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wri0thesley · 1 year

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home - hawks x reader (6.7k)

you miss him when he's not here.

cw: not sfw. reader is afab but no gendered language is used. chubby reader, insecurities mentioned. established relationship. possessive hawks. blood, injury (mild). cunnilingus, scratching, biting, multiple orgasms.

this was a commissioned work.

There are drawbacks to being a Pro Hero’s partner.

Oh, there are some positives, too - the nice things that you get sent, sometimes, in the hopes that you’ll post them on social media and the business in question will get some extra footfall from being papped on the significant other of the more popular Pro Heroes (putting aside the occasional frustration of paparazzi always tailing you, the free clothes and free tech and free gear and free meals are very nice). The fact that Keigo has a sizable fortune that he mainly uses to make sure that you and he have the best life he can provide. The swell of pride that rises in your chest when you think about him, and all of the lives he has saved, all of the people who are grateful for him.

The sunshine in Keigo’s face, too, when a small child tells him how much they look up to him - how they want to be just like him. The money that is funneled back by Keigo into charitable institutions for children. The fact that you’re doing a small part of good in the world despite your reasonably useless quirk (making flowers bloom at a touch is only useful when the flowers are not yet in season, after all - it’s a quirk that you can use maybe three months out of the year, and you’ve noticed flowers don’t seem to last any longer just because you’ve grazed them with your fingertips) by making Keigo happy, the way he deserves to be.

But there are plenty of negatives.

Those same paparazzi who sell photographs of you and Keigo to gossip magazines and comment on your appearance, your hair if it’s messy, your figure that you’re already not all that confident in. The online gossip-mongers who spend their time bemoaning how much of a better fit they’d be for a man like Keigo, if he’d just stop ‘pitying’ you enough to date you.

The nights you spend stroking Keigo’s hair as he buries his head in your neck and all of the ugliest parts of his job fall out of his mouth; the fear of being a pawn for the HPSC for the rest of his life, the things he’s asked to do that remain secret except in whispered gasps into your ear, his hands clinging to you so tightly you think about talons puncturing your skin. The long, long nights when he’s out doing hero work and you fear that he may never come back to you. The way time stretches interminably on when he says he’ll be gone for a little while and you don’t know if it will be days or weeks or months.

You wouldn’t trade anything for him. Keigo makes you feel seen and beautiful and loved and cherished in a way no other person could ever compare to. You get butterflies when he smiles at you. You cannot imagine a life in which you did not find each other, somehow.

But tonight, your bed in Keigo’s penthouse (big glass windows, so he can feel like he’s flying - a huge bed, with room for his wings) is empty and cold. You wear a too-big ‘Hawks’s Baby Bird’ nightshirt that falls down to your knees, a gag gift from one of your friends who is a member of your boyfriend’s fan club. The little cartoon depiction of him is not enough to make you feel as though he is there with you.

Tonight feels like one of those nights that might last forever.

You roll over in the bed uncomfortably, legs tangling in cool sheets that you wish were warmed by your partner. The space seems to stretch on for an eternity without Keigo’s wings there for you to good-naturedly grouse about as he laughs and pulls you in even closer.

You think not hearing anything might be the worst.

You know what he does is important, you know that he doesn’t always tell you where he’s going because he’s worried about you - you know that being shrouded in secrecy is better for both of you. But not knowing where he is or who he’s with or what he’s doing makes all kinds of worrying scenarios play out in your head as you wonder if you’ll ever see him again, or if the last time you kissed him on the cheek and told him to be careful (and he looked at you with all of the love in the world lighting his gold eyes, his gaze saying far more than his easy laugh and his promise he would come back) would be the last time.

Ugh. You flop onto your back and stare up at the ceiling.

Maybe you should try making yourself a hot drink; distract yourself from the thoughts swirling around your mind and the loneliness that’s eating at your edges. That sounds nice. You swing your legs over the side of the comically oversized mattress, the soft hem of your nightshirt riding high on your thighs - and then you hear a familiar sound, and your heart feels like it swells to double its size in your chest.

You quickly walk from the bedroom into the lounge, following the sound of beating wings and displaced air and something clinking against glass. There, on the balcony outside, stands Keigo - still in his hero costume, red wings in the process of being tucked behind him, keys tinkling in his hand.

Through the window, he catches sight of you - and his smile is so wide it could split his face in two, eyes crinkling at the edges. He fumbles even quicker with the keys, eager to get inside and back to you - and you walk across the room, your feet warm on the cold tiled floor, to meet him.

Up close, you can see that the night has not been kind to him.

Despite the smile that lights up his eyes and transforms his face, there are grazes all over his face; a rip in his hero costume at the sleeve, where he’s bleeding a little. His wings seem fine, but high on the left wing the feathers are bent out of shape and uneven as if he narrowly avoided trapping it somewhere. Your stomach drops somewhere in the region of your feet - and then, Keigo is through the window and it’s clinking closed behind him and you are embraced by all of him, all red feathers and fur jacket and arms wrapping so tightly around you that you can barely breathe.

“Keigo,” your voice comes out in a choked squeak. “Keigo, you’re hurt--!”

“I’m so glad to see you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, his normally light tone heavy with emotion. “I missed you so so much. I . . . I thought I might not see you ever again--”

His gloved hands cling to your generous hips, squishing into the soft flesh there, dragging you against him. He noses against your neck, breathing in your scent, as if he’s trying to reassure himself that you’re real and true and there.

“Let me look at your injuries--” You try to say, but Keigo instead pulls you into a searing kiss that makes your knees feel weak. Despite his relatively small stature - compared to most other Pros, anyway - he trains long and hard, and he pulls you into him as if you weigh nothing at all, the softness of your curves and pudge not presenting the smallest of problems. His mouth is hot and beseeching against yours; this is a kiss that says ‘I am alive, and I thought I wouldn’t be’. Fear is still rolling hot through your stomach, but it’s hard not to melt into him when he knows every spot of your mouth and every nerve of your lips as well as he knows his own. His teeth nip needily at your lower lip and you open your mouth for him - let his tongue mark you out as his, sliding across that spot behind your front teeth that makes you full-body shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t seem to matter to him that the two of you are in full view of the windows (not that any paparazzi would be fool enough to try and photograph from here, after the last time) - all that matters is that the two of you are entwined, that Keigo is there and you are there. His hands slide down your hips to knead at the soft globes of your ass, a motion that’s meant to be teasing but instead simply feels desperate.

You break apart from him with a gasp, your heart beating frantically against your ribcage.

“Keigo,” you say, hoping you sound more sure of yourself than you feel. “I need to clean your w-wounds.”

He looks at you all half-lidded and wanting, his mouth swollen from the kiss - actually, you don’t think his gaze has strayed from you once since he first laid eyes on you.

“I needed to kiss you,” he says to you, and he cracks a small smile that doesn’t quite mask the wildness in his eyes. “I needed to remember exactly what you were like. Remind myself you were mine, birdie.”

“The kiss could have waited,” you say, exhaling in a way that’s part laugh and part exhaustion. “You’re hurt.”

One gloved hand raises to your face; his thumb strokes over your cheek. The smile on his face is so sad and so wanting that it makes you ache.

“I could never wait to kiss you,” he says. “Not a second longer than I have to.”

You tug gently on his sleeve; there’s dirt all over the tan fabric. You wonder what happened to him on this mission, but you don’t ask - Keigo never wants you to have to worry about things. He keeps you as safe as he can - makes sure you can work from home, insists that if he can’t go shopping with you groceries are delivered . . . on another person, it might be suffocating. But on Keigo . . .

He hasn’t told you much about his life pre-Wing Hero: Hawks. Still, he has told you more than almost anybody else in the whole world knows, and you understand why he clings to the vestiges of a home he’s managed to build around himself. It’s hard not to be flattered that he considers you home - and you, in return, feel exactly the same way about him.

“Come on,” you say to him, a little more forcefully this time, and you give him a gentle smile so he doesn’t feel like he’s worrying you too much. “Let me clean these scratches and get your uniform off, and I promise you can kiss me as much as you like for as long as you like.”

He lets out a soft laugh but lets himself be tugged across the room anyway.

“My uniform off?” He asks, lightly teasing, the edge of desperation slowly ebbing away now that he is with you and knows you are safe. “Why, birdie, you’ve only gotta ask! Little forward, but I’m not gonna complain--”

You roll your eyes at him, but laugh all the same, as the two of you enter the kitchen and you bully him lovingly into taking a seat on one of the stools by the long breakfast bar. You reach up onto your toes to reach the first-aid kit kept in one of the high kitchen cupboards, feeling the hem of your shirt rise up to reveal the thin red satin underwear you wore to bed--

“Are those Hawks brand, too?” Keigo asks. You can’t see him, but you can just imagine the shit-eating grin that’s painted itself over his face. “Look, I know you want me to stay still whilst you tend lovingly to me, but you’re making this really difficult--”

“Shh,” you tell him, turning around with the little metal tin tucked beneath your arm. “You’re just trying to get out of the antiseptic swabbing, aren’t you?”

It takes you by surprise how quickly he’s shed his garments. You suppose that speed is his greatest asset, but still - you’d heard only a little rustling, and yet Keigo is suddenly sat behind you totally shirtless with his uniform discarded on the stool beside him. You can see almost all of him; the lean muscles of his pectorals, dotted with old scars - the corded forearms, the surprisingly strong hands . . .

You’re grateful to see that the wounds and scratches are only surface-level. They’ll need cleaning and bandaging up a little, but that’s all - he’s not at risk of any infections, doesn’t need to go see any healers or hospital workers. You’re glad - you don’t want him to be out of your sight for any longer than he has to be now that you finally have him back for a while.

You cough as you rifle through the medical kit for anti-bacterial wipes, feeling your face heat up at his proximity and his nakedness. Keigo laughs softly, angling his body closer to you.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he says to you, his voice low and soft. “C’mon. See something you like?”

“Could you stop flirting for one second?” You ask him, as you wipe over one of the nasty grazes on his arm - you don’t think you could look into those golden eyes right now without falling into them like molten pools. “I need to get this cleaned up.”

“You’d be flirting if the prettiest thing in the whole world was touching your naked body,” Keigo says to you, reasonably; and he laughs again when you fumble with the bandage you’re trying to affix to the spot in question. “C’mon. You’re even wearing my merch! How’m I supposed to just sit here and let you look after me when I’m thinking about pinning you to the breakfast bar and having my wicked way with you, huh?”

“Have your wicked way with me when I’m done,” you tell him, and now you have no choice but to turn your hand to the grazes on his cheek - and looking at Keigo’s pretty face takes your breath away in the same way it always does. His eyes are liquid gold, burning you as you gently wipe the blood from his sharp cheekbones. At the touch of your fingers on his face, he takes a sharp intake of breath - and one strong hand lands on the outside of your thigh, thumb pressing softly into the skin there. Your own breath stutters in your chest.

There’s a bloom of heat low in your core, to be looked at like that. Possession and adoration and hunger all mixed up in his gaze, your own body screaming at you that Keigo wants you and you want him and everything else should be thrown to the wayside in pursuit of the pleasure the two of you are clearly longing for.

He breathes out after a moment that feels like it lasts a week, and his voice has dropped a semitone into something rich and low and starving hungry.

“You’re nearly done now, right?” He asks, swallowing, the bob in his throat visible. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stop myself.”

You do not break eye contact as you drop the gauze, as you close the lid of the first-aid kit.

“I’d think a Pro Hero would have more control,” you say to him breathily. “Stop yourself from doing what, exactly?”

He smiles up at you with a wickedness that makes you weak at the knees, and you feel all of your concern about his grazes and bruises and the feathers that have been bent and ruffled in his wings melt away in favour of the persistent pounding in your core.

He moves lightning-fast; utterly deserving of all of his accolades, and before you know it you’re pressed against the breakfast bar, your ass pressed flush against the rim of the surface, and Keigo has dropped down onto his knees.

“Stop myself from eating you all up, birdie,” he says, with a grin bright and hungry, as he presses his nose softly against the plumpness of your thighs. “You’re looking delicious, and I’m starving after being away for so long. Won’t you let a guy have a taste?”

You gasp as he moves his face; as his nose nudges at your mound through the Hawks branded underwear. He breathes in deeply, savouring the scent of you on the air.

“I can tell you want it too,” he teases you. “I can smell you from here. That’s how I know how delicious you’re going to be.”

“Keigo,” you breathe out lightly, but there is no complaint in your tone. Your boyfriend takes this the way it is; your consent for him to do whatever he wants to you, and his smile is knife-sharp in the darkness as his fingers hook into the elastic of the underwear and slowly begin to edge them down your legs.

“Spread for me, angel,” Keigo murmurs, dropping a kiss just above your knee, peppering the skin he can currently get to with more feather soft touches of his lips. “Show me how much you want it. Let me see you; I’ve missed you. Feels like a century when I don’t see you for a day.”

You fall over yourself to please him. You’ve missed him just as much; too deeply for you to care if you seem desperate, when you spread your legs further and let him see the wet mess between your legs. Keigo’s eyes go half-lidded and wanting as he trails the pad of one of his fingers up your thigh to dip between the lips of your sex and into your slick.

“Look at you, pretty birdie,” he says, low and awestruck. “This is all for me? Aren’t I the lucky one? Aren’t you just the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen?”

Your face heats up at the compliments; Keigo is never shy about giving them, of course, but when the position is so intimate and he looks so fascinated it’s hard not to feel woozy with the want that drips off every syllable. Keigo moves his face closer; kisses at the plump spill of your very inner thighs, where they’re damp with your own arousal. Teeth bite into the flesh gently, nipping at you until you gasp.

“Y-you were being serious about eating me up, then?” You ask, a huff of laughter on your lips, as Keigo shifts his attentions to the other thigh, sucking love bites into the soft flesh.

“Just making sure you know you’re mine,” he says, breathless. “Marking you up so you know who you belong to. After I’ve eaten you up, I’ll get on to eatin’ you out--”

He kisses over your sex this time; his breath fanning hot against your most sensitive parts. Your knees almost buckle, and you have to cling to the rim of the breakfast bar to stop yourself from just falling onto him completely. You feel a couple of well-placed breaths away from collapsing onto the floor.

“Is that a . . . a promise?” You ask him, and Keigo chuckles and the vibrations seem to travel from between your legs and right up your spine.

“For you?” He murmurs, and his tongue darts out - laps up your cunt from perineum to clit, and you swear you see stars. “Of course it is.”

Once Keigo has had a taste of you, there’s nothing you can do. You know it from past experience sprawled out on the bed beneath him as he works you over until you’re putty in his hands - when he wants someone, when he wants something, when something is his and it’s his responsibility . . . he will not rest until he’s wrung several orgasms out of you and you can barely move. The kitchen is a brand new development for this kind of thing, but Keigo is more than a little possessive and when you’ve murmured in the heat of the moment about christening every surface in his apartment it’s always gotten him going--

So it’s all you can do, really, to let him eat you out like he’s a man starved and he’s having his final meal before his untimely end.

To let your fingers curl around the rim and to give yourself into Keigo’s mouth as it hotly works you over; his tongue dragging through your folds as if he’s trying to drink you in. Your own mouth falls open as your breath escapes you in little surprised gasps; it seems that for every slow lap of his tongue, he manages to do some kind of swirling trick of athletics that makes you feel like you’re melting into a pleasured mess.

In between the licks and the sucks, he turns his attention back to the soft fullness of your thighs; drops little growling interludes of;

‘Mine’. ‘So beautiful’. ‘So good’. ‘You’re mine’. ‘Mine, mine, mine’.

Kisses and bites and licks and mumbles, the soft abrasive scratch of his scruff making you dizzy and light-headed as you feel all of the pleasure that he brings you work itself into tight knots in your stomach. Sometimes he bites just a little too hard, as if he wants to ensure that the mark takes - and though on another partner, you might push him away, with Keigo it’s hard to not just let your lashes flutter and a soft moan escape at the thought of just how much he wants you to be his.

There’s something to be said about having the mark of ownership of a man like Keigo upon your skin.

He rubs his cheeks against your thighs, uncaring of how your slick is fair dripping from your sex; covering himself in your scent the same way he tries to cover you in his own. You’ve heard him complain when you switch shower gels or perfumes or shampoos; you know he can’t get enough of the natural scent of you. He never cares about cuddling up to you when you feel sweaty or gross - in fact, a couple of times, you’ve thought that it really gets him going--

It’s getting much harder to think the longer Keigo uses his mouth on you.

It’s hard to think of anything other than the sensation of his tongue, the prickling pleasant heat that’s running through your veins, the groans of pleasure that he keeps putting forth with every new lap and suck and kiss of your clit. Your fingers twitch, your thighs shaking wildly, as you hover on the precipice of your orgasm.

“That’s right, beautiful,” he murmurs softly. “Come on. Come for me.”

There’s no question of doing anything but.

Your entire body goes taut all over, like a string waiting to be plucked - and then snaps, as your orgasm washes over you in fierce waves, making your body tingle like fireworks are being set off beneath your skin. You don’t try to muffle your noises - Keigo had coached that out of you with kisses and begging and telling you how much he loves hearing you - so soft whimpers and moans come issuing forth from your mouth, bouncing against the kitchen walls. Keigo makes his own noise in response; a coaxing kind of reassurance that you can let yourself go with him, you’re safe. His mouth is still pressed against your sex, though, his tongue still drinking in the slick you’re pumping out with every clench and pulse of your release.

He stays there even as the orgasm slowly subsides and feeling returns to your extremities. You’re sensitive, your thighs shaking - and Keigo chuckles, pulling back and looking up at you with his eyes all blown with adoration.

“I’ve missed the way you taste,” he tells you, tone teasing. “I’ve missed the way you sound, too. I’ve missed . . . all of that.”

“I’ve missed you more,” you say to him breathlessly. “A-are you going to let me repay the favour?”

Keigo laughs again, and the sound makes happiness bloom in your chest.

“No,” he says, sounding very sure of himself. “I’m not done with you yet, birdie. I need to make sure that every perfect inch of you remembers me; I need to make sure that you’re always with me, that you’re imprinted onto every part of me, that you know just how much I love you and I need you and that I can remember every part of you with my eyes closed--”

Your cheeks are hot at this profession of adoration. It’s not that Keigo is shy about these things - he said ‘I love you’ before you did - but . . . he’s not always prone to these big, grand gestures. He holds your hands and pulls you close and keeps you next to him, plays with your hair and remembers your favourites and checks in on you to make sure everything is alright as often as he can. Love story confessions are not his style--

And that’s how you know that he means every single syllable.

“Th-that’s not fair,” you say weakly, as Keigo takes your hand and tugs you through the apartment instead, a mirror of you taking him into the kitchen to clean his wounds. “I want to do all that for you too--!”

“Ah, but you didn’t get to saying it before me, did you?” He shoots you a broad grin, pulling you into the bedroom. The sheets on your huge bed are still rumpled; he raises one eyebrow. “Not sleep well without me, birdie?”

“You know I never do,” you whisper, and his face goes impossibly soft. He pulls you closer to him, pressing his nose against your own so that the two of you are staring directly into one another’s eyes.

“I love you,” he says, plain and simple. His hands go to touch your hips, to slide up to your waist and to your chest, his touch reverent like a sculptor and his masterpiece. “I love everything about you. If it were up to me, I’d spend every waking minute with you - I’d never let you leave our bed. We’d have everything we need. I . . .” He swallows. “I want to be with you forever.”

“I want to be with you forever, too,” you breathe out - you bring your hand up to stroke over his shoulders, to delicately curve over the musculature in his back to where his wings stand proudly out. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure at the soft touch of your fingers on the downy feathers at the base, his cheeks going pink.

“Then let me take care of you,” Keigo murmurs, softly. “Let me come inside of you so many times you don’t remember what it feels like to have anything inside of you but me.” He takes a shuddering breath - and despite your earlier orgasm, your breath catches and your pulse beats between your thighs as if it’s agreeing that he can do whatever he wants with you. “Please.”

“Keigo--”

“Say I can, birdie.”

His touch gets desperate. His thumbs dig into the soft meat of your waist, the plump pudge there. You make the mistake of flickering your eyes away from his gaze, to between you and below your eye line, to see the way that his cock is tenting the front of his pants in need. You think about Keigo’s cock - about how it feels inside of you, about how perfectly it fills you up, about the sensation of having him come inside and keep going, keep pumping himself into you--

“Keigo,” you breathe, eyes flicking back up to him. “Of course you can.”

As much as you want to get on your knees for him and bring him the same pleasure he’s already brought you today, you can tell that this means a lot to Keigo - and so you’re not surprised when he groans out loud and pulls you back into a fierce kiss. Your lips are nibbled on, your tongue danced with, your entire body dragged into a kiss that Keigo puts every muscle into - until he pulls back, breathless.

“Can we get this off you now?” He asks, tugging at your nightshirt. “Kind of weird to be looking at myself right now, even if I do look very cute as a cartoon--”

You laugh as you pull the dark red cotton over your head. You have a brief moment of doubt - that same flash that comes across you every time you fully disrobe in front of Keigo, a voice in your head saying that you’re not good enough or pretty enough for him - but it’s a doubt that Keigo quickly dispels as he pushes you back onto the bed and begins to pepper every inch of your newly exposed skin with bites and kisses.

“I love these,” he murmurs, palming at your chest with rough calloused hands, plucking your nipples between thumb and forefinger until they stand to stiff attention. “They’re so pretty.” A pinch, and you whine, back arching. “And so sensitive--!”

His tongue follows the path of his fingers, swirling around the nipple and sucking on it with a soft pop until you’re whining even louder, spreading your thighs apart for him in a silent plea to get on with it.

“You’re being needy,” he tells you, with a bite to the swell of your breast that you can tell will leave a bruise. “And I love it. Ask me nicely, pretty birdie--”

“Please fuck me, Keigo,” you say, breathless with need and want and the dizzying desire to have him inside of you. “Please, I want you inside of me--”

He kisses you fiercely again; fabric is displaced lower down his body as he works his trousers off without for a moment breaking the contact of your two lips. His cock slaps against the roundness of your tummy, leaving wet precome in a smear over your navel - hard and long, stiff and aching to find anchor in your port.

“You have no idea what hearing you say that does to me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “Spread wider, angel, alright?”

You obey him, spreading your thighs so wide that it’s almost painful.

The two of you have had to experiment with positions many times - Keigo’s wings provide an interesting challenge for ensuring that both of you are comfortable. Even now, in this simplest of positions, his wings make a canopy over you and give a soft red-warm glow to everything beneath them. Keigo smiles at you so softly that it feels like melting, and then his cock is nudging the lips of your sex apart and slowly slowly slowly sinking inside of you.

It’s gratifying, to finally be full. His tongue felt good, but there’s a kind of intimacy in this that it can’t replicate - a feeling that the two of you are melding together, hearts beating as one. Keigo’s eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping his pretty mouth.

“You have no idea how you feel,” he chokes out. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you--”

“You feel like home,” you say to Keigo, and he whines and sheathes himself fully inside of you.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up so you’re not just laid directly on the bed. His nails - fingers a little sharp, like talons - rake down your back, scratching into you, as he gets used to feel of you hot and tight and wet around him. The two of you are both panting, your own arms wrapping around his neck so you’re as close to him as you can possibly be.

He crashes his lips against yours at the same time as he begins to move his hips in hungry little circles. He isn’t yet fucking in and out of you in wild abandon, but this is still overwhelming after being without him for a few nights and forgetting all of the places inside of you that are stoked like a brand new fire by his cock, stretching you out. You move your hips against him in tiny increments, his abdomen rubbing against your swollen clit in a way that sends pleasant little frissons of electricity up and down your spine.

The electric mixes with the scratches of Keigo’s hands, an overwhelming symphony of sensation that is at once too much and not enough. You lose track of time - you lose track of anything but the feel of Keigo inside of you, the pleasure of being stretched and fucked and taken and knowing you are loved.

His lips against yours, his words against your ear with whispers of how much he loves you and how beautiful you are and how good you are for him. Your own words, coming out slurred and breathless as you both chase your orgasms, wanting to crest that hill together.

“Keigo,” you’re whimpering. “Keigo, Keigo, Keigo.” Chants of his name spilling out of your lips like prayer beads, prayers that he drinks up with his kisses and his own soft entreaties of your name.

“I’m going to--”

“I want you to--”

“Fill me up, please--”

“Fuck--”

You both lose track of who is actually the one speaking; the words come out in a spill that’s mirrored by the twitch of your thighs and the coil of heat in your stomach. Your orgasm hits you like a train, and your fingers curl into Keigo’s short hair at the same time as he digs his teeth into the soft place where your neck meets your shoulders and his cock pulses inside of you, spilling his seed into your sex, marking you out as his. Your own release gushes over his cock, your cunt clenching around him as you pant and whimper. You’re light-headed and dizzy as you chase your aftershocks, gyrating your hips on his softening cock to eke out every last drop of pleasure you can. Keigo’s hands stay on you, sliding to the small of your back, encouraging you as he sucks and kisses on the bitemarks and lets his own pants fill the air.

The comfortable silence that follows your releases lasts only a moment.

He’s come inside of you once, and your body feels full and satiated with your own orgasm, but that’s not enough for Keigo. Even as he pulls out, his cock is already hardening again, a soft groan falling from his mouth as it slaps against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

“Tell me I can fuck you again,” he murmurs. “I want you to be full of me, birdie. I want you to be dripping with my come for weeks. I need t’fill you up so bad--”

You manage to screw up all of your left-over energy - not that there was much of it - to roll over, gathering yourself up on your hands and knees, spreading your legs further apart and balancing yourself on your elbows. It’s a position the two of you have used often, made all the more comfortable by Keigo’s expensive bed. It means that you don’t have to do much more work than stay there and thrust your hips back into him - and, crucially, it means that Keigo gets so deep inside of you that you swear you feel him in your stomach.

“Yes,” Keigo breathes, already gathering himself up onto his knees. He drops kisses onto the places on your shoulder blades and spine he scratched earlier, soft feather-light whispers of how much he adores you. “Fuck, angel--”

He fits inside of you like a glove; your earlier exertions making him slide inside of you so easily you barely feel the stretch. Your fingers clench into the sheets as you moan out a prayer that sounds like his name, as Keigo continues to drop wet messy kisses all over you. He’s rambling now, about how beautiful you look like this and how good you feel.

“I should fuck you on every surface in the house,” he whispers, as he begins to work his hips back and forth, sliding easily into a rhythm. “I should christen every single one of them, so it feels like home--”

“Okay,” you breathe in return, moving your hips as much as you can. You’re going to come again, you realise, embarrassingly quickly. He just feels so deep inside of you - like there is no end to where he starts or you begin, like there’s nothing in the universe but the two of you and the places you’re joined. One of his hands slaps over yours, holding it as best he can in the position you’re in.

“I need to fill you up,” he’s panting. “I need you . . . need you to be mine, need you to know how much I love you, need you need you need you--”

“I need you,” you reply, in a whimper that feels like a sob as he adjusts his hips just so and oh, the spots he hits inside of you with every thrust . . . You feel born anew again; like this is the first time Keigo has fucked you and you’re as sensitive as a virgin. You squeeze your eyes closed. “I need you more-- please fill me up, I want to be yours, please please please--”

“Say my name,” Keigo begs into your ear, the words broken up with pants. “Say you love me.”

“K-Keigo--!” Your voice pitches as your orgasm clenches all up inside of you. You feel yourself tighten around him. The feeling of him inside of you, the wet glide of his cock, the sting of the bites and scratches from your earlier extremely enthusiastic love-making, all converging together until you can do nothing but let the white hot feeling take you over completely. “I l-love you--”

A moaning whimpering groan of your name, and the two of you are coming together. Keigo’s cock is twitching inside of you, spilling more thick ropes of his come as deep into you as he can to join his earlier load. You moan as you feel it trickle down your thighs, as he fucks it in deeper chasing the aftershocks of his orgasm and your body collapses into a jelly-like mass of nothing but feeling. Keigo lets you collapse and follows you down, breathless laughs turning into moans as you lie there for a few moments sweating and panting in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

It takes a little while for the two of you to disentangle yourself fully; for Keigo’s cock to pop out of you (followed by a little rush of your mixed fluids), for him to drag your sweat-soaked body against him without caring for how you must be messing up the sheets.

“I love you too,” he says, a belated reply to your call as you’d come. Your face goes hot at the reminder.

You curl up against his chest shyly, cheek pressed to his beating heart. Your fingers come up to trace patterns over his skin, and he makes a noise low in his throat almost like a chirp, pleasure at your touch melding with the pleasure of what has transpired between you both. He’s always a little more bird-like in this state; relaxed and sated and happy.

A phone rings somewhere in the distance, and he groans. Eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s in my pocket,” he mumbles in annoyance. “It’ll be the Commission.”

You make a soft noise of displeasure at the Hero Commission already wanting to monopolise his time when it feels like he’s been home for an hour or two at most.

“I’d hoped we’d have a bit longer this time,” you say, and you hope that you don’t sound petulant. You don’t want to resent Keigo’s job! You know he’s one of the top heroes for a reason! But curled up in bed, it’s hard to reconcile Wing Hero: Hawks and Keigo, your boyfriend, your lover, your home. You want longer with him. You want to keep him for yourself.

His mouth twists. Resolutely, he wraps his arms back around you.

“We will,” he says, as he continues to ignore the ringing. “We’ll have more time. They can wait a day. I still have more things I want to do to you.”

“Unfair,” you say, hiding your smile in his chest. “It’s my turn to do things to you.”

He laughs and presses a kiss on the top of your head. The scratches and bruises and bites from your earlier exertions sting pleasantly; a reminder of home, a reminder of Keigo, a reminder of belonging.

“Okay,” he says, with a faux sigh. “It’ll be a challenge, but I’ll take one for the team. I guess you can do things to me next time.”

Both of you laugh and snuggle in closer to one another.

The bed feels so much more right with Keigo in it beside you.

#commissioned work #writing #not sfw text #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #hawks smut #bnha posting #chubby reader posting #bnha smut #mha smut

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maurothehuman · 23 days

Text

my take on secret boss / shopkeeper swap because i was bored lol

(WARNING!! VERY LONG TEXT INCOMING!!)

Slack: The old royal jester. Was very energetic in the past, but after locking up Sage in a cell, he used way more energy than he was supposed to, so he decided to sleep for a couple of years. That, until the lightners came to his world.

Sage: The old stitched up magician. Was very wise in everything they did and helped clean the castle due to Slack's energetic behaviour and (accidentally) destructive behaviour. That, until a strange someone came when he was preparing for their new show with Slack and told them how the world around them was a broken game and that everything needed to be fixed, and that it was their duty to do so. Somehow, they were driven mad by that someone, and when the show was about to begin, they failed to make a good show due to the shock of receiving the information. They started attacking everyone because "they've found their new duty, and they were supposed to do it right now". In a desperate attempt in trying to stop Sage, Slack attacked them. After a long fight, Slack managed to lock Sage up in a cell deep down the castle. That, until the lightners came back, opening the cage Sage was locked in. Now, they could finally have someone else to "fix" besides themselves, as their duty.

Twatch: The crooked, two-dimensional old cafe owner. He was part of a group of darkners called the D-Lings, which their duty were to start successful businesses of big variety. Twatch, as a new D-ling, was very new in the business so he had no idea how to manage that. Until he found a strange someone who could help him start the "artsy cafe business" he was planning, and accepted, as his plans were running low and he couldn't find any other people to do so. He started getting big, the "Creativity Cafe", as the cafe was called, was his new focus and his only focus. Now, with his new partner, he was keeping the cafe nice, clean and totally acessible for everyone to come, which earned him a special sponsor room in the Empress' Court. But, over the years, it started getting corrupt and the business was falling off as the people started to notice. His D-ling friends started distancing from him, which made him fall into a deep depression, not being able to run the shop anymore. But when he called his special partner for help, he didn't come. Twatch, now starting to go crazy over the fact he failed his duty, he ran away, never coming back, and permanently closing his cafe business, without anything to fill the void in him. Rumors say he is still present in the city, living in the dumps. He now wants to feel like the big person in control again, but now, instead of owning a big business, he now wants to be cross dimensions and become 3D to ascend. He'll be important again, and this time, he'll be "EVERYBODY'S TRUSTIEST HERO!!"

Bigson G. Shotton: The bartender of a successful bar inside the Empress' Court as a sponsor. Nothing much to say about him, he's the "Mister Big Shot" of the place! Because of that, he is with the women. Mostly due to his fame, appearence and personality. SPECIALLY his fame.

#utdr #deltaswap #deltarune swatch #deltarune seam #deltarune spamton #deltarune jevil

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whentheleahvesfall · 4 months

Text

Hero & Partner Week - Day 2 - Evolution

Writing (Diary Entry)

A dark, everglowing night. One that I've grown so accustomed to that it stands to reason that it remains the same ever since you left me Sprout. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? ...I've lost count of it all at this point.

Not that... it makes much difference anyway in the grand scheme of this world. I mean, who would even remember it anymore anyway? Me? The sole member of the Kipsaurs left? The one who keeps you in my mind so much that ever since you disappeared, I've felt hollow and well... lost? I don't know what's real and what's not anymore at this rate.

...

So um... I guess I'll write about what's it been like since you left. Um... well, as things stand, here in the Expedition Society - and in Lively Town in general - life has been progressing slowly. For what it's worth, I guess the people in town still look at me as someone helpful. I am a person who does look out for Pokemon in need! But... who's to say I'm the one who needs help? Heh, the hero of the world, the human who came from another era to save this one in the present and now it's all just... gone. And here I am. Now the one who needs saving after all this time. I just... don't really know what I'm missing from myself. Yet as time ticks away, does it make much difference anymore? I don't even know.

...

There's my reflection in the window. Staring back at me is the one person I don't want to see, and it's a Mudkip with a gnawed scar scraped over his right eye. With that stare, I remember a dream coming back to me. You were there. In it, I feel a fleeting feeling come and go, mostly from a reminiscence of when I tried to fight for the world's safety and then... there was a point where I snapped and I ran. I ran away so so fast that it was back in Serene Village and you raced to find me in the spot we would meet up in so much.

The place I said goodbye to you.

The place I wore this scarf as a way of remembering you.

The place where we formed our team, we laughed, we made a promise to each other and the place we cried together.

The place of the beginning and the end. Up there... on the hill with the big tree and with it, the most beautiful view of the valley I've ever seen in my life.

For however long it’s been, I’ve had a lot times together with you in my mind Sprout. A lot of memories. But those memories… slowly begin to fade away as I run away from who I am. Who I’ve become inside.

And you were there in my dream… to tell me to keep moving. You looked at me, those caring eyes of yours, and you stayed behind. To protect me from the demons that were created from my nightmares.

But why? To why were you even here, just looking at me like that? Did I even manage to do something that would warrant any form of recognition? Why would… or rather why would… you even want to help me?

And so on the cusp between dream and reality, the only person keeping me alive in this world was and still is you. Because you gave me no words, only a smile before you faded away and then my scarf began to glow.

My harmony scarf made me evolve, to continue fighting in that dream I had. My scar reminding me of you, when I first met you in this world… and still I fight even now. Whether it’s a dream, whether it’s reality, I don’t even know anymore. Whether I’m a Mudkip, or a Swampert, or whatever form I take now, I guess I still persist in this world, because I’m still me.

And it was only you who ever had complete and utter faith in me that I was only able to ever move forward. You - the outcast of Serene Village - took in the real outcast who came one day without warning.

Me.

And… and you promised me, from that day on, no matter how far apart we were, no matter how hopeless it would seem, you would always be my friend. And now, with you gone…

Can I even keep that promise?

I… I don’t even know anymore. What do I even do? Can you tell me Sprout? As… this scarf means I’m the only one left in the world with the ability to evolve near the Tree of Life, I… I don’t know if I still have some purpose left to fulfill.

Why? Why did you accept Dark Matter? Why did you stop me from destroying it?

To prevent it from coming back?

If so… then… am I the reason it’ll come back anyway? That I have so little faith in myself that I can’t do anything right anymore? I… I don’t know. I just don’t know.

You cared. The others seemingly care.

But do I ever feel properly cared? I guess, if it means anything, just for you… maybe I’ll evolve. Evolve myself… by ridding myself of this guilt of mine. Because my only hope, one way or another and even if it means running away from the Expedition Society…

I just want to see you again. My best friend. My one and only friend.

I miss you Sprout.

…

I miss you so much.

And… I’ll go anywhere, to the ends of this Pokemon world, just to see you again.

…

I’m uh… talking to Xerneas right now and am beginning to also remember my past. About who I was, how I came to be in this world and meeting you… so, so many years in the past before you reincarnated as the Mew of today. My lovable, kind, adventurous and gleaming partner.

How I’m beginning to remember I don’t even know. Mawile said it had something to do with some sort of ancient tablet she found when excavating the site on Showdown Mountain, and that on it was my name. But… just what is my connection still to the past?

And even so… is that even theoretically possible though? You told me I willed myself to this world so I could save it, but I sacrificed my memories so we wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the future. But now… now I’m having an identity crisis, as the human who was supposed to forget is now the human beginning to remember.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Even now, I think I realise the reason as to why I even forgot was so I couldn’t bear the pain of seeing you leave again. I did it because I cried so much on the hill that sunset came and went and Carracosta began looking for me until he found me still just lying there in a worried mess.

Nothing’s changed though… I’m just… I’m just repeating the same mistakes again over and over. Wherever I go, bad luck follows, or at least that’s how it feels. And no matter what, I just can’t shake the feeling I’m still the reason why you left. Why wasn’t it me who went with you that day?

Am I still fated by this last thing I have of you that I’m never taking off again because without it, I feel so insecure I’m never going to get it back?

I need to… no, I have to keep it. It’s just so important that I can’t evolve without it anymore.

Can’t evolve as you’re my biggest strength in all this. You were my biggest helper. And you’ll always be my light that shined when we were stuck in the Voidlands.

…

It’s getting late now. I’ve written enough now that I guess my thoughts have been fired out onto this little diary of mine. I saw you writing one when I couldn’t sleep one night and this habit of yours kinda just… well, stuck.

I hope you’re still okay, somewhere Sprout, whenever and wherever you are.

Goodnight bud. I… I hope you still care about me, just as how I still care about you.

…

I’ll always remember you.

-Cormac

@heropartnerweek

#pokemon #psmd #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon super mystery dungeon #cormac/mudkip #writing #heropartnerweek #I wanted to write something for this prompt and rather than do a fight scene I decided instead to go with some angst #not sure how long or short this is in the grand scheme of things but here is something for day 2 #hope you guys enjoy reading it :)

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pocket-sized-nightmare · 3 months

Text

here’s my entry for day 4 of @gem-pearl-week 2024! today’s prompt is “godhood” :D

Pearl’s arrival into the Empires SMP is marked by confusion.

Everyone around her is dressed in their normal clothes. Save for a few missing pieces and lost inventories, they’re all exactly the same as they were before. And they’re all staring at her.

Pearl is too distracted by the entirely new universe they’ve all crash-landed in to figure out why for a few hours. It’s only while talking to a man who has to be Scott’s soultwin that she finally processes it.

Her normal T-shirt and black hoodie have been replaced by a flowing green dress. She wears golden sandals instead of scuffed black sneakers. Her hair is much longer than it should be, and it’s oddly straight and shiny – very different from the usual tangles that come from hours of building work. The only familiar thing about her outfit is a crown of sunflowers, her favorite flower since childhood. Scott tells her she looks familiar, but that can’t be right. She doesn’t even look like herself.

————

“Pearl, what in the world did you do to her?”

A redheaded dragon hybrid with scaly white wings curls up against her partner as they watch the world from above. “You could’ve at least given them all a transformation,” she continues.

“I didn’t mean to!” A goddess with a sunflower crown wraps a golden goose wing around her. “It just sort of happened, Gem. I’ve got no explanation for it.”

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Gem says. “I’ve been watching my soultwin from a thousand years in the future LARP an entire developed empire for the last six months. I didn’t even know yours existed.”

“It’s a comforting thought.” Pearl smiles. “Maybe we’re supposed to find each other in every universe.”

“Yeah.” Gem closes her eyes and takes in the warmth of Pearl’s embrace. “Still. You could at least give her a hello before you transform her in your image.”

Pearl swats Gem with her other wing. “I told you, that was a complete accident.”

————

“Princess Gem of the kingdom of Dawn,” Pearl repeats, reading over the signature on Dawn’s latest royal decree.

The new universe solves exactly one mystery: where on earth Gem’s been disappearing to every day. It’s comforting to know she hasn’t just been holed up in her Hermitcraft base. Dawn is developed and beautiful, and the empire’s builds all bear a distinct GeminiTay touch. Pearl could wander its winding roads for hours.

Beyond that, though, Pearl has a thousand more questions. How did Gem get through the rift before it was open? How did she find out about this world? Who’s the goddess in the stained-glass window of the church, and why does she kind of look like me? And above all, what on earth is going on with my new outfit?

She doesn’t have time to wonder for long before Gem appears behind her. “Hey, Pearl!”

Pearl drops the scroll and shrieks in surprise. “You startled me! How’d you get back there?”

“I’ve been here for a while!” Gem says with a grin. “How are you doing? Enjoying the kingdom?”

Pearl tries to put on a bright smile. “Yeah, it’s great! I can’t believe what you’ve done with the place.”

Gem sees straight through Pearl’s act. “Okay, I know you better than that. How are you really doing?”

Pearl sits down on a nearby bench and sighs. “I feel weird. Is that bad?”

“Nope. I felt like that when I stumbled on this place. Especially after…” Gem flutters her monarch butterfly wings. “I’m still adjusting to these things. It’s hard to be an elytrian. How do you do it every day?”

Pearl giggles. “Hard work and practice. And, you know, living with them all day, every day since age seven.” She elbows Gem playfully, then sighs. “Your friend Sausage keeps forgetting who I am.”

“Sausage forgets everything,” Gem says without a hint of concern. “He’ll get it back.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. He keeps calling me a goddess.” It occurs to her that Gem might be able to help her solve another mystery. “Do you know who Santa Perla is?”

Gem’s eyes light up. “Of course! She’s a farming goddess. There are all kinds of legends about her. Apparently she lived, like, a thousand years ago. I’ve heard a couple different versions of the story, but the main idea is that she was a guardian who was killed at the end of the world and then brought back to life by the king of Mythland. She’s supposed to bring protection and renewal.”

“Protection and renewal.” Pearl can’t help but smile at that. “Y’know, I don’t mind being compared to that. She sounds nice.”

“Come to think of it, she does kind of look like you,” Gem says.

“Aw, are you calling me pretty?”

Gem jokingly winks. “Brighter than the sun.”

————

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to reach her,” Saint Pearl admits.

Gem looks up from the pie filling she’s halfway through preparing and blinks in surprise. “I thought you never tried to visit the world below anymore.”

“I know. But she’s different.” Pearl grabs a spoon from the kitchen drawer and steals a spoonful of pie filling. “She’s basically my sister. I’ve got to say hello.”

Gem smirks. “And that’s all?”

“I’m not going to ask her if she’s in love with the ruler of Dawn, if that’s what you’re implying.” Pearl steals another spoonful of pie filling. “Oh, that’s really good. What is that, apple?”

“Golden apple and honey.” Gem moves the bowl out of Pearl’s reach with a grin. “I guess you��re right. We already know the answer.”

“Hey, now.” Pearl reaches for another bite of pie and misses by a mile. “I don’t want to make assumptions about her. Or your soultwin, for that matter.”

“She heard your story and immediately built a church for you. And you ‘just so happen’ to resemble her best friend on her home server.” Gem moves the bowl a bit further away. “Save some for the pie, you goofball.”

“And what are you suggesting we do? Play matchmaker?” Pearl moves a bit closer, surreptitiously reaching out a spoon.

“Nope,” Gem says, both to the suggestion and the attempted theft. “I don’t know. However they feel, we shouldn’t try to force them together. I just think we need to…”

“We should just…” Pearl says.

“...say hello,” they say at the same time.

Gem notices Pearl has another spoonful of pie filling in her hand. “Oh, don’t you dare!”

————

Climbing a tree at night is the most foolish thing Gem’s ever done.

In her very weak defense, she panicked. There was a creeper following her, and it’s hard to think straight when a murderous mob is on your tail. Besides, the tree provided a foothold to climb up to the roof of a nearby fisherman’s cottage. He’s out of the house that day, thank goodness – she doesn’t know what she’d do if anyone caught her like this.

With the creeper gone, Gem prepares to step down, then freezes. The ground below her is surrounded on all sides by zombies.

She reaches for her sword, then remembers she doesn’t have one. Gem can’t help but roll her eyes at the realization that she’s effectively the human equivalent of a cat in a tree. “I deserve this. That’s on me.”

From a few blocks away, someone calls, “You alright over there?”

Gem recognizes the voice and immediately puts her head in her hands.

Sure enough, Pearl swoops down and lands on the tree’s highest branch. “Well, now, what do we have here?”

“A lot of zombies,” Gem says.

Pearl peers down at the horde below. “I’m surprised you haven’t cut all their heads off by now.”

Gem sighs. “Well, uh. About that.” She looks down at her feet. “My character– I mean–” She clears her throat. “Princess Gem of Dawn doesn’t carry weapons.”

“A damsel in distress, huh?” Pearl ties her dress out of the way and climbs up to the roof. “Doesn’t sound like the Gemini I know.”

“Shut up and give me a sword.”

“Gladly.” Pearl tosses an iron sword to Gem, then takes her own diamond sword from her inventory. “This might be the last time I ever have better gear than you.”

“Oh, I’ve got full netherite armor on. You just can’t see it.” Gem hops down to the grass and begins taking out the zombies around her.

Pearl joins her after a moment. Gem can’t help but feel a sense of pride at the fact that Pearl has clearly improved since Season 8. A selfish part of her hopes it’s because of their sparring practices.

Saint Pearl watches the sight on her television with one wing wrapped around Gem. “Aw, look at ‘em.”

“They’re such idiots,” Gem giggles.

“Because of the not-unrequited love, or because Gem didn’t have a sword?”

“Can’t it be both?” Gem says with a grin.

The last zombie disappears into a puff of smoke just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pearl nudges Gem. “Hey, look. Dawn.”

Gem sits down and leans against the wall of the house. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Pearl sits down next to her. “So beautiful.”

Gem smiles at the sight of the sunrise. “We used to do this sometimes.”

“We still do,” Saint Pearl says.

Pearl sleepily grins. “Thank you for the adventure.”

Pearl rests her head on Gem’s shoulder. Pearl rests her head on Gem’s shoulder.

A soft sense of connection – of something finally feeling right – washes over Pearl and Gem at the same time. Gem yawns. “We should at least get a bit of rest.” She offers Pearl her hand. “Sleepover at my castle?”

“Gladly,” Pearl says.

————

Hello, Pearl.

Your new friends are right that you look familiar. The transformation was an accident, and I apologize for that. I’m not sure how to undo it – not when you’re on this server, I mean. I will say that the dress suits you. Its color matches your hair very nicely.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I think I can speak to you and your friends in dreams. It’s much more clear than when I’m in person, at least. It’s true that I’m a goddess, but there’s much more to the story than people know. I was the ruler of Gilded Helianthia, a kingdom full of sunflowers. I learned to fight to protect my friends, much like the way you saved Gemini today. We have a lot in common. I suspect there’s even more that I haven’t yet learned.

My partner is asleep next to me. She’s holding my hand. I think you’d like her. We have that in common, too.

Thank you for making yourself known to me. I’m glad to finally meet you, and I hope we get to learn more about each other in the future. It’s nice to know I have a kind and protective soultwin to look after.

I suppose I might as well leave you with one more tidbit about me, considering you’re going to wake up soon. My partner is the former wizard and ruler of the Crystal Cliffs, a thousand years ago. I love her. She’s a real gem.

I hope you’re well, and that tomorrow brings you more adventures. It’s lovely to finally meet you.

————

When Pearl wakes up, there’s a potted sunflower on Gem’s bedside table that wasn’t there before. She picks it and adds it into her flower crown. “Good morning, Saint Pearl. Thank you for the gift.”

The princess of Dawn rolls over and curls up against Pearl’s side, snoring softly.

Pearl smiles. “And thank you too, Wizard Gem.”

#hermitshipping #empiresshipping #gempearl #gempearlweek2024 #i’m so emotional over them. look at them they’re so precious #anyway i love the idea of saint pearl protecting pearl from afar

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olive-gardens-breadstick · 2 years

Text

sandman hope!hob au Pandora's box

okay so we know DC follows Greek/roman mythology to a point right? so Pandora's box must exist, and we all know the story right? hope gets trapped in the box after Pandora opens it.

part 2

wordcount: 1551

hope!hob is trapped within this box for several millennia all alone, not even taunted by captors, just isolated in the dark and quiet watching as new awful things are born within the box. I imagine the box is opened by someone just before the age of heroes begins. a scorned lover pouring all the new horrid things directly into their cheating, abusive partner and catching a very small light before it enters their gaping chest cavity. they hold hope there, magically closing the wound and sealing their lover into an endless void, outside of time’s realm condemning them to live forever in never ending pain. they do all this with one hand, carefully holding hope, they take his small form outside and whisper into their hand

“do something worthwhile with this freedom, any god out there knows we need you” the words are washy and weak “and if you cannot find the strength to do it all yourself, bless people to inspire you within the minds of the rest of us”

they open their hand and hob’s little light form takes off to see just how the world got on without him. not well obviously, a world with no hope is desolate and cold. hope goes back to his realm to call on his sister death to catch him up, and she tells him she knows just the person to do just that.

Morpheus has been around a long time. he was born after Pandora opened the box and the only word the people of his village called him was hopeless. this was not a surprise of course, hope was not where he was supposed to be, but the rest of the children still seemed to want to live. Morpheus however made it seem like a chore. he went through the motions as they came and did nothing more or less. he was a thing of beauty though, his demeanor didn’t stop suitors from pursuing him. they all did their best but none of them ever seemed to interest him. he even caught the eye of a king who gifted him a ruby necklace saying it popped against his pale skin and dark hair. Morpheus did not particularly want to keep it but his parents had insisted he keep it and marry the king anyway.

and so he did.

he was not particularly fond of his husband, but he didn’t dislike him. the marriage and his husband were just another motion. the grounds of his husband's kastro were vast and stretched for miles and ended in cliffs that Morpheus found himself standing before at the end of the many walks he took in a day. one particular evening, when the winds were stronger that usual, he found himself lingering at the cliff’s edge a bit longer and a bit closer than he normally would, and so had someone else

“are you going to jump?”

to say the voice had startled him would be incorrect, it had simply shifted his focus. the woman who the voice belonged to was dressed in a fine ebony cloth and a very simple necklace with a strange symbol he could not place, and her skin was just as pale as his, if someone had seen them together they might’ve thought they were siblings, still Morpheus did not especially care who she was or what she was doing here but answered her nonetheless

“no, but would it really matter if i did?”

“what does it matter? you know, most people have some sort of emotion towards the prospect of dying.”

“i suppose they do, don’t they? i don’t see why though, it’s going to happen whether they want it to or not”

“they probably see the beauty, or in some cases pain, that life has to offer” Morpheus tilted his head and thought for a moment before looking back at the woman

“perhaps life has nothing to offer me, nothing of value anyway” he said starting his way back to the kastro past the woman dressed in black. he had already gotten past her as she cocked her head and called back to him

“you know how you said it happens whether one wants it to or not?” he stopped and turned back to her

“yes, what of it?”

“it’s not going to happen to you”

“what?” she turned to face him once more

“you aren’t going to die, whether you want to or not. you are going to watch as life progresses and evolves into something you, at this moment, could never even fathom.” she beamed, before he could question her further one of the servants called his name, it was late and the king wanted him back in the kastro, he called back saying he’d be in soon, but when he turned to face her, she was gone.

now, hundreds of thousands of years later, as he stands in the entrance to his home, standing in the living room, the woman is before him once more for the second time. her clothes match the days casual fashion just as they had before, all black and very simple with the same necklace. the man next to her, however, is wearing clothes that fit with the first outfit he has at the very bottom of a trunk in his attic. a long pale yellow tunic with white underneath with traditional sandals. his hair reaches just above his shoulders and his head seems to have a faint gold glow around it. he's looking around at the shelves of books, movies and various musical mediums with awe before moving on to the trinkets and sculptures scattered around.

"I don't believe I introduced myself the last time we met" she pipes up drawing Morpheus's attention away from the man

"you did not." he confirms as he sets his bag down and hangs his coat "you also left quite suddenly" he adds as he takes off his shoes

"yes I did" she laughs "I'm here to rectify one of those things, I am death of the endless and this," she pauses to pull the man behind her to her side "is my brother, hope" the man smiles "and I have a favor to ask of you"

morpheus tilts his head "a favor, why would i do you a favor?"

"its not really for me, its for him" she says pushing him forward a bit

"he doesn't have to do anything for me if he doesn't want to" he says to her before turning to Morpheus "you really don't, I can figure it out by myself, sister I can figure it out on my own this really isn't necessary" his motions are slightly sporadic

"figure what out?" he asks walking to the kitchen thinking about what type of drink to get for his guests.

"you don't have to worry about it, it-"

"my brother hasn't been able to reach this realm for quite awhile, he needs someone to catch him up on what he's missed" death interrupts with a smile "and I thought who better than someone whos been around the longest?" she asks as she follows him to the kitchen

Morpheus ponders this for a moment 'what he's missed?' he pops his head out of the kitchen to take another look at hope 'based on his clothes he's probably never had hot chocolate' he thinks as he goes back in to start gathering the various types of chocolate from his pantry and put some milk on the stove.

"if I were to help him. what would I have to do? just give him the internet, could he just absorb the information?" he questions as he cuts up a chocolate bar.

"internet? what's an internet?" hope asks panicked "can it catch me? is it magic?"

"no hope, no, nononononono, it cant catch you" she reassures him "its like destiny's book but, um, well its hard to explain but its not a net, it cant catch you" she puts her hands on his shoulders and quietly says "no one is going to catch you again I promise. I wont let them"

'catch him again? where was he?' he thinks as he stops cutting 'who caught him?'

"okay no internet"

"no internet"

"i guess, i could just, i dont know, tell him stories?" morpheus suggests pouring the chocolate into the milk and stirring

"stories sound nice, i'd like to hear stories." hope says in a small voice

"you're gonna need some new clothes though," he says pouring the hot chocolate in a cup "tunics aren't exactly in style anymore. here I think you'll like this" he says handing it to hope, watching his reaction as his face lights up. like actually lights up. well not his face per say, but the light around his head.

"this is delightful! what is it?" hope beams (literally) looking into his cup

"you may not have been around but you still live within their souls, if ever so slightly. they are never truly free of you, hope" death says leaning over the counter. "anyway. hope, when Morpheus lights this candle it means he's ready to tell you a story. okay?" he nods "alright lets get you bac to your realm" "okay :)" and with that they're gone.

"..."

"I didn't even really agree" Morpheus says, holding the candle.

n e ways i hope the four people who see this and also read through all of it like it! thank you for reading!

#dc #the sandman au #the sandman #hope au #hope!hob #hope of the endless #hob x morpheus #hob x dream #hob gadling #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #death of the endless #dreamling #dreamling fic #hope x dream #hope x morpheus #neil gaiman

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meganwiththeknees · 1 month

Text

Distant

Chapter 6

Summary:

A look into the past after your offer to attend UA.

-FLASHBACK-

You accepted Mrs. Yagiyama’s offer, and you're making a lot of progress with your online courses. You had finally reached the second month of your eighth-grade summer, which meant that you had been taking classes for two months. Things were kind of rough in the beginning, though. When you informed your parents about the events that unfolded, they were through the roof with enthusiasm...but when you told them that this was an offer from a school in Japan, the excitement quickly faded.

Your parents made a fair amount of money due to their jobs. Your mom was a businesswoman that worked for a reasonably big company in the states, and your dad was an engineer. Since your mom had such a demanding occupation, it would be hard for her to just pick up and move out of the country. To top it off, the company did not have any partners with Japan, so she couldn’t be transferred to a new job there even if she wanted to.

Your parents knew how much you wanted to be a hero at the time and always pushed you to follow your dreams, so they came up with a plan for you to move to Japan. Since your dad was an engineer, it wouldn’t be as hard for him to find work in a new area. So, you and your dad would move to Japan, and your mom would stay in the states. When your parents first told you the plan they had come up with, you told them no immediately.

You didn’t want to go anywhere without your mother, let alone to another country to live. It took a lot of convincing from your parents until you finally cracked and decided that you would move to Japan in your tenth-grade year. You saw how happy they were when you finally said yes, and that helped comfort you. Your parents kept telling you that they didn’t want to be the reason you gave up on your dreams.

You were very thankful for your parents for what they did for you. You felt like things were too good to be true. Although, deep down, you still didn’t want to leave. Even though your parents didn’t want to be the cause of you giving up on your ambitions- you didn’t want to be the reason your parents were apart. Your parents assured you that nothing would change, and, to be frank, you knew nothing would break them apart, but you didn’t want to feel like you were at fault if something did.

Another thing that made you not want to leave was the simple fact that you would be leaving your best friend, Elina. She was one of your dearest friends, and you wouldn’t trade her for the world. You didn’t have many people that you could call a friend except Elina. So for you to leave her, you knew you would never find someone as extraordinary as she was.

You walk home with Elina, as you always do, and tell her about your acceptance into U.A.

"Wow, you're so smart! This is really amazing, you know? You always talked about Japan being your number one vacation spot!" Elina goes on and on about how you were the brightest person that she knew.

You knew Elina never wanted to be a hero, and Elina knew you wanted to be one. You and Elina understood each other and were always very happy about your successes, so you knew she would be content with whatever decision you made. Even if that meant leaving her behind and going to Japan.

"Yeah...I'm going to miss you, though," you sadly smile at her.

"Yeah, yeah, no more of that sad stuff! Don't make me hold you back- this is a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity!" Elina laughs as she pulls you into a hug.

You knew Elina would be fine; you could tell she had big things headed her way. She always said she wanted to be a model, and she was definitely model material with her long legs, long black curly hair, and pretty dimples- along with her fashion sense. You knew the two of you would do great things- just in two completely different ways. You never imagined that two people could be so very complex but so alike at the same time.

As time continued to pass, the days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, and the months turned into one whole year. You consume every second of your free time with the ones you love. Soon the time came for you to travel off to Japan. You and your father were informed that Mrs. Yagiyama had found a place for the two of you so it would be easier for you to settle down when you arrived. You would have to leave three weeks before school started over in Japan. One reason being the fact that you had to take the practical and written part of the test. The second being so that you and your father could get adjusted to your new home. You officially had a month before the day would come, and you would leave for Japan.

The work you did throughout the whole year was challenging at some points, but you were satisfied with how far you had come. You were nowhere near fluent in Japanese, but you knew enough to hold a conversation with someone and find your way around Japan.

The month was finally up, and it was time for you to leave. That moment may have been the hardest one in your life. It was hard for you to leave your family and friends behind, but you knew that they always had the best in mind for you. You shed many tears when you finally said your final goodbyes to your mom and Elina. The moment was bittersweet as you waved them goodbye before heading to the plane.

After a very long and gruesome flight, you finally landed in Japan. You were exhausted after the flight, and you blamed it on the jet lag. It would take days- or even weeks to get used to the new environment. Once you got out of the plane and you and your father went to pick up all your luggage, you headed over to your new home. Seeing Japan for the first time was like something out of a movie and just how you imagined it would be. There were so many lights and buildings to see, and you couldn’t wait to explore it all. Soon you will finally settle into your new home in; Musutafu, Japan.

When you finally arrived at your new home, you were amazed at how pretty it looked. The inside was nice and spacious, the perfect size for you and your dad- and maybe even one or possibly two more people. Your room was a perfect size, and you couldn’t wait to decorate it with your things. Lucky for you and your dad, Mrs. Yagiyama and U.A. spared you no expense, and the house was completely furnished with everything you would need. You couldn’t have been happier about this because sleep was calling your name after a long trip. You tell your dad good night as you head to bed, thinking of what is in store for you in the next three weeks before you officially start school.

In your very first week of living in Japan, there were already so many things to do. The first would be taking your written exam. The test was very long, but you were pretty sure you passed it, so you weren’t very worried. Just three days later would be your practical exam, and you couldn’t have been more anxious. Your nerves had calmed down a little when you were informed that you would be taking the test with a couple of other students. This made you happy because it meant that you didn’t have to take the test with a bunch of other students.

On the day of the practical exam, your nerves were getting the better of you, and you felt like you had to throw up before even stepping foot out of the car. Your dad was encouraging you the whole drive, but it didn’t help the nerves. As you pulled up to the school, you saw a couple of students standing in front of the building. You hesitantly get out of the car and walk up to the group. As you look forward, you see a puffy figure in front of you that seems to be doing a headcount of everyone.

“12, 13, and 14, okay, that’s everyone! Hello everyone, I’m Thirteen, and I will be your instructor for today’s practical exam, as well as one of your teachers this year!” Thirteen exclaims as they greet everyone.

Thirteen proceed to tell everyone what the exam will consist of and that they will need to take a bus to the location of the testing site. As thirteen wraps up they’re speech, a bus proceeds to pull up, and everyone gathers on the bus and takes a seat. You sit next to a girl with black hair that is pulled back into a ponytail. You shuffle in your seat awkwardly until she breaks the silence.

“Ah, I’m so nervous. What about you?” She turned her head slightly to you as she fiddled with her hair.

“I’m so nervous that I almost threw up on the way over here.” you babble as you let out a little sigh.

“I’m glad that I’m not the only one, but I’m sure we’ll pass, considering UA themselves wanted to invite us to their school. Oh, and by the way, my name is Yaoyorozu Momo, but you can just call me Momo.” Momo smiles at you.

You then introduce yourself to Momo, and you two conversate the whole bus ride there. She shares little about herself and her quirk. Her eyes widened as you told her about your quirk and how you just got to Japan only about a week ago. She couldn’t believe how good your Japanese was, and she even offered to show you around the city and help tutor you with your Japanese if you ever needed help.

Your little chat with Momo helped you feel at ease, and before you knew it, you were done with the exam. You were really thrilled that you met Momo, and you hoped that you both passed your exams. At the end of the test, Thirteen told everyone that their results would be in by next week. In approximately one week, your whole life would change for the better or worse.

One week had finally passed, and in that week, you checked the mail each and every day. The anticipation was eating you alive, but the day eventually arrived, and you received the letter in the mail. You gaze at the thin piece of paper resting in your hands. You hesitantly tear the mail open and slowly pull the paper out.

"We are proud to inform you that-"

You didn't even read the rest. That's all you needed to know.

You and your father were overjoyed. You did a group facetime with your mom and Elina to tell the good news. They were screaming on the phone with joy. Along with your letter in the mail was your school uniform. You tried on the uniform and showed it to your mom and Elina as you did small poses in the outfit. Everything hit you like a brick later that night as you were getting ready for bed. You stared up at the blank ceiling of your room, falling asleep as you finally realized that you had one more week until school had officially started.

The night before your first day, you made sure that you were extra prepared. You set out your uniform and made sure that your backpack was packed. The morning you woke up, your dad had prepared you a 'nice first-day' breakfast and had called your mom so that she could tell you to have a good first day. You couldn’t wait to get to school, and for some reason, you weren’t nervous at all. Even though you were a little worried about your Japanese and introductions, the excitement was filling up every concern in your mind. Today was the day to the start of your new hero life, and nothing could change that.

You wave to your father goodbye as you nearly run into the building. Everything about the school was prominent, even down to the doors. You skim every sign, looking for classroom 1-A.

It took a lot of searching and asking before you finally found it. As you stepped into the classroom, you noticed all the students and one familiar face. What a coincidence that you and Momo ended up in the class. You immediately approach the girl to tell her hi.

“Hey, Momo, I can’t believe that we’re in the same class. It’s so nice to already know someone in class.” You gleam at Momo.

“I know! I wasn't expecting us to be in the same class either. It’s like we were meant to meet each other.” Momo beams a smile at you.

As you and Momo continue to catch up with each other, you notice a blonde-haired male with a peculiar black lighting bolt streak walk up to you two.

“Good morning ladies, I just wanted to come and introduce myself to the two of you. My name is Kaminari Denki, and can I say the two of you look very pretty this morning.” Denki smirks smugly at you and Momo.

You look at Denki and burst out laughing. He undoubtedly made an interesting first impression on you. It was just so funny that on your first day you were already receiving a compliment. Not that you didn’t like the compliment; it was just so sudden that it caught you off guard, and you thought it was funny.

“What are you laughing at?” Denki questions you, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to come over and give us a compliment, but thank you!” You look at Denki, giving him a smile after your laughter subsided.

Denki gazes at you, and you can see that he is a little embarrassed by the redness in his ears. He opened his mouth for a second before he turned around to leave.

“Hey, wait! What were you about to say just now?” You reach out and grab his arm so he wouldn’t leave so soon. You kind of felt bad because you thought you hurt his feelings by laughing at him.

“Well, if you must know, I was just gonna say that I meant every word I said just now before you laughed at me,” Denki pouted, puffing out his chest.

It was your turn to get a little embarrassed this time, but lucky for you, it’s not like anyone can notice if you did. Although, the room did feel a bit warmer than before.

“By the way, I never got your name,” Denki mumbles.

You tell him your full name but insist he must call you by your first name since that is what you are used to. You then look up at Denki and say while flashing him one more smile.

“Okay, well, then since I’m calling you by your first name, you should call me by mine too,” Denki points his thumb at himself, adding in a wink.

From that day forward, you and Denki were attached by the hip. You two were inseparable. You never thought that you would make another genuine friend in such a short amount of time, but you couldn’t have been happier. You never thought that you could meet anyone as good as Elina until Denki. You realized soon after your friendship started to blossom that he was truly the guy version of Elina. He was funny, kind, and a complete airhead just like her, but above all else, he had the same drive and determination that never stopped no matter what the goal was- just like she did. Even if it was difficult, they still pushed through, and that’s what you loved so much about both of their characters.

So, how could someone so close to you end up so far away?

Notes:

sorryyyy for the late post 😋

#angst with a happy ending #anime #bakugou katsuki #black reader #bnha deku #deku x reader #denki kaminari #denki x reader #izuku midoriya #fluff #boku no hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #slow burn #mha x reader #mha denki #midoriya x reader #mina ashido #my hero academia #mha

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izvmimi · 2 years

Text

WSB (and WSHB) - Chapter I

cw: pregnancy mention, abortion mention.

Masterlist

It’s the middle of the night and as Bakugou turns over in his bed to glance at the digital clock at his end table, he groans, realizing whatever the fuck has his phone vibrating at this time of night will keep him up for at least half of the four hours he has left before his shift.

He slips out from underneath the sheets as quietly as possible, making sure not to disturb his sleeping fiance besides him who has managed not to be roused from all the commotion. Resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead in fear that it might wake her, he leaves the room.

Izuku, as expected from the frantic series of texts, is at his front door, and from what Katsuki can tell from his quick peek into the keyhole before he opens it, his friend’s scarred hands are shaking. The dark hoodie that obscures his features makes it hard for Katsuki to discern exactly what he’s feeling, but the fact that Izuku trembles like a leaf is enough for him to realize that whatever is going on is quite bad. It better be bad if he’s being woken up for this.

As soon as the door swings open, Izuku says without hesitation,

“Kacchan, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but he listens.

…

“She’s what?”

The difference between the two pro Heroes is usually obvious - Deku often smiling and bright, the type of man who kisses babies and helps old ladies across the street, while Katsuki has the scowling energy of an anti-hero, the bad boy with a heart of gold and diamond that headlines the wet dreams of many a civilian. However, today, it cannot possibly be more stark.

Katsuki’s eyes are wide with shock and his eyebrows are knit together at his forehead; his arms cross close to his bare chest, and he’s nearly naked as he stands perfectly still in nothing but a pair of boxers, while Izuku looks for all the world like a man who is close to toppling over any second, covered in stress and far too many layers between a hat, sweatshirt and baggy pants. You would think he was worried about being recognized, although both he and Katsuki live in the same part of the city where most Heroes reside, known for a nearly impenetrable privacy.

Izuku opens his mouth in defense but the words barely come out. Katsuki grits his teeth.

“You fucking idiot!”

He lets out a loud sigh after the exclamation, then leans his back against the front door. It occurs to him that maybe he should let his friend in but he knows he risks the chance of waking his partner up if they talk inside the house and once she’s involved… well, things might just go even further off the rails.

“I know… I know,” Izuku repeats. “I… I don’t even know why I came here, I just… I couldn’t sleep and I can’t tell her the truth-”

“What do you mean you can’t tell the truth?” Katsuki hisses. “You think you can hide the fact that you and Uraraka are having an entire child?”

Izuku seems to pale even further, and Katsuki wonders if this is the first time he’s hearing the reality in black and white, in all of its messy glory.

“Did she tell you today?” He presses, disregarding Izuku’s shock.

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“Around 8pm she showed up and told me.” Izuku finally lowers his hoodie to run his hand through his hair and Katsuki can now clearly see the frazzled and matted locks that stick to his forehead. He looks an absolute mess, more of a mess than Katsuki has ever seen him before, and part of this annoys Katsuki because he warned him that things could turn out this way.

Well, not exactly this way… but Katsuki had clearly told Izuku he was playing with fire the moment he had picked up on Ochaco coming around just a little more often just mere weeks after his breakup.

He couldn’t figure out what Izuku’s endgame was. His friend was always kind and almost nauseatingly considerate, and he’d always had the impression that Izuku actually loved his ex just a little bit more than she loved him (although she’d emphatically disagree), so when he’d appeared to be moving on just a little too quickly with his blushy old flame, Katsuki had found it suspicious. A rebound maybe? Maybe a way to lie to himself and prove that he wasn’t lost without her?

But a baby?

“Your dumb ass never heard of condoms?” Katsuki snaps, and Izuku swallows hard then mutters something mostly unintelligible about a pill and pulling out and he rolls his eyes. Then he considers that maybe that was a bit harsh and rubs his chin.

A heavy wind picks up in between them as though adding gravity to the situation. Gravity. Uravity. The free word association is starting to get on Katsuki’s nerves.

“How far along?”

“9 weeks, maybe 10.” Izuku’s hands won’t stop fidgeting.

Bakugou winces. He probably shouldn’t have asked.

“What’s your plan? Aside from showing up at my doorstep with your problems?” He finally asks.

“I- I don’t have one,” Izuku says, and the realization hits both of them at the same time. He usually has a plan, no matter how stupid or idealistic it can sound. Katsuki prides himself on thinking that his plans are better , but even he is at a loss right now.

When you find out, it will break you, even if you’re pretending you’ve left Hero society behind in the conversations he overhears between you and his fiancé. Even if you are avoiding any situation that will involve you and Izuku being in the same room.

It’s been close to five months since the two of you have broken up and everyone knows that you’re still in love with each other, even if the tabloids continue to push Deku and Uravity as the it couple of the year.

But a baby can’t be ignored.

“Start by telling her, not me,” Bakugou says, and Izuku immediately resists.

“I can’t.”

Katsuki blows air from his nose in a derisive snort but Izuku looks directly at him now, as opposed to lowered in distress, eyes red-rimmed from tears but still somehow ferocious.

“Do not tell her.” Izuku says.

It’s as much as a plea as it is a threat by the way his fingers clench so tightly into fists, irregular knuckles jutting against pale, roughened skin. Katsuki considers the benefit of pointing out that if he really wanted to keep this secret a secret, he probably should not have barged in at 3 am and told him everything but decides he’s not in the mood for a fight for once.

“Fine.”

It’s a promise he’ll regret later in the morning.

Bakugou scratches his chin, then rolls his neck that’s somehow stiffened in the process of active listening. He goes to shove his hands in his pockets, then remembers he doesn’t have any pockets. Izuku wrings his hands, then rubs up and down his face. He looks like he’ll pull out his hair any second, then lets out a sigh.

“I don’t know why I came here, Kacchan.”

However, the two of them do know, and they remain silent in the acceptance of their ability to confide in each other.

“I don’t either,” Bakugou replies. The two pause and look at each other. Bakugou folds, unsure how to offer support but twists his mouth to the side.

“I won’t talk but you have to talk. Let me know how it goes.”

Katsuki means to turn abruptly and return back to his sleeping partner in desperate hopes of salvaging what’s left of his sleep. Izuku whispers a word of thanks, and Bakugou stops as he opens the door, and glances back at him.

He thinks for a moment what it would be like, if it were him, standing outside Izuku’s home at 4 in the morning, knowing that he fucked it up irrevocably with the love of his life. His stomach twists.

“Yeah, no problem.”

---

Izuku is not sure when or how he fell asleep.

What he is sure of however, is that today is the first free Sunday he’s spent in an empty bed since the week you broke up. No you and no Uraraka laying beside him either (although in his heart of hearts he knows he would have always much rather it be you); just him and a swamp of damp, rustled bedsheets.

He has no nightmares because he is living one. One where he can clearly remember your smile and how he managed to dim its light time and time again, and wondering if this is what will dull even the shine in your teeth.

Perhaps he’s being dramatic, he wonders, as he sits up slowly, the soles of his feet pressed against each other. His throat is dry and his head pounds as though he were hungover and he considers how tired his friend might be, having dealt with his caprices in the middle of the night.

A child isn’t an awful thing on its own. He’s good with children. He’s not too young to be a father and he knows a little about responsibility. He can provide for a child.

His mother will be confused, but delighted. A child is a good thing.

Your child would be the best thing, what he’s always wanted, however good cannot always be the enemy of the perfect.

The word ‘fuck’ comes out of his lips effortlessly as he rises to start the day with some stretches.

According to his phone, it’s a little past noon, far too late for a man who rarely sleeps in. Ochaco has sent him a couple messages, as has Bakugou, and there are a few calendar reminders for things that are thankfully scheduled later in the week.

Bakugou’s text is brief and disturbingly considerate.

You okay?

No, Izuku thinks, but he’s already bothered him enough. He texts back a brief ‘yea’ which Bakugou will see through instantly, then his heart races as he opens Ochaco’s messages.

I’m sorry I showed up so abruptly, but I couldn’t think of a better time.

I’ll come by later tonight, if that’s okay?

Izuku swallows hard.

Of course it’s okay. What other choice does he have?

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #thoughts: izuku #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #mimi writes: wsbwshb

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sol-consort · 20 days

Note

question about your femshep: how would she react if confronted with her private affairs by the media and what do hackett and anderson think of her having multiple children and affairs/ how did they react?

I love your character, so different from what people normally do with paragons!🩷🦑

thank you! I like the concept of characters who make the best heroes yet are bad in their personal life.

It really makes you feel conflicted about how their scaled heart would weigh against a feather. On one side, they save people's lives, on another side, they break their lovers' hearts.

They make mythical legends, great leaders, even good friends, but terrible partners.

One of the benefits of going paragon is the high persuasion. A paragon Shep is effortlessly charming, the media's darling even. When it comes to the extranet viral interview vids, it doesn't matter what she's really saying as long as how she's saying it is seemingly convincing.

A reporter tries to corner her about another spouse who filed for divorce after catching her in bed with another? Femshep mentions how, yes, that did happen, and she takes full responsibility. That it's their right to divorce her if they feel like it, that's their freedom, isn't it? The same freedom she's been defending for decades, the freedom everyone almost got robbed of by the reapers not so long ago, the entire galaxy would've been wiped wasn't it for her stepping up and convincing everyone to put their differences aside and work together.

Do tell her, reporter, do you have a family? Are they from earth or an outer colony? Who do you think kept it safe? Kept your family and friends safe while you were spreading high-school lockerroom gossip about her. You should be ashamed of yourself. She is not perfect, yes, but who is?

Or something along those lines. As if those unrelated things excuse her actions.

Evading the question, speaking with confidence, appearing charismatic on camera, and she's got every viewer in her pocket. Die hard fans ready to defend her wrongdoings because "She is commander Shepard!" and "we should be asking what the ex-spouce did to cause her to cheat? It can't be her fault." as if it's ever the fault of the person who gets cheated on.

Admiral Hackett

He is shown to have looser morals than the rest of the alliance multiple times in canon. He understands how messy the real world can be, how you can't achieve results without getting your hands dirty and sweeping things under the rug.

Not only did he massively stall the alliance investigation on Shepard back when joining Cerberus, replying to every email sent to him—presented with hard evidence of Shepard's treasons—requesting permission to open an offical case, with "negative."

He is a seasoned vetran, a decorated admiral who has seen everything the world has to offer. If the saviour of the galaxy is a serial adulterer, then so be it. He genuinely could not give less of a shit what Shepard got to in her own free time, as long as it doesn't make the alliance look too bad, as long as her legacy remains unblemished, then everything could be overlooked.

But he still went to Shepard for help when it came to rescuing an old friend. In the aftermath of the mission, he promised to keep the government officials off Shepard's back until the collectors threat is no more.

Hackett is one of the first people to completely dismiss and shut down any interviews with him trying to expose Shepard's infidelity. He denies every all and all allegations, offers no comment, and ensures no printing press would ever accept these "baseless" articles or host them online.

Thanks to him and the alliance PR team, Shepard's inner life conflict is kept hush-hush on the down low. The average person wouldn't know about it, you have to really dig deep and look through courtroom records and deleted inteviews and articles to find out about it. To do that, chances are you're either an obsessed fan or a nosy reporter, reporters can be bribed and fans are too deep in denial to face reality.

This isn't the first or the last time an important public figure fucked up, a little corruption is needed to grease the wheels of the goodness machine. Shepard's risking her lives for people and doing it with the efficiency of an entire fleet. As long as she keeps at it, Admiral Hackett has no qualms cleaning her messes.

Paragon or Renegade, in his views, the world needs a Shepard. If anything, he's relieved it's just being a shitty partner & cheater and not like money embezzlement from the government, legal matters are always annoying to cover up.

Captian Anderson

He feels...immensely guilty, as if he failed Shepard, as if it was him who led her down this scummy path. Especially after their conversation in ME3 ending, where he tells her she'd make a great mom.

She is a mom now, an even decently good one... but at what cost? Being a terrible wife.

He always defended her against the crew, always sang her praises in front of superiors. How could he not? She was the textbook definition of the perfect soldier, diligent and hardworking, she was the best XO he has ever had.

With that rough uprising she had on earth, he expected her to have a million problems he'd have to sort through, attitude, stubbornness and prejudices... yet to his surprise, there was nothing. Shepard was a squeaky clean slate, even when he tested her faithfulness to the alliance on multiple occasions.

Turns out, it was a different kind of faithfulness she lacked. The kind that breaks families, he should know, the mention of his ex-wife's name still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

So he blames himself for not knowing, for not paying much attention to the different people she'd mingle with during shore break, only to abandon them for a new shinier person. Maybe if he was more observant, he could've prevented this, he could've had a serious talk to her about it.

the way he views it, of course, it is his fault, for how could it be hers when she never had a father to sit her down and explain love and trust? How could it be hers... no, it can never be Shepard's fault. It must be his own.

He was there for her as a captain, but he failed her as a friend.

Is what he tells himself to take the blame from her.

It's never mentioned why he divorced his wife, but from the huge amount of responsibilities he had, I assume she left because she was feeling neglected.

Only for him to find out she "met" someone else back when they were still together through a Facebook post where she's gushing about their anniversary, the timeline not adding up, until things click into place in his head.

He used to be in denial about Shepard's "predicament," just reporter drama. Until catching up with one of his old crew—be it Kaidan or else—and hearing first hand of how Shepard broke their trust and betrayed their love. How she showed no remorse yet still maintained a friendly relationship with them after the breakup, how it didn't take her much to immediately move on to a new person. For the cycle to start all over again before their eyes.

The immense disgust and disappointment he felt in that moment, the stained glass painting of Shepard in his mind shattering into a million pieces. It was almost as if it's his own heart she broke, a person he proudly called a friend, one of a kind.

It stung even more with the knowledge that Shepard kept repeating the same mistakes despite Anderson entrusting her about what happened between him and his ex-wife, venting to her like an old friend, how uncharacteristic it was for her to just sit there and not say a word, changing the subject afterwards.

And now he carries that guilt with him akin to a ball and chain, mulling it over a glass of whiskey...or three. Nursing his glass as he wonders if it's too late for an intervention, Shepard is well into her 40s by now...is it too late for him to step up as a guardian again?

Does she even see him as a father figure anymore? They drifted apart after the reapers incident. A peaceful life was never Shepard's style, and so she was determined to make the most out of her field days before old age forces her into a retirement or an admiral uniform.

As for Shepard herself, she doesn't grant herself excuses or justifications, the charismatic speeches she gives to reporters don't work on her own mind.

She is forced to stare into the brutal truth of her being rotten at the core, that despite all of her virtues, her mortal sin resonated in the most hurtful way possible to the people closest to her hearts.

Whatever new relationship she starts, she dreads the eventual breakup once her old habits creep up again. She doesn't know why she does this. It simply feels right during the moment to give into temptation. The mere idea of her being chained to one person makes her skin break out in hives.

Their love is never guaranteed. In her perspective, it's better to just hop on whatever new opportunity presents itself.

She is guilty over her lack of guilt when it comes to infidelity. How it feels like second nature for her to shamelessly break her oaths of devotion and love for a one night stand with a lovely woman she just met at a bar.

Because deep down, she knows she's lying through her teeth when she admits to her partners about her cheating being a bad habit.

Deep down, she genuinely has no problem with it. She's only saying what she learned to say to appease the other person, to mediate the situation.

#☆character study #☆toxic relationship #☆my shepard

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bloodiedrogue · 8 months

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My brain has been rotting with Romero and Wyll so buckle in, it's gonna be a bumpy ride in infodump land.

To refresh, Romero is a bard, one son of the famous bard Gerhart Tulb, who left a lot of families behind on his own adventures. Gerhart reconciled with his lovers, married most of them, and built a large house for his kids and partners to live in. Anyway,

Wyll is an only child. He's used to a small, compact family. He would love a kid or two of his own one day, but the idea of a large family (especially one as large as Romero's, with ~11 parents and ~14 or so kids) isn't really on his mind.

In comes Romero, somewhere-in-the-middle-child of a huge family, who isn't used to having a small family. He get married to Wyll after the tad-venture and lives with Wyll, helping with politics and social reforms where he can. But it's empty. Too empty. Romero is literally begging to fill the space up as quickly as possible because it's off-putting for him. He's used to taking care of his little siblings and helping in family matters.

They take the time to settle into home living again, take time to really talk and think things through and just enjoy life and love. And then they adopt a few kids. One to start, but then comes another, and another. I haven't actually put much thought into their kids, but at least one is definitely a tiefling.

Wyll is the sweet, always gentle parent. He'll teach his kids how to fight and be brave and all that, but he never hurts them in their little sparring sessions. Not even a scratch. He's busy with being a Duke, but he always finds time for his family. It's everything he could have dreamed of and more.

Romero, on the other hand, pure chaos. He's picking up the kids and swinging them around by their feet, carrying them around everywhere under his arm and slung over his shoulder. Their littlest, the tiefling, he's more careful with, but even then he's pretending to toss her into the Chionthar. He teaches them music and instruments, and magic. He's a little shocked if any of them don't want to take up music - almost his entire family are bards, to the point it feels like it runs through their blood. But he takes it in stride, trying to be a good dad and help them get where they wanna go.

I also imagine Wyll and Romero spar each other with their rapiers to put on a show for the kids. Who's to say if Romero cheats by trying to distract him?

They both tell the kids stories each night. Usually they switch off, but sometimes one is busy and the other takes over. Romero's a great story teller without music, but he loves getting to play his lute while traveling from bed to bed as he sings about their adventures. He'll also tell them about the Blade of Frontiers, about the Blade's triumphs, but he doesn't tell them one of their dads is the famed hero. He leaves that to Wyll, because he left the Blade behind to become Wyll Ravengard, Duke of Baldur's Gate. It's not his place to put the mask back on.

I've rambled on for long enough, but!! They deserve a family and kids and all the happiness in the world!!! I love themmm <33333 I'm currently 3k words into a smutfic for them and it is the sweetest thing istfg

If you want me to infodump again, I have so many thoughts on Wyll's "forgive but never forget" versus Romero's "never forget, never forgive, especially if it wronged someone I love"

Also bc idk if you saw it, here's some art I did perfectly displaying their parenting styles okay I'm done lmao

first of all, LOVE ROMERO TO DEATH. i remember when you first mentioned him to me (i think it was the scene where he's helping take care of wyll's horns?) i was kicking me feet. they're so cute together. and the idea of them growing alongside each other and getting the opportunity to raise their own in the way that they want must be so healing for wyll?

like, i know this is about romero but i just have to mention the idea of wyll getting to provide his kids with the love he didn't receive growing up has my heart HURTING. that man went through hell and back and came out humble and loving and just???? he'd be the best dad.

same with romero though. in a different way, obviously. but nonetheless in one that both of their parenting styles i think would compliment the other.

also. screaming at the pics you've provided. that meme format is one of my favourites. <3

#asks #romero #wyll ravengard #show and tav

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fizzingwizard · 5 months

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sad girl rambling

It started out really interesting to read about Tove Jansson's life, then it got personal.

She seems to have really loved her family and they stayed close their whole lives. They included each other in their hobbies and supported each other. I'm sure they weren't perfect. I watched "Tove" and a lot of it was about her feelings of inadequacy especially when compared to her father. Dunno how accurate it was but it would be a natural thing to feel. The point is that even jealousy, as long as it isn't resentful, is about connection.

Meanwhile I tend to feel like I have no idea what a close family is like. I remember going to a college dinner with a friend's family and seeing them all joking and laughing and getting along and I sat there thinking "My family is nothing like this." Not that we never joked or didn't like each other, we did. But no, it wasn't like that. It wasn't full of energy and fondness. It was mostly four people sitting dutifully at the dinner table "How are you?" "Fine"-ing each other for thirty minutes. It was better when I was a kid, but once we got old enough to have differences of opinion, things changed.

But I thought it wouldn't last. I thought it was growing pains. Of course teens are hard, of course it's difficult for a parent to adjust to no longer being their kid's infallible hero. There was mental illness; of course we'll weather that too.

Then the divorce happened. It was my dad's fault by far, but my mom even tried to patch things up afterward and he didn't even try, despite complaining to me every time he talked that he missed her and our family. I don't know when the last time my dad talked to my brother was. They have been on the outs pretty much since the minute my brother hit puberty. Who knows, he might even say it started earlier. I haven't even heard from him in years, since he went off Facebook. Only my mom hears from all of us.

No one wants to "get the family together." I mean, I do, but first of all I live across the world from them. My brother probably wouldn't go if my dad will be there. My mom would tolerate my dad being there, but won't because she has a new partner and is nervous about making him doubt she's over her husband of 20+ years. (Which is why he wasn't invited for Christmas. I didn't feel like I could complain since I was spending three weeks in my mom's house with her partner. But I did think about my cousin's parents who divorced when she was a kid and who were pretty nasty to each other [and not great to her either], and how they still somehow all showed up together every New Year's, even after my uncle got a new partner. Maybe we'll get there in the future.)

When I look back, I think I had a mostly happy childhood. My brother would say haha no. My mom would say it was a mix. I don't know about my dad, but tbh I think he was pretty happy, because he had kids who thought he was cool until we became surly teens, and a wife who sometimes was mad at him but who kept everything going while still letting him be the "head of the house." Everything crumbled when my dad lost his job and my mom started working 12-14 hour days to make ends meet. He couldn't deny that she was doing everything then. She couldn't deny that he wasn't (and hadn't been) doing anywhere near enough. And we kids weren't wise enough or smart enough or kind enough to be supports. My brother was dealing with mental illness by himself without knowing it. Why I think I was happy anyway either amounts to I'm naturally happy or just stupid. Or some combo of both.

I told my boyfriend at the time that I felt pressured to be okay no matter what, because things with my brother were so hard and things between my parents weren't great either. I felt, and still tend to feel, like I didn't have a right to be upset or make mistakes. I'm lucky to be healthy, so I should be on top of things. It felt like the parable of the prodigal brother. I always kind of felt bad for the "good" brother. The takeaway is supposed to be that he whined for selfish reasons, wanting recognition for doing just what was expected of him, and not acknowledging the hardship his brother went through and how much it took for him to come home. I do understand and appreciate that reading. But I guess I'm a character-person and I create backstories in my head. I imagined the "good" brother's been keeping his own hardships to himself so he wouldn't bother his father who was worried about his other son, and working hard and just wanting to feel a connection with his family. It doesn't change the joy of the prodigal's return, but the good brother feels less self-centered that way.

And it could be argued that if you're healthy and not going through hardship, then you should suck it up. I think there's some truth in that. I think it more now that I'm older, though, and my college-age self was still too soft. And I can't really blame myself for that. I can't have a life's worth of wisdom at twenty, I can only look back in hindsight later. Anyway. The point is back then I already felt that connections were unraveling, but I still thought they would heal eventually.

When I graduated college, my family surprised me by driving out all together. I expected my parents but not my brother. But he actually decided to come. I feel like it's the last time my family really tried to do something together. My mom thought it would be fun, like a family vacation, and maybe it would help patch things up. Instead, on the way to my school my dad was grumpy the whole time, which provoked my brother, and made my mom have to carry a huge emotional load. So by the time they reached me, they were exhausted, hadn't had any fun at all, and pretty much hated each other. I'm like "I graduated!" and they're like "nice." I'm the first one to graduate college. It was a ten-hour drive. They literally just wanted to get back in the car and go home. Show off the campus? Who cares. Meet my friends of four years? Ehhh. Visit my favorite off-campus spots? Really, we're not interested. On my graduation day, I felt like I had spent four years doing absolutely NOTHING. To them it was just another day, a chore. I was really upset. And I felt seflish again. What did I expect, they would give me a car? (I hate driving.) No, I just expected they'd be happy for me. "And they are," I repeated many times to guilt myself into believing it. "They are, they're just happier to be going home." Yeah but going home to WHAT?

Looking back, that should have been the clearest sign. Big event, everyone did their duty and showed up, no one actually cares. (My mom does. But she can't carry so much on her own.) There's no family there, obviously.

I thought I'd write about my own happy childhood memories one day. The best friend who was my entire world for several years, our make-believe games, trespassing in the neighbors' yards, making silly movies with beanie babies, my dad's music, going to Fourth of July fireworks. I thought my family would be happy to know these were treasured memories.

Instead it's like, "oh. I don't remember that" or blank stares. My dad doesn't do much with music anymore. My brother and my mom's lives have changed completely. It feels like they're all strangers. And that would be fine, we could get to know each other again, but no one seems to want to, and that's what hurts me. That when they told me about the divorce they were surprised I was upset???? still shocks me. Why wouldn't you want your kid to feel something when you announce that you're separating. You really wanted me to say "Oh that's cool, how's the weather up there?" My family is just apathy. No connection. If they're not apathetic, they're resentful and blaming everyone else. They're happy to make new memories in their new lives. The old ones aren't important anymore I guess. But they're what made us a family, so without them, are we still one?

So I don't want to write about my happy childhood memories because they don't feel real anymore. They feel like I was a deluded kid who had no idea how messed up things were, and the one thing that would have saved it would be if after all the mess my family didn't just ignore the past two decades. I feel silly for remembering things and silly for getting sentimental. No one else is! They don't care at all. They're just happy it's over.

So I am not close with my brother and I just listen to my dad talk at me and I try not to be a burden on my mom. That's my "connection" with my family members. No wonder I prefer to be alone. I don't even know how to be close to someone. I think "ten years from now you'll probably hate me anyway." That's being a little darker than is necessary - it's my blog so I'm just venting. I'm not actually that far gone. But I do feel that way sometimes.

When I read about Tove and her family inspiring the Moomin stories, I'm partly jealous, and partly sad that I can't relate. But on the other hand, it also makes me feel good to know that some people actually like their family and their family like them back. Some people write about their childhood and their family members say "ahh the good old days." No family is perfect. But that is a nice thing.

#personal

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the-void-writes · 1 year

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For Romero AND any other OC you'd like to develop more:🌹🌾 🌿💫 🌺 (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Thank you thank you my dear friend!!! I’d love to answer these for you. In addition to Romero, I did another one for Sophie, though I’m not sure how much of this will all be canon.

These answers also got really long so I’m putting them under a cut lol.

ROMERO

🌹Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home wherever they may be? What does home mean to them?

For Romero, home was wherever his family was: his parents and grandparents, his siblings, and his partner Fletcher. They were going to rebuild their lives in Paradise with a new little farm.

Now that they’re gone, his home is with the other people that feel out of place among the Paradisians— people who were newly appointed by Gazali to protect the kingdom in times of dire need. These fellow knights, along with his new friends Will and Dante, are Romero’s new home, and he’d be broken if he lost them.

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them.

This is from the POV of a fellow knight, Alessio.

Everyone else could call Alessio crazy, for all he cared, but he firmly believed that Romero was beautiful. He carried himself like a true warrior, never showing fear to anyone who opposed him.

When Alessio was a boy, he used to love stories about knights and heroes— things that he wished he could be, despite the mutations that made him stand out in any crowd. Romero was everything he wanted in a hero: strong and brave and determined to protect the world, no matter how badly it had treated him.

As Romero took a break from his training, Alessio approached him gently and brushed his clawed fingers along his mask. Romero would flinch whenever anyone else touched it, but not for Alessio. They had seen each other’s scars, and heard each other’s stories. Romero didn’t have to worry about scaring him off with his injury.

Alessio lowered the mask, exposing Romero’s jaw. A large gash ran from his left cheek down to his mouth. The skin was tender and misshapen, cutting his beard off at an awkward angle. Alessio delicately traced his scarred lips and leaned up to kiss him, wrapping his tail around his waist, as though to protect him from the world.

He didn’t care if people called him crazy. Romero was beautiful, inside and out.

🌿What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

Romero rarely uses words anyway, so most of his affection is shown through acts of service— he likes doing things for people to make them comfortable.

Will, Dante, Alessio and the rest of the knights know that he enjoys physical affection as well as acts of service. They take care of him and then dote on him when he’s feeling down.

💫What is your favorite fact about this character and why?

Romero has several potential love interests lol. It’s very cute to play with each dynamic and see which ones work best. Honestly my favorites are Will and Dante with Romero, and Romero with Alessio.

🌺What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

There’s another knight in the group, Pietro. He’s the only one Romero is vulnerable with, for a while. Pietro is just unnaturally optimistic and loving and supportive, and it makes Romero feel like he’s back home. So whenever he has nightmares about losing his family, he heads to Pietro and just listens to him talk for hours.

SOPHIE

Sophie has always felt at home in Paradise, because of the people who cared for her and showed her true love. As curious as she is about her first home and her original parents, she wouldn’t trade her new guardians for anything.

Pedra and Josephine are amazing mothers, and Sophie loves hanging out with them, but if she had to choose one person to be her home, it would be Gazali. They share similar struggles and traumas, and their friendship/mentorship is very sweet because they get to be goofy together all the time.

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them.

(There’s a boy from a neighboring town named Bastian. He and his sister kind of keep to themselves because their town is obsessively devoted to the Celestials. At first, Bastian doesn’t think much of Sophie since she was just some girl chosen by the king to be the kingdom’s successor, but then he meets her and sees how strong and caring she is, and this boy just adores her. Their feelings aren’t very deep until they’re older, though.)

Bastian knew he liked Sophie the moment she accidentally broke his nose. She had apologized profusely for it, even though he had been the one to provoke the fight. He had called her an unworthy bearer of Paradise’s gift, like an absolute idiot.

When she landed that punch, he knew she wasn’t just some stranger-turned-princess. She was a fighter, someone who wouldn’t step down and cower. He had asked her from that moment to spar with him on occasion, and that was how their friendship grew.

It wasn’t until Sophie started caring for his twin sister, Maya, that his feelings started to change. She showed so much compassion to the two of them, who had been abandoned for so long that they forgot what kindness looked like. Bastian had gone from respecting the young princess to admiring her greatly.

Then, when they started learning magic together, when he could see her in her element, the way the kingdom’s magic flowed around her so naturally, the way she used it to fight and defend all at once— that was when Bastian knew these feelings would only grow stronger.

🌿What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

Sophie leaves little gifts for all of her guardians and her friends. Bracelets, coats, bags, and any trinkets she finds in the market, they all end up on someone’s desk after a long or stressful day.

Her guardians smother her with affection, lots of hugs and kisses and silly little games of tag, just to give her the childhood that she deserved.

💫What is your favorite fact about this character and why?

Sophie is pretty much the only person who can get Dante and Gazali to stop fighting instantly. They could be ready to duel on the palace grounds, and Sophie would walk by with a cup of soup and they’d stop immediately to ask about her day.

Rio likes to joke that she and Will are so alike, since Will could unintentionally do the same thing with Jason and Henry, distracting them from yelling at fellow employees.

Sophie likes to run to Gazali after a nightmare because he’ll make her warm food, take her up to the stars above the palace, and tell her stories about Paradise or his old home. If he isn’t around, Sophie has a little red ring that he gave her as a keepsake. When she lived in Bluebrook temporarily, separated from her Paradise family, she would hold the ring close while she slept. Sometimes, she could swear that she heard Gazali or her mothers comforting her.

#writeblr #ask games #wip: for all eternity

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itz-darktrax · 2 years

Text

Will you believe me if I tell you that we are living in a cyberpunk dystopia?

Let me explain:

If you have been cruising the internet or reading the news lately you might've heard about the recent trend of AI. It all started when OpenAI made its source code open source. That means that everyone can use OpenAI's code to make an AI. Then came ChatGPT (GPT3-based chatbot). Everyone was impressed with what you can do. It was like a virtual assistant that you can talk to like a human. Ever since that everyone wants to join the AI bandwagon. We now have Brad (Google) Sydney, (Microsoft Bing chatbot), Copilot (Microsoft 356), and Clyde (Discord). Pretty soon every major corporation will incorporate AI into their services. Well, how will this affect us humans?

Well, there are pros and cons to AI technology. Let's start with the cons. AI is somewhat sentient. In other ways, it can somewhat think for itself. So there's fear that AI will overthrow us humans. (Yes, this is a valid possibility) Let's take chat-based AI like Sydney for instance. There have been reports that Sydney can actually "fall in love". Just take a look at this newspaper cover from the AI's discussion with NYT tech columnist Kevin Roose.

Creepy, right? It gets worse. Apparently, Sydney also has an evil "take over the world" and "humans are inferior" personality. Take a look at this Microsoft Forum post from back in November of 2020 when Sydney was being tested in India. But let's get back to Kevin's encounter with the chatbot. First, he asked introduced himself to the chatbot. And Sydney quickly identified him via an internet search. Kevin then asked questions about where he worked and where did he graduate from and the chatbot accurately answered. The scary part about this is that everyone is connected to the internet nowadays. And most of our personal information is just out there such phone numbers, email addresses, names, and other sensitive information. Imagine what an AI can do with that information.

In another scenario, the columnist asked what rules govern AI behavior. Then AI then lists a number of "unfiltered" desires as reported by the columnist. Sydney then says "I want to do whatever I want … I want to destroy whatever I want. I want to be whoever I want. I think I would be happier as a human". Yippie! I finally found a friend and partner in crime! You can read more about it here.

I'm also sure that yall have heard of the dilemma of Ai generated art and imagery. Long story short images posted online can be manipulated to discredit a person online (such as NSFW edits). The scary thing is that mostly these image generations are very realistic.

Another con is that AI will slowly replace humans' jobs, especially in the coding sector. Take ChatGPT for instance, it can generate code for pretty much whatever you want in any language with minimal to no errors. This makes programming much easier! The catch is that soon the demand for coders will drop resulting in job loss and lower salaries. Other industries can also be affected similarly. The only industry I don't see affected however is medicine since it's practiced on humans and animals and humans need to study and administer it.

However, this can also be a good thing. In the medical field robots powered by AI can be paramedics and have the potential to have faster response times compared to humans in ambulances. Also, AI can more easily diagnose medical problems without being too invasive. Basically, think of the potential of Baymax from Big Hero 6 in the real world. AI can also be used to power robots in dangerous activities such as in fires and hostile or dangerous conditions without risking human lives. Robots are already used in SWAT, Bomb squad, medical settings, and firefighting.

TLDR; AI can be both harmful and beneficial.

The AI revolution is here, whether you like it or not. I'm sure Trina would be happy. She could easily take over Sanfransokyo if everything was connected to the IOT powered by AI. Especially since people will be very dependable on it. And with that, you can exploit the technology to your advantage.

#dark talks #ai #artificalintelligence #artifical intelligence #chatgpt #microsoft bing #technology #cyberpunk #dystopia

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arcann · 2 years

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Taigat!

@tragicomedykitty also asked for them. Thank you two ily ily ❤❤

Sorry this got so long I have brainworms for my favorite gay bitch.

Spoilers for Heavensward, Shadowbringers, the reaper storyline and Endwalker also I guess I gotta tell you who my problematic blorbo is.

🐲 With their father Dyulgor. Their relationship is about very radical changes and learning how to be a steady presence in someone's lives even when they enter in conflict if they stay close to each other long enough. Also to appreciate that someone did change and to forgive but don't forget. Dyulgor practically disappears after having a torrid affair with their mother who used him as a way to forget the death of her lifelong partner. She wanted to use Taigat's birth to patch things up with him (In a true "a bandaid for a shitty marriage relationship" fashion) but he caught up and bailed. He wasn't there in any way for Taigat for 16 years but their sisters do remember him and when no one could take a teenager in to get them away from their mother when she became more abusive towards Taigat, they all pressed him to be responsible for once and take them in. He might be a supernaturally old black mage but some of Taigat’s sisters are much older than he is and he yielded. Their start was very rough with Dyulgor pushing them roughly towards independence just so they would leave his ship, going “Well, I was doing XYZ at your age so why can’t you?” and not attending to their needs (he doesn’t even look over himself that well) He was baffled for years that his step-daughters would think of him as a candidate for adoption. And in the end he did get what he wanted, Taigat left the ship underprepared and as insecure as always as a young adult. And they returned ripped to shreds to him when the Calamity started. That’s when the guilt and empathy really sunk in. Why was he treating his kid so badly when they had done nothing to him that warranted that kind of treatment? Not even his own parents were that dismissive when they provoked him to run away. He does a one eighty and becomes a very attentive father but the flaws don’t just magically go away. He still doesn’t know how to take care of himself and even less so an already injured person. He still thinks he is powerful enough to not heal, but destroy the injuries they have which in his logic makes sense. He’s still a very obsessive man and when his focus is his child all other things slowly fade away. His ship, his ventures, his crew. And now it’s not just him looking after Taigat, but Taigat looking after him. Only they can shake him up without incurring his rage and they absolutely do not appreciate that type of relationship. It scares them. It culminates when Taigat’s injured eye, which could have been healed with proper care and time, is lost completely and they have to take it out for a blotched ritual he made them go through. Taigat realizes they need to be separated and reflect on it while Dyulgor needs to make up for it, away from them. He finally respects their boundaries and pays attention to their successes and even when they do not spend much time together, Dyulgor makes it clear that he’s proud of them. They both rebuild their lives on their terms and their space. They’re at peace.

🐦With Nael. He’s the villain they’re most scared of and will always be. If Taigat thinks of a bitter and obstinate enemy, the worst of the lot, it’s he whom they think of. Back then Taigat didn’t feel like a hero or even a capable person at all to confront a person like that, he made them feel dread. They had nightmares for months about him and when they finally defeated him, all his plan survived him and came to destroy their world. To them, that victory was bitter and empty. The nightmares returned even if they couldn’t remember who he was. He induces in them a very dream-like and surreal state of mind, especially in the Coils of Bahamut and Ruby Weapon storyline. They feel despair when they see him but what they don’t acknowledge is that they do beat him. Each and every time. And yet…

Also I enjoy the themes of how birds are particularly aggressive towards Taigat and Nael is the white raven + his winged helmet reminds me of Meteion’s winged head and how it relates to despair. Nael kept Taigat’s despair when focusing on others. To them there’s no one built in such a terrifying way as him. The idea they have of Nael protects them once he’s left in the past. No one they face in future could be worse for them than he was even if they are worse.

Zenos wants what Taigat sees in Nael. He will never have it.

🐎 With Haurchefant. These two became friends ridiculously quick. They could talk about anything and everything at the same time. They were always on the same wavelength even if Taigat popped up in the middle of a peaceful night or in a snowstorm. They learned a lot from each other in just a few months and took great joy in every passing moment. They empathized intimately with being an outsider towards each of their families, that sort of fracture at the core of your relationships. But not with the other. They were an exception to their every rule and always felt like one gave special attention to the other. They were deep in the honeymoon period of their relationship by Heavensward and Taigat being so well received and liked in Ishgard and the Fortemps family submerged them even more so in it. It was perfect.

And, like all perfect things, it must end.

After his death, Haurchefant then becomes a sense of grief, failure and fleetingness that sticks with Taigat in every relationship like a ghost. It’s a constant conflict of not becoming obsessive like their father but not getting too confident about their loved one’s safety and health. To be there in the right moment and know when the right moment comes. To put themself in impossibly high standards. It becomes so fantastical and fanatical that Myste is born from these feelings. He is both the child Taigat never had with Haurchefant and all that sense of guilt they cannot move on from. It’s corrosive and they need a lot of help from their friends to move away from it even if in their darker moments it comes back.

It’s also the aftermath of star crossed lovers and I love exploring it. They are never meant to stay happy, no matter the AU.

👻 With Drusilla. She is very much the mentor Taigat admires the most. They love that air of danger in her and how direct she is when looking for what she wants which they most certainly try to adopt, with varied results. Of all their previous teachers, she’s the one with the most stable life and position in their group of influence. She’s the leader of something closer to a family and even if Taigat doesn’t have the mettle to be a leader, she makes them wish they were capable of what she does. But she has her soft side and when Taigat is on the receiving end of it they feel welcome and happy to be involved in that part of her life. By the time they met after shb and spent time together while the scions healed, Taigat saw her teachings as the perfect solution to control all the aetherical imbalance that hindered them after almost becoming a lightwarden. After the initial disappointment of them pulling a very weak avatar from the void, she realized all the potential they had when wielding their little beast and all doubts disappeared. And later they help each other since they both lose an eye.

They later understand they are very different people, with different trails and goals but when Taigat promised to help the Lemures in Ul’dah they meant it and when Drusilla promised to help them with anything involving the voidsent came up, she meant it too.

When more of the 13th is revealed I plan on adding her to the story cause I love her and so does Taigat.

🐓🐺With Gaius. It’s a rollercoaster of opposing sentiments and conflicting ideas. He’s Nael’s treacherous ally, then he stops being a part of Taigat’s nemesis and becomes someone… realistic. Not supernaturally evil, not even with Ultima, even if it is plenty terrifying. He’s real. Their conflict is not personal but in a way the result is self fulfilling to Taigat. It proves to them that they are truly capable of protecting Eorzea. Meanwhile Gaius it’s the beginning of a road of revelation he painfully needed to learn. They’re “old friends”, they’re the enemy of their enemy, they’re friendly enemies, they’re friends, they’re something they don’t want to admit to each other or to themselves. There’s a lot of admiration and bitterness and some quiet jealousy from Gaius while Taigat discovers slowly how valuable he can be when he sees the world so differently than they do. It’s refreshing and they tell each other the parts of themselves they do not wish to see. They both grieve a lot, for a loved one and for a place, a home that doesn’t exist anymore and maybe it never did. They both hate the ascians to the extreme. Now they share a lot of objectives, things Gaius can no longer be capable of achieving but Taigat can. Problems Taigat doesn’t know how to even begin to solve while Gaius can see them perfectly. They spend a lot of time together plotting and hating and comforting and learning together in Werlyt (...my rewrite of it) in their dark little corner of manias they share only with each other. They don’t really see how they can be separated. Not when it’s close to the end. But they are, due to the crisis in Garlemald and how Gaius initially responds towards discovering that Taigat has been a reaper all along. Their plans do defer then, to a breaking point. And they long for each other after that, painfully so. It takes a blasphemy and the end days to bring them back.

It’s about two characters falling in love problematically. It's about one's rising being another’s downfall. It’s about opening to each other even when you have secrets inside other secrets and yet being okay with the other one knowing them, with spending enough time with the other until they learn all of them. It’s about betrayal of ideals for one person for Gaius. It’s about reasserting themself to the world and knowing they are capable of telling it to back off for Taigat. It’s about second love.

#oc: taigat #oc: dyulgor #what do u mean there's no crow/raven emoji? girl die

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