manner you were unaccustomed to. “I do not want to become a diplomat as you are, or an artist, or a knight. An academic or a physician do not appeal either, although I know you think I should become a doctor.” She had said as much in her letters and in person. You have explained that you enjoy the topic and taking care of yourself, but you do not wish it for a career. She thinks it is Mother’s influencing pushing for a more traditional noble life or your own insecurities and fears holding you back. You simply do not want it.
You’ve tried to persuade her you are not settling or giving in or whatever else she believes. You want her to listen so badly this time as you say, “I spent too much time with Asher in his study. I enjoyed my administration classes too much. I was on an estate too long. My wish is to aid in the running of a fief, even if I’m fifth born. Even if the rumors of my sickness were so persistent that the first few potential suitors I was introduced to thought I’d died years ago. I begged Mother for the extra health reports.” You’d hated them, hated how invasive they were and how skeptical the doctors were. You had feared them telling you the illness would return or that you were unfit to be married. However, in the end, you’d needed their assurances to the contrary nearly as much as your prospects had. “Our parents increased my dowry in response to my wishes.” They had still managed the process and it had been what they were hoping for, to see you follow the most traditional path, but why shouldn’t you have encouraged them when it was in service to your own ends?
Callalily did appear to be listening, or at least she made no further motions to interrupt. You feel bolstered by that and say, “There were others we considered. True, not many, but a handful. I’ve no desire to do the socializing and connection forging a new baron would require,” you begin covering the reasons you turned down the few you’d had even a single conversation with. Perhaps it's disingenuous to mention these who you’d no formal discussion about marriage, but they were people and families that had been tangible enough that you recall your reasons of rejection. “I’ve no desire to shoulder all the administration a collegiate heir would ask. I’ve no desire to raise another’s children, never sure of my own future if they move against me. I might not run as cold as Mother likes to believe, but I do not want to spend months in the snow. I do not want to move somewhere I cannot speak the language fluently.” At the last one, you can’t help but give her a pointed look to remind her that you don’t have her facility with language, to reiterate that you want different things.
You take another deep breath, because now you must discuss Dale—without giving voice to any of the changes that have happened with him. “Lord Dale, even with his concerning reputation at times, did not come with such obstacles. Many take lovers prior to marriage, do you think me ignorant?” You are aware she thought you on the naive side, but you need her to remember that you’ve been an adult for years now and do not require such coddling. “He was discrete with those matters, as I am certain you cannot identify them all. Not to mention, they are liable to spin such affairs to have faults that are his rather than their own.” Callalily reluctantly nods her agreement at that.
At least, having connections with who you did meant you were more confident that she might be in the main point. “I made certain he’d sired no bastard children, through my medical contacts.” You can see she hadn’t considered that you might have such advantages, but you’ve no desire to dwell on this topic. You need to confront her concerns with his personality head on before you lose steam. “He’s on the arrogant side, spoiled to a degree given how his grandparents raised him after his parent’s untimely death,” you quietly acknowledge with a glance to ensure you are still alone in your alcove, before continuing, “but many heirs are. As for gambling, he plays cards, yes, but he has no concerning debts I could find. He’s not violent with his friends nor his servants. He’s not a drunkard, if we’re wanting to discuss vices. Did you truly find anything to support such activities?”
“No,” Callalily admits. “You are correct, there was nothing to obvious excess that I discovered in my minimal investigation. However, his research into concerning topics…” She trails off, obviously allowing you to have the floor back.
You’re grateful she’s letting you, that she seems far more interested in a true discussion than she had originally. It’s still more than you’ve perhaps ever said at one time to her and naturally it is on the most complex topic in your life. “As for his academic interests,” you say carefully, “I’ve spoken with him and am aware of his stance on such matters. He disagrees with the rigidity of his grandparents’ laws and actions. In the manner of many rebellious youth, he had pursued the opposite. Now, he seeks to ensure he knows enough to protect himself and Northridge. He has moved on from his more careless experimentation, to my knowledge.” Whatever else he does now, it cannot be more careless, that’s for certain.
“And the broken oaths?” Callalily asks, sterner and more skeptical after your most recent answer.
You sigh, wishing you’d had the foresight to realize how this would appear from the outside. “As for certain promises made to his friends, after he discussed them with his grandparents, myself, and the steward, some were retracted due to unsuitability. It is a sign of the better judgment of the study room rather than the rash wishes when traveling and drinking. It is expected, to change one’s mind in light of the advice of trusted advisors, is it not?” you can’t help but add, echoing her original point.
She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t disagree. You’ve provided a rebuttal to the majority of her points, right? You take advantage of her still rather open mood to attempt to state as clearly as you can where you stand. “My desire is to marry Lord Dale and be his lady of Northridge. I’d thank you to respect my decision. It’s already been made.”
She frowns, but it's more thoughtful and resigned than angry or frustrated which you hope is a good sign. “I see. You certainly have an answer for everything, do you not?” She sighs heavily, but you think you hear only defeat in the sound, not her preparing for another fight. “I had no idea you were so aware of how concerning we all found your condition, nor had I thought since your recovery of what else your illness might still cast a pall over. I think you are still—well, I suppose that’s only my view, is it not?”
“I can continue speaking, explain further,” you offer, but your voice gives away how wearing you find the concept. “You might eventually make a point I haven’t considered.”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head and glancing back at the still bustling grand hall. “I’ll not put us both through that. Not here, not now—though anything you want to confide in me, I’d hear,” she offers with a small smile. “I suppose the only question I have left to ask is: has he been treating you well? Not only in public, but in private?”
She’s sincere in her question and you appreciate the feeling of familial support it gives you. You know if you answered to the contrary, she would help you break such an engagement. The prospect makes you feel safer, even if it is unnecessary. “Yes, he has.”
“Even so, some do not reveal themselves until time passes,” she warns, but you can tell it’s for the sake of it, out of general protectiveness, not doubt in you.
That lets you answer her calmly instead of defensively, “I’m aware. I have contingencies for that outcome, should it occur.” She raises a brow at that, but you’ll not discuss that here. You’ve no notion how she’d see you medicinal protections. “I cannot wait for the clear, perfect, future—I can only grasp what is in front of me.”
“I suppose that is all any of us can do,” she agrees. Then she ventures a more tentative observation, “You have appeared weary and tense over the past few days. I thought he might be the cause.”
You blink in surprise, you hadn’t thought she’d notice. So much for hiding those feelings, you think ruefully. “I’m not one for all these parties and socializing, no matter how I used to long for them. They are more enjoyable in theory, or in moderation.” You smile sheepishly. “Truthfully, I will be pleased after the wedding, when we can stop having them so frequently.”
She smiles back at that admittance. “I see. My apologies, for my presumption. I did not mean to insult you. I was only worried for you.”
“I know.” You place your hand over hers on your shoulder and give it a squeeze. “I thank you for your concern, truly, but please do not broach this topic again,” you plead, eyes darting beyond her once. You try for a casual attitude as you say, “I’ll have no rumors about my wedding being called off, thank you very much.”
“Of course, of course,” she hurries to reassure you. “Let’s rejoin the others.” You follow her out of the alcove and back towards where the majority of guests are congregated, past a few of the now open doors to the gardens. “I don’t think we’ll stay too late tonight—I’ve far too many letters to write in the morning, but I believe I saw Asher—”
Wherever Callalily might have seen Asher, you don’t find out. A commotion in the courtyard directly outside catches both your attention. In one of the courtyards off the grand hall, a knot of courtiers your own age are gathered. The shouting appears to be coming from one particularly drunk figure if the way they are swaying is any indication. The air has the sudden awkwardness of a group who had been having fun only for the tone to abruptly turn serious and uncomfortable. A small circle of space is forming around him, revealing another figure as well. One you recognize all too well.
“Dale,” you say quietly, immediately changing course. Callalily is only a step behind you as you cross the paving stones to the group. The setting sun and the newly light torches cause light and shadow to dance in the wind and by the heights, you hope that's all that’s causing it.
“…believe what I am hearing with these ears,” the drunk man is saying. He tugs on one of his ears for emphasis even as the other clutches his goblet. He turns to another and asks, “Can you Millie?”
“I heard it as well, Willie,” a woman sounding near as drunk as him replies. “Said he required an individual with a greater range of skills. A person more ree-lie-able.”
Willie scoffs. “For how long have you found me so inconsistent, Dale?”
“Wilhelm,” Dale’s voice is easily heard above the chatter around them. He’s clearly trying for calm reason, which you know won’t work on someone who’s clearly had as much as Wilhelm has, but you’re glad he isn’t upset. “You have had too much of your own gift and—”
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” he gives an exaggerated and very low bow you hope he can’t recover from. Unfortunately, despite a half step to the side, he straightens once more with only a mildly more exaggerated sway than before. “How inconsiderate of me.”
You slip through those forming the loose circle, recognizing them as various members of Dale’s traveling party. You come up on his left and murmur, “Lord Dale,” to warn him of your presence as you slot yourself next to him. You can’t help the hand that skates down his side, checking however briefly that he’s still in one piece and with no shadow tendrils to speak of. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, sana,” he replies, his dark eyes meeting yours for a second before they fix back on Wilhelm. They’re not even glowing, which is a profound relief, even if this lighting might excuse such a thing more than others. “Everything is fine.” His tone is still light enough, if anything it contains an apology for you having to join him in dealing with this problem.
You relax at his attitude, hoping that this is routine enough that this group won’t think it out of the ordinary. That it can be quickly handled.
“Is this your doing?” Wilhelm accuses and you look over at him to see him not glaring at Dale any longer, but at you.
You nearly step back in surprise, but Dale’s strong arm wrapping around your back helps you find the support to stay where you are. You’re still not sure what the argument, if there is one, is even about—let alone why he might think you’ve anything to do with it. “Excuse me?” You finally place the name and hesitantly identify him as, “Lord Wilhelm of Aliers, yes?”
“As you rightly must know!” he slurs back before gesturing emphatically with what must be a nearly empty goblet of wine given how careless he’s being with it. “Do not play coy with me!”
You think you were introduced to him the first night you were back on the estate along with the rest of his family, but you’ve not had a true conversation with him. “I do not know—” you try to protest before he cuts you off.
“Are you manipulating Dale into abandoning his friends?” He takes a step forward and Dale’s grip on your upper arm tightens. “Whispering in his ear until he betrayed his oaths?”
You open your mouth and then shut it, no notion of how to respond. What is he even talking about? Dale answers in your stead, retorting, “There was no oath to betray and you are well aware of that.”
“There might as well have been,” Wilhelm hisses and you finally remember that he had been one of Dales’—original Dale’s—choices for a position in the Northridge household. A training master of some kind until this Dale had reconsidered the intelligence of such a choice. Wilhelm takes another step closer. “How dare you, you meddling little pest.”
“Watch your tongue,” Dale’s voice has lost the mild veneer of humor he previously had. “Apologize to my fiance this instant.”
Before you can try to diffuse the situation as if it might be a misunderstanding, Wilhelm takes another gulp of his drink, which evidently was not yet emptied of its contents, and says, “Not a chance. I want, want an answer.” He draws his sword with a surprisingly clean motion and points its wavering tip at you. Even yards away, you do not appreciate the threat. “Is this your doing? Are you the reason he’s all, all, yeah? Did you convince him to abandon me and give my promised posting to another?”
“I did noth—” you try to protest.
“My betrothed has nothing to do with us or the posting,” Dale interjects, pulling you closer and now with his own sword in hand. You’re aware of the circle of space has grown around you. Wilhelm’s other friends don’t appear particularly inclined to reign him in, most just watching for the skeptical. You think you see two exchange coin. “And you shall apologize for the grievous insult you have paid to us both.”
Wilhelm notices his goblet is empty and that Dale’s own sword is drawn, in that order, causing his scowl to deepen. He shoves his cup into someone’s hand with a brisk order to fetch him another before walking closer to Dale into the growing space around the two arguing nobles and yourself. “Are we going to settle this properly? Or do you not care for such activities these days either? Domestic and cowardly, eh?”
You almost want to laugh at the idea of either of those words describing either Dale, but the tension and possibility of a genuine fight keeps any such more light-hearted responses frozen in your chest. You glance up to see Dale’s darkened expression. You feel the tension in his body as he says, “Do not push me, Wilhelm. I will answer you if you continue to do so and you shall not appreciate the result.”
“No,” Wilhelm cries, “it is you who will regret their actions.” And then he charges at the pair of you. Dale releases you, thrusting his cane into you hands and pushing you behind him in the same motion. You stumble into the steadying hands of his valet as he baits Wilhelm away from the spot you’d been standing. You absent-mindedly thank Mr. Murray for keeping you on your feet after the abrupt motion, but you can’t take your eyes off the fight.
The two circle each other after that charge fails and luckily for you, Wilhelm seems to have forgotten you exist. “There’s no need for this, Wilhelm,” Dale says, obviously still trying to talk his friend out of this fight. Wilhelm doesn’t even seem to hear him. Even drunk he proves to be an expert swordsman as he manages several near blows. You can see why Dale considered him for swordsmaster, despite his obvious weakness for drink. He manages a strike that gets past Dale’s guard. Luckily Dale is able to step back so it does nothing more than cut his vest.
It's obvious he’s unhurt, but you watch as Dale’s whole demeanor focuses, as he finally stops trying to prevent this fight. He’s graceful and controlled compared to Wilhelm’s swaying, fast movements. You can’t help but admire the picture he creates as he moves. You don’t fear he’ll get hurt, only what he might reveal, and surely a single duel such as this is nothing compared to the tournament. If you worry for anyone, it’s Wilhelm as his skill might force Dale to answer back more strongly than he wants to given his friend’s condition. Although, perhaps they are no longer quite that close.
In the end, Dales doesn’t bother trying to best a swordsman of such caliber, even if he’s soused. Dale seizes the first opening he sees and presses in bodily, catching and tilting the sword points to the left and locking hilts. Wilhelm sputters something about a foul while trying to get free only for Dale to send both rapiers clattering to the floor. Unfortunately with it gone from his hand, Wilhelm seems to remember how to use the rest of his body and he kicks out at Dale’s knee.
“Rotten cheater,” he spits as Dale grunts and tries to stay on his feet. “Why are you—”
Whatever he’s trying to say is cut off by the whole body check Dale gives him, turning his shoulder into Wilhelm’s chest to knock him back. Wilhelm stumbles, trying to stay standing, but Dale follows him. Wilhelm manages to dodge first one punch and then the next, but the third hits him square on the side of the head. His eyes roll back as he drops like a stone.
Someone catches him before he can hit the ground and Dale’s eyes dart around, as if looking for another threat to handle. You finally look away from Dale’s form and notice that the one who caught Wilhelm as he fell wasn’t one of his friends, but your brother, Douglas. In fact, as you look around you, very few of the original group is still present. Callalily’s whispering in the ear of one woman who is being escorted out by Callalily’s husband, who you don’t even recall joining you out here. Callalily walks over to another lingering couple after sending you a wink.
“I apologize for the spectacle,” Dale says to the dwindling group at large. He focuses on Douglas and adds, sounding bewildered at how quickly everything escalated, “He’d been in pleasant spirits earlier.”
“Clearly he ended up deep in the unpleasant ones in the meantime,” Douglas replies with a cheeky grin. “You two,” he looks right at the remaining couple who are currently tending to the drunk woman, “Millie”. They look startled to be addressed while the woman you finally identify as Millian of Sunston pouts at her empty goblet. “Would you be so kind as to guide me to his,” he jostles the still unconscious Wilhelm, “rooms?” Despite that his words are technically a question, Douglas makes it clear there is only one answer he expects. He’s always been rather good at that. Being taller than even Dale helps. “I think it best we aid these two in sleeping the night's events off in peace.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the woman replies, grateful enough you don’t think she even noticed the implied threat. “My apologies, Dale, for my brother. He—no, no. I apologize profusely for his misbehavior and offer no excuses. We could give none that would be adequate.”
“Peace, Helena,” Dale says, sounding tired. “I should not have encouraged him to enjoy himself so in order to compensate for changing my mind regarding his posting. Regardless, his actions are not your own.”
“Nor yours,” she replies with a self-deprecating smile, “As he has proven himself worthy your reluctance in one foul swoop. I appreciate your understanding his disappointment manifesting itself as it did.”
Dale nods, uninterested in making the night’s ordeal into a longer affair with more obvious recompense as is his right as the challenged noble, the winner of the informal duel, and the owner of this home. For all her feigned confidence, Helena seems relieved at Dale’s easy agreement. You walk over to them, handing Dale his cane back. His eyes are as intent as they ever have been as he looks you over, even though you were not even in the fight. Once secure in your well being, he turns back to Helena. “Please do impress upon him my intolerance of slights aimed at my bethrothed, if not at myself. He’d be wise to apologize.”
“Of course,” Helena reassures him before meeting your eyes. “I beg his pardon and apologize in his stead tonight, my lady. He should never have said what he did and he would never have said them, if not for his overindulgence.”
“I understand and accept your apology,” you reply formally. “We all are aware of how too much fine wine can befuddle the mind and confuse the tongue.”
Millian scoffs at the word ‘confuse’ and Helena and her friend take the opportunity to hustle her away, leading Douglas to sling Wilhelm over his shoulder and follow.
As soon as they are back inside, you notice everyone else in this courtyard has gone as well, only Dale’s valet waits for you within the grand hall’s doorway and Callalily’s district purple and gold dress is evident through the glass window to the right. Grateful you’ve no more audience, you turn to Dale, reaching to trace the cut scored along his vest from Wilhelm’s rapier. “Dale, are you alright? Truly?”
Dale catches your hand in his own larger one. “I’m fine, sana,” Dale says, trying for a smile, but not quite reaching one.
Your disbelief must show on your face because he wipes his free hand down his face and sighs. “I am only tired, as we have discussed.” His thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand, both comforting you and sending a pleasing tingle down your arm. He looks contrite as he says, “I apologize for instigating such a scene.”
“It was no more your fault than Lady Helena’s,” you say, aiming to reassure him. You hope he can tell you’re referring to both his handling of the situation tonight and his decision not to give the swordsmaster posting to Wilhelm in the first place.
You think he understands you, some of the tension in his shoulders dissipating. And yet, he still looks more upset than you’d like from the night’s events. He shakes his head lightly. “All the same, my apologies for the trouble I’ve played a hand in causing.”
“Dale, there’s nothing you’ve done that warrants apology,” you say as sincerely as you are able to.
He gives another small smile in function, if not in sentiment, and lets go of your hand. Reluctantly, you pull it back to yourself, unable to reach back out after he’s pulled away. You glance back inside the hall and try for a smile yourself, hoping to get everything back into a more typical mood. “Shall we return?”
“I’m more tired than I expected after that confrontation,” Dale confesses, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll retire for the night.”
You’re tempted to say that in fact you will not excuse him. You want to demand to know what is weighing so heavily on him these past few days, to shoulder the burden in some way. The most you can likely do is listen to him and he won’t even allow that much. All you need to do is wait three more days, you remind yourself. In three days, you’ll be married and finally alone with each other. You can finally have an honest, private conversation and start your partnership together. You can wait that long. You can. “Of course,” you allow, however reluctantly, “have a restful night.”
A sardonic smile crosses Dale’s face and you think he’s going to make a quip about his tiredness or how much sleep he requires, but then it fades. Do demons get nightmares? Is something else contributing to his exhaustion beyond the galas or the investigation? He looks up at the now dark night sky for a moment before he looks back down at you. He opens his mouth and you think he’s actually going to confide in you. In the end, all he says before walking away is, “I wish the same for you.”
[Part Twenty-Nine]
#my writing#story part#story: nothing's wrong with dale#nothing's wrong with dale#dale#slow burn#monster bf#monster romance#arranged marriage#osha compliant#terato#exophilia#its a long one - the longest one might say#my sister had no opinion about my choice of college and/or major#why do you ask? lol#don't you lov it when people think they know what you want and who you are and what u like better than u do urself?#good intentions#just a bit late#hope theres not too much monologing#hiding in the corner with ur sibling not-yelling at each other#on this 3 days before my wedding#gotta admire a man who can knock out a drunk dude harassing you#douglas also thinks he's funny#chap 2 of 3 brought to you by my week long vacation with all my siblings that just happened#can you tell?#stay tuned for the next chapter with more sibling shenanigans#let me know what you thought!
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I don't have much to say about Magne other than there was an Attempt, but. That time when Twice and Toga got angry with Overhaul for misgendering her was already indicative of what I'm going to get at in a sec, and obviously it was especially relevant because it was a direct show of respect and support from people who very clearly cared about her (and who called her big sis already as it was!!) (×2 imo because Twice was intentionally written to be the readers' insight into the LOV, and the character with whom they were supposed sympathise with the most at/since the beginning, so it's especially important that the first one who spoke up was him), but the story's progression (especially in recent years) is what most assures me that despite a rather poor execution (definitely not the best, but also certainly not the worst) Horikoshi did mean well with her. "People bound together by the chains of society always laugh at those who aren't" :(
#^ when she quotes her friend. like had the manga not gone on like it has that could have very well been a generic#We Live in a Society moment. but it wasn't. and that's what's comforting tbh#in general i think a big issue with magne from what little we know of her is that her reason for joining the lov was fighting back against#a tangibile real world issue (transphobia) vs all the other villains. whose situations Are partially real world issues as well#(eg child abuse) but they also very much present fantasy elements to them (eg toga's treatment due to her quirk)#and i'm not saying this as a justification for killing her off but. when you're writing a superhero comic with a target audience of young#cishet men it is much easier to present them with fantasy solutions to fantasy problems. again not that i think it's right!!!#but i do assume that horikoshi's thought process was more or less this. like. tiger is there alive and well#but he passes and was confirmed to be trans only via word of god so his identity has no bearing on the story itself#while magne's did. which doesn't make tiger's transness any less ''real'' than hers ofc but again i think it was a matter of what horikoshi#could actually deal with (fantasy problems) with the average readers that he has. it sucks all the way around.#which begs the question. ''why create her character in the first place then'' to which i answer: i don't fucking know man#bnha#animanga#mytext#in general. i've seen lots of people do this even with eg toga and her bisexuality (and when it comes to her i completely disagree but w/e)#but. authors who want to depic queer characters in good will but make mistakes or do it awkwardly or anything else#should Not be put on the same level as actively queerphobic authors. at all. do criticise what's worthy of constructive#criticism when you see it but don't even pretend that those two are remotely the same thing#(jic i didn't explain myself well bc i don't think that i did. what i wholly disagree with is that ''toga is a bad bi stereotype''.#i am bi people and i disagree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Headcanon: Dating a black Bimbo
notes: Hey hey! English isn't my first language so sorry if it's not perfect!
synopsis: Just, what if Dabi and Shigaraki had a Black Bimbo girlfriend~
warning: fluff, nsfw, cursing, semi-public, degrading, dry humping, cock drunk, pussy drunk, breeding kink, reader is part of the lov.
Tomura Shigaraki
First of all, your relationship is a true definition of "opposites attract". Shigaraki is the quiet type and he's outstanding only when he has to. When you're bubbly, extravagant and kind of loud sometimes.
but somehow you both get together
he likes the way you dress, and even if he doesn't say it out loud, he still wonders why a girl like you would date him
"so how do I look ?"
he stares at you for so long without saying anything, you are way too hot for his poor brain "Take a picture it'll last longer~" you say with a smirk on your lips. "stfu. That skirt is way too short, you hoe." you stick your tongue out to him "yeah yeah, you like it though~"
when you started dating, due to his quirk. he was very uncomfortable with touching you.
but you're touch starved and you need his hands ALL. OVER. YOU.
so he bought some digital artist gloves, spending his time squeezing your waist, thighs and ass no matter if people are watching or not
he'll slides his hand between your thighs, lightly strocking your covered pussy.
he also likes to kiss your neck slowly going down reaching your deep-cut biting your perky nipples through your shirt
he LOVES when you get your nails done make it long af he loves it "next time you should do them in baby blue... it would suit you"
he will definitely pay for your nails.
if you take him shopping he will complain all day about how much he wants to go home to play video games
but if you want something, he'll pay for it.
"Baby, what do you think of this one ?" he lazily raises his head to look at you "You look like a whore" "okay I'll take this one then~"
once again Shigaraki loves your style so he doesn't mind if what you're wearing "too short" or "too revealing", he likes it
but if someone dare look at you in some disgusting ways, he'll decay them without thinking twice
Don't look at his girl like if she was a piece of meat.
Shigaraki is very possessive
he likes to have you close when there's a lot of people around
so you're often on his lap, even during meetings
but you're such a tease, always trying to get him hard when you're supposed to sit still
pretending to find a more comfortable way to sit as you just press his covered cock with your ass
but your actions have consequences
and Shigaraki is not the patient type.
at the second that the two of you will be alone, he'll bent you over any surfaces and shoves his hard penis inside of you
"Aw look at you" he cooed "you're moaning like a dumb slut on my cock~"
he'll go rough on you, making you moaning and screaming. letting everyone around earing you "that's it baby, scream my name let them know who you're belonging to~"
Dabi
From fuck buddies to lovers in blink of an eye
You get under this man skin ngl
He loves your style, that what's peak his interest in you, but now that you both are dating he can't stop noticing the looks of others on you.
Dabi takes any occasions he has to smack your ass and boobs
"Okay I'm leaving see you later baby" you say and he looks at you "not with that skirt. go change yourself" "wtf no! I love this skirt!" he sighs "babe, I can see your bright pink thong from where I am. it's not even covering you ass properly."
like this man will do it in public with a proud smile when you'll turn to look at him
"look baby I got some new nails~!" "you really do like scratching my back, ain't you~" "wha- ITS NOT ABOUT SEX !"
Dabi is not really fond of nails, like he doesn't like it when it's too long and he will never pay for it
but he will definitely pay for nipples piercings
"oh no... I've break one of my nails..." he smirks "oh no you'll not going to require my help to masturbate anymore~"
Dabi is possessive and oddly jealous
if he sees you speaking with an other guy he'll come calmly, grabbing you by the hips, backhugging you while sending death glares to the poor guy.
when the guy is gone, you'll look at him with a disapproval look "What ? At least he's alive."
he loves making sexual jokes obviously but there's those moments when he's looking at you for a short time and his only thought is "damn I love this girl..."
"You're really pretty you know that ?" he says, dragging you on his lap "where did that come from?" "shut up, just take the compliment"
He's really weak for your touch and when I say weak, it's an HEAVY "weak".
And sometimes no matter where you are, you'll be ending with him between your thighs, your legs wraps around him while he fucks you deep and hard against a wall
his lips busy biting your neck and giving you hickeys, holding back his moans
shhh... I know princess~" he whiper next to ears, biting you lobe lightly "But you have to keep it down, people will ear you~"
he'll keep fucking you, filling you with cum before letting you go "You're such a good girl~"
Then you'll both join the meeting like nothing happens
and he'll smirks like an ass seeing his seed slowly running down your thighs
note: I'm sorry if the NSF isn't good I'm not to write those in english :(
#anime x black!reader#black!fem!reader#black coded reader#dabi x reader#dabi x black!reader#bimbo reader#black bimbo#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x black!reader#mha x reader#mha x black reader#mha headcanons#bnha x reader#bnha x black!reader#bnha lov#league of villians x reader#bnha headcannons
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Core Fusion AU
The people that live in the Infinite Realms are able to fuse like gems in Steven Universe. Why you may ask? It's because their body is made up of ectoplasm that comes from their core, which is very similar to how a gem's form is made up of light and comes from their gem itself.
Fusions occur when two or more ghosts share a similar strong emotion or obsession, such as protection, love or hate. The fusion is a state where the occupants share thoughts and work together to operate a single body, so a lot of trust needs to be present or a singular goal in both minds.
Core Fusions also merge unique powers together to strengthen or link them together more.
Due to this, core fusions are typically seen as a way to show trust in any form or bond between ghosts, and as a way to strengthen forces and power.
Danny is probably able to fuse with ghosts and humans but was never told that it was possible for him bc he's half-human.
Now, this could work for both Dp x Dc and Dp x BNHA.
Dp x Dc
Danny can fuse with people who have been touched by death or have been dead and came back (like Jason).
The fusion would be a physical form that mixes both or more appearances while their cores (pseudo or not) appear as jewellery they wear as the fusion, which changes depending on the fusion.
Since I'm fixated on the dead on main ship right now, let's say that Jason is the one to core fuse with Danny first, and there can be an in depth backstory on how they meet and leads up to the core fusion, and it helps with the pit rage. Danny takes them to either Frostbite or Clockwork to figure out what is going on and they learn about core fusion and how it works.
-possible plot idea ahead-
In Gotham, Red Hood has been MIA for several months from both being a vigilante and a crime boas, and the rest of the batfam are freaking out about it; especially since a new crime boss has come into play going by "The Monarch" or "JD Fent" (The Monarch plays into Danny being either Ghost King or an adjacent role in the Infinite realms, and the JD Fent is a mix of their names bc I think it's cool :D).
Meanwhile, Jason and Danny have been chilling together using core fusion to keep away from the batfam and have been improving Crime Alley with Danny's inherited chaotic mad scientist gene being used to harness ectoplasm as a renewable energy since Gotham has a large quantity of it (bonus points if the ectoplasm can be re-filtered to be safely used again for power).
The GIW or another ghost could show up in Gotham to hunt down JD and the batfam accidentally get captured since a lot of them have died (I think??).
Cue a garnet-style reunion and a "stronger than you" scene before escaping and telling the rest of the batfam the truth.
Dp x BNHA
Similar to the other one, but quirks count as mini-cores and that's how people gain their powers. Quirkless people don't have cores and therefore don't have powers.
Danny could be able to fuse with the previous OFA users and just pull them out of Izuku or they could just fuse by Danny grabbing onto Izuku when using his quirk in a fight.
And I'm just imagining during one of the fights Danny grabs onto Izuku and a flash of light shoots out and once the light clears, Danny is gone and a person with three sets of arms with an appearance similar to Danny's and the other OFA users mixed into one before battling it out with the LOV.
Please let me know if anything doesn't seem like it works! And this prompt is free to use by anyone if they want to! :]
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x bnha#dcu#bnha#core fusion au#dead on main#this was a last minute thought#probably going to write more about this later#imagine a punk royal looking dude that's very tall and possibly two sets of arms and eyes and you've got JD Fent#this is inspired by steven universe#jason probably told his group about the core fusion but not the batfam just to mess with them#alfred probably knew#you can't hide anything from him#principal nezu would have a field day causing chaos with Danny's fusion shenanigans
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I've been thinking of this little yandere! LoV x Vigilante! reader scenario and it goes something along the lines of this (I'm not creative when it comes to coming up with quirks so don't judge me too hard for readers power):
Reader is a vigilante who has the quirk to charm and fluster anyone she touches, but she has to touch their bare hand in order for the ability to work. It's especially effective if she goes for the target's pulse points first, then they'll be completely whipped. Reader also has a very cheeky personality to boot so for some people it might take them a minute to realize what her quirk is.
She's not a full on villain as she does not wish to harm other people. However, she's angry with the hero society and wishes to seek out true justice in the world and wouldn't you know it, that's exactly what the League of Villains is looking for.
The members would all try scouting her out as she seems good for the cause and is good at using her ability. But Reader hates the League and wants nothing to do with it. Various situations follow as the group of misfits begin to fall for her.
Some are flustered, some might even get a kiss from Reader (hint, one of em is Dabi lmao). And you can't tell me that these suckers wouldn't eat this stuff up as most of them never felt the touch of a woman. Spinner would be a sweetheart though.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yancore#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#league of villains#leauge of villains x reader#mha#bnha x reader#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha x reader#yandere bnha x reader#yandere mha#yandere bnha#yandere league of villains#yandere lov#bnha dabi#yandere dabi#yandere dabi x reader#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#yandere shigaraki#mr compress#mr compress x reader#yandere mr compress#bnha spinner#bnha toga
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Do you think there is any way of fixing what happened in the next chapter? I don't think Horikoshi is a great writer but I don't understand how could he have flumbled so bad when the set up he wrote himself made obvious what should happen. Everybody knows that a big motif was to save the villains and then that's not what happens with the MC and main antagonist? That is kind of like insulting levels of misdirection. I'm foolishly hoping that the next chapters fixes it somehow.
I've been trying to think circles around it, because I do agree with those bloggers who say that it's WILDLY OOC for Deku and it makes them suspect it's a fakeout.
Unfortunately, I only see plausible options with this set-up along the following lines:
Tomura "awakens" the missing Overhaul reconstruction component and rebuilds himself and goes to fix his dying villain buddies. -> Great. It delivers on Tomura's goal to be a hero of the villains and maybe he can turn a new leaf with a healing quirk to try to start fixing the damage he caused. It's sort of an answer to Tomura's arc, but Deku's arc is still destroyed, because he still killed the guy for all he knows and never in any way engaged with his complaints about society. Nothing changed except AFO is dead.
Deku punched TomurAFO with Vestige Magic BS he unlocked offscreen with the exact amount of force to reconstruct Tenko's body out, save the crying boy and give him a second life -> obviously total asspull, but fandom will be happy because who is not a fan of a cute crying child, and "look we told you that Deku is the greatest". Imho, this kind of solution would basically ruin Tomura's development, disregard his progress with the LoV, and would not be good for Deku if he decided that the "crying child" gets to live and told Tomura that he's unforgivable and he needs to die because he never engaged with his villain, only with a ghost of a past that normally doesn't exist anymore and is not a feasible solution to save other people like Tenko this way.
Tomura transferred OFA back to Deku and his vestige as Tenko will live inside Deku so "he'll be a hero" -> I see people getting excited with this, but the vestiges don't "live" there with his "oba-chan". Being a ghost, being trapped inside someone else, never be able to make a decision for themselves is not a life. I don't see it as a good ending for a character who didn't experience much freedom in his entire life. I also think Deku should be rid of the vestiges - it's not healthy to have them yap in his head. If you want this kind of ending, might as well write that Tenko got to join Mon, Mom, Hana etc in heaven and is living there happily in the afterlife.
Deku has brought along Eri's horn and it being in the blast zone of OFA - AFO collision it's fractional rewind turned into a mass rewind effect and he did this in purpose and knew it was gonna work out this way and was totally gonna save everyone with it, including Tomura. And their "farewell scene" was just a clumsily written misdirect. -> OK. Got MHA trending. Editors happy.
Basically Option 1, but AFO being defeated is not the end of the fight, because the Alien Parasite that infected his mom and is the source of all quirks takes form and then the LoV come in to help defeat it. Everyone loses their quirks, no more quirk society. Tomura and Spinner start a gaming youtube channel. Deku becomes a cop.
I mean, I can sit here, come up with these wild, wild BS scenarios that "undo" Tomura's death. But I don't really see a way that salvages both Tomura's and Deku's arc and makes them both deliver on the promise of their arc. Like linkspooky wrote - Deku's entire journey is what would have mattered. Him engaging with villain stories, especially with Tomura's story, trying to empathize, trying to change the root cause. But it feels like in the end, precious little changed compared to the All Might era.
I feel like both Ochako and the Todoroki family confronted Toga and Toya more at both levels - not just at the level of the cute kid whose life went off the rails, but also at the level of the person they grew into: Ochako by offering blood to Toga and the Todorokis by wanting Toya back in his current damaged form and willing to go through hell with him (unlike Toga's folks, who immediately disowned their child). But Deku only embraced crying Tenko. He really didn't offer anything to grown-up Tomura and that's where the problem lies for me.
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You know I was really hoping there would be way more Jaune x Jessica stuff online at this point. But even if I count all the art works fanfics and everything in between, I would probably still have fingers to spare. It's just kind of disappointing.
I know, and that's sad. Let's change that a bit. This is part of the "HandHolding Stuff"
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Can I stay with you tonight?
Jessica is sitting on one of the academy balconies, watching the stars on the horizon. Suddenly Jaune appears and sits next to her.
Jaune: Hey
Jessica: Hey
Silence
Jaune: So... tomorrow is the day you return to your world, eh.
Jessica: Yeah...
Jaune: Are you excited?
Jessica: I guess...
Jaune: Are you okay? You sound down.
Jessica: Well… *sighs* It's nothing.
Jaune: *Smiles* Come on, you can tell me. I'm here for you.
Looking at Jaune smiling, Jessica feels relieved as a bit of the weight she felt has disappeared. But the pressure is still there.
Jessica: You see… I'm thinking about not going back to my world.
Jaune: *Worry* Why not? Perhaps… and excuse me for saying this… are you perhaps afraid of going back to your world?
Jessica: I am not afraid to return. In my world, I have my friends, family, and I am part of something big. But…
Jaune: But...?
She looks at Jaune with sad eyes.
Jessica: ...I don't want to get away from you.
Jaune: Jessica....
Jessica: *Looks away* I know I have to go back. I have people who count on me, but the idea of being without you… I don't like it. Jaune, I lov-
Jessica turns to see Jaune again but is surprised by a kiss. The kiss is sweet and soft, something she didn't expect to happen today, but it's welcome.
Jaune: *Soft smile* I love you too.
He puts his hand on her cheek and she touches his hand with hers. Snuggling deeper into his palm. They both smile, enjoying each other's company.
Jessica: Jaune...
Jaune: Yes?
Jessica: Can I stay with you tonight?
Moments later...
Jessica: Jaune... Aah~💕
Jaune: Jessica~
The two hold each other so tight, as if they were afraid of losing the other. Jessica moves her hips, feeling Jaune's member go in and out of her.
Jessica: You are so deep~ I love it~💕
Jaune: Fuck, you're too tight~
Jessica: *Smug* What? Are you about to cum?~ Mm~💕
Jaune: S-Shut up
Jessica: *giggles* I'm sorry, but... *whispers in his ear* ..you can cum inside of me if you want.
Jaune was triggered by those words. He took Jessica's ass with both hands, and started bouncing her in his lap.
Jessica: Oh Jaune!~💕 Fuck me just like that!~ I love it when you grab my ass!
Jaune: Jessica!~💕
Jaune is about to explode. He places his head on her neck and fucks her harder and faster.
Jessica: YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME! IT FEELS SO GOOD!
Jaune: Jessica, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!~
Jessica: I'M ABOUT TO CUM TOO, LET'S DO IT TOGETHER!~💕
Jaune: JESSICA!
Jessica: JAUNE!~💕
A wave of pleasure ran thought Jessica's entire body. Her muscles tensed, and her back arched as Jaune shot his load deep inside her. She can only feel so much cum gushing out of her pussy as she dig deep her nails on Jaune's back. Ecstasy filled their minds and completely distract them from everything around them at that very moment. After a while, they take a breather and talk.
Jaune: That was…
Jessica: ...amazing~
The two laugh for a second, and look at each other with loving eyes and in silence. Until one of them spoke.
Jaune: I love you Jessica.
Jessica: I love you too, Jaune.
The rest of the night the two of them spent cuddling while they slept. Feeling each other's warmth for the last time. The next day the two lovers said goodbye, hoping to see each other again.
#jaune arc#jaune#rwby jaune arc#rwby jaune#Jessica cruz#rwby#handholding stuff#DC#Knightlight#jaune x jessica#jaune arc x jessica cruz#rwby jaune arc x jessica cruz#rwby jaune x jessica#rwby knightlight
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Ooh can I request how you think kid and killer would show their interest in you? Basically their way of courting you/beginning of a relationship. Together or separate, whatever you feel like 🖤🖤
hi anon, thanks for the ask! i'd be happy to do both :)
im a big fan of the concept of courting in general (to many period drama influences) so some of these may seem weird or ooc
kidd-
different from killer, who would take a more traditional approach to courting/wooing a potential partner, kidd's approach is more... chaotic... we'll say
we all know that this tulip head has the emotional range of a teaspoon, and therefore struggles with expressing any emotion other than rage and pride, so be prepared for a whirlwind of whiplash
he doesn't know what he wants, you don't know what he wants
killer knows what he wants, but won't be at all helpful in this case
while he will staunchly deny this until the day he dies, kidd's love language is acts of service (beating the shit out of people for you), gift giving (making you things to beat the shit out of people) and quality time (discussing in depth on how to beat the shit out of people)
expect a lot of shiny things, handmade metal contraptions, and requests for you to just sit with him (he tells you he needs someone to hold something for him, or shine the light at a particular angle, but we all know he just wants to be around you)
he fails miserably at any attempts of flirtation
the first time you cackle at him for his terrible pick-up lines, he shuts himself away for a few days. the second time, (with killer's guidance) he realizes that making you laugh would be great way to warm up to each other.
it becomes a witty back-and-forth of banter and cheesy pick-up lines, and a solid friendship is formed. you talk about whatever, he gives his (sadistic) input, he rambles on about his latest invention (probably a weapon) and you give your feedback
you don't know that each of these conversations are pertaining to the same creation, he's (very secretly, and quite skillfully (to killer's surprise)) getting your input, because he's making it for you.
it's months in the making, he probably started right after your first lengthy discussion about preferred weapon types or something like that.
i'd like to think that for kidd, it's obsession at first insult with him, so you'd probably be relatively new to the crew. he wouldn't last long enough to have known (and liked you) for years, no patience with dis man
he gets talkative when he drinks, so i guarantee you the first time he gets like black out drunk around you, he spills his guts. its an unspoked rule amongst the crew, that any 'gushy' feelings that come from that captain while he is inebriated, are not to ever EVER be brought up afterwards.
so you kind of just. sit there. thinking abt the fact that this angry tulip man like you. and wont admit it to your face.
after the first emotional moment TM you guys share, things start to pick up. you are witness to a softer side of the one-dimensional captain, and quite like it.
start seeking those out more. he won't, but the best progress is one made in emotional vulnerability. (dr. wimble advice corner approved)
he cant take a hint, so dont bother dropping any. if you wanna go forward, say something. kidd cannot read (alegedly), let alone between the lines. your best bet is to whip out your tits (gn) in front of him.
i will die on this hill, kidd is firmly a boob guy, dont try to change my mind. he lov em
there is no "so, should we date now?" phase with this guy, he just skips right to the "fucking them with the lights on" phase. a hot and heavy encounter later, and he has firmly planted himself at your side, no takes-backsies~~
you wake up the morning after hovered in hickeys and bite marks, and EVERYONE know your his now. he wont say it, but you are.
killer-
killer on the other hand, is a traditionalist, an 'el hopaness romtic' if ya know what im sayin
he will woo the pants right off you, season two anthony bridgerton wet shirt scene style (iykyk)
you probably aren't new to the crew, kil strikes me as the kinda guy who doesn't know he likes someone until it's too late. like man's good at self reflection and all, but it takes TIME to get to him, so there is no 'love at first fisticuffs' with him.
it starts with friendship (demi killer till the day i die), you two are like each others bestfriends. no one tops kidd (ehehe) for this guy, but you can tie
it's the little things at first, and more one-sided at the beginning (on your end), like complimenting his cooking, offering to help with dishes
maybe you buy him some hair stuff, he did mention that he was running out, off handedly. or, you sharpen up his knives for him while he's away
Killer's love language is also acts of service, more so on the receiving end tho, but he likes to give gifts. he'll cook for you, personally
like one meal just for you type thing. he says he wants you to try out a new recipe of his, but really, he just made you a nice meal, and cant say it to your face.
you two act like a couple already, but both deny it, saying youre just 'really good friends'
he first really realises that he likes you, seriously likes (maybe love) you when you get injured. and not like, oh little scratch, but like, almost died injured.
a foe has never been downed faster, than when killer heard your scream of pain and terror from across the battle field, and fucking flew across to get to you.
it's obvious to anyone that mans got it badd. he doesnt leave your side until youre concious again and the promptly blows up you for being dumb and reckless and almost getting killed. its a nasty fight, one that shatters your friendship. no one expected anything like that from him. probably the most anyone has ever heard from him in one go
he is just worried, but cant tell you that he loves you, without fully knowing how you feel back. not a guy who readily takes risks like that.
it's a few weeks before he's talking to you again, afraid that he astronomically fudged it by his little outburst. the exchanges are clipped, (you, who had been pining hard for him for like ever) and you're positively sure he hates your guts (he doesnt he just scared)
he avoids you, trying to put as much distance between you two as physically possible, trying to get rid of his feelings for you. but the you go and get yourself hurt. again
it was an accident this time, he saw it happen. like slow motion, the knife you were holding was bumped out of your hand by someone backing into you, it fell, cutting your hand open, before notching itself into the flood
he blows up at the person responsible, before dragging you to the medbay to patch you up. all the while, muttering about how clumsy you are, how much of a danger magnet you seem to be.
its at that moment you know how he feels. it's not said outright, but the care he takes with you, treating you like you're glass
you lean down to kiss his mask. just a small pec, an utterance of a 'thank you' whispered after
but
his heart is beating like a wild mustang, and he freezes. he makes sure your affection wasn't just because you were grateful (after he starts working again)
your reassurance is like cupids arrow for his heart. you like him, have liked him for a while
nothing really changes between your dynamic after that, at least from the outside. really, you've started to be more physically affectionate behind closed doors.
it's a huge step when he takes his mask of around you. the lights are off, and you can't see his face, but he lets you touch it. huge step in your relationship
he's still a baddie, violent and unhinged, (to keep up appearances), but when no ones looking, he'll love on you
this feels kinda rushed ngl, but alas, when is it not? anywayz anon, hope you like it! iv'e already done poly! kidkiller here, i hope you enjoy :)
btw my requests are open, but im still in college, so be mindful if it takes me a hot minute to reply to them
#wimble writes#one piece scenario#killer x reader#kid x reader#one piece fluff#massacre soldier killer#eustass kid
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This came to me and I don't know where I want it to go. I had to post it somewhere, hopefully to get some feedback.
"You're right. Nobody will mourn me when I burn in, but that's because I've had nobody for the past 15 years. When I made the decision I did, I lost everyone. I kept a promise and in return I was left, again. Story of my life, right?"
Maverick shook his head, ridding himself of the voices starting to overtake his mind, and turned to leave the room.
Before walking out the door he stopped and said "you got everything you wanted, everyone you wanted, and yet you still hate me."
*****
Bradley was standing there, the anger still coursing through him, when Warlock came into the room.
"He's right, you know."
Rooster sighed and asked "about what?"
"For the past 15 years he's been alone. He made a decision that affected your life of course, but in doing so he effectively ruined his as well."
"How? He was still in the Navy. He was still an aviator. He still went all over the world. I was set back four years. I was stopped from doing what I'd always dreamed of doing. Yeah, I'm here now, but behind where I should be."
Warlock just stared at him, displeasure visible only to those who knew where to look for it.
"Of course, you got here. You got here with so many people backing you up. You got here with a handful of uncles willing to do anything for you. You got here with someone standing firmly in your corner, ready to fight any and all demons that came for you."
"What's your point, sir?" Frustration slipping into his voice.
"While you had all of them at your back, who did he have? The minute it became known what he had done everyone turned on him. Those who had been there through the worst of it, just left. Those who knew him better than anyone, knew he had serious abandonment issues, just turned their backs on him."
"That's not my problem."
"Of course it's not. You had people there for you; you had everyone. He's had no one in his corner for the past 15 years. Every accomplishment, every nightmare, every heartache. He's been alone. Every time he's been injured and in the hospital, he's been alone. Every near miss, he's been alone. All those times he should have had family in his corner, helping to show him there was more to his life than flying, that he was worth more than his injuries, he was alone."
Rooster didn't have anything to say.
"Every trip to the hospital he was asked if he had family or someone they could call for him, he said no. There was no one that needed to be bothered, no one would would care and come anyways. I think after his first hospital visit after everything, he just stopped trying."
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
"Five weeks after everything he was hit by a drunk driver on base. I happened to be at the hospital when they brought him in and heard them ask for numbers to call someone for him. He said he'd call from his cellphone, which surprisingly enough has t been damaged." Warlock narrowed his eyes at Rooster and he instantly knew what was coming. "He tried calling a handful of numbers to call and no one answered. He sent a couple texts and the same thing happened. I called Ice, just to see if he was busy and he answered right away, asking if everything was good. Mav saw he picked up after two rings, and after that he just stopped."
"I…. didn't….but…..why…"
"Why what? Why did he call? Why didn't he keep calling? Why didn't I say anything?"
"He could have called anyone, any of them would have been there for him."
Warlock shook his head. "But they weren't. They weren't because they were so firmly on your side because of all of your hurt, they forgot he had no one on his side. Not one of them was there for him then and since, and he doesn't expect anyone to be there for him now."
Warlock turned to leave and before walking out the door levyed this final shot at the younger man.
"I've been his NOK and POA for 15 years. I've been there, and I know he appreciates it, but the ones he loved and would do anything for, where were they? He would give up his life for his friends, for his family, but where were they? He kept a promise. He did something he knew would tear up one relationship. He did it knowing that nothing would ever be the same. But to be cut off for your entire support system, at the whims and whines of a teenager whom he loved more than life itself, that was a blow. He never thought those who loved him and cared about him and knew him, would do what was done. But they did, because of you."
#Iceman#Maverick#ice#mav#icemav#top gun#top gun maverick#tg#tgm#warlock#Bradley Bradshaw#bradley#rooster#thomas Kazansky#pete Mitchell#ao3#archive of our own#top gun one shot#relationship#family#not cannon compliant#need a beta
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Hello Darkness ~ Chapter 12
… Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13 (coming soon)...
A/N: GUUUYYYSSS, I'M GOING TO THE ERAS TOUR!! I'm so freaking happy and excited that my creativity just bombarded me, and it didn't give a damn that I was supposed to write and article instead of this HUEHEUEE. I can't believe I'm going to see TAYLOR FREAKING SWIFT!!!! I also bought the VIP tickets so I could be really close to her huehuehue I'm so excited!!
I normally write so much angst, but I'm so happy that I couldn't help but writing the fluffiest fluff. Seriously, this is tooth rotting sweet, super adorable. If you know anyone who loves fluff tell them to read this chap as a standalone (if they don't read the fic already), cause this is seriously the best fluff piece I've ever written.
Anyway, happy reading!
Summary: You were happy with Wanda until you found Vision on her bed. You loved her, though, you would have forgiven her eventually, but Natasha couldn’t let you throw away your chance at true happiness like that. So she took matters into her own hands.
Warnings: Cheating, Kidnapping, Gaslighting, non-con sex, non-con drug use, non-con alcohol consumption, Stockholm syndrome, soft!dark!Natasha, synthetic cock, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, praising kink, little bit of mommy kink… I think that’s it, lmk if I need to add more. MINORS DNI. You have been warned.
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 5000 +/-
You left Tony’s lab feeling no different from when you entered, the smirk on his face telling you just how much he supported your decision. Well, of course he did, he was the one to develop the tech and attach it to you.
He was your best friend beside Natasha, and he knew this decision was going to make you happy, so he did it for you.
As you walked towards your room you took notice of everything in the tower. You were going to miss this place, you were going to miss your team. Tony and Loki were the only ones who knew about your early retirement, they made sure you’d have everything you needed in your new home, a home that Natasha bought and refused to tell you the location, she said it was going to be a surprise; you trusted her, and you knew you’d love whatever she came up with.
You opened the door to your room, Yelena was on Natasha’s lap, your fiancée sitting on the bed playing with your daughter. Neither had noticed you there.
“Come on, Malenky, say Mama,” Natasha said, playing with Lena’s hands as the child giggled madly.
“Ma!” Yelena practically yelled out, bouncing animatedly on Nat’s lap.
“Yes, yes my love, I’m your ma, but I want you to say mama” Nat repeated, her smile growing more and more “Your other mother needs some lovin’ too, you know.”
You felt tears pooling in your eyes, your heart swelling in your chest. If you could relive this moment again, and again and again, you’d do so. Natasha was such a wonderful mother, you couldn’t even comprehend what she must’ve gone through in the Red Room for them to make her think she was unfit for motherhood.
“Mmmmma!” Yelena yelled again, giggling right after.
Natasha threw her head back and laughed too, her smile going from ear to ear, her eyes shining against the light that came from the window. She shook her head then and tickled Yelena “Say mama!” she said.
"Ma!" Yelena said, almost as if she was teasing Natasha.
"I think she's messing with you, Nat," you said, making your presence known.
You walked further into the room; upon seeing you Natasha's smile became a beaming one, a shining beacon of happiness, just like Lena's. You didn't know how to process the hurting in your chest. The two people you loved the most were clearly ecstatic to see you, and that alone made you feel so happy, so fulfilled, that you felt your heart almost bursting out of your chest. It hurt, but it was the best thing you've ever felt.
"She is," Natasha confirmed, looking between you and Lena with what you could only describe as heart eyes. "She just loves messing with her ma."
You hummed and climbed the bed, kneeling beside your woman and your baby, leaning in to kiss Natasha.
"Must've gotten it from you," Nat added as you were just a breath away, your lips ghosting hers, her eyes full of mirth.
"Me?!" You said, putting your hand dramatically over your chest as you drew away.
Yelena laughed along with Natasha and you narrowed your eyes.
"Ohh, so you two are ganging up on me now, are you?" You said, crossing your arms, fighting off your own fit of laughter. You cracked your knuckles then, and an exaggerated evil smile crossed your face. "Well, I guess I'll have to deal with this the hard way, then."
You started wiggling your fingers as you drew close again, Natasha tried backing away but her back hit the headboard, Yelena was laughing hysterically even though you hadn't touched her yet.
"No! Please, please, spare us, oh all-powerful mama!" Your Natalia said between barely concealed puffs of laughter, drawing her knees up to try and protect Lena from your wrath.
"You must face your punishment, troublesome duo," you said, still wiggling your fingers, getting ready to pounce on your prey "So prepare for the… tickle attack!"
You dove in.
"Nooooo, mamaaaaa!" Yelena practically yelled between fits of laughter.
Your fingers danced across their bodies. Yelena was especially ticklish on her neck, while your beautiful Natalia couldn't hold it in when you tickled her waistline.
While Lena curved herself into a little ball to try and stop your attack, Natasha practically pinned her arms to her side in a futile attempt to keep you from her waist.
"Do you apologize for ganging up on me?" You asked imperiously, drawing away to think of a way to get the both of them without using your powers.
"Never!" Natasha yelled back, holding in her laughter.
“Oh, really?” you asked, drawing closer again, your arm sneaking around Nat. She nodded, biting her lip while fighting off a smile.
You managed to get your fingers under her arm, tickling her waist with one hand as the other wiggled around Lena’s head to get to the back of her neck, tickling her there. Yelena squealed and trashed around while Natasha tried wiggling away from your hand.
“Ok! Ok! We give up!” your redhead yelled between fits of laughter.
“What do you say, then?” you asked with a huge smile on your face.
“We’re sorry…” she said with a slight pout.
“Owy mama,” Yelena said, her pout a perfect mirror of Natasha’s.
You felt your hands twitching with the desire to squish the both of them, they were entirely too cute for their own good.
"You better be, otherwise I'll tickle you more, you two hear me?" You said, crossing your arms and looking at them through narrowed eyes.
Natasha nodded with a smile on her face, while Yelena threw her hands up and yelled "Yes!"
You laughed out loud and pulled them to you, giving Yelena's cheeks lots of little kisses, then delicately kissing Natasha's nose before resting your forehead against hers.
"Thank you for this, my love," you said, one of your hands caressing her face, "thank you for giving me our little angel, thank you for giving me your heart."
Natasha brushed her nose against yours, one of her hands coming up to rest above yours, "you should know by now that I'd do anything for you."
~
"Are you sure you don't want to tell anyone else you're leaving?" Tony asked as the last of your luggage got carried to the car.
You smiled up at him, if there was one thing you'd surely miss about this place that would be Tony. Yeah, he's a dick sometimes, and he can be really inconvenient when he wants to be, but he's also one of the funniest people you've ever met, and despite his attempts at hiding it, he's one of the most caring people in the whole wide world.
"Yeah," you answered with a little eye roll, "don't want anyone throwing a fit or meddling in my business. I mean, I'm moving out on the same day as Natasha, they're bound to find out about us."
"And by anyone you mean the wicked witch of the west," Tony teased with a smirk "Why not move on a different day, then? Natasha could go first and then-"
"I'mma stop you right there, Tin-man. I'm not going to leave my woman and my child alone. Also, even if we did move on different days, it'd still be pretty obvious." You said, shaking your head a little, "I mean, we've been living here since forever and neither of us ever said anything about moving, and then suddenly we move out within a couple of days from each other? Everyone would know that's bullshit."
"Yeah, yeah," Tony sighed, "guess I just wanted you to stay a bit more."
You patted his arm and hugged him "We won't be too far, at least that's what Nat said." You chuckled and pulled away, squeezing his arm once more "Besides, I expect you to be visiting quite often. Your goddaughter's gotta be well acquainted with her godfather."
Tony laughed at that and moved his eyes to Lena, who was currently playing with a lock of Natasha's hair while your fianceée said her goodbyes to Loki.
You caught yourself wishing, not for the first time, that your eyes could take pictures. The way the sun illuminated Natasha's hair was magical, the way she tilted her hip slightly to accommodate Lena better, the way your daughter smiled brightly as she played with her mother's hair, you wished you could carry that image with you for the rest of your life.
"I'm really happy for you, you know. She's amazing, she lights up a room," Tony said with a fond smile on his face "and she has this captivating smile. That smile she got from you, it has your toothy grin written all over it. It's amazing how she looks like you, but also like Natasha."
You beamed at him, his eyes shone with love, but also with longing, and that made you realize… "You're thinking about having one, aren't you?" You asked gently, putting your hand on his shoulder.
Tony sighed once more" Yeah. Think that's crazy?"
"No way," you said "I know for a fact you're gonna be a great dad. And Pepper an amazing mom."
Tony's smile came back, and he patted your back a couple times. "I'm gonna miss you, Blue," he said and you used your light blue magic to poke his nose.
"I'mma miss you too, Tin-man." You said then, taking a couple steps towards the car, where Natasha and Yelena were already waiting.
"We're gonna visit soon!" Tony yelled out as you entered the car.
"Maybe sooner than you think!" Loki said.
"We're counting on it!" You and Nat said in unison as she turned the ignition on. You looked at your friends and smiled once more "Don't kill yourselves, you two, and don't do anything I wouldn't!"
You drove away.
~
"Did Loki tell you that he expects Lena to be taught the art of deceiving?" You asked Nat as you took in the scenery.
You knew this part of the city well, it wasn't far from the compound at all, and it was pretty close to where your family lived.
"Yes, he said there's no one better than me to teach her," Nat answered with a smile on her face. "Did he tell you that since he doesn't intend on having children, he's gonna name Lena as his heiress to the throne?"
You turned to her, her smile had turned into a smirk.
"You're messing with me." You said, shaking your head, your eyes going to the rearview mirror to take a look at Yelena.
"I'm actually not. Not this time." Nat said, taking one of her hands off the steering wheel to interlace her fingers with yours.
"But isn't Thor the next in line?" You asked with furrowed eyebrows.
"Yes, but he doesn't have any children either, so if anything ever happens to him Loki will be the king."
"... And Yelena a fucking princess." You sigh in a mix of fondness and disbelief "My daughter, a literal princess. Holy fuck."
"Well, you are the queen of my heart, so…"
It was only because your daughter had her eyes on the both of you that you didn't make Natasha stop that car so you could fuck her into oblivion.
Your heart swelled hearing those words. You knew no words were ever necessary to show you how much your Natalia loved you, she had proven it over and over again, but still, you felt so validated, so cared for whenever she said those things. You could only hope to replicate that feeling in her chest.
"Our queendom is mutual then because you're the queen of my heart, body, and soul." You said with one hand over your chest.
Natasha raised a single eyebrow, and her smirk grew bigger "Did you just quote Taylor Swift at me?"
You smiled and fluttered your lashes at her. She laughed out loud and squeezed your hand.
"You're lucky you're so cute." She muttered, regaining her neutral expression, though you could see her fighting off a smile.
"I can't help it, it's like she takes a peek into our lives before writing those songs!" You defended yourself.
"Ake it off, ake it off!" Yelena sang, making you and Nat burst out laughing.
"See, even Lena agrees!" You said, still laughing.
"Ok, ok, I'll have to relent this time," Nat said, and you brought her hand, still intertwined with yours, to your lips, making her smirk once again.
"Well, since you're in a relenting mood, could you relent and tell me where our home will be?" You asked, batting your eyelashes once more.
"Geez, five minutes, detka, five more minutes." She chuckled and shook her head.
"You've been saying five more minutes for fifteen minutes now." You said, pouting.
Natasha didn't say anything back, she just kept that damned smirk on her face. You could tell she was excited, the way her finger tapped the wheel gave her away.
You knew Natasha Romanoff enough to know that she had spent a lot of time searching for the perfect house, and you knew as well that you would love whatever she chose because, one, she certainly had you in mind while doing so, and two, your home was with her, no matter where you lived in.
As she drove, you kept stealing glances at her, your curiosity growing more and more by the minute. "Not even a little hint?" You asked then.
Natasha laughed at that, shook her head, and said, "Calm down, detka, it's a surprise. Just wait and see, we'll be there soon enough."
"Where ma?" Yelena's voice popped up, making you laugh out loud.
"See! Even our kid's curious!" You accused, pointing a finger at Lena.
"Rious!" Yelena yelled out, making you laugh once again.
"Now who's ganging up on who?!" Natasha said, smiling from ear to ear.
You opened your mouth to reply, but Natasha took a turn, and then another, and you found yourself in an area you knew quite well. As you got deeper and deeper into the neighborhood, Nat turned down a quiet street lined with trees. You remembered playing with your siblings not too far from there.
And then Nat pulled up. You gasped in surprise, your heart swelling once more with overwhelming love for this beautiful woman you could call your own. It was a beautiful three-story home, it had a modern layout and you could clearly see how it was brimming with technology. But more than that, it was only a couple blocks away from your parent's house.
"Holy shit, Natasha," you exclaimed, completely forgetting for a moment you shouldn't curse near your very intelligent child "This is perfect!"
You unbuckled your seatbelt and practically jumped from the car, your eyes roamed the area, seeing a huge space for a garden, an enormous garage, a pool in the back as well as a weirdly technological shack.
Natasha took Yelena and got out after you, her eyes shining with what could be only described as pride. "I knew you'd love it," she said, setting Yelena down so the kid could run through the space where the garden would be. "And the best part is the location. We're just a short walk to your parents' house, but the Avengers Tower isn't far either." She said, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. "When I took you to my cabin, you told me you missed our friends and your family. This house allows us to be close enough to both."
You turned around in Natasha's embrace, your eyes meeting hers, and as you tried to speak it was as if your voice didn't want to cooperate, you were too emotional, so you only managed to whisper. "I can't believe you did all of this for me. For us."
"Your happiness is my reason for living. I'd do anything to see you smile like that." She said, her eyes looking right at your soul, she cupped your face, caressing your cheek with one hand. "Detka, I love you more than words can say, more than the sun that lights my day, more than the air that fills my lungs. I love you more than life itself. I hope you know that by now."
You nodded, your eyes filling with unshed tears. "I know," you said, kissing her palm "and I love you just as much. You're the one I live for, my everything, my reason to be."
You touched your forehead against hers, your hand caressing her face just as she had done to you.
"Mamaaaa! Look, toys!" You heard Yelena giggle, making you laugh and pull away from your love.
Your heart never felt so full.
~
It was late in the evening when Yelena finally fell asleep in her own room, you and Nat tucked her in and kissed her forehead, and then she was out like a light.
The moment the door to your kid's room closed, you pushed Natasha against the wall and kissed her. Natasha's hands started traveling your body, but you stopped her as you pulled her with you towards the stairs. You'd go to the first floor, the farthest from Yelena's room, so you could properly christen the house.
As soon as you got to the first floor, Nat pulled you to the kitchen and pushed you against the counters. She kissed your neck and rolled up your camisole so she could feel the curve of your ass. You couldn't help but grind back against her, making her let out a little moan.
"Y/N, my love, you always feel so fucking good," she said low against your ear. You arched against her, shivering a little. Nat's eyes were dark with lust. It drove you wild seeing how crazy you could make her.
"Fuck, Natty" you breathe out.
Natasha squeezed your ass then, unable to keep her hands off of you. "Why are we still wearing clothes, Detka?"
You pulled away with an impish smile on your face. "In the kitchen?" you asked, then, biting your lip. "Really? You know I'm gonna have to bleach everything when we're done, right?" You teased, inching in and pulling her lower lip between your teeth.
"Tell you what, Kotenok, I'll bleach it down myself if you let me bend you right here and right now," she said with a teasing smile, her lips brushing yours.
You pulled away a little and tilted your head a bit to the side, your eyes glowing slightly blue. “What if I want you to bend over for me, Natty baby?” you said as you inched closer again, slipping your hand into her lacy underwear and toying with her lower lips.
"Fuck, Detka," she sighed, bucking her hips against your hand.
Your hand went to her clit, massaging it in slow circles as your forehead came to rest against hers. “I have a little something for you,” you whispered.
The moment your hands left her Natasha let out a little whimper, making your body tremble with desire. You grabbed her shoulders and turned your positions, pinning her to the counter and pressing the little Black Widow insignia on your own body.
The telltale sound you two came to know so well echoed through the kitchen, but this time it didn’t come from her. Natasha’s eyes widened at the realization, your eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitancy. You only found a bit of confusion.
“I asked Tony for it,” you said before she could say anything, your hands tightening on her waist “I wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
You didn’t wait for her answer, you claimed her mouth with yours once again, your hands exploring her pussy once more. Nat only moaned and buckled against you, pulling you closer by the collar of your camisole.
You lifted her up the counter, her legs automatically wrapping around your waist. Her nipples showed through the shirt she was wearing, your shirt. One of your hands moved to rub over the little nub and Nat arched her back, offering herself up to you in a silver platter.
You kissed her neck down to her collarbone, her scent was intoxicating. Nat clung to you, her arms pulling you impossibly closer as a shivery groan left her mouth. You angled your fingers to rub in the exact way you knew she liked, and pleasure ran through you at the sight of her squirming. Her hips ground against you, the smell of her arousal permeating the room as she rubbed against your hand to the beat of her uneven breaths. Her legs began to shake, wrapping around your waist and gripping you to the point it’d leave bruises. You didn’t care, though, you always thought that dying between her legs would be the best way to go.
“Yes, right there Detka, you’re being so good to me, such a good girl,” she moaned, hips still grinding against your hand.
You groaned and bit your lip “Fuck, Nat, you’re so hot, so fucking hot”.
Her hands twisted the fabric of your camisole so tight it almost rip apart, she had this pleased expression on her face, and you could feel yourself getting more and more aroused just by looking at her.
The more you rubber her clit the tighter her legs wrapped around you, drawing you closer and closer. The handle of the cabinet dug into your tight, but you couldn't really feel it, your attention solely on the redhead squirming against you.
Natasha always looked beautiful; in all the years you’ve known her there wasn’t a single stance where she looked anything less than perfect. Even when bloodied and bruised, even when crying and shouting, your Natalia was the most beautiful sight you have ever laid eyes upon, and yet this was one of her most beautiful facets. The bliss on her face, the slight flush to her cheeks, the silver of forest green in her darkened eyes; it was heaven. She was heaven.
You couldn't take it anymore, you withdrew your hand and ripped her underwear, making her practically growl. The sound soon turned into a sigh when she felt your cock rubbing against her lower lips, and you had to fight off this loud, loud moan you knew could wake your child. You don’t know what exactly Tony did, you didn’t know if this was how an actual man’s cock felt, but the feeling was mind-blowing.
You bucked your hips against hers, your cock grinding against her soaking wet pussy as she let out a wanton, needy sound, rocking her hips right back, clad in nothing more than an oversized shirt of yours.
“So eager, my love,” you panted against her mouth “You want my cock, Natty, is that what you want?”
Natasha’s hands gripped your camisole tighter still, ripping it as she, too, panted against your mouth, nodding almost desperately.
You shook your head and bit your lip. “I want you to answer me, baby. Do you want my cock?”
“Fuck, fuck, yes, Y/N! Yes, I want your cock, goddamn it!” she practically screamed.
You smirked, one of your hands making its way to the back of her head, gripping her hair tightly in a fist. “Where do you want it?” you asked.
Natasha growled this time, and her nails dug into the skin of your back where the fabric had ripped. “Y/N, if you don’t shove your big, fat cock in my pussy right this second I swear to god I’m gonna handcuff you to bed and ride you all night long without letting you cum.”
You shivered. It would be torture, but it would also be bliss. You didn’t know if she was trying to persuade you or dissuade you. You didn’t want to know.
You pushed in.
“Oh my god, oh fuck!” She shivered as you entered her. It was bliss, it was pure bliss. You buried your face against her neck and bit on that sweet spot of hers, making her tighten around you. “Fuck, detka, you feel so good inside me, so good for your mommy!”
“Mommy, mommy,” you mumbled between each thrust, feeling her walls around your cock as if it was actually a part of you. Natasha was tight, so fucking tight and so wet and warm, and, god, you could stay inside of her forever “I wanna make you feel good,” you kept mumbling “I wanna make you feel so fucking good, make you cum on my cock so hard, fuck, I love you, I love you so much.”
"Oh god, Detka, please, please, go deeper,” she groaned and gripped your shoulders tightly. And who were you to deny the love of your life?
You pulled out until only the tip of your cock was inside of her, and using your magic you made it even bigger before thrusting back in again, going deeper and harder than before.
Natasha's eyes widened, she gasped your name again and again as you fucked her silly, as you lost yourself in her.
Fuck, how could she feel so good? She was so tight and warm around you, so much so that every time you pulled back you felt the absence of her. You could spend days with your cock buried inside her tight pussy; you could even see yourself chilling on the sofa, watching a movie as she cockwarmed you. God, that would be heaven.
You were so lost in her, drowning so deliciously in the pleasure she was giving you that you barely paid attention to the murmured praises you were muttering in her ear.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, my Natalia, so ethereal. God, do you know what you do to me?" You muttered, feeling her walls tighten up around you, hearing the needy whine that left her lips. "You’re my whole world, my universe, my everything… So pretty, so beautiful, so perfect… Fuck, you feel so fucking good around me, Mommy, so hot and tight… Never wanna stop, wanna keep fucking you forever… ”
Natasha was moaning and panting like you'd never seen her do before. She was always so controlled, moaning only the dirtiest praises, groaning only at low volume, but now she was singing her pleasure with abandon, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Looking at her like that, so free, so blissed out, it hit you once again how much you loved this woman. She really was your everything, you would shatter without her.
Natasha pulled you even closer and tucked her head into that sweet spot on your neck. And then she bit down, hard. You groaned and rutted harder into her as she held you close, keeping her head in your neck almost possessively.
You moaned loudly as you felt her licking the bite, your hand making its way to her breast, where you twisted her nipple in retaliation, your hips working harder and faster as you pounded into her with abandon.
“Yes, fuck, Detka," Natasha pleaded, whorish moans leaving her mouth, "keep fucking me just like that. Fuck, that’s so deep. You're so good to your mommy, baby, fucking me so hard,” she was gasping, her breathing ragged, and you could feel her pussy pulsing around you.
She dragged her nails down your back, ripping your camisole even more.
You put your hands on her stomach, under the shirt.
She tightened around you even more, driving you beyond whatever notion of pleasure you could convince.
You opened your mouth to say something, but the moment you tried to speak, she kissed you hard enough to make you see stars.
And then she was shuddering, squirting all over the counter, tightening so much around you that you couldn't help but explode.
Your hands glowed blue over her stomach.
Your come filled her entirely.
She sagged against you.
"Hey, Natty baby," you said then after catching your breath, your glowing hands retreating from her stomach as you placed them under her tights to pick her up. "How're you feeling? Are you ok? Do you need anything?"
She raised her head to look you in the eyes, her forest green orbs filled with adoration “I don’t feel my legs but… god that was so fucking good, Y/N.” she groaned, lowering her head on your chest once again as you placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Fucking good is an understatement. I think you officially broke me. I won't be able to ever have sex again without wanting to make you squirt.” You joked, walking towards the sofa and gently laying Natasha down.
With a single wave of your hand, a warm damp cloth appeared right in front of you. You took it and delicately wiped Natasha clean, caressing and massaging her body as you went.
Natasha's hands cupped your cheeks, and there was so much love in her eyes you felt like your whole life led you right to that moment.
“I really want to marry you, you know?” she asks, stretching her legs with a dopey, lovesick smile on her face.
With another wave of your hand your clothes were fixed, covering your bodies as if they were never tattered.
After making sure your camisole was right, you leaned over her and brushed your nose against hers.
"I know," you whispered, "I really wanna marry you, too. You know that, right?"
You picked her up once again, cradling her lovingly in your arms as you walked her to your new room in your new home.
“Yeah, I know.”
She wrapped her arms around your neck, tucking her face in your neck and cuddling you while you stroke her hair.
It didn't matter if this started out wrong, Natasha more than made up for it by now. And with this place, you felt like it was all coming together. Like this was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for the three of you in your beautiful new home.
You hoped nothing would perturb this peaceful serenity you found.
You would hate to have to paint your hands red again.
But you would rejoice in the suffering of whoever dared to break your bubble.
If it was the last thing you do.
Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous
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Sugar Doesn't Rot
. Shinso x GN!Reader
Reader is kidnapped and Shinso saves them
Hello! This was a request from one of you beautiful people! I hope you like it 💫
Warning: Mention of blood, bruises
Anyone who didn't know you would probably be concerned about how much sugar you ingested. Hell, Shinso once saw you open three sugar packets and pour them straight into your mouth, watching how your body shivered in likely disgust. It was like a daily vitamin for you. You had your healthy everyday gummies, some Vitamin D, allergy pill, whatever else, and then at least three sugar packets. Not counting the ones you'd ingest later before training, or in the middle of training.
Your quirk allowed you unbelievable speed, but at the cost of sugar or really the glucose produced (I don't know biology please don't kill me if this doesn't make sense). You could run almost a mile in your first UA years, close to topping Lida's best speed. That was until you inevitably crashed. Body collapsing into a tired delirious state. In one instance going cold, and becoming lightheaded- your sugar level had dropped too fast for you to even notice and stop.
●○●○●○●○●○●
“ Hero Photo at your service!'' Your hero name, to your absolute corny pleasure, was short for photosynthesis. A joke about how your body turned the sugar into liquid fuel like a plant— Shinso smiled lightly when you told him the reason why you chose such a name. “I don't want some poor parents having to worry about their toddler downing sugar packets because they see a hero do it. So, let's just make them think I get my energy from the sun!”
“Ironic considering the amount of vitamin D I see you take.”
“Oh shut it Shinso!”
●○●○●○●○●○●
Shinso smiled warmly at you from across the table. The warmth of the morning light on you causing an ethereal glow as you pour what you had believed to be sugar into your hot coffee. But the twisted look on your face and splash of coughing told him otherwise. A wicked smirk playing on his lip, “Salt?”
“Shut it!”
●○●○●○●○●○●
Curled up with him under a blanket, your face puzzled as you stared at the half-completed sudoku puzzle. Shinso watched you with a lazy smile as you filled in more squares. It was one of the hardest puzzles in the book. He'd need to get you another one, maybe as a gift? Your birthday was too far away and he wanted to get you one of the stupidly hard wooden 3D puzzles he saw on YouTube. He remembers the stars in your eyes as you watched the man struggle to open it.
●○●○●○●○●○●
“Go in around the back. Denki along with Uraraka takes the left flank. Uraraka you'll lift the metal materials in the air and ensure they don't touch you or any civilians. Denki, try and channel your spark to hit the metal scraps as a conductor. While that goes on-” Shinso watched from the back of the room as you schooled the loud, irritating Bakugou on his battle plan.
●○●○●○●○●○●
“What?”
“They were taken, not sure by who, likely (Enter Villians, maybe Lov? Up to you).”
“When.”
“Three days ago”
Shinso was silent, Aizawa watching him, his fingers twitching as he waited for his student to crack. “Why wait so long to tell me?” It wasn't a fair question and Shinso knew that. While sections of people knew you were an item, larger ones didn't. And there wasn't a reason to tell him of your disappearance, he was only a student.
“Their quirk, we know you know more about it.” Aizawa scuffled lightly, regardless of your ranking, you were still a student and a child no less. How did they not know more about your quirk? Or did they not care to learn about you?
“We know they use sunlight-”
“No” Shinsos voice was strained, anger washing through him. “Their quirk evolves around sugar”
●○●○●○●○●○●
You rested, eyes closed in the darkness of the room. Pitch dark, not even possible to see your body that rested tied in the chair. Your body felt stiff and sore, bruises forming on your pale cheeks and ribs from the beatings. No, the lack of light didn't affect your quirk, your immune system, and overall emotions, yes. It was like a void, a cold room where you questioned if your icey body even was touching the wooden chair. But the lack of food played heavily. Regardless, even if your captors were right about the darkness, the lack of food would weaken anyone. Your body, after all the training and muscle growth, needed more food.
●○●○●○●○●○●
Drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth, body slumped in exhaustion. It took too much energy to even close your mouth.
Another day, another unanswered question, another beating. Every once in a while they'd ask a question you would know an answer to, but even then said you were clueless. How many days have you been in this room? The lack of light messed up your clock, to where time felt pointless. You struggled to latch onto hope. Days must have passed, and you were feeling closer and closer to death. Withdrawing from your superfood, sugar, torturing your body. You had never gone so long without it. And for a moment, you wondered if your body could. Your mind flashed to the doctors telling you to ingest as much as you could, the irrigation in their voice as they backtracked on every once of advice they had ever given. “Your energy, not just your quirk, depends on it.” interesting… You were so young when you heard that information, and you only remember it now.
●○●○●○●○●○●
10 days. Shinso rested in the car, body stiff and tense. Eyes set on the headrest in front of him. Eye hollow, yet filled and swirled with sickening fear and anguish.
●○●○●○●○●○●
12 days. The door swung open, shining blinding light onto you. A high-pitched cry left your chapped lips as it flashed your unprepared eyes. It felt like your skin was melting at its harshness. As though it was a flame held up to your skin. “Y/N '' a voice nearly screamed. Your head swirled up, vision blinded by the light and head now pounding, what little energy you had straining. “In-show?” your small voice cracked. Swollen tongue struggling to say the name. “I'm here! I'm here! I got you!”
Shino's eyes watered lightly at your appearance. Pale, you were sickly pale. Your hair was greasy, which he cared little about, except that it seemed matted with blood. Your cheeks were bruised and your eyes sunk in. And you were cold, so cold.
Then you cried, whimpering out in vain as you tried to grasp onto him once free. He held you close, your two bodies resting on the ground for a second as he cradled your frail self. “I love you - I love you” he repeated into your hair, not caring at the smell or cracked blood.
●○●○●○●○●○●
You lay in the hospital bed, sugar packets and sugar bags splayed open. You looked healthier and more alive. Your colors coming back and your bruises slowly fading. Shinso sat beside you, fingers carefully rubbing your hand. Too worried to fully hold your hand due to the red marks you received from struggling in your binds. “I love you,” you whispered out through cracked lips.
Shinso smiled, leaning down to kiss you until you moved your head away. “N-no.” He froze, fear raking his body. You must have felt it, the sudden tension in his body, and quickly you spoke. “My- my lips are cracked and- and I smell awful.” he won't lie, you kind of did. You smelt like a sterilized hospital room, like the cheap but effective soap the infirmary used. He cocked an eyebrow and laughed slightly.
“And I'm supposed to care?”
“Sh-shut it!”
●○●○●○●○●○●
Azawia leaned into the small area you two shared, making sure both of you were okay. The image of Shinso's red eyes and angered face never leaves his mind. How he carried your nearly limp body in his arms, your skin bruised and the usual smirk you so often had gone and replaced by a busted lip. But now, instead, he found you nuzzled into Shinso’s shoulder. The lanky male hunched over your bed, arms wrapped tightly around you as he buried his face into your hair. Azawia looked away and walked out of the medical wing, his body finally relaxing. You both where safe, you both were okay
#bnha headcannons#bnha fanfiction#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha writing#fluff#bnha requests#🪴request/ questions🪴#hitoshi shinso x y/n#shinso x reader#hitoshi shinso x reader#mha shinso x reader#shinsou headcanons#shinso hitoshi#my hero academia shinsou
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Some of the responses to my last post have made me realize that maybe Bakugo's trauma isn't as well understood as some of the other characters', and, because I have free time today, I figured I might as well break it down in chronological order and work from there (warning you now: this will be long).
To begin with, there's a lot of obvious things about the Sludge villain incident that would be traumatizing for basically anyone. And as much as Bakugo tried to shove off the after-effects, we know he was scared:
But there are a lot of Bakugo-specific reasons why the Sludge villain really fucked with his confidence and sense of self-worth. For one thing, while we see Midoriya getting attacked, he's rescued by All Might almost instantly. He barely has time to realize he's suffocating before he's free. Bakugo? Not so much. It's unclear how long, exactly, the Sludge villain holds him hostage, but it's at least a few minutes. Which doesn't sound very long until you remember that Bakugo was fourteen, couldn't breathe, and, because he isn't stupid, was completely aware that multiple pro heroes were basically standing around watching him be brutalized and doing absolutely nothing to help.
The only person who did help was Deku. The only person. The only person who gave enough of a shit about Bakugo to try and save him was the person he has the most complicated relationship with: his rival, his victim, his childhood friend, the person he feels both the safest and most exposed with. The person he measures himself against constantly, and internally finds himself lacking. So not only is all of this happening, but Deku—who just hours earlier Bakugo was mocking for being weak—is the one person strong enough to try and do something, and gets front row seats to Bakugo's own weakness.
Then All Might shows up and saves Bakugo from what is, at that point, the most humiliating, terrifying thing that has ever happened to him. But of course Bakugo isn't happy about it; he never wanted to be saved by All Might, and meeting his hero for the first time the way he did? What Bakugo wanted, desperately, was to prove himself to All Might, and instead he's just another dumb kid that got saved from a villain attack by the greatest pro hero who ever lived.
Not only that, but this was in public. It was televized. Bakugo was made so famous for it, people recognized him years later on the street based solely on his face. And while theoretically that's great exposure for him, imagine if the worst, most degrading moment of your entire life was broadcast on live, national television, and constantly brought up like some funny anecdote by people who don't even know you. He was fourteen years old being physically assaulted and strangled in front of the entire country and unable to do anything about it. Not only did that damage his pride, but it really fucked with him mentally. Look at what Midoriya even says about him:
That's not even to begin talking about how much pressure he puts himself under to be the best, no exceptions. He has a full-on panic attack when he loses in Deku vs. Kacchan 1 because he ties his self-worth so completely to winning he thinks of himself and worthless without it. Look how deeply it affects him:
That's not just bruised pride, that's Bakugo dealing with every single one of his insecurities being laid bare in public again. It's gonna just keep happening, too. And sure, like with this fight, sometimes he brings it on himself, but. Holy shit, this poor kid.
Then, of course, we have the kidnapping.
Despite their misapplication of their information, the LoV actually understands Bakugo pretty well. By that I mean, they figured out what affects Bakugo the most and capitalize on it to try and win him over to their side. They attack his image as a hero. Which seems kind of lame and generic, except it really hits home. Why?
Because that's his biggest insecurity, his deep, dark shame: Bakugo doesn't think of himself as heroic.
He's an excellent fighter and strategist, he's fearless, able to work well under pressure, adaptable, quick-thinking, and extremely powerful. All incredible traits for a hero. What he doesn't have is an instinct to save others. Deku does; he'll reach his hand out to anyone, without thought, no matter the cost to his safety/happiness. But Bakugo consistently struggles with this aspect of being a true hero. He's very aware of how important it is—every time he talks about Deku looking down on him, the thing he was laughing at Bakugo for? Yeah, this is it—and how very much he lacks it. And the LoV rubs his face in the fact that not only do a bunch of villains see him as being villainous, but the public he's supposed to be well on his way to protecting do, too. Yeah Aizawa defends him, but of course that whole experience negatively affects Bakugo. Especially because of what comes after.
Deku vs. Kacchan 2 is probably the closest Horikoshi comes to stabbing the audience through the brain with a knife labeled "Bakugo's trauma".
The whole fight is just Bakugo baring his soul in the most raw, heart-wrenching way possible. Look at what he asks Deku:
None of these lines should be ignored. This is Bakugo admitting that he is terrified that every bit of praise he's ever received is meaningless in the face of reality, which has proven that he is not worthy. All Might didn't think so, otherwise why wouldn't he have picked Bakugo to be his successor? Every ounce of skill, all the effort Bakugo has poured into his dream, it all means nothing. Why? Because Deku is inherently heroic, and Bakugo is not. Bakugo knows it, Midoriya knows it (why else would he be laughing in Bakugo's face if he wasn't intimately aware of his failures?), All Might knows it—hell, the whole world knows it. And because Bakugo is his own worst critic, he's gutted that someone like him, someone unworthy, destroyed the Symbol of Peace. His hero.
Does this not look like trauma? Does this not look like a kid poorly dealing with PTSD who's lashing out and trying to punish himself? And trying to purge his emotions the only way he knows how, through fighting? Who is desperately seeking some kind of compassion and connection in Deku, because he is losing his mind and can't keep going? He's a kid who's been given basically zero support, who's been expected to deal with not only being kidnapped and psychologically tortured, but also being the direct cause of Japan's sudden criminal uprising. That is so much pressure to put on a child. Any single bit of Bakugo's experience would be traumatizing by itself, but put together? It's like a personalized hell for him.
And then we have the Moment. The my body just moved on its own moment. Bakugo is so afraid for Deku leading up to this:
And afterward? It really affects him.
He's scared for Deku. He's beating himself up for not supporting him better, for not getting over himself and taking Deku's hand. He thought his closest person was going to die in front of his eyes, and then that person ran away. Of course that traumatized Bakugo.
Now, the reason Bakugo's trauma often gets overlooked (both in canon and in the fandom space) is, in my opinion, because he doesn't express his trauma in a way that's easy to romanticize. It often comes out as anger and violence, loud and obnoxious and toxic. His trauma responses hurt other people, specifically Deku. And in a character that isn't going for poor little meow meow bloodthirsty vengeance-based criminal or abused child with terrible social skills but a heart of gold, it's hard for people to wrap their heads around the fact that Bakugo isn't really a bad kid so much as he's a kid who has had a lot of crap dumped on him and hasn't been given any tools to heal. He doesn't know how to express his feelings easily or clearly when he isn't in the middle of a fight, and he has very few coping skills to help him deal with his crippling self-loathing and inferiority complex. So when he reaches his mental limit, he—pun intended—explodes.
That isn't to say that Bakugo isn't responsible for his trauma responses, the same way every other character is. He absolutely deserves to be taken to task over them, and the narrative has done a good job of giving him one consequence after the other. But at the same time, he really is just a child who is doing his best in a fucked up situation. And while his actions definitely have hurt other people, the amount of mental torment Bakugo finds himself in on a regular basis deserves more sympathy than I think he sometimes gets.
I understand why characters like Shoto get more of the poor baby treatment, because he's the perfect victim: faultless, and his anger is almost 100% directed at the perpetrator, his father. Comparatively, Bakugo's trauma is messy and overflowing and directed at all the wrong people. But that's neither unrealistic nor even all that surprising, given what we know about him. And part of that is because his trauma isn't nearly as straight-forward, since it's so wrapped up in his own self-esteem issues that he blames himself, and then tries to refocus his hurt and anger on Deku to mitigate his own pain.
It's a big part of why I like Bakugo so much; he represents the unappealing side of trauma responses that are so common, but so often get overlooked because they're unappealing. He's a victim who doesn't act the way we want a victim to act, but rather the way they usually do, and for that I applaud Horikoshi on his realism.
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Allow me to enter the "adult conversation". I want to answer to that anon aswell.
why didn't he show up for taylor when she needed support?
what do you even mean? As in public or private? Cause privately you don't know anything and if she stayed with him for years clearly he was doing something right. If you mean in public, first of all how do you know Taylor needed support and how do you know when she needed it? Did you expect him to drop everything and go to every single event of hers? Which is kind of hard given that she's constantly doing things and he has a job unlike what you all think. And he did supported her by the way they way
Why was he resentful of her success?
who told you he was resentful of anything? The voices in your head?
Why didn't he go with her to several awards shows? Including the Grammys!
which awards shows exactly are you referring to? Because the usual examples swifties give were on dates he was working. Funny you should mention the Grammys cause he was in the backstage of the 2022 Grammys, when even the relationship was mostly likely dead. If you mean the 2021 Grammys, he was filming. There was a pandemic and travel restrictions. Even if he could have gone, he would have to stay in quarantine before and after obviously messing up the filming schedule
Why did he party in her house whilst ignoring her all the time?
I'm sick of this party story you all got from out of nowhere. And apparently somehow even for the scope he ignored her at said party. First of all, they were living together on that house, as much as you think otherwise it wasn't her house. It was their house, as partners of years who already lived together anyway. He was not a high school kid having to ask for permission from his parents to throw a party. So if he did use the house to throw a party, it's not this outrageous thing you make it out to be. Let me remind you Taylor met and was friend with his co-stars aswell.
Why did he want her to not be as famous as she is now while Travis is very open to it?
Again, who told you he didn't want her to be famous? And I'm guessing you must be a teenager because asking why one person is ok with something someone else isn't is screaming I don't have life experiences. Think about it, if you like tomatoes does that mean everyone likes tomatoes? Ofc not, because we all have different tastes. So why does Travis loves fame and Joe doesn't? Obviously because they are two different people. And quite clearly not only Travis is ok with Taylor's fame, he also loves it and wants to be famous too.
Taylor wanted to be loved out loud but joe always seemed embarrassed by her.
if Taylor wants to be loved out loud good for her, but not everyone does and not everyone has the same love language. If she wanted that, that bad then she should have left Joe earlier cause he shouldn't change who he is to please her. They were together for years, she had plenty of time to realize he couldn't give what she wanted.
And if you mean he was embarassed as in I'm trying to do my job and promote it and people want to know about my personal life instead... that's just you thinking he should have given you content
Why didn't he answer what his fave taylor song was?
Again, because the interviews were about his job not personal life. Because he didn't want to, which is more than enough reason. Because you are not entitled to know about it anyway lol also that question was made back in 2018 when they were very much still very closed off. Maybe after folkore they would have had more luck. The only person entitled to know was Taylor and I'm sure she did so
Why did it always seem like he hated us, the fans?
As he should???? You are all fucking annoying and vile. And if he didn't hate you before, after how you all treated him over the last year he has more than reasons to. If you want the serious answer, he wasn't obliged to love any of you. He wasn't in a relationship with any of you. Get that in your skull. The person he loved was Taylor and that was the person he was in a relationship with. The reason you like Travis is because he's bootlicking you, but I assure you that's not the normal thing. Anyone normal doesn't care to appease and try her gf's fans to like you. The most he should do is respect you and not treat you badly and Joe always followed that. But ofc he didn't care beyond that. Why should he?
Why did he interact with several of his female co stars but locked her away in the basement of his heart?
not the basement. Like stop with this quoting her lyrics as a form of criticism. It's cringe as hell. Also he interacted with his co-stars (regardless of gender) yeah. Did you want him to just ignore them??? In which planet do you live?
Or literally not see she was depressed as he left her behind at home (caging her) while he went to the bar?
Not caging her. Stop you're ridiculous. Taylor wasn't chained at home. If she wanted to go out no one would stop her. Stop being ridiculous ffs. What bar are you even talking about? Is this about the black dog song which not only is post breakup but not even about him? And guess what, by Taylor's own words he was also depressed. So you can also ask yourself, why should he have empathy for her depression when he was depressed and she talks about it like a burden?
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Killer Queen💀
Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko x F. Reader
You have a crush on a certain Super Villain and he's the only one to make you feel a certain way.
Warnings: Smut ahead💋👇🏻; Autassassinophilia kink; Oral(Giving); Degradation; Praising; Choking; Barebacking; Creampie [18+ | NSFW]
Autassassinophilia: a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by the risk of being killed.
"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder." - Octave Mirbeau
It takes some goading to Giran before he finally relents and gives you a "see what I can do" answer. That's better than him blowing you off anyways. It isn't all to preserve his reputation, believe it or not. You're trying to get close to things you shouldn't be anywhere near. Sure, you're used to working with "bad guys", but this one in particular tends to take the cake.
You're Giran's assistant. While he acted aloof around you, as he did with most people, he actually gave a bit of a damn about you. He'd known you since you were a kid. The daughter of a guy he'd grown up with. He groomed you for the broker business. While you never made the deals, he was the face of the business after all, you helped him procure things that were requested of him. Be that items or people.
He'd give you the details and you'd fetch whatever the customer was looking for. You'd also keep an eye out for anything that may benefit Giran in the long run. You were always in the background, but you loved the life. No matter how glamorous it tended not to be. You were even the one who found Toga. Well, she found you technically. Though you never went to all the meets, especially when it came to the League of Villains, everyone knew you worked with Giran.
He'd never bring you along to those dealings if he had his way. Giran knew that would become harder to do once you knew of the existence of Shigaraki Tomura, however. Even with Kurogiri present Giran knew that Shigaraki was unpredictable and wouldn't risk having you in his sights. A seasoned vet like him even bolted as soon as he got payment.
You knew your luck was changing the night Giran got the call. It sounded like a regular one, Giran responding with "yeah" and "uh huh" now and then. Suddenly he sat up straighter, much more tense than before. Finally, he ended the call with "Alright. I'll let her know. Thanks." Your head snapped to him and you watched intently as he hung up. He sighed and immediately pulled out a new smoke. "Well?!", you commented with unbridled excitement.
"That was Kurogiri." Your eyes widened. Your giddy feelings dialed down a bit, knowing that you might be turned down. Giran took another drag before continuing. "Says he had to clear it wit' the big guy in charge first, but ya can head over tomorrow night. Apparently the League has a few days off to lay low for a bit."
You briefly wonder what the All For One thinks about you wanting to visit with Shigaraki, but he must think it's something alright for the villain. Those thoughts don't last too long with your excited nerves already building. "Thank you!", you squeal as you leap over to Giran and pull him in close for a hug and kiss his cheek. "Yeah, yeah.", he sighs but you can see the workings of a small smile on his lips. "Don't say I don' do nothin' for ya."
The time finally comes despite it seeming like the hours ticked by slower than normal. You know it's just your excitement building, but it was torture none the less. You park down the street and take a few deep breaths to ease your nerves. Before you get out of your car you notice a few figures walk out of the very bar you intend on walking into. You recognize them as League members, and you figure they've been let go for the night to enjoy the free time you were told about. Some leaving together, like Toga and Twice; others heading out alone, namely Dabi.
You exit the vehicle and head over to the bar door. You steel your nerves and find whatever confidence you can to not seem so anxious. When you step inside it's pretty much what you were expecting. Nothing to write home about. A man with black smoke where his head would be turns and focuses his yellow eyes your way. You can only assume that's Kurogiri.
The very man you came to see sat quietly at the bar facing him. You notice a few newspapers laying around the bar top nearby, as well as a glass of amber liquid. You can't help but stare at the slender figure of the guy you've come to have a crush on. "You must be the young lady Giran called about." You nod as you take a few timid steps closer to the pair. "Yeah, that's me."
"This is Shigaraki Tomura.", he says as he extends his hand to point him out even though he's the only other person in the room. You give your name and wait for Shigaraki to acknowledge you. That turns out to be a number of excruciating minutes later. It's when Kurogiri clears his throat and lowly tells him "Don't be rude." Finally, Shigaraki sighs as if he's being burdened and turns his head in your direction.
He sits up a little straighter after taking in your appearance. He still has Father over his face, but he actually removes the hand to get a better look of you. You notice his ruby gaze move over your form, but he doesn't make any expression that shows he's impressed. However that turns out to be just the case. He is impressed.
You're infinitely cuter than he expected.
After staring at you for a few moments you finally hear him speak. "Giran said you like video games." His voice is higher pitched and raspy, but you can't help but find it cute regardless. "Yeah, I do.", you reply happily. You internally facepalm at your reaction. You must seem like a lame fangirl. It is almost too hard for him to take your bright eyes and girly admiration that's clear on your face. Almost.
"Well...Wanna play?" You nod your head emphatically and watch him rise to his feet. He places Father on the bar top for Kurogiri to look after. He eyes you one more time before turning to walk in the direction of a doorway towards the back. He doesn't say anything as he goes, simply waves you along after he starts walking. "Come on, little girl." Though you're elated he's willing to hang out with you, you narrow your eyes as you hurry to follow after him.
Shigaraki walks through the doorway and turns to head up a narrow set of stairs. "I'm not a little girl.", you chide him and he turns to glance back at you. He's almost appalled at the fact you're challenging him but can't seem to help find it endearing. He's not sure yet if he likes that you're growing on him after just meeting you.
Shigaraki simply replies with "whatever" as he turns back and continues up the stairs. He leads you to a room at the end of a bleak hallway. It's pretty bare: nothing on the walls, a single twin bed with crumpled white sheets, a closet and door that was ajar enough to show a small bathroom. One corner stood out as noticeably different than the rest.
There was a small flat screen television that's hooked up to a state-of-the-art gaming system. A few quality controllers sit next to it, and a nice, comfortable gaming chair topped off the area. "Woww.", you whisper in a hushed breath. Shigaraki takes in your impressed expression and feels the swelling of pride begin in his chest. Right where his heart would be to be exact. He wasn't even sure he could feel things in that part of his body anymore.
He points towards a plethora of games stacked in piles nearby. You find the collection he has both extensive and impressive. "Kurogiri said I should let you pick first. Something about being the guest." You nod and look over the titles. "How 'bout we start with this one?", you question as you pull the case out of a stack to show him the cover.
It's an older game. A first-person shooter zombie killing game to be specific. To his own surprise he's genuinely pleased with the selection you choose. It's 'an oldie but a goodie'. Definitely a classic that just so happens to be one of his favorites. He just nods and instructs you to set it up. You think about how he must be used to ordering people around as you work. Somehow only finding it more attractive of him.
Shigaraki goes over to a mini fridge and pulls out two sodas. He's once again confused when he comes back over and asks if what he pulled out for you is alright. Why does he even care? You accept the offered drink and finish setting everything up. Of course he takes the gaming chair after sliding a worn-out bean bag chair over for you to sit in. Naturally. It doesn't bother you, though. The two of you then begin a campaign that grows in intensity as time goes by.
You end up playing together longer than either of you expect. He loves how enthralled in the game you become, and you just so happen to be better than he even anticipated. He watches you out of the corner of his eye during the gameplay. You're certainly funny and make even cuter faces the more you get into it, especially when you're concentrating.
He doesn't seem to notice you doing the same as you take the opportunity to watch him in your peripherals. You already know he's cute, so you take notice of his hands. He grips the controllers with a pinky on each hand raised. It amazes you how much of an expert he is in doing so. It doesn't even seem to bother him in the slightest.
After yet another playthrough he sets down his controller and stretches his arms over his head. You do the same as you rise up off the bean bag. Afterward he pulls out his cellphone and you watch as he seemingly types out a text. "Do you drink?" The question catches you by surprise and you mumble out a quick reply with "Uh, yeah, I do."
His phone is already away when a minute later there's a single knock at his door before it's pushed open to reveal Kurogiri. He steps into the room and puts a tray down on the end table beside the bed that has a bottle and two empty glasses resting on it. He straightens up after filling the small glasses and he looks over to you two. "I do hope things are going well." You feel your face heat up slightly but nod still. "Yeah, fine.", Shigaraki says with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Kurogiri takes that as his que to leave and nods before walking out. Leaving the pair of you alone once more. Shigaraki suddenly finds himself nervous and begins scratching his neck. That's when he realized that it was the first time he's done so since coming into his room and playing with you. Why were you able to do that to him?
Shigaraki doesn't allow the atmosphere to become awkward. He isn't sure what to say so he goes over to pick up one of the drinks Kurogiri poured. He only takes a sip or two before he sees you looking at him and he waves you over to join him. You make your way next to him and pick up your own glass. His eyes widen as the liquid seems to slide down your throat with ease.
After taking a gulp you place your nearly empty glass back down. You watch as Shigaraki keeps his own gaze locked onto yours. He brings the edge of his glass up to his lips, never breaking eye contact, and takes a larger gulp just as you had. You found yourself getting lost in his crimson eyes. Before you could register what you were doing and stop yourself you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him.
Shigaraki immediately froze at your actions. He gasped and you were able to slide your tongue inside his mouth to engage with his own. He was clumsy with it. Clearly evident that he was inexperienced. You cracked open your lidded eyes slightly to see him staring down at you wide eyed. Still in shock you mused to yourself.
With your eyes closed once more you felt him tilt down to the side and heard the click of his glass being put down. That's when you felt it. His hands tentatively placed on your hips. After a few moments their grip gets a bit tighter before you feel him smooth them around your back to pull you impossibly closer to him. Even with his hands behind you, you could feel his four fingers of each hand.
When you finally part for breath, he doesn't take long before he's chasing your lips for another kiss. After a hearty make out session you sense him start to lower himself onto his bed. You stop kissing and look down when you hear the familiar clicking of a belt buckle. Shigaraki lets out a low chuckle with a dark look in his eye. "Why don' you be a good little slut 'n suck my cock. I'd like that, 'n I jus' know you'd like it too."
Your hot core instantly throbs at his words, and you grind your thighs together before you lower yourself to your knees. He's right, after all. You slide his pants and boxers down in one go. His legs are slim but toned. It's obvious he's strong, but unassuming looking. You think about how Heroes could underestimate him and come to find they're sorely mistaken.
When his cock springs free into your face your mouth waters. It's long and slim, like him, but curved just right. You gingerly take him in your hand and give him a few preliminary pumps to test his reaction. As soon as you take him in your hand it's obvious he tenses and give the subtlest jerk of his hips. He's already panting in anticipation and you've hardly started. You can't wait to see how else he'll react.
You give him a moment to gather himself. That's when you go for it and lick up his long shaft before pecking his tip and gathering the bead of pre that was present there on your lips. You hear the hiss he lets out as he sucks in a breath through his teeth at your initial motions. You watch him, keeping his ruby eyes locked with yours, as you sink down and wrap your mouth around him as low as you can at first. It's not balls deep quite yet, but you'll get there.
You bob up and down, sucking him off for the first few minutes. Then you bring yourself down as low as you can to get him as far back into your throat as possible. You're still looking up at Shigaraki as you watch his head throw back in ecstasy. Then you feel him grip hold of your hair at the top of your head. He's got a fistful as he pumps your head up and down to throat fuck you.
You picture it in your head with your eyes closed at first. The slight sheen of sweat beginning to gather along his forehead. His eyebrows narrowed in concentration. The clump of hair he's gripping onto with a raised pinky. One wrong move of him lowering the digit, especially while he's distracted like this, means the end for you. Painfully.
That's the thought that makes your pussy wet to the point it could pool on the floor underneath you.
He's doesn't lower it, though. Even with his mind fogged with lust and concentrating on not finishing in your soft, wet mouth too soon. He's grunting so much you could tell he's close, especially by the twitch of his cock in your mouth. Suddenly he's squeezing your shoulders and when you stop and look at him he's slowly pulling you off him. You're about to ask if he needed you to do something different, or stop all together (to your dismay), but he simply tries to catch his breath before speaking. "T-take off your clothes. Then you're going to stand up 'n bend over the edge of the bed when I tell ya."
You let out a mewl at his instructions and obediently rise to your feet. That has the spark of life going right to his cock, keeping him ready and twitching without your sweet mouth satisfying him. You really are his little obedient slut, aren't you? He couldn't be more satisfied with the decision to allow you two to meet. If it's half as satisfying to fuck into your heat as it was your mouth, he's going to have a harder time concentrating on anything else important.
Shigaraki swallows hard when he sees your naked form, timid and shy before him. He doesn't know where to look first. He figures he'll start with your beautiful face and work his way down your sexy body. He runs his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. His cock twitches yet again the way your eyes are shining with elation at him and how it's clear you're waiting for his next command.
"Good girl.", he coos as he takes one finger and tugs a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You hum in response and wait for him to continue. To tell you what you should do next. "Go on 'n bend over now. I want your ass on display." You nod and obey as you get right into position and Shigaraki resists the urge to groan at how good you're being for him.
Once you're bent over, resting on his bed with your forearms and your ass up, you wait to see what's going to happen next. You jolt when you feel him swipe a finger up through your folds and gather some of your slick. Since he's behind you, the only evidence of what he did next was the hum of delight and the pop when he pulled his finger from his mouth.
"You taste real good, Player Two." That had another mewl coming from you and the grinding of your thighs at his words. Your heart was beating rapidly and you're sure if you opened your chest up it'd go soaring. He actually thought of you as his "player two". Suddenly he was groping handfuls of your asscheeks. When he slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hands away you jolted again when you felt one of his hands fly down to swat your ass.
The moan that came flying out of your mouth would've been impossible to repress. Shigaraki let out a dark chuckle as he leaned closer to your ear. "You're still lovin' this, huh?", he questioned with a teasing tone. Out of nowhere, another spank. This time of the other cheek. Afterward, he smoothed his hands over the reddening area.
You could hear him chortle as he did so. "I noticed you were lookin' at my hands." His voice was more hushed now yet still raspy. "You get off on the fact that it's so dangerous to be around me." Another slap on your ass. "Spanking is jus' as dangerous. One wrong move. Just one time I come down too hard and that pinky could fall. You love that, huh?"
Another spank, followed by a loud, unholy moan from you. He was right, you already knew that. Shigaraki could kill you on any one of the swings he does. His index and middle fingers slid down to run through your soaked folds. "I knew it. You're a danger slut. Aren'cha?" Suddenly he gripped the back of your hair and pulled you up to stand in front of him with your back against his chest as he kisses your neck.
"I knew you were special. Master said I'd have a playmate, but I didn't believe him. I should've known he'd make sure I'd have a sweet thing like you."
He turned your head to the side so he could vigorously kiss your mouth. When a few seconds were up he roughly pushed you down onto his bed. You look back at him and see that he's working his hard length once again. "Lay on your back. 'M gonna fuck you now." You crawl up his bed and flop onto your side before rolling over onto your back. Your legs still rubbing together for some friction.
Suddenly you see him standing at the edge on the side of his bed. He's scratching his neck and it's obvious he's trying to say something, or at least convey something important. Finally, he speaks when he lowly states that, "I-I don't have a c-condom." His cheeks are red with embarrassment that spreads to the tips of his ears and down his neck.
You simply hum in understanding before you lean up and cup his face to reply to him. "That's okay.", you comment in a sincere tone. "You don't have to worry about anything. Just finish whenever you feel like you're ready." He eyes you for a moment and allows you to pull him in for a short but sweet kiss. He nods this time and crawls over your body to lay over you.
Shigaraki sits back on his knees and watches as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds as it gathers an abundance of the delicious slick. That's when he aims it at your tight hole and begins to push inside you, sometimes having to thrust to give it an extra push into your core. He feels your gummy walls tight around him and he swears it's the best thing he's felt. He's sure he could blow any time now.
So he steels himself, bringing his hands to hold under your thighs and push them up a bit. "Think I'll lose track 'n drop my last finger down?" You know he's taunting you, but it makes you wetter and clench all the same. The clamping down on him has him reeling as he bends over you to place one hand down next to your head. He has to give a few more thrusts before he's mostly inside you. "Fuck, you're so wet.", he exclaims before figuring 'screw it' and plunges his cock balls deep into your guts.
"Such a good Player Two. Taking me so well. You're gonna lay there 'n take it 'n scream like a good girl, right?" Any words were long gone for you to respond with. You'd hardly gotten started, and your brain was already fuzzy. You can't even imagine how you'll be after he fucks you senseless.
You simply did what you could and nodded as you wrapped your arms around his frame. Even though he was kind of clumsy it was obvious this was a first time for him, or one of his first times anyway. He was a fast learner and had little trouble satisfying you. Especially once he learned about that kink of yours.
Shigaraki stared into your eyes and then kissed you roughly. As he pumped his cock into your tightening cunt, he brought a hand up to your throat. One pinky raised yet again of course. That's when he saw your eyes roll back and felt that pussy of yours clench him like a vice. "You love how dangerous I am. How I could kill you in the blink of an eye. There'd be nothin' left of you. Nothin' left of this gorgeous body of yours. Nothing." He chortled as if amused but seemed to carry a different aura about him as he went on. "That'd be a real shame. You're my 'Player Two' after all. Givin' me your body so freely."
"Yes, yes, YES!!", was all you could scream. It was true anyway. All of it. He drove you wild, especially like this. You wanted him and could only pray he'd have you to take again and again. "Such a slut. My little cum slut, right?" You nod again, briefly this time, knowing his hand was still on your throat.
He picked up his pace as he bullied your tight pussy. "Oh God!", he commented breathless and panting. "Such a sweet obedient girl. Ready to take her Master's cock." He feels your pillowy walls tighten around him and encourages you to continue. "Cum on my cock sweet thing. Do it." As he drilled into you, you were on the verge but still hadn't cum yet. He knew just what would send you over the edge.
With a stern voice, he once again demanded you cum on his cock. "...Or I'm gonna dust you for good measure.", he growled. That sent you over the edge and you clamped down the hardest and began to milk him dry. "Gah..c-cum-cummin'!" He was lost in his own post sex haze as he filled you with his seed, branding you his. "G-good girl.", he pants. "That's my good girl. All mine."
Your heart swells at his words and once the two of you come down from your highs, he slowly pulls out of you with a hiss. You're left there on your back, a panting mess when he rolls off you and awkwardly hands you some paper towels from nearby so you can wipe yourself up. You quickly do so and see him reach his hand out to take them back.
Watching closely, he walks over to a trash can and dusts the now tarnished rags he holds to let them fall into the can. You had begun to sit up and look around for your clothes when he clears his throat. "You, uh, you can stay if ya want." You head flies to his direction and a smile begins to pull at your lips. "I'd like that."
Slowly and apprehensively, as if giving you the chance to change your mind, he climbs into bed. He lays his arm over your head for you to curl into his naked body so he can wrap that arm around you. You glance up to him to see him eying you timidly. "Thank you." After a few comfortable moments of silence Shigaraki speaks up. "I think I should be thanking you, Babygirl."
You giggle a bit into his skin before looking up to meet his eyes again. Now it's your turn to be timid. "Am... A-am I really you're Player Two." That's when Shigaraki was caught off guard. He scratches his throat a bit. He was fine with considering that of you, especially during the act. With one finger he moves a strand of hair that had fallen over your forehead and into your eyes. "Yeah, I guess ya are. Wouldn't mind it as long as it's you anyway."
The smile you gave him in response had his chest twisting in a way he never had happen to him before. He'd need time to figure it out, but he knew he wanted you close regardless. Especially after the excursions that just occurred. He tightened his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to rest on him.
After a few quiet moments, you broke the serenity surrounding the two of you with a simply question. "Does this mean I'm gonna be meetin' the League?" Shigaraki groaned and ran his free hand down his face. "I'd like to keep ya all to myself a little longer if that's alright with ya." You widen you smile before tucking your head back into his chest to nuzzle into him. "If Dabi were to try anythin' with ya I swear it'd be the last thing he does.", he quietly grumbles. All you do is simply respond with a quiet "yours" before sleep begins to overtake you.
Shigaraki didn't know what to do but just hold you against him. He'd hold you for as long as he could. He'd try to keep his finger positions in check, and hold back his overwhelming need to kill to keep his scratching in check. No matter how much you liked being so close to death.
No matter how attracted you are for him being someone who could kill you with such ease.
#bnha#mha#mha fanfiction#mha smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#shimura tenko#tenko x reader#tenko smut#kinktober#kinktober 2022#kinktober '22#tw: autassassinophilia
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Hiiii! Welcome to "Me discovering that I can talk about my random thoughts on Psychology and MHA cause those two have been hyperfixations for years and Tumblr is the best place to talk like that"
"Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fawn" Part 2 : The League of Villains!
(You can't understand how happy I am to see that the first one really interested people!!)
So Touya/Dabi was already made in Part 1
1st, let's start with Toga. We know her past, she was seen as weird, a freak, disgusting by her own family (I heard she had siblings, so even as far as them). But during years, she faked being a "perfect little child" that listened and was calm and "normal". Her family confronted her behaviours and she was in a full Fawn mode. One day, her mask that she forced onto herself fell and all her repressed needs, who are in her D.N.A., came as they could. The need of blood made her attack someone. This feeling of finally being free (herself) brought her to the LOV and to find a family that accept her and her "abnormal" behaviour. She seems to actually only need that, a family, and when she can (like in the Yakuza mess), she'd rather Flight the conflict. However if her family is targeted (like with Magne and Twice), or when her family gives her orders to, she will Fight. Because she just wants to keep her found family.
2nd is Twice. Pretty much like Toga, he only needed a family. Due to his mental instability, his fears and his self-doubts, he could have been a Freeze and not react, be stucked while facing confrontation (kinda like what we can see even before with his old boss). Though he trusted his new family so much that he was, like Toga, either going for the Flight or the Fight depending of how much his family needed him. (Though a bit more of a Flight then Toga before season 6, still because of his insecurities and fears of fighting eating his confidence away).
3rd Mister Compress. We don't see much of him, we just know that thieves are normal and biological in his family. So I would say that confronted, Compress may prefer to go for the Flight. Fighting would be if an irrespectful act is commited but he wouldn't stay doing nothing, or wouldn't dirty himself for a random person.
4th, Spinner. We know he's a follower. He follow Stain blindly because he doesn't know what else to do, then Shigaraki because he becomes a good leader, and listens to Dabi because he sees him as superior. He doesn't really have his own way of thinking and weighting the good and the bad side of his decisions. His "primary leaders" being Fighters, he would immediatly Fight back too. Same as Toga and Twice for the found family part, if his family is threatened, he will Fight for them. But before the LOV he was definitely a Freeze. Lizard side or not, he seemed to be very "NPC"-like towards his life, so no much reaction to confrontation before he had a goal.
5th is Shigaraki himself. He's a Fight. Confrontation = Fight for him, he was raised that way. OFA raised him that way. He won't be a perfect silent person, he won't say nothing and stay still, he won't escape from the situation. He yearns for a new society, a new reign, he wants to see a country and the world crumbles. A full Fight made to be like that by OFA.
Bonus because he was asked!
Stain : Stain to me would respond by Fight or Flight. But while his Fight would be very direct (you confront him, he confronts back), his Flight would be controlled. He doesn't want to avoid a situation of confrontation because he is scared, how because that's how his mind instinctly answers, he just doesn't want to confronts and will leave instead. But this situation is pretty rare, it's the type of situation we can only see with All Might (because he is worthy enough to be a hero by Stain's psychology). Stain would, and that's what we can see with anyone else until now, only attack and kill because he sees the "unseriousness" of being a hero, the need for fame and not actual saving as a unique goal, as a threat to the job of being a hero.
I hope I didn't forget anyone.
Thanks to have been there for my little talk, if you have anything, professional or not to say or ask you can gladly interact I'l be very happy! ♡♡♡
Part 1 : The Todoroki Siblings
Part 3 : The UA teachers
#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#bokunoheroacademia#my hero academia#myheroacademia#lov#LOV#fight#flight#freeze#fawn#shigaraki#twice#toga#stain#compress#spinner#mha shigaraki#shigaraki tomura
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how do you deal with not trying to please others and/or not caring how others see you? i'm always trying so hard, and i don't even know if i like myself
this is something that is always incredibly tricky to navigate and i admire you so much for continuing to try in spite of all that anon 💗 i think, though, that you've identified the biggest obstacle already: until we are able to genuinely like but, more importantly, fully accept ourselves as we are it is always going to be difficult to not be swayed by what others think.
i'm not saying this in the "if you don't love yourself no one will love you" vein which i think is predominantly nonsense, but what i am saying is that, until you are able to build a solid base for yourself--a base that's rooted in self-compassion, self-honesty, and acceptance of both your flaws, limitations and your worth as a person, without pitting one over the other--it is going to be hard to hold your ground and not project your own worries and insecurities about yourself into your interpretation of what other people may or may not think (and i guarantee you, most of the time they are not thinking or looking at you anywhere near as harshly nor in the judgemental way you look at yourself).
being able to fully let go of and not worry about other people's opinions relies, first of all, on trust--not so much trust in other people but chiefly trust in yourself. trust in your ability to assert your own value for yourself, trust in your ability to make the choices you make and trust in your ability to make the mistakes you make and grow from them as a result. trust in the belief and the knowledge that you are a worthy and important person, that your flaws don't undo or erase your virtues, that you can show up as you are and that this isn't something you need to mediate or dress up for someone else's approval, that you are allowed (and expected) to struggle and be imperfect without your dignity or humanity being put on trial for it.
until you are able to slowly cultivate this kind of foundation for yourself, anything else will be built on sand; an inconsequential look, or a thoughtless word from someone (regardless of how harmless it actually is) will feel like the end of the world; it'll be like a gust of wind scattering everything you are trying to do because there is very little internal resistance to meet it or even question it. it can also, in a variety of subtle ways, affect the quality of the relationships around you: if you do not trust yourself to be open and present as you are, and be accepted as you are, you will never attain the quality of the relationships you think you are protecting by showing up in whatever guise you think people most want to see. when we don't allow ourselves to say how we feel, and be who we are, when we veil that with whatever role we think will allow us to be most liked or less likely to be rejected, we rob ourselves of genuine connection--you rob the other person of being able to actually connect honestly with you, and you rob yourself of being able to connect honestly with them. showing up as who you think they want is imposing your own perceptions on them in turn and not giving them the actual freedom to live and experience the truth of their relationship with you. and if they cannot experience that truth, then neither can you. everybody has their insecurities and everybody has their own worries--most of the time these, literally, have nothing to do with you: people project and act out of their own experiences and this happens regardless of what you do. and if it so happens that being yourself does cause the judgement you fear then ask yourself: what is the value of a relationship that can thrive only on one party's dishonesty? what is the value of a relationship that requires one party be constantly hiding?
i'm not saying that any of this is easy, or that it won't take time and effort, nor am i saying that you won't have setbacks. i'm not even saying that you have to love every single part of yourself and that you've failed if you don't--but it is, right now, vitally important for you to find some way of recognizing and affirming your own value for yourself-- not in spite of your flaws but alongside them. it requires a lot of clear-eyed honesty, not for the sake of castigating yourself ("i'm not good at xyz, therefore i can never be abc") but for the sake of being able to recognize where most of your fears and insecurities come from, how they make you act, and how you can then address them in turn. it's putting the things you most dislike about yourself alongside the things you don't, it's seeing how circumstances may have hindered you and affected you badly in the past and putting that alongside everything that you have made it through regardless and recognising that you cannot (you will not) always act "perfectly" or in the way you imagined or wanted, but that are doing so in the best way you can at any given time. and it's recognising that "the best i can" looks different on different days, that they are all bounded by whatever tools you have available to you at any given moment, that you cannot do better until you know better, and knowing better is a skill you grow, slowly, gently, patiently, like a plant you tend from first seed to first leaf.
again, i know it is difficult and i'm not trying to dismiss or diminish that at all. but you will get there, anon, and one day you will get to a point where you no longer recall how difficult it was to begin because you've come so far and grown so much since then. no matter how long, or how you choose to go about this, i will be rooting for you and believing in you with all my heart 🤍
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