#I'm never drawing feathers or wings again :')

[cheesycatz]

What I imagine Spamton NEO would theoretically look like in the Wormton AU

Wormton doesn't actually know that NEO exists. He's never been inside of the mansion and never picked up the phone (Wormton himself would've have even been alive whenever the phone person tried to call canon Spamton, and whatever malworm found it would've rather chewed the cord off than listen to them). Still, I'm sure that he would absolutely want NEO if he knew what it was and how to use it.

Explaining myself under the cut:

How NEO works

In my personal interpretation, the NEO body is incomplete. The lightner abandoned it, so its code was never finished. Since it exists in the dark world, when a darkner (Spamton) attempts to use it, the body relies on that darkner's code to finish its own, causing NEO to respond differently to whichever darkner loads themself onto it. For example, my sneo design takes from the dormant bird-like attributes left over from Spamton's code before he turned into a puppet, resulting in exaggerated claws, fur, and feathered wings (this is definitely not just an excuse to make sneo a big bird beast).

For Wormton here, NEO took from his parasitoid wasp elements to create his translucent wings. I considered making him wingless, but I think they help change his silhouette and make him stand out. The green wires attach to his tail instead of his back, as I imagine he'd be crawling around on the walls a lot during the hypothetical bossfight. I put him at the same scale as puppet spamton to regular sneo, which puts Wormton NEO at 75 feet long. He's gained some fluffy antennae to mimic NEO's original wings, but lost some fur in order to show off the now metallic parts of his exoskeleton. His body is chunkier than regular wormton and the triangular chest opening has been changed to resemble the ribcage-like shape of wormton's "hearts" (aortic arches, what earthworms have). I decided I'd rather not deal with ten colors in one pallete and stuck with the pink and yellow parts from the original NEO design.

If Wormton NEO did exist, I imagine that he'd once again attempt to take Kris's soul once he realizes that he's tethered to the mansion. Ignoring that NEO just ceases to exist without the wires, I imagine that Wormton would want to use it to control the city. He's now big enough that he could probably cave in a building if he wanted to, so I don't think Cyber City would have a great time if this thing was let loose. With his newfound power, Wormton would no longer have a reason to hide, considering he could crumple any antivirus like a can. His disguise is more of a finger puppet than a costume at this scale, anyways. Perhaps he'd keep the addisons alive, picking them up and treating them like dolls while he begins to infect and destroy the city. Or, the addisons, alongside everyone else, evacuate to castle town, leaving him to starve alone in an abandoned city.

While NEO doesn't get to exist in the Wormton AU, Wormton does draw himself as NEO once, imagining a larger version of himself with colorful fluffy wings. It's much more pleasant that what he would end up with.

[bored-cat-child]

Deinonychus!

Of course this got a lot more detailed and complicated than intended, and thus took a bit longer as well...

Very experimental messing around with different brushes and smudging tools, but I like how it turned out.

The general silhouette and the shape of wings & tail was completely improvised, my only proper reference was a skeleton.

Colouration is partially inspired by a common loon and swallow. (No reason for that other than it made a nice design...)

[DeviantArt]

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[callofdudes]

I made more because... Because! @aidenlydia again, this is their au but I'm eating it like fish sticks on a plate of mac 'n cheese. Getting this scene out of my head because I love them and I have nothing else to do waiting for dinner.

More Viking SoapGhost.

Ghost watched, his eyes unmoving as John wrote with his charcoal wood pen on some old pages. Geez it must have been four pages with three drawings and eight life updates.

Finally John signed the bottom of the pages and rolled them up with a string.

"You done??" Ghost asked flatly when He finished.

"Yes, now I need these delivered back to Roach."

"You say that like I'm going to do it."

John looks at him, nodding. "You are."

Ghost sighs and groans. "I'm not your dumb messenger bird." He grumbles, shifting closer and standing. John pulls his cloak tighter and chuckles softly. "Actually, you are."

He holds out the folded papers to a pouty Simon. "Go on, shouldn't be long now if you get to it." John encouraged.

"Fine, but I'm bringing back a tab worth my while for it." He grumbled, looking up at the big man.

"Mhm, and I'll happily pay."

Ghost shifted, black wings flapping in the air, snatching the papers between his talons. He squawked at John, who could only smile softly, barely noticable.

And watched him head off. Simon didn't actually mind doing errands for John. If anything the combined stretching of his wings and the inevitable praise he was going to get for completing the assignment would be worth it.

Oh yes indeed.

John kept the fire lit, watching the open snowy land as Ghost's small form had left his sight. He poked the fire, watching the embers flock to the wind of the cave mouth, then over at Ghosts bedroll.

He sighed softly, placing his hand on it, noticing a stray feather stuck to the inside. He chuckled softly, picking it up and twirling it around.

"Be safe, Ghost."

Ghost did as he promised, he made the incredible eight hour journey in the shitty weather back to their small village. Fucking between houses to the main hall.

Stopping at the doors, his feet hit the ground, heading up the stairs and pushing the knocker open.

The large door swing, creaking when he entered. A head poked up, followed by a little smile. "Well well well, hunting season is barely started and you're already back."

Simon rolled his eyes softly, coming over and dropping the roll of papers. "From MacTavish."

"What is it??" Roach asked, undoing the twine.

"Hell if I know, I may be a crow but I do not snoop."

Roach gave him a look, and Simon sighed. "Ok not this time. But I was damn curious."

Roach chuckled softly. "Alright, I'll look these over, you go get some rest. Probably had a long trip."

"Well I got permission to run up a tab so I'm gonna go get my arse drunker than a bat in honey." He flipped the end of his cloth mask back over his shoulder to keep it secure. Heading back to the door and out to go get absolutely hammered.

And you don't want to see a shifter drunk, it's not always pretty. But Ghost has been starting to learn that eighteen drinks is when John has to cradle the poor crow with his talons straight out and wings a mess as he takes him home.

And of course, by the time Ghost had slept off the drunken night Roach had something new written up for him. Returning to the hall and taking the papers.

"Will you be alright to fly?? You look a little..."

"Mmm I'll be fine!" Ghost mumbled, heading from the hall and taking off again. Damn messenger bird. John better congratulate him at least or he's never running him these stupid errands ever again.

It was late when he returned, but he saw the familiar smoke and a crackling fire. Flapping his wings and stretching out his talons when he saw a dark figure among the casting, wobbling shadows.

He latched onto John's arm guard, crooning his neck and fluffing his feathers before tucking them in.

John noticed the letters and gently took them, noticing the scratchy pen writing of Roach.

"Thank you Ghost, you've done very well."

Simon melted, making a little noise and hopping up his arm, craning his head to peck at John's beard.

"Yes, good work." John put the papers down to run his large, calloused thumb over Simon's small head, gently smoothing the feathers down.

Oooh yeah, this is so worth it.

He fluffs his feathers, nipping at his hand when he attempted to pull away. "Alright then, if you insist... Get comfy."

Simon cawed at him. He wouldn't be getting comfortable. Hopping onto the ground and shifting, noticing his bedroll slightly closer.

"You miss me or something?"

"Only warming the place where my cold heart will go after I see that tab." He mumbles as he turns his attention mostly onto the letters.

Simon smiles a tad, laying down and getting comfy. He looks around, then at the fire, watching the flames dance. His head slowly coming down, resting against John's thigh.

It was hesitant, but then again peaceful. The silence only filled by the crackling fire. Simon's head feeling a mess from the last of the alcohol and the flight until Johns hand gently touched his head.

He didn't react, keeping himself stiff as Johns thumb absentmindedly stroked his hair. Eyes still glued on the letters, reading them through.

Simon relented to relaxing, curling up and pulling John's cloak over him slightly. His eyelids felt heavy, and the soothing warmth of John's hand slowly had him coming undone.

Letting himself fall asleep there, letting out soft breaths.

John's gaze finally flickered over to his partner, humming softly. "Good work, Simon. Can always count on you."

He put the papers aside and leaned back, watching the entrance of their camp as Simon slept. He would keep watch, he'd gotten enough of his own rest for now.

It's shorter but hell that first photo had me in a coma. Yes, I am insane, yes, I will make more, respectfully if I'm allowed to keep gobbling up these meals...

[brainrot-stitch]

AHAAA I FINISHED IT WOAHHH i usually don't finish art things omg...

Anyways current sabre design!!! (It will probably change bc I can NEVER make up my mind on any design ever sob)

He's such a goof :3 (IM NEVER DRAWING THAT RAINBOW ELYTRA AGAIN IM CRYING)

Anyways some headcanons below cuz I feel like yapping :3

-rainbow totally would have gotten him and sabre friendship necklaces (yk the matching kind with magnets that come together n all) and after knowing lucas for a bit he woulda made friendship bracelets !!

-like that one person I reblogged said, he's such a mad scientist he's so silly omgg

-i love the reincarnation au SO MUCH its literally fire but in normal headcanons I think he used to be part of the creed and an assasin and ermm

Basically I headcanon his whole assassins creed series was basically his backstory before starting to do research on these 'steve' entities

-when nervous/anxious his footsteps will be completely silent out of habit from the whole assassin thing, and he'd obviously do it when purposefully trying to sneak (he has probably scared rainbow or Lucas multiple times by doing this..)

-I'm not sure weather to headcanon that his wings were damaged by a steve really early on in the steve saga (like before rainbow could speak or maybe when dark was still pretending to be blue) or if it was smth that happened when he was still an assassin but it's one of those!!!

-hes an avian.. heh... if u couldn't tell from the ref sheet.. but NOT a chicken!! The chicken jokes are just bc of the hoodie and bc his feathers look a lil similar :3

-he has like 2 of the same chicken hoodie he'll wear most often but still has some normal outfits AND assassins outfits and weapons he keeps away (most are green or have some sort of green in them heh.. I might draw that later)

-ok ok ok I have so many eye headcanons it's so hrggrrrrh the main one tho is one I snatched from the reincarnation au and that's that he doesn't have eyes!! Bc of an injury or sum and he js says he has sensitive eyes and the bandana fabric is see through up close.. but he can still see bc he's a player and the way players work is weird. Other headcanon, green eyes. Other headcanon, brown eyes. Other headcanon, heterachromia green and brown eyes. Other headcanon pure white eyes. Other headcanon code eyes. Other headcanon (gets hit by a bus)

-if we r going with the reincarnation au for the eyes, I feel like only rainbow and Lucas would know, if we're going with the others, I'd say rainbow, Lucas, Alex, galaxy, and maybe the guardian (I forgot if that's what he was called or not) would know. If we're going with the code eyes, then only lucas would know

-not sabre specifically but I feel like steves in general wouldn't be very used to or know but about blood/gore stuff, bc they're more used to being destroyed/poofing, and later on being destroyed through a machine. Being actually killed by a sword or something of the sort they are not used to seeing, and are very touchy on the subject

-on that note I imagine if there's like a steve that's immune to most or all other steve powers and or machines that they're trying to get rid of and arguing on what to so abt I imagine sabre being like "oh 1 sec I got this" and boom that mf DEAD 😭

-and they'd b like 😰

"Guess we're gonna have to kill this guy sabre" "damn"

-ermmm silly billy activity...

-I feel like he'd know a lot more than the other steves on things like the nether and end (not end city tho that's a whole other mc headcanon I don't feel like yapping abt rn) bc those are the dimensions players have access too and steves usually dont.. so they'd b like "WTF SABRE WHAT R U DOING THAT IS A LITERAL HELLSCAPE WITH LAKES OF FIRE AND MONSTERS WEVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE FYM U CAN GET 'NETHERITE' THERE" and he'd b like "well don't go in the fire then and it anything attacks u kill it ig" (not actually sob.. I feel like only he and Lucas would go there bc most steves r hindered greatly by lava and the only ones we've seen that aren't are bad guys if my memory is correct)

Ermm I have more but I'm eepy and can't remember so those r for another day!!!

Reblogs>likes

Don't post my art to other platforms without my permission pls x3

[zapreportsblog]

↱ unexpected attractions ↰

➘ summary : pro hero hawks finds himself infatuated with a young woman he sees out when patrolling one day

➘ Hawks x reader, Bnha x reader, Keigo Takami x reader

The city of Musutafu bustled with activity, its streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights as dusk settled over the horizon. High above, the crimson feathers of the Pro Hero Hawks fluttered gracefully, his keen eyes scanning the cityscape for any signs of trouble. It was just another routine patrol for him, keeping the citizens safe and maintaining the peace.

As he glided through the skies, Hawks noticed a group of civilians huddled around a street vendor, their laughter and chatter drifting upward. Curiosity piqued, he descended with a graceful arc, landing near the bustling crowd. Peering down, his sharp gaze fell upon a young woman, her (h/c) hair caught in the gentle breeze as she conversed with the vendor.

"(Y/N)," the name slipped through the vendor's lips, and Hawks felt an inexplicable tug at his heartstrings. His red eyes lingered on her, captivated by her presence. She seemed to possess an air of innocence and warmth, drawing people to her effortlessly.

Unable to resist, Hawks cleared his throat and approached, his wings folding elegantly behind him. "(Y/N), huh?" he echoed, a charming smile curving his lips as he joined the conversation. The woman looked up at him, her (e/c) eyes meeting his fiery gaze.

"Oh, hi," she greeted, offering a friendly smile. "You must be a Pro Hero, right? I've heard about you. I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you."

Hawks nodded, his heart racing slightly as he admired the way her smile lit up her face. "The pleasure's mine. Just Hawks will do." He extended a gloved hand towards her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"(Y/N)," she repeated, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she shook his hand. "I've seen you on TV. Your wings are incredible."

He chuckled, an almost boyish excitement bubbling within him. "Thanks. They're handy, I guess."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, Hawks finding himself hanging onto her every word. He learned about her passions, her dreams, and her love for the city. The more he discovered, the deeper he found himself falling under her spell. There was something about her that ignited a fire within him, a desire to be near her, to protect her.

Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, the two of them engrossed in each other's company. Hawks laughed at her jokes, and she blushed at his compliments. The city's noises faded into the background as their connection deepened, creating a world of their own.

As the night wore on, Hawks realized he had never felt this way before. This wasn't just admiration for a fellow citizen; it was an infatuation, a longing that he couldn't explain. He couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to keep her close, to ensure her safety at all costs.

"I hate to cut our chat short," Hawks said reluctantly, his heart heavy at the thought of leaving her side. "But duty calls. I need to get back to patrolling."

(Y/N) nodded understandingly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Of course. Stay safe out there, Hawks."

He gave her a charming grin, his wings flexing instinctively as he prepared to take to the skies. "Don't worry about me. And hey, maybe we'll bump into each other again."

As Hawks soared back into the night sky, his thoughts were consumed by the young woman he had just met. He couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was more than just chance—it was the beginning of something inexplicable, a pull that he couldn't resist.

Little did he know, this chance meeting would mark the start of a profound and tumultuous journey, intertwining their fates in ways neither of them could have foreseen.

Days turned into weeks, and Hawks found himself patrolling the city more frequently than ever before, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds below for a glimpse of (Y/N). He couldn't deny the growing infatuation he felt for her, the way his heart quickened every time her name crossed his mind.

One evening, while perched atop a high-rise building, Hawks caught sight of (Y/N) once again. She was walking along the bustling streets, her presence seemingly radiant even in the midst of the city's chaos. Without hesitation, he spread his crimson wings and descended, landing gracefully before her.

"(Y/N)," he greeted with a warmth in his voice that he hadn't felt in years. His heart raced as her eyes met his, her surprise mirrored in the subtle widening of her (e/c) orbs.

"Hawks," she replied, a mixture of astonishment and delight evident in her tone. "Fancy running into you again."

He chuckled, a touch of nervousness dancing beneath his confident exterior. "It's funny how fate works sometimes."

As they chatted, Hawks discovered more about (Y/N)'s daily life—the way she worked tirelessly to support her family and the kindness she extended to strangers on the street. His admiration for her only grew, solidifying into something that was undeniably affectionate.

As the weeks turned into months, their encounters became more frequent, and Hawks found himself drawn to (Y/N) like a moth to a flame. He'd fly by her workplace, stopping for a quick chat, or they'd meet during his patrols. Their conversations deepened, revealing their hopes, fears, and dreams.

One evening, after rescuing civilians from a massive fire, Hawks landed near (Y/N)'s apartment building. Smoke still lingered in the air, and he was covered in soot and sweat. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to pay her a visit.

(Y/N) opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of him in his disheveled state. "Hawks, you're... you're a mess."

He chuckled, a wry smile on his lips. "Yeah, well, saving lives doesn't always come with looking presentable."

She stepped aside, inviting him in. "Come on in. I'll get you some water."

As he sat in her living room, Hawks couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. Her apartment was cozy and welcoming, reflecting her personality perfectly. He watched as she bustled around the kitchen, his heart warming at the simple domesticity of the scene.

"(Y/N)," he began, his voice a bit more hesitant than usual. "I... I've really enjoyed spending time with you."

She turned to face him, handing him a glass of water. "Likewise, Hawks. You're not like other heroes I've met. You're different, in a good way."

Hawks felt a rush of emotions flood over him—gratitude, affection, and a hint of uncertainty. He knew that he was treading on dangerous territory, that his feelings for her were becoming stronger by the day. But he couldn't help himself; he was drawn to her in a way that he couldn't explain.

As the night wore on, the two of them shared stories and laughter, their connection deepening even further. Hawks found himself opening up about his life as a hero, the challenges he faced, and the expectations placed upon him. (Y/N) listened with empathy, offering a level of understanding that he had never encountered before.

As he left her apartment that night, Hawks realized that he was falling in love—a realization that both exhilarated and terrified him. He was a Pro Hero, someone who was supposed to be above such vulnerabilities. Yet, in (Y/N)'s presence, he felt human, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

Little did he know, his growing affection for (Y/N) would lead him down a path he never could have predicted, setting into motion events that would challenge his identity, his loyalties, and the very nature of his existence as a hero.

As the days went on and weeks came and go, Hawks found it increasingly difficult to control his emotions. (Y/N) had become a constant presence in his thoughts, a flickering flame that grew brighter with each passing moment. He couldn't ignore the growing obsession that consumed his mind, consuming him within its fiery grip.

Everything about (Y/N) became magnified in Hawks' eyes. Her every action, every word, and every smile held an unparalleled significance. He analyzed her every move, searching for hidden meanings and deciphering her thoughts. In his mind, she was no longer just a person; she was his mate, his one true connection in this chaotic world.

Hawks began to subtly alter his daily routine to ensure their paths crossed more often. He started tracking her movements, gathering information about her schedule, and arranging coincidental encounters. It was an orchestrated dance of obsession, with Hawks pulling the strings, and (Y/N) unknowingly dancing to his tune.

He meticulously collected mementos from their brief encounters: a fallen strand of hair, a discarded coffee cup, even a forgotten pencil. These mundane treasures held an inexplicable power over him, making his heart race with anticipation. They became his precious possessions, his connection to (Y/N), and his reassurance that their fates were intertwined.

In his quest to be closer to her, Hawks routes as (Y/N) and even went to the same places she would visit frequently. He seamlessly integrated himself into her world, earning her trust and admiration. But this was only the beginning. His obsession demanded more; it demanded absolute possession.

Hawks began to indulge in his darker desires, feeding the flames of his twisted infatuation. His urge to protect her turned into an insatiable need to control her every move. He meticulously hacked into her social media accounts, devoured the digital remnants of her life, and analyzed every interaction she had. Every notification, every message became evidence of her existence.

Late at night, in the cold depths of his secret room, Hawks poured over pictures and videos of (Y/N), his eyes shining with anticipation and possessiveness. It was a dangerous game he played, fueling his obsession with every glimpse of her smile, every hint of vulnerability she unknowingly revealed.

His obsession grew as he yearned for their worlds to merge entirely. He envisioned a future where (Y/N) belonged solely to him, where he could protect her from all harm and cherish her without judgment. In his delusional fantasies, he was the savior, the one who would provide the love and security she lacked.

However, deep down, Hawks sensed the fragile line he was treading. He understood the danger that lurked within his obsession, threatening to consume him completely. Yet, he couldn't resist the gravitational pull he felt towards (Y/N). His heart and mind were irreversibly entangled with hers, and he was unwilling to let go.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Hawks's love had transformed into something far more sinister. His obsession had become his reason for existence, fueling his every action and decision. It was a dark path he walked, driven by the overwhelming desire to possess what he believed was rightfully his.

[mysteriousmaninthesmoke]

Next - Latest

SOOOOO..... I have been seeing animal HRT show up on Twitter a lot in the trans community because of @ayviedoesthings little dragon comic so I thought "Hey why don't I join the fun." But there are two problems.

I'm a straight cis mostly white guy and

I AM HORRIBLE AT DRAWING ANYTHING THAT IS NOT A ROBOT!

SO I DECIDED! ah to hell with it I never cared about my masculinity, I am a being of ADHD, autism, OCD, AND CHAOS! FATE GAVE ME A MALE FORM TO EXIST IN!! I WOULDN'T GIVE A FLYING FLIP IF TOMORROW IT GAVE ME A FEMALE ONE!!! and also I'll just do it in a written story. but I am not doing someone going through the whole HRT process. 1. because I would probably be very grim describing it and 2. my brain won't stop thinking about what would happen if the military had access to a drug that would turn their soldiers into animal soldiers. SO HERE IS

PROJECT CHIMERA

Part 1

General Samuel grumbled as he rode the elevator down. If it was up to him he would have never approved this project. If it was up to him he would have never tested this on former soldiers. If it was up to him he would have gone with the doctor with the German-sounding name instead of putting the cryptic scientist who somehow knew about the project and contacted the government about being in charge. And if it was up to him he would have never would have never put himself as the one to be reviewing this project. As the elevator stopped and the doors opened Sam saw a man in a lab coat waiting for him. "Ah, General. So nice of you to visit us." said the man. Sam assumed this was the scientist. Doctor Thánatos. "Come in, Come in. I got something big I want to show you." The scientist turned around and quickly walked down the hallway. As Sam walked down the hall with the scientist, he noticed big cells to his sides with humanoid beasts in them with the names of the occupants by the cell, one of whom he recognized. Sergeant Thorn, one of the best hand-to-hand fighters he knew, before she lost her legs and an arm in an explosion. But now it looks like she was more than a fighter, she was a beast. Not only were her legs and her arm back, but she now sported green scales and a long tail. She resembled a female version of the villain the lizard. Suddenly Thorn jumped towards him, causing him to step back. her claws struck the reinforced glass wall that divided them. She let out a guttural laugh. "Ah, it's nice to see a familiar tasty face." She said licking her teeth "What's wrong soldier. Don't you know time changes people?" Sam was shocked. This was not the Thorn he knew he knew. She was tough, but she would always rather make friends than start a fight. "What's wrong captain. Not happy to see old friends captain." Said a voice behind him. Sam quickly turned around and saw in front of him a creature with dark black feathers covering its body, razor-sharp claws for feet and hands, and giant black-as-night wings sprouting from its back. "Oh sorry is it General now?" It said from a sharp-beaked mouth. Sam turned to look at the nameplate. Pilot O'hares. Sam knew him. One of his old drink buddies. He had heard that he quit the Air Force when he crashed his favorite jet, one he had gone on so many missions with, saying he would never fly again. "Ah, Ignore them. They aren't important right now." Sam turned to the scientist who was at the end of the hall by a big metal door. He was about to question what he did to his old friends when he noticed something. Three empty cells, one of them having more dust than the other. Doctor Harris, Private Gorgonzola, and Private Tompson. "I got some questions for you egg head. Why the hell are these people in cells, Why the hell are three of them empty, AND WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THEM!" The General yelled angrily "I was told they would look more human like this far into the project and not like animals. They also shouldn't be acting like ones too." The scientist only let out a laugh. "Oh I will answer the first and third questions but I will only answer the second once you see what's behind these doors. Now the cells are for ours and also for their safety. The normal drug that excuse of a doctor is selling is quite too slow, so with some modifications, I was able to speed it up, though it does seem to increase a person's animalistic instincts. Still, I see that as an improvement. My version is much more suited for the battlefield." The scientist pressed some buttons on a keypad and the metal door opened. "Now let me show you my personal project."

This is part 1 and part 2 will be out soon

[cuubism]

A heist for a crown for a king? 🤔👑

yes. dream deserves a crown. dream insists he doesn't need a crown, everybody knows he is king. also he has his helm. hob says how many times i gotta tell you it's not about NEEDING it. it's about how fucking sexy you'll look. that's the priority. also you deserve it. dream is still flummoxed.

may i propose a DREAM heist for a DREAM crown.

--

Hob was... definitely going to get in trouble for this.

"We're definitely going to get in trouble for this," said Matthew, perched on his shoulder. He tittered nervously. And Matthew was one of the most ride-or-die people-- birds?-- Hob had ever met, so this was not a good sign. "Like. Getting my wings cut off trouble."

"He's not going to cut your fucking wings off, Jesus Christ," said Hob. He crept through the dreamspace, keeping to the shadows so as to try to avoid alerting the dream itself to their presence. "Drawing and quartering is a lot more entertaining."

"HOB. What the fuck." Matthew's claws dug into his skin like he really did mean to separate Hob's arm from his shoulder.

Hob shrugged. "Didn't live through 'ye olde medieval times,' as you put it, for nothing."

"I didn't call it that."

"Yeah, you did. That's what I get for agreeing to watch A Knight's Tale, I suppose."

Matthew squawked. "It's a good movie!"

"It was a good movie right up until it managed to convince you that "We Will Rock You" was actually sung at jousts," said Hob.

"In my defense--" started Matthew, then clacked his beak shut. "Nah, actually, I don't have a defense for that. I must have been totally sloshed."

Hob snorted. "Oh, you were."

"Well, who decided it was a good idea to feed Bailey's to a raven?"

"There was no point at which I thought it was a good decision," said Hob. He couldn't help his grin. "I just don't mind making a bad one."

"And here I thought we were friends."

Hob slipped through a doorway, ducking around the next corner. The dream castle was significantly more winding than a real one. It was slow going.

He started humming to himself, an incongruously jaunty old execution ballad. "His quarters stand not all together, But ye mai hap to ring them thether..."

"I'm begging you to stop," said Matthew. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a serious problem?"

Hob laughed. "Many times."

A small group of people -- figments of the dreamscape -- strode around the corner. Hob ducked into a tiny alcove, one which hadn't been there before he'd thought of needing it. He was gradually getting better at manipulating the Dreaming.

And his heart was hammering. Dream theft or not, it was thrilling.

"Never thought I'd be part of fucking Inception," grumbled Matthew, peering to see if it was all clear.

Hob crept back out into the hall and up a spiral staircase. "This is way more fun than Inception."

"And way more dangerous."

"You loved the last outing!"

"Yeah, that one didn't involve sneaking around in my boss's subconscious."

Hob rolled his eyes. "It's not Dream's subconscious." Finally at the center of the absolute maze that was the castle, he spied his prize, and slipped right through the bulletproof glass to get at it. On a stand at the center of the room sat the most gorgeous tiara, a winding thing of diamond leaves and ruby berries. He grinned. "It's the Princess's."

He swiped the thing from its stand, leaving a weight in its place for the pressured alarm he was sure still existed even in a dream.

"Dream is the Dreaming, dude. We're gonna get caught."

"Well, that's why you're here, isn't it? It's normal for you to be in dreams, it's not for me. You're my cover. You'll make it way less likely for Dream to--"

And they were yanked from the dream.

"Drawn and quartered!" Matthew squeaked, and then they were standing in the throne room.

Dream was, of course, standing a few steps up on the grand staircase, glaring at them. Glaring at Hob, really. Matthew squawked again in fright, puffing up his feathers. Hob just grinned back at Dream.

"When I gave you free run of the Dreaming," Dream started, some of the menace Hob had heard him use with rogue nightmares on display, "this was not what I meant."

Hob wasn't afraid of Dream, though. Never had been. "Don't take it out on Matthew," he said. "Wasn't his idea."

Dream's stormy gaze flickered over to Matthew. "Matthew, you are dismissed. I will deal with you later."

Matthew didn't need to be told twice. He winged away out of the throne room, calling back, "Good luck with getting drawn and quartered, Hob!"

Dream raised an eyebrow. He still looked dreadfully unamused. "Drawn and quartered?"

"We've watched too many medieval movies," Hob explained.

"Ah." His gaze found the tiara clasped in Hob's hand. "What, exactly, is that?"

He obviously knew. It was made of dream stuff, after all. Still, Hob knelt and held it out to him. "For my liege."

Dream strode down the few steps separating them, fluid as water streaming over a fall, his long cloak trailing behind him. Majestic creature. Majestic king. Did he really expect Hob to be at all normal about it?

Dream plucked the tiara from Hob's hands. He tilted it back and forth. The light through the stained glass illuminated it in every color imaginable and cast refracted rainbows on his face. "You stole it from a dream."

Hob flashed him a crooked grin. "Guilty."

Dream tipped his head up with one fingertip under his chin, until Hob's neck was craned back and he was meeting his gaze. "That," he drawled, his eyes flashing dark, "is very disrespectful."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." Dream didn't release Hob's chin; if anything, he leaned closer so Hob had to look up even further. "Did you think you would not be caught? Creeping around in my halls?"

"We'll, I'm very good," Hob said. This was hardly the first thing he'd stolen for Dream, though it was the first one he'd attempted in the Dreaming.

"Or perhaps," continued Dream, and the darkness in his eyes looked hungry, now, though no less dangerous. "Perhaps, you wanted to be caught."

Hob winked at him, cheeks heating. "Well. I may be good, but I could hardly expect you not to feel it when it's your skirts I was rustling under."

"Is that what you were doing?" Dream swept his thumb along Hob's lip, dipping into his mouth. "Fiending for punishment?"

"Just trying to please my lord. Are you pleased, my love?"

"That is not quite the word I would use, dearest one." A sharp smile was creeping its way onto his lips, eyes burning with a dark warmth, like smoldering coals.

He placed the tiara on Hob's head.

Shadows dripped from it, falling over Hob's shoulders and back. Dream's hands lingered at Hob's temples, stroking his hair back behind his ears.

"Devoted one." His voice rumbled pleasantly through Hob's body, and Hob shivered. "Mischievous one. What am I to do with you?"

"Only whatever you want," said Hob, leaning into his touch. "As usual."

"Hmm. I think..."

Shadows fell around the throne room, dropped from the ceiling like banners and speckled like blackened stars. Hob knew those shadows, knew the way they were meant to intimidate though they did nothing but make him want more, make him hungrier, make him want to hold Dream close in every meaning of the word.

And he knew that bright darkness in his lover's eyes, too. The sky during an eclipse.

Dream drew him back to his feet. Hob stumbled in so they were a breath apart.

"Whatever prize you were seeking when you embarked on this foolhardy task?" Dream hummed, just before pulling Hob in to meet his lips. "I think you should claim it."

[nat-1-whump]

We need to give winged whumpees more love. Consider:

As hurt, we've got...

Sick Whumpee struggles to sleep because their wings make lying down tricky. This makes them extra miserable when they're already sick, tired, and desperately need to sleep but just can't get comfortable.

When Whumpee gets badly injured on the field, it takes the whole team to pin them down so they don't thrash around and make it worse while Caretaker tries to treat them. They've got people holding their legs, arms, and wings, and as much as Whumpee screams and writhes in pain, they don't let go. While they try to pull their wing from their teammate's grip, Whumpee accidentally dislocates it.

Whumper restrains Whumpee and rips their feathers out, one by one... Or all at once, if they are so inclined.

Whumpee gets caught in some kind of trap that covers their wings in gunk, effectively pinning them to the ground as they desperately try to escape from Whumper.

Sick with a horrible fever, Whumpee feels freezing cold no matter how much they're actually burning up. They keep trying to wrap their wings around themself for warmth, but Caretaker keeps stopping them by spreads their wings out. Whumpee groans as they try to pull their wings back. Caretaker whispers an apology, but they still can't let Whumpee risk making their fever worse.

Whumpee gets knocked out in midair, plummeting to the ground completely helpless. Or slamming into every tree branch, rooftop, or clothes line on the way down.

And as comfort, there's...

Caretaker gives Whumpee a warm bath and massages the dried blood out of their feathers. By the time they're done, Whumpee is fast asleep.

Caretaker repositions the pillows and blankets on Whumpee's bed into a sort of nest, trying to help Whumpee get as comfortable as they can. Afterwards, they bundle Whumpee in a blanket, wrapping Whumpee in their own wings first to make the blanket fit around them better and provide some extra warmth.

After Whumpee gets badly injured, Caretaker bandages up their wings, trying to soothe them whenever they cry out from the pain. Unable to fly, Whumpee gets increasingly impatient with themself over the following days. Caretaker notices their frustration and gently encourages them to take it easy and let their wings rest.

Whumpee uses their wings as a blanket for both themself and Caretaker as they snuggle together on the couch.

When Whumpee can barely walk due to their injuries, the weight of their wings only adds to the struggle. Though they encourage Whumpee to stay in bed and rest as much as possible, Caretaker is happy to wrap their arm around Whumpee's waist and help them around the house. Whumpee rests a wing on Caretaker's shoulders as they make their way to the kitchen for some warm food.

Caretaker asks Whumpee to hold still so they can draw their wings in their sketchbook. They say it's so Whumpee can see what their wings look like without trying to bend backwards in a mirror, but there's a silent understanding between the two that it's because they're both craving some time together. Whumpee starts to feel stiff from holding their wings out, but they can't help but smile a bit at the way Caretaker leans closer to watch the light move across their feathers. Though Whumpee had never seen their wings as anything particularly beautiful, they set off a sort of sparkle in Caretaker's eyes.

And maybe some wing-related dialogue, such as...

Whumper grinned, picking up a pair of wire cutters. The tool glinted in the flickering torch light. "Well, you've gone and flown a little too close to the sun, didn't you, Whumpee? Not to worry, though. You'll never fly again, when I'm through with you."

"Oh, why won't you sing for me, my beautiful songbird?" Whumper drawled as they ran a finger along Whumpee's throat. Whumpee only glared back. If it weren't for the muzzle, they would have spat on Whumper's shoes. They squirmed in their restraints, leather straps binding their wings close to their back.

"Oh, you poor thing... What happened to your wings? C'mere, let me look at them..." Caretaker pulled Whumpee into an embrace, grabbing their wings with gentle hands. Their breath hitched as they noticed that, under the tattered feathers, Whumpee's injuries were even worse than they thought.

Caretaker slapped sick Whumpee's cheek, trying to wake them up. "Hey, Whumpee, um. Listen, y-you're fever's getting worse and I just need to know... Whatever you are, do you go to a doctor or a vet?" They weren't exactly prepared for this winged stranger to show up on their doorstep half-dead. While they might have normally found their dilemma a bit comedic, right now it was hard to laugh. Whumpee desperately needed medical help, but they had no idea where to take them.

"Ngh-stop! Let go of my wings, or so help me I'll---" Whumpee's protests turned into a scream as Caretaker poured antiseptic onto a cloth and pressed it against their gaping wound. Whumpee passed out from the pain, falling limp with tears still streaming down their face. As their vision faded, they heard Caretaker's whispered apologies.

"Six months for the feathers to grow back?!" Whumpee's lower lip started to quiver. "B-but... I can't fly..." They took a wing in their hands, running their fingers along the bare, bloody skin where their feathers had been ripped out. Caretaker reached out to put a hand on Whumpee's shoulder, but Whumpee flinched back. A tear rolled down their cheek, stinging them as it landed right on an open cut on their wing. "Nonononono, th-there's gotta be something you can do! Anything! Please... I want my feathers back."

Just... Wings. Yeah.

[hirsheyskisses]

It Takes Two. #02

A Demon Pirate.

RORONOA ZORO x READER

Prev | Next

"Marines?"

"Never heard of em? Fuck ya do, grow up under a rock?!" He scoffed, drawing his blades. From behind the ship came two, three, no- five more ships. They hadn't noticed you yet, being in such a small boat.

"First off, I have heard of them, just never seen them. Secondly, I grew up on a rock." You scoffed, quickly undoing the rope around you and letting it fall to the boat. "Sheathe your sword! We don't have to fight, I have an idea, but it had to be quick and we have to ditch the boat." You moved closer to Zoro. You could question why he was running from the bad guys later, right now you knew the odds of battle were against you both. "Won't be that hard f'me to fight 'em."

Zoro still sheathed his blades, and without warning him further, your wings snapped open and you shot at him, arms wrapping around his lower torso and legs doing the same. "GH- feathers-" He cursed, you lifting his body and powerful pumps off your wings sent you both heading right for the ships. You tucked your head and angled the tufts of feathers on your head to cover his mouth, flying close to the ocean. In an instant you approached the last marine ship, flying behind it. Your back was strained, and finding a piece of wood that jut out, you landed.

"See.. now we're out of sight." You removed the tuft from his mouth and instead pressed closer against him, trying to keep your balance. Being in the back of the ship, below the deck and resting on a narrow piece of wood, you pressed yourself a bit closer to the swordsman to ensure he didn't fall into the ocean. Zoro was still recovering, and finally whispered, "should be used to people doing that. Luffy does that shit all the time."

You snickered, and winced at the movement. Your wings tucked close and Zoro curiously touched your back, hearing your hiss, he sighed. "Still. You're injured. Should've just let me fight.."

Scoffing, you replied, "still might have to. We have two options. Fight, or pray to the gods I can carry you back in time to warn the others." Your voice was barely a whisper. Zoro grunted softly, taking the bandanna looking thing from off his arm and carefully wrapping it on his head. It came to rest just above his eyes, and he placed a hand on your head. It was just then you realized how close the two of you were: but it wasn't like you could move.

"We fight. You're injured enough as it is- you bring me up there, and I'll take care of all five ships." "There's five ships filled with men! How is one man going to take on all of that by himself?! No way!"

He snorted, ruffling your hair. "I'm stronger than I look."

You opened your mouth to argue, then thought better of it. The two of you had the element of surprise. If you could fly above a large group on the first ship, drop him in the center, and fly on to the next to cause some chaos, you could slow them down. Further, you could rip up their masts with their feathers, maybe destroy the wood..

"Fine."

You wrapped your arms around him again and snapped open your wings, "when you're ready to be transported to the next ship, just shout Feathers. I'm going to slow down the ships while they're focused on you."

Zoro grinned at that, an almost animalistic grin. It was enough to send a shiver down your spine, "good. I'm looking forward to this."

You shook off the sudden feeling of unease, instead just pushing you both off the edge and into the air. It took you a few seconds but you were hovering over the ships deck, confused marines staring up at you before you dropped Zoro. Something told you he'd be fine- so the moment his feet safely made contact with the deck, you tucked your wings and shot forward, feeling your feathers sharpen, and tore through the sail of the ship.

"It's Roronoa Zoro! The Pirate Hunter!" "Hold steady, men! We outnumber him 100 to 1!" "Someone call and tell the other ships!"

You turned mid flight, much, much faster mow that you didn't have the added weight of Zoro, and dove down, weaving in-between the men and slapping their weapons away, your feet barely touching the deck as you launched yourself towards the next ship, grabbing a sword from a nearby marine who'd come for you, leaving him in the dust.

Confused shouts and cries for battle were not all you heard. You didn't care to pay them any mind, only listening for Zoro's call. You tore through the next sail, the ripping through the tough fabric with ease. "Who is that woman?! Stop her!" You'd barely twisted out of the way, a bullet whizing past your head. Adrenaline was now coursing through your veins as you rose above the ship, and allowed your body to fall. Bullets continued to whiz by your head, but you're faster. You hit the deck with grace and, spinning on your toes, launched yourself at the gunning crew, slamming your body and wings into theirs and sending them tumbling back. The sharpness of your feathers had a few a little sliced up, but you recognized there was no permanent damage.

Your wings spread yet again as you prepared to take off again, hearing a familiar voice, "FEATHERS!"

Zoro had finished that battle quickly. Before the marines on your boat could recover, powerful movements had you back in the air and zooming towards Zoro.

The swordsman had two blades in his hand. There it was again. That animalistic grin of his and that horrifyingly hungry look in his eyes. It made you want to turn tail and run, but alas, you dove besides his body and scooped him up, now significantly slower as you lifted him in-between the ships.

"Not bad work, Feathers! We'll make a swordsman outta ya yet."

Zoro charged into battle. This time, you hesitated. He was fast, and cruel. His blades struck down each marine, cutting their blades away and striking down the bullets that flew at him, as if they were little more than butter. His movements were graceful, not a single movement of his was wasted. You were almost in a trance, watching him cut down the soldiers. But adrenaline quickly came rushing back as a bullet tore through your feathers. Wincing at the feeling, you turned to the other three ships.

A snap of your wings had you barreling forward, tearing through the sails of the next. You knew the average eye couldn't keep track of you: not when you were focusing solely on speed and the strength of impact, using the blade to pry through the fabric even faster. Tearing through one, two, three, move on to the next ship.. repeating until all of the sails except for one ship's had been torn. Twisting and launching yourself in between the masses of men, confused shouts and ill thought strikes slicing towards you, but by the time their blades raised, you were to the next ship- the ship zoro was on.

The sight was almost horrifying. Bloody masses of men everywhere, and yet again, Zoro stood in the middle. That wild, animalistic look in his eyes- it was when you'd finally thought of a word to use. Demon. He looked like a demon. Shaking off the fear that'd settled in your core, you dove, allowing your body to come to rest at the wheel. Your eyes were glued to the battle as you adjusted the sword in your hand, preparing to dive to Zoro's side at a moments notice. But This time, he didn't even need your help. Masses of men sent flying into the air, as he leaped to the next ship that'd gotten too close. The screeching soon subsided, and you'd be amazed if the battle had lasted a total of five minutes.

"Feathers! We're done here." You slowly lifted to the air and flew over to Zoro's position. He was covered in blood and truly.. he looked insane. But as you moved to grab him, the look faded into a playful grin. "Not bad, for an injured bird." "Oh hush. Should see me on a good day- besides, I didn't have much of a choice." You wrapped your arms around him and lifted him back to the ship with its sail still in tact. Zoro eyed it. "Whyd ya leave this one?" "We're gonna steal it. Obviously."

"Guess that means we gotta throw all the bodies overboard."

"..yeah..." You trailed off, and Zoro removed his bandanna. "Let's get to work then."

...

It only took about 15 minutes with the two of you working together. It was in complete silence as darkened storm clouds began to show in the sky, yet the storm clouds were the least of your concern. You managed to ensure Zoro remained in your peripheral vision at all times- you'd only been with these pirates a short time, and despite them saving your life, you were nervous. Specifically, of Zoro. That glint in his eyes.. it still sent a chill down your spine.

"'Chu lookin at me like that for? Got something on my face??"

Zoro snapped, stalking over to you. Instinctively you cowered away, quickly defending yourself with, "I was just spacing out." To your surprise, the swordsman halted. For a long moment he looked confused, eyes narrowed, before shrugging his shoulders. "If you say so, (Name). The ship is ready to go- I'll take the wheel for a bit. You know how to man the sails?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I had some practice. With this storm rolling in again I'm a bit nervous- but as long as we don't move too far, I trust the your crew will find us just from the wind blowing. Even now I can't fully sense them." Zoro nodded his head thoughtfully, and it was around this time you began to truly feel the strain of your injury. Shit, you ever did it big time.

"How did you.. cut those men down so easy? So mercilessly?" you blurt out, immediately regretting it when he tensed up. "It isn't merciless. I didn't kill half of them, they'll be fine. In case you didn't remember, we're pirates. I'm a pirate. We don't do mercy- and I damn well ain't no hero."

Swallowing slowly, you nod. Zoro scoffed, "stop worrying your feathery brain and trust me. I'll get us back to the crew."

[takingchences]

good intentions pt. 2 - DABI

A young agent for the Hero Commission offers a hand to a scarred boy on the street, unaware that one act of kindness would come back to haunt her years later. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

Pairing: Yandere!Dabi x fem!oc ( feat. Hawks )

Warnings: mature language, implied smut (Hawks), drugging, kidnapping, stalking, voyeurism, dacryphilia

Why are the crazy ones so hot 😩

series masterlist + face claim

Fuck. I'm never drinking again.

Kazuha groaned groggily, her head feeling ten times heavier than normal as she tried to lift it. Her vision was blurry, her senses dull and muted. Her body screamed with each subtle movement. A metallic sound rattled in her ear when she tried to move her hands, which immediately sobered her up. The cold bite of metal on the sensitive skin of her wrists made her heart rate spike.

She was handcuffed.

What the fuck?

The last thing she remembers before waking up was talking with Keigo on the phone. His patrol was almost over and he'd asked to meet up for drinks. She'd changed and gone to their favorite bar... that's it. She draws a complete blank for everything else after that.

Keigo will be looking for me. She couldn't feel the familiar tickle of his feather against her clavicle, but she wouldn't allow herself to panic. He'd given her the necklace after a particularly difficult mission with a joke about always wanting to be close to her heart. It was one of the things she loved most about the winged man. He'd seen the toll her job had taken on her and he'd jumped into action to lift her spirits. Keigo is her own personal hero. He saves her from herself on a daily basis.

If the feather is somewhere nearby, he'll find it. I just have to buy some time until he gets here.

"Sleeping Beauty is finally up, huh? And here I thought I'd have to kiss you awake." A deep, amused voice echoed through the room she was in. Her eyes darted around the dim room, looking for whoever just spoke. From what she could tell, she seemed to be in some sort of abandoned warehouse. It was mostly empty space with the exception of a few large crates up against the walls.

"The hell is this?" She jerked her arms, testing the strength of the chains. Her years of training had prepared her for situations like these, but the way her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton was making it difficult to focus. "Who are you?"

Footsteps filled the room coming from her left. She whipped her head in that direction, her eyes straining to pick him out of the shadows. "Just a precaution, princess." The man stated. "Until I can trust you to behave."

"Behave?" She scoffed in disbelief. "I'm not a fucking dog, asshole."

She thrashed her arms and legs—which were also chained—the veins in her neck visible as she fought the restraints. The chains were looped around metal rods that were drilled into the cement floor. Her body was lying on a mattress in the center of the four rods, forcing her body into a starfish position. There was little slack in the chains, allowing her limbs limited movement. Come on, she grunted, her jaw clenched as she tried to force her hand through the small cuff. She hardly felt the pain anymore, having had to deal with countless broken bones and dislocations for years under the Commission. Some of which had come from training scenarios just like this, where the objective was to escape and subdue her captor.

Except this time, the danger was real and she had no idea where she was or how she got here. Not to mention, her captor didn't sound remotely familiar. Why was he doing this? What did he want with her?

"No," he drew out the word, following it with a dark chuckle. "But I could make you my bitch."

"You're the one hiding," she tried to coax him out of the darkness. The closer he got to her, the greater her advantage would be. Her quirk would do all the work, she just needed to help it along. "I'd say you're the bitch in this situation."

The stranger chuckled again.

Slowly, his footsteps drew closer until black combat boots stepped into the beam of moonlight peeking through the boarded up windows ten feet above their heads. He revealed himself inch by inch until she could see all of him standing casually with his hands in his pockets. He wore a tattered, knee-length navy overcoat with large silver cuffs on each sleeve. Underneath was a white shirt and dark blue pants. His hair was black and spiky, a startling contrast to his turquoise irises. She noticed silver helix piercings on both of his ears, as well as a triple nostril piercing.

But what stood out the most to Kazuha was the man's skin. Purple patches of leathery skin covered his lower face, under eyes, neck, and forearms. The gnarled flesh was secured to the healthy skin with surgical staples. His scarred appearance unnerved her, but she couldn't risk taking her eyes off of him now that he was in view.

"Like what you see, doll?" She honestly didn't know how to respond to that, so she kept her mouth shut. The stranger took another step towards her. "You know, you're a hard girl to find."

"You've been looking for me?" Her eyes followed his figure as he paced in a slow around her. He hummed in agreement. "Why?" His boot scuffed against the cement as he came to a sudden stop by her head. He loomed over her, his crystal blue eyes almost glowing.

"You don't remember me?"

Kazuha raked her brain for answers, but nothing came to mind. She definitely would've remembered this guy if they'd met before. His face was pretty unforgettable. Which means she must've crossed paths with him before he received such devastating scars. They weren't fresh wounds, either. Think, think, think.

He must've picked up on her confusion. "What a pity," he tutted in disappointment, shaking his head. He walked until he was at her side and crouched down. "Because I remember you very well... Kazuha."

She stiffened.

No one—absolutely no one—outside of the Hero Commission knew her real name. She hadn't used that name in years. She was told to forget her life before joining, and that included everything that made her her own person. She was given the name Hebi, and was expected to answer to that name only. Keigo was the only person who still called her that. Speaking of...

Where the hell are you, Keigo?

She stared up at him in shock. "How did you-?"

Cerulean eyes burned into maroon as a long, pale finger hovered above her cheek, as if he was debating whether or not to stroke it. "I'm hurt you've forgotten me so easily, doll face." His voice was almost a whisper as he brushed the back of his finger against her skin. The stranger leaned down until their heads were mere millimeters apart. His was breath hit her cheek and smelled strongly of cigarettes and whiskey. "Because I've been dreaming of this moment for fucking years," he purred in her ear.

It took every ounce of willpower in the agent to not laugh manically in this man's face. He'd just damed himself without even knowing. Soon, he'd fall victim to her quirk and there was nothing he could do to stop it...

Whiskey. Her eyes widened. It was fuzzy, but she did remember a tall figure approaching her at the bar as she sat and waited for her date. The man, wearing a mask on the lower half of his face, had ordered a whiskey for himself, and another of whatever she was having. Kazuha had politely refused the drink at first, but gradually accepted the man's offer over the next few minutes of conversation. He was charming, laidback, and openly flirtatious. Keigo had been running late and the stranger was easy on the eyes (from what she could see, anyway.)

"You were there... at the bar."

He booped her nose with a smug smirk. "See? I knew you hadn't forgotten about me."

"But that doesn't explain these." She shook her hands, the chains clanking. The man himself had admitted just moments ago that he'd been plotting this for years. Plural. Why?

"Because you're mine... though lately you haven't acted like it. A brat like you needs a reminder of just who she belongs to." What the fuck is this guy on? She said just as much to him. The black-clad man rose to his feet slowly, his tattered coat swinging behind him on a gentle breeze. "Don't deny it. I saw you with him, Kazuha."

"With who?!" She jerked against the restraints once more. "What the fuck are you talking about!"

"That damn bird," he said in a calm, almost-bored tone. But the fire in his eyes spoke volumes. Whoever this guy is, he wasn't to be taken lightly. And right now, he was pissed. "For years, I've had a front row seat as he touched you, fucked you, cared for you. I heard another man's name on your lips as he pleasured you, made you scream. I watched you fall apart for another, when all this time, you were supposed to be with me."

Kazuha's heart was nearly beating out of her chest now. This perverted asshole just admitted to watching her—stalking her—for years. What else had he seen? What all had he heard? How many intimate moments had he intruded on? What other secrets of her's had he learned through observing her from afar?

"I. Don't. Know. You." She growled through clenched teeth. He loomed over her, his eyes near glowing in the dim light.

"'Will you let me be yours?' Those were your fucking words, sweetheart. Remember?"

That boy, she realized. The boy she'd found in the rain all those years ago. He'd been covered in burns, though they weren't as severe as this man's. In a moment of weakness, she'd introduced herself as Kazuha. The first and last time since she'd developed her quirk that she hadn't felt like a monster.

"That day... in the rain," she exhaled shakily. She'd never been able to get the boy's name. He was pretty tight lipped about that, his past, and how he'd ended up in that alley to begin with. She'd known better than to press a trauma victim for answers, no matter how curious she may have been. The stranger tilted his head in mock curiosity, lifting a brow in a go on fashion. He looked cocky though, satisfied. "That was you?" His smirk from before was now a full-blown grin.

"Bingo."

Kazuha observed the man carefully, looking for any signs of illness. His breathing was fine, not the wet, labored gasps she's used to. He wasn't sweating or coughing, and there were no tremors in his movements. Why is my quirk taking so long?

The blue-eyed man gazed down at her with the same curiosity, his lips still curled in that devilish grin. He tilted his head again, licking his lips. "You seem frustrated," he noted, crouching down to rest his elbows on his knees. "Are things not going to plan?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" He drew the word out with condescension. "You're not waiting for that birdbrain to barge in and steal you away from me?"

Yes, you psycho. "No."

He hummed, nodding his head. "Then you're probably wondering why your quirk hasn't effected me yet." Right again, freak.

"I don't have a quirk."

The man laughed. "Oh, princess." He shook his head. "Did you really think I wouldn't do my research? That I wouldn't take precautions against your quirk?" His pale hand reached out and tapped something on her neck. She hadn't noticed it before, having assumed it was the choker she'd worn to the bar. But around her neck was a thin metal cuff. "This," he leaned forward, "is a quirk-canceling device."

No, she panicked internally. No, no, no, no, no.

"As for your hero," he chuckled huskily. "Well, he won't be a problem." His finger slid down the space between her collarbones, where Keigo's gift used to tickle her. "I destroyed his little feather before we left the bar. We're safe here."

Kazuha went still, all the fight from before suddenly leached from her body. "He's not coming," she breathed, her voice small and melancholy.

"No, doll," the man sighed, running a burnt hand through her dark, silky curls. "It's just us now."

Her amaranth eyes, which he always remembered as sad, could only be described as devastated now. They shimmered with unshed tears, and the man felt his control slipping. The most beautiful things were always the most deadly, and his Kazuha was no different. Finally, after ten long years, they were reunited. He could touch her, feel her, taste her the way he always wanted to, and nothing could stand in the way of his desires any longer. Not now, when she is so close.

A single, silvery tear slipped down her cheek, and her captor couldn't resist any longer.

Kazuha gasped as a warm, wet tongue darted out and followed the trail of her tear up her face. The scarred man released a low moan, dipping his head to rest against her temple as he groaned. "You taste even better than I'd imagined," he whispered in his low, deep voice. His large hand palmed her breast. Kazuha bit her lip, clenching her eyes shut as his touch wandered. "I wonder what the rest of you tastes like."

His dreaded weight that she'd felt pressing in on her more on more suddenly disappeared. She opened her eyes, meeting his heated stare. He held himself above her, his breathing labored. The way he looked at her, with hunger and awe, made her feel important, powerful. Maybe she could use his obsession to her advantage.

She raised a cuffed hand, hovering beside his scarred cheek hesitantly. "What's your name?"

The man moved his head to lay his cheek against her palm. The sensation was odd, part of his skin warm and soft while the other half was a leather-like texture. She tried to disguise her disgust as fear and apprehension, which she also felt.

"They call me Dabi," he answered, pressing her hand further against him with his own. His metal rings and medical staples were a cool contrast to his skin. He was hot to the touch, like a human furnace.

Dabi. She knew that name. He was a villain, and a powerful one at that. He'd murdered a number of people in cold blood, his victims reduced to ash all around the city. Even the Commission believed that his fire quirk rivaled that of Endeavor.

Will that be me? She wondered. Will I be another casualty of his? Another missing persons case to be solved?

She knew Keigo wouldn't give up, that he would do whatever it takes to find her. So she couldn't give up, either. She would get out of this situation by any means necessary... quirk or no quirk.

"Dabi," she forced out his name through gritted teeth. If she wanted to stay alive, she'd have to play along with his games. Feed into his delusions.

"Good girl." He purred in his low voice, leaning down until there was no space left between them. "And this time," he nipped at her bottom lip hungrily. "I'll make sure you never forget who you belong to."

[yayforocs]

felt awkward to tack this on the prev post so i'm,.,,,,,,,,, here

but!! i'm not just gonna like Make An OC and then only ever have one drawing and a small blurb about them and then just never acknowledge them again, no!! i gotta properly doodle and figure things about about the character and Make Them A Proper Character!!! so i doodled more of aron's helsmet :VVV

and then also. wrote about aron's helsmet. to feel out the character and explore around how she and her person interact with and feel about each other :VVVVV

Posting the one-shot under the cut!!!

It had been a good hour and a half of solid work when the redstoner, hunched over a worktable with bits and bobs in hand, realized she didn't have enough redstone to finish what she'd wanted to get done for the day. She bit back an irritated sigh, and opted to check the drawers under her work table. None there, just like there was none in her backup storage on the other side of the room, just like there was none in her inventory. She let the sigh loose as she slumped into her chair, and ran her hand down her face. Her eyes glanced to the project currently taking up her free time: while right now it was a mess of metal and circuitry, one day it was going to be a pair of glider wings. Gods and saints knew she wasn't ever going to get her hands on any elytra or her counterpart's wings, so she knew she'd have to make them on her own if she wanted them. This did mean, however, a visit that she didn't want to bother with, ever, preferably. But she couldn't afford to pay anyone else to make any sort of supply runs for her, and wasn't sure she'd even want to anyway- she felt ripped off last time she'd tried that.

Resigned, she pushed herself up to standing, and started rummaging around in her chests for supplies. Pickaxes, armor, torches, sword, anything she needed for a run. Several minutes later, she stood with a ready inventory in the middle of the room, hands on her hips as she let her eyes wander over everything. ...And keep wandering over everything.

Hels help her, she did not want to go.

But she rolled her eyes at her own stupid procrastination, and looked to the nearest light source- currently her lamp on the desk- and focused. And briefly, inexplicably, she felt traces of warmth on her skin as from the sun, and could swear a faint breeze barely rustled her hair as she caught a slight whiff of something fresh and green and growing. Trees. A forest.

Better put her armor on first, then. Feather falling would only help so much, but better than nothing. And besides, her other's competence in flying would be enough to keep them from crashing too hard, she was confident in that much. She buckled the boots on with a grim smirk.

At least she'd get to have fun with it.

Enchantment on, she again focused on the light, mentally preparing to act fast as soon as she was over. The light, and slowly, everything else in the room, fuzzed into white as she tipped over the precipice of spatial travel, and went into freefall. Her stomach flipped as new surroundings blinked into view, namely open sky, and her hand shot out and grabbed at the green blur in her peripheral.

"Ack-!"

She'd caught hold, and the two spun out.

"What are-?!"

The world somehow righted, and she silently gripped the harness strap she'd managed to nab as they awkwardly stilted through the trees down to the ground. It wasn't as hard of a landing as she'd hoped- they still both stumbled around each other and ended up on their knees at the end of it- but she'd take what she could get.

"What was that for?" her other, Aron, asked, breathless.

She didn't answer, instead looking around at their surroundings. Should be something decent nearby. She set off in a direction.

"Hey, wait wait wait-!" Aron called, jogging to catch up. "Nice to see you, too," she said sarcastically, and was again met with silence. It stuck for a second or two before Aron started again. "Really, though, like- I could feel when you were about to- I can get down to the ground before you do that, probably, just like- can you wait next time, maybe?"

"I know you can," she responded, but otherwise didn't answer.

Aron made a flabbergasted noise. "Then why- we could've both been hurt! Or respawned!"

She just shrugged.

There was the start of a reply behind her, and then it cut off with a sigh.

They walked in silence for a second.

"...So what are you doing?"

"Why d'you need to know?"

"I dunno, it's- I mean, if- I could help you with something."

She'd just tried to- why would- ugh. This was why she didn't like her. Always tried to kiss up to everyone.

Or kiss up to her, at least. Absolutely useless gesture.

"I'm gettin’ materials, if you really have to know. And no, I don't need you to come with. What part of I Tried To Take Us Both Out Of The Sky made you think I'd want help?"

The steps behind her stopped, and she relaxed a little- but then they started up again.

"Well, it's- it's just dangerous in the caves and such by yourself, so... You prob'ly should have help, y'know? Besides, I uh... I was going to get materials, too."

Great.

Perfect.

Wonderful.

...And yet, she had to acknowledge one of Aron's points. Caving was dangerous on your own, particularly when you were still unaccustomed to all of the dangers this world was only too keen to provide. Having a second person... could be useful, she supposed.

She sighed.

"Fine. Anything happens to me, I'm gonna blame you."

“Ok! Um, that- that works, you can do that. Uh… the cave I was gonna go to was over there.” She assumed Aron pointed, and a glance back showed she did, off to the left. “I’d marked it the other day, but I never went in to check it out properly. We could…?”

Well, it’d be quicker than trying to find one on her own. She pivoted, and quietly snerked when Aron just about ran into her.

She heard Aron take in a breath, but didn’t find out if she was going to comment on the pivot or the laugh because she apparently thought better of it and didn't say anything at all.

—-----

Surprisingly, Aron was fairly quiet for the trip to the cave- and even when they arrived, she was still quiet aside from the occasional callout- she needed the coal here, the iron over there would be good, she’ll grab this gravel real quick to try for flint later. It was something she reciprocated, if only for sake of not losing each other.

It was… weird.

And nice.

It almost felt like she was alone, really, but without the worries of having to constantly watch her back. She kept an eye on the front, and Aron faithfully kept up the rear.

At one point, they found a huge dripstone cavern. Even upon first glance it was clear there was a lot of loot to be had- and mobs to clear out. Aron provided a water bucket for a safe decent.

She noticed Aron didn’t use her wings to get down, instead going down the water after her.

She wasn’t sure whether she was insulted or not.

“If you don’t mind me asking, um- what’re you getting materials for?”

And there it was. Asked with the worst timing, as well, because they were reaching the bottom.

So all she answered with was, “Mobs,” and pulled her sword and shield out, to which Aron awkwardly conceded and pulled out her own weapon.

The blessed lack of conversation resumed as they circled out from their drop point, throwing down torches and clearing out what they could.

But no good thing lasts forever, and when no mobs were in sight, Aron brought it up again.

“So- since they’re all gone, what uh- what’re the materials for?”

“I’m makin’ a giant bomb to drop off at your base next time I visit.”

“I- sorry, what?” Aron squeaked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Bein’ facetious. It’s a personal project. Not for you.”

“...Oh.”

Silence, only broken by a faint skeleton’s clatter that was too far off to bother with. She spotted some iron and opened her mouth to call it, but Aron spoke first.

“Oh, hey, uh- there’s some uh- there’s some gold up there.” Aron pointed to a crevice, and they both set off towards it. She’d get the iron after.

“...Um, also, I know you don’t want- me to call you… my name.” Oh hels, this again. “But it’s… kinda weird to just like- ‘hey’ at you, y’know? Um. Is there anything that uh… you’d like to be called?”

Truth be told, this was something that’d stuck with her the last time they’d had this discussion and though, at the time, she gave no answer at all and made sure to be plenty rude about it, she’d mulled it over a bit. Eventually, she did come up with something, though it was a tad on-the-nose.

It was just Aron in reverse. Nora. Simple, but it seemed fitting, all things considered.

But she didn’t want Aron to ever call her that, let alone call her any sort of consistent name ever, so she didn’t say anything about wanting to be called Nora.

“No.”

“Like… not even a nickname, or anything…?”

“Nah. Keep ‘hey’ing me all you want. Or… um- something. Don’t call me anything. No names.” Nora reached the gold first. Aron let her have them, apparently stumped by her answer. Or stunned, either way. “Saw some iron back there,” she said after grabbing the grand total of two pieces of gold ore, and started back towards it without checking if she was being followed. The footsteps behind her told her she didn’t need to. As she walked, she looked to the side- and down. There was a whole other level to the cavern below them, and she was already attempting to take stock of what there was down there. It was really dark, so she couldn’t hardly see anything, but she thought she might could make out some redstone in the wall closer to the top.

Finally.

Clattering bones sounded again suddenly, much closer than they had been before, and she turned just in time to get an arrow to her shoulder. She gasped, hand darting to it as she stumbled back from the hit- and then all air escaped her lungs as she slipped right off the edge and plummeted. Air whistled past her ears as she somehow managed to wriggle herself to face the ground, desperately trying to get her water bucket out despite the fact that she’d never actually had to clutch before and didn’t even know if she could but she was falling too fast and couldn’t wrestle the darn thing out in time and

She jerked as her momentum was suddenly swooped to the side. Nora wheezed, the pull stretching her coveralls tight against her throat, but as they slowed to a stop in the near pitch-black, she decided she did at least prefer that to dying and having to come back again later. Aron settled them against the ground smoothly, making sure Nora was on her feet before clicking her wings back into place.

“Are you-” Groans started filling the cavern. “Right-! Right, shelter first, right yes, um-” Nora screwed her eyes shut as Aron threw a torch down, the light blinding on eyes that had been attempting to adjust. “UhhHH over here!” Aron grabbed at Nora’s wrist, but she jerked it away. Aron halted awkwardly, and glanced up, making eye contact.

Nora couldn’t even come up with anything to say, and upon realizing she didn’t have time to anyways, shouldered past Aron (on her good side, of course) and stalked towards the wall behind her. Probably, hopefully, where Aron had been planning on going anyway. She pulled out a pickaxe and slammed it into the wall, biting back a yelp as it jarred her hurt shoulder. Once her other joined her they made quick work of digging out an alcove and quickly dropping materials in front to block them in. This time, Nora already had her eyes shut when Aron stuck a torch down in the small space. Eyes still closed, she leaned back against the wall, this time wincing, and slid down it, a now emptied hand going back to her shoulder. The arrow was still in it.

“Do you need-”

“I don’t have any potions on me.”

“-Ah. I think I do, um…” Aron started digging in her bag, and after a second, triumphantly pulled out two. “Ah! I do! Um, here, I can-”

“Just give it,” Nora hissed, jerking forwards and snatching one out of Aron’s hand- and Aron flinched back, breath hitching for just a moment. Nora purposefully wasn’t looking at her, and wasn’t watching out of the corner of her eye as she tried to tear the cork out with her teeth, and definitely didn’t notice the solid second it took for Aron’s shoulders to- possibly forcefully- relax.

Except she definitely was and did, and puffed out a breath through her nose at Aron’s reaction. Good. She needed to keep Aron on her toes anyway. Or something like that.

If only the stupid bottle would-

“Um. …here,” Aron said quietly, holding out the other bottle. She’d already pulled the cork out. Nora paused, fixing her eyes on the bottle. After a second, she put the one she’d been wrestling one-handed in her pocket and took the offered one. And then promptly downed it, and before she could second-guess what she was doing, she grabbed the arrow and yanked it out as hard as she could- and it hurt.

But she wasn’t going to cry- not here, not in front of Aron, not while the healing potion was already making her want to scratch her whole shoulder clean off, not while she was gripping it in iron fingers with eyes scrunched and teeth bared and backed against the wall.

And then it was over, and she was fine.

She was fine.

Slowly, she took a breath, and then another, eyes still shut, head tilting back against the wall.

She didn’t want to have to acknowledge literally anything that happened in the past two minutes.

She didn’t want to acknowledge how stupid it had been to walk that close to the edge, didn’t want to acknowledge Aron swooping in, didn’t want to acknowledge the potions, Aron's reaction, none of it. At all.

Aron probably wouldn’t let her not acknowledge it in some form or fashion, but she still had the two of them sit in silence for as long as Aron could stand it.

…Which turned out to be a lot longer than Nora thought it would be. The silence stretched on, slowly becoming thick with awkward air that apparently neither wanted to address.

“Oh.”

Nora glanced up at the hushed statement. Aron was staring at the wall. Nora’s eyes followed the line of sight.

Embedded in the wall right above her head was redstone ore.

“Oh,” she echoed.

They stared at the redstone.

And then with a sigh, Nora pushed herself up, and then pulled her pickaxe out.

It turned out to be a decent-sized vein. Still not as much as she wanted, but at least it was something to work with. She could pull out now if she wanted to.

She glanced back at the torch.

…She didn’t want to have to come back for a while. She took in a breath, and looked over at Aron.

“I need more.”

Aron nodded, and then pushed herself up as well. After a moment, they broke the wall down and began clearing out mobs.

—-----

Too much time passed before Nora blinked back into her home. Aron had tried to say a goodbye once she realized Nora was leaving, though she hadn’t managed to get it out quick enough. But it was enough that Nora could tell what she was trying to say.

She wandered into her workroom, and looked around.

Despite her looking at everything in the room, she wasn’t really seeing it all, almost looking past the room as her mind sat and dwelled.

She really shouldn’t have accepted the help in the first place. She knew it was good that she did, in the end, and she knew she would have been in a lot worse of a spot if she hadn’t, and things would have been a lot more frustrating in different ways, but.

No matter how much she tried.

No matter how much she tried, Aron still tried harder. And it was so frustrating, because it was working.

Everything, everything- from the open lack of hostility despite everything Nora threw at her or didn’t, despite Nora trying to take them both down from the get-go, despite the words and the pushing and the anger- Aron still tried.

And the kicker was that it was genuine. Aron could be a tad idiotic going about it, but the genuine friendly intent was still there.

Nora inhaled for a long second, and then released slowly.

She walked to her desk, and pulled redstone out of her inventory, then paused when something shifted against her leg.

Her hand dug in her pocket, and pulled out the other health potion.

…This was why she didn’t like her.

Because even though she grabbed her mid-flight, she knew they wouldn’t crash.

Because even though she was rude, Aron wanted to help.

Because even though she shouldn’t, Aron wanted a name to call her by.

Because even though the universe pitted them against each other, Aron cared too much to let her fall.

Because even if their positions were swapped, Nora would have done the same.

Because even though Aron startling was good, she still felt guilty about scaring her.

She didn't like her because no matter how hard she tried not to, she did anyway.

Nora stared at the health potion.

She put it down.

She took a breath.

She got to work.

[morroodle]

the birb strikes again!

I dont really have a full story for this funky lil dude but I do have some information about him!

Hes real short and overall just small because flying. Idk the exact height but im thinking around 4ft

He has naturally silent flight like an owl. Very convenient for being a ninja

His leggies get tired pretty quick from standing and walking but he can perch for hours, often even sleeping like that

Speaking of perching: he loves to perch. He will perch on anything and it's actually more comfortable for him than standing on flat surfaces. Favorite things to perch on: rafters, the outer walls of the monastery, the dragon head and sails of the bounty, people

Favorite people to perch on: Zane and Cole. Zane because he's sturdy, balanced and dosent complain about his claws (being made of metal has its perks). Cole because big comfy and barely notices his weight and he never mentions it. Both of them because tall.

He perches on Wu too but that's more an emotional thing than him actually being a good perch. Perching on Wus shoulder makes him feel safe because dad <3

At least Wu and potentially all the ninja have falconry gauntlets that they wear almost all the time. Morros talons are very sharp

Ears move with emotion. Why? Because I said so. Same reason for why the tail looks like that, it's just fun

He absolutely has funky bird instincts

His bed (nest) is a complete mess of blankets and pillows and things he stole and it is very comfy so long as you know where he hid the emergency knives

Goes mama bird mode on Lloyd sometimes. If his baby cousin has a nightmare he takes him to his nest and sleeps on top of him. Gotta keep the chick safe. His wings make good blankets <3

When he's comfortable with the ninja he likes to preen them. He won't admit that's what he's doing but they all know. He's actually really good at styling hair as a result. Hates kais hair gelled abomination with a burning passion

Very rare for him to allow others to preen him though, have to ask first and pretty much only Wu and Lloyd. Sometimes Zane but thats just cause he's good at it

Related note: he likes to look pretty. He puts effort into his appearance and takes very good care of himself, he likes accessories. Pretty bird <3

Don't call him pretty bird. He will kill you

Bird noises. Squawks, chips, coos and screeches. He sings sometimes too but only when he thinks he's alone

NO. TOUCH. TAIL. Or feets.

Will never admit it but he loves ear scritches

That's all I've got right now, I have some parts of a story and some lore but I don't wanna share until I have more. Should note that as of this point he is not a ghost, just a funky bird. I'm not sold on his design colors yet, especially his clothes and hair so that might change soon. Might also draw some versions with different colored feathers just for fun

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Hello!! I just wanted to say that I love your writing 😭😭 if you're still taking requests (your bio and pinned post said different things, I'm very sorry if they're closed!) could I humbly request fluff hcs for King Dice and a cupid type of reader, so it's a more forbidden love with the whole demon/angel pairing? Thank you for taking the time to read this!

A/N: Hough… this was a really fun prompt to work with! Sorry for the wait, Anon! I hope that you enjoy this batch, and if not, don’t feel free to shoot me a message if you’d ever want me to redo it! (; ω ; )

Also, I wasn’t particularly sure if you were going for the shorter/cherub-sized cupid variety, so I sprinkled in a few hcs that included that variety! Again, just shoot me a message if you want me to change anything!

                                             ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

                         “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, angelface?”

                                              ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

King Dice x Cupid! Reader: 

King Dice wasn’t one to believe in fate. Nor did he consider himself a religious man. The irony that a sinner like him managed to net someone as sweet as you– a literal angel– is not at all lost on him. 

Given the Devil’s disdain for Heaven and its residents, King Dice takes great care to make sure your relationship remains a secret from him. While you can never visit him at work, King Dice sneaks out to visit you whenever he can. 

The two of you often meet up in the streets of Inkwell Isle III! He’ll often take you out to café dates or visit the theater house! 

Since he's unable to see you in person as much as he wants to, King Dice makes up for his absence with letters. He'll pay top dollar to ensure his letters arrive safely and discreetly in an unmarked envelope; the wax seal bearing the sign of a crown and the paper holding the faint scent of cologne serving as his calling card.

Said letters are filled with a variety of contents. Some filled with the mundane such as his daily life and plans for the casino. Others filled with a tinge of melancholy as he laments as he can't see you as much. Most of them, however, never forget how grateful he is to have you.

Though Dice would tout himself as a man above such cliches, he has a plethora of angel-related pet names for you: dove, angelcake, cherub, etc. A few others he uses, though a bit more rare, are cheri and mon ange. It’s been a long time since he spoke any creole, but he’ll slip into it when he’s feeling particularly affectionate. Luckily for you, you have a knack for drawing out the sweeter side of him~

Speaking of, you’re probably one of the few people on Inkwell who can draw out a nicer side to Dice. His line of work never allowed for such behavior– lest you want to be taken advantage of.  With you, Dice didn’t feel the need to be on edge; he feels completely safe around you. 

In all of his years of servitude beneath the Devil, King Dice developed an aversion to most flying things. You have to thank the imps for that one, by the way. Their erratic, rowdy behavior was already bad enough. Couple this with their sudden dive bombs and frantic movements, it’s enough to activate his flight or fight response.

However, he can make an exception for you. There’s a delicate air to your wings, the feathers downy soft and small like a baby bird; a far cry from the leathery, vein-filled membrane he’s used to seeing.  It’s enough to stoke the urge to run a finger along the ivory arch of them– if you’d let him that is. 

Please try to take him under your wing– literally. He finds it adorable when you try to keep him cool and comfort him by wrapping your wings around him~

If you’re small and short like the imps of hell, chances are King Dice will consistently tease you for it. He’ll scoop you up and carry you around, even if you shriek in protest; he’ll jokingly offer to dress you up like a porcelain doll; he’ll even call you “baby bird” since you’re so small. 

The height difference is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, King Dice can’t help but feel protective over your smaller stature– not to mention it’s hilarious getting to use you as an elbow rest. On the other hand, it’s a lot harder to kiss you… 

Guess he’ll just have to pick you up~

If you ever want to try and get your way, just bat those baby-doll eyes of yours. King Dice can’t resist and he’s quick to cave. You’re lucky you’re too cute for him to say no. 

                                              ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

[millenniumdueled]

Their Duel begins, and Raphael starts off strong, with powerful monsters to guard him against everything the Other Yugi tries to throw at him. Even the attack that had defeated the god Obelisk is useless against Raphael. And like before, Raphael seems to be willing to do anything to keep his Guardians from the Graveyard, even at the cost of his own Lifepoints.

Would a man like that really play the Seal?

Other Yugi tries to remind Raphael of his bond with his Guardians, to make him look at himself and the respect he shows his monsters.

But it's no use. His words never seem to get through to the man.

"I'm willing to accept the darkness in my heart. That's what makes us different, Nameless Pharaoh," he says flatly, staring down at the cards in his hand with a neutral, tight-lipped expression. "Unlike you, I'm willing to make it a part of myself, to fulfil my destiny until the time of my own sacrifice."

On the street far below, Yugi's friends stop in their tracks outside the Paradias headquarters. Téa gasps, her heart sinks as a pillar of teal light illuminates the rooftop that towers over their group.

Are they too late?

They all race into the building, across the lobby to fill the elvator. It ascends achingly slow, every second filled with trepidation. Tristan shifts the unconscious Joey on his back. Kaiba taps his foot.

When the doors finally opens and they all spill out onto the roof, it's to a dismal scene. Their friend standing at only 500 Lifepoints, facing a powerful Guardian Eatos with black feathered wings and 7000 Attack.

"That's the monster that beat him last time--" Tristan gasps.

But this time, Other Yugi has a plan. He's able to force Raphael's turn to end, to buy himself some time.

But is that all he can do? Stall?

He glances at the group of his friends cheering for him now.

Another turn comes and goes, before Other Yugi finally pulls the Eye of Timaeus. Yes!! It fuses with Yugi's beloved Dark Magician to create a dragon with an effect to make it powerful enough to destroy Raphael's Guardian.

Will this finally make him see?

Watching his beloved Guardian fall?

A storm of black feathers swirls across the field. When they settle, Raphael has steeled himself once again. He stands with his fists clenched, his jaw set, his shoulders tight. As he shakes with rage, he sets a cutting, red-eyed glare at the Other Yugi.

The Seal pulsates. Throbbing like the pulse in Raphael's ears.

Other Yugi feels his blood run cold.

"You sent my Guardian Eatos to the grave...." Raphael's voice shakes with resentment.

The rooftop seems to crack open, a black mist errupting from the crevice. A rotting hand, bound in dirty bandages reaches up from the depths of hell.

"But you can never kill it. Their corpse will take revenge."

The monster that climbs to the field stinks of decay, red eyes glowing behind a white mask and a mess of long, matted hair. It reaches out one of those rotting hands, and a massive, black scythe appears.

In order for the zombie to attack, Raphael has to sacrifice all of his other monsters on the field. He sends them all to the grave without a hint of hesitation.

"How could you," Other Yugi gasps. "After all you did to keep them alive--"

There's nothing he can do as the undead Guardian Dreadscythe destroys his Amulet Dragon. Other Yugi's Lifepoints drop to 300.

He can't give up now. Even without his powerful dragon, the Pharaoh swears to see this through.

But his heart aches for his enemy.

And all he can seem to do is stall.

Even after returning the Eye of Timaeus to his hand to play again, he can't destroy Dreadscythe. He lets out a frustrated scream as his dragon is destroyed again, leaving him with a measly 10 Lifepoints.

"Why are you just drawing out the inevitable? What makes you think you can escape your destiny?"

Other Yugi is quiet as he draws for his next turn. He looks at the card he's just pulled for a moment, and his expression softens. "Why are you so sure you can't?"

"It hurt, didn't it? When you sent all of your precious Guardians to the Graveyard, your heart was screaming. Wasn't it?"

Raphael falls silent, narrowing his red eyes at his opponent.

"My Partner helped me see how important it is to understand the burdens of my enemies. To feel their pain.... You've accepted the darkness inside yourself, but that Seal is keeping you from accepting the sorrow you feel too. So, I'll remind you."

The card he plays next lets him take Monster Reborn from his opponent's Graveyard. But this time, it isn't his own monster he revives.

White feathers rain from the sky as Eatos rises again, on Other Yugi's side of the field now.

But Other Yugi isn't done.

He still has one card in his hand, and as he looks at it now, a little smile crosses his lips. He glances behind him, to the unconscious form of his best friend, still held on Tristan's back, and plays the Claw of Hermos. The Goddess Bow that it creates raises Eatos's Attack, matching that of the Dreadscythe.

The zombie's effect prevents it from being destroyed, at the cost of one card in Raphael's hand. But the Bow's effect allows Eatos to attack again whenever that effect activates, over and over, until Raphael has nothing left to discard, and the two Guardians go down together.

Raphael falls to his knees as he calls Eatos's name.

A hush settles over the battlefield.

"I knew you'd call for Eatos. And not that thing," Other Yugi says, after a moment. "You called out for the light, you changed your heart. You can change your destiny--"

"I said it's too late for that." Raphael takes a deep breath. He doesn't bother to stand again. When he looks up from the card he's just drawn, that pointed malice in his eyes has once again turned to sorrow. "The Seal of Orichalcos will take the loser's soul. You still can't change that."

He plays Soul Charge, instantly bringing back every monster in his Graveyard... except for Dreadscythe. The resurrected monsters can't attack this turn, but it doesn't matter. Every one that takes the field drains 500 Lifepoints from Raphael.

They hit 0 as Eatos takes their place on his field, and the Seal closes in around him.

But as the Other Yugi swallows down the bittersweet taste of this victory, his eyes go wide.

Though the light of the Seal fades, Raphael doesn't. The man blinks in confusion, reaches for the turquoise stone around his neck, only for it to crack and shatter in his hand.

There's little time to assess what just happened, however, as the building begins to shake.

"Run," Raphael orders. "This building is set to collapse when our Duel ended."

Though the others immediately turn to run for Kaiba's waiting helicopter, the Other Yugi hangs back, trying to pull a man twice his size to his feet. "I'm not leaving you, Raphael. Get up," he urges, but the Duel had taken its toll on him. Though the Seal had left his soul, it had seemed to sap all of Raphael's energy as it faded.

He tries to stumble along, to support himself and follow, and the Other Yugi does his best to support him. But as pieces of the rooftop crumble around them, it's clear they can't both make it in time.

Raphael slips something into the Other Yugi's hand as he makes up his mind. Takes a deep breath and summons every trace of strength he has left to scoop up the much smaller man and toss him onto the open ramp of the helicopter that hovers at the building's edge. But there isn't time for him.

As the others help pull him safely inside, the Other Yugi screams for Raphael as the facade of Doma's corporate empire crumbles to dust.

[littlefreya]

@captainsy-cookiemonster, my dear! 💖😍 Once again, I would like to wish you a very happy birthday.

Nothing like a weekend celebration, aye? :) I hope you that are having a really good one today and that the rest of the week will be amazeballs!!!

So now, with no further ado...

Not from this Earth.

Mike x OFC named Lisa x.... 👀

No smut.

Not beta'd. :D All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

"I love it when they turn on the heat in places like this," Mike proclaimed as he gazed around him.

Snow at this time of the year was anything but normal but thanks to the crowdedness and the heating system, it was so hot inside the club that some of the women were down to their bras.

Mike was on the hunt tonight. Standing near the DJ's stage with his older brother, he scanned his surrounding with boyish excitement, every time a woman made eye contact with him he immediately quirked an eyebrow and winked which resulted with 'the victim' rolling her eyes and turning away.

"Smooth, really smooth," Will snorted. "I don't know who you got your manners from, but it sure ain't from me, little brother."

"You know that attitude never gets you laid, right?" Mike retorted playfully.

It was Will's turn to roll his eyes now. While he was solely a couple of years older than Mike, Will was always considered 'the mature one'. Having their father leave as toddlers, the young man tried to compensate while Mike was what you can call a loss cannon. Though, Will always knew that Mike just needed to meet the right woman to set him on the right path.

Too bad, it didn't seem like she was anywhere in this sleazy club tonight.

"How about you make yourself useful? Got get us another round of beer." Will suggested and pulled out his credit card.

A slanted smirk peaked one of Mike's cheeks, creating a large dimple that even Will found irresistible. Immediately snatching the card, he nodded but not before fishing something from his leather jacket's pocket, "here, just in case you do find a girl in my absence."

Will blinked at his open palm and then sighed again.

A condom. He gave him a god-damn condom.

The path to the bar was packed with a dancing crowd. People dressed as demons and beasts ground into one another while the lights above them flickered in red and blue.

Mike stood listless, waiting to be noticed by the bartender, when something called for his attention.

Out from a thick mist, amid the devils and monsters, appeared an angel. Not a literal one, at least, he didn't think she was, but she sure looked that way.

Dark long hair spilt down her shoulders, and her big almond-shaped forest-green eyes looked like they could devour a man in their dark wilderness. A fluffy white halo hung over her head, and from her back spread large white-feathered wings that framed her small figure like something out of a fairytale.

"I'm in love..." he murmured to himself and then swallowed the lump in his throat as a sudden dryness stuck him.

Just then, the little angel made eye contact. She smiled at him, noticing his obvious stare, her hand lifted up coyly to brush a strand of hair that fell to hide her face before she looked away.

Sure, Mike had seen his share of beautiful women, but there was something about her, almost as if she wasn't from this realm.

Completely forgetting why he even came to the bar, Mike slid from the counter and fixed his leather jacket, his heart pounding as he made his way toward her.

The scent of lilies filled the air, and he could have sworn it emanated from her... the closer he got, the stronger the scent became, and she only seemed more and more beautiful as he could catch a better glimpse of her features.

A few more steps and he could talk to her... his mind raced, trying to come up with what to say first. There was no way in hell he could say something corny, not to a girl like this, not with that sweet smile she gave him as she saw him drawing near.

She bit her lip, holding her fingers laced together and dropping her gaze to the floor for a shy second, but as she raised her eyes to peer at him again, her joy suddenly faded, and concern filled her eyes.

Mike halted, looking at her confused when a stern hand fell on his shoulders and squeezed hard enough to hurt.

"Hey, what's your story?!"

At first, he thought it was his brother, but as Mike turned to look at the man who interrupted him, a sudden sense of dread chilled his bones.

Pale blue eyes peered back at him in a glare that couldn't be confused with anything other than a threat. He was slightly taller than him, though had the confidence and looks that could make even the strongest man whimper and above his lips stood a thick moustache that made him look even more attractive and menacing than he was.

Mike wrangled his shoulder free from his grip and took a step back, staring at the bewhiskered man. He was wearing a suit... who the hell wears a suit to a shitty club like this?

"She's mine, kid." The man finally spoke, his smooth baritone leaving no place to doubt. His gruff chick twitched into what appeared like an unpleasant smirk before he wiped his hand clean on his sleeve and walked toward the Angel.

Mike followed them with his eyes, watching the large man as he offered her his below in an old-timey mannerism. The coyness and sweetness faded from her smile, now replaced by submission and what Mike could only interpret as servitude.

The bewhiskered gentleman pinched her chin gently and then began leading her away while Mike stood watching, his heart breaking with the distance growing between them.

But just before they vanished from his sight, she turned her head to look at him, and he could have sworn he heard her voice echoing in his mind.

"Lisa, my name is Lisa. Come rescue me when you wake up."