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yanderenightmare · 4 years

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HEADCANNONS

KINKS & FETISHES part two

goodiebage WARNINGS: yandere, abuse, noncon/dubcon, arson, threats, Stockholm Syndrome, mind control, narcissism, sadism, slavery, torture

PART ONE

YANDERE ! KATSUKI BAKUGO - KACHAN POWERPLAY

It’s been said before and it will continue to be preached until the end of time: Katsuki is a full-blown narcissist, and he loves making his dominance excruciatingly clear. He rarely uses any form of bondage, enjoying being the sole reason his darling stays in her place. Hand around her throat, squeezing that weak windpipe, forcing those precious sweet squeaks from her throat, feeling them simmer against his palm. Capturing her tiny delicate wrists between his fingers, squishing until bones pop and she swears in spluttering whines that he’s snapped and broken something. His knee digging into the doughy flesh of her thigh, causing sharp tickling pain to shoot straight through her flesh, all in an exaggerated effort at keeping her beneath him.

He’ll be degrading, especially in a suggestive way. His entire bone-crushing weight pressing down into her, constricting and controlling what air gets to pass down to her lungs, while he knowingly asks her how good it feels when she begins to clamp down around the girth of his cock, feeling her warm wet walls convulse and spasm each time he pumps his sopping swollen tip into the spongey feel of her cervix. Teasing, taunting and mocking words flying along with spit through his grit teeth onto her face, as the tab of his thumb rubs tight circles onto the bead of her clit. Anything resembling self-control can be written off as a cruel joke, when they both know her entire composure is at his mercy. Reduced to simply stimuli and response at his fingers, her reactions on his beck and call.

YANDERE ! DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA BEGGING KINK

He wants to see her kneel, he wants to see her crawl, he wants to hold that perfect little face between his palms and make her shiver and quake at the feel of his warming hands, threatening to mar her soft and supple skin up until it’s nothing but tough purple leather like him, with no hope of healing. He wants to see her cry, he wants it loud as though her sobs could shatter glass, he wants it ugly as though no one could look at her and call her beautiful except for him. He wants all of it as his studded cockhead pokes at her inside, all the while where he pounds into her ruthlessly and savagely, hearing her feeble broken pleas tremor beneath the palm he’s placed wrapped deadly around her throat, fingers bending and plunging into her delicate neck.

Then he wants to show mercy, he wants to glide his lanky boney fingers through her soft hair, hush and coo at her to quit her sniveling and shaking. He’ll have her on his chest, listening to her mumble out sweet forms of gratitude and other soft-tinted apologies. Her lips admiring his piercings, laying worship on them as though praying at an altar. Finding utter unlocking blissful satisfaction, as though some war has been won, at the fact that she’ll never be able to leave him, because he’s made the idea of leaving him seem like death in her brittle mind, not because he would hunt her down, but because she cannot hope to live without him.

YANDERE ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA FOOT FETISH

Just look at them. So dainty and petite compared to his, so small compared to anything, fitting so perfectly in his hand, soft skin in contrast to his dry toughened and calloused hands. And so very sensitive and ticklish, both beneath the touch of his fingers and teeth and tongue and cock. Pink wriggling toes, curling and crinkling until they cramp as he bottoms-out inside her, just begging for him to bite them while he fucks her harder, unable to go anywhere with her ankles shackled together, the chain pulled over his head and resting at his neck with her precious feet made to hang off his shoulders, only able to pull him closer.

Tomura learned quickly when playing with his darling that a woman’s feet are a woman’s weakness, because as she begs him not to touch her, begs him to stay away, once he wraps his hand around her ankle and drags her back to where he wants her, thigh-high sock slowly being pulled off to reveal her legs and coming off at her pedicured toes, foot enclosed in his strong hands, making her bones pop in a much needed message, she’ll moan in a way parallel with how lude she’ll croak with his fat cock drilling into her.

YANDERE ! SHINSO HITOSHI BONDAGE KINK

Who would not find it cute? A little pussycat all knotted up in a ball of yarn, with no hope of escaping, all trapped and vulnerable and begging for Master’s help. Her fingers dancing in the air, wrists tightly locked together, under full understanding that they’re completely useless under the circumstances, having no purpose except for stroking his cock in those moments he’s come close enough, yet not having the courage to sink her claws into the tender squishy flesh of his length because he has her other delicate bits on full display, all for him to destroy if she is to give him the right motivation, if she gives him an excuse to punish her.

He can play nice if she plays along, if she expresses her gratitude on cue like he’s taught her, if she asks for permission, if she begs enough. Either way, she’s not getting out of his trap. Either way, he’ll have his way, which is all that’s important to him. He knows she’ll enjoy herself whether she wants to or not, he’ll see to it up close and personally. Whispering small commands in her ear when she decides to be difficult, telling her to focus, telling her to forget everything except for him and those hands of his and that tongue of his and those teeth of his and that fat veiny cock of his, playing with her, forcing her to see stars.

YANDERE ! TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS MARKING KINK

It’s a need, it’s a necessity, it’s an instinct more than a desire. He’ll be rigid and manic and swivel-eyed, unable to feel at all at ease or at peace with her skin being unadorned and healed and ridden of his teeth-marks and claw-marks and love-bites. They belong on her just as much as that angel-coated set of wings on her back. His name belongs carved into her chest with the handy use of one of his crimson feathers just as much as that feather belongs in the flock on his own back. They need to be ever present on her body or else he’s risking her forgetting who it is that she belongs too.

She doesn’t really need clothes. Keigo likes her ready for the taking at all times. Expensive clothing articles just go to waste if they fall prey to him having to rip them to shreds when removing them unceremoniously from her body, especially when she’s so adamant on resisting him. Besides, if she’s all covered up in silks and whatnot, how is his need to see himself on her skin expected to be satiated? And, she looks so cute trying and struggling to cover herself up, with only her hands and feathers to use in hiding herself from Keigo’s prying eyes.

YANDERE ! MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU DADDY-KINK

Whether it’s sparked by his need to help and protect his little darling from harm and the dangers of the world, or because his own father abandoned him as a child, he does not give it too much thought, despite his darling often times asking for an explanation when he has her bent over his knee, sharp slaps printed on the dome of her ass while she’s made to beg Daddy for forgiveness, her otherwise perfect milky skin now bruised with ugly purple and blues, further indicating Izuku’s ownership of her. Come to think of it, maybe it’s because the title inspires authority, something of which he demands all responsibility of.

She’s his little girl, his little baby, his little Bunny, in desperate dangerous need of Daddy’s firm hand to teach her right from wrong, to teach her proper manners and proper posture and how to properly bounce up and down the length of his cock. Manners including begging Daddy to let her cum, whereas posture is learned and achieved through lesson after lesson where they train in keeping her ass arched up when her head is buried face-down in the pillow, with Daddy’s cock skewering her from behind, her little ass earning a bright-red slap each time her posture fails, her little ditzy brain unable to take simple directions with all the blood pooling in her brain.

YANDERE ! CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL LINGERIE KINK

She looks so perfect clad in expensive customized lace-roses and patterned mesh. Straps connecting her garner-belt to her thigh-high socks, all decorated with rosery swirls and diamonds and pearls, the golden clasps acting as a thing to admire and a puzzle to solve before he can slide her out of her underwear. Bralette granting minimum support as he wants to see her mounds in their natural perfection, the invisibility of the mesh-fabric leaving little to the imagination with her nipples on full display. Teddies too are such a delicate and exquisite playful attire for him to dress her up in. Intricate and ornate patterns adorning the fabrics both of silk and satin and velvet and cotton and lace, two small buttons positioned at her entrance for easy access.

Way too short skirts to even come close to fulfilling their purpose of hiding her privates. With their fluffy taffeta and tulle propping the skirt up into a wet-dream fairy-tutu costume. Kimonos too are such a sweet soft form of unwrapping a present. Tendrils of ribbon tying into big splendid flamboyant bows all for him to tug and make fall apart to open what glory found inside the packaging. Ruffles adorning the sleeves and every other edge in cutesy doll-like fashion. Colors of pastel pinks and creams in stark contrast to his black suit-pants when he makes her take a seat on his knee.

YANDERE ! TODOROKI SHOTO AFTERCARE KINK

It’s more than a duty, it’s a pleasure as well, something to look forward to, something to cherish. To have her broken bruised sweat-slicked radiant body, shivering from the cold or feverish and delirious from the heat, all fallen into a feeble mess of tired aching limbs, and her so very preciously dumb blissed-out state of mind, with words incoherently mumbled and blubbered and hiccupped out into the air with no true goal inside her fried little head. Her eyes heavy-lidded and pupils opium-wide, unable to focus on anything with the rapturous frenzied-high that has shaken her body ablaze and rendered her all but a febrile mess.

She’s so cute with all her humanity having been broken, leaving her as a wild cotton-eyed bleating little lamb as he places her in the hot-tub, careful to join her so she not drown in her absentminded euphoria. It takes time to come down from the fever, her body involuntarily fallen prey to spasms and convulsions wreaking through to her toes as they crinkle under the pressure, with her voice outing small whimpering sighs and moans. Shoto’s right hand ghosting over those fresh red and blue and purple galaxies adorning her body, cooling the swelling skin down, calming the blood gushing out from popped veins as he whispers sweet soft-spoken comforting nothings into her ear, cooing and hushing at her to let him kiss everything better.

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zevlors-tail · 4 years

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Stained Glass

Pairing: Villain Deku/Izuku X Hero!Reader

Description: Deku wants the reader to join the LOV, however, he has to convince them to do so first. But honestly, it might not be that hard after the Hell they’ve been through, lately. A year can change a lot in a person.

Warnings: Kidnapping, gaslighting, manipulation, emotionally vulnerable reader, emotional abuse, mentions of stalking, pretty sure this is basically yandere but without the violence? and of course, Villain!Deku, but softish. No physical violence or abuse, just a hell of a lot of brainwashing and manipulation, tiny mention of blood at the end.

A/N: I’m a sucker for Villain Izuku, and I wanted to try a few different emotional tropes out. This is half a vent fic via reader, and I needed a place to put all of my feelings. Sorry not sorry lol. I really feel like this is utter garbage. I got really tired towards the end and I might go back and edit and extend the ending later. I don’t really know if I like it, but I wrote it and it’s here, so if one single person enjoys it other than me then I guess I did my job! :)

“They broke you, didn’t they? They shattered you into tiny bits and pieces like glass, and then they had the audacity to ask why you don’t smile anymore. But, don’t worry,” Izuku cooed, “don’t you worry one bit, doll! I’ll put you back together piece by broken piece, until all the shards make a beautiful picture- just like stained glass! You’ll be my masterpiece.”

His words rang in your brain, echoing off the walls and reverberating through your ears as the weight of the situation at hand started to slowly sink in. Here you were, hands tied behind your back and legs tied to the chair underneath you, unable to move and speak despite the fact that there was no gag in your mouth. Maybe it was the shock that kept you from speaking, or maybe, after all this time, you just felt utterly exhausted and ready to give up. You had been here for god only knows how long (you weren’t sure how much time had passed; it could have been two days or two months for all you knew), and you had no idea where you were or how you’d gotten here. The last thing you could remember was patrolling around your city when a lesser known villain had attacked, and you had put up a valiant fight against them until they hit you with a blast of their quirk and knocked you out. You guessed that it might have been the work of Deku that got you here, but you weren’t entirely sure what all had happened after you blacked out.

“That’s all you want, right? For someone to notice you, to pay attention to you when you’re hurting, to hold you and put you back together when you come undone. I can be that person, doll! I can be the one to save you when you’re drowning in yourself!” He grinned a cheshire cat grin, his emerald eyes sparkling hopefully at you. “I promise you, I’d never let anything or anyone hurt you, ever. The others- they never cared, did they? They let you parade around with that terrible fake smile while you were dying on the inside. Kachann and Uraraka, they let you suffer. Todoroki, too. I watched you all; I watched as you desperately tried to reach out to them, and I watched as they blatantly ignored you. I saw the devastated look on your face when you realized no one truly cared about you. But you were wrong, because- well, I care about you! I’ve always cared about you, Y/N! Even while I was away this past year, you’re all I ever thought about. I couldn’t stop thinking about you...about you with me, and about us, together.”

You didn’t want to believe any of it. Sure, you’d been feeling really lonely lately, and yes, you had tried to reach out to the others, but...they were just busy, right? There’s no way they had intentionally ignored you. Right...? “You’re wrong,” you replied, though it was weak and did little to phase the man in front of you. Izuku still held that delusional glint in his eye, and you felt yourself slowly starting to cave, doubts swimming around in your head while an empty feeling gnawed on your heart and settled in your bones. “They’re my friends. They’ll come looking for me, and they’ll find me. ” Even as you spoke, you realized that it was a lie you were telling yourself to feel better. “They care about me.” You weren’t sure that they knew you were missing at all.

“Do they, though?” He cocked his head in question, an apprehensive look washing over his features as he placed a gloved hand under your chin.

“Of course they do!” You couldn’t deny the anxiety bubbling up in your chest. Suddenly it was hard to think straight, and you scrambled to back up your claim. “They-they’ve been there for me a lot-”

“Like when?” he immediately countered, his grip tightening on your jaw.

You had a hard time answering for a while, but there was still a sliver of hope in you as you hastily came up with something. With all the defiance you had left in you, you mustered up the courage to look him straight in the eye before replying, “They were all there when you disappeared and left me, Izuku.”

Dead air hung between the two of you for a moment before his hand slowly slid off your face, his thumb lingering on your jaw momentarily. For a second he glared at you cooly, but as soon as you blinked that delusional smile was back, and along with it, a maniacal laugh that tapered off into sounds of frustration. “How many times do we have to go over this, doll? I told you, everything I did, I did for you! Why can’t you understand that!? I joined the League of Villains so that I could become stronger for you, so that I could properly protect you from things even heroes can’t beat. Every little thing I’ve done has always been for you, Y/N! Kachann, Uraraka, and Todoroki...they’re only trying to stand between us. They never accepted us for who we truly are; me, a villain, and you...Y/N, you’re so special. I love you, all of you. Can you say the same for them? Did they really love every broken piece of you? They were only happy when you smiled. They didn’t really want to listen to your pain, did they? They made you feel like a burden, like you were too much for them. So you kept it inside, didn’t you? You carried all that weight around on your shoulders alone. All that disappointment, all that failure, all that hopelessness...”

And he was right.

Lately, you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders. Not good enough. Failure. Burden. These were things you told yourself on a daily basis. Your ‘friends’ knew you had been a little down and out recently, but it seemed that no one really knew the extent to which the events of this past year had affected you. With each and every passing day, it was getting harder to fake the smiles. As a hero, it was your job to bring hope to people and save them while making sure they still had their faith in the world, but you could barely believe in anything yourself, and you felt like a fraud. How could you have any faith left when the people you loved and trusted the most kept abandoning you? After your boyfriend, Izuku, had gone missing, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You would give your best fake reassuring smile to people all day, and then at home you would fall apart. Wether it was in the bath, the bed, or on the kitchen floor (you had no dining table since you could barely afford essentials at the moment), you would find yourself having break downs and unable to cope with life. You often tried to reach out to your friends, and yet, whenever you dropped hints that something was wrong, whenever you openly tried to talk, it seemed they were too busy and lacked the time, or simply didn’t want to acknowledge you and your problems. You told yourself that this was because they too were coping from the disappearance of their best friend, and that maybe this was their way of dealing with it. But then you started noticing things, like how they would text each other without you while you were all in the same room, and how you suddenly were left out of most events they planned, or how any plans they did make with you were always canceled or had to be rescheduled to another time. Once, Uraraka even left you on read the whole day after failing to meet up for a simple mall trip. You were growing tired of it.

On top of all of that, your home life was not good either. You constantly felt drained from all the negativity you were drowning in, and it took extra energy just to keep in touch with people outside of your small friend group, if you could even call them that anymore. You barely had the energy to do anything other than sleep and watch TV. You hadn’t heard from your parents in ages either, but that was hardly surprising considering that they had kicked you out of their house last year for “being a lazy bum”. The truth of the matter was that hero work as a sidekick did not pay well, especially if you worked for an unpopular agency such as the one you were currently at, and so your parents had decided to force you out of the house so that you could find a “real job”. Now you were working small part time jobs in your spare time just to make rent. And as if you needed the cherry on top, both of your bosses had been smothering you with extra work and responsibilities for the past few moths. Never in your entire life had you felt so overworked, exhausted, and alone.

When Izuku got no response from you, he frowned deeply and leaned back on the balls of his feet, his arms crossed over his chest and his hip cocked out to the side. His sickly praises clearly weren’t working; you must have still had strings attached from your previous way of life before him, before here and now. Well then, he would just have to cut you down and free you from all those entanglements. Soon you’d join him. He’d make you see. But first...first he had to break what was left of you.

“My poor, poor Y/N. I can only imagine what life must be like for you. You must feel so tired after working those long hours at your second job. And you want so desperately to be a rising hero, yet your boss never seems to notice your effort, does he? But he notices every time you make a mistake, counts them all at the end of the day and degrades you for it. You’ll never be enough for him. You’ll never live up to his expectations, and you’ll never be a pro hero. So why are you still pining for validation? Why are you still trying? You’ll never get it from him.”

You looked up at your captor with wide e/c eyes, tears welling up against your will. Never in your life had you thought the person you trusted the most would say those words to you. You felt a crack form in the depths of your soul as you stared at him forlornly, any trace of hope left in you evaporating by the minute. Seeing the devastated look on your face, Izuku just smirked and continued on, tearing your heart out with every syllable that left his lips.

“Look at you. Those bags under your eyes are hideous, doll. They’ve really been overworking you, haven’t they? When was the last time they gave you a break from anything? The last time you had a day off? I bet all you want right now is to curl up into a nice warm bed and sleep for days, maybe even a whole week. Do you even remember what that’s like? After all, you only have that meager sleeping bag at home. It must be so uncomfortable and stuffy.” He moved to stand behind you, his hands grasping firmly on to your shoulders as he kneaded into them. You let out an involuntary shudder at the pleasant sensation; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been touched before now. “There’s so much tension in your shoulders. How do you even work like this?” Just as you were getting used the feeling of his fingers massaging your neck, he tore away and circled back in front of you. “Aren’t you tired of eating noodles from a cup all day? It’s disgusting, really, and unhealthy for you. You’re barely scraping by on rent, and you must feel so lonely in that tiny apartment of yours with no furniture. How much longer are you going to be able to live like that?” He sighed in mock lament as he carried on. “You’re pathetic, weak, a waste of space to everyone. They don’t want you around.”

A hiccup escaped from you at the insults. “I- Please, sto-” you cried, but he cut you off mid plea.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Y/N. It’s not your fault that you’re weak, not at all! You never asked for them to hurt you. All of this is just so unfair, isn’t it? You’ve only ever wanted the best for your friends and family, and you were always there for them. Every time your mother called to rant about her new boyfriend of the week, you were there. Every time your father went off the deep end, you were there. Every time one of your friends was in peril, who jumped in to save them from the haphazard situations they put themselves in? You, doll! It was always you! And this-” he flung his arms into the air to emphasize his point, “this is how they repay you!? By leaving you alone in the hands of a villain? By abandoning you in your time of need? They never cared about you. They only cared about appearances, about their hero ratings and their popularity, about how many fans they could take from you so their own numbers would go up. Uraraka said it herself during our years at UA; she’s only in it for the money! They’re greedy, every last one of them! They left you alone, broke you down, abandoned you when all you needed was someone to be there. How lonely it must have been for you to sit there and sob in an empty apartment, to know no one was listening as you begged for things to end as they were. But I was there, doll; I was listening! I’ve been listening this whole time! From the very beginning, I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. I never really left you; I’ve always been there, watching over you from the shadows, making sure nothing terrible happened to you. So many times I wanted to whisk you away and wrap my arms around you, doll, but there was never a right time. That’s why I had to wait; it’s why it took me a whole year to finally save you from them. But I’m here now, and I promise, Y/N, I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

You were full on sobbing now. He had broken you completely, shredded the last of your hope and faith in your friends and family.

“Oh doll, don’t cry! Don’t cry, my love! I’m here!” You watched through tear clouded eyes as he stooped to your level on one knee and gazed lovingly at you, his hand resting under your chin once again. “I know they always made you feel like you were too much for them, but the fact of the matter is that they were never enough for you. They never deserved a fraction of your time, doll. They never loved you. I’m the only one who could ever truly love you. So join my League of Villains, and rule beside me.”

He spoke with such conviction, as if he knew with absolute certainty that he had you hook, line, and sinker. He watched the gears turn in your head, saw the desperate look in your eyes, and decided to give one final push to ensure you would come to your senses about this.

“Say you’ll join me and be mine, and I’ll make all your problems disappear.” He leaned his face in close to you, his lips barely brushing yours before they lightly dragged across your jaw to your ear. The sensation left little sparks of electricity crackling on your skin as he whispered his promises to you. “You’re barely scraping by now, but I could give you so much more. I could give you a place to stay, a roof over your head with no strings attached. I would gladly share my living space with you for free, Y/N. I’ll even pay you if you that’s what you want, and you won’t have to lift a single finger. How does that sound? You wouldn’t have to worry about rent anymore, which means no more sleepless nights on thirds at the local grocery just to make extra money, either.”

You sniffed and blinked back more tears as you considered the idea of not having to drag yourself out of bed every damn morning and evening just to survive the week, of not having to constantly worry about what your boss was going to say or do to you about the declining quality of your work (of course it was only getting worse because of how utterly exhausted you felt all the time).

“Oh doll, you look so tired and worn out... I could fix that too, if you’d let me. I’ll share my bed with you if you’re ever feeling weary. It’s comfortable and spacious enough for us both, and I promise not to disturb you while you rest. It’ll be better than that thin sleeping bag you’ve been using; trust me, your shoulders will thank you, my dear.” One of his hands ghosted down the back of your neck as if to remind you of his touch earlier.

“...Really?” you quietly asked, and he immediately pulled away from your ear to grin at your response.

“Of course, doll! And, if you’re ever feeling lonely-” He gently embraced you in his warmth, his face nestling in your hair and arms wrapped securely around your smaller frame. “I’ll wrap my arms around you, and I’ll hold you, and I’ll listen to you if that’s what you want. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Y/N. It’s okay now, because I’m here.”

You felt more tears spring to your eyes as a new feeling blossomed in your chest. You weren’t entirely sure what it was, but you didn’t really care, either. All you knew was that you no longer had to suffer through the mess of your life. Even if he was a villain, and even if you were broken, the two of you shared twisted love together, and that was enough for you. You were just happy to have him back, to feel some reprieve from the hell that was your life this past year.

“Please don’t leave me!” you begged, your voice hoarse and eyes red from crying so much. “Please stay...”

“Shhh, it’s alright, doll. I promise I will never leave your side, ever. I’ll always love you. Just say you’re mine. Tell me you’ll join me and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’ll take you out on dates, I’ll love you more than anyone ever could, I’ll feed you and hold you and take care of you! You’ll see! Just say you’re mine!”

“I’m yours! I’ll join you, please just don’t leave me-!” You wanted so desperately to reach your arms up around him and cling to him for dear life. You were so terrified the only person left in your life would leave, and you didn’t think you could handle it if he did. Izuku, sensing your distress, gave a guttural laugh and pulled away from you, leaving you a whimpering, shaking mess still tied to the chair.

“I knew you would say yes! Oh, doll, I promise to take such good, good care of you! I swear it on my life!” He suddenly produced a knife from somewhere in his coat, the metal already stained with blood and rusting around the edges. You felt a surge of fear rush through you as he slunk behind you with the knife raised, but to your relief, you felt him cut through the binds around your sore wrists. “Easy, doll. I’m just giving you your freedom back.”

As soon as your hands and legs were free, you nearly fell over trying to bolt up from the chair to get to Izuku. You were about to throw yourself on him when he surprised you by picking you up bridal style, and suddenly you were being carried away from it all, away from your troubles, away from all the terrible memories of abandonment and loneliness.

“Izuku? Where are we going?”

“Home, my love. We’re going home.”

#ending sucks #yikes #idk what this is honestly #not my best work for sure #mostly this is practice i think #izuku x reader #villain deku x reader #villain deku #villain izuku #tw: emotional abuse #tw: gaslighting #tw: manipulation #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #izuku #villain izuku x reader #i might fix the ending on this later

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ua-monoma · 4 years

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.11.15.

It's a villain's quirk.

That's what Shinsou had always told him.

Monoma had always thought it the greatest tragedy. One of the most incredible quirks he's ever seen, squandered and dashed to nothing after an unimaginative society's constant and tortuous goading. The potential it has, to use a certain mentor's favorite word. The sheer ability to do so, so much good. In his eyes, Shinsou has always held back, daring not to cross too far into that darker territory, despite all the power he could have gained doing so. He'd always hated that.

In fact, he's always wished he'd had a quirk exactly like that. It'd be perfect. It would suit him, even with all the baggage and pain attached. Perhaps especially so. Honestly, at some point in his life, he'd truly thought it worse to be called powerless than to be called a villain.

Maybe he still thinks the same way.

Kaitou has his quirk now. He holds it in his hands, in delicate tufts of lavender hair. Unlike Shinsou, he's long since forgotten the fear of losing himself, to the dark, to the power, to anything. He's already lost. Already broken. What's left for the world to take from him? Not much.

But what is left for the world to give? Everything.

A smile trembles its way onto his lips. He bites it hard, forcing his expression into submission as he waits for him to arrive.

@v-deku

That entire day, MIDORIYA IZUKU had felt... off. He wasn't sure why- one of those days where a dark cloud clung to his mind that he couldn't escape. Maybe it was the night he spent with Hawks the other night- a terrible night it was.

But, these days... when are they not terrible? Ha ha.

Deku always holds an air of calmness despite his circumstances- when he sees Monoma, standing there silently, his first reaction is what he always gives- a smile. He puts his hands behind his back, eyeing him up and down as he speaks, trying to read him.

"...Monoma neito.

You look like you've been waiting for me."

Kaitou hates him.

Just the sight of him lances through him, old panic and terror, rotting screams slamming gnawled fists against his ribcage. The air decays with Deku's aura, reaching for him with ruining claws. He feels sick. He's so tired of being scared. Of being the victim.

Of not fighting back.

He tilts his head to the side slowly, considering the words. He hates hearing his name. It doesn't belong to him anymore, it doesn't fit right, it - itches. Yes. Itches and electrocutes, all at the same time. Slowly, he mirrors Deku's stance, his own loaded hands placed gently behind his back.

"And if I was?" he asks softly, giving the purple strands a squeeze. "You wouldn't mind that, would you?"

Deku considers the boy in front of him something special. He always has. And laying his eyes on him now, nothing has changed. He could feel the sinister energy radiating off of the other- the malice, the hatred. Every instinct in his body tells him to run- that he's in over his head. For real this time.

And yet.

He steps forward, breathing out a sigh before smiling.

"Of course not... you know how much pleasure your presence brings me.. love."

Kaitou scoffs, chuckling to himself, feeling something distant splintering off and away.

"Love," he repeats quietly.

And then he pulls him under.

He can already feel the power of Hitoshi's quirk as it surges forward and takes control. Floodgates seem to slam open and into place, his own will floods forward, strong enough to sweep away any individual thought Deku could have possibly had. He seizes his mind carefully, curling around it, savoring every second of the sight of his eyes going dead.

It's so much stronger than he's used to. Kaitou bites away another smile.

"Show me your hands," he murmurs to him, a simple order, just to test.

Love is the last thing he hears before his mind goes numb. Any thoughts, wants, or needs, are instantly forgotten. His vision blurs and crackles, everything darkening except for him.

His god.

Mouth falls open softly and with a blank expression and no semblance of emotion, he holds out his hands.

"..."

A grin splits across his face. Monoma reels a little, a giggle slowly and suddenly bubbling up.

"Ah... haha."

He touches his head, fingers digging to where he could still feel the whirrling buzz of a drill at night. "Hah... oh wow..."

His breath is coming out fast, hitching like he's winded, excited. There's this ecstasy, just from watching him, mixed with relief and sickness and something else. Something he's never quite indulged in, something he's chosen to never name until now.

"Wow..." Kaitou whispers with a small nod of his head. "I could kill you."

He giggles again, closer and closer to a manic peak. "I could - I... I've thought about doing that every night since it happens. I'm sure you know that. That's what you've always wanted, right? Hehe... I could do anything to you and you'll love it, isn't that right?"

He's rambling. Stalling perhaps. Savoring it. He laughs again, just a little, quiet little snickers that he curls into himself for, holding himself together before they shake him apart.

And then he raises his eyes, focusing on him again. "Break all the fingers on one hand," he demands suddenly.

As he gives the order, his mind buzzes and pulsates like a beehive. All he sees are words- they pop up like a flashy billboard in vegas. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. They're insanely annoying, and they just keep popping up, one after the other. The only way to get rid of them is to do it. And so silently he goes, one by one. He grabs his thumb with his other hand, and - SNAP. A noise comes out of his mouth, but it sounds muffled. He holds his index finger, bends it back until... SNAP. He yelps, louder this time, like a frightened animal- as if being caught off guard by the action. He bends his middle finger back until- SNAP. Tears start to run down his eyes, his face still devoid of emotion. Ring finger. SNAP. He is breathing heavily now, hunched over, as if he just went on a long run. And finally- the pinky finger is the easiest. He bends it back until- SNAP. His knees grow weak and buckle, but he is still standing. Tears pour down his face and his left hand hangs there- limp and useless. ...And he waits for his next order.

Kaitou gasps at the first snap. "Oh-"

And the next and the next and the next following it, Kaitou's arms wrapping around himself tighter and tighter, trying to keep the laughter in but he can't. As tears start to flow down Deku's face, he starts to giggle again, feeling near blinded by a rapturous light that overtakes his mind. It's nothing like the martyrous anguish he's been living in. It isn't complicated like the twisting and violent masochism that coiled and clutched to his past victimhood like thorny vines. It feels so good he can't take it, overwhelmed, not understanding why he's ever tried to stray from this- this perfect feeling. That something else.

It's sadism. Pure. Simple. Addicting.

"Oh... wow..." he sighs out as Deku finishes. "Wonderfully done... Hey, are you awake in there?" he suddenly and excitedly asks. "I hope you are~... 'I need you to feel all of this...' Do you remember telling me that?"

He rocks on his heels, too elated to stand still. "What else did you say? 'No matter how much you beg'... Why don't you do that for me, mm?" His eyes flash with a sudden glee. "It's horrific, isn't it? Watching yourself do all these things? I want you to feel that horror... Yes. Beg to be free while you make yourself bleed. Ahaha... Oh! Use this!"

He snatches a blade from a nearby table, something almost harmless, a small pair of scissors that he shoves right into his broken hand. "Don't make it fatal yet, I want this to last..."

He is awake in there, but he wishes with everything he has that he wasn't. He stares, wide-eyed, at the blond as he laughs.

It was like... Looking into a mirror.

Something rests at the corner of his consciousness, a little pocket where all his emotions are forced into with nowhere else to go while he's in this state. They read, not necessarily in order; Fear. Anger. Shame. Guilt. Despair.

But fear- that's the biggest. The loudest.

As he shoves the scissors into his broken hand, on instinct he tries to curl his fingers around them, only to let out a strangled gasp, whimpering and crumbling to his knees. Slowly, his hand shaking, as if trying- somewhere in there, to fight it so desperately, he takes the scissors with his nonbroken hand.

His mind crackles and fizzes, and like a cage being opened just a crack- one emotion is allowed freedom from that pocket in the back of his mind- fear.

"P...please...."

His hand trembling, he begins to swipe at his left arm, thin lines of red forming along them in a nice even pattern.

"Pleas..e... let .. me go."

His voice comes out strangled- like a robot with low battery. His head is bowed, entire frame trembling as he works his way up his arm until theres simply no more room left on his arm to cut. Tears are cascading from his face now, snot bubbling from his nose as he sniffs, gasps, and cries from the pain.

"Pl...please... please....please....."

Inside, the buzzing gets louder. More intense. His chained up consciousness bangs and rattles at the bars of his cage, trying desperately to escape.

"Please. Please. Pl - e ase. Let me go. P. l . e a s ...e..."

"No."

Kaitou sneers with the rejection, and then suddenly he's surging forward, leg lifting up, heel suddenly coming down hard, right into his face. He kicks Deku's down from his knees, onto the ground, smashing his shoe down and grinding his head harder into the floor as he pins him there, and then he lifts his leg again and brings it down, again and again as he shouts.

"No. No, no, no! No, I won't! I won't! Hahaha!"

He suddenly places his foot right on his neck, delicately perching right against his throat as he just barely presses down, pausing as he hopes to continue to hear that same stream of strangled, rattling pleas. Humming in satisfaction, he tilts his head again, placing a hand to his chin as he suddenly thinks.

"My... Hitoshi-kun's quirk is impressive, isn't it?" he mutters with distant praise for his friend. "You must be in agony right now and this control over you hasn't broken for even a second! He mentioned cutting your tongue out once before, didn't he? What a tempting thought..."

He tilts his head over in the other direction, twirling a lock of his growing hair around his finger. The action seems to spark his next thought, as he pauses with a light gasp then opens his fingers, remembering the clump of hair he still holds.

"... Hmmm..."

His eyes drift over to his other hand, which he opens as well, revealing another clump, near identical to the first.

"... I wonder..."

He smiles dazedly. "There's so much value in utilizing different samples... Every alternate is different, aren't they, Midoriya-kun...? Some of them have worked so hard to become powerful..." The true Izuku flashes to mind, a bitter tinge in the memory of inky tendrils suddenly destroying everything they can reach.

"You know..." he murmurs, voice lowering. "Your quirk has always disappointed me." He lifts a hand, showing him what he holds. "Would you like to see what this other one is like? Tell me, what are you thinking right now... Should I?"

Deku's vision goes white as he's knocked back. Mangled gasps try to free their way from his ribcage as he sputters blood- as he's SLAMMED by a foot. His consciousness rocks back and forth, comes to only to be slammed back again and again and again and again and again.

By the time it's over, his nose is broken, and he's missing his front tooth. He sobs and cries, and as Monoma brings his foot down over his throat, they bubble in and out pathetically, voice raspy and barely audible. "P...l...e ....a...se....."

Inside, a memory plays- like a tape recording; old, dusty, forgotten. Two voices- one is his own; much younger. And the other- his late mother. He can't see her face ; it's as if it was blurred out- censored.

"They're bad people, Izuku!" "They're not! They're just trying to fight for equality! Ever since I was little... I've been treated like g a a a a ar bage. Quirks are - st upid." As the memory plays, it's harder and harder to hold onto, almost as if it's being ripped from him. It sounds like - a broken record. And it skips ahead. He still can't see her face, but he can tell she's on the floor, sobbing. "P _ lease don' --t d o.. this . Yo u can... Y_ou c _a _n .. s t i ll go bac-"

Back in the world, Deku chokes on blood, and sobs, his eyes blank, but still full of fear. When he opens his mouth to speak, his voice is broken and weak.

"I a m thin...king... abo...ut... n..no... " He tries to swallow another sob, before he opens his mouth again.

" P _le.ase.. don't d..do ..th..is.. Y ou can- you c..c can still . go > bac > & k&.... pl ease . please. please. p le ase. p pl ease. p p pl p p pl e ase.

PLEASE!"

It's a little too easy, which almost takes the fun out of it. He switches Hitoshi's quirk off, releasing its hold on Deku and freeing it from the trap of his own body, right as Deku's bloody lips part to speak. Then he grins with pleasure, pressing the second sample to his smile in a firm kiss, clutching onto this new and warped quirk that he drags into himself, holding onto it with unabashed greed.

He's so excited. The blue of his eyes dull rapidly into a ravenous gray as his control over him slips around Deku's brain anew, worming into every crevice. It's almost terrifyingly intimate, how much stronger this connection is. He wonders if Deku could feel him now, reaching in.

"Oh..." he says softly, voice coming out a shaky whisper. "What are you saying...? Go back...?" A dry laugh, barely audible now as he trembles. "To what? I haven't... changed... I'm still..."

A hero, that forbidden concept that tastes wrong, twists and curdles, pulled away with the hooks of an old promise.

"... a god, unless you claim me mortal now, I'm still as I've always meant to be. I'm still... giving you... a villain," he laughs, "what he deserves... Mm..."

He tightens the coil, wondering. It's strange, it feels so strange, he suddenly wants to... press down... and squeeze... His foot applies more pressure on his neck, his smile growing, his body shaking all the more as he tightens his grip on the sample.

"... You should thank me..." he whispers, power dripping from every word. "This may very well absolve you yet. You feel very ashamed of yourself, right? Thank me. Apologize. Repent. Feel it with every fucking cell of your body, Midoriya."

For a split second, he saw freedom. The buzzing ceased, color returned to his vision, he saw Monoma fully, in all his glory. Above him.

Where he belongs.

And then- just like that; it was gone. And the buzzing was back this time, but this time, it was different. When Monoma speaks, it's like he's speaking from inside his own mind, his voice bouncing off skull, surrounding him, enveloping him, piercing him.

"I' m.... "

He chokes out pathetically, straining to speak with a foot over his windpipe.

"I'm s ssorry y .. .. I'm s s s s or ry... "

Another memory clouds his vision- this one is also broken, and painful; his first kill. There is a man on the ground. Middle aged, plain looking. Nothing special. His throat is slit, and there is blood pooling underneath him. He is dying, slowly. Except, he can't hear any voices this time, just the sound of his own thoughts- back then.

It has t o be done. It has to be done. He is bad. I am good. He was bad. He was bad. He did bad. He d i d bad. He is a v i l l a i n. I a m a h>ero . I AM A HERO.

The memory is gone, replaced by his own mangled sobs- the irony being that he's in the exact same position that man was.

"I .. d d..des s.ee r ve. T_ his. I d>] es erv , e this."

He struggles to breathe as his form begins to write underneath him, like a worm. He can't cry anymore- he swears he's out of tears. "T ->hank .. y&ou... "

"..."

The smile slowly starts to fall. Strangely, like he's almost forgotten to continue holding it in place. Kaitou grips the sample tighter, removes his show from his throat, stares at him, expression almost mystified.

"I wonder if you still love me," he whispers.

Love me, his thoughts repeat. It's a command, impaling itself into place within Deku without even needing to be said.

"I wonder... Have you ever felt so awful?"

Love me.

"I wonder why..." He pauses, contemplating the feeling as he allows the vicious pump of endorphins to ravage Deku's brain and body. Twisted, perfect masochism, the same as he's ever felt, better. He pours it all into him, his own face blank as his control tightens around him even more.

"You're so sure that we'll die together. Why is that? Tell me... Do you know something I don't?" He laughs without humor. "Can you even say it?"

He falls silent. What comes into his mind next is less of an idea, less of a conscious thought, almost a dream in a way, one of the last few technicolor images before one opens their eyes back to reality. He follows his ghost of an urge automatically, unquestioningly, swept up in his own trance of power.

Puppet strings seem to tug at Deku's hands in that instant, demanding.

...

Bring the blade to your throat.

His thoughts swirl with visions of Monoma, next. Image after image fills his brain. Monoma, above him, under him. Monoma happy- sad, nothing, everything.

"I do love you."

He squeezes out with no hesitation, as if it's something he was dying to say. I love you, I hate you. And everything in between.

When he demands Deku to tell him what he knows, his face breaks into a smile. Broken. agonized. And he feels the endorphins pumping through him; his body screaming for more. For more pain, more despair- this is what he wants. This is what he NEEDS!

Slowly, his hands come up to hug himself, laughing softly- though it's hard to tell them apart from sobs.

"Ever since I met you, I ... can't explain it. It's like I've seen you before, but I don't know where. .. A voice... in my head told me the steps necessary to make you into.. a god . I didn't know why I needed to do it. I just.. haha.."

He coughs up blood, it splattering disgustingly out of his mouth.

"I knew I had to. I've .. seen you before. Not here. In .... hh .. s .somewhere else. I never wanted to be .. connected to you like this. It doesn't .. even.. make sense. And . I've seen things .. in my dreams. Visions of you.. becoming .. this. And other things , all .. involving you. And.. a ..and me . At different times , d...dd...d different ages. In different places. I don't c.. claim to understand it."

He breathes out a wheeze as he brings his blade up to his throat, his hand trembling. His smile falters, and falls.

"It's not that we die together . That can happen. I'd rather that.. happen. But usually..."

He presses the blade to his throat with a gasp as blood starts to trickle softly. And then he closes his eyes- as if accepting it.

"Y.. you.... kill me first."

"Huh..."

Kaitou crouches besides him as he listes, resting his chin against his hands as he props them on his knees. He doesn't react to the sudden spatter of red that splashes his face as Deku suddenly coughs up the blood he's been drowning in. As he finishes, he just looks - vaguely unimpressed.

"You ruined me for such a stupid reason as that..." He reaches out, touching a finger to the scissors he still holds. "Dreams," he drags his touch over the first loop, "visions," he moves over the second. "... Delusions..."

He wants to crush him. He wants, practically feels, practically tastes the leak of red as he keeps squeezing and coiling through his mind, wondering what would happen if he just...

"... I will kill you. It's your own fault..."

... keeps...

"... Dying like this..."

... squeezing...

"... is a mercy."

As the other talks, Deku begins to tremble again. His visage shrinks, lower and lower. He suddenly has the urge to bow beneath him- bow so hard HE BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF. He --wants-- to needs to worship him. Love him, worship him. Worship him. Worship him. A strangled gasp gurgles from his throat as his eyes pop open in a last burst of sudden adrenaline that he can't do anything with- so tragic. TRAGIC.

"It'-s . My own fault . .. ."

He can feel the other's will crushing his own, choking it- suffocating it. "P l..e eas e... " Blood flows from his mouth like a waterfall. His body convulses and twists unnaturally, letting out a loud scream as he tries desperately to free himself- a bird thrashing around recklessly in a cage. "LET ME DIE."

The sudden shriek from him makes Kaitou jump, dull eyes widening, pupils shrinking to nothing as he shakes with the feeling, his own soul throttling Deku's from existence--

He------------

...

... flinches, watching the blade suddenly jerk in Deku's hands and gouge a shallow line right across the side of his throat.

And - and and and and and.

Deku chokes, and gurgles, as blood spouts from his throat in a sea of beautiful red.

He feels the hold on his mind suddenly release and his consciousness come through- and all he can do is scream, and cry. He falls to the ground, holding his throat, trying desperately to hold the blood inside his body. His pupils are flitting back and forth wildly before landing on the blond. "I - " He sputters out in between sobs, rocking on the ground softly, hands to his throat. His voice is filled with malice, pain, heartbreak. And again- fear.

"... I hope .. you're happy."

Kaitou is further soaked in hot crimson, then. It soaks into his hair, covers his face, paints every inch of his skin. Life sparks in his eyes again as the connection suddenly breaks. He watches Deku crumple and break and cry and break and break.

"Ah..."

It's awful.

"Ahaha...."

He fumbles, nearly stumbling back, then crawling closer, clutching at himself, suddenly searching-

"Aha... HAHA haha..."

A camera whips forward.

"Hehe... .heheh..." Kaitou starts a frantic recording of what's in front of him on his phone, biting down on his fingers with his free hand as he fights a delirious fit of laughter, making clip after clip. As he forces another few seconds of calm in him, he suddenly clutches at his hair as glee seems to burst from him wildly, a hideously loud cackle leaving him before he's finally able to shudder towards silence again.

He smiles, biting shakily onto his lip. "I am... I am! This-" His breath hitches as he giggles again, hysterical at the sight. "This is the happiest day of my entire life!! Hahaha!!!"

Monoma's voice fades in and out, in and out again. He looks at the phone pointed at him with dying hatred in his eyes, unbroken hand clawing at the ground, broken hand still over his throat as he tries, and fails, to keep the blood in his body.

... One last memory flashes through his mind. It's - a picture , clear as day, of him. As a child, no more than let's say... 6 years old. He sits in front of the TV screen. The smell of food being cooked wafts in from the kitchen. On the TV screen is the words INTERVIEW WITH A VILLAIN. A man, locked up in high security, speaks to the camera calmly as someone else asks questions.

"What made you lash out like this?" "What do you mean?" Well, everyone has a story, right? What turn of events led you to becoming a villain? Did something bad to you happen as a child?" "I had a rather excellent childhood." "So then... what was it?" " I think.. you misunderstand. This is the problem society faces today. The people you call 'villains'- they don't require a tragic upbringing to do the things they do. Morality like that will get you in trouble. See, what one might view as inherently a bad thing, someone else might view it as a good thing. And vice versa." "I.. I don't understand." "Of course you don't. Barely anybody does. Humans are fine tuned to view everything as either black or white- barely any room for gray areas. Gray areas like me. And, if there's anything I learned, it's that no man is created equal, despite what anybody might say. And that's why... I'm going to keep fighting."

The boy in front of the TV studies the face of the man on the screen- he swears he's seen him before.

"Izuku! T- turn that off! It's time for dinner..."

The memory fades. Slowly, Deku takes his hand off his throat, going limp, accepting defeat as the blood now flows freely from his neck onto the ground and his vision begins to fade. As it does, he gives Monoma one last look, before uttering, brokenly:

"I.... HATE you."

Monoma's face falls. He lets his phone drop, not even caring as the screen gets wet with the spilled blood covering the ground.

He watches Deku going limp. Life fades from him. The pool of red around him grows bigger and bigger.

He tilts his head, thinking.

"... You lied to me."

He frowns. "You told me you'd love me no matter what. I do one thing to you... One thing..." A hiccup of a laugh leaves him, another miserable burst of giggles interrupting his words. "And suddenly that's what you say to me...? You've wasted your last words on that...?"

A sulk reaches his lips as he winds a lock of his hair between his fingers. "How unfair...Ah, that's so unfair... That's not what I... wanted..."

He grits his teeth, expression hardening as he continues to twirl and twirl that lock of hair around. All the glee inside him is poisoned now, tainted, he hates this... hates....

Frustrated, he finally lets out a loud huff, searching his clothes. Eventually, he draws out a silvery hair, coiling it tight around his finger. "Fine," he snarls out, though his expression softens with his decision and he sighs as this soft new quirk settles inside him, loving and caring and kind. "Fine... Deku-kun..."

He leans in, a curl to his lips as he approaches the gaping wound in his throat. "I'll do my duty... and let you make it up to me instead..." He smiles. "Then I can just kill you and kill you again until you get it right... doesn't that sound nice? Aha..."

He brings his lips to his neck and lets his body figure out the nightmarish strain it takes to form a gnarled, scabbing scar right into place, sealing the rest of his reformed blood in. He pets his hair after, kissing it again without the power attached, and again and again, sighing with pride as he waits for Deku to awaken again.

He was so close. For a split second - for once, he felt ... at peace. A warmth engulfs his body, briefly.

Briefly. And then, jarringly, he's forced back into consciousness, in the arms of the boy who he thought- he swore killed him. And all he can manage to get out is a weak "No..."

He doesn't have the energy to cry. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Weakly, the boy lifts his arms, trying, pathetically, to push the other's face away from him.

"Let.. me... die."

Kaitou hums to himself, ignoring his struggles as he nuzzles back into place. His arms coil around him tight, clutching onto him like a monster seeking to drain every last bit out of him.

"I'll let you die when you earn it," he murmurs happily, lost in the rush of it all. "Until then, spend every second like this... in... my... debt... Haha..."

And he's so happy.

As Deku lies there, limp, he stares at the ceiling- eyes empty; devoid of any color- of anything.

Nothing runs through his mind- not a memory, a thought, some fucked-up, twisted defense mechanism his brain came up with to shield itself- comfort itself, soothe itself.

It's just... cold. And dark.

There's.

Nothing.

Left.

All he can feel is the pure malice radiating off of the one who saved his life- this...

...hero.

#monoma.docx #dead end.arc #deconstruction.arc #v deku #captivity.arc #apotheosis.arc #[[ hwow ]]]

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