being a jew studying preholocaust european jewish history is just *mourns over what could have been, mourns over what could have been, mourns over what could have been, mourns over what could have been, mourns-*
That’s actually such a good point about alternative history. So many ask “what if we got the bad ending?”, ignorant of the fact we did, that’s just a worse ending.
Asking “what if the Nazis won” allows one to live in the safe world where the Nazis were the root source of evil in WWII. Asking “what if the Jews lived” forces you to confront the fact that almost all of Europe was complicit in their eradication. Every European power, the United states, everyone involved hated the Jewish people. Everyone was complicit in antisemitism, everyone just sat back and let it happen.
It took an invasion of Poland for the UK and France to act, and it took a direct attack on the US for the US to officially get involved. All of the torture, enslavement, and murder of Jews before this were overlooked because not even below the surface, the German antisemitism wasn’t unique. And basically nobody has the guts to address that.
um, so i think i've accidentally written myself into crack-shipping mel and silco....oops?
“This is the perfect spot for an ambush.”
She let out a chuckle, genuine humour sparking in her eyes as she gestured at the mostly empty surrounds. It was far too early in the morning for the usual suspects to be haunting this more historic part of the docks with its old, scuffed canons and the craggy old cliffs that had been the centre of Piltover’s trade in centuries long past.
“As you can see, I am very much alone,” she said, a challenge in her eyes as though daring him to try something. “The rules of parlay are a serious thing, wouldn’t you agree?”
“And you’re not afraid?” Silco asked, insolently running his gaze from the top of her pretty little head to her sandaled feet.
It would be an easy thing to kill her where she stood. The body wouldn’t float up into the bay for a good day or two. A slash of the knife tucked in his left boot, a shot to the heart from the pistol he kept tucked in his breast pocket, simply strangling her with his bare hands and dashing her head on the ledge where she stood, and he could deal a blow that would have the top city reeling. A perfect move to press their cause.
“I’m not afraid.”
She came to a stop a mere step away from him, not one ounce of trepidation in her confident stride, giving truth to her words. Nor did she do the usual thing he’d come to expect from insufferable Piltovans—not once did her regard linger on the left side of his face, or peer in mild horror and discomfort at his ruined eye, no sneers of superiority or disdain or pity at his scars or general person. She simply stood and returned his look with a placid but thorough assessment.
Summary: Each year Midoriya turns your birthday and its following and preceding days into an event. While you two do things together in the meantime, like eating takeout, baths together, grocery shopping, a movie and making desserts together, these activities are not the specially planned ones he’s created for the two of you. Those are as follow: Wash day, Spa Trip, Picnic at Sunset.
Hii! So this was written as a birthday present to my wonderful friend Elle! Happy belated birthday girl and I hope you enjoy it <3 @voidsorceress
so my logical brain KNOWS that mahito is a very horrible and dangerous evil being that would sooner transfigure me body and soul into something unrecognizable than even give me the time of day. but my horny brain keeps thinking about him being super fascinated by the idea of breeding, the ways he could manipulate his dick, and how obsessed/ attached he would get 👀 can I request some nsfw with him and a chubby reader to that end?
also, dubcon, some yandere, otherwise unhealthy elements are 1000% fine, I just really want a reader fic with him that isn't like, straight noncon or super violent but still pretty in character if that makes sense 🥲
honestly anon, this is almost . . . fluffy? i had a lot of fun writing it! mahito is a little shit but he’s also . . . cute?????
reblogs and comments are much appreciated / my jjk masterlist
scientific knowledge - mahito x reader (4k)
the cursed spirit who has moved into your house (possibly against your will, you’re not sure anymore) discovers your internet history. he would really like to know more about this ‘breeding kink’.
warnings: not sfw. afab reader, neutral pronouns. slightly dub-con (reader is into it but also very aware mahito could kill them). manipulation of tongue and dick. breeding kink. mentions of pregnancy. coming inside. explicitly chubby reader.
You think of Mahito as a cat.
You guess you could call him a lost puppy, the way that he always seems to be around when you’re at home and has made himself comfortable amongst your rooms and possessions – but there’s a way he has of looking at you, a tilt to his chin and a smile on his face, that suggests to you he’s far too smart for that. So a cat he is; always waiting to strike, always wanting to touch anything you bring home, asking you endless questions and demanding answers with a pout and a tug of your arm.
But, despite what you know he’s capable of (what he’s told you he’s capable of, with a laugh that’s too bright and eyes that are too wide), he’s never tried to hurt you. More, he seems to enjoy having you around – having someone to talk to and bother with his curiosity. You cannot bring yourself to be rude to him, and you’d be lying if you weren’t fascinated yourself by the cursed creature that you’ve found yourself saddled with--
So the two of you rub along.
And if you have noticed that Mahito’s eyes are pretty, that he is lithe but toned beneath his loose grey shirt, that he looks handsome and comfortable amongst the detritus of your life, you swallow the lump in your throat and will the heat in your cheeks away. That doesn’t stop Mahito from looking at you like he knows what you’re thinking about, with his patchwork smiling face hidden behind a hand, but it makes you feel better.
You know what he is capable of. You should not be wondering what it would feel like to kiss him! You should not have watched in fascination one night after you’d watched a horror film with too much blood and he’d altered his shape to match the forked tongue, too big, of the villainous monster of the movie!
You should not have to press your thighs together and will yourself not to let your fingers slip between them because there is just something about him that you cannot deny.
You suppose he is like a cat because you had shown him kindness, once, and he had followed you home with a grin and an; “I like you, you know!” and you had not had the heart (or the death wish) to throw him out; so you talk to him, and provide for him, and do not ask him about what he does when he isn’t there.
You probably should, considering he had once produced from his pocket a very shrivelled up little bean-shaped object emitting a low groaning noise, and said, grinning; “This used to be a human being!”
You’d peered at it.
“What is it now?” You’d asked him. He’d frowned and looked at it himself, considering the question. You’d said; “A human bean?”
And Mahito had laughed so hard that you’d thought you might need to stop him from choking.
He reads your books, roots through your possessions, uses your shower products (you’re kind of glad about that one; at first, a scent like death and rot and sewers had clung to him). He has tried on your clothes – ignored your personal space utterly, wrapping himself around you (he always seems to be freezing cold) when you’re on the sofa, and poked at your food until you’ve given him some.
(“I don’t need to eat,” he says, as he grabs his own spoon and digs into the bowl of ice cream. “That’s a silly, human thing to need. But . . . it’s good, isn’t it?” You had bought two tubs at the store next time and used a label-maker to write his name on one, and he had been delighted, exclaiming – not without a touch of lingering threat – “This is why you’re my favourite!”)
And you put up with it. You let him. Because a part of you has grown to enjoy his company, of seeing his silver-grey head perk up when you let yourself into your own home. It’s nice having somebody to come home to, even if that somebody is a something – even if that something is a curse that could kill you without blinking and relish in your dying screams.
Today, you’d come home to hear laughter from your bedroom, and you’d opened the door to see what Mahito had found so interesting, hoping that it was nothing that might stain your carpets.
“What are you looking at?” You ask. He looks comfortable, pleased, lounging on your bed with your tablet in his hand, scrolling leisurely with his grey-and-blue eyes wide with delight as he drinks in information on whatever it is he’s got open right now. Your money’s on a page of urban legends you’d found for him a few weeks ago; Mahito loves reading about supernatural things. He likes to point out exactly which parts of them are fake.
“I figured out how to look at internet history!” He chirps. The words fill you with dread, but you hope he’s just figured out how to get back into your Google search results so he can find things to make fun of himself.
“Is that so?” You ask, carefully. Mahito looks up from the screen, his face illuminated by the white glow. His stitches seem even more pronounced in this light, his eyes even wider. “Find anything interesting?”
“What’s a breeding kink?”
If you had been holding something in your hand, you would have dropped it. His eyes bore into you from his position, and the irony that he’s asking you this as he lays on your bed is not lost on you. There’s an amused slant to his mouth, a relaxed set of his shoulders that suggests to you that despite what he’s asking, he already knows.
“I-- umm--”
“You read a lot of dirty fiction,” he continues. “I knew humans liked to eat, sleep, and fuck, but I didn’t realise just how varied that fucking could be--”
You are so embarrassed you think you might cry. It’s bad enough that he’d seen your searches, that he’d possibly read some of your favourite, bookmarked stories – but the fact he’s rubbing your face in it, all cute and teasing--
He drops your tablet and rolls onto his stomach, steepling his fingers together so he can rest his chin on them.
“Y’know,” he says to you, “reading about these breeding kinks has given me some really interesting thoughts about experiments we could do together.”
Your throat goes dry. Mahito is still staring at you, curious smile on his face, gaze boring into you so you feel like he’s looking directly at your soul – hell, with all of the stuff he’s always talking about, maybe he is. You swallow, bringing a hand awkwardly to flutter around your chest.
“E-experiments?” You ask him, hoping that he hasn’t noticed that your heart has started pounding in your chest and a bloom of heat has made itself known, low down in your stomach. Further down than that, actually – you just don’t want to admit that what Mahito is saying is making you wet. You think it’s probably better if he doesn’t. He’s probably just fucking with you, anyway--
“Uhuh!” He chirps. He moves, fast as lightning – before you can react, before you can even blink, Mahito’s slim frame is pressing you against your bedroom wall, surprisingly strong considering his looks. He’s tall enough that you have to tip your chin upwards to look at him, and he seems to enjoy having you at his mercy. “You’re cute, y’know!”
You consider wriggling against him and trying to get free, but knowing Mahito’s unpredictable nature, you decide that’s probably a bad idea. Your best bet, you think, is to hope that he’s joking. He lowers his face so his forehead presses against yours, the tip of his nose brushing your own.
“I’m not joking,” he tells you, his voice serious and intense. “I think that it would be very beneficial for me to explore some more about human bodies. If I’m going to go around altering the shape of their soul, I mean!” One of his hands cups your face. He’s so cold. You almost shiver – but you stay, trapped, your eyes level with his. There’s a coldness in the pits of them that terrifies you. He really does just see you as something to be toyed with.
That shouldn’t be sexy, damnit. Fiction really has rotted your brain.
“I’m curious,” he says to you, hand travelling lower down now, to the neckline of your shirt. “If a curse and a human fuck--” The glee in his voice as he caresses the word almost forces a whimper out of your lips. “Can I breed you? I don’t think I can – the physiology is different, I suppose – but it’s an experiment, so I’ve absolutely got to rule it out, or I’ll never be satisfied--” A grin, feral. One of his knees suddenly forces itself between your own, effectively parting your thighs. “What do you think? Wanna help?”
Anything you were going to say dies on your lips as his knee goes higher and presses against your core through the fabric of your jeans, hard enough that the pressure sends shock-waves of excitement through you and your mouth opens to emit a soft, pathetic little whine.
Mahito’s eyes light up. His knee does not move; he grinds it again, purposely this time, into you.
“You’re wet,” he tells you, as if you don’t already know – as if you’re not in danger of soaking through your jeans. His lips lean in to brush against your ear, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. “You like me too, right? I might not know humans very well, but I see the way you look at me.” His fingers brush your breast through fabric. The other hand is at your hip, ruching up your shirt so he can touch bare skin. “It’s okay! I don’t mind. It just means you have to help, right?”
“Mahito,” you try and say, weakly, but his tongue has snaked out to trace a line over your jaw and you are so very weak. You’re shivering, trembling, your mind hazy with what he’s dangling in front of you – and when his teeth, just a fraction too sharp, tug on your earlobe, you short circuit and murmur; “Yes. Yes--”
He pulls back, grabbing your wrist.
“Great!” He tells you, as he tosses you towards the bed. His eyes are still almost frighteningly wide, intensity radiating off of him in great waves. “Take off your clothes! I’ve read enough about this, I think I’ve got it now--”
You stumble a little from his over-enthusiastic guiding, but you’re already lifting your shirt off over your head. Mahito’s eyes are drinking you in, interest colouring his gaze in a way that makes you feel pleased and giddy. You’re often anxious about the way you look – even more anxious, when despite the strange patchwork quality of Mahito’s body his face is handsome and he knows you’ve been looking.
“Let me,” he says to you, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra as if it’s not the first time he’s done it. Well. He’s tried on your clothes, maybe it’s not the first time – your train of thought is stopped as Mahito pulls at your underwear too, sliding them off you so they fall around your ankles and you kick them away.
He doesn’t say anything about the gossamer thread of your arousal that breaks – he’s far too busy running his hands over you, palms calloused and cold.
“You’re so soft,” he says, in wonderment. “You’re so warm!” He squeezes your hips, pushing you backwards so you’re forced to sit on the bed. You’re entirely at the curse’s mercy, and all that is doing is making you feel light-headed and warm. He groans as he strips off his own clothes, clearly annoyed by how they’re getting in his way. He leaves his loose trousers on for a second, as he crawls onto the bed opposite you and returns to taking handfuls of your skin, squeezing and kneading it. Your nipples perk under the pinch of his thumb and forefinger, and he giggles.
“You’re so cute,” he says, sing-song, moving to your stomach, the flesh there being gently poked and petted and squished too. “Adorable!” Your cheeks are all hot. Does he really think that? If he’d seen your internet history, you guess that means he might have seen some of the porn videos you’ve watched, and you definitely don’t look like those actors--
“I mean it,” he tells you, insistently, as if he can tell you’re second-guessing yourself. You really hope that he hasn’t been able to read your thoughts this whole time and kept it from you--
His fingers trail up your thighs, forming a V-shape to pull open the plump lips of your cunt. He leans forward, staring at it, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“This is cute too,” he intones again, fascinated by the petal-soft lips of your folds, of the throb of your hole, the pink pearl of your clit nestled in there. “Even warmer--”
A finger drags through your slick and you bite your lip hard, the sensation of his cold digits on your warmest, wettest parts making you want to push up against him for friction at the same time as making you want to pull away from him.
He laughs again as his finger brushes your clit and you jerk, another soft whine escaping your mouth. He brings his finger to his mouth to taste you, wide smile settling across his face.
“You taste good, too!” He tells you. “I didn’t think you would, but you’re . . .” He pops the finger back in his mouth, his tongue lengthening to drink in every drop of your slick glistening on it, and you feel yourself clench. Oh, fuck. You’ve got it bad. “Sweet!” He leans forward again and licks a long stripe up your sex, your toes clenching at the sensation of the cool, wet muscle, your body reacting to the sight of the inhumanly long tongue enjoying the taste of you--
While he licks at you, forming his tongue into a scoop to get more of your taste into his mouth, his hands fiddle with his loose pants. You guess he isn’t wearing underwear, but that thought disappears as the forked tongue (when did he fork it?) flutters over your clit and you see stars, moaning loudly into your ceiling. God, it feels so good. A cursed spirit is eating you out and instead of wanting him to stop, you just want him to do it harder.
You’re brought back to Earth by Mahito, dropping his pants with a flourish.
Your moans die in your throat as you see what Mahito has between his thighs. Your eyes nervously dart from the cock resting thick and heavy and flushed, to Mahito’s face, pride in the way his hand comes to support it.
“Whaddya think?” He asks. “I modelled it on some of the stuff you were watching--”
“I-it’s big—” You say, nervous, not wanting to offend him. “I’m--”
“Ah!” He nods. Before your eyes, it seems to shrink a little, thinning out. “I don’t wanna hurt my lab rat!” Despite the fact he just called you a ‘lab rat’, affection is leaking out of his tone in great waves. “Is this better?”
“Y-yeah,” you nod, shifting closer. You reach out a hand nervously. It won’t be the first cock you’ve touched, but it’s certainly the first cursed cock you’ll have touched (the fact that he’s included a ring of stitches around the base is kind of cute, actually--) and you’re not sure how sensitive he might be.
A hiss comes out of his mouth as you wrap your hand around it.
Very sensitive, then. His eyes flutter closed, hips rocking forward into the warmth of your touch as you give it a few nervous pumps. His teeth bite into his bottom lip for a moment as he groans--
“Feels good,” he tells you, eyes snapping open. “But it’ll feel better inside of you, right?” One of his hands lands on your thigh, fingers digging just a bit too hard into the plush flesh. “I want to see what all the fuss is about--”
He doesn’t give you much time to think about it, as he crawls over you, caging your body beneath his. He’s lucky that your desire for him has been brewing for longer than you’d like to admit – lucky that the way he’d talked to you and stared at you and murmured about how soft you were have made you wet enough that when his cock brushes your slit, you arch your back and whimper out his name.
He tries to thrust it in you twice, awkwardly missing the pulsing hole both times, before you take pity on him and prop yourself up on one elbow enough to reach between you and take hold of the base of his shaft. He laughs at his own ineptitude, clearly finding this all very fun, but the laugh dies in his throat and turns into a guttural groan as you guide it inside you at exactly the right angle.
“Oh,” he says, as he sinks further and further inside you, and you can do nothing but wrap your arms around his neck and cling to his hair. “That’s what the fuss is about.”
You tug on the silver locks in your hand (it’s surprisingly soft, but then again, he has been using your conditioner) and Mahito groans, which is . . . interesting. If he doesn’t kill you after his little experiment, maybe you could explore that further. His chest presses against your breast as he bottoms out inside you – his eyes looking down at you as if he’s had some kind of religious experience.
“Okay,” he breathes, pulling back a little before driving back into you (making you see stars, again), “I kind of get why humans like fucking so much—”
“Enough to keep us around for longer?” You pant, as Mahito begins to find a rhythm, the silky sear of him pumping into your sex distracting. Mahito huffs out a laugh.
“Enough to keep you specifically around for longer,” he tells you, “Especially if you keep . . . feeling like this. You know,” he hits you with a fierce stroke, his hands coming to grip your hips hard. “You’re my favourite!”
Something moves, and you whimper – did he just make his cock bigger inside of you? The stretch makes you squirm beneath his grip, Mahito’s fingers and thumbs dig into your skin, his face turning very serious.
“D-did you just--?” You gasp, as his thrusts get faster and harder. He slides his hands further down, grasping the softness of your thighs in them and pushing your knees up so they press against your chest. In this position, you can tell that he has definitely made his cock bigger – it pounds you deeper, further, buried so far inside you feel like you’re being speared in the absolute best way.
“Maybe,” he says, teasingly, hips establishing a brutal pace. “I just wanna make sure I come inside you a lot!”
You’d almost forgotten the purpose of this little exercise, because of his tongue and fingers and cock – your body gives a squeeze around his cock, constricting him and making his groan stutter, at the thought of being filled up by him. Mahito giggles again, but breathlessly – this is his first time, you remember. You shouldn’t be surprised if he comes quickly.
“You really do like the idea of being bred, huh?” He asks you. The thick cock inside you is rubbing against all of your sensitive spots, your walls tight and silky and clinging around him. “You got so tight, cutie--”
“Mahito,” you whimper about again, and he leans down and kisses you. His tongue is still too big, and forked – but the kiss is hungry and passionate, exploring every inch of your mouth like he wants to eat you alive. The pounding in your core is getting faster, hungrier.
“I like it when you say my name,” he mumbles, against your lips, almost drooling onto you. You can’t breathe. The feel of his cock inside you, the heat that he’s stirring up with every drag of his hips is overwhelming, too much to handle. All you can feel is him, so big that he feels like he might break you in half.
“’m gonna--” You’re mumbling, hot, needy. You don’t care that he probably can’t understand what you’re saying. “Please, ‘m-- too much--!”
“Cute,” he repeats, breathlessly. “You’re so cute-”
Too much becomes too much (emphasised), and your orgasm bursts into being in blinding technicolour, heat wrapping around you as your pleasure reaches a crescendo that makes your feet lock into the small of his back. He groans in surprise, breaking the kiss – blinking down at you with those mismatched eyes as your mouth is free to wail at the intensity of all of the feelings that are overwhelming you. Your channel is clenching hungrily around him, milking him for all that it’s worth.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, that’s so good—”
His hips stutter. His mouth drops into an ‘o’, as if he’s surprised – and then, his hips are wildly knocking against you, cock twitching and shuddering inside of you. Mahito’s noises are no longer discernible – just groans and whimpers, the feeling of him inside you just adding to the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm’s aftershocks as they ripple through you.
He’s coming.
He’s coming inside of you, like he said he would; trying to breed you, like he said he was going to, and the knowledge and the sensation of being pumped full of his come pushes you into a trembling second orgasm, shorter and sharper than the first. Your nails dig into his bare shoulders as he groans, muffing the noise of his own weakness once more with your mouth.
You did not think, when you’d walked in on Mahito on your tablet, this was where tonight was going to do – but with the feeling of his thick release inside of you, painting your inner walls with pearly fluid, you can’t say that you’re disappointed. You are disappointed when Mahito pulls back, gently dragging his cock out of you, his lips leaving yours so he can watch the way that your cunt is stretched around the shaft inside of it.
He pulls out of you with a pop, and his fascinated eyes watch as some of his release dribbles out of you in trickles – he opens his mouth, again, and his too-long tongue gets even longer. Long enough to scoop the release and push it back inside you, as if he’s using the thing like an extra finger – the sensation of the muscle on your already sensitive walls makes you whimper, squirming slightly. Your knees are still pressed to your chest, so that Mahito has the perfect view of how pink and sore you look after his rough treatment.
“This position looks so nice on you,” he tells you, with a grin. He’s staring down at you, eyes bright and wide. You know you should not find him comforting. You know he could kill you where you stand (or where you lie, which is the more accurate description). But there’s something in his gaze that’s the closest that you think that Mahito can get to fondness. His cock is already stirring (yes, he definitely made it bigger – you wonder just how big he can make it and have you still be able to take it).
“Can I do it again?” He asks, unprompted, as if he’s not already shuffling on his knees closer to you, and as if you’re not already breathlessly trying to open your legs wider. “I don’t know much about human science, but I feel like with experiments it’s good to be thorough--!”
He doesn’t need your help guiding his cock back inside of you this time.
vaporwave
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