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imagine-darksiders · 2 years

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Eden's Heir - Chapter 1

Worm-holes.

Strife x Reader. War x Reader Summary: A wedding day is supposed to be the most magical day of any bride's life. But even a on a perfect day, accidents can occur. Time and space can tear themselves open, at just the right moment, to send you spinning into a world of giants and demons and angels who struggle to believe that you're a human, because humans are not like you. Of course they're not - you're 40,000 years removed from them, sucked into a faulty worm-hole and spat out in the past, on another plane of existence. The Universe, after all, was never created to be free of imperfections, and not even a Creator is without flaws.

---

The lone, black taxi trundles lazily to a stop just outside the church gates, the purr of its engine rolling across a quiet graveyard and disturbing one, solitary crow from its perch atop a crumbling headstone.

Poised awkwardly inside the cab, stuffed in alongside an excessive amount of taffeta silk and lace, you gaze through the window, watching the crow flap into the air and soar away from the churchyard with enviable ease.

If only it were that simple for you.

“Here we are then, Miss! Ope, soon to be Missus,” the cab driver announces, twisting his mirror down to catch your eye in the rear-view, “Couldn't've asked for better weather, eh? When I married my old lady, it was piddlin' down.”

You can't deny he's right about the weather. Your fiancee, Cain, had chosen this Saturday in early September, and the cloudless sky that hangs above the pretty, sandstone church seems to bathe the whole world in warm, comforting azure.

There's no wind either - a stroke of luck that will no doubt please your soon-to-be mother-in-law if she insists on wearing that wide-brimmed, ostentatious hat atop her perm.

“I'm sure it was lovely, regardless,” you reply absently, straining to reach over layer upon layer of ruffled train to reach the little window divider and slide a fifty through the slot, “Here. Keep the change.”

The cabbie swivels about in his seat, taking the proffered note and giving it a quick once-over before he lets out a long, slow whistle. “You sure, Miss? Meter only says thirty five!”

Leaning back in your seat, you turn to face the outer window again, peering through the glass at the uneven, cobblestone path that will inevitably lead you to your groom.

Painted lips tug up into a rueful smile and you tell the driver, “Trust me, I'd rather give you a fifty than spend five hundred hiring a Fiat from some guy who slapped a white bow on the bonnet and called it a wedding car.”

At that, the cabbie throws his head back and lets out a loud bark of laughter, exclaiming “Economical! Your fella's a lucky man!”

You bite back the instinctive urge to impress upon him that you're the lucky one, really.

“Go get 'im then, love!” he exclaims, casting a final glance at you over his shoulder, “And try not to look so nervous, yeah? This is the most magical day of your life!”

Perfectly manicured fingers slide around the door handle and you pause just long enough to toss the driver a tenuous grin before pushing open the door and letting the excessive train of your wedding dress all but explode out of the confined space you've bundled it into.

You have to brace both hands on the open doorway in order to haul yourself out onto the pavement, grunting in a decidedly unladylike manner from the effort. But once you're out, the poise returns, you step away from the taxi and begin languidly rearranging your wedding dress, feeling in no particular hurry to begin your march. White silk sparkles in the bright autumn sunlight and a full length skirt cascades down to the floor in a waterfall of layers and embroidered tulle. It's quite beautiful - as well it ought to be with your own mother at the helm, dressing you up in the sort of extravagance you wouldn't have even glanced at if not for her.

But, she'd offered to pay the dress's rental fee and... well... it is a Westwood....

Cain will no doubt be impeccably dressed, as always, standing at the alter beside the best man in his tailored, black suit, sending a winning smile out at the throng of guests who have crammed themselves inside the church. You imagine there'll be an eclectic myriad of people attending, from his extensive family and friends to a handful of your own relatives, and four bridesmaids, all hand-picked, of course, by the Maid of Honour – Cain's sister.

They're all lovely girls, from what you could tell in the little time you've actually spent with them.

Your new sister-in-law is.... wilful. But she was good enough to appoint herself your Maid of Honour, ultimately saving you the trouble of having to choose one yourself, so you should really be grateful. She'd also been so kind as to pick out the flower arrangements for you, and you'll admit, during the rehearsal, the church's interior had looked absolutely stunning with black dahlias and vibrant, yellow carnations winding around the pillars and pews with loose petals scattered across the glistening, marble aisle.

Behind you, the taxi revs its engine and sputters away, leaving you to stand by yourself at the gates, twisting your engagement ring around and around on your finger, casting little flecks of light across the ground when the sun shine through the sizeable diamond sitting inside the band.

You take a moment to lament the absence of your father, but the hospital staff had made it quite clear that if he were to remove his IV lines and pumps to walk you down the aisle so soon after a stroke, he might not live long enough to see the vows. Your father had been willing to risk it. You, however, were not. Oh, certainly, it would have been lovely to have him hand you over to Cain, if only so you don't have to enter that church alone. You can live without that particular tradition, while your father might very well lose his life carrying it out, the stubborn old bastard.

Clenching your jaw, you draw in a lungful of fresh air, hoping against hope that it might be enough to clear away the heavy clouds fogging up your brain.

Your father's illness aside, everything is so, so close to perfect. Any bride would call it a win. Any bride would be lucky to have a wedding day like the one you're about to have, and any bride would be over the moon to marry a man like Cain Cox -Valedictorian, entrepreneur, home-owner and eventual heir to his father's lucrative business.

You're lucky.

You should feel lucky...

… Frankly though, you'd probably feel luckier if a pigeon flew by and dumped all over your nice, shiny wedding dress.

You're the only thing about this wedding that isn't perfect.

You're the freckle marring the day's otherwise spotless complexion.

You're the feckless idiot who can hardly stomach the idea of walking down that detestable aisle to say 'I do,' to your own fiancée.

But it's too late to back out now. So, with your heart pounding against your ribcage like a prisoner beating the bars of their cell, you begin to wobble your way up the uneven, graveyard path on your dainty heels, reaching up to flick your veil down over your face.

Perhaps you can muster a smile before you reach the alter.

Your fingers twist apprehensively around the strap of a silver bag that you plan on leaving somewhere near the entrance to retrieve later. Every step that brings you closer to the church feels like walking towards the precipice of a bottomless pit, which you're fairly sure isn't a feeling that brides are supposed to have on their Big Day.

Halfway up the path, you catch movement ahead in the large, wooden doorway.

One of the ushers has been watching for you, and he's just just dashed inside, no doubt signalling your imminent arrival.

Sure enough, seconds later, the air is suddenly filled with the melodic, easily-recognisable Wedding March, blasted from a pipe organ sitting high above the narthex inside.

Each resounding chord boxes at your eardrums and you wince as they seem to quiver in your head, leaving you digging your nails into the palms of your hands to refrain from trying to cover your ears.

The church looms over you, casting its great, unassailable shadow across your face, you hear a hush sweep over everything just as you reach the entrance, and then... without missing a step, you simply turn to the left and veer off the well-worn path, your heels sinking into the grass as you retreat past stain-glass windows and disappear underneath the darkness of the bell tower.

'Well, that was unexpected of me,' you muse blankly, tucking yourself in between two pilasters at the rear of the church and slumping down the stone wall until your backside hits the dirt, wide eyes glistening as you stare out across the graveyard beyond. One hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, stifling the rapid, uneven breaths that leave you in gushing bursts. Your other hand, in the meantime, you set on the grass at your side, fingers burrowing aimlessly into the grass and muddying up your perfectly manicured nails.

'Just need some air,' you tell yourself firmly, 'It's pre-wedding jitters... That's all.'

'Jitters...' another part of you scoffs contemptuously. There's cold feet, and then there's the icy crawl of dread that bites at your spine and leaves you feeling vulnerable and frightened and paralysed where you sit, not quite at the stage where you're bursting into tears, but there's a definite sting behind your eyelids that makes you glad you'd elected to wear false lashes over your waterproof mascara.

“God,” you sigh raspingly, peeling your hand away from your mouth and letting your skull thud backwards against the stone behind you, “What the Hell am I doing...?”

You seem to have been asking yourself that same question more and more of late.

Cain is waiting faithfully inside, probably wondering where on Earth you are by now, along with the rest of the wedding party.

Already, you can hear the awkward crunch and slide of heels on gravel.

“Where the HELL are you!?”

Ah. There's his sister, Delilah, likely furious with you for disrupting her brother's big day.

You suppose you deserve her wrath. But right now, you aren't sure you're brave enough to face it.

And isn't that the plain and simple truth?

You're a coward.

You were too cowardly to tell Cain you didn't like him as anything more than a family friend who could only boast that title because his father was an old buddy of your own. You were too cowardly to cause a fuss when he invited you to his mother's sixtieth birthday party and thought it would be a good idea to propose to you as a gift to her, in front of his entire family.

Even now, you can still remember how you told yourself, 'I'll say yes now, and avoid an upset. But later, I'll take him aside and tell him the truth.'

Of course, by the time you'd mustered up enough courage to mention your... reservations, you got a call from your mother.

She'd just heard the news from Delilah.

She sounded so... so happy on the end of your phone. She'd even cried, you seem to recall.

“I've been worried to death about who'll look after you when your father and I are gone,” she'd gushed, unwittingly plunging a white-hot blade into your stomach and giving it a vicious twist. Later, you'd realise that knife had opened you up for panic to get in like a parasite.

“I'm so happy,” she'd added, “Cain is such a good man!”

You heard it often. That seemed to be the general consensus, and the more you heard, the more you found yourself wondering what any of it had to do with him being a good man.

'He works so hard.'

'He has fantastic prospects.'

'He's got money, with a view to come into even more when his parents eventually pass away.'

'He's the perfect match for you!'

… So why couldn't you fall in love with him?

You'd given it the old college try, of course, to appease your family and your peers. And besides, 'sometimes these things take time!'

Well, you'd given it time. You sucked up your reservations, you swallowed down the bile that rose into your throat whenever he kissed you sloppily after a night of drinking whisky with his boys, and you dealt.

The situation only proceeded to get a whole lot worse.

You can't remember who the first person was to mention the pitter-patter of tiny feet, but you know you hate them. So very much because not long afterwards, Cain started talking babies. You hadn't even married the man and he would stroke your belly whilst you lay with your back to him in bed, whispering about how many you were going to give him.

That, at least, you had the guts to shoot down.

“Bit early to start talking kids when I don't even think I want to have any.”

There had been an eerie silence following your reply, hanging over the bedroom like a suffocating cloak of unease.

You couldn't see his face with your back to him, but after a while, you felt his warm breath slide over the shell of your ear and he'd chuckled boyishly, crooning, “Whatever you say, darling.”

You'd hoped your refusal would be a deal-breaker for him. You kept up with it, repeating over and over to anyone who'd listen that you don't want children, always in the hopes that Cain might be the one who calls off the whole marriage and save you the trouble.

The wedding was already looming by the time it really hit you.

He wasn't backing out.

You started to get overwhelmed. You could see a dark, dizzying spiral coiling downwards right in front of your eyes and you were too anxious to do anything about it. You started thinking that while you might not have loved Cain at first, you could grow to love him through even more time and effort. He's a good man, after all, and you'd be an idiot to throw away the security and safety that marriage brings.

Looking back now, while you listen to the crunching footsteps round the side of the church in your direction, you can't be sure you ever really thought it would get this far.

Well. It did, evidently. So, more fool you.

The sight of the church, the sound of the organ drifting out through a heavy, wooden door... it's as if it's only just occurred to you that this is going to happen, and instead of nervous excitement that most brides attest to, your stomach is as cold and barren as an icy tundra.

Oh, you imagine you'll inevitably still go through with this whole debacle. Aloud, you can chalk it up to pre-wedding jitters, you'll get married, and then you'll focus on falling in love with him. There are too many people in that grand, open room to let down if you get cold feet now.

And his family really have sunk a lot of money into this thing.

All that wasted cash doesn't sit right with you at all.

The first tear finally escapes the confines of your eyelid and blazes a trail through the powder on your face.

Resignation, at last, begins to sink in.

This is happening.

“Y/N!” Delilah hollers, so close now that you're certain at any moment you'll catch a strong whiff of that Dolce perfume she seems to favour.

All you need is five minutes to yourself. Just to regain your composure, to get your head back on straight.

To breathe.

But then, this is your fault anyway, isn't it. You should have said something when you had the chance.

Now, you're going to have to lay in a bed of your own making.

And cope.

With a noisy sniffle, you swipe a finger under your eye and flick away a tear before you gather your feet underneath you and heave yourself up onto unsteady legs. All around you, the dress tumbles down in intricate folds and rustles audibly as you take a faltering step forwards, ready to face Delilah's ire and subject yourself to the scrutiny of hundreds.

But in taking that first, tentative step, you suddenly encounter an unforeseen problem.

Your silver heel doesn't even hit the ground.

“Wha-!” is all you manage to blurt before your shout of alarm is cut off and your foot simply disappears through the grass, and never once makes purchase on anything solid beneath it.

It's as though you've stepped off a bridge into thin air. You suddenly find yourself in a disorienting free-fall straight down through the earth that you're certain had been perfectly corporeal only seconds ago.

Nothing about the ground itself has changed. It still looks solid, from the brief glimpse you manage to catch of it as you descend. Instant terror steals the air from your lungs and you desperately throw your arms out to try and catch yourself on an edge of some kind.

It's decidedly odd being able to see a solid object right in front of you, and yet being utterly incapable of placing your hands upon it. Nothing ceases your rapid descent into the very fabric of the Earth.

You choke on a shriek, clamping your eyes shut instinctively when the ground rises up to meet your head...

There's a loud whoosh that sucks your eardrums inside out.... and you pass right on through an invisible worm-hole, into a world of darkness and rushing wind.

------------

There are those who believe wholeheartedly that nothing happens by accident. Every choice and outcome is predetermined by some great, omniscient being or higher power. The Universe, according to some, does not make mistakes.

Those people, sadly, would be wrong.

Sometimes, accidents do happen, even on a cosmic scale, even to space-time itself. Sometimes, there are pockets of magic on Earth that have remained hidden from humanity for thousands of years, portals placed in random locations by a species so ancient that their name has long been lost to history. Sometimes those portals, much like human electricity, can experience an extreme fluctuation, or a power surge.

The Universe, after all, was never created to be free of imperfections, and not even a Creator is without flaws...

---------

The Void....?

'Damn. Why the Hell would Samael whisk us off to such a gloomy in-between?'

The great magic of the demon Prince's portal fizzles and dies out as it closes behind a pair of titanic figures, leaving them stranded and seemingly alone on a vast, floating rock that hangs over a bottomless abyss.

The slightly smaller of the figures straightens up from his hunched position, still caught a little off balance after taking an impromptu trip through the fabrics of time and space.

Strife, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, cranes his helm back to gaze up towards the foreign 'sky,' or lack thereof.

It's all mist, as far as his sharp eyes can see... Just mist and floating rocks that stretch on endlessly into a wide, open nothingness.

“Welcome to the Void,” he drawls sardonically, turning about to check on the youngest yet ironically the largest of his four siblings, and the only one who has accompanied him to this lonely place.

War, an armoured behemoth even by Nephilim standards, is already on his feet with his favoured, blood-red hood pulled low to cast half of his pale face in shadow. Though even that extra effort isn't quite enough to hide the thin, blazing brand that stretches in an arch across his forehead, glowing with a soft light as if there's a layer of searing lava flowing just beneath the surface of his skin in lieu of blood.

If he hadn't already seen War bleed during battle, Strife would probably believe that his brother's insides consist of nothing but the liquid fires of a planet's core.

The Red Rider casts his narrow glare around the plateau they've found themselves stranded upon, and Strife has no doubt that he's scouring their immediate surroundings in search of an ambush, but when he finds nothing waiting to leap out at them from the shadows, his absurdly immense shoulders slowly drain of their tension and his hand twitches away from the grip of the broadsword strapped to his back. Chaoseater's bloodlust will have to be sated another day.

“Samael must have sent us here for a reason,” War announces, his booming voice ricocheting between the islands of stone and echoing back at them several times over.

Strife makes a mental note to yell into the Void later to test that echo, but for now, finding out why they're here takes priority.

Although to be frank, he's not exactly sure how eager he is to meet an associate of Samael's.

“C'mon,” he sighs, resigned, “Let's go find Sammy's pal and see what's what.”

Without another word, which is surprisingly rare in the older rider's case, Strife leads the way across their rocky platform. There doesn't appear to be any clear-cut path around the Void, and though the realm is bathed in a mystifying, if dim teal light, neither Horseman can determine its source when they surreptitiously throw their gazes about, both curious about their unfathomable surroundings, yet neither willing to admit to the fact.

Together, in silence, the brothers make their way along the most obvious 'path,' listening to their heavy footfalls bounce around between the suspended debris until they come upon a short, curved staircase.

Once they ascend to the top and emerge onto another flat, open plateau, Strife abruptly draws to a halt and lets out an obnoxious groan as War clomps up beside him and quirks a slender, white brow down at his fellow Nephilim.

Ahead of them, in the middle of the island, is a wide, circular dais, and at its centre sits a pool filled with some kind of viscous liquid that throws out a brilliant, cerulean glow. Carved into the stone around the pool's edge are foreign symbols, each emanating the same hue, neither Demonic nor Angelic in origin, nor are they reminiscent of the language pertaining to the Old ones.

Strife huffs beneath his silver helm. Death, the eldest of the Four Horsemen, would probably be able to read them... the brainy bastard...

Aloud, he throws his head back and gripes, “Ugh! Serpent Holes... I should've known.” He stomps closer to the humming pool and eyes its placid and shimmering surface distastefully, planting both of his gauntlets squarely on his hips.

“You are familiar with these?” War asks, stepping up next to his brother and sliding his eyes over to the trio of statues that encircle the pool, each depicting massive snakes coiled into a striking pose.

Sighing roughly, Strife drops his chin and grumbles, “Unfortunately, yeah. They belong to a... a guy I've heard of.”

“Samael's associate?” War guesses.

The other Horseman nods in reply. “If so, it sure would explain a few things...”

War's brows draw into an impervious line across his forehead and he gives his brother a serious look, lowering his voice to ask, “Can he be trusted?”

Strife's short bark of laughter leaps out of him before he can swallow it down, earning himself a withering glare from War. The older rider knows exactly why he's asking, but to question whether this guy can be trusted is like questioning if an angel can be funny.

The answer, categorically...?

“Uh no,” he chuckles, clearing his throat, “Absolutely not. In no way possible.”

Rankled from being laughed at, War nonetheless gives a resolute hum of understanding.

“But,” Strife adds as he swivels his helm around pointedly, “I don't see another way out of here. So, what're we waiting for?” With one, gauntleted hand, he gestures to the mill-pond in front of them. “Let's hop in.”

Dubious, War squints down at the puddle, his scowl somehow growing even deeper than its usual profundity as he asks, “Is it our only option?”

Shrugging one of his armoured shoulders, Strife replies, “We could just wait right here...” A pause, and then, “... forever.”

The larger Nephilim's lips purse and he seems to come to a decision rather quickly. Moving aside, War gestures down at the pool with a dismissive flick of his prosthetic wrist. “After you.”

“Such a gentleman,” Strife mutters under his breath, moving closer to the Serpent Hole and sparing it a quick once-over.

These things are a means of travel he's never made use of before. There are supposedly countless portals just like this one, spread across every corner of every world, like an insect hive with millions of entrances and exits, all converging in this one, shrouded realm.

The smooth and glassy surface looks stable at least, so it seems safe enough, or as safe as any portal leading to an undisclosed location can be.

But then... when has Strife ever concerned himself with safety?

Stepping confidently onto the dais, his golden eyes slip shut as that familiar, disorienting sensation sweeps his legs out from underneath him and an ancient magic pulls him down through the rippling surface and into the conduit's 'throat,' sensing War's presence close behind him.

At an impossible speed, the Horsemen's atoms are flung through the fabrics of space, hurtling them on towards the connecting portal.

Between one breath and the next, Strife's ears suddenly catch a strange, faraway noise, a high-pitched ringing that seems to grow from ignorable to downright earsplitting in a single blink.

'What the....?'

Solid ground materialises beneath the Horseman's boots and he's just about to peel his eyes open and search for the source of the noise when all of a sudden, something small and squidgy crashes into his torso and sends him staggering backwards off the Serpent Hole, tripping over the lip of the well and sprawling onto his backside with a shout and an almighty clamour of metal striking stone.

… At least the ringing has stopped.

The first explanation that springs to mind is that he's being attacked.

There's a weight tangled up against his chest and the tickle of hair or perhaps fur brushing the underside of his chin.

With lightening speed, Strife snaps a hand down and wrenches Mercy - one of his infamous pistols - from its holster, his blazing eyes enraged, and his lips curled into a snarl, ready to tear his unexpected assailant to pieces for daring to knock him on his ass.

The Horseman cranes his neck down at an awkward angle to look this coward in the face so he can give them his own, personal farewell.... only to freeze in his tracks, his eyes growing round and wide.

The snarl is wiped off his mouth as swiftly as it had appeared.

There's a... a person in his lap, clothed from head to toe in immaculate, white garb. Their hands – and, Creator, those are some tiny hands – are splayed out across his armoured chest plate, each finger tipped by an unnaturally pink nail. There's some kind of sheer, lacy veil poised daintily on top of their head, flipped back to cascade down the length of their spine.

Stunned into rare silence, Strife can only gawk as the person weakly pushes themselves up, using his chest as a prop and groaning in apparent pain.

A face rises from his dusty, old cowl, turning upwards, and all at once, the breath catches inside his throat when two eyes - each framed by thick, ebony lashes - flutter delicately open and lock onto his like a magnet to metal.

----------

Somebody must have hit you with their car. That's the only explanation your poor, frazzled brain can come up with when all motion ceases in a flash of brilliant, white light, and a jarring thud knocks the wind right out of you and causes your teeth to clatter around inside your skull.

After peeling your eyelids apart, it takes you a few, dizzying seconds to make sense of what you're looking at.

Everything is still spinning, the whole world is little more than a blur of greys and blacks until finally, you give a hard blink and focus on two pinpricks of golden light hanging side by side within a beclouded, silver blob.

With immense effort, your brain chugs into gear and you squint, face screwed up in exasperated confusion. Beneath your hands, you gradually become aware of a warm, solid surface moving steadily up and down.

Unfortunately for you, you're given no more time to try and decipher just what it is you're laying upon.

Without warning, something hard and unforgiving grabs a fistful of your dress's neckline from behind and your ensuing yelp is strangled out of you as you're torn away from the golden lights and hurled through the air. A split second of gut-churning free-fall occurs before you hit solid ground again with a hard 'whumph!' rolling several times over across an uneven surface and getting thoroughly tangled up in your skirts until you finally skid to a somewhat painful stop on your spine, eyes screwed shut.

You dimly make a note to get the plates of the god damn semi-truck that must have just ploughed into you... as soon as you can see straight, that is.

“Brother! Are you injured!?” a voice booms out, too loud for your pounding head to cope with.

It takes considerable effort just to roll your neck over until your cheek is pressed against the wonderfully cool stone underneath you.

Heaving out a weary groan, you pry your eyelids apart and squint through the strange, dull light to see a pair of... figures, you suppose, standing several yards away from you, slowly coming into focus. Blinking, you attempt to raise your head to get a better look at them, your neck straining from the effort.

One of the figures is leaning down and hauling a slightly smaller one onto their feet, only to have their efforts rewarded by being shoo-ed away by the latter, who huffs, “M'fine, War. Relax. She just caught me off guard.”

A beat of silence follows, and then... “She?”

The pair of them turn in your direction, and as they do, you promptly feel the blood in your veins run thick with cold.

Eyes. Those golden pinpricks of light you'd been staring into mere moments ago had been eyes.

The pain in your neck dissipates as your brain catches up with the situation and a neural pathway clears to make room for alarm and mounting horror.

What... happened? Who are these people?

...

… You need to get up...

Gritting your teeth so hard that your jaw begins to ache, you roll yourself over onto your front and push against the ground, bullying your battered body up onto trembling hands and knees as the familiar weight of your shoulder bag slides down your ribs and lands on the ground with a 'clink.' Thunderous footsteps shake the tiny stones beneath you, and, still in the throes of a daze, you watch them skitter about, wondering how large the approaching figure could possibly be that he might cause the Earth itself to quiver.

Stinging pain on your arms briefly draws your focus to a crosshatch of scrapes and grazes that litter the skin from wrist to elbow, though you don't have long to inspect them before that same, rough hand is snatching you up by the collar of your dress once more, this time tearing a yelp from your lips as the ground falls away and you're hoisted into the air, your shoes dangling several, alarming feet off the ground.

It abruptly occurs to you that you might be lobbed again, so, with unparalleled haste, you throw your arms out and tear your eyes off your wedding shoes, raising your head and blurting, “Wait! Wait, don't, ple-...!”

Whatever plea you'd intended to make is forgotten in the blink of an eye.

It is immensely disconcerting to find yourself hanging clear off the ground and still having to look up into the fierce, arctic eyes of a bonafide giant.

A crimson hood cloaks half of the strange man's face in darkness, but his teeth gleam starkly in contrast as he aims a snarl at you that could rival an angry lion's. With deliberate ferocity, his almighty jaw is pried apart, causing you to instinctively brace.

It swiftly becomes apparent that you were right to do so.

“What is the meaning of this ambush!?” he roars, and a blast of heat slugs you squarely in the face, forcing you to clamp your eyes shut and try to hunch into your shoulders before you're able to blink tentatively up at him again once the warmth recedes.

You can't think fast enough to formulate a response.

The man holding you aloft – though you hesitate to call him a man at all – has to be something straight out of the fantasy novels you read as a child. He's built like an ox on steroids, an almighty, armoured brute with shoulders as broad as a truck and a face like chiselled granite. He glowers down at you from beneath his crimson cloak with eyes that lack any kind of iris or pupil. Instead, you find yourself trapped by two, white-blue pits of light that burn the same colour as a roaring gas fire.

Your impromptu study is interrupted when the man peels his lips back even further to expose sharpened canines and he gives you a rough shake, as though you weigh no more to him than a dollar bill.

“Speak!” he demands, “Before I decorate this wretched abyss with your innards!”

Somehow, you don't think that's an empty threat.

Thoroughly jostled, panic bubbles up inside your chest like acid and your mouth turns as dry as a desert when you peel your tongue from the roof of it, parting your trembling lips and sucking down a lungful of stale, musty air.

If this man had been expecting a coherent response, he's about to be sorely disappointed.

“AAAAAAHHHH!”

The ungodly shriek that explodes past your teeth has the stranger's head jolting back, his brows unfurling by a fraction to give away his surprise.

Like a mouse caught alive in slowly closing jaws, you begin to thrash and struggle, twisting yourself from left to right and even bringing your legs up to paddle uselessly at his armoured stomach, screeching, “LET ME GO!”

The only indication that he's even noticing your efforts is the single, snowy brow that makes a steady journey higher up his forehead.

“Ha! What've I always told you, War?” another robust voice echoes across the platform and into your ears, momentarily drawing your focus away from your pitiful escape attempt.

'War? What kind of a name is that?'

The second figure emerges from behind the first - smaller and slighter than your captor, but still leagues bigger than you.

Boldly, he leans an elbow against his companion and cocks his head at you, drawling, “You sure have a way with the ladies.”

Jesus, there isn't an inch of this one that isn't strapped up in gleaming armour, gunmetal grey in the seams and dulled silver everywhere else. Even his head is obscured by an avian helm made entirely from metal, save for two, angular hollows carved into the front, from which a pair of eyes peer out at you, entirely featureless as well. These, however, spark with intrigue rather than rage, glowing gold like a freshly struck match.

The larger of the two has yet to take his own eyes off you. He ignores his friend's jab, instead jutting his square chin at you and growling, “What do you make of this, Brother?”

Brother?

“Whaaat the shiiiit?” you whimper breathlessly, reaching up and feeling for the back of your dress to tug feebly at the unyielding, steel fingers as if you ever had a hope in Hell's chance of loosening the giant's grip.

This has to be some kind of prank, or a hallucination - a full, auditory and visual hallucination. Tactile as well, apparently, though you've never heard that such a thing is really possible. But what other explanation is there? Perhaps that taxi driver had somehow drugged you through the... god, the air conditioning, or something.

All you know with any certainty, is that whatever terrible dream or trip you're having right now, it's a thousand times scarier than any stupid wedding. What you wouldn't give to be walking down that aisle now instead of dangling helplessly in the clutches of a man who's much too large to be human.

The silver figment of your imagination tilts his helm down, then slowly brings it back up, and even without any recognisable detail in his eyes, you just know he's giving you a thorough once-over.

“Mm,” he grunts, cocking a hip and folding his arms across a proud chest, “Can't be sure. Maybe some kind of... fashion-forward angel?”

“Then where are her wings?” the one holding you speculates.

“Ah. Right, right, right.... Mmm, glamoured demon?”

'War' is quiet for a time, narrowing his glare at you before he blinks and offers a pensive nod. “... A fair assumption.”

On the verge of losing your breakfast, you whip your head back and forth between the two of them, bewildered by a conversation you can't possibly hope to follow.

“Although~,” the smaller one starts, and without warning, reaches down to pluck the front of your dress between his fingers, tugging the fabric up to inspect it and inadvertently revealing the wedding garter on your thigh, “This seems a little excessive for a disguise.”

For a split second, your unparalleled fear is abruptly overwhelmed by a rush of indignation, and before you can come to your senses, you aim a vicious kick at the silver gauntlet keeping your dress aloft. “Hey! Hands off!” you bark.

To your surprise, he actually lets go and raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Woah~! Feisty little filly, isn't she?” he chuckles.

The indignation doesn't last for long after that.

Receiving another sharp glare from the man holding you hostage, you gulp audibly and stop trying to kick out, turning limp in his grasp and ducking your head to escape his scrutiny.

“What business have you here, demon?” he spits the last word through his teeth like it's poisonous, “Are you Samael's associate?”

“Sam-eye-who!?” you squeak, a far cry from your earlier bite, “I-I don't know! I'm not.. I'm not a demon, for god's sake, I'm a human being!”

Anyone would think you'd just spoken the magic words.

Your enormous captor's eyes fling open wide and all at once, the pressure around your chest goes slack and you're unceremoniously dropped in a heap onto your backside, your dress fluttering down after to pool around your legs.

A jarring pain shoots up your coccyx and you wince, trying desperately to ignore the fact that that sort of pain would definitely wake you up if you were dreaming. Moments later, you're kicking and pushing yourself backwards across the stone, away from the looming titans.

An eerie change seems to have come over the pair. Now, they're both staring down at you in dangerous silence, at least until the silver one begins to stride after you, prompting a squeal of alarm to escape your lips. He catches up to you easily and plants one, immense boot down on the train of your dress, jerking you to a sudden halt and preventing you from retreating any further.

“What did you just say?” he utters slowly. Dangerously. There's none of the jocular lilt in his tone that had been there only moments ago.

Your chest heaves, your mind races... What did you say? What did you say that could have prompted such a change in their demeanour?

“Wh-what?” you splutter, “What, that I'm a human? I'm not a demon!?”

Why does that matter? You thought it was pretty, damn obvious.

The pair of them stare down at you in silence for several, uncomfortable seconds until you're sure you're going to burst if the tension grows any thicker, when all of a sudden, the smaller one throws his head back and lets out a sharp bark of laughter, successfully giving you a tiny heart attack. “Ha! Good one!” he snorts, extending a clawed thumb and flicking it between he and his companion, “Hey, you know what. Me and my brother are actually makers who got hit by a shrinking spell.”

Swallowing your heart back down your throat, you breathlessly ask, “What... the Hell is a maker?”

The pair of them share an odd look before peering down at you again. “It... was a joke,” he says slowly, regarding you as if you're being deliberately dense.

At last, he removes his boot from your dress and steps back, glancing at his brother. “Hey... You don't think...”

“No,” 'War' retorts with an air of inarguable finality, “She cannot be human. Listen to her. She speaks the Common tongue. Humanity's language is.. abstract. They still rely on visual communication.”

Incredulous, you stare up at him as if he's now the one being dense.

His brother meanwhile, gives him an impressed up and down, drawling out, “Well, look at you, brushing up on your human history.”

“They are not exactly a difficult species to understand,” the first scoffs.

If you weren't so busy trying to crawl backwards as stealthily as possible, you'd probably take offence to the slandering humanity.

As it is, however, you're more preoccupied with how they're referring to humans in the third person. You don't much like the implications of that.

There's a lot you don't really like about this whole situation, actually. Your brain feels like its firing all cylinders as it tries to make sense of where you are and how in the world you got here. Who are those two people? Is this real, or is it all happening in a dream?

Sniffling, you swipe the back of a hand underneath your nose and begin the arduous task of shambling backwards on your rear, keeping your eyes fixed upon the two strangers before at last swallowing a gulp of bravery and tearing your eyes away, flinging yourself over and scrabbling up onto your heeled feet.

Your plan, unperfected though it may be, is simple.

Run like Hell and hope you can out-pace the pair of heavy-weight brutes behind you.

Your own folly is that you'd been so busy watching them, that you have yet to catch a glimpse of your surroundings, a decision you instantly regret when you face forwards and have to slam on the brakes at once. “SHIT!” you yelp, your arms pinwheeling desperately as you slide to a sharp and clumsy halt right at the edge of an enormous, flat-topped rock.

Chest heaving, you let out a shaky breath and tentatively inch your neck out to peer down over the ledge.

Nothing waits below you.

Literally nothing.

There's only a thick, gaping abyss that plunges down, so far down until the ambient light fades and turns into pitch-black darkness.

You can even see the bottom of the rock you're standing on.

This, you think, must be what astronauts feel like, floating in the great expanse of space with no idea of what's out there, nothing above you, nothing below you... You could drift forever if you take a single step forwards.

It's a harrowing thought.

Sweat beads on the nape of your neck and you take a very slow, very careful step backwards, away from the ledge. Your head swings like a periscope from left to right in search of a way off this stupid boulder. There's nothing about this place you recognise, not from any book, or documentary or map. You have to look away when you spot a veritable mountain levitating in the distance, nothing to support it but the open air.

“This is a dream...” you mutter to yourself, “Surely to god, please let this be a dream...”

“You should watch your step.”

Your shoulders jump and you whip around, reeling your bag back threateningly, only to find the silver-clad man standing a little too close to you, regarding you curiously from several, meagre feet away.

God... even stood at your full height, you doubt you'd even reach the bottom of his sternum.

“Y-you stay away from me!” you stammer, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, “I mean it! If you come any closer, I'll... I'll-!”

Cocking his helm to one side, the stranger helpfully suggests, “You'll... make us regret it?”

Borderline hysterical, you latch onto his proposal at once, jabbing your bag at him. “Yes, yes! Exactly. Oh-ho! You would not believe what I've got inside this thing!”

Lipstick, tissues, tweezers and tampons. Truly, you're a formidable opponent for two hulking brutes with guns and a sword that's taller than you are.

“Okay,” you admit, deflating like a popped balloon, “Okay, I.. I don't know what you want from me, but, you should know, my family... we aren't very rich, so if you're going to ask for a ransom-”

You start to feel your lip wobble, but before the waterworks really hit, the stranger squints down at you incredulously and asks, “Lady, what the Hell are you talking about? You're the one who crashed into us!” He pauses to share a brief glance with his brother. “Well, specifically me. I think the real question is, what do you want with us?”

Your hands fly up and you splay them out in front of you, waving them frantically from side to side. “Nothing! It was an accident, I – I didn't mean to, I just... I...” Trailing off, your arms slowly draw close up against your chest and you drag your eyes down to the stranger's boots, aimless in their venturing. “I'm supposed to be getting married right now! I just want to get out of here.” Wherever on Earth here is.

Good god, your mother... She'll be so disappointed that you didn't turn up, after all the work she put into your own wedding. And your father! Watching you from a screen in his hospital bed, expecting to see his daughter walking down the aisle, only to see... nothing.

The thought hits you like a punch to your roiling guts.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, you thoughtlessly turn your back on the two men, ignorant of the way the largest bristles in offence.

Perhaps it isn't especially intelligent to expose your fragile spine to these... people. But nothing stabs or shoots you in the back for several minutes, so you turn your focus to a more pressing matter – retracing your steps and figuring out how you ended up in this otherworldly place.

Strife eyes the 'human' uncertainly.

It's odd, he thinks. You don't act like a human, you don't sound like a human. Heck, you barely even look human. There are hardly any hair follicles embedded in your skin and your jaw isn't nearly robust enough. And humans, so far as he knows, don't wear those clothes. They wear leathers and furs - sturdy things meant to protect them from the world they've recently made their home. Not stark, white silk that looks like angel-made fabric.

And yet... Well, you're either a demon who also happens to be the Universe's most convincing actress, or you really believe you're a member of the human race.

… Huh...

“Brother?”

He perks up at the sound of War's voice, casting a glance over a shoulder to see his brother has moved away and is standing at the foot of another stone staircase, watching the woman through narrowed eyes. “It is clear this... creature is not of sound mind.”

“But, she-”

“We have our orders from the Council,” he continues pointedly, cutting his brother off, “We've tarried for too long.”

“...Right...” Strife exhales softly through his nose. Their 'orders...'

With a pensive furrow to his brow, he spares a final look back at you.

One of your arms is wrapped securely around your middle, the other bent up at the elbow to press bone-white knuckles firmly against quivering lips, and those intricate, pretty eyes glisten in the dim light of the Void as they dart around at the ever-changing landscape.

Of its own accord, Strife's mouth stretches into a lopsided grin.

You sure are a weird little creature. Or misshapen angel, or glamoured demon, or... whatever in Creation you are.

And where had you even come from, if not from here?

He muses on it for a moment longer before War none-too subtly clears his throat, reminding Strife to get a move on.

Typical War... always more interested in upholding his honour than succumbing to even the barest sniff of curiosity.

'Still,' Strife supposes, heaving a one-shouldered shrug, 'shepherding wayward souls is Death's area of expertise. Not mine.'

… This soul does have a particularly wayward look about it though...

Strife wrenches his focus away and turns his back on the little 'human,' giving his helm a brusque shake to clear it of any lingering intrigue.

You are not his problem.

He reaches the steps and looks up at War, who gives him a steadfast nod before turning on his heel and lumbering on towards the apex of the staircase.

Tempering his curiosity by focusing on the grim duty they've been set by the Charred Council, Strife follows along at a lackadaisical pace, but just as his boot hits the fourth step, a timid sound drifts across the rocky landscape and twitches at his ears, just loud enough to slow him to a standstill once more.

It's a sound he seldom hears, but for all its rarity, it's recognisable nonetheless.

To begin with, he starts to think he must have imagined it, perhaps it was nothing more than an ambient sound cast by the Void itself.

But then, he hears it again, and there's no pretending for a second time.

It's the conveying of despair and worry and fear all wrapped up inside one, little vocalisation.

A wet, hitching, 'sob!'

'Oh no...' The rider squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to take another step forwards, jaw clenched in defiance of his own, wretched heart.

Damn him, he's a Horseman now. A Horseman of the Apocalypse, no less. Hell, he's a killer, a genocidal maniac, a dashing if not puckish scoundrel. The Horsemen weren't created by the Charred Council to solve trivial matters such as escorting strays back home, after all. That would be laughable.

What was it they had decreed him? Endless Spirit of timeless unrest. All that is unsettled in the hearts of that which lives and breathes...

Yeah. Something along those lines.

… He's a good-for-nothing...

Strife's head twists around ever so slightly and he catches a glimpse of you over his shoulder.

That flouncy, white garment trails through the dust behind you as you pace back and forth across the platform, head tipped to the sky and your chest heaving in and out with long, overcompensating breaths, none of which seem enough to fill your lungs.

In a word, you look... terrified.

When you turn to the side, his sharp eyes immediately zero in on the glistening shine on your cheeks.

They're wet? But... how could they be? There isn't any...

Oh...

Gently, the Horseman's gaze slides down to rest on the holster strapped to his left hip. Mercy rests inside, patient and pliant, always standing ready in the event that its master needs it. Gah, he must've been feeling particularly sentimental when he named the damn pistols...

Slumping on his haunches, Strife blows out an exaggerated sigh, defeated by his most tenacious opponent – himself.

“War?” he utters, resigned.

The younger Nephilim pauses his ascent and twists his torso around, cocking a brow down at his brother and finding his helm fixed unwaveringly in your direction.

“... I don't think she's a glamoured demon...”

War's shoulder pauldrons clank softly as he raises his head and glowers down at you, his eyes narrowing to thin slits. “What makes you so sure?” he asks after a beat.

This time, when Strife speaks, he starts to venture back down the staircase, never once looking away from you. “Demons don't cry,” he explains quietly, more to himself than to War, “They can't. Their frontal lobes are the smallest of any species. They literally don't know how to cry...”

“Your familiarity with demon biology is noted, but what are you getting at, brother?”

Reaching the bottom of the steps, Strife doesn't respond, prompting War to call out to him, slightly louder, “Brother?!”

But the older rider's attention is now solely fixed upon the small, unassuming stranger who'd quite literally barrelled straight into his life.

He approaches slowly, much like he'd approached his flighty steed, Mayhem, not so many weeks ago.

You turn towards him just as he draws within a few feet of you and when you spot him looming above you, you jump back, choking out a cry of alarm.

His fearsome stare trails from your head all the way down to your shoes that sit hidden beneath the hem of the wedding dress. “What is it?” you try to snap, grimacing when it leaves you as a pitiable squeak instead, “What are you staring at?”

If Strife were a more mannerly Nephilim, he might have recognised that it's rude to not only ignore people when they address you, but to stare at them so openly and unabashedly that they feel the need to cover their chests to preserve some modicum of dignity, or privacy.

But as it is, he isn't mannerly.

His name is Strife, for Creation's sake. Not Harmony.

The Horseman snorts at his own little joke, electing to save that one for later when he feels the time is right. War is sure to hate it, if nothing else.

Good.

But as for the matter at hand...

Strife has met some wolves trussed up in sheep's clothing before, but here he sees a wolf with no teeth, no claws, no weapons or magic.

In fact, aside from that unusual satchel you keep slung around your waist, you haven't raised a single weapon against them, and unless you have something hidden away beneath those frills and skirts – which he highly doubts – you've come here, to the Void, completely and utterly...

“Unarmed,” he muses aloud, appraising you in a new light.

Hardly even a wolf at all, then. Perhaps more of a sheep in lambswool.

You're defensive. Not aggressive.

What a jarring change of pace from their usual company...

And... you're still crying.

Unleashing a deep sigh that seems to emanate right from the darkest depths of his soul, Strife lifts an arm and cards his fingers through thick, black hair that sticks in an unruly mess from the back of his skull, more akin to a demon's spines than the soft, lustrous locks of angel hair.

“Look,” he pushes out, dropping his gaze from your face at last, “I, uh.. I'm not sure what you are. Or where you came from. But, I can't help noticing that you don't have a way to defend yourself...”

His eyes are on you again as soon as you shuffle away from him a little further, freezing you solid. After several seconds pass and you realise he isn't about to attack, you swipe at your damp cheeks and lower your stare to his pistols.

'Well, duh,' you want to scoff, 'Of course I'm not armed. I'm not a psychopath who brings guns to her own wedding.' Calling the gun-toting juggernaut a psychopath might not go down so well. Then, belatedly, you think, 'It isn't a shotgun wedding, after all.' But something tells you the humour wouldn't be well-received either by anyone except yourself.

...Cain would have hated that joke.

'Good,' a tiny, vindictive part of you whispers, deep within the most secretive corners of your mind.

At your prolonged silence, Strife mirrors your stance, bringing his much beefier arms up to fold them pointedly across his own chest. “Well, if that's the case,” he huffs, “Then you're either really brave, or really, really stupid.”

Pursing your lips, you slide your gaze to one side, apparently unwilling to divulge which of the two you believe yourself to be.

“You're in the Void, kid,” he presses, sweeping a hand out to the world around you, “This is no place for a vulnerable little speck like you.”

He's admittedly proud that he manages to put an affronted scowl on your otherwise fear-stricken face.

“And if who I think is here, is here...” Falling silent for the sole purpose of building suspense, he lowers his arms to his sides and drops his pitch, uttering, “Then you're in more trouble than you realise. We're here via invite. Can't say the same for you...”

At long last, you find your tongue. “Uh, what're you... getting at?” you say falteringly, retreating another step only to suck down a whimper when he simply closes the distance again in a single stride.

The stomping approach of heavy footfalls alerts you to the larger man returning grumpily to his brother's side with a face the very picture of exasperated irritation.

You shrink in on yourself when his shadow falls across you.

“Well,” the silver man pipes up, “You keep telling us you're human... And now, y'see... I'm kinda curious about that... Cause me and my brother can't exactly leave you here when you're supposed to be back on Earth.”

His words cause your brain to sputter for a moment before it kicks into gear again. Very carefully, you ask, “What do you mean, 'back on Earth?”

Disregarding your query entirely, he simply states, “You're comin' with us."

Your response to that is about as abrupt as they come.

You balk, stumbling away from them again on shaky heels. “I most certainly am not!” you blurt out, feeling your panic spike to its apex, “Frankly, I'm still not convinced that you two, or any of this-!” You throw your arms away from your chest. “- aren't just some kind of fucked up hallucination brought on by the stress of this stupid wedding!”

Strife's eyes crinkle with amusement, a stark contradiction to War's, who's own glare is so cold, it would give Death a run for his money. Nothing you say makes any sense. It's actually quite enchanting.

“...What... is a wedding?” War murmurs to him from the side of his mouth.

Shrugging, his brother replies, “Beats me. But, we should probably get this show on the road.”

“Agreed.”

“You thinking what I'm thinking?”

War scoffs. “The day I think like you, brother, is the day I shall finally ask Fury to cleave my brain out with her whip.”

Strife's grin turns sharp and pointed. “Ha,” he says flatly, “Funny. I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to do the honours.”

At once, your whole body goes rigid and you dart a suspicious look between them, bumbling, “Honours? What honours? What do you mean honours?”

The glare War is subjecting his brother to is nothing short of murderous, but after a moment of stillness, his cinched jaw works itself loose and some of the stiffness dissipates from his shoulders. Stoic, utterly impenetrable, he turns his hooded face to you and holds you still with a mere look of warning, eyebrows locked at the centre of his forehead.

Then, without a word, he marches forwards, and in one smooth motion, bends down and snakes a monstrous arms around your hips, sweeping you effortlessly into the air and slinging you across his shoulder like a sack of especially mortified potatoes. You slot neatly into the space between his hood and the solid, metal shoulder pauldron to your right.

At once, your palms slap down on the gigantic expanse of his back and you let out a bleat of terror when his metal palm lands on the seat of your dress.

Even through layers and layers of fabric, you can still feel the heat his appendage exudes.

“What do you think you're doing!?” you shout, kicking your legs and clawing at his armour to try and pull yourself free, “Put me down, right now!”

The silver man steps up to War's back and tilts his head at you, meeting your flabbergasted gaze with a coy wink.

“What? Not comfortable enough for you, Princess?”

Sparing him a distressed frown, you sag against the shoulder you're laying across and bleakly croak, “Why're you doing this?”

“I have to concur with the female, Strife-"

You yelp again and hurry to wind your fingers into the crimson cloak beneath you as War abruptly swings around to face his brother, adding, “-Why are we doing this?”

For a few seconds, the smaller Nephilim simply watches on in amusement as your comically diminutive shoes flick and flail helplessly through the air, poking out from under all those layers of white fabric until one wayward heel almost grazes War's cheek, prompting the Horseman to rumble out a low growl and raise his other hand to capture both of your ankles in one palm, keeping them secured.

“Don't suppose you'd accept, 'because it's funny' as an answer, would you?” Strife poses.

The Red rider's lip curves up and this time, he growls at his brother, and the strength of it causes your teeth to clatter around inside your jaw.

At the display of aggression, Strife simply snorts and spins on his heel, making for the staircase again as he beckons over his shoulder for War to keep up.

With an aggravated grunt, the youngest Horseman trudges unhurriedly along behind him.

“Fine," Strife sighs in mock exasperation, "We're doing it because if she really is human, then I wanna know how we missed an evolutionary jump this big, and if she isn't...”

A shadow falls across his visor and he drops back until he's stalking along just behind War's heel, a sudden ice to his tone as he watches you struggle about on his brother's shoulder.

“If she isn't human,” he murmurs dangerously, sending fingers of ice brushing up your spine, “Then I plan on finding out just why she thinks she can lie to the Horsemen, and live to tell the tale...”

#Darksiders #darksiders genesis #War/reader #Strife/reader #fluff #angst #marriage #hurt/comfort #Strife is kind of nasty thooo #War continues to be best boy #weddings #reluctant bride #runaway bride? sort of?#not an incest ship #horsemen of the apocalypse #Human x monster

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namorslutfanfiction · 1 year

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Hey Tenoch Huerta Nation/Coven/Whoretas: A Gentle Reminder

I hope you are enjoying my fics, the release of BPWF on Disney+, and of course all the amazing gifs/art/fandom media that is being put out there by other creators just like me.

I got a message with a bit of attitude about me not updating enough. It was rude and dismissive and incredibly entitled so I just wanna address it here.

All my writing is done as a hobby, for pleasure, and for enjoyment. I am not being paid or compensated for the hours I put into my writing and creating. As such, sometimes I do not have it in me to put anything out. Whether I am busy with real life, burnt out, or just not in the mood, there can be days to weeks where I will not be able to post.

You are not entitled to any of my writing. I can easily block you if you hadn't sent the ask as an anon. I share my writing because I want it to be enjoyed but with the caveat that I am respected for my efforts. The same way that we send praises and appreciation to all the wonderful people who make edits and gifs that we all share.

Yes my blog isn't just my fanfiction. I created this side blog and returned to Tumblr because of Tenoch and BPWF. I will post whatever I want, whether it is my personal thoughts, gifs and videos I like, or just random fangirling with my mutuals. IF you do not like that feel free to unfollow. I have a masterlist for a reason and I cross post to AO3.

JUST BECAUSE YOU MADE A REQUEST DOESNT MEAN YOU CAN HARASS ME BECAUSE I HAVENT POSTED IT YET. I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO DENY/DELETE/CHANGE A REQUEST AS I SEE FIT AND NOW YOUR REQUESTS ARE DELETED

I do my best to be as inclusive as possible with all my writing. But I am a nearly 29 year old Filipino female and that will always tinge my writing. All I can say is that if something doesn't sit right with you don't read it. If you can't find what you're looking for maybe you need to write it.

I AM NOT A MACHINE. SOME DAYS I HAVE THE TIME AND CREATIVITY TO CHURN OUT MULTIPLE FICS SOMETIMES ITS NONE. I have had some family medical issues, a death of someone close to me, and a reaction to my own medication in just the past month. I will take breaks as I see fit for my own health.

You are a giant bleeding cunt.

Anyway. That's my rant for the day. Appreciate your fic writers, gif makers, video editors, and artists.

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maddiethecanadianassassin · 8 months

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Brotherhood of Spiders - Ezio Auditore

Hey all! I wrote this crossover between Assassin's Creed & Spiderverse has a little gift for @ramshackledtrickster for their awesome artwork. They created a Spidersona for Connor/Ratonhnhaké:ton and they were brainstorming ideas for an Spidersona for Ezio. . . let's be real, the motivation train hit me *hard*.

This fic features my own Spidersona, Lisa aka "Spider-Muse" from my fic Silk & Cologne (X) that I post on AO3 and share updates on over on my main blog (X). If you guys like this one, then I might finally get around to writing the drabble for Connor. . . and maybe some other Assassins?

Enjoy!

/////////

“Let me go you insufferable worms!” The Vulture squealed as Miguel, Spider-Man 2099 and Lisa, Spider-Muse, emerged through a portal back into Spider-Society HQ.

The pair had received word that the Renaissance Vulture had escaped through a rift and ended up in another dimension. Again.

“This is the third time we’ve caught you now, Tombs,” Miguel rolled his eyes as dropped the tied up villain to the floor, hands on his hips. “You’ve got to learn by now that you and other dimensions don’t mix,”

“If you need a vacation that bad, why not just go somewhere else in your dimension?” Lisa suggested, her pony tail bouncing as she walked over to a terminal. “A place where there’s no people around to bother you?”

The Vulture scoffed at the woman’s claim, rolling his eyes. Miguel narrowed his eyes at him through his mask, a silent warning. After typing in a command on the terminal, a virtual avatar appeared before them as Spider-Byte greeted the pair.

“Hey guys!” Margo greeted with a smile, “What can I do for you?”

“We got another anomaly ready to send home for you,” Lisa nodded her head over towards him.

“Alright, who do we–” Margo’s expression changed as she laid eyes on the familiar Vulture villain. She stared at him, eyes deadpanned. “Really Tombs? Again?”

Vulture shrugged with an annoyed huff.

Margo glanced up at Miguel, giving him an annoyed but understanding look. “Alright, skip the pleasantries and send him to straight back,”

“Thank you, Byte,” Miguel nodded in relief, his tired eyes drooping momentarily as he allowed himself a brief moment to relax.

It had been a long day of patrols, dimensional analysis in his lab and upgrading his gear. He had promised Lisa a romantic dinner date back in her dimension. A home cooked meal they’d make together followed by a movie, maybe a little snuggling on the side if he was feeling generous.

Margo walked over to her console station and the keyboards and monitors came to life. She typed in a series of commands as the Going-Home machine came to life. The giant machine life-like spider descended before carefully plucking up Tombs and pulling him towards the platform. Miguel disengaged his laser webs from around him when he was a safe distance away.

“No, stop! I won’t go back!” Vulture protested.

Lisa stepped forward, leaning on the edge of the laboratory platform as she watched the scene playout closely. Vulture was struggling against the Spider as the machine began to thread the dimension webbed cocoon. He managed to break a hand free and suddenly launched a grappling hook and yanked the string back, pulling Lisa along with it.

“HEY!” She yelped as her body collided into him as the cocoon wall sealed itself around them.

“Oh no!” Margo’s eyes went wide.

“Lisa!” Miguel screamed as he immediately started running, looking over towards Margo. “Stop the machine!”

“I’m trying man, I’m trying!” Margo whined as Lyla appeared beside her as they both desperately tried to override the machine.

As Lisa struggles to break free from Vulture’s grasp, Miguel activates his talons as he leaps into the air. He jumps a good 40 feet across before his talons sink into the cocoon. The impact causes the platform to shake as Lisa yelps. Miguel claws at the cocoon wall, trying to break it apart just enough so he can reach in and pull her out.

But the more he fights it, the more hardened the material becomes as a white light shines above them, a portal opening overhead. If he doesn’t get her out–!

“Lisa!” He calls out to her.

“Ciao, Spider-Man,” The Vulture cackles as he grips Lisa into a headlock.

The portal shines brighter as the giant Spider moves out of the way and within moments, the portal beams the pair up and Miguel falls through and collapses onto the platform. Breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, Miguel looks up towards the machine. The portal was gone. The Vulture and Lisa along with it.

“Shock!” Miguel bangs his fist into the platform, his back muscles tensing. He stands up, looking over towards Margo and Lyla. “Alert the local Spider-Man! NOW!”

//////////

Lisa remembered the portal opening, the beam pulling her and the Vulture through. She could see the rings of the portal as she traveled through the interdimensional plane. She had seen it before during her numerous portal jumps, but something was different about this instance.

As she was flying through the plane, she caught glimpses of memories. Memories of not her own life, but of others. Lives of people she had never met. All throughout different points in time? What was going on?!

Her questions were short lived when she saw the light at the end of the portal as she and Vulture phased through and bright colours and cheerful music engulfed her senses. Lisa could just barely make out the red tile rooftops, the dome like buildings, and bell towers. Off in the distance– was that the Colosseum?!

“Have a nice trip, ragazza,” Vulture purred as he released his grip on Spider-Muse and suddenly threw her off of him. “See you next fall!”

Her body collided onto a rooftop, the enhanced super strength of her spider powers causing Lisa to literally break through the fencing of the roof and tumble over the edge. She tried to reach out to grab something to break her fall, but was just too late and found herself free falling from a bell tower. Of all the times to experience a web block, it had to be now?!

So this was it then? This was how I would go out?

A shadow overcast her suddenly. The whole thing seemed to play in slow motion. Lisa watched as a male figure jumped from the top of the bell tower, arms out like he was taking a swan dive. His red cape fluttered in the wind, matching his white and red suit. He peered down, his body taking a nose dive as he went straight for her, reaching his hand out.

That’s when Lisa saw it. Her eyes widened as the man pulled two of his fingers back, the signature spider-man sign as he shot out a web, sticking to her chest. He yanked on it, hoisting Lisa up before he pulled her in his arms. As he caught her, he leaned forward, his body front flipping as his feet literally gilded along the cobblestone walls of the bell tower, cradling Lisa as he pressed her against the wall to shield her from the falling debris.

Her chest rising and falling, she caught her breath as Lisa glanced up towards the man’s face. He wore a white hood over his head, a red mask with the signature Spider eyelets that covered the top half of his face, while the bottom half gave way to beautiful puff lips, a scar on his right side just hovering over the skin, along with a neatly trimmed goatee beard on his chin.

With swift movements, he carried Lisa down to the street level. The man set her down on my feet, allowing the woman to step away to compose myself. “Are you alright?” He asked in an Italian accent.

Lisa looked him over, scanning him from head to toe. “Are you–” Before she could continue, Lisa felt a buzzing in her head. The Spider-Sense. She hissed initially, but when Lisa looked up towards the man, her eyes widened, seeing a faint red and blue hue around his face with little squiggly lines. She could feel his reaction through his mask, his mouth twitching to a genuinely surprised expression.

“You’re like me. . .” He spoke in awe.

Lisa couldn’t help but nod, smiling. Actually. . . She pulled her mask part way up, to reveal her lips, showing him her own smile. “Just like you,”

He smirked, a quick huff of a laugh escaping him. “Ezio Auditore, Spider-Man,” He stepped back, offering me a curt bow. “You are?”

“Lisa Kendrick,” She offered him a courtesy before looking back at him. “Spider-Muse?”

“Muse?” He raised a curious brow. “Why not Spider-Woman?”

“It’s been done,” Lisa giggled softly, my lips curling into a smile. “Trust me,”

Before he could ask her anything further, a voice cried out, along with quick and eager footsteps. “Spider-Man!!”

Lisa quickly pulled her mask back down, looking over to see a man run around a corner. He had long curly hair, pale skin and freckles, dressed in very fancy clothes as he ran and fellow over a barrel before quickly picking himself back up. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he breathed deeply, hands on his knees as the man glanced up towards us. “The Vulture! He–”

“Si, I saw him,” Ezio nodded, looking towards Lisa. “It’s alright, Leonardo, we are among friends it seems,”

Leonardo. . . as in Leonardo Di Vinci?! The famous artist?!

“Wait,” Leonardo’s eyes widened as he saw her, taking in Lisa’s understandably strange attire and appearance. “There’s another with your gifts?”

“Uh, hi,” Lisa waved her hand shyly at him. “Big fan of your work,”

Is Leonardo Di Vinci Ezio’s guy in the chair?! Okay, now that is seriously cool!

“If Vulture came through that gateway like you did, I assume he went somewhere else?” Ezio questioned as he took a step closer towards me.

The eyelets of Lisa’s mask lit up as she processed his question. “You know of the–?”

“Spider-Society, si,” He nodded firmly. “Although it has been quite some time since I last visited Miguel,”

“He was heading North towards my workshop, I’ll meet you there,” Leonardo nodded towards the pair before taking off back around the corner.

“I received Miguel’s message about Vulture’s return and set off to find him quickly. He sounded urgent, I wasn’t sure what the big deal was until I saw you fall behind him,” Ezio spoke up as he began walking.

Lisa quickly followed behind him, “Yeah, let’s just say the Vulture wasn’t too happy about wanting to go home. Kicking and screaming, as the saying goes. A part of me feels like it’s my fault for causing such a fuss,”

“Do not blame yourself, Spider-Muse, he was always a stubborn old man,” Ezio grinned as he looked back towards her with a reassuring glance. “Although I certainly wouldn’t say no to some assistance in calming him down, especially from a fine and capable one such as yourself,”

Lisa hated how that charm of his made her blush under the mask. After constantly repeating to herself I already have Miguel, she spoke up. “I’d be glad to help,”

“We’ll take the rooftops,” Ezio motioned for her to follow him. “I’ll try to explain everything on the way,”

Lisa followed Ezio as the two of them parkour and wall climbed their way up to the rooftops, jumping from one building to the next, making their way across the city.

“Alright, let’s do this one last time, shall we? My name is Ezio Auditore. I was bitten by a radioactive Italian violin spider after I was nearly murdered, and for the last 26 years I have been the one and only Spider-Man, present company excluded of course. You all know the rest. I sailed to Venice, killed some Templars, found a piece of Eden, did some sightseeing in Rome, and. . . I couldn’t save my uncle, and lost my family, but gained a new one. I liberated Rome from the Borgia’s tyranny, finding closure for the loss of my father and brothers. All the while, I learned all that I could of this legacy my father left behind, this Assassin’s Brotherhood, and the prophecy of the Spider. Now I use my gifts from both sides of the same coin to protect my home and the people I care for most,”

Ezio and Lisa made it to a large warehouse which she quickly assumed was Leonardo’s workshop he mentioned earlier. One of the windows was smashed to pieces, the silhouette a familiar winged figure.

“He must have crashed inside,” She mumbled as she steadied herself on a chimney.

“We’ll have to be vigilant, I don’t know if–” Ezio stopped suddenly.

Lisa could see the gears in his head turning. Was it his Spider-Sense? Or something else?

“What is it?” She asked him.

He brought his finger to his lips, signaling for her to stay quiet. He then pointed to an open rooftop that decorated overhead the side garden entrance of the warehouse. He jumped forward, scaling and leaping across some light posts and Lisa found herself following him.

They hunched down low and only when they had made it to the other side did Lisa hear two people arguing. She followed Ezio as the pair peeked over the roof to see Leonardo talking to a city guard.

“A witness claims to have seen you consulting with multiple enemies of the city,” The guard proclaimed.

“Consulting?!” Leonardo gawked at the claim, his eyes widening with disgust. “That’s preposterous!”

“So that’s not Antonio Tombs taking your ‘machine’ as you call it and flying around causing a disturbance?” The guard raised a brow at the man.

Leonardo sighed deeply, rolling his eyes as he slouched his shoulders. “As I have reported to you time and time again, yes it is my invention, but Antonio stole it! He was the one that built it!”

“So he built the other gadgets for the Assassino as well?” The guard narrowed his gaze at the man.

“Who?” Leonardo tried to play dumb, but the sweat that began dripping from his brow was a dead give away.

“Non giocare con me idiota! When was the last time you saw or spoke with Spider-Man?!” The guard demanded, stepping forward. - No playing games with me idiot!

When Leonardo didn’t answer right away, the guard swooped in with a punch to his face. He grabbed Leonardo by the collar, threatening another punch with his free fist.

“Maybe this will clear your head,”

It made Lisa’s blood boil. She was about to jump in to stop him until Ezio grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back. “I will deal with this. Go inside and see if Tombs is still there,”

Right, I can’t exactly do anything that could jeopardize the canon events here. I need to play it safe.

“Got it,” Lisa nodded firmly at him as he pulled his hand away. “Be careful,”

Lisa carefully maneuvered herself across the roof before sticking to the wall and web crawled her way around to the broken window. She jumped inside, landing on a wooden platform as she took in the space around her. Definitely a workshop. Tools and work stations were cluttered everywhere, albeit now in a bigger mess since Vulture’s crash. Lisa climbed down, walking across the main floor.

“Tombs? I’m sorry about the vacation comment from earlier!” She called out, her voice projecting across the room. “We can still talk about this, right?”

Silence. There was nothing but silence as she peered around the now dusty warehouse. That was when she felt it.

Her Spider-Sense kicked in again, the hairs on the back of Lisa’s neck and arms standing up. “Oh, SHOCK-!”

Vulture was behind her as he suddenly sprang up, catching Lisa in his hands. The next thing she knew they were shot up right through the roof and into the air. He clawed at her and Lisa punched, kicked and webbed him back.

On the ground floor outside, Ezio had detained and knocked the city guard harassing Leonardo unconscious and wrapped safely in a cocoon when they heard the crash and their pair of eyes locked on to our fighting forms. Lisa struggled to connect her webbing to Tomb’s skin. If she could manage it, she might be able to use her enchantment to put him to sleep.

“Don’t worry, I got this!” She called out to them as she landed a punch to Vulture’s jaw.

He growled, retaliating with his own strike as he suddenly grabbed her violently, plummeting into a nosedive as he turned and pinned Lisa as a shield.

“Nevermind, help, help, HELP!” Lisa yelped, her voice screeching.

They both crashed through the roof, making yet another hole in it as they collided into a series of shelves and tools. Multiple knick-knacks and papers scattered as their bodies tumbled along the floor, the only thing separating them was a large desk that was remarkably spared from the collision. Lisa groaned loudly as her body slowly stirred, her head peeking up towards their wrist and she froze.

Lisa’s gizmo was cracked, broken. The touchscreen sparking. That would mean–

“Oh crud. . .” she gulped and within moments, started glitching.

If the gizmo was broken, I couldn’t call the Spider-Society for back up. I couldn’t call Miguel for help.

Doors were flung open as Ezio and Leonardo burst into the room. They found Lisa’s glitching form on one side of the room, Vulture struggling to pick himself up on the other end and in the dead smack middle of the room was a work desk with a blinking gizmo on it. Ezio’s gizmo.

Ezio’s gaze hardened at the device. He knew what he had to do.

“Leonardo, I’ll keep Tombs busy,” Ezio instructed as he glanced over at his friend and pointed at the device. “Grab my Gimzo!”

“Really? It looks like a Goober to me,” Leonardo tilted his head to the side, staring at it.

Ezio facepalmed, grumbling under his breath. “Leonardo! Per favore!”

Vulture was starting to get up, and he noticed Lisa’s glitching body as she struggled to stand. He saw her as easy prey as Vulture began to stalk towards her body. Leonardo gulped at the sight, pushing back the sleeves of his tailored suit.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!”

The pair split up as Leonardo ran for the table and Ezio quickly web slinged forward. He whistled loudly, catching Tomb’s ear as the villain turned just in time to receive a kick to the face courtesy of the Assassin. He diverged his path towards Lisa, crashing into a painting that Leonardo had been previously working on.

“Oh great, now I have to start all over again!” Leonardo cursed, arms flailing.

“Leonardo, focus!” Ezio barked at the artisan as he swerved out of the way of an incoming attack by Vulture.

“I’m focusing!” Leonardo yelled back as he grabbed the Gimzo, beginning to examine it. “How does this feat of engineering work?”

In her injured state, Lisa glanced up towards Leonardo, watching him as he tried to decipher the machine. She could just barely catch a peek at the touch screen as the indicator blinked. Someone was trying to contact Ezio. I’d bet money on it that it was Miguel, no doubt about it.

“Use the–” I reached for him, only to glitch and collapse to the floor again, “-touch screen,”

The glitching startled Leonardo out of his trance as his gaze cast over Lisa with worry. Glancing between her and Ezio fighting the Vulture, Leonardo went around and carefully helped the woman up to her feet, wrapping her arm around his shoulders to let Lisa lean on him. “Let’s get you a safe distance away first,”

As Leonardo carried Lisa further away from the brawl, Ezio and Vulture were neck deep in their fight. Neither one of them seemed to want to back down anytime soon. Ezio moved with such grace and agility as he swerved out of the way of an incoming attack by Vulture’s wing, before launching two webs from his shooter and vaulting him forward to back flip Tombs right in the chin.

As Ezio’s body flipped over, he fired another pair of web slings to tug him towards Tombs and slam him right into a wall. Claws sprang from the toes of his boots to keep him anchored as he pinned Vulture beneath him. “Enough games, Tombs, stop this madness while you can still breathe air,”

“So long as there is breath in my lungs, I will never stop, and claim what is rightfully mine,” Tombs growled at Ezio, “I won’t let Di Vinci or a freak like you get in my way, Spider-Man!”

Tombs wiggled his hand free and toggled a switch on his utility belt. Multiple beeps could be heard from behind him as Ezio whirled his head around, finding almost a dozen tiny egg bombs scattered along the floor. Leonardo and Lisa were caught in its radius.

The way his wings were swinging at him earlier. . . !

“Bastardo!” Ezio snarled at Tombs as he shoved himself away from his body, web slinging across the room. “Leonardo!!”

Leonardo stopped running as he started to turn to Ezio, until finally the beeping of the bombs caught his ear. His eyes widened, and Lisa tried to react, but the glitching made it impossible for her to take action. Ezio quickly realized it was all up to him.

He used his webs to draw forth and collect the bombs one by one, wrapping them all in a giant webbed sack. He was getting to the last few when a mechanism of his web shooter clicked, metal banging against metal. His web cartridge was empty.

With a heave, Ezio chucked the sack of bombs away from him, launching it further into the room as he ran towards Leonardo and Lisa to shield them. “Get down-!”

*BOOM!*

The bombs exploded, the building shaking as tiny pebbles of rubble and dust rained down from the walls and roof of the building. The blast knocked the trio off their feet, sending them flying and tumbling to the floor. How the building was still barely standing was a miracle onto itself.

Dust and smoke filled the room, and the one upside was as Vulture pulled himself free from the wall after using his wings to shield himself from the explosion, he had trouble hunting his prey because the smoke was shielding their bodies. Ezio groaned, his head spinning as he managed to pull himself to his side. Leonardo was alive, but unconscious. Lisa was alive, but glitching still like before. It was only a matter of time before Vulture could pick her out from the smoke. She’d be an easy target.

Ezio gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up to his knees, fighting the pain that coursed through his body. He wouldn’t make it to Lisa in time. Try as he might, he wasn’t close enough. Another set of beeping caught his ear as he glanced over, seeing a small red dot blinking. He reached forward and through the smoke, grabbed his Gimzo.

If he couldn’t reach her, then he knew someone who could.

“Miguel–” Ezio coughed as he kept his voice low. “Lock on to my coordinates. Now. . .”

Lisa was starting to get herself back on her feet when she glitched again. The pain was so bad, a strangled scream shot through her throat as she collapsed to her knees. She took long, heavy breaths before her Spider-Sense kicked in again. Lisa looked up in the direction of the danger, but was slow to react as the Vulture swooped in and grabbed her.

He had her by the throat as he lifted her up into the air. Vulture glanced over, seeing Leonardo’s unconscious body, Ezio crawling towards the artist to protect him.

“I will deal with you in a moment,” he growled before returning his focus to Lisa, “It’s time I removed this thorn!”

Vulture raised a razor sharp clawed hand above his head, and Lisa would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t fearful for her life.

“No!” Ezio shouted.

Vulture motioned his hand down and Lisa’s eyes slammed shut, preparing for the strike. Only it never came. Vulture’s frustrated huff was what drew Lisa to open her eyes again and she gasped aloud when she saw it.

Vulture’s claws were being held back by thick, red, laser embedded webbing.

Lisa’s heart stopped as she glanced up towards the portal that opened before them, the sounds it produced making it seem like it was charging up its own attack.

“Oh Dio, per favore, not again–!” Vulture’s whining was short lived when Miguel O’Hara, Spider-Man 2099 came soaring through the portal and sucker punched Vulture.

His attack forced Vulture to release his grip on Lisa as she fell back to the floor, Miguel tackling the villain as the pair went flying across the room and slammed through a bookshelf. Lisa could just barely make out the sounds of Miguel beating up Vulture seamlessly as she felt a strong pair of hands grip her shoulders. She glanced back, looking at Ezio as he helped her sit up.

“Are you alright?” He asked her.

‘I’ll be fine as soon as I stop–” Lisa grimaced as she glitched in his hold, “-doing that,”

As Ezio helped her up to her feet, Miguel emerged from his brawl with Vulture, swinging back towards them. Vulture was down, but not out, as he quickly came back to check on the pair. “You two alright?”

“Si,” Ezio nodded.

“And your friend?” Miguel glanced over towards Leonardo’s unconscious body.

“Alive,” Ezio sighed in deep relief, tension draining from his shoulders from the breath he had been holding in.

Miguel’s expression under his mask was calm as he tossed something towards Ezio. “Use this,”

Ezio caught it in his hand and looked down, seeing a fancy looking medical capsule. “Thank you,”

Miguel nodded as Ezio began to tend to Leonardo’s injury before looking over at Lisa and without saying anything, took her wrist gently and slipped on a day pass. “I had a feeling,”

“Well, you thought right,” Lisa sighed in relief, offering him a grateful smile through her mask.

The touch was barely noticeable, but Miguel’s hand gently found its way up to her cheek, caressing it. Reassuring himself that Lisa was indeed alright. It was short lived when Vulture’s growling for air caught their ear as everyone turned towards him as he pulled himself free from the rubble.

His wings were busted, no signs of his Hammer Space ability revealing itself. He must be exhausted, too drained to try and trigger it.

“This is really getting ridiculous, Tombs,” Miguel narrowed his eyelets at the mask villain.

“I would have to agree,” Ezio stepped up beside him.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Lisa stated as the three Spider-Heroes stared Vulture down.

Vulture exchanged looks between the three of them, weighing his options. Soft groaning caught his ear as he peered down and noticed Leonardo arising from unconsciousness, as the famous artist raised a hand to his head. He made his choice it seemed.

He reached forward.

“The hard way it is,” Lisa reached out, firing her webs as they stuck to Tombs face. Temporarily blinded by the webbing, Vulture was distracted long enough for Lisa to take a deep breath, and sang. “Aaah ah aaaaah, ah aah ah ah aaaaaahhh~”

Lisa continued to sing her melody as her webs began to glow a transcendent gold hue, racing from her wrists to Tomb’s body. The longer she sang, the higher the octave before Vulture fell to his knees and collapsed on his side. Loud snoring quickly followed.

Lisa broke free of her webbing and when she looked back, Miguel nodded in approval, a faint smirk of pride behind the mask. Ezio looked on in fascination, hands on his hips. Leonardo on the other hand. . .

There were stars in his eyes as he gasped so loud, he was practically squeaking. “That was incredible!” He scrambled to his feet, struggling to keep his balance as he sprinted to Lisa’s side. “How did you do that?!”

“Leonardo, please,” Ezio’s cheeks flushed, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassing me,”

Lisa had a sympathetic look in her eyes as Ezio glanced at her apologetically. With her hand out, she let Leonardo examine her arm. She felt another presence behind her as Miguel approached, a protective gaze over his mask.

“How did you control him with your voice?” Leonardo asked as his fingers trailed down her arm, as if he were looking for a web shooter mechanism. “Does it involve you–”

His finger pressed down on a nerve as a slab of web fluid suddenly shot out from Lisa’s wrist and knocked over a knick-knack. Leonardo jumped back into Ezio’s arms, startled. “That came out of you?!”

“Yeah,” Lisa nodded before shooting Ezio a curious grin. “You can’t do that, can you?”

Ezio offered her his own lazy grin as he wiggled his own wrist to show off his web shooter before glancing down at Leonardo. The artist's cheeks blushed from his embarrassing scare, but also at the look Ezio gave him. Lisa smiled to herself, understanding.

She felt a strong, firm grip on her shoulder as Miguel grew closer, gently pulling Lisa to his side. She sighed deeply leaning into his touch. “I could really go for that dinner right about now,”

Miguel chuckled softly, his grip on her shoulder softening. “That sounds like a good idea to me,”

#assassin's creed #ezio auditore #leonardo da vinci #ac leonardo #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #collab #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 #margo #spider-byte #spidersona #spider-man #fanfiction #assassin's creed fanfiction #assassin's creed II #assassin's creed brotherhood

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atiny-for-life · 1 year

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Ateez's Full Storyline Explained - Update!

You know the drill - the original post was updated but here are the main updates brought on by the Halazia MV Reaction Video posted on Ateez's channel 2 hours ago:

Masterlist

Since we've got Yunho sitting inside a ginormous, shattered Cromer, we can assume these guys have already traveled through time and dimension to get here and are now stuck until they found another one to take them back home - wherever that home may be

Going by the lyrics, it sounds like they used to be regular citizens who grew up in Strictland and had their microchips removed - I'm largely basing that on the iconic "No more, keep control" and "No more, keep your soul" -> they want to be in charge of their own lives, to feel and have free thought as opposed to the mindless drones the chips had forced them to be

Regarding the Black Pirate outfits we're seeing throughout the video, I've got a running theory: they were originally inspired by them to join their movement and admired them but now, having seen their future and the broken state of it, they feel disillusioned - hence why we see them ritualistically burning them

I can only make a rather baseless guess as to what the purpose of the giant orb is but since it's actively rising here, it seems to be something newly installed that's meant to rise above city-level

The central government presumably built and installed it so maybe it can send out some kind of pulse or signal to regain control over the population - after all, the chips seem to have only had the link cut but weren't removed so re-establishing the link could be possible as long as the hardware wasn't fully fried (which would've probably needed harsher, more painful for the skin interference but what the heck do I know about this world's technological advances)

Either way, to me, that would explain both the fear in the lyrics about returning to their prior state of being pre-awakening, as well as why San was so ready to risk it all to break this thing

Given the size of the Cromer Yunho was sitting in, it seems like it also might have an affect on that - much like the moon which was also raised in the concert venues during their last tour - so maybe the idea is to completely put the city under a giant sunshield and disguise what is actually a giant transmitter for their propaganda-spiel as the moon, thus creating an eternal night for the masses. It would certainly be a big "fuck you" to the revolutionists who took down the previous window coverings to return sunlight to the people. And it would also make it far harder for them to hijack the transmission again.

#ateez #ateez lore #halazia #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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nenyabusiness · 1 year

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8 TV Shows

Tagged by @marimosalad and @iamstartraveller776 , thank you guys!

Rules: list eight TV shows for your followers to get to know you better

Rings of Power is a given, so I’m going to go outside the box here. Some of these shows aren’t The Best Shows Ever when it comes to objective quality, but I’ve chosen them because they’re important to me personally. I mean, getting to know me better was the point, right? Here we go.

- Attack on Titan

I 19 when Attack on Titan was released, and I had left my anime phase behind me. I was out and done and free, but then one of my best friends told me that there was this show I had to check out. I said no. He insisted. I said no. I went over to his house, he put on the show, he literally grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the couch and said “I AM NOT GETTING OBSESSED WITH THIS ALONE”, and that was it. The soundtrack hit me like a punch in the gut, and just like that, I was into anime again. I have yet to see a first episode of any show in any genre that hits you as hard as Attack on Titan. The premise (what if there were giants outside of our safe realm that are just a couple of really tall walls away from annihilating the human race?) is an odd one, but it quickly develops into something way deeper; exploring trauma, corruption, and how there is no “good” side in a war. No one is safe is safe in this show, and you will cry. Music is always important to me, and holy hell, some of the soundtracks of AoT always, and I mean always, give me literal goosebumps. It’s also special to me because I still watch every new episode with that same friend who forced me to watch the first one. It’s been ten years, we’re now reaching our 30s, but we still watch this show together.

- Jessica Jones

Season 1, to be specific. This one goes on the list because it has one of the most terrifying villains I’ve ever seen. Jessica Jones, an alcoholic wreck (and a trauma-survivor, as we later find out), is a private investigator with superpowers: strength and fast healing. Does she use these superpowers for good? No. She doesn’t want to be a hero. When our antagonist Kilgrave (played by David Tennant, my beloved), shows up in town, she’s forced to face the life she’s tried so hard to leave behind. Kilgrave has the power of mind control, which means that if he tells you to do something, you will do it, even if the act harms yourself or those you love. It’s a terrifying power, and he’s so damn good at using it. Even when we reach the end of the season, you’re still not sure if the good guys are going to win. Even at his lowest, Kilgrave always feels so… invincible. The final showdown between him and Jessica still sends shivers down my spine when I think about it. That final moment of their last interaction haunts me and makes me want to improve my own writing so I can one day create something that hits that hard.

- Love Between Fairy and Devil

Now we’re heading into C-drama. The premise is silly—the “devil”, a powerful demon who once conquered the entire world of the realm of the gods, is accidentally freed by a weak little fairy after centuries of imprisonment. Here’s when the delightful Enemies to Lovers aspect kicks in: they end up bound to each other in a way that links her mental and physical health to him. If she gets hurt, he gets hurt, which forces this infamously powerful conqueror to become a protector of a innocent little cinnamon roll of a fairy in order to protect himself. Neither of them is happy about this at all, but since this is an ETL, that’s obviously followed by an “at first”. The development of their relationship is sweet, surprisingly deep, and has the perfect pacing. The soundtrack is amazing, which is always an important aspect to me. This one makes the list because if I were to write an original ETL story, this is the kind of relationship development I would like to achieve. It’s perfect.

- The Good Place

One of my go-to shows when I want to watch something that I know will make me laugh. Elanor, our protagonist, is a terrible person, and when she dies, she ends up in heaven “by accident”. As the story develops, it turns out that nothing is what it seems, and suddenly you’re evaluating ethical dilemmas and learning Socrates’ theories and you’re enjoying it. It’s an ensemble show, and the characters are absolutely ridiculous but so damn lovable. The show also makes you think. You’re forced to think about your own morality, and reflect on your own worldview and the kind of ethics you apply to it. This show is pretty crazy that way. Hilarious and deep as fuck.

- Arcane

When people say “no League of Legends show had any business being this good”, they’re 100% right. The animation is gorgeous and can be analyzed for days because of all the symbolism. It’s an ensemble show, and the characters have so many layers that it’s impossible to decide whether they’re good or bad. They’re all different nuances of gray, with their own agendas and easily understandable motivations for everything they do. If you started watching it but never made it past the time skip, then for the love of god, go back. You need to see this plot unravel. (Great music. Always important for me.)

- Brooklyn 99

Another feelgood, go-to show for me. It always makes me laugh. In this case, I think it’s also worth mentioning that we have a canonically gay, black character who is not defined by that whatsoever. It has obviously affected his life, but when you think of Captain Holt, the first thought that pops up is not his sexuality. He’s the perfect example of a well-written LGBTQ+ character, and for me, a bisexual woman, this is obviously important. We need more characters like Captain Holt (and later Rosa, who comes out as bisexual). This is what good representation looks like.

- Game of Thrones

I don’t know if it even needs saying, but I’m obviously talking about the seasons that still followed GRRM’s plotline from the books. This show, in the beginning, had a similar appeal as Attack on Titan. No character is good or bad (except some outliers that fall pretty irredeemably on the evil spectrum), and no one is safe. I’d say this might be the first grim-dark high fantasy to ever manage to break out of the nerds-only space, and it left a permanent mark on pop culture as a whole. I remember running out of episodes around the Red Wedding, so I obviously ran straight to the books, even though I generally don’t have the patience for high fantasy. (BOOK CERSEI APOLOGIST FOREVER). Something that makes this show special for me is that I watched it with my dad. It was our thing, and it still makes me happy to think about how we used to make room in our daily lives just to make sure we could watch the show together. Also, the soundtrack is out of this world. “The Light of the Seven” is, in my opinion, Ramin Djawadi’s greatest piece of work (though it does share that first place with the Westworld version of “Paint it Black”).

- Death Note

Let’s open at the close with another anime. When I first watched Death Note, I was too young to understand half of it (English is my second language), but I still fell in love with it. I mean… it’s Death Note. You can’t compare it to any other show. The premise (what would you do if you found a notebook that killed anyone whose name was written in it?) is almost as bizarre as Attack on Titan’s, but it’s intriguing right from the start. I, like most people, obviously fell for the dynamic between Light and L; the genius high school student who decides to use the book to rid the world of evil, and L, the genius detective who’s taken on the task of trying to stop a mass-murderer who is clearly not playing by the rules of mere mortals. Most people consider Walter White as the perfect example of an anti-hero (a protagonist with villainous character traits), but he’s no Yagami Light. The show makes us root for this guy, and for L. Their war of intellect is insanely fascinating to watch, and it constantly makes you go, “yeah, this show is smarter than me”. If you haven’t seen this anime, watch it. The mental battles between these two geniuses seriously get your adrenaline pumping. To this day, people are still discussing what this show was actually about. Ethics? The social issues of Japan? The consequences of hubris? You can rewatch it and reach a completely different conclusion from your first watch, and then rewatch it again and see a new point of view. Oh, and the music is good. Obviously. (DO NOT WATCH THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION. THEY MISUNDERSTOOD THE ENTIRE PREMISE AND FUCKED IT UP. DO NOT WATCH IT. DO NOT WATCH IT.)

Thank you for tagging me (and sorry guys for being slow to respond, I had to think about this one).

Since I procrastinated and everyone seems to have done this one already, I’m going to do my usual lazy tag: if you want to do it, you’re tagged.

#not tolkien #tag game

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polhtones · 2 years

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Jenga dares

Jenga dares series#

Jenga dares free#

Yes, all the punishments are that intense, we only bring it out on "special occasions". One of my favorite dares is "friend the first 10 people on Facebook suggested friends" or suffer the consequences of 2 shots. Set up Jenga blocks: After all your Jenga pieces have a different rule on them, set your blocks up just like regular Jenga. The first one I made was a raunchy gift for a girlfriend with handwritten dares. Drunk Jenga Drinking Game Setup: Write rules on the Jenga blocks: Drunk Jenga is mostly like regular Jenga but with a twist To start, take your Jenga pieces and write a different rule, dare, game etc. This isn't my first handmade Jenga game, I must admit. It only cost me a total of $60 because I owned some of the supplies already, which is almost half the cost of the Sunnylife version! This project took me an hour and I will treasure it for a lifetime. However, I quickly snapped out of it and started cooking up my tutorial and gathering my supplies. My dream took a turn when I went to check out and noted the price, $110 buckaroonies!įor a brief second I almost forgot that I am a hand made queen and started thinking of my life without a rainbow Jenga game, it was very dreary indeed. I found myself on Anthropologie with this Sunnylife Giant Rainbow Jenga in my cart, daydreaming about how my family would deem me the MVP of the Summer for purchasing. I got inspired to create this when I, much like many of you, went searching online for fun games to play at home.

Jenga dares free#

4.5 out of 5 stars (32) 19.99 FREE shipping Add to Favorites Drunk tower - Drunk Tipsy tower - adult drinking game Ad by PRIKRDOLaserDesigns Ad from shop. So until next time, ありがとうございました to my A&M people.I don't know about you but I have been spending a lot of time outside this Summer and we all could use a rainbow after the storm we have been through cue my rainbow Jenga tutorial! Date Night Truth or Dare Jenga Ad by DateBoxClub Ad from shop DateBoxClub DateBoxClub From shop DateBoxClub. But I just want to thank Cruchyroll and Amazon for publishing this greatness that is Grand Blue. Along with the hope for Cakey to reveal true feeling for Iori or a someone else! (Naw its Iori). But, as we return to the arc next chapter with Iori’s revenge. It’s like a get away from the more serious plot that is happening right now. It’s always fun to get another half chapter. Along with how would Chisa feel about that. I wonder what would have happen if he had to do that dare tough. But, he still has to do the penalty at the end which is just the normal beat up and humiliation. It might just be me but Kohei this year especially has been my favorite of the series.Īs the chapter ends Iori doesn’t have to do the dare due to Kohei saving him. He just comes in the clutch very often its unreal.

Jenga dares series#

By saying that this year Kohei has become my favorite in the series right now. With them saying that he can take the penalty. But, he forgot how much of an asshole and very prospective his friends are. He really though that he could just slam his head against the table and take the penalty without anybody seeing his block. Kinda also revealing the cover page for this chapter being a spoiler you wouldn’t even realize without reading. But, you know karma is a bitch and as he picks up a white block(good one) it send him straight to the black one(really bad one). But, he was gonna be another dick and wait until after the game. As he finds out he was prepare to expose Nojima. That being the intensity of the dares being determined by the color. Iori finally finds out the secret of the game. Iori Finds Out the TwistĪfter a long game. Just an overall enjoyable roasting of one another. The part where they told Kenta to take a picture with a funny face and took multiple with his original was also funny. The typical virgin thing is just gonna live forever for Yamamoto and now for Nojima also after revelations. We get some other truths and dares in the game. So I will just reiterate that life ain’t easy for my boy Yuu. Cause he has two choices in life either end up dead at the bottom of the river or be in a very abusive and life threatening marriage with Rie. Cause she was not taking just kidding for an answer again. Well it looks like my boy is getting hitched for real this time.

#Jenga dares

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itsjuliak5 · 4 years

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✨💖 Comfort Videos 💖✨

(aka videos I watch when I need a serotonin boost)

1) Melting Every Candle from Bath & Body Works Together by Safiya Nygaard

youtube

2) First Time Watching Every *Twilight* Movie (Reactions) by Pretty Much It

youtube

3) That’s Cringe: Girl Defined by Cody Ko and Noel Miller. Honestly every That’s Cringe video is amazing.

youtube

4) Ice Cube, Kevin Hart, And Conan Help A Student Driver by Team Coco aka Conan O’Brien

youtube

5) Making Custom Nail Polish feat. Simply Nailogical by Safiya Nygaard and Simply Nailogical

youtube

There are more videos below, but you’re not allowed to have more than 5 videos and I didn’t want to ruin the aesthetic🤣

6) The Strangest Story On The Internet (w/ Drew Gooden) by Danny Gonzalez

https://youtu.be/hllf45NK-KA

7) Prank Calling Random Numbers We Dialed by Chris Klemens and Andrew Lowe

https://youtu.be/RsU8fQ9VAas

8) Buzzfeed Unsolved ~ Literally anything by them honestly

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2KKUcxAdjc&list=PLD8iUdp33PqSmH4NjDm6lk1YiNUhLCxj4

9) Watching Aquamarine (My Favorite Preteen Movie) by Maddison Bush

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jlfy_Yd8e6o

10) Spinning a Wheel to Decide My Sims Build by lilsimsie ~ Honestly all of Kayla’s build videos are super fun to watch.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uv5yMuW3ZKM&t=774s

Bonus! (kinda) I found a channel called, Auralescent. It’s an ASMR channel and the guy who uploads on it, Matt, has a variety of content for everyone from NSFW stuff to SFW stuff. It’s honestly pretty great, and I’m usually not into ASMR, but I thought I’d bring it up.

Here’s a funny video about him as an introduction of sorts:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cekDAdOoufg

* A lot of Simply Nailogical, Safiya Nygaard, lilsimsie, and “That’s Cringe” videos could be on here, but I chose those specific ones because I find myself going back to those videos the most. *

#feel free to send me some of your own and i can create a giant masterlist #comfort videos #youtube #safiya nygaard #cody ko #noel miller #danny gonzalez #drew gooden #pretty much it #buzzfeed unsolved #chris klemens #lilsimsie #maddison bush #andrew lowe #shane madej #ryan bergara #auralescent #sims #movies

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lazysimp · 3 years

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Normal Again /// Bakugou x Fem Reader (18+)

✧Click HERE to read Male version ✧

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A sequel to fine. You never expected recovery to be easy but you never thought it would be nearly impossible. In the weeks since your torture things between you and Bakugou had only grown more strained. Will you be able to save your relationship or is it a lost cause?

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings/tags: TW: Self hatred/violence, degradation (not in a sexy way), Angst, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (giving and receiving), Anal play, She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults, SMUT 18+ Only

masterlist┃AO3

A vicious laugh filled the air as Bakugou’s boot connected with your cheek sending your body flying towards the ground. His deep red eyes were full of glee watching you spit out blood from your busted cheek. He crouched down, looking at you as if you were filth.

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Just lying there taking it all. You are pathetic, honesty how did I ever see you as more than an easy fuck.”

“Stop it Bakugou,” you beg weakly. You could not bring yourself to understand how such cruel words could come from the same mouth that used to worship you.

His boot connects to your head once more sending blinding pain shooting through your skull. “Did you really think you were going to be with me forever? That I would tie myself to someone who can’t even stop themselves from getting kidnapped by a B-ranked villain.”

His boot rests on your face, its thick rubber sole indenting its print into your cheek. “The only reason I kept you around this whole time was that you spread your legs whenever I wanted. You are easy, too easy and the whole office knows it. They all laugh at you, at how much of a whore you are.”

Tears begin to leak from your eyes as he brought to light all your insecurities. You would rather he kept beating you than continue to torture you with his taunts. After every night of the same torture you had grown numb to the physical pain but no matter how hard you tried you could not escape his words.

“If it wasn’t for you I would have already climbed my way to the top. All you can do is hold me back from my dreams with your constant failures. You make me despise you.”

His heel digs into your temple creating an agonizing inescapable pressure. You were helpless to stop his merciless assault and you were not sure you even wanted to. All you really wanted was for all of this to stop. The constant pain and guilt had worn down your spirit, it was as though you had nothing left to even lose.

“Look at you just lying there taking it. Why don’t you fight me you pathetic bitch? Why don’t you ever fight?” He screamed, emphasizing each with a blow to your head. You reach up to cover your ears not wanting to hear anything else but your arms were trapped down at your side, held by some invisible force.

You try again to lift move your arms and then your legs but a warm tight hold tightened even further. Needing to escape the suffocating warmth you thrash around, lashing out at the invisible force.

“Shh, baby it is ok,” Bakugou said above you his boot still on your head. “This is all just a dream.”

You slam your eyes closed needing to escape the glaring red eyes that only brought you pain.

“Mimic is dead and will never hurt you again I promise,” Bakugou’s voice grows closer to your ear. This was your chance! You manage to free one arm and reach up, blindly scratching at any body part you could reach.

Your nails scream for mercy as you drag them viciously down his arm, their gliding made easy by blood. Despite the pain you know you must have caused, the invisible hold only tightened, trapping both of your hands.

“Please baby open your eyes, you are safe I promise.” Bakugou’s voice cooed softly trying to pry you away from your own mind.

You shake your head not trusting the voice, after all, it was the same one that had just been hurting you. With both your hands held still you are left with no choice but to use your teeth. You bite down on one of the arms holding you, sinking your teeth deep into the flesh until a rusty taste fills your mouth.

“Open your eyes my beautiful girl please,” Bakugou’s voice grew clearer, the malice you had been expecting surprisingly absent.

Reluctantly you relax into the warm hold and crack one eye open. A sweet smelling black tank top was the first thing you recognized. You blink your eyes a few times to clean them and get a better look around.

The cold dark room you had been in only moments ago was gone, replaced by a soft bed and warm blankets. The tight suffocating grip that had held you earlier is now a warm embrace.

You look at the strong arms holding you to your fiancé’s chest and wince. Deep red scratch marks littered his muscles and an already bruising bite branded his shoulder. With you no longer resisting he released your hands and started to run his fingers up and down your back. Despite his mask of relaxation, you could tell he was shaken up.

“I did it again didn’t I?” you ask weakly already knowing the answer.

Bakugou let out a sigh, “Yeah, it took me nearly ten minutes to get you back this time.”

Overwhelming guilt filled your mind for the second time tonight. You had hurt the man you loved because of some stupid dreams. It had been months since your rescue and still every night without fail you dreamed about it happening. It was like the torture never stopped.

“It is getting worse,” Bakugou says, continuing to pet down your back.

You nod weakly. He was not wrong. Neither of you had gotten a full night’s rest since the incident. No matter what pills you took without fail you dreamed about Bakugou. Logically you knew it was not Bakugou who had been the one to hurt you. He was your hero and his reward is you flinching from his touch and attacking him in your sleep. None of this was fair.

Bakugou’s lips softly pressed against your forehead as he pulled you in even closer. You ignored the spike of fear being close to him caused and tried to remember this was your Bakugou, not the sick twisted version Mimic created.

“We can’t keep going like this baby,” he says weakly. “I think I need to leave for a little bit.”

Absolute panic grips your heart, “No! Please don’t leave me. I’ll get better I promise. I will find another sleeping pill that one doctor prescribed worked for the first couple of weeks. We can figure this out, please don’t-”

“Shh,” Bakugou pulled you in closer. “Right now I am not good for you.”

You open your mouth to protest but he places his hand finger over our lips. “Baby you flinch every time I look at you.”

You wanted to deny his claim but remember how his eyes felt on your skin and shutter.

“My face, my voice, hell my smell are all triggers for you. I am hurting you by being near you. I am causing you pain by serving as a living reminder of your pain and I can’t do it anymore.”

Hot tears start to fall from your eyes. You hated how everything he is saying is not wrong. He is a walking trigger for the memories of that night and you had no idea how to get over them.

“So this is it,” you say, defeated.

“No, baby god no. You and I just need some time apart until you are ready to see me again. I am planning on staying at Deku’s for a bit, the nerd offered me his spare bedroom.”

Despair was the only thing you could feel. All of this was your fault and he should hate you for it but he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he hate you like you hate yourself? He should be screaming at you for causing all of this. The blame is yours and yours alone. If you had been just a little stronger you would never have been taken in the first place and none of this would have happened.

“Until I can get you to talk to me about how you are feeling I can’t help you. All I am doing is making this worse.” His arms started to loosen their hold around you and for the first time in weeks you wanted them back.

His arms pulled away completely, taking his warmth. “This is not permanent,” he assured. “It is just until you are ready for me to come back and I will wait as long as you need.”

You start to reach out for him, to beg him to get back in bed but the silhouette of him above you sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to rip everything apart, every time you made progress there was something dragging you backward.

You watch helplessly as he quickly dresses and leaves the bedroom, not looking back. You can’t blame him, you want to be free of yourself too. You could hear the front door to the apartment open and quietly shut, the lock clicking into place.

Life moved slower when you did not have your angry gremlin by your side. It had been a few weeks since he left and you had never been more miserable. At first, you had agreed to the separation, after all, he was a giant trigger but you were quickly realizing it was worse without him.

The anxiety of being alone at night had you reaching for your phone nearly every night, wanting to call him. It was a miracle you had managed to resist. With you not there to bother him maybe he would finally be getting some sleep.

The only communication you had gotten from him was a couple of texts letting you know he was still alive. You know he was trying to give you space but the longer he was away the more you wanted to drag him back home.

Your therapist had still not cleared you for fieldwork so the only thing you could to distract yourself was binge a couple of shows and try some cooking. Of course nothing you made tasted half as good as Bakugou’s cooking. By the end of the the first week your life consisted of sleep, tv, and takeout.

Your glazed-over eyes half focus on the tv in front of you as you are lost in your thoughts. You hear a knock on the door and rush over to open it. Could he have changed his mind and come back? For the first time in a long time hope filled your chest but it was quickly shattered as you look through the peephole. Uraraka stood still outside your door holding a few grocery bags.

You try to plaster on a fake smile and open the door. Uraraka did not wait for an invitation and barreled her way into your apartment.

“Hello to you too,” you mumble, closing the door.

She sets the floating bags onto the counter and releases her quirk. “Whew, you would believe the line at the store this morning. All the old ladies were fighting their way into the store for the 20% off sale. Of course none of them could beat me from being first in line.”

You snort, no matter how many brand deals and hero contracts Uraraka had she never stopped being frugal.

“How was your morning?” She asked, unpacking the many goods from the bags.

You shrug, “Same as always, watched some tv and pretend my life isn’t falling apart.”

Uraraka pauses and gives you a look of understanding. “You know he hasn’t forgotten about you, not for one minute.”

You look away, “What does it matter, our relationship is practically over. I have not seen him in weeks and even if I did see him I would make everything worse with my stupid fear.”

“You fear is not stupid, you went through something traumatic and need time to heal.”

You scoff, “I have had time. But every time I make any progress something triggers me and I fall right back down to where I started.”

“That is normal though! It took me weeks to even look at Deku without crying. You are both being too hard on yourselves.”

“I am tired of waiting!” You yell, finally letting your anger out in the open. “I miss him so much it hurts. I miss how he would hold me every night after he helped me bathe because I was too sore to even lift my arms. I miss how he would pack my lunch every day because he could not stand watching me go hungry. I miss my Bakugou.”

Uraraka wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you in tight against her chest, letting you sob. It was the first time in weeks anyone had touched you. Her soft hands traced up and down your back, trying her best to soothe the pain.

“I miss him so much,” you cry between hiccups.

“So why don’t you call him? I am sure he would be happy to hear your voice.” Uraraka pulls out her phone and starts to dial his number.

“No!” You snatch the phone from her hand and toss it over your shoulder. You wince as you hear the phone connect with the hardwood floor.

The hand on your back stills, “You are going to replace that you know.”

You nod, a worthy expense if it meant you did not have to confront reality just yet. At least with him gone you could pretend your relationship was not over.

“Stop saying that! Your relationship is not over. What the two of you need is a good conversation.”

You must have said the last part out loud. “What does it matter, even if we have a conversation and he moves back in I will end up having nightmares and keep him up for weeks. It is not fair for him to suffer through that for me.”

“Ugh!” Uraraka shoves you off her chest and stands. “Both of you keep pushing each other away based on some convoluted idea that you are actually protecting each other. It makes me want to pull my hair out!

You cross your arms over your chest, “Well I am protecting him.”

She rolls her eyes, “Sure.”

“Hey, don’t make me regret teaching you sarcasm. I’m being serious, my nightmares were getting so bad I started to attack him in my sleep.”

“No offense but Bakugou can handle you with his hands tied behind his back.”

“But he shouldn’t have to! It is not fair for him to have to worry if his fiancé will attack him in his sleep every night.”

“News flash, life is not fair. It was not fair when I watched the love of my life get skewered in front of me. It was not fair when I could not look at him for weeks without crying. And it was not fair when Mimic tortured you. None of this is fair or just, it is all shit we are given and sometimes it is more than we can handle.”

She holds your chin in her hands, “The only thing you are doing wrong is pushing away the person who you need the most.”

“But I hurt him when he is close,” you argue weakly.

Uraraka’s eyes softened, “You hurt him more when you push him away. His quirk is not mind reading, he has no idea how to help you, how you can both help each other.”

You knew she was right, that what you were doing was not working. But you were stuck, unsure how to even start talking to him again. Even so, you had to try.

“Alright, I will try giving him a call-”

Behind you, Uraraka’s phone rang, its piercing ring tone cutting you off. Your heart sinks, that ring tone only went off when a hospital was calling. Without a word, Uraraka bends down and picks up her phone from the floor.

“Hello, this is Uravity speaking,” she said into the phone.

You watch her face for clues and your heart grew even heavier as worry danced in her eyes.

“Are you going to transfer him to the Hero’s hospital in Tokyo?”

Your breathing stops. No, the world could not be so cruel. Your hearing grows fuzzy making it impossible to tune into the rest of Uraraka’s conversation.

“Hey,” someone said in the background. “Hey, I need you to focus. Bakugou is hurt, I am not next of kin so they won’t tell me anything about his condition. I am going to drive us over to the hospital, he should already be there by the time we arrive”

You nod, too stunned to speak. He was hurt. Your Bakugou was hurt and you were just standing around. Ignoring the pain in your chest your mind finally snapped into action.

Wordlessly you and Uraraka rushed down to her car below. The drive to the Hero’s hospital was short, only a few blocks from your apartment. The front entrance was already packed full of reporters trying to catch a glimpse of your injured hero.

You bite your tounge to stop yourself from cursing the reporters out. Those nosy assholes wanted to broadcast Bakugou’s pain to the public for a quick buck. Luckily disappeared from your sight as Uraraka drove past the and into the private parking lot.

Uraraka had not even put the car in park when you shoved open the door and ran to the sliding doors. You could hear her yell to wait behind you but you kept running until you found the front desk.

You skid to a stop in front of a shocked receptionist and slam your palms down on the counter, “Where are they taking Hero Dynamight?” You ask, holding your hero license out so she would know you were not a reporter.

The receptionist winced, “I am sorry but only allowed to disclose information to the family of the patient.”

“Well I am his wife and I am demanding to know where he is.” You retort, not caring about the implications of the claim.

“Dynamight is not married, his paperwork states he is a single but nice try.”

“Listen here you-” your rant was cut short by a soft hand on your shoulder.

“It was a private ceremony, they have still not made it public yet so there is now paperwork. I know that is not protocol but won’t you please let it slide this once ” Uraraka smiles sweetly trying to play cute to get what she wants.

The receptionist shook her head, “ I am sorry but I cannot allow anyone who is not documented family to visit any patient.”

You open your mouth to yell but Uraraka beats you to it.

“That is fine, thank you for doing such a great job protecting our heroes.” She gently grabs your bicep and pulls you away from the desk before you could say another word.

“What are you doing she is our only way of figuring out anything about Bakugou.” You hiss trying to pry yourself free from her hold.

“No she’s not,” Uraraka turns her head to look at you and smiles. “I spent a few weeks coming in and out of this hospital while Deku was recovering. Going through the main entrance is the easiest way but there is a locked side door. With enough force, it can be wiggle open.”

“Won’t it have an alarm?”

“Of course it has an alarm this is a heavily secured building. Luckily they have a well-trained hero there to investigate the disturbance,” she winked.

You laugh, being a hero did have its perks. It only took a few more turns before she found the small door.

“Now when I open this door a blaring alarm will go off and two security guards will come rushing from either end. I will handle the one on this side but you will be on your own for the other. Try not to hurt them too much.”

With that Uraraka wraps her hand around the door handle and pulls, her arm muscles bulging from the effort. You stand still, stunned to watch your friend pry open the solid steel door.

The door finally gives sending out a blaring alarm but you had already made it past the first couple hallways, hiding in a small doorway as a guard runs past. You wait another minute to make sure the coast is clear besides casually walking down the hallway until you found a nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible. “The front desk told me to ask you which room my husband is in.”

The oldest nurse looked you up and down skeptically, “What is your husband’s name?”

“Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Uh-hu sure, wait here a minute for me while I go find his nurse.” She turned and disappeared into the room behind the station.

Fuck, she was onto you. You slowly walk backward away from the door’s line of sight and rush down the hallway looking desperately for Bakugou. He had to be here somewhere but the hospital was a maze of hallways and doors with no names on them.

You could not yell out for him that would only alert security to your position faster. You spin on your heels looking frantically for any sign of him but the more you look, the more lost you become.

“Hey! You cannot be back here,” A security guard yelled, a taser already armed in his hand.

You put your hands into the air, looking to your side for an escape. You could handle one petty security guard but you did not feel like explaining to the commission why you beat a guard. Sucking in a deep breath you run towards the officer who was too shocked to pull the trigger on the taser. Sticking your leg out you kick his feet out from under him sending his back to the floor.

Without looking back you run down the hall taking as many turns as you could to find a hiding spot. One of these rooms had to have no camera in it.

In your frantic looking, one door stood out. It was off to the left in a dead-end hallway. It had to be a good enough hiding spot as any. You sprint to the door and swing the door open into a pitch-black room.

You felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of entering the darkness but you had no choice, security was hot on your heels. You close your eyes and step into the darkness, closing the door behind you.

Your back rests against the door and you listen to the guards run past the hallway. For now they had no idea where you were. You let out a sigh of relief and feel around the wall for a light switch.

Mercifully, you find it and switch it on. The room looked like any other hospital room except for one thing. There was someone in the bed and they were about to look up.

Shit! You duck under one of the tables in time to hide from their view.

“Oi, I thought I told you people to leave me alone! I already took the damn pills and agreed to stay the night.”

Your breathing stops at the deep rough voice of Bakugou. You found him; he is not in a coma fighting for his life. He is in bed resting safely just feet away from you. A sob of relief climbs your throat, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to mute it.

The rush of blinding fear to find Bakugou suddenly turns into fear about seeing him. What if he did not want you to visit? Fuck you should have thought about this more before you left.

“I can hear your breathing! Don’t make me get out of bed or I will kick your ass.”

Not wanting him to hurt himself by standing you relent and force your weak knees up. You keep your eyes to the floor not daring to look at his face, “Surprise,” you tease weakly.

“W-what?” Bakugou said, his voice high and full of confusion.

“I-I heard you got hurt, no one was telling me anything, so I decided to come and check up on you myself. But I see you are fine so I will leave you alone. I am sorry for barging in.”

“Wait! Don’t leave,” Bakugou winces as he sits up in bed, his abdomen covered in bandages. Instantly you rush to his bedside.

“Don’t move that fast you will hurt yourself!” You lecture, gently pushing him back down to the bed. Bakugou looks down at your hands with shock, you had not touched him caringly since the incident.

You quickly realized your hands were still on him and snatch them back to your side. You stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. It was like the months of being together had been erased since he had left.

“W-what happened?” You finally ask to break the silence.

Bakugou looks down at his hands, “Some stupid kid ran out in the middle of the fight and almost got themselves killed. I didn’t have enough time to get them out of the way, so I had to shield them instead. Damn villain managed to shoot me.”

“You got shot!”

“Yeah, pathetic asshole knew he could not take me without a gun. Lucky for me he had terrible aim and managed to only graze my side. The only reason I am still in this stupid bed is because Rescue Girl is on vacation and refuses to come in and heal me.”

The heavy weight on your heart lifted slightly knowing he was not seriously hurt but you still worried about his current condition. Bakugou was not one to sit around until he felt better. In the time the two of you had been together he only got sick once and it took tackling him to the ground and tying him up in bed to keep him from working.

You knew him and Deku were on good terms now but dealing with a hurt Bakugou was a full-time job. “How long did the doctor say you have to be off work?”

Bakugou scoffed, “She thinks I have to wait at least a week even with Recovery Girl. As soon as I can escape this bed I will head back to the office I have a villain to hunt down.”

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh no you won’t. If the doctor tells you to wait a week you will wait a week.”

A mischievous grin spreads across Bakugou’s face, “Oh, and how are you going to enforce that?”

Blood rushes to your face making your cheeks feel like they were burning. To keep him from fighting his restraints the last time he was sick you had to fuck him until he was too tired to care he was chained up. By the time he had recovered from being sick you could barely walk and he had to be the one to take care of you.

“Don’t look at me like that when you are hurt.”

“Then answer the question, how do you plan to keep me from working this week.”

“What are you five? Do you really need an incentive to be good?” You taunt.

A wolfish grin spread across his face, “Yes.”

You throw your hands up in the air, “Ugh, you are terrible!”

His hand reaches out and grabs your wrist to pull you in closer to the bed and for a second fear flashes in your eyes. All of the teasing had made you forget your fear but his touch brought is all back.

Bakugou sensed the change in your demeanor and opened his hand to free you from his touch.

“Wait, don’t move your hand,” you suck in a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”

His warm long fingers wrapped themselves back around your wrist, holding still as you try to calm your heart. You were stronger than this fear. You could do this.

“Baby, you don’t have to push yourself, I understand-”

“No!’ You yell, taking a step closer to his bed. “This is ok, I will make this ok again.”

You avoid looking at his face, needing to build up your strength before testing your limits. Being separated from him had helped your memories heal some but it was still difficult to see him.

Forcing the tight fear in your chest down you intertwined your fingers through his and pull them up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It is easier when I control where you touch,” you mumble to him, trying to follow Uraraka’s advice.

“What?” Bakugou asked, unsure what you meant.

“When you are the one controlling the touching, it makes me nervous because I don’t know what will happen next. It makes me feel like I have no control and that is when I start to freak out.”

You look down to where your hands were joined, “When I am leading the touch I have some idea of what will happen next and it is easier to not feel scared.”

“So you have to be in charge?”

“I don’t have to always be in charge, I just need to know what you are thinking, what you are doing before you do it or I need to be guiding it.”

Bakugou smiled, “So if I told you to sit on my face would that work?”

A few incoherent words fall out of your mouth as you try to process what he just said.

“Well, maybe, but you are hurt and need your rest. Besides, you should not be thinking about that while you are lying in a hospital bed. When you are discharged, we can try something like that.”

Bakugou sat up straighter, “Oh no you don’t. I have gone without your taste on my tongue for too long. You are going to get that sweet ass over here and sit on my face.”

“No, Bakugou. Look at the state of you. I could seriously hurt you.”

That was the absolute worst thing you could have said, in seconds his teasing eyes filled with fiery determination. The last time he gave you that look was when you rejected going on a date with him. A week later he had your legs wrapped around his waist.

He lifts his finger and points to you and then his face, “Come here.”

You stubbornly shake your head, “This is not happening Bakugou. You could tear your stitches and have to stay in the hospital even longer.”

He shrugs, “Fine with me as long as you are here.”

This damn man must be suicidal. “We need to talk more about our relationship before we dive right into sex.”

“Your mouth will be free and clear to talk.”

“This is an awful idea. What if I get freaked out in the middle of it all?”

“That’s easy, we stop,” he gently pulls you in closer his face now only inches away.

“Please baby I have missed you; I promise I will stop if it gets too much.”

You were conflicted. Neither of you were in a state where you should be fooling around. But the feel of his hand on yours was so calming and warm that you wanted more.

“Alright,” you whisper. “But If you are in any pain you need to let me know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now get that pretty ass up here,” he pats his shoulders.

“This is such a bad idea,” you mumble to yourself as you slip off your pants while Bakugou lowered the head of the bed. This could go wrong in so many ways but the longer you thought about his tongue on you the less you cared.

“Fuck baby,” Bakugou groaned, “Climb up, you won’t hurt me.”

You toss your pants to the side and do as he said. Climbing up onto his bed and carefully lowering yourself over his face. Your face was burning at the thought of what all he could see. Needing support, you grab ahold of the headboard. After all you did not want to hurt him. Bakugou was not having that. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down until you had no choice but to rest your weight on his face.

“Wait, you could hurt yourself,” you protested breathlessly.

He only laughed, his hot breath teasing your aching cunt. He sat still under you for a few minutes letting you get adjusted to the feeling of his touch, and it let him soak in the sight of you above him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your thighs. Not wanting to move too fast he first places a few sloppy kissing along with your inner thigh, giving you ample time to mentally prepare for his mouth on your cunt.

You try to stop yourself from shaking but it was impossible. It had been months since someone had touched you and to have Bakugou beneath you, ready to worship your body, was almost too much for your brain to process.

Bakugou’s mouth teased your other thigh before settling on your already soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my good girl, already wet for me. This pretty pussy knows who it belongs to, but does its owner?”

“Bakugou stop talking to my pussy and get to work,” you growl.

“Tsk, when did you become so greedy?” The hands on your thighs shift around until they were able to spread open your sex giving him complete access to you.

“You are lucky I miss this just as much as you do or I would tease you for hours. Tie your ass to the bed and not let you leave until neither of us could move.”

You rock your hips trying to egg him on, “Sounds to me like you are all talk.”

The hands on your thighs tighten forcing you to put all your weight onto his face. You try to pull yourself up, not wanting to suffocate your boyfriend but he refuses and goes straight for the kill. His soft wet tongue drags a straight line up the slit of your cunt, gathering up your juices.

Your hands abandon the headboard and thread through his hair. Bakugou groaned, settling into feasting on your cunt. His soft lips slide through your folds, looking for your hidden button.

“Ah please Bakugou,” you beg, “it feels so good.”

You could feel his smile against your skin before his mouth latches onto your throbbing clit, dragging it into his mouth.

While his lips teased your clit, one hand left your thigh to snake around under you. You lurch forward as two thick fingers slip through your folds, wetting themselves in your slick before they gently press at your entrance.

Your hips buck away from the combined sensations fearing to be too much but Bakugou was not having it, he strengthened his hold on your thighs and pushed you down on his fingers. You sob at the feeling of being stretched, it had been so long the burn was more intense than normal.

“Fuck baby you are so tight around my fingers, I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” he groaned.

“Bakugou,” you whined. “You can’t just say things like that.”

He releases your clit with a pop, “Like what? Like how I want to feast on this pussy until you are all I can taste for weeks. Like how by the time I am done with you, you will be a sobbing mess that I will have to take care of. Just listen to this sloppy pussy take my fingers. Fuck baby people would kill for even a sliver of this cunt but too bad for them it is all mine.”

You shove a fist in your mouth to stifle a loud moan. The last thing either of you needed was someone barging in.

Bakugou pulled your aching bud back between his lips and got to work. The two fingers inside you started to pump, curling to hit your sweet spot each time they were inside you. His delicious tongue flicked up and down on your clit driving you mad.

Trusting you would not run away he releases your other thigh and reaches under your shirt. His large hand stroked up your stomach, caressing the skin there before latching onto one of your nipples. He pinches the soft peak between his fingers, rolling it until it pebbles. You arch your back into his hand and start to rock your hips wanting more.

Bakugou moans into your cunt, able to tell you were growing lost in the pleasure. He loved it when you were too engrossed with feeling good to care about anything except him.

Looking down in between your legs you could see his light blonde hair peeking out from the apex of your thighs and had a devilish idea.

“Bakugou stick out your tongue,” you order.

He releases you from his mouth and looks up, his chin soaking with your juices, “What?”

“Stick out your tongue, like this,” You show him with your own mouth.

A spark of recognition flashed in his eyes and he smiled. Good, he liked the idea too. With no delay, his tongue stuck out of his mouth. You reach down and spread yourself open, settling back over Bakugou’s eager tongue. His fingers abandon you in favor of holding onto your ass while you dig your fingers into his hair.

With both of you settled you slowly begin to rock your hips, riding his tongue. You start off slowly, watching closely for any sign Bakugou was not comfortable but judging by his growl of pleasure you would say he is just fine.

A red hot warmth started to grow in the lower half of your body, slowly spreading its tingle to your lower belly. Fuck, the image of Bakugou beneath you, letting your ride his face was almost too much to process.

“Oh god Bakugou,” you moan. “Please, it feels so good.”

He could only groan in response, his mouth too busy bringing you to your peak. When you looked down at him between your legs you could only see his bright lust filled eyes. They were intensely watching you fall apart.

White spots started to grow in your vision and you increase the speed of your thrusts. The fingers in his hair tighten, now holding onto him for dear life. It only took a few more rocks of your hips before the white spots grew into a blinding white light.

Overwhelming waves crashed into you, sending glorious pleasure pulsing through you. Your body was not your own as the electricity ran through you making every muscle grow taunt and release in a never-ending cycle.

Bakugou redoubled his effort, not letting you even finish your first peak before he was building you up to another. The idea that you would feel that pleasure again was enough to make you mad.

His fingers slipped into your clenching entrance and curled forward, teasing your sweet spot. His lips returned to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and lashing at the tender bud with his tongue.

You release his hair, afraid you will rip it out, and hold onto the headboard as all the clenching tension finally releases, sending you spiraling. Loud wanton moans ripped from your throat and you could do nothing to stop them.

Bakugou toyed with you until you could no longer hold yourself upright. Only then did he gently lift you off his face and down onto his lap. You slouch over and rest your forehead on his shoulder. The world around you was fuzzy, your mind still reeling from how hard you finished.

“Wait, Bakugou you are not supposed to be lifting anything!” You yell when your mind finally returns to reality.

“Tsk, I already told you I am fine.”

You fought the urge to slap him, “You idiot what if you had busted open your stitches!”

“You did not seem too worried about that when you were rubbing your cunt on my tongue.”

“Well, obviously I was not thinking straight,” you mumble. Damn him for being right.

Bakugou gives you a sly smile, “You know I am feeling a little sore.”

Regret slams into you, “Damn it Bakugou, I was worried this would happen. Where are you hurting.”

His hips thrust upwards forcing his rock-hard cock against your ass. “Right there baby.”

You flick your finger against his forehead, “I was really worried you asshole.”

“But it aches, won’t you make it feel better?”

“You are lucky you are hot,” you whisper into his ear before carefully descending his body. You settle in between his legs, pulling down the blankets to free his cock.

You have to stop and stare at it. Everything about your boyfriend had to be perfect. His cock was long and proud, resting on his stomach with a small tuft of blonde pubic hair at the base. His cock had one large vein running up the length of it, pulsing with each heartbeat. God, you wanted to trace that vein with your tongue.

Reaching up you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He was so warm on your hand, like your own personal space heater. You shuffle your body to get your mouth a little close to his cock and then before he could say anything bring the head of his cock into your mouth.

His reaction was instant, his hands shot down to grab at the sheets beside your head. You could feel his hips flex under you as he fought the urge to thrust up into your mouth.

Feeling emboldened by his reaction you relaxed the muscles in your jaw and took more of his length into your mouth. His salty flavor spilled across your tongue as he started to release pre-cum. Your poor baby had gone too long without any attention.

Redoubling your effort you bring up your free hand and wet it with your spit. Reaching under your busy mouth you slide your finger down until you find Bakugou’s tight entrance.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?” Bakugou growls, grabbing your wrist.

You let his cock fall out of your mouth and look up innocently, “I am making you feel good baby, just lay back and relax. I promise this will feel good.”

He looked conflicted but slowly the iron-clad grip on your wrist loosened enough to set you free. Not waiting for him to change his mind you begin to circle his hole with your wet finger. Before you could even try to push your finger forward you needed him to relax. You return to teasing his aching cock with your mouth, sucking on his tip just the way he likes all the while circling your finger around his hole, waiting for him to relax enough for you to slip it in.

As you take another inch of him into your mouth you could feel him relax enough to slip your finger slip past the tight ring of muscle. You could feel Bakugou tense so you did not move the finger forward, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion.

With your tongue on his dick it was easy enough to distract him as you slowly inch your finger in. Once you went in far enough you twist your finger around, looking for a soft spongy spot inside him. A sharp thrust up into your mouth signaled you had found exactly what you were looking for.

“What the fuck,” Bakugou groaned, his hands going to hide his face. You smirk, finally, you were the one driving him insane.

You benign to move your hand and mouth on his cock in time with your finger in his ass. Small pathetic whines were leaving Bakugou’s mouth and you felt like a god. You were so engrossed in bringing him pleasure you had no time to think about anything else.

You could hear his breathing begin to grow more labored and his cock grow even harder in your mouth. “Fuck, baby I am going to-” Was the only warning you had before his cum shot to the back of your throat.

You swallow his release down, making sure to ease your hold on his cock, now only gently pumping your hand and finger to lengthen his orgasm.

Slowly the pulsing of his cock stopped and you released him from your mouth, wiping the spit on your chin off with the back of your hand. You could not help but smile as you watched Bakugou slowly come back into the real world with a beautiful dazed look on his face.

He slid his hand under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes, “Where the fuck did you learn that?”

“Being away from you for this long made me desperate so I watched a couple of videos to make it easier.”

“Right,” he said breathlessly, “You need to show me that shit later if it taught you that.”

You laugh, “Gladly. Now lay down you need your rest.”

Bakugou tilts his head, “What the hell do you mean rest? I have not been away from you for too long, I can rest later. Now I am going to get my cock into that tight pussy.”

“Bakugou you just finished.”

“So,” he thrusts his hips up, rubbing his already erect cock against your ass.

“How?” You ask in amazement.

“I have been fantasizing about fucking you for months baby. Did you really think once would be enough to satisfy me?”

Without waiting another minute his hands grab into your hips and lift you up. Lining your entrance up with the tip of his cock. In a flash you involuntarily tense your body, the memories of that night rushing back into your head. No, no, no, not now, not when you were so close to being one with Bakugou again.

His bright red eyes meet yours as he feels you tense. Fuck, why did you always mess everything up, this was all your fault. Why could you not just be normal, that is what he deserved a nice normal happy girl.

“Hey,” Bakugou whispered softly. “Talk to me, what is wrong.”

You wanted to keep your lips shut, to pretend that everything was fine but that would be lying. You never wanted to lie to him.

“I can’t stop thinking about Mimic. One minute I am fine and the next he is all I can see.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, “You were fine with what we did earlier? What triggered it?”

You shake your head, “It is different every time. It is just hard for my mind to differentiate from my Bakugou and the one Mimic made.”

“So call me Katsuki.”

“Huh?”

“If you are having a hard time with there being two Bakugou’s, then try calling me Katsuki. That way there is at least one easy way to tell me apart from him.”

“You want me to call you by your first name?”

His eyes softened, “Yeah baby, I want you to call me by my first name.”

“Katsuki,” You test his name out, loving how it feels on your tongue. You watch his face to see his reaction and see lust fill his gaze. Oh he liked it.

You start to whisper his name over and over again, like a prayer to remind yourself you were no longer under Mimics thumb. You were with the man who would kill anything that tried to hurt you.

“If you keep saying my name like that baby I am going to fuck you,” Katsuki growled into your ear.

Oh would he now? You wiggle your hips, teasing the head of your cock with your dripping slit. Pulling him in close you whisper one little word, “Katsuki.”

“You asked for it,” He laughed, hauling your hips back up until they hovered over his cock.

The hands on your hips gripped down with bruising force and his cock slipped into your entrance. All the play from earlier had left you more than prepared enough to take his length. The familiar burn started as his cock sank deeper inside you, opening you wide for him.

“By the time I am finished with you, this tight cunt is going to be fucking dripping in my cum. I am going to fill you to the fucking brim.”

A low groan was your only response he bottomed out inside you, his cock leaving no space unfilled. You could damn near feel him in the back of your throat. Normally he would be the one to initiate thrusting but you were growing too impatient.

Bracing your hands on his chest, careful to avoid his bandages, you lift your hips up until only the tip of his cock was inside. Then you slam your hip down, marveling at the feel of him entering you again.

His cock was perfect for hitting all the sweet spots inside you. Not wanting to be left out Katsuki grab ahold of your ass and uses his own strength to strengthen each thrust.

You look down to where you both were joined and almost came on the spot. The sight of his cock pistoning into you was mind-shattering. He looked like a god beneath you. His large muscles building with effort, the thick veins in his arms standing elevated.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his bright red eyes filled with determination. “Right now you are mine, that means the only thing you are allowed to think about is me. About how good my cock feels splitting you open. Is that clear?”

You weakly nod your head, too overwhelmed to speak. A soft smile spreads across his face, “That is my baby, so good for me.”

His praise felt like a caress on your skin. You needed to distract yourself or this would end too soon. You lean forward and press your lips onto his. His tongue glided along the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You happily opened your mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside. The taste of his spit was mixed with your own flavor, and you still had some of his taste on your tongue. The combined flavor was so fucking lewd and hot.

The familiar tingled started to grow in your pussy, you were not going to last long. The muscles in your legs begin to tremble making your thrusts grow sloppy. Katsuki was not having it. His hips rose to meet yours, forcing your body to endure even more pleasure all the while he toyed with your mouth.

It all became too much, the different sensations all worked together to drive you up, higher and higher you were climbing until it was hard to even breathe. Then, just like that, all the pressure released sending you spiraling.

Your pussy clamped down on his cock, forcing Katsuki to erupt. The thought of him filling you only lengthened the brutal pleasure filling your mind. There was no room in your mind for anything but him. You had no care in the world but him just like he ordered.

As the pulses of pleasure slowed you were able to finally catch your breath. You both laid still in each others arms for a few minutes, letting you come slowly back to earth. Of all the times the two of you fucked this definitely had to be in the top three. Though they did say that makeup sex was the best.

“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asked, his voice rough.

You rest your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “I feel good.”

He places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Do you think you are ready for me to come home?”

You take the time to think about it. Having him back in your life did not set off fear like it used to. Instead, it made you feel warm inside. You looked forward to going to bed with him instead of dreading it.

“Yeah,” you smile. “Yeah, I am.”

The arms around your waist tighten pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. You snuggle in closer, getting comfortable. Katsuki would never admit it but lying here with you in his arms safe and happy was one of the happiest moments in his life.

Neither of you was healed from what had happened but you refused to push him away again. You will get past what happened and you will do it with him by your side.

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infinitefandomimagines · 3 years

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Things the hq boys secretly love pt. 1

WARNINGS: language, some suggestive content

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CHARACTERS: Iwaizumi Hajime, Suna Rintarou, Bokuto Koutarou, and Sakusa Kiyoomi

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part 1 , part 2

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

• when you use his body wash, cologne, shampoo, etc. basically anything that makes you smell like him.

• makes him go absolutely feral inside.

• started one day when you ran out of your own body wash and you just used his instead. so when you went to hug him after your shower and he got a giant whiff of his body wash clinging to your figure? oh boy, he was done for.

• "sorry hajime, i forgot to buy more body wash yesterday so i just used yours, i hope that's okay."

• "yeah, it's fine."

• iwaizumi hajime is indeed not fine.

• he's all cool and collected on the outside, but internally he's losing his mind and thinking some not so safe for work thoughts.

• he starts doing things like: buying the larger bottles of his body wash, putting your body wash behind his or on a higher shelf, giving you clothing doused in his cologne, one time he even hid the new bottle you'd just bought for a few days before he "miraculously" found it.

• don't get me wrong, he absolutely loves the way you smell and all of your products, but there's just something about you smelling like him that gives him an odd sense of pride and makes his heart race.

• he never directly tells you he likes when you smell like him, but he'll drop little hints like saying "you smell nice" and "i like the new body wash you're using."

• "haj, this is your body wash?"

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SUNA RINTARO

• when you film and take photos him instead of the other way around.

• he's literally always filming and taking photos of you, even has a whole album that consists purely of content of you. so when you decide to start taking revenge by doing the same, suna's heart soars.

• you even created his own little folder in your phone and he thinks its absolutely adorable.

• but that doesn't mean he isn't a little shit about it

• will 100% pretend to hate and be annoyed by it, but deep down he finds it endearing. not that he'd ever admit that.

• you'll catch him doing something subconsciously or just plain stupid. really anything you deem adorable and want to save and cherish for later.

• you even caught him dancing around while he was cleaning once.

• when he catches you filming he just stops whatever he's doing and his face settles into this deadpan expression. he’s all pouty and you'll let out this little giggle that melts his heart (but he's gotta keep up his "over it" act)

• mf is just like "cut the cameras. deadass."

• if you catch him doing something embarrassing he's not afraid to chase you down and tackle you in retaliation.

• gripes about you deleting it (which you always refuse to do) and then five seconds later will be like "...can you send it to me?"

• he may act all huffy about it in the moment, but he absolutely loves that you cherish these moments with him so much that you want to document them.

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BOKUTO KOUTAROU

• when you crash boys night.

• you try not to do it too often because you respect his free time and his friends. but every now and then you'll come home a little earlier than planned or need to bring bokuto something he left at home.

• every time without fail, bokuto perks up with excitement and invites you to hang with him and The Boys™️ despite your intrusion.

• you've always thought he was just being nice because you're his s/o, but he genuinely wants you there.

• he loves that you make an effort to get to know his friends. it shows him you care about his personal life and those he's closest to. he really does want you to get along with his friends and vice verse

• at first his friends are a little dismissive of you, but they warm up to you pretty fast. they all secretly have a little soft spot for you after seeing how happy you make bokuto, but that doesn't mean you're exempt from teasing.

• kuroo flirts with you every now and then just to push bokuto's buttons.

• all of this also extends to when you invite him out with your friends.

• the fact that you also want him to get to know your friends and be part of that region of your life warms his heart.

• all of your friends love him of course, they think he's adorably hilarious. plus, they see how happy he makes you, so he's got their approval.

• basically what i'm saying is please invite this sweet boy out with you, and don't feel guilty about crashing boys night. he loves that his friends are becoming yours and vice versa.

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SAKUSA KIYOOMI

• when you never fail to ask for consent before touching him (besides the obvious consent you both ask and give before nsfw acts).

• you're very aware of his germaphobia, and ever since you met him you've always been extremely respectful with his boundaries, even after the two of you started dating.

• the first time you asked was when you first met him. "is it okay to give you a hug?" "no."

• he was floored when you didn't even seem offended by his short and cold response. you just gave him a smile and an "okay!" and then moved on. uhh, why are his cheeks suddenly heating up?

• however, once he got more comfortable with you in your relationship, he told you that you didn't have to ask to hold his hand, cuddle, or give him a hug or a kiss. it was a big step for him and it didn't go unnoticed by you.

• but he can't deny that it warms his heart that you still ask.

• sometimes you'll look at him with raised eyebrows and he'll give a little nod of consent. other times you'll just pause your actions and wait, allowing him to make the first contact. but most of the the time you'll just straight up ask him.

• "is this okay?"

• "that's fine love, but you know you don't have to ask every time? you're my s/o after all."

• "yeah, i know."

• this man is putty in your hands

• he'll keep telling you that you don't have to ask anymore (he doesn't want you to feel awkward around him) but you assure him you don't mind and continue to any ways.

• he won't admit it, but he secretly loves that you still do. it shows him you respect his boundaries and care about him enough to put aside your own wants for his comfort.

—

A/N: i plan on having several more parts to this hc, and i already have a few other boys planned, so let me know who you want to see next!

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

#bnha 313 #midoriya izuku #lady nagant #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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write-like-you-mean-it · 3 years

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Kinks Each Nekoma and Fukurodani Member has

Due to the great reaction from my Karasuno and Aoba Johsai, I have done Nekoma and Fukurodani. I have included the most prominent the boy volleyball players in this. I hope you enjoy what kinks each of them have. I tried to have some variety. Tell me your your head cannons! If you have any suggestions, feel free to message me. Reblog and like if you enjoy please!!

Nekoma

Tetsuro Kuroo: Rigger

Nothing is prettier in the eyes of Kuroo than you wrapped in red rope that rarely stays hidden for long when you two are home alone.

He’ll spend as long as needed to get you into the position. If you complain or tell him he’s taking too long, it’ll only make him spend more time dedicated to his craft.

Kuroo loves seeing rope burns on your skin. Of course he’ll take care of them when he’s not filling up every inch of your pussy.

When you don’t listen to his commands, he’ll pull on the closest rope and stop the movement of his hips.

“I’ll need you to tell me that you’re sorry before I let you go, beautiful.” One apology is never enough. He’ll wait until you’re crying for him to move before he’ll even think about giving into your desire. Then he’ll punish you with the most brutal speed possible.

Morisuke Yaku: Degradation/brat

Yaku’s sarcasm led its way into the bedroom as soon as you allowed him to see you naked

.He loves his significant other to fight against what he commands in hopes he can call you “a disgusting slut who wants his cock a little too much.”

He’ll wait until your pussy is clenching at the thought of his cock entering you even before he’s gotten a chance to touch you.

If you end up fighting back, he’ll take that time to degrade you even more while waiting until you apologize.

If you get him to bottom, he’ll be a brat right back. He doesn’t beg for your pussy to slide all the way down unless you’ve been teasing him the same way he’s done to you.

Taketora Yamamoto: Oral

Yamamoto loves being held in between the thighs of his significant other. The pressure of your legs tightening around his head drives him insane.

He has waited his entire life to be close enough to see your perfect pussy that a few times he’s cum by listening to your moans and hands. He’ll make sure not to waste a single drop your body gives you.

Yamamoto knows how to use his fingers as much as his tongue. Once you’ve been prepped, two fingers will easily slip in to try and find your g-spot. He’ll find it with ease as your body has always been his roadmap.

He can spend hours dedicated to making you feel good but once his lips leave your body, he’ll want to push you until you break.

Kenma Kozume: Voice Control/Voyeurism

I do think he’s ace however I’ll describe his sex life

Kenma loves to hear you cry out his name as you’re bouncing on his cock in his gaming chair. However, he also enjoys you not having the ability to make noise more.

He’ll put his gaming headset on you and unmute his discord. Making sure to whisper in your ear “you wouldn’t want anyone to hear your moans.”

He’ll take his time with each thrust in you just to drag out every whine, moan, and cry that comes out of your mouth.

There’s been a few times where you’ve almost been caught as Kenma was being extra spicy and moved faster than the rhyme he created which caused you to cry out his name directly into the microphone.

The other end of the line seemed confused as they thought it was Kenma on the headset but your voice was clearly heard. He took the mic from you and said he had other business to attend to before quickly shutting off the game.

Let’s say that you may not be able to walk properly the next day because a good kitten needs punishment.

Lev Haiba: Size Kink

Because Lev is so tall, he wants a significant other he can thrown onto the bed and fuck the living daylights out of. Anyone is shrunken by the absolute giant of a man.

He loves bending you over any surface and ripping off your pants. He is an impatient child when it comes to sex.

He uses his size to grab the headboard to add more force to his thrusts anytime you are in doggystyle. He’ll have your head buried in the mattress because you know you’re not walking out of the bedroom without your back hurting in the morning.

Lev enjoys picking you up and pushing you against the wall for sex. Anything that will show who's actually in control of the bedroom.

Fukurodani

Kotaro Bokuto: Stomach bulge

Bokuto is huge. And I mean extremely huge to the point you’ve had a bruised cervix before.

He gets energetic whenever you’ll have sex with him. He’ll walk around begging throughout the days he really needs a release. If he gets too horny, he’ll send you a perfectly pictured nude of him in the mirror at practice.

One of the first times you guy had sex, he moved his hand to settle your hips as he slowly gave you every single inch. His hand met to your stomach and could feel his own dick bulging out of your stomach.

Ever since that day, he loves placing his hand against your stomach to feel himself as he sets an unmatchable pace with his hips.

“Baby, don’t you feel how much I fill you up. I can feel myself outside. I must be fucking you good.” All of this is said while pleasure-filled tears roll down your cheeks.

Keiji Akaashi: Creampie/ Cockwarming

Akaashi claims his property well. He rarely will cum anywhere else but as deep inside you as possible.

He’ll take extra care to get you off first before he chases his own orgasm because he’ll want to watch every burst of cum to be buried so deep that it may never actually be seen again.

His favorite moment is when he feels your pussy flutter around him begging for more. Your trembles and cries only lead to another round so he can fill you up even more.

Sometimes Akaashi will want to keep his dick warm from your body heat. He’ll pull you in to cuddle only for you to notice he’s still deep inside. “I’m only telling anyone else that may see you that you are mine and only mine, sweetheart.”

Even when you try to stand up to get dressed or go use the restroom, he’ll drag you back to the comfort of his arms and cock.

Haikyuu Masterlist

Haikyuu Coffee Shop Au

Tag List: @immxnty

#nekoma #kuroo smut #kuroo testuro #hq yamamoto #yamamoto smut #akaashi keiji #akaashi smut #lev smut #lev haiba #kenma #kenma smut #yaku smut #haikyuu #hq #hq smut #haikyuu smut #a writes

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Sword and Shield

Part 1: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/652827986465275904/sword-and-shield

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on.

Warnings: Only some mentions of war, otherwise have at it!

2: Familiarity

You took in a deep breath, then slipped off your bag and set it down on the ground. Turning, you looked pleadingly to Rex, who decided to help you out behind his hidden smirk.

He held out his hand to you. “Permission to Transfer?” he asked the initial question to begin the Transference.

You took his hand readily. “Transfer Granted,” you said quietly, feeling that familiar tightness in your gut as the process began.

“Blaster,” Rex’s voice became a sharp command.

Almost without thinking, used to the process, you allowed the sensation of your cells shifting to complete their movement. With an odd sort of sucking sensation, you closed your eyes and Transferred.

Startled noises made you open your eyes to note your point of view from right above the blaster now held in Rex’s hand. The Transference had been completed successfully. Rex spun the blaster, using the Bond you’d forged between you and him to request a switch of weapons. You morphed the weapon in his hands into an IWS, hefting it in his hands. Another request as he swung his arm behind him, feet shifting in practiced movements to reveal that you’d Shifted into a giant scythe. One more request, and Rex straightened to hold out a Vibro-shiv in his hand.

“Hence why she’s called Shiv,” Rex remarked somewhat dryly, flipping the shiv in his hands.

You let a silhouette of your head, shoulders, arms, and torso materialize over Rex’s shoulder. It was a method of easy communication with others and a way to reveal your presence a little more visibly than just through a mental Bond with a Handler.

Rex nodded at you. “Bond Dissolution,” he said, allowing you to begin the Dissolution of the Transference. He tossed the Shiv, allowing your body to replace the weapon before it even hit the floor.

You shook your head a little to reorient yourself. Reaching down, you picked your bag back up. “I’ve been working with Commander Rex and the 501st for a while, but it’s a bit difficult to work with a large force and manage being passed from one person to another. Being a living weapon requires not only an intimidate knowledge of the weapons themselves but also a close working relationship with a tight-knit group in order to cater to their own individual strengths and preferences,” you explained, reaching up to rub your eye briefly. Your vision always felt a bit... off, after a Transference.

“She’s been stretched thin trying to understand and learn the fighting patterns and preferences of the entire 501st, and limiting her usage to just a few isn’t exactly the best scenario for an entire squadron’s unity,” Rex said, picking up your thread. “I thought putting her in an already-established, smaller, special-forces group would perhaps be best for increasing her effectiveness and bringing her to her best. It’s a commitment, but I’d appreciate it if you gave it a try.”

“Whoa, that’s super cool!” The large one bellowed, giving you an exhilarated grin.

A little startled, you gave him a shy smile. “Th-thanks.”

The others seemed to glance at each other almost in a non-verbal conversation, but seemed to come to a pretty swift agreement. The tattooed one turned to Rex.

“Since you’re recommending it, Commander, I suppose we’ll give it a go. Our next mission has been assigned tomorrow morning, so if she decides to join, she’ll have to probably move into the ship tonight.” He glanced at you.

Rex nodded. “Thank you for giving it a try. What do you think, Shiv?” He turned to you.

You nodded. “Of course, Commander,” you murmured, stomach flipping a little. After so long, it was actually happening. You were going to be transferred to a special ops group.

Rex nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Go and pack your things, Shiv. I’ll get the transfer settled and let the General know.”

You nodded, then turned to the group. “Um, should I just come back here? It shouldn’t take me long to pack,” you asked timidly.

The leader nodded at you. “We’ll be right here. I’m Sergeant Hunter, if you need to ask for me.”

“Oh, right! Name’s Wrecker!” The burly guy said with a wave.

You had to smile, waving back.

“I’m Tech,” the one with glasses introduced, adjusting his goggles.

“Crosshair,” the white-haired one grunted, seemingly disinterested in the whole affair. Though, he did glance at you.

“Thank you. I’ll be back,” you promised, looking to Rex.

He dismissed you with a nod, and you headed back to your bunk.

Sinking down onto the bunk, you stared down at your trembling fingers. You hadn’t even realized how nervous you’d really been until it was all said and done. Shaking your head, you dropped your head into your hands and tried to work through the muck of feelings that stuck in your chest.

You were... scared. Excited. Apprehensive. Curious. Nervous. Glad. Sad.

“Yo Shiv- hey, what’s wrong?”

You started, looking up to see Fives and Kix approaching your bunk. You gave them a bit of a sad smile, looking down at your hands now clasped in your lap.

“It’s... it’s finally happened,” you whispered, trying to wrap your own mind around it.

“Happened? Wha-“ Kix paused, eyes widening. “Wait, are you getting transferred?”

You nodded shakily. “Y-yeah.”

Fives slung his arm around your shoulders. “Well. Congrats, Shivvie!” he tried to cheer, but it came out a bit sadly.

You smiled up at both of them. “I’m gonna miss you guys, you know,” you said with a light laugh.

Kix sighed. “We’re gonna miss you too, Shiv. But I’m guessing that since this opportunity is one that you’re taking, so it must be good, right?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah... yeah, it’s... it’s a good one,” you admitted. “I’m- I’m joining Clone Force 99.”

“Whoa,” Fives blurted. “You’re joining the Bad Batch? That’s great for you, Shiv! I heard they’re weird but pretty good at what they do,” he said, clearly impressed. “I mean, Commander Rex helped create that force.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I...” Still, you had to let your shoulders slump a little. “I... I hope it goes well.”

“You’re gonna knock em dead, Shiv,” Kix encouraged, patting your shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you, but you have our commlinks. Come and get drinks with us at the 79s whenever you stop by for a break or something.”

You nodded, smiling up at both of them. You’d miss their company, no matter what happened. Kix and Fives had really been your pillars of support throughout your time with the 501st, and you’d really supported each other through... well, the Battle of Lola Sayu.

With a sigh, you looked around. “I have to pack. I have to get to the ship by tonight.”

“We’ll help you out,” Fives offered immediately, standing.

You shook your head at him. “Thanks, but... you mind just telling the others I’d like to say bye? If they’re around? I kinda... I need some headspace,” you admitted.

Kix nodded, grabbing Fives’ arm to keep him from protesting. “Got it, Shiv. We’ll send ‘em over. Good luck!”

You waved, biting back tears as you tried to smile.

New beginnings, after all, usually meant leaving something behind.

Taking a breath, you headed into Hangar Bay Six again. You’d said goodbye to the rest of the 501st, promising to keep in touch when possible and wishing them the best of luck. They’d been sad to see you go, but they’d all been encouraging and hopeful.

After all, you reflected, they were the ones who knew the difficulties you all faced working together. They’d seen how thin you’d been spread trying to accommodate and learn to work intimately with all of them.

Walking up to the Havoc Marauder, you headed up the ramp with your bags. “Hello?” you called uncertainly at the mouth of the ship, not wanting to just barge in.

Hunter rounded the corner, nodding to you. “Welcome aboard. Your quarters are just down here,” he said, heading down the corridor.

You followed him, glancing around at the ship in order to get familiar with the layout. It was a pretty standard ship by all accounts, so you figured you wouldn’t find it too hard to learn where things were. You followed as he ducked into a room, the door sliding open.

The room itself wasn’t too bad, a bit small but that was to be expected. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d asked you to share quarters, so it slightly surprised you that they gave you your own personal quarter. A small fresher was tucked into the corner, though it only had a sink and a toilet.

“The showers are down the hall, they’re shared.” Hunter jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

You just smiled, setting your bags down on the bunk. “Thank you. I honestly kinda expected having to share quarters. This is really nice,” you said honestly.

He blinked at you. “You shared bunks with the 501st?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah?”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything else. “Feel free to get comfortable. You can look around the ship and get used to it whenever you want. The galley is on the other side of the ship, and everyone’s quarters are on this side.”

You nodded, belatedly realizing that he didn’t even stop to see your reaction before ducking back through the door and walking off. With a glance around, you decided to unpack. This would be your home for a while, after all. Might as well make the best of it.

After looking around the ship and getting familiar with it, you found yourself wandering into what seemed to be a common, shared space. You’d taken your mug to the galley and made some caf, stowing away some of your own tea paraphernalia in an empty shelf out of the way.

Tech sat in the room, going through datapads in his own corner. He looked up, observing you through his goggles with a blink.

You gave him a hesitant smile. “Um, do you mind if I sit?”

He blinked, then nodded. “Oh, sure. Anyone can come in here, it’s a common room,” he said, motioning to the seats that were scattered around. “Oh, uh... Hunter said to give you the rundown, by the way.”

You crossed the room, sitting in a chair close to him. “Rundown?” you asked, setting your mug down.

He handed you a datapad. “This is the data I’ve gathered and compiled about Force 99. I thought it might be useful to you since you said you need to work closely with a group, and I’ve been meaning to create a profile for a while now anyway so it was a good excuse,” he seemed to be babbling a bit, reaching up to adjust his goggles and avoiding direct eye contact with you.

You glanced down at the display screen to see Hunter’s name at the top, a chunk of material following it.

Tech was still rambling on, fiddling with another datapad. “I mean, I know we’re also supposed to get to know you, but I guessed that letting you know about all of our desired mutations and details about our weapons preferences might be a good way to start, you know? Since you also said you’re a weapons expert, I mean. I added some footage of our missions as well for reference and all, since I tend to record most of them.”

You smiled, deciding to cut in and stop his nervous rambling. “Thank you so much, Tech. Oh, is it okay if I call you that?”

He blinked, looking at you briefly. “Oh, sure. I mean, it’s my name. Uh, what should I-?”

You laughed a little, tucking your feet up onto the chair. “You can either call me (Name) or Shiv, I like and answer to both.” You pulled out your own datapad. “Do you mind if I transfer this data to my own pad? That way I can make notes without stealing yours.”

He nodded. “Oh, sure, of course. The information was compiled for you, anyway.”

“Thank you, Tech,” you said again, touched that he’d gone that far. “I appreciate it, a lot. It’ll really help me try to integrate myself in the best way.” You gave him a smile.

He hesitantly nodded, taking back the datapad from you after you’d finished transferring the files.

You quickly lost yourself in the wealth of information, making notes and highlighting some key characteristics that you noted in the files. Tech had really done an immaculate job, considering that you’d been an unexpected arrival and addition to the group. As you continued learning more about the group, you began to understand why they were nicknamed the “Bad Batch” by the others. It barely irked you, though you knew that the premise of the whole name was rather... derogatory.

You’d already been treated much like a clone for most of your life, anyway. You’d been born a weapon, a tool, nothing but cannon fodder ever since this war had even started. Here you were, at twenty-something years old, and all you remembered was a life of surviving, living, fighting, and forcing yourself to be a tool.

The clones had welcomed you in, had given you a sense of camaraderie, understanding, and family. You’d found a sense of purpose despite your status as an outcast. And the more you read about the Bad Batch, the more you found yourself understanding why Rex might have specifically considered this particular group to assign you to.

You completely lost track of time, going over the information and committing it to memory, taking time to make meticulous notes about their weaponry. You only stopped once you’d gone through the written information, turning to Tech.

“Excuse me, Tech.”

Starting, he looked up at you owlishly as though he’d forgotten you even existed in the same room. “Oh- y-yes?”

“Is there a holodeck I can link to? So I can get a closer analysis of the footage?” you asked, motioning to the datapad.

“Oh, right!” He shuffled over to the other side of the room, grabbed a holoscreen, and handed it over. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” You gave him a fleeting smile, then hooked up the datapad to the holoscreen display. Putting the footage on complete mute, you began to scrutinize it frame by frame, expanding some scenes and rotating the screens to get a different vantage point. You did notice that sometimes it was harder to catch Crosshair’s movements since he was, after all, a sniper, but you did manage to isolate quite a few moments of his meticulous shots and get a bead on his location and vantage points.

You were so immersed in examining the footage, highlighting reels, and going through your well-versed motions that the feeling of someone tapping your shoulder well and truly took you off-guard. You instantly froze, eyes narrowing as your awareness instantly honed in on your surroundings. It only took half a second to recall where exactly you were, and you shook yourself with a sharp inhale.

You turned to the person who had tapped you. “Sorry-“

Hunter observed you with a piercing look. “Why did you freeze?” He demanded.

You blinked, mouth opening, scrambling for an answer. “Um- I lost track of my surroundings and had to regroup myself, Sergeant,” you found yourself answering almost mechanically, the tone of his voice forcing an answer from your conditioned mind.

“Why would you freeze? Why wouldn’t you immediately react in order to assess a threat?” Hunter asked ruthlessly, crossing his arms.

The question felt oddly familiar. It didn’t take much for you to find an answer. “As a weapon, sir, my first reactions are necessarily different from most other people,” you said quietly, heart pounding in your chest. It didn’t help that you now knew that his enhanced senses most likely heard it. “If I were to immediately react, I would end up thoughtlessly killing the person or object that had surprised me.” You swallowed, looking down at your feet. “I learned my mistakes the hard way, by completely destroying everything and everyone within five meters of me.”

A silence fell in the room, while you ruthlessly tried to push away the memories that loomed at the edge of your mind.

Hunter finally spoke. “Understood.” He cleared his throat. “I... apologize.”

You looked up, eyes widening. “N-no need to apologize, Sergeant. You should know, especially since I-I’m supposed to be working with you.”

He nodded, then glanced behind you at the frozen footage. “I see that Tech has given you the files he compiled.”

You started, then turned around and scooped up the datapad. “Yes sir, I’ve been going over the information and trying to compile all the necessary information I can before the- the mission tomorrow,” you explained hurriedly.

He nodded. “I appreciate the dedication. You’ve been here for four chrons. You might want to get some food.”

You stared down at the clock on the datapad, realizing that it really had been hours since you started. Reaching up, you dragged a hand through your hair a little ruefully.

“Thank you.” You gave Hunter a sheepish smile. “I probably should. I tend to... get lost in my work.”

He nodded, then wordlessly stepped back out of the room.

Tech glanced at you, still working on his own stuff.

You sighed and set down the datapad, turning to Tech. “I should go get myself something to eat. Can I bring you something, Tech?” you offered.

He looked up at you. “Oh- that’s- I mean, you don’t have to, I-“

You just quirked him a smile. “You’ve been here the whole time, too. I’ll go get us both something to eat.” Giving him a wave, you headed out to go find the galley and something to eat.

You poked around the available ingredients in the galley before deciding on a quick but filling dish, whipping up enough for everyone. Hesitating after you finished cleaning up, you decided to at least try. Leaving two portions on the counter, you grabbed scrap paper and scribbled Crosshair’s and Wrecker’s names on them. Leaving them for the other two to find, you grabbed the other three portions and headed back to the common room.

Setting down the bowls, you handed one to Tech. “Nothing fancy, but it should go down easy,” you laughed a little.

He took it, surprise flickering over his face. “Th-thanks.”

You nodded, then grabbed another portion. “I’ll be right back.” Leaving your own bowl on the table, you went to go find Hunter. You found him in the cockpit after ten minutes of searching, making him look up as you approached the doorway.

You gave him a hesitant smile, holding out the bowl. “Um, maybe you’ve already eaten but... I made some for everyone, if you’re... hungry,” you said, trailing off and starting to second-guess yourself. What if he didn’t like that kind of food, or thought you had some sort of ulterior motive? What if-

But after staring at your for half a minute, he got up and approached, almost gingerly taking the bowl from you. “Thanks,” he said.

You nodded and skittered away, barely waiting to see his response or hear anything else. Mortified, you paused in the hallway and clapped your hands to your cheeks, shaking yourself. It was fine. You didn’t have to be thatnervous, honestly. It wasn’t like you’d done something ridiculous, just offered him some food is all. It was normal. Completely normal. Right?

You decided to return to your spot and drown your embarrassment in your research again. After all, you did have good motivation. Tomorrow morning would be your first mission.

#The bad batch #tbb #star wars #Clone wars #the clone wars #sw #my writing #x reader #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #hunter #the bad batch x reader #Writing #my fic #fanfic

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