#guro fic is coming i trying
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fic writing is getting me frustrated
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Frustration | Niamh Charles x Reader
A/n: I haven't written a fic in around 7 years but after that "we are Chelsea" episode with Niamh I had to write this. It's not edited and it might not be very good but if you enjoy and want a pt2 or more fics send in your requests
Warnings: smut 18+ mdni
A little angst if you squint, fingering r receiving, oral r receiving, thigh riding, squirting, praise kink and masturbation
Word count: 3k
Let's go
Just like most days you were sat in the passenger seat of your girlfriends Skoda Enyaq, this time on your way to Jessie's new apartment for a bonding night with your other team mates.
Although you had your license Niamh preferred to be the designated driver in your relationship before you'd left your house you did insist to her that you we're more than capable of driving seeing as she had yet to drive around that part of Cobham. Just like you knew she would she declined and slipped into the drivers seat. Sighing defeatedly you huffed into your seat. Your girlfriend just smirking at you handing you the aux.
"Baby, you know you're my passenger princess and you are better at playing the car DJ" Niamh giggled.
"Fine!" You mocked offence.
Once down the road and into unfamiliar territory for Niamh you began to direct her telling her what lane to be in and when to signal even though she had the satnav on. She let you carry on a few times before huffing!
"Y/n/n, I've got it"
You knew she hated backseat drivers but you were just trying to be helpful, after a few moments singing along to one of the songs you had put on you'd all but forgotten not to direct Niamh's driving.
"You're in the wrong lane, Jessie's road is the last exit on the rounda... bout" you mumbled out the last part when you caught her eye and she had that stern look plastered on her face. You suddenly remembered what you had done, Niamh wasn't easily frustrated but you knew that was one of her pet peeves.
You could tell she'd stiffened up slightly where she was trying to keep calm and so you put your hand on her thigh and gave her a soft smile. She softened in your touch and smiled asking you to turn up the music as it was one of your favourite songs playing.
"Turning saints into the sea.." you sang in unison as you pulled up in front of Jessie's apartment noting some of your other team mates cars in the lot.
--
By now you had been at Jessie's for a few hours you'd all watched a movie, had eaten the pizza's you'd collectively ordered and had played some of the games as that's usually what you do at a games night.
You were currently playing Pictionary and you were on a team with Jessie whilst Niamh was with Guro, Aggie was with Cat and Zecira was with Nathalie. You and Jessie were winning by miles whereas Niamh and Guro weren't having as much luck. Yourselves mocking and teasing them, it was then you saw the way your girlfriends jaw clenched that she was genuinely annoyed at herself losing.
"Baby don't worry you'll do better next time" you laughed.
"Yeah baby, maybe we will go easy next time" Jessie mocked.
"Give over Jess, you know I could crush you any day of the week"
"Niamhy it's okay Jess was only kidding"
"Yeah Charles it's all good"
"Whatever, let's play a different game"
It wasn't often you drank considering you were a professional athlete much similar to the other girls in your presence, that's why at team bonding nights you all usually got carried away.
As it was getting later and you'd all had a fair bit to drink, Guro suggested that it would be fun to play a game of truth or dare. Which if it went the way it usually did would end in drama.
"Guro you have to go first as it was your idea, so truth or dare?" You questioned
"Hmm, dare"
After a few seconds of trying to come up with a dare for Guro, Aggie chimes in.
"I dare you to chug the rest of your drink"
"Easy" she retorted after swallowing her mouthful and tipping the now empty bottle upside down.
Zecira seemed slightly bored of the tame dares yawning slightly and took it upon herself to spice things up.
"Let's amp it up a little ladies, Jessie truth or dare?"
"Dare"
"I dare you to kiss y/n for at least 5 seconds"
"But.. Niamh"
"But.. but it's just a game Niamh won't care, will you Niamh"
"Sure go ahead" Niamh said nonchalantly, although when you looked at her to gauge how she was really feeling you could see a tinge of jealous behind the smile on her face.
"Fine"
With that Jessie leant over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly, before she had fully sank back to where she was sitting you pulled her back in for a slightly longer kiss which she reciprocated.
"Finally, that's what I'm talking about"
Zecira always loved in her words to 'liven the party'
After a few more rounds and the feeling of Niamh's eyes burning into you, it was your turn.
"I'm going to go with truth"
Nobody had asked you yet but you had already given licked whipped cream off of Guro's cheek and gave Niamh a lap dance which definitely did not start a fire down below for her and the blush in her cheeks was from the alcohol she was drinking and couldn't possibly be anything else. You saw a smirk appear on Zecira's face and almost regretted asking for a truth.
"Who's a better kisser Niamh or Jessie"
Everyone's heads whipped around to look at you, Niamh almost getting whiplash and Jessie's cheeks burning red. You hesitated to answer because it was such a silly question, well to you at least. You soon realised that maybe hesitating wasn't a great idea because Niamh soon got up and stormed out onto Jessie's balcony.
"Thanks Z"
You went out into the balcony and shut the door, Niamh didn't even turn to look at you, she knew you were there but in the moment she didn't even want to look at you.
"Why'd you hesitate y/n/n?"
"What..? Baby please don't be silly right now. I didn't answer because it's obvious, you're the best kisser out there.. not that I kiss other girls. I mean not that I haven't in the past but you know since you and me, me and you"
Niamh chuckled whilst she turned and cupped your cheek kissing you gently.
"Sweetie shh, I know. I just get jealous sometimes like maybe you could do better than me and Jessie is so amazing and after seeing you kiss earlier it just kind of hit a nerve"
You kissed her again in reassurance
"You know you're cute when you ramble though, I'm sorry I walked out. My emotions are just not as in check as I'd like them to be, what with your backseat driving, losing game night and seeing you kiss my best friend"
"You're just a sore loser Niamhy but you know I only ever want you"
"Well after that lap dance I really want you"
"I'm that good huh?"
"That good" she smirked
"How about we head home and we sort out how emotionally.. and sexually frustrated you are honey"
Niamh didn't need asking twice she grabbed your hand and dragged you back inside. Making some poor excuse about not feeling well and needing to go home and she will make it up to them. With that she shoved you out the door quickly following bundling you into a taxi home.
Your teammates looking at each other knowingly and giggling at Niamh's excuse this time because this happened most game nights.
When you got back home Niamh couldn't unlock the door quick enough, when you finally did get inside you both kicked your shoes off somewhere random on the floor as a tomorrow problem.
Within seconds Niamh had you over her shoulder carrying you to the bedroom, you knew all that extra time she was spending in weight training was paying off.
After kicking the bedroom door closed Niamh dropped you onto the bed making quick work of her clothes and nodding at you to do the same.
Soon both of your sets of clothes were discarded haphazardly on the floor, Niamh signalled for you to move up the bed. You pushed yourself back until your head rested on your pillows and Niamh crawled on the bed above you.
For a second you thought she was having doubts because she hoovered above you staring down admiring the way your lip tucked behind your teeth and your chest heaved with need.
"Baby, if you'd rather not tonight we can cuddle instead"
"NO" she practically yelled
"Sorry, no I want to but I just couldn't help but take you all in, I can't believe you're mine sometimes" admiration dripping off every word.
"Shut up" you giggled and gently slapped her arm. Which flexed under your touch causing your breath to hitch. Niamh smirked knowingly and with that pressed her thigh down into your centre leading to another gasp.
Before long her lips were back on yours deepening the kiss, feeling your tongue run gently against her lower lip. Sighing and relaxing into the kiss. Your fingers scratching gently and the nape of her neck and tangling in the fine hairs there.
Biting your lip and carefully pulling away, her lips attached themselves to your neck slowly trailing up and down sucking on your weak points. Her favourite was just below your ear where your jaw met your neck, she could spend all day there if you let her. Listening to the way your breathing sped up and the small whimpers you made.
Niamh kept her attention there for awhile before sinking lower, peppering your chest with lazy kisses before taking your left peak into mouth and gently sucking and rolling the bud with her tongue. She meant on her elbow and caressed your face whilst swapping to your right breast and paying it the same attention.
Her free hand snaking between your legs making you gasp as she hit the jackpot. Her finger teasingly fuming through your folds causing her to smirk against your chest, mumbling around your nipple causing the vibrations to stir something in your lower stomach.
"So fucking wet for me"
"All for you" your head stretched back against the pillow eyes screwed shut needing more. Tight circles started to be drawn around your clit before gliding back between your folds just before it became too much. She knew your body well and better than yourself sometimes.
Your hands soon found their way into her hair as she kissed her way down your toned stomach and along your inner thighs. She continued to tease you before looking up at you. Two of her digits circling your entrance, she gave you a questioning look which you answered with a small nod.
"Words baby, you know I don't find anything sexier than consent"
"I always want to make sure you enjoy what I do and that you want it as much as me"
"Please Niamhy"
With that she sunk two fingers into you, your back arched slightly and she pressed gentle kisses to your thigh as she worked herself into you. It didn't take long for her to find a comfortable rhythm and it helped with you being so wet.
Then came the sensation of her gently blowing against your clit which made your legs twitch. Before you knew it her tongue was gently aiding her fingers between your legs and darted out of her soft pink lips rapidly as she lapped at your sensitive bud.
Alternating between suckling and flicking her tongue over where you needed her most. More of your juices coated her fingers and with that she slipped in a third which was rewarded with a moan that ripped from deep inside you. Curling her fingers deep inside you whilst you grabbed and her hair pulling her impossibly closer.
"Good girl baby, you're such a good girl for me"
Niamh knew how much you loved being called a good girl during sex and it worked you felt yourself getting closer to your peak.
"That's it baby, you gonna cum for me"
"Pl..please"
"Go ahead"
With a few more thrusts you were coming apart underneath her moaning her name, which she would deny but was a massive ego boost for her.
She then kissed her way back up your body before using her hips to aid in thrusting her fingers harder into you.
"One more please baby"
Before you even had a second to think your eyes went white with pleasure and you felt yourself gush into Niamh's palm.
"Fuckkkkk"
She had the biggest dopiest shit eating grin on her face, so pleased with herself.
"I didn't know you could do that"
"Neither did I" you said shyly
"Please don't be embarrassed, that was so fucking hot"
Kidding you sweetly before asking if you were ready for her to pull out. When you nodded she removed her fingers making your legs twitch slightly as your pussy ached to me touched again after what happened next.
Niamh took her finger into her mouth swirling her tongue around them cleaning every last drop of you off of her digits.
Her lips reconnected with yours before you could even think of something to say, tasting yourself of her lips brought another rush of wetness to your core.
You flipped over your positions straddling Niamh's muscular thigh which she tensed below you. Her hands gently squeezing on your breasts as you ground down. Your sensitive nub bumping along each definition.
"You want more?"
You knew she wasn't judging you and was just more curious about your needs than anything.
"Almost there"
Your hips rutted against her becoming more staggered the closer you got. Collapsing back on top of her after your third orgasm. Groaning in her ear as you came down, only adding to the rush of wetness between her own thighs.
"Your turn" you mumbled sleepily
"Not tonight sweetie you're warm out, let me clean you up"
You didn't argue, you knew she was right and you were too tired to reciprocate. You weren't as worried as you would've been at the start of your relationship because you know that not every time is about give and take and some days it's just better to give than receive and visa versa. Although you'd never turn down your favourite meal. Niamh.
Whilst you were thinking about how lucky you were Niamh came back into the room with a wash cloth and some water for you which you happily sipped as Niamh carefully cleaned you up without trying to overstimulate you.
Once finished you cuddled up under the duvet, entwining your legs with Niamh's only for her to let out a little gasp as your leg connected with her centre by accident.
"What was that?"
"Nnnothing"
"It certainly didn't sound like nothing, you're still worked up aren't you?"
Niamh nodded her head but reiterated that she didn't want any reciprocation because she knew your body was exhausted.
"Fine, I won't touch you but I want you to touch yourself for me"
"Baby no, let's cuddle and get some sleep"
With that you gently cupped her discovering how wet she really was, she rolled her eyes in response.
"Please Niamhy, for me. I want to watch you get off for me"
Niamh didn't make an effort to move.
"It'll be incredibly hot knowing your thinking about me and then tomorrow it's my turn to treat you like a queen"
Niamh sighed knowing you wouldn't let up and knew it would be quicker to get it other with so you could go to sleep.
Niamh slid her fingers between her legs as you pulled back the duvet to watch. Her fingers slipped between her pretty pink lips and sunk into herself. She wasn't one for teasing when it came to herself. She had a job and she wanted to get it done.
"That's it baby add another for me, stretch out that tight pussy for me"
Niamh groaned as she added a second finger her brows furrowing and her lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated on your voice, you wrapped your hand around her wrist so you could feel closer to her enjoying the way her tendons flexed against your fingers with every thrust inside herself.
You didn't know where to look eyes darting back and forth between where her fingers disappeared and the concentrated and determined look on her face.
It didn't take long as she was so worked up
"Please can I cum baby?"
"Hmm I don't know"
"Don't fucking tease me, I'm so close! Please!"
You loved hearing her pleas and beg but tonight you just wanted to see her satisfied.
"That's it baby let go"
Niamh's head snapped back as she released. After a few minutes of catching her breath she disappeared to the bathroom cleaning herself up. She slipped into a pair of your training shorts and one of your old college tees. In return she brought you some of England shorts and a UCLA shirt Jessie had given to her one time after she'd gone back to visit.
She helped you into the clothes before laying down and pulling you onto her chest. Your head resting listing to her chest rise and fall rhythmically, your legs draped over hers. She kissed the top of your head and tucked you both under the duvet.
After awhile you thought she had fallen asleep as her breathing was shallow and steady.
"I love you Niamh"
"I love you too y/n"
"Now get some sleep"
#woso x reader#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso smut#niamh charles#Niamh Charles fic#Niamh Charles smut#jessie fleming#Jessie Fleming smut#Jflem
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Warm - Guro Reiten x Reader
So sorry for not being active for the longest time! I'm not great at balancing work, life, and writing apparently. This is a short one based on today's game. Trying to find my feet again with writing so we'll see how that goes. Kinda a continuation of the Guro fic I wrote a while ago. Let me know what you think.
You had been running throughout the whole game. Nothing was going right. The chances were there, but the end product was not. It felt like confidence was low in the team, and no one wanted to take any risks. It was frustrating. Frida trying to score from afar, Caitlin making striking runs forward, and Kim guiding you all through it. But nothing.
You felt a hand on your forearm as you were waiting for the medics to check on Manu. The rest of the girls had gone over to get some water. You could only stand there with sweat dripping from your face, staring into the distance. What could you do better? You turned to face the gentle touch behind you. Guro. With a soft smile on her face, and gentleness in her eyes. She kept her hand on your forearm.
“You’re playing really well, you know?” Guro offered. You were losing 2-0. You knew you weren’t coming back from it, even with all of the chances. Chelsea were too good. It was only the FA Cup, but it still hurt to lose.
“Could be better.” You chuckled. If there was one person who could make you smile it was Guro. She had a shy smile on her face, almost trying to gauge your reaction. Once she heard the chuckle, Guro’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned closer to you.
“Just think… we’ll be home soon. And we can order some food and watch something on TV together.” Guro suggested.
“No no no. You have to celebrate.” You were adamant. You couldn’t believe her sometimes. She always wanted to make you feel better.
“Well, I don’t want to celebrate beating you in the round of 16. I want to be with you.” She smiled widely at you. The rest of the girls began running onto the pitch ready for the restart. Guro stayed next to you instead of jogging to her position.
“I want you to celebrate.” The smile still etched on your face. It might seem odd to anyone in the crowd that you were smiling while losing 2-0 and on the verge of being knocked out of the FA Cup. But you were with your favourite person in the world.
“Are you kicking me out of the house?” She joked with you, lightly pushing herself into you.
You laughed. She made it look so easy, making you smile and laugh when you didn’t want to. She rubbed the small of your back before jogging to the other side of the pitch. She turned to look back towards you to find you already looking at her with a lovestruck look on your face. Katie barged into you aggressively, a roll of her eyes as you stumbled back into your position. Katie laughed before the whistle blew, the last 10 minutes of the game in play.
The game finished as it was. Still 2-0. You weren’t happy with the performance, even with the number of chances you all had you couldn’t finish them off. It was what it was, but the disappointment still circled you. You were clapping the away crowd with the girls, Stina to your right and Lia to your left. You saw the Chelsea players making their way up to the group of you to shake hands. You saw her walking up to you with a small smile. You met her in the middle of the pitch and hugged her tightly. Despite the loss and the performance, you were incredibly proud of her win and her performance.
“I’m so proud of you. You deserve this so much.” You kissed her neck and dug your face deeper into her as your arms held her closely around her waist.
“Thank you, baby. I love you.” Guro was standing on her tiptoes, hugging you back just as ferociously.
“I love you too.” You still weren’t too happy she didn’t want to celebrate this win, but you were ecstatic she wanted to be with you instead, “So what are we watching tonight?”
Guro laughed as she pulled back from you, her hand returning to your arm, always needing to touch you in some way.
“I’m glad you asked because I really wanted to finish watching that murder documentary we started to watch.”
You smiled lovingly at her. You couldn’t wait to be back home, under blankets, watching anything with this girl who held your heart.
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Since I'm saving up for some things, and working on flexing some specific authorial muscles in advance of a big project, I thought I'd open up fic coms! £10 = 1000 words + however much I feel like continuing on a topic of your choice from this selection.
Not sure how tumblr will handle that image, so, full transcription/ID below:
A comission information sheet styled to resemble a pub menu or catalogue page. The heading reads "Gored Renfields, direct from my nightmares". The menu offers various pre-categorised scenarios, including cannibalism, guro, breeding, sickfic, and impact play.
Directly below the heading is text reading as follows:
BRUTAL SCENES of gore and agony will be wrought upon this man! Unlock your inner Dracula and watch our collective blorbo squirm as he suffers any of the options among this salacious selection. All described in this catalogue have been hand-picked directly from heart-pounding nightmares, and some even discussed in chat! Renfield may be subject to mutilation, mastication, and more as the events in this menu of the macabre unfold, and no inch of him is off- limits! Read through, consider these creations, & pick your- or rather, his- poison. Orders filled within three weeks.
The leftmost column is titled "Cannibalism", and is subdivided into the following options, each of which have an image, title, and subtitle:
Hog Roast. This text is accompanied by a black and white illustration of a roast suckling pig.
Subtitle: Trussed up and served is where Renfield starts this course...
He's the centrepeice of a spectacular meal, bound, gagged, and ready to be served. Spiced with historical dining knowledge and reveling in his inability to scream, this dish is for you if you like cannibalism, propriety rituals, and a good, gory party. Comes in human-on-human, vampire-on-human, and a milder role-play option (v).
Tapped Tree. This text has a black and white illustration of a metal spile, from which a drop of liquid hangs, hammered into a taphole in a tree.
Subtitle: Watch. Him. Bleed.
Did you know that a man of Renfield's height and weight has nearly 6 litres of blood? In this course, you can test this for yourself- watch as a variety of blood-related bad luck befalls our best boy. Is he serving the role of punch bowl at a vampiric soiree? Being drained dry as a punishment for failing to provide for his master? Offered up to the brides of Dracula, in an attempt to make peace? Or some devious scenario of your own creation? Either way, this option is a bloody good time!
Lethal Chef. This is accompanied by an illustration of alice and the cook from Alice's adventures in wonderland.
Subtitle: Most chefs try not to cut their fingers...
Renfield doesn't get the chance. Our favourite chew-toy really becomes one in this dish, wherein he is forced to prepare his own flesh. ALL of his body is available in this option; if he's not flexible enough to reach your favourite cut , someone else will retrieve it for you. Watch as he struggles through slicing, seasoning and searing parts of his own body; soothed by shallow healing or abandoned to your tastes. Options range from a brief, painful episode of autocannibalism, to a day slaving over a hot stove preparing his parts to feed a massive party. The choice is yours with this flexible, delectable form of torment.
Serve man. This is accompanied by an 1800s era illustration of various cuts of beef.
Subtitle: asking the delicate question.
In this world, it's eat or be eaten... This dish allows Renfield, at long last and probably against his will, to join his master in the consumption of human life. Be it snowed-in survival cannibalism or the privilege of sharing in a victim, this is what to order if you want to see Renfield with a mouthful of his kith and kin. There's a thousand ways to serve a cut of meat, and he's available for all of them-be it braised broiled or fresh enough to still be hot, this option sends Renfield to the ultimate culinary frontier.
The centre column is dominated by an outlined box containing the title "Butcher's Block", and a black and white photograph of the backroom of a butcher's shop. Below the photograph is the subtitle "Prime Cuts, Prime Prices!" Can you use into a description reading as follows:
In this à la carte atrocity, watch as Renfield is sectioned off and sold for consumption. You will get your pound of flesh be it back bacon, rump steak, or hawk; as well numerous others in this story! Farm-fresh and withing in agony, this dish features a Renfield being slowly and expertly deconstructed, with a variety of options resulting, including market stalls, wholesale halls, and a glimpse at how the sausage is made. Sprawl him out on the butcher's block in back or portion him out nicely and perfect packaging-this option is the best to really get into the meat of the man.
Below this are two text inserts. They read, in all caps: "amateur anatomist author, expert in pain" and "everything £10; less than a penny per word"
Below this, a section with headings for "scrap auction" and "highest bidder". There are two pictures of auction houses. These share a subtitle, which reads "sell his body, watch him suffer". The description is as follows:
Our dear Renfield is up for auction; standing in front of an audience in watching them assess his worth! Either piecemeal, is in the scrap auction option, or wholesale going to the highest bidder. What has he done to get himself sold? is it a true turning point in his life, or all some game he doesn't know he's playing? in this option, you can find out.
Below this is a section with the heading as you wish (customs). This has the subtitle "what, dear diner, is your will? Build your own, by the word." Below this are pricing options for custom one shots, all of which cost one pound per 100 words comma except the final, which is £20 for 2,500 words.
The lowermost block of the center column is split in half. On the left, is a section titled "inner world", with the subtitle "SCALPEL!" its description reads as follows:
This surgical smorgasbord is perfect for the medically-mine did among us. Rich with detail on organs, operations, and contemporary medical technology, this dish eschews surface-level suffering to explore what Renfield is like on the inside.
On the right, a section titled "Local Ails", with the subheading "Sick and twisted". Its description reads:
Drawing on a degree in immunology in a hundreds-strong Goodreads shelf dedicated to novel set in sanatoriums, this dish explores the horrors of pre-modern medicine, and of a Victorian immune system meeting modern germs. Be it consumption, cholera, or covid, choose this option to see our adored at his most afflicted.
The rightmost and final column is titled "smut". Like the left, it is divided into options. The first of these is titled "blood play", and headed by a Victorian medical illustration of the blood vessels and musculature of the neck, accompanied by the caption "Feel him from the inside". It's description is as follows:
Sex, blood, & rock and roll combine in this option, where Renfield bears his heart and soul in the bedroom. The author turns their anatomical knowledge to the sport of tormenting one R.M, revealing hidden facets, that they might be fucked. Be it woundfucking, knife play, biting or beyond, this is where to look if you like to taste sex and violence in the same bite.
The next title is spare the rod. It is accompanied by a woodcut of a man being flogged with a cat-o'-nine-tails. It has the subtitle "...Or not". Its description reads:
This dish sets this mess of a masochist up with exactly what he needs-a firm hand and a sore arse. In this option you'll find the cane, the tawse, the birch and more. If you want to see Renfield flogged, bound or suspended, ask for this at the counter, and be sure to be specific!
The next title is "Born and bred". It has the subtitle "eating, for two", and there's a company by an 1800 hand-drawn diagram of the anatomy of the uterus. It's description reads:
Knocked Up. Up the duff. In the family way. This option is all about pregnancy, breeding and mating, be that omegaverse, mpreg, or just some good old biologically-impossible kink. Spanning a broad spectrum from keep-coming-in-his-stomach-wound wishful thinking to baby-bumped Renfield bouncing on it and moaning, this option has something for everyone Oscar the counter for our full menu of pregnancy and pregnancy-adjacent kink.
The final category is "NOT IN STOCK (hard NOs), and is headed by a picture of empty supermarket shelves. Below this, it lists "underage, furry, scat, omo, necro" and states that we have the right to refuse service at any point before payment.
#nsft#fic#renfield (2023)#robert montague renfield#dracula#dracfield#guro#fic comissions#yes i know its not allowed shhh universal dont care#mpreg#cannibalism
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🍄🧩🦴
HI MIGHTY
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
I don't really have any..? Ships aren't my thing, not canon ones. I don't really consume any medias where I even think ab the ships within it except for the ones I hate and what's wrong with them
🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?
THESE ARE MY PERSONAL PREFERENCES!! Not indicative of a writer's craft!!!! There's not a lot that makes me not read something, especially content wise
1. But misspelling a word consistently, no paragraph breaks, grammar things like that
2. Injuries not being treated properly, and by treated I don't mean healed. I mean some Blue Eye Samurai kind of stuff, where she gets rebar through the foot and just, keeps walking. Bullets barely making a limp, knocking someone out with a weapon and them having a mild concussion at best. No stretching or PT or creams for scarring, especially burn scarring. I can understand why that might not all be included but I enjoy a lot of realism for that kind of thing
3. Improper tagging. Should be given, I think. But a year ago, there I was. Maybe ten chapters into a smut fic. And bam there's guro and necrophilia in the latest one, not a tag or warning about it to be seen. Only when I come back days later bc of another update is it finally tagged, AFTER the chapter had went up. I understand going with the flow for things, but you should have a general idea of the events that will transpire. I know Butterfly Effect will have death, injuries, mutilation, torture, etc before I even wrote those plot points, bc thats the writer I am and bc I know how dark ill let it go. If there's something new, like recently I had to add the limb loss tag(we'd already wrote it I'd just forgot to add the tw) I update it immediately, even though I know it won't show up for many chapters
4. Stupid readers. NO braincells. Either too fuckin dumb to realize what other characters are lying about and thus start a miscommunication trope, or they keep trying to run/escape from, say, yan or villain characters. That is how you die, and I can't put myself into the mind of a dumbass, I'm sorry I can't
🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?
Oh god. So much. I'm afraid I'm not as creative as some people think. CAS, all TMNT, atla, Fire-Us, adventure time, and so many more. I specifically want to mention Fire-Us, though. A book series no one's read but me apparently, but there's just. So much. My love for drama, for scenic composition, large dynamic groups, family angst, killing off characters, leaving endings and deaths up to interpretation. Not showing every little action bc what the reader can imagine can often be so much better
#sorry i rambled so much#yap alert#the tagging thing makes me so angry though#and i also read a fic recently where they misspelled turtle the same way every single time#anywho#THANK YOU FOR THE ASK YIPPEE#gornack ask game#gornack ask tag
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Saying this once and on this blog because the topic is literally the most relevant here—
If you think even for a SECOND that censorship of AO3 won’t include openly queer spaces, you’re so fucking wrong it hurts.
Does nobody remember the Purges of the early-to-late 2000’s? Does nobody remember the FanFiction.net Purge? The Tumblr Porn Ban? Fanfic history is about to repeat itself if we don’t step up to try and stop it.
Censorship of any kind will not end with just the issue that it claims to fix. It will encompass everything in the name of “dear heavens, won’t someone please think of the children!”
That’s not to say I don’t think removing any content is bad - there are circumstances that allow for content removal simply because it’s too gross or too disturbing for the general public’s eye. But you need to understand that they will not stop once it’s gone.
There are already ways to report the nasty shit and get it taken off the site. There are already ways you can avoid it if you feel very strongly about it or if it’s a triggering subject. As an sa and sh survivor myself there are certain topics that I always have filtered just for my own mental health. And guess what? It works. I’ve never come across something poorly tagged that triggers relapses. AO3’s tagging system works.
It won’t just be the problematic elements such as cp or graphic guro. It will spread to queer fic, stories of trans discovery, even of someone just living their life in a fur suit because they find enjoyment out of it! Your niches will not be safe! Nobody will be!
Maybe I’m just jaded and upset because I was old enough to remember - and experience - the bans. I remember how devastating it was to self-expressive works of art, to people just writing smut because they want to.
Do you honestly want the site you love to be so censored the fucking CCP looks like a paradigm of freedom of expression? Do you honestly not care that hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of people’s work, majorly non-problematic, will be affected?
If you’re about to bemoan the fact that this sounds super melodramatic and that I’m ‘overreacting’, then fine. Good for you. But the issue can not be overstated. We are heading in a truly dark direction of fandom history that unfortunately holds echoes of what we’ve gone through before. And the fact that some are defending TG’s desires? Even knowing she’s a bad faith actor who doesn’t give a shit about fandom culture? Makes me want to throw up.
Anybody about to accuse me of being a pedophile just because I don’t support breaking something that’s already designed - and proven - to work for those who want to use it is very welcome to just block me. I am not a pedophile for wanting a (legally sound) smut-safe space. I’ve seen y’all throwing that around like a frisbee at a picnic, and let me just say as an actual abuse survivor I think you’re full of shit and you need to get off the internet.
Do the right thing. Do what you can to stop Tiffany G from being elected.
Rant over. I’m fucking exhausted.
#ao3#censorship#tiffany g#ao3 culture#ao3 censorship#fandom problems#she speaks#otw elections#purity culture
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happy wincest wednesday! i would love to hear your thoughts on monster sam and/or dean and how their dynamic would be the different (or, the same!)
i have been turning this over in my mind for the last 12 hours anon, thank you for the interesting ask and happy ww! there are so many ways this could go – depending on the monster, WHO'S the monster, and how did they BECOME the monster. here's a few scenarios, in which the answer largely comes around to...they stay just as codependent, it just manifests in different ways.
sam AND dean monsters: same dynamic, just with more guro (Y) there was this star wars fic i read a bajillion years ago where obi-wan and anakin get captured and brainwashed by palpatine into being these killing machines who are only able to function with each other, everybody calls them 'the twins' and is scared of them... it's that vibe, yk.
sam monster (from childhood): let's say the azazel blood manifests in a different way. the child starts showing demonic traits and powers as they grow up. john, despite everything, really does love the boys, and i DON'T think he'd be willing to give sam up despite this, especially as a child. i do think he might work sam even harder to become a weapon against azazel. maybe isolating him further and forbidding him to go to school? at which point dean declares he isn't going, etc. etc. so i think it draws the family into more social isolation and codependence. dean would be even more protective, yet used to his brother's demonic tendencies. and willing to indulge him. ALTHOUGH, i think sam would try his best to suppress them. all in all, same same but different.
dean monster (turned): let's say he gets turned on a hunt. i think dean turns tail and runs. self-hating. stays alive to kill his own kind. i love thinking about him as a vampire because of live free or twi-hard. dean would lurk in the shadows and spy on sam but stay away "for sam's safety" despite knowing something is deeply wrong with his brother. work with crowley to fix him from the shadows. when sam gets his soul back, dean hides. if sam catches up to him, he begs to be turned, because if dean is a monster then they both are.
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So I have an idea for a OC-centric Assassin's Creed fic that's set during the Philippine Revolution (the Spanish-era one) and I'm probably never gonna write it so might as well lay it out here anyway:
Modern Day setup is a random Filipino-Canadian dude (let's call him Ray) getting a job in UbisoftAbstergo Entertainment in Montreal. He boots up the Animus and checks out his ancestry (which is now the norm for any Abstergo employees working the Entertainment branch, it's considered bragging rights to have your ancestor be a candidate for a new game) so he's just sifting through his ancestry, checking out who his ancestors are when he loads a memory of a young man just having fun with his mates back in Spain. They're talking about making plans to publish their own newspaper to enlighten their people and open the eyes of the Spaniards to the inequality between Spain and one of its colonies.
The paper that would later be known as La Solidaridad.
It's an okay memory. Nothing too fancy in the eyes of this newbie who was born and raised in Canada and, yeah, sure he knows his mom was a Filipino, and he knows Tagalog (some of it anyway) but he doesn't understand the significance of any of these men, of what they tried to do.
He skips some of the next memories.
Then one of the dudes (who has some subtext with Ray's ancestor) invites him to come back to the Philippines with him, to create La Liga Filipina as part of the Propaganda Movement.
He agrees and, days later, his friend is being arrested and deported to Dapitan.
He tries to save his friend but his friend says no, something about how his death may save their nation. Instead, his friend gives him a brooch and tells him to find a Spanish-Filipino man only known by the name Guro. He finds this man who tells him that his friend had been a close ally of the Assassin Brotherhood. That his arrest wasn't just because they were pushing for equal rights for the Filipino people but because the Templars learned of his affiliation. Days later, his friend dies and he becomes part of the Brotherhood, to avenge his friend, which leads him to join forces with the Katipunan.
Ray thought it was interesting so he sent the first few memories to his boss. The next morning, he's getting kidnapped by people in hoods who tells him that he shouldn't access any more of those memories. That Abstergo wants more than just a nice premise for a game. He gets saved by another person in a hood. A young woman who delivers him back to Abstergo where a man by the name of Berg tells him about how his ancestor had been in possession of a certain artifact and that he needs to look into the other memories of his ancestor to find where he hid this artifact.
He's kept in Abstergo Entertainment 24/7, being told it's for his own protection because of the people who tried to capture him.
And while he's reliving his ancestor's memories, he starts to bleed as him.
And the one who helps him through the bleed is the woman who saved him from getting kidnapped and taught him how to control the bleed. A woman who enjoyed singing sea shanties.
He reaches the part where the Americans 'save' the Philippines from Spanish rule but with tremendous losses. Before he can continue, he's yanked out of the Animus and the woman kills the people monitoring his sessions before she explains that she's been a double agent all along. That she's been using Abstergo's focus on his session to slowly download a large amount of data that Abstergo keeps on their server. All of the data of Sample 17. She asks him if he wants to stay here with the Templars or try his luck with the Assassins.
And Ray, propelled by the memories and feelings of his ancestors, joins her in breaking out from Abstergo's facility.
Unorganized Notes:
The initial name for Ray's ancestor is Miguel Palomo and he's meant to either be half-Filipino half-Spanish or an illegitimate son of a Spanish officer with one of his 'local' servants. Palomo is a common Spanish name that means either pigeon or dove.
Ray is short for Raynaldo, not Raymond
In case it wasn't clear, his ancestor was bff (maybe more???) with Jose Rizal
Jose Rizal didn't mean for the revolution to happen, many experts even say that he didn't want such bloodshed (the entire premise of the Propaganda Movement is to make the Philippines of equal footing to Spain while staying part of Spain and many of them even use the term fatherland and motherland to describe the Philippines and Spain)
There is a female assassin in his memories who is only known as Maya. She seems to know Rizal and may or may not be the real inspiration of the character Maria Clara as she may or may not be the illegitimate child of a Spanish priest
(there's a lot of illegitimate children in this fic by Spanish dudes. it's kinda a thing back then)
The name of the doubleagent who helps Ray is most definitely going to be Atoli and the name itself is meant to hint her Assassin background (Atoli in Japanese is written as アトリor 花鶏 which is the Japanese word for the Brambling bird)
Atoli is bleeding because she's part of the Animi Training Program, specifically, she bleeds as Shay Cormac
The artifact in question is actually part of the brooch Rizal gave Miguel and the location of the rest are hinted in the letters he wrote during his time in Dapitan (letters that have been confiscated by the guards and given to the Templars)
The Spanish government of the Philippines is full of Templars and Templar allies
The Templars also supervised the selling of the Philippines to the Americans as a way to throw off the Assassins in Europe and America from taking interest in the Philippines
I might hint at Aguinaldo having Templar ties or maybe coming to the side of the Templars and that's the reason why Bonifacio was arrested
Antonio Luna and other members of the Propaganda Movements will make an appearance one way or another (and Antonio Luna's death by being assassinated by his own men will be hinted)
Miguel will also help his other friends who got arrested during the revolution to leave the Philippines (Mariano Ponce) and is secretly helped by his other friends who cannot publicly help the Katipunan (Marcelo H. del Pilar who was dying by then, the Luna brothers)
To be completely honest, this is meant to have a bittersweet/depressing ending because, in the end, everything Miguel did was for nothing. The Philippines just changed masters and it would be decades before the country can truly say they were independent
#there are many reasons why i cannot write this#mainly because my memory of philippine history is more or less barebone#miguel's story is meant to be a more depressing version of connor's#ray's story is meant to be a more 'maybe the same maybe not' version of desmond's#without the whole chosen one thing#there's a corrupt priest in this one too because that's part of the course#there's a reason why the philippines made the separation of state and church clear#i want to add a canon assassin but the timeline of the philippine revolution makes that hard#everyone is gay for jose rizal#i dont make the rules#assassin's creed#fic idea: assassin's creed#oc#my oc story
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I almost want to ask a commentary for that one really dark fic you wrote. But, I'll ask for the one you wrote for me that I absolutely adore still, Split Open and Laid Out 💜💜💜
(fic writer commentary meme)
quick & dirty commentary on the cannibalism fic (because I assume that’s the one you meant, and I think it’s hilarious that it gained such status as a symbol of the horrors of fandom among a particular set, when really it’s not even that bad imo):
my kink bingo card in 2012 had a “guro” square
my fandom at the time, kanjani8, has one member who really likes to eat
It was so easy to write, I just wrote it out in the same way I would a sex scene: act by act, feeling by feeling (this is also the way I trained myself to be able to write passable fight scenes)
end of commentary, I still stand by this fic 100% lol
NOW onto what you actually asked for, commentary for Split Open and Laid Out:
Okay so, a little bird had told me you were having a bad time, and I had prior knowledge of your enjoyment of exhibitionist!John as a concept, and what are fandom friends for if not providing nasty smut on a bad day? I wrote most of this on my phone during lunch at work, while walking around to the park and back to the office (and being waylaid by a coworker when I was really just getting to the good part, lmao). I did a quick version which I sent at the end of lunch hour, and then just felt compelled to edit it into something of posting length because like…this is a good concept!!
I, personally, absolutely love writing a good jerk-off fic, and honestly the AMTDI concept is like, such a great sexy fandom contrivance that I have loved and wanted to try out for myself, sooo, this seemed like a good time for it.
Anyway, the hook for this story is that John’s freaked out about jacking off in front of the aliens because he knows he’s going to like it too much, and that is just far too vulnerable of a place to put himself in, right? Which just feels very John to me--if it was something he hated he'd have no problem enduring it, but the thought of showing so much of himself (figuratively and literally I guess lol) is just so much for him to handle which makes it all the more heightened.
I’m pretty sure the image came to me in that vivid way such images do: John on his knees, his legs tied and spread open. It felt important for him to be seeking out his team as well, seeking out their approval (he’s doing this for them, after all, right?), and equally important that they give him that approval. I also really wanted to write Ronon and Rodney providing him with that sort of half-knowing aftercare which he would 100% need and absolutely never ask for.
So I actually had two different endings in mind for this? The first is the one that it’s posted with. In the second, the scene ends and John steps out of a VR chamber—either having been in there by himself, or actually having acted out this fantasy with the rest of the team. I really like both options, but I decided to go with something straightforward and just leave some implications for what would come after.
Anyway I think it's up to the reader whether the team bring John back to Atlantis and then give him a hand at working out some of his kinks in a safe space or if he just will jack off to this particular moment for the rest of his life, but personally I like to think they got the message.
#fic rambles#ask meme#my wife having to explain to her friends that she was marrying the person who wrote that cannibalism fic#probably an ultimate moment of my life lmao
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i sort of went down a rabbit hole when i was clearing out my likes and kept seeing like, sort of guro stuff and then i got inspired to do a small blood play fic....just gonna tag @mischiefs-hawk @starboundanon @thewriterowl cause i feel like yall would enjoy it 👁️👄👁️
maybe...idk lol. it is Luke & Vaderkin but it could be read as something else.
tw: consensual blood play (non-sexual), intense relationships/force-bond, biting (to the point of drawing blood), slight blood licking
“Father?” He turned at the sound of Luke’s soft voice, whispering so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it. Vader stared at the young man before him; looking like some sort of odd mirror to himself. Luke had come into being the prince of the empire. Of course, he would never be able to take that little farm boy out of his son, but he loved him nonetheless. Vader would never let him go- not anymore. Those few days of chasing him down after Bespin just made him realize how much Luke needed to be taken care of. The blonde could barely function without him; and as much as Luke loved those little friends of his, they clearly could not keep his little sparrow safe.
“Yes Luke?” His son blushed all the way up to his forehead. Anytime he used his name, he would react like that. Of course, Vader made an effort to use his name as much as possible. His little one fidgeted for a few moments while the soft Nabooian sunlight filtered through the open windows beside them. Taking up residence there was the best idea he had come up with in quite some time; the greenery perfect for his sparrow. It appears Luke was destined to love nature just as much as his mother. Finally, after a few moments of quiet, Luke looked up through his soft bangs. He pulled a small knife out of his pocket- and at first Vader felt a rush of panic. Alas, it faded just as fast as it had appeared. His little one would never try to hurt him. They had long past gotten over Luke’s escape attempts.
“I…” He paused before taking a few steps closer to him. “I want you to…” Luke trailed off to a quiet whisper that Vader could not catch. So, he felt as though the hallway was too public, even if the two of them were the only ones around. He turned and walked Luke into the blonde’s quarters. Now that they were alone, Luke looked around and seemed to grow more confident at the new location. He glanced around for a few more seconds before finally looking back at his father. “I want you to…I want you to cut me with this!” He rushed out the last of the words while pressing the blade into Vader’s larger hands.
Utter silence followed. Vader’s mind was going a thousand miles a minute; frantic fear and panic mixed with a sense of delight and utter pleasure. His eyes moved back up Luke’s body and found his sparrow grabbing the front of his light colored tunic in a show of beautiful embarrassment. “It- well I- you don’t have to I just-“
“Yes.”
“Huh?” Vader would over look the undignified response of his prince and nod towards the soft carpet right beneath the window that poured in wonderful natural light. His little prince was just like a Tooka that bathed and napped in the warm sun; Vader found him curled up napping on the floor right there before so he assumed it would be a good place to do what they were about to do. It would relax Luke more than anything else. Obviously, Luke had not expected him to say yes to his request judging by the jerky way he walked over to the carpet and then laid down. Vader followed slowly after; calming himself down as well.
Once there, he knelt beside his sparrow who had pulled up his tunic to expose his soft stomach. Some of the boniness of his body was still there; Those months in the rebellion where he clearly barely ate. Vader tried to rectify that by having Luke three meals a day and it seemed to be doing the job for the most part. “Here.” Luke whispered as he motioned towards the left side of his stomach- the side Vader was kneeling by. “Whatever you want.” He breathed and watched through half lidded eyes as Vader moved the blade in his hand.
He went to begin the cut since it seemed as though his sparrow was ready; however, Luke reaching up and grabbing his wrist stopped him. “Could you…could you take both your gloves off?”
“It is not pretty my love.” He could only rumble out those words.
Alas, his Luke would always throw him for a loop. “I love all of you. I want you to feel comfortable with me.” The overflowing love he felt in that moment for the petite young man lying before him rushed out; his body was on autopilot for he leaned over and pressed a kiss up Luke’s eyelids, moved to press a kiss to his cheeks, then moved once again; kissing the spot he was about to gently carve into.
“Anything for you Luke.” Vader watched him flush again, his blue eyes narrowing in on Vader’s hands as he removed the gloves; exposing his mismatched hands. From there he reached down and traced the pattern he wished to make with the blade- Luke gasping from the sensation of Vader’s metal finger barely touching his skin. “I will start now.” He whispered.
The first bit of blood had both reacting; Luke gasping in what could only be described as pleasure and Vader groaning over top of him. It was nearly too much for him- the vision of the blood so delicately dripping both left and right against his tanned skin. He continued to carve the shapes he had in mind while keeping a close eye on Luke’s reaction.
He was panting, eyes glossing over and flush growing higher and higher on his cheeks. Vader himself could easily admit he was affected as well. A heat he had not felt in years zipped through him; the vision of Luke gasping and bleeding on the floor forever seared into his mind.
Again, he curved the blade against the tanned skin and was enchanted by the blood that began to bubble to the surface as the skin split so gently. It was red, so red, and shiny. He did not realize what he was doing until his tongue was brushing against Luke’s stomach; against the wonderful skin that had been split- against the beads of crimson blood that ran along the straight and curved lines.
When Luke’s small hands gripped into Vader’s locks, the older man did not hold back the low growl in his throat. It was bubbling that fire in his stomach; the embers roaring to life. He bit along the cuts that flowered on Luke’s stomach- some bites so hard that blood dripped into his mouth from that as well.
One more deep breath and suck of blood against Luke’s skin and Vader sat back on his heels to find Luke’s legs bent at the knees and his toes curled in pleasure.
“A little more? Please…” He put the blade back in Vader’s hands and he knew he had to finish the design. There were only a few more lines he had to cut but they were just as intoxicating as the rest- blood hypnotizing him until he was done.
Once finished, Luke looked absolutely exhausted in the best way possible. His eyes were completely closed with a small smile on his face. In the sunlight, he looked like a bloodied angel and Vader felt a twist in his chest. Luke felt so safe, so trusting in Vader’s care that he allowed him to do this.
“I love you my little sparrow.” He whispered, kissing Luke’s forehead; his little blonde already fast asleep in the knowledge that his father would take care of him and keep him safe.
#fic#writing#tw blood#tw dark fic#dark fic#luke skywalker#vaderkin#almost wrote vaderking lol#dead dove do not eat
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the sniffles. | Guro Reiten
category: fluff with a pinch of angst.
summary: where Guro is sick during the first week of the world cup and you try to look out for her.
word count: 4.6k
a/n: i watched the travel day video and she was sniffling, as in this gif, and my immediate fucking terribly creative not brain just went; sick fic.
Travelling was never not going to be on the list when deciding to become a professional footballer, although it was a period to dread.
You could withstand 1-5 hour journeys, coach, plane or train, but over 24 hours in a small tightly compacted seat was not on your to do list.
It wasn’t on your girlfriend’s either, not exactly keen on sitting in one place for so long, you knew you’ll be having to do some distracting to stop her from fidgeting every 2 seconds.
However, you all knew discomforts come when journeying to great things, it’s never known to be a breeze, as well as the mishaps that happen a long the way.
The first one being; not able to wake your grumpy girlfriend up.
“Guro. I’m not going to tell you again, if you want to miss the world cup, that’s on you. Get up.” You told her for the 12th time this early morning, rushing around the small hotel room as you gathered up all of each others belongings as she laid asleep.
You lifted your head from your suitcase, gaping at her cosied figure in disbelief as she made no movement nor noise.
“I am going to have a full on meltdown...” You murmured to yourself as you chucked a pair of socks so hard into your bag they bounced back out again. “Guro!”
You lunged over the luggage before ripping the duvet from the end of the bed, finally getting a response as she moaned and sat up slightly to reach for it again although your chucked it on the floor before she could.
“Up! We’re going to miss breakfast, or even the flight, if you don’t hurry your ass, up!” You clapped your hand together as you watched her lift her body weight up to sit on the mattress, rubbing her eyes slightly as she pouted.
Your heart couldn’t help but warm at the action, sleepy Guro was always the cutest and her expression made you want to wrap her up into a caccoon, you hated to disturb her.
“Hey, you conscious?”
“Yeah..” She squeaked as she shuffled to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching for your glass of water that was the only one that still held its contents.
“Are you okay?” You asked, concerned as she downed the glass, stopping your actions to keep an eye on her for a second.
“Mhm.. just tired and a bit bunged up but i’m okay.” She sniffled, as she forced a fake smile through her heavy eyelids.
“Go get yourself ready, i’ll do the bags. There’s ibuprofen in there still, take two of them.”
She nodded half heartedly as she made her way through the puzzle you’ve made on the floor, turning the light on before starting her routine.
She kept the door open as she did so, which didn’t stop you from glancing at her every second, unhelpful to the amount you still needed to pack.
After about thirty minutes or so, you had finally gotten the bags on their wheels the right side up whilst Guro sat on the edge of the bed, trying desperately to keep herself upright.
Normally you would have felt annoyed at the lack of help but her distant face made you want to do anything and everything for her out of sympathy.
Your hands on her cheeks made her snap out of her dream, sighing as she leaned in to them before you bent down.
“No. I don’t want you to catch anything.” She twisted her head away from yours whilst trying to keep your touch, her cheeks squished slightly.
“A forehead kiss will not affect me.” You smiled while doing as you said before tucking the little flyaways behind her ears. “Ready?”
You held your hand out for her, pulling her slightly to a stand before guiding her downstairs to meet the others.
Upon entering the food area, you both paved your way towards the coffee machine, standing together with your hand on the small of her back.
“Do you feel alright? Take your jumper off, you look hot.” You eyed her up and down as you took in her posture, eyebrows furrowing at her clear discomfort.
“I always do.” She shrugged with a spiritless smile, glancing at you before returning her gaze back on the coffee filling up her mug.
“I know, very funny.. but seriously.”
“I’m okay, i’m a bit chilly actually.” She reassured as she took her mug in her hand, carrying it back to your table carefully with you trailing behind with yours.
You placed yours on the table but kept stood up, watching as Guro did the same.
“Sit down, i’ll get something, anything you fancy?”
“Maybe just some granola with yogurt.. and fruit maybe.” She looked up from where she perched on the edge of her seat, a sheepish smile forming on her face from your care. “Takk.”
“What’s with Y/N being your personal assistant?” One of your teammates, Emilie, asked from across the table sipping on her water as she stared at Guro questionably.
“She offered.” She sniffled before watching the realisation drown out her friends worry, hinting onto why you both are stuck to the hip at the moment.
She didn’t dare mention what she realised though.
Guro doesn’t like being told what she doesn’t want to be told, being ‘sick’ is one of them.
Every time you mention the possibility she becomes blindsided and grumpy at your accusation, even though what your saying is normally true. She didn’t like to be incapable, she was an independent person and a pinch of a hint of doing everything for her in an act of taking care of her, annoyed her.
You return was detected by Guro when you placed a bowl of all sorts of what she asked for in front of her, more options of breakfast items for her to choose also.
You left her again for a few minutes after placing a kiss to the top of her head, going off to get what you wanted.
The plain state of a variety of food to choose from made it obvious to what you were doing, what she didn’t like; you babying her.
Once you returned she gave you a glare and you reacted to it like a deer caught in head lights, no idea what she was insinuating.
“What?”
“I don’t need all this? I asked for one thing.” She told you, an irritated look on her face as she sat up straight.
“I gave options, i thought you’d like more of the stuff they had out so i put it on the side. If you don’t want it..” You rambled, confused at Guro’s change of tone.
“No. No, sorry.. i’m being silly. Thank you.” Guro softened at your look, yourself panicking slightly whilst figuring out what was wrong with what you did, making her feel a little guilty.
She grabbed hold of your hand under the table, threading her fingers in between yours, three small squeezes followed before she focused on eating.
You saw her nibble at the bits you gave her, whilst you chatted to your teammates around you, Guro only perking up when asked a question, even so not giving an incredible answer.
You leant an elbow on the back of her chair, hand rubbing her shoulder in an act of consolation as you ducked your head towards her gaze, unsure on what to do.
She gave you a reassuring smile before pushing her chair back, getting up and rounding the table with a hand brushing over your own shoulders.
“Is she okay? She’s rather quiet.” Ada commented from next to you, expression just as troubled as yours.
“Yeah. Just tired i guess, todays not a particular day to be excited for.”
“Fair enough.” She shrugged before changing the subject, however your focus was on the fact that Guro was taking a bit too long for your liking, peering at the door every time you stopped talking.
“Excuse me, sorry.” You interrupted, hands surrendered as you caved in to go find Guro, grimacing at your impoliteness.
“It’s okay.”
After 5 minutes of analysing the whole hotel for your where’s wally girlfriend, you found her slumped over yours and hers bag with your wash kit in her hands.
You cleared your throat at her as she didn’t notice your presence, continuing to search through your belongings.
“Hey.”
“You scared me.” She whipped her head up to face you, hand on her heart.
“What are you doing looking through my stuff, missus?” You tried to interrogate, although your smile broke at your girls pout.
“You don’t have any throat lozenges?” She whined, sniffling in the moment also.
“Well.. i didn’t plan on having a cold unlike someone, no i don’t.” You crouched down beside her as you sympathised, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you took your stuff back in your possession. “I could go ask if anyone else has any?”
“No! I’m fine, i can withdo.”
“Kay, we can get some at the airport when we get there, that is if you still want them.” You negotiated whilst zipping your bag back up before standing up straight, reaching both hands out to offer Guro help to her feet.
She nodded as she brushed out her tracksuit before she collapsed into you, moaning as she buried her head in your chest.
You sighed as she clung on to you, arms securely wrapped round her shoulders whilst you nuzzled your lips against the crown of her head, before spotting your teammates making their way to you out of the corner of your eye.
“I think we’re leaving now, you alright to carry your bags?” You unwrapped your arms from around her although she stayed kept, moving her head to face the other side of you to avoid your teams stare.
“Mhm.”
“Come on, elsker fugler, we’re going to the world cup!” You heard the voice of another Guro as she wrapped her arms around you both, squeezing you all into a tight hug.
Once you were all on the coach to the airport, Guro’s spirits were lifted slightly as you all joked around at the back of the bus, laughing at ada’s misfortunes.
However you could tell she was getting irritated whenever she sniffled, the wheeze appearing whenever she laughed and the clearing of her throat made her wince. It was definitely not what she needed whilst travelling to such an important tournament.
The bus all calmed down after a while, hushed conversations between each other as you felt Guro’s weight fall onto you, bit by bit.
She kept making noises with her throat, trying desperately to cover up a cough that was brewing and you leant towards your bag at the sign, retrieving a water bottle you had filled up for her and placing it in her lap.
She sipped at if for a few minutes before planting it on the table in front of her, ultimately to lay her head down in your lap and lay across the seats in between you and ada.
“Comfy, Guro?” Ada joked, patting her leg as she raised an eyebrow at the koala type attitude.
“Ja.”
“You guys are sick, some people are still single here.” Another one of your teammates who was opposite you, exaggerated.
“You can lay down on my lap too if you’d like?” You quipped back, a smirk on your face as you plaited a strand of your girlfriends hair.
Guro was properly asleep by the time your arrived at the airport, you hated to disturb her as she got the opportunity for a slither of peace, and you knew this flight would be horrific.
You gently stroked her cheek as you ducked your head, hair hiding you both from your friends, before you lightly shook her shoulder.
“Kjære..”
“I think sleeping made it worse.” Her eyes watered as she spoke, heavily congested. You cringed at her lack of voice.
“Come on, the quicker we do it the quicker we can relax.” You bargained knowing that the airport process was going to be long and sore.
The check in and security was tough, not only were the queue’s about the length of a car park but you also had a half asleep adult figure leaning against you at every stand still and by the time you were in the duty free area, you were sweating, fanning your passport across your face whereas Guro shivered next to you, passing her your stray hoodie to cover herself up with.
Before your gate was called, you had managed to get some things for the journey, some to help with her cold and some food to snack on. You also had managed to find her only bearable flavour of a throat sweet too.
“Look what i found.” You announced as you returned to her, whom was snuggled up on one of the uncomfortable airport chairs by the gate.
She slowly looked up underneath hooded eyes, finding you with the desired medicated sweet which put a relieved smile on her face.
She held her hand out for the packet, however you began to open it yourself. She furrowed her eyebrows as you did so, seeing you only take one out and placed it in her hand.
“Why can’t i have the whole packet?” She questioned as she laid her hand in her lap, the little packaged sweet still there.
“Because, Guro… I know what you’re like with them, you’ll eat them like they’re normal candy.” You told the truth, in the past you had always left a packet on her bedside table and by the time you went to check on her next, the whole packet was ripped up.
“No.”
“No?” You shook your head in disbelief. “Just eat that one.”
“Fine.”
You boarded the plane with her hand in yours and luckily you were sat next to each other. Letting her have the window seat you allowed her in first, passing her things from inside your bag before lifting it up in the overhead carrier.
During those few seconds, your girlfriend had managed to find the wanted packet again, plopping another one in her mouth as she watched what you were doing.
You slammed shut the cupboard before shuffling in, almost sensing what Guro had done with the look on her face. She gave it away by continuing to suck on it, yourself raising an eyebrow as she gave you a guilty look.
“Gu, what did i say? You’ll make it worse.” You sternly let out, expression coaxed in a serious manner.
“But it helps.”
“Well, don’t moan at me later when you can’t feel your mouth.”
The whole flight was tiring to Dubai, although unable to actually suppress that feeling by trying to get to sleep as Guro did perfectly next to you.
Arriving at the hotel for the night, she insisted that she wanted to stay in your room and sleep rather than go down for dinner and you left her be, confirming that she’ll be okay on her own.
You brought her up some food when you were finished and she nibbled at it, sat crossed legged on the bed as you got ready for the night.
“Guro, you need to eat, you barely touched the plane food.”
“I am eating.” She held up the piece of bread she was picking apart, not making an effort to look at you.
“Please, for me. A little more?” You perched on the end of her bed, pushing the plate a bit closer to encourage her.
“Not hungry.” She squeaked as she pushed it back, crumbs falling into her lap as she focused her attention back on her piece of bread.
“Guro.. if you don’t eat a third of that plate i will tell Hege that you can’t play on thursday.”
“You dont mean that.” Her eyes snapped up to yours, voice small as she froze.
“Want to find out? Eat.”
She managed to do what you asked, even if she ignored you with a pout on her face afterwards you could rest easier knowing that she’s got a partially full stomach.
The flight to New Zealand was better than the previous, you had managed to sleep a few hours of it no matter how many times Guro sneezed and sniffled next to you.
You got off the plane with the dedication of getting to your next destination, wanting to finally be over with the travelling and to relax with your Guro by yourselves for as long as possible.
Hood up and bags under your eyes you paved your way through the airport control, the repetition of the same process made you agitated and the slow rounding of the carousel locked your jaw.
“Guro, i swear.. stop sniffling and go blow your nose.” You spoke through gritted teeth, finger and thumb pinching your nose before rubbing your hand down your face.
“I don’t have any tissues, i can’t.” Her voice was hoarse as she shrugged you off, arms crossed as her eyes turned square by the constant circling of suitcases.
“Go to the bathroom and do it then, it’s annoying me.”
“Sorry that i’m sick, can’t really help it.” She spat.
“Wow you finally admit that?” You mention, scoffing as she rolled her eyes and moved away.
You sighed as you stared at her back, trudging towards where you told her to go, nearly missing one of the suitcases as suddenly everything progressed a bit faster.
She ignored you once again, both of you too stubborn to say anything to each other as you sat on the coach to go to your final hotel, cringing at every sniffle you heard again and again.
She split from you as soon as she got through the doors and you found that you weren’t rooming with her, instead you all had your own rooms which you didn’t know how to feel about.
Guro had finally gave in from the radio silence the morning after, clinging to you the whole off day, not bothering to go and explore auckland straight away and rather cuddled in her room, watching some random movie that was on the one of the Kiwi channels.
She had kept reassuring you that she was feeling better, putting on a brave face whenever there was a training session but you kept an eye on her and you could clearly tell she was lying, although you didn’t mention anything and carried on like normal because you didn’t need another dispute.
When the time came for the opening game against New Zealand, it was obvious that Guro would be apart of the starting line up and, thinking about the team, you weren’t sure whether you should say something about her illness.
She was white as a ghost and you weren’t the only one who noticed, Ada making eye contact with you from across the changing room as she nodded towards the girl next to you.
You shrugged in reply before tugging on your training top before you scanned your eyes over your girlfriends stance once again before realising she was struggling.
“Stop, let me do it.” You tapped the bench next to you as she sat upright, lifting her feet in front of you so you could tie her laces.
“You can’t play, Kjære.” You mumbled as you knotted up her other lace, not bothering to look at her.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think i mean? Your sick and your not fit enough to play to your usual standards.”
“Bullshit. You can’t make every decision for me. I am my own person, by the way, you don’t know what i’m feeling only i do and i can assure you; i’m fine. Stop telling me what i can and can’t do!” She stood up and shuffled away from you, face fallen with betrayal.
“Guro, i’m saying what’s best for you and the team..” You looked around the room, hoping that you’re not causing a scene. You didn’t need any more added to the pre game nerves.
“I. can. play.” She leant closer to you as she hissed her words out and you stared at her with no emotion, letting out a huff of air as she left you.
During the warm up, you were split from Guro, not bothering to make an effort to even check on her. You knew what you were saying was right which meant you didn’t feel any guilt for trying to stop her being apart of the match, if she wanted to suffer that was on her.
Maren grabbed your arm in the tunnel as you made your way back, twisting towards her, confused.
“She can’t play.”
“I know, Maren, but i can’t do much about it. I’ve already tried.. you could try but she won’t listen to you. She’s adamant she’s fit to start.” You bit your lip as you shrugged, picking at the sleeve of your under layer.
“She’s may cost us the game if she doesn’t perform, it could affect her for the rest of the tournament.” Your captain exasperated, eyes full of concern for how this game is going to go.
“And i don’t know what to do to change her mind, i’m sorry.”
“No, im sorry i know you cant do everything. At least you had a go, we all know how stubborn she is.” She sighed as she focused on how tired you were, bringing you into her arms before guiding you further towards the changing room.
“I only care about her and she doesn’t like that or seem to appreciate it..”
You both came to a stand outside and you sighed once more.
“Hey.. she’ll realise it sooner rather than later, with the amount of times i’ve seen you do things for her these past couple of days, she’s bound to.”
You simply nodded before pushing the door open, catching Guro’s attention before she whipped her head back.
The game was shocking to say and you ran after the ball with your mouth half open as you tried to come to terms how horribly you were all playing, not just Guro.
There was no midfield during the game, at least if felt like it, and your legs were horrifically numb, you could barely feel the ball at your feet.
You still had a few chances, a few chances that were either missed or way off target. The whole team was in shambles against a low level team and it was embarrassing to start a major tournament like so.
Every shot that came off the forwards feet made you hold your breath for as long as it took, groaning when you watched it fly completely out the stadium.
Your weakness grew the whole game and New Zealand took advantage to that at the beginning of the first half, scoring the first goal of the world cup.
From that, it just kept going downhill even if you were higher in possession it didn’t work.
Once the subs came on it felt a bit lighter, the shots finally becoming on target but always saved and booted away.
You witness Guro trying her hardest and your heart still cracked at her disappointment every time she missed, shaking your head at the failed opportunities.
Once the penalty was given for the ferns the faces of all your teammates dropped lower, including the ones on the bench. It couldn’t get worse for this prolific Norway team.
The deep sigh of relief was visible when Ria missed, head down in shame for just conceding the penalty.
It was like the team came to life after that, as much as they could, and were attacking hard. Almost like everyone snapped back to reality to realise this is the world cup, not a friendly.
The ball hit your foot at one point, running down the wing, shoulder to shoulder with a defender and managing to push her aside innocently and make the cross.
Ada, unselfishly, passed it to Guro beside her who comically missed the open sitter before falling to the floor in incredulity.
Your hands flew to your head, audibly expressing your annoyance before you bent down to sort your socks out.
The frustration was seen in all your teammates eyes as the final whistle was blown, your own glazed over.
You saw Guro glance at you culpably, biting the inside of her cheek as she didn’t know whether to approach you once you shook the last Kiwi players hand.
Hege didn’t bother to do a team debrief circle, seeming as most of them were hiding themselves from the embarrassment and fleeing to the tunnel.
You flopped into your locker, head leant back against it as you closed your eyes, keeping the emotion at bay for the meanwhile.
A few of the girls, upon arrival, clapped your shoulder as you changed your position to lean your elbows on your knees, hands covering your face.
Hege came in to do her scolding speech and you didn’t notice your girlfriends absence until after, searching around the room for the brunette.
“Where’s Gu?” You asked Emilie, panicked as she shrugged in reply.
You got up and rushed to the bathroom, checking the toilets and the showers to find that she is most definitely not in the changing room and by herself somewhere in the stadium.
You ignored the looks you got as you rushed from one side of the room to the other, slamming open the door and trailing away from the pitch entrance, seeming as there was still attendance out there.
Rounding the corner you found her on the floor, back against the wall with her knees up to her chest, staring at the wall in front of her.
“Guro! Der er du, jeg var bekymret.” Guro! There you are, i was worried.
“Like you always are.” She whispered, almost to herself rather than directly to you as she pursed her lips.
“I have to be, i’m your girlfriend and jeg elsker deg.”
You shuffled over to her and crouched down beside her, placing a hand on her knee for comfort and also to support your from falling backwards.
“I love you too, i’m sorry. I should have done what you said, i shouldn’t have played.” Her gaze turned to upon you, a single tear falling down her cheek and you quickly wiped it away before sitting down next to her.
“Elskede.. it doesn’t matter whether you played or not, we were all shit. I was wrong for telling you what to do, i don’t mean to come off as controlling.”
“You’re not controlling, as you said; you just wanted what was best, i won’t hold you to that title.” She whispered before sniffling, again, and resting her head on your shoulder.
“I just worry about you, i always will in sickness and in health.” You took her hand in yours and squeezed it with both hands, bringing them up to your lips.
“We’re not married though, so..” She joked, the small huff of a laugh escaping the back of her throat.
“Not yet, in the future though but that rule counted from when we started dating. I’d do anything for you.”
“jeg elsker deg så mye.” I love you so much. Guro pouted a smile as she brought her head up to face you, rather close.
“Can i kiss you, it feels like forever since we last did.” You muttered, your hand crawling from her neck to her cheek as your eyes fluttered to her lips.
“I don’t want you to catch anything.. but please, if you really want to.”
#guro reiten x reader#guro reiten imagine#guro reiten oneshot#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso oneshot#woso fic#chelseafcw#chelsea imagine#chelsea women
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imagine... the dabi hair dye scenario but one of the league finds/sees him and decides to help? my heart
(SO, I totally meant this to be shorter but I got a little in my feels. Plus the lowkey Dabi and Mr Compress friendship is so underrated, I adore it. Anyway, here it is, a little comfort fic.)
The Boy Can't Cry - By Guro. ♡
/Dabi gets overwhelmed dying his hair to cover up his past and Mr Compress comes to his aid. Any fics like this where it’s just the league interacting together I’m going to lovingly tag ‘League of Family’. Hope you enjoy! ♡/
/Tags l Tw ; Dabi being emotionally unstable, some cursing, Mr Compress being fatherly, friendship, league of family. ♡/
“How can a man head a group of villains…” Sako murmurs aloud to himself, pulling another card from the messy pile upon the small table between his knees. Sighing, he flicks it into one of several other smaller piles he’s made around the main one, tsk-ing to himself quietly. “...but he can’t keep a pack of cards together. Really.”
Pure boredom, and an inability to get himself over to sleep, is what inspired one Mr Compress to take up and look through Shigaraki’s deck. It’s late in the night now, maybe early morning, and he’s sorting each of the cards into their respective groups by lamplight. It’s a comfortable, mindless task, the showman dressed down to his shirtsleeves and balaclava. In the rare quiet he lets his mind wander, and wonders where Shigaraki had gotten the cards from.
Had he stolen them? Or were they given to him? Gifts from his master, maybe. Either way dearly cherished, he decides, running his thumb over the faded face of an ace of hearts. He’s pondering still when the quick tip-tap of feet on metal steps reaches his ears.
“Mr Compress!”
Blinking, he lays down his hand and turns to find Toga halfway down the rickety staircase, hand cupped around her mouth dramatically as she whisper-yells. Her eyes are big and wide in the dim light, uncharacteristically appearing almost… frightened? What? Right away Sako is on edge, cards forgotten. “What is it dear?” He asks, lowering his own voice in response to her whispers. His worry only grows as Toga’s lips seem to tremble, looking over her shoulder before back to her elder.
“It’s Dabi…” She replies quietly, hugging her arms around her nightdress-clad self. “Somethings wrong with Dabi.”
Sako isn’t sure what he’s seeing at first as he nudges in the bathroom door. Toga is at his back, gripping his sleeve and peering around his side as the door falls slowly open. The old tiled room is lit by dim, yellowed light, and he can just make out Dabi’s shape hunched over the tub at the far end. “He keeps talking to himself-” She murmurs, only to jump at the sound of an open growl, Dabi’s form twisting to glare over his shoulder in their direction from the shadows.
“Get out, Toga.” The burnt man snarls, sending the girl flying away without hesitation. Sako watches her go, a little shocked at her fear in the face of her own comrade. Dabi doesn’t even seem to be looking right at the doorway, stark blue eyes wide and lost. Vacant. Thick, inky black lines run down his face and throat, dripping off of his chin. What the hell is he doing?
“What’s going on, man?” Sako demands, crossing the threshold and approaching Dabi where he kneels. “What’s gotten into you? You’re scaring Toga.”
“Fuck you.” Dabi snaps back, fingers digging into his hair. The same black sits in smudges over the back of his neck, staining his pale fingers. In the dark it almost seems like the villain has been infected, taken over by some dark, miasmic mess. Squinting up, Sako reaches and with a gloved hand, twists the hanging bulb around in it’s socket. Suddenly the room is filled with brighter light, everything coming into focus, and he looks down at Dabi.
His eyes widen a fraction.
Dabi’s coat lies discarded on the dingy floor at his side, the villain kneeling, almost unnaturally bent over the shallow bathtub. His body is shaking, chest expanding and falling rapidly as he scrapes at his own scalp. His hands are trembling, veins visibly risen up on their backs. It seems like he’s working the blackness into his hair almost desperately, hushed words falling barely audible from his lips. “-away. Get away.”
“Dabi?” Sako tries again. And this time he gets a reaction; Dabi’s head twisting to glare in a manner almost animalistic. The black has run in streams down his face and into his eyes, scleras bloodshot deep red and burning. He can’t even see right now, Sako realises, without the ability to produce tears to get rid of the chemicals. Being so close for the first time, he takes note of the sparse, white hairs appearing in his league-mates' thin brows. Oh.
“Get out, Compress. Get out-”
“Do you need help?” He ignores Dabi’s demands easily. The young man isn’t himself right now, and his voice is hoarse, even more gravelly than usual. In response to his question Dabi’s hands clench in his hair, tight, tendons bulging as his knuckles turn white. Sako can hear the strands tearing and grabs for Dabi’s quivering hands. “Good God, man. Stop it!”
“Get off of me!” Dabi practically howls, twisting out of the older man’s grip and slipping, slumping shoulder-first against the side of the tub. He seems to deflate all at once, his head hanging low. Sako can only stare at him, his heart pounding with adrenaline and hands still outstretched, Dabi’s breath comes quick and loud, his own hands coming up to cover his face. He’s an utter mess, what Sako has now deduced to be black dye staining his hands, shirt. Everything. A stretch of silence passes between them, and then Dabi makes the last noise his companion expected to hear.
For a moment he thinks Dabi is laughing, finding some kind of twisted amusement in all of this. But then it starts coming louder, his shoulders shaking, chest and throat convulsing uncontrollably. A dry, hacking cough leaves his throat before he presses his palms harder against his face, knees pulling in close to his body. A noise like barely concealed sobbing reaches Sako’s ears.
He’s crying.
Well… no, the boy can’t cry. He knows this; Dabi’s tear ducts have been damaged beyond repair for years now. But his body still betrays him, shuddering through bouts of broken weeping, dredged up from somewhere deep inside of him. It feels almost wrong, Sako thinks, to see him so vulnerable. It’s clear he’s witnessing something deeply personal. A moment of distress so jarring that Dabi holds fast onto his own arms and curls in on himself, almost like he’s trying to comfort himself.
Almost like he’s done this a hundred times before.
The feeling of Sako’s arm wrapping around his shoulders makes Dabi jerk, looking up with bleary eyes as he stoops down to his level. “What are you doing?” He snaps weakly, but there’s no real conviction in it. His nose is running, his voice broken up. Whatever kind of mental breakdown Dabi is currently having, the older man simply can’t bring himself to leave him. Doesn’t want to leave him to fall apart on his own.
“Quiet.” He admonishes, crouching before Dabi and pulling him closer bodily, so that his head comes to rest on Sako’s shoulder. Still breathing raggedly, Dabi stares at a space somewhere on the wall beyond Sako’s shoulder for a while before his eyes close, a worn out sigh leaving his lungs in pieces. No attempt is made to shove him away this time. He gives in.
At one point in his life, another entertainer had told Sako that when a child hugged them, they should never be the first to let go. ‘Because you never know how badly they might need it’, they had said. Keeping his arms around Dabi and remembering that message, he tightens his grip a touch, resigning himself to remaining in a crouch and getting sore knees. Not that Dabi is willing to be held for very long. He pulls away with a sniff, hand on Sako’s shoulder to keep himself steady. “Fuck- my eyes.”
He’s not wrong. His eyelids are irritated and swollen, both his regular skin and the grafts beneath. Sighing, Sako loosens his grip and lets Dabi lean back, against the side of the tub. “Put your head over.” He advises, straightening to his feet and pulling off his ruined gloves.
“Why?” Dabi rasps.
“To wash the chemicals out of your eyes, Dabi.”
Dabi considers this with a glance at the dirty tiles then nods his head once. He looks, to put it in a word, drained, straightening himself up and turning to rest his elbows on the tub's edge. Sako watches him as he finishes rolling up his sleeves, shaking his head slightly.
“Where on earth do you young people find the energy to get so worked up?” He chides, not cruelly, turning the faucet and cupping his hand beneath the sluggish flow of water. With his free hand he brings Dabi’s head over the lip of the tub with a nudge, and brings his cupped hand to the fire-user's face. Dabi hisses but doesn’t recoil as Sako rinses the remnants of dye from his face and eyes, pausing only to say; “I’ll do your hair.” and washing the remainder from his unruly mane. His skin will stain for a while, but it’ll wash away in time. He’ll be alright.
To his credit, Dabi has stopped shuddering and seems to be slowly coming down. Slumped against the lip of the tub he lets out a long, slow breath, sniffing and wiping his nose on his forearm. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”
“Hold it, I’m almost done.”
With the sting in his eyes finally dulling, Dabi cracks them open halfway to watch the blue-black water flow down the drain. His throat feels suddenly raw, aching. His face hurts.
“Compress.” It hurts to talk. Jesus.
Sako shuts the water off when Dabi’s hair is running mostly clear, a brow arching beneath his balaclava. “Yes?”
“...don’t- Don’t go telling them.” He manages, fingers twitching where he holds the edge of the tub. “I don’t-”
“I understand.” Offering the cleanest looking towel in the room, Sako gives Dabi a faint smile, nodding when he pulls it from his grip. “It’s not for us to know… Are you alright?”
Dabi rises slowly, using the ledge to pull himself up before rubbing at his freshly dyed hair. There’s a moment of hesitation, then; “Yeah… thanks, Compress.”
Sako smiles fully now, spreading his arms and giving a short bow. “I do what I can.”
Dabi snorts, pulls the towel down around his shoulders. “I owe you, I guess.”
“Well… how do you fancy aiding my endeavours to organize Shigaraki’s card collection?”
“No thanks.”
“Understandable.”
#mha#bnha#my hero academia#league of family#lov#league of villains#plf#paranormal liberation front#dabi fic#dabi#toya#toya todoroki#mr compress#atsuhiro sako#dabi and mr compress#comfort#comfort fic#wholesome#just dudes being dudes#oh toga also makes an appearance#himiko toga
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| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |
TO THE MOON AND BACK // TETSUROU KUROO
word count: 1.3k+
song used: i see the light by mandy moore, zachary levi
amihan’s note: big brain time, this is kinda connected with the kenma fic, it's not really a necessity to this fic but yeah thought i would connect the two and two together, happy reading!
masterlist: 300 milestone
kuroo + high school sweethearts + "here’s my jacket"
long-time boyfriend!kuroo x fem!reader
“how did you two meet?” lev asks in curiosity, leaning on his palms while looking at the two of you.
the group groans in chorus, “what?” the tall first-year asks, “did i say something wrong?” he innocently asks.
“you’ve already opened the topic,” morisuke says while pinching his side, kuroo smiles widely and puts his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.
you hide your face behind your hands and groan loudly. “why do you have to ask lev?” you say while cringing on the inside.
“oh come on, it’s a fairy tale like story. you we’re my damsel in distress, my queen” he emphasizes the endearment with a teasing tone.
he brings up his free hand gesturing to nothingness, “tangled got nothing on us,” he says with all confidence and looks back at their tall middle blocker.
“once upon a time,” he baby talks, you push kuroo’s face away.
“stop that,” you grumble, heat comes rushing up your face. kuroo chuckles and rests his arm around you, obliging your request.
“okay, this is how i met y/n. you better listen closely or else you’ll miss something important” he says while pointing at lev, who in return, nods enthusiastically.
“say, would you be interested in going on a blind date? i know this girl,” morisuke offers with a soft smile. kuroo takes a sharp breath, “oh, i don’t know. kinda busy with being a good captain,” he says with a shrug which earn him a smack at the back of his head.
morisuke rolls his eyes and turns on his heel, “be ready tomorrow, i’ll text you the time and place” with that said, the libero leaves the middle blocker and doesn't wait for an answer.
“hey, isn’t that illegal?! i haven’t given you my consent!” kuroo shouts after him.
“what are you saying, yakkun?!” kuroo exclaims on his phone, “i said i’ll give you the time and place, i didn’t say anything about setting all of it for you,” he nonchalantly replies.
“what do i do then-” kuroo's complaints get interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.
he turns around and sees you, “am i late?” you sheepishly smile at him. one thing kuroo hates more than anything is when people don’t show up on time but i guess, for you he can work on that.
you slightly tilt your head to the side, kuroo who still has his phone pressed against his ear is staring at you with his mouth agape.
“if you’re not gonna answer, i’ll be hang-” before morisuke could push the red button, kuroo beats him to it.
the raven-haired clears his throat and shove his phone inside his pockets, “yeah, no. just in time, you ready?” his charming smile greeting you, “i see,” you sigh in relief. “may i?” he offers a hand which you gladly accept.
kuroo leads the way, hands intertwined with yours. “where are you taking me, uhhh… uhm,” you halt your steps and furrow your brows in concentration, eyes focused on him. “kuroo, tetsurou kuroo” he fills in for you.
“kuroo-san,” you say while nodding, “kuroo’s alright and i’m taking the lovely lady somewhere around here. it’s a surprise, you’ll have to find out later,” his smiles cheekily while winking at you.
morisuke might have not set up a place for your date but he knows this one location he loves the most. it might be a risky move to bring someone he’s only met once but his guts tells him otherwise.
a small gasp comes past your lips, the view is beautiful.
“before i continue the story, i gotta say. i’m such an innovative genius,” kuroo boasts. you nudge his shoulder a little, “just continue the story, nerd” kuroo pouts at your statement.
the first date happened by the side of the lake, kind of recreating the tangled lake scene except it’s daylight and there’s no lantern nor were you two on a boat. “do you like it?” his voice trembles slightly.
“how do you know this place?” your gaze fleeting from his eyes and back to the view, in awe of its beauty. kuroo lets out a deep breath and walks beside you, “i consider this my escape place.”
your head snaps in his direction, “you trust me to know this place?... in our first date?!” you look at him with wide eyes.
kuroo shrugs, “are you saying there’s gonna be a second?” he kicks a random pebble, his lips spreading to a playful smile.
he looks at you in the eyes with a brow raised, you break eye-contact, your face heating up. “so… escape place huh?” you try to subtly change the subject, he hums, having fun seeing you flustered.
the date went great, you got to know him better. he’s a sweet guy despite the rumors surrounding him overall a laid-back person.
kuroo holds up a finger, smiling ear to ear, he’s enjoying your company as much as you enjoy his. he’s about to utter his words when big drops of water land on the top of his head.
“oh you gotta be kidding me,” he mutters under his breath. the rain starts pouring down on the two of you, “it really has to be right at this moment?” you giggle at his words while he takes off his jacket.
“here’s my jacket,” he says while standing up. after you put on his jacket and wear the hood, he takes your hand in his, “are you a runner?” you shake your head to him, “sadly, i’m not.”
“how about dancing?” he reaches out for your other hand, “what? kuroo…” he rests both your hands around his neck and smiles down at you, his hands making their way to your hips.
he clears his throat before singing, “all those days,” his eyes finding yours, deep soothing voice filling your ears. “chasing down a daydream,” his voice lingering, bringing a hand up to cradle your face.
both your hips sways side to side as his voice sets the pace, the rain pouring down on the two of you. “all those years,” his thumb gently caressing your cheek.
the golden-like light shining down on you, perfectly framing your features, “living in a blur” you close your eyes leaning to his warm touch.
“i gotta say, you’re lucky to have your own flynn rider,” kuroo smugly claims. you scoff and roll your eyes at him, “if anything, you’re more of a maximus than flynn.” your boyfriend gasps at you and looks genuinely hurt by your statement.
“also, i can’t believe you gave me your jacket and decide to get us drenching wet from the rain,” you say while looking him in the eyes, “yeah that was pretty dumb, not gonna lie,” kenma mumbles while playing with his handheld game console.
“it was not! it’s very sweet and that wasn’t what you said when we were having our disney moment,” kuroo faces you, the arm around your shoulder is now pointing at you. “yeah because i don’t wanna be rude.”
as the two of you have your mini banter, kai turns to morisuke, “maximus has a better personality than flynn though… right?” the libero chuckles, “let him be, flynn does perfectly portray that tall bastard anyway.”
your mini argument is temporarily cut off by your sneeze, kuroo sighs, “you forgot your jacket again?” you shake your head, too stubborn to admit. “i’m okay, as i’m saying, you’re maxi-” he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulder.
“wear it then we can continue,” he says while looking at you sternly, you begrudgingly wear the jacket and cross your arms while huffing.
“is this normal?” lev who’s watching the scene unfold, asks the group, they all nod in sync, not batting an eye at the couple.
as lev turns to look back at the couple, he can’t believe how you were just having a mini banter not moments ago and now you're all over each other.
“love you,” you mutter, snuggling closer to his side, “and i love you... to the moon and back,” he replies, leaving a kiss on top of your head.
-to embrace hs sweethearts
you take kuroo's hand as he leads you in the center of the dance floor, the music changing to a slower song, the instrumentals familiar to your ears.
kuroo takes the mic that's given to him and smiles at you, looking deeply into your eyes. "all those days," his beautiful voice can be heard by everyone.
your eyes soften looking back with the same overflowing love, "i love you," you mouth to him as he continues, "watching from the windows."
soon, rain special effects start pouring down just outside where you and him won't get wet, "you even got the rain effect?" you gasp, mouth agape. he nods, lyrics continue to flow past his lips.
copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33
taglist: @arrianao @tendo-sxtori @milkteeboba @lumpiang-toge @chibishae34 @emeraldscloud @tohman @kirakirasaku @sushi-guro @duhsies @foxxtrot-116 @gay-bitch23 @crybabyjabby
#kuroo as flynn?#anyone?#bcs i’m all in for it#i’ll give u my soul#if u makes this happen#fandom;hq#nekoma;kuroo#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#kuroo x reader#tetsurou kuroo x reader#haikyuu oneshot#hq oneshot
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plz plz plz can you write m!whitney skullfucking pc
wordcount: 2.5k (can’t believe this is the first time i write an actual fic on here.)
cw: noncon, detailed ero guro / gore porn, eye trauma, drugging, knives, vomit mention, needle mention, degradation, victim blaming.
or: whitney fucks your eye socket and prepares you for the act.
don’t read this to upset or trigger yourself, please.
Since all of your holes have been used by others, Whitney makes one for himself.
“Look at you- You can barely keep your fucking head up, slut.”
The voice drifts to you from far away, a figure leaning over the ice you’re trapped under. Where am I?, you ask, but all your vocal cords produce is a gurgle. Your limbs are made of cement and frozen in place. Letting yourself be dragged back into the depths of unconsciousness is much easier than staying afloat. Through trembling eyelids, you barely make out the shape of the person in front of you. Their legs, to be precise. Pain shoots through your scalp and you jolt, finally present enough for the ties around your wrists and ankles to register in your mind, the cold wall you’re leaning against. That it’s Whitney, because who fucking else would it be, yanking you up by your hair. Your tongue still refuses to move.
“Follow.” His voice feigns disinterest. Yet he keeps shuffling, leaning his weight more on one leg, then the other again. He holds his hand in front of your face, moving it from side to side. Your head is so fuzzy you see no reason to disobey. By the time you’ve caught up with him to the right, he’s already back the other way. Your eyelids droop. He laughs. “God, you’re out of it. Poor you, did I gave you a little too much? You can’t say I’ve ever underestimated you.”
As soon as his grip loosens, your head drops and black dots litter your vision. Drool spills from your mouth. Something bad is about to happen, there’s no other explanation for this. His hands will end up all over your body again. But there’s no chatter of his friends, no flashes of cameras, so different from the usual that you don’t know what to expect. The world fades out, before flickering back in the middle of a sentence.
“...pay me back. Got that? Good.” The hand is back in your hair, keeping you steady. He’s digging around in his pocket. “If you weren’t such a whore, I wouldn’t have to do this. Did you think I wouldn’t see those pictures? Wouldn’t know when my slut’s gagging around someone else? I promised I would beat some sense into you if you didn’t listen, so here we are.”
Whitney’s found what he had been looking for. There’s something in his hand, moving toward your face too quickly to make out. Everything’s so blurry that even while squinting, you can’t immediately tell what it is. You nearly go crosseyed trying to figure it out. A handle clenched in his fist, gray, reflecting surface, ending in a sharp point-
A knife.
“You’re a fucking cumbrain already, but I’ll give you one too.”
You watch the situation unfold from the back of your skull. This is happening to someone else, anyone except you. It’s a movie, and a bad one at that. You can’t pinch your arm to wake yourself up. Whitney had hurt you before, sure, with his bare hands. Never like this. He’s always made fun of Kylar for having to resort to knives, why would he use one now? Is it just a threat? It has to be. Then again, you’re so disoriented you don’t stand a sliver of a chance against him. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, so loud it makes your head throb. The furthest your abilities go is to shake your head and force a whimper from your throat, rubbing your wrists raw on the zip tie. Whitney presses cold steel against your cheek. You try to spit at him, but you can’t put any force behind it. It dribbles down your chin in a slow stream.
Whitney barks out a laugh. “What the fuck are you, a dog?” The knife digs into your skin, a gentle push away from slicing you open. “Don’t get to get too excited yet, we haven’t even started, slut.” He slides the blade up to your bottom eyelid, leaving a shallow cut. (Your brain is fuzzy. Your cheeks are warm, burning- Are you blushing? Is the wetness rolling down your face a tear?) Your fingers twitch, your teeth grind together, every muscle pulled tight like a bowstring.
His breathing is laboured, eyes boring into yours, expression blank for a mere moment. Whitney, as you know him from school, is all but empty. He’s of scoffing and snarling, of laughter and grins- This is nothing you recognize. Your gut twists. Every instinct in your body is screeching at the top of its lungs for you to run. At the same time, another part tells you to stay as still as possible, as if you will simply fade out of existence if you don’t move. (But it’s okay, because none of this is real, and you’re at the orphanage in bed curled up under the covers, and you’ll wake up late and rush to get your uniform to not miss the bus and you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine-) Whitney’s tongue darts out to trace his upper lip, his fingers turning white around the handle.
The next, there is a blow of air against your eye before pure, indescribable agony accompanied by a wet squelch. You’re dying, you’re dying, you’re dying, it’s over- Half of your face has been blown off, your brain is exposed for all to see and poke and prod, your lungs collapse with every breath, your throat spasms around vomit. What’s left of your right side of vision is a red and black pulsating blur. The screams, the sole outburst you’re capable of, are mere groans in the back of your throat. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish on land. Blood, sweat, tears, pus, slime- You wouldn’t know. Something oozes down your face, thick mucus, making a mess on your lap. You’re warm, you’re cold, sweat thick underneath your clothes. Everything is wet. Everything is hot.
A hand is on your head, stroking. The sensation dissapears into and becomes one with the pain, the thing that melts everything else away. “There you go, you’re being so good! But I’m not done yet.” He speaks to you in the tone reserved purely for dogs. From the corner of your good eye, you can see him reaching his fist back and pounds it against the handle, your entire world dissolving into nothing as it hits.
When you wake up, you do so to a palpitating heart that’s skipping beats left and right, to a convulsing body, to spit frothing at your mouth and a needle in your leg. The gag in your mouth rubs against your tongue and tastes of sweat. Whitney has discorded the knife, left it at your feet. Your eyeball looks like scrambled egg white on one end, a sloppy mess, and you gag. At one point or another, you will have to come to term with the fact that you’re never going to see from it again.
“Can’t have you leaving before the party’s started.” Your head whips around, the sensation of something sloshing inside your eye socket immediately making you regret it. Wind blows straight into the wound and causes you to ear up. He’s on your right. Somewhere. What you assume to be the syringe falls to the ground with a clatter. There’s no way he isn’t standing there, in the void he created, on purpose. You would’ve preferred to be really fucking dead right now. Let him rape your corpse, at least you wouldn’t have to be there to notice it. Whatever he injected you with, it’s all so much sharper now. The lights are brighter, every little step he takes ringing in your ears, your right eye (or the slurry that’s left of it) aflame. You rock back and forth to shuffle further away from him, but you’re already backed against a wall and the movement makes the blood in your skull slosh alongside it.
“Gotta check if you’re wet enough for me. Thank me later, slut.” Whitney pulls on your eyelashes, the tip of his finger teasing the hole. Once in a while, it dips into the wound, your nerves tingling in anticipation at the near touch. Breath hitching every time, your brain can’t comprehend what’s exactly happening to you. Your heart pounds in your ears, your limbs keep twitching against your will. Now that you can, you want to struggle, but you’re so scared of that pain, terrified that he could choose to take the other one as well.
All you want is for this to be over. You just want to be home. As flawed of a home it is, it’s still the one place you can think to return to. (Robin will be there, waiting for you. They always have. Could you still keep up with them during games, now that you’re like this? Bailey’s presence, suffocating as it is, at least keeps you safe from intruders. How pissed off are they going to be, now that you're a damaged ware?)
“Can’t you sit still for one fucking second? You wanna know what it feels like when I slip so badly?” Your head jerks to the side against your will, foot hitting his ankle. “I guess you do, huh? But, fuck- You keep writhing around, maybe I should give the needy whore what they want. You’re soaked, that’s for sure.”
Whitney pulls away, his fingers coated a pale red. Using your hair as a rag, he smears the fluids in it, tugging on it once for good measure. He takes a step back, descends back outside your field of vision. There’s the rustling of fabric, unbuckling of a belt, a zipper being undone. You begin to plead through your gag, repeating muffled, incomprehensible words, because please, anything but this, not right now, not ever, hasn’t he done enough, isn’t he satisfied, he’s already ruined you enough, please, just please-
“It’s cute you think you have a choice.”
There’d been a nagging suspicion in the back of your head that it would come down to this. Every meeting with Whitney would end up leading down the same path, but this time... You choke on your breaths, chest heaving with sobs. With every shock of your shoulders, more heat leaks out of your eyes, your entire face turning into one throbbing mess. You squeeze your eyes shut. (There’s no way you can move the right eyelid, the knife has torn straight through it. All it is now is limp meat, hanging on by a thread.) His dick presses against your cheek. Fucking hell, why does he have to be so big too? There’s ringing in your ears as he leaves a trail of precum, mingling with the mess already there. His scent overpowered by the metallic smell of blood. Why can’t you just pass out again? But you’re still twitching, thoughts racing faster than you can keep track of.
“You’ve been asking for this, don’t try to deny it. I’m not stupid. Well, you’ve got my attention now. You better be grateful.” He misses the first time, the head of his dick rubbing against your eyebrow. Whitney curses underneath his breath. Trembling fingers tug your eyelids as far apart as possible and you hate it, you hate this so fucking much, you want someone to come by here to save you, you want to sink through the floor, you want to die.
He sucks in a breath through grit teeth, and hits his mark. You’re not sure how much he crammed inside your skull, but all of it was too much, too cruel. The screaming is clear through your bounds, raking your throat raw. Whichever way you move, his cock stays lodged in between the bone. The muscles snap and tear, the bones crack, the flesh, like the tight fit that it is, clings around his dick, and he groans as he pushes himself further inside. An impossible amount of more fat and mucus and slime comes free, clogging your nose. The back of your head slams against the wall with every movement, but it doesn’t hurt, doesn’t compare.
There’s nothing else. There can be nothing else. Your mind is full and empty at the same time. He’s all you can think about, he’s fucking the memory of him into your brain, leaving his permanent mark. Is this what he wanted? You’re being dissected, pulled apart, the creases of your brain violated. He’s saying things, (tight, mess, slut, enjoying, loud.), but he’s pulling out and the scrape of the warm flesh makes the scenery blur. Your throat feels like it was pulled across sandpaper.
The pressure dissipates and you cry in pure relief. But, a moment later, he’s back in and down a slightly different path at a slightly different angle and there’s more snapping, more gushes of fluid. The only thing that will ever fit there again will be him. The perfect little cocksleeve. He’s pushing up against something and you don’t know what, but every time he twitches and brushes against it, your entire vision blacks out. Where the pain reached a crescendo before, it’s turned around to be almost numbing now. Are your nerves torn up? Are you dying?
“Open your mouth. Wait, fuck-” He’s breathless, stuttering over his words. His dick twitches and scrapes against bone. Trembling fingers remove the gag from your mouth. If this were literally any other situation, you might have been almost proud to have turned him into such a wreck. “Stick your tongue out and it’ll be over. Done.”
You latch onto those words like a lifeline. No matter how it ends, you just want it to be over. Without much more than a second of delay you do as he asks, your good eye rolling up to try and look at him. Considering how full your head is, you hardly notice the strings of cum being added to the pool, until some of it leaks through your nose and onto your tongue. He puts one hand on your head, shaking it until more follows. (Though his cum isn’t the only thing there.)
Strings of blood and slime stick to his dick like drool as he pulls out. You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate this fucking town, and you hate every piece of shit in it. Your brain is a cacophony of screaming, of visions of growing fangs and claws and tearing him to shreds, of burning this whole town down. All you do is stare up without really looking, eyes glazed over. You’re tired, so unbelievably tired. All you want to do is rest, even if it’s while bleeding out in some shitty alleyway. His voice drifts to you from far away, smile clear in his tone.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
An eye for an eye has never sounded so appealing before.
#degrees of lewdity#whitney the bully#i knoooow he wouldnt do this but whatever i like writing it and also i can do whatever i want#it was just a top tier request i cant help myself#seriously dont read to freak yourself out !#k.gore#k.degradation#k.drugs#k.knife
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Fanfiction Commissions: OPEN!
Alright, fuck it, we’re doing this.
So! I’m looking to make a little extra money to help support my webcomic now that it’s finally in production. I’ll have a Patreon set up once it starts publishing, but until then, I figure why not try my find at some fanfiction commissions? I’ve been writing fanfic for two years, and y’all seem to like it whenever I do, so here’s your chance to have me write the fanfic of your dreams! With some rules and regulations, of course.
Want to commission me? Read the rules below, then shoot me a PM on Tumblr or through Discord (my Discord is Ardania22#1598). I’ll probably only take a few commissions at a time so as to not overwhelm myself, so strike while the iron’s hot, because slots might fill up quick!
And if you’re not familiar with my fanfic, you can check out my entire body of work HERE.
Fandoms:
Symphogear
RWBY
Evangelion
Revue Starlight
The Owl House
Little Witch Academia
Madoka Magica
Fate/Stay Night
SK8 the Infinity
I may do other fandoms on request.
Prices:
$0.015 per word for SFW piece. (Ex. A 1000 word commission will be $15.00)
$0.02 per word for a NSFW piece. (Ex. A 1000 word commission will be $20.00)
For longer fics, every word over 3000 words is an extra $0.005.
EXAMPLE: Let’s say someone commissions me for a SFW fic of 4000 words. I write it and it ends up being 4098 words. The first 3000 words are priced at $0.015 per word, which comes out to $45.00. The other 1098 words are priced at $0.02 per word, which comes out to $21.96. Put together, the fic would cost $66.96 in total.
Rules:
1. I will not write content than I am uncomfortable with. My no-go material includes:
Extreme fetishes such as bestiality, vore, guro, etc.
Extreme age gap relationships.
NSFW with characters under 15 years old.
Blatant self-insert wish fulfillment protagonists.
Anything blatantly offensive or bigoted.
There may be others I’ve forgotten to list. I reserve the right to refuse any and all commissions for whatever reason.
2. I will do my best to finish your commission within a week. That said, be aware I have my own life and please be patient if I end up taking a little longer.
3. All works will be posted on Archive of Our Own. I will always credit you for your commission unless you request otherwise.
4. I will accept payment after the commission is finished. If you are unable to pay at the moment, I will withhold the fic until you can.
5. When requesting, I suggest sending at least 3 sentences describing your fic idea so I can get a grasp on it. If you have a preferred word count target, make sure to let me know as well.
6. My max word count is around 5000 words. No multi-part projects or crossovers.
7. OCs are a maybe, as long as you have an information sheet ready.
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Frostbite
This is just me testing the waters.
I haven’t posted any horror porn since 2017/8 when I had a fascination with a very specific fictional character and got backlash for it lmao
Anyway, I might come back and edit this because I kinda rushed it since ya know, it was THAT episode T^T
PS: would ya be mad if I said this was the 1K celebration fic? be honest
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: guro, non-con, decay, dismemberment, just horropron lmao
How long had it been since he had actually touched another human being with a pulse?
Shigaraki didn’t know.
You weren’t moving but you were alive. Your pulse was so weak, he had almost thought that he had killed you.
Shigaraki tilted his head to the side and reached his hand to touch your cheek. You didn’t move, instead, you watched as he ran his bony fingers across your cheek.
It was cold and it felt oddly weird to touch someone so cold, almost frigid. No- you were colder than a corpse, he knew how it felt to touch a corpse, he knew how cold a dead body could get.
“This is interesting,” Shigaraki sighed and retrieved his hand. “I had thought you would give up sooner.”
How long has it been? He momentarily paused to try to remember how long you had been at it. He couldn’t remember exactly when he had run up to you but it had been a while.
You thought you would have given up sooner too. But you desperately wanted to live. Even if it was only for a couple of minutes longer. Your body wouldn’t stop trembling, it was freezing cold. You had only one chance, you hoped that you were doing the right choice in using your quirk this way.
Tonight was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. Your boyfriend had just proposed to you but the ring he had put on your finger was right under your naked body, along with a pile of dust that was supposed to be your hand. At least it was, only a couple of minutes ago-
If only you had taken your fiance’s offer to drive you home, you wouldn’t be in this dark alley, fighting for your life in the worst way possible. If only you hadn’t followed the sound of crying into this dark alley. Then you wouldn’t have seen him killing that woman, perhaps if you had stayed quiet instead of screaming, you could have left without him noticing.
There were many ‘ifs’ because all of this was preventable.
“Ice slows down decay.” He pouted as he spread your legs wider, crawling closer to you. You couldn’t move, if you moved a finger your Quirk would deactivate and result in your death. The thin ice you produced could only cover your skin, keeping you barely alive. It could break only if you moved.
That’s why Shigaraki was sure there was no way you would live, he had already touched you and the decay was still spreading… just slower than it usually would. “You know,” Shigaraki let out a sharp gasp to the sensation of your freezing cold folds as he massaged them with the tip of his cock. “If you can hold on for a while longer, I’ll cut your arm. Decay will stop and you’ll live.”
You didn’t need to endure this. You didn’t want to endure this.
But you still couldn’t bring yourself to deactivate your Quirk.
Death was scary. Death meant many things; emptiness, darkness, and eternity. You were afraid of them all.
You looked at Shigaraki with tears sliding out of your eyes, begging for his mercy.
Shigaraki smirked at your reaction. Then he pulled at the tender skin of your folds just enough to expose your soaking wet entrance to his hungry eyes. You closed your eyes, wishing to be somewhere else, anywhere would be fine. Just a couple of hours ago you were talking to your now fiance about going on a vacation to the Bahamas and now you were laying butt naked in front of the most wanted criminal in the whole country.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m a man of my word. Just hold on for a minute longer, ‘kay?” Shigaraki slid inside of your pussy with a juicy plop.
You winced but made sure to not move.
Do not move.
Do not fucking move.
He shivered and let out a breathy laugh. He had already pushed himself balls deep into your cunt. He was so big, filling you up to the brim so nicely. “You’re so warm on the inside.” Your walls pulsated around him, you couldn’t help but trying to hug onto the warmth his cock provided inside of you. “I’ve never done this with someone-”
You wanted to pretend to not hear what he said next. However, it kept echoing within your mind. Wordlessly, you glanced up at him with wide, shell-shocked eyes. You desperately wanted this nightmare to end.
I’ve never done this with someone alive.
Someone alive-
A sob tore out of you, it almost felt like you were merely seconds away from having a panic attack as he began to thrust in and out of you, squelching sounds filling your ears.
You closed your eyes shut to imagine anyone but Tomura Shigaraki on top of you. This was all just a bad nightmare, before long you would wake up in your bedroom because there was no way you could be this unlucky, right?
Nope.
This was all real.
He could do whatever he wanted with you and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. All you could do was to ignore him moving inside of you and avoid moving yourself to stay alive.
The decay had already reached to your elbow, it wouldn’t be long until your entire arm crumbled into dust.
Shigaraki grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. He wanted to get a reaction out of you. There has to be something that you absolutely didn’t want him to do. Something that would make your stomach churn and break your concentration on keeping your Quirk active.
Shigaraki liked overpowering by manhandling gullible rich girls like you. But-
“It’s no fun when yer laying there like a corpse.”
He was desperate to have you fight back. He had seen the ring on your finger, you had a boyfriend. You also looked like you were coming from a rich family or perhaps it was just your boyfriend’s money. Come on now, the infamous Tomura Shigaraki was fucking your tight little cunt, it had to be humiliating for a girl like you.
He needed you to scream and beg for help. Try to scratch at his face each time he thrust inside of you as he ravished you both mentally and physically.
Shigaraki groaned in frustration and looked down at you.
It was dead silent in the alley except for the squelching sounds coming from your cunt when Shigaraki thrust in and out of it.
Quiet.
Crunch-
The disgusting sound first echoed in the dark alley and then within your mind.
Before you could even register what was happening the pain took over your body, you kept shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes followed Shigaraki’s and you wished you hadn’t looked at what he was looking.
A startled gurgle forced its way up to your throat but you somehow managed to scream in agony, your arm was aching and sizzling in pain.
He eerily smiled at that.
Your arm was chopped off. You watched the amputated arm of yours crumble apart and rot within only a second.
Shigaraki’s thrusts became stronger and more animalistic each time you screamed or whimpered. He was muttering to himself under his breath but you couldn’t hear anything, your ears were ringing. You felt your head swim and everything started to spin.
A loud sob left your lips and tears slid out of your eyes. You tried to breathe but each time you inhaled air, it felt like it didn’t reach your lungs. You were soon hyperventilating, silently screaming in pain.
“Oh, that’s what I wanna see,” Shigaraki put the blood-covered knife aside, hips started roughly slamming into yours with renewed excitement. It made your breath hitch. Was he getting off to this?
“You look so fucking good,” he breathed and wrapped his hand around your throat. He let out a low hiss as your walls tightened around his cock. “Yer getting warmer.”
It was true.
Your Quirk had been deactivated the second you saw your amputated arm, the shock was too much for you to keep your Quirk stably active. On the bright side, you were still alive, the decaying had stopped, Shigaraki had kept his promise.
You were alive and that was all that mattered.
Shigaraki pushed inside of you for the last time, spilling his entire load inside of your unprotected cunt.
It was warm. Your body felt heavy and finally relaxed. The pain was still present but everything started to blur. You were slowly fading into oblivion but you still managed to make out the bright light as the camera flash on Shigaraki’s phone.
#did I cringe reading my own fic yeah lmao#will I delete this later? yeah probably#i still have no fucking idea on how to end a story#non-con#tw dismemberment#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader
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