#goggles make me feral man
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There's just something about a bitch in goggles
#tech#star wars tech#Donatello#donny tmnt#abe sapien#loved that guy#quicksilver#goggles make me feral man
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dance w the devil || ticci toby & kate the chaser
smut MINORS DNI 18+. tw: you’ve been kidnapped sorry, weed usage, choking, virgin!toby, boss bitch slightly less feral than cannon!kate, mentions of physical abuse (yk, since you’ve been kidnapped)
You sat in the cold basement, shivering as the concrete scratched against your skin. The chains bonded to your wrist rattled as you shifted uncomfortably, the blinding light of the basement door opening making you cringe. You squinted your eyes, expecting to see the familiar shapes of Masky and Hoodie. The two hell hounds that belonged to the devil, you had decided. You had enough bruises on you to justify your judgment. You were surprised to see two new visitors, ones you hadn’t seen before. One was tall and lanky, orange goggles covering his eyes and a tarnished face mask covering the rest of his face. Beside him is what you assumed to be a woman, her face covered with a similar mask to Masky’s.
Her hands were shoved into her hoodie’s pocket, while the man carried an axe slung over his shoulder. They flicked on the light switch, the light bulb being held by a string above you sparking to life. You narrowed your eyes as you examined them, the two not as in sync as Masky and Hoodie. “H-Hello there!” The man greeted, crouching down to your level. He attempted to caresses your face, causing you to instinctively try to bite him. Your body was completely restrained except for your mouth. This was done purposefully, the hell hounds hoping you’d spew whatever they wanted to know. But you didn’t know what they were talking about at all, leading you to be trapped in the dreaded basement until you spewed up whatever they were looking for. Your teeth clashed together as the man pulled his hand away, chuckling as he looked back at his partner.
“Wow s-she’s almost as f-feisty as you Kate!”
The woman now known as Kate rolled her eyes under her mask. “Shut it goggles,” She hissed. The brunette lifted up his goggles, his chocolate eyes searching yours. You weren’t quite sure what for, your heart pounding as you tried to back away. “Jesus t-they made those p-pretty tight huh?” The man asked, referring to your restraints. You slowly nodded, unsure if the truth would bite you in the ass. He reached forward, assertively grabbing your bound wrist and unlocking it. You watched the metal fall and hit the floor with a clank, your hands instantly shooting to rub your sore wrist. “My names T-Toby, but you can call m-me whatever you want,” He purred. You blinked, attempting to move further away from the brunette. Kate grabbed his shoulder, shoving his backwards. “Shut up you’re scaring her,” She barked. It was apparent to you the two weren’t too fond of one another. It made you question why they decided to come together and not alone.
“Alright i’ll cut to the chase so goggles stops trying to butter you up like a shitty piece of cornbread,” Kate spat. She crouched down to your level, sliding up her mask. If you took away the dried blood splatters and dirt that painted different parts of her face, she was quite pretty for such a feral woman. “We’ve come here with an offer we think you’ll find quite enticing,” She continued. You managed to maintain eye contact with her, her rough voice somehow soothing to you throughout the terror. “You see kid, Toby’s a little virgin with no woman experience and you can bet your sweet ass i’m not going to be a test subject,” Kate went on. You felt your eyes widened as you knew where this was going, instantly trying to use your freed hands to back away. “Nuh uh, absolutely no fuckin way,” You snapped. Toby went to intervene, Kate’s hand stopping him. It was her silent way of telling him to give her a second. “Hold that thought, let me finish,” She said. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tucked your knees to your chest.
“Toby here can just guess how to fuck a girl. But foreplay? He doesn’t know shit. You let me teach him how to make a girl cum and we’ll let you spend some time in the sunshine,” She told you. You couldn’t hide the sight of your face lighting up. “You’ll let me go outside?” You asked. Toby tried to approach you again, both of them crouched down and to your eye level. Kate cut him off before he could talk, knowing her pitch landed. “It’ll be supervised of course, but you look like you could use some vitamin D,” She clarified. The thought of seeing raw and bright sunshine filled you with joy, your feet aching to touch the grass outside. It was hard to recall the last time you had been in the suns warmth. It was a miracle the hell hounds let you use the bathroom in peace. You began to agree, the realization of your filth occurring to you. “I’m uh, not the cleanest though, I don’t know,” You answered hesitantly. Kate delivered Toby a wicked grin, one that sent a chill down your spine.
“Why don’t we get you a bath kid?”
You were hesitant to undress in front of the duo, the bathroom much cleaner than the basement. “This is mine and Jane’s personal bathroom. You’re welcome kid. The majority of the residents here are gross,” Kate said, noticing your gawking. You took that as your cue to undress, shoving your shirt over your head. Glancing at yourself in the mirror you hardly recognized yourself, having lost weight dramatically and your cheeks hollowed. Toby turned on the water, checking the temperature to ensure it was nice and warm. He couldn’t help himself from staring at you as you awkwardly stood there naked, avoiding his assertive gaze. Kate pressed up against you, her breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry kid he’s just admiring,” She cooed. Her fingertips traced over a bruise Masky had given you, the skin becoming a dark purple. “Damn, Masky got you good huh?” She muttered to herself. It was then Toby extended his hand, guiding you towards the bathtub. Kate went around him, pouring some bubble bath into the tub to create soap.
The inviting scent of vanilla flooded your nostrils, putting you slightly at ease. You swallowed as you took his hand, allowing him to guide you into the bath. You were shaky as you sat down, the waters warmth causing you to let out a relieved sigh. It was only when Kate sat on the edge of the tub the reality of the situation came crashing back down. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a lighter, fear washing over you. “Relax, this is more for you than it is for me,” Kate said casually. The familiar smell of weed clashed with the vanilla, your eyes watching her take a deep inhale. “I-Is this really n-necessary?” Toby asked. Kate rolled her eyes, handing the freshly lit joint to you as she exhaled. “Do you want her relaxed or not? You can’t make a girl cum if she’s scared of you. Unless she’s into that,” Kate replied. You tried to flick the water off of your finger tips as you took the joint with a shaky hand. “Are you into that?” Kate added, glancing at you. You nervously inhaled the joint, hoping whatever they laced it with would cause you to not remember this humiliating ritual. “N-Not on the first date no,” You sputtered, coughing as you exhaled.
Kate grinned at the sight, Toby kneeling beside the bathtub. You went to hand it back to her, causing her to shake her head. “I think you may need that. Let’s get on with it so goggles here can get his rocks off. Open your legs,” She commanded. You did as instructed, Toby eagerly shoving his hoodie sleeve up to his elbow. He used his right hand specifically, your fearful gaze not failing to notice his left was covered in bandages. You nervously inhaled the joint as Toby’s hand dipped into the water, awkwardly cupping your cunt. “Alright goggles you know where the clit is right?” Kate asked. You avoided eye contact as your face became red, the smoke leaving your lips. Toby rolled his eyes, cockily placing his thumb on your clit. “Y-Yes Kate i’ve seen p-p-porn,” He quipped. Kate glanced at you, finding your flushed face quite cute as you stiffened in the tub. “Alright genius go ahead and rub slow circles around it, get her to loosen up a bit,” She instructed. Without arguing he listened, causing you to unexpectedly whimper. Your body responded well to his touch to your surprise, your hesitation floating away with each full circle he did. “Good job, now go ahead and put a finger in there. You needa make sure she can hypothetically adjust to your size. Not that I think there’s much to worry about,” Kate guided. With his spare hand Toby playfully slapped her leg, before doing as instructed.
This time you groaned, feeling his single digit exploring your walls. “Hear that goggles? Thats what we wanna hear. Add another one,” Kate continued. You felt a slight stretch as he added in a second finger, your walls clinging to him. “Now do a scissoring motion,” Kate added, accepting the joint as you passed it to her. You could feel the drug swirling around your lungs, your body relaxing and becoming content in the tub. “A s-scissoring motion? T-that sounds fuckin s-stupid,” Toby bickered. You tried to grind your hips against the brunettes hand, your core now throbbing with desire and desperation. “Do you see how desperate she is goggles? Get with the program. Jesus, nevermind. Just curl your fingers,” Kate sighed, before inhaling the joint. You gasped as he did so, curling perfectly against your g spot. You involuntarily moaned his name, becoming even more embarrassed once you had realized what you had done. “See goggles? Thats what you’re supposed to hear. Go faster,” Kate ordered. Toby seemed to understand, his own cheeks turning pink as he curled them faster inside of you.
Your gummy walls came to life, clinging onto his slender fingers as he abused your g spot. You gripped the sides of the tub, the high only increasing the euphoria the awkward brunette was providing. He could feel his cock growing harder in his pants, tucking his bottom lip in between his teeth. Your moans bounced off the walls of the bathroom, the sound so sinful you refrained from thinking of anyone hearing it. “There we go, now she’s starting to loosen up. Keep rubbing the circles. That’ll push her over the edge,” Kate instructed, continuing to smoke the joint as she watched the pornographic scene unfold. Once Toby had the green light it made him go faster and harder, abusing your g spot with his fingers as he watched you come undone for him. Your eyes landed on his, the two of you entranced with the other as he finger fucked you. “F-feel good?” Toby asked. You licked your dry lips, forcing yourself to form a coherent sentence. “So good, please don’t stop,” You whined, his fingers relentless as he played with your cunt.
You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sides of the tub so hard. “You see goggles sometimes she’ll need a little extra push to cum. Let me help,” Kate offered. You watched her flick what was left of the joint aside, before her pale hand wrapped itself around your neck. You audibly gasped, your gaze flickering to her. “Nuh uh kid. Don’t look at me. Look at him while you cum on his fingers like the good little slut you are,” Kate hissed. You whined as her fingers restricted your airway, your vision seeing spots and stars as your hips grinding against Toby’s hand. You tried to obey Kate’s command, maintaining eye contact with Toby as your orgasm crashed down over you. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling and splashing the water as you came. Your thighs attempted to shut, Toby’s hand refusing to leave your cunt. Kate chuckled as she released your throat, allowing you to breathe fully. As you inhaled the duo exchanged looks before returning their gaze to you.
“You didn’t think that was it did you? Goggles needs a full lesson and that was just the start up.”
#creepypasta#creepypasta smut#creepypasta lemon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x female reader#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#marble hornets#masky marble hornets#ticci toby x you#ticcy toby x you#jeff the killer x ticci toby#eyeless jack x ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby smut#ticci toby#kate the chaser#kate the chaser smut#kate the chaser x reader#kate the chaser creepypasta#slenderman’s proxies#the proxies#proxies#slender proxy#creepypasta proxy#ticci toby x y/n#ticci toby x kate the chaser
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thinking about sinister mark and sigh.
hopping on the bandwagon. i have some choice Thoughts about him that id like to air out.
(keep in mind that i am NOT A DARK BLOG!!! stuff i say in this post is Very close to toeing the line of being borderline SCARY TO ME. im a soft bitch) also no non/dubcon bc consent is important to me.
minors dni with this post cause it gets a little spicy under the cut..
these dark blogs kinda make me see the sinister mark vision.. like..... theres so many possibilities when it comes to him
CW: he eats you out while youre on your period + more. it gets bloody.
that is a man who KNOWS what he wants and GETS it. so desperate and borderline animalistic about you that when he rushes in a blur to pin you to a wall, it cracks. muttering and panting in your ear about what hes about to do to you, and you just know both of you wont make it out of this without blood being involved. hes pressing up against you, still in his stupid suit. smooth as the material rubbed against your back, stinking with his sweat.
hed start out considerably gentle with it, hands shaking from holding himself back from the worst of what he was fantasizing of doing to you. pinning you hips down to keep you from squirming despite your quips about you being on your period. he'd lick his lips, his heart racing even faster when he pulls down your pants. even better, he rasps, dragging his hands down your thighs and leaning in close between them. you couldnt see his eyes through how opaque and dark his goggles were, but you could tell his eyes were blinking heavily with lust just to swallow you whole without remorse.
and maybe you let him, spreading your legs for him. like a bunny letting a wolf clamp its jaws around the other's neck. he was going to drain you dry.
he wastes no time eating you out, lips and tongue working at your sweet spots in the best way possible. something something his grip on your hips bruising you. something something he haphazardly spits on your clit as if it wasnt slick enough, the room filling with the biting scent of metal. mercilessly tonguing you even after youre finished, thighs squeezing around mark's head, unable to compose yourself when every nerve is ridden with overwhelming pleasure.
before you know it, youre forced on your hands and knees. a rough hand at the back of your head forcing your face down onto the bed when his tip rubs at your bloody, dripping entrance. he mustve ripped the crotch area of his suit off, you barely have time for the thought to process when he's hurriedly pushing his dick inside you, when the tip presses just a little painfully against your cervix, he relishes the squeak you let out, muffled by the bedsheets.
mark wastes no time with this, hips moving at a relentless pace, coaxing - no - forcing moans and squeaks from you as if he were pulling the pathetic sounds out of you with his bare hands. and his grip was a vice, merciless thing. though there was no relief when his hand lets go of the back of your head, arms shaking and struggling to prop yourself up. licking your blood off his lips, mark leans in, his chest pressing against your back. grunting in your ear. your eyes shoot open to the feeling of mark's teeth clamping harshly down onto your shoulder. you cry out, whether in pain or pleasure, you didnt know, but the harder his jaw clamped, you were sure it was some mix of both. your skin gave way, sharp canines piercing your shoulder like he was some feral dog. the small drops of blood that slithered from the wound were quickly lapped up by a rough, bloodthirsty tongue.
when both of you are finished, you dont stop leaking his cum from your hole for a whole day. you body is practically covered with livid bruises and bite marks. and whenever you see them in the mirror, you brandish them like its a shining, bright fucking gold medal.
#mark grayson x reader#mark grayson smut#afab reader#mark grayson x afab reader#ignore how clinically insane i am about him#i think to think im better than those dahmer fangirls then turn around and pull this#is it goofy that hes doing allat in his stupid ass suit? goggles and everything?#no set up. just sex.#hes the typa guy to ask you if youre ready to be a single mother
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smutty scarf-ish Shouta Saturday
notes/warnings: 18+; fem reader; general smutty behavior
On some of the many occasions that you found yourself being flattened against some sort of surface by your boyfriend Shouta, you had wondered if, rational and efficient man that he was, he intentionally approached sex in a way that allowed it to double as physical hero training.
Not that you were complaining if he did...
Surely there was no woman in the entire country who spent as much time hoisted up and pressed into walls and doors as you. Shouta was not one for variety, which, you supposed, he didn't really have to be, given that he left you a quivering, sobbing mess of pleasure every single time. Nor was he a subtle man: thanks to his goggles, he'd never really learned to school his eyes, and a sharpened, predatory gaze was his obvious tell.
Not that the advance warning mattered--you were never, ever quick enough to give him a good game of chase. It was not a challenge for him to wrap you in that scarf of his (oh darn!) and drag you toward him. He would only release you after you promised to be a good girl and obey whatever filthy command--"Take off your fucking panties" or "Strip faster" were some of his favorites--struck his fancy. Then, while your head was still swimming from the absolute hotness of his voice, he would grab you and lift you up, always with the order:
"Wrap your legs around me. Now."
How could you refuse?
He'd hold you up with just one arm and his upper body while he undid his own pants. You knew that he would have taken the time to prepare you if actually necessary, but you were always soaked for him at this point and, truth be told, you loved how Shouta just fucking took you with no nonsense and no fuss.
When he was like this, you were his cute little doll: your only job was to keep your legs wrapped around him and to grab onto his incredibly hot and muscular back while he did all the work. And it really was a hell of a workout. Aizawa would grunt and sweat as he thrust into you in the most animalistic way, achieving an absolutely feral pace as his cock hit you at just the right angle, finding all the most pleasurable places inside of you, making you feel deliciously, impossibly full.
He was always merciless, relentless, unyielding: you were guaranteed to be pleasured more times than your poor little mind could count, often to near-overstimulation.
When Shouta was done with his exertions, his switch always flipped: he would gently ease you down, cradling you in his arms, letting you entangle your fingers in his pretty dark hair, kissing your neck gently, muttering little devotions that made him blush to say, and reinforcing that you were the luckiest woman on earth.
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let me see you
riddick x afab!reader
NOT MY GIF! NOT MY CHARACTER!
Warnings: juicy smut, no use of yn, not mentioned so you can choose to ignore this but they are married
No part two
you fumbled with the lock as you rushed inside your apartment. The lock wasn't a hard one, the thing that made it difficult was the man at your neck leaving a hot trail along your shoulder.
You almost dropped the key in your haste, but quickly fitted it in the lock when teeth sunk into your neck.
Turning the key you both stumbled inside slamming the door behind you as he pressed you up against the wood.
his hands traveled up your sides under your shirt, the left cupping your breast the other unfastened your bra.
As soon as he unfastened it he pulled your top off dragging your bra after.
The cool air caught you off guard but his bare chest quickly replaced the air as he picked you up by your waist.
He continued sucking and biting as he pulled off your trousers and panties. His following after.
Soon you were both lying on your bed groping and kissing as you ground against his erection.
The darkness of the room was the only thing hiding you, although his goggles had long since been discarded and his silver eyes glimmered in the faint stream of light from the window.
He lined his shaft up with your entrance and slowly pushed inside, both of you moaning.
Soon he was balls deep in you, and he started moving the feral desire restricting him from coherent thought.
Wet sounds filled the room as he pumped into you.
His hands gripping your waist like a vise he took your left nipple into his mouth rolling it between his teeth, making you moan and gasp.
"look so beautiful like this," he murmured and you barely heard him. Glancing down at him in the dark the only thing you could see was his eyes luminescent against the black.
"wanna see you too!" You mumbled breathlessly.
Although you instantly regretted it when he froze pulling out of you making you whine in protest.
Then he was gone, you could hear his distant footsteps from the hall.
Then nothing, suddenly the lights flicked on and there he stood in the doorway with his goggles pulled back over his eyes, his cock still erect and dribbling precum.
"fuuuu-" you moaned warmth gathering in your belly as he slowly walked back over to you. Slotting himself between your legs.
"this better?" He asked biting your thigh as he pushed your legs up against your chest.
You nodded furiously as he slid his cock back into your cunt, your gummy walks squeezing around him. Both of you crying out in pleasure.
"what can't talk? I mean I knew I was good," riddick chuckles licking a stripe along your jaw, making you whimper.
You feel a familiar tightening in your abdomen as riddick continues to pound you into the mattress.
He presses your legs tighter against your chest and his cock grazes your g-spot making you moan and claw at his back.
"fuck," he moaned as you tightened around him. "So close doll."
You tried to tell him you were close but a particularly hard thrust sent you over the edge moaning and shaking as he fucked you.
Hot liquid met your finger tips as you dug at his back. Arching up off the mattress you clung to him as he came filling you with his hot seed.
"fuck doll," he grit his teeth and kissed up you neck but you stopped him.
"shit," you swore desperately pressing against the claw marks as they oozed blood. "Sorry."
"don't be it was hot," he smirked and stood making sure your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist before he turned the lights off removed his goggles and turned on the shower.
You simply scoffed and shook your head before your mouth attached to his and you let yourself get lost on the feeling of the warm water on your skin and his lips on yours.
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Female knight x lady - part one?
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
I've had this knocking around for ages, and I don't know if I'll continue it, but I fell in love with all the characters anyway and figured someone might enjoy it. It was based on a prompt that I can't find now, but ran along the lines of: "Female knight looking for a Lady to serve. Experienced in monster slaying."
Wordcount: 4149 Contents: Buff, tough, butch knight seeks employment from a local lady, featuring the ugliest horse in all the land, a dog named Muffin, and a brother who just wants his sister to be happy and safe... Fleetingly suggestive moments, but nothing super nsfw.
“Here goes nothing,” she sighed as she drove the nail into the village noticeboard with the pommel of her dagger and stepped back to look at her chicken-scratch writing. “Fuck,” she added as she glowered at it and saw the way her hand had smudged the bottom of it.
“Female knight looking for a Lady to serve. Experienced in monster slaying. Find me at the Bleeding Goat until the day after the Spring Equinox.” At least, if she squinted it still looked like ‘Spring Equinox’. If she didn’t, it looked like ‘Stink Jurybox’ or even ‘String Fairyfox’.
“Fuck,” she said again, and turned away. It would have to do. She didn’t have any more paper anyway.
And with that, she led her enormous war horse down the road towards the Bleeding Goat inn. Maggot was a vile mare by anyone’s estimation, but Vika loved her dearly. Built like a brick shithouse, with a shaggy, yellow-ish white coat, pink eyes, and a propensity for biting anyone who came within a three yard radius of her, the mare wouldn’t have won an equine beauty contest if she was the last horse in the land, but she was loyal to Vika, and could keep up a steady trot for days without breaking a sweat. She made a great windbreak too, if the need called for it, and her hooves were the size of a large buckler shield. Once iron-shod, they were lethal when she reared up or lashed out.
The ostler at The Bleeding Goat almost didn’t take her.
“Size of that beast,” he muttered as Vika led her into the fresh stall. “Looks like it might eat one of my donkeys whole if I turn my back!”
“She won’t trouble the others if they don’t trouble her,” Vika growled down at him.
“If you say so,” he said, giving her the once-over too as he looked back over his shoulder at her.
At six foot three, with broad shoulders, thick, wild, dark brown hair that resisted almost every attempt at combing, a jaw like an anvil and a glare to make a dragon nervous, Vika was only distantly aware of the little man, the way a lion might briefly take note of a mouse in the grass.
“Like horse, like rider,” he muttered as he shut the door on Maggot’s stall. He reeled backwards and tripped over his own heels when Maggot lunged for him, teeth bared, red eyes rolled to show the whites and her lopsided, wolf-bitten ears pulled right back against her matted mane. “Fucking hell,” the ostler yelped as he scrabbled to his feet. “Look after it yourself!”
“Suits me,” she said with a shrug. “You never gave me the chance to offer.”
“Bitch,” he spat as he slunk out of the stable yard, nursing a bruised backside and a wet patch where he’d fallen on the muddy ground.
“That’s ‘Dame’ to you!” Vika yelled after him. When he stopped and lurched back around to goggle openly at her, she offered him a cold, feral grin and tapped the pattern of embroidered lilies and swords on her padded brigandine with her thumb. “Dame Vika of Sharkshoal Point.”
“Right. Sorry, m’lady. Ma’am. Dame…”
She snorted and turned away just as Maggot whickered in a way that meant she was thoroughly amused with her own antics. Vika poked her in the chest and she stepped back from the stable door to let her owner in, and with practised movements that felt almost meditative, she had untacked the horse and rubbed her down with a handful of straw. The bran mash and oats she’d paid for were brought to her by a trembling stable lad who had stared up at her from over the stable door with wide eyes until Maggot had neighed with soft, enquiring interest and he’d practically flung it over the door and bolted for the kitchen door of the inn. Anyone might have thought Maggot was a roaring dragon by the way he’d reacted, but it was a common enough occurrence that neither mare nor knight paid it any mind.
Vika spent three days at the inn.
She took the time to sharpen all her numerous blades, not just the greatsword she usually kept sheathed on Maggot’s tack, and she even managed to acquire a needle and thread to darn up a few slashes in her padded brigandine. Her needlework wouldn’t have passed muster in the house of a lady, but delicate embroidery wasn’t the goal. She could make two pieces of fabric meet and stay together well enough, and that would have to do. She could also sew up a person if push came to shove, and she bore the scars of her own neat stitching in a number of places about her body as proof.
On the fourth day, while the lively little town was setting up for the Spring Equinox celebrations, a man entered the tavern’s common room and looked around, asking for the ‘female knight’ who’d placed the advert on the board.
She tensed but let the scene play out, watching as the cute serving girl flushed and pointed across the room at her.
The man turned and cocked an eyebrow when he looked Vika up and down, but he thanked Ella and wove his way carefully between the tables. He was wearing the practical garments of a labourer, with a long tunic that covered his hips and a belt around the waist, but the fabric was far finer than any Vika had ever clapped eyes on, and his fur-trimmed cloak looked soft enough to swaddle a baby. His boots were worn to the point of comfort, but not falling apart, and at his hip he carried a slender sword with a silver pommel.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he said with a polite incline of his head and an accent that betrayed him as nobility as surely as the gold stitching on his scabbard. “But are you the knight who placed the advertisement on the noticeboard? You’re looking to serve a lady?”
“I am,” she said, blunt and direct as ever. “Vika,” and she stuck out her hand to him.
He shook it without hesitation and revealed a strong, firm grip. “Lord Roland. Brother of the Lady Elayne Drummond,” he added with a friendly twist of his lips.
He was attractive, for a man, with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes and russet brown hair that fell in easy waves around his ears to brush the fur of his cloak. He had a short beard that was well-maintained, and his skin had the healthy glow of one who had never missed a meal a day in his life and spent much of his time out of doors.
“May I sit?” he asked, eyeing the chair opposite hers across the table.
She glanced down at the throwing knife she’d been in the process of sharpening, and at the black grime that coated her fingertips and around her nails from the oil and the whetstone, and felt a touch of shame beside his immaculate appearance, but she nodded all the same. “Sure. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?” she offered.
He smiled at that and nodded. “The ale here is the best in town,” he said, looking over his shoulder and beckoning over the serving girl with dark eyes and curly, black hair.
“M’lord?” Ella chirped and then shot Vika a smile. She’d flashed her the same smile on Vika’s first night, and again when Vika had made it clear in which room she was staying, should the young woman feel like joining her when she’d finished work. Ella had, and she’d fallen apart with the same glorious light in her eyes under Vika’s mouth and with her fingers buried deep inside her. They’d not met since, but they’d been easy in each other’s company ever since.
They ordered their drinks, and Roland turned back to Vika, resting his forearms on the table. “I suppose I should ask the reason you’re placing advertisements on public noticeboards instead of serving with the king, or even the knight who gave you your title to begin with.”
“A fair enough question,” she shrugged. “He died. Of old age, mind you. I served Gwilym of Sevenoaks from the time I was first raised to the order until two years ago. After his death, I decided to travel. Found myself here, and decided it was time to find myself a new place to roost.”
“Your advertisement said you’ve slain monsters…?” he asked just as their tankards arrived.
“Thanks,” Vika murmured to Ella as she slid it across the table to her, and then looked up at Roland and shrugged. “Yeah. But nothing that didn’t deserve it first, you know? There was some sick fuck who was kidnapping maidens to feed to a dragon, so I went to the dragon and found out what was really going on, challenged the fuck to a duel, he ran, I put an axe through his skull before he’d cleared the trees. Then there was a vampire that had gone feral back near Reaver’s Canyon, and she refused to let me chain her up til the bloodlust faded. Went into full shift, came at me, and went for my neck —” she bared the side of her throat to Roland where the skin was puckered. “Near tore me open with her fucking claws, but I staked her and that was that. Cauterised it with my own dagger. Nearly fucked up the temper on it too,” she added as an afterthought.
Roland cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, and she wasn’t sure if he was impressed or uncomfortable. Again, that wasn’t an uncommon reaction for folks to have to her.
“Right. Well, you clearly know what you’re doing…” he said in his clipped, aristocratic tone. “I do have one more question.”
“Ask away,” she said and drained a third of her tankard in one go. “Ah, fuck me, you’re right. That is good.”
“Right,” he chirped again, shuffling slightly in his seat. “My sister is… Well… She’s… She’s a lady… you understand…”
“Sisters of Lords usually are,” Vika growled. “What’s your point?”
“Quite, but… while your… um… your deeds are certainly impressive — and if you say you served with Sir Gwilym, I can’t argue that he knew good character when he saw it — I must say that your language is… uh…”
“Unbecoming of the knightly order?” she said. “Don’t worry. I can hold my tongue when I have to. I’m just tired and a bit run down. I apologise. I can watch my mouth, if it offends the lady.”
Roland blushed. “You know, it probably wouldn’t offend ‘the lady’, if I’m honest,” he sighed. “It’s just… Well, you understand. Decorum and all that.”
“Yeah, I get it. So is there an opening at the castle or not?”
He nodded. “I think you’ll fit in just fine, but as a formality, I’d like to extend a trial period to you.”
“Oh, Roland,” she grinned over the rim of her tankard. “Never give a knight the challenge of a trial.”
His answering smile went all the way to his big brown eyes, and he raised his own tankard to her. “I look forward to meeting you in the lists, Dame Vika.”
She snorted and drained her ale. “Ready when you are. Just need to grab my horse and my gear.” Roland slid two coppers onto the table and she frowned. “Thought I said I’d pay?”
“I’m the one interviewing,” he shrugged as he stood and made his way past Ella to the door. “You can leave a tip if you like.”
“Oh, I already tipped her,” Vika purred, sliding a silver coin into Ella’s palm while the young woman blushed prettily and tried to hide a smirk behind a dip of her head. “Bring my saddlebags down to the stables, love? They’re all packed up in my room,” she asked before following him towards the stables.
A magnificent black palfrey, still wearing his gleaming tack, stood in the stable next to Maggot’s, staring wide-eyed and stock-still at the mare with a look of abject horror on his face so comical that Vika guffawed when she saw him.
“That’s…your horse?” Roland asked as he saw Vika hang her arms over her mare’s stable door and dangle her hands in a ‘come here’ gesture at the mare.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I know. Before you say it, we’ve heard it all before. But she’s everything to me, alright? Wouldn’t trade her for a high-stepping prancer like that for the world.”
Roland’s horse snorted, offended.
“Fair enough,” he said, and swallowed thickly. “Come on, Lancer.”
Vika rolled her eyes and hefted her own saddle off the rack near the door and slung it over the stable door. She tacked her mare up in silence and led her out into the yard to mount up after Ella brought out her saddlebags and Vika winked at her just to watch her blush again. “Thank you, love,” she said. Damn, but the girl was pretty.
Ella rested her hand boldly on Vika’s thigh as she looked coyly up at her and said, “It’s been a pleasure, m’lady.”
The ride to the castle took twenty minutes, and passed through some of the loveliest countryside Vika had ever seen. Deer scattered from a nearby field into the oak and beech trees on their right, and as they urged their horses into a canter, Maggot threw in a little buck of happiness and Vika laughed, patting her neck as she sat it with familiar ease.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” Roland said as they continued to canter, his palfrey slightly in the lead and looking wary about the lumbering beast a pace or two behind him, “But how did you come by a horse like… that?”
Vika looked down at her mare’s boulder neck and shoulders and sallow, flaxen mane, listening to her dragon snorts as she heaved up the hill. It sounded like a hell of a lot of effort, but she could outlast any fancy racer once the quarter mile marker had been passed. She wasn’t fast, but hell, she had endurance.
“Saved her from a slaughterhouse,” Vika called above the wind in their ears. Her own long hair streamed behind her, probably tangling into an even worse bird’s nest, but she couldn't have cared less after days cooped up in the tavern. She’d expected to have her advertisement ignored, and simply to move on while the town celebrated equinox, but this was infinitely more attractive.
Roland’s horse put on a sudden spurt of speed, nudging from canter to a ground-chewing gallop, but Maggot just ploughed on at the same stubborn canter, pounding her great hooves into the soil until Roland sat back in the saddle and his fancy prancer slowed with a frustrated toss of his head. “A slaughterhouse?” he asked.
“Yeah. They thought she was far too ugly to make a destrier, and too mean to make a carthorse. I took one look at her and bought her. She was a year old at the time, and already built like a siege engine. She could teach mules about being stubborn too.”
“Something I sense you two have in common?” he said, and because he said it not unkindly, Vika laughed.
“You got me there,” she said with another laugh. “So what’s your sister like? And why is she looking for a female knight, specifically?”
He slowed Lancer to a brisk trot, and Vika nudged Maggot up beside him, instinctively tugging the reins to one side when Maggot went to bite the destrier’s glossy, black rump on the way past.
“Ah, none of that,” she barked at the horse, and for once, the mare listened, plodding along like an aged plough horse.
“Elayne is…” Roland began, and then faltered, scrubbing his hand over his face. “She’s beautiful, educated, beloved…” he said, and Vika frowned. When he looked askance at her, he sighed and the weight of it dragged his shoulders down with it. “She’s miserable. Our father… well, he loved her more than anything, but he kept her penned in… like a bird in a cage. She can insult you in about fifteen different languages, but she’s got no experience of any of the places where they speak them. Not even of our own country, really.”
“Sounds lonely,” Vika offered, and not without some sympathy. She’d travelled, and she’d met her fair share of courtly folk before. It wasn’t all it was made out to be.
Roland nodded. “Yes. I think… now that father’s dead, she’d like to see something of the world.”
Vika raised her eyebrows. “And you want someone to go with her?”
“Precisely. We have contacts all across the land,” he said. “She’d never want for a place to stay, but it’s the in-between that worries me. There’s no disguising we’re a wealthy family, and if someone figured out who she is, she could be taken for ransom, or harmed, or… It doesn’t bear thinking about. I can’t go with her because someone would have to run our estates in her absence.”
“She manages that now then?” Vika asked and he nodded.
“Yes. Father taught her everything, and, to my shame, I never had much of a head for it; not the way she does. She’s a natural. I can manage though,” he added, cheeks heating. “It’s not like it’d fall apart completely without her, but… yes. She’s the one who manages the day to day of the castle and the estate finances.”
“I’m surprised she’s not got suitors lining up from the castle gates to Southport,” she snorted.
“Oh, she has,” he laughed.
“None of them good enough?”
Again, Roland barked a laugh. “Seemingly not. Look —” he said, and pointed with his gloved right hand as they rounded a bend in the road and the trees drew back a little way. “That’s Crow’s Nest.”
Vika followed his gesture and spotted the dark castle on the hill easily enough. “Impressive,” she murmured.
“Think your ugly mare can beat my Lancer to the courtyard from here?” he asked.
Maggot was already lurching forwards into a determined canter before Vika had processed the question. “What did I tell you about knights and challenges?” she yelled over her shoulder at him as they took off with an ungainly jolt.
Lancer, of course, was off like a hound after a hare a second later, his silky tail held high as an officer’s plume, but after a mile, he began to slow while Maggot just thundered on like a boulder down a mountain. Vika just sat forward a little in the saddle and gave the mare her head to set her own pace. They overtook Lancer on a corner by an oak on the last stretch and Vika yelled, “I hope they let us in without you, Prancer!”
“You’d just batter down the gates anyway!” he roared back, laughing.
Maggot won by a country mile, though mostly through grim determination and grit than anything else. Her sides heaved by the time she got to the barbican gate, and Vika was forced to sit back and ease her into a trot before the archers on the gate started to shoot at her.
Lancer appeared a few minutes later, his deep, black chest rimed with foam and his nostrils flared wide while Vika was still walking Maggot in a lazy circle just out of bow shot, and Roland shook his head. “Damn,” he laughed. “I’d love to see Maggot race Crocus.”
“Crocus?”
“My sister’s gelding. Don’t ask about the name — something to do with saffron and the fact that he’s probably the most orange horse you’ll ever lay eyes on. Open the gate!” he added in the same breath, and the portcullis rumbled up.
“Bit extreme, isn't it? We’re not exactly at war…” Vika muttered as the ironwood frame ground upwards into the bastion above and Lancer ambled in like he was the lord of the castle, not Roland. Maggot eyed the murder-holes with deep suspicion, and then followed the palfrey inside.
Roland shrugged. “There’s already been one attempt on both my sister’s life and my own since our father’s death,” he said, and all the jollity of the race evaporated from his handsome, boyish features. “Can’t be too careful.”
“Shit,” she hissed. “I can see why you’re not celebrating the Equinox here,” she commented, looking around and finding the castle bailey empty of all the accoutrements of celebration like a mummers’ platform and festive stalls.
“Not this year. We’re funding the festivities in the town though,” he said, “To make up for it. But we’re not hosting anything here. Elayne is devastated,” he added as he sprang lightly down from Lancer’s saddle and loosened the girth while a stable hand strode over to greet them. “And very angry with me.”
“Careful,” Vika advised as a second stable hand approached her. “She’s… not the friendliest.”
“Right…” the young man chirped, faltering. “Uh… you want to lead her in then?”
Vika saw her mare settled and rubbed down, and when the stable hand promised to feed her in an hour’s time, after the strain of the race had faded from her body, Vika relaxed a little. He did know what he was doing after all. “Don’t shut yourself in there with her though,” she advised him while the mare rolled her red eyes at them, and the young man nodded.
She hooked her saddle bags over one arm and strode after Roland to meet him at the castle entrance.
The next few hours passed in a blur, but after she’d bathed and been given a new set of clothes, which not only fitted her but actually suited her, by a tailor who seemed to have magicked them out of thin fucking air, Vika meandered down towards the great hall.
A massive wolfhound lay sprawled across the doorway ahead of her, and just as the sole of her boot touched the marble entrance hall floor at the base of the stairs, a young woman emerged from a doorway on the other side, and the wolfhound looked up. His shaggy, bull whip tail began to wag and he whined and wriggled on the floor like a puppy as the woman approached, unaware of Vika’s presence behind her on the stairs.
“Oh, Muffin!” she giggled, kneeling beside him and playing with his ears and his bearded chin.
Her dress — a silvery, iridescent blue that shifted as Vika stared at it — pooled around her like a cloud on a summer day, and Vika watched as the dog floundered into a sitting position and tried to lick the woman’s face. She leaned back, laughing, and then caught sight of Vika as she turned her face away.
Vika, a woman who rarely found herself without retort or reposte, stood speechless as the young lady looked up at her and parted her lips in a soft ‘oh’ of surprise.
Vika was no stranger to beauty. From milk maids to marquesses, she’d seen it all, but this woman, with her smooth skin and warm, honey-coloured hair coiled up in pearl-studded waves, her flowing silk dress and bright, blue-grey eyes, gave new meaning to the concept of beauty. “Fuck,” she breathed, too quite for the lady to hear.
“Hello,” the lady smiled. The dog had gone still and was staring at Vika as though he was still deciding whether to launch himself at her or let her approach. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” And with that, she rose like a dancer and crossed to her.
Standing in front of her, she was a foot shorter than Vika, but as she looked up into Vika’s face, the urge to kneel, to bow her head and give every shred of her soul to the woman surged so strongly in her chest she almost wept. Swallowing thickly, she managed, “Dame Vika. Of Sharkshoal Point.”
Something cleared in the woman’s face and she smiled so delightedly that Vika felt lightheaded. “You’re the knight my brother found!” she beamed.
Unable to do aught else, Vika bowed her head. “I am, Lady. If you’ll have me.”
“That remains to be seen,” she grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I hear you beat my brother in a race today,” she added and turned towards the great hall behind her. “Perhaps you’d care to spar with him tomorrow?”
“Will you be there to judge us?” Vika asked before she could stop herself.
“I suppose I should be, shouldn’t I?” Elayne said, pausing and looking back over her bare shoulder. “If you’re to be my knight,” she added, and as her dark eyes raked the length of Vika’s body from boot to crown of head, Vika shivered.
“I’ll be your knight, Lady,” she promised.
Elayne smiled brilliantly, and Vika bit her lip.
___
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Parallels Chapter 8: Not a Monster
Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader
No use of y/n
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 5824
Summary: Miguel is lost in the multiverse and you're the only one that can possibly find him... but how? And what does it mean for your relationship?
Warnings: canon-typical violence, Slight Dubcon (Miguel is full feral but his advances aren't unwanted), ANGST, man pain, some self loathing, it's time to grow up and talk about our feelings... just a little. A/N: Electro is a silly, silly name and I couldn't take it seriously. You have my full permission to laugh at the fight scene.
Previous. Next
Series Masterlist
AO3
_______________
Chapter 8
Not a Monster
The Tower was practically empty this time of night. Your quick footsteps echo through the massive, vacant building, it was haunting.
You pull at your nanotech suit as you run down the long corridor. You’re still not used to the futuristic material. You had to rush out of your apartment, Lyla claiming there was no time to waste. You left a hastily scribbled note for Gwen and headed to the roof.
A new wave of panic rushes over you as you enter the dark hallway of Miguel’s lab. It felt wrong being here without him. Lyla hovered with you the entire time.
Miguel was missing. What did that even mean?
How the hell can you go missing when your energy signature is constantly tracked throughout all of time and space.
Lyla informed you of the situation as you ran. Miguel had gone after an Electro anomaly yesterday afternoon. He’d tracked it for hours through whatever universe it’d fallen into. It could teleport, making him extremely illusive. The last time they had a clear signal on his location he was engaged in combat then… nothing. He’d disappeared off the map for at least 10 seconds, then— he was everywhere. His signal was scattered to thousands of dimensions, each one indecipherable from being the real one. Lyla couldn’t reach him anymore. If she scanned them all at once she would crash completely, taking hours to reboot. She could only go through a few dozen at a time and her efforts were proving to be fruitless. Valuable time was wasted while she scanned through the multiverse at a snail's pace, so she called you in to help. You still had no idea why she called you of all people.
If Lyla, the all-knowing omnipotent AI, couldn’t find him, how the hell could you?
You walk to the center of Miguel’s laboratory, expecting to see dozens of spiders working tirelessly in front of computers to find him. Instead, you’re met with more silence.
“Lyla, where is everyone?” you ask, completely dumbfounded.
“What do you mean?” She glitches in front of you.
“Miguel’s missing. Don’t we have a team, like… working on this?”
“Not protocol,” she shakes her head, “At least, not for something like this anyway. We don’t want to cause panic. If we can solve this quietly, we will. In such a massive malfunction case like this, the lead duty falls to the architect.”
You furrow your brow, “Who the fuck is the architect?”
“That would be me,” A voice from overhead echoes across the cavernous room. Miguel’s desk platform begins to lower down. On top of it stands a man you’d never seen before. He was tall, tan-skinned, with messy dark hair and a lean build. He wore a set of goggles atop his head and loose-fitting clothes with an obnoxious striped scarf to top it off. You’ll never get 2099 fashion. No, you’d never met him before, but you recognized someone else in his features. That strong jaw, kind eyes, and pouty lips. This was undoubtedly Miguel’s brother, “Gabriel O’Hara. Gabe.”
You jump up to the platform and shake his hand, offering your name as well. “Why am I here, Gabe?”
He lazily raises his eyebrows at you as if annoyed by the question, “You can track Miguel through the multiverse.”
You have to catch yourself from falling on your ass. “Excuse me?”
“I told you to ease her into it!” Lyla blips in front of Gabe, several pixels flaring around her in anger.
“We don’t have time to ease into it. We barely have time for a crash course ,” Gabe waves her off and walks to a computer. With the click of a button, a massive projection takes over the room. Intricate weaving webs of red connecting together. Within the webs, hundreds of white dots are scattered. “One of these…” Gabe points to a white dot, “...is Miguel. The real Miguel. The rest are false readings. I don’t know what that thing did to his watch and we have no way of knowing which one is the real one. It’s like his signature was cloned and thrown around. Lyla said we wanna try do this quietly before we jump to rally the calvary, so that’s why you're here. Your connection with him can make you do that. You can track him.”
Your heart instantly sinks. He was talking a mile a minute to the point you barely understood him, but that last sentence rings in your head like a gong. He knew.
“I told him,” Lyla explains as she materializes in front of you. You wonder briefly if she can read minds, but your dread must have been painted all over your face. “It’s our last chance and I couldn’t just keep important information like this. He’s the only one that knows my system, he would have found out eventually. You could be our only hope if—.”
“I– I don’t understand—” You finally stammer out.
“Look, I don’t know how your bond thing works either but Lyla seems to think it’s the best chance we have. So, whatever you did to get him to...” Gabe’s rambling comes to a slow halt. He must have finally understood what you’re confused, blank stare was about. He sighs into his hand, “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
“Tell me what?!” You blurt.
“That’s why we should have eased her into it!’ Lyla palms her non-existent face.
“Fucking Migs. Tengo que hacer todo por aquí ,” Gabe mumbles as he turns back the control console. “Here. You might as well hear it from the horse's mouth.” A screen illuminates in front of you, Miguel in the center frame. It’s a recording, a timestamp and a date marked across the bottom. You recognize the date— That day after the Goblin Queen attack.
“New developments with the spider-sense connection,” He starts, his voice clinical and monotone. “While the sense was previously thought to be only triggered by close contact of various ranges, this is no longer the case. A response seemed to also be triggered by distress from the opposite party. I felt her while she was in her home dimension. This connection appears to be able to… transcend the multiverse itself.” He takes a moment to breathe into his hands. You share the sentiment. Your spider-sense can travel time and space? There’s just no way. You feel your legs buckle, catching yourself on the nearest chair. Miguel looks back up at the camera, “I went to her dimension last night. I just felt a… pull there. When we fought it was—”
Gabe stops the recording and you feel like you take your first breath since you got here.
The way you’d been feeling since this afternoon… you chalked it up to being too emotional over catching the Fisk’s and having nostalgia because of your great partner. Idiot, you should be able to recognize a spider-sense by now. Then again, if Miguel wasn’t there, what reason would you have to think it was?
A spider-sense that could stretch the multiverse? It didn’t sound possible.
“He’s not in the original dimension he started in, we know that much. We don’t know what was damaged,” Gabe continues, “I know we’re asking a lot but you might be our only option here.”
This was just too much. He says it all like it’s so goddamn easy. It must be an O’Hara trait, you think.
This was something that was so far beyond just you. The leader of Spider Society, the man with the answers to the multiverse’s fate rests in your hands. You want to scream. You want to fall apart and crawl into the closest dark corner and never come out— But you don’t have that luxury right now.
You’re Spider-Woman. You’d done more reckless things on less information dozens of times. Not necessarily a bragging point, but it helped you feel better at the moment. Miguel was out there somewhere. Amongst these thousands of scrambled dots, one was the real him— struggling and alone. You could feel him fighting.
Save Miguel first, yell at him for putting you in this position later.
Lyla materializes in front of you, a gentle expression on her face, “You can do this.”
So… How do you fucking do this? Your spider-sense was never something you actively thought about. It just happened, usually at the most inconvenient times. Maybe that was just it. You were thinking too much— You had to just let it happen. It’s as good a starting point as any.
You swivel to the center of the multiverse projection and take a deep breath, closing your eyes.
Gabe speaks, “What’s she—”
“Shut up!” Lyla instantly silences him in a hushed tone.
Several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. You feel the tension in your limbs melt away as the buzzing in your head becomes clearer— it was your guiding light. You’re not sure how to follow it, but if this thing was truly a part of you then it should come naturally… right? Your gut stirs, knowing somewhere out there your spider double needs you. Know that it may only be you that could save him. How poetic, you think.
You squeeze your eyes tighter, recalling those first feelings of the spider-sense. You’d never felt it before yet you knew exactly what it was. On top of that, you knew exactly what caused it. A completely alien sensation to your body yet you knew exactly what it wanted— You just knew. You weren’t naive about it anymore, you weren’t scared of it. You wanted to know its full potential. It was showing you tonight.
It starts like a faint pulse in your ears. A beacon. You open your eyes, taking in the thousands of twinkling white lights amongst the web of the multiverse. One of them is Miguel… the real Miguel. One calls to you.
You stand, walking amongst the projection. You step to the left, the pulsing fades— Colder. You continue to your right, following the rhythmic pull. You picture Miguel, everything about him. His face, his scent, the deep baritone voice— The pulse grows faster.
You recall the way he squeezes your hips when he makes love to you. His touch was always rough but somehow still caring and loving. Ironic how that encapsulates him as a person. A sheep in wolf’s clothing.
You come to a stop, one of the single blips seemingly shining brighter than the rest. Your sense jumps as you reach out for it. This had to be it. You tap the small projection, several screens expand with various information about the mystery universe.
Earth 774-b. A decimated world ravaged by wars long past. Almost no human population. What remained there was rubble, slowly being grown over with moss.
“This it?” Gabe steps to your side, looking over the schematics.
“It’s… what I felt.” You answer.
“Well, we wouldn’t wanna ignore a gut feeling,” He grumbles, jumping off the platform. He motions for you to follow— you do. Several small robots crawl to his aid, carrying various pieces of equipment. He comes to a work desk, rummaging several things out of the drawers, “Your watch, please.” He demands more than asks.
You extend your wrist and he immediately begins tinkering with the interdimensional device. He welds on a small bolt to the side, “This should protect it from any direct electromagnetic attacks. Wouldn’t want a repeat and have 2 missing spider’s on our hands.” He turns to one of the robots, grabbing a backpack it dutifully brought him. He reaches inside, grabbing a second watch, “This is for Miguel when you find him. I suspect his current watch is fried,” He drops it back in and pulls out another device. You recognize it as one of the force field traps, “This is for Electro when you find him. It’s specially made for someone of his abilities. You have 3 of them. Contain him first if you find him.” He hands you the backpack, “There are medical supplies and food and water rations. You have 3 hours before we send in backup. Stay in contact.”
And with that, he hands you the pack and walks back to the monitors. You feel like a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool. You don’t have time to think, you barely have time to breathe. After all your years of superheroing, you think you’d be more used to being treated like a soldier. In a lot of ways, you were still just a kid that got bit by a spider.
You put in the coordinates to Universe 774-b. Lyla appears at your shoulder as the portal bursts to life in front of you.
“If anyone can do this, it’s you.” She assures you. She probably recognized the fear in your eyes. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
You nod, your mask materializing over your face. You were Spider-Woman. This was just another Tuesday night for you—no big deal. You can do this.
______________
This universe had a distinctive scent you’d never smelled before. Like oil poured over fresh-cut grass. An entire planet that humans hadn’t touched for decades, but their crumbling cities and rusting machines still sat idle. Nature had already overtaken most of what remained in this dystopian New York— You hated it. It could very well be a bleak image of your home city. The thought makes you shutter and you push it to the back of your mind.
It was mid-afternoon. You’d been in the apocalyptic world for nearly an hour now, Lyla leading you to the largest energy signature in the vicinity— Smack dab in the middle of what used to be Time Square. With no technology on the planet, it wasn’t hard to find. Your spider-sense has been a quiet hum the entire time here, surprisingly. You thought it would jump and sing as soon as you entered this dimension but so far it remained tame.
It was starting to feel like a complete gamble on Miguel even being here.
What if your intuition was completely wrong? In the rush, you hadn’t even considered this could be all for nothing. A multiverse spider-sense tracker? Ridiculous. Miguel could have been wrong before. You could have just convinced yourself there was something special about this universe, surrounded by people begging you for an answer.
This could all be for nothing and Miguel could still be lost… or worse.
You push the intrusive thoughts down, not wanting to needlessly distract yourself from the task at hand. You had 2 more hours here and you were going to use them regardless. You were closing in on the energy signature.
You hear it before you see it. Distant electric crackling followed by crumbling bricks. Hope overtakes your growing anxieties. You swing up to the surrounding rooftops and peer down into the crumbling historic square. There in the open center of the towering buildings stood Electro, alone and fuming.
“ Come out! Come out!” He screamed, blasting an electric charge into the withering billboard for Phantom of the Opera. By the looks of the surrounding freshly charred buildings, he’d been at it for a while. “ Come out and fight like a man! ”
He was talking to Miguel. Taunting him… but where was he? Hiding or injured, most likely. You’ll find out soon enough. Even amidst the several revelations, relief washes over you. Miguel was here— somewhere.
You hadn’t seen an Electro like this before. Whereas most wore a green and yellow suit with an obnoxious lightning-decorated cowl, this man didn’t seem to even be completely human anymore. He still wore a skin-tight suit, but it was black. His skin glowed a translucent blue. You could see the energy flowing through him. It surged through his entire being, like blood through veins. He didn’t just have power over electricity— He was electricity. This was a being of pure energy.
That would have been nice to know ahead of time.
He abruptly halts his rampage, cocking his head to the side. Before you can react, a bolt shoots directly at you. It hits the bricks at your feet, sending you tumbling into the square. You catch yourself mid-fall and swing to the opposite end of the street. So much for the element of surprise.
You find a perch on a crumbling billboard a few stories above the square. Electro faces you, searing in anger.
“ You’re not him! ” His electronic voice crackles, “ Where is he?! ”
“Look, dude, I was hoping you could tell me.” The attempted joke is immediately met with another rage-fueled blast of energy. You’re able to dodge this time, swinging down another level. You expect another attack but instead, you see the villain fall to his knees, wheezing and shaking. He was exhausted, who knows how long he’d been at this stupid charade.
A realization hits you. He feeds off energy. It sustains him as well as his powers. There wasn’t anything for him to feed off of in this dead world. He was weaker— Significantly weaker. If there was a time to capture him, it was now. Gabe told you to contain him first before you hunted for Miguel.
You quickly grab one of the traps out of your bag. Not giving him a single second to regain himself, you pounce. You can end this now and find Miguel. Easy as pie.
But of course, it’s never that easy, is it?
You’re almost on him when he vanishes, and you stumble to the now empty ground— Teleportation. Right. He reappears behind you in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate to blast you again at point-blank range.
An electric field engulfs you, surging searing hot pain through every fiber of your being. You drop the trap amidst the chaos. You twist and scream in the field, unable to control your body’s movements. It takes hold of you as you're lifted from the ground by nothing but pure energy.
“ Your suit’s like his,” Electro laughs, “ Makes for a great conductor. Now let’s see that watch. ”
He knew about the multiverse watches too— Great.
You could feel the nanotech waving in and out of existence amongst the static. You desperately reach for the trap, trying to shoot a web or just bring it to your hand by sheer willpower. No such luck.
Even amongst the blinding pain, you felt something. The very thing you’d been praying for since you got here— A buzzing in the back of your head.
It happens in a flash. A rusted car is thrown towards you both, missing you by inches but dispersing Electro’s being into thin air. You drop to your hands and knees, taking in the biggest breath of your life. The remaining energy twitches through you as you stand back on your shaky feet. Your nanotech suit tames down back to its original design.
You look in the direction the car was thrown from— and there he is. Crouched on all fours with a mask drawn over his face.
“Miguel!” You shout, immediately running towards him.
“S-stay back!” He growls, a deep raspiness to his voice. You screech to a halt instantly. He didn’t sound normal.
“ Spider-Man! ” Electro materializes back above the square, arms outstretched. He couldn’t have much juice left. He was putting all he had left into this fight. “ And a Spider-Woman, my lucky day. I’ll kill you both and rip those dimensional travel devices off your cold dead bodies. ”
Miguel pounces immediately, swinging up to the floating menace. So much for making a plan. If Miguel had been stuck in this hellscape for nearly a day, you’re sure he was frustrated. He was lashing out without thinking— and it could be the perfect distraction.
They dance around each other in midair. Miguel effortlessly dodging lightning bolts and Electro weaving between webs. Their efforts were fueled by rage and exhaustion. You take the opportunity to scale the buildings rather than join in the fight.
Webs and brute force meant nothing if he could disappear at will. You had to be smarter than that. He just had to get close and you’d have him. Proximity was all you needed.
You perch yourself 10 stories up, at least half a block from the fight. You pull out your second trap. With how fast they were moving, they’d swing by you any second. As if on queue, you see Miguel’s head snap in your direction. His gaze shoots through you like a spear. You hold up the electric trap and wave your arm in a beckoning motion, you think he gets the message. He swings the fight around, moving directly for you.
Keeping Electro’s focus on him, they swing in front of you. You have a split second to react. Electro’s back to you, you jump. He’s only a dozen or so feet away from you and at a lower angle. You have the advantage.
You arm the device mid-air as you lunge closer. Once directly above him, you release it. The trap locks on to its target and begins webbing glowing red beams around Electro. It entangles him, trapping him inside an impenetrable force field. Trapped, he plummets back to the ground. You swing down to follow, flanked closely by Miguel.
He tumbles to a jarring stop inside the makeshift prison cell.
“ What is— ” He stands, touching the glowing red walls. He’s immediately zapped away from the containment field. Enraged, he attempts to blast through it, only to have the electricity immediately returned and ricochet around the containment cell. He continues to rampage despite the repeated results.
“Lyla,” You say into your watch, setting the coordinates for Spider Tower, “Take him in.”
“Aye, aye,” The AI replies, a portal forming directly beneath the red cage. Electro drops out of reality in an instant.
You turn to Miguel, only to find him several yards away with his back turned to you. His posture isn’t normal, he’s hunched over and twitchy. You can hear him dragging in ragged, growling breaths. He was tired. He’d just been through a traumatic event for all you know.
“Lyla,” You say into your watch again. “Tell Gabe I’ve found Miguel, but just… give us a minute.”
“Don’t be too long,” She responds. Even though she’s artificial, you think you can hear a sense of relief in her voice. The crisis was averted. Miguel was safe— you think.
“Mig?” You step towards him, cautiously reaching out.
“I said,” His head flinches to the side, sleek mask dissipating. “ Stay away! ” He slashes at you, baring his teeth and claws. His fangs, you’d never seen them before. His eyes were completely taken over by crimson red. His features were contorted and angry. He crouches down, resting his weight on his hands. He was trembling— Holding something back.
His power dampeners— oh, you absolute idiot.
Amongst the chaos, you’d all somehow completely forgotten the thing Miguel desperately needed to stay cognitive. The very thing that keeps a side of him at bay. He hadn’t dosed himself in nearly a full day, and the animal was taking hold. He was agitated. Volatile. Your spider-sense rings through you like a warning— or, something else?
This was not the same Miguel you knew.
A glitch shakes through his being. His watch was damaged, unable to regulate his unstable atoms in the alien world. He comes out of the glitch raging, clawing at the surrounding rubble. Anything and everything was his target. He throws more cars, he slashes street lamps in half. So, this is what happens when he doesn’t take his dampeners?
“Miguel!” You scream over the chaos. He halts his rampage, staring you down. Those eyes were absolute daggers. You speak calmly “I have a watch for you. Let’s get you home and get you taken care of. It’s over. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Taken care of,” He repeats. His animalistic voice sends chills down your spine. He stalks toward you, you don’t move. Even hunched over, his height still dwarfs you.
You take out the backup watch and drop your bag to the side. The spider-sense hummed in anticipation. You’re not sure if it’s telling you to run or stand your ground. Regardless, you reach for his arm. Just get the watch on him, and you can go.
He grabs your wrist so quickly you don’t even register the movement. He pulls you against him. You feel yourself shrink in his grasp, and your spider-sense sings. He brings your wrist up to his face, trailing his nose down your arm with a deep inhale. He stops at your neck— you feel his fangs graze the soft flesh there. It sends a wave of heat straight to your core.
Why weren’t you scared right now?
“ Mi añarita. Me encontraste,” He growls against you, sending all your hair on end, “ ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí?”
He brings you down to your shaking knees, crawling on top of you. His massive limbs cage you in. You could easily scurry out of it— away from him, but you don’t want to. You could feel it building as you had dozens of times before. He could take you right here and you’d revel in it.
It takes every fiber of your being to push down your building urges. Not here. Not now— He could be hurt and starving for all you know. You had a mission. Get Miguel home, despite what your selfish desires wanted.
His guard is lowered, distracted by his primal impulse. You were completely on your back while he hovered over you. You take the opportunity to hit the home button on his backup watch, opening a portal directly behind your head. You raise your feet to Miguel’s stomach, kicking him over you into the portal before he can fight back. He needed his meds. You had to get him back now, like it or not.
“Lyla!” You scream into your watch, jumping through the portal as well, “Tell Gabe to get his dampeners ready! He’s on edge and we’re coming in hot.”
You fly through the dimensional wormhole, trailing only feet behind Miguel. He thrashed and spun as he was shot through the fabric of time and space itself. You take advantage of the rolling zero gravity environment and start to web him up, subduing his violent movements. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Simple webs couldn’t hold him for long but they’ll have to do for now. You had to get him back and everything could be taken care of.
You both fly out of the portal, tumbling over each other on the lab floor. Miguel roars as he struggles against the webbing, several strands snapping in the process. He stands, whipping himself around violently, his arms are nearly free.
A small neon green dot flashes across your vision. A dart filled with his dampener serum sinks into his neck. He collapses to the ground instantly. You turn to see Gabe holding a tranquilizer gun.
“Three times the dose with a little bit of sedative,” He places the gun on a nearby table, “Sorry about that, his… condition completely slipped my mind.”
“Yeah, mine too,” You groan, picking yourself up off the floor. You look at Miguel laying there, subdued and face still contorted in anger. You have the urge to wail over the sight. You did this to him. You want to reach out to him, take care of him. He’s in pain and you—
You immediately head for the door, feeling your spider-sense threatening to make your emotions boil over.
“He’ll be up in a few minutes!” Gabe shouts after you.
“Just need some fresh air,” You call back, picking up your pace.
___________
You sit on the walkway outside of his room for nearly an hour. You dangle your feet over the cavernous edge, looking down at the vast multi-hundred-story tower. There wasn’t a single spider inside now. Gabe had left about 20 minutes ago, wishing you a good night and thanking you for your help. You tell him the same and that was that. Miguel’s brother, the architect of spider-kind… You wonder what his background role was the rest of the time. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.
You don’t know why you haven't gone home yet. You wanted to but… something was keeping you here. You wanted to make sure Miguel was okay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in to see him either. You wanted to… but you wanted to give him time. Hell, you needed to give yourself time too.
You felt another urge from the spider-sense tonight. The need to protect. To soothe and subdue. To save your— You were getting too close to him. Too close to all of this, and it scared you.
You wonder if Miguel remembers. If he has any semblance of control when the spider side takes over. He seemed to, if only just barely.
“Hey,” A familiar calming voice pulls you from your thoughts. Miguel stands behind you— The Miguel you knew. The man with kind eyes and rigid posture. The sight of him instantly puts you at ease. “You didn’t come inside.”
“I wanted to but… It felt… It was a lot.”
“Yeah…” He sighs, taking a seat next to you— the understanding is completely mutual, you know that by now. “You saved my life today. I won’t forget it.”
“Don’t mention it,” You look down at your feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.
“I mean it. Thank you," he insists. You give him a faint nod and a smile. You want to ask him about it, about the animal inside him. About the spider-sense and why he didn’t tell you about its full capabilities sooner. About his brother, “I’m sorry.” He says instead.
“About what specifically?” you ask, coming off more irritated than you’d like to.
“How about everything?” His words cut through you like a knife. You felt his guilt behind them, “Sorry you had to come here, sorry about Gabe, sorry you had to clean up my mess, sorry you… had to see me like that.”
You could hear the regret in his voice. Miguel O’Hara sincerely apologizing, you should get a camera.
“What happened to start all this?” you ask.
“It was a routine mission,” he starts, “He showed up in a populated area in a separate dimension. I thought it would be a quick grab. I underestimated him… drastically. You saw him, he could disperse his form at will. He could connect to any technology— Any machine. He got into my watch… to Lyla. I had to cut my connection.”
Untold horrors could happen if a desperate villain got a hold of Lyla— a hold of the power of the multiverse. It was a scary thought.
Miguel continues, “He fried my watch’s power by the time we landed. Thought I caught some luck when we landed somewhere he couldn’t recharge.”
“Your signal was copied over a thousand realities,” You inform him.
“He scattered it looking for a way out, sending us both flying through the multiverse. When I cut off my connection, he was booted out of the system.” He clarified, “Didn’t want him to know where the home base was, anyway. Turned out to be a good thing, I think. Didn’t really consider myself at the time. I just had to keep him out. I would have figured something out eventually. I just had to outlast him.”
“Made a lot of work for me,” You grumble, jokingly. You bring your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me… That we could do this? Sense across the universe.”
He takes in a heavy breath, running his hand through his fluffy hair, “I thought it was a complete fluke. I thought I felt something and it turned out you were in a fight. Or maybe even a coincidence. Or if it was something, at least it only pertained to me. I’m… different from you. I had a shaky hypothesis. I should have tested it more. I’m sorry.”
Two apologies? You really should get that camera.
“Did you feel me too, tonight? Across the universe?” you ask.
“Not until you were there. My mind wasn’t— I wasn’t—” He looks away, ashamed. You stomp down the urge to reach out and hold him. You don’t want to overstep a boundary. Did you even have those kinds of boundaries with him anymore? “If you ever have to see me like that again, you have my full permission to stop me… By any means necessary.”
“Miguel, it’s—”
“By any means necessary,” he repeats, tension dotting his words.
You could feel his self-loathing in his words. His hatred for this part of him. He was disgusted with himself. What he had done— what you both had almost done. You wanted him so badly in that moment back in the dystopian world, your spider-senses battling each other for it. You felt a little disgusted with yourself too.
The only other person in the multiverse that could understand was sitting right next to you, and you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything.
You wanted to be his friend. You wanted this man to know he could talk to you completely judgment-free— and you knew you had to be the first one to take the step. You couldn’t keep each other at arm's length while still sharing these deeply intimate and personal things together.
You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. There had to be a compromise. You had to tell him you cared about his wellbeing— if only a little. You needed to.
“I know you don’t feel like you can always rely on people, Miguel,” You begin, feeling his gaze drill into you, “I know you think you have to hold it all together yourself. That’s just part of being a spider… being a hero. But if that were true you wouldn’t have built this place. Even with all the help in the known universe you still think you’re the only one you can count on. Think about that.”
You stand, taking a few steps down the walkway. You take a deep breath before continuing “You’re not just a man but not a monster either, Mig. And you’re not alone. Remember that next time you treat yourself like you're expendable.” A portal to your dimension opens. You pause before stepping through, “I would do everything I did tonight again. I’m glad you’re okay, but don’t scare us like that again. Lyla was worried sick at the thought of never seeing you again.”
And so was I.
His somber expression is the last thing you see before stepping into the multiverse.
__________
Translations: Tengo que hacer todo por aquí.- I have to do everything around here. Mi añarita. Me encontraste. ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí? -My little spider. You found me. Have you come to take care of me?
And as always, let me know if I'm making a complete fool of myself, Spanish speakers! I appreciate anyone who comes in to help out with it!
__________
Taglist:
@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf
#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara smut#parallels fic
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PART 3/3
Part 1 ,, Part 2
Mooch
Personality Headcanons: She is NOT "Teehee :3" she's the kind of girl to show up to your house and commit arson. She's feral, she's dangerous, she's killed 4 people. She was probably arrested for murder and was doing community service to get out early when she got recruited for TF4. You could say she's a little..... nuts :D Physical Headcanons: I don't really have any. ~5" Gender: Puts female on legal documents but always says something different when asked for her gender. Things like "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" or "Ur mom." or "Whatever keeps you busy while I rob you." Pronouns: Any she doesn't care. Orientation: I don't have one. Post Game: She probably wasn't impacted much if at all. Opinions: She's a really funny side character. I adore cute characters who are batshit insane. 3.5/5.
Moray Personality Headcanons: They're a Mettaton stan. They act like a kowkey k-pop stan. They make aesthetic Mettaton gifs, reads/writes x reader fanfic, etc. Because they don't like conflict they don't get into internet beef though. At first they really only joined Starlo's posse for the aesthetic but it turns out they actually really enjoy sword fighting so they stuck around. Because they don't really like fighting or conflict so they usually do all the office work and they don't mind. Physical Headcanons: None really. ~ 5'07" Gender: Nonbinary (Is this canon?) Pronouns: They/Them Orientation: I don't have one. Post Game: They where pretty sad finding out about Clover's passing. It impacted them just not as hard as some of the others. They where able to get back up pretty quickly. Opinions: Gender. But sort of bland in personality. 2.5/5.
Starlo (Okay he's my fave in this specific iteration so just bear with me)
Personality Headcanons: He tends to have a bad habit of avoiding his problems. He tries to keep himself busy so he's not alone with his thoughts for too long. If he has absolutely nothing to do, he sits outside with an acoustic to keep his hands busy. Spanish was his first language and he often mispronounces English words. His mother handmade most of his gabàns. When he was really young and still lived on the surface he loved looking up at the stars. When he was in middle school he had a phase where he hated humans but grew out of it. He was comphet with Ceroba in high school but she clocked him and broke up with him. They stayed friends for a really long time anyway. He's ambidextrous. He's Ceroba's age so ~40-43. A lot of people interpret his sprite as having shade over his eyes but I like to think of it like a bandit mask.... that's prescription. His safety goggles are also prescription. He's really near sighted. He's also a pretty solid horse rider. You can't tell me this man DOESN'T smoke weed idc. He listens to southern rock, country, latino rock, and classic rock.
Physical Headcanons: The parts of his face that stick out emote with him. They turn up when he's happy/excited. They go down when he's sad. They kinda >:|< when he's mad. From growing up doing farm work and then deciding to become a sheriff too he's in really good physical condition and could probably lift most people over his head. His eyes are completely white. He's covered in a thin lair of fur that he grows out in certain places (chest, arms, beard, etc.). Ed is really jealous of his beard. The longer his fur is the darker it gets. Yellow to green-blue to dark blue (looks black). Fangs because I said so. Gender: Cis man Pronouns: He/Him Orientation: Gay and somewhere on the asexual spectrum.
Post Game: He was absolutely devastated the days following Clover's death. He barely got out of bed. Ed had to be the one to get him to even eat anything. He was really out of it, sort of dazed, for several weeks while he just tried to get back to work. He was a little torn between continuing trying to be the town's sheriff or going back to being a farmer. So, until then he just helped his parents out with whatever they needed. As he did, he reconnected with his childhood. He looked back at the boy he used to be, but unable to forget about Clover, he never forgot about the man he wanted to become. Clover had been so excited to meet a real-life cowboy that it almost felt disrespectful to throw out that pipedream now. So, he tried to find a middle ground between the two. Some days he'd be up at the first crack of dawn working in the field and other times he'd be the figurehead of his town, keeping the peace and keeping spirits high. Eventually he managed to pull himself out of a continuous low mood. Because of that, he managed to clear his mind enough to move on through the stages of grief. He and Ceroba got into a fight over what had happened. He felt like he owed it to Clover to at least try. Finally ending on the note that his freedom wasn't worth the life of someone he viewed as his own flesh and blood child - unlike what Ceroba did to her child which really WAS her blood. Their long-time friendship came to a bitter end, and he found himself turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism for a few months before a heartfelt talk with Ace pulled him back to his senses.
At one point when he was working in the field his mother called him inside and said she had finally finished the gabàn she had been making for Clover - he had requested it several months or so at this point but forgot to tell her what had happened. Re-opening old wounds he told her what had happened. He kept the gabàn and keeps it on his guitar case. Like Martlet, it was probably another decade or so before he really felt like his life was starting to move on. He had only known Clover for maybe a couple weeks at most but losing them felt like losing his own kid. He didn't know how long Clover was planning to stick around but had full intentions to legally adopt them. He successfully managed to move on, but he never forgot them.
Opinions: Like I said before he's my favorite character in this specific game. He's that right mix of serious and silly that really scratches an itch in my soul. His design is peak, it just speaks to me. I literally remember yelling at my TV when his design got revealed because I loved it instantly. HOWEVER, I do think that maybe his character could have been written a little better. It's pretty clear he's a complex character but the way he was written I feel like didn't fully convey that. 4/5.
THAT'S ALL! HAVE A GOOD DAY!!
#undertale yellow#uty#starlo uty#moray uty#mooch uty#TUMBLR HATES MY TEXTWALL SWAG#I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT STARLO OKAY FIGHT ME TUMBLR PULL UP!!
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SHIT TON OF OC STUFF (for part 2)
Part 2 protags
Astor
Arcana: death
Any (they/them pref)
enby
Pan, demi
Powers and abilities: weather manipulation, can control weather and elements of it (think weather report from jojo without the snails). Incredibly proficient at close and long range fighting using knives and kicks, also has incredible quickness, agility and stealth
Appearance: a short young person with light brown skin and eyes with dark curly hair with bangs that almost always cover eyes. Tends to dress in baggy and androgynous grunge/streetwear like clothes. In their super suit they wear a large white hooded cloak, under they have pants with holsters for equipment and a tank top. They tend to be very blank faced, but some emotion does come though mainly in their eyes
Backstory: the second child of Avia and another character I have yet to write (yes I know she’s trans dont worry she can still do that bc reasons). When their parents got on the bad side of an incredibly powerful villainous dictator. The villain would end up getting revenge by imprisoning their father who was presumed dead, killing their sister and damaging their vocal cords beyond repair even by their mother. Filled with hopelessness and worrying that in grief that she’d hurt Astor, Avia ran away leaving Astor into the care of Jackson. Now in an incredibly emotionally volatile state which was not helped after a former friend and crush was killed in a fight, or at least they thought… Now they are a part of the rose program, a program made to monitor and help superhumans who could pose a threat to themselves or others.
Personality: many heroes assume astor a blank faced robot who feels and shows nothing, and many villains (who have not encountered them) assume they are a nepo-baby who never worked for anything and whines when things don't go their way. In actuality they are nothing more than an at-risk youth who has trouble expressing and processing their emotions (especially after losing their voice) and has trouble socializing and not shutting people out. In fights they move fast and efficient, but there are times when it gets too much and they start to lose control and go feral
Likes:
Art mainly wood carving, making clothing and cooking
Their friends (especially Fuapillon)
Jackson
Their memories of their father and sister
Rain
Music (mainly hip-hop and rap)
Cats
Dislikes:
their mom (kinda)
Alcohol
Crowds
Assumptions
causing harm and killing
The man who took everything
Not having control
Scary movies
Fuapillon (please let me know if this is a slur or something i just smashed together the french word for fire and butterfly)
Arcana: the lovers
they/she
transgender
Pansexual
Also french (gross i know)
Powers and abilities: increased processing. Their brain is able to take in and process information superhumanly fast. They have a knack for machines and mechanics that shines with her “armure de papillon” which are mechanical suits that tend to have incendiary attacks and incredible speed
Appearance: a very small young woman with dirty blond wavy hair (usually messy) and blue eyes. Usually Wears bright feminine summer clothes, biker wear and/or mechanic gear. In her super wear she wears a custom leather jacket (a gift from astor), goggles and tight spandex all with mechanical modifications that allows her to put on her suits. Her mechanical suits differ in appearance, but they always feature butterfly like elements and wings, and a red fiery color scheme
Backstory: born and raised in south france they were always a strange child with boundless energy and curiosity which led to them discovering and sneaking into a secret facility. After a mistake they ended up seeing something they shouldn't when they fell into a portal to the unknown. They were not expected to make it until they were mysteriously rescued. No one knows what they saw, but it was clear that it had a profound effect on their mental state. After a brief stint at a mental hospital they were taken to the rose program for monitoring and rehabilitation
Personality: a bright and bubbly woman who tends to talk and act at a mile a minute. They’re an adrenaline junkie. After the incident at the lab they have gained a weird obsession with fire and butterflies and sometimes will get really gloomy and whisper very strange and ominous things about fire, death and rebirth, but they have been doing it less especially after getting more help and support.
Likes:
Butterflies
Fire
Their armors
Their motorcycle
Friends
Astor
Rollercosters
Going fast in general
Halloween
Scary movies
Dislikes:
Not much
Tianming
Arcana: the emperor
he/him
cis/het but not beating allegations
Powers and abilities: mirror travel: can travel through any reflective surface of any size, if he wants to travel with or put a person or object in the mirror dimension the other person/object has to be able to fit. Mirror clones: can clone self with reflection as long as he is being reflected. The clones are fragile and will have noticeable differences. Has many gadgets to help fight as well as acrobatic and dance skills he uses to fight and confuse
Appearance: a shorter man of chinese descent with short black hair and brown eyes. His super suit is a traditional Bian lian costume with some slight modifications. Uses the masks to confuse enemies and add further effectiveness to his cloning power. He tends to wear
Backstory: grew up with his sister and abusive father. One day he had enough and he burnt down the apartment with his father inside. Soon after his sister was put into foster care, and he joined superhuman society where he became fast friends with astor. He would eventually find himself in an abusive relationship with a psychic where his mind was shattered, after recovery it was decided that he was left too mentally volatile and he was put into the rose program
Personality: a kind man and just a bro in general he wants the best for people, and likes to see the good in people which does lead to problems. After his mind was shattered he is prone to mood swings and outbursts.
likes:
Love
Dancing
His sister
His (second) girlfriend
His friends
Basically everyone else
Helping
Seeing people improve themselves
Baseball
Dislikes:
Evil
Feeling useless
Suffering
When his costume is too hot
Morgan
Arcana: the moon
she/her
Bi-curous
Powers: Crystallokinesis (earthbending with crystals). Specializes in long and range attack and defense as well as battlefield control, a little lacking in close range. Also strangely good at thrifting
Appearance: a taller girl who's on the chubbier side. fair skin, brown somewhat curly hair and purple eyes. Darker gothic fashion. Same gothic fashion carries over to super suit with a tighter armored spandex with a jacket and mask
Backstory: one of thee kids along with her twin sister and older brother. Her father was a villain (the same one who cut off Celestina’s arm) and her mother is a prison nurse that he seduced. Her and her siblings were adopted by Juliet and Celestina. Her brother was a model student and is a pillar of the new generation of heroes. She now feels a large expectation on her to be like him. One day for unknown reasons her sister snapped and attacked. In the fight she lost control and all her pent up emotions burst forward causing her to brutally “kill” her sister. She was put in the rose program filled with intense guilt for her sister, but her sister only feels rage back.
Personality: she is very gloomy and is very guilty and sad after her sister. Very sarcastic and kind of a jerk at times. Feels a large amount of pressure and stress from the society around her. Though at the end of the day she is a kind person with the heart of a hero, she just doesn't like to show it
Likes:
Fashion
Her brother
Her friends
Parties
Anime and manga (a secret she takes to the grave)
Singing
The beach
Pizza
shopping
Dislikes:
Expectations
People who don’t dress well
Weirdos
The L
The smell of piss (explains the above)
Overpriced clothes
Other part 2 things
Takes place on an island in lake Michigan with a small superhuman community and school.
All characters are in their senior year of school and are 18 (precautionary measure)
Takes place 20+ years after part one
Music theme is hip-hop, R&B and rap
I hope to release part3 MCs,more info on part 1, general worldbuilding and info on other important characters soon (look in ether comments or rbs also the tags under this one)
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When I Get Home (Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ Angsty One Shot)
"Can really love a monster like me?"
Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: In which Keigo realizes how truly lucky he is to have you by his side despite his refusal to open up to you and show you how deep his scars run, so he decides when he finally gets home from his stupid fucking mission, he’ll show you his scars, his heart, and everything more.
Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS; Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Angsty Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Mentions & Use of Marijuana; High S*x; Shower S*x; Possessiveness; Scar Appreciation; Edge Play; Sensitivity; Marking; Biting; Foreplay; Cunnilingus; Deepthroating; Doggystyle; Mating Press; Subby, Feral Hawks; Unprotected Sex; Creampie, Facial; Wing-Stroking; Breeding Kink; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Got another one shot for y'all and it's my first Hawks fic!! I love me some of that birb man. I was listening to Faith Evan's "Soon As I Get Home" & got inspired lol. Enjoy! AND FUCK ENDEAVOR. -Jazz
*********
Keigo hates the rain.
It reminds him too much of his childhood days when he would aimlessly wander through the wet streets of his childhood home of Kyushu, looking for shelter and a place to lay his head and tired wings, too wet and weak to fly.
A rainy night like this reminds him too much of those nights where he would escape his home to find solace in the streets, only to get nothing but some firsthand experiences of the hostility and black-heartedness of humanity: crime; abuse; violence. He’d find himself in the slums, surrounded by the degenerates of Kyushu, soaked to the bone in rain, shivering his poor little feathers off.
But now, sitting and watching the sheets of rain fall along the city, his legs dangling off of one of the highest buildings in downtown Musutafu, he finds the rain a little comforting. Especially given his circumstances.
He is in his hero gear, gloves, goggles and boots included. He isn’t sure why he decided to change into it before he left the penthouse, but something told him just to do it. After all, a hero’s job is never done. Maybe he just might get lucky and find himself stopping a robbery or a carjacking to distract himself. He’d need a lot of it to make himself feel less like shit for tonight.
Whenever he closes his eyes, all he sees is you and the hurt in your pretty, brown eyes. Those eyes he wants to stare into forever. How could he hurt you so badly? How could a night that went as well as it could go at a charity ball end in such turmoil for the both of you?
“Fuck,” he hisses, his head dropping into his hands as the memories of the past few hours begin to rewind in his head:
“I just wanna know who she is to you,” you declared as you sat on the couch in your shared living room hours later. You were still in your gown from tonight–bright crimson to match Keigo’s wings, your hair curled to perfection and your heels making your legs look fantastic. He stared at you from the kitchen then while you unstrapped your Steve Madden heels, his hands itching to do it for you.
“Why?” he asked, doing his best to not scoff at the question. “There’s nothin’ to tell, Y/N; I told you that.” As he headed into the kitchen, he loosened his tie with one hand and popped a button to his Armani button-down, glad to be out of his suit jacket and shoes. Though he looked good, he felt like a little kid being forced to dress for church.
He went into the back where the walk-in pantry and wine cellar is to get himself a much-needed, chilled bottle of Merlot wine. When he returned to the kitchen, he glanced at you from across the marbled kitchen island. You were already staring at him from the living room, your red dress standing out against black couch.“But she isn’t a friend to you?” You asked, sounding agitated at his answer.“Or a coworker? You barely introduced me to her tonight, Keigo.”
Now Keigo was agitated even though he shouldn’t have been. But damn, you always did this. You always tried to dig into him at the worst possible moments. Especially during a moment where all he’s trying to do is just relax after a night of acting.“Why the fuck does it matter?” He scoffed flippantly.
Your eyes flared angrily at him.“First of all, don’t talk to me like that,” you sternly said, jabbing one acrylic nail at him.“You don’t have to be like that, okay? We’re just having a conversation here.”
Keigo turned his back to you to get the corkscrew out the drawer next to the $800 stove with its electric stove top and Stirling steel oven.“No,” he argued, bumping his hip against the drawer to shut it.“What you’re doing right now is putting me on the spot when you know tonight took a lot out of me. You know I’m not built for shit like that wack ass fuckin’ ball, Y/N.”
You gaped at him, dumbfounded.“I told you we didn’t have to go tonight, Keigo!” you protested, anger evident in your tone.“You wouldn’t listen to me!”
You crossed those gorgeous legs over each other, the light glowing against your skin still shining with coconut oil. Keigo was initially excited to get you home tonight just to feast on those legs and perhaps fuck you in that dress before stripping it off of you. It was the only thing he had looked forward to for tonight despite being forced by the Hero Commission to attend that stupid charity ball to prove that Japan’s heroes were “conscious of civilians’ needs all over the nation”.
It isn't that he hated charity. He wasn’t an asshole. He made sure to give his portion to hospitals, animal shelters, and homeless shelters all over Japan. He just hated being forced to put up with the annoying reporters and cameras in his face all night while he pretended to enjoy socializing with people that weren't his cup of tea and his nosey coworkers.
He especially wasn’t looking forward to it when you had asked to go with him. He hadn’t ever taken you to a ball or any kind of event that was associated with his hero work in the time you’ve been dating him, but you understood the strict ways of the Hero’s Commission and how it was important for Keigo to keep up his “bachelor” image for as long as he could to gain more popularity.
At least, that’s what you told him when he explained things to you.
He had figured tonight wouldn’t be a big deal since security kept the paparazzi and reporters outside the venue, so he let you come along and met you inside the building after he was done dealing with the zoo animals with their note pads and microphones on the red carpet.
However, he quickly realized how bad of a decision that was when his coworkers began swarming, asking him who “the beauty” was sitting with him; how you were; how long you two have been together; where he’s been hiding you at.
And then, of course, Wanna had to show up. Fucking Kanna! Keigo would have rather had forgotten she existed, but there she was, in the flesh in her skin-tight dress with her publicist. She was a simple fling; a past summer he spent with a model before he met you. That was a different time for him. A time where he didn't give a fuck where he stuck his dick because he was desperate to rid himself of the nightmares for a night in someone’s bed.
But seeing his past and his hopeful future interact the way you and Kanna did after Kanna made a show of throwing herself at Keigo and making conversation made him want to off himself right there. Especially when he saw your face when he didn’t introduce you to Kanna–disappointment; confusion; hurt. So much hurt.
But you didn’t understand. And though you never will, Keigo knows that it is for the best.
“Correction: you didn’t have to go,” he cooly stated.“But I do! Are you forgetting I’m pro no. 2? Publicity matters. If I wasn’t there, the whole fuckin’ nation’s eyes would’ve been on me wondering where I was and coughing up shit for the next magazine cover.”
He huffed to himself as he turned away from you once more to jab the screw into the cork to try and open the wine. When that didn’t work, he flung the cork screw away, nearly breaking it, and took the cork into his mouth. He pulled on the damn thing until it finally popped out of the nozzle. He then spat it out and reached above to grab himself a wine glass from the suspended wine glass rack before pouring himself a much-needed glass and taking a long gulp.
As soon as the wine was in his system, he felt an inch better, but that anger at himself still chugged in his veins. Anger for not being real with you. For never telling you the truth. For never being the man you deserved.
A tense silence coated the air between you in his penthouse. Ever since you started visiting since the first night you spent the evening with him in his bed, you’ve been here more than at your own apartment. Keigo doesn’t mind one bit. He feels so at home with you here, but even when you aren’t together, he feels at home with you….so why can’t he make you feel the same way?
“Keigo, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally sigh.“I just felt like tonight you didn’t really want me there. I felt like you were embarrassed with me.”
His eyes widen at the confession and fear grips him. ‘Oh, no,’ he lamented internally. ’Oh, no, no, no.’ That was the last thing he wanted to make you feel like ever. When he looked over at you, you had a despondent, oh-so sad look on your pretty, beat face. All because of his stupidity. “Why would you think that?” he all but whispers.
“You barely looked at me,” you reply, your voice soft and defeated. “Barely touched me. Half of your coworkers didn’t even know you had a girlfriend, Kei.”
Keigo pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought you’d been through this already.“You know why I can’t just go public with my relationships, Y/N. Don’t even start with this shit.”
You stared at him for a moment, sizing him up, and for a moment, he thought you might start wilding on him. Your silence scared him even more though.“C’mon now,” he tiredly sighed. “It’s been a long night. Can’t we just forget tonight and roll somethin’ up?” He gave you a smile, hoping you’d say yes to some wine, some smoke, and some much-needed TLC after tonight’s events.
But instead, you gave him a tight-lipped stare with a wall behind your eyes that made him realize that he’d be getting none of that tonight with you. He watched in utter defeat as you rose from the couch and strutted away upstairs to your bedroom, never turning to look back at him.
When he heard the door slam behind you, he knew he fucked up. Epically. He put his head in his hands, feeling like screaming until his throat was raw, but he knew that would do nothing to fix this. This was a reoccurring problem between you two; one that always seemed to end in arguments and nights where he spent spent either on the couch or out among the skies.
The truth was he wanted to desperately open up to you. He wanted to tell you why he hated every social event the Hero Commission forced him to attend.
Why he hated the entire organization he worked for so passionately, but still allowed himself to be manipulated and exploited to save others.
Why he had trouble sleeping and drinking habits.
Why he never tells you about the past hookups and flings.
Why he would sometimes smoke an entire bag of weed to rid himself of those horrible, itching thoughts of the past.
Why he never visited his mother.
Why he never visited Dabi in prison and who he was to you outside of a mortal enemy.
Why he feels like he is undeserving of any success or good thing in his life.
Why he hates himself.
Why he doesn’t truly love himself at all.
But he can’t lose you, and he knows if he were to ever reveal who he is behind the dazzling smile and charm, you would be gone for good. It’s better to keep those wounds closed anyway.
You didn’t seem to think the same though. A half an hour later, while Keigo was sitting on the same couch you abandoned with his second glass of wine and the balcony door cracked to let in some of that cool spring air, you returned to the living room. You were out of your dazzling outfit from tonight, your face scrubbed free of makeup and only wearing one of his old shirts. You looked amazingly sexy to him like this.
But he didn’t try to make a move or grab at you as you sat down. He didn’t even look at you. He knew you were there for a reason. You reached a hand out to stroke the burn scar that jet from the side of his jaw down to the column of his neck. “Your burn is healing,” you softly pointed out. “You know, you never really told me what happened to get you that.”
Your fingers gently stroked his jaw, tentative and tender. “You never asked,” Keigo muttered, sipping on his Merlot. You leaned your head against the back of the couch, giving him a soft-eyed stare. “That’s ‘cause you’d never tell.”
Keigo did his best to keep calm, but he hated this game you were playing with him. You were crossing a line with him here. He finally looked at you, accusingly.“What are you doing, huh?” He uttered, irked.“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” You asked. “I’m only asking you a question, Kei.” You truly didn’t know which pissed him off even more. “No, you’re trying to act like you’re asking a question when really, you’re poking the bear and blowin’ my buzz.”
His tone was harsh and so are his words, but they were enough to coax you to speak your mind. You sat up and hugged your knees to your chest as you stared at him.“You never tell me about your scars.”
Keigo flinched at your statement and his ghosts of scars littering his body seemed to itch.“That’s not true.”
“It is,” you protested, your voice strained. You sounded close to tears and that hurt him even more. “You never share anything with me. Nothing about your missions, your friends, your past, nothing. I feel like I barely know you and we’ve been together for a year!”
The frustration you were feeling was evident in your voice. Keigo sighed, placing his wine glass down on the glass coffee table in front of him. He looked at you, noticing how exhausted you looked aside from your irritated: dark circles under your eyes, a tight jaw.“Y/N, it’s just hard, okay? It’s not that simple to just tell you shit like that.”
“Even though I have?” you retorted harshly, tilting your head to give him a fixed, sideways stare.“I’ve told you everything about me from the jump, Keigo. Even the things I wouldn’t even tell my closet friend! Don’t I deserve the same transparency?”
Keigo heaved an exhausted sigh and ran his hands down his face. In the darkness behind his hands, he saw Twice’s body go limb, the blade of Keigo’s sword impaling his body.“I’ve done some fucked up shit,” he whispered into his hands.
You placed a hand on his back.“I’d never judge you,” you promised. "We all make mistakes and none of us are perfect.”
‘But you are,’ he thought. You are more than perfect. Way too much for someone like him. “I just can’t, okay?” he huffed, moving away from your touch. He ignored the hurt in your eyes. “Some things are just too painful to go back to, and I’d think with as much as you love and respect me, you’d respect my decision to keep things to myself.”
“Well, I don’t!” you shouted abruptly, standing up to glare down at him. “So…now what?”
Keigo stared up at you, feeling a flood of emotions begin to swarm him: gratefulness for your determination and stubbornness; confusion as to why you want someone like him; and anger for your refusal to leave this alone. He just wants to protect you from the messiness of himself. Why can’t you see that?
The words are out before he can stop them and he regrets having that second glass:“Why are you so hellbent on making me your fuckin’ project, huh?” he cooly asked you, his voice as cold as ice.
Your glared softened a bit.“What are you talking about?”
He stood up too, giving you a sharp glare that made all of the color in your face drain.“You look at me as this tragic hero you’re tryna fix, don’t you?” he snapped. “I may have the sob story that almost every fuckin’ pro has, but I’m not a puzzle for you to figure out and I don’t appreciate being seen as that.”
You gaped at him, your mouth open agape.“Are you serious right now?” you scoffed incredulously.“Keigo, I’m only trying to get to you to know you. And you’re not a project or a puzzle–you’re an amazing, passionate man that I adore and I just want to fuckin’ know you!”
The scream ripped from your throat after being buried under months of frustration and stress. Keigo could hear it as clear as day. He stood there, shocked, as you began to break down, your hands covering your face as you cried.
“Is that too much?” you sobbed into the open air.“Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you let me see you?” He could see every ounce of frustration and hurt that he was causing you begin to take its toll, rolling down your cheeks in fat tears that plopped onto the cherrywood floor below your painted toes.
Keigo immediately strode over to you and closed the gap between your bodies by wrapping his arms around you. He held you as you quietly sobbed into his chest, gripping his arms as you did. He felt horrible. He had never felt more like shit for making you feel like this.“I’m sorry,” he whispered.“It’s not that I don’t want to, baby bird. But I’m just too ugly.”
You stared up at him, astounded at his confession. “Just trust me on this, okay? You’d need a fuckin’ team to help clean this mess up. I don’t want to burden you with that.”
“But you’re not a burden!” you protested, tears in your pretty eyes.“You’re anything but a burden to me, Kei! I just wanna understand you.”
You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to stare at you.“Why do you feel the need to hide yourself from me?” You implored, begging him to answer.
He groaned tiredly, gently taking your hands off of his face. “Y/N, just drop it, alright?” he implored. He turned, wanting to walk away from this entire situation.
You followed, ever the stubborn one. “But why–“
“I said drop it!” Keigo bellowed, and his wings flared before he could stop them, his feathers sharpening to points. You frozen immediately, your eyes widening in fear like a deer in headlights.
He and you were both shocked at Keigo’s sudden change in demeanor. He had never reacted this way towards you, because you were never perceived as a threat to him. But something in his hawk-like instincts saw you as one right now. In that brief moment, you were a villain to him, and that frightened him beyond words.
Quickly, his muscles loosened and he fluffed his feathers out, lowering his wings down against his back. “Y/N,” he began softly, wanting to apologize. But it was too late. Instantly, you turned around and sprinted away from him until you were up the stairs and slamming the guest room door behind you once again.
Keigo was left standing there, feeling like the worse person on the planet. And he was. His head began to fill with every negative thought that haunted him at night: You’re a loser. You’re a fake. You’re a horrible boyfriend. You don’t deserve her. You should just leave so she can find someone better.
So what does Keigo do when his head is his worst enemy? He goes out and patrols.
He finished his wine before heading upstairs to his bedroom and entering his walk-in closet to suit up. After putting on his hero gear, he passed by your room. Though the door is unlocked, he knocked anyway and waited for your little grunt of acknowledgement before he entered. You were sitting in the black armchair facing the small balcony of your guest room, your legs tucked against your chest.
You didn't face him when he slid inside. “I’m gonna go out and patrol,” he said, getting right to the point. “You know the alarm code to turn it on, right?”
“I’ve got it, Keigo,” you muttered numbly. “Just go.” You still didn’t look at him and it pained him greatly. “I’ll be back tonight as soon as I can,” he weakly said, trying to vain to ease the fire he caused.
“Don’t bother,” you grumbled. “Just go. I’ll see you whenever you get back…if you decide to come back.”
Realizing you were never going to acknowledge his presence, Keigo silently left your room, his heart breaking in two. He then strode over to the balcony in his living room, slipped out the door he left unlocked specifically for himself, and took off from the terrance, his crimson wings flapping into the night.
He has been out here since, desperately trying to clear his head as he stares into the night and the rain. He stares up at the sky, watching the droplets fall. "Give me some answers here,” he pleads, not sure who he’s talking to–God; the rain; the universe.
Almost as if he is heard, his work phone suddenly rings. He usually keeps it in the pocket of his hero gear pants, fully-charged, of course.
He slips it out and looks down at the caller ID, finding the HPSC chief’s name on his screen.
“Fuck,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. He knows that whatever it is, it can’t be good. He answers the call with an annoyed, “Hawks.”
“We need you out and patrolling,” the HPSC chief bluntly said, his voice gruff and aggressive. “We got another tip on the villain that has currently been terrorizing the city since the beginning of the month. A couple of civilians reported that they spotted him near the bridge. We’ve already got Mirko and a couple of others down there patrolling in different areas. We need you to join in case he attacks and civilians may need help.”
Immediately, Keigo rises from his spot on the building and cracks his neck. “Got it. I’ll be there in five.” As soon as he hangs up, he stretches out his wings and proceeds to head towards the bride that hangs above the Musutafu river, doing his best to fly among the pounding rain and thunder.
When he finally makes it to the bridge, he finds himself breathless at the chaos: the bridge is completely cut in half, one of the sides slipping down into the murky depths of the blackened water below; vehicles slide across the apsault into the water as their passengers scramble to safety, being escorted by other heroes to the other side of the bridge that is still intact. Yellow, inflatable lifesaver boats bob against the black water below, either to catch anyone who falls or look for bodies.
The villain has already begun his attack, Keigo realizes. He doesn’t see the guy now, but he knows he’ll have to put everything into stopping him if he’s this powerful and deranged with his quirk. He cannot be Keigo tonight. He has to be Hawks.
But before he springs any further into action, he quickly flies over to the rocks several feet away from the bridge onto the river’s shore. The only things here are the waves, the rain, and him. His hands shake as he dials your number, tiny, wavering breaths leaving his lips. He doesn’t know why he feels so small and so scared right now, but something about this mission and leaving things with you the way they are don’t sit right with him.
So he calls you. When you don’t pick up, he expects it, but even so, he wants to hear your voice before he goes into this fight. But at least you’ll be able to hear his. When the beep signals the beginning of his voicemail, he doesn’t have time to think of what to say. He just says it.
“Hey, it’s me,” he sighs. “Hero's Commission called. They need me down at the bridge in case a villain attacks tonight. Supposedly, he’s been making trouble for over a month now and we’ve been trying to track him.”
He trails off, his brain trying to think of what else to tell you. Anything he’s sure he’d regret not saying sooner if he happens to kick the bucket tonight. “I’ll be home as soon as I can, but if for some reason that doesn’t happen, just know that I’m so sorry I’m so fucked up.” He presses a fist to his pounding head, gritting his teeth in frustration. “I just don’t tell you about it, about me, because I don’t want you to worry and…”
He pauses, gnawing at his bottom lip. The words push at his throat, threatening to rip from his chest.
“Dammit, because I love you,” he declares, strained and his heart pounding as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “I’m so, so in love with you, and I’m so afraid that if I’m to ever tell you why I am the way that I am, you’ll never love me or want me in the same way. I…”
He trails off, a sob leaving his mouth. He covers it at first, afraid someone might hear, but no one is around. No one but him. “I’m so scared you’ll leave,” he confesses, his voice wavering. “But I just keep pushing you away from me,” he says, his voice trembling. “I keep fucking this up for myself.”
The dam behind his eyes breaks and he begins to softly sob to himself, keeping himself as quiet as he can so he doesn’t scare you. How lame to be crying to your girlfriend in a voicemail.
But as quickly as it came, it vanishes and he pulls himself together. He clears his throat and takes his goggles off to wipe at his eyes. “This voicemail didn’t go the way I wanted it to,” he chuckles dryly. “Just know that this is how I feel about you and I promise I’ll be home.”
Without another word, he ends the voicemail and stares out at the bridge. The sound of terrified and panicked screams echoes in the wind. Sounds of chaos.
Keigo balls his hands into tight fists at his sides and pockets his phone. But not before turning it off entirely.
*************
“Just take a deep breath, honey,” your friend soothes you over the phone. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“But what if it’s not?” you pitifully sob into the phone. “He’s out there right now, I have no idea where he is, and the last thing on his mind conscious is us fighting!”
You’re sitting on the couch now in Keigo’s penthouse, still in his shirt. His coffee table is littered with a half-empty glass of wine, his opened bottle of Merlot that you started guzzling down, and bits of weed from the clumsy blunt you rolled for yourself to soothe your nerves.
None of that helped you, so now you’re here, about to tear your hair out. When Keigo had left, you ventured out of the guest room to rummage through his wine and his weed since both aren’t hands-off for you. “Anything that’s mine is yours, baby bird,” he had told you a year ago when you had spent the night and forgot your toothbrush. He shared his with you with no problem.
That was the first time you had spent the night with him after a magical date and some even more magical sex. You had fallen hard, and him even harder, since the first day he saw you, in fact.
You had been walking to work, looking so pretty in your pink blouse and your work slacks with an ass that could stop traffic. It had stopped Keigo dead in his tracks. He was doing day patrols and had caught sight of you, causing him to lose track of his conversation with a police officer about the possibility of new villains.
He didn’t catch up with you and spit game immediately as he usually did with women he was interested in. First, he flew alongside you at a distance you couldn’t see him to make sure you got to work safely. Then, after realizing you worked as an interior designer, he had pretended he was in need of renovating his agency.
“I just need a little bit of color, y’know?” he said as he sat in your office, loving your smell and your eyes. “Like this pretty pink you’ve got on.” He eyed your blouse, smirking at the way you froze when you realized he was flirting.
You had never been flirted with so openly before like that, especially by a pro. And especially by someone as sexy and as charming as Hawks. His boldness and confidence turned you on and you found yourself wanting more of him. When he asked for your card (for business purposes), you had agreed. The renovations for his agency never happened, but a date did.
That was all just a year ago. Now here you are now, all stress and uncertainty and marijuana smoke in your lungs. “I should’ve never brought any of it up,” you lament. “I feel like a fucking asshole.”
“Sweetie, you’ve been with the guy for a whole year!” your friend argues. “If he hasn’t opened up to you by now and shown you the him he is without the cameras in his face and his hero facade on, then he isn’t the one for you.”
You know she’s right, but the idea of leaving Keigo pains you beyond words. You have too much invested into him to just leave when things get tough. You knew what you were getting into the moment you decided to embark on the journey of a romantic relationship with him since he happens to be a hero.
You told him and yourself you were fine with the late nights where he’d be MIA and the missed calls. The constant wondering and worrying. The sneaking around and being discreet about your relationship for the sake of his status.
All you want in return is some closeness. Some vulnerability. Something to make you feel like you’re wanted and cherished the way you want and cherish him. But he’s never given you any. You sometimes question if you’re asking for too much from him, knowing how hard his job is and how stressed he can be.
But even so, the yearning to know his secrets still pushes at you every time he brushes off a new scar or tells you vague events of his past that end in him not wanting to talk about it anymore. And though you respect him enough to leave it alone, you know you need more.
“Has he even told you he loves you?” your friend asks, bringing you back down to earth.
You flush at her words. “We haven’t gotten there yet,” you reply, almost embarrassed by the fact. “I’ve been holding back telling him because I know his job is hard and…”
‘And I don’t wanna scare him,’ you think. You know this is the longest relationship Keigo has had. You as well since your past relationships had never gone past a couple months or sex. But with Keigo, it’s different. You feel safe with him. You can be wholeheartedly and undoubtedly yourself. You love him, but you keep it inside. All to keep him comfortable.
“Now what if I don’t get the chance to tell him at all?” you ask, quickly beginning to cry again. Every word left unspoken begins to bubble at your throat, coming out in anguished sobs.
“Okay, stop,” you friend firmly says. “First off, put down any alcohol or smoke ‘cause it’s making you paranoid.” You eye the wine and the weed littering the coffee table.
“Second, Keigo is going to come home to you. He just went out for a breather and he’ll be back. Plus, he’s a smart guy and he’s a pro! He knows how to get himself out of any kind of situation.” You listen to your friends word, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. “I guess you’re right,” you weakly say.
“I am right,” she states with conviction. “Just rest for now and when he comes home, give him time to decompress. Then tomorrow, you can apologize and talk about what happened. Simple, right?”
You nod, but even as you try to persuade yourself that your friend’s words are true, you still feel that twist in your gut at the idea of tomorrow. What if he isn’t here tomorrow? What if you pushed him so hard that he left? Or what if something worse has happened?
“Just sleep, honey.” Your friend’s words drift to your ear again like a prayer; beacons in the void of darkness. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Though you don’t really believe her, you do as she says anyway. After she hangs up, you clean up the living room and venture back to your guest room to sleep off your frustrations. The effects of the wine and the blunt combined with the aftermath of crying hit you immediately, making it easy to drift off to sleep.
You sleep for over three hours until you awaken in the darkness of the guest room. Groggily, you look at the clock: 2:04 AM. Immediately, you reach for your phone which you put on ‘do not disturb’. There, on the screen, are one missed call and one voicemail from Keigo.
Your heart skips a beat and the fogginess of sleep leaves your head as fight the urge to ignore it. This could be important. You click on the message and put it on speaker, placing your phone flat on the bed. You bring your knees to your chest and hug yourself, tucking your nose into Keigo’s shirt collar and breathing in his cologne.
The beginning of the message is disoriented and loud, the sound of the wind cutting through before you hear Keigo’s beautiful, wonderful voice. As soon as you hear him, you’re calm.
“Hey, it’s me. Hero's Commission called. They need me down at the bridge in case a villain attacks tonight. Supposedly, he’s been making trouble for over a month now and we’ve been trying to track him.”
Your heart drops into your stomach. A villain attack. Of course! That’s why he isn’t home yet. “Oh, my God,” you fearfully whisper, covering your mouth.
“I’ll be home as soon as I can, but if for some reason that doesn’t happen, just know that I’m so sorry I’m so fucked up. I just don’t tell you about it because I don’t want you to worry and…”
He trails off and you swear, your soul leaves your body as you anticipate his next words. But nothing could’ve ever prepared you for them. As soon as you hear those three little words that mean so much to so many, your breath hitches and you come back to life, feeling like you’ve been dead all night:
“Dammit, because I love you. I’m so, so in love with you, and I’m so afraid that if I’m to ever tell you why I am the way that I am, you’ll never love me or want me in the same way. I…I’m so scared you’ll leave.”
His voice begins to tremble and waiver, hitching as he begins to cry. You’ve never heard him cry before. Your heart aches for him, your body desperate to be against his.
“But I just keep pushing you away from me. I keep fucking this up for myself.”
“No,” you whisper, beginning to cry yourself. The fact that he’s felt this way for so long, suffering in silence, is a reality that is worse than anything you could’ve imagined.
Finally, he clears his throat and you know that the end of the voicemail is near. “This voicemail didn’t go the way I wanted it to. Just know that this is how I feel about you and I promise I’ll be home.”
When the voicemail ends, you sit there in silence, the newfound information processing in your brain. All you can think about is one thing that you still cannot believe is a fact as true as day: ’He loves me. He really loves me.’
Suddenly, everything makes sense and the world is clearer to you. All the uncertainty and doom you felt have vanished, replaced with a fluttering in your heart that belongs only to Keigo. Delirious with need, you jump out of bed and immediately go to his bedroom to search for his sweatpants and a hoodie. ‘I have to go find him. I need to see him.’
You don’t know where he is or where he could be calling from, but if there is a villain attack then social media will have the first place to search. As you venture into Keigo’s master bedroom to search for clothes, preparing to fight the rain and the city’s chaos to find him, a sound stops you.
It is the sound of the click of the lock to the balcony doors. Then the sound of the doors as they slide back.
“Hawks,” you immediately whisper to yourself. Then, louder, “Hawks!”, as you immediately race out of the bedroom to the living room just in time to see him walking through the doors after landing on the terrace.
“Keigo!” you gasp, every emotion hitting you at once watching him in the dark living room. The only light is from the big, silver moon illuminating Keigo while the rest of him is shrouded in darkness.
“Hey,” he tiredly greets you as he shuts the door behind him. You feel like God as blessed you bringing him home in one piece. Now, you can really tear into his ass. “God, why didn’t you call and tell me you’d be back?” you snap, not daring to let him rest for a second. “I’ve been worried sick about you! I was gonna…”
Your words die in your throat when the overhead light that automatically switches on according to body movement flicks on, coating the room in a golden glow that shines right on Keigo and the fresh bruises and scratches he’s sporting. He doesn’t look that bad, but you can tell his right eye socket is swelling and his wings look ragged and worn “Keigo,” you softly gasp, the word almost getting caught in your throat. That’s all you can begin to say.
“You listen to my voicemail?” he asks curiously, but not rudely. You nod slowly, mouth still open in awe. “A villain destroyed the bridge and nearly had every vehicle on there goin’ into the river. He has the ability to extend his limbs, so he made a couple of other extended arms and legs to go along with ‘em.” He huffs in annoyance. “Motherfucker looked like Doc Ock from Spiderman.”
“Is everyone okay?” you softly ask.
“After a couple of my coworkers and I got to the guy, yeah,” Keigo replies, kicking off his boots. He places his goggles on a nearby table. “First, I had to fetch as many bodies as I could that the fucker kept flingin’ over the bridge to taunt me. Gang Orca and Eraserhead took care of the rest of the civilians once I caught up to the villain. Then it was just us vs. him. Once Eraserhead got near him, he took the fucker's quirk and the cops put him in handcuffs.”
“That’s good,” you reply, relief filling you. Mostly at the fact that he’s still here, alive and breathing. Silence falls between you, tense and filled with unspoken words. You nervously wriggle your fingers, feeling small under Keigo’s unwavering gaze. “Listen, Kei,” you nervously begin. “I’ve been goin’ crazy in here ever since you left and I’m so, so sorry for–“
Keigo suddenly puts up a hand to silence you. Your words abruptly cut off and you button your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. You wonder if he can hear how loud it is because you sure can. It is pumping wildly in your ears, making you even more of a nervous wreck.
“Since you got my voicemail, you probably already know a lot of what I’m about to say, but I’m goin’ to tell you properly because you deserve it.” He takes a deep breath, preparing himself. You stay silent and patient, waiting for him to come to grips with whatever he is fighting. “I suppose I should be grateful that eight-armed dickhead decided to cause commotion tonight,” he dryly chuckles. “I had went out to clear my head; to distract myself. What better way to do all that than to kick some ass and save some lives?”
He unzips his jacket and lets it fall to the floor, revealing his shirt and toned arms underneath. “But while I was doin’ all of that, other than thinking about stopping that villain and saving the innocent lives of all of those people, all I could think about tonight was you.”
His gaze soften as he looks at you. Your heart pumps a bit faster.
“I thought to myself, ‘when I finally put this motherfucker behind bars, when my mission is finally done, I’m going home’.”
He steps toward you, eyes still locked with yours, never wavering. It makes you tremble in your position. “‘And as soon as I get home, I’m falling to my knees, begging for forgiveness, and showing my baby all of me and more because she fucking deserves it’.”
He takes another two steps toward you before suddenly dropping to his knees in front of you. “So this is me doin’ all of that now. Plus, showing you how much I love you.”
He leans toward you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him so his face is pressed into your stomach. You stare down at him in awe, unable to speak. You’re afraid that if you do, the moment will disappear and so will he.
“I never said I before,” Keigo continues, “because I was afraid it wasn’t the right time or I’d end up fucking everything up for myself. Plus, loving someone always seems to backfire on me.” He strokes up your thigh, holding onto your hip. “So I kept it in, just like everything I haven’t told you yet.”
His hands, so careful yet so strong, trail up your hips and ball into his shirt, gripping the fabric. When his hands and shoulders begin to tremble, you realize he’s crying. You’ve never seen him cry before. It is a sight you never want to see again.
“I’m a mess, Y/N,” he tearfully says. “When we met for the first time, I never wanted you to see any of that. I didn’t even want this to turn into what it is now, but I’m so, so grateful it hasn’t.” He looks up at you, eyes red and wet with tears. “I’m so happy you didn’t leave.”
Your heart wrenches at the sight of your boyfriend–so sad and so broken. How is a person as bright-eyed and confident as Hawks also someone like this? He must have hid all of this from you for some time. You wrap your arms around his neck, cupping the back of his head in one of your hands. “Keigo, I’d never leave you.” Your fingers caress his blonde curls, stroking his head softly. “I promise.”
“You can’t promise me that,” he croaks, shaking his head. “How do you know you won’t get tired of me? How do you know I won’t scare you off?”
“Keigo, you’re scaring me now,” you confess, feeling your own fresh set of tears beginning to make an appearance. “I’m scared we won’t make it because you refuse to open up to me.”
Keigo’s expression changes to one of confusion, his eyes narrowing as he scowls at you. “So you’re telling me that if I tell you all about my childhood, you promise you won’t leave?” he asks, a bite in his voice. “If I tell you about the abuse, the trauma, the shit I witnessed from my own parents, being stripped of my name when the Hero’s Commission picked me up, learning that the same man who saved me and inspired me to become a hero is a fuckin’ abuser, you’d stay?”
You stare down at him, dumbfounded and horrified. You never knew any of this, though you did know the part about Endeavor since it was all over the news. But that other stuff? Keigo kept entirely to himself, leaving you in the dark.
“What about the scars?” He moves away from you slightly to strip himself of his shirt, revealing a very impressive, toned upper body and a slew of scars–some new and some healed. “All the training I forced to undergo by the Hero Commission. Some that have barely healed from nearly dying during missions. This burn here that I got tryna save a fuckin’ villain.”
He points at the burn on his jaw and your stomach lurches. “Twice?” you ask, your eyes wide. “You tried to save Twice?” You know a little bit about this event, mostly because it was publicized everywhere and Keigo was forced to tell you some of what happened after he had nightmares. But now that a year has gone by and most of the LOV have been arrested, it has become old news. People have moved on.
But Keigo obviously hasn’t. He visibly cringes at the sound of Twice’s name, the trauma still fresh. “And what about him?” He demands, his voice cracking. “What about the fact that I fucking killed him?”
“Keigo, he was a villain,” you firmly respond, taking his hands into yours. “You gave me a chance. He didn’t take it.”
But this isn’t enough to calm Keigo down. He crumbles again, his lips trembling and eyes welling with tears. You instantly wrap your arms around him and hold him, cradling his head. “I feel like a fucking monster, Y/N,” he sobs into your stomach, gripping you for dear life. “I feel like I’m drowning and I’m gonna pull you right in with me. I don’t want that. I just wanna make you happy…”
His fingers slide under your shirt to expose your stomach and he presses his face there, wetting your skin with tears. “Can you really love a monster like me?” he whispers against your skin.
He begins to cry again, his body wracked with sobs and soft whines that tear at your soul. A lone tear drips down your face as you continue to cradle your boyfriend like he’s a child. And right now he is–he’s the exact neglected, abused, broken child he alluded to minutes before. You picture him as a little boy, roaming the streets of his home, doing anything and everything to survive because no one cared enough to care for him. You’ll make sure that never happens again. You swear it.
Gently pushing him away from your stomach, you take his hands into yours and join him on the floor. He stares at you in awe, eyes red and face wet. “I have two answers for you,” you gently coo, smoothening his hair back. “To answer your first question is yes, I promise I’ll stay as long as you show me everything.”
You cup his jaw and caress the burn scar. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, tears sparkling on his blonde lashes. “I want it all, Keigo: the scars; the bruises; the wounds. Tell me every secret you have; every dream and aspiration; every fear that keeps you up at night.”
You lean in to kiss the burn then his bruised eye. “Let me take all of it, especially your pain.” You continue to kiss his face before trailing down to his neck and shoulders; his arms and collarbone; his chest and pert nipples. You kiss every bruise, scar, and burn you find, your fingers trailing over them. You treasure every soft moan and gasp he lets out, happy to have them over sobs and whines of anguish.
“I don’t wanna fix you–I just wanna water you; nurture you; watch you grow the way you’ve done me.” You look at him then, cupping his face in your hands. “I just wanna love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
His eyes widen an inch at your confession. “Yes, I love you, Keigo,” you softly giggle. “That’s my answer to your second answer: yes, I can love a monster. But you’re not a monster, Keigo. You’re just a human, even with these big ass wings.”
You gently tickle a wing with your fingers, making him laugh under his breath. “You’re an intelligent, strong, beautiful man who deserves every inch of my love,” you whisper to him as you lean toward him, nuzzling your face into his neck. You breathe in his scent of sweat and cologne, committing it to memory.
Keigo holds you to him, cradling your head to his neck. His hold on you is fierce and passionate, validating his feelings for you even before he utters them. “I really love you, you know that?” he whispers against your ear. Your heart jumps and a joyful grin stretches across your face. You look up at him, tracing every single feature of his pretty face with your eyes. “I do now,” you softly reply.
He smiles at this, the act finally reaching his beautiful eyes. You trail your thumb over his bottom lip, your stomach curling at the plumpness of it. “Wanna smoke?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.
At the mention of rolling up, Keigo’s wings ruffle excitedly and you giggle. “I thought you’d never ask,” he sighs, sounding like he needs it. With no hesitation, you help him to his feet and proceed to set up. You ask him to roll the blunt which he does, his fingers and tongue working expertly to tighten the blunt in a way you can’t. But then again, Keigo has always been good with his hands and mouth.
After he finishes, you begin to pass the blunt back and forth between each other as you play your music from your phone, the sound of SZA filling the living room. Soon, you’re feeling light as a feather and high as a kite. Your body and mind are relaxed, especially feeling the solid chest of your man underneath you as you lie against him.
The blunt lays on the ashtray on the coffee table now, smaller now after use. You reach for it and pinch it between your index and thumb before taking a puff, the end of the blunt turning red like an angry firefly. As soon as the smoke hits your lungs, you’re falling deeper into that sea of bliss. You look up at Keigo, finding his eyes fluttered closed. At first you think he's sleep, but his arm circling around your waist tells you different. “Feelin’ good, Kei, baby?” you coo to him, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. You desperately want to kiss them.
“Mmm,” he hummed, a content smile on his pretty face. The sight makes you giggle. You start to laugh even more when he suddenly circles his other arm around you and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t want you to leave,” he mutters to you as he grips your waist, firmly holding you to him.
You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his forehead. “You have me,” you whisper to him. He looks up at you, eyes slightly red and glinting with adoration for you. “And you have me,” he replies, soft conviction in his voice.
“Promise?” you utter hopefully. He slowly nods, staring at you the same way you do him: intensely; adoringly. Your fingers trail up his chest, his heart pounding underneath your fingertips. ‘He’s real,’ you think. ‘And all mine. And I need him.’
The want and need for Keigo and his body dawns on you quickly, quickly taking its toll on you. Your nipples harden and your thighs squeeze together as you begin to strip him out of his clothes with your eyes. “Prove it then,” you demand, need crawling into your voice. “Prove how much you love me. Prove to me that things will be different.”
Realization alights behind Keigo’s eyes and his expression darkens slightly. It excites you. He coaxes you off of his lap before standing to meet you. “Come here,” he coos, already taking your hand in his. “Let’s get cleaned up.” You nod, excitement and anticipation filling your core with warmth as he leads you up the steps and straight down the hallway to his master bedroom.
Keigo has over four bathrooms in his penthouse: in his bedroom, guest room, down the hall, and living room where his washer and dryer sit closest to the kitchen. The bathroom in his bedroom is by far the most beautiful, complete with marbled sink counters, a whirlpool tub, and a walk-in shower with a sliding glass door and one of those shower heads that make the water look like a rainforest waterfall.
You watch, trembling in anticipation as Keigo gets the shower ready. He makes sure it’s at the right temperature to warm you up but not burn you before turning to face you, lust in his eyes. He then begins to undress himself, taking everything off until his hero gear is on the floor and he’s standing before you, completely bare.
You’re silent, unable to speak. You’re too tongue-tied at the sight of your man’s body displayed before you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Keigo is not extremely buff, but he still has some impressive muscles, including well-defined abs and a V-line that trails down to his tufts of darker blonde curls that you desperately want to venture towards. His gorgeous, muscled body is unfortunately scarred as well, fresh bruises and cuts coating his skin from the mission he just completely tonight. In addition, he still has scars from where Dabi burned him a year ago, the skin tight and pruned. You feel tears prick your eyes, realizing that it’s quite possible that you would’ve never seen his gorgeous body again.
You close the gap between you and lay your hands flat on his chest. With your eyes locked with his, you begin to kiss every single old scar and bruise that adorns his soft, tanned skin. You’re careful with those that look fresh, making sure to skip those and focus on the ones that have been on Keigo’s body for months if not years.
As you do, you find pleasure in the tiny sighs and groans that leave his lips, knowing he’s enjoying this TLC. It makes you feel good to know you’re making him feel good. You want him to know you enjoy every single part of him, no matter if he’s scarred or not. You think he’s beautiful.
Finally, he pulls you away and gives you an excitably, darkened stare. You know what he wants now. Quickly, you go to strip yourself of his shirt, but he stops you. “Let me,” he gently orders, and you let your arms go limp at your sides. He presses his lips to yours and pulls you into a passionate, wet kiss as his hands slide up under his shirt.
You softly moan into his mouth as you feel his hand on your bare skin. “You look so fuckin’ good in my clothes,” he whispers against your lips. “Even when you’re pissed at me, you still wear my shit.”
He brings the shirt up more, exposing your panties, stomach, and bare breasts to him. He groans as he pulls the shirt up over your head and flings it across the bathroom before ducking down to play with your tits. He latches one of the hardened peaks of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and around.
You moan a little louder, your hands grasping his shoulders. “Missed you,” you softly utter, biting back another moan as his tongue teases your hardened nipple. He peers up at you, smiling. “I missed you too, baby,” he whispers. “So much.” He presses his lips to your other breast, his fingers sliding down your sides. “M’so sorry for everything. I never should’ve pushed you away. I–“
“Hush,” you say, pressing a hand to his cheek. He looks up at you, regret in his eyes. “Show me how sorry you are now.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he stands and takes your hand to walk you into the steaming-hot shower. As soon as you are under the jets of hot water, Keigo pushes you against the tiled wall and presses a passionate kiss to your lips.
You moan softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer to you; as close as he can possibly be. He puts one hand above your head against the wall as he begins to grind his hips into yours, his pelvis pressing delightfully up against your clit. You whimper into his neck as he continues to move against you, his lips caressing your neck and that spot behind your ear that makes your pussy wet and your nipples tingle.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he coos. “So beautiful…so sexy…and you’re so mine.”
The feeling is too much. It overpowers you, making you delirious with need. “I’m all yours,” you practically sob. “Please, Kei; don’t tease me.”
Keigo moves his head away from your neck to smirk at you. “And so impatient,” he chuckles. His hand sneaks between your thighs where he presses his index and middle fingers between your pussy lips. You gasp at the sensation of his touch, your clit jumping against his palm. “Naughty girl. You’re already wet for me,” he groans. “I suppose you’ve been waitin’ long enough though. Time to show you how sorry I am.”
After sucking on his fingers, he proceeds to get onto his knees and press his lips against your inner thigh before showering your pussy in kisses that quickly turn into open-mouthed sucks and licks that have you seeing stars. Your hands grab his shoulders, gripping them tightly as his tongue licks every bit of your pussy up, his lips pillowy-soft against your clit. “Fuck, Keigo,” you moan, leaning your head back against the shower wall. “You’re so good at this.”
Keigo moans into your pussy in response, lashing his tongue in different shapes across your clit. When he suddenly hooks your leg over his shoulder, you squeak in surprise. He looks up at you, eyes shining and a love-drunk look on his face. “I’ve got you, baby,” he coos, staring up at you lovingly. “You know I do, don’t you?”
Then he’s diving back in, one hand gripping your thigh hiked up to his ear and the other holding you steady by your hip. You’re losing your shit, one hand in his hair and the other gripping his shoulder for dear life. “Shit, Kei!” you cry out, your cries of ecstasy echoing off the shower walls. “Fuck, baby, that feels so…oh, my God!”
Meanwhile, Keigo won’t shut the fuck up about how amazing and pretty your pussy is. “You have the prettiest fuckin’ pussy, baby,” he coos into your clit, his words slightly muffled. “You’re always so open n’ wet for me. How could I ever neglect this cunt?”
His words ignite something in you that have you crumbling, all self-control abandoned. The porn-worthy sounds slipping from your lips are drowned out from the sound of the shower as Keigo continues to go waaaaay down south, never letting up. It doesn't take long for that knot in your core to begin to tighten, signaling your oncoming orgasm. “I’m close!” you whimper. “So close! Don’t stop!”
“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo mumbles into your pussy, still flicking that magical tongue. But when he inserts a finger and curls it up against your G-spot, you just about see God. “Go ahead and cum for me, baby,” he practically begs you, his finger encouraging you further. “Cum for me. Cum all over my face.”
Your eyes close, plummeting you into darkness as your peak begins to dawn closer and closer the faster Keigo’s finger fucks you. “Please, baby,” he pleads. “I need you. Need all of you.” He dives back into your pussy, sucking on your clit softly in time with his finger stroking your insides and your G-spot.
Finally, finally, you fall off that hill and cum all over your man’s face as requested. Keigo moans and whines in appreciation as you scream his name, nearly losing your voice. He grips your hips with such force that you can’t move as he licks you clean, his tongue carefully licking over and around your sensitive pussy. When he finally pulls away, his hair is wet and his face gleams with your cum.
You help him up and clean his face off, running your thumbs over his plump lips. “That was amazing,” you breathlessly giggle. Keigo smiles proudly at you, happy with the praise. “I try.”
You press a passionate kiss to his mouth, rendering him speechless afterwards. “Now, it’s your turn.” A newfound boldness courses through your veins as you press down onto his shoulders, forcing him to sit down on the bench. “You sure, baby bird?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to–“
“Nah,” you interrupt him firmly. “I’m gettin’ that dick down my throat and you’re gonna enjoy every single second of it.” You settle down onto your knees in between his thighs, your hands trailing up his legs. “My amazing, intelligent hero deserves it.”
Keeping your eyes locked with his, your nails gently graze up and down his thighs, earning a shiver and a delicious moan that escapes his luscious mouth. His cock quickly hardens even more between his legs, dripping with pre-cum all for you. Without wasting anymore time, you wrap your hand around the base of his length and begin to light peppering his dick in kisses, playing close attention to the sensitive spot at the underside of his cock.
“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes fluttering closed. You stare up at him, his dickhead in your face, near your lips. “You deserve all of this, honey,” you coo before you wrap your lips around his cock. You take your time with sucking him off, starting by sucking on the pink dickhead as you slowly pump your hand up and down, spitting onto his dick if necessary.
By the time you take him deeper into your mouth, Keigo’s dick is nice and slick with water and your spit, allowing him to easily slip into your mouth. You continue to pump him up and down, stroking the rest of the length that you can’t fit in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his head and along his dick, loving how warm his skin is, his masculine scent, and the taste of salt on your tastebuds. You commit all of it to memory, including his beauty face etched in pleasure.
You take a bit more of him, your mouth stretching around his thick cock, but you don’t do it enough to hit the back of your throat. Not yet. Keigo is in his world. His blonde brows are knitted together in concentration while his chest heaves up and down. His hand immediately goes to your hair as he watches you bob your head up and down on his cock. “Just like that,” he hisses. “Such a good girl. So good for me.”
His hand travels to the back of your head and gently pushes you down, causing his dick to slip farther into your mouth. You feel him hit the back of your throat finally, causing you to gag and your eyes to water. He keeps his hand on your head as you begin to gag on his cock, your throat pumping up and down, back and forth.
Despite the year you’ve been with him, you still can’t believe how big he is. He practically fills your throat, stretching out the wet, inner walls until your jaw aches and your eyes begin to tear. But you do it for him and those lovely sounds dripping from his lips. “Fuck, baby bird!” He groans through gritted teeth. “So good! Such a good little slut for me!” His toes curl beside your naked thighs, his hand in your hair and gripping it tightly.
You continue to give him the Glock Glock 3000, taking extra care to fondle his balls with your other hand. He loves that. He’s a whimpering, whining mess as you continue your work, working him so good that he’s seeing stars. You want to show him you can take everything.
Finally, he growls deep in his throat and wrenches your head away from his dick. “Enough,” he firmly says. You gasp as you pop off of his dick, a string of saliva following him in his wake as he pulls his dick out of your mouth that droops from your bottom lip.
You softly pant, catching your breath but also to calm yourself down. You’re becoming hornier by the second. Your pussy is wet and wanting, desperate to be filled, leaving you to rub your thighs together to give yourself some relief. Keigo’s eyes are blown with lust, filling you with excitement and a slight twinge of fear. “Get up,” he demands.
You oblige and stand on shaky legs. You fortunately don’t have to move on your own. Keigo does the work for you. In an instant, he is behind you with his hands on your hips, forcing you to bend forward. With a squeak, your hands fly to the shower wall and your back arches, presenting your ass and dripping cunt to your boyfriend.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, giving your ass a sharp smack that echoes off the shower walls. “Yeah, you like this, don’t you?” He hisses, spanking you again. “Nobody could ever make you feel like this, could they?”
You whimper, the stinging of his spanks making your pussy tingle. He spanks you again, harder this time, and you yelp. “I didn’t hear that, gorgeous,” he snickers. “Louder for me.” You whimper when you suddenly feel his cock slide against your pussy, nudging your sensitive clit.
“Yes!” you wail out. “No one makes me feel like you do, daddy!” You turn to look at him, arching your pretty ass further into him and whining your hips around for him. “Please, please fuck me, Kei. I can’t take much more!” Keigo watches your hips and ass, slowing growing more and more needy by the second.
“Fuck!” The word leaves his lips in a hiss. He instantly grabs your hips, lines his dick up, and sinks inside of you. Finally home. A gasp falls from your open mouth as he sinks in deeper, stretching you out. No matter how many times you do this with him, you’ll always feel full with him.
Keigo holds your hips and slowly begins to roll his hips into you, sending your clit into hyperdrive with pleasure. You’re a mess at this point, grinding your ass back into him despite his slow pace. “Keigo,” you whine in need.
Keigo chuckles, still rolling his hips, his dick pumping in and out of you slowly. “Patience, baby. I wanna make it last.” He suddenly lets go of your hips and grabs your tits, squeezing them in his palms and emitting gasps from you.
“You’re mine, you understand?” He growls into your ear. “You’re. Fuckin’. Mine.” Each word is punctuated by sudden, rough trusts that make your eyes blow and your mouth fall open in a wordless, pleasured O. Now Keigo begins to go faster, snapping his hips forward as the water continues to fall around you in sheets. The only sounds are of the water hitting the shower floor, skin slapping against wet skin, and your breathless moans and gasps of pleasure as Keigo continues to pummel your cunt. You go to rub your clit as he does, but he shoos it away and does it for you, rubbing the bud in time with his relentless thrusts. “No, no, no, baby,” he coos into your ear. “I told you you're mine. Which means this is my pussy too.”
His other hand suddenly moves to your leg and lifts it up, just enough for you to feel his cock sink deeper into your walls. “Oh, my God!” you holler, your head falling back in pure ecstasy as Keigo continues to fuck you silly with your leg up and his hand on your clit. “Shit, Kei, I’m gonna cum soon!”
You can feel your orgasm quickly building, that knot in your core about to snap. Keigo moves his body closer to yours and pushes it against the wall, causing your tits to squish erotically against the wet shower door. “Do it, baby,” he growls into your ear, his breath fanning over your face. “Cum for me. Cum all over this dick. Your dick.”
His words send you over the edge. You tumble down that hill hard and fall into a sea of bliss as your second orgasm washes over you. All you can say is his name and God’s name in vain as you cum all over his cock that has begun to replace its fast pumps with slow strokes, Keigo’s hips doing wonders behind you.
Keigo holds you to him as you continue to cum, breathlessly moaning into your ear. “You’re so good for me, baby,” he whispers, peppering the side of your face in kisses. “So tight…gonna make me cum soon too…”
“Do it,” you beg him. “Please cum for me. Cum inside me, daddy.”
You’re delirious with need for him, all logic going out the window. You and Keigo have always been careful, leading to him usually pulling out before cumming even though you’re on the pill. But after tonight, you want to feel all of him.
“No.” Keigo’s voice is firm and deep, almost a monstrous growl. It renders you speechless as he suddenly slips out of you and places your leg down. Before you can process what’s happening, he twirls you around and scoops you up into his arms.
You squeak in surprise at the sudden action, but say nothing as he slides the bathroom door open and exits the shower, causing the water to cut off. He is swift and quick as he makes the trip from his bathroom to his master bedroom. He wastes no time tossing you onto the bed. You gasp as you bounce slightly against the mattress, still wet and naked from the shower.
When you finally settle onto your back, you stare up at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” you ask, a little giggle leaving your lips. But you stop when you get a good look at him.
In the dim light of the moon that shines through the window, Keigo looks less than human: his eyes are a dark gold and glowing brightly as he stares down at you, his crimson-colored wings fluffier and frazzled as if someone has touched them too much and caused them to become oversensitive. Gone is the Keigo you know, replaced with a man starving for release and you.
He suddenly gets on top of you, pinning your hands over your head with one hand. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, baby girl,” he softly growls to you. “I’m gonna put your pretty ass into a mating press. Then I’m gonna fuck you deep, hard, and fast until I spray my cum all in that pretty lil’ pussy of yours. Then, when I’m done, I’m gonna pull out and spray you in the rest of it so people will know you’re mine. And you’re gonna like all of it and take all of it like my good little slut.”
He leans down so his nose is pressed against yours, his face like a full moon emerging in the sky. “Is that clear?” he gutturally asks.
Fear and arousal curl in your stomach, chasing each other around so one can be dominating your body and mind. You don’t know how you manage to speak–your mouth is so dry–but you do. A tiny “yes, daddy” leaves your lips as your pussy throbs and begs for him. “I understand,” you whisper. “Please fuck me.”
That is all Keigo needs. In a blink of an eye, your legs are thrown over his shoulder and he’s sinking his cock deep inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as he fills you to the brim, so deep that his balls hit your ass and his pelvis presses against your sensitive clit. You swear he’s never been so deep inside of you before. You can almost feel him in your stomach!
Keigo leans down so you’re face to face, chest to chest. “Can you feel me, baby?” he coos against your lips. “Is it too much for you? Am I fillin’ that poor pussy up too much?”
You whine in response, your hands gripping his shoulders. He wolfishly grins down at you, loving your submissive, dumb little state. “Don’t worry; you can take it. You’re a big girl, right?” He begins to rut into you, hips snapping against yours and cock pumping deep into your pussy. “Right?” he growls, purposely angling his hips to aim at your G-spot.
You’re seeing the entire galaxy now, your pussy spasming around his dick that mercilessly strokes your walls. When he begins to slow down to tease you, you open your mouth to cuss him out, but all that leaves is a high-pitched, incoherent whine. Keigo laughs right in your face, loving this shit.
‘Bastard,’ you think, the only clear thought in your dicked-down, fucked-out mind that isn’t the pleasure or the scent of your boyfriend. ‘Two can play at this game, bitch.’
You then take two of your fingers and proceed to lightly stroke Keigo’s feathers, taking extra care to touch each overly-sensitive, buttery-soft feather. It is enough to have Keigo’s eyes widening and his body tensing. You smirk up at him and his reaction, continuing to torture him. “Somethin’ wrong, daddy?” you innocently coo.
You then move your hands to the tips of his feathers and stroke them one at a time, running the tips of your fingers over each of them. Keigo lets out a high-pitched whine that has your pussy spasming and clenching around his cock. “D-don’t!” He cutely begs. “Gonna cum if you do that!”
“Then you’d better fuck me then.” You lock your legs tighter around his head and your hands grip him tighter, locking him in. “Cum inside of me,” you demand. “Cum with me.”
Keigo doesn’t need to be told twice. He snaps back into position and continues to pummel your cunt, his hips snapping forward again and again, driving his cock deeper into you. You gasp and moan beneath him, egging him on as you bounce against the mattress that shakes with the force of his thrusts. “Yes, baby!” you moan loudly, your voice bouncing off the walls. “That’s it! Keep going! I’m so close!”
You continue to stroke his wings, up and down, in circles, in aimless patterns that start to lose shape as he starts fucking you harder. His hands suddenly take your legs off his shoulder and pin your open thighs down as far as they’ll go as he settles deeper into you, practically mounting you now.
“You see it now?” he hums hotly against your mouth. “You see how much I love you? How much I need you?” You can’t answer him because he is now kissing you–hard, passionate, and rough. It has you seeing stars and barely catching your breath as he continues to fuck you into the mattress.
Finally, you begin to feel it: his cock swelling inside of you, signaling the beginning of his end. You look up at Keigo and find his eyes locked with yours, blonde locks in his face and sweat coating his body. “Gonna cum,” he warns. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Fill you with all of me. Gonna fuckin’ nut…”
You deliriously nod as your pussy spasms and your clit jumps, your third orgasm of the night present. “Me too!” you cry out. “Cum with me, Kei! Fill me up! Make me yours!”
Keigo doesn’t need you to say anything more. He swoops down to press his mouth to yours in an open-mouthed, tongue-swirling kiss, eating the sounds of your pleasure up as you finally cum all over his cock. He cums too, spilling his seed inside of you without a warning or a second though. A loud moan of your name and a whine of ecstasy leaves his lips as he cums, his hips stilling against yours.
You feel his cum stream inside of you, warm and overflowing. So much so that your mouth drops open and your eyes widen, the feeling foreign and intense. He coats your inside in all of his nut and doesn’t stop fucking you until his cum is finally dripping down your ass and onto the sheets.
Keigo pulls out of you quickly, making you whine at the sudden loss. His cum spills out of your pussy, the sight of it lewd yet so arousing. “God, that’s so hot!” he groans, pumping his dick in front of you, his shaft slick with his cum and yours. “Makes me wanna cum again.”
He suddenly scrambles on top of you and straddles your chest, his dick now in your face. “Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he growls. You do so, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue for all of him to coat it.
Keigo cums again, tossing his head back and moaning to the ceiling, his voice echoing off the walls. His cum coats your mouth and tastebuds as well as your tits and face, causing your eyes to flutter shut to avoid getting nut in your eyes. He coats every single inch of your skin in his cum, marking you completely as his. You feel like you’re his now, and you love every inch of it.
When you finally open your eyes, your face is wet and sticky with cum as are your chest, lips, pussy, and ass. Keigo is coming down from his high, his dick growing soft and eyes dimming. When he finally comes to and gets a look at you, he grows as red as his feathers. “Fuck, look at you!” He gasps, horrified. “Don’t move. Lemme go get a towel.”
He nearly falls out of the bed trying to get up fast enough to go run to the bathroom. You lie there, covered in cum and sedated by your three orgasms of the night. And then you begin to laugh. They come up in short giggles that reach hysteria until you’re full on guffawing in Keigo’s bed.
When he finally comes back with a soft towel wet with warm water and a glass of water, he stares at you in confusion. “What?” He asks curiously.
“Nothing,” you giggle. “That was just…really nice.” You smile sweetly at him as he crawls onto the bed and proceeds to clean you up. He moves the wet towel across your sticky, sweat and cum-soaked skin until you’re finally free of it all. Then he moves to the bedside table to get the massage oil that he’s used on you and himself many times.
You smile contently as you watch him squirt the tropical-scented oil into his hands and rub them together. He takes his time and is extra careful with your legs as he moves each one into his hands, starting from your feet to your thighs to kneed the tender flesh and massage the oil into your skin.
His hands are warm and feel so nice against your body as he rubs you down, now moving to your stomach and shoulders. He then works on your arms and hands, taking each finger and gently tugging on each one. He is an expert, paying close attention to your bones and muscles on your hand. You can’t help but be aroused from it, loving the way he takes care of you.
When he finishes with the front, he turns you onto your stomach and coaxes you to lie flat on the mattress. After he gets more oil, he continues to massage your body, his knuckles pushing into your back muscles and hands kneading the globes of your ass. Your head falls onto the bed in utter pleasure and relaxation, making your muscles less tense and loose.
“Mmm,” you moan as Keigo’s fingers start to kneed into the bones of your shoulders.
“Feelin’ good, baby bird?” he hums happily.
You nod lazily and he laughs, continuing to work your body into an absolute puddle. You love this: the tenderness that comes after some good sex. All you smell are your boyfriend and the massage oil, the scents relaxing you even further and pushing you towards sleep.
When it’s finally over, Keigo scoops you off of the bed and you let him, too relaxed and exhausted to do it yourself. “Come on, gorgeous,” he coos. “Let’s get you into bed.” He coaxes you under the covers before settling in beside you. As soon as he’s in bed with you, you snuggle up against his side and he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer than close.
“Love you,” he murmurs against your forehead that he lays kisses upon. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too, Kei,” you whisper into his neck, breathing in his smell. Your hand falls to his chest and presses against his heart, feeling it beat against your palm. “I always will.”
He stares down at you, his gaze soft yet serious. “Then if you ain’t too tired, you in the mood for a very sad backstory?” He asks, a wry smirk playing at his lips.
Suddenly, all sleepiness and the fog of relaxation are gone. You sit up onto your elbow, your heart beating a bit faster. Keigo is still staring at you, dead serious and waiting for a response. You give it to him by pressing a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his face as you do. “Always,” you whisper against his lips.
Keigo smiles and presses another kiss to your lips before you lay back down beside him, mentally and emotionally preparing for his story. He doesn’t look at you as he prepares himself, mentally pulling back the pages to the book of his life that he swore not to tell you. But after tonight, that promise is broken.
“It all starts on the little island of Kyushu,” he begins softly.
THE END.
youtube
#i cry#keigo takami x black reader#hawks x black reader#black bnha#smutty smut#my fic shit#my one shots#black fanfic writer#black coded reader#Youtube
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episode 3 - Doubt Thou the Stars
major spoilers for the show and books, swearing, I go feral on multiple occasions, spent most of this simping for cam/lockwood and I'll apologise now for some of the things I've said (multiverse of George I'm blaming you for a couple)
I would just like to reiterate that this is not a proper analysis of the show, this is my immediate reactions to what happens in the show. barely anything constructive is actually said in here 👍
a ring is what we're looking at
Georgie I love you
hands (oh dear starting early)
hands again
"which you stole illegally" honey-
you have me in a chokehold lockwood
hehehe fairfax
"George, this... negativity, it's why I don't tell you things in advance" first of all I am weirdly obsessed with the way he says that, second of all I wanna give George a hug
hands
ok but who gave cam the right to look that good
"miss Kingston got her hair done special" George I love you
"straight into the office. that's a classy move"
omg I love lucy's jumper
his cheeky smile omg
hands
ring
"you lie like a politician" yeah bc he has to
you can do any job for me lockwood
hands and ring
absolutely we have a deal I'll do anything for you
hands (omg I need to stop)
they're children how did they get alcohol
bottle opener thingy scene
omg Georgie in his apron and gloves 😭
so sad we didn't get the "nice... towel" scene
barnes is so sinister sometimes
I love lockwood and george's friendship, just yelling at each other about cleaning
ooo green lighting when she's taking the keys
tut tut
"I visit my gran in Sidcup" "...sidcup is in London"
"you've got a real hard-on for him, haven't you" "well, if... you wanna put it like that"
"I'm practically a serf" aw lockwood honey
all I can think is the Traitors castle even though I know it's not the same
lockwood's so pretty
oh lord what the hell was that look lockwood don't lower your head with that intense gaze wtf
"apart from anything else, we've got much better flares" 😂
don't you just love it when someone who doesn't have any clue about your job tells you how to do your job
lots of smashing
he's fishing (where tf did he get a fishing rod from)
hands
his grin omg
oh crikey this boy needs sleep I can see his eye bags even though the lighting is dim and my room is bright
"What, and deny us all this... beautiful moment?" you're a beautiful moment- wait that doesn't make sense
his smile I am on the floor
aaa suspense I don't like it
omg we get to see George's Touch again I love that
ew cobwebs
hands
well that was silly
oh no
you can disrespect me anytime woah what is happening to me holy shit
EXTREME CLOSE UP
ewwww cobwebs
I could never be an agent I have arachnophobia
ok those special effects were awesome
"probably wanted to warn us not to go down there" *proceed to go down there*
Lockwood say what's on your mind
ok I get why Ali said that the monks were terrifying that chanting haunts me still
turn your torches off you'll see the ghosts better
ohh I don't like this
Lucy no
LUCY NO
LUCY NOOOOOO
aw the boys saved her
hands
"make a wish" I wish for you to marry me and we live happily ever after
slap
"my cheek hurts"
husband calls out pathetically for wife after waking up, she crawls over and he reaches desperately for her hand
"oi, where's his slap?" fair
hahaha the way they just drop to the floor
you look so silly in those goggles
lockwood's voice is doing Things to me
I love that you can see Ellie rethinking as Fairfax goes on
"we don't travel round with it, we're not insane" *while focused on Lucy*
"you're just a performer too, aren't you?" we love a masking king
MICRO-EXPRESSIONS!!! CAMERON CHAPMAN THE MAN YOU ARE
"She stole it again, Lockwood" yep
I love that you can sort of make out the flowers on her dress
oh christ that was scary
ew old man burning
hands
heavy breathing lockwood (I blame the multiverse of George chat for that)
"I'm working with maniacs" got room for another one?
why did Ellie think it would be a good idea to try and run straight through the middle
"Shut up!" their faces afterwards
kipps pls stop sounding so smug
dw I believe you lockwood
punch me like that wall pls
barnes looks so sad
omg he's being a protective dad
hands
ohhhhh lockwood in a proper suit 🪣 (bad timing for it I know)
"do you know my name?" George I love you
"that's a shame, she was a fool but... she really fitted in there actually" *lockwood nudges him* George I love you even more and I think we would be the bestest of friends
I love the lavender in the pockets of Penelope and Ellie
hands
omg Lucy's drawing! like she said her hobby was in the books!
hand + ring
*George casually pulls out stolen evidence*
I want lucy's jumper
the way lockwood's sat on the chair has me weak
"You belong here" *stares at her with heart eyes*
hehehe
hehehe
oh dear
why does he keep sprawling on the chair
I don't want to talk about the sound I just made at that one frame of lockwood
"She's good, and... she's finally starting to get me" aw Georgie I love you
"she's a lot tougher than you think" *thumps as Lucy passes out*
I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE SOUND I JUST MADE AT THE OTHER ONE FRAME OF LOCKWOOD (YOU ALL KNOW THE ONE) - "Luce?" shgisuhuigjd
seriously who gave him the right
#belle's episode commentaries#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george karim#quill kipps#montague barnes
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I saw....your strawhat dynamic things and i really thought they were SO cool
One i think would be interesting would be like.
Jinbei and Franky
(If youre still doing them of course teehee)
Apologies for the late response, I’ve had COVID so I’m all fucked up and lethargic. But your ask has interested me so let's talk about Jinbei and Franky!
Similar to the Usopp and Jinbei one, there isn’t a ton of examples for them specifically interacting so that means I get to look at them separately first to analyze their potential relationship (which means I get to finally talk about Franky which is great cause I love a SUPPPPPEERRR guy!)
(Not counting Brook because he’s dead) Franky and Jinbei are the oldest members of the strawhats and they have aged VERY differently so let's look at Franky first.
Franky grew up as a violent scrap child building guns and biting his older brother. He’s running barefoot through broken glass in only a swimsuit bottom, Hawaiian shirt, and some goggles (a style choice that he will not change into adulthood). He’s all crazed feral boy energy mixed with a kind of skill only a mother could love…or rather a fish dad. Tom has the kindest soul in the One Piece canon for putting up with this absolute sewer trash of a child (he’s probably got all kinds of diseases just festering under those bottoms). This is all to say that Tom raised him to be himself and be great at what he does. Embracing his talent and skill no matter where it leads him. Tom never wanted Franky to change, only to embrace himself and optimize what he could do for others. But like all the strawhats and their dead parents, the practical application of the helpful lesson that was being taught gets cut short when you (as their child) are in some form or another, reasonable for that same parent to be killed (Sanji, Nami, Franky, Robin, and Chopper). Hard to embrace who you are when you are the reason the most important person in your life is dead….that fucks a kid up in a way that leads them to throw a lifelong tantrum where they refuse to learn the entire lesson (Chopper not learning he’s a monster, Sanji not learning his wasn’t a failure, Nami not learning to rely on people, etc.) In Franky’s case, he learned to never stop being himself and made sure to keep Tom’s legacy of taking in street rats and turning them into stubborn, hard-to-kill, assholes (/said with love). Before I give him too many brownie points for maturity though, after Tom died he COMPLETELY GAVE UP SHIP/WEAPON BUILDING, WHICH WAS TOM’S WHOLE SCHTICK! Come on man, that was his main thing!
Then he meets Luffy.
Then it’s all over for him.
I saw a post a long time ago that said ‘Franky is your dad’s friend’ and it’s so accurate. He’s old enough to be your dad, but he assumes almost zero responsibility for your health and well-being while being the most interesting person in the room by a long shot. He’s in no way the voice of reason, if it was up to him you guys would be playing paintball in the kitchen and night swimming in gator-infested waters just for the fun of it. Sure, he’ll make sure you don’t die…but he’ll still tape you to the ceiling while you’re sleeping for kicks. This is his energy in the strawhats. His being a fucking cyborg doesn’t make him the weirdest person on the ship by a wide margin and lives to be very excited by this news. He embraces the strangeness the straw hats have to offer and shoots it right back. Usopp works with him to build cooler and cooler shit. Luffy’s creativity makes the inner scrap child in him squeal with joy. Zoro and Robin are bloodthirsty psychos who make his weapon-centered brain perk up in interest. Sanji will serve his every whim, Chopper’s a fucking delight, Brook’s excellent weird old man energy, and then there is Jinbei… let's talk about Jinbei (again).
Jinbei is one of the few members of the strawhats who met Luffy after they had matured, which for the sake of this essay means they were assured of themselves and fully understood what being a part of his crew meant. Zoro showed up committed and confident, but other than that…every other crewmate needed Luffy to push them toward their dreams. Jinbei understood the assignment (because of his experience~) and showed up to join knowing full well what kind of trust and loyalty was required of him. As I mentioned in my other analysis of Jinbei, his interaction with the strawhats are all hilarious because nothing in his life could have prepared him for this. Foundationally, they operate like all good crew do…unwavering faith in their captain and fellow crewmates but that's kind of where the similarities end. He’s shell-shocked with the amount of stupid the strawhats get up to, not to mention how all of them act like children. Sanji and Zoro bicker like brothers; Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper are all easily assumed and play children's games (like tag); Nami’s stubborn to a fault; and Franky is flamboyant and ridiculous (the worst part is Robin who fully knows better but chooses to get in on all that stupid). Jinbei has to start viewing his joining of the strawhats like a retirement while still being an old kickass because if not he’s gonna lose his mind.
BACK ON TOPIC!
Jinbei didn’t have a ‘Tom’ in his life when he needed one. He was left abandoned in the fish-man district with nothing but disenfranchised kids his age and a karate dojo. Think about what Franky would have turned into if it was just him and Iceburg on Water 7…a nightmare. Jinbei grew up in an unfair situation and was reminded of that fact all through his time in the guard and in the sun pirates. He was never given an outlet or a chance to move beyond that pain in the way that Franky did. Franky wasn’t sulking about how evil pirates are because they just fucking abandoned him, no he got to move on…Jinbei can’t do that. Not only did he not have a ‘Tom’ but he also had institutionalized racism which meant no matter how much he tried to do good and move on…him being a fish-man will always be his defining feature to those bigoted One Piece citizens/marines. Because of that difference, Jinbei had to find peace through a much longer process of hatred -> violence -> compromise -> understanding -> acceptance -> strawhat-themed enlightenment. Jinbei and Fisher Tiger grew up together which inspired him to do better with Fisher Tiger leading by example. Tom already had everything worked out by the time he met Franky and was willing and able to pass on that wisdom to the dirty little scrap boy.
The difference between them lies in the difference between being taught and learning along with what nurture can do to change perspective.
(I obviously simplified the topic of racism when it comes to Fish-man and the parallels it has to real-life racism and I understand that doing so can create an incomplete picture of events but it’s fucking 1 am and that essay, while important, will be for another day).
Hope you enjoyed sorry it took me so long to write all this, I had to rewatch some early Water 7 to recall what even Franky’s childhood was like and I hope I made some good points! Thanks for the ask and the potential read!
#one piece#minty musings#character analysis#cyborg franky#franky#one piece franky#jinbei#first son of the sea jinbe#his name has got so many spellings wtf
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okay people I need everyone to drop everything now and LOOK AT MY DARLING MARI OMG, Hadley @supermarine-silvally was kind enough to make me art of Mari and I Have Not Stopped fangirling over it since they sent it to me. this is my new roman empire now (as if I need another reason to go feral over Mari)
check under the cut for a surprise 🤭 minor spoilers for Wano, but it’s just one line tbh
"Bepo, don't touch that! It's not done yet!"
The polar bear hung his head as he drew his paw back from the half-finished cannon, "Sorry."
"Don't apologize!" Penguin chastised, the penguin charm on his cap shaking in tandem with his head.
"Yeah!" Added Shachi, tossing a dirty look at Kenji, who raised his arms in surrender, "We're all on the same level here, so don't order us around like you're higher than us, Strawhat!"
"Aren’t you bossing us around right now?"
As the Strawhats -- mostly Franky and Chopper -- and the Hearts started to argue, a huff of laughter diverted the two crewmates’ attention to the last crew’s second-in-command. Killer had his arms crossed in front of his chest, mask covering his face as always; Kenji didn't make a complaint as the blond-haired man shoved through the throng of people and wrapped a muscular arm around his shoulder.
"Pretty sure Kenji knows his stuff better than you, Heart. So listen to him on this."
"Stop ordering us around!"
Chaos descended back on the Sunny as the crews, now three rather than two, shot insults and jabs at each other. Under the deck, the captains exchanged glances at the ruckus.
"Your crew’s done something again, Strawhat."
"Why me? It’s probably Jaggy's fault!"
The redhead threw a spoon at Luffy while spewing a stream of insults. Sighing, Law raised a hand to tug on his hat, only to remember that the top of his head was empty. Kid’s head was similarly void of his usual headgear, something Luffy didn’t hesitate to point out as soon as he stepped into the room.
"Jaggy! Your hair looks good without your goggles!"
Kid snapped his head in Luffy's direction. The blue hairband holding his hair back was distinctly not a part of the captain's wardrobe. Indeed, the accessory stood out among the reds and blacks that Kid favored like how Law's lack of his cap also drew Luffy's attention as soon as he saw the doctor.
"Did I miss something? Why are you not wearing your hat, Tra-guy?"
Behind him, Kid made a sound that was a mixture of a scoff and a snicker, "Yeah Doctor, where's your hat?"
With a glance at the hair accessory perched on the redhead, Law’s mouth twitched slightly, "You know perfectly well where it is."
Up on the deck, the Heart, Strawhat, and Kid pirates had each taken up a corner of the ship. Arguing about everything from whose captain was the strongest, to which crew had the greatest feats; Zoro looked ready to draw his swords and dice up the next human (or mink) who said Law was the best out of the three captains, and Kenji just seemed flattered that he managed to start such a debate.
That was, until Mari slid down from the crow's nest.
"Brook," she started, striding across the wooden floor with soundless steps, "It's your turn to keep watch, my shift's done."
The skeleton opened his mouth, but only the clack of his jawbone falling to the floor came out. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi had identical looks of shock on their faces; even Killer seemed surprised behind his mask.
Mari's forehead furrowed as she took in their expressions, "What?"
"Mari," Kenji said from his place next to the Kid Pirates’ second-in-command, "What's that on your head?"
Reaching up, Mari repeated her crewmate's question with a confused look, her eyes widened for a fraction of a second as she registered exactly what sat on her head, then her face returned to her usual expression of boredom.
"A cap."
"Just a cap?" asked Kenji, smile too wide for it to be normal. Mari’s eyes narrowed at him, but he didn't seem to be fazed by her as she answered simply:
"And some goggles."
Kenji nodded sagely, turning around to tap Killer on the shoulder, "Kill, don't you think my crewmate's new goggles look familiar?"
The blond man nodded back just as gravely, the gravity of his stance offset by a few gasps of laughter escaping him as he observed, "I've certainly seen it somewhere."
"Captain's cap?!"
"Are those Kid’s googles?!"
"Has anyone seen my jaw?!"
Numerous pairs of eyes turned around to look at Brook.
"Ah, here it is! Thank you, Robin."
Robin’s arm replied with a thumbs up.
"Ah-ah," said Kenji, bringing the attention back to the woman about to leave the deck, "where do you think you’re going, young lady?"
"I’m two years older than you."
"Barely two years older than me."
"Still counts."
"On paper maybe, but --"
"Why do you have Captain’s hat?!" Demanded Bepo, flanked by Penguin and Shachi, who were both glaring at Mari under the shades of their own hats, "You stole it, didn’t you!"
Removing her hand from the doorknob, Mari sighed softly and tugged at the spotted brim of the hat, "Your captain gave it to me."
"Did Kid also give you his goggles?" Came the question from Wire.
"He shoved them in my face and stomped off."
"Sounds like him," Heat muttered, getting a chorus of agreements from his crew.
The Heart Pirates, on the contrary, weren’t so easily convinced, "Why would our captain give anything to a Strawhat?"
Mari shrugged in response, tucking a hand behind her back as the other one started to open the door leading down into the interior of the Sunny, "He doesn’t explain things to me. And if that’s all, I’m going to finish my chores."
"I’ll come with," Sanji piped up, pushing his way through the throng to follow his crewmate, "it’s time to get started on dinner anyways."
The door swung shut behind the two.
Kenji held his hand out to Killer, who sighed and rummaged in his pockets for a wad of Berry, which he placed in the other man’s waiting palm. Brook, now with his jawbone, coughed awkwardly and moved to the crow’s nest to keep watch. Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi were still muttering and casting furtive glances at where Mari had left the deck. And for a moment, there was only the sound of waves lapping against the sides on the ship.
In the kitchen, Mari was silent as she chopped up the vegetables into small cubes; Sanji was the same while he grinded herbs and spices into a paste -- until he put down his pestle and asked:
"Is Kid wearing your hairband?"
Her knife suspended in midair, Mari glanced over at the blond, a small smirk growing on her face as she nodded.
the enabler's call: @arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @auxiliarydetective @daughter-of-melpomene @bibaybe @supermarine-silvally @fakedatings -- want to be added? shoot me an ask!!
#ugh my writing has gotten so bad I am sorry to everyone that reads it#tho tbf this is the first full something I've written in a while#this takes place in an alt universe bc there is no feasible way this could work in the current version of aim for the sun#an au where Mari doesn’t have abandonment issues and is more assertive right off the bat#I see Franky and Chopper ready to throw hands (and hooves) when cool bro Kenji gets snapped at#even tho it still feels a bit ooc to me#Kenji and Killer know what's up with Midlaw and Midlaw hates them for it#that is the same for the main story#(they definitely coined the ship name Midlaw in-universe#bc the three of them are mid af#anyhow thank you sm again to Hadley for making both arts!!#i love them if you can’t tell yet aksjaksj#oc: marionette mari#oc: himura kenji#ship: midlaw#otp: the metal strings of death#with a hint of#ship: keller#no otp title for them yet#alvita's writing#fyeahonepieceocs
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9. Which Batcher are you getting to help you when you need to fake your death?
16. Gush about your favorite Batcher
50. How do you hope the series will end
I'm gonna answer these in order!
Ask 9: Crosshair. That fucker would keep his goddamn mouth SHUT and not tell a soul. I could rely on him to keep the secret, to continue to hide my fake identity, and I believe that he could totally fucking lie well enough to keep the story straight, and make sure it's believable. It's not like he's super open and talkative, and this instance, I would be using it to my advantage!
Ask 16: Oh god, jesus, I don't even know. I've had Tech brainrot so bad these past couple of weeks. He's such a NERD. Tech is just so handsome, and we are both autistic, so I feel that he and I would meld really well together. He's handsome, he's smart, he's kind when he needs to be, and he's not without compassion and empathy. His googles just do something for me. Especially MadScientistTech! makes me kinda go feral. He's so...knowing all of the time, and in a way, it adds a sense of passive dominance to the situation that makes me knees weak. Like, yes, sir, please tell me know you know everything and put me in my place intellectually. Also, you can't look at that man and tell me that he's not hung. He's hung like a horse. That's all I have to say.
Ask 50: Dude. I know that it's so NOT going to happen. But since Tech 'died', I want StupidDumbFuckNuggetHemlock to have NOT found his body, and is just using his goggles as collateral to try and get the rest of them to surrender. I'm ngl, I don't remember the last episode very well, as I was VERY much in shock. But I want a rescue mission for Omega and Crosshair - it's a big ordeal, lives lost (maybe this would be a good place for our boy Echo to get a heroic death moment, and I want redeeming a brother to be his greater purpose, because he couldn't save Fives). All hope is seemingly lost for the mission, and then BAM, Tech comes from the inside and turns the tide (maybe with the scientist on his side, too), and they end up being able to get out. Everyone goes to therapy, they go to Pabu and RELAX because they need a fucking BREAK.
#tbb#tbb crosshair#tbb omega#the bad batch#tbb tech#the bad batch tech#the bad batch crosshair#tbb wrecker#the bad batch wrecker#tbb hunter#the bad batch hunter#the bad batch echo#tbb echo#fives#arc trooper echo#arc trooper fives#ask game
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Ok since higgs field!George is so separate from c!George have some hcs about him
• he is missing 4 fingers, 2 of them being both ringfingers
• his goggles are colorblind glasses, though he also needs normal glasses and sometimes swaps them out
• he doesn't talk much, and when he does its always the same tone - when he jokes or when he's serious (just like me frfr)
• oldest of the feral boys, thought he could rest in the dsmp from parenting his friends as he usually did which is why usually he's not on the front line during conflicts (spoiler, he was wrong and is about to pull the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" card on the feral boys and make them rethink their life choices)
• he's addicted to caffeine someone help this man. The moment he doesn't have caffeine in his body he crashes completely.
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ACHTUNG: AUTISTIC VIDYA GAEM WAIFU MAKING maybe i should continue more since i am in a textually ranty mood right now if a game gives the player the ability make their own character, my litmus test for if its a good one is if i'm able to make a sufficiently cool/cute tomboy no bias
guess i'll start with my favorite one i've made, a half orc in skay rim named her amba after watching dersu uzala since i figured that thematically the orcs in the elder scrolls games follow the tolkien derived tradtion of orcs being based on mongorians n other eastern godless savages so i guess the name of the Nanai tiger god is sufficiently oriental enough.
gave her a sorta "vulnerable badass" vibe depending on facial expression n camera angle honestly once one has had their fill of the gameplay skyrim is a good gravure game
man i love kijiko's toyger hair, bless those who ported it from sims 3 to the various bethesda games
her previous incarnation, named her kei because i am a filthy weeb liked to (and still do) use it as a more or less placeholder name
felt that i strayed too far from what can be considered "lore friendly" with her design, having human colored skin and eyes. changed character editor mods from ECE to Racemenu. ECE has much more control over the sliders, freedom is good but freedom also has its price. and so i made a spiritual successor in amba.
surprisingly, at least to me she doesn't look that bad or even better with the vanilla face/body textures. also did finally beat the main quest while playing as her so by the time i made amba there wasn't much of a point to actually playing the game
i guess still talking about skoirom why an orc/half-orc? the challenge. it's too easy with the plethora of over a decade of mods and coom glopping to make one of the human or even elven races purdy
like yeah she's cute n all but just had to fiddle with the right sliders n get the right textures speaking of elves and challenge
wanted to try retaining the ayylmaoness of TES's elves
also mashed together various mod n dragonborn dlc meshes to make a stalkery outfit, prominently the excellent wayfarer outfit n the mask from the westwind assault armor, can't remember where i got the goggles though, might be either a dwemer one or from the wet and cold series of mods
also made a feral snelf because why not was lurking /tesg/ and snelfs were prominent at that time so i wanted to put my own twist on one
i love that racemenu gives the ability to vertex edit the individual headparts, especially the teeth
fuck this is getting long, gonna make a pt 3 of this quasi series on characters i made in the 3d fallout games, abandon hope ye who enter
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