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reidingandwriting · 7 months ago

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latched on > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

Word Count: 1.3k

Ship: Sub!Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Dom!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut (very loose term), mentions of abuse from the hero commission, mentions of call girls (if you squint), mention of violence (also if you squint), allusion to sub drop

A/N: Baby’s first attempt at writing some attempt at smut, I may try and do a full smut with sub!hawks later, I love my whimpering baby bird <3

how did he go from feeling so, so good to so, so stupid in the matter of minutes?

he was in bliss not even five minutes ago, whining out mixes of your name and high keens of mommy! as you worked him through another orgasm.

bottoming was new for keigo. he had never had anyone he trusted enough to tell about his desires, with the commissions grip on him. his list of ‘approved partners’ who were vetted by the commission and could (would) be… handled properly if they were to spill any details about the number two pro hero. keigo rarely ever called them, never satisfied from the basic hookups they provided, wanting so much more from his partner that he was terrified to vocalize. hero work was so demanding, he wanted to turn his mind off and just. let someone else make the decisions for him. but that required trust, and he never had that with anyone. and then he met you.

you were a PA at his agency, and as time passed, keigo found himself captivated by you. drawn to the way you treated him as if he was any other civilian. like yeah, you recognized him as a hero and what he did. you knew your work hours would be hectic due to his hours, yet you never complained. never seemed to mind really, always greeting him with a soft smile and some form of jab about him ‘messing up your beauty sleep’. which would turn into flirty banter, little jokes, and during late nights, sleepy giggles and conversations keigo would remember forever.

the shift happened when you were a plus one to a gala with him.

‘i’m not your boss right now, stop looking so tense,’ keigo teased as he rested a comforting hand on your shoulder. ‘just think of me as your smoking hot arm candy’ you laughed at his comment and rolled your eyes.

‘okay, pretty bird’ you cooed to the hero and you bit back a grin at the way his wings puffed up from the nickname. your hand met his cheek, and you turned his head to face you. golden eyes seemed to be darker, pupils dilated as he focused on the sparkling necklace you wore. ‘if only my arm candy would pay attention to me’ you pouted and keigo’s gaze met yours.

‘how could i look away?’

from there, there had been an obvious shift in your relationship with the hero. casual touches turned into lingering, intentional touches. behind the safety of his office doors, “hawks” was occasionally replaced by ‘pretty boy/bird’ and keigo had to keep from whining every time the teasing nickname left your upturned lips.

he wasn’t sure exactly what shifted that got keigo in this situation. but he found himself pinned under you, writhing under your touch. gentle touches, firm grabs. feather light touches that left him begging for more, hard grips that had him squirming and thrashing, threats of tying him down only exciting him more.

he was beautiful, you kept telling him. which he heard from fans every day, he knew he was attractive. but hearing it from you? a whole other feeling. whimpering each time ‘look so pretty, birdie’ or ‘my beautiful boy, gonna cry for me?’ and ‘my good boy, so good for me’ slipped from your lips. his breaking point? your fingers gently lifting his chin up so his teary gaze met yours, peppering his face with kisses and whispering in his ear ‘wanna see you cum, songbird. deserve it, pretty boy, i’ll take care of you. just let go’

and god did he let go. strings of white spurted from his cock, over your hands, over his stomach, but keigo was too spent to care. he was truly fucked Stupid, basking from your coos as you talked him down, your hands petting him as he calmed down. suddenly, there was a shift in the mattress and keigo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your arm, panic filling his body as he begged you not to leave him, he’ll be good, please stay, please let him stay, and he felt his grip on you tighten. and there’s where he made his biggest mistake. he couldn’t let go.

“it’s okay, birdie. i’ll be right back, just gonna get something to clean you up.” you soothed and you frowned lightly as his grip didn’t relent. “hawks?”

keigo flinched from the use of his hero name, missing the nicknames that you called him just a minute ago. “i-i’m sorry. ‘m so sorry, i can’t-“ keigo started to hyperventilate and you were on him in a second, by his side and pulling him closer to you. keigo curled into your body, face buried in the crook of your neck, and tears burned in his eyes. moments of silence passed until it dawned on you.

“you can’t let go, can you, bub?” you asked and keigo shook his head.

“it, it will stop in a little bit. i just… i thought you were leaving me and. i panicked, i lost control. ‘m so sorry,” keigo whispered and you carded your fingers through his messy hair, smiling as you felt the tension start to leave his body.

“not going anywhere, promise. just wanted to get you a washcloth so we could clean you up a little bit. but i can wait. however long you need, love.” you pressed a kiss to keigo’s head, humming as you slowly rocked him. you figured this could happen, but you thought it was such a small chance, you didn’t really prepare for it. but it was hawks. your hawks, your birdie. you could adapt. you’d take care of him.

a while later, keigo’s grip started to release, and as soon as he was able, keigo pulled his hand away. you tutted at him and took his hand in yours, and you started to massage the hand that had been gripping your arm. keigo found himself staring at the spot he had grasped you, hurt you he’s sure, and you called his name.

“are you okay now?” keigo blinked at the question. “feel up for a shower to clean up?”

“you.. you’re worried about me still? i hurt you.”

“and i just spent god knows how long overstimulating you. probably a little painful, even if it felt good.” you tilted keigo’s head up and pressed a lingering kiss to his plush lips. “i told you, hawks. i care about you, i’m here to take care of you. as long as you’ll let me.” it was your turn to blush, your cheeks burning but you kept keigo’s gaze.

“keigo.” he found himself whispering. “name’s keigo.” you mouthed his name, whispered it to yourself and the prettiest shade of pink covered keigo’s cheeks. “if it’s not gonna be any of your little nicknames, i.. i’d prefer keigo outside of work.”

“well, keigo,” you smiled as you pulled his hand to your lips, kissing over every knuckle. “why don’t we get you cleaned up? then we can come back to bed, order some takeout for dinner? i can make breakfast for us in the morning,” you offered and keigo felt his heart flip in his chest at your offer.

“that sounds perfect.”

an hour later, you were cuddled in bed, keigo on his stomach, head on your stomach as his wing draped over you. his breath hit your stomach, soft puffs leaving his lips as he slept peacefully. you combed through his damp hair, occasionally running your hand down between his shoulder blades just to see his wings flutter and his breathing shake a little. a small smile graced his lips as he slept and you let your eyes close, a matching smile on your lips as you dozed off into the best sleep of your life. you could get used to this…

#mha #bnha #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #sub!hawks #bottom!hawks #hawks smut #smut #mha smut #bnha smut #baby’s first smut fic #smut is a very loose term in this fic #i wrote this in like an hour

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buttercreamdicks · 15 days ago

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I guess if I am going to gather my thoughts about Link and the Eagle, I first have to gather my thoughts about Link and gender and expression. I have been through a lot of fandoms, I have been through a lot of ships, and I have always been against the oft-pervading logic that "This man is gay because [insert stereotypes of gay men performing femininized behaviors or underperforming masculinized behaviors]." One of the reasons I interpret my feelings on Link and gender as #my lesbian queen link neal is -- well, okay, because it's nonsensical and funny, but also because I specifically do not really want to fanon that he is gay because he wears a purse or whatever. One of the other reasons I interpret my feelings on Link and gender as a joke about being a queer female is because when Link says he is an unserious man I feel that unseriousness in manhood as hewing close to my own experience as a queer female; I recognize a lot of my own self or at least my own self's willingness to be "weird" (i.e., plainly honest) about gender and sexuality and affection in the idiosyncratic ways he expresses these things as well.

The main thing that hooked me into Rhett & Link was finding out that they grew up in the Southern conservative Evangelical culture in the '90s. Something that I think about a lot is how Rhett has talked about how Link was the weird kid, how people found him annoying, how he stayed at home and played with his wrestling dolls, how the moment they really became best friends was when Rhett punched that kid for making fun of Link. How in high school everyone thought they were gay. Rhett spent almost all his time with Link anyway. How even now Rhett talks about having to protect Link from himself, from embarrassing himself. And how Link talks about himself as someone who commits faux pas, and about liking that he has a safety net in Rhett, someone who will watch out for him.

Like the thing about Rhett is he performs the masculinity they grew up with well, and apparently always has: good grades, good athlete, just enough unexamined toxicity to his masculinity that he often doesn't pass my vibe check. I didn't grow up in the South or in Christianity but I grew up in the late '90s and I was steeped in enough of same culture of gender that I can recognize the mannerisms that Link has even today that would have been labeled as "weird," and the names he might have been called: sissy, mama's boy, fag. Rhett could have gone through life without ever encountering that, but he didn't. He chose to stick with Link, and he chose specifically to stick with a conception of himself as protecting Link.

And the thing with Link is he continued to be the way he was. He kept enough of those same mannerisms and ways of expressing himself that even now, as a grown man, he is the one a fandom will say is gay, is the twink, is the bottom. Whether he explicitly chose not to change, or is just one of those people who is incapable of not being exactly himself, I don't know. Probably both? Most of us who are queer (in the sense of sexuality or in the sense of being seen as strange) are both.

I also think sometimes of what Link's conception of himself would be if he weren't surrounded by people who have known him forever, or people who know someone who’s known him forever. If everybody's first impression of him wasn't mediated by a bunch of people who carry around his old teenage self crystallized in amber, who grew up in the same culture that thought he was weird, who still spend their time thinking they need to run interference for the way he talks and acts and feels. Because another thing that hooked me into Rhett & Link was how nearly every person in every piece of media they produce says "This guy is weird and awkward and makes people feel bad" when everything I took from watching him was This guy is honest and open and makes me feel good. Like if you just met him, on your own, would you even think anything was strange? If it was just him, without his past, would anybody think he wasn't enough?

#link neal #gme #gme4 #my lesbian queen link neal #tiny big man #just yourself be if weird is you

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alittlebitofloveliness · 3 months ago

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Johnny Cade fic

Sometimes, keeping secrets is necessary.

For all the gang is close, close as brothers- sometimes closer than that if Soda and Steve’s weird dynamic is anything to judge by- Johnny knows that some things are best kept between two people, three in some situations, or guarded closely to oneself when a secret is more shame than anything more. It’s why he and Dally patch each other up so often and leave the others out of it, Dally with his warlike ways and gritty survival, him with his stupid broken heart and the bruises it earns him. It’s easier he thinks, to keep that sort of sharing and vulnerability for two people instead of seven, just like it’s easier for Darry to only ever truly talk to Two-bit, and for Soda to haul Steve out for a drag race when he shows up on the Curtis’ front porch with cold eyes and yet another bloody lip. Not everyone needs to know everything. Some things are best kept between a few folks, and if those things are named secrets, well, so be it. It would do more harm than good for Darry to find out what Pony says when he’s ranting to Johnny, and Dal never needed to know half the things Johnny and Darry did to get him out of scrapes he never even realized he’d gotten himself into.

Another thing Johnny knows about secrets: some are more important than others. Knowing the nickname Steve’s mom used to call him is a far less important secret than the real reason Dal left New York, but Johnny keeps any and every secret entrusted to him locked up tight behind layers of stubbornness that could rival Pony in even his most pigheaded moods. He learned a long time ago that loose lips sink ships- and he couldn’t live with himself if something he knew and let slip ever ended with one of the gang getting hurt. Hell, he can hardly stand to live with himself now.

“Stupid grease,” For a second Johnny thinks the insult is being tossed at him, but when he looks up the soc- some asshole with the dumbest fucking haircut Johnny’s ever seen- doesn’t appear to have even noticed he’s rounded the corner as he grumbles to the rest of his buddies all dressed in letterman jackets and combover hairdos, “can’t believe some greaseball kid thinks he can work with my girl.”

“Least the kid is smart,” a guy with a yellow madras shirt Johnny recognizes from his own C level english class says. Johnny had thought he was dumb as a post before he’d been sat next to the guy. Compared to goldie he was fucking Einstein himself, “I got stuck with Rosie. Dumb bitch wouldn't recognize her own face in a mirror.”

Look who’s talking, Johnny thinks, fully intending to keep minding his own business. Socs pissed off and planning to jump a greaser kid was nothing new in the halls of Tulsa high, and he wasn’t planning to stick around and find out which unlucky guy was gonna be the latest target of the football team. Maybe they’d be stupid enough to go after Curly Shepard again and get their asses handed to him. Johnny fucking hates Curly shepard, but even he has to admit the guy is a straight up beast in a fight. Real tuff.

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some freshman grease named after a damn horse chat up my girl.” The soc with the ugly haircut sneers, “we’re gonna teach that kid a lesson. Lawson says the kid’s on the track team, so we’ll catch him when he’s done practice so the coach don’t go looking.”

The soc keeps talking, joking with his buddies, probably describing in vivid detail how he’s planning on beating up Johnny’s best friend- his thirteen year old best friend- into a pulp. Johnny can’t hear it anyway- not over the roaring in his ears.

Steve is cursing and fighting with his combination lock when Johnny finds him just outside the science wing, his carefully gelled hair a stark contrast to his grease stained t-shirt. For all the dark cloud of his mood is nearly visible, Johnny still can't help but feel bad for him. Soda had officially dropped out just over a month ago and Steve was still taking it mighty hard. He kind of understood- Steve didn’t have a ton of friends besides the gang, and with Evie skipping half the week and Soda working full time, Steve's social circle at school had shrunk to near zero.

“We got a problem,” Johnny tells him without preamble, and there’s a grim determination in Steve’s eyes when he turns to him, nodding and following him down the hallway without a word. Besides his gruff but unflinching loyalty, one thing about Steve that Johnny appreciates is that, like him, Steve feels no need for meaningless pleasantries.

As they stalk through the halls, no doubt looking like they mean business if the way socy girls and a few fresh men give them a wide berth is anything to judge by, Steve doesn’t ask questions, no doubt knowing that Johnny will explain everything as soon as they track down Two-bit.

“Two,” Steve barks as soon as they spot him, flirting with a pretty blonde who’s rolling her eyes but moving closer to him just the same, “let’s go. We got a problem.”

He must be able to tell he’s serious because he gives the blonde a final leer and joins them immediately.

“What’s goin’ on? I’d nearly talked her into lettin’ me take her to the Dingo on Saturday.”

“There’ll be other girls for you to disappoint sexually,” Steve rolls his eyes, “but Johnny says we got a problem right now.”

He turns to Johnny expectantly.

“I overheard some socs earlier talkin’ ‘bout Ponyboy,” Johnny starts. Both older boy’s eyes darken, comprehension dawning. This isn’t the first time one of them overheard some soc planning to give Pony a good jumping and Johnny doubts it’ll be the last, just like he knows it won’t be the last time he, Steve, and Two will fight them off before they can so much as breathe wrong in pony’s direction. Of all the secrets he keeps Johnny thinks this might be the most important, and he thinks Two and Steve feel the same way. Darry and Soda worry about Pony enough as it is, they hardly need to be terrified about him getting beat up at school too; and Pony would never forgive them fighting his battles for him. Hell, if he ever found out he’d probably pick a fight with a soc on purpose just to prove he’s tough. He still don’t get it, that he’s tough enough already for all he likes his books and movies and stuff. Not many folks can go through what Pony’s gone through and not lose a piece of themselves that Pony has kept spectacularly, miraculously, intact.

“Said they were plannin’ on jumpin’ him after track practice,” Johnny continues, “it was some guy with a dumb haircut, and that guy I sat with in english last year. Mark somethin’?”

“Bradshaw, I think,” Steve spits, “Sounds like him and Ian Cosegrove. They were in my history class last year, and they’d probably be in Pony’s english class now he’s been moved up. One of them has that real dumb haircut?”

“That’s them.”

Two bit cracks his knuckles, “Let’s go.”

It’s not hard to track the socs down from where they’re hanging out on the hood of some flashy mustang Johnny wished he could steal. It also isn’t hard to beat the two of them to a pulp, and their buddy who joined in too, because for all they’re football player they aren’t greasers, and they aren’t filled with the sort of fiery rage that’s coursing through Johnny’s veins, and Two-bit and Steve’s too.

Sure, no one was allowed to mess with anyone in the gang, but that went double for Ponyboy. None of them would ever be right again if anything happened to the kid, and they all knew Darry probably couldn’t survive it. Hell, Soda couldn’t either,

Later that day, after Steve has waited around an hour to drive he and Ponyboy home just in case, Johnny hides his swollen knuckles in his jacket pockets and tucks this latest fight close to his chest, another secret best kept to himself.

He’d never have it any other way. Steve and Two wouldn’t either. The Curtis’ looked out for them all- it was only right they return the favour whenever and however they could.

Johnny listens to Pony and Steve argue, watches Two light up a cigarette, and smiles.

It’s no secret it’s tough sometimes to be a grease. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#the outsiders #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #the outsiders fanfiction

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krispycreamcake · 3 months ago

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hihi could u do sakamaki with like a former (or current!) idol s/o? also i LOVED your x reader fic i think ive read it like 3 times 😭😭

From author: OH MY GOD THANK YOUUUUU I APPRECIATE THIS SM

Sakamaki brothers with an ex idol s/o

Shu Sakamaki

🎻- I don't imagine he's the type to keep up to date with pop culture or any celebrities nowadays. He'll know some mainstream artists simply for the fact that he literally can't avoid hearing about them

🎻- Unless your music is suuuper popular, he has no idea who you were

🎻- Now depending on why you stopped being an idol, this could be a good thing since he wouldn't recognize you and have assumptions about you

🎻- Now on the off chance that he DOES know who you are, he'll either tease/make fun of your style of music or compliment you

🎻- I beg, do not take his mean girl bs to heart, this man listens to classical music, he of all people shouldn't be judging anyone's music. Ever

🎻- He'll definitely ask you to sing for him just so he could hear your vocal range (perhaps for other reasons than just curiosity)

🎻- Now when he does inevitably realize you were an ex idol, his immediate question is why'd you stop even though he won't voice it

🎻- He'll be glad that you told him as it relieves him of the hassle of getting in your personal business

🎻- As your boyfriend, his top priority is keeping you alive and safe, and trust that he knows how creepy fans can be. Which is why when you're out in public, he makes sure to always know where you are 24/7, keep your face covered with either a scarf or a hat or even his chest

Reiji Sakamaki

☕️- I'm sorry to all you Reiji fans out there, but his top concern is the fact that you both are involved romantically

☕️- Now I'm not saying he doesn't want to be in a relationship and all that, but similar to Shu he knows how obsessive fans can get and is slightly worried that because of that, you'll eventually find out who or what he truly is

☕️- And the only reason I say this, is because of the influence his father has due to how well known he is throughout Japan, and if anyone were to connect the dots and realize that Reiji was his son, with sufficient research, certain things mightn't add up (well that's his biggest fear at least)

☕️- If anything, he's proud that you were able to make something of yourself with your musical talent unlike a certain someone

☕️- The obvious question is why you stopped being an idol, and not like his brother, he'd outright ask you what happened

☕️- He'd do his own research on you and wouldn't even realize that he's spent about an hour and a half looking at fan pages of you and your official website

☕️- When he does realize however, he'd get slightly embarrassed by the fact that he was infatuated by a screen version of you when he has the real you at his fingertips

☕️- If you didn't tell him you used to be an idol and he had to find out on his own, he'll think you're hiding other important parts of your life from him and he'd have a bit of an issue trusting you

Ayato Sakamaki

🏀- Yours truly is dating and idol?? Of course he's bragging to his brothers any chance he gets

🏀- Jokes about how you meeting him was destiny since he wouldn't like his s/o being fawned over by the entirety of Japan

🏀- Asks you about your experiences as an idol, like if you ever had any creepy fan interactions, your type of fan base, how dealing with your managers used to be

🏀- Just know that both Ayato and Reiji are on their s/o's wiki page late up at night (day?)

🏀- Is honestly in love with your stage costumes and absolutely adores your choreography (I have a small hc that ayato can breakdance so he has an appreciation for modern dance styles)

🏀- Gets extremely jealous and annoyed that you used to be shipped with any other pop idols

🏀- Remember that wiki page thing I mentioned earlier? Yeah he'll see the recommended search being "Are your name and random idol dating?" And literally never recover

🏀- "Who do those bastards think you belong to? Ore-sama's your one true match so those other fuckers can piss the hell off!"

🏀- Badly imitates your performances as a means to make fun of you but you always end up laughing with him by the end of it and even joins him

Laito Sakamaki

🃏- He probably knew you were an idol before you did honestly

🃏- Okok jokes aside, he knows who you are and if you think you can lie to him about it, he WILL find a way to contradict you in your own lie

🃏- Honestly, he sometimes even listens to your music

🃏- Laito pegs me as the type of guy to let all your fans know who you belong to

🃏- BEFORE YOU BLOW MY HOUSE UP, yes, I am aware that that's more Ayato's schtick

🃏- But hear me out, if you were Laito and you were dating a super hot, super talented ex idol, would you not leave hickeys in places all their fans could see?

🃏- Think of all the drama you could cause, hearing all their futile guesses on which famous idols could have done it

🃏- He would have a fielddddd day with you, listening to all the gossip about the kind of person you are when he knows none of it is true

🃏- Like all others, he's painfully aware of how weird and obsessive fans can get, so he takes time out of his day to scour the sketchiest of accounts making sure none of your private info is leaked

🃏- He follows you around like a lost puppy just to make sure you aren't idolnapped

🃏- Genuinely sings your songs really well and has at home duets with you

Kanato Sakamaki

🧸- I don't think he keeps up with pop culture THAT much, but he knows general artists

🧸- When he finds out who you are (if you decide not to tell him) he would be pissed ngl

🧸- It's not like he's just a random stranger that you just met, you're supposed to love him and trust him with any and everything

🧸- He'll probably ask you to do some dark twisted thing to prove yourself to him

🧸- He's so in love with your style, like he WISHES you were still an idol so he could sew your outfits

🧸- Actually scratch that, he still makes them for you when you need to do a random ad that a company paid you to do

🧸- He treats you as his own personal mannequin

🧸- From hair, to clothes, to makeup, to nails, he'll do it all

🧸- He asks you to sing with him and it's become his favourite activity

🧸- Sitting on the balcony edge at night with no one to disturb the both of you as his hand cradles yours, your both voices singing in absolute harmony, he physically cannot get enough

🧸- "Mother would make me sing until my vocal chords bled, I doubt you had to do anything as extreme, right doll? Besides, I'm the only one who should be causing you pain."

Subaru Sakamaki

🥀- I know he doesn't look like it, but he's very up to date with pop culture

🥀- He could spot you instantly in a crowded room

🥀- Yes, he's one of your biggest fans ever

🥀- He literally knows the lyrics to most of your songs and would sing them at karaoke

🥀- If you don't mention that you're an ex idol, he'd be glad since that gives him less of an opportunity to embarrass himself

🥀- Stays up thinking about how he's literally dating his idol

🥀- This however makes him wayyyy more of a tsundere than he already is

🥀- He'll act like he knows absolutely nothing about you but somehow knows your favourite colour, animal, food and whether you prefer coffee or tea

🥀- Yeah he will pretend he's never heard of you before but you'll soon catch on when you hear him humming one of your songs when he doesn't think anyone's around

🥀- The only person that can confirm your suspicions are Shu since it wouldn't be the first time this has happened

🥀- Once everything was out in the open, he'd slowly become just a tiny bit more confident in himself and ask the age old question "Why did you quit?"

🥀- Gets jealous with how many of your fans are freaks that make thirst edits of you

🥀- Please reassure him that he's enough for you

🥀- When you're dating a literal pile of talent, you begin to second guess yourself

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jiveyuncle · 10 months ago

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Keith never believed he'd have a long life. He always figured he'd die young and that his death would serve some purpose. He'd die taking a hit for a teammate. Or go up in the flames of a violent explosion while dragging a civilian out of a targeted building. Or crashing his ship at Naxzela to prevent an entire system from being incinerated.

Keith was going to die. He was going to die young. His death would mean something.

He thought these things were a given - facts inscribed on the essence of his being - as unavoidable as a dream, programmed into him the way sleep always eventually demanded dragging creatures to realities outside their own.

Keith was reckless, not because he didn't value his own life - that value could be measured by what he did with it and what he could achieve by risking it - but because he valued others’ more. He was reckless because he cared too much - about the success of the mission, about someone left behind, about everything and everyone else - and that caring was going to be what got him killed. His paladin teammates shouted it at him after every rash decision. His blade comrades acknowledged it with approving nods after each close call. He would easily give up his life if his death meant someone else was saved.

So, when he wakes inside Red, blinking his eyes open only to come face to face with himself in the pilot's chair, things don't click right away. It's not that Keith is dead - that part he accepts instantly, understands on some subconscious level in the same inexplicable way the astral plane connects minds and quintessence links paladins to their lions - but it's the how that his brain isn't processing. It's not that he is staring at his own slumped lifeless body, but it is the trusted Blade member he'd been tasked with transporting to a location to disclose the latest intel on Galran troop movements simply dislodging their blade from Keith's neck, tucking the knife away in their armor, walking to the exit, and leaving as if nothing had just happened. It’s Pidge joking into the comms of Keith's helmet, and Lance joking back, completely unaware of the fact that in a moment, without fight, without reason or warning, without some big sacrificial act, Keith just ceased to exist.

It takes them 15 seconds to write off Keith's lack of a response to the joke as him being peeved about being the butt of it.

It takes them 5 minutes before Lance starts offering lighthearted apologies in the form of backhanded compliments.

It takes them 15 minutes to discover that Keith isn't at the meetup location at the time they agreed on and to realize something is actually wrong.

They find Keith's body cold.

There's a lot of panic that feels much too sudden and extreme after drifting through space with his own corpse in the quiet cabin for so long - too many emotions in his friends faces, loud cracking voices, shaking hands.

Lance presses a palm to the gash in Keith's neck and grabs a control arm with the other, begging Red to take them home. He can't feel how cold Keith's skin is through the climate-controlled gloves of his suit, but he has to recognize there is no pulse beneath his fingertips. “If you've ever loved Keith,” he pleads anyway, as if he doesn't already know.

They rush his body out like getting him to a pod will be of any help.

Keith can’t feel his body, but he feels tears on the floor of the cockpit and the vibration of feet down Red's ramp. He doesn’t sense pain, but he tastes his own congealed blood in the chair and, later, the antiseptic Coran returns with.

This is how Keith dies. Quietly. Without purpose. Alive one moment, and then not - wiped away with a cleaning rag beneath clenched fists, secret shuddering breaths, and a mouth whispering his name for the first time alongside words of regret.

Dead Keith/Red Paladin Lance AU (Part 2/?)

The event that set things in motion.

I’ve always wanted a canon story where the main character dies in some anticlimactic way, but I don’t ever see it because I assume it would really anger a fanbase or just feel really dissatisfying. The big question of, “For what reason? What purpose did that death serve?” And the reality is, death doesn’t usually come in the form of sacrifice or to satisfy some narrative. I’m obsessed with the idea of someone so important, a character who has lived through so many close calls just dying in such a simple and unexpected fashion - of dying without anyone knowing. It has to really fuck with Keith’s teammates extra bad - suddenly not knowing who they can trust, wondering any time there’s silence on the comms if one of their other friends just died without them noticing. Them each picking up little habits to signal to the others that they’re okay - Lance humming, Pidge tapping her fingers near the mic, Shiro clearing his throat, Hunk popping his lips. Uhg.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You can now read this on AO3 as:

Empty Spaces You Left Behind

#keith kogane #lance mcclain #pidge holt #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #fanart #fanfic #major character death #cw blood #dead keith red paladin lance au #Empty Spaces You Left Behind

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paisleypens · 3 months ago

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teee heeee i’m backkkkkk

could we get where reader is also a streamer and they start streaming together (reader isn’t in cali) and they start a long distance maybe they meet at the end that’s up to you

spencers first minecraft date! | spencer agnew x reader

so so sorry i was gone for so long lmao the motivation was just not there. sorry this specific request took so long my love but im here to feed my smosh babes. also is the title giving a games title or? idk but i think i cooked lemme know

~~~

You adjusted your webcam and glanced at the chat as you booted up Minecraft. Today was the day you’d been waiting for—the launch of a new Minecraft server for twitch streamers. You'd been buzzing with excitement since the invite landed in your inbox a week ago, and your viewers seemed just as hyped.

“Hey, everyone!” you greeted as your screen transitioned to the familiar blocky landscape. “We’re jumping into this new Minecraft server today with a bunch of other streamers. I’m so pumped to meet everyone and see what chaos we can create!”

As you navigated through the spawn area, you noticed a few players running around—some of them big names you recognized from streams and videos. But one name stood out: Spencer Agnew. You’d known Smosh and even caught a few of his streams before and always appreciated his chill vibe and sharp humor.

“Yo, Y/N!” Spencer’s voice came through your headset, catching you off guard but making you smile.

“Hey, Spencer! Didn’t expect to run into you so soon,” you replied, trying to play it cool.

“Well, here I am. I don’t really want to do the boring stuff alone, you down to team up?”

“Let’s do it,” you said, grinning.

You both went off starting with the basics—mining, gathering resources, and exploring the terrain. Time seemed to fly by as you bantered back and forth, and your chat was loving the dynamic.

“So, I’m thinking we need to build something epic. How about a house-building contest?” you suggested after a while.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? Alright, Y/N, you’re on. But don’t cry when I win,” Spencer joked.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” you shot back, laughing.

The competition was fun and lighthearted, with both of you trying to one-up each other while the chat egged you on. In the end, it was too close to call.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” Spencer said, surveying both builds. “This is a draw. They’re both sick.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, smiling. “Good game, Spencer.”

As weeks passed, you and Spencer found yourselves teaming up more and more, both on and off stream. Your viewers started to notice too, spamming your chat with ship names and yours feeds with fan art. You two clicked, and it made for some really fun content.

One weekend, after a particularly successful stream, Spencer shot you a message: “Hey, after the stream, you wanna do something chill? Maybe watch a movie together?"

You blinked at the screen, feeling a flutter of excitement. “Like a virtual date? I’m in. What are we watching?"

“How about 'The Princess Bride'? Total classic."

"I’m so down. Let’s do it."

After the stream, you both synced up on a streaming service and hit play. As the movie went on, you kept up with your usual banter and jokes, making each other laugh. It felt natural, almost like you were in the same room.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this before,” Spencer teased as the credits rolled.

“I know, I know, I’m late to the party. But thanks for inviting me to watch it with you,” you replied, feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

“Anytime. This was fun. We should do it again,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

From then on, these virtual hangouts became a regular thing. Whether it was watching movies, playing other games, or just chatting while you both cooked dinner over video call, it became something you both looked forward to.

One night, after you’d finished a particularly epic stream where you and Spencer had defeated the Ender Dragon, you found yourselves lingering in the game, just chatting while your avatars stood idly by a pixelated sunset.

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice softer, more serious than usual.

“Yeah?” you asked, wondering what was on his mind.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately. These past few weeks have been awesome. Like, seriously awesome. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better,” he admitted.

You felt a flutter in your chest. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Spencer. It’s been so much fun hanging out with you.”

He paused for a moment, and you could almost feel him gathering his thoughts. “I think… I’ve caught feelings for you. I know we’re miles apart, but I wanted to be honest about it.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in before a smile broke out across your face. “Spencer, I feel the same way. I don’t know how we’re going to make it work with the distance, but I’m in if you are.”

The relief in his voice was palpable. “I’m definitely in. We’ll figure it out, whatever that means.”

#smosh #spencer agnew #smosh fanfiction #smosh x reader #spencer agnew x reader #paisleypens

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perseephoneee · 11 months ago

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New years party with kate bishop!

new years (kate bishop x f!reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 8 of ficmas!

a/n: I genuinely like this one, and if ANYONE knows me, then they know that kate bishop has been my hero since I read the comics in 2015. i hope this is okay for my wifey @mayfieldss

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Since your first year of high school, you have been attending New Year's parties with Kate Bishop. They were always hosted by your classmate, Agatha Maloney, a bubbly girl with a penchant for party planning. The parties involved games, champagne stolen from her parents, and enough fairy lights to brighten a small city. You and Katie would show up, eat all the hors d’oeuvres (you hated the spicy chips that Kate would always consume), and perform a Bon Jovi duet. And every year, you would wait outside watching the snow fall in clumps across the city while Kate was inside kissing someone else at midnight. You used to think you were just jealous that she could find someone when you couldn’t, but now, you recognize it for what it was. You’re in love with your best friend and can never tell her.

It was the last New Year's before you split for university. You weren’t sure if you’d have another New Year again; if you did, it wouldn’t be the same. Your classmates would have new friends and new stories. New inside jokes that you wouldn’t understand. You and Kate were attending different colleges. It's the same city, but different. Kate had a lot more money to afford a fancy university, and you were scraping by with tuition (that you were thankful for, don’t get it twisted). But even next year, what would you do when you didn’t share the same wavelength?

It didn’t stop the two of you from laughing as you bound up the doorsteps to Agatha’s. Kate wore a simple, long-sleeve black dress that ended at her knees and matching ankle boots that still made her look beautiful but rugged. You opted for a strapless jumpsuit. You and Kate had a weird apparel rule: if one person wore a dress, the other wore a jumpsuit. So that you always compliment the other person.

“OMG, you guys came!” Agatha squealed as you approached the front door. Her blond hair was curled like a ‘20s flapper girl, her lips the color of bubblegum. She hugged both of you, almost suffocating you with her grip. “I’m so excited you came here for our last official hurrah. It’s not a party unless the dynamic duo is here.”

“You always know how to make us feel welcome,” you mumble, trying to dislodge yourself from her arms. Agatha was a sweet girl but very intense. And pushy.

“You can let go now,” Kate choked, sending you a look of distress as Agatha officially detached herself. Kate sent you a look as you both followed Agatha into the house. Most of your classmates were experiencing the wonders of intoxication, and you appeared not to have missed a single critical moment. “Is it just me, or does she get crazier yearly?”

“She’s certifiable,” you chuckle, nudging Kate as you make a bee-line to the snacks. You shove your mouth full of pretzels and tomato cheese covered in balsamic vinegar. There’s a name for the snack, but you can’t remember and don’t care as you let the tastes overwhelm your tongue. As usual, Kate eats the hot Cheetos until her fingers are dyed red. She smiles at you over red Cheeto dust, and you think that even though she is messy, she looks beautiful. Instead of saying so, you just make fun of her.

“Do you think that a cheetah has seen a Cheeto and thought, that’s cannibalism?” Kate asks you, eating more Cheetos.

“I think you’re crazy,” you laugh, grabbing a plastic flute for the champagne and pouring you and Katie a glass. “A cheetah is more likely to wonder how it became a mascot wearing sunglasses.”

“Because it’s the cool thing to do, obviously,” Kate took the glass you handed her, taking a sip before excitedly motioning to the set-up karaoke machine. “Showtime!”

Every year, you debated what to perform. And you still ended up doing “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi every year. You needed to spice up your choices, but you two were old souls who got too impassioned with Bon Jovi. During the instrumental breaks, you guys would yell out how many measures were left and march across the stage. You even had experimental pop star names (“If Beyonce goes by Sasha Fierce on stage, why shouldn’t we?” said Kate).

You finished your duet to a round of applause like always. And just as you finished, one of the attendees turned on the New York countdown so everyone could wait till the ball dropped and the new year was ushered in. You averted your eyes when you saw Stephanie from your chemistry class taking second glances at Kate. You ignored the feeling that gripped your heart when you saw Kate looking back. You thought this would be a good cue to step outside, like every year, and watch the snow fall as you ignored your heart breaking into pieces inside the house.

The balcony was covered in a light layer of frost. Agatha’s home always had boughs of greenery wrapped around the terrace, with beautiful sparkling lights that reflected the city spread out before you. You wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, letting your breath fog in front of you. You huffed like a dragon and giggled to yourself. You liked seeing the tall buildings sprawled out in front of you, the little houses in front like a treeline to the secrets further back. The sounds of the ten-minute countdown could be heard from inside, but you let it become a dull sound in your ears. You were in blissful silence until you heard the balcony door close behind you.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Katie asked, coming up right next to you. You look over, noticing she put on her coat and a beanie to fight the freeze.

“It gets stuffy in there,” you turned back to the city, feeling the heat of Kate’s arm next to yours.

“I hear that; it’s like a sauna,” she chuckles. You sit in silence for a while. “Can I ask a question?” You gesture for Kate to continue.

“Why do you come out here every year?”

You let the question hang in the air, unsure how to answer. How do you tell someone that you leave because you’re in love with them? Because watching them kiss someone else kills you? Because you want to grab and kiss them as firecrackers erupt in the air, just like they would in your heart? You opt to lie instead.

“I don’t like watching people make out,” you awkwardly chuckle. “PDA is weird.” Kate gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t believe you. Your breath is shaky as you exhale. “Maybe there’s no one available worth kissing.”

You freeze up as Kate grabs your hand with her own, intertwining your fingers. Her hands are rough and calloused from all her physical activities, compared to your soft ones untouched by nature.

“The person I would want to share my kiss with is never here,” Kate whispers. “She always goes outside and hides.”

Your heartbeat is heard in your ears to the point where you almost miss the countdown starting from inside. You make eye contact with Kate, her blue eyes wide as she looks at you. She seems as nervous as you are, making you feel better. The party attendees start to count down from ten.

“Y/N,” Kate says, snow coating her hair in beautiful crystals.

There are only five seconds left on the clock. When it hits one, you lean forward and kiss Kate, enjoying the gasp she lets out from surprise. Cheers are heard not just from inside but from the city, neighbors, and everywhere as people welcome the new year. Your hand cups her face, twisting in her black hair as she wraps her arms around your middle, pulling you close. You feel freezing and yet on fire as you kiss the love of your life on New Year’s Eve. A bad taste makes you pull away.

“Did you eat hot Cheetos right before this?” you mumble, grimacing at the spiciness on your tongue. Kate laughs, a full-bodied laugh that is your favorite sound in the world.

“I stress eat when I’m nervous.”

“It tastes disgusting.”

“Oh shut up,” Kate chuckles, kissing you again. And again. And again.

#kate bishop #katie bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #hailee steinfeld #hailee steinfeld x reader #12 days of ficmas #ficmas 2023 #my writing

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gotbreads · 5 months ago

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OC x Tfp Megatron (Adult Offspring)

-Said OC: Linked Here!

ABOUT:

Sire: Mornilious the Forge

Carrier: Megatron

Zeus

Height: 38ft

About: He doesn't understand emotions, causing him to be blunt and to the point in all conversations. If he hurts someone's feelings, he doesn't register that change. He doesn't register different facial expressions either.

What he lacks in emotions he gains in battle situations, causing him to have very quick thinking and very well maintained scanners with added range. Nothing gets by him without going unnoticed, his vision and audial range is also heightened.

-Downside, he easily gets overwhelmed causing him to get angry.

---Later on, Zeus learns cybertronian sign language when he needs to cut all audio feed.

For such easily engaged anger issues, he is going to therapy to regain the abilities to recognize emotions and facial expressions. And to learn ways to help his heightened senses, and ease the anger.

-Does not give a shit unless it concerns his brother and creators.

Hades

Height: 38ft

About: He is extremely charismatic and expressive, no one will ever not be happy to see him. Hades loves to joke around, flirt, bug his brother, etc.

Bots knowing that his carrier is Megatron, they'd think he would have a scratchy voice. But it's the complete opposite, his voice is buttery smooth a little deep and gravelly. Nothing like his carrier.

For his charismatic nature, he is an expert in battle, but he's a little too much of a "Let's go, plan later." He always runs head first into a problem before analyzing it, causing him to gain new scars or reopen old ones.

He will stand up for his brother, he will beat the shit out of someone if they make fun of anyone who is close to him.

-He is a dumbass

Post war Context below cut!

Megatron stayed on Cybertron within the newly established landscape, old forests finally showing their true beauty as he hid himself. Many starships entered the atmosphere, the loud and roaring sound making him feel guilty of what he put everyone through. Until, one massive starship enters the atmosphere. At first it caught him off guard, the color scheme, the lights, it was so unfamiliar.

The ship landed not far away from the forest he hid in, it was surely massive.

Parallel to the ship, Megatron saw so many be greeted by Optimus and his team. Sparklings, veterans, carriers, sires, you name it- they were all there. But one caught his optic, the tall mech with flames coming from his helm. When it dawned on who he was looking at, said mech looked right at him. The sudden movement made his entire frame freeze in place, was he seen?

Then the mech looked away, greeting Optimus and his team.

Megatron took that as the cue to leave.

-- A few stellar cycles go by leading Megatron to question who that mech was. He never forgot a face, so why couldn't he think of where he saw this mech before?

A twig snaps behind him.

His body went into the defensive, but who he saw amazed him.

The mech with flames had his servos up at the level of his helm, showing he didn't come here to fight. Once Megatron got a better look at the mech he instantly knew who it was.

Mornilious the Forge, a Gladiator before him, known for his fire bending and his weaponry craftsmanship.

They talked, mostly due to Mornilious's own curiosity.

"What if I watched over your recovery? Making sure you get the therapy you need?"

Megatron was caught off guard by Mornilious's question, a mech known by simple myth sits beside him asking if he could help.

----- Many years later:

Megatron was set into a schedule with Mornilious, the therapy helping him stay sane, showing him how to deal with his feelings and guilt.

Noticing how much Mornilious has helped him without question, simply because he wanted too. Megatron slowly started to love the old Ex-Gladiator. Including Mornilious's horrible dad jokes and puns, him not knowing current cybertronian slang/quirks, how caring and careful he is.

Mornilious reminded him of Optimus in a way, the heroic leader of the people. But much softer than the prime, the smiles, the warm hugs, the how are you's in the early morning.

The warmth is overwhelmingly lovely.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp megatron #maccadam #oc #original character #megatron #digital art #art #oc x megatron #oc x canon #sparklings #ship child

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vocalcalibration · 4 months ago

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Silver and Blaze need their own game.

This is a topic I, like many Sonic fans, have given a lot of thought. Ignoring for a moment that these two haven't been playable in an official capacity outside of mobile games and spinoffs since... Black Knight? Does that count? The potential for story and gameplay with these two in particular is massive!

Story:

Frankly the plot pretty much writes itself. But let me explain what I specifically had in mind. The story would start with Silver in a burning city he does not recognize. Crisis city would serve as the opening level to the game. At the end of it Silver would be surrounded by monsters and attacked by Iblis before waking up in his home, this is a nightmare he's been having for weeks now. We would then transition to Silver's second level where he runs and glides through the floating islands of his current future. Why floating islands? Because floating islands are cool. We'd meet some new characters who, establish him a little bit of his own supporting cast, that is until a portal opens up and a shadowy individual pulls Silver throufh it.

From here we cut to Blaze who is rather unenthusiastically attending to paper work before someone comes in and informs her someone fell from a portal in the sky. This would star Blaze's first level with her navigating the jungles and beaches of her home island, before coming across an unconcious Silver whom she brings back to the castle. While he's resting the same shadowy figure emerges in the city unleashing monsters onto the townsfolk which Blaze then deals with for her second level in her capital city. After this Silver wakes up and the two exchange notes, with Silver agreeing to stick around so they can figure out what's happening.

From here we can spend time both experiencing visions of 06's future, chasing the new villain through both the sol dimension and Silver's future, and realizing the bizarre connection the two of them seem to share might be more than just weirdly good chemistry.

For some further explanation on my choices here.

I'm building the story as a followup to 06 for a number of reasons. For one it's the game that established them as a duo so if we have a game with the two of them naturally we're going to pull from it.

The series keeps alluding to their 06 partner ship as well. The above is a Colors DS screenshot in which they directly reference their time in 06. Sonic generations has the two both found in the crisis city portion of the hub and has them standing next to each other whenever they're in a cutscene. And they're often paired together in the IDW comic books.

Which is in no way a coincidence. Most of all however is that Blaze's place in 06 is, to this day, one of the biggest unexplained questions in Sonic's lore. Why was she in original timelines future? Why was she so okay with killing Sonic if she was Rush Blaze? If she's not Rush Blaze why does she have such nice clothes in the apocolypse? All questions we've never gotten a proper explanation for.

There's also the fact that I think finally tackling 06 head on would be healthy for the series future. The games impacts on the franchise are undeniable and can be felt to this day. For a while they seemed to live in permanent fear of the game, like it would come back and haunt if they said it's name too many times. Then we had the self flogging era where they "got in" on the joke. Nowadays they seem more comfortable referencing the game in a more matter of fact way, but finally ripping off the bandaid and just acknowledging the game outright in canon may be how they finally put it to rest. In service to that the ending could have Silver and Blaze choosing not to allow whatever past life they had define them, instead focusing on the now and what they can do for it.

Some character stuff you could do could be maybe Silver, due to the events of 06 is cut off from the time line. Everytime he visitis Sonic and co in the past his future is slightly different, the people he does and doesn't know change, but he remains the same. His memories aren't altered to match the current future and so he finds himself in a world of strangers, part of why he spends so much time in the past as Sonic and the others recognize him and he feels like he actually has a place there, but feels as though it's selfish on his part to stay and alter the timeline even more. Meanwhile Blaze could find herself worn out due to her responsibilities as princess, the expectations that weigh on her and finds herself longing for the excitement and adventure she felt with Sonic during their time together. Or something like that, I'm just spitballing here.

We could also reintroduce Marine as a proper "Tails" to Blaze's "Sonic", taking a page (heh) out of the IDW books by having her be much more mature and concientious of her duties in a squire-esk position.

Granted IDW might have over done it JUST little, at least with the tiny bit we see her, so maybe have her keep a bit of that energetic and cocky attitude from Rush Adventure, just toned down a little. You could show her more developed as mechanic, having pick up things from Tails and due to her own practice and training. Also make all her Australian slang incomprehensible to Silver because that would be funny.

Gameplay:

Right out the gate I want the game to be based on the open zone formula of Frontiers, it's the direction I want the series to stick going forward, no more pulling a Sonic Team and jumping ship to a radically different gameplay style for seemingly no reason again. With that said I think I'd like to see it refined a fair bit. Instead of several open zones we have two much larger open areas featuring multiple biomes through which you access the various levels. The Sol dimension would be the first open zone, with the main island and various smaller island surrounding it. Water vehicles from rush adventure could return and exploring would have a bit of a wind waker vibe, sailing from place to place. It wouldn't be as intrusive as Rush Adventure, instead of being their own segments it'd be real time vehicles you can get in and out of whenever and all the major islands would have fast travel points once discovered.

The other open zone would be the same structure, albeit with two main islands connected via bridges surrounded by smaller ones, except they'd, again, be floating in the air and you'd travel via air vehicles. I guess like Skywar Sword... huh.

Blaze would serve as a more traditional Sonic gameplay experience, high speed platforming and action. Specifically base her moveset on 06 Blaze, which featured a double jump, homing attack and grounded fire tornado attack, while also adding in her fire spindash and hover from Rush. Her combat would resemble Sonic's frontiers combat in the open zone, of course with a focus on her pyro-kinesis for her abilities. To put in fighting game terms, she's be a true rush down character with some light projectile stuff.

Silver would be slower. Now let me be clear, Not slow, slower. He'd still move at a good clip but would be outpaced by Blaze easily. In place of that his levels would be more platforming and puzzle focussed. Silver wouldn't ball jump or homing attack, like 06, but he'd have hover, a high jump and a psycho slash move which kept his momentum so as to not slow him down. Also while Blaze would have something closer to the Unleashed-Forces boost, which damages enemies, Silver would have the non-damaging frontiers boost. His combat would be much more projectile heavy, with psycho-kinetic blasts and slashes and aoe attacks. Maybe also some kind of psycho mine that when activated holds ebemies in place? I think it'd be cool. Again in fighting game terms, a zoner/trap character with some light melee and grappling options.

In the open zones you could switch between the two freely, including mid-combo, to tackle the various combat and platforming challenges and puzzles. For levels there are a few options. You could have dedicated levels for both character, the advantage there being that you can taylor each level to their specific abilities. Maybe even take something from Forces Sonic/Avatar stages with select levels using both of them. Alternatively you could have every level accessible by both but with different paths they can take based on abilities. Or you could have it so you can swap freely mid level, kinda' like Sonic Heroes. They all have benefits and drawbacks and I can't really say which one is definitively the best choice.

But now we reach the end of my essay... thing. Thanks for reading. Also all art were taken from official sources including Sega and IDW. Ttfn. Tuh tuh for now.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #amy rose #sonic franchise #sonic frontiers #sega #idw sonic #idw publishing #silver the hedgehog #blaze the cat #silvaze #future #alternate universe #dimension #thought experiment #video games #theorizing

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thewertsearch · 1 year ago

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Ask Comp 19/10

That's true - we don't know for sure that Trollian can fully emulate Sburb's surveillance capabilities.

If the trolls were sufficiently motivated, though, they wouldn't actually need to. Sollux could probably hack one of the kids' computers, to gain access to their Sburb viewport - although if he did, he wouldn't need a camera to snoop on their messages.

Is there a paranoia Aspect? I think I've finally found my calling.

anonymous asked: heya! ive just finished re-reading your ENtIRE liveblog and i to send asks about some stuff but i waited to finish so im sendind everything at once! (im gonna send stuff in a bunch of small asks so cat can stop just one instead of the whole thing in case of accidental spoilers) (aslo hi cat!) (also its ninnoy, havent sent an ask in a while but i changed my pfp to something slightly more spoilery so im in anon now) [...] the jade pen pal thing, do you have any new theories on who it could be?

None! I'm sure that it's someone derived from Grandpa Harley, but everything else is a mystery.

I have no particular theories about who he is, how he knows Jade, where he got his hands on so many endgame weapons, or why he's got such an antiquated accent if he's watching movies from the 80s. I assume time travel is involved, but that doesn't really narrow anything down in a comic like this. He (she? they?) is a complete enigma, and I'll just have to wait to learn more.

ALsO WHEREs YOUR sONAs? we havent seen them in so long im afraid sahlle might have actueally died of meteor strike (joking of course) also have you realized that "sally" and "cat" are both one letter of from a valid kid name? you could lend her one of your "L"s

I've actually been workshopping some Quest stuff for Sahlee this week! I suppose I'd need to figure out her Title first, though, and for that, I'd need to get a more solid idea of her personality, and how her experiences on Alternia have shaped her.

in one of your last posts you seemed to imply that the multiverse exists inside the timeline, but ive always read it as the opposite, the timeline inside the universe that would explain why the trolls can pick any time from the humans universe to talk to them but cant have private conversations with their own futute/past selves, its not an inherent part of trollian, they are just outside the human timeline (the memos are still trollian being time fucky) dont know if that makes any difference but its a thought also i realize the tag may be unecessary due to my quirk, but its too late to stop now

(NOTE: quirk omitted for readability, but the substitutions are [t -> 7, s -> 2] - sort of a variant of Sollux's quirk. I actually don't think we've seen any quirks which add a 7, so the voice here is distinct from any trolls we've seen so far. I like it!)

Originally, my assumption was that each timeline contained a duplicate of the entire multiverse. Doomed timelines don't seem to let you communicate with other universes/dimensions, though, so they don't need to contain other sectors of reality. I'm currently of the opinion that doomed timelines only contain an instance of the dimension they were doomed in. The only timeline which contains the entire multiverse is the Alpha.

This mechanic keeps doomed timelines simple, but in-universe, I don't know why it exists. Much like the Alpha itself, it's a mystery I can only speculate about.

has the shipping chart been updated since the last time we saw it? also you (at some point) said that equius<>feferi was a controversial ship so i had to go back to check the notes and i was the only person i found talkig about it so i guess im the whole controversy? if thats the case i would like to thank you for recognizing me as the equius<>feferi number 1 hater (all jokes of course)

I got a few skeptical asks about Equius<>Feferi, but you're the only one who discussed it on the post itself. I guess by some measures, you are the most dedicated hater, because your hate was posted publicly! 🤣

I could make one or two changes, but I don't want to post a new chart until the kids meet the trolls in person, hopefully at the end of the Act!

The Scratch, naturally - but I'm also looking forward to seeing exactly how WV was Exiled. He's currently on Skaia, and Jack has lost interest in him, so who's actually sending him through the portal?

Tavros is barely a presence on the Land he's ostensibly the hero of, and all of his actions are being dictated by a third party who can physically control his body. This third party does not acknowledge or respect Tavros's own desires, effectively forcing him to play the game in a way that she personally approves of.

She claims it will make him stronger.

@bladekindeyewear submitted: That was a long, thorough, and fantastic response! It's fascinating seeing your opinion on these things-- and I'm glad to see that considering the questions we've given you seems to have made you more paranoid. But I'm just not entirely sure you're paranoid ENOUGH. Not yet. Much like how you just found that "BREEZE" quote in your Breath research, back at around the time you've now reached in the comic, we had dozens of theory-miners combing back through everything that had been said and shown in Homestuck, over and over again, searching for anything we might have missed that might have been of some importance. [...] So, uh….. how do I put this… Would you prefer to strictly handle that sort of thing all by yourself, as you've said? Which I'd agree is still the best way that you should keep to, for the most part? Or would you mind if I gave you just a CRUMB of an example, only one? A tiny bit of text that we in the theory community only found at about the time you've reached in the comic, even though it was more than a thousand pages earlier?

Shit, this is such a dilemma. I'm honestly really torn.

See, I'd probably find old fandom theories absolutely fascinating to analyze. I'd love to know how closely my ideas align with those of the early Homestuck fandom, and whether I'm saying anything really out-of-pocket. My analysis of Sollux's ~ATH script was apparently an original theory, and it's honestly one my proudest moments.

But that's also sort of the problem, isn't it? If I dive too deeply into other people's fan theories, they'll start to affect my own - and if I'm introduced to a really compelling fan theory, it could end up replacing any homegrown theories that I could have developed in lieu of it. If someone had send me a well-reasoned ~ATH theory before I did my own analysis, I'd probably have been less motivated to make the analysis in the first place. After all, many of my questions would already have been answered by a clever theory I just read.

People are free to send me their own off-the-cuff opinions on what's happening in the comic, or their own takes on any meta I write. I get a lot of asks like that, and they're some of my favorites. There are also asks which spoil a little too much, but I'm still interested in their takes, so Cat's saving them for later. We don't really delete asks - we just delay the ones that aren't necessarily appropriate for a blind liveblog.

Obviously there's a fine line here, and whether a given ask is a theory or just an opinion is a little subjective - but in my opinion, the influence that asks and submissions have had on my analysis has been relatively minor. I don't think many of my theories have been spawned from an ask, or killed by one.

This is a little different, though, because it's part of a theory that was crowdsourced over several years. It doesn't sound like something that could be inferred by an individual, so I'm not sure if it's something an individual liveblogger should necessarily know about? If I start crowdsourcing my analysis, my theories will be less Wertsearch and more fandom consensus, and I don't think I'd enjoy that as much.

I really want to know, but I think I'll enjoy the liveblog more if I don't. When I finish the comic, I'll gleefully analyze any fan theory that anyone sends me - but for now, I'll just have to wonder, and come up with theories of my own!

Yeah, we've really been getting into it with Vriska lately. I've enjoyed trying to explain and predict her actions, and I'm glad people don't think I'm going overboard when trying to analyze her.

When a character does something interesting, I don't like to move on until I have a theory about why they did it. Sure, it may be refuted later, but it needs to be something that's consistent with what I currently know about their personality.

Vriska takes a particularly long time to puzzle out in this way. Her motivations are derived from a complex web (lol) of factors, including Scratch, Spidermom, her rivalry with Terezi, her horrendous relationship with Tavros, classism, teenage hormones, quadrant politics, highblood society and the Alternian culture of violence. They all inform her decisions, and any combination of them could have been the catalyst for the latest Vriska Incident.

I want characters to make sense to me, and Vriska is written to deliberately challenge my attempt to achieve this. Her meta is fun to write, so I'm glad it's also fun to read!

#full liveblog #asks #act 5.2

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darkhymns-fic · 8 months ago

Text

Poor Reception

Husk is forcefully brought to the radio tower, where he finds Alastor injured after the battle. He's weak. He's vulnerable.

What better opportunity to finally be free of the Radio Demon's chains than right now?

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk Rating: M Word Count: 4531 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I wrote more for this ship? I'm unwell for them. Once again, a note that this fic contains depictions of unhealthy relationship dynamics, past abuse, and violence. More tags are on the AO3 mirror.

The thing was, Husk was still bleeding when Alastor called for him. So, he didn’t appreciate the urgency.

The cuts over his arms and his right cheek stung, not to mention both of his wings were aching badly. One of the angels from the battle had grabbed at them, seeming particularly pissed off that he even had wings in the first place. (Not like it was his choice to begin with). It had at least been satisfying blowing its face with his newly upgraded dice, even if a few of his feathers had been ripped up, and his clothes were now splattered with the gold that flowed from the angel’s severed neck.

Well, not like anyone got out of a fight that was worth fighting for unscathed.

The hotel still needed to be rebuilt, for it was nothing but rubble. Support beams stuck out of the ground, and all those fancy chandeliers from the lobby had shattered all over, glass shards mixing with stone and wood. Husk was careful, even if his wings were basically out of commission now. He picked up broken furniture and the remains of his bar, watching as the alcohol had already seeped into the dirt. In a more desperate time in his life, he might have tried saving some of his booze as best he could, but it was easy to shrug it off now, to shoot a smirk at Angel Dust when the guy made dirty jokes as they worked, and to even give Charlie a reassuring smile as she helped him out. He dared to think it was all going to be okay.

Husk didn’t notice the shadows gathering when he turned a corner, too focused on the cleanup.

He didn’t notice how they formed under his feet like a dark whirlpool, and only the sense of dread that ran along his fur even gave him a hint to what was happening. Too slow, for the long tendrils he recognized had reached up, curling around his legs, grabbing at his wrists—all to pull him straight down.

The last thing he saw was Niffty, the little demon still carrying around her golden bloodied knife like a trophy, stabbing at skittering bugs she kept unearthing. She turned, hearing him choke, her giant eye reflecting the blackness that was their boss’ shadow magic.

“Niff!” was all he could get out. A hand, taloned and strong, clamped over his mouth, muffling his screams.

Niffty simply blinked. He saw his own terrified face in her gaze. Then, she smiled, jumping up and down maniacally. “Ooo, I want a turn too! Let me go next!”

Suddenly, he was struck blind.

These were one of those times he thought he was going through a second death. The complete darkness. The silence. The immovability. His arms and legs stayed locked in place, but he could feel the pain of his wounds that hadn’t fully healed, all while a hand kept his mouth shut like an iron muzzle. It was hard to tell if his eyes were open or closed, for there was only the dark, pulling him through hidden places that he might never return from.

It was endless. It was impossible to deal with. Husk had no other choice to even do anything else. The shadows wouldn’t let him go, wouldn’t even let him scream, no matter how much his teeth felt like they were going to crack from the strain.

This was it. He was truly dead, and it was far worse than anything else Hell had to offer.

And then he was spat out of the ground like garbage.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Husk coughed and gagged, grabbing at his side as fresh wounds reopened. Somehow, swearing in the name of the Lord still hadn’t set him on fire, like he’d expected to the first time he did so. He was too nauseous to keep in mind the list of acceptable curses, already vomiting up some of the pancakes the king of Hell had made them all just a bit earlier. All his earlier cuts went back to stinging like a bitch again.

To the right, he saw a cackling shadow on the far wall, its antlers taking crooked shapes like the branches of a rotten tree.

“You gotta be joking me… I told you I hate going through that shit!” Husk wiped his chin with the back of his hand, grumbling all the while. It took all his effort just to slowly pull himself to a sitting position, balancing his shivering body on his knees. “If you want me somewhere, just use the phone! Or send a goddamn telegram or whatever. Not this nightmare express!”

The shadow of Alastor continued to laugh silently, its smile stretching and making gaps in its mockery of a face. It even gave Husk a little wave before going back to laughter, bending its back in painful contortions.

Husk grimaced, hating what he now knew: that Alastor was indeed still alive. Fantastic. Couldn’t have even stayed in bliss for one day that maybe, somehow, he might finally be free. He was such an idiot.

His eyes were still getting adjusted after being engulfed in shadow for who knows how long. It was only then he realized the lighting wasn’t normal—at least as normal as it got in Hell. Blaring red light coated the entire floor and walls, but it flickered, occasionally making his boss’ shadow disappear and reappear like a magic act. Husk directed his gaze to the ceiling, finding several broken fluorescent lights, the ‘On Air’ neon sign having two letters working at most.

Husk felt the cold metal beneath his feet, finally noticed the shattered windows around him, and the cramped space. Yeah, he’d been here plenty of times. The same radio tower his boss would materialize wherever he fucking felt like it. But along with the hotel, it had also collapsed. The tilt of the floor was already giving him a headache.

The shadow moved suddenly, stretching bigger and bigger until it reached the length of the floor. Husk scrambled away from letting it touch him a second time. “Ugh, what do you want now?”

He kept his eyes on the shadow, but it didn’t reach for him this time. Instead, it slid towards the front of the broken radio tower, where the console had been broken in half, the dials and buttons having fallen off.

He only then noticed Alastor’s body leaning against its side, legs stretched out on the floor. His own shadow finally melded with him.

Husk froze. He didn’t know what to do or think. He worried if taking another breath would break the image right in front of him.

There was blood pooling around Alastor, staining the floor.

The lights kept flickering, reflecting off steel-toed shoes, the frayed jacket that still hung around the Radio Demon’s shoulders, and the broken mic cane where each half was clutched in a separate hand.

Husk waited a long beat before he finally decided to try standing.

Easier said than done. His body still hurt from where the shadows had grabbed him, including his jaw and teeth. But he tried to get himself to one foot, watching the blood from his cuts drip down his arm, reaching his knuckles.

Eventually, he stood. His own shadow from the red light stretched out to Alastor, falling over both his boss’ face and torso. Even in the dimness, he could see the long gash across the chest, ruining the button-down he always wore. But that same chest also rose and fell, slightly. The red light around them pulsed like a struggling heartbeat.

“You’re a complete fucking mess,” Husk muttered.

The room was quiet except for the constant electric buzzing, but Alastor didn’t respond. Maybe he was truly knocked out, otherwise Husk would have felt his neck tighten, brought back down to the floor as another threat to his soul loomed over him. But there was nothing, just Alastor sitting there, broken.

And healing, Husk realized. He was healing very, very slowly.

It was a mistake, but he took a few steps forward, avoiding contact with the broken glass. No other nightmare shadows played around in his vision, nothing but his own, which slowly engulfed Alastor until all that red darkened. He saw the demon’s eyes were closed, his head lowered to his chest, still clutching so tightly to the broken mic.

What was he even doing right now? Why did his throat dry up and his hands shake so? Especially if his boss was barely breathing—

Alastor raised his head. The sound of sparks was faint, but there. Eyes lit up in their familiar electric crimson.

“Husker…” He said the name as if dragging teeth across flesh. “Such a… s-surprise to see you…!”

A stutter. Husk wasn’t sure if he had ever heard Alastor stumble over a word in his life (or death). What radio host worth his salt would make such a rookie mistake as to stutter?

Alastor’s grin was tight, resembling more of a grimace. Maybe he realized, too.

Husk let his eyes examine Alastor again, from the fresh blood still blooming over his chest, to the jagged ends of his broken mic. The head of it crackled, picking up only noise and static. No hint of distant voices or music—no hint of those usual screams Husk would sometimes catch through the walls as he slept.

“Adam got ya, huh?” He took another step, even if the feeling of terror didn’t exactly pass. But he never claimed to be a smart man.

There was a sharp glint in Alastor’s eyes—a furious spark of electricity. It passed instantly, Alastor keeping up his smile despite his radio act going off the rails.

“Now, don’t… don’t be spreading some false rumors. I just… appear to be having some technical difficulties… Please stand by, I need… Please stand by…”

The tone in Alastor’s voice was unnerving. His boss was usually on top of his game, but this was something else. In all their time together in Hell, he had never seen his boss so beaten in both body and pride.

Husk clenched his hands, claws furling and unfurling rhythmically. “So, did you bring me here to help you out? Keep you company?” He held out his hands in abject confusion, because it wasn’t like he was good at either of those things. “What’s the deal?”

He expected some inane nonsense from Alastor, even if the situation wasn’t the usual. But the other was still holding tight to the broken mic, still smiling as if it was the last thing he could do to keep up the routine.

But there was a flicker along his expression, an interruption over the airwaves. “Bring you… Is that right?” He shook his head minimally, still laying most of his weight on the radio console.

Husk felt his fur rise on their hackles. “Is this another stupid fucking bit of yours? I didn’t come looking for you. You’re the one who summoned me here with your shadow shit just now!”

Alastor chuckled, but there was a curious twitch in his right eye. It made the static rise higher, sputtering in pieces. “Husker, you and…your poor attempt at humor. I didn’t…ask for you…”

His head started to throb. He could still barely forget the claustrophobic feeling of being dragged into darkness, hardly able to breathe or even know if he fully existed anymore. It hadn’t been the first time Alastor had done it to him either, but now after he did it again, he didn’t even remember?

Was tormenting Husk just fucking instinct to him?

Alastor was now muttering, which was a whole new realm of lunacy Husk didn’t want to understand. “Just experiencing—” Loud static that could wriggle its way into eardrums. “Experiencing technical difficulties. Please—” More static, like an ocean wave that was steadily growing bigger with each passing moment. “Please stand by…”

The mic kept glowing then dimming, bright and then dark. It reminded Husk of some sort of lighthouse, one that only illuminated red, making it that much harder to see and find the rocks just below.

He didn’t see his boss’ strange shadows anymore. But it must have slept within him, using the very last of his strength to keep Alastor intact. But then why was he even brought here? Just to sit and watch?

Alastor was still deeply wounded. The guy could barely even look at him, his words coated in awful static, as if the dial was stuck on an AM station. Husk lowered his ears, hating every second.

He didn’t have to keep listening to this.

Husk reached into his pants pocket, wondering if he’d be lucky enough. He felt the familiar edge of the card and pulled it out. One from his old deck that he had been allowed to keep, despite it all. Except now, it was coated in the same silver lining that the angel’s weapons had, courtesy of Carmilla Carmine.

He’d already used the rest on the angels, their numbers so great, it ate through his entire deck except for one. The constant blinking of the red light revealed it to be the Joker card. He didn’t want to think too hard on that meaning.

But, he could kill Alastor right now. It would be so easy.

He took another few steps, quietly, and he’d have to thank the stupid form his body took in Hell for that. His feet barely made a sound over the metal floors, and soon he was standing over Alastor, the shadow of his wings covering both his boss and the radio console.

Alastor’s breathing was hollow, blending with the static. The shaking in Husk’s limbs finally seemed to subside, seeing none of the magic coming to Alastor’s fingertips. No sight of roving shadows or poisonous green. Even the antlers on his head remained small and unassuming.

Just aim the card at his neck. Then it’ll be over.

Husk didn’t understand his own hesitance, barely giving any second thoughts to the angels from before. He’d ruptured several torsos and blown up some heads. Alastor was just another body to get through—and the wound he suffered from Adam showed he wasn’t invincible. He could die, just as much as the rest of them.

He had to hurry it up.

But maybe Husk was breathing too loudly, or his feet did make a sound, probably finding a weakness in the metal to make it creak. Because Alastor picked up his head again, aiming his bright red eyes at Husk. The static increased, loudly. Desperately.

The light roved from Husk’s face to his hand. Blood was leaking through his boss’ smile, staining his shirt even more.

“Well, now…” he started to say, the dial turning to find a stable wave. But the static never left. “Just… what… are you even trying to do?”

Husk said nothing. He stared down at the man who had spoken of ripping apart his soul like it was nothing at all. He gripped the card more firmly between his fingers.

“You… do you think…” And then Alastor lost a bit more composure, a cough leaving his damaged throat. The static jumped, the electric shock of it making Husk wince. “That you have the actual gall to—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” He’d had enough. Husk took another step, feeling the sharpness of the card against his skin. “I’m cutting out of our deal, whether you like it or not.”

He didn’t know what reaction to expect from Alastor—the man had several screws loose, ready to turn from charming to outright psychotic at the drop of a hat—but even Husk was surprised at the sudden laughter that tumbled from his mouth. It wasn’t any of his favorite audience tracks he loved playing, such as after he’d taken care of another Overlord, the screams and applause overlayed. It was his own, and it would then garble and crescendo in unsettling waves, even as his eyes fixated on the card Husk was holding.

“Such big words…” Another cough, the blood now dripping down his chin. “From a drunken has-been who had to come to me—”

Husk had always been a gambling man, and much of his gambles had always bit him right in the ass, his current situation very much a point to that. But after everything he’d gone through, after all the bloodshed and the humiliation of that leash around his neck all hours of the day, Husk took the gamble and stepped past the invisible line that was Alastor’s boundaries.

Not like the man had ever respected his own.

His free hand grabbed at a thin neck, his knee placed against the still bleeding chest, knowing it would hurt Alastor. Hoping it would. And from the flickering of Alastor’s eyes, along with the constant static, it really must have stung. Badly.

No shadows reached out to grab him. No chains. Alastor was too weak. Whatever shadow magic he’d used from before had been the very last of his strength.

“I’m not that drunk to not be able to saw your neck off with this.” Husk held the card high, its edge serrated, made to cut through flesh easily—one of the few things he was able to retain since his own Overlord days. “I can make it a quick, clean cut or slow enough for you to feel every muscle snapping. Your fucking choice.”

But even with the threat of a second death once again, still healing from his other wounds, Alastor kept his grin. It widened, the blood flowing more freely.

Something about it was more deranged than before.

Husk tried not to let the age-old terror seep in, the kind of terror he had never been able to drink away. Alastor couldn’t do anything to him. It was different now. He had the upper hand. His fingers pressed against the other’s neck, feeling the man swallow.

“Well?!” Husk barked, leaning forward, putting all his weight on his knee, hoping it would crack more bones, burst more vessels. “What do you have to say?!”

Alastor opened his mouth. The blood kept flowing from an abyss that was endless. An abyss that swallowed all sound and was constricting.

“Husker…” Alastor lingered over the little pet name he had given Husk all those years ago. He held it between his teeth, slid his tongue over the letters like they were irresistible. “Are you having stage fright?”

The claws, still clutching that throat, twitched. The bastard. Even on the verge of death, he still had to find a way to mess with him.

Maybe it was to prove it to himself, but he let his claws pierce through the flesh just so, watching as Alastor’s eyes fizzled and sputtered. Anything to make it hurt more. “You losing your memory? I was more on the stage then you ever were.”

Alastor’s shoulders hunched up. He leaned forward, pressing into that knee despite what must have been unbearable pain. But no, this guy had always liked pain, didn’t he?

“You always make excuses.” No shadows came out of him, but it didn’t stop Alastor’s face from transforming into an abomination, one barely seen in the dark. “Don’t keep your audience waiting…!”

The blood from Alastor’s mouth fell on Husk’s hand. Wet, hot, and burning. Husk froze. He stared back into the red, the light of it piercing right into his skull.

He didn’t understand what was happening. This should have been easy. With how often Alastor had demeaned him, had humiliated him, had broken his very bones for his slip-ups, torn up his wings for amusement, and would yank at his chain so hard he thought his own neck would snap from the strain—

Slicing the demon’s neck was a mercy out of everything.

Suddenly, all those awful memories came flowing back to him. He had learned to shut them away with drink, and gambling, and any other vices that fell into his lap. If he’d heard the screams from the tower through his walls, he’d just pull the blankets over his head. If Alastor gripped his chin during a conversation, to “Ensure you’re paying attention, my dear friend,” Husk would just roll with it if he felt a certain tension in those fingers. There were times he could push Alastor away, or shout back, but the demon was unpredictable, and the way the dice rolled lately had not been in his favor.

Except now. Except right fucking now. He didn’t have to remember the pain, or the threat of death hanging over his head, or the sick ways Alastor would invade his boundaries. He could tear this man beneath him apart with just his teeth and claws alone, before finally rupturing his heart with the power of angels bent on revenge. He could eat his flesh and feast on his intestines and see how Alastor liked to be on the other side for once—!

All the noise in his mind was so much, hypnotized by that red, by visions of blood and gore and viscera, that he didn’t notice the hands gripping his wrist. They had let go of the broken mic, pressed their talons into his fur.

Then there was the weight on his neck, the links entwined around Alastor’s fingers. They clinked together delicately, almost gently.

It was enough to terrify Husk out of his mind.

And the way the chain pulled him in, as it always did, to fall into that abyss where the smell of rotten meat came from. The way a hand reached up to grip at his cheek, drawing him further down into that same darkness where he can’t scream—

Stop. STOP.

Husk leaped back, his wings outstretched to lift him away from Alastor. Somehow, miraculously, the chain dissipated, like a fog. He stumbled once he landed, gripping onto the card that was still clean of any blood. His wings instinctively furled around his body, trying to forget the hands on him and how their touch skittered across his fur, leaving him confused and horrified at himself.

From such violent thoughts of bloodshed that only Alastor would revel at, to wanting to sink against him.

The red lights of the radio tower continued to flicker. There was a monotonous drone, one that wriggled inside Husk’s skull like a maggot, searching for his soul. He just barely lifted his eyes to see it come from that broken mic, the one that Alastor had gone back to holding tight.

Or had he ever let go? Had Husk just been hallucinating the entire thing? Yet another look at Alastor, at the eyes that bore right through his, made him want to shudder. His wings furled tighter around himself, but he already felt so exposed, right down to his very ribs.

“What did you do to me?” he finally asked, barely able to go past a whisper.

In the background, he thought he could hear soft music play—a piano ballad, one that was played in those old swing clubs from a time he could barely remember, along with a woman’s singing voice. It would then drown in that static, overwhelmed, but it was getting stronger. Alastor was slowly coming to himself.

And the demon laughed again, the filter over his voice lessening just enough for Husk to not mistake his words. “Nothing that you didn’t want for yourself.”

Husk remembered the bloodlust, the texture of Alastor’s skin against his hands, and he wanted to vomit once more.

He didn’t, swallowing any bile as he scrambled back, not caring when he touched broken glass. “Shut up! I can’t even do this now?! I…” His throat was tight. “You’ve ruined everything for me.”

Alastor let his tongue seep out, like a black leech that had found its way to land, before retreating to the dark. “No, I only came to pick up the pieces.” The chuckle reverberated out of him, deep. “Such a naughty liar you are.”

Husk’s claws pierced the floor. The sensation was awful. Any euphoria he felt before from fighting off the angels, from the smiles of his friends, from the very thought that just for once he would finally find freedom—gone.

Alastor wasn’t near him, but he remembered the feeling of his hand on his face, the stroke of fingers through the fur, (the vice-like grip over his mouth to keep him screaming) all as the leash kept pulling him and his will along with it.

“Oh, sweet Husker. You can’t kill what you love.” Said so easily, with such glee that it made Husk’s vision spin. Even so, Alastor’s face stayed imprinted in his memory forever. “But don’t worry. This’ll be our little secret, and don’t we already share so many by now?”

Husk glared at the Radio Demon, but he did so like a cornered animal, hiding behind a worthless shield, remembering the taste of blood on his tongue.

“No one has to know a thing,” Alastor continued. The static wrapped around them both, dripping with mercury. “Let’s make all our new friends so proud.”

Another deal, verbally made within the shattered tower. No one else needed to know of Alastor’s temporary weakness here, his close brush with second death, the loss of control he had, if only for a moment. And no one needed to know Husk’s true nature.

Secrets that would bind them together, strangling, choking, until the very end.

Husk felt a sharp sting on his right palm. He looked at the card he kept holding, at how he cut himself across the heart pattern over his fur. The front of the card was stained.

He gritted his teeth, felt tears prick at his eyes. He quickly put the card away in his pocket.

“Just hurry and fix yourself up,” he muttered as he got to his feet. His wings still stayed around him, gripping onto them like a tattered coat. “Charlie’s probably waiting for you.”

He felt the tears run down his cheeks. Great, now he was crying. For fuck’s sake.

Husk tried turning away, not wanting Alastor to see again how he had this hold on him, how easily he could do that while still bleeding out the floor. But the music kept playing, occasionally skipping a note, to the point that it was almost pleasant.

Sometimes, if he pretended, he could forget the awful things when a nice song played every once in a while.

Husk risked a quick glance, and saw that Alastor was no longer looking at him. Instead, the eyes of the Radio Demon were directed to the floor, to the broken mic cane, where the song echoed out from its tinny speaker.

An intermission.

Husk didn’t want to stick around any longer.

He found the stairs that led down from the half-standing tower. His hand gripped his wings still, before finally going down, and down, and down.

But before he left, he thought he saw familiar, convulsing shadows on the side. Their outlines were tinged in green, their teeth jagged and sharp. One had Alastor’s face, which stared right at him with the utmost glee.

And it winked.

#hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

27 notes · View notes

cawcawbeech · 7 months ago

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SIX OF CROWS AND KISSING !!

(Welcome to this silly but intricate guide nobody asked for)

Just so everybody knows and is fully aware, I literally never kissed anybody in my whole damn life. I dont much care to try (for now) unless your name is Amita fucking Suman (jkjk, or not), but that doesnt mean I didnt do some very extensive research on the topic just so I can write what are hopefully non-generic scenes where all of my favorite characters make out till the following sunrise without a single other thought plaguing their empty little minds (exception being if the said thought is used to deepen 'the plot').

Before I say much else, I would like to note that THIS is just a very detailed bullet point list on kissing for all of my boys and girls separate of their partners assigned to them in canon or by the fandom. We will get to how it would actually go in different scenarios with different ships a bit later on if I decide it wont be a waste of my time. PS: No, not every kiss / kisser has to be extraordinary or unique or have whatever traits I ended up slapping on these characters here, Im just extra like that. And its not like anybody can stop me. Deal with it and simply enjoy (whatever this may be)!

→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→

JESPER LLEWELLYN FAHEY

Jesper has had his fair share of practice in this particular field, we all know it. That is no reason to say that he is a perfect kisser, there are many who have done way more, constantly brag about it, and yet still leave you disappointed. But, this is Jesper we are talking about. Kuwei has said that he is a great kisser too, I choose to trust him on that. That joke he made to cheer up Wylan at Olendaal, the one about kissing Nina / Matthias 'with tongue', it doesnt have to mean anything, but I like to think he is a tongue kind of guy. I also like to think that he is adaptable to any type of person though, he aims to please through-and-through. It saddens me to look deeper, to think about how that may be a result of his low self-esteem, but in moments like these, it makes him happy most of the time, and it is all I could hope for when it comes to my boy.

The first relationship he had been a witness to, the one his mother and father shared before her death, had been a very healthy one. I wouldnt call Colm the perfect father, certainly not after his wife was gone, albeit he is significantly better compared to the hands the rest of our favourite characters have been dealth with, but he was good to Aditi. Most kids, including myself, were the type to be grossed out by PDA, especially when its between their parents, and while thats not in any way a bad thing, we can clearly see that Jesper was not of that type.

Despite his many faults, he was raised fairly well. He knows how to make a comfortable environment, to recognize a clear invitation, what to ask and what not to ask, what is acceptable and what he shouldnt do without a more in-depth discussion. He knows how to create and opportunity where one could deny him if they so wished. I wouldnt say its some overly high bar to jump over, if anything it is the most basic standard any and all should hold themselves to, but I call Jesper 'the consent king' for a reason.

Its said in the book that his mind empties when he kisses the right person, that thinking of methaphors clearly means something is wrong, but hes still pretty descriptive in his POVs if you ask me. Its also very clear that he likes to kiss deep, slow, and involve other sensations throughout which is the part where Id like to include some of my very own hcs (slight temperature / texture play where he drags his rings over skin, hair pulling is a given but I can see him also liking to touch peoples ears a lot, talking in between and whispering during the few subtly initiated pauses, etc). Jespers favourite type of kiss would probably be those he iniciates as soon as he wakes up in the morning. It rains often in Ketterdam, its normal, so he would also probably be one of the rare creatures among the regular Kerch citizens who finds kissing in the rain romantic.

KAZ BREKKER (RIETVELD)

Kaz will have to go through some major healing first, no doubts about that, but Id say he would probably be one of the elite members of the 'Im keeping my eyes open for this' club (until he isnt). I doubt he does much analyzing during, mentally he is on another planet thats probably many lightyears away as he tends to do with a lot of other even remotely intimate things, but theres lots of squinting, eyelid fluttering... Kaz is basically a personafication of that cliche 'when did I close them' quote. In my own experience, I can barely hold eye contact when talking, but I dont really see this as a bad trait. I also dont see it as a trauma response either like some would assume it would be for Kaz, I think its just a him thing. If this man didnt want to kiss somebody, you would not be kissing him, end of.

He likes to focus on teeth, whether by unconsciously (or consciously) biting his partner, having your teeth bump into each other, or licking his own after youre done. Theres lots of shuddering, youll feel him there more than youll hear him, but he is not completely silent either. I dont think he would like beeing cornered, picked up or lifted in any way except on very rare occasions. Just like the pulse thing where he feels for it on the wrist (or neck once he is more comfortable), feeling his weight including the pain of his leg serves to ground him. Perhaps he might also like feeling of you breathing through your nose on his face for the same reasons? He doesnt like leaving things unfinished, even if its just a peck, he will make sure it feels 'complete', I dont know how else to put it. If anybody could overuse the words "Again?", it would be Kaz motherfucking Brekker.

Im in no way saying he will be good, in fact, theres lots of traits here that many wouldnt like, but he tries when he wants to (and again, you would not be kissing this man if he didnt want it), he will learn and he will remember the smallest of details (so that he can ponder over them later). The only thing we hear about Kazs appearance related to his mouth is that there is a scar running through his upper lip. I never got it when people talked about kisses having a taste, but Kaz seems to often call people light-weight, so clearly, he handles his alcohol well, perhaps having developed such a habit to settle down his own supposedly non-existent nerves. It might not be the main reason, we heard about him being on the receiving end of many fights that in certain circumstances and with the ways they are handled lead to similar results, but liquor does leave one dehydrated and with chapped lips.

WYLAN VAN ECK (HENDRIKS)

Unless he is particulary fired up, Wylan likes to start slow and chaste no matter if you are the first, the thousanth person he has kissed or just a person he has kissed a thousand times. Unlike Kaz, he has some experience, sheltered kids know how to have fun in secret (and Im the last person who would ignore that 'lie' about him being kicked out for bedding the tutor, theres some truth to everything), but he is also nowhere near the level of Jesper or Nina or Matthias. We know he likes when his partner feels calm and like they are actually in their body before he goes in for the kill, we saw it with Jesper, but we also see that he isnt the type who needs to ask every time and will just do it when 'the time feels right'. Look out, he just might squeeze into your shirt while youre wearing it and do a makeshift 'surprise attack' from there if he is determined enough for it.

From that, we could say he might have some other habits, including but not limited to the familiar one of guiding his partner through breathing patterns. Maybe sometimes he likes to hold onto your forearms more tightly than necessary (not forcefully though), have your knees touch and bump into one another, straighten his own / your items of clothing, compare hand sizes while making weirdly-intense eye contact, use his thumb to subtly rub at a random tensed muscle, touch foreheads if he is tall enough or rub his face along the side of your neck, anything that would focus your attention to him and the moment... Ironically, as a follow up to the last point and as the kiss drags on, he forgets that he is an actual person who has a weight to them and has to lean back against something with the help of his partner before he falls down and cracks his goddamn skull open.

He likes to leave an effect on whoever he is kissing, but he also likes to 'clean up after himself' as much as possible after its done, which once again serves to bring both of you back down. So yeah, he would probably do something like twirling a stay peace of hair around his finger before neatly tucking it back in place, running that same finger across a brow, down the nose or along the jawline, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, hips or elbows, swaying a bit to slowly return the atmosphere back to relaxed as he secretely links your pinky fingers together. Lips would be his main focus, and he especially likes the soothing effect it has when he is sleepy, but he could also grow to like eyelid, nose, tummy or thigh kisses when it comes to placement.

INEJ GHAFA

Inej has had many men kiss her throughout her life, and unfortunately, theres no need to debate whether she truly enjoyed any of them. Oh how I would love to say that every shitty person is also shit at every other skill they try to master, however, that doesnt have to be the case. The fact that she was a brothel girl doesnt have to mean all of her kisses were bad (to specify, that refers to the technique). That being said, I think she would appreciate the message more than the way its done. It also might result in her not exactly caring about the placement of a kiss, palm, knuckles, hair, cheek, neck, lips, any of them would be equally as intimate to her, platonic or otherwise. Its somewhat similar to what Wylan also likes, but very different too once you look further.

As is with Kaz, you would not be kissing the Inej we know now unless she didnt want you to. I probably should have said this earlier, no, I dont mean that any of the other Crows would enjoy a kiss that was not what they wanted, they wouldnt ignore the signs and will fight the person off if needed, but I hope you understand why Im emphasizing it for these two in particular. I think her kisses would be short, but sweet, a petite little package that can deliver a punch under a right set of conditions, just like she can, the same going for her ship. Physically, we know her lips have an upturn to their shape. As is true with alcohol, salt water has the same drying effect that is only made worse by licking.

One other feature that might make Inejs kisses unique is a possibility of her aquiring more jewellery during her travels. I always imagined that the Suli find piercings to be very meaningful. Perhaps she had some since a very young age, perhaps they were taken from her too during her time at the Menagerie, maybe the holes closed naturally over the long months, maybe she got more whilst working for Kaz, and although it was not put there for such a reason, a lip ring (just as an example) has quite a pleasing effect for either side.

She holds a special appreciation for people who remember their first kiss, or at least remember their first kiss with her, a courtesy she will offer in return as well. It takes special kind of brave to get close (she knows better than most) and never lets the feat of overcoming fear go unappreciated. For some reason, I can see her counting the seconds, not for any reason at all. I wouldnt say its something particulary good nor bad, but Inej doesnt give me the 'let me kiss your words away' signals no matter the situation. The phrases that would fit more would be "We will get through this", "Stay strong, for you", "Lets face it together" or "We shall see each other once more". She seems like the type to keep her affairs secret, but at the end of the day, I also dont think she would mind PDA all that much.

KUWEI YUL-BO

I know the fandom likes to joke that Kuwei is the bad kisser between the two, seeing as to how Jesper was left 'disappointed' even before knowing the truth behind who he was actually kissing... But I dont think that had to do much with the kiss itself. We were told that Jesper liked Kuweis body plenty enough, but even if it were really Wylan (both in shape and spirit), Jesper wasnt in the right space, and Kuweis silence and mannerisms didnt do much to help.

Now, this is a personal headcanon, but one of the habits I think he might pick up in the Little Palace would be scratching his nose or covering his mouth before he goes in for a kiss. Or well, I like to imagine that being his tell among all the snarky comebacks, vicious flirting and sly glances. And seeing as to how playful he is with his powers and how much he grows to use them for mischief and otherwise in KOS, I like to think that his face is always warm to the touch as Kuwei himself is constantly touching it. Random instert, this man unironically likes lemons and you will without a doubt taste quite an assortment of teas while with him.

Some people care about the emotional setting, some like keeping it casual, and some like having that perfect mix of both. Kuwei might acknowledge that in different ways and act accordingly, but I also think he might care more about the physical setting and connect good actions with places rather than specific people or mutual feelings. This man is a certified tease, unless you pull him towards you which is exactly what he wants, he is 100%, absolutely ready to keep a partner on the edge of their seat, kiss the corner of their mouth, or maybe with the lips barely touching. Instead of licking his own lips out of habit or to seduce, he would lick yours. Kuwei being a tease might also be a way for him to set up walls? In a sense that hes reminding both himself and the person hes kissing that this is just a kiss and it doesnt mean anything. And when hes kissed by someone he loves and trusts, hes downright pathetic, super soft and annoyingly sweet about it.

I dont know where else to put it so it will have to be here, but I like to think he chewed on his lips a lot as a child and whilst in captivity, leaving him with barely visible indents once he reached adulthood. When it comes to the type, Id say he could end up enjoying goodnight kisses next to the fireplace or lit by the flame in his own hand more than he would like doing anything in the early morning. Kuwei tends to get frustrated and bored easily so that might lead to certain effects as well, more specifically the speed, angle and desperation. He has hid for long enough and doesnt much care about who sees what, only whether they got a nice view from wherever they were standing at the time.

NINA ZENIK

Nina has practiced CPR from a very young age (I wouldnt call any of those a true kiss by any means, but it will make slightly more sense in just a moment), we see her perform one on Kaz in the books without hesitation, so I doubt her first 'kiss' was particularly enjoyable or wholly consentual or that she even remembers it. Perhaps from that, her kisses would grow to be particulary breathy in the future, although that doesnt mean its some kind of rule or that its not just a result of her personality being put into how she goes about it. We already know temple kisses are her thing among some other stuff, but she also doesnt seem to have a similar kind of bond with any other type that is not at neck level or above. Shes fine with them, but always seems to go to certain spots herself when she has a choice, singing and laughing through all of it. As Matthias tends to say a lot, the chase is a game to her, whether on top or beneath, she still wins.

Her skin is said to be soft, and supposedly so are her lips, plus the girl is a Heartrender and that surely results in many privileges. Surprisingly enough, I wouldnt say she is particularly experienced in the world of romance, even if her talent at sweet-talking might suggest otherwise. Perhaps shes had flings, one or two, maybe even a relationship at some point, but I dont see much more in my visions of her backstory. "Dont you want to play with me?" and "Cant you handle it?" are some of the repeating phrases in her vocabulary, but oh, it only gets worse once she feels well and truly romanced, swept off her feet as one might say, and that takes lots of effort. Its a good thing we know Nina has some high expectations, that way all of us can be her personal wingmen.

If anybody could obtain the famous movie achievement of leaving a string of saliva to connect her lips with her partners for just a few more moments, it would be Nina. Speaking of such things, she may also be the only one for who the 'let me kiss you against this wall so that they dont spot us' scenario might actually work (in theory), or at least give her enough time to incapacitate them during their confusion since she tends to be quite loud appearance wise. Likes being attended to and coddled, and no kiss has a chance without a firm grab or two. Will die if you do a tango dip with her in your arms. She is one of the biggest fans of mistletoes and finds it extremely romantic. Sometimes, when she is invited to watch a play or show, she will turn around and kiss her partner whenever the actors do. "Consider me madly in love. With the kisses, not you. ... But maybe also you if you did it again."

MATTHIAS BENEDIK HELVAR

And finally, we have our romantic-at-heart of the group, Matthias. Now, his and Ninas romance is the most obvious and out-in-the-open throughout the whole duology, and frankly he is the one I had the most trouble with writing, but the difference between seeing their first kiss from Ninas perspective and the one of Matthias is that theirs was his first kiss ever. All of his actions leading up to it, as well as those after, are a promise in some way or another, and Im not only talking about his vow to her. Nothing could have prepared me for when he lifted Nina straight off her feet and held her there as he kissed her, yet it was also the most in-character thing he ever could have done.

Matthias will absolutely, every time, start an hour long conversation on what led him to this moment, if it is the right time, the right place, the right everything... He will continue up until he himself is basically internally shouting at his own mouth to shut itself (he has very low patience despite everything mentioned above) or his partner takes the initiative themselves. The second option is prefered by both parties and a 5-star whine is the expected plus-one to excellent service. He is the type to gulp when you get too close. Will go mad if you can tell when he is holding on by a thread despite his lack of many facial expressions, especially if told something along the lines of "Just lose control, love".

He is particularly sensitive for textures. All humans are to some extent, the lips have more nerve endings in them than fingertips, but Matthias is the one who is fullfilled by it the most and frequently says stuff related to it like "Are you wearing chapstick?" or "I can feel the dip of your scar". Often acknowledges indirect kisses. Matthias has once said that kissing isnt about romance, that it should be proper and only done as a follow up to a conventional Fjerdan courtship, and while lots about him has changed during his canonical relationship with Nina, I think he might still enjoy going through at least some of these with somebody who might appreciate his efforts. Matthias is still highly religious even if he is now seeing the world from another perspective and there are some cultural things that for him go deeper than just tradition. In a very specific headcanon of mine, he has grown up fantasizing about having to lift up your chin to do it, and so now he does so even with taller partners who can reach his mouth just fine.

He would 100% take the 'Will you love me if I was a worm' jokes way too seriously. "How am I supposed to handle a worm? I could hold a butterfly, maybe kiss you if you were a wolf (but thats after a very extensive inspection of your molars)". Kisses the back of your neck after putting on a necklace. Pretends that lipstick stains dont turn him on to the highest setting.

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#six of crows #grishaverse #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #inej ghafa #kuwei yul bo #nina zenik #matthias helvar #kisses #character analysis #*screams into the void*#hope you enjoy #feel free to share your thoughts #💚🖤🧡💜💛💙❤️#fandom ships #writers on tumblr #fanfiction

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chaosandthe-deadblog · 10 months ago

Note

hi i’m that one person who was upset about a sonadow sex joke you made. let me preface by saying i’m not here to argue or scare you but to apologize.

you don’t have to respond to this at ALL i just saw your blog name and felt guilty for hurting you.

im sorry about upsetting you and reacting the way i did. i still think its eugh and everything. but i just get upset when people make jokes about that with characters previously stated to be minors because of personal trauma and people sexualizing me as a kid and just morals in general. of course i know that i can’t control how people enjoy their stuff, and i know it’s going to exist regardless. but i want to at least know if who im interacting with is someone i don’t want to talk to due to being a proshipper or whatever stuff like that.

i wasn’t trying to ‘cancel’ you or anything. i was upset and said something in the moment. i’m sorry. i should have just unfollowed and moved on. i should’ve saw the human i knew behind the screen but what i could only think of was a random person i didn’t know. i’m really sorry.

well, anon, i accept your apology. but also i dont. so let's take this one by one, okay?

first of all. you're still wrong, and i'm still angry.

it wasnt a "sex joke", i was commenting on a uquiz someone else made, because i found the sheer fact that sonadow of all ships was included in that quiz to be really funny. not to mention, the uquiz was based on statistics from ao3, and i guessed the correct answer by just knowing how shipping culture works. i thought this was funny. you know, people are allowed to find suggestive humor funny, even if you're uncomfortable with it, anon.

but i'll humor you. lets say i was doing the things i got accused of doing. big deal. i don't think you're wrong for being upset, much less for being uncomfortable, but one: could've settled this over dms, two: not everyone is you. not everyone is uncomfortable. not everyone cares so much. i didn't give that joke more than two seconds of thought, you clearly did, and i don't think you're wrong for that, i think it wasn't my problem.

secondly, and this will sound horrible, but (like i said) your discomfort isn't something i (the people running that oc poll, and my followers, by the way) needed to know about. i hear you, anon, and i'm sorry that all that happened to you. i understand the discomfort. but, like i said, we could've settled this in private, you could've at least told me which mutual you were, and no one else had to know.

third: i am not a proshipper, and i don't appreciate that you're still calling me gross, by the way. this isn't an apology if you're not accepting you were wrong. i'll humor you again and say that i was doing what you say i was doing: it is not that serious to me, and i don't like being called gross for something that is just plain, morally neutral weird (not good, not bad, neutral weird)

and fourth: thank you for at least recognizing what you should've done. however you didn't do that. from what i understand, based on what happened shortly after your anon, you went to the person running that sonic oc poll (which, whatever, i was losing anyway), and you lied about what i was doing to get me kicked out. good on you for realizing that was wrong. but you know, i'm still angry. im banned from many fandom events now because you couldn't just unfollow me. so i'm glad you realized it was wrong, i accept your apology, but i'm still very much angry with you.

i'm glad you're sorry, i'm glad you're recognizing i'm a human being (okay?) and i'm glad you at least tried to apologize. don't call me gross, apologize for real, and next time don't do this to someone through tumblr anon over whats essentially a common ocurrence on the sonic fandom, and every other fandom

(by the way, even if we weren't mutuals, you shouldnt do something like this to "a random person you don't know" either, but what do i know right? and "because of my trauma" isn't an excuse, because by that logic you also generated trauma in me, because now i'm fucking paranoid about everything i fucking post. i can thank you for that.)

have a nice day.

by the way

#asks #anon i beg you to leave me alone and get a better hobby

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galaxycunt · 11 months ago

Text

I Can Be Anything

1.5k words of silly little fun 😙 I promise

Listening to this while I wrote it hehe

A loud heckle cut through his story, “bull fucking shit, man!”

Buggy snapped his head in the direction of the woman pounding back beers two seats down. She didn’t look much older than him, carrying herself like she had decades more experience. Laughing, she rested her head in her palm like she expected him to do something about it.

”I’m new in town so I’ll let it slide that you don’t recognize me at first, sweetie.”

“Oh,” she smirked, “didn’t know the circus was in town. My bad.”

Buggy was leaning into his appearance, still didn’t appreciate the comparisons. But if this bitch was looking for a fight, she’ll get one.

”That’s right, it’s me. Buggy the Clown. The Genius Jester.”

”My mistake,” she stood up to curtesy, “my sincerest apologies. Didn’t realize you were the king of the clowns.”

The pirates in earshot laughed at his expense. A fight it is. Buggy gulped the last of his bottle, yanking back her hair. She yelped with a surprise, he couldn’t tell if her cheeks were flushed from the drink or something else.

She was pretty, long hair separated into two braids, tattoos of a career sailor, rope burns branded into her throat. All that admiring left him distracted, the woman stamping on his foot.

”Next time I’ll cut that hand off!”

”Oh yeah? Well listen up cu-“

”-oi! You two break any of my nice antique stools, I break your skulls. Got it?” The bartender cut in.

”Look at the guy, Jim. He ain’t scaring me,” she winked.

Buggy decided to brush her off, but she wouldn’t stop pestering him. Every time he told a joke, she laughed loud and sarcastic. Buggy was here to find a crew, stealing a ship and making a name for himself. Every time he approached someone, she was there.

”He’s gonna lead you straight to the depths, he can’t even get his lipstick to stay!”

”Oh, Stevie, don’t go. Sea Kings don’t like clowns, they taste funny!”

”Marines gonna make your sentence be performing for the troops. Fate worse than death!”

Every single time, a shit eating grin while she got drunker. Buggy just about had it, not wanting to leave and let her win. He sat back at the bar, face buried in his hands. Next thing she said, he told himself, he was going to put her in her place.

”Cigarette?”

”How about you fuck off before I smoke you!” it sounded better in his head.

Her eyes widened, “if you wanted your lips on me, should’ve just said so!”

His cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

She stared at him, blowing smoke in his face. As he opened his mouth, she smacked him hard. Buggy flew into a rage, fists flying as he straddled her. A huge mistake, she kicked him right in the groin. As she returned to her seat all smiles, his hands dragged her back down.

”Holy shit! His hands!”

Buggy dragged her across the barroom floor as she struggled, attempting slice something. Cursing as his body put itself back together again.

Buggy dragged her to the back alley behind the bar, reveling at how disheveled she looked now. Disembodied hands picked her up, feet not touching the ground so they could be eye level.

”No one, and I mean no one, fucks with Buggy The Clown.”

”Devil Fruit, huh? Kinda cheating, don’t you think?”

He enjoyed watching her squirm, “since when do pirates fight fair?”

”Touché,” she said butting heads.

Still no use, his hands in an iron grip as he writhed on the ground. She kicked his ribs for good measure, hands finally letting her go.

What a funny little clown.

The woman had a good laugh at his expense, unaware that Buggy was right behind her. He hit her over the head with his fists.

“What did I fucking say!”

”Ow! Fuck! Alright, alright!”

They sized each other up, she couldn’t take down a devil fruit user so easily. She was going to take a shot at it anyway, she wasn’t a coward.

”What’s your name anyway?”

She smiled, “Mad Dog Mara. Bet you heard of that.”

He did, the pirate who survived a hanging, killing the marines involved. So mad, she did it twice.

“Join my crew.”

”You fucking with me?”

”You scared away your competition, what else is a man supposed to think?”

”I only join real crews.”

A knife flew past her, “I’m a real fucking pirate. You’re looking at the fucking king.”

She charged at him, Buggy bracing himself. Their knives dug into flesh at the same time, his torso separated, hers did not.

“Right on, Buggy The Clown.”

He didn’t pull the knife out, “holy shit.”

She smiled, “upstairs I got a room. No need for a doctor. If you really ain’t gonna kill me.”

Carefully he picked her up, carrying her bridal style up to her room. Buggy knew a few tricks, using the first aid in her room. She fought a lot, the box littered with dried bloody fingerprints.

“Cut the top off, ruined anyway.”

She watched him work, with a gentleness he didn’t give her before. Her heart jumped up her throat, maybe this was it. Funny way to go, a clown to match.

”Don’t be like that, you survived worse.”

”Hm? Oh yeah, just gotta breathe through it. That’s all.”

He nodded, cleaning the wound as best he could. She felt the need to make a joke of the whole thing, she wasn’t used to someone else helping her out.

”Not the way I wanted you to take my top off,” she smiled at his red face, ”You’re new to this aren’t you?”

”Nope.”

”Is that right?”

He nodded, “served on a crew. My whole life. Went my own way at 15. Didn’t look back.”

He said the last part quieter, like he didn’t fully believe it himself. She knew that all too well.

”Hand me that bottle, I’m ready for the stitches.”

He let her squeeze his arm as he worked, “how’d you survive that execution?”

Her eyes glossed over, “rope broke the first time. I was there for hours. I prayed to whoever wanted to listen, ‘wasn’t I a child of this world? Don’t I deserve to live too?’ And then it broke.”

”And the second time?”

”I like you Buggy, so I’ll let you in on my trade secret. I kept a whistle in my throat. Lets me breathe.”

”Huh.”

She smiled, “what’s it like? Eating that fruit?”

He frowned, not answering her for a moment. He bandaged her up, taking a swig of her bottle. Watching the liquid pour down her throat, the way it moved as she gulped.

”It tastes like shit. A little unfair in the end, all those wonderful powers made useless with a few splashes of water. Some pirate I am.”

”Made it this far.”

”Yeah.”

They stared at each other in a comfortable silence. He was drunk, on the booze and adrenaline, finger grazing her skin along the bandages. Her breath hitched, pulling him closer by the elbow. He had long lashes, fluttering like butterflies. She never seen a man look like him before, and he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.

Like magnets, they pulled closer together. She could blame the day on this later, she needed him closer. Mara thought she should end fights like this more often. His fingers grazed the wound, a little concerned how good her whiny little moans sounded to him.

“Join my crew,” he said between kisses, “be my first mate.”

Buggy watched her squirm beneath him with stars in her eyes, it made him feel like the spotlight was on him. Relishing in the attention.

”Sure. As long as you keep doing that, right there.”

He was burning up, a spell cast upon him. She could make him do anything. The room was on fire, he needed to reach his release but he drew it out longer. His head spun, his brain catching up with him.

He helped her clean up, and change into something clean and dry. Carefully they snuggled up together. Buggy kept telling her their next plans, Mara threw out a few people she figured would be a good addition to his ship. And then they planned to get a bigger one.

”I’ll make you my queen, that I promise.”

”Unless I find it first, then I’ll be the king, right?”

“So I just sit around looking pretty?”

”You already have better hair than me. Why not?”

He laughed, “whatever you say, baby.”

Buggy waited for her at the dock, she insisted she would just need a check up with a doctor and would be ready to sail. He waited hours, unsure of where the doctor would be. The sun was setting, he went looking for her.

The doctor wouldn’t look him in the eye, his office showed signs of a struggle.

“Where is she? What happened?”

”Marines. Undercover.”

Buggy’s eyes widened. He needed to save her, by any means necessary.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x oc #buggy x you #Spotify

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