A/N: It's been a while since I've written something. Everything is under the cut. I'll write more soon.
Not proofread.
"What's so good about him, huh? That he can satisfy you better than me, your master?" the prince growled in your ear, one hand painted bruises on your waist while the other wrapped around your cock. The uniform pants you diligently kept tidy were bunched at your ankles, long discarded and forgotten. He pushed you up against the wall, his knee between your spread legs. Climax after climax, your legs have long since gone numb and your vision was mudded with tears as you struggled out a reply. All you could feel was the tight spasming in your core and the feeling of pins and needles on your skin.
"It was a misunderstanding," you wanted to say, but your tongue refused to move, paralyzed by the pleasure; all you could do was shake your head. You tried to tell him how it wasn't your fault that the prince from the faraway land seduced you and ended up with you under him on his bed. You tried to tell him about the eyes of the visiting prince that defiled you as it roamed along your body.
But you couldn't.
The prince's sharp eyes stared into you and left no attempt to mask his contempt. His grip tightened around your cock, eliciting a tired whine from your lips.
"I asked you a question, so answer it," the prince ordered once more, speeding up the pumps of his hand and digging his fingernails into your waist.
That was it.
Your legs trembled as you felt your abdomen clench when you neared the climax, "Master, I...I'm sorry! It was my fault!" you choked out, your words selected to appease the prince. Your brain was too jumbled to distinguish your true desires. Your lungs burned for air as you recovered from your high. Your hands were propped against the gold-leafed walls of the prince's bedroom. Your fingernails were digging into the material.
You felt your climax drip along your leg as your breathing returned.
The prince gritted his teeth, "Is that so?" he asked.
You nodded.
His grip on you disappeared and you slumped to the ground, no longer supported by his arms.
"Get going now," he says. You can hear his footsteps fade towards the door.
(fanfic inspired by this mouthwatering fanart of Overhaul by @spectra-phantasma Thank you for your hard work, love! 🐦⬛💜💚)
News spread like wildfire last night.
Rumor has it that he was captured during his guild's disbanding and jumped, stolen from his home and his adoptive father, forced to watch as his lands and properties were set ablaze by blue hell flames. The street rat who went from rags to riches and into a matter of a few hours was once again homeless, penniless, and on the streets.
The proud, arrogant, and confident young boss still stood tall, golden hues frosty, even when barely clothed and close to butt naked, in chains, leather, and a quirk restraining collar.
He looks so pretty tied like that. You think with a coy smile on your lips. You had snuck out of the palace and made your way into the underground black market, more specifically, the human slavery and trafficking district. Your only bodyguard, Eraser Head, is at your side. He was all you needed.
Even in chains, caged and bound, you could see it.
The fire in his molten amber gaze, as cold and hard as his low, monotone voice when he hissed, grumbled, and cursed at the slave traders touching him and dragging him onto the stage as the next main attraction. The infamous Overhaul, the underground's "demon with no heart," the man with a godlike and alchemist-level quirk, and apparently, he had a Greek God's temper and body to match.
You wanted to break him. Make him into your fuck toy and your personal pretty courtesan.
Yes. You must have him, Kai Chisaki, Overhaul.
You always saw him in passing, in the crowds with his magenta and golden beaked plague mask covering the lower half of his face. Now, with the birdlike opened caged muzzle strapped to his face, you could finally see all of him fully.
You bit your lip as arousal and excitement, the thrill of owning him and making him yours heated and coiled in your abdomen, making lust and desire pool between your thighs.
You are the Queen; what you want, you get.
Eraser knows that look in your eyes. He'd seen it a thousand times when you found a pretty and unbroken toy you desperately wanted to play with. Watch it bend and break, fall for your charms, your body, and cling onto your freely given love before getting bored and moving on to a new one.
Underneath his cloak, Eraser inwardly sighs. He knew there was no way of talking you out of this. His Mistress was stubborn; at least, she used her funds wisely, unlike the previous Queen, who loved to throw grand balls and parties nearly every two months on top of national holidays. When your mother died, you acted quickly with the help of All Might, and Endeavor salvaged the kingdom's debt, and crime rates lowered. You kept your citizens fed and taxes at a reasonable rate.
Of course, you knew crime was everywhere. Even during times of peace, other kingdoms waged wars, burned, pillaged, started anew, and rebuilt. It's the law of the world, the game of thrones, the never-ending darkness that plagues this world in a society where people are valued by their quirks rather than themselves individually.
Eraser's charcoal black orbs turned from your masked and cloaked covered figure and returned to the stage. His highly trained eyes took in the other man's physique, the honed and refined hard muscle yet lean and agile, his shape and potential. Overhaul relied heavily on his quirk, but it was clear he still maintained and sharpened his body as well as his mind. The caged raven had hidden his body underneath his clothes to fool his enemies.
That alone made him earn a hint of respect. Plus, if his Queen was injured, he could have the ex-villain cure her with his alchemy and quirk, keep him as a bodyguard and shield... adding him as their Queen's lover would bind him to her.
Eraser and Hawks would still keep watch in the shadows until Overhaul fully gained their trust. If the ex-criminal refused their Queen's more than generous offer, then they would make his life into a living hell. He scanned the place once more, arms crossed and leaning against the stone wall. He needed to remain alert and ready should someone recognize them. So far, everyone's gazes and murmuring whispers were more focused solely on the man on stage.
The market was crowded, jam packed.
No doubt Overhaul's fellow captured allies, and enemies were all watching with bated breath, wondering their boss's fate after being captured, humiliated, stripped of his status, clothes, and about to be sold, his fate sealed.
Nezu walked on stage, and the room grew quiet.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," The dog, rat, mouse, whited furred leader of the slave trade smiled brightly in delight to see another human suffer as he bit back his sadistic mirth and laughter. "It's a pleasure to welcome everyone tonight. I'm sure you are all here to see the fate of our beloved, dangerous, and highly respected raven on stage."
He waved his paw towards Overhaul and gave a bow of respect.
"As much as I've appreciated your past contributions, Overhaul," Nezu hummed, closing his eye and shaking his head. "I'm afraid my hands are tied as The League has already sold you to me." A string of evil giggles slipped out, then he coughed and cleared his throat, his mask of professionalism returning, and sighed dramatically. "But alas, I've decided from the goodness of my heart to offer those gathered tonight to become your new Master or Mistress." His black, beady eyes darkened as Overhaul's own golden hues returned to the trader's gaze with a challenging glare.
Lesser slaves and weak-willed citizens shivered in the crowd.
Nezu's cheery tone returned as he faced the audience. "Let's begin with the price of a generous 10,000 gold, shall we?" His mask cracked as he threw his head back and cackled loudly, unhinged and barking laughter; clearly amused by many of the humans' faces paled and their jaws dropped.
Did the half-mad, sneaky little rat truly start the bid with the price he bought Overhaul for? Of course, he did.
The bids were starting.
It kept climbing higher and higher until only a few nobility were remaining to stake their claim on such a prized, caged, and handsome bird.
You noticed a familiar, greedy old hag a few rows across from you. You'd recognize that long, thick, spiky, dark purple hair anywhere.
Your eyes immediately narrowed, Nemuri Kayama, Midnight. The Mistress of The Underground Pleasure District and local Brothels, or "Streets of Heaven and Sin," which is widely known, even in the Capital. The purple-haired and blue-eyed woman was a decade your senior; she might have once been your best friend and found sister, but not anymore. No, not since you became Queen and she became her family's Mistress.
Midnight flaunted her beauty, charming both men and woman around her red-painted manicured and painted nails. Her black dress was skin tight and accentuated her voluptuous figure as she kept her arms uncovered in case she needed to use her quirk on misbehaving clients, citizens, enemies, workers, and slaves.
As if feeling your gaze on her, Midnight half turned. Her blue eyes meet yours, twinkling with mirth and amusement underneath her red mask. Fully facing you before making a beeline towards you, as her hoard of lackeys, chained boy toys, and workers followed their mistress on chained and leather leashes attached to her wrist. Each of the poor bastards was wearing a metal cock ring underneath their robes, and whimpering moans, muffled groans, and needy whines escaped their mouths in one shape or form.
She let go of the leash to her assistant, a newbie in training, if you had to guess. The poor redhead. A shy woman must have had some promises and potential if Midnight handpicked her for the job as her assistant to take over in one of her many brothels. Her red hair, green eyes, and luscious curves made her stand out and beautiful; you can admit that.
"Well, well, it's rare to see you coming down from your high tower, your majesty." Midnight purred, tilting her head and holding her riding crop underneath her chin. "See something you like, pet?"
Your smile strained, and your jaw twitched. "Good evening, Midnight. How's business?"
Eraser inwardly sighed, great. Midnight had a habit of riling you up and teasing you out of sisterly affection, a little too hard. Borderline, nearly pouncing on you after she riles her own-self. He swears if Mic here - No, oh second, thought, don't think about that overly loud, yellow cockatiel.
He noticed that the remaining bidders were you and Midnight, the two richest and powerful women in the kingdom.
Nezu waited, a purple and blue aura surrounding him. "Ladies, would you like to continue higher bidding?" He knew who you were. You couldn't fool him. He knew your scent and settled traits.
He turned to Midnight, "Midnight?"
"He's such a handsome and pretty delicious birdman, isn't he?" Midnight smirked, hand on her hip and staring directly at Overhaul, who sneered at her, his clear distaste and disgust visible through the muzzle.
Oh dear, he doesn't seem to like her.
It's impressive, even while bound and chained, disgraced, he still looked his nose down at Midnight.
She turned towards you, practically gushing and wiggling with excitement and arousal, unashamed as she bit her lower lip and squealed loudly. "Oh, darling. The harder they resist, the sweeter it is to break them!" Midnight knew your secret, your obsession, and infatuation with Overhaul, the ex-criminal.
Strutting towards you with a confidant sway of her hips as her breasts moved against her thin gown, leather, chains, and jewelry. Pulling out her black feathered fan to cover her mouth, leaning towards you and whispering, "Do you truly want him, my sister?" She purred with a seductive drawl, cheeks heated and sky blue eyes sparkling.
You narrowed your eyes, talking through clenched teeth. "What do you want, Midnight?" You bit out. "You usually aren't so generous and willing to give a handsome man away without a reason."
Midnight shrugged and giggled, patting you on the back and pulling you into her side. "Now, now, don't get upset, Y/n." She pouted and scolded lightly in a motherly voice.
You felt her breasts squishing against yours, and you inwardly groaned, yet your irritation and aggravation bled through, "Gods above and the afterlife, what do you want, Nemuri?"
Midnight released another loud, girly squeal as she pressed her cheek into yours. "Oh, Y/n, please, please, let me borrow Eraser for a weekend, please, please, please!" She practically begged, swaying you back and forth, literally begging.
Eraser's eyes widened, and he shook his head no. A huge noticeable blush on his face. He loved getting kinky in the bedroom, but Midnight could be, well, a bit too extreme. Her dominant and sadistic side was sexy, hell, he matched her freak, but other than sex and being old friends, they hardly saw each other.
It made things more awkward.
Rolling your eyes, this time, you sighed. "What do you need him for?"
"I need him to keep me company for a trip to the Capital!" Midnight let go of you and leaned back, pressing her hands against her cheeks and practically bouncing. "It's a long trip, and I need new clothes, potions, equipment, and a little of this, and a little of that -" The innuendos weren't lost to you. You've been to her pleasure dungeon, or "play room" as she calls it. It's actually quite impressive.
You cut her off, keeping your voice firm and quiet, "Only, if you don't overly drain him and wear him out again, Nemuri... I need him for work." You press, hand on your hip.
As Nemuri opened her mouth, the tiny mouse, bear, dog, thing interrupted.
Nezu's voice raised, calling for both women's attention. "Will there be another offer, ladies?" He asks, tone dark and sweet with an undertone of impatience. "Midnight?" His black, beady eyes stare at Nemuri, then to you. "Mysterious Stranger?"
Overhaul's stood there, looking bored. His hands were tied behind his back, wearing this ridiculous open and mocking birdcage covering his face, he was bound in leather and chains, and only given a loincloth to cover his groin, but his ass was out.
This whole unfortunate situation was downright humiliating and degrading, damaging his pride. He didn't care which one of those women wanted him; he wanted a bath, he was hungry, the night's chill made him cold, he was tired and wanted to sleep.
Get on with it. He inwardly groans, hands clenching behind his back.
Despite his irritation and drowsiness, a hint of curiosity was drawn to the mysterious stranger. He didn't know why he should care. And yet... something about your voice sounded familiar? It escaped him. Making him more inwardly frustrated with himself. It sounded soft, seductive, comforting, and dare he say angelic?
Overhaul's gaze flickered to the matriarch of The Underground's Pleasure District, Nemuri Kayama, Midnight. He openly sneered in disgust, turning his nose up, no doubt the woman was filthy, as her high-paid and lower-class whores she governs. Many times, his clients and sponsors wanted to meet in one of her pleasure houses, talk, drink their fill, and then go fuck their desired hole for the night. They would offer to pay for his drink or choice of pleasure, but he would refuse.
He didn't care if the men or women were checked every month by the best doctors or nurse in the city, Recovery Girl or not, he wasn't going to touch them with a ten foot pole.
He didn't care if the eight bragged or fought about who gave the best head, had the best pair of tits, ass or pussy in each of that Harlot's establishments. He wasn't going to set foot in any of those back rooms any further than he had to, or participate in the weekly orgies, even if Hari or Pops paid for it, or gave their recommendations for a partner.
No. There was only one woman Kai wanted, but could never have. Despite his lands, titles, and wealth, he was still considered a lesser born to be with her. The only stunning creature whose beauty, wit, and charm had wormed its way into his heart.
The Queen of this country, Y/n L/n. Otherwise, known as Y/n the Fair. Compared to her nitwit and foolish mother, their previous Queen, you had shown promise. Using your power and influence to make this kingdom prosperous, flourish, and think of your people first.
Truly like an angel in this diseased ridden, rat-infested, dark, unfair, and cruel world. If Kai had to become a villain, forsake his old name, his humanity, his past, to become a demon in order to cure this plague known as quirks, obtain enough power and wealth that his statue wouldn't matter for a change to try and court you.
It was selfish to wish it, I know that. Overhaul blinked as he shook his head and inwardly sighed. He was pulled back to the present as he heard Nezu's voice grind in his ears.
"With Midnight forfeiting, Overhaul," That sneaky little rodent chuckled darkly. "Or should I say Ex-Yakuza Boss. You now belong to our mysterious stranger." He snickered, grinning wide and unhinged. "Come up and claim your prize, my dear."
Overhaul's golden hues narrowed. Nezu knew something he wasn't sharing. It was pissing him off.
"If you are returned back to me, Chisaki," Nezu met his burning and intense gaze with his own. "I fear Midnight will become your new Mistress." He let his words hang in the air and added, sounding smug. "So be a good little slave for your First Mistress, won't you?"
That comment and detail made Overhaul's jaw clench and grind hard. "Watch it, vermin. Those words may come back to bite you someday, pest." He growled, taking a deep breath through his nose to calm down his temper.
"Prove me wrong, Chisaki, and I will owe you money." Nezu sassed back, turning his gaze towards the Mysterious Woman and her cloaked companion. "Seems the old gods and the new have favored you this night, old friend."
Overhaul remained silent, watching as one of the black cloaked figures approached.
👑👑👑
You did it!
A high-class caged bird with clipped and broken wings. Your birdy. Your plaything. Yours to use for your own pleasure. Yes, if he won't submit. You will have to bend him and whisper tempting words until he bows down.
Whether he liked it or not. Your word was law. He was your property, and you owned him now; his life was yours, and yours alone.
"Eraser," You chirped happily. "Escort him to the castle, make sure he's fully bathed, fed, fully dressed, and waiting for me in my chambers tonight." You had to quickly remask your features and tone as not to overexcite yourself. "Have Giran dig into what happened to the rest of Overhaul's men and the Shie Hassaikai's leader." You lower your tone into a whisper, "Our birdy will want to know." You slipped the royal seal and plenty of gold into his hand, enough to feed a whole nation for months.
Eraser nodded and bowed his head. "As you wish, your majesty." Pocketing the items and heading towards the stage.
You were watching Overhaul from the shadows for a long time. You disapproved of him trying to use a little girl to fuel his goal of curing people of this plague known as quirks. You knew all too well, witnessing firsthand how deadly and uncontrollable a person's quirk could become if the wrong person grew too greedy, too prideful, too arrogant, and dared to challenge their Queen.
It's what cost your mother her life.
Call yourself hypocritical, you didn't care. Even after everything he's done, you sympathized with his cause and silently supported him from your throne on high, and now, you would snatch your raven in his hour of need.
You knew if that money grubbing leech at the brothel had her way, she'd sell the young man's body every night like a male prostitute, work him day and night, tirelessly until he's broken; diseased and could no longer work, being forced out onto the streets, begging for scarps until he either committed suicide or died in some rat infested back alley.
You had seen too many woman and men being treated as such time and time again. You'd be damned if you let your birdman suffer any longer. True, your reasoning wasn't anything noble or any better, but at least, you know he would be safer with you than that old hag.
You sighed, watching as Eraser talked with the slave trader, whose eyes widened, filling with greed as he stared at the seal and leather pouch heavily pilled with gold. Your smile grew into a smug smirk, you were victorious, and if anything dared tried to steal him from you or outbid you, well, you will just have to send in Hawks.
Twirling on your heels, waving at Nezu as you went ahead of Eraserhead, lowering your hood on your cloak, and making your way back towards the palace. I have to bathe and look presentable for him, don't I? You paused as you entered the dark mouth of the alleyway, gaze following your prized birdman was being hauled off the stage, his displeasure, anger, and defiance as he was dragged by two Nomu's Nezu bought from The League. See you soon, Kai, my pretty bird. You smile and giggle to yourself, strolling further and further away, knowing you two will reunite soon enough.
🐦⬛🐦⬛🐦⬛
The young ex-yakuza was both intrigued and confused as to why he was being dragged towards the Queen's Castle?
He expected to be thrown into servitude as some lowly servant or chore boy, but instead Eraser dragged him towards a lavished, grand bathroom. The walls were white, the floor underneath his bare feet was carved out of limestone and marble, it shined in the candlelight; the room smelled clean with lavished soaps and scented oils, it calmed down his nerves to an extent, but still kept his guard up as Kai turned to meet the man's tired charcoals. "Why bring me such lavished liberties and luxuries?" Narrowing his eyes, growing more suspicious and perplexed. What was he planning? There's no way Eraserhead saved him from the goodness of his heart.
Eraser sighed, rubbing his eyes, and clicked his tongue. "I see that paranoia wasn't for show, Chisaki." Lowering his hand, making a twirling motion with his finger. "Now, turn around so I can get that caged muzzle and leather n' chains off of you, and you can bath before eating dinner."
Kai's hand twitched behind his back, then clenched as his jaw did. Doing as he's told, as he's reminded that with the quirk-restraining collar around his neck, he's quirkless.
Eraser moved slowly towards Chisaki, studying him for any sign of running or attacking him. "Before you get any ideas on fighting me and escaping, I don't have the key." He explains, proceeding to unbuckle the straps and chains. "Your new Mistress has the only key to your collar." He gave Hawks the key, flew back ahead of them, and gave it to you. "Fight and disobey her, and I'll make sure your life will be a living hell compared to what Midnight or Nezu would have done to you, understand?"
"Yes." Kai huffed, taking a deep breath to calm himself as he inwardly shuddered to remain still, phantom itches crawling against his skin.
Silence filled the room apart from the rattling of the chains and leather as the pair of stoic and rational men remained silent.
"There, I'll be outside." Eraser needs back, holding Chisaki's bonds in his hand. "The maids already placed clothes and everything you need in the basket by the bathtub." He turned and began walking towards the bathroom door, pauses at the threshold, peaking over his shoulder. "Dinner will be in an hour. Don't make her wait, Chisaki. Our Mistress is many things, forgiving, generous, but unforgiving to anyone who crosses her."
Kai's body tensed. "I may be an ex-yakuza. I'm not a complete mongrel, Erasure." He bit out calmly, a hint of ice in tone. "I still honor some of my house's traditions, mannerisms, and chivalry, even if Pops and I disagreed and clashed often."
Eraser knew it was childish, but he couldn't help it. He still couldn't believe that you, his Mistress, still wanted this Villain, this Monster of a man. Kai Chisaki should be grateful for your generosity, your mercy. He should be begging, kneeling at your feet like the worthless dog that he is.
Something in him snapped, "If you had kept your ungodly experiments and quirk away from that child, a young girl," He pressed, knowing the son of a bitch didn't regret his actions one bit. "Your own sire's granddaughter, then you wouldn't be here, Chisaki."
Eri? How had they known? Then again, he imagined word of his experiments, his groups disbanding, his capture, and what The League had done to him had spread to even The Castle's staff, even you, The Queen. No doubt from her Master of Whispers, Giran. Kai inwardly scoffed.
Kai glanced over his shoulder. "Everyone should be grateful for my efforts in formulating a cure to return humanity back to normalcy before quirks became a plague, a disease, spreading and infecting the world." He hissed, tearing off his loincloth and storming towards the large indoor bath. "Quirks will continue to grow powerful with each new generation." He explained, stopped at the edge of the bath, the scent of lemons and roses hitting his nose and filling his lungs. Who knew his favorite scents?
Kai shook his head as he continued, "I'm the only one willing to get my hands dirty. To do what needed to be done, unlike those old, cowardly, senile fools."
Eraser grit his teeth, muttering underneath his breath. "Can't believe she's chosen a monster like you." Without another word, he closed the door.
Kai huffed, stepping into the water as the warmth soaked into his aching, dirty, and tired body. He closed his eyes and sighed in content. Reopening his eyes and began bathing himself, scrubbing his body and hair clean, washing the smell of that big white rat and his workers' filthy touches and those Chimeras or Nomu's The League created. Those creations both fascinated him and gave him the creeps, knowing The Legendary Demon Lord and his mad Doctor were creating them deep in the heart of The Underworld.
Kai was too busy growing his influence, trying to distribute his cure, raise more funding, and juggling his responsibilities as his adoptive father's heir to feed his curiosity on The Nomus'. When those UA Hero Guild members busted down his door!
Lemillion and Deku destroyed the last two years of his research and resources. What he hadn't ordered stashed away was burned during the explosion in his laboratory, not to mention when Dabi set his castle and everything ablaze during his capture.
Kai's scar on the side of his forehead twitched and throbbed, his anger and frustration seething as his grip tightened on the side of the marble and hand-carved tub. The marble digging into his hand before he let go with a frustrated growl, held his breath to dunk himself underneath the water, resurfacing and standing. Thousands of water droplets fell down his body as he reached for a towel soft, fluffy purple towel to pat himself dry as he exited the bath.
Feeling refreshed, clean, and somewhat calmer, Kai stalked slowly towards the basket Eraser mentioned. He blinked, eyes widened in surprise as he found a pair of his favorite black linen shirts, breeches, leather boots, face masks, and white gloves. Now, he felt a hint of nerves crawling and twisting against his belly.
His heart thudded hard in his chest. It... it couldn't have been you, could it? Who had saved him? He told himself not to get too excited. What would you want with him? A criminal. Well, Ex-Criminal.
He had nothing to offer you. No lands, no money, no gifts, only himself. Kai swallowed thickly as his mouth grew dry; he'd heard the whispers and rumors of your sexual and carnal appetite in your chambers. Releasing a shaky breath as he shivered, his cheeks heating before he inhaled a deep breath, held it, and exhaled, straightening his shoulders.
If the old gods and new were truly merciful, as Nezu whispered into his ear about being bought and sold into your service, Kai needed to hold his head high. Nothing has changed.
His life's debt has been exchanged from Pop's to yours.
Yes, you were closer within his reach now, but you were royalty, a member of the nobility, one of the Gods most precious gifts to have been born into this cursed and cruel hearted world.
Kai dried himself, dressed, used the lotions, cologne, hair, and tooth brush he'd been given, waiting for him on the bathroom counter.
His adoptive father's words rang in his head, A debt must always be repaid, Kai.
He hooked the cloth mask over his face as he frowned. He'll never see the old man again. That thought made his chest ache as his gloved hand gripped the counter. "Pops." He whispered his name, peaking at himself in the mirror. Same face, same sharp golden eyes, same image he saw everyday.
A knock on the door made his gaze flicker towards the door's mirror image as Erasers voice called. "Chisaki, it's time."
Kai sighed and replied, raising his voice. "Yes."
"Good," he huffed, opening the bathroom door. "She's waiting."
Rechecking his appearance one last time, the ex-yakuza twirled on his boot heels and headed towards Eraser as he led the way. Maids waiting outside, sneaking glances at him, whispering, gossiping, and giggling, Kai paid them no mind. He was used to people staring at him.
Eraser clicked his tongue. "Quiet gawking and get back to work, ladies." He glared at the woman who nodded their head hurriedly, apologized, and exited the bathroom.
Kai felt his lips curl upward underneath his mask in amusement. And they called me a tight ass in The Shie Hassaikai.
A blonde haired, red winged man approached in the opposite direction, hands shoved into his pockets and grinning from ear to ear, then widened as he came closer towards Eraser and Kai.
"Well, well," The man's playful, honey'd orbs studied the ex yakuza from head to toe, whistling. "Looks like the one-winged caged bird cleans up nicely."
Hawks. The Queen's assassin and last line of defense should her other loyal guards and soldiers fall.
Whispers say he's Icurus reborn, or the child from The Greek God, Eros, a Demi God.
Kai narrows his eyes at Hawks.
The black haired head guard stopped, resulting in Kai stopping a few paces behind him. "Why are you still out this late Hawks?" Eraser asked.
Hawks' gaze shifted from Kai's to Erasers. "Nothin' much, just returning from runnin' an errand for our beloved Queen." He didn't miss how the Ex-Criminals' hands twitched, or his gaze turned more frosty and chilling.
Eraser waved him away, proceeding forward. "Yes, yes, good night, Hawks."
Hawks could help it. Couldn't keep his mouth shut as the once proud and arrogant, untouchable and powerful Overhaul passed him. "Be sure to be a good littl' pet for our Lady, ya hear Overhaul." He snickered, saying his Villain name as if it were a joke.
Kai tensed, muscles straining against his shirt, hands white knuckled at his sides, and his jaw clenched. Ignore him. Ignore him. He isn't worth it. He kept repeating to himself as he followed behind Eraser. That red-feathered chicken isn't worth it.
Hawks chuckled, raising his hands, interlocking his fingers behind his head, chirping and yapping, "Whoops. Did I strike a nerve, little birdy? Sorry. Sorry." His fake apologetic smile turned smug. "Hundreds of men would be crawling on their hands and knees naked to be where you are." He kept going. "Make 'er happy littl' raven."
Eraser twirled on his heels, grabbed his binding cloth as his quirk activated, charcoal eyes flickering blood red, and his long hair rising. "That's enough, Hawks! Get the fuck back to your post and watch your disrespectful mouth before I scrub your foul mouth with soap myself."
Kai's ears were practically fuming in anger. He didn't give a flying fuck what the stalking, strutting, diseased red-winged rat had to say about him, but disrespecting their Queen right in front of him? He won't stand for it.
It wasn't the first time Kai had beaten the ever-loving daylight out of some leering, perverted son of a bitch who dared make lewd and unsavory comments about you. He's heard worse in The Underground, Brothels, or petty, lowlife scumbags' mouths.
He was close to snapping had Eraser not stepped in. He supposed that earned him some respect in his book towards the older man.
"I'm just wishing the newbie some luck." Hawks shrugged, waved, and walked away.
Kai calmed down as Hawks grew further and further away. Good riddance. He inwardly snorted and huffed.
Eraser stopped in front of the dining hall, knocking. "Chisaki has arrived, my Lady."
"Thank you, Eraser." Your voice answered behind the grand door. "Enter."
Kai felt his heartbeat quicken and thunder in his ears. He felt the tips of his ears grow red before he inwardly shook himself and reschooled his features, watching Eraser open the door to a brightly lit dining room.
--- End of Part 1 -----
Part 2: The Queen's One Winged Bird
Part 3: Coming Soon!
Here's the full fanart by @spectra-phantasma
Seriously, full credit goes to them! Again, thank you so much for the Overhaul/Kai Chisaki love! I love this fanart sooo much! Go check it out! Worth it! 100%! Lookie, lookie!
As always, nice commenters from the WIP are tagged! Thank you so much!
@hideandgopeep @isabeauwolf @staitc-rj @angelblueflame @maleerie
hey can u do a dom!hela x sub!reader where they do it in one of asgard’s gardens
The princess of Asgard was more used to getting her way than any other citizen of the growing realm. After all, she was the princess. She held the fear of most of her servants and many of her subjects. Most.
You were Hela's personal maid and you were never afraid of her. You'd been caring for Hela as she'd been alive, a few years older so she was entrusted to your charge. You'd been there while she was learning her magic, making her own crown. You'd been there through the tantrums and you'd taken the brunt of many an accidental lashing out. She was young and powerful and that power was only growing.
Now, the was the crowned princess - with her own crown of course - and one of the most feared in all the realms. Her combat skill were unparalleled and any enemy she killed she could instantly resurrect and summon to their side. She was practically unstoppable in battle. And beyond.
As you said, she was used to getting her way.
Anywhere she was, you'd come looking and this time, she was looking forward to it. A slow, confident smirk stretched Hela's face as she heard your quick steps. Most people would think you were worried, but she knew you had a fast stride. You were, like her, going somewhere. She saw a flash of your clothing as you turned the corner and the tension leaked from your body. You were a bit worried.
She supposed it was only fair; she'd gotten better at hiding from you over the years, as a challenge for your mind to stay as keen as hers. And you rose on every occasion. Any challenge she had ever given you, you'd passed with flying colors. And you'd seen her grow, seen her lose control of her magic, held her as she cried, only a few years older than you. She had come to rely on you. She learned to depend on your footsteps always seeking her out at least once an hour. She loved the way you looked in your clothes and she'd adore seeing you in hers, or none at all.
Well, she was working on that. You were about to disappear again, allow her her solitude, so considerate.
Hela melted into the shadows she cast and appeared in yours, pinning you against the fountain Odin had built in the garden he'd given his new wife. She felt a bit of rage, knowing the woman was weakening her father, but looked up into your alarmed eyes and felt the world steady around her. She smiled, a sweet one reserved only for you and her father. "Forgive me, I was hoping you'd come. Waiting."
You were accustomed to Hela's emotions randomly surfacing, an undeniable side effect of so many wars, but she'd never told you a hope so personal. She had her monarchical wishes for the kingdom, and the other ones which would soon become her kingdom, and the cruel ones for those who ever harmed her or hers to flay alive and for eternity. To hear she hoped for you sparked your own foolish hope. You'd loved your princess since seeing her, learning to support her head, and you'd been in love with her since you were a teenager. Of course, she was your charge and your princess so nothing could arise so you did the best you could raising her after her mother's passing. She grew up loved, though cursed with the power of Death. "Apologies for the wait, my lady?" you guessed, unsure of how to respond.
That displeased her; you saw the disappointment in her eyes, but she still smiled. She raised one hand from your shoulder, the other still pinning you, and held your face. "Oh," she intoned, making your heart jump, "my sweet. My guardian." She stepped into you.
"My lady?" you echoed.
Hela's eyes seemed to glow as she stared down at you. She traced over every feature as if she might never see it again. "I command you to be honest for me."
Your gaze up into her own went lax at the use of 'for me'. You'd do anything for her and she knew it.
The goddess leaned down that last bit and kissed you. She released your shoulder, feeling you not relax because the bird fountain was two layered and that would hurt, but try to while kissing her back. Neither of you were very good, or experienced, but just the confirmation had Hela growling. She gripped your clothing and you felt it thin from the force, unweaving enough to snap if she yanked. "Yes?" she asked expectantly.
You nodded against her, unable to consider all of the reasons you'd tried to talk yourself out of loving her with all your life at that moment. You sought out her lips again, helpless.
She growled again, tearing your clothes and kissing you again before moving down. What she lacked in skill, she made up for in curiosity. Hela gripped your thighs, holding you up to sit on the lower level of the bird bath and explored your neck and chest. "If you wish for me to stop, you grab my hair. Otherwise, you will never do so." She dove back in.
You whined as she nibbled on your neck. You gasped when she traced her tongue down your collarbone. You arched as she sucked on your breast like a baby starving.
Her chilled fingers slipped down your front, tickling and earning more sounds but seeking a higher prize. She left you to sit on the first level of the unbreakable-stone-made fountain, squatting to hold your thighs apart. She was breathless as the visual you created, how soaked you were probably since she put her hands on you. She cleaned up your thigh for no other reason than to tease because they would get messy again. It helped that you made such sweet sounds. The first swipe of her tongue had you attempting to jerk away, but Hela had your thighs pinned to her.
You gripped the sides of the fountain easiest for you. She pulled you more securely against her, tongue dipping inside you, and your back lost some strength, as did one hand. You were quite dependent on the structure Hela had chosen for you, though you attempted to regain your grip. Your rings made small clicking sounds as you gripped the stone. Your back arched as Hela's wet tongue left your weeping hole, tracing upward. Your hips twisted in her grip as she found something better and you held both hands on the upper level of the fountain, desperate not to grab her hair. She couldn't stop- You were right- "Hela!" you squeaked, feeling the need to warn her.
She pulled back very suddenly, leaving you now cold and naked in the outside air. She flipped her hair over her shoulder with the flick of her head, stepping further back. "Kneel," she commanded in a suddenly very powerful tone. She rested one hand on her hip, donning the posture of a queen.
You were helpless to obey. Your ass and knees would bruise from how you fell but it was nothing to your devotion to Hela.
With a fond smile, she stepped back toward you. One hand found your hair. She held it in an iron grip, pulling you under the skirt the other had lifted. You almost vanished under it once you made contact with your princess' heat. She dropped the layers to hold one hand on your shoulder. You were even less experienced with this part than Hela, something that pleased her as much as it turned her on. Your sloppy attempts were sweet, but- her legs turned to jello when you slipped inside just as she had, but you brought fingers into the mix. Hela suddenly wished she'd warmed hers inside you. Her hand on your shoulder, the other holding your hair, she was as dependant on you as you'd been. It was a delight to hear her own moans, though muffled by her thighs and skirt. Your thumb applied pressure to her clit while your tongue stayed inside her, tasting her orgasm from the source. She was hot and pulsing around you and she very suddenly changed in your mouth.
Fluid flooded your tongue while Hela allowed more than the sex to wash over her. The blackness she used to form her crown was used for something quite different as her clit mutated out into a small, yet growing phallus. You were unfamiliar with male anatomy, only vying for the fairer, and pulled away.
Hela's skirt was pulled over your head again and she pulled back. "Unless you want to be on the fountain again, find a surface, my sweet." She relished how the nickname had a new, though not untrue, meaning. You backed away from the bird bath, and your princess who stalked toward you, and sat on the bench you and she had had many a conversation on. You'd never done this. Standing astride the bench, the future queen stared down at you, dark locks trailing over her shoulders. She was the royal and you were the prey, her prey, only hers. She held your abdomen very carefully, hands gripping where your ribs were. She could easily kill you like this, but instead turned you over.
You whimpered as her clothes melted as she did so. You wanted to see her. But you obediently put your hands on the stone, standing in front of your princess, presenting.
Hela took deep, hedonistic pleasure out of this and slowly lined up with your cunt. She wasn't as big as she could grow, but that would come. Instead, she made you feel good one inch at a time. The princess had taken many a-servants virginity to test the most pleasurable way to do this. You were so wet, you were practically dripping onto the ground while going down on her so she wasn't truly concerned. As she moved in, you let her, so slick she grew inside you, stretching you until you let out a shout. She moved back, then back in, at a slow pace to test it out. You moaned. She did it again, harder. Careful never to hurt you until you asked for it, she soon found herself jackhammering into you, listening to your drawn out moan.
"My sweet, my sweet, you feel- so good- wet, tight, fuck. Oh, my-" Hela could feel herself getting close and reached an arm around your waist to pulled you up against her, and back and against her and back and she rubbed your clit, listening to the vague begging run off into a slurred mess. "Mine," she growled into your idle ear.
You tried to fall against the bench as you came down, but she kept going, just as fast and you felt yourself get close again. "Yours. Shit- my queen!" you tried to warn, but instead just came, hard harder than before and you soaked Hela, the both of you in a haze of love and heat as she worked you both through the waves crashing.
Hela braced herself with a hand beside your head. She barely didn't fall on top of you and simple kissed your shoulder. She hummed. "I liked that queen bit," she admitted.
You huffed a laugh. "You always were," you mumbled in a lost voice.
The brunette royal looked down at her maid, her servant, her guide, coated with sweat, skin heaving. The woman always immaculate, always taking care of the future queen, limp beneath her. Hela supposed it was her turn to bathe and change you. She moved one leg around to stand on one side of the bench and she hauled you up into her arms, bridal style. Now there was a thought. You could bear her babies. You whimpered in surprise as you flew, then to be situated so firmly again her dressed state again. She abandoned your two halves of a dress and melted the two of you into the shadows, appearing in her chambers. Your chambers now.
(In which Ritsuka Fujimaru and Sir Bedivere fight against fate)
The wisest seers of Uther’s court witnessed the brightest blessing Britain could ever bestow upon that day.
Premonitions said the infant-king’s future was so bright that it didn’t merely shine, no, it burnt the path before, during and after him.
Such was the tale of Arthur, son of Uther, and the greatest ruler Britain had ever seen.
The aloof great mage, half-incubus Merlin, only nodded in acknowledgement the night Arthur was conceived. He knew far more about the nature of Arthur’s existence than the entire court. Merlin was Arthur’s first brother in arms after all. However, he was more like an absent father and, more suitably, a kingmaker.
That being said,
“By the heavens, Merlin! You must tell me at once how to revive Ritsuka!” The silver-handed knight dragged his hands through the pure mud in Avalon, with his heavy heart close to the ground, his weight pushing down the mage’s precious flowers in his garden.
“We mustn’t disturb what the node of fate has already decided,” he replied plainly. Too plain, for Sir Bedivere, who ought to lose the most important person in his life twice. Merlin thought to himself, maybe it’s time to tell the truth, finally.
“I might be the King’s mentor, but you walk beside the King—”
Bedivere cut him off.
“This is not about Arthur!” Merlin stared wide-eyed, but he knew this was already coming. The first cycle of his karmic debt had finished long ago when he defeated the Lion King in the Holy City. That was when Ritsuka Fujimaru came into the picture.
This damned tapestry of fate.
Merlin crouched to see the misery and love on Bedivere’s face clearly. This time it’s different, he reassured himself. The silver-haired knight loved Ritsuka, the person, not the fate intertwined in her very existence.
“Bedivere.”
“You don’t dare console me with your feigned wisdom!”
“Dear knight—!” Merlin stomped his staff sharply, commanding attention. His Mage of Flowers' authority pierced through Bedivere’s stubbornness. Bedivere lifted his head, accepting whatever prophetic knowledge Merlin was about to tell him now, out of all times when Ritsuka was dying in the living realm.
“Ritsuka is Arthur.”
The revelation hits him like a mountain boulder. He shook, coughed, and spat blood; his soul almost left his flesh, but Merlin stopped it. It’s not his time yet.
“Pull yourself together!” he said, hitting him with his staff. This is not the aloof Merlin; this is Britain’s most ever-so-powerful Merlin, who fought beside the Round Table for the King’s glory. Discipline is absolute. Bedivere rolled over meekly; it disgusted him to see his steel of honour remaining in specks.
With all of his restraint, he pulled Bedivere by his tunic, continuing despite his poor condition.
“Ritsuka is a shard of Arthur. You mustn’t falter, Bedivere. Have you lost all of your proud chivalry when it comes to someone you love?” Ritsuka is Merlin’s Master too, but he doesn’t have a say in her fate. He is questioning the Heavens if Bedivere’s only purpose in life is to bear witness to unending legends.
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Bedivere is cowering, blaming himself. Fate has a sick sense of humour. He cannot interfere as he did the last time. No, why did he interfere back then? If he hasn’t, he would still have his optimism to save what is actually his. He doesn’t need to know what the aftermath or the world-breaking effects of fighting destiny this time are. He would go headfirst. It is about his heart and humanity, not his flesh and honour.
“Burn me, and not her,”
Merlin scowled, “You do realise!—”
“But I love her!” he started pleading, brushing his metal gauntlets together, one stained with Ritsuka’s blood. She was unconscious, sleeping with grace in Chaldea’s emergency room, when Bedivere called upon Merlin desperately. It had tested Merlin’s nerves then to see someone fighting fate, but he gave Bedivere a chance to plead.
Merlin, the so-called enemy of humanity, couldn't help but to feel something hearing such a pitiful confession from the knight. He had all the knowledge in the world, but he lacked a human heart. And with it comes such human sacrifice.
Not once. But twice. Stupid, selfless Bedivere is willing to wreck the concept of time-space itself just to save an average mage of the modern-day, Ritsuka Fujimaru.
Why is that?
“You granted my wish to repent my sin towards the King before, why not again?” Bedivere started to become arrogant with his wishes. Merlin snorted, foolish human. Your legend has ended!
He struck Bedivere with his staff, but Bedivere didn’t move a single inch. There it is, a nostalgic, familiar view from their time. Sir Bedivere was the most loyal knight Arthur had ever allowed to join him. To everyone in the Round Table, Bedivere and Arthur should remain together forever, as he was the firm boulder to Arthur’s Caliburn, steady like the rocks in the lakes.
That was Sir Bedivere, from his memories. Sir Bedivere, the Servant, however, had become noticeably softer and more human than he had ever been during his lifetime. He smiled, laughed, and cried more. Ritsuka Fujimaru’s brilliance had shown him the way to become a human. Bedivere was just naturally drawn to the brightest light in the room.
Merlin let out a sigh.
“She must bear her own fate. Not even true love from the most noble knight can save her.”
“In fact, it’s not about saving at all, Bedivere.”
Merlin turned his back on him, his long, draping cape marking the distance between them. At the very least, he would allow Bedivere to witness the truth.
“When Arthur was born, fate was already predetermined for this entire world. The sheer blessings of his birth left an imprint, and the remainder of his soul polished the future generations with the shards of him.”
“It would be simpler for both of you if she were merely the reincarnation of Arthur. But Alaya has willed the world to preserve his light in fragments, for the sake of all humanity. He is the saviour, after all. Even Ritsuka doesn’t know she carries the same fate as our King. Let it be. Let fate flow its light as it must, Bedivere.”
Merlin met Bedivere’s eyes again.
“Even I don’t enjoy hosting,” he meant Avalon. The place where the givers receive, and the fighters rest.
“I know what it costs to reach here.”
“And I’m certain that I shall have you both in the future,” he said with an enigmatic smile. Bedivere doesn’t grasp his meaning yet. But it doesn’t matter. Some thoughts are meant to be pondered for a long time, Merlin grinned.
The path of the Sun’s rays may be carved in a detailed, determined, and absolute way.
It may kill, if it is too hot. It might be burdened if it is too virtuous. It is definitely lonely to be the brightest.
But for every light that shone on Earth, there is a ground that steadies and thus reflects its blessings for both of them.
Ritsuka Fujimaru and Sir Bedivere.
They are soulmates, yes, but they are also Earth’s sealant and protector.
May the Light guide us all.
And in a blossoming field of flowers, the Eternal Garden, the resting place for the purest of humans, a redheaded girl in a simple white dress waits patiently for her end.
Waiting is the most painful thing she has ever known. It cannot compare to the beasts, the Alien Gods she battled in her lifetime. Nothing ever compares.
Until the gate opens, and she looks for a shadow of him, even a fleeting memory of him will suffice.
And then she sees him.
It’s him.
It’s truly him.
Tears of relief and joy spill as she runs across the flowers, throwing herself into his embrace.
Hi! I'm the Anon from a week back that asked for a continuation of #1280 I was careless and didn't realize you weren't taking requests, it's completely my fault, I'm really sorry for being so rude!
Since you've opened requests now though, is it alright if I asked for #1280 again?
Request #48
I was actually planning on making a part 2 for this one anyway, so no need to worry! We good and apology accepted! 👍
Part 1 | Masterpost
~~~~
With a trembling hand, the human opened the door and stepped inside. Soft carpet greeted their feet on the other side as the door shut behind them with a quiet click. Nervous, they kept their gaze on the ground.
“Ah, you’re finally here, my dear,” an echoey voice said from the other end of the room. The sound alone had the human curiously peeking up, but they dared not look further than just the edge of their Master’s being.
Shadowy tendrils lazily moved about, one motioning for them to approach. “Come closer, little darling. Don’t be afraid.”
The human obeyed with hesitant steps, growing more nervous with each one. They stopped just before their god and kneeled down. Too frightened to look up, a gentle hand cupped their cheek, and their Master asked, “Can you look at me, dear?”
Shivers crawled down the human’s spine at the idea, but they steeled themself regardless, and did as asked. A soft breath hitched in their throat, their wide eyes meeting the piercing, snow-white gaze of their god.
Their Master’s eyes were like a pair of twinkling stars, drawing the human in with their beauty. They could feel the edges of their mind growing fuzzy the longer they stared, making their anxiety pick up enough to free them from the trance.
They sat back with a gasp and blinked rapidly, clearing their eyes of tears. The god let them go and hummed quietly, praising, “Not bad, my dear. You only got lost for fifteen minutes.”
The human looked at them in shock before whipping their gaze back down, making the god chuckle and continue, “The one before you got lost for nearly two hours. You have quite a strong will.”
The praise had the human feeling warm as they shyly asked, “I do…?”
“Oh, yes.” The god nodded, not that they could really see it. “Mortals naturally crave to admire me the same way they do the night sky. However, most become lost for hours in my darkness, unable to stop themselves. So, I am most impressed with you, little darling.”
“T-Thank you, Master,” they stuttered. “I’ve heard that… it gets easier over time?”
“It does, yes,” the god confirmed. “But I could help speed up the process, too.”
The human carefully looked up. “How?”
Their Master smiled. “Lay your head in my lap; look at me. If you indulge that craving, it will become easier to ignore afterward.”
The human looked unsure for multiple reasons. They felt a slight blush creep up their face as they lay down, tense and flustered, but chose to trust their god.
Shadowy hands trailed over their scalp and shoulders once they settled, firmly but carefully massaging to help them relax. And with a deep breath, Human looked into their Master’s eyes once more.
The human slowly lost themself in the god’s gaze, letting it overtake their attention. They felt like they were drifting down a gentle river, their hands wading through the cool water with lazy movements. And once they came to, they found themself tracing the god’s face.
The tips of their fingers glided through the god’s wispy form until the human realized what they were doing and quickly withdrew their arms. “A-Ah! I’m sorry, Master!” they apologized, stressed that they had crossed a line.
“Don’t be,” their Master reassured, gently scratching their scalp. “I found it quite pleasant.”
The human could only nod, growing flustered once more as they remembered the position they were in. “May I know how long it's been, Master?”
“An hour.” The god scratched at the base of their skull, drawing a few pleasant shivers from them. “You did very well, my darling.”
Human looked away at the praise, unsure how to handle it.
The god grinned at their shyness, finding it cute. “Now tell me, darling, are you hungry?”
The king appoints Vox to be Ike’s new butler so he could protect the prince from any form of danger, Little did he know that the biggest danger of all was none other than Vox Akuma himself.
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