#also and by recent I mean like pieces from two or three years ago instead of pieces from five years ago

[wavesmp3]

I’m sorry if this feels weird to say or anything but… I really love your mind 😭 when I first discovered your fics I would get upset by the open endings because it was something that I wasn’t used to in the slightest. I’m too attached to having full closure by the end of a story, but after I read more of your writing I really became enthralled by it. Your style feels like I’m transported completely to a sort of dream realm. I’m not sure if it’s your wording or the way the story plays out but your fics really feel like dreams more than anything to me. If I could describe it then I would say it feels almost like “All About Lily Chou-Chou” or “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in it’s atmosphere, what I imagine the stories look like when playing out and that sort of filter/cinematography. Hopefully that makes sense and I mean this comparison in the best way as I love both movies! eurydice was the first fic I read from you and it was such a different experience from what I usually am used to and it challenged me to think further into the implications and symbolism throughout the story. I guess your writing brought me out of my comfort zone and then I got hooked on your writing! I think the way you write is so unique and special and I’m so glad that I came across it and I really hope that you get more attention for it! So yeah, I just wanted to make sure that you knew how absolutely beautiful and captivating your writing is and how thankful I am that you’re sharing your talent with us. Keep doing what you do, you’re amazing!

hi, omg. thank you for this ask! definitely not a weird thing to say at all :) I’m glad to hear that my writing was able to push into a new kind of style I guess, that means the world to me! and i am so honored you think so highly of my writing. i haven’t seen all about Lilly Chou-Chou but I have seen (and love) eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. it’s one of my favorite movies and one that has (as you’ve picked out here lol) really inspired the way I like to tell stories. the comparison feels undeserved but thank you nonetheless. and what you said about my pieces feeling like dream….mwah. that’s kind of the goal I’m going for with my more recent and shorter pieces. im so happy it came across like that for you too.

again, just thank you for this ask! it’s always a pleasure to hear what someone thinks of my pieces. and I’m so glad you found my fics and that my fics found you :)

[wroteclassicaly]

Walk Until You Belong

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader, Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: Amongst confusing and mixed up words, you think you realize where you really stand, with those who matter the most to you, particularly Eddie Munson.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader, teases Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, anxiety, panic attack, extreme self-esteem issues, HEAVY on the angst, no happy ending (this one hurts, folks), Eddie is mean with his words, depression, & extremely (be warned) sad thoughts.

A/N: This thought randomly came to me in the car today, then proceeded to poke and prod at me until I wrote it down/out. This is what came of it, and it’s a product of mind mindset, as of lately. Please read the warnings and air with caution, because it’s meant to work out my own feelings, and as of now, there’s no second part planned and there isn’t a happy ending here. I leave it open-ended. Just know, this piece is really vulnerable to me, and I’m not gonna and say I didn’t cry a little while writing this, so I feel like it’s a personal breakthrough, and I wanna share it with you all ❤️♥️

Sidenote: Using the nickname of Princess in this fic, instead of Y/N. Also, Eddie isn’t nice in this. He’s not exactly awfully, openly mean, but his words are pretty cruel. So… be warned! Nancy makes an appearance as well!

You didn’t really peg Eddie Munson for a mean person. Intimidating, sure, tough because he needed to be - yeah. But outright cold and as nasty as his former bullies? You stand frozen, back against the cool wall of the hospital corridor. They’re still talking, bonding, two completely different people that never knew one another three months ago, yet they’re making it work. You’ve known the entirety of the party since this whole underworld shit began, roped in by being Dustin’s neighbor and giving him rides home from Hellfire for his mom.

No one ever called you outside of the world ending, outside of you taking a kid some place, bringing your random gifts, lending an ear on the phone when the trauma got too much. You weren’t invited to their gatherings, you weren’t in on their inside jokes, but you figured if you made yourself more approachable, more social. And seeing how they welcomed Eddie, someone you had admired since your freshman year - you were sure it was gonna work, that you were slowly being accepted. You helped defeat monsters and evil men, dark creatures, and underworlds. It was you who helped Steve Harrington drag Eddie’s bleeding and mauled body back into your world.

Since that night three months ago, you have done everything to help him. Brought his school work so he could graduate, promised to hand deliver his diploma if he wasn’t strong enough by mid June to walk across that stage, even saying you’d flip Higgins the double bird for him. You tried to help him plan campaigns, you bought him several tapes, and most recently - you’d taken up a magazine subscription of his favorite metal scene, just so he would have all copies. He was always so boisterous, making you melt and smile, and you wanted to help put some light back into his eyes after he’d lost a lot of that sparkle. The issue you got in the mail today, it looked promising, making you eager to take it to him on your lunch break from the video store.

Recently able to fight off your anxieties and getting into the workplace to cover shifts for Steve as he healed, you had extra money to spare and a pep in your step. But when you had reached Eddie’s room door in the hospital, Steve’s voice had halted you. You’d pressed your back aside and out of view, a smile on your lips as they mentioned you. They were gonna be your friends, maybe Eddie would even show you what certain things meant in the magazine, what he liked about their scene, his scene. You wanted to know so much about him, but could never muster the courage to ask.

“I thought the Princess was coming by today?” Your nickname. Not one in malice, but one gifted by your peers for your love of literature. It extended to everyone, apparently.

Your heart leapt, pulse in your throat, eyes casting down at the glossy cover in excitement. And then Eddie had sighed deeply, as if he was in pain. You were prepared to go and get a nurse, when he speaks out, “Seriously, dude?”

Your brows had knit in confusion, a gnawing starting in your stomach, a coolness chilling in your muscles, scraping apart your veins and brimming them full of ice. Steve confirmed, causing you to step back further out of sight. You should’ve left immediately, because you knew you were not going to be able to handle what Eddie’s reply would be, what you fooled yourself into thinking wouldn’t happen.

“What if I pretend to be asleep? Think she’ll leave and go bother someone else?”

A sharp ache pries apart your ribcage and fills it with hot ash, wafting smoke from the destruction suffocating your throat. The first wave of tears prickles your sclera, clouding your vision as your head bows.

“Munson…” Steve sighs.

“Listen, Harrington, I know I’m a freak, man, but she’s just weird. She doesn’t even know me and she subscribed to a magazine I have, just to bring me the issues. She tries to get involved in my campaigns. I know she drives Henderson around and that she’s fought all that nasty shit with you guys, but like… She’s not even in your ensemble of friends, is she?”

Your entire lifetime of actions involving them all flash in the forefront of your mind, and everything you went through by their sides.Have you done anything so out of the ordinary that none of them haven’t? You’re not loud, not like Eddie is, you’re not extremely quirky. You were sure you weren’t bothering anyone when you started being more vocal. Salt. You taste its first humiliating tang hit your lips, your tears free flowing.

“Not really.” Is what Steve responds with, prying back your subconscious with a crowbar and letting reality crack your skull open to let your insecurities flood you until you begin to feel the beginning stages of dissociating panic.

More than two years and you’re still considered a nobody to people you fought beside and nearly died for. People you convinced yourself that they just needed to know you, to see, and they would care about you just as much as you care about them. You realize, however, with a sickening irony, that Vecna must have been fooled by your sated mindset, thinking you weren’t alone and that you were happy, or he would’ve targeted you instead of someone else. And that part, the deep part that’s engraved into your DNA, rooted to every cell and particle, it bites back thoughts you try not to pin on yourself. Maybe he should’ve.

“Hey, Princess, what’s going on?” Her sweet perfume and her soft demeanor make your body feel like it’s weighted down, caught and unable to escape. You don’t look at her yet, turning your head to attempt (pathetically) to wipe your tears and clear your vision.

Steve and Eddie hear and the conversation is halted, their smiles happy and comfortable. But even as you bypass Nancy’s concerned looks, her question at your obviously panicked expression, forcing yourself to walk into the room with her to save face — you aren’t buying either boy’s look. It’s not you they’re happy to see. You shift, a discomfort squeezing your sternum and extending into your guts, anxiety using your esophagus as a trampoline and tempting your food to expel. You feel as if you’re not even here, that this isn’t real, that it’s a nightmare bigger than anything you’ve ever faced.

Dealing with demons and evil creatures that only existed in storybooks is one thing, but doing it alone, knowing that that’s all you’ve ever truly been… it’s worse than when you automatically followed Nancy into that rift to save Steve. No one called you after Vecna, sans one simple call from Steve to ask if you needed anything. But that was it. Your brain snaps back, still able to get you as you’re not all here. King Steve hated you, and not even this kind version cares for you.

You’ve kept the magazine at your side so far, and you let it fold in your tight grip, crushing and crumbling the pages, voice becoming weak and breathless as Steve asks why you’re here, a grin on his face, knowing already. Fuck this. You’re drowning and you need to get the fuck out of here.

“I have to go. I’m… I gotta go, I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, shatters your facade, and you don’t look at anyone.

Nancy leans out as you move quicker down the hallway, faster than anticipated. She watches your arm elongate and toss something into one of the janitorial cart’s trash cans.

“What the hell was that about?” Steve is confused, Eddie bewildered.

“I was gonna ask you guys. She looked upset before we even came in here,” Nancy responds.

“Didn’t you two walk in together? Maybe somebody bothered her, or she saw something?” Steve questions once more.

“We all agreed to give her space, just like we always do. So no, I didn’t want to crowd her. She was already here anyway, just standing outside the door and looking… I don’t know, lost? I’ve never seen the expression that was on her face before.”

Eddie feels as if something else entirely has re-stripped his recently healed skin. Steve swallows harshly and fixes Eddie with an immediate glare, both sharing realization and regret.

“She just trashed some magazine, maybe it was because of that —“

“Shit. Fuck, man.” Eddie finally speaks, starting to lift his upper body, his underused limbs protesting, stitched skin screaming.

“Stop, I’ll go, okay?” Steve interjects, resting bitch face activated and his jaw clenching, upset he let himself say what he did, and is already out the door, leaving Eddie to explain to the ever inquisitive Nancy Wheeler and her journalistic heart and soul.

By the time Steve catches up to you, jogging and slightly out of breath, he isn’t prepared to share his ex’s sentiment on your tormented expression. You look… demolished, haunted. Steve has felt it, a fragment of what bullshit you must be feeling, given what you’ve just heard. He’s done a lot of things, but he’s never felt more like an asshole than he does now, staring at your trembling hands that drop your car keys twice, your eyes so full of tears he wonders how you were even able to see to get out of the building and into the parking lot. He has the sudden overwhelming urge to wrap you into his arms and hold you. So he lets his instincts go and attempts to reach out.

You sound strangely reserved, settled. You smile sadly, wiping at your eyes, the skin raw and overheated. “No. I understand, okay. I got it. I really do. I’m fine.”

“Princess, you don’t have to —“

A beeping sounds off between the two of you, your fingers reaching into your belt loop and unclipping the beeper after a quick glance. You still don’t look at Steve. He can feel his own irises becoming shrouded with tears, his chest being clawed apart and dug into. It hurt more than any hive mind bats or Russian torture. You sidestep away from him, mumbling. “It’s Keith. I have to go.”

“It’s my shift, Princess,” Steve grasps your wrist in his big palm and squeezes, trying to pull you back to him, to convey, to express. He cares. He didn’t mean it in the way that you thought, “Please?”

You jerk yourself away from him. You look angry now, and wipe your nose at the same time Steve does - water finding his lash line.

“I took the shift. It’s fine. Goodnight.”

You’re falling apart as you turn around again, not permitting yourself to watch Steve and his attempts to amuse your anguish with pity - standing in the parking lot, wiping at his nose continuously, in your rear view.

Steve grits his teeth as the tears drip onto his cheeks, his hands running up into and through his hair. They beyond fucked up…

// Eat me paragraph //

[arminreindl]

Baru iylwenpeny: The Last Baru

Happy to announce that there's just been a major new publication for mekosuchines. The Alcoota Baru, which I briefly touched upon in my post on the genus, has finally been named. The new name, Baru iylwenpeny (pronounced eel-OON-bin-yah), derives from the Eastern Anmatyerr dialect (part of the Arrernte language) and means "good at hunting". A name that seems quite fitting when you look at the skull.

As a reminder, this animal stems from the Alcoota Fossil Site in Australia and dates to the Late Miocene, making it the youngest of the three recognized Baru species.

Previously this species was already referred to as being "the most robust Baru" and they weren't kidding. This thing looks more like something out of the Cretaceous than an animal that lived a mere 8 million years ago.

The morphology is interesting in many ways. Many of the ridges that are so prominent in Baru wickeni and less developed in Baru darrowi are absent. The seventh and eight tooth are so close they theres basically no space. Instead of four teeth like other Baru it has five in each premaxilla and the nasals reach the nares, like in Baru wickeni but unlike in Baru darrowi. The teeth also show the same small serrations as Baru darrowi and, unlike either of the other species, the jaws appear much less wavy not because they are but because the first festoon of the maxilla is followed up by a second one so developed it makes the first look almost flat. It's a fascinating mosaic of characters that makes its relation to the other species a puzzling question. You'd think that the ridges for instance point at it being derived? After all wouldn't it make sense? Baru wickeni had the most developed rigdes, Baru darrowi smaller ones and Baru iylwenpeny none. Plus, the teeth of Baru wickeni are smooth unlike those of later forms. Yet at the same time.... The fact that it has five teeth instead of four and the fact that the nasals reach the nares are both ancestral traits, so you'd expect it to be closer to the base.

Left: Baru wickeni Right: Baru darrowi

Well, while I think this isn't going to be the final place of this species among Baru, the most recent phylogenetic analysis suggests that Baru iylwenpeny was weirdly enough the basalmost species. Which means that it must have split from the other two species at the latest during the Late Oligocene and outlived the both of them without us ever knowing.

The paper also discusses how these animals may have gone extinct. If you look back at Kalthifrons, you might remember how I mentioned that mekosuchines kinda had a drop in diversity when transitioning from the Miocene to Pliocene. While the new paper avoids calling this a drop in diversity, it does highlight that there certainly was a turnover in fauna. The reason is an old enemy of mekosuchines. Climate. Yates and colleagues suggest that Australia was hit by an especially nasty dry period at the end of the Miocene, severe enough to drive Baru to its death but not severe enough to whipe out all mekosuchines. And after Baru was gone, Kalthifrons and Paludirex moved into the open niche.

There's also a final little piece of information that's not focused on yet really fascinating. Baru iylwenpeny had a friend. At least one other croc lived at the Alcoota site during the Late Miocene and tho it hasn't been studied in full yet, one thing is apparently known. It was a relative to the Bullock Creek taxon that coexisted with Baru darrowi and a relative to "Baru" huberi, the small croc that coexisted with Baru wickeni. This grouping has yet to be given a name, but its fascinating to me that each Baru species seemingly coexisted with a much smaller mekosuchine. Alas, like Baru this lineage seems to have fallen victim to climate change.

Baru wickeni and "Baru" huberi, in truth an unnamed genus.

The paper is accessible here for those that wan't to dive deeper into the matter. I'll also be working on an updated size chart, this time featuring all three species of Baru, tho I can already tell you that despite being more robust its surprisingly not that much larger.

The last Baru (Crocodylia, Mekosuchinae): a new species of ‘cleaver‐headed crocodile’ from central Australia and the turnover of crocodylians during the Late Miocene in Australia (wiley.com)

[clearancecreedwatersurvival]

Maybe for 2024 I will make it a goal to just actually read or watch all the really good media that I’ve been putting off starting/finishing. I often like to save some of the really good stuff for some indelible later, but actually maybe later is this year. So, some stuff I’m finally gonna get through this year must include:

-finally finishing harrow and nona instead of waiting forever for alecto to come out so I can just binge all of the rest in a row as was my initial hope after finishing Gideon and skimming through chunks of Harrow. What am I waiting for. When I finish it once I can still just read all three again before Alecto comes out. Plus I’m gonna get way more of the layers to these books now that I have read so many metas written by people who have already read the extant series like a dozen times.

-Revolutionary Girl Utena. I’ve watched many other classic shoujo, but not this one??? Somehow??????

-Leverage. Self explanatory.

-The Expanse. Another series I have only heard good things about, especially from @battlestarbones

-Naomi Novik has several books I haven’t read yet that I absolutely should starting with Spinning Silver.

-I should try to get into Earthsea again. I tried quite a long time ago and I think I would get way more out of it this time.

-half of Wheel of Time tumblr is obsessed with Realm of the Elderlings, and so many people have recommended it to me, so I guess I gotta do that too.

actually there are many pieces of media that have been recommended to me over the years that I have to add to this list. Most importantly, I owe my beloved friend @platanosandprejudice a life debt at this point because I have yet to make good on my years old promise to them to play Undertale in exchange for listening to my conspiracy theory presentation about One Direction in undergrad (don’t ask you don’t want to know trust me) so:

-Undertale

-I recently got a recommendation from @mean-lesbians for a Very intriguing sapphic webcomic based on Edgar Allen Poe’s works called Nevermore, and the art and pitch were Very good so it’s gotta go on the list.

-Maybe MAYBE I will read one or two of Priest’s webnovels. Perhaps. I could be persuaded. Like I know she Will give me some characters that I will love and then she Will make them suffer horribly and probably die, but to be fair, that’s true about Most media I enjoy, including other entries on this list so.

-OH and that reminds me, I can’t forget that I also promised @izoryotaro I would at some point watch Nirvana in Fire, so that’s also on the list.

[dustyisforever]

A Shadow of the Colossus Review

by DustyIsForever This is a review. It's about a video game, which is a kind of movie you watch with your hands.

In 2012, Shadow of the Colossus became the first thing I ever saved money to buy. After watching the “Nerd³ Plays” video where he calls it a “perfect game,” I began to daydream about it obsessively. I stuck the facetious label “Ye Olde Jar o Talents” on a mason jar and brought it to school so I could beg my classmates for funds. This worked, however incredulous it was, but I didn’t buy the game. I didn’t buy the game for years, and even after that I didn’t play it for at least a few months. It was like an old Russian novel to me: something that always existed in the future for which I could never consider myself prepared. And then I did play it and it was great.

You can either read it here or on a published Docs page. But be careful. It's pretty long.

This is a review of Shadow of the Colossus. It will contain spoilers. I first played the game a long time ago, but I went back to it a few times over the years. Recently I watched a close friend play it. We had some conversations about it. Soon, I’d like to see my wife play it as well. She can’t read this review yet because she is, incredibly, going to be playing totally blind. You can imagine how rare it is to play something like Shadow of the Colossus without knowing anything about it beforehand.

As I promised not long ago, I'm going to start writing essay-reviews of many games I enjoy. But first, I'd like to elaborate on my method. I have a particular framework for expressing my opinions of these games that I've developed as an alternative to a 10/10, 5/5, 40/40, 100/100, or other numerical art goodness judgment system. The aim is to provide the foolish satisfaction of a number score while cutting back on its pitfalls and biases. Number scores are unhelpful. In a 10/10 system, one finds that a 10 means that the reviewer idolizes the work, a 9, 8, or even a 7 can mean that they enjoyed it, and anything below that might mean that they disliked it, hated it, thought it was tedious, or simply misunderstood it. Opinions don’t fit neatly on a graduated, linear scale. Our value judgments are relative, as in: I liked this more than that; never absolute in the way numbers would suggest. We know this but pretend otherwise. How fun to bestow a cherished piece of art the honor of your perfect number! We're all pleased to think that our opinion is intelligent. My goal is to indulge that, but with restraint.

The first principle of my system is that I only bother rating games that I already know I love. Though there is surely as much to be learned from "bad" art as "good" art, I want to avoid negativity. Also, I find it’s easier to assign a score with restraint and thoughtfulness when a bad score isn't in consideration at all. It also means that I, as a critic, produce fewer reviews overall, which should make each review more characteristic and the overall corpus more consistent.

My second principle is that the highest number I'll use is three. Mr. Ebert was onto something when he made the alluring choice of knocking the tail off of the five-star format. It made all of his ratings look smarter. Five stars was for the common people; real intellectuals expressed their taste in the glamorous new fashion of four. Now it's my turn. I've one-upped the fallen old man, who once failed to appreciate John Carpenter's The Thing (1982). I dare to fly with merely three. And no halfsies, either. No point to it if I’m going to decide to give a game a one-and-a-half because that would be a six-point system in disguise, wouldn’t it?

My final principle is borrowed in part from Famitsu's thing where they divide scores into parts that can be treated either separately or summed. They do that with four reviewers. In my case, I cannot judge the work from the perspective of multiple people (I am only one person). Instead, I split my score into two numbers representing two priorities. That’s two numbers ranging zero to three, written X-Y. For instance, Shadow of the Colossus is a 1-2 game.

The first number, on a scale of zero to three, represents the aesthetic merits of the game. This can include everything experienced by the player. It may consider the art direction, the sound and music, and the narrative design. It also may refer to the dynamics of the design and the "choreography" of interaction, in a very formalist sense borrowed in part from Graeme Kirkpatrick's Aesthetic Theory and the Video Game. Interactive design is just as much a part of the media content of a game as the audiovisual presentation.

To be less academic—I like to summarize the first number as the question: "does it make me cry?" because it captures that it's often a sentimental thing. High-scoring games on the first number tend to be tearjerkers.

Why should Shadow of the Colossus get a one out of three in this category? Well, a one isn't really a low score in the conventional sense. My system is built to specify why a game is great. A zero would mean "this game is great, but it has nothing to do with the aesthetics." I consider Shadow of the Colossus to be aesthetically great, just not as aesthetically great as a few other games.

I like to call the other score “does it blow my mind?” to highlight that it pertains to games that impress me. Expect more elaboration when I get to the second half of the review.

When I first made up this system years ago, I tried to list a bunch of old favorites as examples. At that time, I stamped a 2-1 on Shadow of the Colossus. Mark the difference! It means that now I appreciate its technical achievement more but have tempered my feelings about its content. This change of opinion came to me when I recently watched a close friend play through the game for the first time, hanging out over her shoulder. The banter we shared dampened the emotion of the experience—for example, she already knew Agro was going to fall off a cliff sooner or later and by the time she did, it affected her more like the punchline to a drawn-out joke. I was a little offended. Her more detached play experience exposed some of the game’s weaknesses to me.

In 2012, Shadow of the Colossus became the first thing I ever saved money to buy. After watching the “Nerd³ Plays” video where he calls it a “perfect game,” I began to daydream about it obsessively. I stuck the facetious label “Ye Olde Jar o Talents” on a mason jar and brought it to school so I could beg my classmates for funds. This worked, however incredulous it was, but I didn’t buy the game. I didn’t buy the game for years, and even after that I didn’t play it for at least a few months. It was like an old Russian novel to me: something that always existed in the future for which I could never consider myself prepared. And then I did play it and it was great.

My original rating of two reflected the beautiful score and the sublime desolation of the game, which inhabited me then as it does now. When I take a walk in the woods, I am visited once more by the mystery of “To the Ancient Land.” It’s a good season in my life to return to the game. I’m in a forest often.

But unrelated to my time in forests, I’ve spent the last year thinking a lot about fantasy. I fell out with it some years ago and only recently began rehabilitating my affection for it. Shadow of the Colossus belongs to that estranged clade of fantasy, the fairy tale, which has become my favorite.

Fairy tales are mysterious but well-patterned, made from a pool of common morphologies, which folklorist Vladimir Propp called “functions” with perhaps excessive precision. A glancing comparison will hopefully show how much like a fairy tale Shadow of the Colossus really is. Propp’s functions came originally from his syntax of Russian folk stories. Shadow of the Colossus is neither Russian nor folk, through it deploys several such functions in an identifiable and properly consecutive fashion:

Absentation, interdiction, and violation all before the prologue is over

Trickery as Dormin tells Wander what must be done to revive Mono

Departure, as Wander begins the quest to slay the colossi, and various functions of the Donor, who is also Dormin

Quite a bit of struggle and branding as Wander does his colossus-slaying and dishevels himself gradually with dark magic

Pursuit (by Lord Emon)

And then the punishment and reward are cleverly reversed, because of course in this special video game that people who don’t call all video games art sometimes deign to call art, Wander was in error all along.

I think that to leave the analysis at that would be a failure to appreciate the particular flavor of this story. There are many video game stories where the player character ends up ethically compromised for some narrative effect, but the aesthetic appeal of Shadow of the Colossus is grossly different from, say, Spec Ops: the Line. Wander is more like Hamlet; he retains his hero-ness the whole way through, yet still the fate of his quest is doomed by circumstance.

What he must do is awful and painful to him, but he’s stuck on this path. The closing of the door to the bridge out of the Forbidden Lands is a literalization of this. The inciting events of his journey—the superstitious sacrifice of an innocent girl—make his goals noble from the start, and because he does not have the information to understand the cost of his deeds until it is too late, we cannot say that he is ever malicious. The player is clued in that something is wrong through visual suggestions that Wander does not necessarily see or understand, including the doves and ominous shadow-people which gather at the Shrine of Worship. These devices are not employed in any way that comments specifically on the medium of video games; nothing about them is procedural. They are very conventional vectors of good old-fashioned dramatic irony.

Furthermore, we don’t textually know at all that Dormin is evil. The antagonist Lord Emon who opposes Dormin and Wander is possibly responsible for Mono’s death. He reminds us, if we have played ICO, of the people who unjustly imprison that game’s hero on account of his “cursed” horns. Once we abandon the idea that the Lord Emon narrator/antagonist character is a trustworthy authority, we lose the only voice telling us that Dormin is dangerous. And at the end of the tale Dormin, surprisingly, keeps all of his promises to Wander: Mono is revived and Wander’s body is returned to him. He even gets his horsey back! Very sweet. And the final scenes, which play out leisurely beside the scrolling credits column, show a bright and sun-dappled garden. Mono, robed in her white gown, comforts baby Wander while surrounded by wildlife and green trees. A fawn appears. The imagery is positively lousy with symbols of innocence and spring.

And, if we’re going to permit ourselves to get biblical, isn’t it a little like a reverse Genesis? Wander follows the instructions of a higher power despite a warning from Lord Emon, who has special knowledge. As a result, a woman is saved from her “cursed fate” and the only way out is permanently closed, trapping the woman and the revived hero in the garden of paradise.

Shadow of the Colossus tells a tragic and subversive story, but it does it entirely within the syntax of its folktalesy story genre. It doesn’t have the flavor of subversiveness which comments on other works or the conventions of its own medium. To understand Undertale’s project, you need to be familiar with other JRPGs. Shadow of the Colossus would preserve its message in any medium.

This point isn’t really doing anything to bump my score up or down, but it’s a line of thinking I’ve revisited many times while writing about this game. I think that what really took Shadow of the Colossus from a two down to a one was the inconsistency between encounter designs.

My friend caught on quickly to the first several colossi, even prevailing where I remember having stumbled (my younger self was completely stymied by the sixth, called “Barba” by fans). But as the latter half of the game wore on, she spent more and more time running in circles. Numbers nine, eleven, and twelve all exasperated her. Each of them involves a special trick that must be discovered before they can be made vulnerable. Colossus number eleven, for example, is covered in armor that can only be broken by using a torch to chase it off of a cliff. But no other encounter shows you that there’s anything you can hold in your hands besides the sword and bow you start with. To even get the torch, you need to stand on a plinth holding up a brazier such that the colossus charges at you and knocks the torch loose. But my friend did not even realize that the plinths were climbable; they can only be grabbed from the sides, which is difficult to see and execute when you’re constantly charged at by an enemy that stuns you on the ground for a few whole seconds whenever it hits you. The tedium was too much, and the game lost its magic and atmosphere. The battle against the last colossus was pretty disheartening. No sense of an emotional climax came through. Instead, as I watched my friend fall over and over from its hands and shoulders and whatnot with all the tenacity of a lint-covered novelty sticky hand, I could only hope desperately that she wouldn’t put the game down right then and there.

In some moments, it’s plain to see that Shadow of the Colossus is testing the player’s patience with purpose and meaning. Each encounter culminates with Wander clutching to fur, often on the head of the colossus, holding on just long enough to get a good stab. The colossi shake and Wander dangles on, unable to get a steady hit. It’s frustrating to have to wait for a tiny window of opportunity to land a blow, but this is clearly by design. If the fight could be ended as soon as the player got into stabbing position, the anticipation would resolve too quickly. Giving the player sweaty palms, making them really clench the trigger button, serves to procedurally convey the ordeal Wander faces on-screen. You hold on (to the controller) to hold on (for dear life) in a very successful bit of hand-to-screen parallelism.

But at other times, the game slips away into pointless futility. In many fights, the trick that makes the colossus vulnerable is only effective for a short time, so the player must hurry to seize the opportunity. Often, the time window just isn’t long enough, and the player is compelled to retry, but the novelty of discovering the trick has already disappeared. The ninth colossus’s arena is huge, and when you knock it onto its side, you have to maneuver over to the far side of its body every time. It’s fiddly and protracted, and it’s a case where the game inadequately reacts to the player executing on what should feel like the turning point of the battle. It took my friend about four tries to ascend this colossus successfully. And it’s a turtle, so it isn’t even that tall. Really lame.

My own remembered experience, rooted in some British guy’s twelve-year-old YouTube video, is very different from the one shared with that friend of mine. I saw a game denuded of its majesty by our ongoing joke that Agro would be the final boss; a joke between pals on the proverbial gamer couch. A couch that, if it were not replaced in our case by the deep phenomenological chasm of several US states of distance and a Discord RTC, would be evocative of the one shared by Misters Cheadle and Sandler in the film Reign Over Me.

It’s a largely forgotten film, but consensus says it’s surprisingly well-regarded: Metacritic awards it an impressive 8.5 user score, which it labels “universal acclaim.” Adam Sandler plays a traumatized man who, after losing his family in 9/11, quits his dental career and whittles his days scootering around, playing the drums, and remodeling his kitchen over and over. Don Cheadle is his former college roommate, a successful dentist with a family, who runs into him late one night. The two rekindle their friendship and are both healed for it. This involves a lot of Shadow of the Colossus.

When Don Cheadle first sees Sandler, he can’t get him to stop and talk. Their second encounter happens when Cheadle drops off his daughter at a friend’s house. He intends to go back home to his wife to spend quality time solving a puzzle with her. Suddenly, Sandler flies by on his scooter. So instead, Cheadle gets him to stop and talk. He asks if Sandler is “practicing,” by which he means “practicing dentistry.”

“I’m practicing all the time, up in the valley. Took down twelve of the colossus so far” “The valley? What is that, is that a medical complex or something?” “It’s more… like another dimension. You take a journey, you discover yourself.” (Reign Over Me, 13:50)

He gets Sandler to sit down for Starbucks, where Sandler violates assorted social norms as per a 2007 movie’s notion of a traumatized person. Sandler acts as if he doesn’t remember Cheadle but they make conversation regardless and before you know it, Cheadle is at this guy’s apartment.

Cheadle needs to use the bathroom. Sad music begins to play. Cheadle briefly glimpses a room with furniture covered in sheets—evidence that this man once had a family. Then there’s a mournful-looking shot where the camera stares straight down Sandler’s darkened hall and distantly we see his TV. He’s climbing the first Colossus. That’s a funny thing to do if you’ve finished three quarters of the game. I guess he has more than one save file. So that he can practice more, of course.

As the movie goes on, the two intertwine into each other’s life in a conventionally dramatic way. Sandler is a broken man who throws tantrums and lacks responsibility and ropes Cheadle into a Mel Brooks marathon showing on the night Cheadle’s father dies, and in turn, Cheadle suffers various embarrassments to his career and family because he has compassion for his friend. And sometimes we get to see more Shadow of the Colossus, which Sandler often calls “Shadows” of the Colossus.

In its second appearance, Sandler is fighting the fifth Colossus—my favorite—and Cheadle takes the controller. We get a montage. He can’t put it down. Sandler teases Cheadle, he says he’s addicted (to Shadow of the Colossus). Cheadle jumps to his feet, paces around the couch in frustration: he demands one more try. He refuses Sandler’s suggestion to stop and “let it soak in,” he’s determined to get it this time. Number fifteen falls and Cheadle pumps his fist, shouting “co-lo-ssussss!” in a funny voice. The montage ends, and with it goes our brief window into an otherworld where playing Shadow of the Colossus actually looks like that.

Or, hey, that’s not so fair. Maybe, for Mr. Adam Sandler, playing Shadow of the Colossus is about practicing each fight over and over and pumping your fist triumphantly when you finally win. Maybe he got a New Game Plus save file when he picked it up on eBay that let him fight the colossi out of order. For his character—who, as I’ve neglected to mention, is named Charlie Fineman—the game is supposed to be a metaphor for 9/11, of course.

Back in ‘07, Kotaku managed to get in touch with Jeremy Roush, who worked as an editor for Reign Over Me. Apparently, the role of Shadow of the Colossus in the film was inspired by Roush’s father.

The Vietnam War left his father 100 percent mentally disabled with post-traumatic stress disorder... Unable to work, he spent the days and evenings watching sci-fi thriller Aliens over and over again until he actually had to buy a new VHS tape. "Aliens is a thinly veiled kind of Vietnam veteran kind of story," Roush explains, "and watching it is a way of thinking about it without telling yourself you are thinking about it." The movie was visceral therapy for his father… Refusing to accept the death of loved ones. Seeking out an escape from that truth. Giants falling in slow motion. "You could see where someone who was dealing with 9/11 would be engrossed by a giant that keeps collapsing over and over again," he says. Charlie's therapy was Shadow of the Colossus. (Ashcraft p.2)

Roush, who was responsible for the idea to include the game in the movie, had thought seriously about the thematics. In Reign Over Me, Charlie Fineman’s fixation on Shadow of the Colossus is a deliberate symbol of his grief, boxed into a safe and distant replica of tragedy which he can watch himself overcome again and again on the plasma TV.

Later on in the film, Cheadle manages to drag Sandler to weekly therapist sessions, but they go nowhere. Sandler refuses to speak about his family and leaves each session after just a few minutes. But he does say “I like to play Colossus!” (Reign, 1:13:29). In this movie’s understanding of mentally ill people, or at least in Roush’s, PTSD sufferers seek out proxy-triggers to act out the procedure of grieving with none of the pain. I think that I preferred the movie before I learned this. It just doesn’t make as much sense to say that the colossi are all supposed to be, like, the twin towers. Isn’t that bizarre? I mean, I had just assumed that the game was more broadly supposed to be a parallel to the ordeal of overcoming grief, and that the colossi were the grief. Grief is like a colossus, or like colossi, because it can feel so much bigger than the griever, so invincible and enduring. That’s why it was so strange to me that he never makes it further through the game over the course of the movie. In the very last scene, when he’s in his new and well-lit apartment, do you know what he’s doing? He’s playing it again, but he’s back to number thirteen. I really expected him to finish the game by the end, which would parallelize his grief struggle with a struggle to take down the colossi. It would represent something. However, the truth is that the colossus encounters are supposed to be 9/11, and he’s mentally recreating a facsimile of 9/11 every time he plays the game. Infinite, furry World Trade Centers getting stabbed by Adam Sandler over and over.

Sorry, that might have been a digression in poor taste. You didn’t expect to read a review of Reign Over Me within this review of Shadow of the Colossus and it was a little deceptive of me to jam it in there. But I thought about it so much, you have to understand! It’s fascinating to me how I could arrive at such a different interpretation of the movie than was apparently intended. The same difference goes for the game itself: Mr. Roush definitely got the gist of Shadow of the Colossus, but he applied the game to the movie in such a different way than I would have.

Let’s talk about the technical side of things instead for a short while. A nice palate-cleanser. It might seem unbalanced to devote one half of the score system to technology that is seldom appreciated by the audience—this score is more than that. Perhaps you were left confused when I didn’t explain it in much detail earlier, back when I was still laying out the way the system works. The slogan “does it blow my mind?” suggests that this category seeks to appreciate the craft of game development. A good example of something non-technological that “blows my mind” would be the dialogue system in Hades; the incredible effort of writing such a massive script and then organizing it so cleverly certainly does blow my mind, speaking as a game developer and a very slow writer.

Shadow of the Colossus is an exceptionally technically impressive game that deserves more than the 1 I assigned it on the spot so long ago. Through optimization, fakery, and creativity, it packs in the most sophisticated graphics the PlayStation 2 can handle, including HDR lighting, self-shading, long-distance level-of-detail mesh transitions, real-time fur rendering, volumetric particles, and anisotropic light scattering. Most of these practices were considered next-gen at the time of the game’s release. Some of them still feel shiny and new in 2024.

Team ICO accomplished this through ingenuity and strict scoping. Out of any of my sources, I learned the most about it here. Of particular interest to me is the usage of procedural animation and inverse kinematics, of which I’m a big fan. If you are one of the few beautiful souls in this loving universe who have read my blog(s) before, you know that I’ve been working on and off for a long time on a project that relies heavily on inverse kinematics called Flower Pot. The inexpensive algorithm I use in my own work, called FABRIK, was not published until 2011. Furthermore, Shadow of the Colossus has very complex character models and needs to clearly telegraph the movements of the player character and the colossi. For this reason it also dynamically combines animation data keyframed by an animator with the movements computed by the inverse kinematics algorithms. They did this on a CPU that clocked at about 294 megahertz (see Diefendorff).

I won’t reproduce diagrams here because they’re already available in the translated article on Léna Piquet’s website, which I linked above and which may also be found in my sources. To be honest, there is less for me to write in this section of the review because there is not much new to say. The achievements and process of Team ICO have been extensively documented and explained, much more than almost any other game. What is especially unique about Shadow of the Colossus is that much of this dissection and documentation has been done by outsiders: fans who never had access to the team or their materials.

Of particular note is Nomad Colossus. I found a Fandom wiki article about this guy. It says, “Nomad Colossus is a well-known figure in The Shadow of The Colossus community. He's most well-known for his insane dedication to the game and downright jaw-dropping data-mining” (Team Ico Wiki). Passionate! But the article has no comments. Yet on the other hand, a skim of the community message log page shows that at least a dozen users have worked on this wiki within the last several months. A tantalizing window into a community, or one of a million lost corners of the internet? I cannot rightfully say.

Nomad Colossus uploaded their first Shadow of the Colossus-related YouTube video in April of 2010, four and a half years post-release. It’s been much longer than that since Breath of the Wild came out and I’m still surprised whenever I see someone running it in an emulator. The video is titled “Shadow of the Colossus - Through the entrance,” and it shows Wander on horseback in an area normally inaccessible except in cutscenes: the north bridge into the central shrine. He rides Agro through the narrow gate passage on the other end of the bridge. The path continues into a void for a long ways, but the horse stops as if running into a wall.

Since then, Nomad Colossus has published 346 videos (if I’m counting correctly) pertaining to Shadow of the Colossus, prying at it with camera hacks, model viewers, and data manipulation. He reveals mountains and plains and islands and ruins all inaccessible in normal play. Their work, comprising so many short, uncommentated videos, can be engaged with as a companion book to the game; Nomad gradually turns the elusive horizons of the Forbidden Lands back into data, into geometry stored in a file system. Numbers on computers permit no mysteries. A number is autological; before being applied to another end it represents only itself. A number is atomic, it has no secret compartments. Through the efforts of explorers like Nomad Colossus and their emulators, no pit has been left unaccounted for on the DVD-ROM. Nomad renders Shadow of the Colossus into a wholly unmysterious object. This is not a criticism of their work.

At the same time, the game continues to support an incredible abundance of perceived mystery. After all, this was why Nomad Colossus’s work began. The so-called Secret Seekers and their famous thread on the PSN forums were dedicated to unearthing what they imagined to be the mother-of-all easter eggs. They began with intense clue-hunting and then moved on to the less speculative arts of boundary breaking and data mining, albeit after dozens of pages of effusive discussion. The intentions behind the game’s design were a favorite topic. Their style of discourse was dense with wild, associative connections; the possibility of subtextual hints by means of biblical allusion was on the table before even the end of the first post (Quest for the Last Big Secret). “Fumito Ueda is infamous for his attention to the most minute, intricate detail,” this post says. But to say he is infamous for this—does that not suggest the consensus of many people? I suspect that the Ueda these individuals imagined was not an accurate model of the real one. There was no secret last colossus, after all.

These are only a few of many voices on the internet professing all kinds of opinions about the game, its content, its intentions and meanings and forms. A quick survey will show substantial diversity of interpretation: I found a passionate review on the “patientgamers” subreddit decrying Shadow of the Colossus as “one of the worst games I’ve ever played” for its “non-existent story” and “Genuinely awful clunky movement and controls” (AstraFuckingGooGoo). In “Shadow of the Colossus: a Retrospective View,” NoobFeed user BrunoBRS calls the game “a love story, of what limits can a man go for his loved one, but it is, most importantly, the tale of David and Goliath” in a passage of lavish praise for “what he truly believes is the greatest game of all time” (BrunoBRS). The similarly-titled “Shadow of the Colossus: A Retrospective,” an article on The Boss Key, calls it “a game all about and only about killing the boss monsters as a means to an end” (Koop). “Shadow of the Colossus Retrospective– A Tragically Beautiful Love Story,” brought to us by Taylor Lyles on DualShockers, says it’s “so much more than just a boss rush game; it is the story of a boy who cared so much for someone he loved that unleashed all sorts of hellish things to save her” (Lyles). Shadow of the Colossus retrospectives are, as they say, like assholes: everybody has one. I am included. Shades of consensus and contradiction are to be found in abundance in each discussion of the game.

And what of my own opinions? They depend on a perceived counter-opinion in many ways. My revised scoring suggests how I remember my past self. In my discussion of the aesthetic content of the game, I call for a new perspective that de-emphasizes the notion that Shadow of the Colossus deliberately works to subvert a convention of the medium of video games. But couldn’t I be accused of failing to establish that this notion existed in the first place? Let me provide an example of that notion, at least. Here’s another retrospective. It has the word “retrospective” in its title. It’s called “START/SELECT: Consuming Loneliness: A ‘Shadow of the Colossus’ Retrospective,” and it was written by Mac Riga for the Georgetown University student newspaper. Here’s Riga’s take:

Team Ico sought to make a game that laid bare the contradiction of video games. It held up this beautiful medium, the pinnacle of self-isolation and escapism yet one that fosters empathy and self-reflection more than any other, and begged the player to wrestle with that irony — to come to their own conclusions about what it means to be alone, what it means to consume video games and what it means to do both simultaneously. (Riga)

This is surprising. Riga isn’t talking about the moral irony of monster-slaying in video games, which is more or less the topic of the counter-opinion I imagined myself to be opposing. But he is saying that Shadow of the Colossus is trying to engage in conversation with a convention of the medium of games, and to me that was the important part. For Riga, it’s a game about “self-isolation” and “empathy.”

Maybe it would be helpful to check what Fumito Ueda has to say. Even if you’re the type to faithfully invoke The Death of the Author, you might still agree, I hope, that discovering the designer’s intent will provide a reference against which to compare other views.

“I’ve never thought that “cruelty” is something forbidden in video games. Video games seem to require cruelty as a means of expression, and that being the case, I wanted to try and present my own take on cruelty. That was really the seed idea of Shadow of the Colossus.” (Ueda)

Here in a 2005 interview with CONTINUE magazine, Ueda casts Shadow of the Colossus as a game about cruelty inspired by the cruelty he sees as required in games. My analysis is thrown into doubt even further! It was intended as a deconstruction all along. But wait—Fumito Ueda from 2019 might be here to save me.

Was the overall aim of SOTC to question why it is that most games are about killing and how we have grown so comfortable doing so in a virtual existence? Fumito Ueda: I play games where violence is a factor myself, so I do not dismiss such games. However, through the production of Shadow of the Colossus, I started having doubts about simply “feeling good by beating monsters” and “getting a sense of accomplishment”. I tried thinking if there were any other choices for different kinds of expression, then ended up with such settings and rules as a result. Rather than try to deliberately create some sort of antithesis, I focused more on the consistency of the design as a product and differentiation (from other products). (Taylor)

Apologies for another long block quote; I really think the context is worth leaving in here because it helps to illustrate that, while Ueda is not exactly contradicting himself, different circumstances have prompted two answers with very different implications. The interviewer in the latter source seems to be aligned with the popular view that the game narrative is chiefly an exploration of morality. Which I do not disagree with, either: I should reiterate that my disagreement is with the view that the game narrative is specifically an exploration of morality in the medium of video games. The interviewer suggests that by saying that “most games are about killing.” Ueda seems to dismiss the idea by going on to say that the game was not crafted as “some sort of antithesis,” but that those themes emerged simply by trying to make a unique story. But in the former interview, Ueda asserts that he was “inspired” by the prevalence of “cruelty” in games. We are deprived of an authorial view where we might find stability; such a thing would have protected us, maybe, from the wild menagerie of contrasting views we face instead.

And could it be possible, if you would excuse the sudden break, that Reign Over Me (2007) starring Adam Sandler and Don Cheadle might not have always been actively trying to frame Shadow of the Colossus as a pseudo-Freudian stand-in for 9/11? More importantly, do we have any meaningful way to be sure? No, I think it’s more likely that suggestive forces have moved in with us permanently and that their furniture is too numerous and heavy for us to kick them out. It is impossible to speak on the aesthetics of a work, especially one so widely critiqued as Shadow of the Colossus, without necessarily speaking on what was spoken before. It is impossible to even play the game without encountering these extratextual conversations.

When I watched my friend play Shadow of the Colossus for the first time, I must have already been faintly aware of this phenomenon. The process of finding an appropriate emulator and an appropriate ROM led her through websites already saturated with extratextual content that suggested certain ideas of the game content. She had heard me speak of the game before. She had already listened to much of its music, accompanied on YouTube by comments. Being someone interested in games herself, she had certainly already encountered discussions of the game content like this one. She knew damn well that Agro would fall off that bridge. From all of this it is clear to me that the “extratext” was always inescapable. If she were to encounter the game truly without prior knowledge it would still not have “saved” her because she would just discover the extratext afterwards.

And what of my wife? My poor sweet wife? Just as no dry beach is spared from the tide, she too will be inundated by extratext that will indelibly shape how she receives and interprets the game content. She will not be a source of a “pure” opinion, but only another source of interpretation. She will never play Shadow of the Colossus as it was when it came out in 2005.

The space in consideration is a “consensus blob.” It has no hard boundaries, but it has gradients. Within the blob there are many shades of interpretation, but few overt contradictions except when comparing extremes. The blob is uncentered because there is no single “correct” or most stable interpretation. Areas of the blob give the appearance of a “consensus,” a shared notion or common interpretation, but really the gradient is everywhere and always-changing, like an amoeba. Even the creator of the art object can sway from point to point in the blob, forgetting wherever it was they started. The consensus is heraclitean. The extratext is absolutely inseparable from the text.

Really, we shouldn’t be miffed about it. Shadow of the Colossus can be about a lot of things, it’s not like we need a single definitive analysis. It will be a joy to watch my wife play, and I will be delighted to see what she thinks. I’m sure it will be new and exciting.

Overall, I give Reign Over Me a strong 6/10.

Sources

AstraFuckingGooGoo. “Shadow of the Colossus (PS4)- one of the worst games I’ve ever played.” r/patientgamers. https://www.reddit.com/r/patientgamers/comments/ujnx5q/shadow_of_the_colossus_ps4_one_of_the_worst_games/. Accessed 8 Aug. 2024.

Binder, Mike, dir. 2007. Reign over Me. Screenplay by Mike Binder. Columbia Pictures.

BrunoBRS. “Shadow of the Colossus: a Retrospective View”. Noobfeed. 27 Sep. 2011. https://www.noobfeed.com/features/160/shadow-of-the-colossus-a-retrospective-view

Diefendorff, Keith. “Sony’s Emotionally Charged Chip.” Microprocessor Report, vol. 13, no. 5.

Koop, Brandon. “Shadow of the Colossus: A Retrospective.” The Boss Key, 10 Apr. 2014, https://bradenkoop.wordpress.com/2014/04/10/shadow-of-the-colossus-a-retrospective/.

Lyles, Taylor. “Shadow of the Colossus Retrospective -- A Tragically Beautiful Love Story.” DualShockers, 26 Jan. 2018, https://www.dualshockers.com/shadow-of-the-colossus-retrospective/.

Metacritic. Reign over Me. https://www.metacritic.com/movie/reign-over-me/. Accessed 15 Aug. 2024.

“Nomad Colossus.” Team Ico Wiki, https://teamico.fandom.com/wiki/Nomad_Colossus.  Accessed 8 Aug. 2024.

Peeren, Esther. “Compelling Memory: 9/11 and the Work of Mourning in Mike Binder’s Reign Over Me.” Cultural Critique, vol. 92, no. 1, Dec. 2016, pp. 57–83. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.1353/cul.2016.a617380.

Piquet, Léna, translator. “The Making of ‘Shadow of the Colossus.’” Froyok, Dec. 2007, https://pure.uva.nl/ws/files/2772150/175939_PUBLISHED_Peeren_617380.pdf.

Quest for the Last Big Secret / Mysteries of SotC. PlayStation Community Forums, archived May 2013. http://web.archive.org/web/20130505104658/http://community.us.playstation.com/t5/Shadow-of-the-Colossus-PS2/Quest-for-the-Last-Big-Secret-Mysteries-of-SotC/td-p/20178777

Riga, Mac. “START/SELECT: Consuming Loneliness: A ‘Shadow of the Colossus’ Retrospective.” The Hoya, https://thehoya.com/guide/start-select-consuming-loneliness-a-shadow-of-the-colossus-retrospective/. Accessed 12 Aug. 2024.

Taylor, Jay. “Interview Extra: Fumito Ueda (Ico, Shadow of the Colossus, The Last Guardian).” Cane and Rinse, 27 Aug. 2019, https://caneandrinse.com/fumito-ueda-interview/.

Ueda, Fumito. Interview for CONTINUE Magazine, vol. 25., 2005. Translated by shmuplations, https://shmuplations.com/ueda/. Accessed 13 Aug. 2024.

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Artist's Blog - Desperado (1994)

Desperado: A Classic Film Revisited 

Recently, I rewatched Desperado from 1995. I had seen this movie years ago, and it was time for a rewatch with my blog spectacles on. This is one of those classic films that I can't imagine anyone disliking. Desperado is a solid film with many good qualities and is very well-executed. Let’s explore the details of why this film is so compelling in the following paragraphs.

Recognizing Signatures in Desperado 

For art fans out there, you know how some artists have such a distinct style that their work is immediately recognizable? You could show me a Norman Rockwell, Van Gogh, or Picasso piece I’ve never seen, and I could still be 100% sure who the artist is just by the style. This applies to many things, including fashion. For instance, if you see three stripes, y’all know it's from adidas. I’m learning that films have this quality too. Just two minutes into Desperado, I recognized the signatures of its creators. I initially thought Tarantino was involved—turns out he was—and it also felt heavily influenced by Rodriguez, which was true, as he directed it. When I watched it years ago, I didn’t notice these details as much as I do now.

Probably the most noticeable signature in Desperado is the character dialogue. Tarantino's movies often have few scenes, but they are lengthy. They are lengthy not because of numerous events but because of deep, engaging dialogue that draws you in, making you feel part of the characters' lives. This engagement makes the film more relatable, at least from my perspective. I talked more about this in my blog on Death Proof which you can read here. You can see this in the opening scene of Desperado. Buscemi doesn't just say, “You’re about to get dealt with.” Instead, he tells a long, engaging joke about how scary this guy is, really building him up. I see the same writing styles used by Rodriguez.

Desperado: Genius in Film and Music 

I’m a fan of hip hop and most music genres. Just for the record, Wu-Tang is hip-hop in its purest form, but I also highly respect Outkast. One thing I admire about some artists is their ability to make words rhyme that don’t naturally rhyme. Very few can do this well. For example, they might pronounce a word using an accent that makes it rhymes with another word that it usually wouldn’t. This kind of creativity is a mark of genius in my opinion. Desperado had this uncanny make-a-square-fit-through-a-triangle-hole ability too. You’ll have to watch the movie to really see what I mean because I am not able to articulate it but, surf rock and Mexican gun fights fit! I never see this working but, Desperado made it happen. This too is the mark of genius.

Desperado's Iconic Shootouts  

If you enjoy shoot-'em-up movies, Desperado is a must-see. You can find a complete list of all the guns used in the film here. Some things stand out, though. First, there’s a crotch gun. From what I read, there were alternate scenes featuring the surprise crotch gun. You might recognize this gun from Tom Savini’s character in From Dusk Till Dawn, released a year later. Also, Desperado features an iconic opening scene with a guitar case hiding a beautiful collection of guns. You must watch the whole movie to appreciate the full effect, but the case has a false bottom full of guns. If you’d like, you can watch just this scene here, but I recommend watching the entire film. Later in the movie, there’s another case doubling as a rocket launcher.

The Stellar Cast of Desperado

Another great aspect of Desperado is its cast. It features Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, Cheech, Danny Trejo, Steve Buscemi, Quentin Tarantino, and others. Each of these characters fits so well together. I’ve mentioned this in other blogs, but when you have a cast that seems to mesh well, it automatically elevates the movie. This clearly works, as seen in From Dusk Till Dawn, another Tarantino classic that features many of the same actors, including Salma Hayek, Danny Trejo, and Cheech. Joaquim de Almeida, who plays Bucho, also does a fantastic job as an antagonist.

Desperado: Artistic Inspiration

From an artistic perspective, I thoroughly enjoyed Desperado. Living in the southeastern United States, I find the color schemes of South America visually appealing. We have a lot of green here, which can get boring. In Mexico, where Desperado was filmed, the color palette includes reds, oranges, and browns—a beautiful combination. Contrasting these colors are the black suits and Salma Hayek’s hair. White trim on clothes, muted greens, and occasional purples are pleasantly scattered throughout the film. I could probably watch Desperado without sound and still enjoy it just as much. I had to pause several times to take sketchbook notes. There are so many sketches I want to do from Desperado. I’m feeling oils too – I can’t wait to jump into the paint using this muse!

Why Desperado Is a New Favorite

Desperado has easily become one of my new favorites. It features armored limos, gunfights, more gunfights, great characters, a surprisingly engaging story with a twist ending, and so many guns. I don't know how I could not love this movie and watch it repeatedly. Plus, it’s from 1995, a time when movies were creative, stylistic, and well-crafted. I feel that nothing tops the guitar gun case scene, and they placed it first, which I thought was odd, but otherwise, I have nothing but praise for Robert Rodriguez’s Desperado. What’s your favorite scene? Who’s your favorite character? Let me know in the comments. Follow my art journey on social media, visit my website, and buy my art here. If you’ve enjoyed this blog or this movie, please share. Peace.

[grimdarkfandango]

riley's rec list 2023

oo-er alliteration, ladidah

AIGHT SO hello so I saw a fic rec list yesterday and was like. damn son I love rec lists. and then I read a fic off it and went DAMN SON I LOVE REC LISTS so guess what y'all are getting for 2024. it's a fic rec list! congratulations release the crocodiles

these are in approximately no order whatsoever. not all of these came out in 2023, but some of them did, and I definitely read them with my eyeballs then.

I'm not bothering with a readmore you know how to scroll happy new year

One Hundred Years Past by tciddaemina | BOTW/LoZ | Ganondorf/Link | 39k + sequels Link wakes up a hundred years early. It changes everything.

y'all I only read this two days ago and I am Ob Sessed. what if Ganondorf picked Link up like a feral stray in the desert. What if he dodged calamity with the power of dick and this twink he found. What if the second story in the series was designed in a lab to make me feral. What if!

Pinned and Needled by surveycorpsjean | One Piece (manga/anime) | Zoro/Sanji | 35k Sanji struggles with an injury that prevents him from cooking. Around the same time, Zoro starts to act strange.

[deep fucking inhale] SO. sometimes you are ambling at a slowish pace through a manga with over 1100 chapters and then an author you really like drops a fic for the couple you are rotating in your head and so you go 'hey cool let me just read that' and you don't even get half the plot references in the story but it's enough because then you read 700 chapters in A Week and now you're caught up and get to read it all over again and scream even louder

like a bird on a wire by tierfal | BNHA/MHA (manga) | Endeavor/Hawks | 8k The aftermath, and the undertow, and something like a sunrise.

we still don't know what the aftermath of the war will be [stares into the middle distance about the most recent chapter] so enjoy this hurt/comfort from after ch 390!! I just... love Hawks... it's about the devotion...

I'm realising of all of the recs here this one might need the most canon knowledge to make sense but. also. what if you read 410 chapters of manga and then talked to me about it...

Facade by Hazel_Athena | One Piece (manga/anime) | Zoro/Sanji | 32k Left with only three other crew mates, it’s a ready expectation that Sanji will start fawning all over Robin in his usual obnoxious way. However, that’s not what happens. Instead, looking wild around the eyes in a way only someone who knows him well would recognize, the cook doesn’t break stride until he’s firmly within Zoro’s orbit and can wrap both hands around his upper arm, clinging tight. “Hi, darling,” he chirps, his expression desperately conveying that Zoro needs to play along under pain of death. “Did you miss me?”

ZOSAN FAKE DATING MARRIAGE LESGOOOO

this is just so much fluff and also zoro being in PainTM and I love a good trope mmkay

Carry You Home (In My Teeth) by DistortedDaytime | Stranger Things | Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | 51k All Billy wants to do is lick his wounds and sleep off a bad night. Instead, he wakes up to find his furrier half stranded in Steve Harrington’s laundry room.

Billy the werewolf! Eddie the vampire! Steve the Steve! I am cheating a little bit because I got to cheer this on first-hand as it was being written BUT also it's just really, really, really fun. And horny. And full of Billy's Issues. Plus some neat werewolf worldbuilding and my favourite type of Deus Ex Maxine.

Everything In Its Right Place by JustSomeGuyDontWorryAboutIt | Mandalorian | Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth | 12k In which Cobb Vanth is forced off-planet, roped into a rescue mission, and made to stew torturously in his feelings. Just because you’ve spent months fantasizing about shucking him from that armour like a Sorgan krill doesn’t mean he’s thought about you even once, he reminded himself. Don’t make this awkward. Just enjoy the company while it lasts.

I, too, think Cobb should get to tap that so hard they cause an interstellar incident about it. And that's after he charms the last remaining jedi into giving the kid back.

Same As It Ever Was by QuokkaFoxtrot | Stranger Things | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | 62k "Deja-vu? Like you feel like you've done this before, because-" "No!" Steve snaps, feeling everyone's attention snap to him. He lowers his voice, aiming it so that only Nancy can hear. "I mean I've carried Eddie's body back to the rift in the trailer. Twice." --- Sometimes it can take a while to become the man you want to be.

Sometimes a good friend slides you a link to a fic their friend has started writing with a 'hey you ship this, check this out' and then you lose your whole fucking mind, usually directly into the comment box, until the whole thing is complete. This is the time loop fic of DREAMS. This is the GOLD FUCKING STANDARD. This has, unequivocally, REWIRED MY GODDAMN BRAIN. This is, as far as I'm concerned, one of the best fics ever written. Run don't walk.

THAT'S IT HAPPY NEW YEAR

[writing-for-life]

We Are Made Of Star Matter

A couple of days ago, this post flitted across my screen, and it made me think about a piece I wrote three years ago. So I just thought I’d share some personal thoughts about autumn, aging, mortality and being connected. And I’m looking at it now and recognise that there are repeating themes in there that have always resonated with me, even when I was a lot younger. Plus, for my Sandfam: There's a lot in there that resonates in that way, too...

And don’t worry, it’s not depressing. At least I hope so…

Autumn

My daughter has started doing divisions at school. Recently, on our walk back home through a very autumnal park with fallen leaves everywhere, we talked about the seasons, and how many parts of a whole each of them are individually.

»You know, humans go through seasons in their lives, too. If you assumed someone would be 80 before they died, how long would every season of their life be?«

»20 years?« She does a quick calculation in her head. »Which means I’m still in spring!«

»Pretty much so. And where am I?«

She does the numbers again. »Autumn.«

Autumn

That season when nature moves from growth and abundance to going more inward and protecting its very essence. When the outer signs and displays of renewal and fertility begin to whither away…

It would be straightforward to feel a bit uneasy about that transition. And at times, I do. I look in the mirror and see those signs: The facial features that change. The body that transitions. The change of colours (more and more greys). The daily physical pain that’s been around for quite a few years, but that I rarely talk about.

A body that slowly but surely prepares for winter. Nothing can change that, no matter how much we wish for it. No matter how much the performing arts glorify youth. No matter how sexist, misogynistic and deeply rooted in patriarchy that is. No matter how much we might lament the visible transition, or even try to stop it outwardly. We can’t. The body will do its thing, just like nature does.

It’s not a binary one of two things: Embrace it or try to escape it. It’s both, and everything in between. There are days when I wonder where time went, and what the flip happened.

However, there are as many days when I can see and appreciate the beauty of autumn. The change of colours, the giving back to where I once was and came from. But also the turning inward, the concentrating on what really matters, the getting better at preserving energy instead of incessantly expending it, the shedding of what no longer serves me. And there is goodness and beauty in that. A sense of gratitude for not having to put on the often loud display of spring and summer that’s all about, you know, proving that you have something going for you. That you’re eligible, that you are good material for the survival of the species, whatever that means individually (because it can be interpreted in many ways that go far beyond reproduction)…

At the end of the day, mortality stares us in the face once we move from summer to autumn. But isn’t that strange — it’s always been there, not just when we transition into midlife and beyond. Just like the heatwave in summer that destroys life, or the floods, or the unexpected touch of frost in spring that ends what has just begun. If I were to share the fate of the last two generations of women in my family, none of whom lived much past 60 (or didn’t even reach it), I would not even be in autumn. I would have reached the winter of my life by now.

Pánta Rheî

And maybe that’s what’s truly important. Appreciating the beauty of movement, of ebb and flow, of impermanence. The fleeting moments, no matter how much we want to hold on to them — we have to let them go, just like the tree lets go of its leaves.

However, maybe we sometimes wish time stood still, if just for a moment. Time, that arbitrary human concept that is more about perception than anything else. And yet, it’s visible, graspable, and inescapable.

I recently watched Midnight Mass (»What a strange change of subject«, you might think, but bear with me). I was apprehensive about it because I usually don’t like horror, but this one surprised me because it had many very deeply philosophical moments I didn’t expect (NB: I am not religious in any shape or form, maybe what most people would call an agnostic atheist. I can see why religious people might not like it, or might even find it offensive).

There is a beautiful moment when Erin talks about dying I’d like to share with you (you might not want to read on if you feel it would be a spoiler).

We Are Made Of Star Matter

»Myself. My self. That’s the problem. That’s the whole problem with the whole thing. That word, self. That’s not the word. That’s not right, that isn’t…

How did I forget that? When did I forget that?

The body stops a cell at a time, but the brain keeps firing those neurons. Little lightning bolts, like fireworks inside, and I thought I’d despair or feel afraid, but I don’t feel any of that. None of it. Because I’m too busy. I’m too busy in the moment, remembering.

I remember that every atom in my body was forged in a star. This matter, this body is mostly empty space after all, and solid matter. It’s just energy vibrating very slowly while there is no me. There never was. The electrons of my body mingle and dance with the electrons of the ground below me and the air I’m no longer breathing. And I remember there is no point where any of that ends and I begin.

I remember I am energy. Not memory. Not self. My name, my personality, my choices, all came after me. I was before them and I will be after, and everything else is pictures, picked up along the way. Fleeting little dreamlets printed on the tissue of my dying brain. And I am the lightning that jumps between. I am the energy firing the neurons, and I’m returning. Just by remembering, I’m returning home. And it’s like a drop of water falling back into the ocean, of which it’s always been a part.

All things… a part. You, me and my little girl, and my mother and my father, everyone who’s ever been, every plant, every animal, every atom, every star, every galaxy, all of it. More galaxies in the universe than grains of sand on the beach. And that’s what we’re talking about when we say ‘God’. The cosmos and its infinite dreams. We are the cosmos dreaming of itself. It’s simply a dream that I think is my life, every time. But I’ll forget this. I always do. I always forget my dreams. But now, in this split-second, in the moment I remember, the instant I remember, I comprehend everything at once. There is no time. There is no death. Life is a dream. It’s a wish. Made again and again and again and again and again and again and on into eternity. And I am all of it. I am everything. I am all. I am that I am.«

Whether you are comfortable with this perspective or not, it is hard not to acknowledge some simple truths behind it. During every season of our lives, but especially during autumn and winter. Maybe it’s just not the truth we want to hear when we are focused on the self. We all are to a degree, and I think that’s also natural. We seek meaning. But isn’t that meaning there by default?

Maybe, just maybe, if we remembered the complicated simplicity behind it all, we would feel more at home. Within ourselves, but also in the world, and with each other.

Alas, “Life is a dream. It’s a wish.” …

[nedjemetsenen]

Why do Fanfic writers generally hate “constructive” criticism?

This is a topic that comes across my dash a couple times a month, but those posts generally focus on how unsolicited criticism is rude. Today, I wanted to take a moment to talk about the ways that it’s also generally useless even if you’re trying to be helpful. To do this, I will be using examples from my own comment section, but please do not seek those comments out. This post is about informing, not about creating a hate mob.

Issue One: You don't know if your criticism is already known

No story is perfect. There will always be flaws. Sometimes you find a flaw that the author can improve on. Sometimes you pick up on something that the author accepted as a flaw during the writing process for whatever reason. It may have been because they're writing for fun. It may have been because they liked the flawed version of the story better than the story without the flaw. It may be because they genuinely didn't know how to fix it, but still wanted to tell the story flaw and all.

To give an example of this, here’s an excerpt from a truly lovely comment where the person also tried to give some helpful feedback:

you did a fantastic job with the characters you altered to fit the story. They were mostly rounded and felt like whole people instead of cardboard cut-outs. However, this made the characters that you didn't change feel very flat. [List of characters] often felt like window dressing, like they were included solely because they were part of the original show.

This is exactly why those characters showed up in that fic and the issue of them being window dressing isn’t something that I introduced. It’s a flaw in the original work. To fix this issue, I would have cut these characters or merged them into one character. But this wasn’t original fiction. It was fanfiction, so I decided to sacrifice quality for the sake of honoring the source as it felt wrong to remove these guys when they’re a classic part of the roster. I also actively chose to not develop them more as it would have killed the pacing and added nothing to the story I was trying to tell. There are characters that I arguably should have given more screen time to in that fic, but these were not those characters.

Issue Two: Timeliness

Unless the story is newly published, you have no idea if your criticism is still useful. Even if it is newly published, how long has the fic been going for? Are you critiquing a chapter from 3 years ago or last week? Unless it’s the latest chapter, you don’t know. Even if it is the latest chapter, you don’t know when it was written. Sometimes people find an old work of theirs and just post it without editing because they don’t want to edit and they know people will enjoy the story as-is. Sometimes people write the whole fic and then post it week by week while they work on the next one.

I recently had someone ask me for some feedback on a section of dialogue and I pointed out an area for potential improvement. The person who asked for the feedback has read some of my stuff and pointed out that I’d used a similar technique in a fic and they were absolutely correct. I had. But the fic was a few years old and I simply haven’t yet taken the time to go back and edit all 100k+ of it. I write at least a quarter of a million words every year and that means that I’m always learning. It’s incredibly rare for me to reread an old piece of mine without finding something to edit. It won’t always be something major, but it’s there. Waiting. Taunting me.

Along similar lines, if you're pointing out a flaw that's specific to the story, I'm not sure what you're expecting to happen next. While some writers go back and edit old works (I certainly have), a lot of writers consider older works done and prefer to focus on new ones.

Issue Three: Most people are shockingly bad at giving good constructive criticism.

Constructive criticism is a skill that you have to learn and practice. It’s also genuinely difficult to learn as it's the difference between helping a person tell the story that you want to read and helping them tell the best version of the story that they want to tell. The first is not good crit, but it is the crit that most people give.

There are times when I’ll beta for a fic and think “that character would never do that”, but that’s terrible feedback because I’m imposing my version of the character over the author’s take on the character and they’re not trying to tell a story with my headcanons. They’re using theirs and my job as an editor/beta is to accept that and help them tell their story as best they can.

I've also been given feedback like this. Here’s an excerpt from a comment where someone pointed out something that they didn’t like in one of my fics:

it's cute to see him like this once in a while but he's a grown man and "adorable" feels a little out of place in this situation

This is utterly useless feedback and I will die on that hill. In my opinion, I wrote this character perfectly because this is how I see him. It’s my headcanon and the version of him that you'll see in all of my fics. What’s funny is that I actually think that I got the female lead in this story a bit wrong. I should have toned her down, but this was early in my journey to learn these characters and then we’re back to issue two.

Final Thoughts

If an author asks for constructive criticism, then absolutely feel free to give it to them, but if you've ever wondered why most authors don't, the above is probably why. It's why I only welcome grammatical corrections and historical/cultural accuracy corrections on my own fics. Those are the only comments that I've ever found useful.

There are times when I seek out other types of feedback. I just don't get it from random readers after the story is already published. I get it from select individuals during the writing process and that's the feedback process favored by most writers as it's the one that's most likely to lead to improvement.

If you ever come across a fic that you love, but you feel like it could use an editor, my advice is to leave a comment saying how much you love the story and then offer to beta read (the fandom word for an editor. No I don't know why fandom has a different definition for that word than the definition used in the publishing industry. It just is what it is.) And if you don't want to take the time to beta for someone, that's okay! But if you don't want to make the massive time commitment to truly help the person improve, then maybe don't give unsolicited feedback that's more likely to make them stop writing altogether? I promise you, that person will improve on their own just by writing more. I certainly did! If you read the fanfic that I wrote when I was 13, you'd be shocked by how bad it is compared to my current stuff.

I personally consider that fact a source of pride.

[harmonyckrs]

Act 1, Scene 2 of Twisted Veronaville: The Homosexual Supporting Cast

THE LAST PAGE

Every four years, the Summerdreams host a party and invite both the Capps and the Montys, in hopes of establishing peace. This used to be once per year, but got moved to four years after Mercutio ended up in the hospital from an especially bad fight with Tybalt.

The most recent party was a special one: Oberon and Titania have once again sworn their loyalty to each other, and Puck had his first kiss with Hermia.

Puck: Congrats on getting married again, Mom!

Titania: Thanks, dear. This party was a success, wasn't it?

Puck: Seems so! But Mercutio saw me kissing Hermia, and I think he's upset.

Oberon: You can talk to him about it, can you? Just host another party...we'll make it a boys only party, just so it won't be repetitive! How about that?

Puck: (I'm not sure if I'm a boy, though)...Sure?

And so he did. A whole new party, just to apologize to one guy.

Puck: ...And I'm really sorry if I hurt your feelings.

Mercutio: You hosted another party just for this? It's not that big of a deal, Puck. I'm honestly more upset that you invited Tybalt to this than I am about the kiss.

Tybalt: I'M THREE FEET AWAY FROM YOU, DUMBASS! I CAN HEAR YOU!

Puck: It's a formality. We invite at least one member from both families so none of you think we're taking sides. I've seen what Tybalt has done to the people who only align themselves with your family.

Tybalt: I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!

Mercutio: Yeah, that's fair. But in all seriousness, I'm not mad about the kiss. Sure it sucks that she didn't like me, but she chose you. I'm not going to break up our friendship over a Capp, even if it's someone cool like Hermia.

Puck: Thanks, Mercutio.

Romeo: ...Puck, I think you should've just invited Hermia and Mercutio instead of having an "all-boys party" just to have this conversation.

Tybalt: For once, I actually agree with Romeo.

Romeo: Nobody asked!

Tybalt: I'M LITERALLY ON YOUR SIDE YOU PIECE OF-

The party was a success...for Puck. As for Tybalt, he was just angry. Angrier than usual, and he needed some way to release it. But Juliette wouldn't listen to him and Consort was at work, so that left only one person.

Tybalt: And then that fucker had the audacity to talk shit about me the entire time!

Hermia: (Where the hell is Grandpa when you need him?) Okay? Why do you care so much about what Mercutio thinks of you?

Tybalt: Stop making this weird!

Hermia: I mean, you bring him up every time we talk. It feels like you constantly think about him.

Tybalt: I do!

Hermia: ...

Tybalt: ...I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!

Hermia: Sure...whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.

And here lies the surviving sisters of the Capp family, one with many children and the other with none. But the two have something in common...

Goneril: I can't stop thinking about Bianca...

Regan: I hate her stupid glasses and her pretty face...

Goneril: I hate her stupid soft hair and lips...GAH! Why do I keep thinking about her?

Regan: She's a Monty! I can't be thinking about a Monty this way!

Goneril: I need to focus on my family!

Regan: And my job!

Goneril/Regan: And also, I'm married!

Kent: Regan, are you okay?

Regan: Kent, not right now. I'm having a crisis.

Kent: Okay, geez...

Kent: So yeah, Cornwall is insufferable. I'm thinking of moving out soon, but I don't know if I have enough money to live on my own.

Bianca: Do you want to be roommates?

Kent: Would that be weird? I'm a Capp and you're a Monty.

Bianca: Oh, I'm not worried about that! I've stopped caring about my family thinks a long time ago. And you should, too.

Kent: Well, alright! I'll see you soon.

*beep*

Antonio: Bianca, who were you talking to?

Bianca: Kent.

Antonio: That Capp guy? I told you to drop him a long time ago.

Bianca: You still care about the feud?

Antonio: Of course I did! They murdered my wife!

Bianca: And you're sure it's them, and not someone else?

Antonio: Who else would've done it?

And lying near the river that separates the Capps and Montys, lies two peculiar forces...

???: Have you found anyone worthy from the other towns?

???: There's one person. His name is Tank Grunt, from Strangetown. He's physically strong and appears noble.

???: I see. He should have no problem handling the fights in Veronaville. Will he cooperate, though?

???: I believe so. Who wouldn't want the chance to be a hero? The one who defies the fates set up by the Watcher and forges their own path?

???: I suppose you're right. Let's bring him here tomorrow...

THE NEXT PAGE

[cookie-dog-69]

my running Bigfoot theory

for context: I've been a Bigfoot believer since I was a very young child, and I’m also a paleobiologist with an additional degree in primatology  I’ve been not sleeping well lately and don’t quite have enough caffeine in me to really make this as professional and fantastic as it could be, so just assume everything from here-on out is a rough amalgamation of my ideas, and that I frequently will use gross generalizations and the like throughout the writing of this piece.  I believe that the Bigfoots are closest related to the modern-day Pongo apes, ie Orangutans, and I believe this because of their behavior. They appear to be distinctly solitary (in contrast to all other great apes EXCEPT for Orangutans), they prefer densely forested areas (pretty common tbh), they appear to have no interest in hunting large(ish) game and/or hunting humans, though they sometimes bother us (in contrast to chimpanzees who have a habit of eating human children on occasion as well as comparatively large game), and they appear to travel rather often (in contrast to Gorillas and Chimpanzees, who appear to like to stay in specific territorial areas and just move within them, and these areas are usually smaller than those of Orangutans) But the descriptions of Bigfoot (the ones I trust, that is) don’t add up to be simply an Orangutan, not to mention their location (when I say Bigfoot, I mean the creature found in the American northwest, Appalachian mountains, and eastern American coast) Most of the sightings I've factored into this analysis, with the exception of my own encounter in the Appalachian mountains and the Skunk Apes of Florida, have the same similar characteristics: Darker fur, often dark brown or almost black, long arms, human-like proportions, tall height, very vocal. The very vocal does sound like Orangutans, but everything else doesn’t Here’s my theory: Around 11-12 million years ago, a curious little ape fellow, whose name means “woods spirit ape”, turned up in the fossil record. This little fellow, this silly boy, was named Dryopithecus. He lived in western and northwestern Europe and, for a long time, was thought to be the ancestor of apes and modern humans.  However, more recent research proves that he is just a little later than that - just after that, and is the earliest known semi-direct ancestor to the Orangutans and their cousins, such as Gigantopithecus, the often-referenced relative of the Orangutans who grew to enormous sizes (though these sizes are often exaggerated in media coverage to absurd scales).  Two possibilities come from this: one of them says that the Bigfoots are descendants of a unique, undiscovered line of Great Apes, starting with an offshoot from the line that would become Orangutans either with Dryopithecus or some other ape shortly thereafter as the starter, while the other points to another one of Dryopithecus’s relatives, Sivapithecus.  Sivapithecus showed up a few million years later, and showed a number of interesting features: a baboon-like face, an increased overall size, and a more orangutan-like design overall.  It is theorized that Sivapithecus, more so than Dryopithecus, is directly related to the following apes: Orangutans, Gigantopithecus, and other great apes I cannot recall the name of.  That 2nd option suggests that, instead of Sivapithecus splitting off into the two known species, Orangutans (still around today, though barely) and Gigantopithecus (discovered through a seldom few molar and finger bones that were saved from being used in Chinese traditional medicine, where most of the fossils had likely been destroyed), they split off into three - Orangutans, Gigantopithecus, and the Bigfoots.  There are differences to each theory, and which one I prefer changes depending on my mood and it will change even more as new evidence gets released.  It is possible that both are true in some way - the Appalachian Bigfoot (such as the one I had an encounter with, which appeared to be at least semi-arboreal, however I’ll have to dedicate a separate post to this topic) and Floridian Skunk Ape, alongside the possible Orang-Pendek, are the descendants of a 3rd line from Sivapithecus - similar to Orangutans and Gigantopithecus, but in-between the sizes of those individuals and inhabiting more southern/equatorial lands, now being found only in Indonesia and the southeastern United States. On top of this, the Northeastern and Northwestern Bigfoots, alongside the Canadian Sasquatches and the Himalayan Yeti, are descended from an ancient, previously undiscovered group of great apes descended from Dryopithecus.  Now, I know that all sounds preposterous - how could there be a whole undiscovered family/genus/etc of great apes and western science not know? let alone two??? Well remember how we only know of Gigantopithecus from some teeth and finger bones because, presumably, the others were destroyed in traditional, medicinal practices? It is almost certainly possible that other fossils were lost to this same fate - it is known that the Denisovan populations are most well documented in the human genome, especially compared to our fossil records. This is likely because of destruction in traditional medicine.  But what about the descendants of Sivapithecus and/or the American apes?? How have they not been found? As someone of Native American/Indigenous descent, I’m bittersweet in the soul to tell you that it is entirely possible that they haven’t been found only because our ancestral lands, where such sacred artifacts would have been preserved, were destroyed by the arrival of the colonists. Additionally, there are countless Indigenous legends speaking of human-like creatures off in the woods - the wendigo, skinwalkers, dogmen, they’re all interpretations of what could’ve been potentially the same creature, just put through the fantasy and cultural storytellings of the culture that interacted with it.  And listen, if one can believe that the story of the Minotaur referenced the labyrinthine halls in the Palace of Knossos, since lost to time after the end of the Minoan days, whose to say that the ancestral tales of Native American folklore didn’t and doesn’t referenced a great ape, roaming the forest lands, smart enough to know to hide from their biggest threat: us. 

[girlinthespecialeconomiczone]

the box itself is an afterthought, cuban cigar label describes its intended contents and yellowing paper blend cardboard is easy, yields itself to open and close, the opposite of a lock. The real contents, at first glance: a piece of bright green cardstock with "Good Job Y" inscribed in a child's handwriting, a chanel lipstick, several ziplock bags containing a single tooth each, some accompanied by more paper with child's handwriting, an altoids tin sharpied with the words "Mia's Hair," 5-10 loose teeth, skittering across the bottom of the box like rocks in the surf or compact, frightened arachnids. At second glance, several christmas wishlists belonging to child, the chanel lipstick is in fact a travel-size perfume, the altoid tin does contain my hair, two almost identical notes written on separate occasions expressing love for my mother -child handwriting- then what appears to be some kind of personal ad, small pink and rectangular, reading: 

"YOUR STORY/ HAS TOUCHED MY HEART / NEVER BEFORE HAVE I MET ANYONE WITH / MORE, TROUBLES THAN YOU HAVE. PLEASE / ACCEPT THIS EXPRESSION OF MY SINCERE/ SYMPATHY. 

NOW FUCK OFF AND QUIT BOTHERING ME."

then several newspaper clippings, including an obituary for someone with my father's full name, they were born within a few years of each other and he died just a county over. 

A dilbert strip about getting catfished by a supermodel.

Then, a headline that reads "Police: Wife ran down husband with vehicle," and goes on about how after he looked at another woman during church service it took her three tries until she "succeeded" to run him over with a car 

A Simpsons-themed daily calendar page:

"Apu: Is it me or do your plans always involve some horrible web of lies? 

Homer: It's you."

This is less a revelation about the nature of my childhood and moreso laughing @ my mom's freakish way of memorializing it. Maybe I am pretending to not care that my mother wanted to kill my father. What would it have meant for me to uncover these items in a different order? What does it mean that I had to peel back layers of my own corporeal detritus to find my mother's homicidal fantasies? what kind of armament is a baby tooth, a lock of hair?

i spend the day looking at memory boxes, and have the same problem i always have - i forget what belongs to my mom and what belongs to me. we go back and forth, and try to remember the origin of things, smug when we convince each other the thing was actually ours to begin with. i do this with my sister, too, and when i invoke the hypothetical child i might eventually have and want to pass my clothes onto, she says indignantly "i am your child"

later, alone, i go to my mom's memory boxes, again with the problem - i can't remember which necklaces she beaded, i can't decide whether i can take confidently take credit for my precocious aesthetic sensibilities or whether she was picking the beads out, placing them in my hands, placing my hands on the wire, i go through boxes and boxes of jewelry like this, like i might find an answer. i find the murder box instead. 

Years ago I wrote a list of things which were "not actually mine but my mother's": dead friends, Mao's little red book, the bedroom closet, beer cans, baby teeth, phone voice, mopping floor on hands and knees, phd program, stalkers. I'm wearing all the jewelry pilfered from my mom's jewelry boxes this last visit home, watching true blood and drinking rum straight out the bottle (not my first choice, it was leftover from a party), and thinking about how in her drinking days, my mom probably also liked to sit herself in front of the tv and cry. Many people don't get to have families. With my mom there is a kind of cannibalistic sameness that actually, while to most people it appears like an ideal "home," is placeless, not actually mine but etc

perhaps this can explain my recent interest in my father's side of things, there is little to no inherent risk that i might find myself collapsed under my fathers particularities and interests, as our relationship is primarily defined by my sense of alienation. Through him and his parents I can construct something of a history, a "why" I am the way I am. Close but not too close, like when someone takes a picture of you you can barely recognize. Me and my mom used to joke that I was born asexually or through divination, a simple reproduction of her

There is of course a long lineage of crazy ass white girls, of bougie white women who choose to be addicts, or bad mothers, or writers, or waitresses, or communists. In 2015, my mom commented a picture of Patty Hearst with an automatic rifle on my facebook profile picture, and I learned who she was. I haven't been in therapy for six months but if I was, I would ask my therapist if she believed my mom wanted me to find the murder box 

[guzsdaily]

Stopping the domino effect

Day 1 - Nov 06, 12.023

Well, I think it is the first time I am starting something without a burst of motivation or inspiration out of nowhere. This is day 1 of hopefully what will be a series of notes, posts, whatever it ends up being public or not, that you can call a daily journal or blog. I wouldn't expect too much to be honest, just writing some concepts or thoughts in something more structured like a blog post sometimes helps you to better understand yourself and what you're doing with your life, I think.

I have to give some credits also to Hunter Peterson, which recently started making daily vlogs of his process of creating a movie, and it inspired me to make this. Not only that, but I actually tried recording a video blog of my own, which for me is kinda difficult and/or consumes a lot of time of my day. So this is the "minimal viable product or way" to do something daily.

---

This is being written after what is probably two months of pure... nothing, mostly. Two months ago, I was coding a project which I thought would last no more than a week or so - at least the minimal viable product wouldn't take that long, right? - And there I was after a month of working from probably what as from 8am to 8pm daily, in a project which was losing its meaning and purpose. And if you're a developer and are wondering what project it was, it was a fucking ESLint config package, with some CLI for automatically detecting what configs to apply. Because of it, I ended up having what I would call a burnout.

I didn't want to write any code for some time, I wasn't able to correctly think of solutions to problems and was just tired of coding every day without doing anything more. So I gave myself a week of resting - yes, I know that it is a lot of time to rest, but at the time of writing, I am self-employed, or at least I was trying to be and balancing work, life, health, etc. is a lot more difficult than I thought. - And then the domino effect started.

The first domino piece

For context: In a week, I'm going to be 19 years old at the time of writing, and finished school/college last year. This year I tried to go a self-employed route with creating apps and open-source projects, it didn't work so much.

I have anxiety and insecurity, and even not being at a high level and going to therapy on a somewhat consistent rate, it still affects my life on a significant level. And is a lot harder to rest when your mind simply does not stop thinking about things and worrying yourself.

In said week of resting, I started to think and worry a lot about my future. Things such as: It is almost ending the year, and you made nothing and not a single dollar; you're consuming your parents' money, they already spent a lot of time and money in you; You need to start doing something to be able to have an apartment soon; Your girlfriend soon also leaves school, you need to have a house until then; If you don't have any finished projects, how you will find a job? You don't have a degree; You need to start doing something!

I don't have to say that it is kinda hard to actually rest in this situation. And unfortunately it also affected my girlfriend was trying to help me how she could to make me worry less and be able to rest. With that one week ended up being two, three weeks without returning to my normal routine. Thankfully, I wasn't having anxiety or insecurity attacks anymore, but was still felling somewhat tired and having excuses or simply being unable to work after such days. And with our dating anniversary coming, I had to make something special to thank her, so another week passed.

Being lost and the illusion of being comfortable

So what was I doing instead in this period? To be honest with you, it's not easy to answer this. Normally I note everything that is done daily, but in these days Obisdian (my note-taking app) wasn't even opened. I was trying to draw sometimes, without a lot of success; Creating some resourcepacks and modpacks to use in Minecraft; Seeing a lot of videos daily, at the point that I re-watched some of them; And probably just playing video games or trying to. And even if it was just it, I wouldn't be so bad about it, most of them are hobbies that I like to do, but being clear with myself, I was most of the time actually tinkering with configs or trying to find something to do. Instead of drawing I was trying to fix my tablet compatibility with linux; Instead of playing Minecraft and creating art, I was creating things that I ended up not using; Instead of watching some new videos, I was re-watching old ones trying to find something interesting; Instead of playing video games and making progress, I was playing everything in "creative mode" without any actual creative mode; I was tinkering to make a game work in linux, and ended up never playing it.

Seeing now, I was lost and trying to find some type of purpose or something to create.

And the worst part, it wasn't obvious, for me, I was resting. I knew that I needed to do something soon, but wasn't actually pushing myself to do something, and why be so hard on myself, I was at least creating other more creative things, right? Having an illusion of being comfortable is not good when you look in retrospect.

Trying to break the domino line

After what was probably six or seven weeks, a similar anxiety and a feeling of "enough" started to happen. It is difficult to explain, but in the same way I started to feel tired of working on that ESLint config project, I started to have now related to this comfortable state. While I was always thinking that I needed to return to a routine, now every day I had the actual feeling of not knowing what to do and of not being able to start something.

As the days came closer to today, I started to do things to be outside this comfortable zone. With the influence of some videos, I had the idea of reinstalling my OS, wipe everything in my computer and start creating a workspace made for myself and myself only. If you know Linux and/or programming, you probably will know better what I'm talking about on this section. I started to use a tiling window manager (Hyprland), started to configure Neovim and Tmux to be more productive, and started to create a small system in bash which can switch what type of workspace, theme, etc. my OS is in with just a command in the terminal.

But it wasn't enough, because this motivation to create a workspace also started to burn somewhat easily, and I didn't have organized or listed what I wanted in this workspace. And I started to tinkering with my home server, again just trying to find something to do, but without success on what I was trying to tinker the workspace returned to be my focus.

But some domino pieces still were falling, like: not knowing what I wanted in Neovim; banging my head because of a misspelled letter in the configuration files; my girlfriend being sick, so I wanted to spend more time and attention with her; losing part of said files because I still don't know how to use Git correctly; Being "tired" and ending up having a small addiction in some games; And, even when I was going to write this post, I spelled my coffee over the table, which I almost ended up screaming of stress because of this "trigger".

Not knowing if the line will break

As you can see by the last section and this tittle, I'm not yet in the best of myself. The reason I started got my laptop out of nowhere to go on my house courtyard and wrote this post was because I needed somewhere to reflect on myself. I can't promise that it will continue, but this remembered me how good it is to write and tell a story, so I will try.

The future to me is still unclear, but probably finding a job would be good to me, having something that can force me to do something daily could help when I need to return to a routine. And have actual money at the end of the month would be excellent y'know. Finding communities would also improve reaching this goal, knowing how my job market is these years after the pandemic, networking can boost a lot, and having friends and people which I can actually discuss programming would be great.

I have to admit that finding an actual job wasn't in my plans so earlier, but self-employment is not working now days, and I can always try again in the future. I'm finally thinking what can be my objective in life to drive me to the future and help me focus every day, but that is probably a talk for tomorrow.

Like I said in a post some weeks ago, sometimes you don't need to return with an explosion behind you and sunglasses. Small pieces can affect a lot with enough time, for good or for bad. And hopefully, I'm placing good pieces now.

Today's artists & creative things

This is stolen from Hunter's vlogs, where he shares a book or album/music for the day, and it is cool, so why not?

Music: Instead of an album, I think it's best to recommend the artists itself today - Scatolove. - They are a Brazilian couple which my girlfriend recently recommended and I cannot stop listening. I can't easily explain what music style hey have, for me, it is sweet but also goes very hard in a lot of songs, it is unique but also similar enough to the music styles that I like, which is: if there's an electric guitar solo, I like it. My favorites of their songs would be: Rapunzel, the guitar at 0:30 really got me the first time I listened to it; Inbox and Terminal, both because they remember me and my girlfriend together, primarily Inbox is a favorite because of how hard it goes and feels.

Copyright (c) 2023-present Gustavo "Guz" L. de Mello \<contact.guz013@gmail.com>

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0) License

[hotwings0203]

The Middle Ground

*Deep breath*

Woo. Okay. First of all I would like to thank everyone for 400 freaking followers. That is seriously so insane to me, I mean I’ve only been on Tumblr for like half a year.

This piece is a contribution to @bakugosbratx ‘s collaboration. It has around 40k words in total, so it’s my longest piece yet. Because Tumblr formatting is shit, I have provided an Ao3 link in case you like the chapter setup better there. I hope you all enjoy, and please please heed the warnings ahead!

Pairing: Bully!Fiance!Touya x F reader

Summary: You've been friends with Tenko Shimura for as long as you can remember...but when you're forced into an arranged marriage with Dabi, that friendship is put to a test.

TW: Noncon, bullying, language, Dabi and Hawks are scumbags, gangbang, graphic depictions of violence, gang violence, arranged marriage

Tags: @hi--rubi @bakugosbratx

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31747549

Touya Todoroki kicks out his legs and slumps into the limo seat. A permanent scowl has inhabited his petulant expression, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by his glaring father and uncomfortable family. It isn’t like he wanted to be here anyway, what were they expecting? Especially when they were practically planning out his whole life’s demise right in front of his eyes.

 Think he’s being dramatic?

 Try putting yourself in his shoes for a second: after being hounded by his ape-like father to put some hair gel on and to ‘take out those fiendish piercings, you look like a hooligan,’ he was also forced into a suit that felt more like a straight jacket. Worst of all, he had to keep a straight posture.

 It was complete, utter torture for the young rogue.

 Only after stalking and lurking around his mother for the entire day did Touya have it revealed to him that the place he had to dress up like a prissy for was none other than the house of who he was going to be betrothed to.

 Once the bomb was dropped, all hell broke loose in the Todoroki house not like that was anything new, merely hours away from leaving to greet the parents-in-law.

 “Is this a fucking joke? You people weren’t even gonna tell me where we were going until I had to beg like a dog!” Touya raged with balled-up fists, smoke curling from his elbows and shins as he stood in his parents’ room and interrogated his mother.

 “Language, Touya!” An exasperated Rei Todoroki sighed while ironing her and Fuyumi’s dresses. “You’re of age to get married, and you’re an adult now- you knew this was bound to happen soon.”

 “Come on, Touya, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll like her; her family is really well known in hero society for hosting the annual hero galas.” Fuyumi leaned against the doorframe behind her irate brother with her arms crossed, peering disappointedly at him from over the bridge of her glasses. “I’m pretty sure her parents even work in the Hero Commission headquarters, and as for the girl, I’ve heard so many good things about her from-”

 “I don’t give a damn about some elitist brat who I’m gonna have to coddle. And I’m still in school, I’m not licensed yet.” Touya snapped at both the women, Fuyumi rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walked away. Rei let out another heavy sigh and finished up her meticulous ironing.

 “I just don’t understand why in the hell you’d tell me on the day of us meeting them, like why couldn’t I have a heads up?”

“Because then we’d have to put up with your little tantrums even more in advance. Plus, it's not like us telling you earlier would’ve changed the decision or your reaction,” Natsuo called out from his room across the hall.

 “You know, she’s not some random gold digger. I’m fairly certain her family is more wealthy than us, and by uniting our families, we’ll both have many advantages in society and for a healthy bloodline-”

 But Shoto’s chiming in was cut off with the sound of choking from Natsuo drinking something at his last words. Touya didn’t appreciate his least favorite sibling’s unwanted opinion, especially when it was about the topic of banging some prissy chick.

 He let Shoto know what he thought of his comment by whipping around with a snarl and towering over the youngest Todoroki.

 Well, not really towering since Shoto was quickly catching up to Touya in terms of height, a fact that Touya loathed admitting.

 “You-” he jabbed a finger into the other’s firm chest, “-are the last person I wanna hear sex advice from, got it? I doubt a social degenerate like you would even get pussy anyways from the way you can barely understand a joke or social cues.” (“What did I say about language, Touya!”)

 Natsuo was positively howling now, and Shoto merely shrugged his brother’s scarred finger off as Touya kept advancing on him and spitting venom. Rei was desperately trying to quell the disaster waiting to happen by raising her voice slightly and telling all her boys to back off and calm down, but she was cut off by Fuyumi calling out to ask for her dress.

 “ENOUGH!” 

 All the other Todorokis simultaneously jumped when they heard his booming voice. Enji Todoroki appeared in front of his family, no doubt growing increasingly irritated by the pandemonium happening. He glared around at them all until his eyes landed on Touya, who grew quiet but still held a scowl on his face. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed as he approached his heir, and Touya subconsciously straightened up taller.

 “You can’t make me do this. We’ve never had one single conversation about the topic of marriage, and you think I’m just gonna give in on the night you planned to make me into some domestic schmuck? Were you even going to tell me yourself before we left?” Touya growled, maintaining eye contact with his brutish father.

 “You’ll do as I say, Touya. Your duty comes to your family before any wish of becoming a hero. You need to stop acting like a delinquent, and a wife would do some good to tether you to reality-”

 “Oh, right, because you’d know all about how to be good to a family, right?” Touya burst out as he sneered and gestured to the scars littering his body.

 Even Natsuo had stopped snickering as the house grew deathly quiet. Fuyumi sucked in a soft inhale, Shoto simply stared while observing the spectacle in front of him, and Rei was stock-still.

 Endeavor didn’t back down from his son’s impertinence, however. Instead, he stepped forward until both men were chest-to-chest and looked at Touya straight into his face, purposely neglecting to ponder on the way his son’s lip trembled and his eyes twitched as if he wanted to rub them. He knew if he saw Touya as the pouty seven year old he once was and loved, he would give in.

 “You will do what I ask. Do not embarrass our family or me.”

 Touya’s jaw clenched as he tried to stare his father down, but after a couple of painstakingly long moments he finally looked away. Everyone let out their breaths and started to get their coats. That was that.

 End of discussion.

 Unbeknownst to him, however, he wasn’t the only one who had been saddled with this news recently.

 Your parents might not have told you on the day of said guests coming over, but you weren’t given an option to argue either.

 In fact, you were told so casually over dinner a few weeks ago that one would think you were the crazy one for “overreacting,” in the exact words of your parents to be more specific.

 “Honey, you’re almost done with your hero licensing school. It's about time you start thinking of your future asides from your job and internships,” your mother had gestured to you as her delicate hands picked up a wine glass.

 “Dad, seriously?” You asked in disbelief, fork suspended in midair. “I haven’t even graduated yet, plus you promised when I was done I could intern with you at the headquarters-!”

 But your father merely hummed disinterestedly as if the topic of your very imminent future could do with less talking and more of shoveling roast beef into his mouth.

 You incredulously turn to your mom, hoping for some reprieve.

 “I don’t even know his name. Who is he, and why did you choose him anyway?” you grouch, pouting and pushing the casserole on your plate around.

 “His name is Touya Todoroki, and he’s merely a year or two older than you. I’m sure you’ve heard of his father, Endeavor. He’s the number two hero, and I believe his other two children are closer to your age...Natsuo and Fuyumi? Their youngest son is Shoto, you must have seen his performance at the sports festival a little while ago.”

 “T-Touya?” You almost choke on your asparagus when you hear his name. “Mom, I’ve seen him like, three times throughout the entirety of me being at that school. And I heard he’s a complete menace too! He’s got a reputation, him and his stupid friends. I know for a fact they’ve been giving Tenko a hard time for the past year for no reason.”

 You’re not lying either. You’ve seen the intimidating black-haired boy skulking around some of your classes with his cronies in tow. It wasn’t like he shirked off his grades or anything; you were fairly certain he was pretty smart...when he tried, that is. When he wasn’t ditching class and giving his teachers a hard time, you usually saw him push your best friend Tenko Shimura around. This included shoving the quiet boy down the stairs, clapping him over the head a little too hard to be passed off as friendly, and childishly throwing spitballs and other trash at the back of his head. Fortunately, you’d never had the pleasure of meeting his highness personally, and so far, you’d been secretly grateful for only picking up his binders and homework off the floor of Tenko’s aftermath attacks rather than bearing the full brunt of Touya’s abuse. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed, and to be frank, you’d like to keep it that way.

 However, it seemed as though your parents didn’t share the same sentiments.

 Your father finally decided to give his piece, which wasn’t in your favor, surprise surprise.

 “A sturdy family, they are. We’ve invited them for dinner two weeks from now, so you better curb that attitude of yours well before they arrive. Our decision is final.”

 You stay quiet, opting not to argue any further and upset your parents. To be honest, you weren’t known to be too rebellious or spoiled for that matter. You were a straightforward child- you got good grades, you didn’t trouble yourself or your parents with any drama or school nonsense, and you put up a good family name when in the presence of outsiders. To say that you and your parents were joined at the hip would be a bit of a stretch, though. You simply did what they asked, and they rewarded you with anything you wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s not like they forced you to do anything unreasonable except getting married to some degenerate, so you usually followed pursuit. 

 So, instead of causing a scene at the dinner table, you finish up your food, clear the table, and stomp upstairs in the sanctuary of your room. You flop on the bed, and just for good measure you pummel a pillow in front of you.

 This can’t be happening, you groan to yourself.

 After a couple of minutes of finishing your tantrum, you decide to call Tenko. He was definitely someone who’d share the same disdain for the name Touya Todoroki.

 You dial his number, and after a couple of rings he finally picked up.

 “Y/N? What’s up?”

 It takes less than 5 minutes for you to explain your ordeal, and he’s quiet for a few moments.

 “Tenko? You there?”

 “Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” he says slowly.

 “Well? What do you think?” You urge, needing him to reassure you you weren’t being unreasonable for not wanting an arranged marriage with some psycho delinquent, family name or not.

 “I mean, obviously it sucks ass, and I wouldn’t wanna get saddled with Tou-yuck as a fiance,” you giggle at the absurd nickname and he shares a low chuckle too. “But...I don’t know, I mean I kinda expected you to sound more upset about it.”

 “Don’t get me wrong, of course I'm pissed, man. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really argue my way out of this, and even if I did, it would be so awkward between our families since his dad and my parents work so closely at the HC. I don’t think there's any way to properly react to this,” you finish helplessly, biting your lip.

 “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to throw rose petals and rice at him when he shoves me into the lockers after school,” Tenko says dryly, and you can’t help but scoff.

 “As if. Y’know, maybe that actually is a silver lining in all this. If we get engaged or whatever during the school year he might just go easy on you if he knows we’re friends.”

 “Hmm yeah, maybe we’ll hold hands and throw each other picnics too while we’re at it!” You can practically hear his eye roll over the phone. “Speaking of prince charming, what are you gonna wear when they come?”

 Which brings you back to now.

 T-minus 30 minutes until the Todorokis make their appearance through your front door.

 As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, there was no mistaking the butterflies in your stomach. You had adorned a warm knee-length dress to match the snow outside yet still look cute, meticulously done your hair in an up-do with some strands framing your face and light makeup. Your goal wasn’t to impress anyone but rather show the best natural side of you so that if any part of you wasn’t satisfactory to what met the Todorokis’ eye, they could still back out.

 You stand in front of the mirror and tilt your head slightly, assessing yourself. You look straight at your reflection and practice your bow. After feeling confident in your preparation, you decide to send a quick picture of yourself to Tenko to get his opinion.

 6:40: Looks okay?

 Not even two minutes later as you’re lacing up your flats does his notification pop up on your screen, and you smile at his punctuality.

 Ten-ten: You look great.👍 Don’t freak out okay? It’s not like anyone’s opinion should matter, especially not Tou-yuck’s

 6:45: Ugh, you’re right. Idk why I feel like I’m gonna throw up

 6:46: Oh fuck I think I hear their car

 Wait oh my god it's a limo wtf??

 When your parents call you down to greet the guests, you toss your phone on the bed and hobble across the room to close your lights and door. You don’t see the three dots coming up and disappearing as Tenko Shimura deletes the message of ‘actually, you look beautiful’ after reading your answer.

 ***************

 You frantically straighten out your dress and wipe your sweaty palms on your knees as you stand behind your parents when they open the door.

 First comes in the big man himself, a towering build of brute force and a stoic aura surrounding his presence. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t look angry. Your father and Enji shake hands and clap each other on their backs as your family moves back to make space for the rest of the family to enter. A woman you assume to be Rei shakes off the snow from her shoes before stepping inside the threshold, and when you make eye contact and greet her she smiles demurely at you.

 It warms your heart, much to your chagrin.

 Then, all time seems to stop as you see his shadow step in before he does. Your heart skips a beat or two and the wind swirls around him, causing snowflakes to latch onto his figure and obscure his face for a moment. 

 But when he fully comes into view, it does nothing to calm your heart that seems to be slamming against your ribcage.

 The white snowflakes blend into his porcelain-colored hair, which sticks out in little tufts although you could’ve sworn he had black hair at school…?. Dark purple patches cover underneath his eyes and the lower half of his face, along with small staples that seem to hold the skin up. However, his eyes are what captivate you the most, a bright turquoise that scrutinizes you under the glare of fluorescent lights.

 You freeze like a deer in headlights, hesitating a fraction of a second before bowing hastily to make up for the pause. Touya scoffs slightly before barely tilting his head and averting his eyes to your mother, who is ushering the rest of the family inside to the living room. Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto follow after their eldest brother, all of them bowing more respectfully than the first sibling and giving you small smiles and waves.

 You trail behind to close the door, wanting to stall as long as possible before the inevitable bonding. As you turn from shutting the dark mahogany, you catch your dad’s eyes as he turns as well and you blanch obviously- needless to say, he isn’t amused and sends you a warning glare. 

 Taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to still your nerves, you walk as gracefully as you can to the living room, one foot in front of the other. As expected, when you cross into the area all light conversation stops as you reach a seat in one of the white leather loveseats. You can acutely feel Rei and Enji’s eyes especially trained on you as they observe their future daughter-in-law and her mannerisms. Luckily, your parents have given you years of practice in public events on how to act like the perfect little lady.

 Poised, calm, and collected, you recall the main attributes your parents had always said elders look for.

 “Y/N, was it? I believe you and Touya go to the same school?” Rei speaks up after you settle comfortably, and you can’t help but notice that although their family is known for ice cold or burning hot quirks, her voice reminds you of a good medium between the two; it sounds like springtime, a transition itself.

 You fidget uncomfortably before answering. “Yes ma'am, I think so. I might have seen him around the halls, and we may have had classes once or twice…” but you trail off as Touya coughs loudly, and rudely. He turns his head to look away from you not-so-subtly and the room temperature rises a few degrees as Endeavor’s mustache begins to flame. He glares at his son, but Touya stubbornly stares at the floor with an obvious scowl on his face.

 Well fuck you, too, you think as your smile begins to strain.

 Desperately, Fuyumi tries to fill in the silence by asking a follow up question.

 “Um, Y/N, what are you studying? Touya’s trying to get officially licensed at school so he can skip internships and just head straight to dad’s agency after he graduates.”

 “Well, since I don’t have a quirk I’m not doing any of the training courses, but my parents have some networks in the Hero Commision. Ultimately I decided to go into Department of Management and General Studies-”

 “Wait, you don’t have a quirk?” Touya surprisingly bursts out, eyes bulging out of their sockets. His voice is deep and grating, as if he spent his early days being a chainsmoker.

 “No, I don’t.” You say without missing a beat, increasingly getting a good feel of what type of person your fiance is and his possible superiority complex. “But as I was saying, even though I wasn’t born with a quirk I know I can succeed after my parents in aiding the Hero Commission and the annual galas. If I get licensed after graduation, I can kind of follow the same path as you in terms of skipping all the internships and stuff and get straight to work. Y’know, helping out in the foundations of future heroes is just as important as being an actual hero,” You say proudly as you stare straight at Touya.

 Your parents and a majority of the Todorokis nod in agreement, and the only one who doesn’t seem to share the same values as you rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath.

 After that nice little ice breaker and a couple of other meaningless conversations between the other siblings and you, your mother finally decides to call in for dinner.

 You breathe out a sigh of relief and stand, your dress riding up your thighs for a moment as you get up. Out of the corner of your eye you see Touya glance momentarily at your slightly exposed legs before sliding up your body and finally meeting your eyes. He catches you staring and gives you a knowing smirk. Your face lights on fire and you look around to make sure no one is watching before you flip him the bird.

 He actually laughs, and you grimace as the butterflies in your stomach come back to life and travel up your throat.

 Natsuo turns around curiously to see the source of his brother’s rare gravely laugh. When he sees you both emerging out of the room at the same time, he flashes you a lopsided grin, very much akin to his brother’s.

 You shake your head, trying to quell the rising smile on your face as you take a seat at the marble table. Everyone finds their own chair, and much to your surprise Touya takes one right across from you. Whether or not it's a coincidence, you don’t want to get your hopes up.

 Chatter resumes as both sets of parents talk about recent hero news and the missions funded by the headquarters. Shoto and Fuyumi ladle takoyaki and ramen into their bowls while Touya picks at the miniscule helping of the other assortments and kaiseki on his glass plate. You decide to wait until everyone has finished taking food until you start digging in just to be polite, a fact that Natsuo pipes up on.

 “You don’t have to wait for us to finish y’know, we’ll just end up keep waiting on each other out of guilt.” he says kindly.

 “Oh, no worries. I just wanted to make sure you guys took enough-” but you’re cut off for the second time that evening by the same person, and it takes every ounce of self restraint you have not to dump the ramen bowl on his white hair.

 “Yeah, I mean we already know you’re so uptight, no need to shove it in our faces,” Touya rumbles and Natsuo swats his arm as he glances at you apologetically.

 “Sorry about him, he’s got a warped sense of humor.”

 “It’s fine, I get it. Some people just think they’re better ‘cuz of unseen reasons,even with lame quirks,” you snipe and you hear Shoto subtly snort into his cup.

 Touya’s nostrils flare and his forearm erupts in light blue flames. Endeavor and your parents are staring at you both, and it's not just his flames that warms your face.

 But Fuyumi, along with her ice quirk, seems to know just how to cool everyone down again.

 “Y/N, have you ever helped your parents out in any of the HC events?” she takes your hand in hers, and even though you expect cold palms, all you feel radiating off of her is warmth. She seemed to be saying I’m sorry about him.

 So for the time being, you decid to grit your teeth and bear it. It’s not like your parents were even pretending to care about his shitty attitude either, so why should you give in any more?

 “Yes, I have actually. A couple of months ago my parents were the sponsors of the annual Hero Gala, and I was the one who sent out the invitations to all the heroes and ensured their attendance. I even got to invite Gran Torino!” You can’t help but say animatedly-no matter how juvenile your excitement is, being in contact with pro-heroes was always exhilarating and nerve-wrecking.

 Hench the massive pools of sweat gathering under your armpits.

 And finally the youngest speaks up.

 “So out of all the heroes you’ve talked to or helped, which one’s your favorite?”

 “Uhhh probably Midnight, she's just so badass...and I won’t lie, she's pretty hot too,” you blush and Natuso whoops at the flush in your cheeks. Fuyumi laughs and agrees wholeheartedly, and even Shoto lets out a small smile Touya continues to pick at his sashimi as if no one had spoken.

  You marveled at how at home the Todoroki siblings make you feel, even in your own house. They went well together, and fill in the gaps where the other lacked.

 Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the one you were destined to marry.

 Nevertheless, the rest of the evening went by without any more mishaps or interruptions, thankfully. You and Rei had a couple of conversations too, about school and winter and what you liked to do in your free time. Even Enji spared a minute, but it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was just a gruff ‘I hear from your father that you’re doing well in school. I might hire you at my agency if you surpass the other students’, and a meek ‘yessir, I’ll try my hardest’ from you. 

 When it was time to leave, you hugged Fuyumi and shook Natuso and Shoto’s hands along with giving proper bows to Rei and Enji. Only Touya was left, and you’d be damned if you made the first move of civility towards him. You settled for a little bow, peering up at him through your lashes. He mimicked the same motion he did when he first entered, a pathetic little head tilt that you assumed to be the world's worst impersonation of a bow. 

 But his eyes never left yours, and you couldn’t decipher the unreadable emotion swirling in his blue orbs as he watched your figure bend and lift again. Whatever it was, it didn’t exactly scream proper from the way he allowed his gaze to drop to your chest and thighs not-so-subtly. You shot him a glare and he met you with a sneer before whirling around to bid farewell to your parents.

 When the door finally shuts, your parents let out a sigh of relief and turn to you.

 “Well, what did you think? Wasn’t their family darling? Oh and Touya was so easy on the eyes too, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting along with each other,” Your mother babbles incessantly, completely oblivious to you gawking at her.

 Is she serious? He acted like a total douche to me all night!

 “I agree with your mother. He seems like a solid young man and I know for a fact he’ll make a great husband. Now, Enji gave me Touya’s number and I gave him yours, so you should expect a text from Touya soon. It’s just a formality to overcome, and in addition I want you to let him know we were glad to host him and his family.” Your dad raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you groan, slapping a hand to your face.

 “Okay sure, whatever.” Your dad pulls out his phone and you watch glumly as he texts the number to you.

 “I’ll text him later, ‘gotta talk to Ten first,” you mutter as you begin bounding up the stairs.

 “No Y/N, you’ll do it now. Otherwise, no talking to Tenko. You need to start putting your fiance first instead of any other man.”

 You grit your teeth to prevent screaming and make a show of spinning on your heel to face your dad. Smashing your thumbs against the screen, you tap out a curt ‘Hey, this is Y/N. I got your number from my dad, just wanted to say thanks for coming over tonight.’

 Oh yeah. Tenko better not have any plans tonight, ‘cuz boy is he gonna get an earful of this evening’s events.

 *********

 Ping

 Touya’s phone buzzes in his hand, and the screen lights up the dark interior of the limo. He squints at the notification, and after seeing your name he scoffs disbelievingly.

 “Is it her?” Fuyumi asks excitedly.

 “Jesus, keep your fucking voice down, are you trying to announce it to mom?” Touya hisses, and rolls his eyes at his sister’s pout.

 All his siblings start clamoring over their seatbelts and each other’s shoes as they try to grab his phone to read the message he received, and it's all Touya can do to curse and ward them off by waving an inflamed arm towards their outreached grubby hands (thankfully Fuyumi easily distinguished his flames with a flick of her wrist, with a rather annoyed look on her face).

 By the time the Todorokis reach their house it's late and everyone stumbles inside, eager for warmth and a good shower. 

 But not Touya. 

 As soon as the limo is parked he slips off the driveway and trudges off the stone path to his own destination, quickly shooting his friend a text.

 “Touya?” he hears his brother calling to him from the lit up path of the driveway. “You comin’ or what?”

 “No, I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell them I went to sleep early or something, and don’t let anyone in my room while I’m gone,” Touya mutters.

 Natsuo wrinkles his nose and stuffs his hands in his pockets, countering the defensive look the latter was giving.

 “...bring me back a cig?”

 “Hell no, go the fuck inside, its freezing out here.” Touya snickers, and both boys laugh before heading off in their own ways.

 It takes Touya approximately 15 minutes to slink in and out of the shadows to reach the abandoned bar that resides outside the main city. He kicks a broken beer bottle out of the entrance and checks in the dark for a lack of presence before reaching behind the bar counter and fishing around the platform for-

 Bingo

 He omits a tiny blue spark out of his index finger as he slides into a barstool and lights the cigarette. Taking a long drag of the substance, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes as he exhales the fumes into the empty darkness.

 “Goddamn, just ‘cuz you’re immune to fire doesn’t mean we all are Touya,” a suave voice emerges from behind the counter.

 Not so empty after all, then.

 A dim light switches on and Touya squints to locate the source of the familiar sound. Red fills his vision as his friend’s wings spread, and he zooms in on the roguishly handsome face belonging to Keigo Takami.

 AKA Hawks.

 The blond makes an obnoxious show of coughing and waving the smoke away, and Touya merely takes another long puff just to blow it into Keigo’s face again.

 “So, how’d it go?” He asks, using his wings to wave the offensive fumes away from his pretty face.

 Touya shrugs and folds his arms on the counter, letting his head nestle on the cool granite. He closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of questions that was bound to come his way any minute.

 “Oh come on, don’t give me that bull, man. She can’t have been that bad right?”

“Her parents work for the HC. Maybe you should marry her instead,” Dabi shoots his friend a dark look and Keigo raises his hands in a guilty gesture. It was no secret that aside from their incognito vandalism and delinquency, the winged boy had plans to become a great hero at the heart of the HC itself.

 “Yeah well, regardless of who seals the deal, either way that’s another good, ah, network for me to know.” He snickers and Touya lazily thrusts a flaming hand at his head, which Keigo easily dodges.

 “This is serious man. I don’t wanna be some fucking homebody and raise a bunch of little shits along with having some bitch up my ass all the time.”

 “Is she hot at least?” Keigo presses, and Touya feels his eye twitch as his patience wears thinner by each word coming out of his mouth.

 “The fuck’s that got to do with any-? I mean, she was alright I guess, not too hard on the eyes…” he thinks for a moment before admitting, “she had sexy thighs, that's for sure. And an okay body overall.”

 Keigo whoops and claps Touya on the back, both of them grinning like madmen now.

 “That’s what I’m talking about, see now you’re getting the idea.”

 “And what’s that?” Touya turns to him fully now, intrigued as to how this could be for his benefit.

 “Look, you said she’s not too bad right? So that basically means you got full ownership of some hot chick, and you get to have full access to any records or information you want if she’s joined to the hip with some HC pawns.” The avian’s gold eyes flash and narrow as he thinks it over more.

 “This is a win win for you either way, and hey, if you make the missus your little bitch then maybe I get to reap some rewards too, huh?” He elbows Touya playfully.

 “Yeah...yeah that’s not a bad way of looking at it now that you mention it,” Keigo can practically see the gears turning in his friend’s head as he whips out his own phone.

 “What was her name again by the way? I just wanna see my dear sister-in-laws’ thighs myself,” He sneers as Touya quirks up the corners of his lip.

 “F/N? F/N L/N I think. God, she even texted me like, 10 minutes after we left. So fucking desperate,” Touya chuckles as he shows Keigo the message you sent.

 The blond’s wings ruffle behind him as he glances at Touya’s phone before thumbing through his own, checking each social media platform for any of your accounts. After a couple of seconds his eyes widen and he positively leers at the screen before shoving the device in the latter’s face.

 “Holy shit, I know this girl! Dude, you do too, we had like three classes with her before. I’m pretty sure she runs around with Rumi too. She’s uber smart, you had me thinking she’s some bimbo bitch, man. Oh, and she’s friends with Tenko by the way, just a lil’ heads up.”

 At the mention of the scrawny boy’s name, Touya snatches the phone from Keigo’s fingers and holds it mere inches away from his eyes so he could scan every part of you.

 “Tenko? Tenko Shimura? No fucking way, that guy’s a total tool. The hell is she doing hanging out with him?”

 “No idea, but I mean I’ve seen her hanging out with some other girls in the general department, so it’s not like she only knows him. Why, you’re not getting all protective and hubby-like on her already, right?” Keigo says slyly, thoroughly drinking in the way Touya’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches at such a blasphemic notion. It was so much fun to rile him up and not have to deal with the aftermath of his brash actions.

 “Fuck no. I just don’t want to be associated with a bitch who hangs around with pussies all day.”

 “Mm, yeah, I don’t think I could fuck with you either if he became some kind of sister-wife to you.”

 ********

Winter started to seep into spring, the transition being made evident by the arrival of cherry blossom trees blooming across the campus. New clothes were bought, markers and highlighters upgraded to reflect the new bright outside weather, and the students themselves were giddy to see each other after their winter break.

 You donned your white school uniform and fixed your tie in the mirror, opting to leave your hair down for the first day back.

 Ping

 Your phone’s screen lit up from the bed, and you grabbed it while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Ten-ten: I’m outside, bring me a bagel if you can. Dad was being an asshole so I skipped breakfast

 8:20: Gotcha, I’ll be out in 5

 Thundering downstairs, you absentmindedly noted your parents’ absence as usual, your pre-made breakfast on the table (courtesy of the MIA mother and father).

 Making a quick scan as to what you could quickly scarf down and what you could bring for Tenko, you decided to drink a glass of orange juice and bring a yogurt for yourself, as well as a large cinnamon bagel and a banana for him.

 Opening your front door always brought in the multicolored rays of the horizon that was one of your sole motivations of waking up early. You weren’t disappointed as you stepped onto your porch and breathed in the crisp morning air, the sakura leaves falling softly onto the ground. Pink and purple stripes fanned across the sky, the trees gently swaying with the breeze. At the end of your driveway stood your lanky best friend, his sickly green and grey skin standing out almost offensively against the beautiful morning scene. His long, spindly fingers raised up and wiggled slightly in a poor imitation of a wave as he saw you coming towards him. His school uniform looked a tad bit too big on his thin, frail bones that were scarcely covered by stretched out, scratched-beyond-belief skin. His indicolite hair fell across his face in scraggly waves, effectively covering his vermillion, beady eyes.

 You had never been so comforted by anyone else’s sight before.

 As you reached him, you tossed him the large bagel and he helped your overbearing food load by taking the banana stem from your teeth and holding it in his own large hands, one pinky outstretched.

 “You ready to go back?” You asked as you both began walking towards your school, which was a mere 15 minutes away from your house.

 “Hell no,” he scoffed before tearing a large chunk out of the bagel. “Mmfh, thanks for the bagel-”

 “-don’t talk with your mouth full-”

 “-but nah, I’m not ready for Vlad King’s excessive droning about HC paperwork. ``Stuff's a bore honestly, I wanna take more actual work studies time out.”

 “Oh yeah, you were saying earlier that your dad was gonna let you work with him at his business, right?”

 “Yeah he did. But, to be honest, I don’t really know what's worse- Vlad’s lectures or my dads’.”

 You swat his arm with a disapproving look as he laughs at your disdain.

 “Ten, he loves you okay?” You begin softly as you furrow your brows and look at the ground in contemplation. “He just...doesn’t know how to show you. He’s just scared you’ll end up like your grandm-”

 “Yeah okay, okay, I get it!” He yelps uncomfortably. Hearing any praise or defense for his father always put him in a tough spot since he didn’t want to accept the very hard fact that his dad did in fact love him-even if it was shown in weird ways.

 The two of you eventually reached the grand school, the front blue and golden themes coming into view as you rounded the corner and walked through the gates of the campus. 

 It was a nice sight to see everyone again; kids younger and older than you laughing and shoving friends around, students sitting on the school walls, and teachers lounging around the classes with the occasional “Get to class!”

 Tenko and you walk through the halls, navigating the way to your new classes and assessing each other’s schedules when you hear, “Hey, Y/N!”

 You turn and see some of your other friends, Rumi Mirko, Moe Kamiji, and Yu Takeyama approaching you with grins on their faces.

 Mirko waves her own peach colored schedule in her hand as she says, “Alright L/N, hand it over- I need to see which hunks you got in your classes.”

 You smirk before giving your own witty reply. “Apart from you? I think the bar’s been set too high, hun.”

 You playfully tug one of her ears and she squeals before chasing you in circles around your small group. Your jerky running causes Kamiji to bump into Tenko’s slender frame, and he lets out a little “oof!” before wincing and rubbing his sore arm.

 “Ohmygod, I’m so sorry Tenko!”

 “No worries, it’s cool.”

 “Hey, Tenko, I wanna see your schedule for a sec’,” Takeyama says slyly, fluttering her lashes at him before snatching his paper. “‘Gotta see if I got lucky this semester to finally have such a cutie like you in one of my classes,” She feigns a swoon at the poor boy, his face growing a violent shade of red as he commences his hemming and hawing. 

 “No she’s actually right though! I wanna see which classes I have to put in extra effort in not to fail if I’m ogling at this absolute sex god for the entirety of the period,” Mirko stops chasing you long enough to peer over Takeyama’s shoulder at his paper, and Tenko finally gives in his self restraint in a moment of vigorous neck-scratching relief.

 You shake your head in disbelief before absentmindedly pulling his hand away from his suffering neck, and Tenko doesn’t make a move to stop you.

 “Okay, enough already, leave this poor ‘sex god’ alone, your guys’s cleavage is gonna send him into cardiac arrest alone without the horny dialogue.” You say exasperatedly, and the victim himself flashes you a grateful look out of the corner of his eye.

 All three girls give you both nasty grins before making a fake show of ripping open each other's shirt buttons and feeling their sides up with lewd moans.

 Just to play along and to spare Tenko’s sputtering and massively sweating self the embarrassment, you cover his eyes with a hand and shoot the girls a dirty yet humorous look.

 “Alright then, miss high and mighty, were you lucky enough to have your homeroom with Cupid over here?” Mirko asks, Kamiji and Takeyama nodding eagerly behind her.

 “I was, actually. Did you get anyone worth the look?” You say, beaming at a very sweaty Tenko.

 “No,” She pouted, her large ears dropping visibly. “But I really wish I could’ve gotten…” and she trails off as her focus narrows on something behind her, her nose twitching in excitement as her face morphs into a sultry expression. You, along with everyone else, turn to see what captured Mirko’s attention.

 “Speak of the devil,” she mutters, nudging you and the other entranced girls.

 And there he is in all his glory. One of the school’s most notorious playboys, Hawks himself-he spots your little reunion, and saunters his way past the sea of kids who part their way to make room for his highness. His blond hair glows in the early morning light, reflecting the golden and brown streaks that embed themselves through his locks. His teeth gleam a blinding white as he smiles at Mirko, coming up behind her (to her utter satisfaction).

 But it's not Hawks that makes your heart pound.

 It's his black haired buddy that you became betrothed to not too long ago that makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive again.

 He has a bored, brooding look on his face as him and Hawks approach your group. His hands are in his pockets and his body language is so sluggish and lazy that you’d think he has a million other places to be at 8:45 in the morning. In fact, the only indication you get that he sees you is when his icy eyes flit over to yours or rather, your body, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

 I wonder if his family knows he dyes his hair at school? Or, when does he actually have the time to do that?

You snap your focus away from him, saving yourself the embarrassment of gawking at him before looking at the spectacle Hawks and Mirko were proudly showing off.

 He circled his arms around her shoulders and neck, resting his head against her soft skin. She giggles and swats his other straying hand away from underneath her skirt while the rest of you roll your eyes in disgust as Mirko croons, “I didn’t hear back from you for a while, you had me worried for a moment there hot stuff.”

 Hawks’s velvety words cut through the air like butter, his voice dropping a few octaves when he chuckles into her neck.

 “Sorry about that babe, ‘was training pretty hard for some time, got distracted and all that. But you’re up for next weekend, yeah?”

 It’s enough to placate the eager bunny and make you and Tenko gag internally for the meantime. “Mmm, only if you call me tonight,” she nuzzles into his hair. It was no secret (evidently) that the two were fucking, his smooth voice and sauve personality miraculously calming the eccentric and bold girl down. You didn’t come in contact with Hawks a lot, but you did unfortunately hear about his stamina from your girlfriend and see the way he undressed other girls in the hallways solely with his eyes enough to know that he wasn’t someone you wanted to spend your heart and time on.

 Which is why you did a double take when you realized his honey colored orbs settled on you.

 “L/N, right? How’ve you been?” His lids were lowered, the corners of his lips pulled up.

 You stutter a moment before answering lamely, “Uh, I-I’ve been good, thanks.”

 But it seems like he was more than overjoyed with your response from the way his smile widened and he lifted his head from Rumi’s neck to see you more clearly.

 “Yeah? Make any new friends over the break? Maybe got yourself a little boyfriend?” Hawks turns his gaze ever so slightly to his left, and you follow his eyes as they also land on Touya.

 You swallow thickly as you feel heat crawl up your neck to your face, your palms feeling slick as you register his meaning.

 He knows.

 And Tenko knows it too, from the way he side-eyes you concernedly, but staying silent (probably for his own sake, which was valid). Your “boyfriend” snarls quietly at Hawks, his balled fists turning a bright blue as they begin to heat up, much to the instigator’s amusement.  Touya never makes eye contact with you throughout the whole exchange, though.

 “Whaaatttt?” Kamiiji, Mirko, and Takeyama squeal obnoxiously, evidently intrigued at the notion of you being involved with a mystery man. “No fucking way, who is it?”

 “Well-he- I mean, my parents kinda set us up…” You stammer mortified, caught between telling the truth or not. It was obvious Touya hadn’t told anyone apart from his closest friend, otherwise Rumi would have for sure found out through Hawks with Touya’s permission.

 You wish you didn’t feel your heart drop a little at the thought of Touya so obviously wanting to keep your relationship with him under wraps. Were you really so embarrassing to be associated with?

 But you’re saved from your internal battle when Tenko pipes up at his own expense.

 Thank god.

 “It doesn’t matter, it's not like they’re married or whatever-”

 Yet. At least it's part of the truth.

 “-come on Y/N, we should head to class,” Tenko looks at you meaningfully, and wanting to head out of the limelight before-

 “Ahh, Shimura! Almost didn’t notice you there, buddy. You’re so quiet, it's easy to forget you’re there, y’know?” Hawks says gleefully as he throws an arm around the anxious boy’s boney shoulders and flashes a knowing smile at Touya, who mirrors Hawks’ saccharin expression.

 Tenko refuses to rise to the backhanded comment, opting to nervously scratch his neck and you quickly pinch your fingers to avoid reaching out and pushing the ravaging hand away and nodding his head weakly. 

 Touya comes on his opposite side, also wrapping a patched arm around Tenko’s other side so that the poor victim is trapped between the two bloodthirsty boys. They start steering him away from the group, and you stand there, trying to decide to butt in or join the oblivious girls who start making their way to class, chattering amongst themselves.

 Your dad’s words come back to you.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 Fine.

 This is going to be killing two birds with one stone anyways. You technically were going to be putting Touya first by letting him know what you did or didn’t like. The start of your rocky relationship had to have foundations on some form of do’s and don'ts for either of you, right?

 And so, taking a deep breath, you march a couple meters up to the three boys, hearing sickening phrases of “grease-stain”, and “worthless little piece of shit, since when did you talk to girls?”, gently take an empty space of your friend’s shoulder that isn’t preoccupied by either tan or patched arm, and pull him around so that he’s facing you.

 Unfortunately, you didn’t think to account for the other two who would no doubt keep an iron-grip on Tenko, so you’re left holding onto him while Touya and Hawks are staring disbelievingly and amused at you respectively.

 “Tenko and I have to go to class,” you say quietly yet firmly as you ignore the spindly boy’s gaping at your audacity. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him a grease-stain, or anything otherwise offensive.”

 You continue, mustering the last of your bravery as you finally address your fiance, or whatever the hell he was to you at this moment.

 “Look, Touya, it’s obvious Hawks knows, and I told Tenko too. I won’t tell anyone else, though, if you’re not comfortable with it. But I want you to please start respecting my friends, and in return me as well if we’re gonna be engaged.” It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with him while his blown-wide, furious blue oceans are burning holes into your face.

 “You little bitch,” Touya starts on you to your utter dismay, but Hawks hold an arm out to prevent him from advancing on you any further. Even Tenko moves slightly in front of you to shield you from harm, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed, but rather, adds to Touya’s irate state.

 In fact, if he didn’t realize, or didn't want to acknowledge your kinsmanship with Tenko, he certainly had to now.

 Because not only does Tenko move in front of you, but the second Touya falters he takes the opportunity to propel you forward, covering almost 3 feet’s worth of a distance in one stride as he pushes you away from both men and down the hall, blindly following the signs to land the two of you in your designated homeroom. It all happens so suddenly with your surroundings flashing by you from Tenko’s sheer speed that you almost get whiplash as he continues to push you through the entrance of the class, and right into the first empty seat he sees towards the back of the room.

 He pants slightly for a minute, staring down at your seated form intensely before sitting in the empty seat right in front of you. As he pulls in the chair, you finally speak in a mix of frustration and gratitude.

 “Ten, I had it covered! You didn’t have to do that, Hawks had him too, it wasn’t like he was gonna-”

 “No, you don’t understand Y/N. They’re messed up in the head, they would do something fucked up, and the worst part is they wouldn’t even care if it was in the open. Hell, you’re his-”

 He whips his head around before whispering the rest to you.

 “-his fiance, and look how he reacted! He’s dangerous Y/N, you need to be more careful-”

 “Tenko, I’m not gonna be scared of the dude I’m engaged to,” you roll your eyes. “Okay sure, he’s a complete asshole to you and me, but he’s got too much to lose to actually do something real.”

 But the rattled boy wasn’t convinced as he shook his head at your naivety. It wouldn’t do to tell you about all the times they used their quirk on him, having years of training before he did, essentially rendering him useless to fight back or stand up for himself. He didn’t think you’d believe him if he told you that merely a week ago they got in contact with some friends involved with the Yakuza to beat him into a pulp on his way home from school, simply because it made them laugh, it made them happy. And he certainly didn’t want you to have any fights with your beloved fiance because of the way they would push him down onto the gravel behind school after quirk training sessions, use their feathers and fire to burn and rip his clothes apart, and heat up the bigger rocks on the ground until they were burning coals as vermillion feathers aided in throwing the small missiles at him. He would come home in burns, bruises, and cuts that were easy to excuse from the similar treatment he got from his father.

 That’s one of the only good things about his father, in hindsight. He built up Tenko’s immunity to these things, simply teaching him that these were the ways of life. You either eat, or get eaten.

 So no, it wouldn’t do well to tell Y/N any of these things.

 The bell rang, pulling you both from your back-and-forth arguing into a silent state along with the rest of the class. Your teacher, Vlad King, enters the room and almost fills up the doorway as he makes his way to the blackboard.

 “Good morning class. I hope you all had a relaxing winter break-but not too relaxing, as I expect you all should’ve reviewed last semester’s notes.” He looks pointedly around the room, the class filled with a mixture of scoffs, laughter, and groans.

 You and Tenko share an exhausted smile and simultaneously roll your eyes at your teacher’s academic reach.

 “But, there is one announcement I’d like to make before we start today’s lesson. Due to some parents feeling as though their kids aren’t receiving enough variety in terms of quirk training and the business side, along with the logistics of the hero world, me and a few other teachers have agreed to switching out some students after a period of time to experience the other classes, and the materials that go along with them.”

 “So, because of this change, we will be receiving some new students in our class today, as well as taking some out. But fear not! You will still have the same lunches as your friends and be able to see them in between classes.” He walks over to the door while talking, and you raise your eyebrows at Tenko. He shrugs as well, similarly clueless as to what your teacher meant.

 But you needn’t be confused any longer, because when he turns the door handle and opens the door, a slew of students trickled in.

 And much to your utter horror, Hawks and Touya saunter in as well.

 Your eyes widen and instinctively you slouch in your seat trying to make yourself unnoticeable and smaller. You see Tenko stiffen as well, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

 The scratching commences, too, and you quickly kick a leg out to meet the side of his chair to deter him from it.

 From the front of the classroom, all the students that were switching into your room are lined up, ready to introduce themselves.

 They all go, one by one, and as meaningless names float in and out of your attention, you risk a look at the two who had you practically shaking in your seat.

 You wished you hadn’t.

 Thing One and Thing Two were looking straight at you, your slouching proving to be unfruitful. Thing One was smugly looking at you, taking his sweet time for his eyes to note your hair, clothes, demeanor, and lingering in some places that were less than appropriate. Thing Two was glaring at you, gaze narrowed as his hands were stuffed in his pockets and by no doubt did you think he had taken your words from earlier with appreciation.

 It was too early. You didn’t want to hear what they had to say about your little speech so soon, especially when you saw how Touya took your words as an insult rather than an attempt to understand you and improve your relationship with him.

 Finally, it was their turn to introduce themselves to the class.

 “Hey, guys. You can just call me Hawks, no need for formalities,” the blond shrugs casually, seeing Vald King’s unimpressed expression and giving him a charming smile. You hear a couple of girls fake screaming his name as he introduces himself, and Hawks flashes a round of winks and finger guns at his fangirls, much to your disgust.

 “The name’s Dabi,” and your attention is turned to him once again. His voice is gruff, yet clear, and as charming of an aura Hawks gave off with the noises of various swoons, your fiance’s introduction prompts nothing but a deadly silent classroom, the occasional paper-turning and small murmurs echoing throughout the room.

 Tenko turns slightly in his seat to you and gives you another meaningful look. You both knew what each other were thinking.

 That’s right, he goes by the name Dabi here. I shouldn’t risk calling him by his real name around others, he might get upset at the informality.

 The rest of the students chime in with their names, and finally your teacher claps his hands, gathering your attention back to him.

 “Alright everyone, now that you all know the new students, say goodbye to your transitioning classmates and wish them luck in their new classes. Hajime, Setsuna, Tenko, and Kai, please pack your belongings and report to class 3-A.”

 You whip your head around in horror at Tenko who has gone stock still. The boy behind you, Setsuna, starts packing his things and grumbling under his breath. Tenko slowly begins to put his binders and pencils in his bag, not having the courage to look at your helpless expression.

 You feel like you were being thrown to the dogs, a piece of meat ready to be torn apart and ripped to shreds.

 Vlad King notices Tenko’s dawdling, and barks out “Hurry it up Shimura, we don’t have all day and these students need seats!”

 At this, both Hawks and Dabi’s heads turn to the both of you, and if they hadn’t noticed the disposition of you both, they damn well did now. You see Dabi’s eyes trail to something behind you and the corners of his mouth quirk up a bit.

 Setsuna gets up from his seat behind yours, and passes to the front of the class along with the rest of the stragglers.

 Oh, fuck. Please don’t let them sit here, please please ple-

 But it seems that you had previous karma to atone for, because the moment you start praying, both boys start making their way towards you. You shrink even lower in your seat, wishing desperately that you had brought a hoodie to wear to at least cover your face from this torture.

 It was only when Tenko finally packed his things and stood up at the side of his seat in front of you that Dabi and Hawks stopped stalking towards the seats that sandwiched you. He blocks their path and predatory looks, giving you a second’s reprieve of sheer panic. There is a tense moment where Dabi stands directly in front of Tenko, sizing him up and looking him down. You vaguely hear Ten murmur something to him, and Dabi lets out a loud scoff, elbowing the thin boy out of his way.

 You half rise out of your seat, naturally wanting to intervene as Tenko winces and grips his wounded side, but he quickly looks over his shoulder and shakes his head minutely, as if warning you to stay put. In the midst of you standing up however, Dabi moves forward, leaving you face to face with him.

 For the second time that day, you were in very close proximity to him, much to your discomfort. His blue eyes scorch your soul, much like the small blue flames emitting from the sides of his forearms. He narrows his gaze at you and stares at you until you relent and slowly sit back down. You can feel his eyes still on your form as he halfway circles around you and sits in the empty seat behind you. Hawks watches all of this in great amusement, and winks at you as he usurps Tenko’s seat in front of you.

 That’s just fucking great.

 Your fate is sealed as you look at the front of the room and watch Tenko give you a worried look as he’s ushered outside in the wave of kids exiting the room. The door slams shut as Vlad King closes it behind him, and the class is noticeably quieter as the lesson starts, some boring shit about submitting paperwork on time in an office setting and how to deal with setbacks.

 You try to focus as much as you can, but it's hard to ignore the way the back of your desk leg is being repeatedly slammed against any time Vlad King raises his voice, so the sound is muted to everyone but you. You grit your teeth and grip your pencil harder, almost breaking the lead when almost two minutes later you smell singed hair.

 And singed hair it was, all yours in fact as you frantically gather your hair in your hands and see burnt stands breaking off in your trembling fingers. In complete fury now, you whip around and harshly whisper, “Can you please stop-”

 “You got some fuckin’ nerve, you know that? Hangin’ out with that freak, and then defending him-especially in front of me. As if that’s not bad enough, you got the balls to ignore me when you owe me an apology.”

 You gape at him and even let out a little disbelieving laugh at his words. He said you had some nerve when he’s the one asking for an apology? 

 “Apologize for what, exactly? Stopping you from harassing Tenko and calling him offensive names?”

 His eyes widen mockingly, his eyebrows raised as the staples around his mouth tremble in his effort to not burst out laughing at your indignation.

 “I’m not harassing him. He should be glad we’re even approaching him, we’re like the closest things to friends he has. Why do you think he only hangs with you? It’s ‘cause you're the only braindead idiot in this school who doesn’t realize what a creep he is. And as for the ‘offensive names’, it can’t be offensive if it's true. He is a f-”

 Your ears start ringing as you feel like he’s pushing you past your breaking point. You can’t bear to hear any more slander against one of your closest friends, but as you try to whip around to face the front Dabi quickly catches onto one of your wrists, preventing you from turning away from him any more. His staples holding his scarred sin together dig into your flesh, and you quietly whimper in pain as you try to wrench your hand free.

 He simply tightens his grip and jerks you forward, causing you to practically fall out of your seat as he leans in close.

 “Don’t try to move away from me, Y/N. You were practically thrown at me, and that means you’ll do whatever the fuck I want, when I want.”

 You look up at him with glassy eyes, hair messily covering your face from the rough treatment. He looks almost thoughtful, the closest thing to a soft emotion you’ve seen from him yet as he brushes the hair from out of your face and behind your ear. 

 “And right now, your fiance wants you to stop hanging out with Shimura. Permanently.”

 **********

It’s less of a school bell and more like a trumpet from heaven when the indication of the class ending rings throughout the school. You had already packed your bag almost 10 minutes before the bell rang, not wanting to waste a second of the opportunity to make a mad dash away from Dabi.

 But you needn’t worry, because while you were practically sprinting down the halls looking for Tenko’s class, Dabi and Hawks were leisurely taking their sweet time packing up their bags, which were a little too light for anything deemed studious.

 Hawks chuckles after your form stumbled out of the classroom. “What’s gotten into her? Scared her off already?”

 “Something like that,” Dabi scoffs humourlessly. “ I just told her to stop fuckin’ around with Shimura.”

 “Man, and here I thought we were gonna take it easy on her for her first day.” Hawks tuts, shaking his head mockingly so that his blond locks fall handsomely around his face. “You’re breaking her in like a dog, Dabi.”

 But Dabi could care less about the timing of your inevitable breaking. He shoulders his bag and runs a hand through his hair, careful enough not to dislodge the black dye.

 They both walk out of the room to the next class, Hawks sending random girls an appreciative  up-down look that lead to eruptions of teasing giggles along the halls. “Regardless of how or when I break her-which, by the way, is gonna happen hard ‘cause there’s no fuckin’ way I’m putting up with her bitchy attitude-I’m not gonna let that walking mistake hang out with her anymore. He’s dead weight to anyone, and it’s so embarrassing to see how big of a boner he gets when she looks at him.”

 “That's the spirit,” Hawks clapped him on the back, steering him around the corner to their next class.

 “By the way man, you know we have lunch with her too, right?”

 **********

“And then he burned my hair!” You cry indignantly, folding your arms and leaning against the wall next to Tenko who was waiting in line for mediocre cafeteria food.

 “See? I told you, he’s dangerous. Him and Hawks both have a messed up sense of humor, and they have no shame in it either. You need to be more careful around them Y/N, don’t piss Dabi off especially, please.” He murmurs, looking at you through his bluish white bangs. You pick up a banana and plop it onto his green tray, causing him to whine about ‘NPC’s poisoning the crappy facility food’. Whatever that meant.

 “It’s healthy, you need it,” you shoot him a disapproving glare and pointedly lift one of his free spindly arms, gesturing to the lack of meat on his skin.

 “Okay mom,” he sneers as you pluck a Twinkie from his tray and transfer it to yours with an innocent smile as you do so.

 You both reach the end of the line and you wait as Tenko checks out. Looking around, it seems like the cafeteria is filled, so you elect to eat outside on one of the benches.

 “But, anyways,” you continue your conversation from earlier, “is that how they always are? How do you deal with it?”

 “Well, usually if you try to stay out of their way and just do as they do, both of ‘em will leave you alone.” He says uncomfortably, opening the courtyard doors for you with nine fingers as you quickly hold his tray to minimize the effort.

 “I usually try to think of them as the boss battle. If you avoid them, you’ll have a peaceful day. But if you try picking a fight with them, then you’ll take massive damage.” He shudders as flashbacks of burning rocks pelting his skin and ripped clothes enter his vision.

You scan the area looking for a quiet place to sit among the pink ground littered with cherry blossom petals, and find relief when you see Rumi, Takeyama and Kamiji scattered around a bench on the farthest side of the building. You call out for them and all three of them simultaneously turn and wave excitedly at you to come over.

 The grass feels lush and soft under your feet as the sakura petals swirl around you both as you cross the school grounds. You got lucky eating outside with this weather, and you internally want to make it a habit to come outside if the skies stay clear and blue like today’s.

 “Hey you two! Lucky you both are in our lunches too, huh?” Rumi smiles wide as Takeyama tosses you a cherry Ramune. Kamiji scooches over on top of the wooden table to make room for you to sit as Tenko takes a place on the seat itself.

 “Yeah, we didn’t have you all last year so I’m glad your schedules coincide with ours. How was class?” You press down on the little ball at the top of your Ramune lid and watch as it drops and fizzles in the substance. Tenko eyes it with interest, so you pass it his way and watch amusedly as he snaps open the top and practically chugs the whole thing in one go, precariously holding a finger out while he does so.

 “Ugh, don’t get me started. Midnight’s tits were bouncing in my face the whole time, I couldn’t keep my eyes on my paper.” Takeyama swats Rumi’s white ears as Kamiji bursts out laughing.

 “God, you’re so vile. But I can’t lie, she definitely improved her fit from last year.” Yuu says with a snort.

 “She’s such a badass, I’d totally ask her hand in marriage if I wasn’t getting saddled with-” But you freeze mid-sentence, face heating up as you catch your mistake.

 Tenko chokes on the drink, the girls squealing in disgust as Ramune spews out of his nostrils. You stammer, trying to cover up your tracks but there’s no need to as the focal point of the conversation turns to something behind you.

 “Oh my god, what are they doing here?” Kamiji whispers in awe.

 You whip your head around, and for the third time that day, your heart sinks to your ass.

 **********

 “Where is she, anyways? I don’t see her in here,” Dabi tries to ask disinterestedly as he casually sweeps his eyes around the crowded hall.

 “Ahhh, the pining begins, I see. Don’t worry, Rumi has the same lunch with us, so my best guess is she’s with her.” Hawks chomps on a piece of chicken, somehow managing not to spill any teriyaki sauce on his jacket.

 “Shut up birdbrain, I’m not pining. I just wanna make sure she’s not embarrassing me any more than she already has,” Dabi drones, cuffing the blond upside his head.

 “Question: how is she embarrassing you if no one knows you two are engaged?” His red wings flutter with glee as he catches Dabi giving him a dark look, opting not to answer.

 “You’re not answering my ques-tion”, Hawks sings, thoroughly basking in the catching Dabi’s ulterior motives.

 “And I’m not gonna answer either. Just tell me where she sits, idiot.” Dabi snaps, getting antsier by the second. 

 “Alright, alright, cool your head, matchstick. Rumi usually sits outside, so let’s check there. But hurry up ‘cause I’m hungry” Hawks whines as they make their way to the outside doors.

 They too are greeted with the same colors of pink sakura and bright well-kept grass, along with clear blue skies. But all Dabi sees is red when his gaze finally looks around and sees you with your friends...including Tenko Shimura.

 Hawks sees you too, and whistles as he glances back at Dabi’s face. If looks could kill, you’d be a burning pile of ash right now.

 “I swear to fucking god, I’m gonna kill them both.” Dabi growls as he begins to stalk towards your group. And of course, his friend joins in too, if not to just watch the episode that will unfold, but rather to actually prevent Dabi from causing any lasting damage...at least, on school property, that is.

 At the sound of your animated laughter and voice, the inky black mess of hair snaps up.

 He doesn’t like the way his heart clenches when the sight of you registers.

 Your laugh is a mix of soft giggles that crescendos into crazed wheezes that are accompanied by breathless snorts.

 It sounds so fucking ugly and obnoxious.

 He wants to hear more of it.

 Your hands wave around wildly as you animate your story with various gestures, sometimes throwing your arms out in the air and then bringing them close together to emphasize something else.

 Who the hell uses hand gestures?

 What do your hands feel like? Are they soft, or rough? Are they bigger or smaller than his? 

 What would they feel like if they caressed his skin? If they slapped him?

 Dabi is 20 feet away, and you still haven’t noticed him stalking towards you yet.

 Your head is thrown back now, hair shaking as you screech with laughter, your face scrunched up in laughter.

 He should’ve burned the rest of your hair, too.

 What would the material feel like through his fingers if he yanked the strands? If he caressed them slowly, in the dark?

 Why the fuck am I thinking about that?

 Your laughter has stopped now, the air eerily quiet. Dabi makes straight eye contact with you as he sees you've finally noticed him, as he watches Rumi whisper something to the group.

 He sees Tenko look panic-stricken, fumbling around his lunch to pack up and no doubt get the hell out of there.

 But not you, though.

 You just stare at him like he’s a wild animal, like you don’t know why he’s coming towards you so fast and with such purpose.

 He’s glad your eyes are on him. Property should know who it’s attention should be on, and who to cater to.

 He just wishes your eyes weren’t filled with so much fear. It’s making his heart squeeze and it feels weird. He doesn’t like it.

 “Hey Rumi. Yuu, Moe, how are you ladies doing?” He hears Hawk’s smooth voice flow into the air and join in with the falling of the soft tree petals as well.

 “Hey Hawks,” they drawl, no doubt excited to be blessed with his presence.

 Only you and Tenko stay quiet, the latter looking uncomfortably at his feet while you simply stare at Dabi.

 “I see you ladies are all enjoying the weather tod-”

 “-What the fuck are you doing here?” Dabi rudely interrupts the would-be smooth transition into conversation, but at the moment he doesn't care. He wants to know why the hell you so obviously ignored what he said earlier, and where the fuck you found the balls to blatanlty piss him off.

 But you stay silent, and stare at him further, eyes widening marginally like a deer in headlights.

 His heavy presence brings the feeling of death, the onslaught of dread, and it invades the group’s senses like the plague. His flashing arctic eyes scream murder, his balled hands reflect nothing but danger, and his set-mouth indicates that anything that comes out of it will end in vicious tears and a broken body.

 It contrasts so weirdly with his counterpart, who has a kilowatt smile that stretches from one ear to the other, his teeth gleaming so blindingly similar to the sun that it was another reason you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for too long. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, showing no sign of lashing out and causing strife. The yellow sky rays bounced off his back, making him glow with heavenly golden light like an angel, and his eyes....oh lord, his honey colored hues swam with mischief; untold secrets ladeled into his ears in the dead of the night when he would lie side to side with multiple women of all shapes, colors, and sizes.

 But either way, regardless of the mismatched auras of the two, they both brought chaos and hell in their own ways, subtle or not.

 “Uhhh, ladies, why don’t I treat you to some of the school’s finest soba?” Hawks chuckles and scratches the back of his head before offering a hand to Rumi. “It seems like Dabi here needs to have a conversation with Y/N in private.”

 Rumi takes his hand and offers her own to Kamiji and Takeyama, who all pull each other up and look at you curiously. They’re smart enough not to ask openly, though. No sense in making things more awkward than they already are.

 Tenko tries to subtly get up as well, but is stopped when Dabi snarls, “You stay there. You and I are gonna have a conversation as well, fucktard.” He looks directly at you as he hurls the insult at the gangly boy, who flinches as if the words were knives.

You nap out of your horrified reverie.

 “Uhhh, well, we’ll see you around, I guess.” Kamiji calls from over her shoulder at you, her face sympathetic as Hawks’s arm circles around her shoulders and pulls her closer, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.

 “Tenko, you can leave. Whatever patchwork here has to say has nothing to do with you. It’s between us, as my fiance.” You deadpan and return his ice-cold stare.

 The poor boy looks between his tormentor and saviour, conflicted as to what he should do. While Dabi’s arms and legs are starting to alight, you remain calm as ever perched on the table as if the petals littered on the ground weren’t silently catching fire.

 “If you get off the ground, I promise you won’t leave here with all your limbs intact.” The flame user says lowly, his voice catching on the gravely rasp of his threatening words.

 “Tenko. Please leave.” You say with finality, crossing your arms.

 A tense moment passes between all three of you, Tenko sweating bullets. He slowly starts to build his limbs up to a stand, his height matching Dabi’s yet somehow still cowering over the striking look he was receiving from him. He hesitates for a moment before sticking a cautious leg out towards where the other four departed people went, as if he were testing the waters.

 Dabi copies you and merely stares him down.

 His expression is unreadable as Tenko moves another leg out, and another as his body starts functioning properly and jerkily walks away from the two of you. Miraculously, Dabi is letting him, not seeming too keen on fulfilling his past promise of detaching his anatomy in favor of getting to you now.

 And then there was one. 

 You both look away from Tenko’s disappearing figure and finally at each other. 

 You still don’t say anything.

 He starts slowly circling around the table towards you, keeping his malicious eyes on you and your body the whole time. But regardless of the feeling of dread that courses through your veins as he draws nearer, you refuse to kowtow to this overgrown-spoiled-rotten eldest child. He was just another man, another blob of superior prejudice that was in your way of being happy in your career and in your life in general.

 One more step and he’s finally in your face now, a mere foott away from your sitting form. Your eye level is with his chest as he stands before you, tilting his head as his eyes rake your figure up and down. Your skin crawls and you look away, not wanting to react to his offensive gaze when he suddenly lurches forward. You can’t help as your indifferent demeanor cracks as you flinch when both his hands settle on your knees.

 He leans down, a few inches away from you when he speaks.

 “Are you deaf as well as stupid, you quirkless cunt?” He breathes into your face. His hands warm up ever so slightly on your knees, and you can’t help but think with a flash of paranoia how easily and quietly he burned your precious hair not even two hours ago. 

 You try to placate him by talking calmly, a brutal contrast in the way your heart was pounding in your tightening chest.

 “I don’t know what you mean, Touya. If you’re upset about something, we can talk about it without you trying to intimidate me.” Placing your hands on his atop your knees, you gently attempt to move him off but only succeed in him gripping you tighter. He wrenches your knees apart and you gasp as he slides himself in between your legs.

 “Oh, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t play coy with me, I told you clearly not to hang around with that greasy freak. Or do I need to give you a permanent reminder, huh?”

 He grasps your chin and shakes your head roughly as he presses himself further into you, hips gently rocking back and forth into the confines of your skirt.

 It’s hard to keep up a calm facade when his clothed erection is feeling up the outline of your panties.

 You release a frustrated cry and try to buck him off of you, but that only ends up pushing even further against him, much to your displeasure.

 “Fucking let go! Let go of me you disgusting asshole!” Punching and kicking does absolutely nothing to deter him, he only laughs at your pathetic defense as he grabs a stray hand in its mission to slap him square across the face and slams it down behind you on the table. He fails to stop the other hand though, as it ducks from underneath his chin and gives him a mean uppercut.

 He takes it maddeningly gracefully, though, as he finally catches the offensive hand and also smashes it down on the wood, emitting a pained wail from you.

 Both of you pant for a couple of seconds, tears of pain and anger threatening to spill over your lashes and reflex tears in his amused ones.

 “Do I have your attention now? Or do you want me to bruise your legs too?” He slides closer to your ear and his hot breath tickles your lobe as he whispers darkly, “I got a couple ideas in mind on how I can do that.”

 Your eyes widen and you try to jerk violently out of his hold. The patched hands holding onto your wrists heat up significantly, and you wail as your skin simmers and bubbles.

 “Please stop, Touya. It hurts,” you sob as he moves back to your face again, his body hovering your overs as he leans in further and hips stilling in their perverse movements, only pressing against your clothed mound at a stand-still now.

 “You didn’t answer me. Why the fuck,” his cooled palms flared back to life again and you painstakingly stifle a whimper, “are you hanging out with Shimura again?”

 “I-I was just having lunch with him! It wasn’t like we were meeting up outside of school or anything,” you plead with him, completely abandoning your passive facade. At the end of the day, you were quirkless and he wasn’t. Which meant you weren’t stupid or cowardly, but you were just human- you didn’t want to piss him off further by givng shitty answers and then getting burned.

 You try shifting to evade the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants but he holds you steadfast. He leers at you, and you turn your head to avoid the manic expression on his face. It was just your bad luck that no one else was around, the rest of the students and teachers heading back inside for their next class.

 “Aww what, you’ll take Skin ‘n’ Bones’ dick, but you can’t handle a little teasing from mine? Do I scare you that bad, princess?”

 Your bottom lip quivers as you bear his filthy words, your seared hands shaking in pathetic attempts to quiet any pained noise.

 He moves his head in such a way that his tilted frame comes a few millimeters away from your trembling smooth lips, and you look up at him with scrunched eyebrows in a plea for mercy.

 “Or, has little miss perfect never had a cock before? Never taken a thick, pierced dick up her tight little virgin pussy?” He groans as he rubs his erection up and down your mound, your skirt shifted in the tussle in such a way that it offers him a snatch of open skin that he takes with relish.

 You gasp and bite your lip and he thrusts gently into you, looking at your fearful face for the truth.

 “Stop-stop being gross Touya. I haven’t done anything like that with him, not that you should care who I fuck with. And for the record, like I said before, I was just having lunch with my friends, not having a goddamn date with any of them, including Tenko. And I don’t know who you think you are telling me who I can or can’t hang out with,” you try to sneer as you finally wrench a hand away from his grip and manage to push him back some with a shaky arm against his toned shoulder.

 “We’re not married yet, and Tenko has never done anything perverted or twisted like you that I would have to stay away from him. In fact, if he were my fiance then he’d act like a real one, tenfold than you ever could.”

 You don’t realize how big of a mistake you made when Dabi stills his pressing hips and releases your other wrist, which you snatch in your other hand and cradle the bright red flesh.

 He backs away a step or two, to your utter astonishment. He looks at you blankly and cocks his head at your unsure self. You have no idea what you said that could have caused such a change in demeanor, weren’t you just dishing back at him what he was giving you?

 “You really think he’s that great, huh? Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised you do, a quirkless uptight bitch like you goes perfectly with that waste of space.”

 “He’s not-” you begin to argue but are cut off when he spins on the heel of his black combat boot and starts walking away from you, only to call out over his shoulder, “If that’s the case sweetheart, I can’t wait for you to see how great and perfect he looks when his skin is burnt to a crisp and his body’s nothing more than ash and soot.”

 The blood drains from your face as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve made the target on Tenko’s back even bigger by trying to defend him. There’s no doubt now that if he was trying to evade Dabi and Hawks’ brutal treatment, they’d never let him breathe in peace now.

 You’d lose your best friend, and he’d never forgive you.

 Pride be damned.

 “Wait!” you cry out as you stumble off shaking legs and chase after him. His arms are thrown behind his back in an easy stretch, the movement making his stapled and scarred limbs seem even more menacing than ever before. 

 “Touya, please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything to you!”

 But he clicks his tongue and continues to stroll past you in the same direction your group had fled mere minutes before.

 “Too late dollface, I can’t have my little fiance bitch thinking some fuckwad is better than me, can I?” He pouts and gives you an innocent mocking smile, knowing you were breaking slowly at each word that came out of his mouth.

 “You should be glad I’m giving him any sort of attention anyways, like I said before he’s a nobody-he never uses his quirk anyways, he might as well be called a quirkless little fuck just like you! Hah! No wonder you two get along so well!”

 Tripping over your own feet, you try to keep up with his long strides and sway his mission to either kill Tenko or make his life even more hell than it was before.

 “No, no! That’s not true, please, Touya, he’s already so miserable, please leave him alone, I’ll do anything!” You practically shriek as you both finally reach the school doors and his hand grasps the handle.

 But he stops. Miraculously, he holds the door handle without turning it, and looks demeaningly at you.

 You try hard not to shrink back too much when he leans to your eye level, his hands on his knees as he says sickeningly sweetly, “Anything? You’ll do anything to save that sorry excuse of a bastard? Anything to make me not burn his ass down to hell?”

 It's hard to mask the loud gulp you make, and his grin stretches so wide his staples along the corners of his mouth move along as well.

 “Y-yes, anything. Please just stop hurting with him or messing with him at all. He’s not the one who pissed you off, I am.” You admit your defeat and hang your head low, peeking up at him between your lashes to judge his reaction.

 His cerulean eyes scrutinize you, his nose lifted in the air as he mockingly taps his chin in fake thought.

 “Hmm...well, I suppose you could start by not eating lunch with him in the first place. I don’t know how you stomach anything anyways, he reeks of a decaying body.” He smirks, but you dig your nails into your palms so as to not rise to the bait.

 Anything.

 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.

 After a moment of silence that ensured you really weren’t going to lash out at him, he continues, this time stepping forward until he has you backed up into the adjacent brick wall in the little hidden alley besides the doors.

 “And,” his saccharine words penetrate your dizzy head as his arm stretches out towards you, and for the third time that day you were essentially pinned verbally and physically as his hand toys with the hem of your collar, “from now on you’ll be eating with me and Hawks too if he’s around. You’re also gonna stop being such a teasing little prude and let me touch any part of you without backing away or saying any bitchy comments. It’s your duty as a good little wife anyways, right Y/N?” 

 You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel one hand make its way to circle around your neck in a snug noose and the other slip up your shirt, fingers punctuated with cold little stitches spreading across the expanse of your stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

 “Come on,” He whispers in his gravelly voice, leaning into the crook of your neck, “where’s that little attitude now, huh?”

 For Tenko. This is all only for Tenko.

 “Okay Touya. I’ll do it. Just...please, please give him a break.” You muster up the last of your courage to face him, and you finally feel a single tear treacherously escape the confines of your eye and slide down your face. You feel humiliated, having put up such false pretenses of being cool, calm and collected when he first approached you and now...now you were an emotional mess. In just a few sentences and unwanted physical contact, he had you right where he wanted.

 And the worst part was, you both knew you couldn’t even tell anyone. If you told Tenko, he’d immediately reprimand you and try to brave it by hanging out with you just so you didn’t have to endure the plight he himself was always in. You couldn’t confide in any of your girlfriends, no doubt Hawks would somehow spin it with his honeyed words to make you seem like the crazy, overreacting one. Your parents were a no-go either, having been telling you from the start that they weren’t to hear any criticism of their perfect, levelheaded future son-in-law.

 You wonder how your parents would feel about their dear son-in-law licking the tears off your flushed cheeks with a condescending chuckle.

 “Oh come on doll, having lunch with me isn’t so bad now, is it?” He cooes at you with faux sympathy. He does nothing to hide the twitching muscle in his jaw that prevents him from bursting out laughing when you furiously brush the tears and his saliva off your face.

 No, I don’t want to have lunch with you, you sick freak. I want to see my friends and not feel my heart pounding up my throat when I’m with you.

 “No, it’s not bad,” you whisper dejectedly, hanging your head and waiting for his next move.

 “Attagirl,” he says lowly, one finger ghosting over the waistband of your pants before retreating out of your shirt and to his side. The other hand wrapped around your neck squeezes once, relishing in your panicked gasp and frantic scrabbling at the back of his hand before also coming down.

 He finally deems your disheveled state a good enough reason to stop tormenting you, and he backs away with a little smile on his face that does nothing to calm your nerves.

 Turning the corner and opening the doors, he doesn’t look at your pathetic shaking body sliding down the wall when he says, “I’d get to class if I were you. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble for hanging out with people you shouldn't be with in the first place.

 Something tells you he’s not referring to himself as the doors bang shut.

 **************

 8 New Messages

 Rumi: Hey girl, you okay? Dabi seemed kinda off, I wanted to ask you what happened but I figured you two needed space and Hawks said not to bother you abt it:/ Did you guys get into a fight?

 Yuu: Ummm since when did you and Dabi talk? And since when did he get mad at you? Text back ASAP!!!

 Moe: If you’re still alive, you def owe us an explanation, hello? What did that absolute hunk want from you? I didn’t even know you two knew each other!

 Ten-ten: Y/N please text me back as soon as possible

 Ten-ten: Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

 Ten-ten: What did he even want from you?

 Ten-ten: If you’re mad that I left, I’m so sorry, I just thought me being there wouldn’t be much help to you

 Ten-ten: Please tell me you’re okay

 2:10: I’m fine, just walk around the back and meet me by the gate when the bell rings. Keep your head down, too.

 **********

 Dabi doesn’t feel any shame jerking off in the bathroom.

 Hawks doesn’t feel embarrassed either, listening through Dabi’s grunts and shaky breaths as he recounts the entirety of what happened between you and him after the group left, babes hanging off Hawks’ arms.

“So, what, you two just boned and you told Shimura to piss off? That’s what got your dick hard as a diamond?” Hawks chuckles, folding his arms and leaning against the white tile wall.

 “Yeah,” Dabi grunts as his hand works vigorously up his shaft, his piercings clinking harmoniously at his ministrations, “But fuck, man, she felt so soft and hot down there. Her stomach was so smooth too, I couldn't keep my hands to mys-ahh-self.” He groans as he climaxes, watching his precious seed erupt and drop into the toilet below him. What a waste.

 He wishes it went into your mouth instead.

 “Her stomach?” Hawks’s avian eyes practically bulge out of his head as he roars with laughter, dodging weak blue flames aimed straight at his hair. “God, you sound like a virgin, man. Who the fuck gets turned on by a stomach?”

 “Shut the hell up you overgrown chicken. I don’t fucking know, okay? She just- argh, I don’t know, when I saw her from a distance I didn’t really think much of her but when I got all close up with her I felt like I was going crazy. I mean, my body started heating up more than normal and I just wanted to touch her.”

 The blond was quiet, continuing to listen to his friend’s rant as Dabi washed his hands and inspected his spiky hair in the dirty mirror.

 “And her attitude? My god, hearing every bitchy word come out of her mouth was worth the look on her face when I held her down. Priceless,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he begins tightening a loose stitch under his eyebag.

 “She smelled pretty fuckin’ good too, maybe thats what got me going in the first place. I just wanted to be closer to her, regardless of how she saw me. It was just so satisfying seeing her break down, and all because of me, yknow?”

 He finally finishes checking his reflection and picks up his bag from the ground, Hawks following pursuit as they make their way outside the bathroom. They were currently skipping their last class, Quirk Training because they could actually afford to. Their teacher knew that both of them surprisingly had the highest grades in the class and continuously kicked every other student into the dust, the rest of their peers not having the right quirks to even hope to make it to the two delinquent’s level of strength and skill. It wouldn’t hurt to skip a few times, they would just pick up right where they left off, pummeling every other kid aside until they made their way to the top again.

 Plus, with all the testosterone raging through Dabi’s blood after lunch, he decided it would be better to take all the energy out in more relieving ways in the bathroom rather than using the adrenaline to accidentally blast some poor chump’s face off in the heat of the moment, pun intended.

 Not that he would mind, don’t get him wrong. It would be pretty funny seeing the look of horror on everyone’s face when the smell of a burning body hit their nostrils. But it wasn’t worth a suspension, or worse, an earful from his dad.

 “Oh, and by the way, she’s gonna have lunch with us from now on. I told her if she didn’t want me beating Shimura into a pulp she was gonna stop eating with him and come join us instead.”

 At this, Hawks gives Dabi a smirk and says dryly, “How romantic of you. If you wanted her to spoon feed and baby you at lunch so you could have a boner the entire period, you should’ve just told her straight up.”

 Dabi opens his mouth to argue with half of his statement before he’s interrupted.

 “Where is Shimura by the way? Did you see him leave the locker room? Training’s done, he should be out any minute now, why don’t we pay him a little visit and relay the same message you gave your little bitch to him as well?”

 Both boys smirk at each other as they make their way down to the locker rooms. Unfortunately for Tenko and fortunately for the devious duo , all three of them shared the same last class of Quirk Training. The frail, quiet boy tried his best to stay out of their way, but he might as well have had a sign up on his head that said MAKE MY LIFE HELL, PLEASE from the way he scratched himself raw, earning occasional disgusted looks from girls and snickers from a majority of the guys. His hair was almost always unkempt and in his face, prompting Dabi to yank his overgrown bangs up and out of his face as he snarled and spat venom into his victim’s wincing expression. When they sparred, Dabi held absolutely nothing back as he relished in the difference in their fighting styles: Tenko with close combat techniques and Dabi excelling in long distance. It was a recipe for disaster on Tenko’s side, and almost a cruel joke to the flame user as he easily sent wave after wave of burning hot hellfire towards the yelping boy. It came to a point where Dabi would openly and very loudly question why Tenko would even try, why he would even attend this class when he was beaten in under a minute-not nearly enough time to utilize his quirk.

 Their teacher would scold Dabi very lightly, but the damage was done and doubt was already planted into everyone’s mind as the seeds of disdain germinated and grew into ponderings of, has he ever beaten anyone before? He’s always out of the ring so fast, I didn’t even understand what his quirk was. Is he failing, how is he even passing this class?

 Only you were the one who knew it was his lifelong dream of working in the Rescue and Search unit, his quirk of decaying proving to be so deadly and harmful that he never had the courage to use it against anyone, no matter how bad they had it out for him. He could never live with himself if he ever caused anyone permanent damage that could end up in paralyzation, or worse.

 But that was the difference between poor Tenko and Dabi. Only one of them acted out in an eat or be eaten way.

 Hawks was more subtle in his torment, having less of a grudge towards the sulking grey mass of limbs. Sure, it was amusing watching him squirm and flinch and hear him plead raspingly to move your feathers, please, they’re covering my nose I can’t bREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE PLEASE I’LL DIE-

 But unlike Dabi, he didn’t get that big of a high from drawing blood and whimpering. That was all for fun and jokes to indulge in Dabi’s selfish and ruthless desires, sure, but the real rush he got was from the overall power imbalance from everyone else he received. It was knowing that he was at the top of the food chain, that no one could surpass him, even his brooding patchwork friend who he considered to be beside him if anything, but not above him in any sense. Tenko was just another cog in the grand machine that reinforced that idea every time he wilted and withered under Hawks’ sickeningly sweet, fake smile.

 You can’t blame him, either. He never originally asked for any of the attention the school practically spoon-fed him with when he was younger. No, he didn’t seek out any of the multitudes of guys that asked him to hang out every other weekend at the beach or park, and he was always indifferent to the girls begging him to spend the night and exchange numbers on the regular. They were all idiots anyways, what did they know? Sex, fame, money, drugs, all that bullshit that every young adult craves. He was better than that, he had a goal, he had ulterior motives, but he soon began to realize that the mind-numbingly brain dead people who circled him like their god could very well improve his chances of achieving said goal.

 And so Hawks began to painstakingly take time out to meet some tools dudes at the beach or catch a movie with them, he started opening up to sluts and bimbos girls via their legs more often and eventually he became a name revered around school, a reputation told and passed around the halls in whispers that traveled through notes and texts exchanged throughout classes.

 It just so happened to be in his luck that he was able to one day put a face to another name that floated through the halls in his passing classes: Dabi.

 They had been paired up to sparr, both sets of ears alert and open when their teacher read aloud each other’s quirks. Fire and feathers, huh? What a joke.

 At least, that's what the both of them thought about each other until they actually started fighting.

 Columns of cobalt flames rained above and around Hawks, and he was surrounded mere seconds after the match started. But nevertheless, his feathers detected a breeze from an open air pocket through the wall of fire, and he used his great wings to propel him through the slim opening to safety.

 That was the first time Dabi had ever been bested by anyone before, having every single one of his limbs pinned down by multiple heavy feathers tearing through his clothes, and similarly, it was the first time Hawks had even been surrounded so quickly by anyone else either.

 Thus was the start of their begrudging comradeship, which quickly evolved into something akin to a friendship when less training commenced and more grunted words and short phrases thrown to each other formed into gruff sentences, and bitter rants about shitty parents, being surrounded by painfully stupid peers, and how everyone else but them two saw the world for what it really was: a playground where they could topple everyone else down and somehow still manage to win those same hearts over as they used them as stepping stones to their own advantages.

 Dabi’s lust for blood and pain went hand in hand with Hawk’s craving for power. It was disgusting how the school worshipped them, taking any instance of abuse from either of them with a grain of salt, having already submitted to their superior auras. They truly were stepping stones, eagerly ready and oblivious to be used.

 And Tenko was just that, another meek, fragile little stepping stone that seemed so easy to crack...but somehow, instead of shattering into hundreds of pieces, he managed to retain his brittle shape and morph into a thorn in Dabi’s side. When he would be shoved into lockers for seemingly hours on end with burning feathers taped over his mouth (courtesy of Hawks to supply some material) that accentuated the scars on the lower half of his face, he wouldn’t tattle to any head authority or teacher. When they would tear and burn his clothes off in the locker room after their training sessions and force him to walk home in sweaty gym clothes, Tenko never lifted a finger to decay a hand or turn a feather into dust. He would simply sulk off and try to remain invisible and out of their way. 

 It drove Dabi crazy; he wanted the translucent skinned boy to scream for his fucking life, he wanted to see him lash out and fight, he wanted him to squeal like the pig he was. He wanted more reasons to beat him down and feel an ounce of joy in himself that he never received elsewhere. Seeing people shake and cower before him gave him the same rush as any heavy drug would do-it was addicting, and left him craving for more. It reinforced the idea that he was better than anyone else, and if his dad wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction or assurance that there was a purpose to his miserable life, then he would have to relish in the emotions he felt within others, even if it meant at the expense of his peers.

 And although he would never admit it, it secretly was hilarious as fuck for Hawks to watch Dabi lose his mind slowly but surely over the most trivial of things, like Tenko’s lack of reaction to their abuse. He knew it only came from the neglect Dabi felt at home, Endeavor’s blatant disappointment embedded its manifestation in the eldest son’s whole being, even if he would always deny that's the case. The lack of direction and emotion Enji showed to his lost cause of a son caused Dabi to lash out in increasingly aggressive ways at school. It just proved that even though Dabi thought he was better than everyone else, he truly was just another sheep like the rest of these idiots milling around. The brooding, aloof face he put up at school wasn’t enough to fool the sharp-witted avian; he was just an average spoiled elitist brat that threw tantrums when he didn’t get what he wanted, how stupid could he be? He thought too much of what others thought, even if he sought validation through his parents, who gives a fuck? It’s just another useless miserable factor of his life to ponder on, in Hawks’ opinion.

 If you asked Dabi what he thought of Hawks, he would give you a similar answer but with different facets. Sure, it was nice to have another god of the school walk around by his side, enforcing their reputations, and yes, both of them connected on negligent parents... but Hawks gave in too much into materialistic things. Sex and popularity were deterrents from the real world, and Dabi would be damned if he were to follow pursuit. Hawks was slowly proving himself to also be another pawn in their life’s game of chess, but for the time being he knew that making friends with him was looking at the bigger picture if he wanted to make a name for himself, no matter how painful that process was at times. Why the fuck would he waste time going to parties just to socialize and bang a bunch of slutty whores when he could be proving himself to the yakuza? While Hawks would be schmoozing with some busty bimbo and playing beer pong on a Saturday, Dabi would be making his own types of friends in hidden alleyways and getting acquainted with shady figures like Kai Chisaki, a boy around their age with connections that ran around the city and underneath the city lines. The scarred boy was dedicated to his eventual goal to rid this rotten society of all the superficial heroes and scum, so naturally he hadn’t the need or want to indulge in his own selfish desires.

 Up until this point, that is.

 Which brings him and his winged partner-in-crime to now, waiting in the shadows outside the entrance to the locker room. Waiting for a certain spindly, greasy-haired freak to make his appearance so he could beat the shit out of him and release some still pent-up energy that was not relinquished in the bathroom.

 So that he could tell him to stay the fuck away from what rightfully belonged to him, for the first time in his life.

 He reached down to pick up some gravel, hand-picking the rocks that seemed the sharpest as he heated up his palm. Without saying a word, Hawks’ feathers floated towards Dabi’s hand, embedding their bristles between the rocks. 

 It took about 5 more minutes of aimlessly lounging against the wall and burning other various thrown-out papers scattered around the ground, until the man of the hour made his appearance.

 It was pathetic, really, the way the door slowly creaked open as his matted pigeon colored head peeked out, swiveling around to take his surroundings. The second his head turned right, his eyes widened as he saw the hellraisers, and Tenko frantically tried to retreat back inside and slam the door shut.

 Unfortunately, he couldn’t beat the too-fast quills that snatched him by the collar and practically threw him forward. He flailed his limbs, trying to regain his balance and flee his inevitable beating. The panic that rose in his throat grew exponentially as he was dragged further towards Hawks and Dabi, who was juggling burning blue rocks in his hand along with familiar red plumage.

 He knew the drill all too well, becoming dreadfully acquainted with the makeshift missiles over the years.

 “Hey, Shit-mura, catch!” Dabi lobbed a pierced feather at his bony abdomen, and Tenko flinched violently as a glowing blue pebble ricocheted off his body, hitting against a barely-fading bruise from a similar routine performed merely weeks ago.

 Albeit for a different reason, one that didn’t have to do with a not-so-lucky girl like you.

 Tenko fell backwards as a volley of feathers jabbed under the soles of his feet, and watched in horror as the perpetrators advanced towards him, Hawks with his wings so leisurely ruffling in the breeze with a laid-back smile on his face, hands tucked in his jacket pockets contrasting with the demonic grin etched on Dabi’s face as they leer down on him.

 “What do you want now?” The fallen boy barely mutters, not bothering to look up at them.

 “Don’t address me like that you little shit,” Dabi hisses, flames flaring up in his palms just to show off how much ammo was still burning and waiting to be used...all for him, of course.

 “Stop hanging out with Y/N. The next time I see you talking with her, or even looking in her direction I’ll burn your sorry ass alive. Though I doubt anyone would care, anyways.” He speaks curtly, and it kills him internally to almost admit how frustrated he is seeing you two cross paths, even after a sole day.

 Tenko raises his eyebrows, looking between Dabi and Hawks, who, for the meantime, doesn't feel a need to waste his breath on such a petty matter.

 “We’re just friends, that's all we are. If you’re so concerned about me getting in the way, I promise I won't-”

 “-You think I’m actually worried about losing you to her?” The inky head draws closer, his voice low and raspy as he laughs. “Let me tell you something, and listen to me very clearly, because the next time I repeat myself is the day I’ll fuck you both up- I don’t give a shit who wants her, or who doesn’t. I’m not concerned about losing her either, you know why?” He grabs the frayed collar of Tenko’s shirt, and the latter chokes as his air is squeezed out of his frail throat, hands frantically grabbling at the purple-scarred constraints.

 He can feel flecks of spit on his face, the hands around his neck heating up suffocatingly as Dabi nails the final lid in his coffin.

 “Because that little tease was practically sold to me, get it? I didn’t even want her in the first place, which essentially makes her nothing short of a playtoy for me to fuck and fuck with whenever the hell I want, without you in the picture. I don’t need some weepy moron like your sorry ass getting her all teary-eyed when her eyes should be on me and me only.”

 He releases the weakling’s throat, wishing it was your smooth one instead. He almost would’ve had a boner if Tenko’s big, gulping breaths were a little bit more feminine sounding, like yours.

 “Okay, okay, whatever man, I’ll do what I can to stay away from her. Just…” and his voice trailed off into a whisper, hoping he could muster any more sincerity in his words, “...please don’t break her heart, or be too rough with her.” The mere thought of you being bruised and banged up like he was made him gag.

 It was sickening how similar his words mirrored your own.

Dabi scoffs as Hawks finally decides to speak up, spreading his hands in a faux show of good gesture.

 “I gotta admit though, Shimura, you got good taste in girls. I’m almost impressed you managed to get a cute little thing like her to even touch you.” Tenko blanches, noting the way Dabi’s jaw clenches as the instigator’s mouth curves into a smirk, all of them knowing full well that the carefully chosen words were meant to rile the situation up even further.

 But after a tense moment of everyone glancing at each other, the patchwork figure relents and exhales through his nostrils, deciding to grant the mess of fallen limbs a rare chance of mercy.

 “Shut the fuck up bird brain. Let’s go, I don’t wanna hear my dad bitchin’ if I come home late again,” He kicks Hawk’s boot with his own and turns around towards the entrance of the school, not sparing Tomura a second glance. Hawks laughs handsomely and gives the rattled boy a mock salute and a fluff of his grand wings before trailing after his counterpart.

 Shimura finally lets out a shaky breath, slowly picking his scattered belongings off the ground, snapping his head back up frequently as if the two were bound to come back and mess with him further.

 While he was picking his remaining binders and gym clothes off the ground, unbeknownst to him, about 50 feet up and out the school Hawks was fishing an object out of his plush wings.

 “What’re you doing?” Dabi asks lazily as they walk the streets of Musutafu, kicking sake bottles out of the way.

 “Hol’ on-” Hawks grunts, yanking the object loose from his tight confines of his feathers before placing it in Dabi’s open palm.

 “Huh? The hell’s this?” He raises an eyebrow, gingerly holding up the beaten screen in front of his face.

 “That right there is extra material to hold against your little wifey. Seems like he had more pressing things on his mind rather than to check for all his belongings,” The quick-witted avian pats his elusive wings proudly, basking in the benefits his stealthy quirk allows him.

 And sure enough, as Dabi gleefully cackles with laughter at his good fortune, Tenko Shimura is desperately patting down his pockets, looking for his phone while you chatter on cluelessly next to him. 

 ****************

 “So? How was your first day?”

 “Did you see Y/N? I heard from some upperclassmen that you got classes with her.”

 “You should walk her home after school!”

 Touya is immediately bombarded with questions from his siblings the second he makes his presence known by slamming the front door shut.

 He growls under his breath at all the clammer around him, and he barks at them to shut the hell up before he burns the house down.

 It doesn’t faze the rest of them who are blessed with their ice quirks, and they continue to pester him until he spills the most meager, unsatisfactory answers to them.

 “Yeah, I had a class and lunch with her. Happy? Now seriously back off.”

 Fuyumi and Natuso cheer as Shoto gives a slight smile.

 He heads off into the dining table, munching on carb-infested snacks as he scrolls through Tenko’s phone.

 The messages between you and him are long, dating back years that he has to swipe for minutes before getting to the first words of your conversations.

 A majority of the speech bubbles hold nothing but dorky back and forth’s of new movies that came out, hanging out here and there, and school help. Sometimes he’d come across you asking for advice for your parents, or ranting about having to keep a frustratingly posh look in public, and he realizes surprisingly you two might have more in common than he thought.

 He hadn’t even bothered to look at most of Tenko’s messages, nothing holding too much leverage on potential blackmail or more fuel against him, but suddenly his thumbs stilled as his eyes rove over a conversation from a couple months ago.

 Y/N: Ugh, it’s just one of those days, y’know? Idk if its PMS but i’ve literally been watching porn for like 2 hours now

 Touya’s eyes widen and he brings the screen mere inches from his eyes, just to ensure he’s not imagining his good luck...as well as disbelief.

 The next messages however, grab his elation by the balls and twist them into a cloud of red-filled rage.

 11:57 pm: I could give you something better than porn if you want:)

 It takes all he has not to throw up his munchies on the table at the pure inexperience Tenko’s words so evidently hold.

 Can this bastard be more cringe?

 Apparently it didn’t matter to you, because not even a full minute later you had responded to past-Tenko.

 Y/N: Oh yeah, like what?

 Touya excuses himself from the table, ignoring Natsuo’s raised eyebrow directed at him from the kitchen.

 He stalks to his room, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the questionnaire was over the moment he walked in, and his parents were gone until the evening, so he was set for privacy. It’s not like anyone would willingly want to come into his room unannounced anyways, unless they were looking for a death wish.

 The gloomy black decor around his man-cave suited his mood well, only the dim light of his computer and phone providing him access to witness your whore antics.

 Picture after picture filled the conversation, lacy white lingerie and red silk complimenting your figure well, and his heart speeds up when he sees the slutty expression on your face.

 You were wearing makeup in some pictures, and completely bare-faced in others. Some photos didn’t do justice to your beauty with the naive angles you positioned yourself in, and others quite literally made him gape at your junk in the right places and slender bits along your silhouette.

 In his eyes, it was innocence at its finest. Your honesty at showing all parts of you was mouth watering to Touya, the way you didn’t hide any side of you in such an intimate exchange made him want to sink his teeth into your helpless being and never let go.

 It also made him want to melt Tenko’s skin off his very breakable bones.

 We’re just friends.

 Some friends they were, alright. A slut and a grade-A fuckin’ incel. How the hell did Shimura get a taste of you before he did? He’s your fiance for gods’ sake, that's his right and no one else’s.

 Honestly, he’s disappointed in you right now. For all that talk you gave him earlier today, he didn’t take you as some easy hoe that’d put out for such a creep like Tenko, with just a few sweet words thrown here and there along with some bad pickup lines.

 He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back into the plush mattress, frowning in thought. The sounds of his father banging open the door and his siblings chiming in to greet the old bastard float in and out of his ears as he thinks of what to do with you and Tenko.

 Obviously your guys’ friendship surpassed normal boundaries, regardless of what you both pleaded or believed. Just the fact that Touya fucking Todoroki, son of the Number Two hero, eldest child and heir to a powerful elite family lost first claim of his wife-to-be’s body to some...some withering degenerate is making his heels expel smoke.

 He’s not going to be second place again, not outside his own home too.

 There’s no doubt in his mind that if you truly are all bark and no bite, you’ll find a way to meet up with Tenko behind his back. The pictures he’s seen tonight just proves it's going to take something bigger than a copped feel and a verbal warning to pull you both apart, and Touya is more than ready to take on that challenge.

 A plan begins to form in his mind, one that ensures his fiance and the dirtbag will stay away from each other, even if he needs to push them to interact more initially. Even if he needs to make you desperate to reach out for someone, anyone who’ll come to your aid after he’s through twisting and welding your nerves together.

 Touya falls asleep with one hand in his pants, one hand holding his phone screen up showing your white lingerie.

 Tenko falls asleep for the first time in months without his bony hand down his sweats furiously working his shaft at those pictures you sent months ago. The cum that usually spills out and stains his abdomen is replaced with dread that embeds itself in the pit of his stomach. He knows either Hawks or Dabi has his phone, and he knows what he’s hiding in there isn’t something that would help his claim of being your friend.

 You send a message to Tenko before you sleep, telling him to wait for you in the adjacent empty hallway to the cafeteria after you finish lunch with Touya.

 *************

 “Where the hell were you yesterday? I tried calling and texting you!”

 You indignantly demand, making no effort to move out of Tenko’s way as he tries to gently brush past you to make room for himself on the sidewalk.

 “I, uh, lost my phone and forgot to tell you after school. Sorry.” He says lamely, and you squint your eyes and grip the straps of your backpack even tighter at his half-assed excuse.

 Begrudgingly shifting to accommodate him in the narrow walkway, you both begin to walk to school. The butterflies have risen from the grave of your stomach again, butterflies of dread and gross anticipation at meeting your inky-headed match.

 “Well, did you report it missing?” He scratches his neck softly and grunts in denial. You frown, thinking if it were you then you’d be throwing a racket at your missing phone. Guys are weird.

 “Okay...well, anyways, I texted you about meeting me outside the caf’ when the bell rings for class. I have a feeling Touya’s gonna be stingy about me staying put like the perfect, brainless doll he wants me to be, ugh. So just keep your head down as usual obviously, and I should be out in no time hopefully if I can manage to slip through the crowd. I’m thinking we meet up in the General Studies hall? It’s right there-”

 “-Wait, you texted me all this?” Tenko stops abruptly, red eyes wide with panic.

 You turn to face him, eyebrows raised at his composure. “I mean, yeah? I didn’t know you didn’t have your phone with you, so I’m just telling you now I guess. Why? Do you know if someone took it?”

 He hesitates, unsure of how to cover this up. He already knows either Dumb and/or Dumber has his phone, so no doubt if you truly did text him anything about your plan to meet up with him against Dabi’s specific instructions not to, one of them would already know by now. But he can’t tell you why your plan is now faulty and extremely dangerous.

 Because then he’d have to explain how they got his phone in the first place. One question would lead to another, and then he would have to spill about what they threatened him with, and you would somehow end up getting even more hurt if you found out what went on behind closed curtains.

 “Look,” He finally decides to speak, and rejoins you on your walk to campus, “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk to still hang around me at school if Dabi told you not to. He’s just gonna find out and get even more pissed. I’m used to it, but if you’re gonna be marrying that douche then it’s just gonna screw things up for you even more. We can just meet up after school like always and hang out at your place or something.”

 You pout at his proposition, annoyed that your oh-so-loving finance is weeding his way into your private life...more quickly than you’re comfortable with. Why should you have to sacrifice time away from one of your oldest friends just because of some overgrown, spoiled man-child?

 “Ten, you can’t let them dictate your life forever, okay? Like, I get it, they’re scary as hell and you were right-they’re not afraid to get physical. But it's only the first week of school back, are we really just gonna let them walk all over us? I’m not gonna be some stupid fucking bimbo thats gonna cower every time he flashes his fist at me.” You stamp the ground in frustration, and Tenko keeps quiet, growing more irritated by the second. You might now care about keeping your limbs intact, but he’s already as frail as can be. No sense in begging to get snapped like a twig just because of your suicidal intent.

 “So what exactly do you wanna do? I get how you feel, really I do, but Y/N they’re not talked about around school for no reason. I don’t know how else to explain this to you, no matter how much you want him to know how independent you are, he’s not gonna care.”

 Biting your lip in contemplation, you think on his words. He’s got a point, unfortunately. There’s not much you can actually do apart from run your mouth. Touya’s got the upper hand in every sense.

 But still. You’ll be damned if you wait for him to make the first move like a sitting duck.

 “Whatever,” you bite out. “We’ll just have to be smart about skirting around him. Just try to meet me in an empty hall outside the lunchroom if you can, and we’ll just make sure to stay out of open areas when we walk to class. No biggie. And of course we can still walk together home, right?” 

 “Yeah, sure,” he says, as you two near the school entrance.

 You try not to notice the delay in his answer as you walk through the gates.

 ***********

 Immediately when they spot you in the halls on the way to your homeroom, the trio of girls swarm and bombard you with questions...questions that you already answered with some half-assed, bullshit excuses about how Dabi needed help on homework.

 You guessed they weren’t as airheaded as they all let on.

 “It’s fine, its okay, it was just some stupid misunderstanding we had. We’re okay now, really,” you wave them off while Tenko worries his bottom lip in an attempt to subdue his itching.

 It takes some convincing for your concerned friends to finally leave with a warning of “If you hide anything from us, you’re getting your ass kicked!” and a casual laugh from you before you can head to class.

 “God, I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide the whole arranged marriage thing from them if they’re always gonna be so nosy. Especially when Tou-I mean, Dabi, isn’t exactly hiding his asshole-ness”.

 Tenko mutters in agreement to you, his head low as you both turn the corner into your classroom. He merely takes a step inside before looking up and hissing in panic, tripping backwards over his own feet.

 “Ten, what the hell?” You yelp, narrowly avoiding his skinny frame about to collide into you.

 “Shit, I forgot we changed rooms. And I’m not supposed to be seen with you, they already saw-!” He cowers at the side of the door, eyes wide with panic.

 And you realize too late that he’s right, that his sparse appearance in the doorframe must not have gone unnoticed by the dreaded duo already in class. You can see your seat from the window in the door, and an inky blob of black hair and blond locks not too far from your seat as well.

 “Oh god, fuck, just-just get to class before the bell rings, I’m sure they didn’t see you come in. But go, you’re gonna be late!” You swat him off and he dashes down the hall, throwing you a worried glance as he goes.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever might happen if they indeed saw your figure with Tenko’s. Turning the handle with sweaty palms, you gulp and enter the room.

 “You were almost late, L/N! Let’s try to hurry it up next time and not idly stand outside the classroom with friends, shall we?” Vlad King barks from the front of the room, and you cringe as you internally wonder if the entire school was against you today.

 The room has quieted down significantly as your teacher starts to prepare the whiteboard for today’s lesson. You imitate Tenko’s earlier demeanor by keeping your head low and trying to avoid eye contact with everyone as you make your way to your seat.

 Except, that proves to be quite difficult as you pass by Hawks’ seat, a lean leg casually stretching in a mockery to make you trip. You try to step over it, but unbeknownst to you, a lone red feather darts under your feet as you take a step and lifts you up, causing you to lose your balance and fall drastically to the ground, the contents of your bag strewn across the floor.

 You can barely hear the scattered laughter filling the room, can hardly make out your teacher growling at you to take a seat and stop causing distractions, because the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. The underside of your arms are prickling as you frantically adjust your skewen skirt and try to simultaneously pick up your displaced belongings. Your hands are shaking as they reach for a binder that slid under Dabi’s seat. 

 Bile rises to your throat as a studded black combat boot carefully places itself right on top of the binder. Your violently trembling hands pause midway to reaching for it, and you slowly raise your glassy eyes to meet your tormentor’s.

 You wish you didn’t.

 The way he looks down at your disheveled figure causes your heart to seize and create a giant lump in your throat. His piercing-decorated mouth is pulled back in a jeering grin, thoroughly enjoying the mess his friend created, just for both of their sick amusement.

 Your pleading look does nothing to deter his firm hold on your binder, and you grow increasingly panicked as you hear the lesson start.

 “Let go!” You whisper, eyebrows scrunched together, bottom lip trembling like a baby.

 “Mmmh. Only if you beg like a little bitch.” He doesn’t even look at you straight in the eyes as he murmurs in his gravelly voice, his purple patched hand lazily writing down a few scribbles here and there to take notes.

 It's cruel, almost. The bravado you held up in front of Tenko this morning is completely gone now, a mere facade to show you weren’t going to simply roll over on your back and show your stomach for Dabi. But it seems that’s exactly what he reduces you to, in just a manner of a few simple movements.

 Just like yesterday, when he had you pinned twice at lunch.

 Lunch.

 Oh god.

 You quickly shake your head from its treacherous wanderings, opting to focus on the imminent problem right now instead of combusting from future ones as well.

 “Please, Touya,” you say almost under your breath, leaning in painfully just to make sure your plea fell only on his ears only.

 His lowered lids rove over up and down your body in acknowledgement, letting them settle on your thighs clenched together, hands balled in your lap to prevent from ripping yours and his hair out.

 Leaning back further and lower into his seat, he keeps his lustful gaze trained on your wary, kneeling figure as he subtly starts to palm himself through his jeans. Your jaw drops at his audacity, your mind completely forgetting to try and snatch the binder from his hold as he lightly thrusts up into his open hand. You scuttle backwards in disgust, your face feeling like it's on fire as you do.

 But another trusty red feather slips underneath your skirt as you flail back, and grounds the flat side of its bristles against your clothed clit.

 It's all too much, your hyper awareness and sensitivity to the whole humiliating situation reaching its peak, and you gasp loudly as the scarlet plumage circles itself once around your clit once more and retreats back into its large red home.

 Dabi isn’t the only one palming himself now.

 Once again, the class attention has been brought back to you, pages stopping their movements mid-flip.

 “Y/N L/N, what is going on back there?” Your peeved teacher’s voice booms across the silent room.

 You flinch and try to speak but Dabi beats you to it.

 “She’s distracting me sir, I tried to give her back her binder but she wouldn’t take it for some reason.” He speaks monotony, a hint of feigned confusion so strategically accenting his words.

 “No, no, that’s not what-”

 “-It’s true Mr. King. I saw her get on her knees in front of Dabi while he was trying to take notes.” You’re interrupted again as Hawk’s smooth voice floats above yours, and your face burns with shame at his choice of words as your peers titter around you.

 “If these two men miss today’s notes because of your shenanigans, you will personally be in charge of catching them up and tutoring them on whatever need be.” And with that, he turns around and continues to write nonsense formulas on the board.

 The black binder that caused so much trouble is shoved towards you carelessly, papers slipping out onto the floor as it comes your way. The two demons share a knowing smirk at their fruitful teamwork.

 It’s not even nine in the morning yet, and you want to scream.

*****

It takes less than two minutes to gather everything off the floor and to slink yourself into your seat, cursing the placement of Dumb and Dumber in front and behind you. Brimming with rage, you clench your pen tightly as it skims back and forth across the page, making up for 10 minutes worth of missed notes.

 Not even a full beat of peace is passed before you feel a cool breath against your neck, and you slap a hand against your nape as goosebumps erupt across your skin.

 “So who came into the room with you before class, huh?”

 You honestly should’ve been more scared of his question, but you couldn’t even find the energy to turn around fully and refute his accusation. You merely exhale loudly through your nose, letting him know you were done talking in defense. He chuckles lowly and you can feel the vibrations from the rumble of his throat in such proximity to you.

 “Better keep your pretty little mouth shut, unless you really are into getting degraded by Vlad,” he leans forward, his mouth right next to your ears. You can’t stop the shiver that passes through your body as his tongue slips out to caress the shell of your lobe at the same time his hand reaches down and around your seat, just to pinch the flesh of your ass.

 You jump slightly at the onslaught of sensations and harshly bite your lip to prevent a yelp leaving your mouth. Clenching your pen tighter in your hands is the only thing you can do his touch wanders underneath your skirt, feeling the flesh of your thighs clench together again to ward off his offensive advances, elatedly letting his coarse fingers run in between your cheeks and dip into the crevice of your mound.

 The sound of your quiet whimpers and the sight of your rigid back is enough to send him over the edge.

 He suddenly digs his dull nails into your soft skin, and leans further towards you. You can feel his mouth press against the shell of your ear as he hisses.

 ¨I asked you a question you quirkless whore. Who the fuck came into the classroom before you? Was it that freak again?¨

 ¨L/N, can you answer the question up on the board please?¨ Your teacher´s voice rings out from the front of the room, and you and your bully both jump at the intrusion.

 The board in question has a jumble of words and numbers written on it, and in your frantic stupor none of it makes sense to you. But you know if you’r

e caught slacking off again, you might get written up.

 ¨Uh, l-let me check my notes really quick, sorry,” you mutter as you desperately flip through your notebook pages.

 ¨Actually sir, I think I can help Y/N out.¨ Unexpectedly, Hawkś buttery voice chimes in, much to your relief. He answers the question flawlessly, and even your teacher nods his head impressively.

 You might´ve even said a thank you to him if he hadn't turned his head at the side just for you to see him lick a long stripe up a certain feather, the corners of his lips turning up into a sickly sweet smile.

 You feel queasy.

 Dabiś fingers strategically resume their ministrations again to gain your attention as they trail down into the junction of your mound, lower and lower until the pads of his stitched fingers rest on top of your clothed clit.

 You jerk slightly and shoot a hand down underneath your desk to stop him from moving, but the second your palm wraps around his wrist his fingers press deeper against your nub.

 Fuck.

 You know what he wants, so you answer him just to end this torture.

 ¨I don't know who you saw walking with me, but if you're referring to Tenko, then he went to his class. Try not to make it so obvious that you´re jealous or insecure of him, it's pretty pathetic. I mean damn, you´re even starting to see visions of him around the school? Maybe you like him more than I do!¨ He scoffs under his breath but you can feel the temperature around you both rise up.

 Successfully managing to yank his paused hand away from you, you throw his wrist backwards toward him, savagely relishing in his stunned silence, no doubt.

 Without turning around, you end him on a good note.

 ¨Didn't realize you were into ‘weak nobodies’, Touya. Who's the freak now?¨ You don't personally believe such a vile notion, but you hope know itĺl be enough to shut his fragile ego up for now.

 It does.

 He doesn't touch or talk to you the rest of class, much to your satisfaction.

 You don't smell the burning of a certain someone's foot in youropen bag, all your hard work from notes to projects going up in literal tiny flames.

 ***********************

 The bell dings, and you waste no time shoving your binder into your bag, failing to notice little flecks of ashes billowing in the air when the belongings go into the scorched fabric. You yank both straps onto your shoulders and immediately start to get up, but are promptly stopped when two figures swarm you and force you back into your seat.

 ¨Where you runnin’ off to cutie? Don´t tell me you forgot to have lunch with your fiance?¨ Hawks shakes his head mockingly, tutting in disapproval.

 ¨Yeah, I mean, she obviously thinks I´m into her little boyfriend, so I guess I'll just have to sit with her to demonstrate how I'm into women.¨ Dabi sneers, towering over your seated figure.

 You blanch, regretting your outburst from earlier, knowing that he was going to make you pay for it.

 ***********

 Tenko slinks off into the courtyard to look for any possible signs of his phone around the same time Hawks and Dabi are leading you through the more deserted halls towards the cafeteria, their arms thrown over both sides of your shoulder, vile words and innuendos bordering on threats hissed into your ears.

 He knows it wouldn´t do any good for your safety if he went off trying to spot you amongst the crowds, and frankly, he didn't really want to. Especially not when he knew who you were probably with.

 Sitting with Miruko, Takeyama and Kamiji was a no-go, they would all be uncomfortable with his unsettling appearance there without you as everyone´s middleman. Maybe he could find Atsuhiro? Or even Iguchi? Surely he could find them and they could all converse about the latest game that came out, as they usually did.

 Somehow he manages to make his way into the crowded commons being invisible to most had its benefits sometimes, especially when being shoved forwards as if he's not there gets him forwards faster and looks around the massive room for the other two social outcasts.

 Lo and behold, he spots them towards the back of the mess hall, where most of the trash cans were placed.

 Typical.

 Iguchi unsurprisingly has his reptilian snout pressed into his console, his long talons clacking away at the buttons. It's a miracle he doesn’t rip the thing to shreds with how fast his fingers move. Atsuhiro is fiddling with his precious marbles on the stained table, shooting them at each other just to frantically put them back in their original place before they can fall off the table.

 Tenko clears his throat, moves his hood slightly off his head and makes his way to them.

 ¨Hey guys,¨ he mutters as he reaches their table. They both look up and squint at him, breaking out of their dazes as they try to register him. Feigning a roll of his eyes, Tenko brushes the wiry bangs away from his face so they can get a good look at him.

 ¨Aahh, Tenko Shimura! Our old friend, have a seat, have a seat!¨ Atsuhiro claps his hands loudly, and Tenko cringes as people from other tables turn around to glare at the commotion. He can understand why the brunette was an outcast like him- he talked weird, like he was from olden times, and he thought life was a grand play. Minor criticisms, but it was enough to be deemed offensive in their school, enough for his ass to be kicked all the way to the back of the cafeteria, marinating in the dumpster stenches.

 Quickly trying to avoid a bigger scene, the pale glaucous haired boy slides into a seat across from the two and nods at the lizard boy.

 ¨Iguchi,¨ He acknowledges, and the hybrid lifts his eyes for a second from the screen and curls his lips in his own greeting.

 ¨How´ve you been Shimura? Haven't seen you in a while, usually you´re hanging out with L/N, right?¨

 Tenko scratches his neck and feels skin pile up under his nails.

 ¨Yeah, she um...I think she wanted to sit with some of her own friends today.¨

 ¨I thought you two hung out with the same people-¨ ¨So what game´re you playing? Is that the one that just came out?¨ He interrupts Iguchi, trying to avert the conversation away from you. The less eyebrows raised, the safer you both would be.

 They talk about the latest games and consoles, grades and classes. It feels nice, honestly. Even if he's not as well known and presentable as you, he gets to bask in things he actually is passionate about. Not that you ignore his own hobbies, but it gets tiring after a while to talk about facials and hero work, girl stuff that he just never really understands. You act like a protector to him, and he appreciates it, he really does, but...sometimes it feels like he's more of a show dog, and not the cute kind. A kicked puppy-no, charity work is a more accurate representation of what he feels like when he sees the not-so-subtle sympathetic looks your friends throw at you when they think he's not looking.

 Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you do too. But sometimes it's hard to see past that aged love when, as Iguchi basically stated, his friends are your friends.

 Funny thing is, he has no real friends apart from you.

Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you know.

 It's been hard to remember that constant love when Dabi and Hawks have been making his life a living hell, especially now when they know you´re so protective of him.

 It´s hard to remember that love when you insist on putting the two of you in actual danger, just to walk down a stupid hallway together. 

 But he supposes he can't blame you all the way. He guesses maybe it's mommy issues from a younger age around the time he met you. It's the way he could cry into your shoulder after his father would beat him black and blue, it's the way you would rub his back soothingly and shush his cries, never really understanding why he was so upset in the first place but still doing your best to be there for him.

 His father had sent his sister away overseas to some private school to better her education, so he truly was alone with his batshit crazy family situation. You provided him with unrequited love from an early age on, you were his safe haven, his sanctuary of sorts. It was true, you really were the only one who understood why he acted the way he did and you accepted him for it.

 He supposes he should feel more grateful to you, but like how every child is supposed to fly the coop and become independent, you had unknowingly trimmed his already-deteriorating wings and tethered him back to your welcoming, warm embrace.

 You had ruined him

 Almost a half hour went by between the three boys, discussing a wide range of topics, and for the first time in a while, Tenko was actually comforted by another guys’ presence. He wasn't worrying about shielding his body from ammunition, or keeping his greasy bangs in front of his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet anyone´s judgemental gaze.

 ¨Hey man, you should come over one day. I got a couple of GTA discs we can try out, or COD if that's more your thing,¨ Iguchi offers, reaching his clawed hand out. ¨Why don't we all exchange numbers?¨

 ¨Y-yeah, that sounds great! Hold on, lemme get my ph-¨

 But his excitement was cut short, when his hand patted empty pockets.

 Oh.

 He almost forgot.

 ¨Uhm, sorry, I kinda lost my phone yesterday. Maybe you guys could just write your numbers down here or something,¨ And he fished around his bag for an empty paper, pushing it across the dirty table to them. They didn't seem to mind-they promptly wrote down their digits in chicken scratch writing.

 ¨Got any trash?¨ He stands up, plucking a few plastic wrappers off his seat and extending his courtesy to them. They wave him off and he shrugs, making his way behind them towards the giant dumpsters.

 The second he drops the scraps into the bin, some force shoves him face first into the reeking cesspool of school lunches. He grabs the edge of the bin in a split second, ignoring the slimy substances he feels underneath his palms and whips around for the source of the assault.

 All he sees behind him is a retreating figure, with blond locks swaying with every sauntered step he takes away from the frazzled target.

 His phone wasn't as far as he thought it was.

 In fact, if he had the balls to follow the winged boy back to his table, he would've surely discovered his beat up phone case held captive in Hawks´s open bag. He would´ve also seen both boys keeping a miserable girl sandwiched between them.

 Tenko would´ve seen all of that from a distance, but you were there in your own skin, fighting the urge to rip out a certain purple-burned aggravator´s staples, and preventing yourself from diving into your burned backpack, pulling out a nasty pair of scissors and giving a special birdbrain´s wings a well-needed cut.

 ¨Why so quiet sweetheart? Nothing bitchy to say now?¨ Dabi seethes in your ear as he busies a hand in pinching the soft flesh of your thighs, a 2.0 to your torment in the classroom.

 ¨No,¨ you gripe, trying to finish your spring rolls. A feather plucks the roll from midair as you lift it towards your mouth, and redirects it into its owner's mouth.

 ¨Mmm, Dabi, your bitch can cook right. You should've told me my sister-in-law was such a domestic homebody, I would´ve defended her from your evil clutches sooner,¨ Hawks chuckles with a mouth full of food. His arm is draped over your shoulders, fingers dangling oh-so-close to your chest. Shoving them off even in the hallway proved to be futile after they both used their respective quirks into silencing you every time a teacher walked by and you attempted to open your mouth in a plea of help.

 ¨I´m not his fucking bitch, you brainless pigeon,¨ and even though you know you can´t fully move with how close their proximity is, you still try and push them off.

 But Dabi is having none of it, igniting his fingers on your thighs as his counterpart cooes at your irate state. Ignoring your gasps and writhes, he doesn't give a moment to prep you as he fully shoves his hand down your panties, your skirt bunching up further up your legs when he does. 

 You give him a desperate look, and he merely gives you a sneer in retaliation.

 ¨Where did you learn to talk like that? That shit´s not gonna fly with me when I put a ring on it, bitch. If I hear you mouthing off like that again I'll personally make sure there's a better use for that slutty hole,¨ and at that his fingers start moving and heating up again, Hawk´s arm forearm tightening around you to prevent you from making a scene while the ravanette circles calloused digits around your wet nub.

 He leans closer to your ear, and the rings adorning his lips feel cold against your skin. On the other side of you, the blond is smiling knowingly down at you, brushing his thumb against your neck. 

 You jerk as Dabi breathes into your ear, ¨But something tells me you wouldn't mind that too much. I mean if you´re not exactly screaming for help right now then I guess you must want this as much as I do. Fucking whore.¨

 You shake visibly at the strength Hawks is using to counter your escape attempts, Dabi´s fingers tweaking your clit hard every time you jerk your body to the side.

 ¨No, no, what the hell? I don't want this, I don't want anyone to see me like this-!¨

 ¨Oh, is that what it is? Even so, I'm sure you remember our little talk the day before, right? About me laying off your friend, if you just take it like a good slut. Don´t think I haven´t forgotten about him, Y/N.¨

 And then you still. Because of all the emotions running through your frantic head right now, you keep Tenko above all the other bullshit. He doesn't deserve your share of hell, he's already gotten his fill.

 Red silk and lace cloud Touya´s mind.

 ¨We´re just friends¨.

 ¨That's a good girl,” your fiance whispers, kissing your outer ear and laving his tongue across the rim of it. You whine quietly and try to draw further into yourself-which is miraculously allowed by the blond as Dabi tugs you closer into his black shirt, his fingers down your skirt and teasing your slick entrance.

 The Hawks watches you shamelessly, playing with a stray feather between his hands as Dabi descends his mouth to your neck, nipping you lightly and then harder when you squirm.

 Your seating position is most unfortunate, the boys having picked an area that most teachers don't pass through on account of other delinquents settling in as well. No one would bother them here, just passing it off as PDA that the rest of them have no shame in showing either.

 ¨Oh! I haven't asked about your family yet. That's what good fiances do, right Keigo?¨ Dabi exclaims suddenly, lifting his head to give the amused blond a knowing look. Hawks hums in assent, eager to see how much more you could take of their special attention. 

 ¨So did your mom ask how her beloved son-in-law is doing? You told her all about our quality time together?¨ His other hand creeps beneath your shirt, your stomach muscles clenching painfully tight at his unwanted contact.

 ¨Did daddy ask how I’m treating his precious little girl?¨

 You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut as your bra is moved up, fingers trailing upwards towards your nipple. Hawks´ eyes are glinting as he watches in silence, his pupils dilated at the scene in front of him.

 ¨Or, actually, maybe save that nickname for me. I'd love to be the first to break it to him that his princess has a new daddy, a better one who broke her faster than he ever could.¨

 A sob builds up in your throat. There´s 15 minutes left of lunch.

 ¨Maybe after we get married, we can just crash at your place,¨ he hides his mouth behind your hair, but you and Hawks can hear his low gravelly voice as he murmurs, ¨So they can hear me fuck the living daylights out of their precious baby girl...make sure you´re loud too, ´wanna let them know you´re a woman now. A married woman who´s gonna slave away for her husband, down on her hands and knees like she's supposed to-

 Ding ding ding

 His phone goes off, pausing him from his vile monologue.

 You exhale in relief when he growls under his breath at the interruption, reaching for the offensive device.

 But instead of pressing the decline button after seeing the screen, his face goes slack and pales tremendously.

 His hands retreat from their perverse activities underneath your clothes, and you turn to him fully surprised now. You try to lean over to see the caller ID, but your less-than-pleased fiance actually shoves you off of him, right into Hawks (who thankfully catches you).

 You look up at him who seems equally bewildered, and then at Dabi who holds the phone to his ear.

 He gulps and clears his throat before he speaks.

 ¨Hello?¨ It still holds his raspy tone, but you can't detect his usual snarkiness.

 There´s a pause as he listens, and then he gets up from the table and walks away without so much as a second glance to the both of you.

 Hawks, being a guy who's too fast and too smart for his own good, already has an inkling as to who could emit such a reaction from the arsonist.

 A wandering feather that brushes against your leg jerks you out of your stupor, and you flinch away from the warm body that caught you.

 He laughs a real laugh this time, not one with any malice or with undertones of perverseness in it as you scuttle back to the other side of the short table. You glower at the floor as he rests his elbow on the table, cheek in his hand. He tilts his head at you, very birdlike and for a moment in his open eyes, you can understand why Mirko likes him so much.

 But fuck if he wasn´t a total scumbag on the inside.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, you know I don´t bite. We just wanna mess with ya´, it's cute seeing you get all nervous and shy. I gotta admit, it's a nice change from your, ah, colorful language.¨

 Your head whips up to face him, and you let out a short, humorless laugh at his audacity.

 ¨Mess with me? Hawks, you guys are fucking assaulting me. It's not funny or cute, and I know your little innocent act is complete bullshit. I know what you guys do to Tenko, and the fact that you don't even stop Tou- I mean, Dabi from it shows you´re just as bad as him!¨ You bang your fist on the table, acting out now since the worst one out of the duo is out of commission for the time being.

 But instead of narrowing his eyes and shooting feathers at you to shut you up, he merely smiles wider and shrugs in indifference, never taking his eyes off of you.

 It's hard not to gape at him. What kind of world was he living in, where none of this had any effect on him? All this-this bullying and torment was just fun jests for him.

 But you know it's less pure with your betrothed. You know with him, it's some fucked up power-play, a show of dominance that you want no part in.

 You can't help but toss a glance to where he was now, 20 feet away and speaking intensely into the speaker.

 ¨You know, if you stopped fighting him and just gave in it would be a lot easier for you. He likes putting you down and getting a reaction out of you.¨

You don't tear your gaze away from Dabi, so you don't see Hawks lean in and take advantage of your distracted focus.

 ¨He gets off on it.¨

 His velvety voice rumbles right next to you, and you whip around and slap a hand over your ear as a shiver simultaneously passes through your body. He doesn't move, however, but merely leans back and throws an arm over the back of your seat, grinning like a madman.

 ¨See, this is exactly why I´m not giving in yet. What the fuck is wrong with you both? How could you think something so fucked up is funny? No wonder you both give Tenko hell-¨

You clamp a hand over your mouth, forgetting in your rage not to mention the taboo name. Your eyes search gold ones for any sign of similar hate that you find in cerulean orbs, but there is none.

 All he does is raise an eyebrow and strain his smile a little.

 ¨Between you and me, sweet thing, it really is in your best interest not to mention Shimura´s name around Dabi. I don't really know why he's got it out for that dude, but it doesn't really help Dabi calm down when his wife-to-be is prancing hand-in-hand around school with him.¨ Your lip curls in discontentment, and you feign a scowl at Hawks´ words.

 ¨Why does he even care? It shouldn't matter who I hang out with, it's not like I'm cheating on Dabi or anything. Besides, he doesn't even like me, he just wants some girl he can ruin.¨

 A few moments of silence pass, and then he speaks. What he says makes your heart seize up, and the butterflies kick in again, much to your disappointment.

 ¨Is that what you think? Man, you both have a long way to go, then.¨ You want to ask what he means, but you´re unfortunately interrupted when a very unwanted lanky figure plops next to you, jostling you to move over.

 ¨ ´Just had something to take care of,¨ is all Dabi offers as he starts packing up his stuff from the table.

 ¨Who was it? Was that your dad?¨ Hawks presses.

 Dabi´s eye twitches.

 ¨Yeah. ‘Was calling about some stupid assignment I failed, giving me shit about it.¨

 ¨He usually doesn't call you at school,¨ is followed by a raised gold eyebrow.

 ¨I know. I was actually almost excited for once-¨ Dabi laughs bitterly, and you just listen with your head down, utterly confused. What was the deal between him and his dad?

 And just in time, the bell for dismissal rings.

 Thank god.

 You silently pack your belongings as well, hoping that this time you could slip out and actually see Tenko for a couple of minutes if he was waiting for you like you told him to, but as usual, your beloved fiance intervened.

 ¨You´re always rushing off when the bell rings, doll. Where are you going in such a hurry? I hope our company didn´t make you uncomfortable or anything,¨ he snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in tight, leering at you.

 ¨I just don't want you guys getting me late for class,¨ you mutter, avoiding his lecherous gaze.

 ¨You sure no one's waiting for you out there? Maybe we could both go and say hi to whoever´s taking up all your time-¨

 ¨Uh, no no! That's okay, I really was just making sure I wasn't late. We can go to class together though, no worries.¨ You quickly grab onto his jacket sleeve and look at him with big eyes and a little smile in a shameless, desperate attempt to deter an inevitable bloodbath.

 He raises his eyebrows at your volume and the way you clutch at him while simultaneously quelling the blush that creeps onto his face and the smoke that was comically coming out of his ears. If his fiance was throwing herself at him for the first time, then who was he to reject her?

 ¨Alright, let's go then,¨ he steers you out towards the entrance of the cafeteria, and you force your legs from grounding themselves and running in the opposite direction of where he was taking you. 

 You feel him squeeze you tighter, and you raise your head at him, startled to find him already looking you over with a strangely soft expression. It wasn't anything deemed romantic for sure, but it was a lot different than his usual sneers and scowls. Your stomach does somersaults at this new expression that was privy for your eyes only, his piercing blue eyes rendering you speechless.

 He looks so much better when his mouth is closed, and his eyes do the talking instead.

 However, Dabi does in fact open his mouth, not to spew venom, but to say something that makes your heart beat even faster.

 ¨Yḱnow, all jokes aside, you weren't too annoying at lunch. Maybe it's ´cause you kept your fat mouth shut with a shit ton of food, but you were pretty tolerable.¨ you quietly scoff at his backhanded compliment as you both exit the hall, Hawks trailing a couple feet behind you, both sides of his shoulders clutched by fangirls who seemingly spawned out of nowhere.

 ¨I´d say the same to you if you weren't feeling me up every five seconds and mouthing off like a-¨

¨-But, yeah, thanks for actually sitting with me. I really would like it if we did this more often,¨ he murmurs so quietly that you´d think he was talking to himself. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze squinted as he navigates through the crowded and loud hallway. 

 You want to point out that technically he wasn't really giving you a choice of where to sit when he threatened you like earlier, but something in you tells you to stay quiet as he maneuveres your body around so that no other student would bump into you by accident.

 A sense of whiplash comes over you at that moment. Only a mere couple of minutes before he was calling you his bitch and terrorizing you, but now with that soft gleam in his eyes and the confession he was giving you, it feels like it was only you two at the moment regardless of the massive crowd swarming around.

 If Hawks was a little closer within earshot, you have a feeling that Dabi would be acting very differently, no doubt. But nevertheless, you swallow your apprehension and acknowledge his different aura.

 ¨Sure, Touya. We can sit together more often...as long as you lay off the handsy part, we haven't gotten there yet. We've barely been able to have decent conversations, but I´ll try if you try too.¨ While you say that, you subtly try to look around for Tenko but find it hard as Dabi maintains eye contact with you and pulls you along the school. You glumly give up as you both turn the corner to where the classes were.

 He ignores everything else you say, solely cherry picking where you said his real name, again. Dabi didn't particularly care for all the other bullshit you uttered, but he shuddered when you stroked a thumb against his hand. He was glad that their plus one had opted to not be in their faces at the moment, because it was nice for once to say something relatively normal to you. Because in the end, he might be a menace but he wasn't delusional. He really could see you as his wife, not just on her hands and knees like he had purred about earlier, but actually as someone who could offer him a new, better life than the one he had at his own home.

 He saw it in the way you gazed so softly at Tenko, saw it in the way your voice lilted higher and in the way you softly pull his scratching hand away from his marred skin

 The way your lips puckered as your mouth invited another bite of food made his chest ache with a weird feeling he couldn't quite place a stitched finger on. The scowl you gave him and Hawks both when you sensed they were about to fuck with you more made him want you in a way that he had never wanted anyone so close before. He wanted to be the reason your scowl would eventually turn into a smile, but for the meantime he knew he couldn't refrain from seeing fear and panic in your eyes. You were cute, with a body and a smart mouth to match. Dabi guessed that you were also taken aback by his sudden intimate gestures, and he couldn't help himself to hope that you had a slight inkling of what your presence was slowly starting to do to him.

 But if you thought that you had newfound leverage on him, or thought that he was wrapped around your finger by a small sentence he said, then you were more stupid than he was givng you credit for.

 Because the second you bit your lip and looked away after touching his hand lightly, he turned his head back and made eye contact with Hawks, giving him a knowing look.

 Hawks´ wings flex as he gives a cheshire grin to his counterpart, letting him know he already knew what to do.

 ¨Sorry girls, ´gotta head to class, can´t let my grades fall. I´ll catch you two later, yeah?¨

 He is met with simpering ¨yeah, sure!¨´s and ¨of course, text me though!¨ as they sashay away.

 ¨Definitely,¨ He chuckles, running a hand through his floppy hair.

 As if he would be caught dead texting Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

 But anyways, back to business.

 He cracks his knuckles and stretches above his head, letting out a satisfied groan as he leisurely pulls out a phone. It takes some scrolling before finding the message, and bingo, he finds the right hallway adjacent to the cafeteria after backtracking his steps a bit.

 Lo and behold, who was already there? That's right, none other than Tenko Shit-mura. Hawks´ eyebrow raises as he sends a quick message from Tenko´s phone, and pockets the device.

 ¨You´ve got balls, I´ll give you that.¨ Tenko whips around in horror as he puts the voice together with the person. His thumbs overlap each other and alternate to scratch at his scabbed arms and neck. It's something near a miracle to Hawks as he can't fathom why a girl of your stature would hang around with this degenerate. Sure, he himself had girls sucking his dick in every crevice of the school and outside, but at least he had a name for himself, and a reputation befitting of a god´s.

 This thing?

 ¨Oh, h-hey Hawks,¨ and the unamused blond curls his lip in disgust as Tenko´s wavering words were almost drowned out by the sound of vigorous scratching. ¨I was just waiting for Iguchi-¨

 ¨-And Atsuhiro, right? Funny, they left the caf´ at the same time you did, so why exactly are you here?¨ He smirks and folds his arms, leaning on the lockers.

 It was borderline hysterical how white Tenko´s face went, and Hawks distantly wonders how much whiter could his face go before real blood and veins were visible behind the mess of scarred facial features.

 Poor Tenko stammers and stutters over his words trying to find a good enough reason as to why he was lingering there, but he needn't worry so much, because unfortunately for him, Hawks knows exactly why.

 He holds up Tenko´s phone casually and grins at his ashen face as if they were old buddies.

 ¨Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with other people´s toys?¨ Tenko makes a quick swipe at the phone suspended in midair, but only succeeds in getting sliced by a few directed feathers.

 He groans and clutches his now bleeding stomach, holding up a hand to see a thin line of red adorning his cracked skin.

 Hawks shrugs as if nothing had happened, and cocks his head at his victim. ¨I decided, if you can't learn to keep your nose out of other people's things then I have every right to keep yours.¨

 ¨Give it back man, I don´t know what your deal is, but if this is about Y/N then I swear I haven't been anywhere near her.¨ Tenko looks at him desperately and Hawks chuckles lightly, making the other´s heart sink.

 ¨Yeah, you have. You might be just as gross and sly as Dabi is, but you´re not smarter than me.¨ He waves the device in his snug hand. ¨She might just see you as her friend, but we both know you want her more than that.¨ Tenko loves you.

 ¨In my opinion, she looked better in red.¨ His steel colored head snaps to see his phone screen showing the messages he was so afraid of them finding out about.

 ¨That's not fair, that was so long ago, way before Y/N even knew Dabi.¨ ¨You think that's gonna matter to him?¨ He pushes himself off the wall and advances with his hands in his pockets towards Tenko, who is now frantically scrabbling back on all fours like a mutt. 

 ¨The fact that it even happened is a given that you´re a dead fucker now, Shimura. And don't think I don't see you two running around in the hallways trying to avoid me and Dabi, he sees all that too, y´know. We've both got eyes around the school.¨ He crouches in front of Tenko, and his grin turns ugly into a sneer when the shit-stain on the floor flinches and raises his hands up as if he were about to be hit.

 ¨Why does Dabi care so much about me and her? She´s gonna be married to him, not me. He gets her officially, not me.¨ Tenko says rather bitterly, in Hawks´ opinion.

 ¨He hates how close you are to her. He's jealous, simply put, at how well you know her, how you make her smile and put her at ease. It drives him crazy that some social reject like you has seen her body and the best and worst parts of her before he has, and that's why he lashes out at her. These pictures just prove to him that you need to be removed from the scene. Permanently.¨

 ¨Okay, I get that, but then why are you so involved with it? What are you even getting out of snitching for him?¨ Hawks´s eyes glint and darken, sending a sinister shiver down Tenko´s back. He licks his lips and leans close, giving a confession of his own.

 ¨´Cause if your guys´ shared whore screws up again, I might get a taste of her too. Personally, I couldn't care less about Dabi´s heart, but I wanna see why this girl is worth all this trouble.¨ The fallen soldier recoils slightly at his implication.

 Tenko forces himself to take deep breaths and to stop his shaking. He needs to get his phone back and go to the nurse before anyone sees this scene.

 ¨Just give me my phone back dude, please,¨ He hisses desperately, outstretching a gnarled hand.

 Hawks studies him for a moment. He was almost disappointed in Dabi that the flame user was so butt-hurt about this pathetic sack of bones being closer to his girl than he was.

 But that's what he gets when he holds onto a shred of hope that someone could be a candle to his everlasting flames.

 ¨Here,¨ and he takes momentary mercy on Tenko, tossing his phone on the ground in front of him.

 He starts walking away, wings ruffling with foreboding anticipation as he pulls out his own phone to send a message to the man of the hour.

 But before he does, he calls out over his shoulder a warning to the boy on the ground.

 ¨If you see her again, you won't be the only one getting buried that day¨.

 Tenko scratches his neck.

 *************

Ashtray: Was he there?

 2:00 pm: Yup, you were right. Guess they never learn, huh?

 Ashtray: Whatever, I have her phone and I just sent him the message. Send me a feather so I can send it back to her class

 2:01 pm: You deleted the message right?

 Ashtray: Obviously. You too?

 2:01 pm: Yeah, did it as soon as I saw him standing there

 Ashtray: Good. Make sure the area is clear after school

     Call Kai over too, I'm gonna need him when I'm preoccupied

 And unbeknownst to you, a velvet feather was indeed carrying a small cellular device on its back, weaving in and out of empty hallways to find your designated classroom.

 The silent plumage floats stealthily through the slightly ajar door and makes sure to stay low to the ground as it approaches your desk. Luckily there's an opening in your bag, so it quietly drops your phone inside while you tediously take notes.

 It can't help itself when your legs cross over themselves; you look so unassuming and innocent that it just has to get a quick taste. The feather travels up the expanse of your leg up to your inner thigh, and gently brushes against you, laying some pressure on it as well.

 From his own classroom, Hawks shivers in sickening pleasure when he senses the vibration of your gasp and the quickening of your heartbeat as you jolt and look underneath your desk.

 But you find nothing, the feather already having been directed to whizz out of the room and back to its owner.

 ¨What the hell,¨ you mutter to yourself as you brush the crawling feeling off your skin. You glance at your bag for a second, and then do a double take when you see the screen of your phone glowing.

 After taking a quick glance at your preoccupied teacher, you reach for the device and squint at the notification that shows on your lockscreen.

 One new message from Ten-ten.

 Ten-ten: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 Your brows crease in concern and you tap a message back to him.

 2:05: Are you okay? What happened?

 2:07: Where were you today after lunch? I didn't see you outside the lunchroom

2:06: And when did you get your phone back?

 2:10: Hello?

 And from across the school, Tenko is trudging away from the nurse's office back to his own classroom, frowning at your message as well.

 Y/N: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent

 He sighs and drags a gnarled hand down his weary face, stopping his fingers under his jaw to dig his nails into the thin flesh.

 2:06: We can't meet up again at school, Dabi and Hawks are gonna kill both of us

 2:08: I´m serious

 He's in his classroom now, and his unease has merely grown. You were usually so good at texting him back promptly, what´s wrong now?

 Biting a fingernail, he hesitates before using his other free hand to type some more.

 2:10: You okay?

 Almost 30 minutes pass, and Dabi is counting each second in anticipation.

 *********************

The sounding chime of the school bell causes Shimura to stop his periodic scratching and leg-bouncing, instead opting to shoot up out of his seat and bound out the classroom to where you said you were.

 Anxiety clouds over and erases all rational thought from his disturbed mind when he thinks of your lack of response.

 Were you mad at him? Were you safe?

 A stronger man with more self control would have resisted from going to check up on the girl that caused so much trouble for him, but Tenko was not a strong man. He was weak, and soft-willed, and if he was already getting the life beat out of him any other day because of his weakness, then what would one more catalyst be?

 His bony figure is ricocheted off various bodies as he bolts down the halls towards the back of the school, looks of disgust thrown his way and noses scrunched as he mutters occasionally, ¨Sorry, excuse me¨ and ¨My bad, I´m sorry¨. It doesn't deter him, he's used to the disdain by now and with the thought of you in mind he finally reaches the back of the Quirk Training facility, shoving through the double doors.

 Muted sunlight peeks through the large trees that loom over the area, the sky already turning a russet color in the beginning of its descent. He looks around wildly for you, and then he finally spots you in all your oblivious glory standing at the edge of the fence, your face slightly covered from the large sakura branches winding over the mesh.

 Tenko releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, and starts approaching you.

 You´re playing with the vines growing on the fence, but you turn around when you hear footsteps coming near.

 ¨Hey! What´s up?¨

 ¨I could ask you the same thing,¨ he says warily, looking you up and down to make sure you seemed unscathed. ¨What's going on? Why haven't you been answering any of my texts?¨

 You raise an eyebrow and laugh a little, thinking that he was messing with you.

 ¨Huh? You´re the one who called me here. And you didn't send any messages to me, look.¨ He grabs the phone that you thrust in his face, scratching lighty at his collarbones.

 You gently swat his hand away and watch as he thumbs through your chat log.

 His own brows furrow and he looks at you weirdly as he produces his own device, flipping the screen around and showing you the many messages he sent not too long ago.

 You squint at the blue light and look back up at him, mouth agape.

 ¨Wait, so you didn't call me here? I tried texting you too, but I didn't get an answer. I just thought you were busy or something.¨

¨Look, I don't know what's going on here, but we need to leave,¨ He says anxiously as he grabs your arm and starts to pull you around the corner. ¨This is weird, I don't like it-¨

 ¨Hold it you two.¨

 You both freeze, ice flooding through both your systems as you recognize the lazy voice.

 Slowly, you turn your head to face the last person you wanted to see in this state.

 Hawks is leaning casually against the brick wall, wings flared out to their fullest extent. Next to him is a new guy you´ve never seen before, a brunette with gold eyes like Hawks´ and a black beak mask to match. His hands are clad in white gloves, and he periodically keeps checking the watch on his pale wrist as if he has somewhere to be. 

 He's surrounded by cronies, tattoos covering the expanse of their bulky arms and baseball bats along with guns strapped over their heads or twiddling through their fingers.

 You think you´re going to throw up.

 Dabi is the first to speak, his guttural voice cutting through the thick, tense air like a serrated rusted knife.

 ¨Well, shit doll. I didn't think I'd have to break my future house slut so quickly.¨

 ¨Dabi, wait, there's been a misunderstanding-¨ ¨-And you,¨ he draws on as if you hadn't spoken. You tried to catch his eye but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you, instead going for drilling invisible holes through Tenko´s head.

 If you had asked him, he was granting you mercy and your last shred of dignity by not letting you continue speaking, before he viciously strips it away from you. He feels as though if he hears your voice right now, the entire pavilion will go up in flames, including the chicken bastard and the Shie Hassaiki members.

 He stuffs his inflamed palms into his fire-deterrent pants to quell his unbridled rage. To anyone else he seemed at sick ease in having the upper hand, but in all honesty, Dabi would be lying if he said he really did wish you would have passed his test and not met with Tenko.

 ¨You´ve got a lot of balls to be talking to my bitch for such a dickless wonder. I thought after beating it into your skull for a couple of years that you'd understand where your place is.¨

 Out of the corner of your eye, a massive wooden bat swings towards Tenko and smashes against his head with a sickening thud.

 They must have surrounded you from the other side of the building too when you both were distracted.

 You scream so loudly you can feel your vocal cords vibrating in your throat. Everything seems to move ten times faster as you´re suddenly yanked back by invisible feathers, and dragged almost 15 feet away from Tenko´s unmoving body right into Dabi´s cruel embrace. 

 He harshly spins you around and shakes you like a ragdoll, staring you straight in your horrified eyes.

 ¨I told you not to hang around him, right? Well, if you don´t wanna listen to me, then at least listen to the beautiful sounds of your precious boy toy getting his skull bashed in.¨

And with that he spins you around again, a vice-like grip on your arms as he traps you against his hard body. You´re faced with front-row seats to watch the nauseating scene of Tenko indeed getting beaten to a pulp.

 ¨I´m going to make you fucking regret it,¨ He hisses in your ear, but you´re so dizzy with blood and teeth littering the ground filling your vision that you can´t even move.

 You vaguely hear Hawks tsk next to you, leaning against the wall and stretching his wings as if he had better places to be. As if watching a kid getting beaten half to death was something he saw every day.

 Grunts and jeering comments come from the large tattooed boys while they rain blow after blow on Tenko´s shuddering body. You can't even comprehend what kind of pain he´s in from the inhumane shrieks that come out of him. It was mesmerizingly terrifying how a human being could make sounds like the ones he was making, ranging from low wails of pleading mercy to high pitched cries of pain when they began kicking him.

 Feet pound on his back, crushing his paper-thin skin against the gravel, causing it to rip and tear,allowing rivers of blood to pool around his form. Now-cracked baseball bats become dented as they explode down on his head, and you distantly wonder how he's still alive with bits of hair and membrane clinging to the wood.

Your best friend flinches every time contact is made with his body; his fingers are curled and raised above his head to protect himself, and you think you can make out his chest puffing in and out a mile a minute. He might be having a panic attack, you´re not sure and you want to run to him, but the loud ringing in your head and the tears that cascade down your face are indications that you know you´re utterly trapped right now. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

 ¨Stop,¨ you croak from the confines of Dabi´s arms, clawing at his jacket. ¨Please, stop, you're killing him.¨

 Dabi releases an arm to tap on his chin in mocking contemplation. ¨Hmm...tempting, but no thanks doll. This is supposed to be a lesson, not a freebie.¨ ¨Are we done from here?¨ A nasaly bored voice emerges from the background laughs and screams. The brunette with the beak-mask is standing a little away from Hawks, sighing and rolling his eyes.

 Is everyone here excluding you and Tenko a psychopath? How does Dabi even know them?

Not that you could say you were surprised, however. A man cruel enough to execute something like this surely has a heart blacker than coal.

 ¨Dabi, please!¨ you sob hysterically now, the pained noises coming from Tenko are coming out softer and less frequently now, you think he might die soon if one more bat slams into his ribcage. ¨I´ve learned my lesson, please, please don't do this to him.¨ you cry and beat your fists against his arms, which only squeeze painfully around your middle.

 ¨Nah, I don't think you have, actually. You said that last time, and look what's happening because of your lies,¨ he jeers at you, exchanging a smirk with Hawks.

 ¨I´ll do anything,¨ you whisper in desperation, looking at him full in his poker face.

 ¨Anything?¨ His brows raise gleefully, and you nod vigorously, not caring what that means for you, only concerned that the assault on the motionless body mere feet away from you stops.

 Dabi regards you for a moment, taking in your tears and wobbling lip, before he finally turns to the masked man, and gives him a curt nod. ¨Alright, we´re done here Kai. Take your guys and leave.¨

 The man named Kai dusts off his purple jacket and calls out for his boys to stop.

 ¨That's enough. We´re going.¨ He wrinkles his nose in afterthought. ¨And make sure you clean your stuff off, I don't wanna deal with bloody bats...god knows how many diseases that thing is carrying, ´looks like it has mange.¨ 

 That thing is currently groaning in difficulty to lift his face out of a puddle of his own blood, tears, and snot, almost choking on the mixed liquids invading his mouth and nostrils

 He blearily lifts his head ever so slightly, and sees you writhing in Dabi´s embrace, one of his forearms wrapped around the front of her throat and evidently choking you from the way you frantically gulp in air.

 He hoarsley whispers out your name, and you heave out another dry sob when you see his lips form your name in them. He painfully and slowly starts to rise up to his hands and knees, and it's like looking at a baby stand up for the first time from the amount of visible shaking you can see in his broken limbs.

 Dabi, you, Hawks, and Kai as well as the groupies all watch in awe as the stick-thin figure manages to elbow his way up, and Hawks scoffs in disbelief at Tenko´s grit. A man in his state shouldn't even be able to blink.

 Meanwhile, you can feel your fiance's arms tremble in barely concealed rage from watching the blatant act of disrespect.

 You want to tell Tenko to just stay the fuck down, and don´t piss them off further, but part of you takes savage pride in his perserverance.

 Is he just used to this? Is that why it's so easy for him to disregard the volumes of blood that come vomiting out of his mouth? How long has he been accustomed to places other than his heart being broken?

 It's hard not to cringe as he places his bloodied palms against the sharp concrete; you can see tiny pebbles embed themselves in his open wounds, and his fingers bend in unnatural ways as he elevates himself and maintains eye contact with just you.

 You think he's crying, but it's hard to tell when your own vision is blurry.

 It´s quiet for a moment after everyone witnesses Tenko´s own version of a fuck you, until Kai turns on his heels, his boys immediatley scrambling towards their leader as he makes to leave.

 He walks towards Hawks, and you can hear him murmur, ``You owe me.¨ He gives a curt nod to Dabi who merely grunts.

 Hawks, ever the optimist, laughs joyfully and reaches out a hand towards the beaked boy. ¨Of course man! We'll be in touch soon.¨

 Kai merely waves his hand in a resemblance of a farewell, crinkling his nose at Hawks´ outreached one. He rounds the corner, his boys smirking in tow, and then they´re gone. As if nothing has happened.

 The silence grows louder, deafening your ears. The only reprieve you get from feeling mounting terror of being vulnerable without anyone around is when Tenko starts hacking, his arms buckling underneath his weight in an effort to keep upright.

 And then they surround you.

 ****

 ¨What's with the tears baby? You knew this was gonna happen, we warned you-¨

¨-Scared you´re gonna end up like him? Good, but I´ll be honest, I think cum would look better coating your face-¨

 ¨-You didn't actually think I was gonna let you get away with this shit again, did you? God you´re such a spoiled slut, I´m gonna enjoy breaking you down like your parents never did-¨

 Shoving you around and into each other, groping you, leering right in your personal space, advancing towards you so that you stumbled backwards closer to Tenko.

 ¨No, stop, leave me-us alone, stay away from me!¨ You scream, and Dabi wraps an inflamed hand around your upper arm, racking up the volume of your cries.

 ¨Shut the fuck up. You don't get to complain anymore, you're gonna finish your punishment you little brat.¨

You wail as you wrench yourself out of his grip, fueled by pure adrenaline. Ignoring your searing flesh, you try running around them but with a lazy flick of Hawk´s wrist, numerous feathers catch you around your collar and feet, pulling you back. Your thrashing only serves in getting cut up more, and they deposit you less-than-gently right next to Tenko.

 He watches with wide eyes and shakes his head with urgency for you to leave, to run again, but his head is forcefully slammed to the ground by the blond´s boot. You hear a crunch from his nose and bile rises from your throat as you try scrambling towards him out of instinct.

 ¨Do you have a death wish? Stop worrying about him, and worry about yourself for a second doll, you´re gonna want to.¨ A scarred hand grabs your chin and yanks it to face him. His lips are curled back, his lids lowered and his eyebrows are raised.

 You jerk your head back and spit in his face. ¨You´re not gonna get away with this Touya.¨ You don't even care about using his other moniker anymore. ¨How the fuck can I not worry about him? Look at him! You´re the crazy one!¨

 He snickers and crouches to your level, moving forward until your rapid crab-walk backwards results in your back hitting the brick wall.

 ¨You hear that Keigo? I´m gonna pay for this, oh no, however will I recover?¨ He simpers, joining in Keigo´s boisterous cackles. 

 You risk a panicked glance at Tenko. At least there wasn't a boot on the back of his head anymore, but you didn't gain any comfort when he was roughly grabbed by his shirt and lifted up to a sitting position facing you, Hawks smugly holding his head up from rolling around in its socket. 

  His face was a mess. You could barely recognize his thin, narrow features anymore when his whole head was caked with splotches of liquid red, mud, and gravel piercing his cheeks. His mouth was gaping, filled with yet even more blood, and where his teeth used to be was instead gaping holes and vermillion-stained cracked bone

 Now that he's sitting somewhat upright, you can clearly see protrusions where his ribs are, clearly indicating breaks and torn ligaments.

 But your attention is directed to the monster in front of you. He rests a burning hand on your calf, and you whimper as you try to pull back from the unbearable pain. You were certain that if when you got out of here, you´d need to go to an infirmary immediately.

 Touya stops your leg from retreating, holding it down while simultaneously trailing his digits up your leg, crawling forward even closer to you with the most disgusting shit-eating grin on his face while doing so. All your pleas of ¨Stay back¨ and ¨Don't come any closer Touya, I swear-!¨ does nothing to deter him, rather goading him on while your audience of two watches in horror from one man and perverted amusement with the other.

 ¨Yeah? Or what, huh? You gonna hit me with your quirk? Oh wait, you don't have one.¨

 He straddles you, pressing his chest against yours and shamelessly looking down when your breasts swell from the pressure. You bite your lip and turn your head, taking in quick inhales to avoid breathing in too much of the smell of smoke.

 ¨Nuh-uh princess, I want your eyes on me now when I fuck you. I’m gonna show you who daddy is today.¨

 You don’t know what kind of adrenaline rush you experience when the words slip out, “That’s rich from the guy who practically creamed his pants when he talked to his own daddy. Why don’t you solve your own daddy issues before starting mine, huh?”

 He slaps you so hard you see stars within the setting sun.

 It's hard to tell who hates who more at the moment, but regardless, it doesn’t stop Dabi from grabbing your cunt and squeezing hard.

 Your lids fly open and your head snaps forward to face him in sheer panic, the moment of bravado gone as the chemicals pumping through your brain catch up to your heart.

 ¨Wait, no-¨

 In one fluid movement, he clenches his thighs on either side of yours, and uses his legs to flip you over. With the same momentum, he grabs your arms and yanks you to the new switched position; him against the wall and you in between his legs, back to his chest.

 In another time, Touya would have been secretly overjoyed being pressed against you so intimately like this. It almost felt domestic, not that he knew anything about that word, but it was the closest feeling he could pinpoint to it. His heart was pounding, and he wondered if you could feel it against your back.

 He hoped you could.

 The vague sounds of Shit-mura noisily inhaling through his broken nose only bothered him slightly, the feeling of his counterpart´s greedy eyes scanning your body and his hold on you barely registered. He was in a zone of his own at that moment, just the two of you, regardless of the circumstances. 

 Touya didn´t actually think of this as a punishment, no, he thought of this simply as an opportunity to unapologetically make love fuck you and show you how much he wants you who´s boss. Nothing personal, just business. You have to learn how to please your husband eventually right? Might as well let him show you how a woman is supposed to act in front of a man.

 It was just pure bad luck for you that you got saddled with a man who wants you to act like a whore for him.

 ¨Yo, Keigo, help me out here, the bitch won't stop moving.¨ He grunts out, struggling to subdue your flailing limbs. Despite him amping up the temperature in his palms against your stomach and arms, you still continued to try and escape him. 

 He couldn't bear to do any worse, the tears rolling down your face already made his heart feel funny and he didn't want to feel anything anymore.

 Hawks sighed dramatically and unleashed a few of his feathers to aid Dabi. Immediately your wrists were pinned to your sides, your feet weighed down by the sheer force of the plumage. You break down and sob to your heart's content, knowing that you were done for.

 Touya feels your body slacken, and he quickly put out the fire in his fists.

 ¨Watch the show, Tenko. I know you´ve been dying for a piece of this ass for a while, anyways.¨

 Hawks jerks Tenko´s chin forwards, ensuring that his attention was on you as Dabi began feeling you up, relishing in how your rib cage shook with heaves as you shook in his arms. He shoved his hands underneath your shirt and lifted the hem up all the way over you, the feather pulling your arms above you for easier access.

 A sudden breeze rattled you to your core, but it wasn´t just the weather that made your teeth chatter.

 It was the sick desperation and rapt attention in Tenko´s eyes. It was Keigo was looking you over with lowered lids, palming himself and hissing when Dabi took a mismatched finger and pulled your bra cups down ever so slightly, teasing the boys with cleavage and a hint of areola.

 ¨Touya, please,¨ you squint your eyes shut and turn your head away from salacious gazes. ¨If-if you´re gonna do this, please don't let them watch.¨

 ¨Nah sweetheart,¨ he simpers as he burns the straps off your undergarment, allowing the sheer protection to fall to the gravel. ¨You wanted to whore yourself out, right? Well, this is what happens to little whores who don´t wanna keep their legs closed.¨ His voice is right at your ear, nipping and suckling the senstivie flesh while his ruthless hands take handfuls of your tits and squeeze them, rub them together, weigh them appreciatively in his scratchy flesh.

 ¨Fuck, flick her nipples a bit, I wanna see them get hard,¨ Keigo groans out, yanking Tenko´s bleeding head. ¨You like this, you little perv? You like watching your best friend get raped?¨

 ¨N-no, no I don't! Leave her alone!¨ And even if it wasn´t from Keigo shoving him down and wrestling for his zipper to pull his hard dick out, you would've already known he's lying from the way his bloody mouth opens slightly and drools watching Dabi pinch and roll your nipples.

 You keen and whimper as Dabi leans his head down past your neck and lifts a breast up, darting his tongue out and swirling the appendage over your hardening buds. The feathers prove to be useful when they hold your wrists down and prevent you from escaping him.

 ¨Holy shit, he's actually hard from this. You´re even more fucked up than I thought, Shimura, I´m almost impressed.¨ The beaten boy cries out and pathetically tries to remove his member from Keigo´s tight fist, but obviously is no match for the way the blond fucks the skinny dick in his hand, squeezing almost painfully at his tip. With the help of his other feathers, he frees his own length and teases himself, the red turning white at the tips as they collect his precum.

 Dabi says nothing, but keeps his eyes on Tenko as he moves your body up into his lap, settling your ass right on top of his erection. You inhale shakily as he too fumbles to release his aching cock from his jeans, your nose clogged from crying and your voice hoarse from screaming. He lifts your skirt up and hisses in appreciation at the direct contact your panty-clad ass gives, suffocating his dick in your warmth.

 The experimentally thrusts lightly a couple times, jostling you up and down and making your tits bounce. Keigo and Tenko look in awe, the feathers and hands moving rapidly in time with Dabi´s thrusting. You try to avoid eye contact with either of them or their leaking dicks.

 You feel like your heart is a runny mess, you´re a mess, your hair is fucked up, your clothes are being strewn on the ground and burned away, your skin is being molested, you don´t know what the fuck is going on or what to do.

 So instead of pleading, you decide to relent and get this over with quickly. The less resistance you show, the faster you can get Tenko to an E.R.

 And speaking of faster, Dabi has stopped grinding against your ass in favor of snaking a hand around and toying with the hem of your panties, holding your skirt up.

 You bite your lip and your eye twitches, but you stay silent save for shuddering inhales through your nose.

 Taken slightly aback by your lack of complaint, Dabi hesitates for a moment before shaking it off, delving his fingers into your panties, the cloth moving and bulging out from his hand sliding in and out of your folds.

 You whimper and jerk your hips minutely in instinct, and he feels it, much to your horror. He grins and takes it as encouragement, circling his digits through your little-more-than folds until he finds the clit by the way you jump at contact.

 He presses down, flicks it, circles it, gathering lube from your mutinously throbbing cunt to slick yourself up, thoroughly enjoying your sharp inhales and the way you can´t help moving against the invading actions.

 It's only when Keigo calls out that Dabi remembers he's not doing this to please you, he´s doing this to fuck you over just like how you did to him. 

 ¨Pull her panties off, I think our little vouyer here is gonna come soon,¨ he positively purrs as he presses a thumb against Tenko´s jerking hips.

 More blood has covered Shimura´s head and body, but even amongst the mess of flesh that was once his face you can clearly see his eyes wide open, pupils blown black with lust, bones actually audibly rattling in their broken sockets as he breathes heavily at your corruption. 

 He looks insane, more insane than the ones actually raping you. You wonder if you feel more violated by the obvious monsters who told you straight up what they were going to do to you, or the one who swore to be your friend, who swore to never relish in your pain.

 You´re brought out of your empty contemplation when Dabi neglects fingering your clit to yank your skirt off your shaking legs. He doesn't even bother with slowly stripping the panties off, impatience overriding better judgement. You again offer little to no resistance as he does so, which riles up the squeamish feeling in his heart.

 Now fully exposed to him, his cock stretches another couple of millimeters, looking like it's going to burst from the angry red and purple swelling it adorns.

 Keigo whistles and licks his lips, lecherously looking over your tits and exposed pussy all for the taking.

 He pulls your hips back and forces you to hover right above his standing cock, causing your knees to shake in exertion. You feel like you´re going to faint any second.

 ¨You ready doll? Ready to take your husband´s cock for the first time?¨ He cooes, bringing you lower and swiping the weeping slit of his prick against the wetness of your folds. You mewl and try to shift, but it only serves in him pulling you down even more, your labia ever so slightly enveloping the top of his tip.

 Your cunt is pounding with rushing blood, and he almost gasps as the sensation flows into both of your sensitive bits.

 Leaning forward, he conceals his mouth behind your hair as he mutters, ¨Try to relax for me, it´ll hurt less.¨

 You can't care less for his consideration, not when his jerky thrusts feel like they're splitting you in two. All your poor pussy is aware of is the blinding white-hot pain felt on every wall as Touya takes from you what you would not willingly give.

 The sounds of your squelching hole-whether from blood, precum, your own tears, who knows-fill the air obscenely. You mistake a glance upwards in your blurry vision and you nearly vomit when you see Hawk´s hand furiously bobbing up and down Tenko´s flushed red dick, and his own being caressed with lust. They look like fucking dogs drooling over your state.

 You´re brought out of your horrified reverie when Dabi hisses. He fully sheathes himself inside you and you mewl at the sensation of being filled. Liquid trails down where you two connect, and it feels disgusting as he pulls out only to slam back into you, the cooling wetness of said liquids splashing everywhere and onto the concrete below you.

 Your tits bounce up and down as Dabi takes his sweet time pulling out all the way only to give you a moment's reprieve before diving back into the wet cavern. Eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling of his veiny dick thrusting in and out of you, mouth open when he remembers to heat up his hands and play with your nipples, your legs shaking when he alternates to play with your clit, you look like a real slut.

 Tenko cums suddenly, crying out and jerking his hips up into Hawks hand when you let out an especially pornographic moan. Ropes of white shoot up like a fountain from his tip and splatter Keigo´s hand and the pavement.

 Keigo cries out and laughs in disgust, wiping his soiled hand into Tenko´s hair.

 ¨You see that? Look how perfect and sweet your little friend is now, Y/N,¨ Dabi pants into your ear, yanking your hair back and forcing you to look at your ex best friend.

 ¨No, d-don´t wanna look, please let go,¨ you babble as he fucks you stupid.

 ¨Shut up. Whores don't get to beg for mercy,¨ He sneers as he slaps a bouncing tit, hard.

 ¨The same should apply for cucks like him,¨ Keigo speaks up and slaps the back of Tenko´s head, sending blood and hair flying off his face.

 Dabi stops pounding into you, allowing you to take a merciful breath despite what he said.

 ¨Yeah? You think so?¨ Shimura snaps out of his daze when he realizes they´re talking about him. He shakes his head frantically and tries to tuck his softening cock into his pants but a red feather is quick to restrain him.

 ¨Uh-uh, pathetic bastards like you need to get their dues too. We let you off easy with the Shie Hassaiki,¨ He snickers.

 ¨Come one. Lick this mess up. I'm sure you dreamt about it before, closet perv.¨ Dabi sneers as the blond´s boot sends Tenko flying forwards, almost colliding with your stomach.

 You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling shakily as he gets back up on his hands and knees. You can't bear to look at him right now.

 They all disgust you.

 ¨What did I just say, slut? Eyes open.¨ A patched hand slaps you and your head is snapped forwards mere inches from Tenko´s. 

 Your gazes meet, but you can't recognize the eyes anymore. They used to belong to a man´s but now they reflect that of a monster´ s.

 ¨Clean this mess up. Any time this little pussy drools you´re going to eat it up like the roach you are. And if by the time she's done riding and I see a single patch of slick on her I'll knock the rest of your teeth out, got that?¨ Dabi reaches his arm around and pulls the weak boy´s hair forwards until his nose nestles where your filled pussy is.

 All you can do is watch as he hesitantly darts his tongue out and licks from Dabi´s engorged dick up to your clit.

 ¨Fuck you,¨ you whisper to no one and everyone as you let your head fall back, signaling to your finance that you were in enough pain to start up again.

 ¨You´ve had enough rest. Ride my fucking dick until I say stop.¨ He doesn't need to threaten you this time. You shakily rise up on your knees and twitch when he slaps your ass suddenly. The entire time you lift yourself up, Tenko´s tongue follows up Dabi´s exposed length until it swirls around your clit again.

 You feel numb. 

 Sinking back down onto him is even more excruciating because you can vividly feel every inch of him scraping up against your walls. It doesn't help that a certain tongue is lapping away at you too.

 But nonetheless you don´t waste any time bouncing up and down like your life depended on it, which it probably did.

 You can hear him panting behind you, his mouth letting out ragged breaths against your ear, his mouth desperately trying to suck galaxy colored hickies into your naked torso as you envelope him.

 The feeling of Dabi and Tenko´s breaths puffing onto your clit and nipples would´ve caused the start of a climax if it weren't for Keigo´s unnecessary commentary.

 ¨Holy fucking shit that´s so messed up. Wait no, move down a bit, lick the base of his dick. Yeahhh, just like that.¨ He walks around the scene with his phone out, obviously recording as he leans in toward some anatomy and pulls away to get the bigger picture at other angles.

 And Tenko actually listens. He follows through every salacious order Keigo gives, he even does it a little bit better than someone who's supposed to at least pretend they're not enjoying your ordeal.

 You can tell Dabi is reaching his peak when he suddenly grabs your hips in a bruising grip and slams you down on his length, emitting a broken scream from you. He quickly slaps a hand over your mouth and spews filth in your ear as he uses you like a fleshlight.

 ¨You like bouncing on my dick like a whore? Huh, Y/N? Answer me you little bitch, or are you too cock hungry to say anything else? Not enough dicks here to satisfy you, princess? Keigo, get over here, she looks like she needs more.¨ You wail and scream behind his hand as Keigo eagerly stands over you, his member already being pumped in a hand.

 ¨That's right slut, you already know what to do, don´t you? I bet a slut like you has practice, ´bet you and the degenerate licking the cum from your pussy did it all the time.¨ You look imploringly at his head ducked between your thighs and even clench them around his head to get his attention. But he refuses to refute the accusations hissed at you in favor of eating your own slick off your puffy folds.

 Keigo waits no longer as he seizes your hand and slaps it against his base, silently urging you to stroke him. You wearily look up at him and are faced with a bright camera light trained on your fucked-out face and trembling hand. Knowing that you were stuck, you started stroking, accepting whatever pace he made you take as he lifted his hips up into your cupped palm, his balls smacking against your wrist while you jacked him off.

 Dabi´s pants grew louder and more choked as every part of you became occupied with cocks. He still kept a hand over your mouth, bringing it up to his mouth every couple of seconds to taste the tears that slid down from your eyes down to his digits.

 ¨´Gonna cum, and you´re gonna take it all in that sloppy hole of yours. ´M gonna fill you up with cum and make you fat with my kids, you´re gonna be on your fucking hands and knees for me like a good little housewife aren´t you-¨

 The third time he brings his hand away to taste your tears you frantically gasp out, ¨Don´t do it inside Touya, please don´t, not inside I'm begging you to-¨

 But you´re cut off suddenly when Tenko teeths at your slicked clit, and you mewl, unconsciously rolling your hips into his mouth even more.

 His tongue travels around your stretched labia and around Dabi´ś balls, causing you both to hiss in unison.

 ¨I'll do whatever the fuck I want. You´re lucky I´m not fucking you up the ass, you ungrateful bitch.¨

 His dick starts twitching in your pussy, and you know he's about to burst.

 ¨I´ll never forgive you.¨ You whisper in defeat, for the umpteenth time.

 ¨I don't need you to,¨ he merely grunts as he cums inside you with a loud groan.

 His body shakes and he pulls your naked back against his torso, hugging you tightly and filling you up. At the same time, Keigo also lets out a string of curses as your hand is doused with milky white substance from his own.

 Dabi grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. ¨Who do you love?¨ he purrs, nuzzling your cheek with faux affection.

 You force yourself to make it sound faux, because you hate the way he looks so deeply into your eyes.

 ¨Y-you.¨ ¨That´s a good girl,¨ he whispers and kisses you, hard.

 You´re slumped. There´s mixed cum from all four people coating your body, various fluids and anatomy strewn on the concrete around you, and clothes shuffling in place as they regroup themselves. 

 Tenko slowly crawls back up from his position in front of your cunt, rearing back on his knees and wiping streaming blood from his head. Keigo tucks his dick back in his pants and cruelly wipes the cum that flew on his clothes into your hair, while Dabi dumps you off his lap onto the grating ground.

 ¨Well, I hope you two learned your lesson today,¨ Keigo simpered with scrunched eyebrows, pouting at you both.

 By now the inky haired man has gotten to his feet, brushing his hands off excess grime. 

 ¨That was fun, I should've done this a lot sooner, honestly,¨ he leers at both the figures on the ground, and you refrain from looking anyone in the eyes. ¨I´m gonna take her home. Keigo, deal with this fuckwad while I'm gone. And get him an ice pack, he looks like pure shit.¨ He snorts to himself.

 ¨How considerate of you Touya. And here I was thinking you didn't have a heart.¨

 You and Tenko don´t join in their vicious laughter.

 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, the worst is over. I doubt you´ll go through that again, since you know what'll happen if you continue to act out.¨ Your fiance crouches down and starts shoving your limbs back into their clothes, ignoring the way you weakly try to evade his callous touch.

 Everyone stares in silence as you´re dressed like a child, unable to properly move from the shock and trauma you just endured. It was weird seeing you so quiet. They thought you would´ve still been crying, or at least fighting back now that they no longer had a hold on you.

 But you were so, so accommodating as Touya pulled you up to your feet, keeping a firm grasp around your waist to keep your knees from buckling. You kept your head down as he grabbed your backpack from a helping feather´s elevation and slung it over his own shoulder.

 ¨I´ll catch you later Kei. Keep me updated on our little experiment,¨ he winks before steering you around the corner.

 That was the last time you saw Tenko Shimura, your best friend of years.

 ¨E-experiment?¨ His hoarse voice questions, nasally from the buildup in his broken nose.

 ¨Yeah, you heard right. You´re our little experiment, Shimura. Truth be told, I always saw the potential in you. After Touya showed me those texts between you and Y/N it just confirmed my suspicion.¨ Keigo plucked a feather out and tossed it to Tenko´s gnarled hand. ¨Here, use this to wipe that shit off your face. I´m not in the mood to drag you to a nurse right now so this´ll have to do.¨

 ¨Potential? Suspicion? I don't get it,¨ he brings the feather up painfully down the sides of his cheeks, collecting the grime and gore onto the victimized plumage.

 The blond grimaces at the disgusting sight and looks away. ¨I mean, I see the potential in you to be one of us. I knew you weren't this goody-two shoes, quiet loser that everyone made you out to be. And you really proved it today, too. I didn´t know you had it in you all the way to eat her cunt like that while she was getting raped, shit was pretty erotic if I´m being honest.¨

 Tenko cringes at the brutal choice of words but doesn´t refute them. He stays quiet before Keigo realizes he needs some more coaxing out of his cautious state.

 ¨Hey, look man, none of that stuff earlier was personal, alright? Touya just needed to prove a point to his bitch, that's all.¨ He shrugs so easily, as if everyone was as delusional as him to believe that.

 But maybe Tenko really had snapped, because he turned to Keigo with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, taking in his words.

 ¨Really? I thought you guys hated me,¨ he mutters, looking down at the soiled feather in his hand.

 ¨Nah, it's nothing like that. Just gotta prove to us how you´re different, y´know?¨ Hawks slings an arm and wing around Tenko´s bruised shoulder as if to offer him some security.

 ¨You don´t wanna be a loser anymore, right? Consider this a new chapter in your life, the next big steps.¨ ¨Yeah.¨ ¨Good.¨ They stay like that for a couple moments of silence, drinking in the setting sun.

 And then Tenko can´t hold his curiosity any longer.

 ¨But how do I do that? There´s nothing really about me that´s special...I mean, except for...however the hell I was acting like earlier,¨ he shifts uncomfortably, recalling the thirst he felt when he saw your sopping cunt getting fucked stupid. It was strange, really. The itch in his body had never felt more satiated when he felt like the oppressor once, rather than the oppressed when watching your eyes fill up with tears, knowing that he was the one who caused it. He had never felt that calm and pleased even when the itch was satisfied by your soothing fingers over his scratched-raw skin.

 ¨That's what I'm thinkin´ too,¨ Keigo thoughtfully holds a hand to his chin, his wings flapping lazily with the cool breeze. ¨I´d say the first step to a new chapter with us is to change that dopey schoolboy name. Tenko Shimura? That sounds like a dog´s name. And you don´t wanna be a kicked around puppy anymore, do you?¨

Tenko vigorously shakes his head. 

 A new chapter with us.

 Us.

 He swallows hard, unable to think of a cool name that would be good enough as a new group member. The shock on his body was catching up, so he forfeited his pride and sought help from his recruiter.

 “Did you have anything in mind?”

 Hawks hums thoughtfully. “Yeah...how ‘bout Tomura? Tomura Shigaraki?” He looks over ex-Tenko’s broken body and nods in confirmation.

“Tomura...Shigaraki,” the new Tomura says slowly, letting his tongue run over his missing and broken teeth in the midst of testing out the new name.

 “The kanji for it has to do with change and mourning, something like that I think. It’s pretty fitting, especially since you’re letting go of your past and moving on with your life...right?” Keigo side eyes Tomura mischievously, knowing he was in no place to defy him.

 Shigaraki merely looks to the horizon, silently acknowledging the new chapter of his life. Another cold breeze swirls around the two men, but it's not the sting of the wind that brings newfound tears to Tenko Tomura’s eyes.

 He shakily rises to his feet with a grunt, clutching his ribs and tilting his head back to avoid breathing in anymore drying blood. Keigo gets up with him, outstretching a hand towards him to steady him on his feet, which Tomura takes.

 “I think I need to see a nurse.”

 The blond laughs, his wings fluttering with the waves of his voice.

 “Almost forgot about that. But y’know, you should be more careful next time you train with us. I don’t think your body can take any more damage than it already has.”

 ******************

 You haven’t returned any of Touya’s calls.

 You haven’t received any messages from Tenko.

 You didn’t get out of bed when you saw a red feather zooming past your window in the morning.

 You’ve been home for three days now, huddled under the comforters and only getting up to drink some water like a zombie. Showers are a no-go, it’s unbearable to look at your own naked body anymore. The school kept ringing your parents for your attendance, but the image of you stumbling home and bursting into tears is fresh in their minds; they let the calls go to voicemail.

 Tenko’s broken body. His screams of agony. Dabi’s hands all over you, Hawk’s feather holding you down, your body shifted and positioned like a ragdoll-it’s all too much, you can’t face anyone yet. You’re absolutely terrified.

 A knock at the door jolts you out of your catatonic state.

 “Honey? You want something to eat? We haven’t seen you come out today…” Your father’s voice trails off unsuredly, and after some harsh whispers coming from behind the door and scuffling sounds, your mother speaks.

“You need to move around sweetheart-”

 Your body jolts violently when she says that cursed nickname.

 “Ahh come on sweetheart, the worst is over.”

 “-did something happen with you and Tenko? You two haven’t talked in so long, you usually never argue like this.”

 A burning comes up in your chest as your stomach rumbles, bile rising up your throat. You want them to leave. Now.

 “I’ll-” you cough and clear your raspy voice from disuse. “I’ll be out in a bit, ‘head hurts.”

 “Are you sure? We can come get it for you, we don’t mind-”

 “-No, I’m fine. Please just...just give me some time.” You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, silently willing them to go away.

 It’s only until the sound of their footsteps padding away from your door that you rigidly rise out of bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand.

 2 missed calls from Rumi, 3 text messages from Touya, and nothing from Tenko.

 Was he alive?

 With trembling hands, you punch in his contact and pull up your messages.

 3:04 pm: We need to talk.

 You sigh and throw the phone back on the table, running your hands down your face. You just wanted things to go back to normal, when you and him were okay, when you werent engaged to Touya, when they didn’t turn him into a monster who ate you out while you bounced up and down and up and fucking down on your rapist’s-

 No. You can’t think like that. You can’t. That wasn’t him, they made him do that.

 At least, that’s what you tell yourself in order for your sanity to remain on its barest of threads.

 Time moves at a snail’s pace as you find things to do that distract you from checking your messages every five minutes. Soggy leftovers are pushed through your throat, the t.v blares while you watch without actually seeing, your bedsheets are made and remade into perfection...but nothing prevents you in the end from snatching up the device and checking for his text.

Nothing. Absolutely nada.

 Just a “read” sign that makes you see red.

 Who the fuck did he think he was? He wasn’t the fucking vitcim, you were-

 Oh. But he was, just as much as you were.

 Anger curls into anxiety as you nibble your lip in contemplation. Was he mad at you?

 It was your fault in a way.

 You try calling him, no one picks up.

 If he was going to flat out ignore you, then you knew there was only one way to corner him for talking.

 And corner him you did, when on a bright Wednesday morning you decide to go to school, for nothing else if not hounding Tenko down and seeing if he was okay. You didn’t know if he deserved it, but you just had to see him once.

 You wait outside his front gate, idly watching the sky turn from a deep purple to mix in with hues of orange and blue. After a few minutes, the door creaks open and you whip around to face him.

 It’s only been a few days since you two last saw each other, but at that moment when he turns and his eyes go wide from seeing you, you feel as though you’ve never known him before. Not his tangly hair that hangs in front of his face, not the new bruises and bandages on various parts of his body, and not the sneer his mouth curls into, that is oh so reminiscent of-

 “Where have you been? You didn’t answer your phone…” You trail off confusedly as he practically shoves past you through the gate, ignoring the way you stumble from the impact of his bony shoulder.

 “Hey, wait up!”

 You do a light jog after him but your heart is pumping at light speed, uncertainty creeping up your spine at his behavior.

 “Tenko, stop!”

 “It’s Tomura, now, Tomura. Don’t call me by that dopey ass name anymore.” He stops in his tracks and looks down at you as you pant and stare at him.

 “T-Tomura? What’s that? And answer my question, where have you been?”

“Yeah, fucking Tomura Shigaraki to you. And I’ve been doing my own thing now. I’m not wagging my tail behind you like a fucking lapdog anymore, got it?” He shoulders his bag and continues to walk past you.

 “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you so upset at me, I didn’t even do anything!” You walk backwards side by side with him, desperately trying keep up with his curt pace.

 “Oh right, you’re just so innocent aren’t you? I should’ve left you from the start, honestly. Keigo was right.” “Keigo? When did you talk to him? He assaulted you! How could you even face him? “You say that as if he’s the one who made me like this.” He gestures to his barely healing body, and your breath catches in your throat.

 “Wait...you’re blaming me?”

 “Finally got it Einstein?” He sneers at you. “You did this to me, you made Keigo and Touya beat the shit out of me. If you had just listened to them and left me the fuck alone, I wouldn’t have suffered half as much as I already have.”

 You ball your fists and try to swallow the growing bulge in your throat. You thought your sanity would be kept intact for a while longer, but you feel the last threads barely hanging on.

 “Tenk-Tomura, please just wait a second,” You say desperately, not even thinking before grabbing onto his shirt sleeve. You want to hold him here forever, you want to go back, you want things to be the way they were before, he can’t leave you alone with Touya-

 “I’m glad they showed me how selfish you’ve always been. You never thought of my safety when you kept hanging around me knowing full well that they’d beat the shit out of me if they caught us. And they did! You happy now?” He’s laughing, but he can’t hide the rage from his balled shaking fists.

 “No, no please-” you whisper horrified.

 But he turns around, barely glancing back at you before bidding his adieu.

 “I’m saying goodbye to you as Tenko, and saying hello as Tomura now. Forget we were ever friends, it means nothing to me now. I used to feel like a burden to you, but it’s funny, you seem to be weighing me down more than ever now.”

 “But don’t worry. You’ll still see me around. After all, Keigo and Touya seem to be pretty solid guys. And hey, maybe I’ll even be the best man at your wedding coming up.”

 Your head is swimming. The sky is almost a clear blue now, the purple having faded away a long time ago. The sounds of strings stretching are brought to a climax.

 He’s so close, yet so far away from you that you barely catch the words that come tumbling out of his mouth so easily, so effortlessly you'd think he’d either rehearsed saying them all his life or that he’s had a lifetime of saying it.

 “I fucking hate you.”

 And the threads snap.

[miekasa]

call me (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: fluff, humor? you can be the judge of that i suppose, levi is quiet and often practical, but you cannot convince that there’s not a small part of him that doesn’t enjoy having shit to hold over people lol

↯ notes: this is also cross-posted from another blog, but i tweaked it a bit to fit levi and rewrote/edited parts i wish the world had never seen </3 also i’m reposting bc i was an idiot who accidentally deleted it on mobile rip 

↯ word count: 1.3k

↯ summary: drunk you is not amused by the man who keeps trying to coerce you into his apartment; even if that man is your boyfriend and that apartment is his apartment.

“Alright mister, I’m trusting you for now because you’re Erwinnie’s friend, and Erwinnie is my best friend,” you hiccup, wagging your pointer finger as threateningly as you can in your current state, “So if he says you’re a good person, you’re probably a good person. Or good enough.”

Levi holds back a knowing smirk, and loops his arm through yours to steady your balance. He doesn’t know how or why Erwin let you get this drunk, but he’s at least glad the blonde was sober enough to call him to pick you up instead of letting you get in a cab; or worse, attempt to take the bus.

“I’m so very glad you trust me,” he says, voice flat as your wrap your other arm around his bicep. You hum back, a little spacey and like you maybe didn’t hear what he said.

You’re honestly pretty cute when you’re drunk. It’s not something he gets to see often, as you don’t allow yourself to let go frequently; nor do you usually have the time to. And it’s not that he particularly wishes for you to be drunk to the point where you can barely stand, or remember his name, but all things considered, Levi is happy that your general drunk disposition is happy, too. 

He waves Mike goodbye as he wrangles Erwin into his car, not holding back his smile this time as you wave over-excitedly at the blonde in the passenger seat, calling his name loudly to tell him goodnight and that you’ll miss him, like you hadn’t already told him goodnight three minutes ago, or spent the last three hours with him drinking. Yeah, you’re cute. 

Thankfully, Levi doesn’t live too far from the restaurant you and Erwin were at, so the both of you are home after a twenty minute walk—what should have been fifteen minutes, but was prolonged by your drunken fascination with a squirrel on a public bench.

You start to wobble more when Levi unlaces your arms to get his keys out of his pocket, and he moves his right hand to rest against the small of your back so you don’t fall. However, drunk you is not so entertained by the idea of his hands anywhere near your waist as sober you would have been.

“Hey, hey, hey—hold it right there, mister!” you stutter, words a bit too loud for the confined space of Levi’s hallway at three in the morning, “I am not going in—into that suspicious apartment with you.”

You stumble as you try to remove Levi’s hand from your waist, and he tries to steady your balance again, but push him away more forcefully, staggering into the wall behind you.

“Ah, bitch,” you curse, holding your head and groaning. The pain clearly isn’t enough to stop your accusations against Levi, as you’re back to wagging your finger at him, even hunched over from your drunken stupor, “See, this is your fault.”

Levi sighs. He doesn’t know why you’re holding your head, because you hit your back, and from what he can tell, you shouldn’t have hurt yourself that badly. He’ll take a closer look at you once you’re inside. That’s if he could get you inside to begin with.

He can’t wrangle you and open the door at the same time, so he goes for the latter, finally pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock his apartment door, then attempts to move you inside. Keyword: attempts; because anytime he puts his hands remotely near you, you slap them away.

“Come on, we have to go inside,” he grunts, trying again to get a hold of your arm, but you whack him away harshly. For a drunk person, you seem to have the strength and dexterity of a pro-athlete all of a sudden. Where was all this coordination when he was trying to get you up the stairs five minutes ago?

“No!” you growl—once again, too loudly for the time and place. “Haven’t you heard of the saying no means no, mister? I might be drunk, but this is not my apartment, and I am not going in there to have sex with you!”

“I’m trying to help you go to bed. I’m not going to try and have sex with you.” Levi takes a deep breath. This could sound really bad if anyone else woke up and heard the two of you. 

But you’re not having it, crossing your arms and turning your body so that you’re now facing the wall, your back towards a less-than-impressed Levi. “Well, I don’t believe you. I’m going to call Erwinnie tell him you’re being a bad friend, and then Erwinnie is going to call my boyfriend and he’s going to come and pick me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Levi drawls, leaning against his door frame, watching your silhouette as you clumsily search for your phone in your pockets, “Why don’t you just call your boyfriend then?”

You turn on your heels as best you can, and muster up your most menacing glare. It’s not menacing in the slightest, and it actually makes Levi crack a smile, which you do not take lightly; but that only makes him smile further, because sober you doesn’t like it when he’s not fazed by your self-proclaimed intimidation tactics, either.

“Fine,” you huff, finally putting your phone to your ear, “But you’re going to be sorry, because Levi is going to come here and kick your ass.”

Levi chuckles, feeling his own phone ring in his back pocket, “I bet he is.”

“He is,” you insist, stomping your foot for dramatic effect, “He might not be that tall, but he’s strong as hell, plus he’s handsome, and he doesn’t let people fuck around with me, so say your prayers, mister.”

The following afternoon is far less than pleasant. You feel groggy, tired, and like everything is moving in slow motion. Piece by piece, your memories of your night out with Erwin start to come back to you, but you can’t seem to recall anything beyond your fifth margarita.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Levi calls, sarcastically, upon entering the bedroom.

His voice and presence surprises you, but then the realization washes over you that you’re in his apartment and not your own. You’re not sure why yet, but you could probably take a guess.

“Did you take me home last night?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head towards the bedside table, where you find a bottle of water. Levi watches you as you move to hang your legs off the side of the bed and reach for the bottle, groaning in the process. He mentally notes that he should make you breakfast—or, well, at this point, brunch—after you go shower, so that you can take an Advil for the pain.

He moves across the room to sit beside you on the bed, careful to not disrupt too much as to make you spill the water on the sheets. “You know, for someone who’s so happy-go-lucky when they’re drunk, you put up quite the fight yesterday.”

“I did?” you turn to him, capping the bottle, eyes wide with surprise, “You were probably sleeping and you had wake up and come deal with me, I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, an almost uncharacteristic and sly smile playing on his lips, “You always say something interesting that keeps me entertained. It makes up for it.”

“Dear god, what was it this time?” you groan, throwing your head back, “I didn’t confess my feelings for you again did I? This is, what, like the sixth time since we’ve been dating? I’m such an embarrassing drunk.”

“Not a confession this time,” he chuckles, “The opposite. Maybe worse.”

Levi fishes his phone from his pocket, and pulls up his voicemails before handing it to you. Curious—and a little bit scared—to find out what could possibly be worse than confessing to your boyfriend of almost four years that you’re in love with him and sad that you’re not dating him? You’re not sure that it could get more embarrassing than that until you click on Levi’s most recent voicemail and hear your own voice crackling through the speaker of his phone.

“—What, hey, fuck off, mister! I don’t want to go into your scrubby apartment! I am happily dating Levi Ackerman, and when he gets here he is going to grand slam your sorry ass into the ground!”

[starryhyuck]

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.