#i have A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THE BEAST AU LN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

siberlius-moving · 4 years

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i know i said no essay bUT HERE’S A LONG ONE

- spoilers for beast au ahead -

BEAST: On being human and alive

What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to be living?

The characters here refer to Beast AU’s characters, but I will specify when I am referring to the main universe’s respective characters.

Dazai and Akutagawa: what is a beast? who is the beast?

Dazai in the Beast AU, having glimpsed into the alternate universes, had concocted an elaborate plan to ‘save’ an universe where Odasaku got to write his novel. I would like to think, that this Dazai saw the lives of other Dazais who had left the Port Mafia and lived a purposeful life where he could genuinely be a good person and help others, surrounded by people he cares about and who also genuinely care for him (thus, in spite of all the suicide jokes, Dazai in main universe is actually clinging onto life pretty tightly). But Dazai in the Port Mafia was still a person who hadn’t learnt to appreciate human life as being something more than the act of moving and breathing. As smart as he was, he hadn’t had the maturity to understand empathy, sympathy, and the value of having connection with others. Main universe’s Dazai, in fact, is still learning to do so. He has a long way to go, but you realise that it is his connections with people like Oda, Atsushi and the ADA that give him purpose to live another day, and help him be so much more successful in pulling off his schemes since people actually trust and open up to him. You can argue that he would still have been successful being his old Port Mafia self, except with a lot more deaths and violence. But, he would have lived a very short life. Which, was what happened in the Beast AU.

Beast AU’s Dazai, latching onto the regret of main universe’s Dazai, and encouraged by his own lack of will to live in his present life, decided that this universe didn’t matter (since he technically had already ‘lived’ in other timelines) and set on a path to help Oda finish writing a novel. It is incredibly selfish, because for everyone else, this was the only life they ever had, would ever lived. By the end of the book, Dazai realised this. He got called out by Oda for it. In their one and only meeting, Oda noted that Dazai was almost childlike in the way he tried to recreate a friendship that never existed. When Oda told Dazai that they were not friends and that he would do everything in his power to get Akutagawa back, Dazai understood. At the last stage of his grand plan, where he was to die, it had seemed like he got what he wanted - Oda had his book written and had led a nice life after all. But was it really what Dazai wanted? Was he not just slave to the main universe’s Dazai’s wishes?

Akutagawa in Beast AU isn’t very much different from Akutagawa in the main universe, at least until Dazai came about and changed everything. Dazai in the Beast AU, had become the Port Mafia boss at a really young age. All the immaturity and issues mentioned above get ramped up here. He controlled the port mafia with an iron fist. I would think it was harder for him, because at least for Mori, he had years to build his way up. The rumours that Dazai killed Mori to usurp his position made it harder for Dazai to consolidate his power. He knew that he needed multiple figures of fear to rule. In the main universe, Dazai was an executive who didn’t know the existence of Atsushi. Akutagawa was the only one he could mould into a similar role he was looking for. Thus, Beast AU’s Dazai went to Akutagawa first.

But in the main universe, Dazai realised too late that Akutagawa was too 'wild’. He was a blunt kind of mass weapon of destruction, too much of a wild card. In any case, Dazai was just an executive then, and Akutagawa served his purpose most of the time, and Mori had a good range of competent supporters he could use. Chuuya actually respected and was extremely loyal to Mori. In the Beast AU, Dazai didn’t have that kind of support. But he needed one, controllable weapon from the shin soukoku for his future plans. He tested Akutagawa by letting him kill all the gang members (in the main universe, Dazai had them killed as a ‘gift’ to Akutagawa to entice him to join Port Mafia). Akutagawa killed them extremely brutally, almost animalistically. Too wild for Dazai’s needs. That was okay, because Atsushi was perfect, and Dazai knew of Atsushi’s existence. Atsushi had a moral compass and knew right from wrong. He was only uncontrollable when influenced by his ability and he turned into a tiger, but this can be managed by a brutal spiked choker around his neck. His conscience, along with his fragile mentality, allowed Dazai to perfectly control his actions by using said conscience against Atsushi, without the unpredictable risks that Akutagawa posed.

Here’s the important thing: Dazai thought that Akutagawa was a ‘beast’. A beast is a thing controlled by its nature. It cannot be controlled by anything else besides a severe master. It is dangerous, it is wild, it is irrational, but it is innocent. After all, it is only doing what its instincts call for it to do. How can one be guilty, when it does not know what it is doing is wrong? If it is evil, then all it knows is evil deeds. Nothing one does can change it. After all, Akutagawa was inclined towards destruction, and he was talented in it. He tends towards irrational destruction with utter disregard for his or others’ lives. Gin was injured while saving Akutagawa during the massacre, and he abandoned her for mindless, hopeless revenge. This fact was used against Akutagawa - Dazai rejected him over it and took Gin away. Dazai told Gin that Akutagawa had abandoned her for violence and would abandon her again because when it came down to it, he was a destructive beast who cannot ignore his nature and he cannot love the way normal humans do. Akutagawa proved Dazai’s point when he attacked Atsushi for calling him out on this, even though Atsushi was leading him to Gin. Gin, out of resentment and love, left Akutagawa so that Akutagawa could live on, like he was a wolf that belonged to the forest.

But Dazai was wrong. Akutagawa had lived in environments that had shaped him to be extremely reactive, violent and constantly on survival mode. He would react to threats with immediate violence. But that did not make him inherently a beast. Even he had nothing, he acted as a protector for the children, and led them as much as he could. After Oda found him, offered him food and shelter and gave him a chance to live a life beyond constant survival, he flourished. He bonded with Tanizaki over the love of their sisters. He agreed to ADA’s conditions for helping him find his sister even though he could have simply attacked them for answers. When Kenji showed him the rice plains he was enraptured by the sight. He learnt to plant rice with Kenji and had continued to help him with farming even when he had no reason to help him. He sucked at paperwork but was really good at keeping with Kunikida’s schedules and helping him track and catch criminals (and without killing them!). He helped Oda babysit 15 kids by making playgrounds, showing up for their PTAs and helping them be more confident in school. When he had the opportunity, he could choose to be kind. When he had the patient guidance of a loving community, he could learn from them and change. (Minor scene at the start of the novel: When Akutagawa gets hot tea spilt onto him, Tanizaki and Kunikida sensed instinctive bloodlust on him. But what he really did, was to catch the tea cups and the serving tray swiftly with Rashomon and hand it back to the waitress.)

Oda pointed it out rightly - Akutagawa was an emotional person and he cared too much. When things he cared about were hurt, these emotions took control of him and he would lash out in rather violent ways. And he would feel guilty over it. But, how can a beast feel guilty? It is interesting that in the Beast AU, Atsushi was hardly ever referred to as a beast, even when he was famous for being unable to recognise friend from foe when he was in a tiger state. One of the more obvious parallels is then when Akutagawa noted that Atsushi was driven mad by guilt. And Akutagawa slowly saw it in himself. They were similar that way - both were hounded by the guilt of a irreversible mistake that destroyed/changed their lives. Akutagawa never forgave himself for leaving Gin alone that night when Dazai took her away, to the point that he wanted to die. He only wanted to find and kill two people. One was Dazai. The second was himself. He was afraid of this uncontrollable beast he felt was inside him.

Oda told him not to chase the beast for a good reason - Akutagawa was not a beast. But he could choose to be one, if he followed that path of no return. Kunikida at the crucial fight point, when urging Akutagawa to stand up and continue fighting said it too: that Akutagawa was not an evil person, but he could choose to be a good person if he chose to become a detective with the ADA. And Akutagawa chose. He allowed Atsushi to live, and told him to keep on fighting and living. He continued working with ADA, trying to solve cases and save people, so that he could prove to himself that he was not a beast, and that one day, Gin could see that he was better and came back to him. I think, even in the main universe, Dazai knows he is wrong about Akutagawa - he may have given up in trying to teach non-terrorising skills in Akutagawa when he was still in the Port Mafia, but he has since tried to amend his mistakes through Atsushi.

Being able to make choices is what makes you human. Choosing to do things beyond our instincts, our nature. We are good, because of the choices that we have made. Likewise, we are bad, because of what we have done. Akutagawa was born to have traits of a rabid hellhound, but he didn’t become one. No one tamed him. What happened, was that he had met with kindness. He had friends. He shared his thoughts and his past and his feelings to the members of the ADA, and they had connected with him and helped him out as much as they could, even when he had yet to fulfil the ‘spirit’ part of the exam. Kenji and Akutagawa had an interesting conversation in the fields. Kenji pointed out that while his companions had died, he had continued to live well. Akutagawa then wondered if it was because his companions have given him the best parts of themselves for him to live on. It is the connection with others that make life worthy of living, that make life mean something. To be human, is to make choices. To be judged on our worth as a human, is to be judged by our very actions. This is inherent in what it means to be alive: living is only worthy when we can share our lives with others.

Now contrast this with Dazai. Did he really have a choice? If he did, he made some dreadfully selfish ones that destroyed and traumatised the people around him. The Dazai in this world had his own experiences that made him a separate person from the other Dazais after all - his actions and the consequences were his and his own to bear. Who was he to have something that the other Dazais had worked to achieve? The Dazais in other universes may have lost Oda, but Oda was a friend, who shared memories and time with him, who understood and seen him. The loss was devastating, but main universe’s Dazai didn’t truly lose Oda. Oda was still alive, in his mind, giving him the motivation to live on, reminding him to reach out to others and telling him that he was not alone. Dazai in the Beast AU was truly alone. He might have thought that he could replicate a connection in this universe, but his actions had made them nonexistent. As much as Oda was kind and empathetic and perceptive in every universe, it was just impossible. And Oda’s life involved people he cared deeply about, people who Dazai had hurt. Dazai, in the Lupin bar that he had never been in this universe, may have been in denial to tide over the years of waiting for Oda to finish writing and for shin soukoku to develop the best they can be, but once he spoke to Oda, the illusion shattered. Even with all his knowledge of the world, it was never going to recreate a purpose to live. No matter his good intentions, Dazai would never receive the acknowledgement he badly wanted from Oda. Oda would never give him the relief of forgiveness Dazai wanted for the terrible deeds he had done. And Dazai would die, in misery, fulfilling a wish that didn’t truly belong to him.

If Dazai truly didn’t have a choice, then, he was compelled by forces that created this condition within him - he was then, the only beast of this universe.

#meta #essay length!#it's hyperfixation babes #i have A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THE BEAST AU LN #bungou stray dogs #bsd beast #bsd #akutagawa #dazai

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katsukikitten · 4 years

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Thirsty

A/N Please enjoy what I’ve been self indulging all week. It was a cliche but fun concept to write! @bakugotrashpanda this is the fiction I was dming you about bb. Yall readers leave your thoughts pls bb enjoy~

Warnings: Aged Up/18+ AU, Vampire AU, blood, intense sex, mentions of marking.

He hasn't fed in days, no make that fucking weeks.

Months even although he has tried.

Hoping some stupid fool would venture out during this pandemic and now mandatory quarantine.

Not that the threat of the disease mattered to him, his body would correct whatever ailment in a matter of seconds.

And he needed to eat.

But as usual he has some shit luck. Not a single soul left on the once packed streets.

And there you sit all the temptation in the world, your sweet scent was already hard enough to endure during the few hours you were normally home. Causing the ash blonde to avoid any of the "community" spaces of the dingy shared apartment.

Only agreeing to have you move in since you has claimed you would hardly be home as you were too busy with work.

So busy in fact you could never come by to see the place in person. Further encouraging the angry recluse's decision.

But had you ever come in person he would have denied you, turned you away no matter the price you were willing to pay.

And especially so if you begged.

Because you fucking reeked.

So repulsively pungent that after just meeting you his throat closed up, eyes narrowing to slits as he felt a deep ache within him.

Going out that very night draining three people drops from dry.

Fuck, who was he fucking fooling?

He never liked liars and he was never good at lying either.

You were far from repulsive really.

You were fucking delectable, irresistible.

Sweet scent lingering in the apartment for hours, clinging to the fabric of the couch, the peeling wallpaper like the smoke of a cheap cigarette, clinging to his skin.

If he was that fucked up over your scent how heavenly would you be on his tongue?

He could imagine from what little he felt he could taste in the air during your full moon. Causing his vision to narrow on that steady strong pulse lying just beneath glowing skin.

He has to force himself to leave even if he's just fed, one whiff had him thirsty all over again. He'd turned full glutton from just the smell of you, draining a dozen at a time and yet no amount could please him.

His fangs poke his lower lip now, aching with the urge to sink into tender flesh from just the thought. His salvia already secreting that deadly addictive oxytocin that would bring euphoria to both parties.

He swallows hard but it does nothing to satiate his thirst.

His ever drying throat.

Scarlet eyes cut to the door as he hears the soft pad of your feet stop before the fragile wood that separates the beast from beauty. You rise your capable fist tapping the door gently.

"B..Bakugou..."Your voice is soft as you call through the thick oak. He smells salt in the air causing his stomach to twist.

Were you crying? His throat tightens, muscles screaming for him to move. That this moment, this vulnerability was a golden opportunity to wet those aching fangs. Blunt nails dig into heated palms as he hopes to wait you out but here you go again becoming wholly undeniable.

"Sorry to bother you." You say so softly he almost didn't catch it over the shuffling of your feet.

His heart breaks in two as he lunges for the door, biting back more than just his words.

"What, Y/LN?"

His eyes seem to glow blood red in the low light of the hall, causing you to step back.

There was an intensity to his gaze you could never quite place.

It was as if he hated you and wanted to consume you whole all at once.

Desire burns through your veins especially so when a soft caramel scent is wafted from his room.

You swallow thickly, red eyes dart down and fixate on your throat, a blush creeps over your skin from the obvious blooming bruises.

Why did you have to have your throat EXPOSED?!

Where were your normal oversized hoodies that hid away your sins that you now display openly?

Fading black bruises and pink teeth indents that drove him fucking wild.

Someone dared to mark you and a fucking weak mortal at that.

Bakugou didn't think you had a boyfriend or girlfriend for that matter but you had been smelling like the same male the past few times you ventured out only to return in the late hours of the night.

And long before this house arrest bullshit happened too.

He stares down, body rigid as he is almost fearful to move. One twitch of his finger could set him off, pouncing onto you to leave the markings of a true male.

Instead he grinds his teeth, canines scrapping the inside of his lip. All the while you begin to feel dumb for seeking comfort from a roommate who barely looked your way.

And when he did it set your skin ablaze. A cold sweat runs down your spine as you take a step back.

There wasn't a lot you were scared of in the world, what with being a hero and all.

But there was just something about your roommate that unsettled you.

Whatever it was it sat on the tip of your tongue and when the word was to tumble from your mouth you'd look into that heated gaze and the thought would combust into hot flames.

That licked over every inch of your body.

"I uh...." You stammer, dumbstruck for the first time in your life. Swallowing your pride almost choking on it as you half shout.

"I want to play a game or watch a fucking movie with someone. You can pick but..." He watches one arm cross beneath your breasts, pushing them up a tad, while the other hand covered your throat, making its way up to block your plush lips as you look away. He's noticed this about you in the past year of living with you.

Normally you hold your head high, voice boisterous ringing with confidence but you seemed to curl in on yourself when you spoke to him.

"But I just need someone right now." It comes out soft, borderline desperate as he watches your fingers punch harshly into the skin of your ribs.

He stares you down, fully taking in the bags beneath your eyes. The way your normally glowing skin is slightly lackluster and the red rims of your bottom eye lids.

He hasn't smelt you cook anything in the past few days and there weren't any snack for you to munch on in the house.

You can't stand how his red eyes slice through you like a scalpel. Blade so sharp you notice you're exposed much too late.

With an explosion of your limbs your hands are on your hips, teeth bared before you turn on your heel, yelling.

Fighting back angry, hurt tears.

"You know what, this was fucking stupid. Forget I ever..." A strong hand wraps around your bare bicep, warm to the touch.

"Quit being fucking dramatic and give a man a damn second to answer." He snarls, pulling back his hand as if he touched a burning stove, "I'll make something to eat."

"I'm not being dramatic!" You screech, wholly proving his point. His eyes narrow on the nape of your neck before watching your jaw clench and the quickening tick of that juicy artery.

Still you stomp to the living room, picking up voicing to the hologram to pull up the movie archive. Clearly picking for him.

There was no point in him making enough for two as eating never silenced the ever present growl in his belly or the ache in his teeth. For ever robbed the joy of eating, of cooking.

Everything tasted either tasted like soggy cardboard, salted sawdust, or like ashes of the ghost that food once was.

That's what Bakugou had hated the most about this curse that was placed on him almost a century ago was how much it stole from him.

His sense of taste.

His family.

His friends.

Some days even his desire to live.

He rounds the peninsula of the kitchen with what he's deemed your favorite, placing it into surprised hands.

He must have been right as blush creeps on your cheeks. You take a few bites still scrolling while your thoughts slowly take over.

When was the last time you'd seen him eat? He always cooks but then leaves the containers in the fridge for you with a sticky note scrawled with his roughly neat scrawl.

"Y/N, Eat this before it goes bad dumbass."

You tap the fork to your lips pondering over the mystery that is Bakugo Katsuki.

"Why don't you ever eat what you cook?" Your curiosity slips out in the form of a question. He side eyes you before nodding at your food silently demanding you finish eating.

"It’s never what I'm hungry for."

His voice sends goose flesh over your skin, hairs on your neck standing straight up before you swallow.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

Acting like this and in front of a guy you barely knew.

Well, that's partially a lie, you knew a little about him from observing him from time to time.

He'd stay up way too late and would come to the love seat only after he thought you were in deep sleep.

When he is really agitated his skin pops like little fireworks dancing along his forearms which usually only happened when someone named Deku called.

He'd do what he's doing now, despite the harsh look in his ever angry scarlet eyes he cooks for you.

Changes your laundry over when you forget with a scoff but most oddly he indulges you.

Like he is now, sitting squished on the love seat with you, legs spread just enough to avoid touching you.

You give him a glance and finish eating, finally selecting a movie as you're done.

His eyes widen for a moment as you select a movie that would have been considered old even in his time. It stirs odd feelings in his stomach.

"Really, there's 3D movies and shit. And you wanna watch a movie that's not even in color?" He snorts, you would pick this one wouldn't you?

"We must always remember the classics." Is all you say, settling in. Fluffing the blanket over you both and even having the audacity to lean closer to him. You notice his rigid muscles beneath you but you're so desperate for touch that leaning against this stiff board was far better than spending another night alone with your ever twisting mind.

Slowly he melts into your touch, gulping mouthfuls of your scent but enjoying you none the less.

Realizing that he too had been touch starved.

When was the last time he held someone in his arms?

Hell when was the last time he was this close to someone without feeding?

Ten, twenty years?

It didn't matter, he outlived them anyway so why bother getting attached.

Soon a comfortable quiet settles over the old apartment as it is painted in the soft tones of blacks and grays.

Voices mingling in the air as Bakugo silently agrees with some of the lines.

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

He feels that way about you, of all the cheap apartments you could have looked at online you chose his.

You with the smell like no other.

Sweet enough to somehow get him to watch this shitty movie again, he puts his head in his palm watching the old film play out.

How many times had he been forced to watch this in the common room of the dorms all those fucking years ago?

And then again in shared apartments when nothing else was on or when Bakugo would lose rock paper scissors.

"Remember, this gun is pointed right at your heart.”

"That’s my least vulnerable spot.” Bakugou grumbles in unison with the long gone actor.

Your ears perk, having never pegged him to like such a heart wrenching movie. You giggle, earning a glare and a bark.

"What?"

"Its just I never would have dreamed you'd ever sit down and watch this movie willingly."

"You're right. I wouldnt. Shitty hair..." He clears his throat, "Kirishima, for whatever fucking reason, used to love this movie. Said it was manly and honorable or some shit like that."

"Used to?" Silence stretches between the two of you for a moment until he sees you fully engaged on him.

His heart twists as he looks down on you and he begins to wonder if your quirk is to pull out unsolicited emotions. His fangs don't ache nearly as much as his chest as he pushes through the feeling.

A feeling he hardly allows himself to have. Thinking of his best friend who so hurt by this curse he refused to feed on humans.

But animals couldn't suffice, their bodies needing something in human blood in order to maintain their peak form.

It took him twenty years before he stopped eating all together.

And when he neared the end, neared the point of starvation where instincts would take over he amplified his quirk until he turned to stone.

Oddly enough he's a shrine relic now.

"He passed recently." Five decades was recent to Bakugou.

Your heart stills in your chest as you see real emotion bloom on his face. Cheeks slightly flushed, eyes almost watery as the bitter nostalgia washes over you in waves.

Without thought you lunge for him, wrapping sturdy arms around his neck to pull him into the comfort of your body as your fingers rake through his hair. Pushing his face against your warm skin.

His nose is pressing into your throat as your sickeningly sweet smell floods his mouth but that isn't even the worst part.

No the worst part is that he can feel your pulse against his lips.

It was like putting a starving dog in front of a steak and telling him not to eat.

Fuck.

His teeth grew on their own and he cannot stop himself as his strong arms wrap around you, pushing you ever closer before he sinks his aching canines into your tender flesh with a groan.

Oxytocin floods your system produced by both his body and your own.

He opens his mouth further, ready to suck in a mouthful of what he's been dying to taste. His pupils dilate and his pants grow tighter at the sound of your soft moan.

He is suffocating, drowning in the dizzying sweet smell that melds beautifully with that metallic tang he cannot get enough of. He wants to savor this sinful high before he has a taste.

Meanwhile you body sears and freezes all at once as a tingling sensation spreads through your body starting at the nape of your neck.

As if a ghost traces its finger along your spine causing you to turn into putty.

"Fuuuuck, Katsuki." You groan. The sound of his name leaving your lips feels as if he's been plunged in a pool of cold water.

He jumps away from you, nails biting into his palms hard enough that half blood moons will surely litter his hands.

Panting as he tries to keep his tongue away from his canines that drip deliciously maddening red.

Fearful if he gets even just a drop on his tongue he'll kill you.

He'll drain you dry and leave you to rot in the already decaying apartment.

It takes your head a moment to fall down from the stratosphere before the small holes in your throat close seamlessly with a sharp bite.

You press your hand to the wound, only small specks of blood not yet dried paint your palm.

Shocked eyes rove over the muscular body as things start to slowly piece themselves together.

The explosive temper, ash blonde hair, piercing red eyes, an intensity unmatched and that popping quirk he used when extremely agitated.

Instantly the picture in the old text book pops into mind as you imagine the man before you with a black cowl.

The whole section about his story, about how he and two other heroes had been attacked, bitten, by some immortal being. They shortly fell off the face of the Earth after that.

Mind going into overdrive as your memory floods with the text of files you've been assigned and the voice of the woman you just recently interviewed.

She was the same age as you. Later twenties, petite, long fire red hair with glossy eyes who was mysteriously left in front of the hospital. Suffering from severe blood loss but not a wound in sight.

Not even a fucking scratch.

And worst yet she wasn't the first one. There was one daily and dozens when it neared the ended of the month. Worst yet there was never any video of the perp, just a glitch in the frame before the victim is lying helplessly by the entrance.

Still her slurred words haunt you as you think of her response to your question.

"He was hot. Strong muscles, smelled sweet, like candy and nostalgia. He looked so familiar, like an old movie star or something...."

Or maybe she was thinking of an old hero.

"Ground Zero." The hero name sounds foreign to the panting blonde.

Shit when was the last time he heard that name?

The sound of his old alias brings up surging memories that fist fight with the smell of the blood on his fangs.

Of an overly arrogant boy who was so scared to fail he hardened his heart.

A heart that begin to break while he watched his idol fade away before his very eyes.

Slowly it was mended again from old misunderstood rivalries turned friendships and acquaintances turned family.

Only for them to age and crumple into dust as he stands witness with Father time.

All save one with emerald gems for eyes.

"When was the last time you ate?" It comes out harsh as you rack your brain for the name of that villain, the one that is said to still hide out in the outskirts of a run down city in the states.

You knew Bakugou wasn't that asshole who mutilated bodies after he fed. That much was apparent by his sheer will power to leave you be for the three months the two of you have been confined to these four walls.

But if it's been months like you think surely he cannot live that long with out eating right?

The slightest dark circles hang beneath those scarlet red eyes, cheeks a little paler than normal and his fangs.

Canines elongated, swelling up his gums a bit indicating his hunger, his thirst.

When he does not speak it confirms your theory and it lines up perfectly with the timeline of that woman.

His last meal much too long ago.

"Come, eat." You tap your throat with almost shaky fingers. Heart halfway breaking over the torture it must have been.

He snarls, unmoving ready to bolt for the door but worried he will give in to the ache in his teeth and throat.

Of gulping down every last drop your godly body had to fucking offer.

When he makes no move you grow impatient, allowing your quirk to shape shift your nails into claws.

"You fed me, I feed you. Now I'm telling you to eat." Your voice is commanding as you scratch deep grooves into your forearm followed by beads of dazzling red.

His eyes dilate unnaturally before he swallows thickly.

Getting just a small taste of your blood from his fangs before he is pressing you into the couch, forcing your arms behind your head as he licks a swipe up the wounds. A shudder runs through you both before you feel the skin pull taunt and close fully.

Only for pain to settle in your wrists as one strong hand holds them there before his free hand tilts your head away. Exposing that damn neck you had to press him to. He bites into that blessed artery before pulling harshly at the skin, deeming your flow not fast enough.

You taste far better than you smell and he has to be careful with you for fear he won’t be able to stop. Especially so with each encouraging mewl that leaves those lips and reverberates in his mouth.

His grip turns tighter as you look over him, eyes savoring his sculpted body beneath his tight tee and that bulge that rests in his tight black joggers.

You knee it teasingly causing him to snap away from your neck.

"Careful." A guttural growl, causing you to clench around nothing, "Don't start what you can’t finish."

"Oh I always finish what I start." You free your hands quickly, tugging at his joggers more than needing the treat that lies beneath. He catches your wrist, eyes darkening.

"This isn't how I normally feed."

"Then it's time to try something new." Silence stretches between the two of you, he tries so hard to resist. To tell himself he's had enough at least for now but he finds himself gravitating towards you.

Being pulled back into the heat of your kiss as if the two of you were tragically magnetic.

You positive and him negative.

He rips your camisole from your body exposing your breasts to him. Your skin is marred with more dying bites than he'd like. He smirks to himself as he thinks of you, this strong, brash being and it is hard for him to imagine you to be so submissive

To bend to the will of someone else.

He thinks he'd rather it just be for him.

You notice his smirk as he licks some blood from his lips, your stomach twists in anticipation. Not realizing how much you like those lips curved upward, even if it means he may devour you whole.

"What?" The smallest of blushes creeps along your skin as he leaves you exposed.

"Tch. You own yourself until you're in the bedroom and that's when you want to be marked." He presses kisses along your breasts and collar bone, biting over the fading hickies, "By the looks of these you went out not too long ago. Naughty girl."

He bites causing you to moan as he laps at the blood before removing his mouth. This time allowing all of the little bite wounds to stay open for a few minutes. Little bruises dance beneath the puncture holes. His eyes rake over your body, drinking in every detail as a slight shudder runs through you.

His thumb swipes over a small pink bite mark on your hip. He isn't sure why he feels so jealous over the thought of you lying beneath another man.

Of you gazing up at them in anticipation as their hands sully your skin.

Of their mouth littering your perfect skin with their half assed love bites.

He knows he shouldn't feel this way, you were a grown ass woman who wasn’t his.

Yet he was tempted to call you his own.

"These are pathetic." He murmurs as you watch him lean forward to replace the bite with his own.

His breath is warm on the hip bone before he slides those damn teeth in, giving you another hit of that intoxicating drug.

"Then show me how it should be done. Mark me as yours." He looks up at you, mouth still attached to your gorgeous skin. You fight the urge for your eyes to flutter as you stare him down. He removes himself, blood dripping from his lip.

You swallow fear and choke on desire as he rises above you, hovering over you as he corners you into the couch.

"You wouldn't be able to handle a true marking." His voice is dark, threatening as he leans in to nibble at your lip. Tips of his fangs indenting your plush bottom lip but never piercing the skin. You pull back a bit to better hold his gaze.

"I can handle it." Your voice cuts hard but your eyes scream fuck me harder as you gaze up at him under long lashes.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" His hand slip between your thighs, that you happily spread, to find you soaking, his nimble fingers swirl over a needy clit as you fight from turning into putty in his hands.

You need to be in control for just a moment longer, for just long enough to convince him you won't break so he could go all out.

"I know I can." Your eyes flash serious before returning to that bedroom look causing him to sheath himself in a harsh thrust.

Your head rears back into the couch, biting back the moan hard enough you taste blood.

Only for Katsuki to lean in, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. You watch his face contort before he shudders over top of you. You feel him twitch within you causing you to whimper, trying hard to get some sort of friction.

You never knew Bakugou Katsuki would like to play with his food.

"You're such a naughty slut aren't you, Princess?" He gives another harsh thrust, "Body begging to be fucked out."

How the fuck did he know you loved dirty talk?

"Can, can you read minds?" You pant and he laughs darkly. It's an oddly pleasant sound as it echoes back to you.

"No..." He leans in kissing you until you feel desperate for breath before he presses his forehead to yours, "When I feed I feel their strongest emotions temporarily. If I mark you, make you mine for all the world to fucking see I'll feel your most intense emotions and vice versa. Always or until the bond is broken."

He squeezes your ribs until they groan beneath his touch as he reads your expression.

Where you turned off, were you no longer wanting to be marked? You lean up to bite at his lower lip. Pulling as you ease back down.

"Then make me yours, Katsuki."

"Maybe." He kisses your throat, testing the waters with each thrust until he's set a brutal pace.

Causing a coil to quickly tighten in your stomach.

He plunges into you, wholly, figuratively, lapping at your throat before nipping in your ear as you moan loudly.

"You're taking my cock so well Princess." He praises causing you to clench around his length. His own eyes threaten to roll in the back of his head and he wonders when the last time he has ever felt so in tune with some.

If he ever really has.

The couch hits into the half wall with sharp percussion as Bakugou pulls all but a scream from your lips, nails turning to claws ripping his shirt to threads before they scrape down his back.

He takes bites of you here and there as he thrusts into your throbbing cunt, hitting your clit with his pelvic bone as he bottoms out in you with each harsh snap of his hips.

"Fuuuuck. Katsuki." Is all you can say over and over as he brings you to your first high of the night.

A sweat prickles over your sensitive skin as the coil in your stomach snaps convulsing beneath him as your legs lift from his back.

Eyes fluttering, head thrown back and throat exposed to him as your pussy attempts to milk him dry, coaxing him ever closer to his own climax.

Shuddering as he feels yours in his own blood.

Red eyes drinking in the sight of you, messy sex hair, cheeks and lips red from the rush of blood, body spasming due to his thrusts.

He takes a hand and swirls across your puffy bud, tongue licking at your perked nipple send you into an over stimulated series of body rocking orgasms paired with the high you feel that drips from his fangs with each bite.

You pant heavily, body going limp after your sixth Earth shattering release, vision blurring and all you can see is red.

You can barely hold into his biceps, one hand trying so hard to pull at the ash blonde that sits at the nape of his neck.

He enjoys the sight of you fucked out, border line having your tongue stuck out as if you were making an aehego face.

And all of it just for him.

"What's wrong kitten? Can't finish what you started?" He asks cruelly teasing you ever close to yet another high. You smirk up at him weakly, trying so hard to respond without sounded totally exhausted.

"I can." You use the last of your energy to buck back into him a few more times before he presses his hands to your hips, leaning to growl in your ear.

"Save your energy Princess. I plan to make a round two. Can you last just a bit longer?" His voice softens near the end, fully sending you what you were fighting tooth and nail to avoid.

That ever dangerous subspace as you've fully opened your heart to someone whose true identity you just learned.

Hell, you guess that was better than doing it for someone whose name you didn’t even know as you've done before.

"Yes, Katsuki-sama." You gasp out causing an unexpected chill to run along his spine. He looks down at you in your radiant glory and decides right then.

He decides that he cannot stand the thought of anyone else causing you to look like this. For anyone else to cause your walls to crumple as you expose yourselves wholly.

Or the idea of anyone being able to taste you.

And with his mark not only will other vampires avoid you but anyone who is sexually attracted to you will feel his gaze even if he is not there.

His thrusts turn sloppy as he chooses to give you what they call a mate's mark.

This one will be even more intense than what he originally debating on doing.

He sinks his teeth into you, a groan echoes back to you competing with the sound of your drenched core being pounded into as blood fills his mouth.

He struggles to deposit the right amount of venom because if he puts too much you will be close to losing your free will.

Just as he pushes in the right amount you shatter beneath him, cunt becoming so tight he cannot stand it and he fills you to the brim with seed thrusts harsh to make sure you receive every last drop.

Your body vibrates and stills all at once as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Voice going so high it becomes raw before you quiet beneath him.

He removes his teeth from your throat, lapping at the spilling blood hopeful that he has neither drank too much nor given you far too much venom.

He holds his breath with each passing heart beat fear seeps into his bones. Stilling him to his core, your eyes should be opening any second.

He repeats the mantra over and over fearing your pulse is getting weaker, eyes hardly fluttering.

He swallows, the bittersweet after taste of you settles on the back of his tongue, whispering what he always seems to forget.

That not everyone he's marked has woken up.

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