Locked In!!

Call me whatever you like || He/Him, technically an alter blog

[risingflood]

HEYA!

Hello hello, welcome to my blog

This'll get a big ol' fancy intro that I draw when I can be bothered to do it- but anywho

(Bnha) Hawks fanatic. Love that guy's character, down to do oneshots/x readers, and if you ever have any ideas for one, throw it on me.

Things I generally do:

Write/Draw Hawks

JJK Fan

Mha Fan

Oc x Canon

x readers

(You might know me originally from Kaique's Rambles. I ate that account and moved here)

[risingflood]

"Must you be so so..."

Prince!Suguru Geto x Knight!Reader

"... insufferable?" The sigh that followed sounded as if it came deep from within the princes' soul, his eyes narrowed and pinned on you. His personal bodyguard, the dog he had at his beck, his main protector, and...

... his biggest annoyance, barring Prince Satoru, heir to the Gojo Kingdom.

"It's in the job description." You shrugged, trailing along behind Suguru like you hadn't just caught him in one of his many escape attempts, "and what I get paid for."

"That's hardly fair," Suguru scoffed, the thick, manicured, stygian black expanse of his hair slipping over his shoulder in a cascade, "I would not be gone long."

"Only because I would find you," You chirped back, flashing the prince of grin, which only grew with the scowl you received, "plus, there's a ball tonight. You know how the King gets."

"Oh I sure do." Was the muttered reply, violet-brown eyes narrowing into a disgruntled glare.

[risingflood]

Okay okay okay but HEAR ME OUT.

Suguru Geto x Reader ramble Suggestive hints? Reader's gender neutral

Just...

Suguru with a stronger partner. Okay?

Suguru who loves being able to rise to the challenge of having a stronger partner. One who can manhandle him and shift him out of the way without too much effort.

One he actually loses playfights too, because while he may be skilled, there's something about your raw strength that makes part of him all gooey inside.

Suguru has never truly felt safe anywhere in his life. He clings desperately onto goals because it's his way to keep himself motivated - but true safety was something he'd only tasted briefly.

But in your arms?

Oh, he melts.

It doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter than him, he's snuggling himself into the space between your arms. The hands that settle on his hips, around his waist, knowing that you could physically shift him aside and he wouldn't be able to stop you with his own strength.

Suguru who deliberately pisses you off and twirls on your last nerve in that infuriatingly adorable calm way of his, eyes alight and dancing with mischief usually kept hidden. Just so that you might get annoyed enough to restrain him.

Just so that you might get annoyed enough to move him out of your way by his hips.

So that he remembers that despite everything, he still has a warm, safe place to nuzzle into and forget the world he's fighting for for a few hours.

[risingflood]

Random ass Satosugu x reader Au?? White Knuckle AU?? Hear me out.

Dear Icarus

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto x Gender Neutral Reader Don't ask me why I thought of this because I could not tell you

CW: White Knuckle is a climbing Horror Game. Taking of vomiting and injuries and death is going to be throughout everywhere. And also just general freak outs

Passing the initial test had been easy. Something of a mix between jumping from one place to another, hands sinking easily into the hold and muscles flexing as you hauled yourself up.

You'd grown familiar to this pattern, ever since your childhood. Climbing was in your blood, the way your muscles stretched and your lungs expanded, contracting with each miniscule slip that you may have done.

Easy, simple.

You hadn't expected to be one of the lone survivors at the end of what... happened.

Adrenaline had always been your friend, throughout your whole life. But nothing could have prepared you for...

That.

"Keep your head on." You whispered to yourself, past the screams of the damned and the clawing mass that never should have been created.

You looked up from the ventilation shaft, not flinching at the scuffling behind you.

One of the only survivors.

"I don't know how you can be so calm," Suguru breathed into the space behind you, a subtle tremble belaying his normally calm demeanor. Suguru had always been unshakable - it's why you got on so far.

But there's no way that scars weren't about to linger.

Satoru had definitely entered shock. His usual rampant rambling silenced as he shuffled forward, hand clinging to the back of Suguru's shirt, just as Suguru's hand grazed your ankle.

Reminding the three of you that you were alive.

You were sure if you looked back, you'd meet Suguru's terrified expression, and Satoru's haunted eyes.

You didn't want to think about it.

The sharp scent of metal and a much muskier, darker smell of something rotting assaulted your senses. It always did, and months ago you would have been queasy.

Suguru would have thrown up.

Satoru would have teased you both for it, while powering through it with the phenomenal skill he always had.

...

You hated this silence.

"I'm not." You murmured back, your eyes only fixed on what was in front of you. You think you were going to start hating vents like this.

Suguru didn't respond beyond brushing his hand over your calf.

"Registered heat signals entering substructure 17."

Your three names sounded throughout the voice echoing through speakers you knew you'd never find.

Your eye twitched. Suguru's hand clasped around your upper arm. Satoru's hands snapped into both of your shirts.

You swallowed, staring up at the ascent you needed to begin to make before it found you.

"Satoru?" His name fell from your lips in a soft whisper, and despite that, Satoru flinched. His gaze locked with yours, barely there if at all.

"... get on my back," You beckoned him over. Suguru pretended not to stare at the stubborn set to your jaw, a feeling much like anticipation and relief cracking through him despite the circumstances.

Satoru stumbled over, grasping onto you. His knuckled turned white with how hard he gripped onto your safety straps, Suguru's hand sliding and attaching your two carabiners to keep you locked together.

Ensuring Satoru's weight would be on your back, unmoving and not restraining your ability to climb outside of the added weight. Suguru hefted your backpack over his shoulders, adding it to the weight of his own.

Suguru's hand rested on Satoru's shoulder as he stared at you, a silent question in his eyes.

You offered him a trembling smile, hands clenching and unclenching beneath the safety of your grippy gloves. Your heart barely overshadowed the feeling of Satoru's own against your spine.

"We need to start climbing."

[risingflood]

So Rough...

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto x Gender Neutral Reader Silly thoughts...

"Stop being so rough with meeee," Satoru, the glorious man he is, pouts from where he's trying to wiggle away from beneath you. Useless in his endeavors, since he basically put himself there in the first place.

Your body is folded around his, keeping him firmly planted on the carpeted floor. There's giggling hidden in each breath the either of you has taken, chests thundering with the exertion of a good ol' playfight.

"Don't start fights you can't win, then," You sniffed, pressing him firmer into the ground. His hair is roughed up, inevitably going to be sticking up at all ends whenever you finally release him.

"You," An all-too-familiar voice drawled, infectious with mischievous intent. You didn't even get time to yelp before Suguru was tackling you off of Satoru, the two of you skidding a bit over the floor. Laughter ripped itself from you as you fought back, grappling at his beautiful, long black hair, "are such a little shit."

"He got himself into that! He deserved it!" You complain, but it falls on deaf ears when Suguru flops his entire weight on you. Air escapes your mouth in a rush, followed by a drawn-out groan.

"Well we can call this retribution, then. Must protect the princess, after all."

"HEY! I resent that!"

[risingflood]

Wasteland

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto x Gender Neutral Reader CW: SCP Foundation (with my own ideas), Horror Relations are Romantic.

INFORMAL SERIES -> Part 1

Turns out, Mrs. Fukuda provided absolutely no help to your predicament. She offered you nothing but a half-baked sympathetic smile, one you knew she didn't mean. One that held utterly no regard for your livelihood, beyond knowing it would take at least three people to do the job you already upheld.

"Remove anything technological before entering the chambers."

The cold, mechanical voice coming through the overhead speakers was familiar, but it did nothing to settle the unease crawling in your gut. You'd already removed all you could, intimately familiar with the way things had to be done.

Really, you were just hoping you weren't going to immediately be slaughtered. You'd seen that happen to other researchers, the way their blood flooded the ground, growing chilly as no one dared approach for fear of something Else happening.

... fun times.

"You are entering the chamber of SCP - 7512. Defense team on standby. You may proceed."

Hearing your name through the speakers next never got jarring, the imposing, thick metal door staring you down. The first one open with a smooth glide and a clunk, only to slam shut behind you.

One more door between you and this new SCP.

"Stand by for cleaning protocols."

You never flinched at the hiss of disinfectant and another chemical, from another SCP, filling the chamber. You didn't flinch when it stopped, either, and the final door slid open with a hissing release of pressure.

Violet-brown eyes met your gaze. Humanoid, but uncannily not. Like it was seeing something beyond just your existence.

"And you are?" Suguru said lightly, a forced polite smile on his face. If you'd been a lower rank, you may have sympathized with the almost-human, but alas.

You'd learned better than to do that.

You gave him your name, making your way over to your chair. Naturally, there was a thick barrier between you and it - the only thing the both of you sharing being the equally as thick, sturdy table bolted to the floor.

"So if I have this correct," He drawled, voice falsely light-hearted and calm, "you are... what, my Warden?"

"In a way, perhaps," you acquiesced, ignoring the shiver of discomfort and fear that wiggled up your spine. No one in your set of circumstances would be comfortable here.

The ones that would be had all died.

"Would you mind answering some questions?" You inquired, finding it unusually difficult to look away from the way Suguru's hair framed his face. His eyes, too knowing for your personal comfort, stared into your own with a curious head-tilt.

"Depends. Would you answer some in response?" His voice was... too calming, for your liking. Like he knew how to get what he wanted.

The problem is, you don't know what he wants.

... An eye for an eye, kind of deal. You ask him something, he asks another thing in return. Interesting set of circumstances, but you'd need to be firm in what you would and wouldn't share.

"I suppose that would depend on the depth of the question." You returned easily, suppressing the curious light that flickered in your mind. The two-faced torture of new SCPS:

Were they going to kill you, or could you talk to them properly without risking your life?

What classifications would they slip under by the end of your investigation? You wondered.

"Then expect the same in return." Suguru slid the book he was reading shut, right after memorizing the page he'd gotten to. It joined the rest of the stack on his side of the table, little of it truly read through as of yet.

Siiigh, this was going to be an interesting time for sure.

"What year do you think it is?" You tapped lightly on table, watching as Suguru's face shifted in thought.

"2017?"

...

Interesting. Was he a victim to time dilation?

Evidently, you knew this would all be noted down and turned into a transcript by those watching from the cameras.

"What year is it?" Suguru inquired, leaning forward an inch.

"2047."

"Oh."

Fun times indeed.

Taglist: @katthekat1234, @delusiontown-exe as requested!

[cupidstrace]

Satoru graduates and starts going on missions alone. He gets back home to a quiet house and can’t stand the silence, so he gets a puppy to fill in the cracks.

Satoru names his puppy Hachiko after the dog that waited by the train station for its dead owner to return from work. And Hachiko waits by the door for Satoru to return home every day.

Satoru calls Hachiko’s name to tell her he’s home when she’s an old crusty white dog with cataracts. She comes limping toward the sound, tail wagging, brushing against the walls.

Satoru buys a gravestone for Hachiko when she passes on and buries her in his family graveyard like she’s human. Sometimes he gets home and slips off his shoes while absentmindedly calling her name, and the sound echoes like a plea into the emptiness of the room.

Satoru never really moves on. He keeps a photo of Hachiko in his wallet, right next to an old polaroid of him, Suguru, and Shoko, and on his bad days, he stares at the memories like they might come to life again somehow.

Satoru refuses to get another puppy.

Satoru dogsits for Megumi on the weekends and cries when the divine dogs play fight. The white one looks just like Hachiko and keeps smacking the black one and the black one just playfully swats it away and they remind Satoru so painfully of his teenage years.

Satoru comes home one day and flicks on the lights. This time, he remembers not to call Hachiko’s name. But he’s greeted with cheers, his students, his old classmates.

Happy birthday.

Satoru cries when a party hat is placed on his head and two puppies are placed into his lap. One black, and the other white. For a moment, he almost calls the white one Hachiko, but he swallows the name and just lets them lick his hands.

Satoru watches them grow up from a distance, never really allowing them to be his whole world the way Hachiko was. He feeds them, walks them, but keeps them in a separate room so they don’t wait by the front door. They’re not allowed to sleep in his bed. He can’t bear to see history repeat itself.

Satoru lies on the concrete bleeding out, and his last thought is of the empty house that will follow. He doesn’t think of victories, or curses, or even appearing strong for once. He only wonders if the puppies will be waiting by the doggy gate the way Hachiko used to wait – tails wagging, patient, loyal.

Satoru never gets to find out.

[risingflood]

"Please."

The plea fell from your mouth in a rush, like wind stolen from your lungs. Your hand clamped around semi-real flesh, much to the stunned shock of the Genie you'd summoned.

"Please," You continued, swallowing back the tears that ached in your throat, "I only want one wish. I just- I need her to be okay."

The silence stretching between you was deafening. His hair swayed with the tilt of his head, crystaline blue eyes locked with your own. Gojo smiled, but you weren't sure how kind it was.

"One wish, huh? You have yourself a deal."

Anyway can you tell I have thoughts? I have thoughts. Genie/Jinn Gojo x Kitsune Suguru x Reader You see these thoughts? I see these thoughts

[risingflood]

Wasteland

Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto x Gender Neutral Reader Thought... CW: SCP Foundation (with my own ideas), Horror, literally just a random ass thought I had that I thought could be silly. Relations are Romantic.

INFORMAL SERIES -> Part 1 (you are here) -> Part 2

Your head jerked up at the sound of your own name- or had mentally. Outwardly, you were composed, ignoring the thread of tension that thrummed up your spine.

"Yes?" Your voice returned, even and composed, even as you adjusted the strap to your uniform. Almost unconsciously, your hand grazed the ID card sitting on the thick, dark fabric made to ensure that little to nothing could tear through it.

Your name. Clearance level: 4.

"I've been told to bring you this report." The Level 3's voice was just as quiet, but underlaid with nervousness, "New SCPs have been taken into custody. Mrs Fukuda has appointed you their caretaker for the time being."

The folder made a soft thudding noise as it hit the white metal of your desk. You slid your finger along the edge of the brown paper, internally sighing to yourself. A flick of your hand dismissed the Level 3 as you sunk back into your seat.

Caretaker, huh?

You knew what that entailed. You'd been given a task before like this. The healed-over injury to your arm could have attested to that- an SCP that had breached containment in search of you, its supposed tormentor.

Your gaze fluttered listlessly over the pristine walls, breathing in the smell of newly sprayed disinfectant, before your hand met the bridge of your nose.

Another responsibility, outside of the reports you still have to file. Two more responsibilities- if the amount of files were accurate, and there weren't secretly multiple in one- on top of your ever growing list.

The resigned silence that settled on your shoulders like a dead weight eventually lifted, your fingers sliding once more against the rough paper. You flipped open the first file, giving it a once over. You knew there wouldn't be a lot of information (uncomfortable enough), but to see these as fleshed out as they were was... weird.

Item #: SCP - 7010

Informally: Gojo Satoru.

Special containment procedures: SCP - 7010 must be inside of his chamber at all times. He cannot have access to anything that has not been priorly reviewed. Additionally, sweets and stimulation seems to keep him from attempting to leave.

SCP - 7010 appears as a light-skinned, humanoid male with white hair. Its eyes have not been seen, as they are covered by a bandages that act as a blindfold. It is theorized to be part of its face, but there is no confirmation. SCP - 7010 requires bribery in order to give information.

...

Right, you deadpanned, sighing internally to yourself, okay. Hi, uncanny valley. I'll see you soon.

You flipped to the next folder, flipping the clip open and squinting at the words.

Item #: SCP - 7512

Informally: Geto Suguru.

Special containment procedures: SCP - 7512 is to be kept in a chamber away from SCP - 7010 and given access to books in order to not cause unrest. Avoid physical contact.

SCP - 7512 is a humanoid, tall male with long, stygian black hair. Its eyes are brownish-violet, and it wears a simple, short-sleeved, white t-shirt and baggy black trackpants.

You took one, long, slow blink before hauling yourself out of your desk chair.

You really, really, needed to talk to Mrs. Fukuda.

[risingflood]

He's exhausted beyond belief, both physically and mentally. You can see the way his shoulders are weighed down, even if part of him is happy.

And despite this exhaustion, he still cups your face in his hands. He still presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, the bottom of your jaw, before flopping his weight on you.

Despite this exhaustion, bleary, tired eyes blink up at you from where he's settled over you like an weighted blanket, inquiring tiredly about your day.

Despite being so, so, so tired, he still snuggles closer and refuses to sleep until you've finished talking to him. You're his favourite story he couldn't live without.

Despite being so exhausted, he still struggles out a whispered "g'night" and burrows his face in the crook of your neck. You all around him. The bodywash you use. Your own natural scent.

Warm.

Safe.

Home.

[risingflood]

Silly goober

[risingflood]

Hermes...

[dynachan]

[risingflood]

Anyway as you can tell I am very gay at this time

[risingflood]

Is it too much to ask?

Hawks, who doesn't want his moniker anymore, but doesn't feel right being called Keigo Takami.

Hawks, who after losing his wings, had to learn to walk again for months. The weight on his back wasn't there anymore. And that's not even thinking about the therapist he probably still has to see.

Hawks, whose senses don't feel right anymore. He used to be able to hear vibrations through his wings, feel the wind running through them. He used to be able to hear and see much sharper. He can't any more. And he hates it.

Hawks, who can't seem to taste anything anymore. It's all ash to him.

Hawks, who desperately burrows into you with a huff. Hawks, who constantly feels off balance, but maybe you. Maybe you're steady.

You, who kisses his forehead so gently, who cherishes him, and indulges in all of the habits he insists he doesn't have. He may not have the bird-brained instincts, but muscle memory still remained.

Keigo, who hauled you into the nest he'd made and curled up, face burrowed as deep into your neck as possible. Breathing in your scent, letting the one thing that was solid wash over him.

You. You were solid. You were the only thing that felt Right.

[risingflood]

Gentle touches throughout the day. His face buried in the crook of your neck, muttering out how he could get drunk on the smell of you. Such a grounding sensation.

Everything he eats tastes like ash but you smell like honeyed promises kept under dawn light filtering through the blinds on an early morning.

[risingflood]

Hear me out.

Fae AU Hawks.