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sehodreams · 6 months

Text

last day surprises

TW and Tags: slasher!Wonbin, mentions of violent acts (death of a character), heavy dubcon/almost noncon (well... hard to explain), dark!riize, blowjob, p in v, no condom.

WC: 3.4k

Summary: Wonbin swore he had changed, he was better, he had a job he liked, and he had met you, so why did you have to ruin everything?

Comment: don't you hate when I'm such a cunt? having a thousand unfinished drafts I decided to write something nobody asked for. I just wrote this because I NEEDED TO WRITE SOMETHING TO NOT LOSE MY MIND, I've been swamped with work so I wanted to relax a bit, it's something I did pretty quick so it probably has inconsistencies and grammar mistakes (when have I done a fic with perfect grammar in first place?).

Breathing as silently as you could, you watched the shadows moving in the dim light of the night that trespassed the curtains of your room.

Tears were still flooding and your shoulders were shaking, but you couldn’t do anything about it, even if you tried to force yourself to stop, they kept moving on their own, and the only thing you could do was bite your lip and cover your mouth with the palm of your hand, praying with open eyes that god, if there was even one, helped you and let you live at least one more day.

One more day and your cab would go for you in the morning, just like you had planned with your best friend the day before.

The thumb of his steps over the hardwood kept tricking your mind into believing he was far away from the closet you were hiding in, and you had thought that perhaps God had given you the gift of protecting you, but he was the one making the decisions at that moment, he was playing God, and he wasn’t as kind.

If only your friend had never teased him. If only she had listened to you and had left him alone. If only.

‘’You’re too noisy’’ he opened the door and you tried to close it back immediately, nails almost breaking from how much force you were using to not let the door go, gripping on it to not let him in (or to not let him drag you out).

‘’I didn’t do anything’’ you cried and did your best to fight him, ‘’I swear I never laughed’’.

‘’Don’t lie to me’’ the same hand that prepared your cold drinks when you woke up, that carried your bags and held the door open for you when you arrived now held it to stop you from closing it, ‘’I saw you, you were laughing with her, you’re just like her’’.

‘’Wonbin, I never laughed at you, I swear, I always treated you good’’ you tried to make him remember, ‘’We talked a lot, don’t you remember? I told you about my family, and my job, and my home.’’

Your voice waved with every word that left your mouth, and when you thought he was finally weakening, he used more of his strength to create a bigger gap between the door and the frame, enough for one of his arms to enter and grab one of your wrists and tighten it to hurt you.

You hissed, trying to shake him off, but it was useless, and soon, when he got tired of your little game, he completely pulled the door open, pulling you with the same strength and rage, grabbing your hair instead of your wrist, dragging you out of your cave.

‘’Liar’’ he repeated with his stern voice, full of hate, and with a touch of what seemed like pain and deception. ‘’You’re just like her, and you’ll end up just like her’’.

His grip on your scalp made your head burn, and you closed your eyes and cried his name when he dragged you to his feet.

Not knowing what else to say, you don’t know why you said it, but you didn’t have many options to ponder, so you said the first thing that came to your mind ‘’I-I never agreed with her, I thought you were cute, I think you are cute, really’’.

You felt the weight of your words on your head, when his hand debilitated for a second, and you felt a light of hope illuminating you, the same ray of light that infiltrated between the curtains and that told you how late it was.

‘’Then why aren’t you looking at me?’’ he asked, tugging even harder your hair, making you yelp in pain before you answered.

‘’I’m- I’m’’ I’m scared, you wanted to say, but you knew it would make him angrier. ‘’I’m sorry’’.

You opened your eyes, looking at his feet first, dirty brown shoes covering them, to then move your eyes up, passing through his dark pants, and his silver black belt, arriving at where you were trying to avoid when you closed your eyes.

His shirt still had your friend’s blood drenching its front, and you could even distinguish the prints of her hands when she tried to push him away.

His green-striped shirt was the last thing your friend teased him for, telling him how he looked like a creep when you two arrived from your night walk.

You saw how his eyes were different after she left the comment in the air, and you had no idea why, but all your instincts said he wasn’t in the mood for it, so you quickly pushed her inside when he opened the door for you, telling her with your eyes to shut up when she lifted one of his eyebrows at your attitude.

But she never listened.

Hours later when the lights went out in your shared room, she decided to go to the first floor of the old cabin to leave a piece of her mind one last time before the two of you left first hour the next morning.

‘’Can’t believe I paid so much for this shithole’’ your friend said, leaving you alone while you took a shower, wait for me, you screamed under the water, but she was already gone when you finished getting dressed in the darkness.

You found your phone as you could in the obscure room and turned on your flashlight to walk down the stairs and search for her.

Five minutes later, after calling her name numerous times, receiving no answer from her, inside the kitchen, you saw her body on the floor, blood pooling around her and dirtying your sandals, liquid touching your feet and starling you with the wet sensation before you illuminated her and saw her lifeless eyes.

You screamed and your phone slipped from your hands, falling to the pond and splashing the red fluids to your bare legs with the fall.

His steps, because of the shoes he wore all the time, boots perfect for the woods but heavy on the floor, made soundly thuds, indicating how close he was to you.

Running to one of the single rooms on the first floor, you tried to hide from whoever was out there, but deep inside, you knew who did it.

And you weren’t wrong, your hunch, as almost always, was right.

Your hunch had told you to treat him good, to sweetly say good morning and ramble about the weather and other things you saw with your friend while he prepared breakfast and she got dressed for the day.

Wonbin wasn’t exactly bad at the start, he was just… different.

He never smiled when you two arrived, he didn’t even dare to maintain eye contact, and when you talked with him sometimes you felt you were talking more to the air than to a person, but there was something inside you that pushed you to be overly nice to him, perhaps the same thing that pushed your friend to treat him like shit.

‘’You’re still not looking at me’’ his voice interrupted the memories of you telling your friend to not treat him like that, and you had to move your eyes from the stain on his shirt to his face.

His blonde dry hair seemed lighter at night, almost white, and you sobbed when your eyes inspected his face and a drop of his own blood dripped down his cheek because of a scratch.

It definitely was product of your friend’s manicure, nails always long and sharp enough to cut skin, she once even hurt you when you tried to hold her hand while you were walking through a tough area in the woods and she tripped over one of the many rocks, so it wasn’t hard to deduce how he got that cut there.

‘’I’m sorry Wonbin, I’m sorry’’ you didn’t know what you were apologizing for, it was the only sentence that came out of you.

‘’How sorry are you?’’ he replied to your constant mumbles.

You couldn’t answer, how sorry were you? You didn’t do anything at all, you shouldn’t even feel like that, but there you were, on your knees, with his hand on your hair, his eyes looking down at you, and your heart flinching of fear.

‘’Show me how sorry you are’’ he continued.

The same hand holding you in place pushed your face to his crotch, a bulge was already there, and your breath hitched when you understood what he wanted.

‘’I never- I’ve never done it’’ you sobbed, palms over his thighs to stop your chest from touching him.

Your cheek was pressing his zipper, which felt cold and slightly painful against the soft skin of your face.

‘’I never let anyone free either, there’s a first time for everything’’ he answered, both hands now resting over your head and pressing you to give him what he wanted.

He smelled earthy, like the wet puddles near the river, and you somehow found yourself inhaling the aroma again, to maintain you sane and ignore the stronger smell of your friend’s blood in his shirt had.

With shaky hands you pulled down the zipper, the sound extremely notorious in the quiet house, and your sobs were quickly silenced with his cock intruding your mouth.

He let you take your time with it, sighing with the superficial licks you gave to his shaft, letting you get used to it before he ordered you to open your mouth enough to accept him inside.

At least he wasn’t rough, his hand wasn’t a grip on your hair anymore from the moment he made obvious his needs, posing on the back of your head and even caressing it while guiding you.

Not daring to interrupt the sudden softness he had with you, you let him use you, as if you were only an object for him to satisfy himself, and it was wrong, but you found yourself not hating it.

Your brain turned off for a second, a line of saliva escaping your lips when he pulled out and pushed back in with a deep thrust, making you dizzy with his flavor, and an unrecognizable pressure started to build in your abdomen.

Tears kept rolling down your cheeks, it was horrendous how you were giving the first blowjob of your life to your friend’s killer, and it was even worse that you weren’t dying to push him away from your face.

‘’Shit’’ he exhaled when you started to move your head on your own, choking yourself with his length and gripping on his pants with the pressure traveling from the pitch of your abdomen to your cunt. ‘’You like sucking cock, uh? Were you lying when you said you had never done it before too?’’

You stopped for a second, wrapping one of your hands to the base of his cock to move it up and down while you talked. ‘’I’m not a liar’’ you defended yourself.

You never lied, you did think Wonbin was cute.

Even with his terrible outfits, his ugly straw-like hair and his awkward attitude, he gave you unusual amounts of attention you had enjoyed, like always receiving you with fresh juice when you walked down the stairs and preparing bags with things you might need in the forest.

Your friend had noticed it too, saying how it was his job and for you to not get swayed, he was only the service there, and the treatment you received wasn’t anything special, but you knew why she was like that, resentful, because she wasn’t the one receiving it, and you, her fat friend, were doing it when it should be her.

Grabbing you by the hair again, he dragged you to the only bed in the room, covered by a clean set of bedsheets, laid flawlessly by him, without a single wrinkle in sight, until he tossed you over them and ruined the perfect image he had created.

He felt you were sincere when you said you weren’t a liar, but how could you think he was cute? No one had ever called him that, saying how his face was frightening instead, with those big eyes and his forever dark gaze studying them, hating his equally black hair so much that he decided to dye it to avoid those comments.

It didn’t work, they said how he looked even more like a freak now, and he thought he had left those violent responses well behind in his life, until your friend appeared and broke him again.

She wasn’t the only one breaking him though, you had played a significant part in his mind wanting to repeat past patterns, he even swore he could’ve ignored her if you hadn’t laughed that day.

It was just hours ago, before your daily walk, that he recognized the gray clouds gathering in the sky, and that his body moved on his own, running to give you one of the raincoats he had stored for emergencies. He gave you the coat with a small smile, and you accepted it with a wide one, making him feel something warm install in his chest, making him weak for you.

He thought you were different, and then he heard you laughing when your friend called him an idiot, finishing the job your friend had started so eagerly since you two arrived there.

You had laughed because you thought he was adorable.

‘’Take your shorts off’’ he ordered, watching you stay still in the bed, tears flooding and your hands shaking on your sides. ‘’I’m getting tired of you not listening.’’

You heard him clear, and not wanting to see what he would do when he got fed up with your behavior, your hands tucked down your baby blue pajama shorts.

When you watched them slide down your legs you saw how little red dots appeared on the fabric and the dry blood scrap down like old paint.

His hands were clean, unlike his clothes, so it was probably he was washing them when you walked down the stairs.

They felt cold over your thighs when he made you open your legs for him, and you shivered for the sensation of his big palms touching your large thighs.

He put force into his grip to see how deep into your skin he could go, thinking how good it would feel to sink into your bare skin.

Moving your panties to the side, he was welcomed by your shiny entrance leaking for him. ‘’Fuck, are you enjoying this?’’ he asked, happily surprised by your excitement, ‘’You’re even sicker than me.’’

You didn’t like that affirmation, but you didn’t want to deny anything to him anymore.

His thumb grazed your clit teasingly, enjoying how the little bud jumped in front of his eyes and you shook from something else than fear.

You would rather die than admit it, but it felt good.

‘’You like it so much’’ he said more to himself, showing you the first wide smile you had ever seen from him since you got to that place.

He licked his thumb and groaned at your flavor, admiring you there for a good minute. Your hair was ruffled, your gleamy eyes were looking at his, and your chest was moving up and down, making your hard nipples noticeable through the white t-shirt you wore to sleep. When he saw you wearing your pajama a couple of days earlier, you keeping him company while he made your breakfast, he had salivated more to the picture of your round unsupported chest calling for him to taste them than to the fresh food in his hands.

Now that he had you dripping for him, pussy clenching around nothing, waiting for him to touch it again, he pushed his middle and ring finger inside you.

Knuckles deep, he felt his cock twitching every time you moaned his name when he shoved his fingers with force in and out, biting his lip to not moan at the feeling of you making a mess in his hands.

‘’Fuck-fuck’’ you let your head fall, and you should’ve wanted him to stop, but you were so close to your orgasm, you closed your eyes to ignore the reality of the moment, permitting him to touch you, only begging to cum inside your mind.

His hands pushing your legs up made you aware of your surroundings again.

You couldn’t even ask him what he was doing when he plunged inside you, sliding his cock without any kind of signal, forcing your walls open to accept his length.

It was a pain you had never felt before, a good pain, but the stretch had burned a little, making you whine as a response.

He, on the other hand, sighed of relief, shuddering at the long-missed sensation of a warm real person accepting him.

Messily moving his hips, he didn’t wait for you to get used to him, and he thrusted as deep as he could, completely bottoming out, making you slightly bounce in the bed with each hard smack.

Your skin and his were creating a loud echo inside the room and you moaned his name with how good he was fucking you.

You honestly would’ve enjoyed it so much, free of guilt, if he hadn’t done that. You would’ve even pulled him closer to you if only your friend’s blood wasn’t drenching your t-shirt too.

‘’Take it off’’ your fingers tried to reach for the hem of his shirt, but he kept with his rhythm, groaning with your velvet walls perfectly wrapping him, ‘’please, please.’’

The begging was hot too, but he didn’t want to do it, so he only stopped his movements to take yours off instead.

You lifted your arms for him, and when he had the impure fabric in his hands, he decided to clean some of the sweat accumulating in his forehead with it, tossing it to the floor when he finished.

He looked strangely handsome when he did it, like a normal man you would’ve met in the city, maybe in a club or a bar, one of the kind that usually ignored you to dance with your friend.

But he was with you that night, and you cried when he went back to fucking you, remembering that he wasn’t just any man, making you feel even dirtier with his wet shirt sticking to your abdomen.

It was on purpose, he couldn’t hide it, the amused breath he let out told you how much he wanted to taint you too.

Launching to your breast, he rocked into you while his mouth maintained itself busy with your nipples, taking turns with his hand, making eye contact until you felt the past interrupted orgasm coming back.

He looked so drunk with your chest and your cunt, you couldn’t help but moan louder when the same hand playing with your nipple went down, pushing its way between his solid abdomen and your soft tummy, until it found your clit.

You were already clamping his cock when he started to play with your clit, and he left your chest to moan on your mouth when you cried and writhed under him.

Spreading your legs wider, you didn’t care that his shirt felt disgusting against your skin anymore, or that his steaming breath was directly falling in your open mouth, you simply wanted to cum.

His mouth joined yours when you said his name one more time, a broken Wonbin that made him weak once again, pressing his lips against yours while his hips rutted harder into you to help you obtain your well-deserved orgasm.

He came not much after, letting all in your insides, painting you with his cum to mark you.

You were his the minute you smiled at him and said his hair was pretty the first morning of your stay.

‘’One time is not enough to earn my forgiveness’’ he said, and you eagerly nodded.

You convinced yourself that, when you straddled his lap, it was because you wanted to live, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he had made you cum for the first time in your life and how you wanted to feel it again.

The next morning you woke up with his weight sinking in the mattress and his hand moving your hair out of your face, making you open your eyes to see him staring at you with a tenderness you had never seen before. He was wearing a clean change of clothes, but with a particularly weird aroma, like the smoke after a campfire.

‘’It’s raining, roads are closed until it stops’’ he murmured to not startle you, ‘’sorry honey’’ he finished, and you closed your eyes, tired of thinking, only praying that your cab didn’t ask you to reschedule, because you doubted he hadn’t burned your things too.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #dark!riize #wonbin x reader #wonbin smut #please read tw

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

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AITA for bitching about fics I dislike on my blog?

as a foreword, this is kind of a non-issue and no one's ever told me to stop, but I'm curious what other people think of fandom etiquette.

the fandom: a fairly small one. 2.4k fics on ao3 small. I recognize most people posting in its tumblr tag small. if I tell you the name of the source you'd almost definitely be able to find me small.

the source: pornographic, which means everyone involved is or should be an adult. it's BL with a switch MC, but the fandom overwhelmingly prefers bottom MC/top LIs (love interests), to the point where I've had people be astonishingly rude to me because my favorite character is a bottom LI and some of my friends have been outright harassed for the same. I used to not care about sex positions in the slightest, but now when I see bottom MC fanworks I can't help but remember how poorly I was treated.

the fics: wildly and inexplicably popular, even though they are, frankly, poorly written. it's eternal bottom MC turned up to 11, complete with copious amounts of OOCness in order to turn every ship into the worst ye olde yaoi gender roles dynamic you can imagine. it's things like MC, canonically a 23yo plank of a dudeguy, being written as a big titted milf in his 40s (which is made more confusing by the fact that one of the LIs is already a big titted milf). it's also things like the MC being written as disliking sex and having to be coerced into it when one of the most charming things about him is that he's a hilarious sex pest, or writing the LIs sexually harassing the MC when they really would never do that. I've likened it to replacing the characters with OCs that share the same name and my friends have agreed with me. I'm honestly convinced that the author and his readers don't actually like any of the characters if they feel the need to change everyone so thoroughly.

why I might be an asshole: it's assholish to hate on free fanworks, and I've bitched about these fics on my public tumblr blog. the fandom is small enough that there's a non-zero chance of it getting back to the author and a reasonable chance that fans of the fics have seen my bitching. I'm probably projecting the hostility I've received onto someone who's done absolutely nothing to me, and I am absolutely just straight up jealous that their fics get better stats than mine. I may also be being an asshole to myself, because being critical of other people's fics has made my hypercritical of my own.

why I don't think I'm an asshole: I think everyone has the right to be bad at things, but I also think everyone has the right to be a little hater. I don't put the fandom tag on these posts; they stay on my blog and my blog alone, and if later on I feel like I was unfairly vitriolic I'll delete the posts. I only post on tumblr because I'm certain the author in question only uses twitter, which dramatically lowers the odds of him stumbling across my posts. the fics are so popular that it's definitely possible that their fans would see my posts, but I think it's unlikely that they'd bother looking at my blog because 99% of my posts are about one of the bottom LIs. I have never and would never leave comments on the fics themselves, and I generally try to keep the bitchy posts to a minimum; it's far from a constant thing.

tl;dr - I publicly bitch about fics that (in my opinion) are poorly written and extremely OOC, under the assumption that it's unlikely the author would ever see it. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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syninplays · 6 months

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So uhm... I did a thing...

✨Character Info Template✨

Been meaning to do this a long time ago (and actually started it but never finished it, lol) as a way to share some more information about my ocs without needing to use a custom page theme, but mostly because I haven't found any page theme that looks exactly as I want and allows this much customization.

There are two versions and both are almost exactly the same; but the example shown in the left has an 'appearance' section which is small and has few quick facts regarding the oc's appearance; while the example on the right has a 'moodboard' section instead which allows you to add more info about your oc.

You can change every section/title to fit your needs like I did in the examples below; I personally removed some categories as well and got rid of some connections as this oc doesn't have that many close friends/partners to fill the original template. However, I also included an extra separated 'connections' section in the download in case you want to add more people and more information.

I recommend you stick to square-shaped pictures so it's easier to fit them to each section. Also if and when you edit the information or section titles, please select only one line at a time to replace it so you don't lose the text format. (Titles shouldn't change because that's a single format/font within the same text box, but should it change you can always hit ctrl+z hehe) When you're done, I strongly recommend you save this as a .png instead of .jpg so it's the best possible quality!

Last but not least, this is a .psd file. So you'll need either Photoshop (I did this with Photoshop Portable, but it supports newer versions of PS and it *should* support older versions too) or Photopea to open and edit this file.

Credits: Adobe Photoshop, Inter font, Golften Vintage font

>DOWNLOAD< (patreon but free :p)

(note: I'm posting this with my gaming blog because I think my fellow gamers might be interested in this, but please consider giving credits to me if you use this template by tagging @synindoodles instead of this blog)

More info on how to use and edit this template below the cut!

Layers:

>Each layer is properly named and categorized. The general layers such as the background, the icon shape and background shapes are under the groups.

>If you don't want to see/don't need one of the connections' pictures and information, I recommend you find which one it is (1, 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6) and click on the eye symbol next to the layer to hide it so that way if you ever need it, it won't be truly gone.

>To edit a text section, simply find the layer (such as General Information>Left Column) and double click on the 'T' symbol next to the layer. That way it will open edit mode and allow you to edit the text, just don't hit delete or enter while everything is selected or you'll erase it :p

>Main text sections aren't separated, they're blocks of text. I recommend you don't remove the amount (for example, if you downloaded the version with the 'appearance' section, which has 5 sections of information, don't remove the fifth line.) Either leave it empty or replace it with another data, otherwise it will look weird. The 'general information' section might look good even if you remove a few lines, just don't get rid of the whole block of text.

Pictures:

>To add a new picture, simply paste it over this document and move it using the Move Tool.

>To frame it (so it becomes a circle or fits over the shape you want), make sure the picture layer is over the layer you want, then while holding alt click between the two layers. [For example, if you want to add a new main oc picture: 1) paste the pic you want, 2) move it with the Move Tool so it's covering the big circle, 3) once you've fully covered the shape (if it isn't you can resize it by right clicking on it then on 'free transform', sometimes you might need to hold shift to proportionally resize it) make sure the newly pasted pic layer is over the layer named "picture goes here", 4) hold the alt key and hover your mouse cursor over the line between your pic layer and the circle layer until you see an arrow going down symbol, once you see it click it and tah dah! your picture should now have the same shape as the circle! - you can further move it if it doesn't fit the way you want with the Move Tool (;

Others:

>You can change every color, font and section to your liking, just don't change the general layout of the template.

>To hide/show the guides (those bright blue lines all over the document), click ctrl+,

>'Inter' is a free font and you can get it in the link above (linked with the credits), Golften Vintage is not, but you can get the demo version >here< (just scroll down and click the blue download button under license). I will not tell you how to install fonts as it might be different for everyone (for me it's C:/Windows/Fonts and I just drop the zipped files (except the .txt one) there), but google is your friend.

>I can't think of anything else that needs to be said here, but if you have any other question feel free to send me an ask or dm and I'll help you out!

>Last but not least, a like is appreciated if you plan to use this plus consider tagging @synindoodles if you use it <3

#psd template #template #characters page #muses page #muse page #muse template #character template #character page template #oc page #oc page template #synindoodles #rp resources #rp template #roleplay resources #roleplay template #writers resources #writing resources #writing template #writers template

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

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Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe One - The Original

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

In every universe there's a version of you that exists. In some of those universes, you're in love with me; in others, you don't even know my name. None of it matters though, because when I find you, I will have you, I'll make you love me, and I will never lose you again.

Inclusivity

Reader is not race coded, reader lives in New York in North America but isn't necessarily American, reader is not religion coded, reader is smaller than Miguel but like so is almost everyone, reader is female.

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, obsession, Miguel is not Spider-Man, does NOT take place in the MCU, Miguel is a physicist, Miguel needs therapy, smut, violence, blood play, yandere, protective, obsessive, possessive, murder, suicide, drunk driving, anal sex, oral sex, major character death, romance, angst. - Some (not as triggering) tags were left out in order to avoid spoilers.

Word Count: 2.6k

It was a morning like every other.

You opened your eyes, taking in your surroundings, feeling the stirring of Miguel while he snored against your chest. Looking over at the clock, you noticed it wasn’t quite seven yet, and it would still be a few minutes before your alarm sounded, signaling it was time for you both to get ready for work. He shifted a little, smacking his lips together before going back to his mouth-breathing slumber. Precious.

You’d only been married for a year, but it was a perfect year. It was a year filled with tear-inducing laughter, eating takeout on the couch, and afternoon naps when you and Miguel both managed to get the day off together. You couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your forever, and you knew he felt the same.

You carded your fingers through his dark hair as you lay there, enjoying the scent of his shampoo and wondering if you’ll ever get tired of it. Something about it made your heart swell, and it reminded you that you were home. He rolled his cheek into your torso more, mouth still open and creating a dark spot on your shirt where drool spilled out. A sharp snore erupted from him as he stirred, startling you. You giggled, feeling silly for jumping so suddenly.

That sound – He loved that sound.

Your sweet little laugh that permeated through everything, that woke him out of the deepest sleep, that brought him back to the present every single time he heard it. He looked up at you, his breath always catching in his chest at the sight of you, so beautiful in every single way; nothing could change how you made him feel.

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from his stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

You started to slide out of bed, but he caged you in with his ridiculously strong arms, keeping you in place and mumbling something incoherent against your stomach.

“Baby, we have to get going. I have that big meeting today with the art director at the firm, and you have to pitch your idea to the board,” you said, tapping his shoulder.

He looked up at you again, eyes still hooded from sleep. He sighed, leaning up on his elbows and pressing his lips against yours hungrily. Miguel seemed to growl sometimes when he got in the heat of passion with you. His massive hand grabbed your hip and pulled you under him further, while the other cupped the back of your head to make the impossibly deep kisses even deeper.

“We have a few minutes,” he insisted, reaching between you both to pull his sweats around his thighs.

You moaned, another sweet sound you made that Miguel could record and listen to on repeat for an eternity. Such a simple noise and yet it made a shiver run down his spine almost every time he heard it. He brushed the head of his cock against your inner thigh, making your skin slick with his precum. He pulled aside your panties, not bothering to take them off; he wanted you now, and removing them would take too much time.

No matter how long you and Miguel had been together, and no matter how many times he split you open, you never quite got used to the stretch. You gasped, arching your chest into his with that first thrust, giving him the opening to wrap both arms around your back and pull you close. You loved the sound of his fast and desperate breaths while he huffed in your ear, chasing his release, and trying to make sure you got yours too. He knew exactly how to position himself to ensure he hit all the right spots, not that it would be difficult given his size; he hit almost every spot.

“Oh, hermosa, always so tight, so wet…” he grunted as he slid forward again full to the hilt.

“F-fuck, Miguel!” You dug your nails into his back, putting your lips against his chiseled chest.

“Use your teeth on me, baby, give me something nice to look at when I change out of my lab coat tonight,” he said playfully before feeling your teeth latch onto his tanned skin.

He let out a low groan, enjoying the combined pain and pleasure. He snapped his hips forward and you cried out. He buried his face into your neck, pulling your mouth off his chest. He wanted to smell you; in an almost feral way, Miguel wanted to pull you close and devour you. He sucked on your neck, drawing some of the tender skin into his mouth, nipping and licking while you turned into a gasping, writhing mess beneath him.

“So perfect, honey-fuck—“

You gasped as he started fucking you faster, driving his cock deep into your fluttering cunt. You felt like you were going to rip in half, as you often did when he was inside of you. He cupped the back of your head and looked into your eyes. Fuck he loved you. With other guys you’d dated, there was always an air of doubt, but never with Miguel.

He kissed you, tangling his tongue with yours. You whined into his mouth, he loved the way he could send you reeling with his cock alone. You took him so well, you were perfect.

“I could fill you up forever, you know that?” He asked before bottoming out in your warm channel once more. “Could spend a lifetime stuffing you with my cum and it wouldn’t be enough, hermosa.”

Miguel always knew just what to say to make you come undone. You felt the heat pooling in your core, the sensation he’d given you time and time again. Your body was both vibrantly alive and tingling numb all at once. You dug your nails into his shoulders once more, he winced and hissed.

“Oh shit, baby—ah!”

Miguel’s pace slowed but he didn’t stop the rocking of his hips as he pumped you full of hot cum. You felt it spilling into you, painting your walls white while he fucked you through it. You helped him along as you reached your own climax, your tight cunt milking his cock for every last drop it could give you. Your screams filled the house, as they always did when he made you lose your mind.

He always felt like he had to use every ounce of his strength to avoid crushing you underneath his mass after he was spent. You kissed his cheek, like you always did when the two of you were done being intimate. He chuckled before pulling out of you and getting off the bed. Miguel went to the bathroom and cleaned up before tossing a towel your way.

“Honey, a couple girls from the office wanted to go out for drinks tonight so I think I’ll join them, that okay?” You finished cleaning yourself up before making your way to the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.

“Who’s going?” He spit in the sink.

“Stacy and Mira.” You finished using the toilet before starting the shower.

“Those two? Really?”

He wiped his mouth and turned to you while you stepped into the shower. Miguel didn’t consider himself the controlling or possessive type, but those two had a tendency to be wild and unpredictable. He wasn’t going to tell you no. He didn’t get a woman like you by treating you as though you were his property, but he was going to make it known that he wanted you to be careful.

“I know, I know,” you said as you started washing yourself, “I’ll be careful, daddy. I’ll be home at 10:30 on the dot.”

He chuckled, “you know if you keep calling me that, I might have to take you back to bed, hermosa.”

You laughed and continued getting ready. You knew he wasn’t a fan of your work friends, but that wasn’t going to stop you from going out anyway. It’s not that you were a party girl, in fact your idea of a good time was curling up on the couch with Miguel and a good movie. It was just nice to get out for a little while and forget about the struggles of life.

Miguel always -always- kissed you goodbye before you both left for work. Even if you’d had an early morning disagreement, leaving you both pissed off and ready to ring each other’s necks, he made sure to kiss you.

“Adiós, mi vida,” he pressed his lips to yours just before you got into your car.

There were so many things that he would spend his life wondering, like: did you know you weren’t ever going to step foot in that house again? Did you know that was the last time you would ever get in your car to go in for another mundane day at work? Did you know that would be the last time you’d ever kiss your husband?

Probably not…but he would never forget.

Miguel was woken at 10:53pm that night out of a dead sleep to a knock on the door. He jumped up, noticing immediately that you weren’t in the bed with him. There was another knock, louder this time.

He knew. Deep down he knew that something had happened to you. With a shaking hand, he opened the door. You weren’t dead, and with that he found some relief, but your odds of survival were slim. Three dumb girls left the bar that night, one of which was too drunk to drive, but you let her drive you anyway. Only one of you had survived the accident, and it was you.

Miguel didn’t care that your face was disfigured, or that you were missing five teeth. He didn’t care that you weren’t going to be able to walk again, or that you might need him to spoon feed you for the rest of your lives together. He only cared that you were still breathing, even if it was labored and sounded like someone sucking the last of their beverage through a straw.

“I got here as fast as I could,” your step-sister, Emily, arrived at the hospital just an hour after Miguel had.

She put a hand on Miguel’s back as she sat next to him in the waiting room, seeing how distraught he was. With a heavy sigh, she brought both hands together and held onto her coffee cup as though her life depended on it. He could see her shaking, but he was still too angry for empathy. In fact, he thought to himself that he was glad the other two women had died, because if they hadn’t…he might’ve just killed them himself.

“How’s she do–”

“Not good,” he snapped, looking over at her.

“Oh, Miguel…” she wiped a tear from his face, “she’ll pull through, she always does.”

Except this time, you didn’t. You lived for forty-two more painful hours before your lungs collapsed and there was nothing any of them could do to save you. It was like his heart had been ripped out and trampled by a stampede.

Mi vida.

He thought about killing himself that night; considered taking the gun out of the safe he kept in the closet, holding the barrel to his skull and pulling the fucking trigger. There was nothing -nothing- that mattered to him more than you, and nothing that ever would matter more than you.

He didn’t though. There was a nagging in his head that told him not to do it, and so he put the gun back in the case and closed it, replacing it in the closet. He helped your step-sister, step-father, and your mother with funeral arrangements, but he hardly participated. Was he really supposed to give a shit what the flowers that surrounded your casket looked like? Fucking stupid.

Nothing felt the same after you were gone. Coffee didn’t smell the same, and food didn’t taste the same. He even had to start going to an actual hairdresser to get his hair trimmed because you weren’t there to do it for him. He was lost without you, in every way.

Months went by, and he’d hoped it would get easier, but it hadn’t. He still saw you in every aisle of the grocery store, picking out your favorite snacks. He still woke up in the night in a sleepy haze, reaching to wrap his arm around your torso, but he never found it. Miguel would sometimes still accidentally pour two cups of coffee on Sunday morning, forgetting that he’d be sitting alone on the patio.

“Dr. O’Hara!”

He jumped, looking up from his notepad to see his boss, Dr. Carleton Drake. The man looked down on him where he sat. He put a hand on Miguel’s broad shoulder.

“I know you’re still going through a tough time here, but we’re on the forefront of a scientific breakthrough and I need you to be present, alright?” He raised his dark eyebrows at Miguel. “I need that brain of yours on this project. I need you to get it together, big guy.”

The breakthrough in question was something right out of a science fiction movie. Miguel had always scoffed at Drake’s overly ambitious dream of traveling the multiverse, assuming the multiverse even existed. Truth be told, he’d thought it was all hogwash, but the idea that struck him that day gave him hope…hope that he might see you again.

It took three more months of sleepless nights, tireless tinkering and research for him to make something that worked. Drake was beyond impressed with the initial test, sending a rabbit from their universe to another and bringing it back with a camera attached to its collar.

“Someone dispose of the carcass,” Drake said, pulling the camera from the creature.

Miguel felt like he had a new purpose, a new reason for living. He needed to find a way to make the device work. It became his mission, because he knew once he figured it out, he would finally see you again.

It was a year and a half after you’d passed on the dot that the device was ready, as ready as it would ever be. He’d made it compact and sleek. It looked no different than a watch, and he could hide under a sleeve if needed. The most recent rabbit they’d sent out lived, but only as long as it didn’t come back. Every specimen sent out seemed to perish on the journey home.

Miguel understood that the device was flawed, and far from perfect. Having a watch that could take him to any universe imaginable, but couldn’t return him to his own, didn’t matter to him though. He didn’t want a world without you in it, and he had no intention of coming back once he left.

Miguel returned home, grabbing some essentials, not knowing where the watch might bring him, and he put the items in a small knapsack for the journey. There was a single photo, one of the two of you that he wanted to take as well, so he could always remember the original you, for what it was worth.

When he fired up the watch, he let it choose a destination at random. He didn’t know where he would end up, all he knew was that he would find you, no matter what universe you were in, and that he would make sure he never lost you again.

Thank you for reading! You can support your favorite writers by the simple act of reblogging and liking! Thank you again!

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction

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nomoreusername · 2 months

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The Fandom Versions of TMR Characters

The TMR fandom is amazing. It has a significant number of great people. It has some very talented editors and writers.

However, like every fandom with a good following, it has its issues. One of its worst ones is honestly one of the most obnoxious things one can have in my opinion.

It has awful mischaracterization. It's less of completely changing a character's personality and more of going off one trait and making that all that they are.

It feels like Thomas gets portrayed as an idiot who only asks questions or doesn't ever listen to anyone. He also gets called overrated even though he's the main character of the series.

We first get introduced to him when he's a Greenie with no memory (except for his name in the books). Of course he’s going to want to know what is happening to him. The Glader's start out revealing very little to not intimidate the Greenie's which has to be frustrating. While it is clear he wants to figure almost everything out throughout the series, that's a very human trait. He’s also definitely not stupid. WCKD/WICKED picked him to work with them because they saw something in him. He is incredibly intelligent and quick on his feet. A lot of the time, he’s given no notice to make a decision. He just has to make it. Whether it's running into the Maze to save Minho and Alby, having to decide whether or not to go through with Newt’s note, or going back to the place that started all the pain and torture, he wasn't truly given time to prepare for such important and life-changing decisions. Despite this, he always did his best to make them.

Newt probably has the worst fanbase. I love him as a character. He’s been through so much and is still doing his best to keep everyone in line and afloat which is extremely admirable.

The problem is that people water his character down. They’ll treat him as though he isn't a Second-in-command, the second longest surviving Glader, a suicide survivor, and resilient to the most dangerous situations.

Newt is not someone who would need protection. If anything, he was a protector. He would have to do things such as banish Gladers (his friends), to protect the other ones. He was a Runner before he got a limp. He stood up to Thomas in the movies when he thought he was just being paranoid, showing that even though he does love his friends, he isn't afraid to confront them if he thinks they are wrong. The way he still remains loyal to the people he loves when he does though, is another trait that deserves more acknowledgement. He went out of his way in the movies to hide that he was slowly dying in front of everyone’s eyes and losing his mind just for Minho. He never expected to make it but didn't care. In the books, he lied to his friends about being taken to protect them from himself. He’s so strong, self aware and beautifully written.

Minho is sarcastic and does have witty comebacks. However, he’s so much more than that.

He was the Keeper of the Runners. For around three years he was not only doing the most deadly job, but training others to do it as well. He wasn't allowed to have fear or be weak in the Maze. Not when the cost would have been his life. Something more complex about him is the way he covers up his actual emotions. During Chuck's death in the movies everyone else is allowing their tears to fall. However, he closed his eyes so he wouldn't cry. Whether it's because he doesn't want to cry in front of people or just doesn't want to cry is uncertain, but both are painful to think about. Another thing about him is very subtle character development. When he first gets caught in the Maze, not only does he give up at first, he at one point leaves Thomas and Alby behind, showing his intense desperation to live despite him wanting to stay realistic. In the last two movies we don't see any other instances of him being willing to accept defeat or leaving others behind. While he may have been given the tag ‘the leader' it isn't something that could ever or should ever be denied about him.

His bond with Newt is also something that honestly deserves more recognition. From the way he dropped to his knees in the movies to how Thomas didn't tell him how he really died due to how much the two cared for each other, they are nothing less than platonic soulmates.

Gally gets a lot of hate. He’s seen as angry and ‘that character who killed Chuck’. In a lot of ways though, I think he's one of the most logical, relatable, and realistic characters.

While some people think he just randomly hated Thomas and Teresa, that's not at all true. In the movies, he seems civilized with him when they first meet. While his action of shoving him before he could go into the Maze may have seemed performative, the fear was most likely needed for Thomas to grasp the gravity of the situation. He can also be seen shaking hands with Thomas in Greenie night after the fight. In the books, he went through the changing. He was stung so he got some of his memories back the way Alby did. He told Thomas that he recognized him from those which was why he was suspicious towards him. His concerns were valid. Everything did change after Thomas and Teresa, and a lot of Gladers ended up dead. At one point, they had both worked for WICKED/WCKD. Something was up with them, the exact way he said there was. If someone came to my home and changed everything I knew I wouldn't trust them either. He cared for the Gladers and wanted the people he lived with for years to stay safe and be alive. He didn't want to just kill Teresa and Thomas. He wanted things to go back to how they were in a sense. He was afraid of leaving his home. He was afraid of change, the way so many people are.

He didn't kill Chuck. He would never hurt Chuck. In the books, WICKED had both him and Chuck under their control. In the movies, he was stung, meaning his actions did not belong to him. Even then, he was not aiming for the sweet kid. He was aiming for Thomas, who in his mind at the time, was one of the ones who had started him and his friends years of pain and suffering.

Movie Aris is my favorite. He is very sweet but the way people will describe him as innocent is wrong.

I do consider him and book Aris two different characters. So for now, this is strictly about him in the movies.

He’s seen alone when we first meet him. His friends are gone, and people are talking about him like a circus animal so it makes sense why he wouldn't want to be around anyone. He’s generally quieter than a lot of the main characters so he can get mistaken for just a background character. However, he literally got everyone out of WCKD. He never got any recognition for saving them, but he still did. When he does open his side of the door for everyone to get out there is at least one unconscious, previously armed guard on the ground, with his weapon now being held in his hand. This shows that he is capable of taking care of himself despite his at first glance passive demeanor. He knows to break the control pad to buy everyone time and books it. What must be less than an hour later, he’s helping take down Cranks with a single bat, also showing quick thinking from the way he knows to trip them so they could focus on getting away. Not to mention, he’s doing all of this after finding out his friend (and possible lover) is going to die. On a lighter note, we see his face light up and how much he talks with Sonya and Harriet when they all meet again, showing that he's not afraid of speaking to others. He just has a few and specific group of people he feels comfortable actually talking with, which is literally just being an introvert.

All of those are why he is not innocent or in need of saving. He knows how to look after himself and others.

That's just the basics of The Maze Runner fandom's mischaracterization problem.

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cripplecharacters · 5 months

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Hello! I need advice for writing a character with oculocutaneous albinism who’s a platonic love interest without descriptions of her coming off as fetishising albinism. Her name is Glass and she’s blind and an investigative journalist and will be a reoccurring character in the series. The MC is gay and he describes her very affectionately in the narrative. When she’s introduced he fondly points out (to the reader) a lot of traits about her including things related to her albinism like “slightly wavy snow white hair in a fashionable bob and striking dark blue eyes that gently danced back and forth. One eye was pointing slightly inwards as she tilted her head and smirked at him.” I got the “dancing eyes” idea from a short film made by someone with albinism and nystagmus. I’m going to try and describe other traits about her more, especially about her personality to counter this.

I also have a question that might be too specific? I’m planning on giving her a little brother with ocular albinism, OA. If someone has a daughter with OCA are they more likely to have a son with OA or are the two kinds of albinism genetically unrelated? I wanted to include him to have more then one blind character in the story. Thanks for your time. :) -Anon Blue.

Hi! We don't currently have mods with Albinism, so I'll try my best. I recommend our #albinism representation tag for resources made by people with it! :-)

If you don't put most of the attention of how she looks to her hair or skin color, I think it should be fine. It's okay to mention it - I mean, that's just how she is, would be kinda weird to fully ignore it - but don't make other characters or the narrator gush over her paleness or eye color every time she comes up. Change it up and praise her fashion sense (like you did with her hairstyle!), the shape of her nose, how bushy her eyebrows are, or how her gums show when she's smiling instead! Her appearance shouldn't be reduced to just "girl with albinism" - give her other visual traits! :-) For other descriptors, I would avoid making her "angelic" or "ethereal" because of her disability. Remember to not make it mystic or magical; there's a whole "Magical Albino" trope out here that you should try to avoid.

You mentioning nystagmus and strabismus is great! Those are often forgotten or ignored in characters with albinism because they're not seen as "pretty". I've seen some people describe their nystagmus as "dancing eyes" before too, I think it's a very cool of conveying it!

In general, a good way to avoid fetishization is to include the "boring/mundane" things. When you show the medical parts of albinism like the esotropia, avoiding the sun, having her use a white cane or a guide animal, or using Braille, the representation will be more informed overall and not just an "aesthetic" - which a lot of characters with albinism unfortunately end up being. There's a big difference between a blind journalist guided by a German shepherd who happens to not have melanin and needs a Big Hat, and an evil sniper with bright red eyes and mysterious powers. I hope this makes sense!

In case that Glass is Black, I'd recommend looking at the #albinism tag at @writingwithcolor - it's always good to make sure your descriptions don't come off as unintentionally colorist if you go into her skin color. Things like describing her as more frail or delicate (when compared to other Black characters) would be in poor taste, so look out for that intersectionality if it applies!

The brother with ocular albinism part; those two types are completely unrelated, and it would be incredibly rare (not impossible) for that to happen as far as I know. For reference, almost all OCA (1-7) and OA (1-2) types are caused by completely different genes. The only exception could be OA1 and OA3; we don't currently know what causes the third one, and there's a theory that it's just a different presentation of the first. But I'm not aware of anything like that for oculocutaneous albinism, so if Glass has OCA1 (as I'm assuming from the description), her brother would have OCA1 as well (as opposed to OCA3 or any other subtype) if anything!

One interesting thing that you could do to have him have OA that I never see in fiction is to have him be adopted. I know multiple families who had a child with a certain disability and decided to adopt a second (or third, or fourth...) one with it! I think it could be very cool and would make sense with him being the younger one. Here is an interview/vlog from a real-life family with six adopted blind kids, if you want an example of that :-)

Wanting to include multiple blind characters is a great idea - if adoption doesn't work for your story, he could have the same type of albinism as Glass or have a non-genetic cause of blindness, like CVI, Retinopathy of Prematurity, glaucoma, or a whole lot of other things!

A story about a blind investigative journalist sounds awesome! Good luck with your writing!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anon Blue #albinism representation #writing descriptions #intersectionality #blindness #fetishization of disability

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parvulous-writings · 7 months

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Miasma // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Halsin's rescue of Thaniel goes drastically wrong. Gender Neutral reader (they/them pronouns where they had to be used)

Warnings: Angst, character death, no resolution/comfort. Depictions of grief, anger. Violence. Wonky pacing, maybe? Unresolved ending, also - sorry for the hurt in advance!

Words: 3.7K

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

"The magic is delicate." Halsin had warned - the words now rang in your mind like a knell. "I will need your help if I am to survive- the portal will sap my strength." You had vowed to aid him - to defend the portal that Silvanus had helped him to create. And you had tried. You'd thrown almost every spell that you knew into the shrouded, cursed dark that surrounded your party and the portal, done near everything you could think of to keep the danger at bay. But, somehow, it wasn't enough. Something had gotten through your defenses, though you could barely recall what exactly it was. An arrow? A crow, touched and warped by shadow? The more you dwelled upon the thought, the more your chest began to tighten. What did it matter, what it was that ruptured the portal and caused it's premature collapse? No matter the form of the assailant, it did nothing to change the chain of events that had since then transpired. A gentle voice breaks you from your spiralling thoughts; "At least he is with Lady Shar, if nothing else..." You feel your face contort into a scowl at Shadowheart's words - Halsin was not a worshipper of Shar, why would he be happy that he is with the lady of sorrow? If anything, you thought, it would enrage him that the one who's shadows had laid claim to him, was the one he would be 'with'. But you say nothing to Shadowheart, you know for a fact that the only things that would pass your lips would be words of venomous spite. Not that you didn't like Shadowheart - you were actually quite fond of her, she usually would say things how they were, without sugar-coating them. But in this instance, using the name of Lady Shar to try and bring you some false comfort only made you feel worse.

The trek back to camp was coated in a stony silence. The rest of the party were waiting for you to say something, some words of wisdom or hope, but you said nothing. You did not wish to speak. All you wanted to do was ignore the grief that had settled into your heart. To shove it down, and ignore it. But you couldn't. You and Halsin had become close after you and your rag-tag team of friends had saved the Emerald Grove from the goblins. He had given you advice on how to get to Moonrise Towers, and had offered his aid on the journey. Of course, you had said yes - initially because you knew you'd need all the help that you could get, but as time wore on, and you spent night after night talking with him, you couldn't deny the fact that it was starting to feel like something more was blooming between the pair of you - and Halsin refused to deny it either. Though nothing between you and the druid had been made official to the others, he had told you time and time again; 'When I have righted what has been wronged, and the Shadow curse lifted... Then, we can focus on one another, my heart.' You had thought about those words often - they had spurred you on when you had first entered the shadow cursed lands, knowing that this, this was the place where you could finally end Halsin's century of distress, and fretting.

And yet it had all gone wrong in an instant.

The silence had followed your group into camp, and settled itself amongst you all as if it were a friend, and not some unwanted and unwelcome state. Even Astarion had stopped his quipping and teasing upon seeing your dour expression. He had never seen you in such a state - not even when he had accidentally woken you when he had gone to feed on you one night, almost three months ago at this point. That night you had been mildly disgusted initially, but you were definitely willing to let him feed from you if it was going to help his prowess in battle. You had been optimistic, in truth, despite the dangers. That was something about you that was always apparent, and always had been. Though some of your travelling companions had thought you... Not all there, at first, you had managed to prove quite a few times that you were persistent enough to almost always pull through.

You had made a direct line for your tent, ignoring the attempts of Karlach to approach you, and hopefully comfort you a little bit. The fabric flaps drew together behind you as you retired to your one place of isolation. The tiefling was confused, and a mite hurt, at the fact that you had just completely blanked her. You had never done that before - the worst you had ever done was tell her to stay in camp for a while, and more often than not, you had good reason to do so. Her gaze fell upon Wyll and Shadowheart, two of the companions who had set off with you that morning, before she began to march over, determined to know who or what caused you to become so withdrawn. "What the hells happened out there?!" Karlach could hardly contain the irritation that bubbled in her chest, spilling into her voice. Wyll was the first to speak, his face a mask of self-reproach. "Halsin was trying to retrieve Thaniel - the spirit of these lands..." He began to explain, glancing briefly to Shadowheart, who's lips were fixed in a clear frown. "Right..." Karlach said slowly, "... I'm assuming something went wrong, by the look on everyone's faces..." "... We weren't able to defend the portal he had entered entirely... It collapsed, and... He's gone." Karlach's face fell as it all clicked into place in her mind. That's why you were acting so strange. "... Oh." Was all she could manage. She couldn't even muster up any rage at the circumstance, she was just stunned. She hadn't had a chance to get really close to Halsin, but he was a nice guy, there was no denying it. He had been courteous to all of them - a kind hearted soul, who always lent an ear to anyone who needed it. To Karlach, he had been a good laugh. Most evenings, on the short walk back to their tents, she and him would share a good few jokes with one another before retiring to rest. The loss of the druid would weigh heavily on her, though not as heavily as it would do you. Wyll cleared his throat, glancing towards your tent. "I think I may try and speak with them..." Shadowheart scoffed at this, causing Wyll's head to turn. "Good luck," Were the only words that the half-elf offered him, her voice dripping with sarcasm, before she turned away, marching herself right back to her tent to isolate herself for a while. Karlach followed suit, with nothing of meaning left to say. She meandered back to her own tent, seeking to settle herself down in the mountain of various pillows she had stored in there, to have a good cry.

Wyll did not return to his tent, however. Like he had said, he was going to try and talk with you. Try being the operative word. There had been a handful of times that you hadn't exactly been open to talking with anyone, and Wyll fully expected to be one of those times. He tried to peer through the tiny gap left between the flaps that marked the entrance to your tent, but to no avail. He cleared his throat quietly to announce his presence - but there was no answer from him. He carefully parted the fabric before him, crouching down a bit to get closer to you. Your tent was the smallest out of the whole group's, purely for the reason that, before the adventure began, you didn't have a lot to bring with you. Even now, with so much more to your name, you are more likely to leave some of your belongings with your fellow party members. "Go away." Your voice was low, not quite a threat, but close. "I don't want to talk to anyone, about anything. Leave me be." "You know," Wyll began to speak, completely ignoring your request, "I don't think Halsin would want you to spend any time moping after him..." You started to push yourself up into a seated position. Even in the dark, Wyll could imagine the look on your face; a deep set scowl, eyes narrowed and glaring daggers at the perpetrator who dared disturbed your 'peace'. In this case, of course, that was him. "You have no right to-" "Yes, I do." Wyll's voice was calm, despite your ire. "I'm your friend - one of your closest by your own admission, if I remember rightly..." He said as he crawled into the tent to join you - in the hopes of making you feel a little bit less alone. "I know you and Halsin were close..." Close wasn't exactly the word that the warlock had in mind, but he didn't want to rub salt in the wound. You had lost a man that you loved, and Wyll knew that grief wasn't an easy thing to deal with. "But, we did what we could - defended him and that portal as much as we were able to... He didn't ask for anything more..." "But he did - he asked us for his help to heal the-" "I know... But that was before we got overwhelmed by shadow-cursed harpers, and Gods know what else..." Wyll interrupted. "We did what we could, and he'd be happy with that... Even if we didn't manage to heal the curse..." His voice was tinged with a hint of sadness, despite trying to ease your pain. "He wouldn't want you to sit here, isolating yourself as punishment... But I understand you need time to mourn.. So, how about, tomorrow morning, you and I go for a walk around the outskirts of camp? We can talk all things Halsin.." You consider it for a moment, before nodding quietly. "Good.." Wyll smiled in response to your acceptance - there were times when you could be extraordinarily stubborn. He'd seen it himself at various points on your adventure together, and he was quite glad that he didn't have to be on the receiving end of it. "I'll bring your dinner to you, if you'd prefer not to join the rest of us..." You nod again, and Wyll begins to shuffle out of your tent, leaving you be for the evening.

You didn't join the others for food that evening - not that there was much to join. The group sat mostly in silence as they ate, all starting to feel the absence of their druidic friend. Lae'zel did try to make conversation, having found that her ideals didn't exactly align with Halsin's, she didn't get as close to him as some of the other had done in the same time. However, no one could find it in them to respond, besides Astarion, who snapped at her to stop talking for a moment. Even he was feeling down about the loss of Halsin - even if he had only grown 'fond' of the wood elf because he found him amusing. But the time night had fallen - or at least, what the group had all assumed to be night, as both night and day looked eerily the same under the shadowcurse - everyone had returned to their tents to rest.

The night - like so many before that you had all spent in the shadow-cursed lands - was cold, and very very quiet. The dead branches of various trees clashing against one another were the only sounds to be heard. No birdsong could be heard for miles. That was unless you counted the raspy sounds from the undead birds that sometimes came close to camp. They'd scurry away before they got too close, though. But there was something, off in the distance, that was slowly making it's way closer and closer to camp. Of course, no one was really aware of it until it was right on your doorstep. You had initially thought that the heavy footfall approaching your tent in the middle of your rest was Karlach - she'd often come over to you after a long, hard day. "Karlach," You spoke, your voice slightly muffled against the rough material of your makeshift pillow. "Now really isn't a good time.. Go back to your own tent." You expected to hear the footsteps retreating after this. Karlach was never one to try and encroach your personal space, especially after such a blunt request. However, this wasn't the case with this now unknown intruder. Something twigged in your mind that this might not be someone who meant well. Either that, or Karlach really wanted to have some company. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, and when your eyes finally managed to focus on the figure slowly starting to crawl it's way into your tent, you could have sworn you heart stopped.

Halsin.

Immediately you were alert - were you still dreaming? No, you couldn't be, it didn't feel... Fuzzy enough, to be a dream. But it never feels like a dream when you're in the middle of it. You hurriedly push yourself into a more upright position, trying to kick the raggedy blankets off of your legs for more freedom of movement. "Halsin-" Your voice caught in your throat, leaving it as little more than a mousey squeak. Your chest felt tight, heavy. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of hope - he was alive! But as your eyes began to focus on the massive form of your once lover, you began to notice that some things were amiss. There were clusters and clumps of some dark mass, something not quite natural. Some of the clumps glowed and flickered with an eerie and dim bluish light, casting a foreboding shadow over your beloved's stoic - and entirely too-still - features. You recognised those growths - the telltale calling card of the shadows when they had wrenched their claws so deep into a living thing that nothing but a husk remained. You had seen it earlier that day; the hundreds of undead harpers, githyanki, dogs and birds that had assaulted you, your party, and the portal that had undone everything for you. The last stage before the host of the growths was devoured, and became nothing more than a shadow doomed to roam the desolated town, caught entirely in their own pain and grief. Though, the thought of that final form was pushed to the very back of your mind just at the moment it had popped in. Surely, though, if Halsin had managed to find your camp, there must be something of him left in there? As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you've moved to rest on your knees, bringing your face closer to his. "Halsin, you're alright..." There's something screaming at you in the back of your mind, telling you that this isn't right, that something is dreadfully, dreadfully wrong, but you elect to ignore it. For once, you just wanted to try and focus on the positive side. "You..." You couldn't quite place what it was about Halsin's voice that felt off to you - was it too deep? Too scratchy? Who cares, he's here, he's home. You didn't have to bear with that godsawful weight in your chest anymore, you could just move on, and think of this whole affair as nothing more than a blip on your adventure. You open your mouth to speak, but Halsin beats you to it. "Failed." His voice was so low it almost sounded like the chords in his throat were rupturing as the words left his lips - or perhaps they already had. It hits you like a stone to the head, and you freeze in place, paralysed by the realisation you should have had much earlier. This was not a dream, and Halsin was in front of you, but, he had been corrupted. Whatever drive he had to get back to you - whether it had originally been love, lust or something else - had now been twisted into something sick, something that longed to make you suffer as it was.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, a thick hand was wrapping around your throat - squeezing, constricting, cutting off your air and your ability to cry out for help. Your hands dart to his wrist to try and alleviate some of the pressure, but you know that there's almost no point. With Halsin's great size, came great strength - you wouldn't be able to easily escape from this, he had the upper hand. You try anyway, clawing at his hand and forearm like a wild animal, trying to break skin and hurt him enough to have him flinch away from you. But that moment never comes. In fact, you could swear that he's applying more pressure to your throat. "Don't. Struggle." The grating voice of Halsin growls at you. You try to tell yourself that it's not him, but of course... the face looming above you would convince yourself otherwise. With the corners of your vision starting to blur and fade, you grow desperate. You begin to thrash and kick at him - and you manage to land a few good blows to the undead elf's ribs and stomach, not that it made much difference to the beast of a druid. You think at one point one of your feet dislodges a pole keeping your tent upright. At least, that seems to be the reasonable explanation for the structure collapsing on the both of you, obscuring your view even more. Your kicks start to weaken as Halsin applies even more pressure to your windpipe, obviously intent on robbing you entirely of your ability to breathe. You stop moving - in part to try and conserve what little oxygen you have left, but also because... What's the point in struggling against Halsin? Not only was he much stronger than you, but he was also... Right. You had failed him, despite the fact that you had tried your damndest to complete the task he had set you. Though it broke your hear to admit it to yourself, there was little you could do to deny it, even with the discussion you had had with Wyll earlier that night.

You had just about given in to the inevitable fate set before you, when the weight pressing down on your neck was just... Gone. You immediately sat up, spluttering as air finally reached your lungs, making you feel light-headed, but promising your survival. "Get the fuck away from them!" Karlach's roar was unmistakable as your scurried to pull the fabric of your tent off of your head to see what was going on; Karlach, greatsword in hand, was moving to swing at the corrupted Halsin - whilst Lae'zel, a determined look on her face, was mere moments away from doing the same, marching over from her own tent to join the fray. Gale was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, quickly," He ushered you over to his tent as he spoke. "Inside, Shadowheart will check you over in a moment," His gaze turned back to Karlach, Lae'zel and Halsin for a moment, watching as the Tiefling and Githyanki lay blow after blow into the flesh of the thing that had tried to kill you. They were only just able to keep him on his knees, and it looked like his skin was shredding where he had been hit. His only sounds acknowledging that he was being attacked were grunts of effort as he tried to through off their hits and get back to his feet - which did not work. He wasn't even bleeding; a greenish-blue liquid dripped languidly from his newly-formed wounds.

"Stop looking, you don't need to see this." Gale told you firmly, taking your shoulder and guiding you more forcibly into the tent. "That's not him, anymore... You know that, yes?" He tries to soothe you. "That wasn't Halsin - just an... Echo of him, if that." Despite his kind words, tears begin to streak down your cheeks. You feel Gale's arms wrap around you, and your legs give out for a moment. You can't do this. It's too much. How is one person meant to handle all of this - the mindflayer tadpoles, the fate and wellbeing of their companions, helping as many people as they can on the way through the environs they must travel - and still walk tall? It is too much of a weight, a burden you can no longer carry. This overwhelming grief is just the straw that breaks the Rothe's back. You don't remember much of what happens after that - besides the sobs that start to wrack your body, making you heave with each breath. Gale lowers you to the floor, and you can vaguely hear him saying something to you, though you can't quite make out the words. You don't try to figure out what they are, though. You just want this to stop - for the emotions that feel too big for your body to just cease, and leave you in peace.

Your companions come and go throughout the night, each taking a turn to sit with you, to try and soothe your sorrows. Nothing really works. After many hours - though it feels like days to you - the tears finally stop falling. You're exhausted, and can't bring yourself to move off of Gale's bedroll; and no one dares to try anyway. It's Wyll who's with you as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep. He doesn't move to tell the others, though, in case you should wake and need his company. A frown is etched into his features as he watches you - he knows all too well how much this grief can tear someone apart from the inside. He makes sure that you've got a blanket over your shoulders to keep you warm. "Don't you worry... You'll still have us," He whispers, not even caring if you can't hear him. "No matter what, we'll stick by you... And we'll get you through this. For Halsin's sake, not just for yours..."

The druid would have wanted that much for his lover, at least.

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kocherry · 2 years

Text

Blume-ing Relationship

Cyno x GN!Reader

Cyno is really becoming my favorite character so far in the Windblume Festival so I wrote this ♡ Also this is Gender-Neutral Reader insert :>

Tags: Fluff, First Meeting, Pre-Established Relationship, Mutual Crush on First Meet, Horrible Puns

< 1.5k words >

The Windblume Festival is a season of giving gifts to your loved ones. May it be platonical, familial, or romantic anyone could receive gifts. You always have something to give for platonical and familial gifts. As for romantic... well you don't really hope to receive or give anyone this year.

Despite that you always held that tradition in giving to your Alchemy colleagues that you consider as your friends now. Speaking of them... Sucrose and Albedo are the ones you haven't given their gifts.

Luckily you spot them both but they camping outside the walls of Mondstadt near Cider Lake. They were all in a circle surrounding a campfire with a lot of travelers. It was bad timing anyway, you could see how they were all interacting like they knew each other for a long time.

As much as you wanted to give your presents, the festival won't end today. So you turn your back and as you were about to head to the city, you step on a branch snapping it in half.

"I noticed you were spying on us, who are you?"

The sudden appearance of a tan skin and medium length grey hair gentleman surprised you. His red-orange eyes pierce through your own as if he's looking at you like some sort of predator ready to pounce on his prey. He wore almost nothing but his jackal ears hood. He is on guard to every movement especially to the small boxes on your hands.

"Wait Cyno, that person is our friend." Sucrose panicked since Cyno's whole demeanor changed.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here? Did you need something?" Albedo asked as he is surprised to have seen you this late in the city.

You didn't face Sucrose and Albedo because you were too busy admiring the features of the man in front of you. He stood a little taller and he is lean. His red orange eyes went from being stern to soft as he realizes his mistake.

"Forgive me I shouldn't have assumed that you were an enemy spying on us." Cyno scratch the back of his hood as he apologizes for his brash actions.

"I-It's okay! Really... I would have done the same and uhm are you from the Akademiya?" You ask because the silver haired man is oddly familiar especially in TCG, many from sumeru used a card of his image. So you wonder if he is the General Mahamatra that they would talk about.

"No. I am Cyno the Adventurer."

Cyno's deadpan tone made you snort, you could tell that he didn't want to be addressed by his official work title.

"Ignore him, he's just on vacation mode. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit (Y/N)?" A gentlemen dressed in dark reen clothes with fox ears greeted you as his eyes narrowing at his companion in annoyance.

"Oh I came to give this to Albedo and Sucrose, I was about to leave when they seem busy but Cyno suddenly appeared." You held out two boxes for the two alchemist who recited their gratitude towards you.

Tighnari, the fox eared man, elbowed Cyno to at least be courteous and invite you to eat.

"Again, I apologize for..." Cyno handed you out a small bowl of what they were eating. "...Soup-rising you like that."

A collective groan could be heard from that pun. Although it made you laugh, which surprises Cyno himself and his companions.

"I don't mind because you're a DandeCyno."

You gave him a thumbs up replying him with a pun that you also thought about. Then Cyno seems to be surprised at the joke you just made. Maybe he didn't get it... "You know like a Dandelion plus Cyno's name. Him suddenly appearing like a wind in front of me!" You explained to make sure everyone got the idea of your pun.

Cyno places a hand over his mouth and lets out a hearty chuckle. There is a small dark blush on his cheeks as he turns to you with a smile. "I'm quite glad to have met someone who shares my sense of humor." He extends his hand and you happily shake it.

"To think someone actually laughed at my flower puns, I think our friendship will definitely blume during the festival." He lets out another pun in his deadpan tone which made it funnier to hear.

"I cecilia hope it would." You reply with a pun as well while winking at him.

"Oh no there's two of them..." Tighnari groans as he puts a hand on his temple.

The others well... they just look like they want to be swallowed by the ground. Only Albedo seems amused and crossed his arms raising an eyebrow towards the two of you.

"Are you going home after giving us these?" Albedo asks while holding out his gift. "Perhaps Cyno could accompany you back since it is quite dangerous to go out at night even if it's festive season." In all honesty the Chief Alchemist is amused by all of these and he wants to see where this would go.

Cyno just nodded at Albedo's suggestion, not even hesitating to oppose. Mainly because he seems to have a feeling that you two would get along. "I don't mind escorting you home (Y/N), besides I think I owe you this much for scaring you earlier." His hood covered the top half of his face as he remembers how intensely intimidating he is earlier.

You met the General Mahamatra and not the Adventurer Cyno. So he does want you to see him in a different way.

"Sure! Plus I want to get to know you more Cyno, you seem really fun to be around." In all honesty, you could handle yourself especially with a vision hanging on your belt.

But you don't mind walking in the night with a handsome fella who shares your love for humor.

Tighnari folded his arms and lets out an amused sigh, "I can't believe you set them up Albedo now we both have to endure their bad puns."

Albedo lets out a soft chuckle, "I think they're pretty funny." Most of them disagreed.

So back to the two of you who were walking towards Springvale.

Cyno notices a familiar box in your bagpack. His eyes brighten up at this and his lips quirk up a smile. "Do you play TCG?" He asks while pointing at your card deck that was seen through a small opening of your bag.

"I definitely do! My colleagues often play it during our free time. Do you want to play sometime?" You ask excitedly but then got embarassed since you don't want to ruin his plans especially when he's from Sumeru. "If you're... up to it I don't really want to intrude your vacation in Mondstadt."

"Aside from accompanying my friends here, the other reason is to commission the talented Calx to design my cardback." Cyno does share the excitement of playing TCG with you. "Having to play TCG with a newly found friend is surely enjoyable this season."

You sigh in relief upon hearing that, it looks like the feeling is mutual. "I can hardly wait for our duel Adventurer Cyno." You elbow him at the side gently then notice that you were already in Springvale. "Oh this is my house, thanks for the walk back."

"You're welcome, as much as I wanted to make a pun... I'll just give this."

In his hand there is an unfamiliar flower, not native from Mondstadt. You saw in books once, a Kalpata Lotus, being placed onto your head. Cyno smiles at you softly and takes a step back, "I figured you might like this particular flower back from my home." He definitely will have to say sorry to Tighnari later for stealing this flower.

When he puts the flower in your hair, his face is incredibly close to yours. You remain quite on the outside while your inner voice is already losing its shit. Despite being flustered, you have to give Cyno a gift back.

After all, equivalent of exchange is a rule in alchemy.

"Wait I think it's unfair that I didn't give you anything." You grabbed his hand before he could take a step back.

"You don't really have to—"

You take a step forward tiptoeing to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow Cyno." You smile brightly and the blush on your cheeks spread throughout your face.

Cyno stare at you dumbfoundedly as you shut the door close. He place a hand on the spot where you kissed him. The beating of his heart began to thump louder as the smile you gave him is imbued into his mind.

A smile crept up his lips as he turns around wondering how to not make a fool of himself tomorrow.

On the other side of the closed door, you were sitting on the floor placing a hand over your chest. You couldn't believe you already kissed Cyno on the cheek when you just met him. Then again... he seems to he smiling when you did that.

The Windblume Festival is a season of giving gifts to your loved ones. May it be platonical, familial, or romantic anyone could receive gifts. You always have something to give for platonical and familial gifts. As for romantic... you hope Cyno would be the one to happily accept it someday.

#cyno #cyno x reader #cyno x gn reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #anyways i just love cyno so much i want to eat him up #love at first puns lmaoooo

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madschiavelique · 1 year

Note

so sorry if ur busy w requests and no rush at all but.. i am experiencing a drought of miguel and trans masc reader smut.., maybe something w doggy style and being so overstimulated that he has to hold you up in a chokehold 🫣 no pressure and your service is greatly appreciated

okidoki so I have never written about a trans character/reader before, and I really REALLY hope I did a proper thing here. (I tried my best and made a bit of research on how to write this because i would feel so bad if i ever offended anybody in the trans community, so please if there’s anything in this that you feel is offensive or misrepresenting, PLEASE tell me so that i can correct the mistake(s) in question)

summary : miguel fucking transmasc!reader to overstimulation

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, transmasc!reader x miguel, pnv sex, no use of Y/N, mentions of oral sex (reader receiving) here are the words i will be using for certain parts of the reader’s body (i considered that perhaps reader had had top surgery but not bottom surgery and takes T - testosterone) : for the top : chest, pects | for his bottom : clit, front hole word count : 587

tag list : @fandom-ash

status of my requests according to the date of this post : CLOSED (asks are open though)

Miguel knew that it hadn't always been easy for you to appreciate your body, and he didn't care what it looked like, because no matter what it looked like, he'd worship it, especially during sex.

You felt like one of those cis teenagers between junior high and high school who was horny all the time, and Miguel was more than happy to satisfy all your little needs. He'd been pleasuring you with your desires for almost two hours now, while overstimulating you with his, and you were getting increasingly sensitive.

Your elbows were pressed against the sheets, your hips raised as Miguel was pounding into your front hole. Your back was arched and his dick was hitting you in the spot that made your whole body tingle with pleasure.

"Look at you," he grunted as he lowered his torso to your back and brought his lips to your ear, the approach eliciting a long, pleading moan as he pressed even deeper into you. "I have such a beautiful boyfriend."

It was as if your whole body was tingling uncontrollably with every thrust of Miguel's inside you, as if your skin was a kind of cloud in which little flashes of lightning were all fighting together to crack first.

He rubbed your clit softly, he had noticed how it had swollen since you started taking T. The sounds your changing voice made were pure heaven. He was so eager for it to get bigger and to be able to give you proper blow-jobs, to be able to wrap his whole tongue around it while your hand was tangled in his hair.

Oh and how he loved kissing your chest, his fingers softly tracing your pects as he licked and kissed your skin. The way he felt your heart beating under your skin when he kissed you there made his cock twitch.

The changes in your body made your voice deeper, and he loved the sounds you made. His name, pronounced by your lips, changed colour in his mind, and all he wanted to do was make you repeat it over and over again to hear you speak.

But you had noticed in particular how much more powerful your orgasms had become, the sensations seeming to increase tenfold. In fact, you could already feel the next one coming, the heat filling your body and covering it in a layer of warmth.

"Miguel," you breathed with difficulty, "I'm gonna..." but you couldn't finish your sentence, all the sensations hitting you altogether making it impossible for you to think straight.

"Yes, say my name baby," he said, kissing your shoulders and back, giving you this contrasting caress of all the feelings that were mixing inside you.

"Miguel," you murmured breathlessly.

His thrusts grew even faster and more intense.

"Miguel..." you moaned as the knot in your stomach tightened.

The friction Miguel was applying to your clit accelerated as Miguel put his hand on your neck.

"Scream my name, querido," Miguel growled close to your ear as he pressed lightly on the sides of your neck.

The knot tightened, and in an instant, everything that was happening and stirring inside your body went white.

"Miguel!"

The orgasm came, and you felt as if you were being electrified, your voice going off the rails as your whole body vibrated. Miguel kissed your cheek as he slowed his pace inside you, caressing your neck gently as you shuddered, the sensations so powerful that you were overcome with emotion.

"You did so good, mi sol."

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marvel-ous-m · 1 year

Text

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water

written for “pool” wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: implied Steve Harrington has bad parents, mentions of canon character death | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort

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It’s uncharacteristically warm for a September night in Hawkins.

Where there would usually be the kind of weather that makes someone feel cold from the inside out, there’s nothing but slightly humid air.

“The last day of summer.” Eddie had supplied earlier that day, a throwaway comment as he packed up his D&D supplies from Steve’s table.

The last day of summer used to be a big deal in the Harrington house. “The last day before it gets too cold to use the pool.” Steve’s mother chimed, insisting Steve go out and make good use of the investment they had made on the property.

Steve, for his part, always thought it was kind of stupid. The pool was heated, it was fine year round. But his mother insisted, so he would always go out and swim a couple laps for her benefit.

The last time Steve could bear to look at the pool was early in November of ‘83, before his life changed forever.

Before Barb-

Steve can’t quite tell if it’s nostalgia or a sick sort of guilt that causes him to peel back the cover of his pool and sit at the ledge, staring down at the clear blue water.

How could three years ago feel like a completely different life?

“Steve?” He startles when a hand lands on his shoulder, but calms almost immediately when he feels the familiar outline of rings.

Eddie.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was calling your name for a while. I came back because I realized I forgot my notebook in the kitchen and then I saw you and-“

There’s a lot left unsaid, but it doesn’t need to be spoken. After everything over Spring Break, being unresponsive would be enough to send anyone into a state of anxiety.

“I haven’t swam since Barb.”

Eddie hums and drops down to sit next to Steve. He takes Steve’s hand from where it was resting on the paved poolside and cradles it in his hands, fingers exploring the dips and crevices in Steve’s palm. Eddie had been told everything, eventually. He knew- about Will, about Barb, about every single thing Steve could recall about the last three years in the dead of night, when he couldn’t sleep and called the only person who he knew would be awake.

“Do you want to? Swim, that is.”

Steve shakes his head almost immediately. That’s the last thing he wants.

“Then let’s just sit, okay?” Eddie’s response calms something in Steve that he couldn’t even tell was panicked.

With Eddie next to him, playing with his hands and keeping him company, the pool is just a pool, and Steve just sits.

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A.N.: I really enjoyed writing this! I had instant inspiration and decided to jump on it before getting to my actual work today, lol. As always thanks for reading, and please go give @steddiemicrofic a follow! I love this idea and hope to take part in future prompts.

#steddiemicroficjuly #steddie #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie Drabble #hurt/comfort #established steddie

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breannasfluff · 1 year

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Quick question, how do you write so much? I fight the words for an hour and have maybe 2 paragraphs of garbage but you pump out really nice work almost every day??? I have so many ideas but I can’t write them for love nor money

I write almost every day, or I take a break and switch it out for drawing. I generally can write a chapter in one go, so usually stock up some backlog to cover days I’m busy. Having multiple stories now means I don’t have that backlog of some, so updates are a bit slower.

As for writing tips:

1. Remove distractions. Shut discord, exit out of tumblr, mute your phone. When you are stuck, don’t go scroll social media. When writing, the only thing I touch the internet for is if I need to check a story item, like a character name, item history, etc. I cannot overstate how important this is. If you are talking to your friends, you won’t have a writing flow.

2. Do not edit as you write. Writing and editing are two different tasks. You switch between creative and critical thinking and it breaks flow. This is a scientific process and you can read more about it here.

Research electroencephalogram (EEG) suggests both heightened electrical brain wave activity and elevated dopamine levels during flow. In other words, your brain experiences both electrical and chemical changes when you’re “in the zone.”

But once you switch to self-editing mode, you move to the critical thinking side of your brain. You halt all of freewriting’s creative electrical impulses and pleasure-sensing dopamine levels. Your mind flips off one switch and turns on another.

3. Set a time, then be done. Give yourself 20 minutes and write as much as you can. Doesn’t matter if it’s garbage. You can edit garbage into something useful or you can chuck it in a bin. Just try to write, then take a break. Staring at a blank document for two hours isn’t going to make words appear and it just stressed out your brain.

4. Have an outline. Sometimes a magical idea just flows when you sit down to write, but generally not. Have an outline of what you want to have happen in your story or chapter. It doesn’t need to be in depth; for most of my oneshots I literally have a sentence or two at the top of the page. The story needs to have a goal. For example: Wild tries to teach Hyrule cooking. It doesn’t go well. Bouncing ideas off friends can be a big help! It’s why you’ve probably seen me post about prompts and suggestions, and sometimes stories are gifted to people. Talking through plot ideas can help you get a better outline or idea of action.

Misc notes:

Hate to say, but some of it is just practice. I’ve been actively writing for a little over a year with some breaks on and off. Making it a habit is a big thing for making it easy. It’s harder to restart after a break.

When I first started writing I tried to pick one aspect to improve for each story. Filter words, pacing, varying sentence starters, story arcs, etc. Fixing multiple things at once was too much work, but one item at a time was doable.

Filter words make such a huge difference in writing; I encourage you to look them up. It’s a PAIN to remove them in post, but it also taught me to cut them out. Now it’s unconscious and while some still show up, I tend to write them out automatically.

You can learn to write quickly, but if you don’t also work on quality you’ll just…write a lot. That said, it’s fanfic. Sometimes it’s just for fun and quality doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty of stories that will never be posted because they are just for fun.

Some of it could be writing speed, too? I use a bot a lot of times for timing and tracking and generally average 30-35 words/min. Harder story topics are slower to write, like angst and emotional scenes.

I’m actually writing less this year than last, but I don’t put as much time into it. It also keeps it sustainable as a hobby, although I definitely hit periods of frustration. It can get overwhelming.

If you search my blog for the tag #writing advice or #writing tips, you should fine some other things as well.

This was rather frank, but hopefully helpful! Feel free to drop further questions and I’ll do my best to answer 💜

#asks #writing advice #writing tips #writing #creative writing #fanfic writing

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burst-of-iridescent · 1 year

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at the moment, 5.7k people are following the kataang tag, not 2.9k, as you said, why would you lie? in addition, even on Tumblr (which remained almost the last popular zk place among all fan platforms), Zukka is ahead of Zutara in popularity, and a lot of talented and popular creators of fan art and fan fiction are now concentrated in the Zukka and Maiko fandom. It is fundamentally a mistake to focus on the popularity of the ship, because shipping should be for personal pleasure, but this only shows that most people are ATLA fans (namely fans, not casual viewers) they actively love ATLA and did not see zutara in the canon. In addition, can you give evidence of your words that «almost all of the main cast and most of the writers» love zutara? From the cast, only Dante actively confessed his love for zutara, but he also spoke about his love for zukka, Mae Whitman not against Zutara and joked about it, but she also said in podcast that she also loves kataang, the rest of the actors did not speak at all about their preferences in shipping (except Grey DeLisle who prefers zucest).

none of the screenwriters has ever confessed his love for Zutara, on the contrary, Ehasz has said several times that he loves Maiko, he also wrote almost all the most significant maiko and kataang episodes. The only one of the 13 main writers of ATLA who spoke about sympathy for Zutara is John O'Bryan. Zutara never featured in any of the original scripts, and in ATLA's "bible," the only love triangle that was originally planned was Aang-Katara-Toph (who was a boy in the original script). In a recent interview, Ehaz also answered the question of how he feels about zutara vs kataang, that he, as a professional screenwriter, "follows his characters" and their final canonical choice of love interest is the choice of the character himself, not the writers.

i wrote 2.9k the first time around by mistake. the original post has since been amended to reflect the actual numbers of the kat.aang tag, though frankly the disparity between the two tags is still so large that i don’t even think it matters. anyway, my bad. thanks for letting me know.

many cast members and former writers on the official atla podcast, braving the elements, have talked about shipping zutara — including, but not limited to, dante basco, jack de sena, michaela murphy, joshua hamilton, and john o’bryan. grey delisle, mae whitman & greg baldwin have also spoken about being zutara shippers. i’m not sure why them liking or showing support for other ships somehow means they don’t ship zutara, because people don’t need to ship only a single couple to prove they’re “real” shippers lmao. i like azutara, sukitara, ty luko & even book 1 kat.aang myself; that doesn’t make me any less of a zutara shipper.

i’m also not sure why you expect me to do the work of providing evidence for you when, given the fact that you’re here, i’m certain you have just as much access to google as i do. this information is freely available online. feel free to fact check me.

and let me say this again, in case it was not clear enough: i truly do not care about zutara’s popularity. even if none of the cast and writers shipped it, even if the tag only had 10 people, even if every single wonderfully talented writer & artist & AMV editor & GIF maker in this fandom left, i would still ship it. because it’s a better story, because it is more thematically and narratively cohesive, and because it makes me happy.

and if you disagree with that, that’s fine by me. but somehow trying to “prove” to me that zutara is unpopular and no one likes it is not only a) factually false it’s also b) not going to do a damn thing to change my mind lmao. the opinions of other people have never been a reason for me to ship zutara, and they never will be.

#zutara

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fairystar111 · 7 months

Text

Dead Man's Wish

By: fairystar111

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Summary:

Life isn't fair to most of us, that's something almost every villain with tell you. So somebody decided to make it fair, and now it is. Except not for everybody.

Characters: Tomura Shigaraki, Izuku Midoriya.

CW/Tags: Kidnapping, Platonic Yandere, Yandere Shigaraki Tomura, Big brother Tomura Shigaraki, Kidnapped Izuku Midoriya, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Infantilism, Stockholm Syndrome.

Start/Previous/Next

My dearest Tomura, if you are reading this then I have already passed on and for that I am sorry. I won’t be able to help you on your path any longer my dear boy but I trust in your abilities to succeed me and do what I could not. You will change the world like I always knew you could. My dear child I have not been completely honest with you and I am sorry you had to find out this way. But I have another child, his name is Izuku Midoriya. He is your brother in all but blood. I had originally planned for you two to meet in his first year of high school but circumstances changed.

I had a younger brother myself once that I loved very much. I gave him everything the world could offer but that was not enough for my dear Yoichi. My younger brother opposed my work as All for One, he hated what I did and what I stood for and tried to stop me until he perished in an untimely accident. Shortly before he passed I had given him a weak stockpiling quirk to help his sickly body gain back some strength, the quirk had melded with an invisible quirk I did not know he possessed at the time. Yoichi had the ability to pass on quirks which was quite useless on its own but once I gave him a quirk it became a new quirk known as One for All. A stockpiling quirk that is able to be passed onto others through DNA transfer and would become the key to my own demise. The wielders of One for All are all successors to my brother that want to end me and my “reign of terror” whatever that means. I know you're probably wondering but what does this have to do with Izuku Midoriya being my brother?

Well the year before you were set to meet, through unfortunate circumstances Izuku met All Might ,the eighth successor, and became the ninth wielder of One for All. Your paths would intertwine but you would be on opposite sides of the battlefield. The tale of two brothers will repeat itself once again and I won't be able to help you. Tomura all I ask of you is that you try to help him, my child has horrible self-sacrificing tendencies and will die on his own. I need you to take care of him as I have failed to do and love him as I have loved you because one day all you will have will be each other. I want you to love each other as much as I loved both of you.

With love,

Hisashi Shigaraki

“Don't worry dad I'll find him and I'll save him even if he doesn't want me to.”

Izuku awoke in an unfamiliar but rather comfortable bed. He rubbed his eyes trying to rid the morning grogginess when he remembered with a jolt that the league had infiltrated their base and captured him along with several of his friends. He jumped out of bed only to crash onto the floor. He groaned in pain and looked up to see a chain connecting to a thick padded cuff around his ankle.

He studied the room around him and found it odd, he had been expecting to wake up in a concrete prison cell or maybe a laboratory. The room he found himself in was draped in soft pastels reminiscent of a baby's nursery, games and toys lined the shelves, the floor was covered in soft fluffy carpet, there was a mass of plushies on the bed. Wait, were those toddler rails on the bed? Why was he wearing bunny pajamas? He had been captured in his tattered hero outfit. Did someone shower and change him in his sleep?!

What is going on? Izuku thought, trying not to panic. He yelped when the door opened to reveal a frantic Tomura Shigaraki.

“Izuku are you okay I heard a loud crash? Oh bunny, did you roll off the bed?” Tomura asked, feeling rather frazzled as he picked Izuku up off the floor and placed him back onto the bed. God he hasn’t even been here for a full day and he was already hurting himself even when unconscious. Dad was right, his little brother does need to be protected at all times. Hmm maybe he should install padded flooring or maybe full railing around the bed?

Izuku was too shocked to say anything in response. This monster was checking looking him over for injuries like a concerned mother looking over her young child. This murderer, his enemy, was treating him like he was something fragile and precious.

“Don’t touch me!” Izuku yelled, wrenching his arm out of Tomura’s grip. How dare this villain try to treat him this way! Soft gentle touches by hands who have murdered thousands. What did he do to deserve this?

“Calm down little brother, I know you're scared but you're safe now. Everything is okay because I am here.” Shigaraki said with a small smile petting the boy's soft curly hair. Though he hates having to use All Might's catchphrase, it is a necessary evil. Right now what his little brother associates safety and protection with most is All Might. He needs to switch that over to himself. Izuku needs to feel most safe and protected with Tomura.

Izuku could feel his blood start to boil. How dare this monster use his mentor’s words against him in such a mocking way. And what did he mean by brother? Izuku didn't waste any time thinking about that before he launched himself at the villain trying his best to attack while still chained to the bed. He tried to reach for his quirk but felt nothing but empty space in its place. Well he didn't need quirk to gouge someone's eyes out. Before he could try Izuku was slammed back into the bed and his arms were pinned above his head.

“Izu bunny, calm down everythings alright.” Tomura cooed, trying his best to be soothing. He’s never had much experience comforting other people but he’ll try his best for his little brother.

“Let me go! Let me go!” The boy shouted as he thrashed in the villains grip.

“Izuku you need to stop–Ow!” Tomura’s scolding was interrupted by a strong kick to his side.

“Stop!” Midoriya screamed as the villain got onto the bed raising his knee to pin his legs down, effectively immobilizing him.

“Are you ready to calm down little brother?” Tomura was a little irritated but tried to not let it show on his face, judging by the look on his Izuku’s face it wasn’t working. He had to keep his cool. Sensei did say it would be difficult in the beginning; he just had to be patient and everything will turn out okay.

“Shut up! You are not my brother, I hardly even know you. You're nothing but a monster who's been fighting me and my friends since the beginning of the year.” Damn his little brother really knew how to hit him where it hurts. None of what he said was technically wrong, but back then he didn't know they were brothers, Dad hadn't told him yet. They really were enemies before but things are different now, they are family, Izu will learn to accept that eventually.

“I see you are still not ready to be reasonable. I tried to be cordial. I wanted us to get off on the right foot but you made me do this. I will return when you are ready to listen to reason. And little brother the next time I come back you better be on your best behavior or you won’t like what will happen to your little friends.” Tomura replied with an ominous expression, closing the door to his little brother's room.

Despite how much it hurt him to leave his little brother so soon. He just wasn't ready to listen yet. Some time apart will help him adjust. After all, his only family left is Tomura. Izuku will eventually learn to be dependent on him and only him for all his needs and safety. Just like Sensei said he had done for his brother in the past.

===

Izuku was ready to tear his hair out. It had been weeks since he has had any human interaction and the isolation was starting to get to him. He can’t even take out his frustrations on the room because as soon as he tries to destroy something he is sedated, if he tries to hurt himself he is sedated, if he tries to take off the collar he is sedated, if he goes too long without sleep he is sedated. His meals are delivered while he is asleep and if he tries to ignore them he will receive a note threatening him with a feeding tube.

He can’t take it anymore, he lost everyone, his mom, his dad All Might , his school, his quirk. He can’t even find comfort in the vestiges of One for All because he can’t get the collar off. Izuku could feel his eyes starting to well up with tears as it started to set in that he lost his entire world within the span of six months. All might is gone, heroes are over, he will never be able to become a hero and make All Might proud. He lost . With that last thought Izuku broke into heart wrenching sobs, thick globs of tears clouding his vision and running down his ruddy cheeks. The poor boy was so lost in grief that he didn’t notice the door opening.

Izuku whimpered as he felt himself being pulled into someone's lap, warm arms wrapping tightly around him. Something felt off but couldn't help leaning into them. He was so tired, he just wanted his mom. He wanted to go back to his school with all his friends and teachers. He wanted his family but they don't exist anymore. Izuku’s wails started up again with a fresh set of tears rolling down his face. Shigaraki gently shushed Izuku, rocking him back and forth, gently running his hands up and down his back soothingly, until the boy fell asleep.

Tomura really wasn’t supposed to be down here, he had promised himself that he would be a strict guardian for Izuku. Izu’s punishment for his bad behavior was spending one month in isolation. Two weeks for trying to fight Tomura and the other two to help him reflect on the past few months and come to terms with his new reality. But he couldn’t help himself. He saw his little brother breaking down on the baby monitor and he had to go comfort him. It had been three weeks anyway so close enough right?

Plus Izu didn't even reject him this time in fact he even leaned into his hug and was comforted by his presence, now that's progress. Tomura just had to wait for Izu to wake up and they can have their heart to heart and he can learn why they are brothers and the story behind their father. Then they can finally be happy together!

===

When Izuku began to stir, he realized he was sleeping on something warm and squishy. He sleepily rubbed his face into it and felt it gently move up and down as he heard a scratchy chuckle. He sat up startled to see Shigaraki only to be pulled back down into a hug. Had he been cuddling with Tomura Shigaraki this entire time?! He tried to wiggle out the tight embrace only to be shushed by the man.

“Settle down little brother, you remembered what I said last time don’t you?” Tomara asked. Izuku just nodded into his stomach not trusting his mouth to not say something that would count as ‘bad behavior’. He didn't want any of his friends getting hurt because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

“Good boy. Now I have a very important story to tell and you will not interrupt me until I am finished or else either you or your friends will be punished. Yes it has to do with how we are brothers and who our father is.” Tomura added knowing that was probably the biggest question running through his baby brother's head.

“But-”

“Ah ah ah no interrupting or else your friends won't get to eat for a week.” Tomura threatened seeing the augmentative look that appeared on his little brother's face when he mentioned their father. Izuku promptly shut his mouth.

“The story begins at the dawn of quirks with two brothers, Hisashi and Yoichi Shigaraki. The older brother was born with immense power and charm while the younger was born sickly and seemingly quirkless. Their mother had died during childbirth leaving the boys to a childhood of danger and homelessness. Since both boys had white hair and unique eye colors the brothers were often persecuted by anti-metahuman extremists. Because of this the older brother began to delve into a life of villainy to keep the younger brother safe and off the streets. He began to amass loyal followers and influence while his younger brother remained safe and oblivious in their home. Yes I know you have questions but save them until the end.” Shigaraki grinned at his brother's pouty expression.

“Until one day while Hisashi was off on a business trip, Yoichi decided to snoop around his older brother's office. Up until that point Hisashi had been very vague when describing his work to his little brother and that had only fueled Yoichi’s curiosity. He was horrified when he discovered what his brother was actually doing to pay for their new home. So when Hisashi came back home he was immediately confronted with an arm full of angry baby brother. Hiashi tried to reason with Yoichi, telling him he could ignore everything he saw and they could live normally again. He could even join him if he really wanted to but Yoichi rejected every offer Hisashi gave him. He had gotten the idea in his head that it was his job to take down Hisashi and his empire of ‘evil’. You see, Yoichi had always loved comic book heroes and heroic morals ever since he was a child. And when the idea for metahumans becoming government sanctioned ‘heroes’ became a reality he wanted to be a part of it though he had no quirk. Dad did always call uncle Yoichi an optimistic naive little idiot, kinda like you.” Tomura chuckled at his brother's offended face.

“Anyways Yoichi gave Hisashi an ultimatum. Either he stopped his villainy all together and turned himself in or Yoichi would have to stop him himself but either way Yoichi was leaving. So Hisashi did the only reasonable thing he could think of to protect his little brother, he locked him away in a vault. Which sounds bad when you say it out loud but Dad was only trying to protect Yoichi from his own stupidity. And you know what they say: If you want your family to stay, lock them away!” Tomura cleared his throat awkwardly at the deadpan look Izuku was giving him.

“No?…Hm maybe that was only a thing Dad would say… Anyways after a while in the vault Yoichi started to refuse his meals as an act of rebellion. His already sickly body was getting weaker and weaker everyday. So dad decided to give him a quirk. It was just supposed to be a weak stockpiling quirk to help give Uncle Yoichi’s body some strength but it unfortunately became One for All. Soon after while Hisashi had been away on a business trip, two vigilantes: who would later become the second and third user of One for All, broke into Dad’s mansion and broke into Yoichi’s room vault , kidnapping him from his only family. Yoichi’s naive little self then decided he wanted to become a vigilante too with the new power his brother had given him. So he was a dumb little vigilante on the run from his caring older brother for a while. During this time he also discovered that he had a quirk: the ability to pass on quirks, which was useless by itself but once melded with the stockpiling quirk became quite powerful. I don’t even want to know how he figured out he could pass it down through dna.” Tomura said with a grimace. But Sensei did always say to watch out for boys with spiky hair because they'll steal your family and your quirk. Hm, maybe the second user had spiky hair?

“Soon after he passed on the quirk Hisashi had found them, he was going to kill the vigilantes for daring to steal his most prized possession. Hisashi aimed a powerful blast at the Second but Yoichi using his last embers One for All leaped in front of him before the Second could be hit. The Second and Third escaped while Yoichi died in Dad’s arms. After Yoichi’s death Dad soon realized that the Second was wielding Yoichi’s quirk alongside his own and figured out that Yoichi wasn't quirkless after all. He went on a rampage trying to find all the users and killing them one after the other. But by the time he would catch one they would have already passed on the quirk to their chosen successor…You have to understand Izuku. Everything Dad has ever done has been to make a better world for his family, for us.”

“By the time the Seventh successor came around the world was everything Dad never wanted it to be. Her name was Nana Shimura and she was my grandmother. She left my father in an orphanage so she could continue playing the hero. She abandoned her child so she could go off and raise some new successor. Her child grew up to be a child-beating bastard. This is why heroes are bad Izuku. All they care about is themselves. They don't give a damn about the people they hurt because of their actions, no one else matters to them.” Tomura growled out with tears starting to form in his eyes.

“When I was four my quirk: Decay, came in and I killed my entire family. It really was an accident. I never meant to harm anyone. I was just a baby back then. I wandered the streets looking for help but not a single person would answer my plea. Do you know why? Because why would a civilian help a child in need when a hero can come along and do it for them. There is no reason for them to be good people when there are heroes around to do that. Day after day people wouldn't even spare a glance at me even the heroes patrolling wanted nothing to do with a dirty villainous looking child. Not until Sensei, he found me and took care of me as if I were his own child. That day I became his son. He didn't care that I was the Seventh’s grandson; he still loved me and raised me until the day he died.” Tomura said in a thick voice choked with tears.

Izuku looked away, uncomfortable seeing so much emotion on the villain's face.

“Izuku look at me.” Tomura cried, gently cupping Izuku's face and turning it to face him.

“I know you don't believe me right now and this is all very confusing. But I need you to understand that our Dad loved you. He loved us, more than anything in the world. And if it was possible to stay with us forever he would have. He died to help make the world a better place for us.” Tomura’s voice trembled as tears fell down his face.

“How about we take a little break. Stay here and big brother will be right back in a minute.” Tomura said quietly as he rushed out of the room. He didn’t mean to burst into tears in front of his little brother but Izuku needed to know these things even if they hurt him to tell.

He took the elevator down to the communal kitchen to grab a snack for Izuku ,since their panty is pretty empty right now, only to run into Dabi and Toga.

“Hey Tomu, wait… have you been crying?” Dabi asked gruffly, concerned for their other man's well being.

“Shut up, I'm fine.” Tomara replied, covering his face with his hands.

“Aww it's okay Shiggy, you don’t have to be embarrassed to cry in front of us.” Toga cooed, reaching out to hug the blue haired man.

“It’s just getting Izuku to understand why he is here and why the collapse of hero society is for the best has been really hard. I just want him to understand that all of this is for his own good.” Tomara replied, rubbing the residual tears from his eyes.

“Shiggy, it's going to be okay. We all knew the first months were going to be the hardest. I can't even tell you how many times Ochako has made me and Dad cry.”

“Can’t relate Shouto has been a total sweetheart since day one.” Dabi said smugly.

“No but seriously it's going to be alright. The little one will eventually come around when he realizes that know one is coming for him and he doesn't have the power to stop us. And If he doesn't, well we’ll be here to help you knock some sense into the little guy's head.” Dabi added.

“Yeah! And when they are finally settled in we can bring them out to the garden for a playdate.” Toga said happily.

“Thank you,” Tomura said quietly, rummaging through the drawers for snacks.

“Shut up, we're family, we help each other.” Dabi murmured averting his eyes, the healthy skin on his cheeks flushing pink.

Tomura left the room with his snacks and a small smile on his face, filled with a rush of determination from the impromptu pep talk. Tomura walked into Izuku’s room to see him sitting right where he left him. Huh he didn't expect him to actually listen to him when he told him to stay put. “Hm, maybe I'm making more progress than I believed,” Tomura thought. He shut the door and sat down on the bed beside Izuku and handed him his snacks.

“Here you must be hungry, eat this for now and we can eat breakfast once we're done with our conversation. Now where did I leave off? Oh right a few years after Sensei found me you were born. We were never told of each other because we were both being raised to lead completely different lives. I was being raised to be our fathers successor, the man to bring hero society onto its knees and you…You were never supposed to be a hero or villain, you were just meant to be Izuku, not Deku, not the next symbol of peace, just Izuku, my little brother. You were never meant to be risking your life for people who would never appreciate you. But we’ll talk about that some other time I'm getting off topic.”

“Dad helped raise you until you were nine when he had to leave on a business trip. It was never supposed to be permanent. He was going to kill All Might, take back One for All and fix Japan himself. But the damn eighth almost killed him in their initial fight, All Might ripped his head off and spattered his brain on the concrete. He almost didn't make it but Garaki managed to save him. With injuries so severe there was no way he could ever come back home to you but I promise he never wanted to leave you. After that he only ever communicated to you through phone calls and sending funds for you and your mother.”

“Originally we were supposed to meet in your first year of high school though you were supposed to go to a normal run of the mill high school not UA. Sensei was so happy that you were finally coming back home to your family, but something changed. You met All Might and became the ninth user of OFA and enrolled in UA. You never came home. After that Dad had to scrap those plans and make new ones. The next time he planned for us to meet as brothers was once the heroes had fallen and he was dead, I am fulfilling dads plan. We can finally become brothers like he wanted us to be. Alright, you can ask your questions now.” Tomura said with a small smile.

“You’re lying there is no way All for One is my father! My dad’s last name was Midoriya and he was the kindest, most loving father in the world. There is no way that villain could ever be him.” Izuku argued, offended at the very notion that the symbol of evil could ever be his father.

“I was thinking you were going to say. Look at this picture of me and Sensei. Do you recognize the man in the photo?”

Izuku felt the blood drain from his face, there in the photo was his shy awkward father smiling with a child shigaraki.

“No you’re lying, that's fake!” Izuku argues, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

“Izuku, I can show you thousands of pictures and videos of me and dad together. You know this is real.” Tomura barked. He hated to make his little brother cry but he needed to rip off the bandaid. Izuku cannot go any longer denying their bond. Izuku is his little brother, he belongs to Tomura and only Tomura and he needs to get it through his thick skull.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Izuku shouted, bursting into tears. His Dad couldn't have been a monster.

“I know this has been a lot for you to take in, I'll have Kurogiri bring you breakfast and you can spend the rest of the day reflecting on what you learned. Maybe think about how you can be a good little brother as well.”

And with that said Tomura left leaving Izuku in a catatonic state. His Dad was a two-hundred year old villain? And Tomura Shigaraki is his adopted older brother! What is he supposed to do with that information? Also what was wrong with that story? It felt very biased towards AFO and made Yoichi’s ideals seem like child play. Did Tomura seriously believe that junk? Izuku spent the day wondering what exactly being Shigaraki’s brother would entail until he fell into a restless sleep.

===

The next morning Izuku awoke to the door being slammed open to reveal a smiling Shigaraki.

“Good morning little brother! I don’t have any work to attend to today so we’ll be spending the day together. But first we need to go over the rules you’ll need to learn if you're going to live here.” Shigaraki explained happily, excited to finally spend time with his little brother. He sat on the bed and pulled Izuku onto his lap.

“What? Hey stop! What are you doing?” Izuku yelled trying to squirm out Tomura’s hold.

“Settle down little brother.” Shigraki warned as he popped Izuku on the thigh.

“...” Izuku stilled, face flushing; he was so shocked to be reprimanded like a toddler he couldn't even come up with a response.

“Good boy. Don’t worry there won’t be too many complicated rules to remember just pretty basic stuff all little brothers do.” Tomura said, patting Izuku on the head. Izuku just sat there, shocked still.

“Firstly you will always address me as Tomura-nii, Tenko-nii, nii-chan, Tomu-nii, or big brother. You can choose whichever you like most but you always need to say one of them when you address me, understand.” Tomara said sternly this was a sign of respect Izuku needed to do and was not something he was willing to compromise on.

“Yes.” Izuku grumbled, an annoyed pout forming on his face.

“Yes, what?” Tomura growled.

“Yes, big brother.” Izuku spit out, cheeks flushing light pink.

“Good job bunny.

Rule number two: always obey big brother he knows what is best for you. That one is pretty self explanatory I think.

Rule number three: no fighting, cursing, or lashing out at your big brother. Little brothers are supposed to be calm, docile, and sweet. You can't be a proper little brother if you're acting out like a heathen.

Rule number four: If something is wrong you come to me immediately and I will help you. If I Am not available you can go to any of the other adults in the house but you cannot ignore your problems. If I find out something is wrong with you and you ignored instead of asking for help, you will be punished.

Rule number five: No escaping or leaving the premises without my permission, breaking this rule will result in a severe punishment.

Rule number six: You cannot shy away from my touch. If I want a hug you cannot refuse.

Rule number seven: You will never try to use that quirk. It is too powerful for you and you were never supposed to have it anyway.” Tomura said sternly. These rules were here to keep his baby brother safe and protected.

“Okay I think that is all the rules for now, let's move on to punishments. Punishments can range from timeout, toys being taken away, writing lines, spanking, a night in the vault, solitary confinement, withholding food from your friends, erasing your quirk permanently, torturing your friends, killing your friends.” Tomura said, looking up to see his baby brother's face flooding with tears.

“Don't worry those last three are only for big things like if you escaped and did not return within 24 hours or if you tried to use your quirk against us. But you would never do that right Izuku? You’re a good boy aren't you? You would never put your friends' lives in danger like that would you? Tomura asked gently, wiping away Izuku's tears. Izuku whined, shaking his head no.

“Good, now onto the rewards. These will depend on how long you can keep up with the rules, a week would equal an All Might toy or something you like or a few weeks would be a walk around the manor. If you make it through a month without breaking a single rule you can have a playdate with one of your little friends. But only the ones in our care and it depends on their progress as well. From what I hear the baby Todoroki is doing the best out of all of you. You can have a playdate with him if you can behave for a month. You're still settling in so these are pretty basic but once you are done. You can earn a phone, a new quirk, a pet, trips outside wherever you'd like, even supervised trips with your friends.” Tomara explained grimacing when he saw Izuku's eyes glitter when he mentioned going outside. He’s likely thinking of escape but he would snuff out those ideas soon enough.

“That's all for now. That shouldn't be too hard to remember, right Izu?”

“Yes Tomu-nii,” Izuku chirped. Oh he was so going to bust out of this place. He just needed to be on his best behavior and earn that visit playdate with Shouto. Then they can make a plan to get the others out of here. Though he is kind of worried about what's been happening to Shouto. What kind of progress is Shigaraki talking about?

“That was so cute,” Tomura grinned, squishing Izuku's cheeks.

“Now do you know how to play video games?”

===

This is how they spent most of their days. Tomura would wake him up and hang out with him. Punish him if he did anything wrong or give him a reward. He was treated like a weird mix of a pet and a toddler. His plan to earn the visit with Shoto was not doing great, everytime he would get close to the two week mark he would accidentally break a rule like calling Tomu-nii, Shigaraki. And the count would restart, honestly his brother was expecting too much out of him.

Speaking of Tomura, he was surprisingly affectionate, showering Izuku with hugs, cuddles, kisses, and pets constantly throughout the day. Izuku would hate it if he wasn't so touch starved though he supposed Tomura did isolate him on purpose. He actually wasn't too bad if Izuku ignored the creepy possessiveness, at least he seemed to genuinely love Izuku and wouldn't hurt him. Well unless Izuku was breaking a rule then all bets were off.

One time while leaving in a sleepy state Tomura had forgotten to lock his door, Izuku did what any reasonable person would do, he ran like hell trying to escape and was immediately sedated. When he woke up Tomura had taken him over his lap and spanked him. He couldn't sit properly for days afterward! Izuku hasn't done anything bad enough to receive the worst punishments but he's trying to break out of here before those can happen.

After nearly three months he finally did it. He made it through a whole month of good behavior. He can finally start his plan to get out of here. Though a small part of him will miss Tomura just a little bit. Somewhere along the way he actually started to like Tomura and his awkward presence, he really was like a big brother to him. But that didn't matter, he was still his enemy, Izuku still needed to get out of here and take him down. There's still a whole society that needs fixing out there and he'll be the one to do it. He’ll make All Might proud.

“Nii-chan I did it. I was a good boy for a whole month. Can I see Shouto now?” Izuku giggled, jumping up and down looking up at Tomura with his best puppy eyes. Damn he was really playing up the little brother thing wasn't he. Whatever he can be embarrassed later when he successfully escapes but for now this is a necessary evil.

“Yeah yeah I'll ask Dabi how Shouto’s been behaving and if he's been good we can set something up for you guys tomorrow” Tomura said, picking Izuku and spinning him around.

“Yay! Thank you Tomu-nii!” Izuku giggled.

Don't worry guys I’m coming to get you out. I'll save you no matter what.

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