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#villains month 2022
ksantillus · 1 year
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“You’re in my world now, not your world!
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snowshowerwriting · 1 year
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Hiding Underneath
Edit 1 : Grammar review, minor changes
Part 1
What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?
Those four words rang in Hero's head like a chant from a crowd, a displeased crowd. Silently, Hero berated themselves for not bringing up their fists when they saw Villain. It had been a while since Hero had faced off the Villain without a team- it had been a while since they had faced off Villain themselves.
It didn't feel like the old times, not after the time the two worked together, and especially not after their final battle against Supervillain.
Not with how Villain slithered into their thoughts every day, in every waking moment.
"You don't seem so excited to see me today, Darling," Villain's smooth voice chuckled.
Hero gulped, shifting their weight from one leg to the other. "Well, you seem much too eager to see me," they muttered, shoulders tense and stiff. "So I guess you can say it evens out?" Villain raised a brow, half amused at the other's response.
With a hop and a skip, Villain had made it from the fire escapes onto the rooftop. Their silhouette blended in amongst the shadows of the taller buildings surrounding them. Even then, Hero's eyes could make out his shape as moved swiftly towards him.
"You're awfully quiet, darling," the villain hummed lowly. A small glint came from Villain's hands, and Hero realized that he held a knife. Though nothing threateningly. In fact, Villain simply spun the blade around with his nimble fingers. They stared at it for a few moments before turning their gaze back out to the cityscape.
"I've got nothing much to say," Hero sighed, moving to hug themself. "Not after all that you've given me last time we met, anyways." They continued, quieter than before.
Out of all the responses, Hero didn'te expect the Villain to spill out into laughter. "Really? Think nothing much of it, honestly. I doubt anyone will believe you anyways," he said, the laughter ebbing into chuckling. He leaned to the side, balancing his weight on an arm.
Hero frowned in skepticism. It didn't really seem fair, not with how much Villain had opened up about himself to Hero. Meanwhile, the most their nemesis knew was probably Hero's scheduled fights and perhaps how much of a heavy sleeper Hero was (from when they had a 72-hour stakeout outside one of Supervillain's hideouts).
"How about this," Villain started, catching the other's attention. "You tell me a secret about yourself, yeah?" He offered. The villain quickly noticed how devious that question sounded, before adding on quickly, "Like, I just mean small secrets. It doesn't have to be some shit like where you live or when you go to work or whatever. It can literally be your favorite food for all I care. I mean, it's a secret for me nonetheless."
After a few seconds passed, the hero smiled. It was small, but frankly speaking, Hero probably hadn't been able to ease up for a while now. They took in a deep breath, looking at Villain before sighing. "You know how we had to do the stakeout a month back?" Villain nodded at the question, leaning it while resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, well I actually hate the ramen you bought during those days."
Villain's eyes widened whilst Hero laughed at the other's reaction. "What?! Why didn't you just tell me, I don't mind buying a different packet!"
"No, nono, it's not your fault," the hero said between laughter. Once calming down, they continued on. "Actually, I don't like ramen at all. Not just that specific brand... When I was small, uh, my older sister.." Hero drifted off for a moment, debating whether to continue the story. Would this be breaching any of their rules? Bringing family into this business? But with how the villain encouraged them with that face, Hero couldn't back down.
"My older sister basically raised me and my brother. Unfortunately, the first couple of years she looked after us, we practically survived on junk food including ramen," they recounted, scrunching their nose at the memory. "Eventually, she learned to make some food. Every Friday, we'd have this killer fried rice she'd spend an hour making. All with the leftover vegetables and stuff from the week. Now that? I'd kill for that."
A fond smile fell over their lips as they recalled the long-forgotten memory being rediscovered. That wasn't the only secret they spilled that night.
Stories of the Hero's childhood were now exposed to Villain over the course of two hours, between bouts of jester and laughter. As the sun began to rise, Hero finally came to terms with something that had been plaguing them. Hero trusted Villain with much more than just their secrets. Neither of them lied to eachother during their conversations. Comforting words, and honest memories were shared.
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Thoughts on rewatch of the Batman 2022
"Ave Maria" faintly playing in the background in the beginning. Hadn't noticed that before.
Gotta look fabulous before going to beat the life out of criminals.
This movie does a perfect job of separating Batman and Bruce Wayne. How different those two people are, despite being the same person.
Another aspect I love is that this is the very beginning stages of Batman's journey. He's not the "perfect, no mistakes, flawless detective work" Batman that most movies portray. He's learning, making mistakes, still needs to improve his skills and craft. And since it's the first years and he hasn't been established as an asset to the Gotham PD yet, the officers, rightfully so, *do not* like him which makes a lot of sense than letting him run amok. (Not that that gets any better with time but you feel the difference in how they take Batman's presence.)
"The city's eating itself. Maybe it's beyond saving. But I have to try." SEE that is how you characterise Bruce, hope and endurance in the face of despair.
The narrative parallel between the death of the mayor and his son finding the body, and young Bruce watching his parents being murdered. Oh, it's so good, I'm gonna eat my hand.
Bruce saying he doesn't care what happens to his family's business and all the work they've done, equating his worth to what he does as a vigilante just goes to show how much the trauma and mental anguish has taken over his life, and now the severe depression, suicidal tendencies, even subconsciously just looking for an excuse to not live hits too close to home.
Robert Pattinson's back 😳 (I am a whore, leave me alone)
Batman fucking up the twins will never not be funny.
You've gotta be honest, our edgelord's entrance into Penguin's lair is nothing short of iconic.
I love this version of Penguin so much, he's the right amount of menacing and goofy.
THE FIRST MEETING OF BATCAT. Love-at-first-sight if I've ever seen it.
I fucking LOVE seeing Catwoman in action.
If I don't meet my S/O with us having a 1v1 and them manhandling me, what even is the point of it all.
Selina and Bruce's socio-economic background play such a big role in their reasons and aspirations to be heroes (or vigilantes). Glad this movie doesn't gloss over that.
Batsy is such a bastard in his early days. Selina should deck him.
He has so much to learn and grow, not just as Batman, but as a person. Yes, this is about him sending Selina as a spy.
Bruce Wayne looking like he's having the worst time of his life when he's in public. I love this socially repulsive man with all my heart.
Bruce seeing his child self in the mayor's son, but now with new responsibility of solving this mystery, just wow. A lot of movies, at least the live-action ones, tend to not prioritise portraying Bruce's childhood or the trauma he experienced with the gruesome murder of his parents, because at his core that's what led him down this path, it's just as, if not more, important, to him being the saviour, the knight of Gotham.
Him getting jealous thinking that's Selina with Falcone. Somebody's in love.
Riddler and his stupid love letters. Get a life.
Batman, you idiot, why would you stand with your face right infront for the bomb.
The police station scene is so funny. Poor Jim is losing it. "Great, now I got you on assaulting an officer." "You got me on assaulting three." Bad bitch energy.
"We gotta get you out of here buddy." "🥺" Gay behaviour.
OOOOOH. THE ESCAPE SCENE. Can't wait to see Batsy hit the ground and eat shit. THERE IT IS.
The fucking chase scene. Hell yeah. Emo Batman has some of the best entrances and chases in this movie. It's actually fun to watch and isn't cringe. What a refreshing change.
"Good cop, batshit cop." Jim shoving the pictures of the mutilated face into Penguin's face. I can't breathe.
Jim and Bats interrogating Penguin. Penguin roasting the fuck out of them. "No habla espanol, fellas?" "Shut up!" FUCKING HILARIOUS. Them leaving his tied up, and him waddling while cursing. THAT'S how you do comedy without breaking the tone of the movie, especially for dark superhero movies.
I know Alfred doesn't die but godsdammit I hate seeing him hurt.
Bruce lashing out because he feels betrayed but also reeling from getting flashbacks to his father's death while seeing Alfred in that bed, my boy was in the worst emotional state. I forgive him for being a little bitch to his dad (Alfred).
The heart to heart between Bruce and Alfred is such a tender and love-full moment. I needed that :,)
Selina should have just killed Kenzie before Bats came around. I support women's rights, but more importantly I support women's right to murder.
Carmine Falcone is such a sleazebag character. He gives me the creeps.
I love Jim Gordon. No particular scene inspired that statement, I just love him.
THE SECOND BEST HALLWAY FIGHT SCENE IN THE WORLD. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. I want it injected in my veins.
When Falcone is arrested and Penguin speaks against Carmine, I love that scene because it's a subtle indication to the end of the movie, where we see Penguin will now take over the criminal underworld of Gotham. The mighty Falcon has been taken down, the city is drowned. What better opportunity for a flightless bird to takeover?
Riddler with his dumb ass jokes and reddit lives. What a clown. He's dangerous but I can't take him seriously.
Batman appears and he just [starts screaming] peak teenage boy behaviour. Cringe lord. Be better.
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Starting the movie with "I am darkness", contemplating if Gotham can even be saved, and ending it with Batman lighting the way, leading Gotham out of the destruction. GODS. Him coming to the realisation that Gotham, and by extension himself, need hope and change, not clinging to the past, not vengeance. That is so poetic.
In regards to BatCat, the last meeting really signifies their love story. He loves her, he truly does, and maybe in this version of the story they end up together despite all the, but Gotham will always be his priority. She wants him to live, not just exist, but live, but Bruce gave up on that idea long ago.
"The Bat and the Cat, its got a nice ring to it. [Pause] Who am I kidding? You're already spoken for." OK, Mr. Matt Reeves, why don't you just shoot me between the eyes?
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san-tsun · 2 years
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revelingrexan · 9 months
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this project started because my brain was like "oh Spark's sticker (yellow team leader) has a really nice smile. :) ... nice smile = White HatOHCOME ON"
then i needed to see him in all the poses (in the blue team outfit for the rest because he'd be blue team)
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ggomomomo · 2 years
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What It Means to be Bad
@felixmonth
Felix Week 2022 Day 3 (Fantasia Version) | Villain
AO3 | Masterlist
[last scene inspired by this post]
He only comes out at night for fresh air.
Safely tucked in the shadows, he avoids Ladybug's usual routes and strolls from one rooftop to another. The night is cloudy and the chill of the breeze distracts him from his thoughts.
And then he feels it.
Bottled, uncontrollable emotion, threatening to spill out of a fragile heart. He braces himself against a wall as it stirs in his head. The connection makes him dizzy. Throws him out of balance. It's nearby—he can feel it. He can hear the clanging noise. He can see the burning reds and dull grays.
Familiar but not his.
As he tears himself away, he spots the balcony sitting atop a bakery. There's a girl slouching behind its railings, head bowed and hands loosely dangling. He jumps to towards her, two feet balanced on the balcony railing.
Marinette jumps into a defensive stance. "Aglais." Her face contorts. "What are you doing here?"
Aglais lowers himself into a sitting position. "Was out for a stroll." He taps the center of his chest. "I heard you."
Her wariness doesn't waver. She remains quiet.
"You can cry," he offers quietly. "It's alright if you do."
The laugh that she lets out is hollow. "In front of you? Yeah, sure."
He feels the sharpness, the protection she's holding over her feelings. What does he even expect? Marinette welcoming him into her room with warm pastries? Venting out to him?
He wants to tell her why he came: you seem to dislike my other self.
A voice in his head cuts in. 'And you think approaching her as your alter ego works?'
"I'm not going to do anything." There isn't even an available butterfly in sight.
Marinette looks away, walking over to the other side of the balcony. She runs her hand through her hair in frustration. He thinks about leaving.
"I promise," he encourages again.
"Why? Why me? Why now?"
"You're hurting," he replies. "More than anyone I've seen before. Letting it out will help."
"By being under your control and destroying the city?" She rolls her eyes.
Aglais pulls his lips into a thin line. She's not wrong. It's ironic how he, of all people, is the one telling her this.
"I'm not going to do anything," he says one more time. "I'll stay here. You can cry."
Marinette tilts her head to watch the stars instead. Her fingers are trembling as she clings onto her unshed tears. Aglais tries his best to cut off the connection, feeling like an intruder amongst her emotions. He counts the seconds that pass by and hopes that she will at least take the chance.
One. Two. Three. Four.
She bites her quivering lip.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
Her eyes squeeze shut.
Nine. Ten. Eleven.
The first tear drops.
Marinette cries silently with her shoulders heaving up and down. His heart breaks at the sound of it. It washes over him like months of pent-up agony, like glass suddenly shattering. She drops her head and cries it all out: the loneliness, rejection, anger, heartache, envy, stress. Waves are crashing. Walls are toppling over. War drags out in the distance.
To Aglais, the negative emotions he senses aren't beautiful.
He doesn't grow eager at the potential victim. He doesn't hatch a devilish plan. He grieves with her, wanting to catch all her worries and make them go away when he knows he can't.
She spends a few minutes crying before it descends into soft sniffles. Marinette furiously rubs her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks.
He says nothing.
"I still don't get why you're doing this," she mumbles, turning to look at him.
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"For not doing more." He traces fabric of his suit. He's genuinely remorseful. He wishes she can really see that.
Marinette scoffs. "That's stupid. You don't do any good."
"Yeah, I don't."
He slinks away, back to the dark crevices where he belongs. He lets himself look back once, and is met with her befuddled expression—forehead creased and tongue slightly sticking out in an attempt to solve a puzzle.
Aglais sighs. It's another sleepless night for him. 
---
Marinette seems extra sluggish that day.
Félix watches as she practically drags herself up the stairs and into her seat beside him. He tries not to look conspicuous in doing so, but he continues to stare at the large thermos of coffee in her hand. The circles under her eyes are a shade darker. She looks pale. Sick even.
He doesn't need to transform to feel her colorless emotions.
"Marinette! Are you okay? You look awful!" The brunette sitting in front of them turns her head, voicing out concern. "Especially with that photo going around . . ."
A scowl takes over Marinette's face for a split second. "I'm fine," she mumbles.
"Did he hurt you?" Lila asks.
"He didn't do anything."
Félix's fingers twitch with guilt. He still can't believe he didn't notice someone taking a picture of the previous night. The photograph is dark, but the people in it are unmistakable. He contemplates destroying all evidence. But doing that will rouse suspicion.
He thought what he did for Marinette was a favor. He let her cry out her stress without the danger of attracting an akuma. However, it's currently doing her more harm than good. She looks as burdened if not more.
"Did he say something to you?"
Marinette takes a swig of her drink. "Nothing much."
Lila's lip tugs down with practiced sympathy. "It's awful for you to experience that. How come Ladybug hasn't taken him down yet? It's only one villain."
Félix ignores Marinette's hitch of breath. He points his sharp gaze at their classmate. "Ladybug's already doing what she can for the city. She's fighting akumas nearly everyday."
"Yeah, I get that, but shouldn't the Order do something about it if it's clearly not working out with her?" Lila argues back.
He forces down his annoyance. Ladybug is a formidable hero. She's creative, tactful, fierce. A mere civilian has no right to insult her without understanding her position.
Félix rubs the spot on his chest where the two brooches are pinned on the underside of his vest. "That's Ladybug and the Order's business. I suggest you avoid talking carelessly about them in case they catch word of it."
Lila frowns at him and gives a cheery smile towards Marinette. "Anyway, make sure to rest up, Mari! Don't mind all the articles, okay?"
He feels the incoming nausea. He has akumatized Lila Rossi before but nothing can make him doing it again. Peeking into her emotions is like staring down into a pit of horrors. Her psyche is nothing but putrid. Condescending. What's worse is that she has shown eagerness in being one of Aglais' soldiers again.
He takes a peek at Marinette. Visiting her again isn't an option and attempting to talk to her in school is out of the question. She always has a silent animosity towards him, but he's starting to consider that it's towards everyone. To keep herself guarded. To distance her heart away. Last night was a cruel act towards her; the only time she loses hold of her feelings is in front of him.
The squeezing in his chest becomes more painful as he weaves through more realizations. The media can speculate their collusion. Or they might trap her to keep her 'safe'. What he did last night is selfish; he failed to consider the immediate consequences.
He pushes his thoughts aside as the teacher enters the classroom. He cannot let them consume him. Because he's the only one who can afford to entertain them.
He doesn't deserve to feel.
Especially when he has the entire city's emotions shackled.
---
Ladybug isn't behaving like usual.
Aglais holds back on his attacks, staying behind Phoenix, his new sentimonster. He observes her movements. They're sharp and quick, but her eyes are lacking focus. Her yoyo throws are almost half-hearted, like she's purposefully avoiding her target.
He lets Phoenix wreak havoc in another area while he leaps to a rooftop, a level above where the heroine is. She wastes no time lunging towards him as she spins her weapon for defense. Aglais retaliates with his cane and falls into the familiar dance of battle with her. However, he restrains his steps and concentrates on studying hers. She's out of rhythm. Either nervous or exhausted.
He takes it down a notch, hoping that it isn't too obvious. Ladybug sidesteps to dodge his attack and after another clash, she suddenly stops.
He also freezes.
It's the first time she stops.
Ladybug has never engaged in any serious confrontation. Occasionally, they spit insults at each other though none of their words hold reasoning.
Now, it's just them, standing in front of each other with steady gazes.
Finally, she speaks. Her voice is weak. "Why do you do what you do?"
He answers truthfully. "So I can bring the Miraculouses where they belong."
As expected, she's unconvinced. Her feet are still posed ready for a fight but she doesn't make any sudden movements. "They're safe with the Order."
"That's what they want you to think."
She takes in a shaky breath, fists clenching. She's thinking. Pondering about his words. Aglais can feel every inch of her soul and his own hums with similar sentiments. She's tired. He's tired. She's doubting. He's wary. She's in an internal conflict. Conflict is his home.
Aglais continues, "They belong to my family. The Order has exploited the Miraculouses before and they continue to do so now. They make firm rules on the usage of power but never warn holders about the underlying danger."
Her glare is venomous. "The Order's job is to guard the Miraculouses. From people like you."
"If that's what you believe then why ask me about anything?"
She stumbles a little but regains her composure. "Because there must be another way to give you what you want."
"I don't want anything. Not power. Not fame or attention." He leans on his cane. "I only want the Miraculouses."
Her eyes darken. "That's the problem."
He has always thought of her as a sensible person. Someone willing to understand and comprehend his perspective. But as long as her mind is clouded by the Order's ideals, he can't help her see the truth. It doesn't help that Paris is against him.
And yet he sees her as a reflection of him. Lonely and drowning. Numb on some days, panic-stricken on others.
Ladybug puts a hand on her head, as if telling herself that conversing with him is a preposterous idea. "Nevermind," she says. "You're only saying that so I take pity—"
"Have you ever wondered why your kwami can't tell you much?" He asks. "Or why the Order hasn't gone to fight me themselves?"
"I have but there's a reason for that," she snaps. "You're trying to poison my head."
"Your faith in them is admirable but I can tell your heart wants to break free." Aglais earns another glare from her. "That's okay. I will not force you to take my side. I'm only asking you to think about what I said. I'm sure you can tell that I have no reason to lie to you."
She doesn't stay for another word. Ladybug jumps away with her yoyo to pursue the sentimonster, leaving him on the rooftop.
Aglais reaches up to rub his mask. He can't decide if the conversation was fruitful or not. There's a chance she'll come at him with vengeance in the next attack. He sighs, calls the feather back, and hides away to detransform.
---
Félix reclines back on an old Chesterfield chair situated near the path of light filtering into the room. His hideout needs a bit of cleaning, he knows, but he gets too swamped to actually do it. He drapes an arm over his eyes, wondering if he'll send out an akuma or sentimonster later that day.
The past few days drained his energy. His thoughts are too messy for him to craft another scheme to get through the Order.
Footsteps by the entrance jolt him out of his seat. He keeps an eye for it as he whispers, "Nooroo. Duusu."
Félix swiftly transforms and goes up to the hallway. Only a few people know about the place, and he isn't expecting anyone. He slides open the door.
It reveals a heavily injured heroine.
"Ladybug," he breathes out.
Ladybug is propped against the wall. There's a hole torn on her suit by her shoulder—the edges look blackened. Charred. The exposed skin is cut and bleeding. A dazed look engulfs her eyes. She looks like she's fighting for consciousness. Her hair is tousled, her body is shivering, and her yoyo helplessly dangles by her waist. A quick once-over tells him that she's favoring one foot.
Aglais examines his surroundings, expecting a trap. But nothing comes out. He rushes forward to help her. "What happened?"
Her eyelids are drooping. "No . . . nowhere else . . . to go," she murmurs before collapsing in his arms. 
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allthoughts-headgay · 2 years
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i made a playlist for Ranger’s Apprentice Month day 8 (villain au)!
it’s about if Horace joined Morgarath because he didn’t see any other way to survive. Some of these songs are Horace being sad ab leaving ppl like Will behind to die and wishing he’d done things differently even though he knows its too late to change, some are ab Horace hating the situation he’s in but feeling forced to go along with it, almost like a tired sarcastic and hating his life sorta thing, some r ab Horace losing trust in Auralen, the government, and the rangers, some r about Horace feeling like it’d be better to just give in and lean all the way into the evil villain killer thing
i also imagine Horace being mad at Will but also simpathetic for him, because Horace feels like things could’ve been prevented from getting so bad (Morgarath taking over) if Will had just done more. i rlly like this combination of a bunch of lines from Mr Malum that i came up w/ lol “the last thing that you will see is Mr Malum (Morgarath), cause when the truth arrived, you didn’t trust your eyes” as like Horace talking to Will bc in this au Will tried to deny how bad things were and didn’t act on the issues.
anyways ramble over lol btw multiple different genres and vibes going on, its mostly ab the story and not cohesiveness lol
@rangersapprenticemonth
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4KdWDizkkSgaOx5LmxQWUk?si=gvjMLaoZSCOpEhAJIzHxhw
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Shinkami Month 2022
Shinkami Month 2022 by altering
Words: 4017, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Kaminari Denki, Shinsou Hitoshi
Relationships: Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi
Additional Tags: Traitor Kaminari Denki, Alternate Universe - Pro Heroes
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40038786
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shotoh · 1 year
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all mine
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SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.
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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
word count: 9.6k+
genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst
tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language
author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 
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The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.
“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.
“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.
The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”
Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.
A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.
She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.
One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.
If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.
Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.
Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”
Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.
“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”
“But–”
“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.
“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”
.
.
Man, what an annoying woman.
Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.
His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.
“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.
But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.
Besides...
“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”
His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”
He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.
You.
“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.
After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.
While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.
The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.
Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.
Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.
You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.
The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.
Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.
“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.
Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.
Fuckin’ hell.
The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.
In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.
Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”
The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.
His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.
Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.
“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.
The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”
He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.
You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.
Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.
“You’re killing me here, dammit.”
You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”
He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.
Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.
He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.
“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”
The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.
Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.
Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.
The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.
He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.
“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.
Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”
“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.
Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”
“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.
“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”
He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”
“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”
“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.
“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”
“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”
Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.
Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?
To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.
Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?
This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.
“You free tomorrow?”
“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”
“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”
Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”
“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.
Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”
“Hold it, I still have a piece–”
“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”
“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.
With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.
“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.
“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”
Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,
“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”
.
.
There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.
The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.
Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.
Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.
Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.
While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.
“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.
“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”
“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”
You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.
“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.
“H… Hold the door!” she pants.
Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.
You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.
She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.
“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”
It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.
You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.
You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.
“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.
With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.
I thought I covered that…
You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.
You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.
You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.
Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”
She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”
You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?
You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.
The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.
“Heya, Katsu–”
“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.
You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.
He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”
“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.
“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.
“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.
“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”
Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”
Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.
“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.
After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”
“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.
“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.
Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”
“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”
“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.
“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.
As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”
You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.
The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.
You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.
“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.
You bite your lower lip. “Well…”
Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”
It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.
In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.
You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.
“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.
“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.
“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”
“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.
A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.
Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.
Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.
“You did well, princess.”
His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.
God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.
Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.
While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.
The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.
“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.
“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”
Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”
“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”
A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.
“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”
Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.
“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.
In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.
Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”
“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.
“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.
He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”
Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.
“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”
At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.
“Bend over.”
Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.
With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.
“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.
Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.
“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”
“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”
At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.
“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”
Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.
“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.
“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.
“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.
“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.
Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.
“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.
The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”
Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.
“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.
“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”
Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.
“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.
“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.
Oh, fuck it.
As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.
You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.
“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.
“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.
By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.
With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.
Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.
“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point
“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”
“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.
Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.
“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”
“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.
Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.
After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.
“Feel sticky…”
“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.
Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”
“Fine. Such a princess…”
“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.
The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”
Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.
“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”
You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”
“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”
“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.
“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.
And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.
“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.
“What’s so funny?!”
“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”
At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.
“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.
The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.
“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.
“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.
And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.
When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.
“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.
You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”
“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.
“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”
.
.
The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.
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copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
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whumptober · 2 years
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Whumptober 2022
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Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2022 Prompt List
No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY
Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"
No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN
Cornered | Caged | Confrontation
No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH
Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled
No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET
Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out
No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS
Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia
No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE
Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall
No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER
Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack
No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING
Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead
No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT
Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm
No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS
Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding
No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”
Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint
No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail
No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS
Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”
No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN
Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.”
No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE
Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain
No. 16 NO WAY OUT
Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”
No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT
Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker
No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE
"Just get it over with." |  Treading Water | "Take my Coat"
No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH
Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling
No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY
Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade
No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS
Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”
No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON
Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction
No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE
Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”
No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE
Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN
Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”
No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND
Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”
No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT
Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion
No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG
Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache
No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…
Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”
No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED
Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”
Alternative Prompts List
No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”
Ringing Ears
Whimpering
Dazed and Confused
Touch Starved
Ambushed
Sensory Overload
Protective
Made to Watch
Quicksand
Adrenaline Crash
Stabbed
Carried to Safety
Crutches
Emergency Blanket
Tears
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask - A link can be found at the end of this post. ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “bee”, you can create something about bees, about yellow and black striped baseball bats or bees on bandaids. It’s up to you.
Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2022 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us, if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes,  but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
Just tag the word, ex. emeto
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2022 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
9K notes · View notes
yanderestarangel · 1 month
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hello! i saw you write for batman n wanted to request. i dont care what version of batman it is-but my idea is being bruce waynes boyfriend (ftm reader), n' hes just so stressed out from being batman and having to keep villains at bay. so reader is basically used as bruce's stress relief! for kinks maybe: size kink, praise or degradation im not picky, rough sex, overstimulating reader, and whatever else fits! thank you-!
TW: Batman ( 2022 ), v!sex, overstimulation, rough sex, face fuck, dom!bruce, mask kink, fingering, degradation, afab anatomy, praise, ftm reader, vulnerable!kink, size!kink, porn plot, hard smut.
A/N: My first Batman request omg, Thank you for asking, I've been wanting to write about this man for a long time, I put my favorite Batman ૮ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ᳝ ° ♡ ˙
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It had been a month since your boyfriend had taken a break from his duty to fight crime in Gotham ── He was too tired, and the stress was noticeable in the way his jaw flexed harshly with each new call from a villain unleashed on the streets. You insisted many times that the batman just rest a little, but he always replied tensely: "it was his obligation."
But it was slowly killing him... And you needed to act soon before he had a nervous breakdown.
So when you saw your boyfriend walk through the door of Wayne Manor still dressed in his black night watchman's attire you greeted him completely naked making Bruce practically choke on his own saliva in surprise ── before any protest came from his lips you told him he could using you as an escape valve, a relief for everything that was accumulating inside him, you saw his blue eyes shine with practically every sweet and worried word that came out of your throat; a mix of love and animal dominance radiated from the man.
"Are you sure? When we started... We won't be able to stop until I speak." Bruce spoke calmly, his gloved hands were already running down and up your body, squeezing your bare ass as he grunted softly as he felt his cock stretch painfully in his pants ── a clear sign of raw need, and when the "yes" coming from you was heard The millionaire wasted no time in pinning you against his larger body and giving you a violent kiss, your tongues fought for control, radiating a heat that you both missed.
He soon broke the kiss when he saw you rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh and leaving a wet trail on his battle suit.
"You want this... You like it, don't you?" He growls softly in his ear before applying enough pressure to your clit for you to scream in pleasure, he let go of that, forcing you to look at him while holding your face.
"Am I turning you on, little boy?" There was an undeniable hunger in Bruce's deep voice as he let go of your face and pulled you away from his thigh, he just lowered his pants enough for you to see his cock spring out already dripping precum from the pink tip.
"You're a shitty little whore, aren't you baby boy? How excited are you for this?" The batman growled softly, roughly pinning you to the nearest solid surface ── you were in a vulnerable position, your ass raised in the air as you felt his thick fingers grab a handful of your hair and his other hand came up against yours moisture opening your labia. He took off his leather glove while his bare fingers went down to your swollen and pulsating clit, watching you tremble and sputter with just his small touches.
"Calm down pretty boy, I've barely started and you're already falling apart? Such a dumb boy for a good dick, aren't you?" He mocked as he continued the rough administrations on your body ── he was treating you like a sex toy handling you like a rag doll easily and you loved every second of it, the taller man was animalistic as he made you submissive to him.
"What beautiful sounds you make, open your legs wider, little slut, come on."
He speaks sharply, grabbing your thighs, thrusting your hips even more towards him ── your breasts hurt against the cold wooden surface of the room but Wayne didn't care, not at that time, he just focused on making you sore enough.
He felt the stress go away every time you begged him to fuck you soon.
"Fuck- you look so hot like this..." Bruce stroked his own cock as he watched you drool and sob from being sore from all his stimulation. With a growl of need, he grabbed you tightly by the waist and pulled you up until your cunt lined up perfectly over his hard tip.
"You're going to take this like a big boy, aren't you?" You gasp as he slides inside you, ── His cock feels so good inside you like your body was custom made for him. He pushed into you, burying himself up to the hilt, causing you both to let out a collective moan.
You could look back and see your boyfriend's face covered by the mask──his lips open with each brutal thrust with the strength of his hips. The sound of wet flesh and lustful sounds filled the empty space of the mansion, you were a needy mess grinding against each other.
"Fuck yes- such a good boy taking my dick like a fucking champ. Holy fuck- Can you really handle me...You're so small and fragile, but you handle my dick so well- A dirty whore is what you are." He took every part of your pleasure and pain, setting an intense pace, he was fucking you like his life depended on it.
Every thrust was deliberate and possessive he was marking you as his with every movement. His hips moved forward with a dominant force, sinking deeper into your velvety heat ── but he wasn't going to cum inside you, not this time.
He came out of your hole in an erotic snap, slapping your ass hard. "On your knees boy, I'm going to cum on that pretty face of yours."
You obeyed quickly, ignoring your own needs to satisfy his desires ── your knees touched the cold floor as you looked up watching Bruce masturbate a few times and spill the hot, sticky liquid all over your face ── he let out a loud moan feeling the knees buckle as he saw you completely painted with his seed, an image he had forgotten what it was like to have, you on your knees facing him with your breasts bouncing with every breath your pussy throbbed from the denial of an orgasm and his thick cum ran down your pretty face.
It was like his personal paradise was finally at peace again; One of his hands went to your hair, giving small caresses to the top of your head.
"Good job baby boy. You really are a good boy to me."
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ksantillus · 2 years
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“I wish you hadn’t done that...”
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melon-kiss · 3 months
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I know some of you don't speak Polish and we can't afford to translate 40-min-long chaotic interviews for you and I'm a bit bored (meaning: my brain wants a break from writing but I'm stubborn and I want to finish it TODAY), so I thought I'd give you a bit of a trivia based on interviews with the actors and the crew of 1670:
throughout all the interviews, no one really asked if we're getting season 2. I mean, someone did and the response was: "Well, we know nothing" but nobody really asked if they had any IDEA about what would happen in the next season
I'm not sure about the actors but the creative and directive levels went to a series of lectures on how people lived in Poland in the XVII century
they received a substantial funding, especially considering the directors were complete "no-names"
filming took 3 months, December through February 2022 if I recall
they all lived in an open-air museum in Kolbuszowa; in fact, almost all of the building were already there, they only had to build the house, the barn and the forge
there was no delay in filming, which is apparently rare in the industry but that was because they had a very tight schedule and couldn't afford staying longer in the museum
the last episode was filmed on one day and that was the last day of filming and because of technical issues with cameras working in the inn (the short shot of Maciej serving the pig to the Adamczewskis' table had to be re-done 20 times!), they had to completely rearrange the wedding party scenes, turning them into long shots; the entire labor/dancing scenes were supposed to be shot from 13 (!) different perspectives and be arranged in a "music video fashion"
one of the first episodes (if not THE first episode) to be filmed was episode 7
the script was written with Bartłomiej Topa (Jan Paweł) in mind, however, the actor wasn't really convinced about participating in this project and took his sweet, sweet time to decide on it; same goes to Dobromir Dymecki (Bogdan). Topa says it wasn't because he didn't find it good - it was because he was afraid that the project would be underfunded and therefore fail as projects like that usually don't get the attention they need in Poland
Bartłomiej Topa said he portrayed Jan Paweł as evil and conniving for the first two weeks of being on the set and the first scene they recorded was the one with the "Adamczycha" sign falling down; only after that time, after one scene in particular (don't remember which one, sorry), he finally saw the true nature of his character and changed his approach to the portrayal
surprisingly, Michał Sikorski (father Jakub), unlike Topa, thought of his character as a silly, innocent man and he changed his mind only after seeing the Aniela-Maciej dance scene where he says Love is peaceful, love is kind, love is... unacceptable - he understood he got to play a villain
the actors were FORBIDDEN to improvise; their lines had to be memorised prior to filming
they shot the barrel-cleaning scene (the thing they do before blowing the magnate's son's head up) for 2h because Bartłomiej Topa and Andrzej Kłak (well, he plays Andrzej) couldn't stop laughing; Topa mentions he doesn't even remember how they managed to get it done
all the mud was brought there ON PURPOSE
Kirył Pietruczuk (Maciej) is a debutante when it comes to film, however, he is the only actor in the crew with an acting degree; not only that - he graduated with honors
when asked about this, Michał Sikorski said: "Well, but it doesn't matter, does it? Because, even thought I haven't graduated, I got to play a nobleman and he... well..." (obv that was A JOKE; he is like the sweetest person ever!)
he also said he wrote a "Maciej's journal" during filming and spent a lot of time creating a backstory for his character; he said it was helping with the a-chronical shooting; he read one of the entries out loud in his interview
he jokingly said his favourite episode is the last one because he got to kiss Martyna (Aniela) there
as mentioned before, casting Maciej's role took the longest. They interviewed about 300 candidates and none of them fit. Kirył recalls it was right after he signed a deal with an agency for the first time in his life and he immediately received a call after his first cinema audition and it was 1670, of course! However, he reports that the process was extremely long - he had to go through several stages, each one of them revealing more and more of the script and he wasn't informed it would take that long
The creators said they looked for someone who'd understand the character and his role in the film - as he is the eyes and ears for us, people from XXI century. "He's basically like a viewer of the events, one of us", Kordian Kądziela (director, episodes 5-8) says. It was important he had a good chemistry with Martyna (she was the first and only "Aniela" he had to do short scenes with and the chemistry was immediate) and was able to break the fourth wall properly - he had to have the talent to comment current events with just one look and I personally think he does it perfectly. The actor was also supposed to be "easily likeable by girls"
The first scene they shot together - meaning as Aniela and Maciej - was the dance scene and Kirył says it's his favourite scene in the entire show
Kirył said the scene with the magnate's son was initially very aggressive on his part, however, after speaking to the directors, he decided to tone it down as it was, indeed, not fit for the character to be this angry
they all said, once they got down to it, they had a feeling they were a part of something special
Feel free to add your trivia or correct me if I'm wrong.
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lampmeeting · 8 months
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IT'S ABOUT THAT TIME, Y'ALL!! 👀
What is Kloktober?: An incredibly zazzy event taking place in October where we celebrate all things Metalocalypse. There’s a prompt for every day of the month to interpret as you see fit! Draw, write, paint, cosplay, make memes - all forms of participation are welcome!
How do I participate?: Make your totally brutal creation inspired by the day’s prompt and post it using the tag #kloktober2023 - it’s just that simple! Post it here, post it to Instagram, post it to AO3, post it to Twitter, wherever, go nuts!
Am I allowed to–YUP, ANYTHING GOES! There are no wrong answers during Kloktober! :D Your interpretation of a prompt is VALID. If you only want to do a few days, that’s VALID. Don’t burn yourself out, this is for fun! (Even I won’t be doing all of them, so don’t stress!)
What if I haven't seen the movie yet? No worries! If there's a prompt that doesn't suit you, please feel free to reach back in time and choose a prompt from a previous year's Kloktober (2022, 2021, or 2020). And as always, if you have any questions about anything, hit me up!
(plain-text list of prompts below the cut)
1. favorite character or OTP
2. favorite AOTD scene
3. Mordhaus Costume Ball
4. your fave headcanon
5. Abigail Appreciation Day
6. comedy or tragedy
7. missing AOTD scene?
8. mermaids or monsters
9. inspired by Dethalbum IV
10. came back Different
11. horror movie crossover
12. your favorite villain
13. nightmares or visions
14. use a fall food or drink
15. Dethklok on vacation
16. In Memorium: honor the fallen
17. give someone a brand new look
18. inspired by a metal song
19. inspired by an UN-metal song
20. original character or self-insert
21. Dethstaff gets a day off
22. sea horror or cosmic horror
23. use a character new to you
24. novel or video game crossover
25. campfire or left in the cold
26. pick a tarot card for inspiration
27. old fears or new understandings
28. use Brendon Small in some way
29. so what happens after AOTD?
30. HALLOWEEN!!!
31. YOUR choice!
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heli-writes · 1 month
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Between then and now
Part 1: The return
Pairing: Toshinori Yagi x Reader
Summary: When a whirlwind affair between you and All Might was found out by his manager, it was made sure that no one ever knew about you or your relationship with All Might. Even twenty years later, Toshinori Yagi still thinks of you. His retirement leaves him lonely in a cold city apartment and he wonders what could’ve been. Maybe it’s time to rekindle? But is that what you want?
Disclaimers: -
Note: I’ve been writing this piece since October 2022. So glad, it’s finally done!
Heli’s Masterlist
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
Twenty years ago, Japan.
You giggle when Toshinori pulls you into him. He’s only wearing sweatpants and his skin feels hot under yours. 
“C’mon y/n, we still have a few minutes, right?” Toshinori whines. 
“No, the driver will be here soon. You still have to get dressed and do your hair!” You run your hand through his messy hair. 
“Well, and who’s fault is it that my hair is all a mess?” he grins. 
“Besides the point.”, you shrug, “The actual point is that I am responsible for getting you to your event on time.” 
He sighs. “All right, all right.” 
Toshinori bends over to pick up his shirt from the ground. “Just so you know, Mr. Kanno can be really glad to have you. Without you, neither of us would have any overview about where I have to be when.” he smiles.
“Just don’t let him find out that half of the time you are late because of me.” you sheepishly reply.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
“Yagi-san, seriously! How could you possibly think this was a good idea at this crucial time of your career!”. Naoto Kannos voice boomed through the empty office.
“Kanno-san, you need to calm down. It’s not that bad. It’s not like y/n can’t be trusted.” Toshinori said slightly embarrassed.
“I would never tell anything to the press.” you said quietly.
“Y/n, this is not about whether you talk to the press or not. Eventually, they will find out. Are you even aware of what this could mean for All Might? For yourself?” Kanno massages his temple.
“Look,” Toshinori said, “We’re careful. And there is no reason why a hero cannot be in a relationship.”
“There are a thousand reasons why a hero shouldn’t be in a relationship, Yagi-san! You of all people should be aware of that.” Kanno states shaking his head.
Your heart beats loudly and leaves an aching pain in your chest. Toshinori presses your hand.
“I’m sorry you two. But you know this has to end.”
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
After a night-long fight and seemingly endless discussions, it eventually did end. You went overseas to work for the American branch of All Might’s hero agency and he stayed behind to fight villains in Japan. When he and Kanno brought you to the airport, you didn’t know that things would get to be a lot worse in America than you anticipated standing at the boarding gate to fly into the unknown.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The present day, Japan.
He knew the end of his career was coming. He knew for a good few years. He knew when he chose young Midoriya as his successor and he knew during his final fight with All for One. What he didn’t know then, was how much his life changed after his retirement. Sure, he still has his position at UA. He still has to train young Midoriya. 
However, his days are significantly slower and quieter. Nothing could have prepared him for those empty nights in his empty apartment. He has no hobbies, no friends and no family to fill his time. He never had time or the head space to cultivate either of these things. And now all that waits for him at the end of the day is his cold apartment in a city that’s always bright. His home, however, isn’t that bright.
These days, he often finds himself thinking of you. It’s been such a long time. What were you up to? He knows you left his agency in America only a couple of months after you started there. He can’t begrudge you for that. After all, that’s what Kanno wanted for both of you: a clean cut. Where did you go after that? Did you find a fulfilling job? Did you meet someone special? Did you get married and have kids of your own? Are you happy?
He really hopes so. He really hopes that you are happy. The last time he saw you, you weren’t. You were holding back tears. Your broken heart is written all over your face. If things only were different back then, maybe you would be lying right next to him right now.
What a silly thought. He truly has become a pitiful old man. Sick and lonely. So far from what he used to be.
Laying in his bed, he stares at the dark ceiling. He turns over and grabs his phone. He opens social media and types in your name into the search bar. No results. He turns off his phone discouragedly. This was a stupid idea anyway.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The present day, America.
“When do we have to be at the airport again, Mom?”
“Jesus, Takeo, you are an adult. How can you still rely on your mother to be punctual?” you sigh, dragging your suitcase down the stairs.
Your son walks around the corner and gives you a lopsided grin. “Hey, you have to be at the airport too, you know!” 
Takeo takes your suitcase and lifts it above his head as if it weighs nothing.
You sigh. “Stop that. Put it down. I feel like I shouldn’t have signed up for this.”
“Hey, this was your decision. No one asked you to follow me overseas! I certainly can imagine something better than your mother following you around.” your son pouts while putting your suitcase close by the door.
“I am not following you around! I always wanted to return to Japan eventually. Just never had a good reason. And what better reason do I have than you?” you mumble embarrassed.
“It’s ok, mom. I didn’t mean it like that.” He nudges you. “We’ll be living in different cities anyway. Far enough apart, so I can my freshman year at university in peace.”
You give him a suspicious side-eye. “And how exactly do you plan to enjoy your first year? Studying I hope.”
You pull your jacket from a nearby chair and start to put it on. Your son is already halfway through the doof when you hear him say: “Geez, mom, let me live a little.”
You hear a car door open and close outside. Your heart does that thing again. When it pulls itself together leaving behind a small ache. You take a look around the almost empty house. It will be the last time you see it. The new owners are moving in next week and you will have left the country by then. It’s strange. You choose to leave this place so that you can return to your home country. And yet, it makes you feel awfully melancholic. There are so many memories connected to this place. Most of your adult life. Your son’s childhood.
“Are you ready?” your son asks behind you.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” you say.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The weather is cold and rainy when you land in Tokyo. You get your son settled into his student accommodation. After that, you take the train to Musutafu. Your family lives in Musutafu. While you don’t have any contact with them anymore, the place holds a dear place in your heart. You always knew that that was the place where you wanted to grow old and find your final rest. 
With All Might retiring, you finally felt safe enough to return home. Your new home is a small apartment on the third floor. You’re glad it came with furniture so that you had no heavy lifting to do. Your other belongings arrived a week ago. The landlord was kind enough to let the delivery crew put it in the apartment. 
It’s almost midnight when you arrive at the place that will be your home from now on. 
After opening the door, you turn on the light in the hallway. You close the door and walk into the living room. In the middle of the room, several boxes are stacked on top of each other. All my life in just a couple of boxes, you think. 
You leave your suitcase standing behind you and open the box closest to you. Kitchen utensils. You open a few more boxes until you find what you’ve been looking for. You pull out a framed picture of your son and you on his first day of kindergarten. Carefully, you wipe over the picture. Then you put it on the windowsill at the right side of the room. Contently, you look at the mess that’s in your living room. 
I’ll take care of the rest tomorrow, you think and you pull your suitcase behind you into the bedroom.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*
It’s your first real day back in Japan. Before you tackle the unpacked boxes that are stacked in your apartment, you are in desperate need of breakfast and coffee. Although breakfast is relative since the long flight and time difference made you sleep well into the early afternoon. After a quick shower and some fresh clothes, you set out to find the nearest grocery shop.
Your apartment is in a different part of the city than you grew up in. It’s a safety measure really. You don’t want to run into family while out and about. It would be awkward for all parties involved. Still, you feel anxious when you set foot in front of your apartment. It feels as if you’re being watched. As if someone would jump at you around the next corner and yell: “Hey, aren’t you the one that got pregnant out of wedlock?”.
It’s silly, you know that. Most people in this city probably have forgotten you, those who don’t either won’t recognize you anymore or don’t want to recognize you anymore.
Nevertheless, this place brings back memories you’ve tried to forget for a long time.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*
Twenty years ago, America.
“Pregnant? pregnant?”, your mother’s voice booms through the speaker of your phone. “Who’s pregnant?”, your bother asks in the background. “Yuto, get out of the kitchen. And tell your father he needs to come in here immediately”, your mother yells at him. She sounds shrill and on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
“Y/n tell me that this is not true!”, your mother yells into the phone again. You massage your temples. This was going just as you thought it would. “Mom, it’s true. I’m pregnant.”, you tell her. 
You can hear shuffling at the other end of the line. “Are you sure? Or are you just late? You know, the women in our family have very irregular cycles.”, your mother rambles. “Mom, I’m sure. I’ve been to the doctor already. They did blood work. I’m most definitely pregnant.”, you tell her.
You know that you’ve been pregnant for a couple of weeks already. When your period was late after a month in America, you did a test from the drugstore. When it came back positive, you went into panic mode. You ignored the problem for another week or two in hopes that it’s a false alarm and that your period eventually does start. When it didn’t, you had to face reality and make a doctor’s appointment. 
Now the first trimester is almost over and you start showing. You put off telling your family for a while now but you can’t hide it forever.
“But y/n... how could this happen?”, your mother asks desperately. “Well, I’m sure you have an idea of how this can happen.”, you answer dryly. You can hear your mother take a sharp breath. Somewhere in the background, a door opens. “Give me a moment.”, your mother mumbles. For a few minutes, you hear quiet talking in the background. Someone slams something onto a table or another surface.
“Y/n, this is serious”. Your father must’ve picked up the phone. “How far along are you?”, he asks. “I’m in the 14th week.”, you tell him matter-of-factly. “That’s too late.”, you hear your mother say closely to the phone. She must be pressing her ear onto the other side of it.
You feel anger rising in your stomach. “Too late for what, mom?”, you challenge her. You know exactly what she means. “To get rid of it.”, your father says irritatedly. “I’m not going to get rid of my child.”, you tell him. You’re not surprised your parents would propose this. Nevertheless, it makes you angry.
“Alright, then when’s the wedding?”. Your father sounds calm but challenging as well. “There will be no wedding.”, you reply coldly. You hear your mother sob in the background. Your father grinds his teeth.
There’s more shuffling. Your mother must’ve ripped the phone out of your father’s grip. “But who, y/n? Who is the father? He must take responsibility for this!”, your mother asks. You can practically hear the tears in her voice. “There is no father.”, you tell her. “Of course, there is a father!”, your father booms. “Or are you Virgin Mary?”
You almost laugh at that. To be the Virgin Mary would be easier than the situation you’re in. Of course, there is a father but it’s not like cou can talk about him. “The father isn’t in the picture. He doesn’t want anything to do with this.”, you say. It hurts saying these words. 
“Goddamit!”, your father swears. It makes you flinch. Your father never swears. He’s too sophisticated for that. Your mother wails in the background. “At least he could pay child support.”, he says. “I don’t need his money.”, you explain.
“Oh no, I think you will.”, your father says angrily, “Because we won’t be paying for your bastard child”. You feel tears pricking in your eyes. You don’t want their money. You make good money on your own. What you do want is their support.
“I knew it was a bad idea when you said you’d be going to America! I told you to quit when they transferred you there! You could’ve come work for me and your brother and you wouldn’t be in this situation!”, he scolds. “But no! It’s always been like this! We gave you everything! We paid for your education at one of the top universities in the country. With that degree, you could’ve worked for any company! You could’ve joined the family business and worked for your brother. But no, you chose to work for that All Might. Y/n, I knew that would be your downfall!”, he continues not giving you a chance to say something.
You grind your teeth and stop listening. What your father says is true. You could’ve gotten literally any job you wanted. If it weren’t for your degree, it would’ve been for the connections of your father. And of course, they wanted you to work for the family. Keep you close, keep you under their control. It makes you sick. The whole reason why you started working for All Might’s hero agency was to get some independence. Make your own decisions.
“... and now you got knocked up by some foreigner! What a disgrace! How are we supposed to explain this to our business partners? Do you comprehend what this means for the family?”, your father rambles.
Ah of course, what would it mean for the family? That’s the only thing that matters. Hot tears stream down your cheeks. You feel a big lump in your throat. One that you can’t swallow down.
“... you hear that, y/n? What do you think are we supposed to do now?”, your father yells into the phone.
“Nothing.”, you manage to reply, “You do nothing. You tell them your daughter took a job in America and decided to stay there.”
“Damn right, that's what you’ll do! You won’t set foot into our neighborhood with that brat of yours.”, your father bites back. Anger and determination start to settle in your stomach. It makes the lump in your throat melt away. 
“Don’t worry, dad. I won’t. I will do as I said. I’ll stay here and I won’t return to Japan. There’s nothing and nobody left for me there anyway.”, you say and slam the phone down.
That’s the last time you ever spoke to your father. Your mother spoke to you a couple of times afterward. You’ve tried talking to her but she was unreasonable. After she gave up the idea of abortion, she tried talking you into adoption. Giving birth in America, giving the baby away and then returning home to Japan into the lap of the family. You refused. Despite everything, you loved that baby growing inside of you. Eventually, you stopped picking up the phone when she called. Your brother didn’t even try to talk to you. The reason for that you don’t know.
When your son was born, you sent them a card and a picture. In return, they sent you papers of disinheritance.
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[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
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paulrobinsonshotel · 8 months
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I love RTD's writing, and it was his era that made me fall in love with the show as a kid. When it was announced he was coming back, my reaction was nothing short of ecstasy.
When the rumours began to swirl that we'd be getting a Tennant-centric special with the Doctor regenerating BACK into him, I was very much "please no", but also thinking "surely, RTD wouldn't actually do this. There's NO WAY he'd actually do this".
Then Ncuti Gatwa was announced, amazing, wonderful. He'll be fantastic, no doubt about it.
Then we got the Tennant and Tate 60th announcement. At that point, the cracks began to show. Yes, my favourite companion and one of my favourite Doctors. I was excited, but I was waiting for more. We've already seen David Tennant's Doctor and Donna Noble written by Russell T Davies, and it was great. But for an anniversary special, the things that bring different eras of the show together in celebration of its history... pretty underwhelming.
Then the thing I was dreading most, the Doctor regenerating back into Tennant - something that had been the refuge of obsessives making badly edited fan videos from 2010 onwards - actually happened. And not only that, but he regenerated straight out of Whittaker's outfit into a Tennant-esque one. Ostensibly because RTD didn't want the image of Tennant in Whittaker's outfit to be used to whip up anti-drag or transphobic hate. Despite the fact that 1) Whittaker went out of her way to make her outfit gender neutral, so that all fans would be able to dress up as her Doctor and feel included and 2) surely it's more important to broadcast the message that anyone of any gender can wear any clothes they want, and there's nothing wrong with it?
The initial Tennant/Tate announcement was in May 2022. My initial dissatisfaction was met with responses like "The episodes are ages away, just wait and see". We're fifteen months on, and no further returning characters have been announced. As far as we know, these specials will still be primarily focused on Tennant, Tate and Donna's supporting cast (that said, the one thing in all this I'm happy about is seeing Bernard Cribbins again).
Of course, that doesn't mean there's been no announcements about the episodes at all. Segun Akinola's decided to leave, so we're getting a new composer. That's exciting, I wonder who it'll be? Oh, brilliant, it's Murray Gold. Again. In RTD's own words, "is anyone surprised?". Surprised? No. But fair to say my enthusiasm went from very low to absolute zero.
Gold is great as what he does, but we just had Akinola, an incredibly skilled composer who poured his heart and soul into the show, but was never given a chance by a chunk of the fandom because he tried something different to Gold or just because they didn't like the Chibnall era as a whole. So RTD could've brought in some new talent, with a completely fresh take, but instead chose to bring back yet another person from his era, who did 10 seasons on the show, and the one person the fandom needs to move the fuck on from the most.
So that's a special meant to celebrate 60 years of the show, but specifically focused on one era of it? Coincidentally, the era of the guy writing it?
And for those who dismiss any criticism of this being RTD centric with "But Beep the Meep/The Toymaker!!!", ask yourselves this: If Chibnall stayed on and did the 60th as nothing but a Thirteen and Yaz story, but with Beep/Toymaker, or if Moffat come back and done the same with his characters, would there be anything other than across the board outrage? Classic villains do not an anniversary special make, since we've had them in every season since the revival.
I'm sure the episodes will be genuinely good, and I'll certainly be watching. Any DW is better than no DW, but of all the things they could've done for an anniversary special, this is practically an insult to the show's history.
I'll be patiently waiting for Ncuti Gatwa's era, which looks genuinely new and exciting.
Rant over.
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