#imo he should be able to keep both quirks

[gradelstuff]

All these fanarts of Tenko with the circle quirk is making me feel so melancholy :')

At this rate I'm gonna like it almost as much as I like Decay (I'm never slandering one quirk over the other tho, they're both special to me). Tenko could've had a ""normal"" life if AFO never killed Nana and then manipulated Tenko's upbringing. Or at least have a happier family.

But also, the flying quirk thing feels very idealistic. It's too good to be true. This situation is literally the Shimura version of "what if Touya was able to achieve Endeavor's dreams and have that happy family" scenario. It's such a happy dream, but the reality is that it was never gonna happen.

[skemford]

Decided to refresh my knowledge of bendy protagonists personalities/quirks and i can say that i forget how distant canon Audrey is from fanon one sometimes

Here's relatively short list with Audrey character analysis+random tibbits (environmental/gameplay/voice lines)

(I'll appreciate if someone will interact+most of it is under the cut!)

1. Her workplace is an unorganized mess

On the right side: a couple of empty teacups, empty paper sheets, unopened envelope, books/notebooks, a toy ball and keys in the middle of the desk, storyboards that are UNRELATED to what she was working on;

On the left side: donut that she kept close to her elbow & storyboards while she was drawing + to-do list for a day

There's no WAY she'll be able to keep anything tidy. If you hc her and Bendy to have a familiar bond post game, she'll be as messy if not messier. Her home might be a wreck.

2. She easily distracts

- Audrey is working overtime and claims that she has "only eight hundred more frames to go" until the next deadline

But was she actually *actively* working?

She has unrelated items on her desk (listed above) and jumps on the first opportunity to get a coffee.

If she really did wanted to have a drink, she literally has a soda machine close to her office doors.

Some brands of soda do have caffeine in them, right? Getting a coffee looks more like an excuse for a walk.

Bonus point: if you'll stay in her office without getting up (for 15 minutes), she'll acknowledge that she has no time to waste and will return to work instead.

- "Well, the coffee's good and all. But this work's gotta get done"

Worth to acknowledge: this girl has "employee of the month" award and some kind of animation award (boris statue) in her office .

Does she stays overtime everyday to finish something? Or other Archgate employees are even worse at their jobs, somehow?

3. She uses dry sarcasm or makes jokes a lot

Honestly, it happens really often and should be brought up in fan content more imo.

Due to the images limit i can't put a lot of examples with screnshoots but I'll quote some of them.

- "i think you and i have very different definitions of alright" (toward Allison)

- "Looks like he's having a bad day" (about dead lost one with the gent pipe)

- "Ok! Yeah! And that totally makes sense" (reaction to an easter egg)

- "That's one leap of faith i definitely won't make" (about the pit in animation alley)

4. Audrey gets defensive when someone starts to talk over her or when she feels overwhelmed

Audrey either will deny what was said or will acknowledge it by being sarcastic

Prominent example of this is her reaction to Memory!Joey at the hotel:

- "Oh,now you knew my father. Well, newsflash! I didn't even knew my father...or my mother. Or anyone else in my family" (after Joey says that she has "adventurous spirit of her father")

- "What? Are you crazy?... Who do you think you are?" (after the reveal of her being created by the ink machine)

+ Similar behaviour can be seen in her short interaction with Twisted Alice (Susie).

Audrey prefers to keep conversation equal between both sides and when it fails to work, she'll either stay silent or will express frustration (which can be seen with her replying "no" to Twisted Alice and not saying anything afterwards)

5. She seems to trust Allison enough to be vulnerable around her

After leaving the spider lair, she'll try to reach to Allison through the speakers

- "Alice? Are... you there?... Alice!"

She'll acknowledge that she feels scared and after Allison won't sound reassuring enough, Audrey's hand will be visibly shaking.

Allison is the only character Audrey has opened to; you'll never see her being that vulnerable with anyone else

(She is honest with Henry but not on this level)

It makes me wish they had more interactions; Allison for sure was really important in early development of the game.

6. She's blunt

Through the game Audrey is a type of person who says whatever is on her mind without hiding her intentions too much.

She's emotional and rarely thinks twice (most of her decisions are impulsive or sometimes irrational) which reflects on the way she talks.

It's often slips out through sarcasm when she gets defensive/tries to cope but it's also happens in relatively safe environment (for example, when she talks with Betty):

- "Are you...very old?" (Wilson's mansion, bedroom)

This one liner is the most random question you can say to a stranger; I doubt it was very well thought out from her side

7. Audrey easily trusts people which makes her easy to manipulate

I couldn't skip this one.

When Wilson has created a story about his "poor lost father" as a bait and Audrey did believed in this, there are multiple reasons for "why"

This either could come from her being "goodhearted" or the circumstances being used against her

- She went through whole "father trauma" in one day without being able to process anything & get proper answers:

An idea of "saving" another father (Nathan Arch) who she could've knew more than her own father (Nathan says in one tape that he meet young animators at least once) could've hit her really close to home

- Audrey never actually got a real answer on how to leave the cycle, teaming up with Wilson (who was able to enter and leave) could've looked like the only one way back

(I do acknowledge that writing in DR could've been better at places but if you do think about it in this way,it makes sense)

7.1. She is empathetic

I think that this part says everything for itself and it doesn't need to be explained. Thought, she's the one who decide if someone deserves it.

- She felt bad for hurting Bendy on accident & apologized when she was able to

- When she met Allison for the last time, she "gave" her this name, remembering that she doesn't like to be called 'Alice'

- At the end of the game she wants to try to make the cycle better for everyone.

Twisted Alice (Susie) was included which means that Audrey doesn't hold grudges against her (even with the latest one wanting to kill her previously)

8. Audrey puts her arm through an ink container without hesitation or any side thoughts

IT IS a game mechanic and lore wise you can relate it to her being an ink creature

But honestly? It's in character for Audrey.

We're talking about someone who decided to go to great lengths to catch an aquarium fish (that's kept as a pet) and wanted to use it...for a recipe.

8.1. She doesn't mind eating out of trashcans

If you think that wanting to use someone's pet for a recipe is too weird, you're actually wrong. But eating out of trashcan (when you have other options) may be.

Thought, she drives a line on a food that has flies or other insects on it (like "chocolate cake")...i guess in other cases, it's fine to her.

~~~~~~~

Trivial things:

- Bendy seems to be her favourite cartoon character.

She calls him "little guy" in prologue and keeps close to her storyboards where he's the main character:

In the cycle, she acts joyful when she first stumbles upon the real deal.

- She loves chocolate donuts

- Audrey uses dark eyeshadows (can be seen only in prologue custscene. It's hard to notice at first)

- Her breakfast from to-do list are toasts

- She has abstract Bendy painting in her office

- It can be speculated that she's uncomfortable with being touched (or with someone being physically close), unless, she's the one who initiates it

~~~~~~~~~

[motownfiction]

19-25, 36, 37

19. how do you keep yourself motivated?

you know, it's honestly not that hard for me because of the way i balance it? i work on school stuff a lot. so much that i will always need a break. this is that break.

20. how many WIPs and story ideas do you have?

two mini series that i would love to update if i ever had the time. i also kick around ideas about elenore from time to time. i've been thinking about whether she stays a lawyer, whether she stays married to sean despite really loving him, etc. i think the answer is yes to both, especially the sean thing. but i kick stuff around just to see what might work and what would not.

21. who is/are your favourite character(s) to write?

lucy and sam. i don't know how many different ways i can say it, lol. they're the characters that feel the most me to me. i love being able to be both of them. i think lucy is who i really am, and sam is the character i play in front of people i don't know that well (e.g. students). either way, they're both very real parts of me, and i love them. but like, you know i love will and sadie, too. so those original four are always going to be my favorites to write about, but i have an even more special place for lucy and sam.

22. who is/are your favourite pairing(s) to write?

i'm going to be difficult and answer this question in a few ways, lmao.

my favorite canon endgame romantic relationship is obviously lucy and will. god. they love each other so much. it's unreal. he is devoted to her, and she is devoted to him. they like each other. they understand each other. they grow up together in a way that the other pairings do not, and i think that makes them so much stronger. like, yeah, sadie and daniel were kids together, and they'll always have that frame of reference. but lucy and will catapulted into adulthood at age sixteen together, and no one will ever quite understand that time like they do. they're bonded by mutual admiration, trust, and unique circumstances. i love that they're a given for each other, but neither of them ever takes the other for granted.

my favorite canon non-endgame romantic relationship is sam and carrie. i don't count sam and steph because even though they weren't technically together at the time of sam's death, i think it's either strongly implied or just outright stated that they were headed there. but oh, sam and carrie. what could have been! like lucy and will, i think they get each other in ways that no one else can really broach. sam understands carrie's quirks and the creativity that rattles awkwardly inside her mind. he wants to help her let it out, while charlie is too often oblivious to the fact that it's there. and carrie can see through to sam's silent emotions, see through his jokes, his song-and-dance numbers. sam is so easy to pair with all sorts of characters. i can't deny that. but there is a large part of me that thinks, even with steph in the picture, sam should have ended up with carrie. steph can still end up with katie! but sam and carrie should have been forever.

and my favorite non-canon romantic relationship, which could have happened in a very different world where very different things occurred, is lucy and sam. i think, in a world where neither of them ever knew will, or will had never been born, this would have been a great partnership. their personalities just sing to each other, imo. she is the seriousness to his silliness, but they are both so brilliant, so witty, so cool. these two very unusual, very glittery people could have been a great team. in their reality, they have no romantic or sexual tension whatsoever, as they're both busy being obsessed with will (💜). but they could have been together in another world.

23. favourite author

idk, lol ... jane austen, charlotte brontë, virginia woolf, charles dickens, chinua achebe, some works by jerry spinelli (really just stargirl and its sequel), katherine mansfield ... it could go on.

24. favourite genre to write and read

i mean, broadly, realistic fiction with an emphasis on youth and coming-of-age. and you know what i mean by that: not necessarily school dances and first crushes, not necessarily high school stuff. but just a young person navigating a difficult situation.

25. favourite part of writing

dialogue and character dynamics.

36. last sentence you wrote

She’s not supposed to know anything, but she can’t help reading Elenore like a dog-eared copy of a deeply old book.

37. first sentence or your current WIP

Lucy knows what’s been going on, but she hasn’t told anyone yet.

[chuuyanakaahara]

i completely agree with most of what you said tbh!!!!!!

just 2 things:

1. i think that izukus world view could definitely have changed more & he should have had more moments of weakness like you said, but him being someone who could do nothing then being able to do everything definitely does play into his character. from the very beginning he had been so behind everyone else, and in a world where heroes are everywhere and everyone is meant to aspire to be a hero, as that’s the greatest thing you can be, being quitkless threw him way behind the starting line. he had to work so hard at all times to even get a chance to catch up to the rest, and he had to throw himself into this entirely. so when he DOES get a quirk, he still has this self sacrificial worthless attitude towards himself because before thats all he was. he was always seen as useless by everyone around him and he heavily internalized that. so when he got his quirk, he thought the only way to prove himself as worthy was to be useful. all might is very much the same way in that respect!!!

2. also! just curious, i understand why you dislike izuku because of how his potential is never really filled, but why do u dislike all might?

oh you're definitely right !! i think that's another compelling aspect of izuku's character, ngl. you start behind everyone else. you have to work twice as hard. there is something innately "wrong" with you when you're born. you can't help it. but it means you can't do the one thing you want to do. so when you finally, finally get the once-in-a-million chance to do that, you throw your all into it. the premise is astounding; the execution leaves some to be desired. it isn't that i dislike him, it's more that izuku just doesn't interest me as much ? like, i can totally acknowledge that, without the flaws of being a protagonist, izuku's a great character. just doesn't quite compel me u know ?

and ! all might... hiss. no hate to anyone who really enjoys his character, bc i can see the appeal, it just isn't for me. for me, i think all might was introduced to BE a big, important character, and i think it just fell flat. yes, yes, he's withering away, he gives this kid his quirk, but all might is both the ultimate perpetrator of this broken system & a victim of it himself, something that he doesn't realize and passes on without acknowledgement. i think it's important to understand that the "child soldier" thing really isn't meant for kid's media (because it's supposed to be for kids, they don't want adults fighting), but bnha isn't made for, like, 8 year olds, and they are child soldiers. all might, imo, never acknowledges or understands the burden that he has put on these kids by the simple act of upkeeping the status quo: and when he is no longer able to keep up the status quo, he passes down the mantle to a child. ik it isn't that deep, and tbf he's just never compelled me, but i just can't find any good reason that all might exists as he does in canon despites acting as a narrative tool. not that being a narrative tool is a bad thing, but all might's role is antithetical to the system change that bnha needs. on the flip side, i definitely see how that can be part of what makes him compelling, just. not to me, you know ?

[margridarnauds]

🎬🚦💎 mwah

THANK YOU BRO ILY

🎬 If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

My beloved Abominationverse for a full series covering the entirety of the French Revolution, from Lazare and Ronan as children with the American Revolution hanging over their heads to their reunion as adults shortly before the fall of the Bastille. For actors...I've always thought that Louis Garrel had the right look for Lazare. Though, frankly, if I'm going to cast a 40 year old in the role, I'm just going to beg Matthieu Carnot on my hands and knees to come back. Camille Lou is still gorgeous so she can play Olympe again. Louis Delort...he's lost the scruffy little boy look, but he could still play Ronan. Nathalia as Solène again...

The problem is that I have a combination of three casts in my mind when I'm writing 1789, but I really do still primarily visualize the French cast, I think. The one thing I'd prioritize would be that Ronan and Solène should both be Breton, ideally both being fluent in Brezhoneg, because so much of how I write them is informed by that.

🚦What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?

Ambiguous to bittersweet. I don't like writing bad endings, or at least not straightforward bad endings, but I don't believe that many of my fics end on a straightforwardly happy note, because, in real life, there aren't many truly happy endings. Instead, you grab moments of peace, you enjoy the calm before the next storm, you enjoy moments in bed with your partner, or celebrations with your friends, you hope the fog gets lifted for a little while, and you enjoy the peace while it lasts. "And for that moment, all was fine" is very much the vibe of most of my endings -- it doesn't make promises that I can't keep or they can't keep, but it says that, for a little while at least, they can be happy.

💎 Do you often write about a relationship or focus on an individual?

I feel like...it's a combination. Because the relationship is at the core of it, yeah, but something that I've found about me is that I ALSO need to focus on the individual. Something that's interesting, when you're dealing with pieces of media that strongly encourage the consumer to customize a character -- especially, say, video games -- is that it's very common to get 2nd person fics or Reader x Character fics, or else OC player characters who are meant to be self-inserts. And that's great, I'm not going to knock anyone for doing that, but it's not to my taste. I *need* to be able to get into my characters' minds and to be able to really personalize them, I need to figure out how they work and what is going on in their heads, beyond just "X Character is Attractive." The goal is that, when I'm doing my job right, the reader can see how the relationship is developing the character and how this character is developing the relationship.

With what I'm doing with BG3, for example...Kitrye's my girl, she's my main character, and her relationship with Raphael is, imo, the single most important one she has, even though her relationships with her companions are also important in various ways. But I can also tell you exactly how she works outside of him, some of the quirks she has, why her thought process is the way it is, etc. And if I ever actually WRITE the fic where she goes back to Menzoberranzan...her relationship with Raphael develops, but it's also very much about her and her relationship with Drow culture. He's her evil, hot arm candy.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Love Me Tender•

Summary: After waiting, watching, and wanting, Tamaki finally has a way to get to you. He's willing to do use some questionable methods, make deals with shifty friends, whatever it takes. He'll have you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Tamaki Amajiki x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, coercion, sabotage, manipulation, hard dom Tamaki, slight brat reader, mostly sub reader, unprotected sex, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle play (oral, vaginal, anal, gagging), bondage (with tentacles), mild dumbification, degradation, spit play, cum play, wittle bit of bloodplay, creampie, marking, possession kink, collaring. Kinda-sorta dub-con (not really imo but warning just in case)

Word Count: 11,576

A/N: Jesus fucking christ I did it.

Part One: Porcelain Obsession

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   Tamaki awoke painfully this morning, body aching and covered in dried sweat. It wasn't a feeling to be proud of, but it was a feeling he cherished. 

   Your stolen underwear is clutched in his hand still, like a lifeline. It still smells just a little bit like you… but not enough. He couldn't feel you or taste you or hold you. He had to figure something out, quickly. He had to find a way to make you his. 

   Luckily, Tamaki knows exactly how to make that happen…

***                                         

  You hang up your apron with a deep sigh, wiping sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Thank god it's only a half day, you finally have an afternoon off, a day to spend by yourself. 

   You bid your coworkers farewell and head out of the shop. You wander home, earbuds in as you try to drown out the noise of the city. Once you're home, you notice a small box on your doorstep. 

   It's a pretty little gold box with purple ribbon, a tiny note is attached to the top. The scribbled writing reads,

   "I thought this would look pretty on you, I'm sorry about the weird exit last night. I'd like to take you to get some coffee to make up for it, if you'll let me." - Tamaki

   Your heart flutters a bit at the note, you had deduced you were nothing more than a charity case. Him walking you home was just what he felt was fair in exchange for the use of your phone, he didn't really… like you? Did he? 

   His exit was just a little bit strange, he seemed almost panicked. You wanted to ask if everything was ok, but figure it best to stay out of a hero's business. Who knows what door you'd be opening if you started to ask too many questions.

   Beneath his note is a phone number, obviously his. You can't call him right away, it might seem desperate, but you can open the box. 

   When the lid comes off, you gasp quietly at what's hidden inside. On a delicate silver chain sits one lovely little pearl. You stand there, amazed and confused. Wondering why on earth somebody like Suneater would leave such a precious little gift for you. 

***

   You called the number left on the note about an hour after receiving it. As soon as Tamaki picks up the phone your heart leaps into your throat. 

   "I didn't think y-you'd call." He laughs afterwards, but you can hear traces of genuine anxiety underneath. 

   "Well, what kind of an asshole would I be if I didn't call back the hero that saved me from a lonely walk home?" Your face crinkles up at your horrid attempt at flirting. 

   He doesn't seem to mind, though. He gives you a sweet laugh, putting some of your nerves at ease. 

   "So, uh- coffee?" He wonders. 

   "I'd love to, I just got off work, but I imagine you're busy doing hero stuff. We can-"

   "No I'm not busy." He says quickly, his urgency makes you smile. He's almost boyish in his approach, and it's very charming. 

   Somehow, between the two of you suffering your way through the conversation, you set a time for coffee.

***

    Tamaki makes a quick stop before meeting you, visiting a horrid friend of his in an alleyway a hero should never be unless he's kicking someone's ass. 

   His "friend" turns out to be a little more than your average criminal. He's a wicked looking man, with a mess of black hair and an abundance of scarring littering his body. 

   They call him Dabi. 

   "So what's the plan here? Am I just scarin' the poor girl or do I get to have some real fun?" His smile is devilish, and his eyes are telling. 

   It makes Tamaki's skin crawl, he stares daggers at the man leaning against the brick of the alleyway. 

   "If you touch her, I will gut you like a fucking fish." Tamaki says, he's full of rage, but he says it so calmly, so matter of fact. 

   "You can try." Dabi laughs, "You forget how easy it is to cook seafood." 

   Tamaki stands there for a brief second, watching the villain, weighing his options. 

   "I'm not here for banter, can you do the job or not?" His words are clipped, strangely articulate compared to his usual stutter. 

   "Yeah whatever, I got nothin' planned for tonight, and I do love making little girls scream." He tilts his head back against the wall as Tamaki turns to stalk away. 

   "Hey, Suneater." Dabi calls out with a lazy voice. 

   Tamaki freezes and keeps his back to Dabi. He turns his head to the side and waits for him to speak. 

   "Send her my way when you're done with her." If Tamaki had less of the public eye on him, he would have slit Dabi's throat then and there. 

   Instead, he swallows his rage as he tosses a hefty wad of cash over his shoulder. 

   "Don't be late." 

***

   "You always just drink it black? Not even a little bit of sugar?' You ask, astounded by Tamaki's ability to drink the bitter liquid without any sweetener.

   "Sugar is kind of useless for me, I try to eat things that'll help me with m-my quirk." He explains, his deep eyes wander while he talks, like he's watching for something. 

   That must come with being a hero. 

   "Does coffee help your quirk?" You ask, a smile playing at your lips when you see him frown at his drink. 

   "No, but it helps me focus."

   You nod playfully before taking a sip, the cafe he's brought you to is incredibly charming. It's not an overly hip establishment, it's just a sweet little hidden gem. Tucked away into a forgotten street, it gives the impression that it's a well kept secret between two best friends. 

   "Do you feel like people ask too much of you?" You question. It slips out so quickly, running away from you after launching out of your lips. 

   Your hatred for small talk gets the best of you and you jump the gun, as always. You want to hide, but not before you apologise a thousand times for being too straightforward. 

   Tamaki looks at you thoughtfully, his eyes show that he's shocked, but not offended.

   "Sometimes. It can feel like people expect me t-to be the…" He pauses for a moment, mentally grasping for the right word. 

   "It feels like people expect Heroes to be this ultimate, universal band-aid. In a lot of ways, we are, but we're still h-human… I-I'm still human…" His voice slows down by the end of his sentence, like he's realized he might be over sharing. 

   But, you asked him, you wanted to know. You actually care about him? Every bone in his body is screaming at him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and run away. He feels some carnal desire to just keep you. Hide you from every selfish asshole that would take advantage of the starstruck look in your beautiful eyes. 

   He can't, though… not yet. 

   "S-sorry…" He whispers. 

   And then, you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. He feels the contact all the up his arm, into his chest, into his heart. 

   So you do want him too. 

   "Please don't be sorry, I liked listening to you talk." You say quietly. 

   You did love it, you loved it because you've felt so unheard, so unseen. Being able to provide somebody else with a pair of listening ears serves as a kind of relief for those feelings. 

   "Can you tell me more?" You test, hand squeezing his own a little more. 

   He looks almost elated, thrilled to be seen, excited to be heard. Most of all, he's itching to finally have you. 

***

   The date was nothing short of wonderful, filled with cute little fumblings of words, hands brushing but never holding, and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves with each other. 

   You flop onto your bed, reminiscent of a teenager who's just had their first kiss. You didn't kiss him goodnight, you chickened out of that. But you did press your lips against his cheek for a brief moment, which seemed to have quite the effect on him. 

      His breath hitched, his fists balled at his sides, acting like he'd never been touched so tenderly. It made you wonder, is the Hero as lonely as you are? 

   You glance over at your night stand, seeing the pretty little necklace sitting in its box. You're washed with guilt as you realize you forgot to wear it to coffee, knowing he must have wanted you to. You take it out of the box carefully before pulling it around your neck and hooking it into place. It fits like a choker, snug against your skin, but it feels good to have it so close.

   You're ripped from your musing when you hear the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. 

   Inside your house. 

   Your blood chills, hair stands up on the back of your neck and you rise from your bed slowly. You try to talk yourself down, kill the first nerves that consume your chest. It was probably a poorly balanced vase… except, you don't own any vases. It could have been a picture? Nope, not a picture, it was just glass… like a window breaking. 

   There's a gun in your office, but you're in the bedroom. You scan the room for something, anything that could be used for defense. Of course, nothing but a damn notebook. 

   The police, you should call the police. Your heart clenches when you hear the threatening sound of heavy footsteps falling down your hallway. 

   They're heading straight for your bedroom. 

   You lunge at the door, hand landing on the doorknob just as it begins to turn. Desperately, uselessly, you try to lock it. It's too late, though, it's already opening by the time your thumb lands on the lock. 

   You can hear your blood rushing when the door swings towards you, a large black boot planted on the other side to force it open. 

   "Sorry 'bout the window, sweetheart. I tried the front door, but it was locked." The intruder chuckles as he invades your bedroom. 

   You stumble back as you take in his sewn together form, a mess of black leather and scars. Wild, electric blue eyes devour your trembling form as you press yourself back into the wall. 

   "Oh, hon, you're shakin' like you're in danger. I ain't gonna hurt you, I'm gonna do the opposite." He stalks towards you, somehow moving in slow motion but with incredible speed all at the same time. 

   Your phone sits on your night stand, only feet away but all too unreachable. You're caged in by his arms as he towers over you, filling your nose with some horrid, smokey smell. 

   "P-please, you can have anything, j-just don't-" 

   Your words halt when a long, pale finger traces over your collar bone. 

   "Don't what? 'J-just don't' what?" He mocks you, eyes lit with a sadistic amusement. 

   Your heart rattles in your chest as tears prick your eyes, you can't fight him, he's huge. You don't have your gun. You don't have your phone. You're fucked. 

   "Cryin' already? What's the matter, doll?-" The hand traces your collar bone moves up to wrap around your throat, "Not a fan of villains?" 

   Your hands paw at his wrist, you will yourself to sputter something out, any kind of objection to whatever he has planned. You try to whimper out a 'stop', but when your mouth finally forms the word, the voice isn't yours, but it's familiar.

   It's low, clipped and dangerous as it barks out the warning. 

   Suneater. 

   Suddenly, as if he's being yanked to the heavens by the Gods, your assailant is torn away from you. A large, red tentacle captures him by the waist and throws him across the room. You collapse to the ground instantly, curling around your legs as you hear the muffled sounds of a violent fight. 

   You hide in your own little world, trembling and clenching yourself. You take one peak from between your arms, just to see Tamaki place the intruder in a chokehold before barking some profane threat at him. 

   The villain is smiling the whole time, he even winks at you. 

   "If I ever see you near her again, you won't walk away with your life." Tamaki snarls as the stranger breaks away from his hold.  

   "She's not worth the trouble." He laughs, raising one hand before sending brilliant blue flames blasting towards Tamaki. 

   You scream involuntarily, reaching out for the Hero as he jumps away from the flames. Once they're gone, the villain is gone as well. Like some cheap magician disappearing off stage. The room is almost entirely untouched by the burst of fire, at most, the tip of your comforter is singed. 

   The second the fire is gone, Tamaki is walking towards you urgently, pulling you to your feet so he can cradle your face. 

   "Are you ok? Did he touch you? What happened?" His inky eyes search your face frantically. 

   You don't answer, you just stutter, clinging to his hands until you can finally squeak out, "I'm ok." 

   His shoulders drop as he sighs, hands loosening their grip. His eyes flicker down to the necklace, his gaze softens when he sees how pretty it looks on you. 

   "Y-you… Do you like it?" He asks timidly, glancing up at you. 

    You breathe for a moment, slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in attention. 

   "I love it." You say quietly, still trembling. 

   He just saved you, really saved you from a real villain who was planning God knows what, and he's worried about your necklace? 

   "It's so pr-pretty on you…" He reaches down to touch it, leaving one hand on your cheek. 

   You take the moment to breathe, remind yourself that you're safe, that you're with a hero now. You observe Tamaki's almost casual appearance, a dry fit shirt and simple tactical pants. It almost helps you relax, seeing him like so… at ease? 

   His fingers play with the pearl, deep eyes transfixed. Something nearly uncontrollable swells within his chest. It burns and aches and eats at him. You're so close, you're so warm, so soft. He could have you, he could just take you. 

   "Tamaki?" You prod gently, your own chest stirs, and something pulls you towards him.

   His eyes snap up to yours, and something shifts in the air. It feels sticky, heavy, too hard to breathe. His gorgeous form towers over you, pressing you back up against the wall as his eyes devour your trembling body. 

   "Thank you f-for saving me." You whisper.

   He nods earnestly, his breathing is shaking, his hands feel like they're holding back. 

   "Anything. Anything for you." 

   That line, that makes you ache.

   How long have you felt so lukewarm, so overlooked and forgotten? Too long, far too long. Now, with Tamaki looking down at you like you're priceless, you feel fiery, you feel seen and remembered. 

   Your hands grasp at his wrists, your eyes flick down to his parted lips. You're not sure what you want to happen next, but you want him as close as you can get him.

   "If you let me start, I will not stop." His voice drops and it makes your breath catch. 

   He feels it too, then. 

   Is it the high of what you've just gone through? Is it just your body trauma bonding with the man that just saved you? Or do you really, really want him so bad it hurts? 

   His tone is warning and his eyes are frantic. 

   "Please." Is the only thing that falls from your quivering lips. 

   Consequences be damned, motives especially be damned. You need him, and he needs you. That's enough explanation for tonight. 

   He consumes you much like the villains flames, his lips are on yours almost too fast, his hands are greedy as they hold your face to his. 

   While you feel similar to a lovesick girl getting kissed for the first time, Tamaki feels like a prisoner finally set free. He feels like a lion that was held in a cage and taunted with a piece of meat. He feels like the door has finally been opened, and he can finally sink his teeth in. 

   "I wanna feel you." He brings his mouth away from yours with much reluctance, leaving his forehead pressed against yours. 

   You flounder for a moment, with your mouth feeling dry and your limbs feeling heavy. 

   "Where?" You choke out, searching his face for any tell. 

   "God, everywhere." It's a broken request, said like a secret. 

   "Take it. Whatever you want." Your boldness surprises you both. 

   You're hooked on the exhilaration, you're craving more, you want to feel something. Even after just a walk home and a coffee date, you want to feel it with Tamaki. 

   "Don't give me that…" He shivers as he presses his body against yours, making it very evident how much of an affect you're having on him. 

   "I'll ruin you." He whimpers when you grind back against him, your hands tug at his shirt and you look up at him with wide eyes. 

   "Who said I don't want that?" 

   You both stand there frozen, waiting for the other to move, to prove that this isn't a dream. 

   "Fuck." 

   His hands descend from cradling your face so they can wrap around your neck with the most gentle grip. 

   He watches you intently, feels your breath quicken, cherishing the way you bite your lip when his fingers tighten slightly. 

   Internally, Tamaki is fighting the most challenging battle he's ever had to face. He's had to take on a wide variety of formidable enemies, but right now, nothing seems more formidable than having to hold himself back when he finally has you in his arms. 

   He wants to take and take and take, for as long as you'll let him… maybe even longer. 

   She's mine now.

   Something shifts in his gaze just then, making him look almost primal. It makes your chest feel frozen, makes it difficult to breathe or focus. 

   His hands shift around your neck, they feel almost… slippery? Their texture is different, their movement is more fluid. Then, you feel it, the distinct sensation of a suction cup latching against your skin. 

   Tentacles. He's made each of his fingers a tentacle.

   Your eyes stay locked on his, both of you in a heated trance as you watch how the other responds. 

   One slick tendril crawls up to latch onto your chin, he turns your head upwards and to the side with a thoughtful look. It's almost like he's sizing you up, appraising you. 

   After a thick moment of silence, he finally speaks. 

   "I'm going to make you cry." It's a depraved promise, beautifully whispered with no shame. 

   You stand there, held by him, captured by him. You're helplessly entranced, all rational thought is long gone as you reel over the implications of his statement. All you can know for sure, is you want more. 

    Despite every red flag, regardless of any common sense, you want more. 

   "I dare you." You say back to him, the desperation to feel anything other than mundane spurs you onward.

   He receives the words like it's a smack to the face, some shock evident in his eyes. He didn't take you for a brat, but he can certainly roll with it. 

   "You're gonna make this fun for me, aren't you?" He questions, his tentacles grip you tighter now, reminding you who has the high ground. 

   Mine. 

   The air shifts, something heavier takes over the mood, it settles in your ribs and wraps around your heart. 

   He guides you away from the wall, shepherding you around until your back is towards your bed. He starts walking you backwards until your knees buckle once they hit the mattress. 

   You sit there, gazing up at him, held still by his quirk, transfixed by the power he exudes as he towers over you. 

   "Has anyone ever had you before?" He asks, finally returning his hand to normal so he can cradle your cheek. 

   The question has your stomach burning with nerves. 

   No, nobody ever has. 

   You shake your head, looking down, cheeks burning as you try to hide your embarrassment. 

   His reaction shocks you immensely, his whole body shutters and he drops to his knees. His hands settle on your waist as he moves between your legs. 

   "Th-this is… all mine then?" He asks, he rubs his thumbs over the bottoms of your ribs affectionately. 

   His eyes are wide and reverent as he waits for your answer, looking like you're some anointed goddess. His eyes skate over every feature he can, and he cherishes each one. 

   Your confession nearly knocks the wind out of him, especially with how sweet you look, all blushing and embarrassed. It makes his need to rip you apart even stronger. 

   "Please...let me give you everything…" His hands tighten on you and you feel them shaking.

   You study him for a second, at a complete loss for words, he seems so… devoted. It pulls on your heart, clouds your mind and lights your body up. How could you possibly say no to him? How on earth could you turn someone away when they’re looking at you like you’re placed on an altar ready to be worshiped. 

   Carefully, like you’re trying not to frighten a beast, you reach out and touch his face. He moves into your touch like a lonely cat, desperate for affection and recognition. 

   “Please…” You breathe. 

   And that’s all it takes. 

   His breath leaves his lungs in a harsh rush as he moves forward like a leopard, lean and precise as he forces you onto your back. 

   Your blood rushes so quickly you swear you can hear it, your mouth goes dry as he stares you down. He’s suddenly less reverent, now he’s ravenous. A dangerous, carnivorous look dances in his dark eyes. His judgement is clouded just like yours, only it fuels him, while your state is much more terrified. Any spunk you had in you is thrown out the window as he leers over you.

   You shrink into the mattress as he hovers above you on all fours, heavy eyelids and parted lips giving him a nearly drugged look. 

   “When you say everything-” He whispers, moving so he can settle on his knees between your open legs, “Do you mean this too?” He drops his hips as he questions you, pressing something very hard into your thigh, something very intimidating. 

   He watches your eyes go wide, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you gasp after he rolls his hips. His arms cage you, a strong hand placed on either side of your head, the position makes you feel so pathetic, so helpless, but it gives you an incredible rush. 

   “Don’t look so scared, it won’t hurt.” He dips down to press his hot, open mouth against your neck, tongue lapping at your pulse. A dark chuckle leaves his chest, “Not much, at least.” 

   Then he’s definitely less reverent, he’s no longer worshipful, he’s a wicked, unleashed best. His hands are selfish as they remove your clothes, his mouth is voracious against your skin. He has you panting and twitching in seconds, musing at you when your reactions are particularly strong. 

   It’s when he snakes down your body, wetting your skin with his tongue, settling between your breasts so he can suck harshly at the heated skin, that you finally feel something break within you. You arch into his touch, fisting your hands in his raven hair, whimpering so beautifully for him as he works you up. 

   He knows what he’s doing, he’s skilled, well equipped for pulling you apart. He’s already descended into some debauched state of being, and he’s pulling you down with him. 

   “Nobody’s ever tasted this sweet little cunt before, have they?” He asks against your skin, latching his mouth back to the spot he’s focused on marking, but looking up at you with inquiring eyes. 

   You try to swallow, shake your head, do something, but all you can do is lay there naked and gasping.

   He laughs again, a wicked thing that leaves his chest like a wisp of wind. He slides a hand up your body, he flicks over your nipple with his thumb on the way up, pulling another whimper out of you. 

   His hand latches onto your jaw, then he shakes your head for you, doing what he knows you can’t. 

   “Oh baby…” He sighs, “You saved it for me?” He teases, hips grinding against you, the cloth of his pants creates a strange kind of friction against your clit, not unpleasant, but not pleasurable. Where the hell did the sweet, stuttering hero go? If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks deviant… almost villainous.

   “Tama- please.” You shiver, not sure what you’re asking for, but certain that you need more. 

   “Good girl, talk to me.” His hand slinks down your throat before he rises to his knees. 

   Your eyes lock on the tightness of his pants, trying not to panic at the sheer size of the imprint he’s making on them. 

   His shirt is pulled over his head, messing his hair in the most handsome way, and the breath is ripped from your lungs. 

   He’s stunning, broad and strong looking. He’s all porcelain skin over well trained muscle. Built perfectly for the work he does. Built perfectly for ripping apart poor little girls like you. 

   “I liked the look you got when I had my tentacles on you.” He sighs, letting a hand fall to your bare stomach so he can trace lazy circles against you. 

   “Did you like that? Do you want me to use my tentacles to play with you?” He questions. 

   His voice is low, it’s rich and warm and dripping with seduction. Nothing like the tentative, wobbly tone he usually has. It rips the ground out from underneath you, leaves you panting and blinking like a brain dead fool as you gawk up at his prowling form. 

   “Just a yes or no, if you can manage it.” He smiles sweetly up at you, splaying his hand across your quaking abdomen. 

   You breathe deeply, trying to steady yourself, trying to catch up with what he’s said. 

   “Y-yes.” You whisper, barely audible, hardly heard over your labored breathing. 

   His other hand mirrors the one he has on you, sliding around to hold you by the waist, a gentle cage meant to establish dominance. 

   “Yes… what?” He prompts, pressing his thumbs down. 

   You falter then, your tongue feels heavy, your mind slows and you’re suddenly void of all vocabulary. Were you really really about to let one of the most well known pros wreck your body with his quirk? Were you actually laid out for him like this? You know so little of him, your only information gathered from small talk, but something about that had you buzzing. 

   You could be whoever you want to be, you don’t have to be the floundering virgin. You don’t have to be so damn shell shocked. 

   “Yes, D-daddy.” You test, hoping to God or whoever is listening that you got the right name. 

   By the way his eyes flutter closed, the way his grip tightens, the way his body tenses, you sure as hell did. 

   “That’s it.” He sighs, “-and what about you?” He wonders, his hold going gentle again. 

   You? What about you? 

   Tamaki watches you carefully, barely containing the raging storm inside him, barely holding back the carnal urge to turn every limb to a pretty purple tentacle and stuff you until you’re crying for mercy. 

   Not yet, don’t fuck this up. 

   “Princess? Darling?” He asks, lowering himself back down to kiss down your stomach, looking up at you through his thick lashes. 

   “Whatever you want.” You answer. Your sweet, sacred submission makes him close his eyes and breathe in. 

   Hold it. Not. Yet.

   “You’re like an angel.” He breathes, making you shiver under the weight of the high praise. 

   He notices your reaction immediately, smiling to himself. 

   “So that’s it.” He presses a long kiss just under your belly button, bringing attention to how naked you are, and how naked he is not. 

   Your thighs squeeze together and your arms come up to cover your chest, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to keep it all out of view. 

   His hands are on your wrist and his body is crouched over yours again before you can blink. He pins your hands beside your head, looking down at you with some wild, unbridled kind of look in his eyes. 

   “You do not get to hide from me.” His shoulders flex as he pushes your wrists down into the mattress, earning a whine from you as the pressure starts to ache. 

   “You’re mine. That means I get all of you.” He bites the words off, but keeps his voice quiet. 

   You should be scared, crying even, but the only thing you feel is exhilaration, the ache between your legs and the fluttering of your heart as he overpowers you with just the look in his eyes and a few harsh words. 

   “Do you understand me?” He eases up on your wrists slightly, looking more stern, less unhinged. 

   “I-I do, I’m sorry.” You whimper out. 

   He considers you for a brief second, eyes growing softer as he watches the way your pretty lip trembles. 

   “It’s ok.” He releases your wrists and speaks gently, “You’re ok.” 

   The reassurances makes you dizzy, especially in contrast with how rough he just was. 

   "Hold still for me, angel." Then he’s back to mouthing at your skin.

   His teeth meet your collarbone and your hands reach for his messy hair. 

   “There?” He asks against you, a smile in his voice as he lets his teeth gather your skin again. The spot he finds makes you dizzy, you feel the heat spread across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. 

   Tamaki is still stuck in his own chains, fighting against them as he focuses on the way you twitch for him, the way your body rolls when he bites harder. 

   So she likes it.

   Your body heats up, it's all so overwhelming. It's so different from anything you've ever felt, and you can't believe it's with him. 

    Then his kisses get more sloppy, his teeth are sharper against you. He leaves you shining with his spit, painted in blooming purple and red bruises as he begins his journey down your body. 

   "Da-addy." You sniffle when he bites into the underside of your breast. 

   It doesn't feel loving, it doesn't feel passionate, it just feels rough. 

   "Hush." He mumbles against you, "If you can't take this I might as well stop now." He looks up at you, challenging you. 

   "I can t-take it, I can." You breathe, nodding, looking at him with begging eyes, "Please, don't stop." 

   He honest to god growls against you. You couldn't possibly know what you do to him, how sweet your willingness sounds, how beautiful you look laid out for him. He knows he should take his time, and he resents that fact. He almost resents you for being so sweet and needy. With all the things he wants to do to you, he almost, almost, wishes you had at least some experience. This makes you his completely, though, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

   His hot mouth moves lower and lower until he's tonguing at your hip bone, pulling the skin into his mouth so he can work his teeth against it. He will mark you wherever he can, as long as you'll let him. 

   Your hips roll up against him, making him smirk at how needy you're acting. 

   "Ask for it." He whispers, hungry hands slide up the outsides of your thighs, "Ask for what you want." 

   His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, sending the breath from your lungs as he glares up at you. He lets his wet tongue loll out to give a teasing flick against the crux of your thigh. 

   You take a deep breath in and cling to the sheets for dear life, "Please, use your mouth on me." 

   He smiles so sweetly then, looking mildly amused. 

   "Here?" He goes back to that same spot, sucking and teasing, looking all too pleased with himself. 

   "Be specific, angel, tell me where you need me." 

   Tamaki knows for a fact that he didn't have to spend his time making you ask for things, he knows what you want, he knows how to give them to you. He could take whatever he needs, probably without much a fight from you, but what fun would that be? He would miss the pretty blush creeping across your skin, and the sweet little tears in your big eyes. No, he wouldn't be missing this, not for the world. 

    "I wanna feel your tongue, please, use your mouth on m-my cunt." You shiver, timid and uncertain about your phrasing. 

   It seems to do the trick though, because Tamaki's eyes nearly roll to the back of his head. 

   He answers with a low moan before grabbing you by the insides of your thighs so he can spread you open. Once the air of the room hits you, you're made painfully aware of just how soaked you are. 

   It makes Tamaki look like a wild man, all blown out pupils blushing cheeks. 

   Almost in slow motion, he presses his tongue into the spot right above your clit, making you whine and buck against his mouth. 

   "Needy little thing." He says, giving your thighs a gentle squeeze, "But I suppose I have teased enough." 

   Then he's on you, and the second his tongue meets your weak spot you know you're ruined. You know that not one person will ever hold a candle to Tamaki Amajiki. 

   He pulls away for only a second, just to whisper praises up to you, "Your cunt tastes like everything I've ever needed." 

   You huff at him in disbelief, not knowing what to say or do, heart soaring because of his confession.

   Then he dives back in, and he gets sloppy with it, setting a pace that feels so good it aches. The heat spreads through every limb, and settles somewhere deep in your chest. Everything tingles and burns, and breathing seems nearly impossible. 

   Internally, Tamaki is raging. He’s so close to losing it, he feels himself slipping, your taste spreads across his tongue is the culmination of months of watching and waiting and wanting. He wants to drown in you, he wants to rip you to shreds. No more watching you through windows, no more fucking his fist while he wishes with everything he has that it was your precious little pussy. He has you now, spread open and vulnerable. He knows he could shove your face into the pillows and let loose on you, stuff every hole with an invasive tentacle, the thought makes him even more feral, it makes him work even harder as he eats you. 

   Every roll of his tongue against your clit makes you throb and buck, which makes him growl and push you down against the mattress. He's loud and messy, slurping and moaning, letting it drip down his chin and his throat, never once letting up. 

   Your head is thrown back against the pillows, eyes drilled shut. You know damn well if you saw him, you wouldn't last another second. He builds you up until your thighs are trembling and you're a whiny little mess. 

   Perfect. 

   Suddenly, the texture of his tongue changes drastically. It's much more slippery, and much thicker. Your head shoots up, and you nearly sob at what you see. Tamaki, with his eyes wild and his jaw dropped, is letting a wicked looking tentacle hang from his mouth. 

   His quirk. 

   He smirks up at you as the tip of it writhes against your clit, flicking and circling as he watches the tears start to fall from your face. You can't possibly keep up, you didn't know anything could ever feel this good. 

   You watch the suction cups ripple as he moves the muscle against you, then he does the unthinkable. He latches one of them onto your clit. Your eyes cross and you bring a fist to your mouth so you can bite on it and muffle your screams. 

   He hates that. 

   With another rumbling growl, he lets his hands turn to tentacles as well. You watch helplessly as he snakes them up your arms, ripping your hand away from your mouth so he can pin both limbs to the bed. The tentacles are strong, surprisingly warm, and so damn slippery. 

   It's hard to tell if you're close to the edge, it's felt that way the whole time, everything feels so hot and tight and good. 

   He smiles as you cry out and thrash against the bed, full of admiration for the usefulness of his own quirk.

   “Too much! D-daddy, it’s too much.” You sniffle out as you feel a stinging feeling in your cunt, it’s not necessarily an unpleasant sting, but it’s too much.

   He ignores your objection, choosing to simply suck harder at your overstimulated sweet spot. He revels in your pitifully low threshold, planning to do so much worse to your poor, inexperienced body. 

   The ache in your cunt continues to push the tears from your eyes, and eventually, drool from your mouth. The suction cup works dutifully against your clit, making you feel so overwhelmed you don't know if you can cum. 

   Then you feel the prodding at your entrance. 

   Then you really scream. 

   Holding that one little suction cup to your clit, he snakes the tip of his tentacle into your dribbling hole. He furrows his dark brows and moans against you when he feels how tight you are, desperate to feel the velvety walls around his cock.

   "Holy fucking shit." You gasp. 

   He watches the dramatic rise and fall of your quaking chest, your baffled eyes trying to keep track of everything happening to your body, and he swears he falls even more in love. 

   You're so willing, so compliant, so at his mercy. 

   He crooks the tip of the tentacle towards himself just a bit, and it's like you've been struck by lightning. You cum hard, harder than you ever have. You're a mess of twitching limbs, shivering as your cunt clenches so hard your feel it in your fucking chest. You sob into the air, broken and tearful as he works you through it. 

   You feel the hold on your arms tighten as your body arches away from the mattress. As you feel every inch of you ignite, you know that you're ruined for everyone else. 

   As soon as you lower yourself so you're flat to the mattress, the tentacles around your arms slip away and turn back into his hands. 

   The one between your legs still plays with you a little bit, prodding at your clit, lapping up your mess. Tamaki laughs as you jump and twitch, whimpering and gasping as he milks your body for every after shock you can give him. 

   You watch him pull the tentacle back into his mouth, flicking it over his lips to gather your release before disappearing into his mouth. You watch his eyes flutter shut, you watch him shiver and you hear the sweetest little moan in the back of his throat. 

   “You’re pretty when you cry.” He mumbles, looking up at you with the most tender look in his eyes. It’s a harsh contrast with all the cum dripping down his chin. 

   “You move a lot, too. It’s fun.” He states, almost like some kind of twisted review, “I don’t mind holding you down like that.” 

   The drop in the tone of his voice makes a chill creep up your spine. 

   “In fact…” He lifts himself up so he can start to crawl up your body, “I really, really enjoyed it.”

   You gasp for words, wind stolen from your lungs as he presses his messy mouth against your sternum. 

   “Something tells me you did too.” He whispers. 

   Your voice is finally found, somewhere deep in your chest, hidden and nearly forgotten, “What makes you say that?” You ask timidly. 

   He pulls his head up to look down at you with a confident smirk, “The mess you made.” 

   To prove his point, he swipes two fingers through your folds, gathering your creamy release before holding it up to the light. He looks so damn proud, like he’s showing off. 

   “Messy girl.” He smiles, as you watch him bring his coated fingers to his lips, sucking the sin off with a greedy pop from his lips. 

   “Oh, how selfish of me.” He sighs before grabbing you by the chin, “I should share.” 

   He pulls your mouth open then slowly leans over you so he can push the mess back through his lips. You oblige like a robot, stunned by the debauchery, letting him guide you through this act. He lets it fall from his lips slowly, creating a long string from his mouth to yours. The second it hits your tongue, something clicks for you. Something dark and smokey settles in your gut, something all consuming and blinding. It rids you of boundaries and reservations, it fills you with nothing but the man in front of you. 

   He watches you with a pointed gaze, shutting your jaw for you so you can swallow what he gave you. 

   “What do you say?” He asks. 

   You feel the burn in your chest, the embers in your skin, “More, please.” 

   “Fucking hell," The words tumble out as a breath mostly, "You want more?" He questions, grabbing you by the wrist so he can place your palm just above the waist of his pants. 

   You nod up at him, vision blurred by the heat of his skin against your palm. 

   "Then take it." He leans down to say it, biting off the words. 

   A challenge. 

   You can't possibly disappoint him, you can't possibly leave him wanting. Take it? How are you supposed to take it? 

   In a wild moment of confidence, mostly your body moving without the permission of your mind, you wrap your legs around his lean hips so you can flip him onto his back. 

   Your eyes lock the second you feel him pressing against you, hard and thick, and terribly intimidating in length. 

   He watches you for a moment, then hastily grabs you by the back of the neck so he can pull you down for another kiss. It's hot and needy, full of wicked want and unabashed selfishness. It tickles your ribs, creeps up your neck, and secures itself greedily around all of your common sense. 

   Tamaki had no intentions of letting you take anything, it's a game to him. He'll let you have your moment, let you feel like you have the reigns, but he'll take it right back. His has you under control, he vows that he always will.

   Your chest flutters with a clawing, aching feeling. 

   More more more. 

   "Fuck me." It's a prayer, whimpered against his delicate lips, "Please, fuck me." You dig your hands into his hair, cherishing the sweet noises they leave him as you beg. 

   Under control.

   "Tell me you need it." He sighs, answering your prayer by sending his hands down to work urgently at his belt. 

   "Tell me you need me." 

   You bring your face back from his just enough to look into his dark eyes, and you see tears welling in them. 

   He needs to feel needed.

   "Please, I need it, I need you, Suneater." 

   Everything freezes for a brief second, the air thickens and his eyes darken as you wait with a held breath for his next move. 

   Then, everything is flying around you. You feel the bite of fingertips against your waist, your stomach hits the mattress, possibly the sound of his pants being taken off. Your senses are dulled by the raging swirl of emotions beating inside you as your hips are lifted up, and a hand shoves your face into the pillow. 

   "Who's your hero?" His voice is rough, his hand gathers your hair and cranks your head to the side, "Who is your fucking hero?" He's barking the words out now, harsh and demanding. 

   And holy hell does it get you going. 

   "You are! You're my hero, Suneater." You cry out, craning your neck to look at him. 

   You expected furrowed brows, a straight mouth and furious eyes. What you're met with is nothing of the sort. A soft pink blush across his cheeks and the tips of his pointed ears, tears wetting his cheek, and a quivering lip. 

   With your eyes on him, he makes a show of sliding his hand down his front so he can grab at his length. He lets it fall against your ass, heavy and painfully hard. 

   "Don't forget that." He says simply, sliding his thick head down through your slicked lips. 

   The contact makes you both shudder deep in your souls. 

   "Daddy, please." Your voice is pitiful as you fist the sheets and press back against him. 

   "So slutty." He muses, releasing your hair so he can run his nails down your back, "Poor thing, never been fucked, needs it so bad, doesn't she?" 

   You nod fervently and fuss as he presses his head against your tight hole. You tense and shiver, not at all prepared for what's to come. 

   "I need it, I need you, please please please." You have one thought now, no reservations, you need him. 

   "I'm gonna ruin this little cunt." He says, a warning tone in his voice. 

   The hand that was tracing your spine suddenly feels very cold and wet. 

   His damn quirk. 

   He takes his time, letting the thick tentacle slither around your waist. It wraps around you twice, teasing you with the pops of the suction cups, leaving pretty purple circles all over your abdomen. 

   He lifts you easily, pulling you up so your back is pressed against his chest. 

   "Ruin it, please, it's yours, I'm yours." You sniffle, looking down at your trapped position. 

   With a low, menacing growl, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and his cock into your heat. 

   Tamaki holds his breath, willing himself not to fill you up right this second. You're too damn tight, so warm and velvety. You're so perfect, and so completely his. 

   You sob into the air, hands reaching out to hold the headboard as you feel like you're being ripped apart. 

   "Oh don't scream, Angel, people might think something's wrong." His voice is shaking now, and the hold on your waist tightens. 

   You focus on relaxing, letting your walls lose their tension, but it's all fruitless. He's too big, he fills you too well, and all you can do is take it. 

   "Here, let me give that mouth something to do." 

   His other hand comes around to hold your throat, turning each finger into a tentacle again. It leaves you reeling and gasping as he presses further into you, wrapping what would be his middle finger around your throat. He wraps it around twice, like he did with your waist. The appendage comes up to rest its tip on your bottom lip. 

   The sensation makes you dizzy, especially when it finally snakes into your panting mouth. It doesn't really taste like anything, it just feels wet and slick, the texture of the suction cups is the strangest thing about it. He rocks his hips so gently, squeezing you tighter everywhere he's holding you. 

   You don't feel like a moth drawn to a flame, you feel like a moth caught in a spider's web. All tangled up, not willing to fight to escape, not even wanting to. 

   "You're so damn tight." He stutters out, pressing his hips flush against your own. 

   You cry out and gag against the tentacle stuffing your mouth, digging your nails into the headboard as he chuckles behind you. 

   "You're such a pretty little mess for me. Your cunt's already dripping." 

   You don't doubt it, it has to be with how badly your core aches around him as he stretches you. 

   Your thighs start to tremble as you wait for him to move, sniffling as the tears fall from your eyes and the drool spills from your lips. 

   A pretty little mess indeed. 

   Slowly, he drags his hips back with a hiss before pushing back in. He takes his time with it, building an agonizing pace that offers you no release. There's only the pressure, only your clit screaming for attention, only the maddening tease of his head against your sweet spot with every torturous push in. 

   "Fuck angel, I gotta break this pussy in, don't I?" His words pull another pitiful moan from you, nodding and whining is all you're capable of. 

   His picks up speed just enough to make you tense even more, still painful, still mind numbing. 

   "You look so fucking pretty on the end of my cock." 

   His words pour over you like hot wax, heating you up, making you drip. The heat seeps deep into your skin, making you squirm and clench. 

   He speeds his thrusting up slightly, then more, and more, and more, until you’re shrieking and choking against the tentacle stuffing your mouth. Your hands fly up to claw at it, wanting to tell him how it feels, wanting to thank him for the way he’s fucking you. 

   It’s still painful, each thrust splits you open with a sting, but it’s so damn good. The sharp stretching is absolutely spectacular, and it sends your brain into somewhere dark and smokey, it leaves you with a wide open feeling in your chest. It leaves you wanting more. 

   “What’s the matter, sweet thing?” He taunts, “Tell me about it, then, how’s Daddy make you feel?” He turns each tentacle back into a finger slowly, pulling out of your mouth, leaving you a gasping mess. 

   Through spit and tears, you praise him, words spewing out between moans as your body jolts from each punishing snap of his hips. 

   “So fucking good! You make me feel so good!” You cry, clinging to his forearm as he brings you closer to his chest. 

   The tentacle around your waist starts to slither down your stomach, “This isn’t even half of what I’m capable of doing to you,” The tip of it gives the hood of your clit a teasing flick, “-and you’re already such a slut for me.” His chuckle is dark and full as the tip of his skilled tentacle zeros in on your sweet spot, rubbing and wriggling against it until you’re screaming. 

   “Say it. Say you’re my little slut.” His words are a harsh demand against your ear, leaving no room for disobedience. 

   “I- f-fuck- I can’t! I ca-an’t!” You sob, not able to catch your breath between thrusts. 

   Tamaki eats that right up, swelling with pride as he fucks you speechless, delirious with the fact that he finally has your cunt gripping his cock. 

   Before he can bark another order at you, you finally pull the words out of your closing throat, "I'm your slut," You gasp as drool rolls down your chin, "I'm your little slut." 

   He throws his head back and throws everything he has into every thrust, his moans are obscene, high pitched and broken as he feels how hard you squeeze him when he speeds up the tip of his tentacle against your clit. 

   "Give it to me, I feel that greedy cunt tryin' to milk me, give me that fuckin cum." He huffs against your ear. Your entire body seizes up, shaking violently as ribbons of pleasure shoot through you. You pulse around Tamaki almost violently, earning some very rough sounding moans from him as he works you through it. 

   Your orgasm lasts for what feels like an eternity, you shiver with every throb of your walls. It possesses that same almost painful pleasure, and it's everything you've ever wanted. At some point, the tentacle around your waist turns to a hand, still absentmindedly rubbing you as you come down. 

   He lets your torso fall forward, leaving you bent over and exposed for him. His hands smooth over your ass, and you realize he's still so fucking hard. 

   "Can you take more, angel?"

   You nod against the tear soaked pillow you've pressed your face into, not sure that you even can, but willing to try. 

   "Good," He bends down to press kisses into your spine as he pulls out, "'Cause you're going to." 

   He pulls out, almost full of regret, wanting to live the rest of his life buried inside you.

   Now he can have some fun, mind cleared slightly by finally feeling you come undone around him. He's still hazy, still slightly frenzied, but less ravenous, less of a starved man waiting for his meal, more of a well fed man waiting for desert. 

   His hands hold your waist gently so he can guide you onto your back. You oblige, more than willing to let him have his way. 

   You finally get a good look at him, and you're astounded by just how pretty his dick looks. All pale and pink, swollen and shiny, it makes you dizzy with admiration. 

   "You're terribly beautiful." He whispers, cradling your waist so he can worship your stomach with soft kisses, "I don't believe you're even real." 

   Sweetness oozes through your tingling limbs, pouring over you like warm honey. His tender mouth brings you back down, soothes you into a state of catharsis. Your body settles, but your heart picks back up when his lips are on your hips. 

   Your eyes meet his, and you share the sentiment that he just might not be real. He pears up at you through a mess of indigo hair, eyes full of what you can only describe as devotion. 

   He explores your body with his hands, dipping his thumbs into every crook he can, palming handfuls of your plush thighs. He seems to have a soft spot for your hips though, pulling at your love handles, letting his breath speed up each time until he's panting against you. 

   With every pull of his hands, you bend for him, push into him, work with him. You both find a rhythm, falling into an easy dance of grabbing and needing. 

   "I want to keep you." He breathes, placing a hand on either side of your waist so he can lift himself over you, "I want to have you." 

   He gathers your legs while he speaks, hooking his hands under your knees so he can fold you up. 

   "You have me." You whisper, reaching out to lay your fingers on the sides of his ribs. 

   You watch his skin twitch under your touch, you watch his eyebrows sag into an almost heartbroken look. 

   He looks down between your bodies, quivering when he sees his heavy cock resting against your stomach. He feels so incredibly proud of you in that moment, for taking him so well, and asking for more. 

   She's mine. She said I have her. 

   The concept brings another wave of primal desire crashing down on his self control. 

   His fingers dig into your skin, biting at the flesh, spreading you open for him as he puts his weight on your legs. 

   You clench in anticipation, teased by the pressure of his hot length resting against you. 

   "I can take it." You say quietly, sliding your hands up his lean body so you can lace them into his inky hair. 

   He melts into your touch, stunned by your gorgeous submission. 

   "Fuck, angel." His words are shattered as they fall from his lips. 

   You reach down between your bodies and wrap your hand around his weeping tip. He trembles and hiccups as you push him down so he's lined up with where you need him. 

   "Please, I want all of it." m. 

   “Careful.” He pants, looking down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

   It doesn’t create hesitation in you though, only curiosity. 

   “We’re being careful now?” You tease, sliding him up and down your slit. 

   “You little devil.” He hisses, grabbing your wrist harshly, “You think you’re cute, don’t you?” 

   You freeze and blink up at him, once again shocked by his quick change in temperament. 

   “You wanna act like a tease now?” He questions, bringing your hand up so he can press it into the mattress with his. 

   “Did you find yourself a cute little attitude?” His voice drips with venom, it bites at your insides and melts your skin. 

   “That’s ok, angel.” He lets your hand go so he can press on the backs of your thighs again, successfully folding you completely in half, “I’ll fuck it out of you.” 

   Before you can breathe, blink, or respond, he’s splitting you open with a brutal pace. He laughs deep in his chest when you cry out, he mocks you when your hands fly to his abs in an attempt to slow his assault. A wicked smile spreads across his pretty face when tears stain your flushed cheeks once again. 

   “Cryin’ again so soon? Is it too much, baby? You need Daddy to slow down?” He’s testing you, only thrusting harder as he taunts you for your sobbing and moaning. 

   “No!” You gasp between tears, “Don’t stop, please, fuck me like that.” 

   “That’s my girl.” 

   His thrusts are ruthless, sharp, unforgiving. He rocks your body and the bed with each plunge in, headboard crashing against the wall. Each drive into you is enchanting, it teaches you something new, opens new doors, shows you a new, brilliant world of depravity. The way the pleasure shoots all the way up your spine with every drag of his cock, it’s something you want to feel until you die, you’d even be happy if this is the way you die. 

   You watch him disappear inside of you over and over, pulling out just as quick, covered in slick and sin. Tamaki is in his own feral world, watching your lovely face crumble and pout as he fills you. His hands are angry against the back of your thighs, nails digging in hard enough to bring little pearls of scarlet to the surface. 

   When you start to whine from the sting, he flashes you a lazy smile before stuffing his fingers into your mouth. He presses the blood covered fingertips into your tongue just enough to make drool spill from the sides of your mouth. 

   “Hush, you’ll learn to love it.”

   His smile turns wolfish when he watches your eyes roll back. It’s all so black-hearted, it’s everything you’ve kept yourself from, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

   You both throb and cry then, your bodies smack as they meet, obscene and wet as you chase your undoing. Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer, and he curses himself for it. He doesn’t want to stop, especially when you wince so sweetly when his thrusts are a little too deep. He wants to watch you suck his fingers forever, crying against his palm as he turns you into his perfect little slut. 

   “You’re gonna give me one more, aren’t you, angel? You owe me that, I saved your life after all.” He slides his fingers from your mouth, dragging your spit down your chin before grabbing you by the throat, “Answer if you can, I know it must be hard to speak when you’re getting fucked this good.” 

   His words drown you in lust, your hands claw at his back, painting angry red lines down the pretty porcelain canvas, “Take it! Fuck- Take it, Suneater, take it all.” 

   It’s not a demand, it’s a plea, it’s a craving formed deep within your freshly corrupted heart. 

   Your begging pulls desperate, whiny sounds from him. With his eyes screwed shut he lets the hand on your thigh manifest the tentacles in place of his fingers. He throws all of his energy into that, trying to stall the twitching of his dick as your hot insides massage him with their relentless pulsing.   

   “Are you sure about that?” He tests, letting the tentacles snake around your thigh before slithering down to where your bodies meet. 

   Immediately, one starts flicking at your clit, making your back go rigid as he grins down at his good work. 

   You wail his name, nails biting at his skin even more but he pays no mind. He has a mission, he’s going to take all of it. 

   He focuses on making his tentacles grow, two long enough to reach up your body and tug at your nipples, and one other snaking down through the mess you’re making to prod at your asshole. Your eyes widen with shock as your body ignites, it’s too much, it’s all too much. Every sensation is heightened, every poke and flick and thrust sends shards of pleasure flying through you, piercing you from every direction. 

   You let yourself cry completely then, throwing your head against Tamaki’s collar bone before sobbing into his chest. You know you’re cumming, you can feel it somewhere amongst all the other stimulation, but it’s nearly drowned out, and Tamaki is still fucking you just as hard as he was when this all started. 

   “More, you have more for me, I fucking know it.” He huffs as he finally pushes into your ass with the tentacle. 

   The ones on your nipples latch on with their suction cups as he fills you more and more. 

   “Give it to me, angel, give it all to your hero.” 

   That’s the final push, the last thing you need to send you into the most frenzied orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Your vision goes white as your body convulses, ripped apart by the flames of euphoria that turn everything you’ve ever known to ash. Somewhere in the distance you hear Tamaki praising you, telling you how tight you feel, how beautiful you look, how good you are for him. 

   It’s lost in the fray, though, all blurring together as you shake violently around him. The only thing that brings you back slightly, is the break in his voice when he sobs, “I’m gonna stuff that little cunt with my cum, I’m gonna make you mine.”

   Your hand is at the back of his neck instantly, pulling him down for a messy, aimless kiss. His moans spill into your mouth as his hips falter, turning to slow, stuttering thrusts as he starts to pump his release deep into you. 

   “I’m yours - I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours.” You chant it against his lips as his tears fall to your cheeks, mixing with your own as you both shatter for each other.

   Coming back down isn't easy at all. It's slow and needy, your hands still pulling at whatever skin they can grab, hips rolling against each other, trying with everything you both have to prolong that rapturous feeling. 

   Frantically, painfully, he pulls himself out of you. He slides his hot mouth down your body, nipping and sucking as he descends to your messy cunt. He spreads your legs wide so he can bury his face between them. He teases your clit briefly, but moves quickly to press his open mouth against your hole.

   Your skin boils as you watch the nasty show. His eyes cross sinfully and flutter shut as he tongue at your well used pussy. When he pulls back, his chin is covered in some wretched mixture of your combined releases. He moves back up your body like an animal stalking its prey.

   He grabs your jaw and you open so willingly. His mouth is on yours instantly, pushing the warm liquid onto your tongue with his own. It’s a spunky, intense flavor, almost overwhelming as he spreads it around your mouth. It creates a dark, blurry feeling in your chest, though. It makes you feel alive, it makes you want more.

   He pulls back slowly, a thick string of saliva and sin connecting your lips as he pants down at you. 

   “You’re such a good little girl.” 

   His lips are everywhere, pressing against your cheekbones, your nose, your forehead. His hands return to normal so he can cradle your face. You both lay there, still joined, catching your breath. 

   "Angel?" 

   The tenderness in his voice pulls you back down to earth, and when you open your eyes, you find yourself lost in his. It’s a harsh but marvelous contrast with the sharp edges of his previous behavior.

   "Does anything h-hurt?" He asks timidly. 

   The stutter is back, the anxious look in his eyes, the restlessness in his hands. 

   You reach out to hold his face like he's holding yours, "Tamaki, no, nothing hurts. You made me feel so good." 

   You don't ever want to be a source of hesitation for him again. You want to make it better. He's brilliant, he's brave, he saved your damn life. He doesn't need to be so scared around you. 

   "You're my hero, Suneater." You pull him down for a soft, intimate kiss. 

   He breathes out against you, more of his tears wet your cheeks but you don't mind. 

   He's allowed to feel this, he earned this. 

   When the kiss breaks he searches your face, waiting for you to laugh at him, to push him off, to change your mind. 

   You don't, though. 

   You stay there with him, loving him and full of him. 

   "And you're mine." 

   You both settle there, kissing skin that hasn't been kissed before, finding ways to make each other fall even more. 

   Tamaki tells himself he did the right thing. You don't ever have to know why Dabi chose your house to break into. You don't ever need to be told that he spent endless nights watching you from the window, because he has you know. 

   It would be wrong of him to tell you, you wouldn't understand it. It would break your heart and ruin everything. Then, it would get messy. You might try to run away, and that would mean he'd have to keep you in different ways. 

   He shakes the thoughts from his head. He can keep you like this, laid out and blushing for him, so soft and beautiful. 

   You belong to him now, and that's all that there is. 

   "Can I take care of you?” He asks softly, playing with the necklace he gave you as he gives you a shy glance. 

   “You just did.” You let yourself laugh a little as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

   “No, not like that.” He smiles softly, dipping down to kiss your neck so softly you almost can’t feel it, “Like this.” 

   He presses his lips against a mark you didn’t know he made, lingering for a moment as his eyes flutter shut. 

   “These say that you’re mine.” His thumb traces over one of the circular bruises on your ribs, “They say you have someone protecting you.”

   The prospect makes your heart soar. He’s right, belonging to him means you’ll always be safe, you’ll always have somebody willing to fight for you, maybe even somebody willing to stay with you. 

   “This says that you belong to me.” He loops a finger around the delicate pearl on your necklace, pulling gently, not enough to make you go anywhere, but enough to make you feel the metal tug against the back of your neck. 

   ‘You do belong to me, don’t you.” He asks, a wild, fearful look in his eyes. 

   You do, you just told him so, you just cried to him and vowed that you were his just moments ago. 

   “I do, I belong to you, I swear.” You reassure him, pulling a deep sigh from his chest. 

   You don’t understand the way he aches for you, the way he’s addicted to you. He was already hooked, from just glances and flighty touches. Now, having felt your soft skin, the tuck of your waist, having seen you cry and heard you call his name, he’s willing to admit his obsession. 

   He does take care of you, he does it beautifully. He carries you to the bathroom where he sets you on the edge of the tub. He fills it with warm, soapy water before picking you up bridal style so he can settle into the water with you in his lap. 

   Neither of you bother to turn a light on, content with the glow of the moon shining through the skylight. Tamaki paints your shoulders with soft kisses as he rubs soothing circles into your back. He takes his sweet time, wiping away the sweat and the tears, mindful of the tender spots on the back of your thighs. 

   “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” He sighs, “An angel, nothing less.” 

   You melt into him, lost in his praise, blinded by his devotion as well as your own. 

   Tamaki is just as lost, if not more, only becoming more possessive with every gentle touch, with every whispered adoration. 

   This is how it’s meant to be, and you don’t ever need to know how it all fell into place. He did the right thing, after all. This isn’t a problem, he’s in love. He’s in love and now he has you. 

   He intends on keeping it that way.

[pocketramblr]

Idk if you've talked about this before, but how closely tied do you think the stockpiling nature of OfA is to the "passing down" nature of it? I was thinking about how Midoriya has access to the quirks of the previous holders, and I was wondering how much of that is due to the stockpiling quirk vs First's quirk. Like, if AFO had given and taken the stockpiling quirk multiple times to people with different quirks, would it have "collected" those quirks too, since it's a stockpiler? Or was it purely First's quirk that allowed the other holders' quirks to be passed on as well? Because if it's the latter, then what exactly is the original quirk stockpiling? Before realizing Midoriya could access the previous holders' quirks, All Might said OFA gets stronger each time it's passed on. Would that mean it only accumulates the holders' physical abilities unrelated to their quirks? But that can't be right because OFA has supposedly made all the quirks it contains stronger. So if it's the former, then since AfO held the stockpiling quirk at one point, did it also "collect" a copy of AFO and Midoriya will be able to access it eventually?

i did once answer an ask with a mathematical breakdown of OfA multiplying x amount of average human strength as an example to show the difference between periodic compound interest and continuous compound interest. um, because i teach economics and i always thought that making it entertaining was the best way to get it to stick. that one had showed that izuku should have a truly ridiculous amount of strength, though i dont remember the exact numbers rn. you can try to find it on this blog... good luck.

anyway, thats not really the question you're asking, so lets get into ofa and try to science a quirk that probably is just magic.

I have answered the question below the cut in three parts, plus a lightning round to try and make sure i answered all the parts of your question.

1- stockpiling quirk vs First's quirk: For this, i am going to say that i quite like the theory that First was actually quirkless, and the stockpile quirk just took a little bit of AfOQuirk with it and thats why it could be passed on afterwards. In this situation, i think what OfA does is that the Stockpile Quirk makes a copy of everything in it's holder- their memories, their dna, their energy and vitality. It does not boost any of those until it's passed on- the Stockpile was very small and could only copy AfO's genes that had the AfOQuirk, but at tenth generation would probably copy more than that if passed to someone with AfO and with a hoard of other quirks. On being passed, it then adds to the new holders strength, while working to copy their base traits. So, First got a little stronger with a boost from AfO, and his quirk though he didn't know it, while OfA ran him through a copy machine to make a vestige to paste into the next body. Second has the strength and dna of first and afo, plus some ghosts, and could use his own while it was being copied. And so on. But that's just the "First was actually quirkless theory", so lets work on the assumption that First did have a pass-along quirk

2- First's original quirk. Which doesn't even get a name, thanks guys. We know it should have something to do with passing on quirks, and on relying on consent of the giver and dna transfer, which makes it different than AfOQuirk. AfO can steal and give, but doesn't require dna. There are even some panels in the manga that imply AfO doesn't even need physical touch to take a quirk, as it appears he steals many quirks at once by jumping over a crowd of people. unfortunately, Bones decided to just cut that scene out of season five for some reason, so it's still a mystery and maybe he's using some other method. thanks, bones. hope those last two movies you had to shove painfully into quasi-canon were worth it. Anyway, different activation methods. Now, given that ofa requires on consent of the given, it does make me wonder: if someone knew about ofa, and wanted to give an ofa holder their quirk, and provided dna for it, would it stick? Can ofa both take and give, but only based on willingness? Seems like a possibility that would have never been tested. BUT i am getting super off topic bc i am writing this answer late at night, sorry. Right, so how much of this is First's quirk? Given that it's described as the ability to "Pass on his quirk(s)", i think all of the quirk-stockpiling, including the vestiges, are from First's quirk. On his own, his quirk would collect dna, which includes quirks, and quirks are just straight up haunted. On his own, without the stockpile, he could have passed on his quirk to second, and started the line like normally, but the holders would not have gotten any boost of strength, just possibly the ability to use previous quirks. Maybe only access them if they were originally quirkless? maybe not, without the 'stress' of the stockpiled they'd all be fine with multiple quirks? Who knows. Point is, thats what i think the options are. Either 1, the quirk-vestige stuff comes from afo, first was actually quirkless, and the strength is stockpile, or 2- the quirk-vestige stuff comes from first, and the strength is stockpile.

3- So what is the stockpile doing? Ok so the stockpile is like soup. bear with me. the longer you keep your ingredients in to flavor a broth or stock, the stronger the flavor will be, right? A chicken bone and some carrots in some stock for ten minutes wont' be as flavorful as a chicken bone and some carrots that have been cooking in a stock for an hour. Basically, the stock liquid is the stockpile, and the ingredients are the user's quirks. because of this, i think that it makes sense that Second's Quirk, whatever it is, has received a larger boost from OfA than, say, Black Whip has. It's been in the soup longer. That doesn't mean it's necessarily going to be stronger than black whip when izuku accesses it, because BW probably got to start off stronger, but it will have gotten more of a boost. You can also think of it as a loan- OfA took a quirk loan out from Second way before it took a quirk loan out from Banjo, so Second will have accrued more interest than Banjo, but the total sums also depend on how much was there to start with. Man i hope these metaphors make sense. BUT, but, but, but. The stockpile only has access to these quirks to boost them because of First's original quirk (or the copy of afoquirk it took) On its own, it would have just stockpiled up strength and energy- i think of it more like interest on a checking account with a bank (you get a boost just by having money in there, and it slowly grows over time.) than like a feruchy metalmind (where you would store 'strength' to use later, at the cost of being physically weaker now). While the metalmind concept does technically fit the definition of 'stockpile' to me, i don't think thats how it worked bc it doesn't sound like what AfO meant when he talked about giving it to First. and i mean, AfO has been wrong about quirks before, but still. Interest from a bank is probably how it works. On its own, the only thing the stockpile has in its bank account is physical strength. the AfOquirk copy or First's original quirk let it open up its bank account to more, including the quirks.

lightning round-

Before realizing Midoriya could access the previous holders' quirks, All Might said OFA gets stronger each time it's passed on.

Yes but AM doesn't know a lot of things about OfA. I do think it gets stronger as its passed on, either though Option One of the past user's being pasted onto the next one when it's passed, or through Option Two of it getting stronger as its used, and more passes means more holders means more use.

Would that mean it only accumulates the holders' physical abilities unrelated to their quirks? But that can't be right because OFA has supposedly made all the quirks it contains stronger.

While OFA does make the quirks stronger, i'm not sure if it did much in a user's lifespan or only after it was passed on- Banjo talks about Black Whip being much stronger for Izuku than it was in his time, but i don't remember him mentioning anything about it being enhanced significantly during his time holding ofa.

So if it's the former, then since AfO held the stockpiling quirk at one point, did it also "collect" a copy of AFO and Midoriya will be able to access it eventually?

IMO, possible- but only in Option One where First was originally quirkless. there, he'd have both a vestige and an afoquirk to deal with. In Option Two, he would have neither- except whenever tomura stops by his headspace with an afoquirk and vestige sticking out of his shoulder.

[nixonio]

Bakugou Apologized and I Have Some Constructive Criticism

So, I read the fan translation for Bakugou's apology, and I figured I'd analyze it to the best of my ability. Well, not analyze, more like give my opinion on it.

I want to start off by saying that I'm not an anti. I'm I'm a stan either. I'm tagging this as both, though because I want to hear every side, and think about everyone's opinions so that I can make sure mine is the best it can be.

Also yes, I know it's fan translated and that the official will probably be different, but I wanted to have fun and do it anyway🥰

Please note that this is my opinion. You are more than welcome(in fact encouraged) to tell about your own opinion in the replies, but please be respectful.

Everything I write here is to be read in the most respectful and kind tone. It's how I was meaning for it to be read. I'm sorry if it doesn't come off that way, but please know I am in no way trying to be rude with anything I say.

Now then, let's get started.

First of all, he starts out with a bit of an insult "you were always far behind me" thats not true, but it's Bakugou's opinion. I'm not sure I like how he states it as fact. "You were always so far behind me." Rather than "I used to think you were always so far behind me." or "I thought you were so far behind me."

Bakugou does, however, imply that him looking down on Izuku because of him being quirkless is wrong, and I think that's awesome.

After this, he starts giving a reason(a pretty illogical one, in my opinion) as to why he bullied Deku. Bakugou felt that Izuku was somehow miles ahead of him. Next he goes into what he felt, why he felt the need to hurt Izuku. It's because of something he was feeling. And of course, how could you talk about that with someone? Especially being immature and at that age(around five or so). He didn't have to talk about it, but hurting someone is never the option(we knew this already).

Next he talks about how he was distant. And OK, that's good. He should have been distant.

Except he wasnt distant.

I can admit that on normal circumstances Bakugou didn't go out of his way to speak to Midoriya, but when Deku would speak to/compliment him, insults were thrown. Bakugou should have been distant then. Also, "I grew up distant and always tried to beat you down" are contradictions to eachother, imo. Bakugou, back in middle school, went out of his way to bully deku. That's not distant. Now back when they were small, yes. I'd say Bakugou was kind of distant. He still made fun of Izuku though, so he probably wasn't as distant as he thinks he was.

Next he talks about he could never truly be superior to Deku, how he always lost. But this is(in my opinion), unnecessary. He's giving all these reasons as to how things didn't work out for him, and that last part being placed well....last kinda makes it seem like because everything didn't work out right, he's sorry. I know this isn't how its meant, but I feel it could have been worded differently. I can't help but wonder, though, if Izuku had submitted, if Bakugou had been superior in his own eyes, if he'd succeeded, would he still be sorry?

In alot of cases, though, Bakugou succeeded in beating Midoriya down(temporarily). Physically anyway(the final exam, and when he impaled Izuku with his headpiece).

(Note: A differing opinion has lead me to think differently about this. Bakugou had become distant in an emotional sense, he and Deku weren't as close as they were before. No longer besties, if you understand me.)

At least, after this, Bakugou explains that he realizes nothing he said really matters. I like that he can understand this, and I appreciate that he feels Izuku is owed an explanation at least. The one thing I hate about this is that his reasoning for doing what he did is longer than his apology. His apology is one line.

It's just one. If someone told me that they put me through hell because of an idea they'd placed in their own head that was so incredibly far from the truth(like Bakugou saying that he thought Izuku was looking down on him during their first battle at Ground Beta), I wouldn't feel any better. As a matter of fact, I'd feel worse about it. There is literally nothing Izuku could have done to prevent the bullying. Even if he wasn't quirkless, Bakugou back then, might not have been able to fathom the idea of someone being even a little better than him. So he probably still would have bullied Deku. Only this time Izuku might have been able to fight back depending on the quirk he would have been born with.

If someone murdered my mother, and stood in court explaining why, far more than being sorry, I wouldn't be any happier. Yes, the reason matters, but the amount of time you spend explaining the reason should be virtually nonexistent compared to the time you spend showing remorse and sorrow.

I very much enjoy how he understands that Izuku wanting to leave UA and go it alone wasn't necessarily wrong. I think Bakugou is correct here. Nice Bakugou, very cool.

I'm also very happy that Izuku apologizes for saying that everyone couldn't keep up. Very cool, Izuku.

Please don't get me wrong, though. I'm proud of Bakugou for even bringing this up regardless of how he did it. I think that Bakugou apologizing is a huge step in the proper direction. I cant help but be concerned over how he'll be different in the future though.

Well, why would I be worried about this? Because he's shown promise before, but soon after goes back to being pretty rude. Bakugou explained to that child that looking down on others would prevent him from realizing his own weakness "If you keep looking down on everyone, then you won't notice your own weakness."(My Hero Academia Episode 80(sub): Relief For License Trainees -16:00). Yet, he continued to look down on others in a sense, even as recently as the Endeavor Training Arc. Bakugou's arrogance continues, even when he realizes that looking down on others is wrong. He claims that Todoroki could never notice something he didn't already notice(My Hero Academia Episode 103(sub): One Thing at a Time -7:18). And when he claims that Endeavor, the Number 1 Hero, is ripping off of his style "He's copying my Explosion" (My Hero Academia Episode 103(sub): One Thing at a Time -6:50).

Truly, I hope Bakugou's arrogance and negative confidence will subside, and we'll be able to witness him being blatantly and openly kind to others. I'm not asking Bakugou to change his character, he could become an Inosuke(Demon Slayer) of sorts. He could even become a more obvious Tsundere, with the narrative showing his thoughts and agreeing with him actually caring in a more obvious fashion.

But, that's just what I think

Once again, feel free to comment your opinion on my criticisms of Bakugou's apology, or even tell me what you think about it! I love hearing differing opinions.

[foryoumyheroes]

I love the Otaku todoroki and Bakugou hc's! Maybe part 2 where they meet the characters voice actor and they look EXACTLY like the character and the bois are like 😳😳😳 HAVE I BEGGED GOD ENOUGH FOR HIM TO TURN MY ANIME CRUSH REAL and maybe the voice actor asks them out on a date sksksk— lol love your writing! (you don't have to do this btw, just a suggestion! 💕)

My first thought was the webtoon True Beauty 😳😳 I don't know if you guys know it, but it’s a great story (and free to read online!) and the author is kinda infamous for looking exactly like her MC!! Though Iida’s VA, Kaito Ishikawa, 👀 👀 looks exactly like his character IMO!! 

A/N:

The headcanons in question are here, and since the character is already referred to as [Name], I’ll be referring to the voice actor as [V/A] only, but it’s still the reader 😊😊.

“Shitty Half-and-half.” 

“Bakugou,” Todoroki replied, turning fully to face his former classmate. Several years had passed since they both confronted each other over Todoroki’s [Name] acrylic charm, and even now, both Pro-Heroes deep into their careers, their love for the anime character never waned. 

The series had finished up during their last year at U.A., leaving both boys a mess while Aizawa could only wish that he was able to nurse his headache with half a bottle of ibuprofen. Todoroki mourned the fact that they were able to defeat the last arc’s antagonist at the cost of [Name]’s powers leading to their ultimate retirement and Bakugou raged from the ambiguous epilogue where [Name] was seen laying their head on the protagonist’s shoulder while looking out into the sunset.  

“Don’t play dumb with me, you damned trust fund kid,” Bakugou spat, pushing himself off the spot where he leaned against the wall and striding over to the taller male. He had filled out in the past several years, nothing but toned biceps and broad shoulders. “You’re thinking exactly what I’m thinking.” 

“What?” Todoroki asked innocently. His time with Uraraka had paid off, but the cutesy look would only let him get so far. Bakugou was eye-to-eye with his “eternal” rival. Todoroki had only gotten taller recently. Still slender and toned, he was nearly his father’s height and had already surpassed Natsuo. 

“Might Con.” Bakugou really had grown from the way he didn’t rage from Todoroki’s feigned ignorance. “You’re going to be there aren’t you?” 

Todoroki froze. 

The blond smirked at his expression. “I know for a damned fact that your manager scheduled your panel at the exact same time my panel is held —” 

“We’re hosting the panel together with Midoriya, Bakugou —” Todoroki tried to say.   

“At the exact same time as [Name]’s fucking seiyuu’s autograph session, huh?” 

At Bakugou’s words, both boys were at a standstill. 

Due to the popularity of the anime, the voice actors were going to have their schedules jam-packed the entire con with panels, interviews, and meet-and-greets, but due to scheduling conflicts, every voice actor was allowed only one autograph session at a time. Bakugou didn’t care about any of those other shitty extras. He only wanted to meet [Name]’s seiyuu. 

The voice actor was infamous for hiding their face during the anime’s run, only doing radio shows or paper interviews. They cited that since they were still a minor by the time the anime came out, they wanted to preserve their privacy, but now that they were of age, they were going to reveal their face at the con for the first time. 

But they couldn’t make it. Their entire Pro-Hero career was stabbing itself in the back. 

He held a hand out. 

“If one of us can’t see [Name]’s voice actor the other can’t.”

It was otaku solidarity.  

After a pause Todoroki reached out and shook it once. “Fine.” The two boys dropped their hands as fast as it came. 

Yeah. 

Not. 

Todoroki Shoto: 

Tries to go incognito, but he sucks at it. 

He’s wearing shades indoors to hide his heterochromia and his scar, a bucket hat to hide his half-and-half hair, and he’s wearing regular, but not so inconspicuous clothes. 

Once he gets to the front of the line, he nearly drops his gigantic load of [Name] merch. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a Pro, he would’ve needed a wagon to carry the entire thing. 

His face immediately flushes. 

You’re wearing glasses and a large sweater while smiling and waving happily at the last fan that walked away. His mind is seeing every equation. You look exactly like the High School spin-off your mangaka made after the protagonist wished that everyone was able to live normal lives.   

He stutters out, “C-Cosplay...?” softly the moment he gets to your table. 

This dude is blushing so hard his face is as red as his hair. 

Were you a secret love child, perhaps? 

You brighten up and laugh. “Oh, wow — you have a lot of merch,” you laugh and he nearly swoons. “And oh, no! I just look like this normally.” 

He mentally thanks his mom for giving birth to him. 

You compliment him on his casual Idol!Shoto cosplay and he’s so embarrassed that he nearly lets go of the left side of his Quirk. 

“Yeah! You make such a handsome Shoto!” You use your [Name] voice to say, “I love you, Shoto-kun!” and he nearly dies right there. 

He uncharacteristically even puts his face into his hands ;; and just screams internally. 

You hold up your pen and look at him with such wide eyes and ;;; YOU’RE SO FUCKING CUTE!! 

None of the fanfictions have ever prepared him for this. 

[“So who should I put these out to?” 

He inhales once and quickly goes, “Todoroki, please. Written with the character for ‘a roaring fire.’ I have admired [Name] since their character introduction arc and felt a bond from [Name]’s tragic history and my own. I hated my father for the longest time and wanted to forage my own path similar to [Name] and they gave me strength —”] 

You fight to keep the largest grin off your face, but then the door busts open and in walks Ground Zero. The security are all scrambling to stop him, but he barrels through them like dominoes. 

[”HALF-AND-HALF!!” 

“Oh, Bakugou —” 

“I FUCKING KNEW THAT YOU WOULD BE HERE WHEN YOU DIDN’T SHOW UP TO YOUR OWN DAMNED PANEL!!” 

Bakugou takes him by the collar and his shades and hat falls and everyone’s immediately fangirl shrieking as Bakugou forcefully drags him away. 

“Wait, Bakugou — ! My dakimakura — !“ 

“Fuck that!”] 

After his panel, he’s smugly going through all of the merch you were able to autograph with Bakugou sulking in the corner because he managed to go and Bakugou didn’t and he nearly drops his figurine when he realizes what you wrote in the corner of the box. 

“You seem pretty cute, handsome stranger! ;) XXX-XXXX-XXXX” 

He discharges his Quirk and Bakugou could be heard shouting, “WHAT THE HELL, HALF-AND-HALF!” in the background. 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

He doesn’t even bother hiding the fact that he’s there. Everyone’s so stunned by the fact that the Ground Zero is just storming through the autograph session that the autograph line splits like the Red Sea and he goes right up to you. 

When he sees your face he just stops in his place and he does the face above for like five whole seconds. 

Did he die and go to heaven? 

WAS THAT NOT T H E [SURNAME] [NAME] SITTING IN FRONT OF HIM???

AND YOU LOOK SO SOFT!! Who gave you the motherfucking right to look so cute??? You look exactly like the panel in volume twenty-one, page 105 where [Name] were first seen wearing glasses. (Yes, ofc he remembers the exact page and volume. What was he, a fake fan?)

He didn’t have a thing for megane 😳😳😳 until [Name].

[“You...You fucking look exactly like [Name],” he manages to stutter out. 

You blink out of your stupor at the Ground Zero at your autograph session because your manager just elbows you at your side and you nod quickly like an idiot. 

“Y-Yeah!” You laugh nervously. “Hahaha, I guess that’s why they chose me to be the voice actor, you know because the voice matches the face — or-or is it the face matches the voice??” The two of you have matching red faces. “I-I even have a Quirk like their’s!” You hold up your hand and activate your Quirk slightly and he goes still.] 

H-His wifu/husbando... in the flesh... 

All those years of reading metas and watching analysis videos and calculating the compatibility of your Quirks are coming into fuCKING FRUITION!! 

And he just grabs your hand out of nowhere, running on pure instinct, wrapping his hand around yours in a vice grip like a claw game and the both of you freeze. 

”S-So what would you like me to sign??” you say quickly because he’s holding up the line, but everyone else is watching his go down like a soap opera. 

He asks you to sign the manga. The first volume, the volume where you’re introduced, and the last volume. 

[“They fucking did [Name] dirty in the series finale,” he says while you sign the manga for him. “They don’t belong with the pissy protagonist.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, looking up at him. You gesture for him to lean closer and he does while you whisper in his ear. “Between you and me I don’t ship them either.” You lean back in your chair. “I don’t think the mangaka developed their relationship enough for me to root for them. Personally, I think that that they should just settle down with someone who’s going to make them happy and protect them — “ 

“I can do that.” 

“What,” you blurt out. 

“What,” he replies.] 

He’s in such a daze that when Deku and Shoto barge into the autograph signing and drag him away he doesn’t even fight back. 

HE WANTED SENPAI TO NOTICE HIM BUT NOT LIKE THIS!! 

Even through his panel that he nearly missed btw he’s so confused. Equations are spinning around his head. 

When he finally has free time and looks at the manga you signed, it read, “Ground Zero, you’re my favorite Hero! Glad you liked the anime! Wanna talk about it some more? XXX-XXXX-XXXX” 

[hamliet]

I think your blog is one of the best out there. Maybe becuase of this , maybe because of your awesome takes... I find it hard being in the fandom. And I wanted to share this very unpopular opinion. The more it goes on the more I wonder : how did Enji turned into this? Most of all in fandom tends to justify touya because he’s the result of Enji’s abuse. However Enji isn’t a natural born abuser. I’ve read and saw plenty: he has not manias of control. He accept easily his wife to leave him (he wanted to build an house for her and since Shoto’s accident he hadn’t forced himself on her). He wanted an heir, true and he was more neglecting (which is a form of abuse). But many time were found evidences in studies neglecting parents have issues of their own. Which can be found in their original family and / or society (if no mental illnesses are implied).

This made me wonder. I love Japanese culture , novels and society. And one of the most recurrent theme , especially some decades ago, is the high pressure people are exposed. It was and sometimes still is a nichilist model in which you die or fly and sometime you can’t hope to Rise once again when you fail. For example the concept of “you need to go at a go prek to get in a good university and find a good job” is often depict and put to extreme in many media. This inspire even books in which families are up for anything to push their children and they are under great pressure. Since Enji seems a not so bad man per se, has no mental illnesses , the only thing left is his immense obsession that must come from something. And the fact that in society a man must be successful... I think here it is.

The fact he can’t express his feeling correctly for the most of MHA , neither he can’t read them at the point of being perceived “with no compassion at all” comply the stereotype of the father with way too high standard , this can’t come from nothing. It’s not hard unreasonable thinking he was most likely pressured as much when younger , and that broke him at some point (which is a recursive theme in many others novels). This doesn’t justify him, but it might explain why he ended up like this.

But while everyone seems to be able to... forgive dabi , justifying his doings becuase of how he was raised while condamning 100% Enji. However the lingering theme of my hero’s villains is that they aren’t a monster , they’re turned into one; and society played a huge role. I don’t stand for Enji’s actions (who would) but ultimately? If all villains were broken by society at some point (being AFO the only exception for now) why can’t be him too? Broken by a society that demands from heroes to be perfect , to never be weak, even through total desperation? Society even made a joke of all might who gave his life entirely and part of his organs for Japan. Rather than only condemning Enji for his doings , much like is doing with Dabi, the spotlight should be society again.

He did wrong. Terribly wrong. and now everyone is ready to crucify him. But how society taught him better ? How society perceive heroes as humans , how far they can be weak and fails and not be blamed? Like father , like son. Touya is the result of his family , I think it should be considerated Enji was the product of a corrupted society. Which never correct itself , never tries to change... they just discard heroes and villains alike just for not being “perfect”.

Hi! Aw, thank you for your kind words <3

So, I’ll break this down a bit, because I think this discussion needs a lot of nuance. I agree society affected Enji, but I don’t quite think that a victim of society is remotely comparable to being a victim of parental abuse.

To start with, I fundamentally disagree with the notion that abusers are born, and hence don’t buy that Enji is somehow different (or better) because he wasn’t born that way.

To note, I talking specifically about physical/emotional/spiritual domestic abuse, not about sexual abuse (and I don’t wanna talk about that because it’s not relevant here, so no one send me asks about it, thanks).

Abuse is a description of an action and its affects. I’ll quote @linkspooky’s meta on Hawks last week: abuser is not a bad word, it’s not just something that bad people do. It’s an unhealthy relationship dynamic that even good people, even sympathetic people can participate in. It’d be great if we could just do a genetic test and determine if someone is an abuser (actually it wouldn’t be great; it’d be dystopian and terrifying), but that’s not how people work.

However, “abuser” is seen as a bad word, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (nuance/abuse is horrific and takes such a toll on people that I’m glad it is given serious weight in some respects, although imo it’s overemphasized in fandom places and underemphasized in real life) and I’m not getting into good/bad/pluses/minuses of linguistic connotations here.

Hence, I would actually categorize what Rei did to Shouto as abuse, and I do think the story indicates she was neglectful towards her other children. However, I have never labeled her an “abuser” because of the negative connotation as is clear she is not a repeat offender and Shouto doesn’t even blame her--he blames Enji, and I don’t think that’s an incorrect assessment either. It’s complicated. Abuse victims can be abusers at the same time as they are victims (ask many a kid of an abusive dad what their mom was like; at best if they didn’t intervene it’s usually neglectful and often people go no contact with both parents). People we love and care for can participate in abuse.

Mental illness is also complex in its relationship to abuse. Mentally ill people are far more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators, and  mental illness doesn’t make someone predisposed to being a bad person. Mental illness does affect how I see Rei’s actions, because she was clearly out of her mind at the moment she burned Shouto’s face; at the same time, mental illness doesn’t erase harm done even if the person can’t be held super culpable. Enji on the other hand was not mentally ill in the same way; he was able to think logically and separate right from wrong even within society (because society clearly still views beating your kids as bad).

It’s actually not really accurate to say that Endeavor didn’t try to control Rei and just let her go--he put her in the institution to keep her away from Shouto, which may have been motivated of course by trying to protect Shouto, but was more likely “trying to protect his masterpiece.” Rei instantly regretted what she had done; Enji didn’t show regret until after Kamino. Also, Shouto himself views it as taking their mother away, not as protecting him. In fact, he sees it as removing his protector and leaving him with just the abusive dad. Plus, Rei’s doctors probably wouldn’t have let him see her. So I absolutely do think Enji is a control freak.

For Enjii, there’s no indication of prior trauma besides just not getting what he wanted. But, as you say, I do think Enji was absolutely a product of society--culturally, though I’m not qualified to comment on that, and within the manga’s own framing of that culture. However, while Enji is a product of society, he is not framed with the child framing that is present around Touya; hence, why he’s not a victim in the same sense. He was an adult when he started doing bad things, capable of reason, as far as we know and there’s no indication this isn’t the case. He was ~20 when Dabi was born, so that means he was looking for a quirk marriage at the very latest by 19. That’s like starting your career as an administrative assistant and being pissed you’re not CEO like, a year after starting! That implies that he had a sense of entitlement at a very young age, entitled to the point of believing kids were not full people but instead extensions of himself to ignore, beat up, and cast aside as he pleased. Every aspect of Enji’s personality screams of toxic masculinity as well.

Also, almost every person who has ever done something wrong (and those who haven’t!) is a product of their environment as well as of their genetics, but I wouldn’t classify everyone as a victim--even though technically I suppose they would be, but the connotations are just not particularly fitting--and I wouldn’t call Enji one. Enji might be a product of society, but his kids are victims of a deliberate choice he had to be a terrible parent. Society sucks, but we don’t choose it and it doesn’t choose us in the same sense a parent chooses to treat their kids a particular way.  So, rather than saying Enji’s a victim of society, I think it’s more of society reaping what they’ve sown in terms of their #1 being revealed as a mass abuser; it’s karmic.

So to return to his character and Enji is also a representation of toxic masculinity--that is why for me personally, his crying this chapter  actually resonated. Like, I think it was well-framed in that his victims didn’t feel sorry for him and he cried before he knew they were coming, and while I get that people think he has no right to cry (as Rei and Natsuo said!). I see why people interpret that as manipulative, and while I absolutely think it was self-pitying, I also personally see it as human and realistic, and perhaps as a slight chipping away of the toxic masculinity that he embodies. We’ll see. I’m still no fan but that was the first moment in his redemption arc that struck me as sincere.

[makeste]

Part 1. Hi, what do you think of Tomura's new conviction. You said that his conclusion is not logical, which I disagree and agree as a reader, and I think that I agree based on his pov. As a reader I see that there are legitimately good heroes, perhaps the majority of them. But they are still complicit in having child soldiers involved in a war, as well as that their solution to dealing with the nomu is to kill them, even though they at this point k now that they are victims of the Dr.

(fyi, this is in response to my liveblog of chapter 281 here. the short version is that I was not wholly sold on Tomura’s argument that heroes should all be eliminated just because they’re incapable of saving everyone.)

I do agree with you that Tomura’s logic makes sense from his own perspective, which is one of the things that makes him such a great villain. however, I can’t ignore that his perspective is completely warped and distorted. this isn’t his fault -- AFO groomed him, as you said, and he basically never had a chance -- but that doesn’t make it any less true. his logic makes sense from his point of view, but it falls apart completely when viewed from any objective angle. I think it’s possible to feel empathy and sympathy toward him without losing sight of that fact. so if you see me making remarks to that effect -- tearing into the holes in his logic -- that’s the perspective I’m coming from. I absolutely don’t blame him for feeling the way he does after everything he’s been through, but I’m still going to call a spade a spade. I do it with all the characters, including the ones I love the most. and honestly, if he ever stands any kind of chance at redemption -- and I really hope he does, even though I know that objectively speaking it’s a long shot -- he will eventually need to own up to his shit. having a tragic past can certainly win you sympathy, but it’s not a get out of jail free card to do whatever the fuck you want and expect everyone to just go along with it.

as for the heroes, who have admittedly made some questionable decisions here and there, here’s the thing. this is not a situation where it’s possible for everyone to win and everyone to be happy and for no one to get hurt. there’s no clean solution to this. there is no “good” action to take (and keep in mind, by “action” I also mean inaction, as in simply doing nothing, which is a meaningful and impactful choice in its own right) that will result in absolutely no harm. so what the heroes are striving to do instead -- and this includes even the HPSC, much as I hate them -- is to take the course of action which results in the least amount of harm, particularly to innocent people.

every choice the heroes have made is guided by this principle. Hawks attacks Twice because if he does not, Twice will ensure that the League and the PLF’s operation is successful. Mirko attacks the High Ends with the intent to kill because the High Ends were already awake and activated -- which was not part of the plan, and is entirely Ujiko’s fault -- and were trying to kill her, and could not be stopped via non-lethal means because of their regenerative quirks. do the least harm. if she hadn’t fought to kill, she wouldn’t have been able to get to Ujiko in time to stop him from powering up Tomura to 100%. Tomura would then have been unstoppable -- even at 75% he’s practically unstoppable anyway -- and would have killed countless people (which he already has done; we don’t know how many were killed by his initial attack, but it’s safe to say that many people, both heroes and civilians alike, did not make it out. on top of that, one of his first actions upon waking up was to set Gigantomachia and more Noumu loose, with explicit instructions to kill anyone in the way -- again, heroes and civilians alike. innocent people who haven’t done anything by anyone’s standards, including Tomura’s own dubious ones). do the least harm. if there is no action you can take which will result in no harm at all -- and there isn’t, because inaction results in the villains carrying out their plan unopposed, which means death on a mass scale and oppression of anyone deemed lesser, such as quirkless people, people with “weak” quirks, etc.  -- then take the action which will result in the least amount of harm to the fewest innocents.

as far as I can see, just about all of the heroes’ decisions have been in line with this creed, even the more unsavory ones. I’m not personally happy about the decision to allow the kids to join in the fight by any means. but it’s also undeniable that had they not been there, we would be looking at a very different aftermath of this. they’ve already made a huge difference. if and when Machia is stopped (which I’m still betting he will be, although the sedative seems to be taking longer than anticipated to kick in), it will be entirely due to class 1-A and 1-B’s efforts. the fact that Aizawa is still alive and breathing and still has his quirk is because Deku and Kacchan and Shouto were there to protect him when it counted most. had they not been there, there’s no doubt that Tomura -- who, it should be mentioned, wants to kill all of the heroes anyway, including all of these children, who would have been next up on his “to murder” list if the villains’ plans had succeeded -- would have won in no uncertain terms and we’d be witnessing the birth of an apocalypse right about now.

so all in all, from what I can see the heroes have basically done the best they could under exceptionally bad circumstances. the child soldiers thing aside (which still bugs me even though it’s been proven to have been 100% the correct call), I can’t really say I disagree with any of the choices they’ve made. their own logic, unlike Tomura’s, is sound. Tomura and the rest of the League have got it into their heads that the current world is broken beyond repair and that it’s better to just wipe it out and start anew. they don’t have any kind of plan for a new and better system to replace it (even though the PLF acts like their post-apocalyptic anarchic survival-of-the-fittest society will be some sort of utopia), and they have no regard for any innocents who get caught up in the crossfire. not only that, but their definition of people who are not innocent is highly skewed (Dabi attempting to kill Tokoyami, a teenager who was not threatening him in any way and was simply trying to save his dying mentor, comes to mind). it’s a very conveniently flexible logic that bends and twists to suit their own needs, because the truth is there isn’t anything really logical about it at all. they’re not actually going to make the world any kind of a better place with anything that they’re doing. but the thing is, they don’t actually care about the world. they only care about their own little part of it, about their own friends and their own personal vengeance trips, and satisfying their own desires. they are not trying to do the least amount of harm. they’re harming indiscriminately, and selfishly. and any time you’ve got someone who is doing that, there’s really no possible way to defend it, imo.

so yeah. this is why no matter how many monologues Tomura or Dabi or Re-Destro or the rest launch into about how heroes are corrupt and the villains’ cause is somehow just, it’s always going to ring hollow to me in the end. and again, this doesn’t mean that I’m indifferent to their own personal suffering or what they’ve been through or anything like that. my own personal desired endgame for BnHA involves a redemption arc for Tomura that a lot of people would probably consider unrealistic tbqh. I like these guys a lot! but they’re in the wrong here, plain and simple, and the heroes are justified in trying to stop them from destroying the fucking world, even if it means they might have to go for the kill. we’re past the point of imagining that there’s any other kind of way to resolve this that involves talking things out, or somehow taking down this nigh-invincible unstoppable regenerating superman without killing him. at this point that is probably the last fucking thing on any of their minds, and rightfully so. it’s just a tough situation all around, and it’s not going to end well or end clean no matter what happens, and that’s just how it is. all any of these characters can do is try their best to make decisions that they can live with.

[quidfree]

hi so i really love the way you characterize katsuki and shouto , and especially love the way you write them with izuku, and was wondering if you had any tips to try and keep them ic. there’s just smth so solid and unwavering in your approach and as a fic baby writer i’m hoping for some insight. thanks a lot and i love your work!

oh what a delightful ask

first of all thank you! ‘solid and unwavering’ is a charming descriptor so i think you’re on your way re: fledgling fic career

second of all, i may have to create some sort of tag for writing advice- i never expected to be asked this kind of question on a regular basis, hah. it’s quite difficult to put into words because my choices are all quite instinctive, but i’ll give it a shot. they’re both hard to get right because shouto is deceptively complex behind a blank slate & katsuki is a tangled mess of contradictions.

shouto:

a serious boy, and very straightforward. regardless of all other nuances this is sort of core to his character (and makes him hard to translate imo). so his voice should be very to the point, and his dialogue should also be honest, direct, and literal. no need to overstep it into making him obtuse and unable to read a room, but they’re sort of the core traits to fall back on when writing him- he deviates from them, but they form the basis of his character. on a similar note his lineage and the impact of his choices are heavy influences on him- even once he’s able to deal with them in a healthy(ier) way.

very clever! people like to downplay this for comedic value but shouto is canonically extremely observant, intelligent, and combines excellent instincts with a sharp mind. golden trio are all very clever and their smarts overlap more than people recognise- for example, at the sports fest, there are multiple scenes where their three internal monologues literally align. so shouto may misinterpret things to comedic effect, but he always notices.

rebellious. probably one of the most rebellious characters in 1-a, actually. bakugou has an attitude but he’s generally a stickler for the rules, and izuku only breaks rules for the greater good and is very deferential to authority. shouto, as a result of his upbringing, has 0 such qualms. if he disagrees with something he will voice it or act against it. also, this rebellious streak gives rise to a certain mischievousness (hidden beneath monotone delivery) that i imagine will only grow more apparent with age.

more personable than he is given credit for. shouto may be blunt and also have poor social skills in some situations but he is a very empathetic and supportive character who is really quite good at saying and doing the right thing. he motivates tenya vs stain, boosts momo’s confidence against aizawa, and generally reads his classmates pretty well.

funny. get the blunt oblivious humor across well, with that spark of mischief in there where he does it on purpose (‘reminds me of someone’...). also his conspiracy theories are a good combination of showcasing his observational skills and making light of his eternal seriousness by belying his guesses- though most of them do have grounds in reality.

on him and izuku: two aspects to their friendship- one, that it’s very professional, and two, that they really “get” each other. what unites them foremost are their shared goals, rivalry included, and they operate on similar (though distinct) wavelengths where heroism and fighting is concerned. so discussing work and strategy from different angles is always going to be involved. more importantly, izuku is shouto’s first friend, and in return shouto is probably the first friend izuku has that is like.. his ‘peer’ in terms of heroic potential, so their relationship matters a lot to both of them. shouto values izuku a lot, looks up to him, but is also bemused/amused by his neuroticisms and quirks. so a lot of respect, fondness, and light teasing from his part.

katsuki:

firstly a disclaimer as always: i always write katsuki somewhat further on in canon- evolved from the slow changes he’s going through within the show/manga (having confronted his issues on some level). this influences my writing choices w him as well as the far more positive relationships he has with the people around him.

angry... but what kind of angry? obv katsuki is a perma-pissed character, but people go way overboard with this- even in canon, he really does not spend a lot of his time yelling at the top of his lungs at everyone! katsuki is actually relatively *quiet*- in class he sits and scowls in silence a lot, and he doesn’t enjoy being engaged in conversation or talked about. he does have outbursts of anger when confronted with something he doesn’t like, but they’re usually followed up by more tame explanations or accusations. honestly when izuku’s not around he’s pretty calm- even early in canon kirishima notes how rational and well-spoken he gets when analysing technique. so do give him the classic foul-tempered and easily-triggered ranting, but remember that for the most part this represents a small fraction of his presence.

prideful as all hell. this goes for the good the bad and the ugly. pride is what motivates katsuki’s anger and like... all of his conflict lol. he starts off with WAY too much of it but it is also *so* important to him that any self-doubt destabilises him entirely. he struggles tremendously with tempering his pride. on the flipside, he is an extreme perfectionist because he prides himself of always giving 110% (esp in UA), and thus works very hard at what he does. this is a core value of his as well as potential for comedy since he takes everything so seriously. once his heart grows ten times its size (lol) this pride extends to people other than himself too- so his friends are included in the bubble.

smart- and rational. katsuki may let his emotions get the better of him, esp in early canon, where his temper and ego allow izuku to best him multiple times, but he is generally very rational- he only allows himself not to be when he is confident it isn’t needed. beyond academic smarts and battle instinct, he is usually very pragmatic in combat, as well as outside of it, where he is demonstrably well-adjusted to independent life and weirdly capable of an odd maturity vis a vis his classmates. in bakusquad this makes him the straight man to everyone’s antics.

this ties into the pride thing some, but katsuki is also both staunchly moral & very hard on himself. this is true of shouto also but tends to be ignored wrt katsuki, + while shouto is actually capable of recognising that he should cut himself some slack katsuki n izuku are usually not. obv staunch morality does not stop katsuki from being an ass but he has very clear lines he does not cross. also, he takes his every failure very personally and as a damning indictment of himself, particularly if someone else is involved. where shouto is more closed-off to vulnerability, katsuki is oddly vulnerable but just virulently hates it.

on izuku: god, i need a whole page to discuss just this. to keep it short the two of them fundamentally misunderstand one another and are too different to not rub each other the wrong way on some level, but they also represent important motivators to one another, esp in terms of heroism. post-dvp katsuki learns abt actual heroism through izuku’s relentess self-sacrifing antics, and that recognition changes him a lot. they will always be rough and slightly uncomfortable friends, but they are also incredibly ride-or-die and understand each other’s thought processes down to a T. katsuki bullies izuku into being a functioning human being now. izuku ribs him about his temper and is p much impervious to his taunts. they lovingly beat the shit out of each other when necessary.

this is already super long but i hope it is of some use- trying to verbalise subconscious choices is hard. if you have any more writing qs i’d be happy to answer either via inbox or dms.

[gonuclear]

spoilers under the cut!

lately i’ve been catching up with the mha manga and to be honest? all the gymnastics they’re doing to, i guess make us sympathize with endeavor?, are throwing me for the biggest loop.

it’s not even the fact that endeavor is a shitty dad and eugenicist dickbag, it’s said point blank several times in both the manga and the anime that he abused his entire family. he’s the reason touya became dabi, why shoto’s mom had to go to a mental institution, why it was literally a traumatic experience for shoto to use his other quirk. 

and imo i think it’s incredibly fucked up that shoto’s starting to be put in a situation where he’s being pressured to forgive endeavor. the things we get to see (endeavor’s reoccurring dream, for instance) that shoto doesn’t seems to further add to the “we need to be a complete family” message that’s being shoved at him. 

i honestly don’t know much about natsuo but i can assure you i like him a hell of a lot better than fuyumi for refusing endeavor’s attempt to reconcile even after he was saved by him and shoto. his resistance to endeavor’s desire to move on from the past feels incredibly real to someone who was also abused for most of their young life, and it also feels like a better representation of how it really feels to have to stay in contact with someone you hate because of what they did to you. 

i don’t know what’s going to happen next in shoto’s future and his (sorta) road to recovery and reconciliation, but i hope that they don’t keep trying to hammer in this inferred obligation on his part to forgive endeavor. 

and remember: you never have to forgive your abuser or keep talking to them. you have no obligation to them, especially after you’re able to get out of a bad situation. no one should make you feel that way, either. 

[shimurah]

I can’t believe we have to wait 2 weeks to either see if Deku defeats shigaraki or if shigaraki holds his own till gigantomachia shows up. Am I the only one who feels like this is a let down? Isn’t it convenient that Deku powers up when shigaraki is breaking. Will gigantomachia fall asleep or is he immune? Will the league make it? Everyone is happy to see shigaraki get killed while I can’t help but feel bad that all his build up is squashed. Think shigaraki still has a chance?

i don't think tomura will die, for multiple reasons (or maybe I'm just clowning, who knows)

i believe hrksh said that this only half of the manga. i have seen people worried if this is the end but taking in knowledge what hrksh said and the fact it's incredibly too early for it to be completed from narrative points of view, i can say we are safe in that area.

deku climbing when shigaraki is beginning to fall is suitable for the heroes, and while i imagine deku could most likely defeat tomura - considering what state he is in - i wholesome believe the heroes need to retreat soon. they have wounded, they need to give medical attention to more than one person & endwhore will not be able to keep up much longer even if shoto came as well.

tomura's condition looks indeed concerning; him not being able to hold his own much longer, his body breaking due to having been awakened premature, machia having being dosed a sleeping drug and the questions regarding whether or not he is immune, dabi being perhaps burnt up from all the fighting (?) although he does look he is enjoying himself in that panel we were blessed with.

deku pulling out nana's quirk against her nephew has been discussed by others. deku thrives using nana's legacy while nana's own descendant suffers because of it. deku's connection to all might and nana is what gets him the support of gran torino while tomura is given the complete opposite. gran torino blames him for having disconcerted all might and disturbed nana's memory. what makes deku rise makes tomura fall.

i don't like the thought of tomura hurting any further by the hands of deku who bears the quirk of tomura's own blood and flesh. him being put down with that quirk is truly exceeding upsetting and i wish nana would put an end to it ala avatar style but that is unlikely.

tomura's storyline is far from over. the death of him now and the manga being only 50 percent finished would be a low blow for the story. i'm going to get a little meta here --

in the current situation, deku & tomura are both grappling with the beliefs that were forced upon them. their relationship with justice and the grooming each has been subjected to has not been truly approached at this point and imo the manga needs to head there.

each has to move forward and let go of the white/black areas so they can stand on an unbiased, neutral ground where they can face each other properly if they must do so.

i believe that should be the goal of all this, from showing deku's life as a quirkless person and his struggles with it to him inheriting a quirk which uprises him as 'the greatest hero.' i will quote something i said in one of my previous posts:

"an example of this is actually the very main character deku who had been tormented for years on no end because he didn't possess quirk, because he part of the minority. instead of him realizing that what happened to him wasn't justified at all and that he can exist as a quirkless person with rights, it is all solved by making him the heir of the 'greatest hero' of the previous generation. and everyone goes along with it because that's how their toxic supremacist society operates."

& having shown tomura's origins and the beginning of his and AFO's 'mentorship.' how tomura accepted AFO's words as his own out of guilt and remorse, him holding the belief destruction is all that there is to him. (its not)

this is why i can't picture tomura dying. as i said, the story is far from done with him and he isn't done with it either. hrksh killing his major villain, to whom he dedicated entire arcs and gave major development, in the middle of the story sounds like a very, very dumb bitch move. hrksh must realize he is setting his manga up to being absolute junk if he does kill tomura now.

[monotonous-minutia]

Cendrillon (Met 2018)

Started last night, fell asleep halfway through (it was a weird day), the post somehow survived without being saved and here we are.

I wonder if there are any spoilers on the walls.

POWER TO THE TROUSER ROLES mezzos rule (I know that’s not what he meant but given there’s a trouser mezzo in this opera I can’t help but wonder if it’s a pun)

<3

second time I’ve seen her as Cinderella and so far Massenet’s is more depressing than Rossini’s

okay this is a bit trippy

I love her so much

those horses area liiiiittle creepy

Prince is sassy

okay that ballet or whatever was super weird and a little disturbing tbh

and it’s just going to keep getting weirder isn’t it

he’s having it about as much as I am

now things are happening very quickly also I’m getting a lot of Greek Chorus vibes from this piece

what am i supposed to focus on i can’t keep my eyes off either of these two i think my head is going to explode

yeah definitely more depressing also subtitles please quit it with the question marks, this is week 16 you should have it figured out by now

the choreography just keeps getting weirder but Kim was made for this role so I can forgive it I suppose

wait what

but apparently you don’t get a name

hello goodbye i’m dead

so wait that WASN’T the happy ending?

oh dang well that happened also what is it with these French bass-baritone dads that just stand there while their children lie dying on the ground

cause of death two mezzos being insanely adorable and in love

sure mom, sure

I mean you had me going there for a while also Lucette’s smile ahhh

meta af

come on cowards let your mezzos kiss onstage

I still love her despite her unexpected moral ambiguity

This was my first time with this opera and it was very interesting. A lot of unexpected twists and turns and very depressing at points; it’s been a while since I’ve read the original original fairy tale so I’m not sure if it’s going for greater accuracy or if Henri Cain likes torturing audiences or if Massent’s music just lends itself best to depressing (the only other operas of his I’ve seen/heard are Thaïs and Werther so).

The fact that the Prince is a mezzo though sold me 1000% because, well, you know me...

I kinda want to talk to the choreographer to see what exactly was going through their mind with this production because the dance sequences were super weird and (as mentioned above) a little disturbing...like at one point it insinuated that they ate the Prince...which...how does one come up with that, let alone have the place of mind to pull it off...

the set was interesting though, with all the text on the walls from the story. It really lent itself well to the surreal sound of the music (which was fantastic at evoking the fairy tale feel) and the strange, extremely flowery libretto. The costumes for the supers were pretty Extra and I get they were going for a comic feeling but it was kind of distracting and didn’t really suit the more somber feel of this piece.

even if the production had been terrible though it still would have been worth it because this cast was phenomenal. Like a production with just one of them would have sold me but ALL FOUR IN ONE PLACE like seriously it was a diva awesomeness overload and that might have been part of the reason I couldn’t finish it in one sitting.

For one thing, Joyce DiDonato pretty much owns the role of Cinderella now in any incarnation and it may be my personal opinion or it could be fact, who knows. I can’t get over how amazing and versatile she is and that voice and her face and she’s so cute and her acting is on point and her expressions and her chemistry with the other performers and and and ahhhhhhhhhhhh she pulled off the smol sweet fragile tiny adorable sad selfless spritely little Cinderella so well and I died.

Kathleen Kim as the Fairy Godmother was a stroke of genius. She was so PRETTY and her voice matches the character perfectly and all her little quirks and expressions really portrayed the depth of this character who was a very surprising incarnation. She’s not the totally sweet, altruistic fairy that we’re used to. Idk what her whole plan was, or her motives, of if it’s just a French Opera Thing that everything has to be more complicated and it’s not complete if all the heroes aren’t at the brink of death at some point, but whatever the reasoning, Kim OWNED it and despite my initial disbelief at the unexpected twist she convinced me. I don’t think just anyone could pull that off. Kim is something special.

I haven’t seen her in as many things but imo Alice Coote is one of the best trouser mezzos. I don’t really get into gendered appearances or ways of moving around because gender is fluid and not binary etc. etc. but for the sake of storytelling and character portrayals DANG (WO)MAN she nails it to the point that if I see her in an interview or something offstage I invariably think “Oh, what, she’s not actually a boy” ALSO she is just EXTREMELY cute and sassy and I love her expressions and pretty much everything about her so yeah. Also I can’t express my nerdy happiness that the two leads are mezzos. But also frustration because excuse me, it’s not a fairy tale if the prince and princess don’t kiss at the end, that’s like the whole point, and I’m pretty sure if he’d been a tenor they’d let it happen, but god forbid we get the tiniest bit of gay onstage.

And Stephanie Blythe--I keep seeing her in all these incredibly different roles and keep thinking at some point she’s not going to be able to pull it off because they’re all so different and then I keep getting more impressed because she does pull it off and then I feel bad for doubting her. This evil stepmother also had a surprising ending and I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be funny or ironic or maybe both, but, like Kim, Blythe was excellent at capturing the ambiguity.

sooooo anyway that’s me nerding out about my divas and I’d give the production 3/5 probably, points taken for the weird costumes and disturbing ballet sequences and not letting the ladies kiss onstage. But the cast gets 100/5 because, well, if you got this far you know why.

[silenthillmutual]

A trio of prompts that'll go well together imo: 25, 26, and 31. Burakhovsky if you can, but if you think anything goes better im excited and happy!

Wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast + Cuddling in comfortable silence before murmuring “I love you” + “You’ve got something on your lip, here let me.”

so you want tooth-rotting fluff, huh? (prompts from here)

-------

Dankovsky is far more affectionate than Artemy had assumed he would be. 

Daniil. He guesses, now, that he should call the man by his first name; and Daniil seems very different, sometimes, from Dankovsky. Dankovsky works very clinically, detached; he smiles politely, holds gazes for three seconds exactly before resetting, and quotes Latin proverbs to reinforce the idea that he’s smarter than he really is. Daniil, though - Daniil doesn’t bother holding eye contact, letting himself stare off into space as he talks. He over-worries about the kids in the town, almost leans against Artemy’s body as he shifts weight uncomfortably between his feet, and mostly quotes Latin to get away with insulting the rulers to their faces. 

Artemy catches the last one when they’re both called in to answer boos Vlad. And he catches it, because “up yours” is the only phrase he’d learned in class he thought might be useful later on. He makes a choking sound, and his eyes lock with Daniil’s catching a self-satisfied smirk that he could, for once, appreciate. 

He thinks that’s when Daniil made his decision.

--

After their moment of shared understanding, a concept that still astounds Artemy at just how small a thing it was and how easy it would have been to miss, he notices that Dankovsky slips into Daniil more and more readily. At first it only happens when they’re totally alone in the hospital, and Artemy is able to write off his softer tone and careless words as exhaustion. He admits he finds the ruling families - even his own - difficult to talk to. He confides that he thinks they’re all lying to him and hiding something. Artemy finds himself saying, “They’re using your ignorance to try and sway you to their cause.”

He panics for a moment, worried the words will come back to bite him in the ass. But Daniil only removes his gloves so he can slide his hands through his hair nervously. He sighs, and says, “You’re probably right, but what else am I supposed to do?”

Artemy thinks the words, Come to me, but doesn’t say them, because at that point the suggestion feels too intimate. He hasn’t really learned to read Dankovsky from Daniil yet, even if the shift is easily recognizable. He still wears the coat and the gloves and stands apart from everyone else, keeping up a border between himself and the locals. So instead he says, “Get some sleep, emshen.” 

“I will if you do,” Daniil retorts, already standing up to continue doing whatever it is he came into the hospital to do. “And it looks like you need it. You’re not just a pretty face, you know. We need your steady hands...well, steady.” 

Artemy had grunted in response and started to move, catching onto the words only after too much time had passed for him to ask about them. He told himself it was just Dankovsky slipping into character again, giving out a backhanded remark to chastise him into taking care of himself. It was his odd way of showing that he cared, and thinking of it as anything else was just too much. Thinking of it for what it actually was was more than he could handle. 

And he thinks its a fluke, that this is Dankovsky’s version of ribbing the way he’s used to interacting with Gravel and Grief and Stakh. Daniil’s version of it is just different because of where he’s from and his whole...thing, his whatever-it-was that made him establish his presence differently from everybody else. His Lines, Artemy guesses he could say, though he’s not even sure if that’s it. But he keeps telling himself that’s all that comment was - just teasing, just a different way of saying I’ve seen corpses prettier than you, not a real compliment and nothing to get hung up on. 

He loops it like ambiance until he’s eating in the back of the hospital with Dankovsky and Yulia, lost in his mental to-do list and the status of his bound and the words it means nothing, it means nothing echoing until the actual words “You’ve got - nevermind, let me -” break through them, and he realizes Dankovsky’s ungloved hand is brushing against his mouth, thumb lingering a little too long on his lips. 

There’s a smirk there, again. But it’s not particularly smug. It’s more of a lop-sided smile, like his mouth has gotten used to the movement and it doesn’t know how to produce something less sharp to illustrate what he actually feels. 

It’s in his eyes, Artemy think, that he sees it. That’s where he sees Daniil, and where he sees he’s not actually imagining things. It’s also in Yulia’s eyes - or, actually, in her eyebrows, quirking up, telling him It means something.

--

Even with all of the evidence pointing in this direction, it still takes Artemy a remarkably long time to make his own move. Daniil doesn’t seem to mind it very much; if anything, he seems to be enjoying every one of Artemy’s startled responses to his lingered affection. Each gesture is followed with a look that Artemy can never seem to memorize properly, staring at it until Daniil’s eye contact (seven seconds, they’re up to now, before he becomes uncomfortable and looks away) is pulled elsewhere. And he’ll pull these gestures out when he’s still Dankovsky, when they’re still surrounded, smiling that sharp smile until they’ve held gazes for a moment and it softens. 

He doesn’t really know what to do with this affection. Most of it’s unspoken, unquantifiable and intangible. Which is not to say there’s nothing of this bizarre courtship to hold onto. No: Daniil also sends him letters. They’re written in cursive (which Artemy hates; pretty, sure, but completely useless), most of it poetry, and some of it in other languages. Not just Latin, either; there’s French and German peppered in. He can’t tell which pieces are original and which Daniil has just memorized. A part of him wonders what else Daniil would be sending if they weren’t in the middle of curing a plague. 

That same part of him lurches and drops when it occurs to him that he’s probably not even responding properly. 

It’s been four days of casual, but warm touches and tender looks and poetry sent in pieces throughout the day when Artemy blurts out, awkward and clumsy, “I don’t know how to respond to you.” He does, at least, make sure that they’re alone in the hospital, or at least as alone as they’re going to get with dead and the near-unconscious.

Daniil isn’t looking at him at first when he smiles, but his gaze does direct upwards. “I don’t expect you to respond at all,” he says. 

Which solves the anxiety telling Artemy that this has all been a joke, or maybe some sort of stress-induced hallucination. But it doesn’t exactly make him feel any better, because there’s no guarantee in the words that Daniil knows his efforts are appreciated. “Shouldn’t I?” he asks. “Considering...”

He doesn’t know how to say what it is he’s considering, but shakes his head, noise like a laugh rattling around in his throat, quiet. “You already do,” he says.

Artemy, of course, doesn’t know what the hell that means, or what kind of a reaction he’s giving that Daniil is getting what he wants out of it. But Daniil is giving him that look again, the one he keeps trying to see when he closes his eyes, and any other attempts at response shut off.

--

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that when he asks Daniil to stay, Daniil does. And maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that he clarifies, Stay with me. But it does, because that’s not a request he had been thinking of making. The words had left his mouth without him really thinking them through. 

Those surprises seem dull in contrast to the one he feels when Daniil hums as he thinks about it, and then politely declines. Artemy feels large and clumsy and surrounded by so many fragile items when he asks, “Why not?” despite the truth of the matter being that he wasn’t actually prepared for that much of a life change in one go. 

Daniil sways, slightly drunk, leaning on Artemy’s arm, and mumbles the words, “I’m not doing wooing you yet.” 

It doesn’t really hit him why it all makes sense until now, when he’s kind of in a daze about everything and reflecting on the fact that it’s been an entire month and a half since the army left town. A month and one-half, and the slow pacing doesn’t feel so slow anymore. It’s only been a month and one half plus two weeks that they’ve known each other. Of course asking Daniil to stay with him had been colossally stupid. 

There’s no one to notice his flush. Not because he’s alone; far from it. The streets have returned to their bustling nature and the kids are at home, but he isn’t there. He’s in a house in the Stone Yard with Daniil. Not in Eva’s, anymore, as he’s no longer a guest. And for the same reasons, Artemy has no issues pushing himself up from the bed and heading down the stairs to the kitchen. Maybe cooking will distract him from the memory of sheer lunacy that was asking a man he’d only known a week to live with him.

But his isolation doesn’t last long. If he were more poetic, he’d have some flowery way to word the fact that he’d never wanted it. Daniil wore his like protection, but where he normally distanced himself with at least a little bit of pride, Artemy’s otherness was a source of melancholy. Moments like this were never different. Daniil clings in his sleep, where he’s entirely Daniil and his guard is let down. He clings, too, when he’s just woken up, or when they’re alone together and the only part of Dankovsky the Bachelor left is his coat. The metaphorical clinging, the kind with his words, becomes literal in moments like this, and Artemy lets out a breath when Daniil’s arms go around him. 

He wants to stop in his movements and hold him back, but there’s a reason Artemy doesn’t act on every impulse he feels. He reigns these in as he works on their food, feeling Daniil’s chest move in breaths against his back as he wakes up just out of sight. 

Once he’s done cooking, he can turn around, no longer all that surprised at how strong Daniil’s arms are around his body. 

Artemy stares down at Daniil, looking up his chest at him, and thinks about what he wants to say. He thinks about what he said, when he first came back home, to all this death and this trauma and his friends barely speaking; to his father’s death and the reason the disease came back; to not trusting Daniil or Clara or the Inquisitor or the Army and being scared shitless they’d all be killed. He thinks about how he said he wasn’t sure if he knew how to love, and there are still parts of him that think he doesn’t know how to properly. He thinks about his aborted attempts to write or research poetry and letters to send back and all the times he wanted to kiss first but felt too clumsy. 

What he says is, “I made you breakfast.” He closes his eyes, and squeezes his fingers just tight enough to make his knuckles crack. “That’s not what I meant,” he says.

But Daniil, in a move so typical of Dankovsky, interrupts him, humming as he reaches around Artemy to grab a plate. “I know,” he says. “I love you, too.”