#and it’s the mask of a hero - the mask of the protector | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hurtspideyparker · 2 months

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Thinking about restless spirit Tony Stark who just can't move on to the after life.

The first thing he does once he realizes he's an apparition is check on Pepper and Morgan. True to their word, they're okay. He watches them for a bit but feels this deep unrest pulling him away from the quaint home he yearns for.

There's a deep wrongness within him, some unfinished business that draws him back to New York.

He fears for a moment that it's Peter- but no, it can't be him. He'll be in Massachusetts right now, attending MIT as a freshman. There isn't a doubt in Tony's mind that his little genius is already making his mark.

Still, he follows the pull of his spirit to some dingy Queens' apartment he's never been to before.

It's deep in the night yet the apartment is empty. He looks around a bit, his body phasing through anything he attempts to touch.

It's small and dirty. There's old coffee cups on the desk, alongside a couple GED manuals. Great, the universe thinks he has unfinished business with some broke high school dropout.

He's pondering how he must have screwed up this kid's life; was it the Avengers, Stark Industries? Maybe his old playboy lifestyle is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

His contemplation is cut short by the sound of the window cracking open.

It strikes Tony for a moment that maybe he's stuck on Earth to be a guardian angel, Iron Man living on as some invisible protector against whatever creep is sneaking into people's windows. It doesn't make much sense considering the whole non-corporeal thing, but he still stiffens like he's ready for a fight.

He sees a man- no, a thing? A creature maybe, or an alien. Even in death Tony can't escape being one of Earth's mightiest heroes.

The creature is shrouded in darkness, something slick and bald crawling inside the room with terrifying grace and silence. It shuts the window with a soft kssssh as the seal is formed.

And then it pulls off its mask.

There, with the click of a table lamp, glows the face of Peter Parker.

He's definitely older now; sturdier shoulders, a rugged set of his jaw, hair tamed to something semi-professional. Still present, though, are those gentle brown eyes.

Nothing makes sense right now. Why is his kid here, in this apartment? Surely May wouldn't allow this. How many tenant laws does this place break? Where are his little sidekick friends? And on what planet would Peter Parker ever need a GED?

Tony's getting angry now, watching Peter move around the tiny space. He changes out of his costume and into pajamas. That spider suit isn't Tony's suit, it looks like cheap craft store fabric.

The kid opens a small freezer and pulls out the singular bag of peas that reside in there, pressing it against his ribs while he goes to pop some bread into a toaster.

Tony takes note of every glimpse he gains into Peter's life. Empty cabinets when he reaches for a jar of peanut butter. A fridge housing nothing but condiments and energy drinks when he goes to grab jam. A drawer with two spoons, no forks, and a paring knife which he pulls out and sticks into the strawberry jam jar just as the toast pops.

This is all so wrong.

Tony's outrage is coming to a rolling boil. Peter deserves the world- he was gonna give him the world. He couldn't wait to send Peter to MIT and show him off as his protégé. Tony was gonna fund his projects, tease him about pretty girls, maybe even see him step back from Spider-Man and act like a normal college kid. He wanted to see him flourish and grow up. It was all he could think about when Peter turned to dust between his fingers; he should be goofing off with his friends at a mathletes meeting, or building Legos, not fighting an intergalactic war.

Tony couldn't even conceive how much went wrong to end up here.

Alone. Broke. No school. He didn't even have his Stark suit to protect him. Everything that made him him has been stripped, leaving him in this shallow box with scuffed paint and hollow cabinets.

Tony can feel the violent rage burn deep in his spirit as he thinks about it.

This is why he's here. He can't let his boy live like this, wasting his potential to be some villain's punching bag. Where is everyone? Does no one care enough to stop this? The fury that builds in Tony is dangerous, wondering why a dead man is the only one who cares about the teen's life right now.

Without thinking Tony's hand reaches for the GED textbook, a mocking piece of work that laughs in his face, and throws it at the stupid little kitchenette that's mere feet from the bed.

It sails across the room with surprising speed before it's met with a thunk against Peter's palm, hand reaching out to catch it from the air before it collided with the toaster.

Oh.

Peter sets the book down and immediately picks up his web shooters, eyes darting furiously to every corner of the tiny apartment.

"Who's there?"

Tony steps a little closer but Peter's eyes just look right past him.

"C'mon Pete, c'mon. I'm here, I'm right here."

Tony looks for something else to grab. He swats at a hopefully empty coffee cup on the wooden desk, but his hand just passes right through it.

"Shit," the hope Tony felt waivers slightly and he tries again.

Nothing.

Peter is searching his apartment now, making sure the window is secure and feeling around every crevice, bookshelves, under the bed, in the top corners of the room. Searching for something nefarious, tech maybe.

Tony hits the cup, again and again, frustration building up and up and up till-

The cup flies across the room, Tony and Peter's eyes track its movements as it bounces against the ground and rolls to a stop.

"Shit," Peter breathes out.

Tony walks up to Peter now, standing before him.

"Figure it out. Think kid, you've met aliens, gods, magicians, surely ghosts aren't too far fetched."

Peter closes his eyes. His posture straightens, Tony watches him take a deep breath in as the hairs on his bare arms stand on end.

Peter's eyes blink open, and they're looking directly at Tony.

Tony smirks, "that's it."

Peter turns around and picks the cup off the ground, running to his desk with it and ripping a piece of lined paper out of a notebook and scribbling furiously on it.

Tony walks over as Peter places the cup in the center of the paper.

On the left is the word YES in bold print, NO on the right.

"Okay, okay okay. So, move the cup if, if you wanna talk. Um, is there someone in the room right now?"

Tony reaches for the cup, an intense glare as his fingertips graze it gently. It shifts minutely towards the YES.

"Shit! Shit. Sorry, whew. Okay. Are you friendly?"

Tony moves it to YES again.

"Are you a, um. Person? Like not an alien?"

YES.

"Are you wearing tech, invisibility suit or your molecules are uncalibrated or maybe it's a portal thing like, multiverse shit is happening again, a mirror universe! Oh, maybe a..."

Tony let's a frustrated sign. The kid is too practical, logical. He needs to think like a non-genius.

"... could be. Or, or maybe you're just a ghost-"

Tony perks up and immediately swats the cup, causing it to fly off the desk towards the YES.

"Oh. Oh that's... kinda normal. Or maybe really weird? I mean... I certainly have some ghosts in my past."

Peter picks the cup up and puts it back on the desk.

"Do I know you?"

YES.

"You said you were friendly, and I'm not getting any danger tingles from you. I'm gonna start with people I know are dead, cuz I just really hope you're not a... new ghost. Um. M-May?"

The boy's voice cracks on the word and Tony freezes. May is dead? Tony starts to fear that things are a lot more wrong than he previously thought.

Peter's breath catches and Tony realizes he's waiting, dying for an answer, and quickly pokes the cup towards NO.

Peter's shoulders sag.

"Uncle Ben?"

NO.

"T- Mr. Stark?"

Tony grins, "now we're getting somewhere!"

YES.

Tony is going to have his work cut out for him, but being here with Peter just feels right.

Peter breaks out into a matching smile.

"Wow, okay. I think I'm gonna need more paper," he says as the boy gets to work making a more complex system than YES and NO.

Tony watches on proudly, reminiscing about all the great Peter was and all the great he still is, despite his situation. Whatever this is, they'll figure it out.

Together.

#peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #spider man #iron man #marvel mcu #post no way home #peter parker angst

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love-bitesx · 11 months

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: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

#hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie #atsv hobie #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk #spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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suzukiblu · 7 months

Note

WIP guessing game: "Robin"

Superboy has existed for about six months at best (five months, two weeks, and six days, but who's creepily spying on their fellow heroes and vigilantes? not Tim, for sure) and was created in a lab full of extremely niche genetic experiments whose creators very rarely bothered making look human, which is probably why he has some weird ideas about certain social norms.

Tim assumes that's why the guy just decided to drop a very annoyed Catwoman on him out of nowhere, anyway.

"The fuck?" he says, though through his vocoder it comes out more like the incoherent screeching of the damned. That being, well, the whole purpose of the vocoder and all. Superboy grins down at him from the nighttime sky all bright and sunny and weirdly adorable, for being a lab-grown weapon and a guy who is technically capable of disassembling Tim down to his individual atoms with, like, a touch and about two seconds' worth of thought.

Not that Tim has been creepily spying on anyone or said anyone's Cadmus files, again.

Also Superboy might not even know he can do that yet, so it's really not a smart thing to mention right now.

"Hey, man!" Superboy greets cheerfully. "She was breaking into that big museum a couple blocks over, figured you'd care about that. As opposed to, like, breaking into some rich asshole with insurance's penthouse. Figured you would not have cared about that."

"The museum also has insurance, for the record," Selina informs him sourly as she makes an art of getting off her unceremoniously roof-dumped ass while looking like being on this roof was her idea to begin with. Because, like: Selina. "And has not properly sourced the artifacts in their new Bast exhibit."

I know, that's why I was on my way to the museum to keep an eye out for you, is what Tim does not say, since Robin is supposed to be a splintered aspect of a mysterious all-knowing city spirit given human form and not just, like, a really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman.

What he does do is jerkily cock his head and say, "Preyyyyy?", and let his vocoder horribly mangle the word into a sound usually best described as "unholy avian screeching". Superboy beams, which is not a normal reaction to hearing Robin's voice. Selina just rolls her eyes, but Selina of course knows about the whole "really dedicated teenager surviving on semi-legal energy drinks and conspiracy-board detective work and the occasional occult ritual to summon the Batman" thing.

Like she's never summoned the Batman for anything, geez. Or "Bruce", as an eight year-old Dick Grayson had once upon a time decided to randomly dub him. Tim still can't call the eternal and unsleeping eldritch protector of their city that without feeling like he's going to spontaneously combust, but it is in fact a thing that the Batman will answer to.

Might as well call Pennyworth "Alfie", though.

Jason was even worse at names than Dick, Tim is pretty sure.

"Yeah!" Superboy says, sounding still more cheerful and floating down the rest of the way to the roof to land lightly in front of Tim. Selina eyes him in a way that would end very badly for anyone who was not functionally invulnerable. "I mean, she seems cool and all but I dunno, figured the Bat wasn't big on Cats in his territory. And also the criming. Definitely also the criming."

"How . . . find Robin?" Tim asks. Superboy doesn't have enhanced senses, as far as he knows, so . . .

"Oh, I've been stalking you," Superboy explains. Tim blinks behind his unblinking mask and feels several ways about that statement. "That's what you Bats all do when you're interested in somebody, right? So I figured you'd like it if I did it back."

. . . Tim feels several ways about that statement.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #rinfic #chromatographic #wip: a fake cryptid and a real romantic

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suashii · 6 months

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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝒜𝐹𝐸𝒯𝒴 𝒩𝐸𝒯

info ⭑ suna rintaro x reader. 1.3k wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ spider-man!suna

note ⭑ i cannot stop thinking about spider!suna !! possibly expect a few more drabbles in this au :3

you’re toeing the line between wakefulness and slumber; about to slip into dreamland but lucid enough to hear the tick… tick… tick… of the alarm clock situated on your beside table. the rhythmic sound begins to grow distant the deeper into the sleep you fall.

and before you actually drift off, you’re jolted awake by a noisy bang! at your window. the sound rips a startled scream from your throat as you scramble to sit up. the comforter bunched up in your fists is held up to your face to shield you from whatever just slammed into your window. you peer over the top of your flimsy safeguard, hoping that the source of the jarring noise is long gone.

unfortunately for you, it isn’t. although, there’s no reason for you to be so nervous anymore.

you recognize the glimpse of black and white haphazardly swinging at the corner of your window. rubbing your tired eyes with a sigh, you toss your blanket aside and leave the warm comfort of your bed to approach the glass.

you’re met with a groan of pain and some muffled swears when you reach your destination. your lips wobble, threatening to break out into a grin upon hearing the familiar voice.

the clicks of your window unlocking sound throughout the quiet of your room before you lift up the pane. a chilly draft enters the space and goosebumps raise on your arms almost immediately. you ignore the unpleasant sensation in favor of greeting your clumsy, untimely visitor. “did you seriously just swing straight into my window?”

regaining his balance, suna perches himself on the concrete lip of your window. with one hand by his feet to keep steady, he uses the other to snatch the black mask off his head. strands of dark hair stick up in different directions and it takes a moment for his grayish-yellow eyes to adjust to his normal vision outside the mask. when it finally does, he’s met your face, the corner of your lips twitching with a smile. somehow it makes him feel less embarrassed—but only a little. “i meant to land on the ledge but i came in too fast.”

“if you’re all this city has to rely on as a hero, we’re doomed.” you only mean it as a joke, you know that and so does suna, but he still feigns hurt at your comment, poking out his lip in a pout. he’s mastered the kicked puppy expression but you only offer him a sickeningly sweet smile in response. you jerk your thumb behind you as you take a few steps back to allow him some space. “come in, you’re making my room cold.”

he does as you say, climbing into your window much more gracefully than he had arrived. he closes it behind him as you scurry back to the warmth of your bed. you’re busy getting comfortable under your blanket when suna plops down beside you. you’d chastise him for lying on your bedding in his suit that’s been who knows where, but there’s something more pressing at the forefront of your mind. “what brings you here so late? you’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“would you kiss it better if i was?” he asks, his eyes flitting over to meet yours. his tone is entirely serious but it’s accompanied by a grin that tells you he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.

you’re tempted to shut him down, just so he isn’t allowed the satisfaction he’s so desperately seeking, but the more you consider his question, the more you think about his circumstances.

this role of superhero, protector, defender, was thrust on him without his say—against his will. the once normal college student who played volleyball and video games in his free time now risks his life every day so the people around him stay safe. he downplays the danger he faces and you try not to show that you worry for him but you do.

you don’t know what you’d do with yourself if he ended up hurt.

so, even if he came to you with some minor injury like a bruised cheek or a split lip or a sprained ankle, you’d do anything in your power to make him feel better—even if that remedy was a kiss.

rolling onto your side so you’re facing him, you prop your chin in the palm of your hand. suna’s gaze is still glued to you and you challenge it with a stare of your own. “you know what? i would.”

the curl of the corners of his lips falls upon hearing your unforeseen reply. a weird feeling overcomes him, too. he can feel his heart rate pick up and can hear the ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump of the organ in his ears. the closest he’s felt to this sensation before is when he’s soaring through the air evading villains and crooks. but those are real threats and you’re the farthest thing from it. you’re his safety net, there to catch him whenever he feels himself falling.

why is he falling now?

he blinks and clears his throat. “what?”

“i said i would kiss it better if you were hurt.” you proudly tell him, sporting the smile of someone who beat the master at their own game. it isn’t often you render suna speechless and a sense of satisfaction washes over you knowing that you were able to do so by simply saying something you meant.

it’s difficult to see him in the dark of your room but you do pick up on the way his fingers nervously tap at his stomach and how he’s mindlessly chewing on the inside of his cheek. he isn’t looking at you anymore, either. you wonder what’s going on in his head, what thoughts are swimming in his skull. outside of his joking, he tends to keep a lot to himself.

you suspect he’s doing that much now. between his uncharacteristic silence and the fact that he never told you why he dropped in, you think it might be something he isn’t quite ready to share yet. it’s not something you’ll ever hold against him and if you’re the comfort he seeks after a long day, you don’t want to ruin that by pushing him. so, instead of waiting for suna to speak up, you ask, “wanna stay the night?”

he turns his head to face you. “can i?”

“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head. “you left a bag here last time, there might be something you can wear to sleep in it.”

you point to the bag propped up in the corner of your room. his gaze follows your finger and lands on the drawstring pouch he’s been looking for since last week. he internally chuckles at himself—he should have known he could find it here, where else would it be?

suna pulls himself up from his reclined position to make his way across the room. though, partway through the process, a sharp pain shoots up his side. his hand shoots out to hold his aching ribs as he bites back a groan of complaint.

you quickly sit up with him. there’s concern painted all over your face. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, it’s where i—” he stops in the middle of his explanation, remembering the humiliation that blanketed him earlier.

“hit the window?” you finish his sentence with a quiet laugh that you fail to hold back.

he nods in confirmation, dragging the palms of his hands over his face in a show of bashfulness. it’s cute and so unlike suna. you can’t help but want to tease him just a little more.

“aw, don’t be embarrassed. want me to kiss it better?”

hiya, it's manon! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna imagines #haikyuu imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu scenarios

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avatartophblindbanditbeifong · 11 months

Text

Bloody Knuckles and Palm Kisses

Miles Morales x Reader

1.4k words

Warnings: blood, bodily harm, crying, angst, Miles being stubborn, & reader being a patient Saint.

“Ow.”

Miles hissed again as you swiped the alcohol-soaked cotton ball across his bloody knuckles.

Miles was seated on your windowsill. A dozen cotton balls, once white but now turned red, scattered next to him while you stood in between his parted legs. You would have him sit on a more comfortable surface like your bed, but there was a strict ‘no outside clothes on the bed’ rule that your parents implemented, and it was one you instilled in Miles, especially when he came over in his beat up Spider-Man suit.

“Sorry.” you said quietly. You looked up from Miles’s hands, and for a second, you saw his sorrow.

It was a quarter to 1 a.m. when Miles abruptly landed on the fire escape outside to your window. Bang! The sound of his body colliding with the rustic metal sounded through your room.

Your body reacted to the sudden sound by jolting upward, prompting you to drop your phone onto your face. “Shit.” you thought. You hoped with everything you loved that your parents weren’t woken up by the noise coming from your room.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve checked in due to Miles’ inability to be stealthy.

You got out of your bed when you noticed Miles’ state. You swiftly padded over to the window, tucked your fingers under the metal and pushed it up quickly. Something about his body, he looked tangled in the position he landed in, the slight red smears across his skin glistened; the sounds he emitted were those of a wounded animal.

When you stepped outside, you were looking at Spider-Man, but all you could truly see was a beat-up teenager looking for solace in something familiar.

And that was you.

“Here,” You cupped your hands together, “give me the cotton balls.” Miles then picked up one scarlet ball and placed it in your palm.

Then another.

One. By. One.

He did this for each cotton ball.

Into the palms of your hands.

Until they were full.

Miles let out a deep sigh when you turned your back to him, throwing away the blood shed he wore on his body just moments ago into the trash bin. When you looked over your shoulder, Miles was slouched over, leaning on his knees with his head in his hands. His mask was abandoned on the windowsill next to him.

You made your way beside him. “You did good today, y’know.”

He scoffed.

You let out a deep breath. You knew no amount of assurance would help ease Miles’ disappointment.

“You did the best you could, baby.” He lifted his head, staring into your eyes.

“You weren’t there Y/n,” His eyes were half lidded and his eyebrows frowned; he looked tired. The slight downturn of his mouth made him look like the most grief-stricken boy in the world. “I was there, and I-” he swallowed. “I could’ve done more,” he picked up his mask and held it firmly, “I could’ve saved them all.” His voice was hoarse and tears formed in the waterline of his eyes.

“People lost their family; their friends tonight because of me, because I couldn’t get the job done.” Miles whispered that last part. He didn’t want to let you in on the habit of self deprecation he’d grown into.

“Miles, you can’t blame yourself for every mishap that happens in Brooklyn.” You caught the way he shook his head. “You can only go so far with what you can do. You're fourteen. You can’t protect everyone-”

“I can be both!” He interjected exasperatedly. “I’m Spider-Man,” he croaked. You shushed him as his voice grew louder.

Miles pushed himself off of the windowsill, standing up tall. You looked up at him; he really had grown a lot taller these past few months, you thought.

“You are both. But not saving every single person in need doesn’t make you any less of a hero.” You replied, but he wasn’t listening. Trying to talk to Miles when he was upset was like talking to a brick wall; nothing was going to get through.

“I’m supposed to be the protector of the city,” he continued. “A-and I just let two people die!”

You shushed him again. “Miles, please.”

He paused before saying, “Peter could’ve done it.” flatly; devoid of any emotion.

The atmosphere in your room was muted then. The lack of noise was so deafening you could hear the faint sound of ringing that introduced itself into your ears every once in a while.

Miles sighed, breaking the silence. He leaned against the wall, slowly descending until he came in contact with the floor. You looked down at him and positioned yourself down the wall next to him, sitting on your heels.

“Maybe.” his eyes snapped toward yours like magnets. “But you’re not Peter Parker, Miles. You can’t compare the success of one Spider-Man to the other because you both serve a different purpose. Sure, Peter could do things you can’t, but he wouldn’t be able to do the things you can. And that’s okay,” he wasn't looking at you anymore, you slid your palm slowly up the back of his shoulder. “Look at me Miles — you don’t have to be Peter Parker to be Spider-Man.”

That’s when the dam broke. Miles's shoulders dropped in ruin, and his bottom lip quivered. He took in a sharp inhale before letting out a breathless sob. Seeing Miles break down like this was a rare occurrence. Sure, you’d seen him cry many times, but this…

He wasn’t just sad, you knew this. He was angry. He was ashamed. He was crushed.

Even though Miles had been Brooklyn’s one and only Spider-Man for the past eleven months, he still felt inadequate about being “Spider-Man #2.” It pained you to see Miles, an otherwise upbeat boy, feel so dejected and helpless.

You smoothed the hand on his shoulder across the length of his back and pulled him into you. Right then, he melted like a puddle in your arms. You rested your chin on top of his curls and a thin line of tears welled up in the corner of your eyes.

You and Miles both sat there on your bedroom floor in each other’s embraces, crying silently for two completely different reasons.

“I should go.” He breathed, sitting up right and detaching himself from your hold. The weight of his body left you feeling a lot lighter. When you opened your eyes, they slowly adjusted to the clock on your nightstand; 1:30 a.m. it read.

Had forty-five minutes gone by that fast?

“Stay.” is all you said, and it was all that needed to be said for Miles to do so.

When you let go of him and made way to your closet. You walked back to Miles with an oversized hoodie that you secretly stole from him and a pair of your pajama pants in hand to give him. He thanked you and wandered toward your door. A chuckle bounced in your chest when you noticed the way he peeked out of the crack of your door to check for your parents before he slipped out to the bathroom.

When Miles entered your room, a lot more silent than he did nearly an hour ago, you giggled at the sight before you. Miles was engulfed in your shared clothes. The arms of the hoodie made his already long arms look like those of Slenderman and the pants dragged on the floor before him. Miles stood there with a tight-lipped smile before moving toward your bed where you had already taken place under your blankets.

Miles laid on his side, in the space you had given him. This moment was one of the few times that you and Miles lay in the same bed together. You wanted to lay your head on his chest, but that would be too awkward. So, you reached out and put your hand on top of Miles's. Then, he did something that shocked you; Miles took your hand into his and kissed the back of your palm. It was soft and sentimental, you thought. Miles held your hand in his and set it back down gently between the two of you.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

You felt the soothing gesture of his thumb rubbing against yours and before no time you were asleep and so was Miles. You knew he’d be gone before the sun rose to get back home before his parents woke up, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was that he was there with you.

Safe with your hand in his.

Him tenderly holding you throughout the night.

Although he’d be up and out of your window soon, Miles thought he had never slept so well than at that moment with you.

#miles morales #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales imagine #x reader #miles morales drabble #gender neutral fanfic #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse x reader #sony spiderverse #miles 1610

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yandereunsolved · 1 month

Text

Imagine what yandere Chain would be like with a yiga darling that comes from Wilds Hyrule. Legend learns that Ravio tried to steal from the yiga in Wilds Hyrule and obviously got caught. The Chain travels through the perilous Geurdo Desert to save him. After disarming every yiga in the base, they find that they missed one. Ravio is flirting with this Yiga Clan member—wait, Ravio is flirting with them?

Ravio calls dibs on yiga darling. He is the one who found them first, after all. Sure, he snuck in to steal all of the precious gems, weapons, and other things the clan had hoarded over the years. He was blessed to find something much more valuable. You wouldn't be able to understand that he is a darling. Years of training under Sooga have sharpened your mind and hardened your heart. You just don't have the emotional intelligence to understand how devoted he truly is to you. He didn't realize it at first. It's just your dominance. You know how to put him in his place if he starts being too touchy or perverted around you. Does it stop him? No. It entices him. Like a rabbit to its treasured carrot. He just wants to eat you up.

Time is the one that convinces the group to take you in for interrogation. Which evolves into you being held hostage by a bunch of love-sick heroes that were chosen by the goddesses you swore against. Time treats you like a child, and it infuriates you. He is always giving you advice and besting you in sparring. That's his way of courting you and showing you that you need him. He'd be the perfect husband for you. He could protect you if any yiga from any version of Hyrule tried to come after you. He could make you feel good and be your protector. He's tired of having to protect everyone and lead them. He only wants to do that with you. How beautiful you would look between him and Malon. She already adores you as well, based on what Time has told her of you. He also has the Fierce Deity mask in his arsenal. He isn't afraid of getting the deity involved if it keeps you with him.

Twilight almost mimics Times yandere ways. He is also the only one Twilight will listen to when it comes to you. If Time wants time with you, then he gets it. Even if it is at the cost of him spending time with you. Which does make sense considering Time is his ancestor. He treats you like you are his younger sibling. He is always quick to lend a hand to you. He is always second to scold you after Time for your yiga ways. He always protects you when in his wolf form. Those platonic yandere brother tendencies develop into romantic partner feelings after you save his life. It was more of an accidental thing.

They were traveling through a version of Gerudo Desert when a Molduga appeared out from under them. They were all quick to fight back against the beast while trying to get you away from the battle.

They always do that, every time. They have contemplated crippling you just so you lose your soldier persona faster, as well as you being more dependent on them.

The Moldulga had thrown Twilight deep into the sands, and some stray Lizafolos had been attracted. He was injured and was about to be impaled when you saved him. That was the hottest thing he had ever seen. Your determination and reflexes made the wolf part of him howl. He could just feel himself falling that fast for you. After all, you can't hate the heroes that much if you saved one of them, right?

That means you must be madly in love with him.

Sky barely interacts with you. You just get a lot of stares and awkward moments with him. Something about you just makes his mind go blank and his heart begin to pound. It confuses him even more when he learns what a yiga is. He pours his obsessive feelings out when Fi is around. He constantly talks about you to them and fantasizes. Fi becomes interested and eventually approves of Sky's infatuation. They know it isn't healthy, but it just makes him so happy. They have to admit that they don't know a lot about relationships in the first place. So they'll help Sky by giving him things to talk about with you. The mastersword may just always accidentally end up in your care, so Fi can help Sky stalk you. Some of the others panic with the fact that Sky is fine with leaving the mastersword in your hands. What if you use it as a bargaining tool against them? Of course, Fi is there, but they side with Sky on all matters. So Fi could keep you from them. Good for Sky, bad for the rest of The Chain.

Legend hates how passive and strong you are. You just have this wall that he wants to break down so badly. You have done awful things, at least from what he has learned about the yiga. So what gives you the right to act so perfect all the time? He does his best to humiliate you in any way possible. He knows you hide your face behind that stupid mask all the time, so he either hides it or breaks it. If you get another one, he does the same thing again. This does present a bit of a problem when Four offers to make you new armor, one without yiga symbols. He inadvertently allowed the two of you to get closer. Goddesses, damn it all!

He just needs to break you down so he is able to find his way into your heart. What was once a passive interest in your lack of emotion became a convoluted infatuation with you. He will do anything to make you show any emotion on your features. Your expressions are like ambrosia from the Golden Three. He'll pick out your worst insecurities if he has to, put you in the most compromising positions, give you love potions, anything—he'll slaughter the entirety of the Yiga Clan if only to see the absolute myriad of emotions wildly strewn across your face.

It was Shadow who first introduced Fours obsession into the world. The Colors hadn't seen Shadow in forever. Yet, now he was here, playing mischievous pranks on you. The others never seemed to notice Shadow except for you and Four. He made himself only noticeable to the two or five of you, depending on how you look at it. The others could sense him, but they just shook off the odd feeling. You began to grow closer with him, and Four couldn't have that. All of The Colors were arguing about what to do about him. Vio was especially upset, and Four was teetering on the edge of constantly splitting. The only thing that calmed them down was when they shooed Shadow away and were near you. It's like the darker version of himself understood the feelings that were just beneath the surface. Shadow made sure they grew so that not only could he be infatuated with you, but Four as well. It was something so sick and twisted that all four of them couldn't fight it. They protected you from Shadow's influence when they should've been protecting you from themselves all along.

It turns into a game of The Colors looking to mark you in different ways. Sure, they work together, but one is more dominant than the others in Fours mind and body most days. With your Yiga training, you were able to understand what was happening pretty quickly—well, part of it. You knew Four and Shadow were somehow connected. You knew that he must have a disorder or a strange genetic mutation because of how his eye colors kept changing on the daily—sometimes hourly. It was not a perfect blend with you around. They were all so needy for some part of you. They craved just an ounce of your affection and love.

Legend and his dumb fuckery gave them the perfect opportunity. All of a sudden, every chance Four could, he would whisk you away. He says that it's just because he is making you a special set of armor and weapons. The others will be irked and grumble about it, but they know it's four the best. Even Time approves of the armor and weapons being made for you. Of course, there is a catch to this. There always is.

They're essentially baby-proofed with a magical enchantment made by Legend and Hyrule. If you try to use your weapons without one of their permissions, they'll be too heavy to use and rendered useless. If you refuse to take your armor off or use it in whatever way one of the Links deems inappropriate, it'll basically turn from armor into something that demobilizes and swaddles you. Don't try to argue against it. You're blessed by Hylia herself that they even let you have armor or weapons, period. That's only because they are incredibly paranoid about you being harmed in way hylianly possible.

Four will reveal his secrets to you one day. He just has to make sure that you can't run first.

Hyrule sees you as above him in many ways. He doesn't really see himself as the hero, but you seem to be confident in your yiga position. You are so competent and level-headed. Hyrule falls in love with yiga darling almost as fast as Ravio does. You are just so perfect in his eyes. Your rough edges seem to round when he heals you with his magic. Not to mention that your body is so plush and soft. He feels himself growing red from pointed ear to pointed ear anytime he has to get near your body. It's just so perfect. It's nothing like this. He's lanky, and because of his fairy genes, he just seems to be unable to put on a lot of muscle. You though? You look like you were crafted by Din herself.

You are closest to Wild, much to the others chargin. You are from his Hyrule, and you met the hero while he was on his quest to save it. He didn't kill you after he had disarmed you only a couple of years ago. He may have defeated Master Kohga, but you didn't have the heart to hate him after that. You go to him whenever you need a break from the others. You always choose him to watch you if the others are arguing over who gets to watch you during nightwatch. You always compliment his food, and you interact with him the most. Wild even had the gall to teach you Hylian sign!

So many of the other Links hold such great resentment towards him for that. That was such an intimate thing for you to learn. Wild isn't the smartest of the bunch. A different Link should have taught you that! Cal is the most envious of the fact that Wild got to teach it to you. He is only semi-verbal and uses a lot of sign to communicate with the others. Not as much as Wild, but still! That's why the others use his trauma against him a lot. They'll tell you all the negative things about Wild in an effort to put a wedge in your relationship with him. Hyrule will go as far as to poison your food, so you no longer trust him to cook your meals.

Sages yandere tendencies evolve from simple indifference in you traveling with them to aggressive in nature. Whenever he sees you, it's like a switch is flipped in his brain, and he suddenly becomes paranoid and fidgety. He has dealt with the Yiga Clan far too much. He wants to suppress these feelings. He wants to make them go away. So instead of just acting passive toward you, he acts aggressive. He's very much a more extreme version of a tsundere. He acts like he wants to murder you, which a part of him does just so he doesn't have to feel vulnerable ever again. The other part of him just wants to strip you of anything yiga, so you can be this defenseless little thing that he has to protect. He wants to make you feel as vulnerable as he feels around you.

Aged-up Wind is naturally smitten with you from the first time he lays eyes on you. You remind him of a pirate. You like to steal and battle, just like him. He's often butting into whatever conversation you are having with another Link. He is shameless about it as well. He'll take up all of your time and try to convince you to come back to his Hyrule. They're holding you here against your will. Having only one yandere Link to deal with is better than a dozen. You both could be rulers over the Great Sea. That's his secret fantasy; the rest of his brothers envying him for having you while you both get married and have a bunch of awe-inspiring offspring. That's how he'd stake his claim on you against the others.

Warriors sees you as a threat at first. He is always on edge and ready for you to attack. Eventually, his apprehension turns to curiosity, which evolves into being enamored with you. He agrees with the rest about you needing to be protected and to never be in battle again, but at the same time he is tempted. He is the one that allows you to train, as long as it's with him or under his supervision. He loves testing your abilities while training. He admires your physique and has to restrain himself from touching you. He just wants his hands to explore your body. You could do the same to him. You wouldn't mind; he's pretty sure you wouldn't mind. The fact that you are from the Yiga Clan only interests him more. There's so much knowledge about their battle tactics and customs that you are keeping from them. Wars mimics Legend in the way that he will break you down emotionally to learn more about you. Wars needs to know about where you came from because, in a way, he understands. He's dealt with the training, having to deal with royalty, and saving the world. You're a soldier, just like him. You must understand that on some level. He just feels this automatic connection. It's like he's found the one he's been looking for all his life. A lover in the guise of an enemy.

Cal is the last one to fall for you. He can't believe that yiga scum would cause so many versions of himself to fall in love. Until he sees the softer side of you, just for a moment. Then, you have him hooked. He starts to see you as a victim of them. You are just someone who needs to be reformed and protected. He devotes every second of his free time to teaching you how to be an individual, not just another yiga soldier. Perhaps his teaching includes having to get up close and personal with you. He has never kissed anyone before, but he'd be more than willing to practice with you. You know—to help you reform yourself.

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vesppperoro · 13 days

Note

Could I request headcannons of the Hazbin Hotel Crew/Staffs Reactions to a batman or moon knight like hero appearing in hell and somehow drastically taking down its crime. ( Let's just say they got the information from the news or something)

Hazbin Hotel Staff with Batman Sinner!Reader (Male)

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Cherri Bomb, Sir. Pentious, Alastor.

A/N: This request is so silly I love it. Sorry if some of them were too short! I couldn’t really think. I’ve been busy cramming for college exams </3

Charlie Morningstar

When she first figured out that the crime rate was decreasing, she was happy. Conflicted, but happy.

Maybe people are actually trying to be better! But.. why?

She didn’t know.

That was, until, she came across a thief one night. She could handle herself perfectly fine, but something stopped the man.

A figure appeared behind the princess of hell and scared off the thief.

She turned around and saw you! Your face was covered with a mask, so she couldn’t tell who you were.

Before she could say anything, you dashed off. She tried to follow but you disappeared into the night.

She told Vaggie about you and they proceeded to look for you.

They almost gave up. If it wasn’t for you showing up at the front of the hotel, of course.

Charlie was overjoyed! But how did you get into Hell anyways? Why were you so hellbent on fixing the crime rates in Hell?

At least you were trying to help.

You support her idea BIG TIME. You even became the protector of the Hotel! If anyone dared to oppose it or attack it, they’d be swiftly dealt with by you.

She’s OBSESSED with your gadgets. She loves how unique they all are!

She obsesses over your cape.

You two have definitely sung a song together. Maybe something relating to wanting to redeem sinners, Heaven being in the way, and to not relent due to that fact.

Vaggie

She was weirded out by you, to be honest.

It’s HELL, there’s always gone be crime. Why would someone try to stop it?

Either way, she tried not to think about it.

However, when her girlfriend showed interest, she lightened up. Anything for her, Y’know?

You two have pretty deep conversations, especially about the world.

You two spend nights together sometimes! You’re up during those hours anyways and she is as well (sometimes).

You both watch over the hotel and have fun while doing so.

I’d say you both became close friends.

Angel Dust

He treated you like any other man. He flirted with you ALL the time.

He teases you about your name and sexualizes the hell out of your outfit.

He didn’t really get too close. That was, until, you came with him and the group whenever Charlie and Vaggie went to talk to heaven.

When you nearly beat the shit out of Valentino, Angel began to see you as more than some dude who protects the hotel.

The fact you didn’t even show that you were doing it for him made it better. He wouldn’t have to suffer for it the next day.

You tried to break him out of the contract, to no avail. He was happy you cared for him, however.

You’re very protective over him. He appreciates it, but he never admits it.

He loves your gadgets but he always asks if you have sex gadgets. You always deny it but he still asks.

You probably go with him and Cherri whenever they go out so you can make sure they’re safe.

Husk

He also found you weird. As I stated before, it’s HELL, why would you try to destroy crime rates?

You and him became friends after a while though.

You two have deep conversations as well.

You two are probably best friends.

Songs!! You two have sung together before.

He likes when you mess with his wings. He would never admit it, but he does.

When he saw you in action one day… oh my. THAT was the day his respect for you grew.

That and the few times you stuck up for him when it came to Alastor.

You two hang out often. You’re almost never seen apart!

Niffty

Oh boy.

She calls you the “bad boy killer”. She kicked your shins when she first met you.

You grew on her though…. When you tried to help her kill Valentino.

She LOVES climbing you.

Whenever she’s not cleaning, she’s on your shoulder.

You sometimes have to stop her from stabbing someone or burning down the kitchen.

She’s a little much, but you find her adorable.

She likes coming with you whenever you fight crime.

She says it’s because she likes seeing bad boys be punished.

It kinda scares you but you don’t say anything.

Cherri Bomb

Honestly, she found you hot.

How protective you are over them, the way you fight, the way you’re mysterious.

She likes your little bombs because.. yk… explosives are her thing.

She hangs out with you at times.

She took you out once with Angel and… it didn’t end too well.

You ended up beating the shit out of some HORRID people.

She thinks you’re cool. You two aren’t besties, however.

Whenever you fought with them in the war, she loved how you still protected everyone.

She tends to your wounds sometimes and calls you a dumbass.

She won’t admit it, but she wished you two were closer.

Sir. Pentious

He LOVES your gadgets! He’s an inventor too, y’know.

You two often talk about your projects and weapons.

Sometimes he asks you to make something with him, which you do.

He’s very interested in your stuff lol. He loves your costume too!

His Egg Boiz found your suit AWESOME.

You made them tiny versions of yours and they LOVED it.

You two are relatively close.

He finds you very cool. He likes hanging out with you!

Just two buds with awesome weapons bonding.

Alastor

Like some others, he found you weird.

He still doesn’t like you. He finds you to be annoying.

You actually care for the hotel, so he’s not very fond of you.

You take down crime rates, which is one of the main reasons he gets deals and shit in the first place. Because of this, you make him angry.

You also don’t smile much, so he teases you about it.

He treats you like he treats Lucifer.

You’re just another nuisance to him.

Your power does worry him a bit.

And he also doesn’t like the fact your technology is more advanced. It reminds him of Vox.

Maybe tried to strike a deal with you, but you declined.

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nkogneatho · 28 days

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i feel like satoru has a hard time accepting he is allowed to cry. he has lived a life of lavishness, yet those eyes don't sparkle at the luxury. it is because he was constantly pressured by the fact that he is the strongest and quiet unique. that man had a huge weight on his shoulders right from his childhood and still carried it to his death.

he doesn't think of all that "crying makes you weak" bullshit. the reason he has a hard time showing that emotion more often is because he has been a mentor and a protector. he keeps thinking what happens when the protector loses composure? the one that he has been protecting lose their faith. they lose their courage. and a dent appears in that"he will protect us" as "what if he can't?" his students look upto him no matter how annoying he potrays himself as. there are people who want to become as strong as him. who also want to be a hero. from gojo's pov, his cockiness, strength and behaviour is what keeps people motivated and become strong enough to be self dependent in fights and protect themselves. he wouldn't want to change that. satoru either cries alone, or conceals his tears behind that black mask.

he managed to lose his composure in front of geto many times because he considered geto to be as strong as him. geto didn't need his help. he thought. ironic, isn't it? the one he thought didn't need a savior, needed him the most.

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #pasi.txt

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heykayhayes · 15 days

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Updated NPC portraits of the leaders of the guild I built for the long-form DND campaign I just started this past month! I'm doing a very homebrewy take on the Tyranny of Dragons arc- starting with Hoarde of the Dragon Queen. I created a guild with seven factions based off of different birds/ adventuring skills, called the "Flocked Feathers." Each of my players is from a different guild faction. They'll be coming together under order of the Guildmaster for the special mission of collecting five Tiamat masks.

Murder of Crows - black ops mercenaries Study of Owls - protectors of arcane knowledge, artifacts Pod of Pelicans - sea-faring adventurers Flamboyance of Flamingos - guardians of high society, popular cities Kettle of Hawks - desert-dwelling heroes protecting trade routes Clutch of Hens - defenders of homesteads, farms, villages Swoop of Sparrows - preservers of nature, the natural world

Pyrus is going to be NPC/PCing as the party's Questmaster! He was "proboted" to this position by the Guildmaster. After Pyrus was caught leeching guild resources to support his personal quest for revenge against Tiamat cultists (thus working against the collective interest of the Flock), Guildmaster Viotto threatened to remove Pyrus from the Flock entirely. The trade to remain a member of the Flock was that Pyrus must accept a leadership position pursuing exactly what he wants- capturing Tiamat cultists- but as the leader of a team of worthy, young recruits. That's the "probation" part of the "probotion..." Pyrus is much more comfortable on solo missions and is not looking forward to being responsible for what happens to anyone else. Pyrus is in for a ride with this team, I can't wait to play him again, especially against all the amazing characters my friends have made!

What's really cool about a two-part campaign that spans so much time is everyone's character gets to begin at the sort of least-evolved version of themself, allowing a lot of room for growth over the course of the adventure. It's gonna be amazing!

#dnd #hoarde of the dragon queen #tyranny of dragons #hotdq #dnd oc #dnd5e #heykayhayes #pyrus bitterfang

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lakesbian · 5 months

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okay so first thing i like about interlude 3. in the part of the arc prior to it, we see taylor being severely mistreated by an adult PRT member--which pushes her to rob the bank with Great Gusto, wherein she contributes to beating up a lot of largely faceless wards. the sole exception to the lack of characterization the kid cops heroes receive in the pre-interlude chapters is glory girl, who spends a decent portion of the bank robbery trying to lord herodom's perceived wealth and prestige over the undersiders:

“I helped Aegis out of a jam on my way in, so he’s keeping your little friends busy. You should also know that the Protectorate is on their way from a wine and dine with Brockton Bay’s finest at the Augustus Country Club. Can’t speak for them, but I know I’d be royally pissed if some little snots dragged me away from a chance to have the club’s chocolate mousse.”

& tattletale simultaneously reaffirms & puts down this image she wants to present by mockingly calling her "prom queen" &c. and then in interlude 3, when we finally see the personalities behind the masks for the wards, miss militia comes in and says it outright:

“She was kind enough to volunteer to come here and patch you guys up,” Miss Militia told the young heroes, “Can’t send you home with horrible injuries and hundreds of bug bites, can we? That would give away the show.”

the prestige, the purported invincibility and success of being a young hero--it's all a show covering for the fact that they're fundamentally overworked, systematically manipulated child soldiers, being regularly thrown into life-threatening situations & used as weapons to beat down on other systematically abused children (like the undersiders). which goes So well with how a critical turning point in the prior chapter is victoria presenting herself as invincible, only to be deeply wounded by tattletale correctly observing that she isn't.

and letting people see past the facade is something the PRT/herodom at large considers to be worth a chewing out--piggot is mad that glory girl was called because she caused property damage, and property damage is bad for PR. she's less concerned with aegis standing there with a punctured lung than she is the bad PR of kid win not filling out paperwork properly before using a new weapon. and yes, obviously, aegis can't die from a punctured lung or having his retina detached or his ribs snapped--but the image of a teenage boy standing there half torn to shreds while the director reams them all for not being the perfect child soldiers is viscerally grim. miss militia doesn't say "we can't send you home with horrible injuries because that would suck and be unhealthy for you," she says "we can't send you home with horrible injuries because that would give away the show." bleak!

#wormtime 2 #wormtime 2 arc 3 #wormblr #parahumans

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turbofanatic · 8 months

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Got some questions on what the rest of Fierce Deity Link looks like in this AU (Yes I have another AU after Lunk, I'm indulging myself as I try to finish Aphelion sorry not sorry) so here you go! One cranky deity.

This is just my own thoughts feel free to disagree. I've forgotten a lot from the games!

I think the fierce deity is something akin to the Windfish in Link's Awakening. Both Termina and Koholint are sort of weird echoes of other worlds with questionable reality (unlike say, Lorule where multiple people can travel back and forth). In Link's Awakening, this is because it's all a dream of the Windfish and you have to wake it up/let it hatch. Despite being attacked by nightmares, Koholint is a beautiful place, leading to the horrible truth that you're going to maybe kill all those nice people you met as you awaken the Windfish.

Termina on the other hand, is entirely nightmarish. Everyone watches their death arrive over and over again. Something terrible happened in Ikana. Whatever the hell is dreaming or hatching here, it is screaming in pain.

The only way to get the fierce deity mask is to become part of this dying world. You have to help everyone and get each mask, becoming part of Termina. It's all futile in three days but some parts of it carry over, even if only in the masks you carry. How do you get the other transformation masks? You sooth the dead and dying and they give you their power. Link has soothed the broken down world of Termina and become part of it. Then he gets its mask.

Add in that fierce deities/wrathful deities in Buddhism are terrifying but compassionate protectors that destroy obstacles to enlightenment, and that there seems to be a theme of growing up (your enemy is an evil child and the fierce deity is literally a reskin of "adult" link) and I think this is Termina growing up and dispelling the illusions it was making for itself, much like the Windfish was waking up. But unlike Link in Link's awakening, Link in Majora's Mask became part of that world, and maybe it was so broken it needed him, so when he eventually leaves he carries it with him.

So in keeping with that theme, and the themes of the Hero of Time starting off as a green plant child that becomes sort of this ancient deathly monster, growth and death, living and dying, here's my AU version.

I tried to maintain the spirit of this interpretation while adding some of my own flair. Not sure if it worked, but I do love characters with absurd swords so it was fun.

It starts off as the gawky teen version because that’s how link saw himself as an adult, but it would mature with him, as he actually reaches adulthood. Its relationship with the hero’s shade being the subject of another post.

#fierce deity #bodyhorror #majora's mask #hero of time #the legend of zelda #myart #he becomes more aerodynamic with age #tloz #fierce deity link #bad moon

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rarityroo · 7 days

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Goosebumps

Keigo Takami x Gn! Reader

Hi, I made this while listening to Goosebumps by Travis Scott & Kendrick very great song I 🫶🏻 Kendrick, unfortunately this is kinda long at least in my opinion. Reader and Keigo are in a barley situationship also the theres some sexual tension towards the end. Enjoy!

Your relationship wasn't anything serious, hell it wasn't even a relationship by most people's standards. Hawks was always painted as a player or a bad boy, with a big ego and the raw skill to prove it, if only they knew. I mean they wouldn't be wrong, he was talented and a good hero at least at the start. He puffed his chest acting like the biggest man in the room. In some ways he was, he was the number two hero after all.

But being popular and wearing a mask doesn't stop him from being vulnerable. Behind it all he wasn't Hawks, he was Keigo, and that's the part of him only you can see. Despite his act, you know he's completely smitten by you. But, you seem to effortlessly glide through life although not completely unfazed by his advances. Every interaction with you sends his heart aflutter, yet you remain unfazed, your demeanor never faltering. You know about guys like him, at least you thought you did. It's like a game of cat and mouse, with Hawks desperately trying to win your affection while you remain just out of reach.

He seems to go to great lengths to impress you, it's honestly embarrassing, in a cute way, whether it's showering you with gifts and compliments or acting cocky to impress. Yet, you always seem to brush it off with a nonchalant smile, leaving him both frustrated and captivated by you.

The Pro-hero gala was in full swing, a display of glamour that seemed to reflect Japan's admiration for its mighty protectors. Keigo, as expected, was the center of attention, effortlessly charming the crowd with his very presence. As you made your way through the bustling venue, you couldn't help but be amazed at the sight. It was rare for someone like you, who worked behind the scenes as a secretary at a pro-hero agency, to be invited to such an exclusive event. But tonight, you were ready to make the most of it. And then, amidst the sea of capes, masks, and hero’s partners, you spotted him—Keigo, looking every bit as striking as he did in the headlines. He was surrounded by admirers, his trademark smirk never faltering as he regaled them with tales of his latest exploits. "Yeah, but I can't take all the credit those little sidekicks put in the work." He says as his admirers look at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

You tried to walk by without catching too much attention especially not his, sadly that wasn't going to be an option for you. One of his fangirls pushed you trying to get closer to him, causing you to be chest-to-chest with Keigo. Damn it.

Hawks looked down at you in shock, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Well, if it isn't [Your Name]," he said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "What's someone like you doing at a fancy shindig like this?"

You chuckled, feeling a surge of cockiness despite your earlier nerves. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd mingle with the heroes for a change," you replied casually, trying to keep your composure in the presence of the number two hero. To your surprise, the Hawks didn't seem to mind you bumping into him. Instead, he flashed you a charming grin. "Well, I'm glad you decided to grace us with your presence," he said, his tone playful. "I was starting to think tonight couldn't get any better, but here you are," he said, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn't help but laugh at his playful charm. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Hawks," you teased, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne enveloping you. "Everywhere, you say? I might have to test that theory," he replied, his breath brushing against your ear in a way that sent shivers down your spine. Your heart raced at the suggestive tone in his voice, but you didn't back down, you couldn't. "Well, you'll have to catch me first," you shot back, a playful challenge in your tone. You couldn't let him win too easily.

Hawks grinned, his confidence never wavering. "Oh, I intend to," he said, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise.

And with that, he extended his hand, "Care to dance?"

And just like that, you found yourself swept up in the gala, dancing the night away with Hawks by your side. No, not Hawks, Keigo, the night was shaping up to be far more than just another run-in with Keigo. Tonight, you weren't just a bystander in his world—you were a part of it, if only for a fleeting moment.

#hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #kiego takami #kiego takami x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha x reader #kiego x reader #hawks my hero academia #hawks x y/n #my hero academia #hawks x you #hawks

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