#and since i can't really mask my version of masking is just not talking and then obviously you don’t find any joy in fandom spaces either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

exhaslo · 5 months

Note

What about Miguel with Fem!Reader who is Spider-Man's biggest cheerleader? It can be where she was a civilian that he saved once who became like his biggest fan. She has all the merch and stuff of him. Of course she dosn't know his identity but she dosn't care. He dose no wrong in her eyes, also cheering for him and squealing and fangirling when she sees him.

I imagine that if they ever have sex together she's just talking and disbelief and how she can't believe that this is happening to her and how shes dreamed of this. Miguel ends up having to cover her mouth to get her to be quite, but he secretly really likes his little fangirl gushing all over him in more was than one.

Ohhhh, you know what would be even spicer??? If Miguel was secretly a Yandere! Hope you'll like the little addition to your request~

Warning: Smut, MINORS DNI, rough sex, bondage, possessive, masturbation

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

This obsession started a few months ago. You were on your way to work when the futurist version of the HobGoblin started to attack the city. You were running down the street, trying to find shelter when a building was destroyed above you. Just when you thought your life was over, Spiderman came and saved you.

Since then, you would fight when it came to anything involving Spiderman. He was your savior, your hero, your everything. You fell head over heels for the masked man, wanting to make sure people understood that he was a hero.

You couldn't get enough of him. Soon, you started to collect anything on Spiderman. You wanted to worship him. You grabbed anything you saw. Shirts, plushes, toys, hell, you even started to buy artwork and pins from people. You just wanted to be close to him. By any means necessary.

Getting yourself ready, you had decided to join a small parade in the lower half of Nueva York. It wasn't as safe or clean as the above half, but hell, they were throwing a hell of a party. The people in the lower half were obsessed with super heros.

Once you got there, you were in love. The amount of the Spiderman merch had you in heaven. You bought everything and went into the crowd, looking around for your hero.

"Kya!!! Spiderman! I love you!" You cheered as you saw the masked man, swing around.

---------

Miguel thought it would be funny to just stop by and see the parade. He was uncomfortable with everyone in the lower half worshiping him as a God or a messenger of Thor. It was all a mess. As he swung around, Miguel stopped as he heard you.

He landed against a building, watching you cheer and wave towards him. His eyes widen as he waved back, causing you to jump and squeal in response. You were fangirling over him. Just like that, Miguel ate his words. This was something he could get used too.

More like, he could get used to you.

Claiming that you love someone is a big deal. Miguel wanted to test you. He left soon after, already thinking of your dedication. Miguel had been looking for someone. Perhaps he had been waiting just for you. For you to be his good girl and listened to every word he said.

Someone just for him.

---------

You were humming happily to yourself as you walked down the streets of Nueva York. It was your day off and you were hoping to catch a glimpse of Spiderman swinging around. It was a fun pass time for you.

"The Public Eye will catch him one of these days! That menace, Spiderman, can't keep breaking the law forever!" A stranger barked. You gripped your coffee,

"He's not a menace! He's a hero! You're just jealous that you can't do anything that he could!" You barked.

"You're just another fangirl!"

"You'll change your mind when you're in trouble!" You huffed.

Storming away, you threw away your coffee in anger. Some people just had no idea of how Spiderman really was. He was a hero! There was nothing he did that was wrong!

"I suppose I should be thanking my fans," Spiderman said. You squeaked, looking up into the alleyway,

"S-Spi-Spiderman! Ohmygoshohmygosh! It's you!!" You squealed happily.

Miguel smiled at your excitement. He webbed your lips and motioned you to follow him into the dark alley. You happily followed. Miguel inhaled deeply, enjoying your behavior. He could see the sparkles in your eyes as you happily jumped in place.

"When I take the webbing off your mouth, I want you to tell me your name and where you work, okay?"

You nodded. Miguel smiled as he casually stroked your cheek, slowly taking the webbing off. He could see the love in your eyes. You truly were head over heels for him. How delicious.

"(Y/N), I work at a corporate office for retail clothes."

"Interesting." Miguel observed you, "You know, I take things quite seriously, (Y/N). So, when I hear the words, 'I love you', come out of your mouth, it drives me to want to test that."

"I do! I do love you! I'll do anything to prove it!"

"Then have sex with me-"

"Yes."

Miguel held back a laugh by how quick you agreed. He wrapped his arm around your waist and asked for your address. He wasn't going to take you to his place, yet. He wanted to see what made you tick. He wanted to make sure that you were dedicated to him.

You on the other hand, were squealing mentally and physically. You were in Spiderman's arms, swinging to your place. The thought of fucking him had not even crossed your mind yet. You were living in the moment and right now, you were in HIS ARMS.

Once you arrived at your place, you begged Spiderman to wait before entering. You had to clean up your mess of clothes on the floor. You whined, throwing them all in a basket and double checking your room to make sure that it was safe.

"You really are a fan," Miguel whispered, looking around at your collection of him. He paused, seeing a body pillow of him, "How-"

"I paid someone." Was all you said and moved it aside. Miguel turned to you, smiling under his mask,

"So, I assume you fuck yourself to it, huh?"

You tensed, facing Spiderman and slowly nodded. Okay, now you were recalling that you agreed to have sex with him. Your cheeks started to burn as you glanced at his muscular body. The body of a god, basically.

"Get on the bed and show me what you do to yourself," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You complied. Crawling on your bed, you stripped yourself of your clothes and spread your legs. Spiderman was about to watch you masturbate. This was making you wet. A shudder escaped your lips as you rubbed your clit, imaging what Spiderman was going to do to you.

Miguel on the other hand was watching with amusement. You listened to every command he's given. You were being such a good girl for him. Touching yourself so naughty with him watching. You were just so desperate for him.

"Would you let me do anything to you?" He asked, slowing crawling on the bed as you started to moan and squirm.

"Y-Yes!"

"Even fuck you into being mine?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out, reaching your orgasm.

Miguel resisted a groan as he raised his mask slightly, licking your fingers in the process. You were doing such a good job tempting him. He was going to enjoy having you to call his.

"Don't tell me you're tired after just that?" Miguel webbed your hands to your bed post, "I'm going to make sure you don't think of anything else but me."

"Of course!"

Miguel just chuckled in response as he showed you his erection. Your eyes widen as you started to freak out. This was actually happening! You were actually about to have sex with Spiderman.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, this is happening!" You squealed.

Miguel glanced at you as he slowly inserted his dick inside your folds. You were totally fangirling and geeking out. He smirked as he webbed your mouth, listening to your muffled moans. Miguel lowered his mask, wanting to hide his smile.

He watched your eyes roll back, moaning as he shoved his dick fully inside you. Your body arching in pleasure as he started to ravish you. Such a delicious face you were making. You were giving your whole body to him.

"You're sucking me in so much, you truly must love me." Miguel smirked.

Miguel held your hips tightly, listening to your muffled voice. He could get used to this. Your muffle cries and moans as he destroyed your pussy. You said you loved him. There was no taking that back now.

"If you truly love me, you'd let me have my way with you, right?"

You nodded, moaning into his webs as you felt yourself about to burst in pleasure again. Spiderman was being so rough with you. It was like you were his fuck doll, and you were loving every minute of it. His dick was so big and filling. You were going to lose count with how many times you cam.

Gasping, you felt like you saw stars as he pressed you into mating position. His hips slamming into yours as you felt him cum inside you. The stamina this man had for fucking you while cumming. You flung your head back, still in disbelief.

What if you got pregnant with Spiderman's babies? Nearly squealing at the thought, you spread your legs out more, moving your hips to his. This had to be a dream. Being fucked so good by Spiderman. Oh, you were dreaming well!

"Good girl, you love my dick, don't you? You want me to keep cumming inside your tight little pussy, right?" Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting rougher.

"Mhpm~" You nodded violently, feeling the urge to cum again.

Miguel hummed as he rubbed your clit, watching a white ring form at the base of his dick. Your pussy was still so tight and wet, just for him. You were going to a great stress reliever. Miguel was going to keep you for himself.

The best part? There wasn't much he had to do to convince you otherwise. You were just as obsessed with him as he was with you. Groaning lowly as he gave you another load of him, Miguel decided to remove the webbing from your mouth.

"You'll do whatever I say, right?" He asked lowly.

"Mhm~" You nodded, trembling slightly. Miguel stroked your cheek, smirking at your fucked out expression,

"Good. Quit your job. I'll be taking care of you from now on."

"Y-Yes," You gasped as he started to thrust into you again, "I-I'll quit! I'll quit for you!" You moaned.

"And block everyone on your phone. You're only going to need me from now on."

"Y-Yes!"

Oh this was too easy. Miguel was enjoying this far too much. You were the only one who was listening to every command he made. How delicious. Pressing himself against you more, Miguel paid close attention to your blissed out expression.

"Who do you belong to now?"

"Y-You! Spiderman!" You cried out, reaching another mind blowing orgasm.

"Mine."

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

Hope you enjoyed~

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

806 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 8 months

Note

hi! I love the way you write. could you do something in which peter thinks he has no chance with reader as himself so he flirts with her as spiderman but eventually she finds out

*cleaning out my inbox*

sitting in a lawn chair on the roof of your building, spider-man sitting on the ledge, swinging his legs as he spoke, you listened to his rambling about an old woman he helped today.

it's been the dozenth time you've met up and talked, caught by him one afternoon when you were hiding away. you'd been healthy friends since, mostly surface value and mostly him venting, but this time was different.

spider-man didn't get personal, and you understood why, but since he didn't, you didn't. spider-man is talking animatedly but all you can think about is peter parker, sometimes life just wasn't fair.

you were caught when you didn't laugh with him at a joke, he tilted his head, 'you're quiet today, you doin' alright?'

you shrug, you feel emotionally numb.

'stuff at school, it's dumb. everything is dumb.'

spider-man adjusts himself, 'wanna talk about it?'

'i don't know, have you...' you pause to collect your thoughts, clearing your throat you start again. 'have you ever tried to make a move on someone but, like, telepathically?'

'uhhh...'

'ugh, i don't know. like, hey, if i stare at you enough and say 'ask me out' on a loop in my head, they'll catch the hint and do it.'

spider-man thinks about it, 'i think my version of that would be hey, if i avoid eye contact and pretend you don't exist, maybe you'll get a crush on me and ask me out, or avoid me forever. i'm okay with either.'

you laugh, you feel like he opened up to you, and he's the city's hero, maybe you can open up too.

'well, mine's name is peter parker and i'm pretty sure he has no idea i exist. i mean, not that i've actually tried to talk to him before, because he seems very nice but he also makes me super nervous and i think i would lose all ability to speak.'

spider-man has wide eyes, 'so, yeah. i guess when he didn't notice me for the millionth time today it clicked that the ship has sailed and i have to move on. shit sucks, dude.'

'no! no, no, no, you can't give up! he likes you too! i mean, what if he likes you too?'

'he doesn't know i exist, it's fine.'

'he knows you exist! i'd put money on the line he was doing that thing where he pretends you don't exist because he thought he had no chance or knew he'd fumble the bag so he deemed asking you out worthless!'

your eyes narrowed, 'i'm worthless?'

spider-man clutched the sides of his mask, his voice coming out squeaky. 'you're such a girl! you only hear one thing!'

'you called me worthless.'

'no, i said that i thought i had no chance and embarrassing myself just to get rejected would be a terrible waste of my time.'

you should be more focused on his switch from third to first point of view, but you crossed your arms instead.

'so... i'm a waste of time?'

spider-man groans, it's dramatic. in one motion in tugs his mask off and peter parker revealed.

'you're not a waste of time,' he gestures between yourselves, hinting at all the hours you've spent together, 'obviously.'

'and i'd really, really like to take you on a date.'

you hum, 'is this the part where i avoid you forever?'

a shy smile, 'i hope not.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker fluff #my writing

540 notes · View notes

thmles · 10 months

Text

| You're Losing Me. (2)

- I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore.

[pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-person!reader]

[warnings: sweet to angst, mentions of physical fight, blood, bruises, mention of deaths]

[a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i've tried to write these past few days but never really finished writing this but i was feeling a lil sad tonight so i managed to focus my motivation on writing this! i also went through some theories on reddit and twitter about miguel's canon theory bc i honestly question it?? anyway i hope i did the first 'you're losing me' fic justice with this, since i tried my best writing this. hope y'all enjoy 🫶🏻]

You were smart enough to leave the watch that was issued to every member of the Spider Society at your apartment. Miguel had been tracking your location only to see ‘you’ in your apartment. He blocked you from creating portals and tracking the location of him, Jess, and Ben. It was for your own good, anyway. He was looming over Brooklyn on a rooftop as rain lightly poured over the city. He looks down at his hand, the very same you returned your promise ring he had given you a year prior. Miguel figured that he’d talk to you after he brings in Miles, that he’ll try to make you understand his side. Miles was a kid, he doesn’t know better. He doesn’t understand how astronomical the consequence of letting his father live. With the help of his suit, Miguel is able to store the ring on the right side of his hip. The hunt for Miles had just begun.

You on the other hand managed to get to Gwen’s dimension. A somehow colorful yet gloomy version of Brooklyn. With a few taps on your (much better) watch, you located the apartment complex where Gwen lives. The watch even gave you the exact number of their apartment. Brooklyn was glowing in the dark of the night as you swung through the city. It reminded you of your Brooklyn. A beautiful city that never sleeps.

You approached the rooftop of the apartment and gracefully landed on it. After a quick change (which really just consisted of you taking off your mask and slipping on a jacket you managed to grab before you left your apartment), you slowly descended the stairs from the rooftop to their apartment.

A knock on the door pulled Gwen’s and his father’s attention. It was a long time coming, talking about their feelings, the truth, and being Spider-Woman. “Captain Stacy? I’m uh, a friend of Gwen,” The voice called out. Gwen smiled knowingly at her dad as he stared back at her in confusion. “She said she’s coming back home today and she left something in my house.” The voice continued.

Gwen let out a laugh and quickly opened the door before her dad could do it.

“You came.” Gwen beamed at you. You returned a smile and pulled her in a hug.

“You really think I’d leave you by yourself?” You mumbled in her ear.

She hugged you tighter before pulling away. Her dad looked surprised as Gwen seemed to forget she was in her Spider-Woman attire. Gwen looked between you and her father before exclaiming, “Oh, dad! This is my friend! They have been uhm, a really good friend of mine!” Her dad motioned at her attire. Gwen laughed as you waved at her dad. “Don’t worry, dad. They know.”

After a quick goodbye, you gave Gwen the watch you had made similar to the ones issued by the Spider Society. After a few dimension hopping, you managed to assemble a team of Spider-People who hoped to help Miles as Gwen looked for the latter. Gwen detected that Miguel, Jess, and Ben were at Earth-1610 to search for Miles but Miles wasn’t in the dimension. After a quick talk with the team (consisting of Margo, Spider-Noir, Peni, Pav, Peter B. and Mayday, Peter Porker, and Hobie) you were quick to realize that Miles was sent to Earth-42. The group agreed that they should rendezvous with Gwen, but were reluctant at your decision to go to Earth-1610 as a distraction for Miguel.

“What do you think Miguel’s going to say after seeing you’re going against him?” Peter B. asks as you both stand before a portal to Earth-1610. The night sky was cold and you were jealous of Peter’s robe. Your eyes softened as you looked at Mayday looking up at you curiously. You booped her nose and it made her giggle.

“Well, I’m about to find out.”

It wasn’t hard to find Miguel. Looming across Miles’ house, scanning if Miles made it home. Silently landing behind him, your heart ached as you stared at his back. It doesn’t even feel like it’s your Miguel anymore. It’s almost as if he’s out of your reach, that no matter what you’ll say will go right through him.

Shakily you called out, “You know he’s not here.” You approached him slowly until there was a reasonable distance between the two of you. The rain pattered on your body as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. You were shaking from nervousness, sadness, and the cold rain.

“I know. I was waiting for you.” Miguel turned to face you. His mask came off, his eyes bore into yours and you swear you could feel your heart drop to your stomach. You took your mask off and threw it in front of him. He looked at your discarded mask before looking at you in confusion.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way, Miguel.” Your voice softly said, getting in a fighting stance. You knew you had to help Miles. You would do anything to help if it were anyone in that situation. You owe it to your own father to help save everyone, to help save someone’s father. Growing up without one was one of the hardest things you ever went through. You didn’t want that for anyone else.

“So, you’re ending everything we went through for a kid?” He scoffed as he approached you, You were quick to back up to maintain the distance you guys had.

“Miguel, that is the point! He is just a kid!” You exclaimed. Miguel rolled his eyes and replied, “A kid who knows nothing about the damage he is causing!”

“It was your fault! You didn’t have to create the Spider-Society or replace someone’s identity! Isn’t that the very reason that universe collapsed!?” You yelled, leaning towards him as he looked at you in shock. “That you willingly replaced someone, and continued to do so? That your actions were the very reason that everyone died in that universe?” Miguel could only look at you as his eyes turned scarlet. You knew he was seething with anger.

“And that you, Jess, and Ben, of all people,” You scoffed as you glared at him. “Have the nerve to tell Miles that he doesn’t belong. When the three of you were never bit, right?” You finished. “Oh and your ‘canon theory’ is bullshit. What if that Spider-Person isn’t close to a police captain or doesn’t have an uncle who needs to die? What then?” Honestly, you were shocked at how much you had told him. Truth be told, the things you said were things you kept to yourself for months.

Miguel didn’t know what to say, but he knew you were right. His supposed theory was only based off of most Spider-People, but it doesn’t guarantee that those events happen to every single one. To him, it felt like an attack on him and his ego. That you questioned his every move despite those actions were done to protect you. Because he can’t risk losing you.

The next thing you knew, Miguel launched at you. Thankfully, you had your ‘spidey-senses’ and were quick to dodge him. Before you knew Miguel would rather die than hurt you himself. But when he saw your bruised and bloodied body on the rooftop, he finally realized that he let the anger get the best of him.

“You lost me, Miguel.” Those were your final words before you slipped into unconsciousness. He brought you back to the Spider-Society to get you proper medical attention before he had to leave to hunt Miles. Miguel took your left hand and slipped on the promise ring on your ring finger. He gave the back of your hand a kiss.

“I hope you forgive me, mi amor. I’m sorry.”

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miles morales x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara angst #into the spider verse

487 notes · View notes

butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 2 years

Text

I was talking to a client today about "how to identify masking" as part of the process of learning how to shift masking from a reflexive coping strategy to a voluntary and conscious one and I feel like it led to a really important shift in framework FOR ME about masking and social distress.

Paraphrasing, the ideas we came to are as follows:

One of the reasons masking can be so difficult to recognize is because, essentially, masking is the act of performing "yourself" as a mirror for the other person you are interacting with. It's this idea of "I will micro-manage my own mood, affect, behavior, mannerisms, and environment in order to reflect back to you whatever version of "self" you need from me because if I don't there will be consequences". So because masking is essentially performing "mirroring" as selfhood by amplifying or minimizing aspects of yourself based on what you think the other person wants to see in you, it varies significantly from one context to another. The major commonality is that it takes up an INCREDIBLE amount of energy, mental and emotional resources, cognitive processing power, etc. So you don't identify masking by specific behaviors so much as by the feeling of "having a significant amount of your mental/emotional resources be occupied by the act of social interaction" to the point that it doesn't leave enough left-over for other cognitive tasks, or leaves you feeling exhausted and worn out, or basically by the impact that masking has on you during and after.

In this framework, part of why we get so anxious about new or unfamiliar people or situations is because we don't know how to mask in that context yet, and so until we get there and figure it out, we're basically just terrified of what could go wrong since we don't know what we're walking into.*

*This is the underlying framework of anticipatory and obsessive anxiety as well. Anticipatory and obsessive anxiety functions as the mechanism by which we conduct both predictive reasoning-basd advance planning and review/self-correctionof our mental predictive model.

Autistic aversion to uncertainty has a lot to do with our need to be able to use predictive reasoning-based advance planning to cope with "social deficits" aka how much harder it is for us to interpret subtextual/nonverbal cues, learn/meet social expectations, and work through/around disordered sensory processing. That predictive reasoning requires us to be familiar, in advance, with the stable constant factors that influence decision making in social contexts. If we aren't familiar with the constant variables than we can't plan, if we can't plan than we are more likely to make noticeable social mis-steps, and if we take notable social mis-steps there are consequences. It becomes necessary for us to be hypervigilent to observable patterns in other people's behavior in order to try to reverse engineer the social interaction playbook on the fly. That ends up making us more likely to assume personal responsibility for predicting and managing the emotional regulatory needs of people around us at all costs, replicating the behavioral/cognitive impacts of chronic traumatic stress due to the activation of our sympathetic nervous system from chronic hypervigilence.

Essentially, masking is a cognitive defense mechanism to severe and/or persistant traumatic interpersonal stressors. As the neurological impacts of chronic traumatic stress heal, we mask less frequently. But in order to heal from chronic traumatic stress, the human brain requires a safe environment that does not trigger a retraumatization episode or replicate feelings of helplessness/fear for safety. In other words, reducing/terminating masking safely requires us as autistic people to have consistent access to social environments in which we are able to utilize autistic interpersonal boundaries without fear of consequence or chonically unmet need. This requires the people around us to be able to respect not only autistic interpersonal boundaries, but also autistic self-expression/advocacy modalities and mediums.

I feel like a lot of the pieces of this framework have been rattling around in my head for a while but the flavor of words hit just right today and all the connections snapped into place.

Anyway, I'm still sort of sorting through the clinical implications of this framework but I think it's a direction I want to keep exploring for sure.

#i love my ASD client sessions it's so fucking MAGICAL how much those clients are thriving as we work together #like I don't know how to describe how well therapy goes when the client and clincian are speaking the same language it's really cool #anyway I feel like this is going to be part of how I assert the validity of my new modality because hot damn does it sync up perfectly #this framework so perfectly outlines the logical justification for the modality's clinical foundations #which will be really helpful in asserting the extant body of literature/evidence base for those clinical foundations as relevant #i need to update the files for my thesiiiiiiiiiiiiiis #actuallyautistic

2K notes · View notes

hiraya-rawr · 11 months

Text

so i betrayed you, my love– (2/5)

Xiao Version || Childe Version || Thoma Version || Gorou Version || Ayato Version

synopsis !! Part 2 of “You Were The Enemy All Along” featuring the aftermath of betrayal and confrontation, with more depth to their stories! (Part 1 of each character was also included to make reading convenient.)

contains !! some character lore spoilers / a little violence / dialogue heavy in some scenes / reconciliation but also complicated relationships mending together / cameos of other characters! / might be easier to understand if you knew the lore of the characters

notes !! This was commissioned by the wonderful @mh8 who allowed this to be posted in public for everyone to enjoy! and honestly childe scares me to write bc I've barely written anything for him but I tried to bring out his charm? idk 😭

CHILDE

wc !! 2.4k

The noisiest of them all. He doesn't understand at first, tries to deny it by making jokes. The prank is up, what are you still doing? It's only when your betrayal becomes painfully obvious does he allow himself to laugh. It's ironic to be surprised coming from his line of work. He should really be used to these things.

"If you're this desperate for a fight, you could have just said so," He laughs, "Though, I warn you comrade, I won't hold back this time." It's so easy to drown in the adrenaline of battle and if he doesn't think hard enough, it feels no different than any of your usual spars together. There's a battle crazed look in his eyes at the thought of not holding back with you, but it's odd how numb he feels as Foul Legacy takes over.

Whether or not he wins the fight, the result remains the same; with him lying in the middle of the battlefield, mask still on, staring blankly upwards. He thinks of the abyss he fell into as a child, and briefly wonders when did it all go wrong.

— Before Him

You sighed in relief, a long day of training was finally coming to an end. Dottore was not an easy harbinger to be a rookie under; aside from the harsh training requirements of a Fatui Agent, you also had to deal with a lunatic scientist for a mentor. You were lucky enough to have the doctor more distracted on conducting his experiments rather than training fresh meat like you.

You leaned against a wall. You were in an isolated, snowy village, a mile away from the nearest Fatui training ground. It existed quietly, the villagers were as cold as Snezhnaya in that barren wasteland. You knocked twice on the concrete behind you, then an additional four times, then once more.

“Agent (Name), report.” A voice muffles from behind the wall, a figure you can't see.

“Pulcinella adopted a strange boy. . . He's coded as Childe. They say he fell into the abyss. He's quite strong, we've only sparred once but I know there's something off with him.”

“Hmm. A peculiar new recruit. I've heard from the other agents.” Muttered the figure of the shadows. He doesn't talk much. You know it's to keep identities hidden and to avoid letting you know too much lest you get caught and the information forced out of you (and believe me, the information will be forced out of you).

“You think he could rise in the ranks? Perhaps become a general or diplomat?” You question quietly.

“I think he could be the next Harbinger.”

A sharp intake of breath, surprised. A Harbinger. The next and possibly youngest one after so long.

“Continue your work. Do what you believe is best for our organization. Leave any files you found useful under the gap.” Were his last orders before hearing the footsteps walk away. Work was never easy; you dealt with loneliness most of the time. The only comfort was when an ill-reputed plan of the Fatui failed, knowing it was only possible through your contributions and warnings. For every plan you thwarted was a step closer to revealing your identity and getting killed for it.

Yes, you're prepared. You've been preparing for it ever since you joined the Fatui.

With a sigh, you went back to the training grounds.

— With Him

There’s a reason why Diluc Ragnvindr survived the hunt by the Harbingers when he sought out revenge in Snezhnaya. That should have been the first red flag for Childe. You were transferred early under his platoon, just when he was solidifying his position as a Harbinger. You were the subordinate he sent out to represent the 11th and, having the approval of Dottore (The old geezer, what a wack. Should he really be trusting a mad scientist? Childe questions this everyday) he trusted you enough to do your job.

Yet, the winery-heir-slash-fatui-serial-murderer escaped Snezhnaya with the help of those damned underground pests they've been trying to get rid of. Honestly, Childe could care less about the guy— if anything, he was immensely excited to try and pick a fight with him! But it still hurt his pride that one of his early missions as a Harbinger didn't turn out well. He needed to prove himself to the Tsaritsa after all! If not to at least make Pulcinella proud.

Going back to you.

It was always him and you; you and him ever since you transferred; sparring blade against blade. It was easy to get along when you were one of the only trainees close to his age, even easier when you managed to keep up with him in everything, bloodlust and all.

You were his match and he was yours, or so he believed.

“Say, why did Dottore transfer you anyway? Did you get kicked out, pissed him off somehow?” Childe once asked, boots scraping the ground as he dodges an attack from you flawlessly. Despite Dottore’s rather crazed way of managing his platoon, agents were given a handful of benefits for being under a high ranking Harbinger with a budget larger than the others (Experiments don't pay themselves, you know!).

You huff, a little tired from the onslaught of keeping him entertained in battle, “No, didn't he tell you? I requested for transfer.”

“Oh really? What, did the good looks of a new Harbinger catch your eye?” He teases, going on the offensive once more as he sprints to slash his blade. You block it with yours, trying to push him back with force. When he does pull back, getting pushed a few meters away as hir boots skid on snow, you scoff.

“Good looks? If that were the case, I would have transferred to–”

He immediately sprints ahead again, blade nearly catching you off guard as you block the attack.

“Aww come-” Slash. Block. “-on! Don't tell me you're not-” Kick. Jump. “-even a little bit enraptured by-” Hit. Block. “-me?” He huffs heavily, finally catching your eye as your blade stays on his, pushing each other back with all your strength.

“Hmp. Must you be so arrogant?” You strain out, matching his force before– “Maybe. . . maybe just a little bit.” You avert your gaze at the very moment he catches sunlight in your eyes. Childe pauses, his grip on the blade loosens momentarily at your admittance. You take the chance— kicking his stomach back with force as he skids across the training ground, the sword clattering on the ground.

“Does this mean I won?” You giggle, your weapon still in your hand as he looks at you from where he crouches, a smile on your face.

Maybe it's the butterflies that erupted in his stomach, but he laughs out loud. Childe wonders to himself; Is this the thrill of battle? Or something else? You tilt your head in confusion.

“As if! I haven't even gone all out yet!” He yells enthusiastically, “Agent (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)”

Your smile tenses. Your heart beats. Pensively, you also wonder to yourself; Is this the success of a mission? Or . . . something else?

— After Him .

You should've known.

You should've known, you should've known, you should've known that the Fatui would never have let a betrayal such as yours go so easily. The past few months after him was spent laying low, hiding from daylight and any chance that you could be recognized. A large bounty was on your head and the Fatui weren't cheap by any means. The organization shielded you as much as they could but even you had missions you had to continue fulfilling. You’d gladly risk your life for the better good; after all, if you didn't, you wouldn't have went undercover in the Fatui anyway.

But now, he was chasing you.

It's back to the snowy forests of Snezhnaya, sprinting and dodging all the tall pines in your way. You hear him gaining speed from behind you, hydro blades swishing as they cut through branches, unbothered to waste energy on dodging. Distantly, the sound of a Fatui gunner prepares his shot. You immediately switch directions, a pyro blast landing inches from where you once were. It’s followed by more blasts, each hitting a little closer to you until—

“Ah!”

It grazes your shoulder, blood escaping the wound and soaking your clothes. You don't stop running, adrenaline keeping you alive and conscious. Childe barks something out in Snezhnayan. You’re too distracted with running to understand what he said, but the Pyro Gunner stops shooting and soon enough you focus on escaping.

A clearing appears in your line of sight. A field of snow and endless white and—

Crash! You're knocked off your feet, landing on the snow. You feel him on your back as you quickly force him away, rolling to the side and kicking. It's a blur from there on— a flurry of kicks, punches, scratches, the snow around you forming the most unrecognizable snow angel.

Until his hydro blade was on your neck as he keeps you pinned underneath him. No amount of sparring could've prepared you for a battle to the death with a harbinger. Your breaths fog together with every exhale, the proximity feels bad for your heart but finally, you get a clear view of the face you haven't seen for months.

“I win,” He says, an ever-so-childish grin on his lips, “Any last words?”

It astounds you how casual he is, as if you weren't running for your life just moments ago. Sparring had always been his favorite game but this wasn't like the other times. You do as you were trained (by both the Fatui and your organization)— you keep your mouth shut. Last words are worthless in the face of the enemy, you’d rather bite your tongue off.

“Hmm. . . the (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ) I know would have barked back some words. You would've scoffed.” Childe says, the blade pressing deeper onto your neck, drawing beads of blood to the surface. “Or was that some personality you made up? Was it fun for you?”

Silence.

The smile falls off his face. Something darkens in his eyes. “Alright. You won't talk, that's okay. Anyone who would dedicate their lives living undercover naturally wouldn't respond. I can respect that.” He starts, the blade doesn't move an inch on your skin, the snow numbing more of your back, “But at least answer me this. Not for your organization, not for you. . . answer it for me; was I ever anything to you?”

Silence. Keep quiet.

Something unrecognizable crosses his face. There’s a smile on his lips, but his eyes are pained.

“You know,” He whispers, leaning down closer to you. “Whenever we sparred, did you feel anything? Anything at all?” His face contorts to a mix of frustration, “Because I sure as hell knew I loved you. I can differentiate things, (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)! I knew what was bloodlust, it wasn't just me being battle hungry. I’m not dumb! I knew— know I love you!”

As if wanting to hide from your gaze, he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Forehead to the snow, blade stilling on your skin. Despite how cold everything is, the warmth of him seems enough to coax you in.

“. . . At least tell me how much of it was real. Please.” He mumbles slowly. Did you mean to cause this much anguish? Did you have to go fall for someone like him?

The words fall from your tongue before you could even catch them. The lack of hesitation, the urge to come clean; “Everything. . . everything was fake. Even my name. (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.). It's fake.”

He freezes over you, listening intently. Snow falls quietly into the ground, you wonder if you'll be buried in— caved to become timeless underneath the ice. Briefly, you think it would be fine if it happens if it's with Childe.

“I know it's hard to trust me, but please— loving you,” Pause. You feel tears well up in your eyes, blinding your vision of the descending snowflakes. “Loving you was real. Is real. It was the realest thing I had in that life under the Fatui. I’m so sorry, Childe, I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry we have to end like this.”

“You mean it?” He asks, hushed.

“Yes, yes, archons I mean it.”

“Then what's your real name?”

Your breath hitches, “(Name).”

“(Name).” He repeats.

The awareness of the metal on your throat becomes all too obvious. Breathing too hard would cause it to press more against your skin. You try to calm down, trying to accept the falling of the snow (the fall of you) as the end of your life nears and suddenly—

the blade is retrieved. You hear the shuffle of leather as it's placed back into its holder. Blinking, bewildered, you glanced up at him only to see his boyish grin.

“You honestly didn't think I'd kill you, right?”

Your mouth falls open. You want to hit him.

“You're going to let me go?”

“I mean, I did kind of let the traveler go back in Liyue.”

“The senior Harbingers reprimanded you for that!” You sit uo, hands flailing as you grab a handful of snow to throw at him. He lets it hit his stomach, laughing.

“It's fine, it's fine! The higher ups don't really care about me as much as they do the others anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly, “It gives me a whole lot of leeway. If I say I don't want to kill you, they'll just nod along.”

You stare at him longer than you mean to, holding his cheery gaze as the snow continues to settle around you. How quiet and peaceful to exist with him in that space.

“Is this really okay?” You ask and he falls silent with you.

He looks away to the white horizon, speaking in a softer voice, “Well, of course not. You still betrayed me, I still got hurt,” He inhales, “But you love me. I think that's all that really matters, no?”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can't bear to think how close you were to losing your life (losing him) and how easily he pushes your lifelong conflicts aside. So who cares if you played for the opposing organization? Who cares if you struggled with love and truth?

You've faked yourself for so long but Childe would still embrace you, lies and all.

“Come on, the snow must be cold.” He extends his hand, gesturing for you to take it, “Sooner or later the other scouts would be arriving. You should keep running east.”

“Ajax–” You start but he hushes you gently.

“We won't be seeing each other for a while. I don't know when we’d meet again but. . . you know, I’m sure it'll work out if it's us. So don't cry anymore, (Name).”

Stiffly, you nod. It was this moment that you tried to memorize everything about him— his eyes, his ginger hair, the way your name -your real name- falls off his tongue. You replay every sound he made to say such a name, just for the sake of remembering.

“Now go—” He pushes you to the direction, “Don't worry! I won't let them catch the love of my life!” He grins widely, hydro blades appearing in his hands once more as you nod towards him, tear stained smile in response. Your feet take you away, further and further away as you hear the familiar sounds of his blades against his own agents. Icy wind whipping against your face. You can't help the laugh that escapes you, surely the agents would think their blood-crazed superior is in another one of his impulsive moods.

You pity them and envy them all the same.

notes !! thoma is up next, featuring some of our fav inazuma characters <3 ill edit it into a post once my finals settle down (currently cramming in a cafe) I hope you guys liked this one

childe // i really tried to fulfill that he's the more talkative of the bunch! and honestly with childe’s history of forgive and forget, i dont think it's a surprise that he’d easily forgive MC and brush everything under the rug. if anything, he kind of likes the complexity as far as i could tell! by the way, did you like the inclusion of “before him, with him, and after him”? i think it was a poem or a dedication in some book. I really like the thought of it since it's a good way to divide timelines. BY THE WAY do you like the parallels? In part 1, he was left on the snow looking up at the sky. Now in part 2, ur the one on the snow looking up at him :D

#genshin #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #genshin tartaglia #diluc #tartaglia #genshin impact #harbinger x reader #genshin harbinger #fatui harbinger #genshin x reader #genshin angst #childe angst #genshin angst/comfort

652 notes · View notes

junesprince · 4 months

Text

im sorry if someone has pointed these out already but i replayed p5t again and i am in absolute SHAMBLES with these new observations. i never actually post my thoughts here but i kinda need people to talk to about p5t IM AUTISTIC AND HYPERFIXATED. anyway onto the real post, sorry if this is unorganized and messy. im just really excited

i really wanna talk about the whole event that happens in the 3rd kingdom, on the rooftop.

soo.. when the school crashes and transforms.. it resembles a clock. a train station??? and. said clock is unmoving. what struck me is the time it was stuck on. 6:00pm, or 18:00, the exact time The Train Incident (tm) takes place, and the exact time eri was pushed onto the train tracks at the station.

i guess you could say, toshiro is stuck in the past, unable to move on and process his trauma. it's the extreme guilt of him losing his closest friend and how standing up and rebelling... just ended up in so many people hurt. he can't possibly live bearing the sin of that.

but here's when it gets more interesting... when shadow toshiro was threatening to kill erina, and when erina/eri inspired toshiro to take a stand, he throws joker's knife through the shadows hand, but more specifically, through the gloved hand, the one damaged from the train.

then with a really good sequence, toshiro runs as fast as he possibly can (i wonder how he did that actually) and with flashing memories of him failing to save eri in between, he manages to catch erina before she falls. and... he catches her with his damaged hand. the same hand that failed to save eri, saved erina.

remember the clock from the beginning? it STARTS MOVING AGAIN right after this.

this whole scene is genuinely such a beautiful and symbolistic way to show that toshiro finally found his resolve, and that despite all that trauma in the past, he's ready to change for the better and move again.

oh, and one more thing. toshiros mask only has one eye shown. the left one... the one that eri lost. they have ONE EYE EACH AAAAGHHH!! their souls really are connected.

what gets me more is that one of toshiros catchphrases in combat iirc is "witness OUR power as ONE" and it makes me go insane because he basically sees eri as his hero (here ill quote a futaba dialogue that hit me hard: "natsuhara's like the undefeated heroine in toshiro's life story, huh?") and she made him feel like he's more than just a puppet of his father. she inspired him to take a stand, and while this resulted badly, it led to his LITERAL SOUL subconsciously manifesting into a being heavily based on her (erina)

he just believes that eri/erina is a huge part of who he is. so "witness our power as one"

the fact he doesn't have a real PT outfit disappoints me a bit, but id like to think it's because eri taught him that he doesn't need to become all cool and change himself to rebel. he just needs to be himself. that's really it.

some extra things i have noticed:

-shadow toshiros 'weapon' is basically just bandages. i first thought this was a twisted more distorted version of the bandages eri gave toshiro when they first met (since shadow toshiro claims to despise eri)?? but someone in yt comments pointed out its probably made from eri's bandages after the incident. and i think that makes much more sense

-toshiro is the only persona user that has a persona opposite of his gender... that's kinda... 🏳️‍⚧️ if you ask me...heh (im trans)

-i know many know already but erinas character design is GENIUS . like ... the covered eye and the prosthetic leg?? referencing eri?? SO FUCKING WELL DONE. genuinely one of my fav character designs in persona

-not really an observation but remember the 'thank you instead of sorry' hideout talk where toshiro tells the gang about eri more?? when it was finished and toshiro said "natsuhara-senpai...um, thank you." IT TORE MY HEART STRINGS STOOOPPP

-idk im kinda unnormal about eritoshi. that's all

#persona 5 tactica #persona 5 tactica spoilers #p5t #p5t spoilers #toshiro kasukabe #p5t erina #eri natsuhara #thanks for reading all of this if u did :)#i love this game so much. seriously amazing #i migjt post more of things like this. maybe #eritoshi

118 notes · View notes

sourwolf-sterek32 · 3 months

Text

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language,

Previous Chapter

Chapter 10- Scars are beautiful

Even months after the tragic car accident, it was difficult for you to recover from the fear and grief you felt. Vince was a total mess between his guilt and forced sobriety due to his jail release conditions. Your brother was trying, but he was struggling.

Arriving at the studio nearly three months later had you filled with mixed emotions. The scars had healed and faded in colour but were still prominent against your skin.

Tommy was the only one at the studio when you walked through the doors and instantly greeted you with a tight hug.

You melted into the drummer's arms and hugged him back just as tightly not wanting to let go.

Tommy was safe. You felt safe in his arms and after what happened, you needed that comfort, and he must have sensed it too because he held onto you for a few long minutes without saying a word.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around lately. Heather has-"

"Don't." You whispered, pulling away and looking up at him. "You don't need to apologise. I've been fine."

His hazel eyes softened, "are you okay though?"

You shrugged your shoulders hating how you could feel tears burning in the back of your eyes at that question.

You had been able to hide your emotions from Vince all these months, not wanting to cry in front of your brother and worry him. You had spent so long bottling up your feelings that a simple question from Tommy had those feelings spilling out involuntarily.

"Hey, talk to me." Tommy said gently noticing the tears rising in your eyes.

You shook your head and looked away, blinking back the tears.

"I can't go on stage anymore." You whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

"What are you talking about?"

"My face looks like a fucking roadmap. I can't... I can't be Mötley's backup singer looking like this."

"That's bullshit." Tommy insisted before he lifted his hand and cupped the side of your face gently turning your head towards him. "You're beautiful, Y/N. Those scars don't change that."

Your eyes locked with his warm hazel ones as he smiled softly at you before lowering his hand. You fought the urge to chase his touch, missing the contact instantly.

Suddenly, the studio door squeaked open, and you glanced over your shoulder to find Mick Mars walking inside but the older man paused when he saw you for the first time since the accident.

"Shit, kid." He sighed walking over and pulling you into a hug without hesitation.

The embrace caught you by surprise. Mick was never a hugger, but you didn't waste any time in hugging him back though. The studio door opened once again just as you and Mick pulled apart while Nikki strolled inside.

"Hey." Nikki greeted, not really looking at anyone closely as he dumped his notebook and stack of loose papers filled with lyrics on the table across the room.

"Hey, man." Tommy replied.

Nikki scanned over his papers quickly ensuring they were all there before he turned and faced the three of you. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat when he saw you for the first time since dropping you off from the hospital all those months ago.

"Hey, Sixx." You greeted giving him a small nervous smile.

Nikki was always good at masking his expression, even now as he took in the faded scars for the first time, he didn't allow his emotions to show.

"Hey, princess." He eventually said, slowly walking across the room.

He stopped in front of you, his sea green eyes a little red and glossy. He had a faraway look about him, like he wasn't entirely there, and your heart sunk realising that Nikki was high.

It wasn't unusual. Nikki was high a lot. The other guys were too. But this wasn't from marijuana or cocaine. This was different. There were faint needle marks on his inner arm that he was clearly trying to hide. Nikki was injecting something a lot more dangerous than coke and that terrified you.

The bassist didn't comment on the scars despite not hiding the fact he was looking at them. Instead, he turned his attention back to the music and you all followed him over to the couches by the coffee table while you waited for Vince.

Your brother was late, but nobody mentioned it when he arrived at the studio, but there were no tearful reunions from the guys either. A vague sense of sadness engulfed the room, as if an ex-wife had suddenly burst through the doors.

"What's up, dude?" Tommy greeted looking over at Vince as he walked into the studio.

Your brother smiled softly, "hey."

The room then fell into awkward silence. None of the guys knew what else to say or whether to address the elephant in the room and bring up the topic of the crash.

Tommy and Mick remained seated on the large couch, Nikki sitting on the single seater with his bass laying in his lap while you sat on the edge of the coffee table tapping your boot against the ground anxiously.

Tom Zutaut was pushing for the band to get back to work on this new album and go on tour, but you weren't sure if the guys were ready for that.

"I got, um, the lyrics." Nikki spoke up breaking the looming silence. "I think you may like 'em."

He pointed to the bundle of papers on the coffee table beside you, so you grabbed them and handed the sheets to your brother for him to read through.

"Home Sweet Home?" Vince read the title off the sheet looking over at Nikki.

"It's been too long, buddy." Nikki answered sincerely before picking up the silver tray lined with coke. "Here. Have a bump with me."

"Don't." You gave Nikki a warning look and he rolled his eyes.

"What can it hurt?"

"I just got out of fucking jail." Vince stated sternly causing Nikki to sigh while Tommy and Mick sat silently waiting for the outburst, but it never came. "You're an asshole."

Vince then walked over handing the lyrics back to you and before you could say anything he picked up the makeshift straw and sniffed the drugs clean off the tray.

"Wanna show him the melody?" Nikki asked looking over at Mick.

The older guy nodded and sat himself up straight with a small wince grabbing his guitar before Vince suddenly rushed across the room and proceeded to throw up in the trash can.

Oh, shit.

"What the fuck was that?" Your brother coughed before puking again.

"That was smack." Nikki answered casually.

Your head snapped in the bassist direction, your eyes ablaze with sudden anger. Mick was shaking his head at Nikki and Tommy just stared at him in shock not knowing what to say.

"You guys slip me smack, and I'm the fucking problem?" Your brother groaned wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before marching back over to the group of you and kicking the coffee table you were still sitting on angrily. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. I'm a monster. I killed Razzle, yeah. Could have happened to any one of you!"

Vince turned on his heels and marched towards the exit.

"Vince, wait-" You stood up from the table.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" He yelled over his shoulder before slamming the door shut behind himself.

"Nice job, Nikki." Mick sighed, slipping his sunglasses back on.

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" You spat turning to glare at the bassist.

Nikki looked up at you with eyes emptied of human emotion. Whatever he was injecting was seriously fucking him up.

"That's old news princess." Nikki sneered, snatching the bottle of Jack from the table taking a swig, his eyes never leaving yours. "Vince will come back. Don't worry."

You shook your head while Nikki plucked at his bass strings and drank.

He was right though.

Vince did come back, and the band worked on the new album together. 10-12 hours a day was spent in that recording studio. Some nights you all slept on the couches instead of going back home and after many long months, you had an album you were proud of.

Then, you began the Theatre of Pain tour across the states.

"Is that one going to be a problem?" Nikki asked walking along the stage to where Tommy had just finished kissing Heather goodbye.

You glanced over your shoulder at them from where you were sitting on the edge of stage beside Mick. Nikki was sipping a soda takeaway cup which you were almost certain had some kind of spirit mixed into it.

"What? She's great." Tommy answered.

Nikki snorted, "you're lucky she's hot."

"I know. She's super-hot, right?"

You could hear the smile in Tommys voice before he plonked himself down on the stage lying flat on his back beside you.

"I think I'm in love guys." He admitted looking up at you as you rolled your eyes dangling your feet off the edge of the stage before Nikki sat down on the speaker nearby.

It was early, well, not really, it was afternoon, but after the late night at the local club, you were all still hungover and trying to wake up ready for tonight's show.

Vince sat on a chair in the front row by the stage and waved at Nikki and Tommy who both waved back before Sharise walked down the aisle with little Skylar in her arms.

"Oh, Skylar, is it time to go already?" Vince asked, leaning forward before scooping up his daughter into his arms.

"Say bye to Daddy." Sharise said watching them hug before Skylar caught sight of you by the stage and began to squeal and wriggle in her father's arms trying to get to you.

"Hi baby girl!" You beamed jumping off the edge of the stage which was a little higher than you anticipated but managed to land on two feet before you rushed over.

Skylar held her little arms up towards you and Vince smiled allowing you to pick up your young niece as you spun her around in your arms causing her to coo in joy before resting her against your hip.

Skylar was never phased with the scars over your face. She never knew you without the scars, so the little girl never cared about them which was a silent relief.

Nikki and Tommy were both watching you on the stage, but you were too focused on your niece to notice their eyes.

Skylar babbled sweet nonsense while fiddling with your necklace and you kissed your niece's forehead gently.

"We're going to be late. Come on." Sharise suddenly said walking over and you reluctantly handed the little blonde girl back to her mother, but Skylar didn't seem so happy about that and started to cry.

"I know, baby. You'll see Aunt Y/N soon. Bye Vince, bye Y/N." Sharise said over her shoulder.

"Bye, Sharise." Vince replied and you gave her a friendly smile watching her walk off with your wailing niece.

"Is this bring your fucking girlfriend to work day?" Nikki muttered from the stage.

"Wish I had a girlfriend." Mick mumbled.

"I know, Mick. I know." Nikki sighed, sipping his drink quietly.

"You're good with her." Tommy suddenly said, ignoring the other two guys and you turned around to find him looking in the direction Sharise and Skylar had disappeared. "Skylar. You're good with her."

"She's a good kid." You smiled.

"You ever want kids?" Tommy asked casually causing Nikki to nearly choke on his drink as he coughed.

"Can't picture me as a mother, Sixx?" You chuckled in amusement as he shook his head while hitting his chest trying to breathe after nearly choking.

"No, no, I just... you don't even have a boyfriend."

You raised your eyebrows, "are you keeping tabs on my love life?"

"Or lack of love life, yeah." Nikki corrected causing you to roll your eyes and flip him off.

"Keep it that way. Guys only want one thing and it's fucking disgusting." Vince called out from his chair.

You glanced over at your brother, "you literally hook up with a new girl every day. I don't think you can comment on that."

"I never said I didn't fall into that disgusting category." Vince responded causing the guys to all laugh.

The first show of the tour was a hit.

The crowd were so engaged and hyped. Tommy even did his own drum solo while spinning in the air. it was fucking epic.

It had taken great effort for you to step foot on the stage at the beginning of the night. The guys had helped and supported you which you would forever be grateful for. The unsightly scars on your face were a source of constant self-consciousness, but it also bore witness to your resilience and determination to move forward with your life and not let it hold you back.

The scars had been decorated with glitter that were shimmering under the lights from the stage. The glitter helped your self-consciousness and although you still hated them, they at least looked a little nicer.

The show was going great, however, your microphone decided to stop working when the final song began. Typical.

Tommy was up the front of the stage playing the intro to Home Sweet Home on the piano. It surprised you every time he played the piano despite seeing him do it in the studio numerus times. You kept forgetting that he was secretly a band nerd from high school and could play more than just the drums and play them well.

Suddenly, the fans in the crowd began holding up their lighters while Tommy played the piano and you stood there in awe staring at the lights illuminating the stadium.

Holy shit.

"You know I'm a dreamer But my hearts of gold I had to run away high So I wouldn't come home low"

You felt like you could cry seeing all the lights going round and round in tune with the beat while your brother sung his heart out. Mick and Nikki both stood either side of the stage staring out at the crowd in amazement while Vince continued to sing along to Tommy's tune on the piano.

It was perfect.

You had almost forgotten that your microphone had stopped working too caught up in the moment and in shock at the scene in front of you.

By the time you remembered that it had broken, it was too late to ask the crew backstage for a new one, so you jogged over to Nikki standing nearby catching the bassist by surprise at your sudden appearance.

You danced slowly to the beat beside him and pointed at the microphone before making a dead motion with your hand to your neck. Nikki nodded in understanding while plucking at his bass and moving with your body in sync to the music.

"I'm on my way I'm on my way..." Vince continued to sing.

"Home Sweet Home." You sang in tune to your brother through Nikki's microphone.

Tommy jumped up from the piano throwing his hands in the air at the crowd that cheered loudly before he jogged across the stage to his drum set and sat down behind them. Mick and Nikki played their strings passionately as Tommy started up the beat on the drums keeping a beautifully smooth rhythm while Vince sang.

"You know that I've seen Too many romantic dreams Up in the lights, falling off the silver screen My heart's like an open book For the whole world to read Sometimes nothing keeps me together at the seams."

"I'm on my way I'm on my way..."

"Come on! Sing it!" You shouted at the crowd through the microphone.

"Home sweet home."

Despite it being a new song, the crowd were quick to catch on and sung the words back at you guys enthusiastically.

Vince glanced over at you with a bright smile hearing the fans sing the words for the first time. He didn't seem surprised that you were next to Nikki. It wasn't uncommon for you to share microphones with him and Mick. Hell, Vince had dragged you to the front of stage many times to use his microphone with him too.

You smiled back at your brother, all your worry, self-consciousness and anxiety about performing in front of crowds after the accident faded away as your eyes locked with Vince's before he turned back to the audience.

"Tonight, tonight I'm on my way Just set me free..."

"Home sweet home." You sang the words with Vince.

Nikki was leaning into you while strumming his bass and seemed to be enjoying the closeness while you swayed to the music against him. The girls in the crowd closest to the stage in front of you were screaming loudly with each sway of your hips against Nikki's.

Your brother didn't seem to notice too focused on his own performance, which was a silent relief. So, you continued to sing your parts while you and Nikki practically leant into each other behind the microphone.

By the end of the show, you were all buzzing with excitement.

"Did you see all those lights?!" Tommy practically shouted jumping up and down as you walked off backstage.

"It was pretty cool." Mick admitted.

"Hell yeah, it was cool!" Vince agreed grinning from ear to ear still hyped up from that final song.

"Did you guys know they were going to do that with their lighters?" You asked, glancing over at the others who shook their heads. "I can't believe they just did it on their own."

"Do you think the crowd will do it at other shows?" Vince asked, glancing over at you.

"I fucking hope so. That was awesome!"

Vince grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side for a hug and you chuckled softly sliding your arm around his back as the group of you walked down the corridor.

"This is me. I'm gonna get changed and see you guys back at the hotel." You said, pointing to your dressing room.

Vince kissed the side of your head before saying, "I'm proud of you. I know how hard it was to get back on stage."

You smiled but didn't dare speak. If you did, you'd probably cry, and Vince seemed to notice because he gave you a small smile before letting you go and following the others down the corridor to their own dressing rooms.

You went to close the door behind yourself before Nikki held his hand up stopping it from shutting. He had been uncharacteristically quiet after the show, and you weren't sure why. The others were all so happy after what just happened, but Nikki hadn't commented on it.

"Thanks for letting me use the microphone." You said over your shoulder, not knowing what else to say as you walked over to your dresser and began pulling off your rings before glancing at Nikki through the mirror who was standing awkwardly in the doorway. "You know, you're capable of being a nice guy when you want to be. Why do you give me such a hard time sometimes?"

Nikki hesitated, "I'm not sure."

"Up on stage... I was starting to think it's because you have feelings for me which is crazy because..." You trailed off looking down at your hands not sure why you even started to say that.

"I do have feelings for you."

Your head snapped back up meeting Nikki's smoky eyes through the mirror.

"You do?"

"Yes, I feel that you're a little annoying."

You sighed turning around to face him, "see why? Why, Sixx? Right when I'm about to change my opinion of you-"

Nikki closed the distance between the two of you and silenced you by cupping the side of your face and kissing you roughly. You took no time to collect yourself before kissing him back with double the amount of passion making him smile into the kiss.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to do that on stage." Nikki whispered against your lips.

"Guys!" Tommy's voice suddenly called out followed by a knock on the door.

Nikki ignored him and turned his attention back to you. His hands travelled to your back, sliding underneath your shirt as he gripped the small of your waist before lifting you up onto the desk like you weighed nothing.

"Guys. C'mon, open the door. I know what you're doing in there. I saw you all over each other on stage." Tommy continued to say his knocking turning louder. "Guys!"

Nikki let out a frustrated groan before marching over and opening the door to find the drummer standing there with his knuckles up mid knock. Tommy stared at the bassist for a moment taking in his lipstick-stained lips before glancing over at you sitting on the desk with your shirt riled up.

"Thought you said this was in the past?" Tommy eventually said, his hazel eyes glued to yours.

"You jealous, T-bone?" Nikki teased.

Tommy scoffed but it was all fake and you knew it.

"If you weren't dating Heather, I'd probably kiss you too." You piped up and if it wasn't for the liquid courage of alcohol you had drunk during the show there was no way you'd have the guts to say that.

Nikki's head snapped in your direction, and you had expected to see him angry or annoyed by your comment but there was something almost exciting that flashed across his face before he turned back to Tommy.

"You wanna join? It's not like we haven't shared a girl before."

Tommy's eyes widen before he glanced over at you hesitantly and you raised your eyebrows waiting for an answer.

"Fuck, I'm weak." Tommy mumbled to himself before he walked into the dressing room locking the door shut.

Nikki grinned, "atta boy."

You reached out, your fingers hooking into the straps of Tommy's leather suit before you pulled him close and captured his lips with yours.

Tommy's body was tense for a moment like he was beginning to have second thoughts. You were about to pull away but then he started to relax, and his hands reached up cupping your face tenderly before he started to kiss you back.

Nikki was now pressed up against your other side placing a trail of kisses down your neck causing you to moan softly against Tommy's mouth. You could feel Tommy's package starting to turn hard against you, Nikki's own poking into your side through his tight restricting leather pants.

"How-how far are we taking this." You gasped, breaking away from Tommy's lips.

"As far as you want, baby." Tommy answered, caressing your cheek as his eyes flicked up to the scar over your eye.

You ducked your head not wanting him to see it and Nikki must have sensed the shift in your posture because he stopped sucking on your neck and looked up in confusion.

"What's the matter?" He asked, his voice rougher than usual.

"You're beautiful, Y/N. That scar doesn't change anything." Tommy insisted knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Hey. Princess, look at us. Look at us." Nikki ordered before hooking his thumb under your chin and raising your head until your eyes reluctantly met theirs. "That's it. Good girl."

Nikki smiled softly before cupping your cheek and tracing the scar along your jaw with his thumb gently.

"Tommy's right. You're beautiful. These scars are beautiful."

"But-" you began to say before Tommy cut you off.

"You are beautiful." He insisted, resting his hand on your thigh while Nikki continued to trace the scar with a small smile.

"Who cares what anyone else thinks. You're ours and you're fucking perfect." Nikki stated before his lips met yours and he kissed you passionately.

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

#motley crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x you #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fanfiction #tommy lee #tommy lee fanfic #tommy lee x reader #vince neil #mick mars #the dirt #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue x reader #pov #imagine

80 notes · View notes

whiskeynwriting · 1 year

Note

Yeaaaaah imma need more Simon x Bones content (if you’re willing, of course!) 🥵 The dynamic you created between the two characters is just ✨chefs kiss✨

Ahhh thank you so much my love!! <3 I very much enjoy writing them 🥰

Come Find Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

◆

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Dirty talk, size kink, praise kink-ish, oral (f receiving), somnophilia (kind of?), established relationship, fluffiessss

◆

A/N: Full version is here! Ghost is a tits man, you literally can't change my mind about this.

◆

Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

Warm and firm, the weight crushing, yet comforting. There’s the smell of fresh pine, bergamot, the small chill of his chain. It causes a shiver to roll through your body, one you settle into. The bulk of his biceps cage you in, arms snuggled between your back and the mattress. The moment is private and above all, intimate. He’s resting on you, his head turned to the side so his cheek can rest on your chest, right between your breasts. And you welcome it, him and his positioning, legs opened slightly with his pelvis laying between them. Your own arms are around him, too, holding his hulking body above you.

“How was the mission?” You ask quietly, body consumed by the tenderness of it all. Your hand is smoothing over the back of his head, caressing him.

“Long.” Is all he says, holding you just a little tighter in those gorgeously sculpted arms.

And then he groans. It’s a small, happy sound, made as he nuzzles further in. Yeah, he really did miss you.

Right now, on top of being completely at ease, you’re both wondering why the hell you haven’t done this before. Not only are Simon’s quarters smaller, but they’re colder, too, and not just physically.

The air in the barracks is stiff and unwelcoming. But here, it’s warm, comfortable and inviting. Your space is much bigger than his, being that you’re on base far more often than him. Simon also didn’t prefer to have much in his room, easier to keep clean, he says. But honestly, he’s loving your fairly decorated space. Everything just seems… nicer. Your bed is full in size, opposed to his single-style military issued cot. It’s also softer, has more pillows and blankets, too. There’s also better lighting, you even have a window in here. But it’s closed with the curtains drawn, shutting out the night. To top it all off, you have a mini fridge and a small stash of snacks on the shelf above your desk. He’d kill for that.

In the quiet lull surrounding you, Simon releases a warm breath over your skin, you’re just in your bra and shorts beneath him. Rubbing his cheek slightly across your chest, he gives the curve of your tit a tender kiss before snuggling in again.

“Simon?”

“Mm?” He grumbles in response, his mask pulled barely above his lips.

“I missed you.” You’re cooing to him like he’s a precious baby, and deep inside, he fucking loves it. He loves how caring you are. He’s never been cared for like this.

Simon has opened up quite significantly since the start of your relationship. And still, nobody knows about it, not even Soap or Price. It’s not necessarily forbidden for the two of you to do this, but you both think it would be frowned upon. Ghost should be focused on his work, and you on yours. But neither of your performances have faltered since the start of this, so, why end it?

As soon as he returned from their most recent mission, Simon found you. Just like before. But instead of dragging you to his barracks, you suggested your own room. You were less likely to be caught there. So, after showering up, he walked to C-Block, coming up with a multitude of excuses in the case that he’s seen. But he wasn’t, you were right. This block is empty as hell, especially at night. Not many people stay at the base, only essential workers for the team. The only people occupying the other rooms in C-Block were mainly janitors and the occasional assistant nurse.

“Wasn’t gone that long, love.” He chastises gently, smirking.

He’s right, he was only gone for a week. But still, you missed him; how could you not?

“Does that mean you didn’t miss me?” You tease in response, grinning in the near-darkness of your room.

He hums, chuckling. You’re baiting him, and you’re winning. “I did.”

During the mission, he thought about you, mainly when he went to bed. He tried to keep you out of his head during the day - otherwise it’d get him killed. But on your end, you thought about him all day, while you worked, while you ate, while you bathed. It’s like you ached for him, and you’re so thankful he’s back again.

Every time they came back from a mission, they got the next day off. Meaning, Simon doesn’t have a strict bedtime tonight, nor an early wakeup call tomorrow. This is the best time for you to enjoy each other’s company. And even though he’s got the night off, and the following day, all he wanted to do was lay down with you. He’s exhausted, physically and mentally drained. And even though he’d never admit it… he wanted to be held by you. He wanted to be close to your body.

With the blanket pulled over Simon’s large frame, your hands caressing his back, he releases a contented breath. Turning his head, he kisses your breast again, slowly laying his tongue over it. It makes you moan quietly, happily, the warm, wet feeling of it. And when he feels your fingernails drag lightly across his naked back, he grins, licking your curves again.

“Baby…” It’s a small sigh, lolling your head to the side as you glance down at him.

“Hm…” He groans slightly, releasing a breath. And then, he leans in, giving your covered, pebbled nipple a delicate kiss.

Coming home to you feels… good. Good in a way he almost can’t describe. It makes him hopeful about life, you give him something to look forward to. And in the midst of this, he finds his chest tightening with emotion, that smile continuing to tug at his lips.

“Come here,” He grumbles in that thick, baritone voice. “Closer to me.”

It’s quiet and calm in your space, his movements reflecting the mood. He’s slow with it, thick fingers wrapping around the edge of your bra. Gently, yet firmly, he tugs it down, freeing your breasts, and you gasp. Lifting his head, his cheek slides over them, nudging the softness of your flesh with his face.

His one hand slides along your side, finding your waist and squeezing lightly. He truly loves your body, absolutely mesmerized by your tits. Since the two of you started… whatever this is, he’d thought about all the things he could do to you, all the things you could do to him. Unfortunately, there wasn’t always time in the day for things like that. But right now, he’s reveling in this moment, in the night he now has to spare.

“Gorgeous, B.” Simon grunts, gently sucking your nipple into his mouth.

Now, you moan fully, arching ever so slightly into his touch. Simon always seemed to love your breasts, ever since he got to see them, got to touch them, got to lick on suck on them.

“Baby…” Cradling his head against you feels different when he’s in your bed. But regardless of where you are, you’re still able to feel how incredibly large he is. His body is dwarfing yours, caging you in and making you feel small and secure.

Laying his tongue out, he runs it over the slope of your breasts, dipping into the valley between them. His mouth suctions to the soft skin on the side of your boob, sucking a mark onto you. It made his insides stir with excitement, seeing you during the day and knowing his mark is resting just beneath the layers of your clothing.

“Oh my god, I missed you.” Rutting up against him prompts his pelvis to grind down into you, his lips returning to your pointed peaks.

“Yeah… I know you did.” He responds teasingly.

And his cheeky attitude doesn’t even phase you, because the motions of his mouth have become hungry, and he’s groaning, his humid breaths huffing out across your chest. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him, the muscles beneath his hot skin moving against you. He feels strong, keeping his weight in mind as he presses into you.

He’s more than eager to have you again, but honestly, he’s not looking for a hard fuck. Right now, he’s yearning for a sweet sense of intimacy. He’d never ask for it, though, not verbally. But when he was gone, it’s all he thought about, holding you close in his bed, feeling your little limbs wrap around him again.

“Baby,” Comes that deep accent, his baritone voice. “Fuckin’ love doing this to you.”

Only your table lamp is on, the one sitting atop your nightstand. And in this atmosphere of barely-there darkness, you grin. He’s never called you baby before.

“I love when you do it.” Your voice is sweet and soft, just how he likes it.

Something inside him stirs, feeling incredibly grateful for you. In the two times you’ve had him, it was clear to see that he wasn’t a selfish lover. He liked letting you know just how attractive you are to him, no matter the situation. And these thoughts prompt him to move down, mouth slowly sliding over your rib cage and belly. It makes your insides tingle, feeling him crawl down your body.

“Wanna do somethin’ else, too.” He’s mumbling against you, his stubble just barely scratching your skin. And by now, he’s dry humping you, repeatedly rolling his hips into your pelvis.

The way he’s touching you makes you moan, releasing an airy breath. Lightly, his teeth nip at your skin, tongue soothing the sting. You want to ask him what, baby? What else do you want to do? But he’s distracting you.

“Wanna lay between your legs.” Jesus, you could listen to his voice for hours. It’s so sexy, the deep rumble of it. He’s mumbling over your skin, his eyes closed when says, “Wanna taste you again.”

Naturally, his words make you perk up, lifting your head to stare down at him. The hand on your waist squeezes again, thumb brushing over your belly as he kisses it. He can feel its inhale, the push and pull of your breath. And when his lips meet your skin, his eyes lift, finding yours and sending a shock through your being.

“You want to… taste me?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Simon…” You’re rolling your eyes, but his words bring you right back to him.

“Wanna eat that pretty little pussy.” He says it so easily, so casually.

Simon’s only done this with you one time before, and the entire ordeal was pretty quick. But by the way he’s moving, by the way he’s talking, it’s like he wants to put his mouth on you and just keep it there. While he was gone, he thought of it constantly - going down on you, you going down on him. The ladder has yet to happen. He bets you’d be good at it, but he doesn’t know for sure. All he knows is that he is good at it, and he knows it because he’s made you cum before. He remembers your taste, your smell, how you wriggled beneath his arms and cried out for him.

“I’ll let you sleep, lovely.” He promises, his breath fanning over your chest. It smells like mint, clean and fresh. “I just want it, B, please.” And this shocks you; he’s never begged like this. “Can I?”

It’s grown late; originally, he got back to base around ten. But he still wanted to find you. It’s become an unspoken rule between the two of you. No matter when he returns, no matter how late or early it may be, he’ll come and find you. He knows you wouldn’t refuse.

Your quiet voice speaks into the night, “Yes.”

Dropping his forehead onto your stomach, he groans. A quiet fuck leaves his lips, his body moving forward so he can kiss you. Bulging biceps hold his body up as he leans in, one of his hands sliding beneath your hair to hold the back of your head. The kiss isn’t brief, it’s deep, his tongue invading your space. It dives into your mouth, languidly and passionately rubbing over your own. It’s so easy for you to get him going, too easy, in his opinion.

Sighing into his kiss, your hands slide down, holding either side of his mostly-hidden face. Rhythmically, his lips move against you, tongue allowing you to taste his spit. And the more he shoves it into your mouth, the more excited you become, eager to feel these same movements between your legs. As the two of you continue to grow close, you’ve noticed how much he likes kissing. And he’s rather good at it.

“You want me to lick you, B?” Ghost asks hurriedly against your lips. “Want my tongue in your sweet pussy?”

“Fuck, Simon.” Bringing him in, you urge him to press his forehead to your own. “Yes.”

Maybe it’s because he spends most of his time with his mouth covered, maybe that’s why he’s so eager to use it on you. It’s almost like he’s curious with it, wanting to experiment with you.

Broad palms finding your hips, his fingers dipping past the hemline of your panties and shorts to pull them off in one go. He’s gentle with you, sliding them down your legs. And then he notices the uncomfortable position of your bra, reaching up to free you of this, too.

“You get cozy, love.” His voice is rough, gravely, his accent thick and wafting through the air.

Sighing happily, you do as he says, relaxing your muscles and laying back for him. And while you begin to rest, Simon does the opposite. His body is becoming more aroused by the second, and his thoughts won’t stop running laps in his head. While he was gone, he thought about you… so much. Honestly, almost nothing else made its way into his head. Simon felt like he needed you, and that scared him. But in the same sense, thinking of you also comforted him.

“Pretty…” He mumbles, kissing his way down the inside of your thigh. Settling on his stomach, he sighs, looping his arms beneath your legs, hands resting on your hips.

“… fucking annoying?” You ask with a laugh, repeating his ongoing joke with you.

And it makes him chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, not this time.”

Widening your legs for him, you reach for another pillow to support your head. You want to watch this. And with the extra support, you do, witnessing Simon’s gorgeous lips become wet with his tongue.

With a heavy exhale, he’s leaning in, closing his eyes when his mouth meets your thigh. His fingertips curl into the meat at your hips when his teeth come out, nipping at you before his tongue swipes over your skin. Releasing a small moan, Simon begins to relax, his mouth languidly sucking on the sweet flesh of your thigh.

“Gonna take my time with you.”

“Baby…” Your hands are on his head, fingers sliding over the back of his mask. And he leans into your touch, humming from it.

When he’s done leaving his first mark on you, he drags the point of his nose up your inner thigh, nuzzling it into the crease of your leg. Sliding his tongue out, he licks up this small valley, moving it over your labia. Your lips part when he does it, brows raising as he continues to lick you. An open-mouthed kiss is then placed directly on your center, his lips briefly sucking yours in.

“Pretty,” He grumbles again, eyes remaining closed. Another kiss to your center, then another little lick. “Pretty baby… pretty ‘n pink…”

It makes you giggle; he’s really starting to let go around you.

“You like when I call you names?” He asks, gently laying his tongue over your hooded clit.

Nodding, you grin, nibbling on the corner of your lip. And then, your hips jerk from the sensation, his tongue running over you again. “Yes.”

“Yeah,” He replies easily, cockily. “I know you do.”

“You think you know me so well, don’t you?”

“I know what you like,” Again, a quick and easy reply. “What makes you move.”

Okay, yeah. That’s true. But you’re not giving up that easily.

“So, what?”

And then he’s shoving his tongue into you, directly into your warm center. It makes you yelp quietly, moaning dramatically when he begins pumping it into you.

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking.” Ghost says when he removes his mouth from you. Turning, he wipes his face off on your sensitive skin, kissing it before returning to your sex again.

One of Simon’s broad hands slides up your side, fingertips curling around your right breast and squeezing lightly.

“Fuck,” Groaning, you plop your head back. “You make it so hard to -”

And then that same hand is on your mouth, covering it. “No talking.”

For some reason, this makes your eyes roll back, sighing into his hand. The skin of his palm is rough but you love it, you love feeling the ruggedness of him. And it works in his favor, because you immediately stop talking.

With his eyes closed, he mouths at you, siding his tongue up through your folds and using the tip of it to circle your clit. Keeping his hand on your mouth, he slides his thumb across your lower lip, the motion making you moan. Applying gentle pressure, you part your lips, allowing his thumb to slide in. Wrapping your mouth around it, you suck, one of your hands leaving his head to cup the breast he left. And while you suck on him, he sucks on you, just barely pulsating his mouth around your tiny nub.

“Mm,” Helplessly, your hips buck up, eyes pinching shut while you moan around his thumb.

“You like that?” He asks, keeping pressure on your tongue.

All you do is nod, whining quietly and pushing your hips closer to his face. Grinning, he dives back in, wet tongue laying out over your sensitive skin.

It feels so lewd and exciting and it makes your insides tingle, having him between your legs like this again. He’s so good at this, he’s fucking amazing at this. And it makes you wonder, how many women has he been with? But that thought flies out of your head when he takes his thumb out of your mouth, lowering it to himself. Licking the pad of it, briefly tasting your spit, he then rubs it over your clit, watching your hips buck from it.

“Simon, please.”

“You’re supposed to be enjoyin’ this, remember? Supposed to be relaxing for me.”

While you’re whimpering from both frustration and agonzing arousal, his mouth finds your leg, sucking another mark into it. He keeps pressure on your sensitive clit, rubbing it gently but most certainly enough to stimulate it.

“Just lay back, sweetness.” He urges, taking his thumb away once again. “Let me lick it.”

“Oh, Simon.” Again, your head drops back, a fresh wave of arousal spilling from your lips. His voice, his words, they affect you so much.

Happy with your compliance, he sighs, releasing a cool breath directly over your sex. He watches your skin pebble from it, the muscles in your legs tightening ever so slightly around him. Using the strength in his hands, he lifts your legs, placing your knees on his shoulders with your calves resting on his back. Holding you in this position encases him between your thighs, his mouth now focusing directly on you.

Both of your hands return to his head, fingers scraping along the black fabric. Accidentally, they pull up the back of it, but just barely. You expect Simon to freeze, to jerk away from your hold and scold you for it. But he doesn’t; he’s trusting you. With your heart racing inside your chest, you slide the mask back down so it’s completely covering the back of his head. And when you do it, he hums, a small sound of gratitude and approval.

“Baby…”

Lord, he loves when you call him that. It feels so soft and domestic, so sweet. Especially coming from you.

“Mm… that’s it.” Mumbling over your sex, he groans. “It’s okay, sweets. You can be as loud as you want here.”

And he’s right. You’re sure no one will hear you, not in this block. With that realization, you feel yourself let go, a wanton moan slipping from your throat.

“That’s it,” That particular sound riles him up quite a bit, his tongue diving into your pussy once again. “That’s more like it.”

Quickly, he flicks the tip of his tongue over the peak of your sex, but with a deep, rugged breath, he reels himself back in.

“No, nonono. Baby, please. Please, do that again.” You’re reaching out for him, whining and begging him to continue that pace.

“Mm-mm,” Shaking his head, he sighs. Turning his head, he nuzzles his nose into the inside of your thigh. “Don’t you wanna sleep, B?”

“I, well…”

“Just sleep,” He coos, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips. “Let me take care of you.”

Those specific words make your heart fucking burst. Doing as he says, you lay back, taking away the extra pillow beneath your head. After all, he’s right. You’re absolutely exhausted, and so is he. But he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to enjoy you. So, you decide to let him.

You’re not sure how long he plans to do this for, but regardless, you get yourself cozy. Dragging a blanket over your upper half, you make sure to keep it above his head, not wanting him to get too hot beneath it.

“B-Baby,” You’re mumbling now, eyes beginning to drift shut. His licks and kisses are light, tender.

“Shh…” He mutters, softly ordering, “Turn off the light.”

Leaning over, you do, settling in even more than before. He feels you shuffle, nestling into your extraordinarily comfy bed. Resting between your legs, he holds onto you, gently massaging your muscles while he mouths at your sex. It’s something… different, something incredibly new and intimate. And when he hears your tiny yawn, it makes him happy. He really does want you to relax. Truthfully, this is all he’s thought about doing.

At first, you’re listening, your eyes drifting shut to the subtle sounds of him licking you. The sensation of it is delightful, his head resting on your right thigh while he keeps his mouth on you. The gentle vibrations of his occasional moans and hums lull you to sleep, drifting in and out of slumber as minutes quickly turn into a full hour. And Simon still hasn’t moved, still hasn’t stopped, nor slowed down, nor sped up. He’s just tasting you, enjoying this timid exploration. It’s a gentle indulgement, something he’s only dreamed of doing to you.

Your wetness trickles from the seams of your sex, and he continues to lick it up, hearing your little snores while he does. Lazily, his head rocks to a slow rhythm when he feels your thighs begin to quiver. But you’re still asleep, your breathing still steady.

The taste of you is tangy, but still genuinely sweet. It’s something he really does love. He could and will stay here for hours, for as long as he can. In the darkness, it feels so… private. So wonderfully personal and delicate.

It’s slow and lazy, the sleepy orgasm he brings to you. Your hips roll up against him, his lips suctioning ever so gently to your clit. He rides it out with you, feeling one of your hands pet at him. You’re smiling, just barely, still lost in the thoughts of your dreamscape.

Wetness spills from you, and he cleans it up with his tongue. You’re wet from him, his saliva lingering after your cum is gone. The roughness of his taste buds are dragged along your inner thighs, catching any juices he might’ve missed. But really, he just wants to savor it.

“B-Baby…” It’s small and quiet and just so… cute. You sound so sleepy and delicate.

Grunting quietly, Simon lifts himself, leaning onto his left forearm. With his free hand, he uses the back of it to wipe off his face, groaning from your subtle smell.

When he looks down, he can just barely see you in the darkness, one of your hands reaching for him. Leaning in, he nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand, smiling before turning to kiss it. Shuffling around, he manages to maneuver his body next to yours. Your bed is backed into the corner of your room, and you’d been laying on the outer edge. But that side is closer to the window, and you sleeping right beside it just doesn’t sit well with him. So, he gently nudges you, moving you with his strong arms until you’re safely next to him.

“Baby,” You softly call again, whining quietly.

“I’m here, sweetness.” He finally returns, sliding one bulky arm beneath your head.

Turning on your side, he feels you bring yourself into his chest. For some reason, it surprises him, someone wanting to be this close to him. On his back, he relaxes, feeling one of your small hands slide across his chest. And then you do something that really shocks him, something that makes every vein in his body feel electric. Gently, you find and hold onto his dog tags.

Using his other hand, he slides it over yours and up to your forearm, holding you with it. And now, with one arm beneath your head and the other on your arm, he’s got you wrapped up in the secure cage of him.

He doesn’t know if he should say it, but with a deep sigh, he decides to go through with it. “I’m really… really glad I found you.”

In your sleepy state, you assume he’s talking about when he got back to base. The past few times, he’s always come looking for you. Little do you know, his words hold a deeper meaning. Sleepily, though, you respond to him.

“Always want you to.” Mumbling, you kiss his naked chest, sighing. “Always want you to come find me.”

#Simon #baby I need you #Simon riley #simon “ghost” riley #Simon Riley cod #ghost cod mw2 #Simon Riley x you #Simon Riley x reader #Simon Riley x female reader #Simon Riley smut

486 notes · View notes

imagine-shenanigans · 10 months

Text

hey guys i haven't even had a chance to see atsv yet i just know spoilers and i want this man biblically, i'm talking carnally, i want him in a way that hurts feminism, i want to bring the whole damn movement down so i can be his stupid little housewife and raise his damn kids so i can watch him be happy and then also get railed into losing every brain cell i have

anyway here's some abo headcanons, they include spoilers for the movie/his backstory probably because idk what is and isnt a spoiler because i havent seen it yet.

also this one works a bit differently than my normal layout, it goes SFW and then dips NSFW and ends with more SFW but they're all clearly labeled!

Reader is written gender neutral with they/them and the nsfw section has afab and amab sections, but since I'm Nonbinary and AFAB that's probably how it's gonna come off for most of the reading, just to warn you!

Miguel O'Hara x Reader N/SFW ABO Headcanons

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5k words

Content Warnings (tell me if I miss any): Dubcon, ABO, Obsessive Behavior, Toxic behavior, Omega reader, Alpha Miguel

For these headcanons we're gonna exist in a weird liminal space where Gabi is like, five to six or so and he brought her home with him or some shit idk man I just think he's a hot single father anwyay, also this is assuming omega reader because i think it's hot

if anyone wants a version where Miguel follows more canon and he still lost his kid and came back you're free to request that too i love that shit, just for this specific one i wanna raise his damn kids so-

SFW

Alpha, big alpha energies.

Miguel is the type of guy who's pretty obsessive with what he claims as his, I would honestly say borderline yandere vibes without fully delving into it - his mental state in this au/situation is also a lot better since he still has his daughter, so he's genuinely a lot less "feral" than he tends to get without her, even though in this we'll say he did almost lose her.

So when he claims someone, he's going to be damn sure he means it.

This ones a bit of a general headcanon but he doesn't really have a type when it comes to the people he likes, other than he needs someone who's interesting to him. Whether it's because you're hotheaded, or even keeled, whether you're snarky or sweet, he just needs something for his brain to latch onto.

Not a love at first sight guy but he is an "obsession I can't place" kind of guy.

Miguel has really enhanced senses when it comes to scenting, so it takes some damn strong suppressants and scent blockers to completely block him out... which if we're pretending reader here is falling with the abo trope of "hiding being an omega" (which we are because I love tropes) is just what gets him obsessed. Clothing and perfume that masks your scent, suppressants and scent blockers, and a confident attitude are all enough to throw most people off the (forgive my pun) scent.

But not Miguel.

His spider DNA has the animalistic side to it that fucks with his hormones regardless, makes it easier for him to pick up on the pheromones that even most attentive alphas can't, he's damn near a personal lie detector with how smart he is and how attuned he is to what his nose and instincts tell him, even when he's using serums to keep the more feral urges at bay.

He can only get a whiff of you, fainter than most betas, and it drives him fucking insane knowing he can smell something but he can't figure it out. He can't place it, and it nags at his brain. He can smell a whiff of flowers, or sugar, or something undeniably citrus (depending on what you headcanon your own smell to be) but he can't place it and he hates that shit.

Ends up pulling some traditional alpha shit and he can't even help it, starts trying to crowd you until you kick him in the shin or Peter B or Jess shoos him away. He has to figure out what it is, he has to know.

It only gets worse when he brings Gabi in (a babysitter fell through) and you end up butting your way in to play with Gabi and Mayday, delighting in watching them for the day instead of whatever you were supposed to be doing. They're both so cute and sweet.

Gabi smells primarily like cinnamon and a bit like dewey grass - she's not old enough to have presented yet, but her basic scent, unaffected by the secondary gender hormones, is simple and sweet, reminds you of a summer morning.

She takes after her father in that regard - Miguel smells *warm* and a bit musky, like trees and cinnamon and, a bit like a camp fire. A small tinge of oil, when you pick it apart, and you can't tell if its from the lingering scent on his skin after fixing a broken machine nobody else could, or if that's part of his natural scent.

(Mayday smells like marshmallows, and carmel, funnily enough)

When you take care of Gabi and Mayday, your scent lingers on their skin, mixes and twists in a way that Peter B can't notice but Miguel can. It's all he can do not to be a damn freak and pick his baby girl up and sniff her hair to try and figure out why she smells like that (not in a creepy way, to clarify because there are some freaks on here, but in the same way a dog gets baffled by smelling you use a new perfume, or in the way of when you pick your kid up and go "WHY DO I SMELL CANDLES ON YOU WHAT WERE YOU DOING")

He almost can't stand how his head swims when he watches you pick Gabi up and gently throw her up in the air a bit, watching you let her climb onto you while you're distracted just like Mayday does. Soothe her tears when she accidentally breaks a toy because she's still learning to control her super strength.

He doesn't know that he wants you either, not until long after he's already manifested feelings. Doesn't realize how protective he is, doesn't realize how differently he treats you. He doesn't realize he's lingering in your area just long enough to make sure he can fill his nose with the faint scent you give off.

He assumes you're a beta - not that it mattered to him, really. Miguel would just as soon marry another alpha as he would a beta or an omega, as long as it's you.

He doesn't realize what he's doing until he's got a piece of your clothing in his hands, holding it in the dead of night up to his nose. A scarf or a glove or a jacket you'd leant to Gabi during the day and she'd spilled her juice on it and he'd taken it home to wash it.

He can smell his daughter's scent, louder than life, so familiar he could have a handful of pepper thrown at him and he'd still be able to wrap his arms around her and move her out of harm's way in the direst of straits.

And then there's yours, linger, mingling with his daughter's scent, and it's the parent of his child.

It's not, it's not the woman who birthed Gabi, it's not the woman who contributed to making her. It's you, the only other person he ever wants near his child in that capacity. And it's intoxicating. It's infuriating. It's overwhelming because the full breadth of his own emotions is so strong as he realizes what he's been doing. And he can't even tell you because he holds himself to a specific standard, a specific code of ethics, and even though he wants to risk it all just so his hindbrain (both alpha and spider and his own human instincts all mingling in one) can have his little loves all wrapped up in his arms, safe where he can protect them.

He only just has the strength to wash the piece of cloth and return it. It takes everything he has not to cling to it, to make a pretty little nest to protect his family in, webs and pillows and fabric, a basis of protection so you can properly make it your own and -

He controls himself, and returns the scarf the next day, leaving it on your desk because he can't bear to look you in the eyes.

The days struggle by, a stark contrast to his normal snark, to lingering in your space and snorting and rolling his eyes. To being by your side more than he normally is. It's disheartening, it makes you feel rejected, and he knows it.

But he doesn't stop, this tension that can cut through the air lingering. Even Gabi and May notice it, the older girl frowning and the younger fussing when the two of you are in the room together.

And then your heat happens.

(brief bullet point break because there's a limit to how much you can have in one bulleted section on tumblr and I don't remember what it is but I'd rather just break here)

You've been on suppressants and scent blockers for years now. Being in your line of work (whether you headcanon this as a spiderperson version of you, or a different kind of superhero, or a civillian all working in the society) it's necessary. Omegas aren't rare but they're not the majority of the population like betas are. In Nueva York, it's a coin toss if you'll be fought over in the streets like some prize to be won, or if you'll be coddled like a child who can't figure out what's best for them.

It's half safety half preference at this point, from your original universe's standard (before it had burnt to cinders before you), and this one's. Your suit, your meds, and your behavior, they're all meant to mask and confuse.

But you can only make it so long on the prescription you've got, the long-lasting shots that were more reliable than a pill. The scent blockers go first - not by design, but by chance. You'd been giving yourself lower doses since you'd wound up in Nueva York, supplementing it with deodorants and lotions swiped from stores and hospitals that could afford to spare the supplies when you can't buy it covertly. But you'd still been low in comparison to your suppressants.

You shower more frequently, lather yourself with soaps and deodorants and lotions of different scents and ones that have blocking effects, and for the most part it works. You can't quite fool Gabi - too smart, too tuned in to your emotions like her father could be. She's got a sharp nose, and she wrinkles it when she can smell how confusing your scent is. She asks questions, and you can't lie your way out of it, but you are able to bribe her so she's distracted long enough that she forgets the question. Miguel notices, when he picks up Gabi, but he can't quite figure out exactly what's wrong, and you leave so fast (he assumes with the tension that lingers between the two of you) that he can't figure it out.

You're so certain you're in the clear.

But then your shots run out, and even you can't get more without a prescription. And while your health information would never go through Miguel, you know that the medispiders have to go through him or Lyla for any heavy duty things like suppressants, because they have to be resourced more carefully.

And your last doctor, although wildly shady, and incompetent, and operating out of an apartment, was right about one thing - suppressants will rot you from the inside out if you're not careful. If you don't let a natural heat occur, it will only be worse in the long run. (Although you suppose he probably had a greasier, grosser reason for telling you that.)

And rot you from the inside they have - all your natural reactions to a heat, all your normal bodily functions don't work properly, when confronted with something they haven't seen in years. You know within seconds of your suppressants flushing out of your system what's going on. You're still in the pre-heat phase of things, and you feel like you're dying. You aren't, and you know you aren't, but you feel nauseous and feverish and incoherent within an hour tops. Only long enough to let you panic and send a text to Miguel that you can't watch Gabi like you'd planned. That you're going out ad you won't be back awhile. You leave your phone in your room, when you pack your bag and head for the nearest somewhat reputable hotel that you can afford. You brace the door with the dresser, explicit instructions left for the front desk to, under no circumstances, contact you for the next week.

You get an order of pre-made meals to slap into the fridge, water and juice and all sorts of drinks and things shoved haphazardly inside once the bot brings it in through the window. You're barely coherent enough to retain control to crush the landline, rendering it inoperable, before you barricade the rest of the room.

You're definitely not in control when you nest, blankets and pillows and clothing all thrown haphazardly around as you go fully out of your gourd.

You're damn well out of your mind by the time you would have normally realized the card you were using was in Miguel's name.

(another very brief line break in this portion for drama but also so I don't hit any limits)

Miguel is pissed when you leave so suddenly.

Sure, he's been avoiding you, and sure, you aren't actually together, but you're his damn it. You don't know it, and sure, he's not going to acknowledge it out loud until something happens, but you can't just leave him and your child and his child who loves you high and dry like that!

It's laughably easy to find you, to find the hotel you've checked into. He doesn't even wait to figure out the reason you left, he's so quick on his honestly kinda toxic bs.

Gabi is left with Peter B and Jess for a bit, and Miguel is honestly so smug that he finds you so fast. You were so sloppy about it. So quick to leave that even though you left your phone behind, in a moment of clarity, you barely bothered to take back streets. You used his own damn card he'd given you to pay for the hotel for two weeks, and to order food.

If he weren't half out of his mind with concern and anger about how quickly you left, he'd be angry you used the card without asking like you normally did.

(His hind brain purrs with it though, knowing he's provided for you)

He doesn't know what did it. Miguel genuinely doesn't know what he did to earn your ire in such a way, but he can guess. He doesn't think it's how cold he was, in the beginning, but he isn't sure that it's not how he'd warmed up to you. How, when he'd let his guard down without realizing it, that he'd flirted with you. Had that made you uncomfortable? Had every 'innocent' brush against you turned you against him? Certainly, it could be his absence, his sudden coolness and stonewalling. It could be how he refused to look at you, when you were in the room. Tried to hold his breath after he'd realized what he was doing.

He doesn't really listen to Lyla when she tries telling him things. He heard where you where, found out the room, and swiped a key before Lyla could finish talking about vital signs and behaviors. She knows to set his alerts to emergency only for the foreseeable future, because she's figured it out much quicker than he has, and she figures she'll at least spare herself the trouble. Gets Gabi set up with Jess for the night, and is on her way so she doesn't have to deal with what's about to go down.

He's surprised by the dresser in front of the door, when he tries to get in the first time. It's easy for him to move - he just lowers his center of gravity and pushes his way into the room, slamming the door shut before he can inhale.

The hotel room is nice, with a kitchenette and a small entry area with a couch and a television. The bedroom is just tucked out of sight. Exactly what he expected when he'd heard the hotel's name - he'd never been, but he recognized it.

And it's when he inhales, that he realizes why.

Your scent hits him hard and fast, chokingly sweet in the back of his throat in a way that makes his hindbrain roar. His pupils blow wide, and if he didn't have such a strong self control, he'd have torn the damn door off its hinges looking for you.

He remembers, in that moment, why he recognized the hotel. It was one that was best known for its handling of customers in heat and rut.

NSFW INTERLUDE

(We're gonna start with general headcanons and go back into the specifics of the scenario in a sec but it's all relevant fjasdkl;)

Miguel is a Dom-leaning switch, he prefers to be in control as often as possible, regardless of whether he's topping or bottoming. Nine times out of ten, he wants to fuck his partner until they're an incoherent, babbling mess, because he enjoys the power and control it gives him, enjoys the dynamic of it.

As he gets more comfortable with a partner, he's more willing to accept the idea of subbing, enjoying it more when he has someone he trusts behind the wheel, so to speak.

(Because yes, Alphas can be subs too - that's a whole thing I could get into and might if someone asks)

And Miguel, even normally, is already a possessive guy. He's needy, and stakes his claim, and when we're talking about abo Miguel?

Sheeeeeesh

The moment he scents you in the air, the moment it clicks in his brain that you're going through a rut or a heat, it goes straight to his dick.

He damn near loses it, fighting not to tear the door off its hinges as he stalks to your room. Your scent is so strong in the air that even though he knows he should turn around, he still at the very least wants to make sure you're okay. So the sight of you, face down, ass up, fingers pressing into yourself, he almost loses his damn mind.

His pretty little wife/husband/spouse coworker, his crush, is an omega. It's almost too good to be true, and he can feel his fucking fangs extend, his mouth watering as he stares at you. You're too blissed out to even realize he's there, slick dripping down your thighs like a fucking faucet... and his name is on your lips.

He could cum untouched, could die a happy, happy man after seeing this.

He has dignity, and self control though, even as the force of your hit heats him. He's genuinely concerned, a moment later, his instinct to breed to claim tampered down by his need to care.

You cling to him, hazy, feverish, and incoherent. You beg him to claim you, to mark you, to fuck you. Miguel wants to, he does... but he instead kicks his shoes off but otherwise stays fully clothed, his cock so hard it hurts as he grabs the closest bottle of water, and an ice pack, and climbs into your haphazard nest with you. He probably should have left by now, but instead he seats you against him, your back pressed to his chest, and he presses the ice pack to your forehead, ordering you to keep it there as he makes you drink water, sip by sip.

You whine, and beg, and squirm, but you obey.

He fucks you on his fingers, once he's gotten some water into you. Hard and fast, leaving you breathless, tense, until you cum all over his fingers, oversensitive as he fingerfucks you into another one, and another, arms like steel wrapped around your waist as one hand pounds into you, the other wrapped around your dick or circling hard on your clit. It's not enough to genuinely sate your heat, but it's enough to help. And he doesn't trust himself to put his own mouth to use - barely trusts himself to speak, even though most of what he growls into your ear is, strictly speaking, complete and utter nonsense as he's caught in the moment. Every time you cum, he praises you, telling you how good you are for it. How sweet you look, with tears streaming down your face, cumming so well for him.

When there's enough coherency for you to have a conversation (but not coherent enough to be mortified), Miguel is able to get the rough gist of the situation. He really can only piece together that the heat is going to be a strong one, that it came fast, and that you had panicked. There's a confession, to be had there. He agrees to help you through your heat, but only under the condition that you're his.

It's toxic, and of dubious consent at best, but he'll pull as many orgasms out of you as needed to keep you coherent enough to talk to him. He's helped an omega through a heat or two, and he knows what he's doing. He's not exactly clearheaded himself, in making the decision - but he does make sure that this is truly what you want before he proceeds.

When he's sure that it's not just the heat speaking, that you truly do care for him, that you want him to stay even after your heat has subsided, he allows himself to indulge.

Sympathy ruts are common, and it builds slowly inside of him as he indulges in his instincts. Holding you, kissing you, pressing his fingers inside of you over and over and over again until you pass out. He keeps you wrapped up in the nest, adding his shirt to the mix while you sleep, but not trusting himself to completely strip quite yet.

Miguel is an attentive alpha.

(While you sleep, he excuses himself from the nest to call his daughter, to assure her everything will be okay, and he just explains simply that you'd gotten sick, that you needed him for a bit, and that he'd be back once you were feeling better. He promises to call every night, and he works out a schedule with Peter B and Jess in the meantime.)

(When you overhear him, voice so soft, so protective, so gentle, it half makes you want to swoon, and half want to climb on his lap and fuck yourself stupid on his cock until he fills you up so you can give his daughter a sibling.)

This man is going to spend a good majority of his time pre-sympathy rut fucking you open on his fingers and his mouth. He wants to make sure you're ready, wants to make sure he can enjoy this for as long as possible.

By the end of it, he makes sure to fuck you, nice and steady, a hand on your throat and his lips on yours. He makes sure you're nice and coherent for it. He wants to make sure you remember it, when he claims you. When his (fucking horse cock, the dude's packing like ten to twelve inches which is great for my chubby bitches like me) dick fills you up so full that you're almost certain you'll break, hiccupping and sobbing as you keen and wail, the nest below you soaked as he fills you up. His fangs sink into your neck and you cum, right then, his hands grabbing your thighs so hard he's sure it will bruise. He fucks you through your orgasm, knot catching until it slips inside. He rubs your clit/tugs on your dick as he finally knots you, making sure you cum just one more time for me, cariño.

normal Miguel definitely has a claiming and breeding kink, so it's fucking intensified by ten when he's omegaverse Miguel... let alone when the man's subject to his rut. You'll be covered in scratches and bites and hickies by the time you're both coherent enough to function properly again.

Which... for Miguel, is a solid few hours of coherency at a time.

For you? You're only ever coherent in short bursts, and it's like the peak of your heat constantly for almost the full week.

This next bit just mostly borders on nsfw/has some nsfw parts so i'll put it at the end here before going back to sfw

Like I mentioned before, Miguel is a very attentive alpha.

He's going to fuck you seven different ways in an hour with his superhuman stamina, but he's also going to make sure to actually take care of you.

He makes sure you drink electrolytes and water in equal measure, makes sure you eat, and sleep, and he bathes you himself, carrying you into the shower and keeping you pressed against him as he massages your muscles and washes your hair and body with a soft cloth, using completely unscented soaps and shampoos so it doesn't overwhelm you. Presses bandages to your scrapes and bites so you'll heal faster. Cool cloths and ice packs and fever reducing medicine.

He finds he has to bribe you, during this time, even for the most basic tasks like eating and drinking, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy having to plug you up with his cock just to get you to eat wasn't hot as hell. The fact that you need him so badly you'd rather forgo basic necessities... it's addicting. Granted, he doesn't actually let you - he's got enough control that he can make sure you're taken care of in all regards.

Back to SFW time!

After your heat itself passes, you're subject to the suppressant sickness that comes with it. Your fever has broken, but you're still nauseous and dizzy and fatigued as your body flushes everything out of your system.

Miguel is beyond pissed when he finds out why you're still sick.

It's reckless to not even have a natural heat once every six months, let alone taking your suppressants so solidly that you hadn't had one in years. If he'd known, he'd have said consequences be damned and would have bitten you the moment he walked through the door, and taken you to the hospital.

He doesn't care how embarrassed you are, when he packs all of your things back up into the sealable bags, and dresses you in his own clothing. He's almost out of his mind when he takes both of you back to HQ - only just remembering to take back corridors to the medic so they can check you over properly.

You've then got two spider people who are pissed, as the medic rants about how dangerous that was, how stupid it was that you did that, instead of just swallowing your pride and letting them help you control things. They order you on house arrest for a full month, to make sure your body can recover properly. No suppressants, no scent blockers (at least the medical kind) for a couple years, and only medicine that's medically necessary, and even then it has to be monitored more carefully.

Miguel lets the Medispider tear you a new one for a moment while he steps into the hallway, giving you privacy and space to figure things out with the doctor while he catches up with Gabi.

When you're done with the Medispider, it's not a question on if you're staying with Miguel or not - you really don't have a choice in the matter, he tells you. When you're recovered, you can decide if you want to move in or not, but until then he was going to personally keep an eye on you.

Gabi, who lacks the complete understanding of the why and the how behind it all, is just glad that the person they've been trying to scheme their father into confessing to is actually going to live with them. (Even if only for about a month.) She grins smugly when she realizes you smell like her dad.

Miguel lets you have pick of the house, when he carries you back to his beautiful, cozy suburban home. He leaves the proper tour up to Gabi, as he carries you both, letting Gabi tell you about everything excitedly. You stay in his bed (you two had claimed each other, and although Miguel does give you the option of your own room... you'd rather die than lose the comfort that comes with being around your mate.)

Miguel cooks properly for you while you stay with him and Gabi.

No more prepackaged meals, he sneers, instead making you chicken noodle soup from scratch, with bone broth and lots of vegetables. Breakfast every morning before he takes Gabi to school, tucks you in to sleep while he pops into the HQ to check on things. He's out of commission from missions while he cares for you, but he still makes sure things go smoothly. He's home by lunch, sometimes bringing you fast food instead of cooking so you can have your fill of a greasy burger or fries or something to sate the part of you that needs something unhealthy and indulgent. Holds you in his lap while you both eat, watching TV on the couch.

He finishes his work and goes on emergency-only mode when it's time to pick up Gabi from school. He tucks you into the passenger seat if you feel up to it, buckling you up himself and pressing a kiss to your lips, even though he doesn't need to. He knows you can buckle yourself up, and lets you do so when you insist, but it makes him happy to know he's taking measures to keep you safe.

He does force you to take a blanket with you, just in case though.

When all three of you get home, he makes dinner, sometimes with Gabi helping him, sometimes you, sometimes just himself. He has a pretty wide range of foods he ends up making, but it's primarily because they're foods he likes, or Gabi likes, and he learned to make them. He's a good cook, overall.

It's the best work-life balance he's had in a long time.

When you're better, he all but begs you to stay.

And god, how could you say no to him?

(Also for those who it matters for, if you do end up pregnant from the Heat Adventures he obviously loves kids and would love one with you, but if you don't feel ready/don't want to have kids other than Gabi, he absolutely respects it, and will talk about options with you. Granted, he'll be disappointed, but at the end of the day it's not something he CAN'T move past. Discusses birth control options with you almost immediately when the two of you get intimate again.)

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara spiderverse #spiderverse #strawberry writing #strawberry headcanons #also on god if i find any minors in my notes or in my inbox i'll maim you #i might turn this into a proper fic at some point #but you get the really long headcanon/rambly version that's all just ideas for now #because i like to feed my followers and the tag #gotta contribute b/c theres some damn good fics ive read so far #smut #i gotta update my tags smh #great news everyone i got wildly into this one #so it gets posted early

259 notes · View notes

weebsinstash · 11 months

Note

I WATCHED IT. YOURE SO RIGHT. Miguel would hold you down and rail you so good and if you struggled he’d threaten to bite you and put a baby in you WOW I can’t believe I left the theater pregnant!!!!! 8:30 showing, only adults watching, someone audibly moaned at a certain part

I've been experiencing something I'll dub Prompt Sluttiness where, I'll get an idea, and I'll really want to share it, and I wind up just sharing the concept and talking about it instead of actually writing, and I feel like it can be counter productive or that I actually have reached the point where I have to focus on tasks now

BUT ANYWAYS TO TURN AROUND AND DO IT AGAIN, I haven't watched either Spiderverse movie so I only know a handful of things, but like

I've been starting to hatch up a really specific idea that absolutely refuses to leave my head where, you know, Miguel is doing his thing running the Spider Society, minding his own business in Nueva York, and you know, either scouts or his computer or whatever is all "beep boop this alternate universe has a spiderman AND a spiderwoman? Actually one just died, womp" and Miguel decides, "well ok that sucks, better go check on that other spiderwoman since theres only one left and that universe needs a protector" and he gets there and it takes some time before he finds you clumsily swinging through the streets, clearly just getting a hold of your powers, and he just kind of, rolls his eyes. You're kind of a disaster, he better help you out before you get shot at by cops

But when he approaches you, the second you see his face out of the mask, all sense of color drains from yours. You're just a tearful, sniveling mess at the sight of him, barely forming sentences and looking up at him with big wide tortured eyes. And he tries to take you to his own Nueva York to "show you the ropes" and have you take some pointers from similar spiders, and maybe he even finds you a little creepy. You're relatively quiet but you can hold a decent conversation with everyone EXCEPT him, where you fight to avoid looking him in the eyes and you start tearing up at the slightest provocation and his Spidey Sense has caught you staring at him more than once. Why are you so weird?

But then you're sent back home and he can't help but wonder how you're doing, if you're still trying to train and improve, because you had been awfully anxious and reluctant about, something, he's not quite sure, he wasn't as hands-on with your case as maybe he should have been. And after a certain amount of time, maybe you were meant to report back but didn't, or he gets reports that there is tons of crime in your universe's city and you're suspiciously absent, not donning the mask at all, and he pulls up your address and goes to find you

Your apartment is barely kept together. Some surfaces have thick layers of dust, dishes in the sink, laundry unwashed. He's busy thinking in his head that you must be a pretty mediocre hero if you can't take care of yourself.

And he passes a framed picture that makes him pause, feeling his blood go cold. One of the only decent surfaces in the apartment has a collection of photographs and mementos, but what catches his eye the most was what was at the center. A photograph of two people looking like they're absolutely glowing with joy, and the man looks all too familiar, a silver urn with a name engraved besides it, and a sealed envelope. You had been in an apparently very intimate relationship with this universe's version of... him.

And suddenly his Spidey Sense goes off in that familiar feeling and he whips around and, there you are, hovering from around the corner, surprised and shocked he's in your apartment as your eyes drift from between him and the photographs and trinkets he's looking at. Suddenly he can understand all too well the pain in your face when you look at him. Miguel, YOUR Miguel, had been this universe's Spiderman that had died. And here you were, the one left behind

...one who's pregnant. Your clothing had been very baggy and unflattering when he had met you before and it was only a couple weeks at most, but now it's months and months later and you approach him with the roundest biggest baby bump and gently, oh so weakly tell him, he needs to leave, you can't see him right now, and you refuse to look him in the actual eyes as your face is coated with tears. His mask is down and you can barely glance up to see the way he suddenly can't stop looking at you, and you can't stand it. The sight of him is too upsetting. It brings back too many memories of what you've lost. You can't help but look at this man in front of you, who looks and sounds and SMELLS the same as your own beloved, and your heart aches, thinking how your Miguel never got to meet his baby, or even know what the sex was

And you open your quivering lips to ask him to leave again when he just. Slowly puts a hand on your big round tummy. And you can't bring yourself to stop him, thinking of how terribly you wished he was YOUR Miguel. And he looks at your face with those broken eyes and weeping heart and under his palm he feels your baby suddenly kick and his heart MELTS. He's crouching down to put his ear to your belly and you're just crying quietly at the sight, at how many countless nights you wished you could have this, how you could see and hear and talk to him again, and you sob at Miguel, even if it's a different one, clearly caring for, maybe even already loving, your unborn child

You open your mouth to tell him that you're sorry, you're so sorry you can be Spiderwoman right now, that you can't risk your baby, the only piece you have left of, him, but O'Hara stops you. He doesn't need to hear another word, he already understands and more. He's insistent on bringing you to HIS Nueva York, not just for your protection, but your baby's protection and wellbeing, too, and you really have nothing to lose since, you've already lost what was most important to you, and maybe there's more than just a little exploitation and manipulation of the fact your new mentor and "savior" just so happens to have every single pore and hair of the father of your baby

Part of you screams that it's wrong and you're betraying your former beloved when you and New Miguel start bonding and spending lots of time together, since he's always checking in on you when he isn't busy, always making sure you've had good hearty meals and all your cravings are met and, are your feet sore, do you have a headache, whatever you need, he's willing to get it for you. He's devoted, almost like, a husband, and there are times when he's speaking of the baby almost like he considers himself its father. You've caught him calling it "our baby" more than once

You even open that sealed envelope with him, that ultrasound of the pregnancy you never got to open with YOUR Miguel, the ultrasound that would have told you and your husband the sex of the baby. You swear he tears up every bit as much as you to see that it's going to be a little girl. He becomes clingy after that. He basically can't stand being apart from you. He's fussing over you all the time, but now, he's slowly becoming more aggressive towards others. Are your eggs a little too salty? He's snapping at a chef that too much sodium is bad for you and the baby. A Spider swings by, getting too close for his liking? Suddenly he's chokeslamming them against the nearest surface and raving about how they should know to be more careful, didn't they see that a pregnant woman is here?! What if they had knocked you over or hit your stomach?! Which wouldn't have been very likely with everyone's Spidey Sense but he's starting to become unreasonable when it comes to you

You see the signs and maybe you're afraid. You need to go home, to your REAL home, and get away from this man. As much as you wish he was, he isn't the Miguel you knew before, and maybe you're finding yourself starting to project and transfer some of that affection onto this new man, and you're not sure how to feel, whether to consider it real love or some unhealthy manifestation of trauma. The more aggressive he becomes, the more people he puts his hands on, the more you wonder, would he ever hurt YOU?

And the day comes where he catches you trying to sneak into his hideout and use his computer to send yourself back home and he's just got this barely contained quiet rage where he's speaking to you in near-whispers like it's taking everything he has to not be screaming. You flinch when he comes close and he doesn't like that, and softens, starting to try and talk to you, laced with all his theories and delusions. The hormones from the pregnancy are just making you more paranoid. It's good you want to protect your baby but it's SAFER for you here, don't you know? Oh, you're looking so scared and stressed, and that isn't good for you OR your baby, and you're torn between fear and some fucked up traumatized form of love to the point where you can't move away when he comes to separate you from the controls and ruins your plan.

And he'll rub your shoulders just like how you're used to and speak to you in such a sweet and caring voice as he sees, you're just scared, CLEARLY this is why it's so great and NECESSARY that he's looking out for you. Your resolve crumbles when he holds you and you take a deep sobbing breath of his personal scent and remember smelling this on the bedsheets when you woke up together with your old Miguel.

You're just crying and crying because you're not sure what to do and you feel the clothing around your neck being moved and, a prick, just ever so quick and gentle but you're still looking absolutely shocked and betrayed as Miguel pulls away, licking a little bit of blood off his lips.

"Don't be scared: my venom won't affect your pregnancy. I've already run the experiments to make sure."

And you're becoming paralyzed, the venom combining with your overwhelming panic as you're feeling your consciousness fading, knees wobbling as Miguel cradles you like a fragile, precious egg

"I would never hurt our baby like that. Just trust me. I'll take care of you both."

#atsv #yandere stuff #sinprompts #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere x reader #*plants my flag here especially after reading hes like 6'5* large man scary and hot #also shoutout to the queen who moaned. valid

153 notes · View notes

stanlunter · 5 months

Text

Why Amity is a bad character

Not my post, Ive just translated it, but I can't agree more

This can be called not even a hate, but a perplexity, since Amity as a character is not integral with us. It's like a solid plot hole hastily glued into a ready-made idea of the series. Let's take it in order.

In the first episodes with Amity, she is shown as a bully (when she poured shit on Willow), always competing with everyone's nerd (remember the episode where she couldn't stand that at least someone was better than her in abominations?) and in general, something like a kind of Draco Malfoy from the world of the Owl House. Even the twins Edric and Emira Blite quietly disliked her, as they considered her an arrogant reptile, shitting other students out of boredom. And so it was, in fact.

But then they started showing us Amity from the other side, and then the first inconsistencies began. In the series with the library, where Amity read books to little witches and other fabulous creatures, it struck me for the first time - like, all this time, Amity had a soft nature hiding under a mask of arrogance, but her brother and sister didn't even know about it and considered her just a harmful bastard? Okay, okay, let's say. But then we learn from Amity's memories that she was always good and Willow left only at the request of overbearing parents who were against their friendship. I'm sorry, what? I remind you that at her first appearance, Amity mocks Willow when no one is around, clearly enjoying it herself. Who forced her to do nasty things then?? And anyway, if Amity had a kind nature from the very beginning, why would she mock and laugh at others? She would have walked around with an arrogant look and that was it. My parents told me not to be friends with witches of a different status, and not to bully everyone who doesn't like them.

And after Luz and Amity start dating, Amity transforms incredibly radically and quickly. And I'm not talking about the hairstyle (which was much better in the original version, imho). She completely changes her worldview, her behavior, her plans for life, after all. And everything would be fine, but... These events take place in one summer. One summer, Carl! In one summer, an arrogant witch who loves to bully others, trying to be the best at everything, dreaming of becoming part of the imperial coven, turns into her absolute opposite. And do you know what I can't understand about such transformations? Footing. What is it like here? Okay, Amity fell in love with Luz, but why did she suddenly change ALL her principles for her? After all, she had somehow justified her dreams, her goals for herself before? Before, she really wanted to be the best, to join the imperial coven. Or how did it happen according to the creators - the evil mom ordered Amity to wish for certain things and zombified her, and as soon as the good Luz came, Amity immediately realized everything in the world and was filled? The same Hunter is shown much more realistically, we see he has an incredibly strong motivation to change, and then he doesn't do it in two episodes.

Damn, how much Amity doesn't fit into the story can be seen by the end of the first season, when we have an awesome important event and the main characters have to risk their lives to rescue Ida from captivity. And Amity did it in this fucking important episode in the finale... absolutely nothing. A few episodes before that, we were shown how Amity falls in love with Luz, worries about Luz, is already crazy about Luz, but when Luz risks his life in the center of events, Amity just lies at home with his injured leg and watches everything on magic TV. Like, seriously, man?? They didn't even bother to put it in the plot. Logically, she should be one of the main characters, but in fact she looks like a typical cardboard "girlfriend of the main character", like helpless half-naked girls from films about some Indiana Jones (I have nothing against Indiana, but the girls of gg in those days were really mostly cardboard in the background). In the following seasons, there is a place for Amity, but it doesn't get any better - she continues to look cardboard, a girl who can only scream about her love for Luz. Who gave up all her goals for the sake of Loot, but she didn't come up with new ones, and now her whole life revolves around Luz, while Luz, like gg, quietly lives her life and solves her problems. In the last episode, she has a job, she succeeded her father and works with abominations, but kamon, did it ever mention before the third season that she wants to take over his profession?? No. Starting dating Luz, she loses her personality, and all that remains of her is the delight at the sight of Luz and perfectly correct conscientious decisions, which do not go well with the image of Amity from the first series.

And it's impossible to call it Amity hate, because if you hate, then who exactly? We have three completely unrelated witches: The arrogant bully Amity, the kind Amity, Who Suffered From Evil Parents/Friends'/"Substitute An Excuse" and finally A Madly In Love Amity Without Her Own Goals And Principles. Which one of them to focus on, speaking of the image of Amity, is not in my heart. And yes, it's kind of sad to realize that at the beginning of the first season, Amity had a normal image that had chances for good development, a gradual realization that she treats people incorrectly, a GRADUAL transformation from a spoiled pest into a good friend for Luz and company, into a good secondary character. Even with falling in love with Luz, it was possible to do something interesting - to show how Amity rushes between two fires, tries to date Luz without quarreling with her family, wants to combine an affair with Luz and joining the imperial coven, eventually realizes that this is a failed idea and suffers from having to quit either a family and a dream, or a loved one... And as a result, all the potential was poured into the toilet for the hyper-accelerated development of a "serious romance for life" between two 14-year-olds. And Amity just follows Luz like a goat on a string, completely changing her life and her personality for the sake of a man she has known for less than three months. Yeah, very plausible.

#the owl house #toh #unpopular opinion #toh criticism #toh critical #Anti amity blight #Wish she was written better #anti lumity #If ut counts bc it's one of the reasons I dislike it

57 notes · View notes

gaylordscooter · 20 days

Text

Log of the Multiverse: Blue (aka me, sans t. skeleton)

Originally this was supposed to be an entry on ink but he didn't really like the sound of he wanted to write his entry himself when he had the time to. so i decided to write about myself instead.

it's kinda funny, i should've made this the first entry maybe. it seems pretty self-centered to write an entry on yourself or would it be self-centered to not write an entry? it'd be like assuming everyone already knew who i was.

my name was sans. first name sans, last name, i shit you not, skeleton. pap my brother thought i was joking when i told him it was, in fact, our last name. of course i had to let that name go once i lost my home. i was given this nickname by ink even though it's not mine to have

i didn't lose my home to error, or any outcode for that matter. it destroyed itself, to put simply

according to ink, there were "too many plot holes" and "contradictions" that ended up breaking it. "unfinished" he said, like my world was just someone's drafted story.

it was.

speaking of ink, they're the reason im able to write this in the first place. he dragged me out of my universe right as it collapsed. honestly that whole series of events was a blur, i remember running away from temmie, who just got all six human souls and was trying to kill me along with the other stray monsters that managed to evade the human's murder-spree. i thought temmie was my friend. i question why ink rescued me

my universe was a "swap" universe, meaning in the original universe i was more like my brother and he was more like me, for example. but i've met the sans from "underswap" he's fairly different from me. i've also met versions of my brother when i went to the omega timeline and im still different from them too. like. more different than they are from each other

i assume that has to do with the instability of my universe, ink did nickname it "botchedswap" after all (flattering name, i know)

ever since ink rescued me from my universe i kinda just stuck by his side. i joke that he's my "universe taxi driver" but (i REALLY hope he doesn't read this) he's my best friend.

he's a better friend than temmie ever was. that's for sure

but sometimes i feel like when he looks at me, he's not thinking about me. it's like he pretends im someone else. i remember when he first called me "blue". they didn't say it like they just came up with that nickname, they said it with familiarity.

like it already belonged to someone else

and it did, it belonged to the guy before me, the guy im a replacement for. i was so mad. i was infuriated, at ink, for using me as a replacement. but then he explained his side

it was like his mask of ingenuity cracked as he told me. he was guilty. he's been guilty. and i was their solace

i'm his attempt at repentance

it made sense why dream and i aren't that close, he didn't want a replacement and i'm hardly a good one too i can't count the amount of times ink looked at me weirdly for saying something blue wouldn't. he misses blue, the real blue.

[the paper's damp here, as if drops of water was spilled onto it]

i haven't really been talking about myself, have i?

before my universe destroyed itself, i was in the process of studying to become apart of the royal science division, i was getting training from undyne alphys oh god which one was it someone. i, i think i got in? at one point. i remember celebrating getting in, but that doesn't sound right.

meanwhile my brother he [the writing afterwards is completely scribbled out and illegible, the paper's somewhat torn from how intense the scribbling was]

im forgetting.

#blue's (totally not diary) log

45 notes · View notes

vourequat · 3 months

Text

— Dottore.

“I've watched you change” — Change, Deftones

You had to admit.

Zandik was one of your peers whom you've watched change from a boy to a man, he was one of the friends that stayed long with you as you did with him. You both grew into the best versions of yourselves but as changes came it made you more confused if you really knew the Zandik who stood in front of you, he was so different yet you couldn't pinpoint where he went south.

A sweet boy with ambitions bigger than him was killed and crumpled into nothing when the Akademiya declared his expulsion, he loved to learn and teach but the institute deemed him a danger with his inventions.

You tried to defend him.

"Zandik... you could just turn off the core and we can always go back to what we used to" you appealed as you held his hand that was shaking on top of the core that powered a field tiller that you both found underneath the deserts.

He looked at you, he was confused— he was still a boy after all.

His red eyes shine off unidentifiable emotions as he continues to eye you and the robotic figure down as if he was making decisions in his pretty little head that was capable of making such beautiful creations, creations that (by his words) were too complex for the Akademiya to understand, "You don't get it... you too?" He breathed out as he seemed to be in a brink of hyperventilating.

You held his hand tight.

"Zandik, I have always understood you but... I... I don't know if I can continue to try" you admitted.

He stopped, from those words he realized his mistakes... he was harming you, his best friend.

"You can always go back... I'll talk to grand sage himself and you can go back once your creations are dealt with—" before you could make your way to the building of education you both once dreamt of finishing in that now was tainted with their regressive ideals, he held your hand tight.

"It's fine... I can't stay somewhere I can't be as ambitious" This was so unlike him, he would only turn his back at the institute once he found a better replacement.

"The Fatui... they offered to help me create more of my work if I work for them, isn't that amazing?!" He laughed.

The Fatui?

That was the very last thing you thought of Zandik's possible last resorts ever since you heard that he was officially taken off of the lists of scholars, but if seeing him flutter into his greatest potential then so be it.

Ever since you two were young, you ought to help each other to attain your limits and use your skills all the way through. You believed that leaving off some skills in the dark was a waste and a disgrace to the god of knowledge who has gifted it upon the people of Sumeru, but if this is what pulls the real Zandik out unlike the Akademiya who had always been cutting off the scholars feet just so they can't walk towards their potential yet crawl with false hope of reaching so, if this was what Zandik wanted— then it's what you want.

"Zandik... just... be careful"

It was the very last words you could remember from your last meeting with the blue haired genius as you watched him come back to the Akademiya and Sumeru altogether but he was so... off.

He was still handsome... charismatic and exuded that aura of a genius but it was no longer Zandik who walked the ground that you once ran around as kids— it was Dottore.

You began to take slow steps away from the blue haired Fatui, you were also stuck in the cycle of the Samsara but luckily you were no longer under its control after long been catching up with the loop of your day but it was a dead end. With Fatui guards blocking your way out after catching on your unusual behaviour for someone under their unruly loop, you tried to fight back of course yet you were no match to killing machines.

With you in their arms, they brought you to their superior.

The large smirk on the man with the beaked mask slowly disappeared when his eyes dropped towards you, surprisingly, he still remembers you.

"How interesting..." He leaned down towards you as he studied you.

"Smart as always, how fast you are to find that you are in a loop" He laughed as he stood up in his full height.

You tried to squirm your way out of the guards grasps yet it was no use, "This is unjust, Zandik!" you spat out.

He stopped.

"Zandik... never heard that name in years" He breathed out as he loomed over you.

A simple gesture from Dottore, the guards left you two alone in the darkened room. Slowly, the heels of his shoes clicked as he approached your chained down figure.

"You left me..." He said under his breath.

It was true, you left him, he let you. You told him that you'll let him do whatever he wanted as long as you weren't pulled into it, you had a family to protect while he had none— a harsh truth he needed to hear when he uttered those names.

"You left me when I needed you!"

"I'm not the only one who left... I mourned you for years when you just let me leave you like we had nothing!" You cried.

"Zandik... I've watched you change"

"I've watched you change for the better and for the worst... I tried to keep understanding you but I just couldn't anymore when you joined the Fatui, the very people who our people feared!" You yelled through gritted teeth.

He knew about how horrid the Fatui was ever since but he was just so blinded by his ambitions that he couldn't see that he was slowly becoming what he promised to never be, everyone in his village called him a monster all because they couldn't understand him and when you came and perfectly acknowledged him and recognized his genius but then he ruined it all because of his dreams yet some of it was your fault... you fed him words that made him pursue his very best, to push himself to his limit but maybe he has overdone it.

"I only did it to protect you from them..." Was all he could muster with his voice weakened by incoming tears.

"I only did it to protect our dreams—"

"You only did all of this because of your stupid ambitions... none of this was about any of us... it was all just you and your dreams!" You presumed.

He felt as if the floor slowly disintegrated into nothingness as he felt so floaty, it wasn't the feeling of freedom rather it was dread, the dread of the realization that you too had given up on him. You were his only hope, his hope that dimmed the more you two grew apart from your differing views and paths.

He thought that you would get him, that you would support him through anything from the words you assured him with. Words where you told him how his dreams were too complex for the Akademiya to recognize, you fed him all of these words to the point that he fully believed that what he was doing was right but slowly he descended into madness... into perfection as the Fatui says.

He thought that if he joined the Fatui and impressed them well enough you'd be safe from them but he was incredibly wrong— you weren't even safe from him.

"The people were right... Zandik..." You cried.

"You're a monster"

A/N: I don't remember the entire Sumeru archon quest anymore but at least I fed the Dottore whores (me included) and also you're probably wondering how the fuck I made this...

me too. I wonder.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin fanfic #genshin dottore #genshin zandik #genshin angst #send asks #what the fuck is this

25 notes · View notes

inkangeliguess · 2 months

Text

Oh my god, I absolutely LOVE The Nightmare route in Slay The Princess

Spoilers plus long rant under the cut

(@the-local-eldritch-microwave please check out this game i beg of you. It's several hours long but its great)

Ever since I saw a playthrough of the demo, the Voice of The Paranoid was my favorite voice and route. I love stressed out characters in general, but I loved how unsettling it is when you uncontrollably fall asleep and then wake up only to die of fright. The second time you go in was pretty anticlimactic, as basically the same thing happens with only the Paranoid being there and the Narrator being completely confused at your sudden death AND even saying "I'm so sorry"

What makes the updated version so good is the execution. The first part is basically the same, but the second part is so much more intense. Your character just experienced dying of literal fright over someone you first assumed was normal turning out to be an eldritch horror. Story wise, the Voice of The Paranoid makes you feel this with how much of a contrast he is compared to the Narrator and the Voice of The Hero. The Hero gets nervous occasionally, but never to the degree that The Paranoid gets.

This stress only continues when you go inside the cabin. Every second round, the cabin always changes in appearance. What makes the Nightmare route's change more jarring is how mild the change is. For the Razor, the Damsel, and the Captive (the routes i've rewatched so far), the change of the cabin is too extreme, which while it does convey the mood of the route, doesn't have the same effect as the Nightmare. The room itself seems to 'perfect,' with the most obvious difference being the wider door frame and overall lack of door. The subtle change plus the Paranoid's overall mood keeps the player on edge.

Things start ramping up once you get to the stairs, which don't even try to be subtle with its attempt to hide the overall unnatural feel of the cabin. Then it hits you with the reveal that you are stuck. You can't go back. You can only go forward and confront the inhumane Princess.

You're finally in the basement, which does a fantastic job of conveying the idea that once again, you're stuck. You do not have an actual choice in the matter. No matter which way you go, you are going to be hunted down by this creature and you will most likely be killed.

The moment of truth happens and you finally confront the Princess. While she was unsettling in the first chapter, her appearances have been completely twisted. Her limbs bend irregularly, her face is cracked and shaded in a way that makes it look like it's not even her actual face, her appearance constantly flickers and looms over you, giving you the feeling that you have no power over her, weapon or no weapon.

Finally, you start talking to her. She almost kills you again, until the Paranoid suddenly, without explanation, starts mumbling "Heat. Lungs. Liver. Nerves" over and over. You don't even have time to question it, because it somehow is keeping you alive, but barely. If you choose to talk to her with all the 'Explore' dialogues, her unsettling demeanor never wavers. The conversation feels realistic, with certain actions causing the Paranoid to start panicking and chanting desperately.

The last thing i'll point out about Chapter 2 is that the Hero and the Narrator hardly talk. It's as if they themselves are frightened of the entire situation. That is until she pulls off her mask. You don't get to see what she looks like, but the Narrator's description is more than enough to give it its effect.

Then there's the artstyle change. I originally thought it was just to convey you dying again, but it really changes the name of the Route. The Narrator's description and the visuals give the idea that this may not only be your nightmare. The Princess is most likely suffering as well.

Then after all of that, THE NARRATOR HIMSELF GIVES UP. You are left in a state of not being sure whether you're dead, but your mind has clearly given out.

We then move on to chapter.. uh... "The Moment of Clarity." You wake up, and for once, everything genuinely feels wrong. One could argue that in The Arms Race and Mutually Assured Destruction turned everything on the head by adding pretty much all the voices, but everything is thrown off in The Moment of Clarity. You're not even in the woods, or in the cabin for that matter, you're somewhere else. It's a place that vaguely feels like the woods, but it isn't. On top of that, the Voices can't remember what happened very well. Their memory isnt completely wiped, but the fact they have trouble remembering at all is completely new.

Not only do the voices not remember what happened, pretty much all the voices are talking now. With all their contradicting personalities, it's unclear what the truth is. The timeline is everywhere, the Narrator is no help, and there is still no feeling of safety.

"Maybe you're shattered in your own way." OH MY GOD THAT LINE ABSOLUTELY SLAYS ME (no pun intended). Even if it's swept under the rug by the other voices "not being philosophical," considering the stakes of the route, it just messes with me

My one complaint is the Voice of the Smitten. It's usually funny how down bad he is but it seriously is not fitting for the route at all.

It's interesting how they all consider the Voice of The Cold to be the voice of reason in the moment. In the Narrator's words, all the other voices have been traumatized to the point they can't be talked any sense into. Since the Cold is just so unfeeling, it's pretty much your characters only drive into move on except for maybe the Opportunist.

For once, none of the Voices question the mirror, not because they've accepted that there is no mirror, but because they've accepted that the Narrator thinks there is no mirror. It gives you how much of an idea that the Voices and in extension your character has given up. Hell, the Voice of the Stubborn even tells you to smash it at one point.

Something i havent mentioned much of is the music or sound design, but it really helps give off the atmosphere. In this 'third' chapter, the background music is a ticking clock and a breezy noise you may hear in a quiet room. Paired with the surreal landscape of the black forest and the floating cabin, it further gives off the idea of everything being a dream, or by extension a nightmare.

When you're told to pick up the blade, you're once again stuck. You aren't given any other choice except for the illusion of a choice. Some of the options are even blacked out, saying that 'you've tried everything else. Don't you remember?'

The way she climbs out of the pit. You only see her face at first, then her abnormally long and lanky arms. Then you see her legs, with her bare feet looking like hands, reminding you of a spider or a monkey, but definitely not human. She isn't interrupted once she's in full view, leaving you to stare at her and her outstretched hand and cracked mask.

Remember how I mentioned that in the demo, the Narrator is so shocked by your sudden death that he says 'I'm so sorry.' There is now a complete contrast with this new version. When you take her hand, he ends off his sentence by saying "I can't believe you just made me say that. I hate you." and with full sincerity, not even in a joking or petty manner.

"Why is it so cold?.."

#long post #slay the princess #stp voices #stp the nightmare #stp the voice of the paranoid #the voice of the paranoid

25 notes · View notes