#the fact that this only has one note is such a crime
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The garden. (Fem Priv investigator reader)
An: Oh god... I hope that this wouldn't FLOP 😭 I made this blog entirely for practice writing in the 🌹 romance 🌹 department 😨 And in honor of choosing miss Coquelic as my pfp... I'll make her the first experiment for this fic... Slight nsfw/suggestive towards the end...
After receiving orders from the chief, you wind up investigating the Garden. A secret assassin organization that was run by a sinner, that sinner being Coquelic, who is the one that you are NOT supposed to meet, since you do not have enough resources to defend yourself from the sinner, but also have not been given permission to arrest the suspect. You found out the FAC commissioner that was supposed to investigate this case was killed of by the members of the Garden, making you feel a little uneasy. They're going to be after you next if you were to overstep their territory... Which, you don't plan on doing at all.
You were only to investigate and figure out how they were able to commit such crimes in a short amount of time. You are very aware of the gap between you and the others, you were not like Adjutant Nightingale, and definitely do not have the shackles of the chief... You feel insecure. Insecure about how you do not have the abilities of the others, enough to protect yourself from any imminent danger coming from the perpetrators... You heaved a deep sigh. Reeling from the fact you were brooding and weren't doing what you were supposed to at in the first place. Making you snap out of it and get back on track.
At the sudden notice from the chief that I'll be facing the Garden's leader, I began to pace back and forth due to the sudden turn of events a day after being assigned to investigate the Garden. I couldn't resist asking that why it wasn't her...? You didn't have anything to defend yourself from such a strong sinner, so how are you supposed to deal with her when you are in fact, powerless? The chief picks up on your nervous state, then the chief assured that she'll be there to stop her from doing anything to me. That wasn't reassuring at all. Regardless, I attempt to keep a cool demeanor, masking my anxiety. In an hour or two, I will be facing the Mentor. I have to calm down.
An hour later, the time has finally arrived. You began to make your way into the interrogation room to see chief before starting the interrogation. The chief and I had a small chat, she as always, gives me that gentle smile, it almost alleviates my anxiety, but the nerves were starting to get to me. It didn't go unnoticed by chief, who patted my shoulder as if to ward off the nervousness that plagued both my thoughts and body. She hands me important documents, I thank her and asked her a question.
"Chief, before I enter the room... Is there a reason why it should be me instead of you...?" You cursed inwardly at the way you sounded a little too timid... The chief's soothing voice registered in your ears, soothing the soul and making your shoulders free from the stiffness it once held. "It is because Coquelic asked for you specifically. She didn't state the reason why." It made me feel weird hearing it, especially the fact that I never have even met the Mentor before, so how did she come to know me? Could it be there is an ulterior motive behind this? Had she planned to kill me to taunt the chief...? They have intelligence on everyone, so it wasn't far fetched to assume that way. I am the weakest link in the MBCC, after all.
I heaved a deep sigh. Finally entering the room. Her eyes immediately met mine, making me tense up immediately. It had this... Peculiar glow that made me feel odd... But alas, I still had an interview to conduct so, I sat down in front of her, and started asking a series of questions. Taking notes at the chief's advice and notes about previous interrogation, I made sure to avoid asking questions that can provoke anger from the Mentor. Her eyes had not once left my figure during the whole interview, making me overthink things once again. Perhaps she is waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike... But I wouldn't give her the benefit from inviting herself in for an easy kill...
After finishing up the interview, I hear her speak. "You seem to be tense during the whole interview. I do not bite." I stayed silent, eyes on the papers still. "Look at me. Am I not good enough for you?" I snapped my eyes at her, blinking rapidly, and my mouth agape from shock. The Mentor smiled widely. She enjoyed your reaction very much... "Good. I'll have you know that you should feel blessed that I have graced you with my presence. It is uncommon for people... Especially for you to see me in broad daylight." I gave a small nod. Replying politely. "...It's an honor to meet you." I kept it short, as I didn't want to do something that can make her feel displeased with me.
"Loosen up. You're doing it again." The mentor attempt to soothe me, standing up from the chair and inched towards me. Making me stiffen more at the slowly approaching figure. "You should know that I don't intend to harm you, dear. I only want to get closer to you..." Her voice is silvery. Making me cautious of her true intentions...
"Thank you for the assurance, Mentor." Making her look a bit frustrated at the mention of her title. "Oh, don't be so cold... Investigator. You can call me by my name..." In a honeyed tone. I don't buy it. "As you wish, Coquelic..." Coquelic can sense the hesitance from your tone, making her brows furrowed in sadness(?)
"What does it take for you to trust me that I mean what I said about bringing you no harm...? Do I not seem trustworthy at all...?" Her tone was thick with emotion, I was alerted by the chief about her surging mania level... I had to diffuse the situation. I needed to act fast. I looked back at Coquelic, who seemed to be growing more and more affected by my silence... I hastily responded, "I... I am not used to meeting people like you... Coquelic, I am nervous about dissatisfying you due to my bland persona, I didn't mean to upset you."
Her eyes then softened, returning to it's usual state instead of the hostile expression. "I see... Then, you don't need to act so stiff around me. I wouldn't think less of you if you somehow managed to anger me." She sounded so sure about it, that I couldn't help but tilt my head slightly in confusion. She smiles at the action, before standing right in front of me, grabbing an orange blossom out of nowhere, my eyes follow her hand, as she tucks it on my ear gently.
"An orange blossom, a flower that symbolizes chastity, purity, and loveliness. Do you perhaps see me as pure..?" I inquired, reaching to touch the flower. She warmly smiled.
"You can think of it that way, but I prefer... The definition being, lovely. I think you are as lovely as a flower. This flower describes you best." Making my cheeks have a slight tint. Coquelic doesn't miss the effect she had on me. "...Thank you for the gift." She waves a hand dismissing my thanks. "No need to show much appreciation for such a small gift. There will be plenty more from where it came from. Visit me in my garden, I can provide you with something far more better." Her inviting voice enchants me, prompting me from being unable to decline such a lovely offer.
"I'll see to it if I have the time..." Her next response caught me off guard. "Oh, dearest... You needn't not to worry about such trivial matters... What is important to me, is that I'll ensure it, that you may be able to come to my garden, no matter what.."
She sounded almost possessive, that broke the romantic aura that had surrounded the room. I cleared my throat, shoving my gloved hand on my pocket, as if to reach something in my coat pocket, but in reality, I was calming my rapidly beating heart. I didn't want to fall for her charms too easy, I had to get a grip of myself. For all I could know her sweet words are tainted with poison. I'd rather not engage in such matters... But the hearts speaks for the soul. It does not calm down after my attempts to get it to beat normally.
I stood up, dusting off my coat and adjusted my tie... "I must go now, the interrogation is over. You may resume to what you originally sought after, miss Coquelic." She frowned, at the sudden formalities being reintroduced back to the conversation, again. I flinched as a cold hand reaches to grip my wrist. Preventing me from leaving. "I thought we've already established a relationship? One that excluded formalities, dear?" I suppressed the urge to shiver, my pulse speeding up once more... "I... Apologies... I am not feeling well." She replied, shooting me a knowing look. "Are you perhaps not feeling well after I had flirtatiously asked you on a date, dearest investigator? Is that it?" Her bold proclamation had made my cheeks burn. Now, it was obvious that it is likely.
"I... This is inappropriate. I cannot engage in fraternization, especially pursuing a romantic relationship with someone who is... In a higher standing than me." The way you worded it made you more appealing to the woman, causing her to caress the flesh on your wrist, making an effort to breach your defenses, her hand gliding through the fabric of your coat, making you feel more of her touch... You swallowed thickly, pushing away invasive thoughts about... Her actions. "This is what I like about you, darling... You don't see me as less, you see me as more. Better than the others who do not see me in the way that YOU do." She purred, invading my personal space.
"Can't you see that I desire you, dear investigator? I've been watching you for a while now... The moment I laid my eyes on you, you were always mine to possess. From the start, and until the end, you are mine." I couldn't help the way that it frightens me and makes me feel things at the same time... Making my breath uneven at the confession... "H-how long have you been stalking me?" She grins, unfazed by my poor word choice. "Ever since you were at the FAC... You got promoted into a higher position, you saw how Sinners were being mistreated, you resigned from your position immediately after the incident... Beloved, can't you see? I've fallen for you. It goes deeper and deeper the more I get to see you..." I couldn't help but tremble at the realization that she had been watching me for awhile now. She is responsible for my paranoia.
Her eyes had glowed darker, seemingly growing more infatuated at the officer, her hand gripping her wrist in a manner that held a deeper meaning that had the officer feeling caged. "Do you remember visiting a greenhouse? Where you take care of the flowers day by day, unknowingly charting towards the garden's territory... Do you recall the day that you had chosen to gift me with such, beautiful flowers? I swooned at the way you cared so much about them. Thinking that there will be someone who are to take care of the flowers... You left the greenhouse, full of life, and I couldn't resist accepting such gifts..." She sighed dreamily, clearly recalling the moment.
The chief had used her shackles to restrain Coquelic and calm her mania level. I hyperventilated as the chief went inside and pulled me out of there. I thanked her, and immediately handed her the files, I abruptly left the room. Coquelic glared at the chief for interrupting her precious time with her investigator, demanding angrily to take her to the officer. Chief uses the power of the shackles to calm her down. After managing to bargain Chief into seeing her dear investigator once more, she finally complied with the Chief, happily thinking of her dearest...
After a week, I was tasked by the Chief to accompany Coquelic outside of MBCC. On a mission. I was hesitant to accept but Chief had convinced me to take the mission. So, I met up with Coquelic... And she had disguised herself as an officer... You were still pretty shaken up about the whole event last week, so it was only natural that you became tense at her once again; making her feel frustrated at going back to square one. But of course, she didn't want to show it, it might scare you away from her again. So she decided to approach it with a different strategy this time.
"I dressed up as a fellow officer just for you, investigator." I feigned surveying our surroundings just to not meet her eye. She notices, making her mania level slowly rise up again. But you can tell with the way she is looking at you, making you let out a shaky sigh. She did not miss the way your attempt to calm your shaking hand... Making her feel more... Incompetent and feel her efforts were in vain. I attempt to lighten up, chuckling awkwardly. "For me? Hahaha... I see. You wanted to replicate my occupation as a private investigator?" She smiled, satisfied at her own actions. "You may interpret it that way, but I did it to rid you of the tense atmosphere that had once clouded the room during last week."
I wasn't trying to think about what had happened in that time. But to think about her efforts in wanting to get close to me, I feel... Oddly touched in a way. Coqeulic felt that her plan is working, making the atmosphere lighter than before. We carry on with the mission; the mission being to stop a riot nearby... After stopping a riot nearby, with minor injuries, we were now walking back to the MBCC. I can feel her eyes on me, staring intensely at my figure. "Investigator, your hand... It's bleeding." She pointed out, I took notice a second late. Her eyes was starting to darken. Someone had lay a hand on their darling. They wouldn't let that slide.
I watched as Coquelic took a hold of my injured hand, swiftly cleaning the cut, and bandaging it neatly. I thanked her, to which she responded "Anything for my dear investigator." It made my cheeks turn slightly red. She was happy at the result. "Do not fret. I shall deal with them accordingly when they are to meet me back in the MBCC." I shook my head, wanting no conflict. "It is alright, Coquelic. It is merely a small injury." Making her gasp in disbelief. "My dear...! It is not a minor injury... It is a large cut in your palm...! Do not perceive it as if it was a paper cut..." She sternly scolded, making me sheepish.
"I... You're right." We were now walking in an empty, abandoned alleyway, making the atmosphere between us... Feel... A little hot. Again, Coquelic takes advantage of this situation to talk about... You.
"Dear investigator, have you picked up gardening again? I saw the arrays of rare, and unique type of flowers in the Garden that I have never seen before in the MBCC's mini garden. Making me freeze up at the mention, as if caught like a deer in headlights. "I... Yes, I have picked it up again once more." I say in a small voice, failing to hide the embarrassment at the mention of my hobby. "I enjoyed the display. It was neatly arranged, almost as if you meant to woo me once again unknowingly. You and I have a shared affinity of flowers, my dear. You know very well that I am also well versed at the language of flowers, just as you are..." She affectionately said, making my cheeks grow more redder than before. She continued, "The arrangement were a ray of basils for good wishes, then a ray of red carnations, a sign for deep affection, the last one being pink camellias; longing." Making my blush worsen at how she was able to figure it out.
"There's no escaping you, is there?" She softly purred. "There isn't, my dear. I now know how you feel about me..." She takes a step forward, cupping my cheek delicately. "I return the same affections as well, but I would add red camellias for being a flame in my heart, white clover for you to think of me all the time, heliotrope for eternal love, and lastly red salvia symbolizing that you are forever mine..." She whispered so sweetly, making me tremble at her touch. "Isn't it romantic that we reciprocate feelings of love towards one another? But my love is different from yours." Her face inched closer to mine. "My love, I want both of your heart and soul. Your body is a temple that I aim to worship." Making my knees weak at the statement.
"Coquelic... You know that we mustn't engage in romantic affairs... It is forbidden to enter in such a relationship." My breath hitched, putting my hand above hers that caressed my cheek. She had gotten rid of her hair tie, the police cap, and the sunglass she wore earlier. She stared amorously, further strengthening the growing intense atmosphere... "You don't understand... I want you. Badly. I ache for you to surrender yourself to me. I desire deeply to claim you as mine." I couldn't take it anymore. I smashed my lips against hers... Making the first move. She smiles onto the kiss, deepening it further.
Her kisses stole my breath, deeply imprinting how deep her love had went for me... I whimpered in her mouth as she prodded her tongue into my wet cavern, making her hum in approval. We finally pulled away for air. She craved for more. I want her too. I let myself be enclosed by her body, leaning against the cold wall of the back alley... My cheeks were now scarlet red, mouth agape, enticing her to dive back in... "You look so endearing... It's like you are asking me for more..." I surprised her with my response. Voice laced with need and want... A plead that had activated her carnal desire... "More... Please?" Her scarlet eyes had darkened. Her next words arousing me more... "I'll make love to you in a manner that will make you come crawling back for more..." I couldn't resist to pull her back in for another heated round of making out.
#path to nowhere x reader#ptn x reader#ptn#path to nowhere#Coquelic x reader#ptn Coquelic x reader#Female reader
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Can I request a dynamic where the reader is the youngest Graves sibling (like a year younger than Ashley) and is objectively the most "normal" of the siblings (before Ashley and Andrew kind of ruin it)?
She's still clingy with her big brother and sister, but she's also happy to make friends outside of them and actively cares about them a lot. The thing is that Andrew forbids her from dating and Ashley scares off a lot of her friends and when quarantine rolls around she's stuck with two older siblings who are obsessed with her and she's not too sure what to do about it, because her siblings really are all she has left now.
Bonus details, I think it would be fun if her relationship with Andrew is bordering on romantic/he has romantic feelings he doesn't admit to but shows (sleeping in the same bed, holding hands) and he dotes on her a lot as the youngest. However, this strains her relationship with Ashley, who is used to having Andrew to herself before the youngest sister was born, but also loves reader (platonically, maybe transitioning to romantically) because she's never done anything but love Ashley unconditionally.
So it's a complicated thing where Ashley's possessive of both but also scared they'll get together and abandon her, Andrew is extra possessive and protective of reader but denies it to hell (as he does), and reader is slowly realizing some things about her siblings that she really should've realized much, much earlier...
notes from coff-in: GRRRR IT'S LIKE YOU LIVE IN MY MIND!!!! oh to have two possessive and obsessive older siblings who love you way more than a normal sibling should, not like i'm complaining, hahaha! i'm sorry these asks are taking so long... i just wanna hang on to all your wonderful asks and daydreaming about them indulgently!! even so, i hope this was to your liking and thank you so much for requesting!!
[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is 1 year younger than ashley, talks/mention of incest, brief NSFW
I love you more than I should...
Andrew and Ashley did not know why their mother thought she should have a second child. Maybe this was an accidental pregnancy.
When [reader] was old enough to walk and talk, Mrs. Graves delegated the responsibility of raising her to Andy, who was around maybe four or five years old at the time. He tried his best to keep them both happy and satisfied, but it was obvious to the keen few that he paid extra attention to his baby sister. Leyley wasn’t used to not having Andy’s full attention on her and expressed her hatred of the new status quo by picking on her little sister.
When [reader] would try to make amends with Leyley for whatever crime she committed, it shocked Leyley. She remembers when she was playing in the forest one day, picking on the bugs in the dirt, and having her little sister [reader] walk up clumsily to her with dug-up flowers in her hand.
“I’m sorry I made you upset, Leyley. Please don’t be mad.” Leyley picked on her less after that and a heated argument with Andy. In fact she tried to hang out with [reader] more often and tried her best to be nicer to her sister. She was someone besides Andy that she could call a friend. It wasn’t uncommon to catch [reader] following her older siblings like a lost puppy, eating lunch and studying with Andy or drawing and playing around with Leyley.
The other kids found it strange how [reader] would willingly hang out with Leyley. She was so normal like Andy was. She was sociable and had friends that she hung out with from time to time… until Leyley drew most of them away. The only ones that stuck around were Julia and Nina. Maybe [reader] knew that they were just using her to get closer to Andy or maybe she believed that they genuinely wanted to be her friends.
Once Nina died [reader] stopped putting herself out as much. She clung much closer to her big siblings and they were happy to dote and comfort her. Leyley made it so that [reader] promised with the blood pact she would never love anyone else but her and their bother.
As they got older, in middle and high school [reader] started to come out of her shell again. She tried to make some new friends but Ashley, again, did her hardest to scare most of them off.
“What do you need other friends for?” She’d ask [reader] when they see each other during the day, “You have me and Andy! You don’t need anyone else!”
It’s not like Andrew was any better himself. His possessiveness was less visible to others but it was still there. “Ashley’s right, sis. You don’t need to worry about making friends right now.” (God, to be the object of affection between these two <3)
He didn’t like the idea of [reader] dating. He knew it was wrong for him to think of his sister like this, but he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. He’d never admit that he got off on the idea of being her first; her first kiss, her first boyfriend… To avoid the jealousy he knew he’d feel if [reader] dated he simply told her that she wasn’t allowed to do so. Any arguments that [reader] had about him or Ashley dating (mostly about him dating Julia) were casually swept aside with the excuse that he’s older than her.
Ashley doesn’t like Andrew dating Julia. He can’t leave her! Does Julia really think that she’s better because Andrew can fuck her and not Ashley or [reader]?! While Ashley leaves 200 violent voicemails for Julia, [reader] calls Andrew a lot during his time in college to ask if he could come home.
“I miss you.” [reader] would say in that low, pouty voice that’ll tug on Andrew’s heart and make his cheeks red. “Could you come back this weekend to visit?”
And he’d say “Of course.” because he could never deny his little sisters.
Once they’re stuck in quarantine, Andrew and Ashley start showing (or at least then [reader] starts noticing) their more possessive and… weirder nature.
They’re always with [reader] except for when [reader] has to use the restroom. Ashley’s making [reader] do some chore with her or Andrew’s subtly holding [reader] close to him when he’s smoking on the balcony. Ashley would make her teasingly suggestive comments about [reader] and Andrew would immediately shut them down while avoiding looking at [reader] because he does think that they have a merit to them.
Andrew sneaks into [reader]’s bed when the nightmares come and cuddles up to his baby sister. He holds her close in his arms and rests his face on top of her head or in the crook of her neck or on her chest with her chip over his head. He relishes in her warmth and takes deep inhales of her scent to comfort himself.
Whenever [reader] does chores, he pats her on her head and says that she did a good job and that he’s proud. [reader] insists he praises Ashley too and it makes her heart pound a little faster and harder.
Skip over to Episode 1 when they break into the cultist apartment, Andrew tries to avoid having [reader] see what’s up. [reader] is reasonably freaked out and upset about having to dismember and EAT a dead guy until Ashley proposes that she’d just starve to death. Andrew argues with Ashley about letting their baby sister starve and would probably insist with Ashley that [reader] should eat the dead cultist.
Ah, this is going to be very lazy of me but I’m going to skip over to the Burial vision scene. In the vision, the siblings see themselves (all three of them) post-coitus, naked and marked up by each other. (Very self-indulgent but [reader] would be placed in the middle of them)
Andrew’s an embarrassed mess because holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!
He fucks his sisters. He fucks his baby sister, [reader]. He’s as elated as he is scared… she’s not like that. She wouldn’t fuck him. She wouldn’t fuck her older siblings and she wouldn’t want them as much as he wants her… would she?
Ashley’s never really considered [reader] in a romantic light like that, but she doesn’t mind it at all. Having [reader] close to her and Andrew like that brings a warm comfort to her.
With the way the trinket works, [reader] probably wouldn’t be able to see the vision since she can’t touch it when Andrew and Ashley are holding it in their hands. She’d be sleeping on the couch, waking up when she heard Andrew and Ashley yelling about the argument.
I wanna write smut about them having a hot incestuous threesome so badly but I’m losing steam right now. They all confess their feelings about each other and kiss tho. By the time Episode 2 ends [reader] has been sort of worn down by Andrew and Ashley’s weird feelings that she’s like “Yeah I’d fuck my siblings because I love them!”
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coff-in
#cobweb in the coffin#tcoaal#the coffin of andy and leyley#tcoaal x reader#the coffin of andy and leyley x reader#andrew graves#ashley graves#andrew graves x reader#ashley graves x reader
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Double Doctors! William Hartnell has a terrible time as wounded robber Jeff Richards, while Patrick Troughton is the unnamed (and uncredited!) tramp who finds Jeff's hiding place in Dial 999: 50,000 Hands (1.16, ABC, 1959)
#fave spotting#dial 999#classic doctor who#william hartnell#patrick troughton#doctor who#classic tv#itc#1959#or possibly '58; as I've said on the other Dial 999 posts‚ establishing a definitive transmission order is nearly impossible with tv from#this era. most sources agree this was the 16th episode shown‚ but a date isn't given anywhere but imdb‚ which provides only 1959 but has#dates scattered all over the place for other episodes in the show's run.#something of a fave spotting find‚ this! doctors one and two together in one episode of old tv‚ years before DW even existed#sadly the two‚ although technically in scenes together‚ never share the screen; in fact they never did‚ with Hartnell too ill to appear in#studio for DW tenth anniversary special The Three Doctors. he's in very fine form here tho‚ completely different to his other Dial 999#appearance (1.1‚ where he was a dangerous gangland leader). here he's a slightly sorry crook who's accidentally shot himself in the guts#he spends most of the episode wracked with pain and i must say Bill's very convincing and quite sympathetic. of note‚ his decidedly less#likeable partner in crime is played by Bill Fraser‚ Hartnell's costar in The Army Game (the first series of which had recently finished#when Dial 999 began airing). presumably a conscious choice on the producer's part?#Pat meanwhile has only a brief appearance here‚ playing a character imdb inexplicably identity as 'Benny'; I'm almost completely certain#that name never appeared in the episode‚ as he's mostly referred to simply as 'a tramp'‚ and it certainly doesn't appear in the credits as#Pat isn't credited (not unusual in early ITC shows which tended to credit only five or six key performers in an episode)#he gets a little comic business to do as he tries to evade Bob Beatty's tireless cop‚ and delivers his few lines in a rural accent of#indeterminate origin. apologies that i can't provide better pictures but network's dvd release‚ while welcome‚ doesn't appear to have had#much in the way of restoration (and who knows in what condition these eps survive; if the original films are still held then they'd be#potentially able to get a full shiny hd resto‚ but it could always be that the archived eps are overseas tapes or other inferior copies#i just don't know tbh! there simply isn't a huge amount of info out there about this 65 year old obscure cop show! for shame everyone! /jk)
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people in the notes of that boycott post acting like academia is this wholly separate thing from the state lmfao. this is an even more insane claim to make about the social sciences, which are one of the main faculties being boycotted. what social scientific research do you think is being produced in a settler colonial state actively conducting genocide? like there is such a wildly out of touch perception that social scientists & humanities academics are these vanguards of progressivism holding the hordes of ignorant conservatives at bay. the decades-old reactionary claim that the university is a commie hive-mind has been fully internalised by the general population. social science departments are some of the most right wing places I’ve ever worked in precisely because they are an extension of the state. whether they’re publicly or privately funded, research grants and student funding and hiring decisions and research agendas and equipment purchases and conferences and software licensing are structured to accommodate the desires of the people who fund them. the fact that they do a land acknowledgement before teaching you how to produce optimal statistical models and crime maps for local police departments doesn’t mean these places are somehow less materially implicated in oppression. academia is an intellectual arm of the state and the only moral response to israel committing unprecedented levels of violence murder and destruction is to boycott said arm of the state
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#the way some of yall treat asopted siblings are so fucking weird#like even not 'legally' adopted for whatever reason#for context the siblings in question have has one sibling confirm the adopted one is her brother#while the younger one still obviously thinks of him as a brother but just hasnt said it#even the author is just like. their relationship is stated through context no they would never date bc theyre siblings#theu even compare their pre broken relationship to a crime fighting duo that are close brothers#like. saying 'oh they never said they were ti each other'#do You see your sibling and just say everyday 'thats my brother' in detail#especially in this case how its even stated in canon that people will either see thwm as siblings#or only see them as rwlated through their martial dynamic#stop coming up with the characters denying something theh dont have to#if youre going to put two siblings in relationship at least own up to the fact youre shipping siblings#incest tw#like. dont come up with stuff the author has explained throughout the story why certain things cant happen#the mother wokld never allow him to bw adopted is the first thing#the second is she triwd to prevent them from being close (still explained In Canon)#another is that one is being called a servant his whole life and thinks hes not worthy enough to call them siblings#the other (in canon) is too emotionally constapated to explain his feelings verbally#the fact that the author herself wrote a note through the character basically saying theyre siblings and visit each other regularly#and youre Still just like 'b-but I DONT THINK theyre siblings 🥺'#grow up#just say what you mean#max rambles#like it hits too close when youre saying if youre not biologically related youre not siblings#if youre not legally adopted into a differene household to take the same name youre not siblings#Say. What You Mean.#you want to ship siblings without the biological aspect for whatever reason#you think in/cest stops at just biological sex#god i hate the internet sm sometimes#whwn the people in the language its native in with anti in//cest ideas is saying theyre siblings. they Are Siblings
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FAMILY (OF SORTS) — Platonic Fatui Harbingers & reader.
i. SUMMARY: The Fatui Harbingers have a soft spot for Arlecchino's child.
ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!
iii. NOTES: STRICTLY PLATONIC, headcanons, fluff, parent!arlecchino, house of the hearth!reader, all of the harbingers are reader's weird aunts and uncles, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.6k words.
iv. A/N: the fatui are just a dysfunctional found family and i will die on this hill. shoutout to @romaritimeharbor for listening to my rambles about this idea 🫶🫶 also pierro and pulcinella aren't here because i could not think of anything to write for them :')
All of the harbingers knew about Arlecchino’s child; the one that appeared in Fatui Headquarters stuck to her side, eyes cast to the floor. They all saw the way that Arlecchino had held a soft grip on their shoulder, guiding them through the halls with the gentle touch of a parent from the gentle hands of a monster.
The Knave always swore she didn’t play favourites, but from an outside view it was clear that they held a special place separate from the rest. Anyone could see the way they appeared so much more frequently by her side. They were permitted to sit in on meetings, following her like a shadow. Some of the Harbingers guessed that she had picked them to be her successor; that their frequent shadowing was training them to take over once she was gone. Others joked about Arlecchino’s apparent soft side taking over. Whatever the reason, time went on, and the Fatui saw more and more of them.
All of them varied in their opinions of them—some indifferent, some fond—but the Harbingers all cared for them in their own ways.
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Columbina simply adores them. They’re just so small and cute, so tiny and fragile! Admittedly, her idea of ‘tiny’ is rather skewed—applying to anyone she deems weaker than her (notably, this label also gets given to Capitano and Tartaglia, despite their larger size and physical strength. The Damselette is truly an enigma.)
Whenever Arlecchino allows her to watch over them, she is delighted. She has a penchant for pet names, so ‘angel’, ‘my sweet’, and ‘lovely’ are all more commonly used than their name. Sometimes there’s a ‘baby’ or ‘bub’ if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but no matter the name, it is always dripping with sweetness. She’ll sing to them too, to calm them down or get them to sleep. Her voice is gentle, laced with as much love as she would show her own child.
Some Fatui believe Columbina is a woman formed from hollow sweetness; that behind the lazy smile and soft voice, lies a callous and unfeeling heart, but her insistence on singing them to sleep comes from a place of genuine affection.
When they have to return home, she’ll kiss their cheeks and sweep them into a hug, making them promise to visit her soon.
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The fact that Arlecchino would tear out his throat with her bare hands if he dared to look at them the wrong way is the only thing stopping Dottore from roping [Name] into one of his experiments. Even then, he can’t help but investigate them a bit. Nothing extreme—please put the knife down, Knave—just some simple trials to see how they work. A quick strength assessment, a test of their reflexes, enough to judge the effectiveness of the House of the Hearth’s training.
The segments all had different opinions of them, varying from Prime’s general indifference to some of the younger segments fondness towards them. The latter were less likely to try to trick them into the lab—not that Arlecchino would allow them anywhere near it without strict supervision—and instead focused their efforts on convincing them to help mess with the rest of the Dottores. They proved to be an excellent partner in crime to thoroughly ruin the older segment’s day.
Despite his assertion that he won’t harm them, Dottore tends to be the one Arlecchino trusts least around her child. His unwillingness to get on her bad side doesn’t stop her from insisting Columbina or herself accompany them whenever they visit his lab.
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Tartaglia loves them. The days he gets to see his siblings are few and far between, so he’s always eager to play the older brother for them, and for any other House of the Heath kids that stop by. In fact, whenever any of the children visit, he makes sure to buy them plenty of sugary treats and candies before quickly sending them back to their Father.
(Arlecchino was not happy the first time this happened. It didn’t stop him from doing it every time, though.)
He was the first to convince them to call him Uncle, a feat that he bragged about to the rest of the Harbingers. This small incident would inadvertently lead to a petty competition to see who their favourite is, an event that would quickly spiral out of control with bribery and promises coming from all sides.
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Sandrone is very particular with who she allows in her workshop. When the rare guest was allowed inside, they had to follow three simple rules: do not touch anything, do not move unless I tell you to, and do not talk to me while I work. When [Name] first stumbled into the room, she was prepared to discourteously shoo them out the way she did whenever Tartaglia poked his head in to see what she was working on. But after some extensive begging, she relented and sat them down in a corner to watch her work.
Even if she is far less fond of them as some of the other Harbingers, she still audibly squeaked the first time she was called Aunt Sandrone. This was covered up with a cough, but nothing could stop the warmth blooming in her chest. It was the first time a living creature had addressed her with such a familial title; some of her synthetic creations had a habit of calling her Mother, but this was a living, breathing person.
After they started calling her that, she quietly told them they were free to visit when she was working—provided they did not interfere with anything.
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As much as he denies it, Scaramouche has a big soft spot for kids. He’ll swear up and down that he doesn’t care for them at all, but he treats them noticeably gentler than he treats any other member of the Fatui. Arlecchino once caught them huddled against him, using his wide-brimmed hat to shelter from the rain. She never let him forget that moment—the fearsome Balladeer, who notoriously never let anyone close enough to touch him, allowing her child to use him as an umbrella.
They remind him a little too much of the young boy he once considered his family. Whenever he spends time with them, there is something inside that both urges him to protect them in the way he couldn’t protect that child, and warns keep them at arm’s length before they betray him too. But his endearment towards them prevailed, and he begrudgingly allowed them a place in his heart.
Unlike Columbina’s affectionate pet names, the only nicknames Scaramouche gives them are ‘kid’ and ‘brat’, depending on his mood. On good days, they might even get called by their name, though it is a rarity. He cares for them, truly. In his own, strange way.
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Capitano is the best at giving advice out of all the harbingers. He is much more down to earth than Columbina and Dottore, and far less cynical than Scaramouche and Sandrone. He’ll let them ramble about their frustrations freely before offering gentle suggestions on what they should do to help. Even if they aren’t looking for a solution, he’s patient enough to hear out their thoughts, however jumbled and incoherent they may be.
He also likes teaching them skills he deems important for a young person to know. These include cooking—Tartaglia is not allowed to join them in these lessons after he almost burnt down the kitchen trying to ‘help’—as well as sewing and mending clothes.
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Pantalone never would describe himself as parental. He never cared too much for kids; he hadn’t enough patience to deal with constantly crying babies or needy toddlers. Arlecchino’s child was thankfully far above that age, so they were less unbearable to deal with.
He was quite happy to spoil them with extravagant gifts and treats to win their favour, but the most effective way he does so is simply spending time with them. Trips to luxurious restaurants for lunch, allowing them to shadow him while he works. He also likes to give them advice—completely unasked for—about life, and relationships. Unlike Capitano however, his advice is of a much less helpful; he has a habit of advocating for blackmail for solving problems.
In exchange for a box of the most expensive pastries in Teyvat, he got them to call him their favourite uncle in front of Tartaglia. The miniscule dent in his funds was worth the look of betrayal on the younger Harbinger’s face.
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Signora easily took the longest to warm up to them. When she first met them, it was easy enough to label them as Arlecchino’s brat and move them from her mind. But they kept appearing, in and around the headquarters. At first they were always glued to the Knave’s side, but eventually Signora began to see them wandering alone through the halls. She took note of them—not out of any attachment to them, only out of self-preservation knowing that if Arlecchino found out her child landed themself into trouble while she was close by, it would be her funeral soon.
The sense of obligation faltered when she started to grow fond of them. They were irritatingly innocent, a rarity within the Fatui. Something about the spark in their eyes reminded her of when she was young—when she still had warmth in her heart and blood in her veins. For the first time in centuries, her frozen heart began to thaw with care towards another person, and begrudgingly, she began to accept that they were not as unpleasant as she once believed.
reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
#watch this be wildly ooc when the harbingers get introduced#✒️ — writing#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#platonic genshin impact x reader#platonic genshin x reader#platonic x reader#fatui harbingers x reader#fatui x reader#arlecchino x reader#platonic arlecchino x reader#dottore x reader#platonic dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#columbina x reader#platonic columbina x reader#scaramouche x reader#platonic scaramouche x reader#sandrone x reader#platonic sandrone x reader#signora x reader#platonic signora x reader#la signora x reader#pantalone x reader#platonic pantalone x reader#capitano x reader
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ACT I. THE LADY
amidst the tale of sweetest love and bitterest revenge, the fallen empress is cast back ten years into the past to correct her sins and avoid eternal damnation, even at the price of betraying her once husband, the very cause of her downfall.
♱ pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader
♱ genre. enemies-to-lovers, period piece, medieval au
♱ tags. ooc, regression, crown prince!gojo, noble lady!reader, politics, classism, clan wars, religion (catholicism), slight mentions of gore
♱ notes. 6.5k wc, unedited. again, for anyone who missed my small announcement, the ‘juliet’ from my megumi r+j fic has a name here for narration purposes. she remains as you or yn in the original fic tho :) feedback would be highly appreciated!
series masterlist ♱ act two.
“I humbly beg your pardon, Your Imperial Highness. The lady declines any audience at this time.”
Throughout his princely life, Satoru had never before faced rejection from any of his subjects, let alone one of his own citizens. No one ever dared to deny the Crown Prince as they were aware of the consequences of offending a member of the imperial family, let alone the future Emperor of Caelum.
So, how could this mere daughter of a duke summon the courage to refuse his audience?
It was baffling to him. Were you not the one who had written him a lovestruck letter requesting a meeting? As one of the eligible brides for the Crown Prince and a strong contender for the position of Crown Princess, it was only natural for you to vie for his affection and secure your spot on the imperial throne. You had it all; the status, the power, the wit. You had quite the face, too. This would have been an opportune moment for you to ensnare his favor and win him over. Yet, what reason could you possibly have now to suddenly decline his audience?
“On what grounds did she refuse?” Satoru maintained a stern demeanor as he stood beside his white horse, scrutinizing the servant from the De Roma estate who trembled before the prince. His blue velvet cloak and imperial insignia added to the overall intimidation of his presence.
The maid, mindful of the perils that may befall her for the actions of her master, spake with evident apprehension. “The lady offered no explanation, Your Highness. She simply wishes to remain in her chamber.”
Needless to say, he felt a mixture of amusement and intrigue at this situation. The same noble lady who had previously been forward in her advances and infatuation towards him was now avoiding an opportunity to get acquainted? And to think, he had believed he was doing you a favor by granting you a chance to spend time with him this noontide.
“Very well.” The prince gazed down at the servant with a stern expression, raking his slender fingers through his arctic white hair before mounting his war horse. “Remind the lady that there are consequences for denying the rights of the imperial family. Each slight she casts is an arrow to her neck. Let her know that there shall not be another chance such as this.”
He sensed the maid’s fear after she offered him a curtsy, yet he could not fathom how she remained steadfast in her refusal to grant him access to your drawing room despite his clearly spoken warning. She was guarding the entrance to the estate as though she would face greater consequences for letting the crown prince in than for keeping him out. Were you truly so stringent in maintaining your distance from him?
So be it. If that was your game, then let it be played. In fact, you might be trying to seem hard-to-get after the stunts you had pulled at the hunting expedition two weeks hence. If his memory served him right, you were the one who sabotaged Lady Anastasia’s crossbow and led her in her near-fatal experience. You see, you might have gotten away with it, but Satoru was a witness to your deliberate crime. He had seen you tampering with Lady Anastasia’s weapon, replacing her regular bolts with ones laced with fast-acting poison, which left the poor lady paralyzed in the middle of a dangerous hunt. Had it not been for Satoru, Lady de Florentine would have likely been mauled by a wild boar.
Yet, his intervention only seemed to stoke your ire even more. Your jealousy after seeing him save Anastasia’s life only made you see red, almost revealing yourself the true perpetrator for the obvious expressions you had displayed. Still, he chose to remain silent about your malicious actions, pretending to be oblivious to your cunning ways and dismissing any suspicions of foul play in the incident. In a way, Satoru had saved your life more than you realized. Not only that, he had also safeguarded your reputation and standing in high society without your knowledge, as he understood that your animosity towards Lady Anastasia only stemmed from the way he had interacted with her, speaking in close proximity and kissing her hand prior to the hunting game.
Ha! What a devious little viper you were. What a brazenly proud woman. By declining to meet the Crown Prince, you had only ironically succeeded in piquing his interest even more.
“Is everything in order, Your Highness?” It was his close friend and personal knight, Suguru, who snapped him out of his reverie as they rode their horses back toward the capital. Three more of the prince’s knights trailed behind them. Suguru’s question hinted at concern for the prince’s sanity, given that he had been observed laughing to himself despite the insult he had faced just half an hour ago.
“It is rather amusing, is it not?” Satoru pondered, his hands firmly gripping the reins as he guided his horse along the uneven path. “Lady Y/N might seem out of her wits, but she is astute. I see through her tactics. She obviously desires my attention, which is why she is behaving this way.”
The long-haired knight chuckled with unease. “I fear that may not be her intention.”
The notion appeared absurd to him. “Not her intention? Grant her but a moment, and she shall trail after me once more like a shadow. This is a blessing, if anything. I am now spared the need to endure that lady’s temperament during formal events.”
Did you realize? Despite numerous instances where Satoru overlooked your transgressions, if you were to provoke his ire, he could surely publicly enumerate each offense. The stained dress incident involving Lady Serena? Your handiwork. The scandalous rumors regarding Lady Franchetta? Also your doing. Not to mention your mistreatment of maids and commoners out of mere boredom. Your actions would have easily rendered you an unsuitable candidate as the Crown Prince’s bride, yet he remained silent and never reported such occurrences to his father, the emperor. More than that, he should be relieved that you had chosen to avoid him and spared him further entanglements with you.
However, Satoru’s words contradicted his own sentiments, and he refused to acknowledge his hypocrisy. Although he claimed satisfaction with your decision to keep your distance, why did thoughts of you arise foremost when he passed by a jewel shop that showcased its newest collections? He and his men were traversing the city square when his sky blue eyes caught sight of a necklace with a large, deep-red garnet as its centerpiece, surrounded by intricate gold filigrees, and a single teardrop-shaped pearl dangling at the bottom. The overall design was bold and commanding, yet undeniably elegant. A befitting accessory for Caelum’s next crown princess.
“Would you care to inspect the jewel shop, my lord?” proposed one of his knights. “That necklace could serve as a splendid gift for Lady Serena, who is soon to celebrate her birthday banquet.”
The prince saw his reflection in the shop’s window, his white steed poised gracefully while he gazed at the jewelry on display. A smirk unanticipatedly graced his lips as he envisioned a particular scenario in his head. “Indeed.”
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Milena was cinching your corset when your father abruptly entered your chamber, his visage bearing a questioning mien as his footsteps loudened each second. You already anticipated the nature of his visit, for nothing else would prompt such urgency unless it pertained to your reputation. In retrospect, you remembered him having knowledge of your misdeeds against the other debutantes currying favor with the crown prince, and he was well aware of the details of your crafty schemes and all the deliberate sabotage you had orchestrated. And although your father often covered for you out of paternal pride, he still chastised you for your actions in private. The latter assuredly was the purpose of his visit now.
Well, dear father, your daughter is no longer the same.
“Maid,” commanded the duke, “Leave us for a while.”
Milena immediately bowed at your father. “Yes, Your Grace—”
“No, Milena. You will not take a single step out of this chamber.” Your order somehow surprised the both of them as though you had never sounded so authoritative before, like you had the imperial power and position to be issuing commands greater than your father’s. Ah, right. You were not an empress anymore. Or yet. None of these people were your subjects, and living in the past would really take some time getting used to. In an effort to conceal your years of imperial presence, you looked at your father with a gaze that suggested naivety. “What is the matter, father?”
Duke de Roma appeared visibly strained by his youngest child. “Y/N, is it true that you declined a visit from Crown Prince Satoru?”
You felt the urge to scoff, but opted against it. “Rejection is an understatement, Your Grace. My interest in His Highness has simply waned.”
“So soon?” The elderly man was perplexed by your assertion, considering your reputation as a notorious obsessive lover of the prince. You were perceived by all as the erratic woman who would engage in conflict with any rival who dared to court his affections. “What sudden change prompts you to speak ill of him? Were you not striving to win his favor?"
Yes, but that was before. That was the version of yourself who sacrificed everything for someone incapable of reciprocating the love you sought. Things have altered now, and you recognized it was wiser not to pursue Satoru after knowing and personally experiencing the peril it posed to both yourself and the empire. He would only seek to exploit your family’s military influence to stage a coup against his parents, beguile you with his false affections, and make use of you until you were no longer serving him any purpose. You refused to be complicit in his ambitions any longer. Not in this life, no.
“Rather,” you began with a voice of confidence, “I would choose being in a convent than to wed a man like His Highness.”
Your father nearly fainted from your words. “By Saint Peter’s keys! I cannot understand the youth of today. Tell me, is there another suitor who has captured your interest? Have you found another man more noble than a prince?”
With a smile, you looked at yourself in the mirror and prepared for the day ahead. “No, Father. On the contrary, I seek a life of solitude. If I could remain unwed for the entirety of my days, I would gladly embrace it.”
This, you believed, was the surest way to distance yourself from trouble and seek redemption for your past transgressions. A life without Crown Prince Satoru was the road to attaining highest virtue. Your love for him was the reason you had committed such sins in the past, so the best thing to do in this life was to steer yourself clear from his path at all cost. Otherwise, the thought of facing the piercing gaze of Archangel Raphael again was too daunting to bear.
“What folly is this?” Duke de Roma questioned your words incredulously. “Did you not aspire to become the most powerful lady in the empire? Pursuing the Crown Prince is the path to becoming an empress. Cease this nonsensical talk and continue your efforts to win his favor!”
Once he departed, you were left alone in your chamber, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. You were tempted to let out a groan of exasperation, but with Milena present, you had to maintain your composure. It was crucial for her to witness your changed mindset. Gone was the vicious lady she had served in her previous life. Though you could not offer a direct apology for the role you played in her demise before, you were determined to ensure her comfort and well-being in this new life.
As for your father, you were uncertain what to do with him yet. He was coming from a place of concern, knowing that your decision to enter a convent would ultimately make his investments futile. He had invested heavily in your upbringing, providing you with every luxury, the finest education, and the resources necessary to secure a prominent place in high society. His aspirations for you to become an empress were not solely driven by paternal pride, but also by the anticipation of reaping the rewards of his investment. Losing such an asset would undoubtedly be a significant blow to his plans and ambitions. Yet, he had no single idea what suffering you had actually endured in your past life after becoming Satoru’s wife for 10 agonizing years.
Well, in that case, you had an alternative plan—one that promised to secure the De Roma family���s status and elevate its wealth to unreachable heights without necessitating your ascent to the imperial throne.
“Milena,” you said, walking towards your window, “Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to be.”
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“Fifty celestas?!” Milena questioned in disbelief, her hooded cloak framing her face as she confronted the artist before you. Today, both of you dressed down, adopting a guise that would allow you to blend seamlessly with the throng of commoners in the outskirts of the capital. “Signor, are you not asking for an exorbitant sum? You are exploiting My Lady merely because she is the daughter of Duke de Roma.”
It was a mistake bringing Milena with you, but it also served as a good signifier that the artist, Giancarlo di Firenze, was still operating in an era where his talent and skill as a sculptor had yet to be recognized. In the eyes of others, he was a struggling artist whose work warranted no more than a few trinkets. However, you possessed the advantage of foresight, bestowed upon you by your gift of clairvoyance (or in layman’s terms, a cheat sheet into the future due to your regression). You knew that Maestro Giancarlo’s sculptures would eventually gain widespread acclaim, particularly after they were displayed at the Veneran Museum, and he would be the most sought after artist in the continent with pieces worth thousands. Even your then-husband, the emperor himself, commissioned him for the notable Star Crossed Lovers sculpture for the ten year death anniversary of the prince and princess of the Astheryn and Caelum Empires. The 50 celestas Signor Giancarlo demanded now paled in comparison to the immense resale value his works would command in a decade’s time. This would be one of your best investments as a mere lady with no imperial wealth.
“Fifty celestas for this Apollo and Daphne sculpture seems a fair price,” you mused, scrutinizing each exquisite detail of the remarkable artwork. The sculpture was truly a masterpiece and very much deserving of admiration, which was why in your past life, it was highly coveted by The Venera for its sheer magnificence. However, you refrained from showering the Signor with excessive praise. To do so would only awaken him to the true value of his creations, and he could potentially inflate his prices beyond your budget. Thus, you maintained an air of indifference as you regarded the middle-aged sculptor. “It would make a suitable addition to our garden,” you casually added. “I shall purchase it.”
“My Lady!” protested Milena, but you silenced her with a gesture.
“In addition, I would like to acquire the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and a selection of your cherubic sculptures,” you continued, disregarding Milena’s objections and the delighted expression on Maestro Giancarlo's face. “Pray, how much would the entire collection amount to?”
It was as if he had stumbled upon a treasure trove. The Signor’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he responded to you. “Lady de Roma! What a blessing you have bestowed upon me,” he exclaimed, leaving you sympathetic towards his years of unacknowledged artistry. “The collection would fetch two-hundred celestas.”
Your maid, filled with concern, cried out in protest. “Preposterous! This is a swindle!”
Again, 200 celestas was a trifling sum compared to its prospective worth. Moreover, it was a price that would not significantly dent your finances as a noble lady. However, if you acquiesced to his initial offer without negotiation, he might infer that you would readily purchase any of his other works at its highest prices.
It was a simple game of chess, and he was merely one of your pawns.
“A hundred and fifty celestas,” you countered, maintaining a steely gaze on Maestro Giancarlo as you made your bargain. “Take it or leave it.”
The man voiced his objection, nonetheless. “But My Lady, I have dedicated weeks to crafting each piece.”
Being ten steps ahead, you already anticipated his response, so you offered a compromise. “Yes, yet two hundred for a handful of pieces seems excessive. I will increase it to a hundred and seventy-five. Do we have an accord?”
“But—”
“Two hundred celestas,” you declared firmly, “on the condition that you add a few more cherubim to my collection.”
In the end, he agreed to your offer with an air of triumph as if he had hit the jackpot. He penned your receipt with a sense of satisfaction, believing he had outwitted you with his inflated price when, unbeknownst to him, he had just sold pieces worth roughly two-hundred thousand celestas. The clear winner in this exchange was you, though you kept that fact strictly concealed. Your strategy to amass personal wealth would remain a secret to all, even if Milena thought you had lost your mind paying such a sum for the work of a struggling artist.
And you did not plan to stop there. Your next task was to visit Pietro De Luca, a renowned painter from your past life who had risen to prominence during your time as empress. Like the sculptor, this man was yet to achieve fame during the future period of artistic renaissance. He was the one who painted you and your husband’s infamous portrait at the palace. Unfortunately, though, luck was not on your side when you visited the painter that day, as the man had apparently journeyed to Constantia and would not return for another fortnight.
Ah, well. There would always be another opportunity.
“My Lady,” spoke Milena, standing beside you as your father’s men loaded the sculptures into the spare carriage. “I never imagined the day would come when you would take an interest in sculptures. When did you develop an eye for art?”
To tell her the truth, you cared little for its artistic merit. Your sole concern was its value and the wealth it would bring you in a decade’s time. You could never reveal that fact to Milena, so you offered an excuse instead. “They make for lovely decorations, do they not? They would certainly add to the opulence of the estate.”
Your sentence was abruptly interrupted as a pair of playing children collided with you, causing your hood to slip down and reveal your face. The mother of the children, instead of offering an apology, was too stunned to realize that you were a noblewoman from the capital. They were clearly of lower status than commoners; they were beggars, clad in tattered garments and bearing grimy faces. Your heart twinged with pity, especially upon seeing the mother cradling a baby in her arms.
A poor infant. Almost instinctively, your hand flew to your belly as memories flooded your mind of the baby you nearly had in your past life. It was Satoru’s child, the future emperor of the empire, the sole heir to the imperial Gojou lineage. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it as his own. What would have happened to your child if he had lived? The bittersweet recollection clenched at your gut.
“Please, my lady,” pleaded the impoverished woman, “Any food or clothing would be a blessing.”
To think of it, in your past life, you realized that the commoners harbored resentment towards you for your extravagant lifestyle. None of the luxuries you enjoyed as empress were shared with the masses of the Caelum Empire. They remained trapped in poverty while you reveled in comfort, completely disconnected from their reality. It was no wonder you had incurred the wrath of Goddess Fortuna and Archangel Raphael.
And now, overwhelmed by compassion, you motioned for Milena to offer 50 celestas to the woman, who graciously accepted your gift. The sum would suffice for six months' worth of food supplies. Though you wished you could give more, your wealth was not infinite as the daughter of a duke. Nevertheless, it was the gesture that mattered, was it not?
As you and Milena continued to stroll through the plaza, you could sense the incredulous glances she would cast your way. It must have been strange for her to witness your kindness towards commoners, let alone your act of charity by giving away months worth of allowance to strangers.
“Is it the tea I served you the other morning, my lady?” she inquired, concerned. “You seem to be behaving differently, as if you have transformed into a completely different person.”
In your previous life, Milena’s straightforward comments would have resulted in punishment from you. However, in this timeline, you merely chuckled with her. “Life’s too fleeting to be evil all the time.”
Like an eager puppy, she nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, my lady. Indeed! It brings me joy to see you embracing life in a different manner.”
If only she knew the hardships you had endured in the past, molding you into someone who viewed the world through a different lens in this present time. She would have been glad to see you become an empress, but she would be horrified to know the amount of souls that died by your hands alone.
You were lost in contemplation throughout the afternoon, and you wandered aimlessly around the city, immersing yourself fully in the lives of the common folk until dusk began to descend. Just as you were about to make your way back to your carriage, a larger one passed by, adorned in white and blue with the imperial insignia proudly displayed.
Today heralded the return of Princess Savina from The Providence. She was the sister of Crown Prince Satoru and the infamous Caelum princess who had tragically perished alongside her lover, Prince Megumi of Astheryn.
Her tragic demise was also the beginning of Satoru’s descent to tyranny.
That could only mean one thing: the true story was just about to unfold.
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You felt unsettled.
Princess Savina’s return marked not only a significant turning point, but also served as a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded in your previous life. Her tragic death had set off a chain reaction of calamities. After her illicit romance with an Astherean prince was exposed, a devastating war broke out and claimed the deaths of innocent citizens. Shortly after, the prince and princess' dead bodies were discovered in the Sistine Chapel. While the conflict might have concluded with an armistice, it was also the catalyst for Satoru’s path to seizing the throne with your helping hand. It was this very moment that laid the groundwork for Satoru's eventual usurpation of the throne.
Soon after, Satoru’s ascension to power would be imminent, with you standing by his side as his chosen empress. He would eliminate every traitor you had identified, while you exacted vengeance upon those who had wronged you prior to your rise to an imperial status. Yet, despite your unwavering loyalty and dedication, Satoru never truly trusted or loved you as his wife, ultimately leading to his betrayal in the end.
How could you stand still and watch history repeat itself?
You had to have a plan. You had to devise a scheme wise enough to change the course of your life. And perhaps, befriending Savina might be the key. She might have a chance to live if her affair with the Astherean prince remained undiscovered, averting the tragic chain of events that led to her demise. That way, Satoru would not harbor the desperation to usurp his parents. He would not ask you to orchestrate a coup, and make you his pathetic empress in return. In this life, you resolved to be repulsive enough in Satoru's eyes that he would be utterly disinterested in you, even if you were the last person on Earth.
The plan seemed logical, yet simultaneously absurd. In your past life, you had strived with all your might to become Satoru's wife, yet now, you were doing everything in your power to avoid such a fate. Is this naught but a cruel game? You could not suppress a wry chuckle as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the bright moonlight casting an illuminated glow upon you. It was enchanting yet horrifying at the same time to see a faint scar encircling your neck, a grim mark that reminded you of your previous fate as a beheaded empress. You were still uncertain whether you were the only one who could see the scar, but Milena had never seemed to notice it during your bathing rituals. Perhaps the scar would only manifest as a visible reminder of sin, and would fade with virtuous deeds. Your recent act of generosity towards the beggar, however, seemed to carry no weight in mitigating your previous unethical dealings with Maestro Giancarlo. It appeared that genuine acts of kindness were only truly rewarded when performed with sincerity, while any hint of selfishness nullified their positive effects.
You acknowledged that virtuousness was not inherently ingrained within you. While avoiding marriage to Satoru was your primary objective, the prospect of a life dedicated to serving the common people was not your desired path. As long as you refrained from inflicting suffering upon others, you saw no necessity in accumulating merits through good deeds. After all, your sole task, as directed by Archangel Raphael, was to atone for your sins, not to become a paragon of virtue. You were no saint.
Three days had quickly passed since that night, and this day held a special occasion that had your heart pumping heavily the morning you woke up. Today, as accurate as your previous life, was the day of The Mass of Annunciation—a holy Catholic mass to celebrate when Archangel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary and announced to her that she would conceive and give birth to the son of God, Jesus.
The grandeur of the event was undeniable, and attendance was obligatory for all noble families of Caelum, given the devout nature of the empire’s populace. Moreover, the presence of the imperial Gojou family ensured the importance of the occasion. Yet, for you, stepping into Saint Peter's Basilica once more stirred nerves as memories flooded back from your time as an empress. Now, as a 20-year-old daughter of a duke, you entered the basilica beside your brother, Aristide, whose pompous demeanor drew the gaze of all noble ladies present. After all, he was the empire’s second most eligible bachelor after Satoru himself. In your first life, your brother had wed Lady Serena, and your relationship had soured when you declared him a traitor and accused him of treachery against your then-husband. Although Satoru had spared his life, he had decreed Aristide’s eventual exile, wary of the threat posed by a brother-in-law with ambitions for the throne.
The stark contrast between your current standing and your former eminence as an empress was palpable as you made your first public appearance in high society since your regression. No longer did heads turn and knees bend at the sight of you. Instead, you were regarded as a mere noblewoman, approaching the age where marriage prospects dwindled, and whispered rumors branded you as a woman with an unsavory fixation on the crown prince. It was a humbling experience, to say the least, and a reminder of the depths to which your reputation had fallen.
Despite no longer holding the title of empress, you spared no effort in your attire. You carried yourself with the same regal air, a testament to your upbringing and the lavish lifestyle afforded by your father. Your family not only produced the bravest knights, but also supported a prosperous weaponry business, which reflected your ostentatious way of life. That was why you had the means to wear a sumptuous gown of rich burgundy brocade, intricately woven with gold thread and adorned with delicate floral embroidery. You made certain that the modest neckline gracefully covered your neck to hide your revolting scar, while layers of sheer chiffon formed a voluminous skirt that cascades to your feet. Your hair was secured in a crespine, a delicate net-like veil adorned with lustrous pearls and sparkling gemstones, while around your neck hung a simple yet elegant silver cross pendant to add a touch of reverence.
In your eyes, you considered yourself a modest and conservative lady who was hesitant to reveal too much skin. However, your brother found it laughable, jesting that you might as well become a nun given how covered your chest and neckline were. He remarked that it was unusual for you to dress in such a reserved manner, as you had previously taken the initiative to wear attire that would attract Satoru’s manly gaze.
“Announcing the arrival of His and Her Imperial Highness, followed by His and Her Imperial Majesties—the luminaries of our empire.”
As the imperial family arrived at the basilica, a hushed anticipation suddenly fell over the gathered crowd. The air was filled with a palpable sense of reverence and awe as the imposing façade of the basilica welcomed the presence of the empire’s highest authority.
First to enter were Princess Savina and Crown Prince Satoru, the heir and heiress to the throne, their regal presence commanding attention as they made their way down the grand procession. Princess Savina was resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and a coronet as her headdress, while there he came… Your then-husband. Your ex-lover. Your betrayer. Crown Prince Satoru, clad in a tailored doublet of rich blue velvet, projecting an air of quiet strength and authority as he stared straight ahead towards the altar like he did in your past life. You had almost forgotten how princely handsome he was when he was younger, and you could not stop your frenzied heart as you felt somersaults in your stomach. No, you must not! It was all in the mind. It was all a matter of mind games, and this might be the first time you had seen Satoru again in real life after your regression, but he was still a man who had ordered to kill you. You should never be fooled by his luscious white hair and sky blue eyes.
“In love?” whispered your brother, a smirk visible on his face.
“Out of love,” you corrected and remained resolute in your goal not to get swayed by Satoru’s charm again. “I feel not a single thing.”
Aristide scoffed at that. “Yet your eyes shine at the sight of him?”
As the imperial siblings took their places at the head of the procession, the assembled congregation bowed their heads in deference as the imperial family proceeded to their seats and their every movement watched with rapt attention by the gathered nobility. Following closely behind were the Emperor and Empress, the reigning monarchs of the empire, their presence heralded by the sound of trumpets and the swell of sacred music.
You chose not to bicker with your brother throughout the holy mass, although there were times you were tempted to cuss him out. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, ridiculing your attire and insisting that Satoru would never pay you any attention. He took great pleasure in reminding you of the prince’s supposed revulsion towards your obsession, when little did your foolish brother know, you would be glad if that was in fact true.
And the ironic thing was, in your previous life, you had done Aristide a great favor by marrying Satoru. This freed up Lady Serena for marriage, despite her supposed status as the crown prince’s favorite. You used to despise Serena out of sheer jealousy, while Aristide had always desired her, which was why your brother had urged you to win Satoru's affections to pave the way for him to marry the lady he so coveted.
In this life, you decided not to interfere in any potential relationship between Satoru and Serena, regardless of your brother’s wishes. You acknowledged that Serena would make a far superior empress than yourself, as she possessed enough empathy in her to prioritize the welfare of her people and avoid endangering them. She was not the type of person who would willingly bring about the destruction of an entire nation, nor would she welcome the spread of plague out of mere vengeance against her husband.
With Satoru out of your plans, Savina then came into the picture. You had to speak and get close to her—close enough for her to trust you and befriend you, but not attached enough for you to act like her older sister. You would only be here to guide her and avoid her from the path of her downfall in order to save yourself. Savina was the key.
Savina… Savina would be the one to save you in this life. Savina was your only hope.
As the mass concluded, some of the nobles began to disperse, while others congregated in a corner to converse with the Archbishop. Your sole intention at that moment was to approach Savina, allowing your feet to lead you to the direction of where she was. But just before you reached her, you stumbled upon a very significant individual who had played a pivotal role in bringing about your suffering in your previous life.
It was none other than Satoru’s advisor, Lord Maximillian.
“Lady Y/N, it is a delight to see you,” the man greeted, but you could see right through him. He never liked you now and in the past. In fact, his hatred stemmed from his peculiar fixation towards the imperial family. He may look younger presently, but he was still an old and rotten base-born cur.
Maximilian was the one responsible for introducing Satoru to the prophecy, and he was also the individual who whispered your demise into your husband's ears. Given his role in your past suffering, why should you afford him any respect?
“It is rather surprising you had not burned inside the church,” you remarked acerbically, eliciting widened eyes from the nobleman. “Yet it does beg the question, Lord Maximilian, what brings a heretic like yourself inside a Catholic church?”
Within the confines of the basilica, or at least the space surrounding you, a variety of reactions unfolded. A noble lady shot you a disapproving stare for your perceived rudeness towards a man of higher nobility, while your brother regarded you with a mixture of astonishment and concern as if you had gone mad. Conversely, a young nobleman appeared impressed by your audacity.
As for Maximilian, it was rather amusing to observe the crimson hue that spread across his face. You anticipated his retort and braced yourself for his comeback. “Why, you foul-mouthed wench!” he exclaimed, his voice laden with indignation. “Who do you think you are speaking to?!”
You grinned triumphantly at your success in offending him. “You should be ashamed to show yourself in front of God—” you began, relishing the opportunity to further provoke him, but was cut short when a formidable presence appeared before you.
The arctic white hair, the crystal blue eyes, the smooth ivory skin, the towering build from years of training…
“Your Highness,” Maximilian immediately curtsied before the prince, while you remained frozen in place. Like a statue. “Your Highness, this young lady is preposterous!”
On one hand, Satoru’s eyes bathed in humor as he observed the interaction between you and Maximilian. This was the first time you two had faced each other since the regression, and the emotions stirred within you were still raw. You were husband and wife when you last saw each other. You could still remember the last time you saw him the night before your execution, when he visited you in the West Tower and asked you to live a solitary life in the countryside as his mistress. Your heart seemed to constrict in your chest, yet simultaneously, it pounded loudly with anticipation.
“Max, it seems the lady has labeled you a heretic,” the Crown Prince remarked, his gaze unwavering as he focused on you. “Can you substantiate your accusations, Lady Y/N?” he inquired, prompting you to defend your claims.
Satoru, you fool. If you were to reveal what happened in your previous life, he would be an accomplice to the crime. He carried the highest position in the empire at the time, yet he was a supporter of heresy himself. That alone would have brought him into Inquisition.
You could not think straight. Oh for heaven’s sake! You could not focus. Could not breathe. Could not speak. Your thoughts were flooded by memories of your past life; of Satoru claiming you were useless for being barren, of him refusing to acknowledge your child, of him planning to wed another woman after the years you had devoted to him, of him ruthlessly ordering your execution.
Of him never saying he loved you.
Before you realized it, tears welled up in your eyes. You were utterly unprepared to encounter him today, let alone engage in conversation, especially while the wounds from your past were still so raw. Some wounds had yet to heal, and the mere sight of him brought them flooding back.
And with your unexpected reaction, his expression softened and morphed into one of genuine concern. Why? Why was he suddenly concerned now when he spent years of being an ungrateful husband? His smile had long vanished, replaced by a look of worry after seeing you on the verge of breaking down. However, before the tears could spill, you turned and fled, unable to bear the thought of crying in front of a man like him.
“Hold on, Lady Y/N—!”
His voice called out to you, but you refused to look back. No, you were determined to only keep moving forward, to distance yourself from the man who had caused you so much pain. Therefore, you hastily fled the basilica, seeking solace amidst the throng of nobles who were crowding outside.
As you ran, tears streamed down your face unchecked, yet you let it be. The ache in your heart was unbearable, knowing that the man you had once loved so deeply now had the power to hurt you all over again. Only when you found a secluded spot beneath a stone pine tree did you collapse, clutching your chest as you recalled the face of the man who had caused you so much anguish.
I despise you, Satoru.
“How could you betray me like that?” you murmured, tears staining your cheeks as you sobbed beneath the tree, feeling utterly pathetic.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over you, and as you looked up, you saw a man with dark hair clad in shining armor. His smile was gentle as he approached and crouched down beside you.
“My lady.” It was the Knight Commander, Yuuta, offering you his handkerchief. “Is everything alright?”
#series: lltv#satoru gojou x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader
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I saw a prompt/ficlet a while ago (I don't remember by who or where) that I'm gonna piggy back off of.
In an attempt to strike a partnership with Wayne Tech., the Fenton's go to Vlad and he gets them invitations to a gala with a solid 'maybe' on meeting Bruce himself.
Naturally, Danny gets bored and decides to push his luck. How much can he get away with before someone gets suspicious? A lot, apparently.
On the bright side, no one in Gotham seems to be able to see through his invisibility.
Long story short, Danny accidentally starts a cult with himself as the object of worship.
Anyway, a few years later and the reveal goes wrong. He flees to Gotham. The ambient ectoplasm in the air, the natural smog, the fact that no one seems to stay dead for long- he'll blend right in. He hopes.
Turns out, since his accidental cult upstart at the gala a few years ago, a building on the border of Crime Alley has been built/repurposed into a church for his followers.
That explains why he keeps getting stat boots.
There's a space in the top of the building that he claims as his home. It becomes his lair, but he still doesn't have a proper haunt.
One night, someone bangs on the doors of the building, waking Danny, and claims sanctuary. Danny opens the locked door (invisible) and beats up the people who barge in after the man. He claimed sanctuary. Danny knows how this Is supposed to work.
Word gets around fast and suddenly, Danny's accidental church has become neutral ground that no one dares try to break.
Batman and Red Hood have conflicting feelings. The building Is neutral, so they can't move anyone in. It also sits directly on the line of Crime Alley and Greater Gotham.
Bruce wants to investigate because something Is in that building that's actually keeping/giving sanctuary.
Jason insists they leave it be because it's not really doing anything to either of them.
These feelings are only amplified when the Joker breaks sanctuary and is beaten and left unconscious on B's doorstep with a note of warning.
.
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LOVE TRIAL!
GUILTY AREN’T I? OF ALL MY LOVE CRIMES…
— [warnings]. [mentions of drinking (venti)]
— synopsis . . . [char] has decided to come clean and acknowledge all the facts necessary for conviction. the conviction? they’re in love with you.
(more simply, them just being hopeless losers that are in love with you hcs ๑>◡<๑)
— characters . . . venti, zhongli, tartaglia, wanderer, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, navia, clorinde, arlecchino
— notes . . . i can't go on the genshin x reader tag anymore bc of the amount of smut on it, i’m so loved starved rn…*sighs dramatically* i added venti & zhongli purely bc i love them (plus they’d also be on trial for war reasons so hehe)
VENTI — 温迪
love is quite similar to the wind in a way. comes quickly, randomly, it can hit you hard, it can be gentle and peaceful yet it can also be irritating and noisy.
currently, venti was feeling all the negatives: drunk, irritated, and his heartbeat drowning out any exterior noises to the degree he didn’t even hear your recognisable footsteps entering angel’s share. normally, he’d instantly perk up at the mere glimpse of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to even bother raising his head up from his arms anymore.
“venti? someone asked me to come check up on you…you alright? (o*｡_｡)o” you gently touched his back in comfort which just made his heart swell.
“mfh…i’m—hic—okay (ﾟヘﾟ)?” he responds nonchalantly.
“yeah, you sound very self-assured don’t you...come here then.”
“drink with me… (♡´𓋰`♡)”
“nope, i’m getting you far away from angel’s share, this is bad, even for you.” you speak to him so softly it almost makes him sleepy as you attempt to lift him up. venti wrapped his arms around your neck in response, pouting at you with a hazy and dizzy look.
his hand travels to your cheek, delicately caressing it with weird concentration. he leans into what seems like a kiss before pausing and resting his forehead onto your shoulder instead. he whispers in a delicate and dreamy tone, “i love you… too much.”
ZHONGLI — 钟离
zhongli fiddled with the brooch you gifted him while out on a stroll the other day with a complaisant smile, humming a tune to himself that he specifically remembered you sung. it was such a lovely melody, something so serene and gentle it was almost like the feeling of sunlight on your skin. or perhaps that was only the case because you sung it?
he’s an ancient being with countless of prior lifetimes and ones ahead; he’s no lovesick fool, but he couldn’t deny that the giddy feeling in his churning stomach, and the swirling of his heart is a rather enticing experience, one which he cannot tire from.
his mind traced back to the short hangout you had earlier today; nothing unusual, just a walk around liyue harbour with his hand inching closer to yours, breath hitching at the minute contact before he retracted his hand to awkwardly play with his rings. oh, and that angelic smile that he loved so much…
zhongli traced his bottom lip, imagining it as your own as a silly smile graced his face at his delusion. would you lean into his touch? move away? be startled, confused, or even worried? would you look away? or…
ahh…perhaps, he’s a little head over heels for you, alright?
TARTAGLIA — 公子
“tartaglia, please. this is seriously too much!!” he crumpled another letter with that specific and significant order and threw it skillfully over into the bin. there’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to showering someone with gifts, ESPECIALLY during important holidays and events! at least that’s what tartaglia’s delusional lovesick mind has led him to wholeheartedly believe.
he gazes over at the countless trinkets you’ve given him over the course of your adventures and vacations; i mean if you can do it, why can’t he? little does he realise that “trinkets” is much more acceptable than “gifts that pile up to your ceiling at the end of each week”.
it makes sense for you to want to spoil someone any way you can if you love them.
…love them?? did he love you? i mean, he accepts your affection like it’s a natural instinct, sends you letters and gifts biweekly, his entire family knows you, and whenever you exchange gifts during holidays he purposefully skims his fingers over yours.
but that’s all just friendly gestures…okay listen he may have believed santa clause (or the teyvat equivalent…?) was real for several years because of pulcinella but he’s not THAT horrifically oblivious (grits teeth). he absolutely adores you, and the letters he has stashed away, that could practically count as love confessions due to how descriptive they are of your character, are solid evidence.
WANDERER — 流浪者
your mind has three defense mechanisms against impactful events: repression, denial and displacement. all of which were prevalent with the wanderer.
he pushed the conscious memories of abandonment into his unconscious, he ignored the reality of his feelings for you to avoid any form of attachment, and proceeded to take out his anger onto you because of the way you made him feel.
he’s convinced himself he hates you.
hate, within the context of a romantic relationship, arises mainly from a relational betrayal. betrayal trauma can feel an awful lot like the dull and lingering pain after a swift punch to the gut. the person who hurt you isn't a stranger, yet when they leave, it certainly feels like you never knew them at all.
that’s precisely why he can’t fall for you…but he does so anyway; because how was he meant to override the childish fluttering in his prototype heart whenever you gently brushed your shoulders together when walking, or when your eyes met and you instantly smiled at him so stupidly?
and well, he isn’t really doing a good job of pretending he hates you when he lets you touch him so freely, or when he seeks your simple affections out without shame…
☆ ITTY BITTY SPOILERS ☆ for both fontaine archon quests 🐳
LYNEY — 林尼
lyney rubbed his weary eyes as the light began to settle into his view. while initially blurry, after blinking a few times, lyney realised exactly where he was; the opera epiclese. yet he’s not standing where he and his twin would be if they were preforming a magic show, rather, he was standing directly where an accused perpetrator would.
despite how hazy he felt, that tinge of anxiety managed to bubble into his stomach to ironically stabilise him. the stomping sound of a cane reverberated through the room which fixed his attention to the iudex. “order.” his voice caused lyney to grimace whatever words he’d utter next. why was he reliving this moment?
“mister lyney, i hereby declare you as guilty in this love trial.”
lyney couldn’t help but blink and tilt his head in confusion…what kind of trial? was that some sort of code? 【・_・?】
“with no further objections, the oratrice shall now deliver its final verdict.” however, before he could hear the motions of the machine in action, he awoke: sweaty, confused, and face flushed a brilliant red hue. lyney glanced over at his bedside table, his cheeks tinting even redder at the sight of a rose that he gained from your fine hands.
maybe that dream was trying to tell him something…(｡•́︿•̀｡)
NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特
recently, the skies of fontaine have been ever so clear. every blemish of grey spotted clouds disarrayed into a flurry of white, the sun blazing out and making it the most perfect atmosphere for a pleasant summer. though…this was the middle of october, so this particular weather puzzled the fontaine citizens, albeit with little complaint.
neuvillette sat in his office with a gentle and subtle smile expressed his soft features, although he maintained that ‘air’ of professionalism as he went over a recent investigation, he subconsciously grazed his fingertips over a letter with your name on it.
to neuvillette, love is a lot like a trial (or perhaps that’s the only analogy he can conjure up to comprehend his deepening feelings for you). you put yourself out there, presenting your best case for why you deserve to be loved, just as a lawyer presents their case for why their client is innocent. it involves the same sense of vulnerability, uncertainty, and even risk: you don't know how the outcome will turn out, and you have to have faith in the process and trust in the person who is judging (or loving) you.
his judgement about you, however, doesn’t need much thought or even a confirmation of the verdict with the oratrice. he’s in love with you, devoted, if you will. and perhaps, if you’re willing, he’d be happy to make a whole argumentative case on why you deserve him.
WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利
he’s very tempted to make a case against you.
you’ve committed the most heinous crime known to teyvat, one which no person has had the courage to fulfil:
stealing his heart.
how long would he have you down in the fortress for to pay for your crimes? glad you asked, because he’s made an entire mental plan for whenever you visit him in the fortress of meropide (for whatever reason…let’s just hope it’s nothing TOO bad ahaha…. ._.)
your sentence would depend on how long it takes for you to fall for him too. god he’s never realised how much of an absolute loser he can be when enamoured it actually makes him angry. if you could see the way he low-key giggles and plays with his hair at even the slightest glimpse of you, he’s assured your sentence would be several years instead of his hopeful couple months (unless you’re already in love with him then…hey.)
i’m pretty certain if he could, he’d send you a letter that says “haha, what if we kissed? just kidding! unless…”
yeah, he’s THAT level of loser for you. (*´∀｀*)
NAVIA — 娜维娅
valentine’s day has become her favourite holiday! not for any “particular” reason…certainly not because she can use the day to “platonically” spoil you with food and subtle affection whenever she pleases.
“happy valentine’s day! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡” navia smiles at you and bows, presenting you a pink bag glittered in hearts, a cute bow on of one of the handles. you smiled in response and took the bag from her gently. merely catching a sneaky peek into it you could see several little plastic bags filled with goodies and sweets, ones you assumed where baked by her fine hands.
“thank you, navia! honestly, i look forward to this every year~ (∩❛ڡ❛∩)” you laugh as you unwrap one of the brownies in the bag and begin chewing on it with a complaisant and satisfied expression. your sweet and genuine look made her heart clench in her chest, she coughs into her hand awkwardly and looks away from your lips.
“uhum, i’m glad! anyways i’ve got uhh…something to do…(｡>\\<)” she replied hastily, clutching at her chest dramatically as she left, leaving you rather confused: you continued to eat her pastries regardless of the sudden change in atmosphere, because i mean who doesn’t like free shit made specifically for you?
navia’s mind and heart felt so fuzzy as she checked her complexion in her pocket sized mirror, padding at her face with powder to futilely hide her immense blush. putting away her mirror, she flipped over her hat to reveal a matching pink letter with cursive writing on it. “sorry lyney your plan was cute and all…but i seriously can’t do this today…”
CLORINDE — 克洛琳德
harbouring her position as the best champion duelist means there’s plenty of people (people who desire death at the hands of a pretty woman.) who wish to duel or spar against her purely to see her skills personally. yet, so far there’s been no one who’s stepped up to that challenge (we can ignore tartaglia for now.)
until you, that is. you have no reason to ask to spar with her, and while she has little reason to refuse you, she does reject your requests each time. however, clorinde has learnt over time that refusing your cute face and sweet smile leaves a little bit of her hollow, so alas, one day when she had a free schedule — she accepted a spar session.
thank the hydro archon that she did because holy shit. clorinde never thought she had a type, perhaps just someone who’s the opposite of her to balance her out, but now she definitely knows you qualify. the way the sweat drips down your arms and neck, your expression fixed yet amused and the subtle vein forming on your hand as you grip your weapon…shit she’s not paying attention.
as you strike a blow that leaves her tumbling backwards onto the floor, a cheeky grin adorns your face that makes her heart skip like pebbles on a flowing river. you can boast about your win against the champion duelist for all of teyvat to hear, all she cares about is seeing that side of you again…please.
ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺
ah well shit.
this isn’t going to exactly work now, will it? technically, falling in love with a subordinate isn’t against some sort of law or code, but a harbinger being bewitched is a different story.
arlecchino leaned against her desk with her hands resting behind her. an icy shiver ran down your spine as her eyes were practically piercing through you. did you mess up on a report or something…? was this the end…(,,>ࡇ<,,)? you’ve always thought you kept a pretty good and quite close relationship with the knave, but perhaps that was your downfall?
it’s not easy to ignore the deafening sound of her heartbeat, that alone made it even more difficult to concentrate when you’re just an arms reach away from her in her private study, with no one to bother you two. it’s futile to ignore the fluttering of your heart, therefore, arlecchino decides to saunter over to you with a poker face, something which only made you want to die on the spot.
she leaned over on your desk with her hands right on the edge, you instinctively peel your head upwards to question her with a meek voice, “is uhm, something wrong, knave?” you begged she didn’t notice the slight quiver in your voice.
“i believe,” she averts her gaze before staring directly at you with a much more softened expression, “i’ve fallen in love with you.”
I KNEW IT INSTANTLY, YOU’RE ALSO GUILTY…
©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost <3
#AAAAAAAAH this makes no sense but i need to push SOMETHIN’ out….#genshin x reader#genshin x gnreader#genshin x you#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#navia x reader#clorinde x reader#arlecchino x reader#lyney x reader#wanderer x reader#scara x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe x reader#zhongli x reader#venti x reader#gi x reader
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la apuesta part 2
pairing: college!miguel x fem reader
warnings: a bit of angst(?), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (safe sex is GREAT sex 🗣️💯), missionary, doggy
author’s note: i keep getting surprised by the fact that ppl actually like my drabbles 💀 but like always, thank you for supporting :))
word count: 4120 (lo siento, i got carried away 😰)
part one aqui :)
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): chula, please talk to me
received at 2:43 pm
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): can we just talk about what you think you might've heard?
received at 2:44 pm
Miguel(DO NOT CALL): please. i just wanna talk to you.
received at 2:45 pm
Miguel hadn't realized how effectively you'd infiltrated through his defenses until you had left, knowing that he'd probably never share another weird snack combination with you settling weird in his stomach. He was supposed to feel a sense of relief and accomplishment when Peter congratulated him and gave him the two hundred bucks, but he only felt the cereal he ate this morning forming into steel, only feeling the emptiness from not having you. He decided to put his pride to the side and head over to your dorm, just to try to explain his side of the situation.
You heard a knock on your door a couple minutes later but had a feeling it was Miguel, so you decided not to open the door. Your roommate glanced over at you, seeing the fetal position you were laying in and decided to open the door just a bit. "I don't know what the hell you did to her, but get the fuck out, O'Hara. What I do know is that she was too good for you to be messing around with in the first place, so you and Peter can go stick that blunt up your ass and choke on it," you heard her say, slamming the door in his face before walking back to your side of the room. You let out a small laugh, looking up at her as you sat up on the bed. "Thanks MJ," you whispered, letting out a small sigh as she embraced you in a hug. "Now, I've let you mope around the dorm for about a week now but let's go out. It doesn't have to be anything too serious, we can just go out to the mall if you want," she suggested, looking at you with a smile as she pulled away from the hug.
You and MJ walked through the mall a couple hours later, despite the fact that you'd only gotten one of those overpriced pretzels from Auntie Anne's, you still found yourself enjoying this without giving much thought to Miguel. That was, until you and MJ were sitting at the water fountain talking about which store to go next when you saw him talking with a girl. You wanted to be the better person, to be able to walk away from it, but you just couldn't help but feel the anger coursing inside of you. "You're a real piece of shit, you know that? It's one thing for you to treat me like I don't have any feelings and I'm just means to an end but it's another thing for you to go and talk to someone else after you came to my dorm room just a few hours ago!" You yelled at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you slapped him. You attracted the attention from other shoppers, but you didn't care, you wanted Miguel to feel just a second of the hurt you felt this past week.
MJ looked up at you as you walked back to her, leaving Miguel agape with his hand on his cheek, as a smile appeared on her face while she took a bite out of her pretzel. "I feel like a proud mom right now, y'know?" She said, laughing a bit as she hands you your pretzel. "It's just, I know that it was all just part of the bet, but a part of me wanted him to care," you admitted, taking a bite out of the pretzel as you tried to get Miguel out of your mind. "I know you're gonna wanna blame yourself and whatnot, but it wasn't your fault, it was his. He didn't deserve a minute of your company," she assured you, rubbing your knee before standing up.
You two continued to walk around in the mall, ending up at Sephora to look at overpriced makeup. "Walking out with 2 makeup products after spending 80 dollars has to be a federal crime," you murmured, looking at your receipt with a small groan. "Not a federal crime, capitalism," she said with a laugh, walking next to you as she looked through her own receipt with a small groan. "Okay, you're right. This has to be a federal crime somewhere," she finally muttered, shoving it in her pocket as you two walked around window shopping.
After seeing Miguel at the mall with that girl, you decided to get your priorities back in order. Your grades weren't necessarily slipping too badly, but you knew you could do better. You walked into the library, sitting down at one of the tables in the back and read through your textbook while highlighting some key points. You looked up when someone slammed something on the table, your annoyance only growing when you saw Peter sitting down in front of you. You weren't exactly his biggest fan given how immaturely he acted with MJ, but your distaste had grown even more when you found out he orchestrated the bet. You were about to pick up your stuff to leave before he grabbed your arm, making you sit back down.
"Just give me five minutes to explain, and I'll leave you alone after that," he said, letting your arm go as he folded his arms. You sighed but nodded, closing your book as you paid attention to him. "Look, Miguel might be an asshole for going through with the bet, but I made the suggestion. I was angry at you for swaying MJ's opinion about me and I took advantage of what he felt towards you," he said, his head dropping a bit in shame. You scoffed in surprise, shaking your head as you collected your books. "First of all, I never swayed MJ's opinion about you. Sure, I told her she should set some stricter boundaries when it comes to you but I never got in the middle of your relationship. And next time you have an issue with me, address it instead of having someone else do the work for you," you said, walking away from him.
You felt even angrier at Peter's explanation of the events, knowing he probably said that to make himself feel better about all this. You scoffed and heard your stomach grumble loudly, your cheeks flushing red when you saw that you'd attracted some attention from the students walking nearby. You walked into the cafeteria, trying to calm down as you headed into the lunch line. You glanced over at the available tables before your gaze fell on Miguel. Or more specifically, Miguel kissing the same blonde girl from the mall against one of the vending machines. You felt yourself growing angry, at Miguel for being a jerk and at yourself, for still caring about what he did with his tongue.
As you sat down at the tables with your cold pizza in hand, you couldn't help but start to wonder what was wrong with you. Why she deserved to be taken seriously while you were treated like your feelings didn't matter, like you were just the end objective to a goal. You felt someone's gaze on you and looked up to see Miguel staring at you, an indecipherable look in his eyes, as the girl next to him continued talking. The girl looked over at you with narrowed eyes, practically seething, before pulling Miguel for a kiss. You snapped out of it, feeling a bit sorry for the girl that she felt the need to do that out of jealousy before going back to eating your pizza.
You spent most of the semester focusing on your own work, spending time with your friends and MJ, and even if you did get asked out, you couldn't bring yourself to say yes and do all the work. Sure, Miguel hurt you deeply, but you didn't find any excitement in going on dates. Not like you did with him. Eventually, midterms were around the corner and you were assigned to work with Miguel for your biology project. Even if the idea made you want to drop out of college and never come back, you decided to be mature and be a good partner to Miguel.
You decided to stick behind when the class left after gaining permission from your professor to do a test run on the project assigned, since the idea of getting anything less than an A just didn't sit right. You walked into the supply closet, grabbing a few things before you heard the door close and lock. Before you had the chance to say anything, Miguel popped out and looked at you pleadingly. "Please, just let me talk and then I'll let you go," he said, his hands fidgeting by his sides like he had the urge to grab you but couldn't decide if it would be right. "What is it, Miguel?" you asked, putting down the instruments you were holding in your hand before you got the idea to smash a flask on his head.
"Look, I know I made a mistake and I'm sorry about that, but I can't sleep without you. I can't stop thinking about you, it's haunting my mind," he said, looking into your eyes as you laughed bitterly. "Isn't that the understatement of the century? You seemed perfectly fine when I saw you exchanging saliva in the cafeteria a couple weeks ago," you replied, folding your arms as you waited for him to elaborate. "She doesn't mean anything to me. Not the way you do, I promise. I tried to get you out of my mind, I did, but despite everything, I still found myself falling in love with you," he said, holding your hands as he looked straight at you. "Is this just another part of a bet? Try to see how long I'll take to forgive you? I wonder what the wager is, 200?" you asked, taking your hands off him as you saw the look in his eyes shift into something disappointing. "I get that you still don't trust me, chula. but I'll make it up to you," he said after a moment of silence, kissing your hand before walking away.
Over the next couple days, you kept finding your favorite flowers scattered on your desk at school or on your front door with some memo along the lines of 'forgive me.' You couldn't help but feel slightly enraged at the fact that Miguel thought he could makeup for what he did with just measly flowers, so the bouquets ended up in the garbage most of the time. After Miguel noticed that you weren't responding to the flowers, he kept dropping letters in your notebooks or leaving them at your dorm expressing how sorry he truly felt. Eventually, those ended up in the trash as well after you started growing more and more agitated at how he just didn't understand that you wanted a genuine apology.
He stopped you on your way out your biology midterm, pulling you into an empty classroom as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Okay, I see that most of my gestures aren't getting anywhere with you so I want to try something different. I want to apologize for the way that I acted towards you, treating you like you were just some end objective to a goal. At first, it did feel like that, but as I started to get closer to you, I fell in love with the person that you were. Look, I wish I could tell you why I chose to do that, but I can't. What I can tell you is that those two hundred dollars weren't anything compared to what it's like being in your company," he spoke after a couple seconds, his hands clasping yours as if he was begging you not leave just yet. "I want to trust you, I really do, but I can't. I can't let myself go through all that again," you spoke truthfully, your hands holding his tightly as he looked at you.
"Let's make a bet, yeah?" He asked, half a smile on his face as you stared at him, dumbfounded that he would even bring that idea up right now. In the middle of his apology speech. "I know it sounds stupid right now but hear me out, okay. If you agree to go on a date with me and you find yourself enjoying it, then you'll give me a chance to continue to prove myself to you. And if you don't enjoy it, then I'll leave you alone. How does that sound?" he suggested, letting your hands go as he gave you some time to think about it."You're right, that is the stupidest idea I've heard. But fine, I suppose I'll do it," you finally said after a couple minutes of consideration. You saw the look of surprise flicker in miguel's eyes before he broke out into a smile, kissing your hands. "Gracias, mi chula. I won't disappoint," he said before walking off out of the empty classroom, leaving you alone with your rampant thoughts.
The day of the date, you paced around your dorm as MJ stared at you, listening to your rambles. "What if this was a mistake? I mean, he already played me once so who's to say he won't do it again, y'know what I mean?" You said, looking up at her as you stopped your pacing for a moment. "So why'd you agree to it?" She asked, laying down on her stomach as she looked up at you. "I don't know, I guess I'm hoping that he's been truthful about this all because despite the fact that he hurt me and all that, I'm still in love with him," you admitted, sitting down on your bed as you looked over at her. "Well, that's as good of a reason as any to go," she replied, standing up to sit next to you as she placed her hand on your thigh, gently rubbing it as she tried to reassure you.
You heard a knock on your door a couple hours later as you finished up getting ready, feeling a bit anxious to see Miguel once more. You opened the door once you finished tying your shoes on, seeing Miguel dressed in one of those burgundy button down shirts he looks so good in but barely wears with a pair of black pants. His jaw dropped as he scratched the back of his neck nervously, before he gave you a smile. "Te ves hermosa, mi chula," he said, handing you a bouquet of flowers. You held the flowers up to your nose before going to set them back down, coming back to see MJ standing in the doorway now. "If she comes back with even one lash out of place, I will hunt you down," she threatened, the sight almost funny to you as you saw her looking up at him. You pressed your hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile before walking out of the door next to Miguel. (you look gorgeous, my pretty)
You and Miguel ended up on an aquarium date, since you briefly mentioned in the past that even though it was a bit cliché in your opinion, you always wanted to come on one. Miguel held your hand once you were at the front of the line, guiding you inside to where some of the pufferfish were. You took a chance to watch them swim around, your eyes drifting over to Miguel to see that he was staring at you, watching the way you took in everything around you. You two continued walking through the aquarium, staring at some of the different fish with you taking pictures and him dropping some random fish fact he'd read about when he was six.
"I cannot believe you prefer sharks over dolphins," Miguel said with a small laugh, folding his arms as he watched your nose scrunch up at the dolphin show. "You're telling me you prefer these menacing creatures over those cute little guys?" You asked, your brows slightly furrowed as you looked up at Miguel. "Well no, but it's still odd how you call an animal with five rows of teeth a 'cute little guy'," he said, nudging your shoulder gently as he laughed. Despite the fact that you'd convinced yourself you were gonna try to make this difficult for Miguel, you couldn't help but be reminded of the guy you fell in love with here at the aquarium.
You and Miguel continued walking around the aquarium a bit before you reached to the manta-ray petting area. "Please?" You asked, your bottom lip forming into a pout as you saw the look on his face when you both got there. He let out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed his temples whispering an, "Ay Dios mío" before agreeing to go in with you. You did quick work of washing your hands before walking over to the small pool where they were, your hands gently touching them. Miguel walked next to you, handing you a piece of fish to feed to them as he basked in the small smile you gave him. You two spent a few minutes in silence petting the manta-rays before deciding to go get an ice cream cone. (oh Lord)
"Thank you for all this, I know I didn't exactly make it easy for you," you said, licking your ice cream cone as you sat down in his car. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing it with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. "I get it, okay? I know it probably wasn't easy for you to let down your defenses but I really do appreciate you giving me this opportunity," he said, bringing your hand up to his mouth before kissing it. The ride back home was pretty quiet, a comforting type of silence, your hand enveloped with his as he rubbed gentle circles every now and then.
You and Miguel got to his dorm room a couple minutes later, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he held you up against the wall, kissing your neck as he tasted every spot he had access to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling him closer to his body before stopping suddenly, looking at you. "Is it alright if we do this, mi reina? i don't want you to feel pressured," he asked, instantly being shut up as you pulled him in for a kiss once more. (my queen)
He set you down on the bed, his hands working on helping you get undressed before laying you back on his bed. He settled in between your legs, kissing your lips passionately, like he couldn't live normally without a taste of your lips. He kissed down your neck, his hands gently rubbing on your thighs. He pressed small kisses on your stomach before he reached your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit before adjusting himself so he'd have better access. He started licking your folds gently, his tongue dipping your hole teasingly as he chuckled when he saw how you reacted, your hands tangling in his hair to pull him closer. He let his hands rest on your thighs, gently rubbing small circles on them as he dipped his tongue inside, sucking on everything that you would give him.
He exchanged his mouth for his fingers a couple moments later, his pointer and middle finger dipping in and out of you as he tried to ease his way in. "So tight," he mumbled, his mouth closing around your clit as his tongue rolled against it. His fingers moved in a scissoring motion as he eased against your walls, basking in the way your fingers gripped his hair and the way your hips grinded against his face. He let out small moans against your clit, the vibrations going straight through you as your back arched from the bed. He curled his fingers in just the right way, listening to the way your moans started becoming less coherent and the way your back arched from the bed. He continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, his tongue working in tandem against your clit as you babbled something about being close.
He pulled away from your cunt, sticking his fingers in his mouth as he licked your release off. You felt yourself growing more aroused at the scene, pulling Miguel down for a kiss as you moaned softly when you tasted a combination of yourself and his toothpaste. He pulled away a couple moments later, doing quick work of his clothes as he stroked your cheek. "Is it still okay if we do this?" He asked, watching you closely for any signs of doubt. "Yes. Please, I need you Mig," you said, feeling yourself cringe internally at how needy you were being but you couldn't find it in you to care at the moment.
He gently pushed inside of you, his hand wrapped in yours as he circled your palm with his thumb. He wiped away a tear rolling down your cheek, making sure he didn't move until you had gotten adjusted. You focused on relaxing and taking deep breaths despite how big he just felt inside of you, and it was barely the tip. "You can move now," you told him, feeling the ache in between your legs be replaced by something pleasurable. He slowly started moving deeper inside of you, letting out a small groan as he bottomed out deep inside of you. He pressed his hand against your lower stomach, looking directly at the bulge in your stomach as he started moving.
"Such a good girl, taking me in so deep," he whispered, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek. He continued thrusting his hips against yours, moving faster as he felt your walls clenching around his cock like a vice. You nodded, babbling mindlessly about how much of a good girl you were for him as he chuckled, clearly enjoying the sight of the mixture between your boobs bouncing and the cockdrunk state you were in. His thumb traveled down to your clit, gently rubbing small circles on it as his cock abused your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. Your walls clenched around him tightly as you moaned, your release washing over you and creating a creamy white ring around the base of his cock. "You think you can do one more for me, sweetheart?" He asked, gently rubbing your thighs as you nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.
You flipped over on your stomach as you rested on all fours, letting out a small moan as you felt spit dribbling down your cunt. He started thrusting in slowly, your walls clenching around him as he started to move in deeper inside. He started off slow since he knew you weren't exactly experienced when it came to sex, but once you started to move your hips against his, he lost all semblance of control. His balls slapped heavily against your thighs as he snapped your hips, hitting your cunt in ways you hadn't felt before. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he continued to move against you, letting out small groans.
He grabbed you by your shoulders, pulling you upright so your back would hit his chest while he tilted your head to kiss you. "Taking me so good, mi vida," he whispered, feeling his orgasm starting to build up. With the way you were clenching around him, he could tell you were close too so he decided to rub small circles on your clit once more, providing you just the right amount of stimulation. You let out a small moan as you came around his cock once more and the way your walls tightened against him, his orgasm came crashing down. His cum coated your pussy, leaking out when he pulled his softening cock out.
He grabbed a rag from his drawers, starting to clean your legs carefully, making sure not to apply too much pressure so he wouldn't overstimulate you. He laid down next to you once he finished, wrapping his arms against you tightly as he covered you two up with the sheets. You felt yourself growing sleepy with how warm he felt against you but you still heard him say,
"Does this mean I win the bet, mi chula?"
@eddiemxnsonlvr @chshiresins @mimiemie @6thhokageswife
#muchosbesitos#miguel spider man 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara imagine#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 smut#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel across the spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel smut#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#spiderman atsv#spiderman smut
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Imagine Tim holding Brucequest over the Justice League & even Dick & Jason's heads 💀💀💀💀
Heck Tim holding the Timestream incident over Bruce's head because Tim was the only person to actually do anything to save him
((Damian gets a pass because 1. He's a KID whose cult leading gramps was involved, how about No?))
((And 2. The priority for him at the time should have been unlearning the cult teachings of the LOA))
((and also all his other siblings. Alfred too since he has a job dammit))
Tw: Violence
I love petty Tim Drake so much. He deserves to be able to hold his trauma over the people who caused it.
Jason takes the last cookie? "You might as well take me back to Titan's Tower and slit my throat again."
Dick tells Tim he needs to go to bed? "Oh. I see how it is. I thought we talked about you questioning my judgements again, but I see I was wrong."
Alfred lectures Tim about his health? "Now you're concerned about my health? You should have thought about that before putting my mental health in peril for my sixteenth birthday."
Bruce is concerned with Tim's workload? "Maybe the next time you want me to take on less work you'll write a fucking letter instead of spreading vague clues no one else believes is actually from you."
As for Damian? They exchange verbal barbs for fun and take notes from each other. It confuses the hell out of the others because do they hate each other, or are they bonding?
Steph and Tim like to get into screaming fights with each other in public. It's never about their actual fights, but they like how Gotham reacts to it (bonus points if they end up in the news).
Tim and Babs try to sabotage each other's unimportant technology. That fifth tablet Babs hardly uses? Bam! Tim's made it so it plays music whenever it's on and the music can't be turned off.
Cass and Tim just make faces at each other. Bruce has been confused as hell when one of them randomly shouts in outrage due to the other twitching their eyelids wrong.
Tim likes confusing and horrifying Duke by telling him fun facts about the family. He'll tell them in the most damning way to watch the chaos. "The scar on Jason's neck is from Bruce choosing the Joker over Jason."
And that is Tim taking it easy on the Bats because he loves and cares about them (and because it's funny).
The JL?
Red Robin terrifies all of the members who doubted him. The terror doubles when they see him happily chatting with YJ or the Bats. The version of Tim the JL gets is a scarily competent and cold persona. They thought he lost the ability to smile until Red Hood (and who let a crime lord into the Watchtower???) grabbed Red Robin a peace offering Zesti.
#dc comics#dc universe#tim drake#let tim be petty#unhinged tim drake#thank you for the ask!!!!#jason todd#bruce wayne#dick grayson#damian wayne#cass wayne#steph brown#duke thomas#the bats are the furthest thing from a functional family
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One thing that I keep seeing whenever I make posts that are critical of macs is folks in the notes going "they make great computers for the money if you just buy used/refurbs - everyone knows not to buy new" and A) no they don't know that, most people go looking for a new computer unless they have already exhausted the new options in their budget and B) no they don't make great computers for the money, and being used doesn't do anything to make them easier to work on or repair or upgrade.
Here's a breakdown of the anti-consumer, anti-repair features recently introduced in macbooks. If you don't want to watch the video, here's how it's summed up:
In the end the Macbook Pro is a laptop with a soldered-on SSD and RAM, a battery secured with glue, not screws, a keyboard held in with rivets, a display and lid angle sensor no third party can replace without apple. But it has modular ports so I guess that’s something. But I don’t think it’s worthy of IFixIt’s four out of ten reparability score because if it breaks you have to face apple’s repair cost; with no repair competition they can charge whatever they like. You either front the cost, or toss the laptop, leaving me wondering “who really owns this computer?”
Apple doesn't make great computers for the money because they are doing everything possible to make sure that you don't actually own your computer, you just lease the hardware from apple and they determine how long it is allowed to function.
The lid angle sensor discussed in this video replaces a much simpler sensor that has been used in laptops for twenty years AND calibrating the sensor after a repair requires access to proprietary apple software that isn't accessible to either users or third party repair shops. There's no reason for this software not to be included as a diagnostic tool on your computer except that Apple doesn't want users working on apple computers. If your screen breaks, or if the fragile cable that is part of the sensor wears down, your only option to fix this computer is to pay apple.
How long does apple plan to support this hardware? What if you pay $3k for a computer today and it breaks in 7 years - will they still calibrate the replacement screen for you or will they tell you it's time for new hardware EVEN THOUGH YOU COULD HAVE ATTAINED FUNCTIONAL HARDWARE THAT WILL WORK IF APPLE'S SOFTWARE TELLS IT TO?
Look at this article talking about "how long" apple supports various types of hardware. It coos over the fact that a 2013 MacBook Air could be getting updates to this day. That's the longest example in this article, and that's *hardware* support, not the life cycle of the operating system. That is dogshit. That is straight-up dogshit.
Apple computers are DRM locked in a way that windows machines only wish they could pull off, and the apple-only chips are a part of that. They want an entirely walled garden so they can entirely control your interactions with the computer that they own and you're just renting.
Even if they made the best hardware in the world that would last a thousand years and gave you flowers on your birthday it wouldn't matter because modern apple computers don't ever actually belong to apple customers, at the end of the day they belong to apple, and that's on purpose.
This is hardware as a service. This is John Deere. This is subscription access to the things you buy, and if it isn't exactly that right at this moment, that is where things have been heading ever since they realized it was possible to exert a control that granular over their users.
With all sympathy to people who are forced to use them, Fuck Apple I Hope That They Fall Into The Ocean And Are Hidden Away From The Honest Light Of The Sun For Their Crimes.
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cherry wine / max x fem!merc!reader
summary, you were the love his life. everybody seemed to know it, whether it be the way he looked at you or the way he held you on the podium, they knew it to be true.
warnings, lyrics are used, reader is fem, age gap (reader is younger by 3 years). possessiveness. a very cute fluffy set of hdcs of all the times max has loved you in his life. yes, I can do happy fics! marriage. allusions to violence / bruised knuckles.
quick note! I got a comment saying that the song was about domestic violence, to which I was very much so unaware of. Alas, I won’t be changing it as I used the lyrics different to the meaning that the song has. If this happens to be troublesome or bothers you then I recommend blocking me as I use songs for the fact I like the songs - not for their meanings.
he loved you in January, when he kissed you underneath the fireworks at lando’s party.
he loved you when you pushed him into his driver’s room away from the cameras so you could feel his skin on your own.
he loved you in February when you’d have a glossy look in your eyes when you spoke about the new car.
he loved you when he’d hold you to his chest, as you cried because you missed winning so badly.
he loved you when you’d cry at the way he punched that one interviewer in March.
oh mama, don’t fuss over me. the way you’d kiss his bruised knuckles, he loved you.
he loved you in April as you danced under the burning sun, a new win in the record books for you.
it’s a crime that she’s not around most of the time. he had told his teammate, checo. he’d shake his head and slap his teammate on the shoulder. young and in love, he’d call max.
his loved blossomed into something more in May, the way stress would drag you down, eyes blooming into fear struck orbs when you had a crash.
he still remember’s screaming at his team over the radio as they only shook their heads. he loved you then.
he was a fool for you in June, walking to your home to give you fresh flowers. his eyes full of love.
he still remembers the way you kissed him so sweetly, mouth against his own.
in July, he seemed to hold you against him all the time, he kissed you on the sea.
you spent time with him on his yacht, you made love under the burning hot sun, you kissed in the cold sea.
he seemed to wander for you in August, his season not as easy as the last — you struggled to find the words to make him feel better. he told you not to fuss over him.
in September you claimed manier race wins, one you needed, one you loved, one you wanted. he loved the way you laughed under the sun.
in October he loved the way you mewled under him, body sweating and panting, the way you shivered with him as it rained every now and then.
in November he asked you to marry him. you told him he was a fool and he smiled when you said yes.
in December you pushed him under the table at a party, your lips on his was like fireworks. they called you his younger love, he kissed the tears away as they tried to make you feel shame.
he loved you then, he loved you now.
#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x driver!reader#max fluff#max verstappen fluff#max x reader
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Okay so I know cheating izuku isn’t canon so how would canon izuku deal with the death of his son?
Oh that's a hard one. But... its a beautifully sad one.
Cheating Dilf Izuku X Wifey Reader
Warning: Death of a child, coping with grief, depression, hurt to comfort
"It's been a while, Mr Midoriya."
"Yah, it has."
"So how have you been?"
Izuku sat in the couch opposite his agency's therapist. He sat in front of him. a notebook in his lap as he looked back at the green haired man. Izuku had his arms folded over his chest as he sat there, his large frame supported by the grey couch he sat on. He shrugged. "Fine."
"I've heard you've been very busy with work. How has that been for you?"
Izuku shrugged. "Busy. Crime never stops."
His therapist hummed. "How has life been since the trial?"
The trial... It was suffocating endeavour. He hated every second of it. Having to look as Jigsaw, who was alive and well, taken care on taxpayer money and locked behind bars alive, while his son was nothing but a pile of ashes now.
Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his face emotionless. "Fine."
"He got the death penalty. What do you think about it?"
"It's well deserved." Izuku answered without hesitation, his hands gripping his muscles tighter.
The therapist noted something done for a moment before looking back up at him with a gentle demeanour. "Your wife made an interesting statement during the trial. She said, 'Despite what you did to my son, I know he forgives you and he would want me to forgive you. Although I doubt I can ever find it in my heart to do so, I'll try...' What did you think about her statement?"
Izuku was silent as he remembered that day of the trial. You held yourself as gracefully as ever. Even when the forensic pathologist had said the report on how Shoyo and Sero Kimiko's (Hanta and Mina's youngest daughter) bodies were so badly damaged that he couldn't even identify certain body parts of what remained of them, about how there was quite literally nothing to hold or mourn over because they had to be cremated almost immediately. Even when Jigsaw had time to speak and vividly said how your son had cried out your name, begging for you in his last moments of life.
You were composed, other than a few stray tears and an emotionless voice.
"My wife is a better person than me." Izuku stated, remembering his own statement about how the only thing protecting Jigsaw's life was the fact that Izuku had his quirk cancelled for every trial date.
"Speaking of which, how is your Mrs Midoriya?"
For the first time since walking into the room, Izuku seemed to ease just slightly. His eyes fell down. How were you? In total honest, Izuku wasn't sure. When last had he even looked at you? Izuku didn't even take time off to mourn after the trial. He went straight into work.
When last had he seen you? This morning? What did you make for breakfast? What were you wearing?
"I..." He started, his voice unsure. "I think she's fine."
"You think?" His therapist asked softly. "You aren't sure, Mr Midoriya?"
Izuku looked down away from the man that sat across from him. He didn’t answer that question because he wasn’t sure how you were. At some point he wasn’t even sure you left the bed at all after the funeral, but then at some point he knew you were up and around.
“When last did you speak to your wife?”
“This morn-”
“Honestly speak to your wife?” That question had him frozen. “When last did you ask her how her day was, or how has she been coping?”
Izuku knew that his therapist knew that answer. You had been coming to see a therapist as well, a mandatory thing that the commission expected from the both of you but also one you bot probably needed direly. Izuku looked away as his eyebrows furrowed. “Not for a while.” He answered simply.
“Do you not care about her anymore?”
Green eyes flicked up to the psychologist that sat across from him. His eyes were dark and deadly, one that held brewing anger beneath the surface. “You know that’s not true.” Izuku answered back lowly.
“Do I?” His therapist asked with a shrug. The man looked down at the notebook he had, flipping through his pages. “In not one of our sessions have you willingly spoken about your wife or children and when asked, all you state is a simple ‘fine’. It leaves anyone thinking that you find work more important than your family right now.”
“I’m a busy man, I’m the number one hero, I don’t have time to-”
“To have a five-minute conversation with your wife and kids?”
Izuku froze for a second. He let out a scoff as he stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.” He stated as he moved to exit out of the room.
“Mr Midoriya, when you first started seeing me, you told me that I should be harsh and frank with you.” That made the large hero paused. “You told me that if you were going to be sitting here for an hour at a time, I should make it worth your time. So here I am.” His therapist responded calmly as he crossed his legs leaning back in his chair. “You leave out of that door right now, I will have no choice but to inform the commission that you are unfit and unwell to continue your job as a hero and have you suspended of all hero work until I deem you fit enough to do so.” Izuku turned to look back at the man who sat rather unbothered. He smiled as he motioned for Izuku to sit back where he was before.
Izuku let out a sigh, knowing that he should stay. He walked to sit back down where he was, falling back with a sigh as he said nothing more to that.
His therapist smiled. “Thank you, Mr Midoriya. Often than not, the first step to getting better is knowing that you need help and then accepting it.” He reminded the green haired hero. “Now… how are the boys?”
Izuku didn’t answer immediately. When last did he talk to the boys? When last did he see the boys? The last vivid time he remembered his sons’ faces was at the funeral, everything after that felt like a blur. Were they already back at school? “They’re… fine.”
His therapist let out a hum as he noted down something in his notebook. “And how are you?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
His therapist looked at him through his lenses before letting out a sigh. He leaned forward. “Mr Midoriya, you entered the scene where your son had been brutally murdered.” He started off, getting to the cusp of it. “You have, unjusticely, been at the cusp of some media frenzy of them saying that you weren’t fast enough or good enough or still in your prime to have saved your son. You have been working like a dog, day and night and by the reports of your office hours, I doubt you even get more than three hours of sleep. You are out there breaking yourself in half, trying to atone for something that isn’t your fault and you are leaving your family behind. Your wife is currently at home with your children, trying to keep it all together while you are out there when you should be spending time with your family. Mr Midoriya, I’ll ask you one more time… how are you?”
The front door opened as Izuku entered his house. The first thing that caught his eye was the candle next to the photo of the smiling five year old boy who had hair too wild and free and a smile so bright and lovely. Inko had said that Shoyo was a direct copy and paste (minus a few of your genetics) of Izuku. Staring at him now was still painful and yet Izuku gave him a small smile.
He slipped off his shoes and entered the house. Just as he did so, he noticed that there wasn’t the sound of playing in the living room or the sound of boys giggling outside. It was mostly silent. It had been silent for a while now and Izuku wasn’t surprised.
Izuku hated the silence.
Walking out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice was Toshinori, headphones blasting in his ears as he kept one hand in his grey sweats as he manoeuvred out of the kitchen. At the sight of his father, his eyes widened as he jumped, dropping his glass of juice. Before Izuku could react, suddenly dark green tendrils wrapped around the glass.
Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed, knowing he didn’t activate One for All yet. Being carried just a few inches off the ground was Toshinori’s cup of juice with blackwhip coming from his knuckles. Toshinori’s eyes moved to his father. He carefully bent down to pick up his cup before slipping off his headphones, pausing the music. “Afternoon, dad.” He greeted. “You’re back early.” He let out unsure, knowing that normally when- if, his father came home, it would be late at night when he was far too asleep to notice.
Izuku nodded. “I am.” His eyes moved down to blackwhip that slowly retracted itself into Toshinori’s knuckles. He tilted his head confused, pointing towards Toshinori’s left hand. “Since when could you use blackwhip?”
Toshinori looked down at his hand before looking back up at his father. “Since a week ago. Nearly dropped a wine bottle but luckily I caught it just in time.”
“Wine?”
“I cooked dinner.”
“Since when did you cook dinner?”
“Since mom wasn’t able to cook dinner.”
“Since when was mom unable to cook dinner?”
“Depends on the day. Some days are harder for her than others.” He shrugged. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed at that, a pang of guilt seeping into his chest. Toshinori looked to the side for a moment before forcing a smile to his face as he headed towards the staircase. “I’ve got a paper to finish and I need to make sure Asahi is doing his homework-”
“Toshinori.” Izuku put a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. Toshinori paused as he turned to look at his dad. Izuku was slow as he walked closer to Toshinori. He took Toshinori’s cup of juice, putting it on the side table. The teenager’s looked confused before his eyes widened as he was pulled into a hug against his will. He froze in his father’s embrace, eyes wide and his body stiff. “I’m sorry.” Izuku whispered. Slowly he felt his son ease into his hold, slumping against him. “You did good, but I’ve gotta tap you out now. You should rest.”
Toshinori didn’t say a word but he nodded his head, a shaky sigh leaving his throat as he buried his head in the crook of his father’s neck. His hands gripped onto Izuku’s back painfully hard but Izuku didn’t push him away.
After that Izuku went up to his and your room where Toshinori said you would be. Izuku entered the room, to find you sitting there with Koda. Koda had his head in your lap, fast asleep. You looked away from the show about a blue dog on the TV, and to your husband. Your eyes widened in surprise. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him surprised. There were bags under your eyes and you looked drained. You all looked drained, besides Koda who seemed to be enjoying his nap with his little knitted blanket you made for him when he was a baby, over him.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you straightened up. “Izuku… you’re here.” You whispered to him.
“I am.” He affirmed. He looked down at his youngest son. The both of you had consciously pulled him out of kindergarten despite him only being there for a few short months. After Shoyo, the both of you had wordlessly expressed your fear of losing another little sprout. Izuku walked over to you, he picked up Koda effortlessly.
Your eyes widened as you weakly reached up to stop him. “It’s okay, I-”
Izuku shook his head, silently taking your youngest son to his own room. Izuku barely remembered the last time he held Koda like this. The little boy, although asleep like a log, moved to wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck comfortingly putting his head of green hair to rest on him. Izuku swallowed down a sob and fought a frown as he carefully laid Koda to bed, drawing the blinds and leaving him for an afternoon nap.
You were still seated where Izuku had left you when he came back. He closed the door behind him but stood there, keeping space between you and him. Neither of you said anything. This was the most time Izuku had spent in your presence in the past three months that wasn’t him asleep or just passing by.
“How was your day?” You let out quietly, scared of the usual answer he would give you. He would dismiss you without second thought. He didn’t answer, affirming that your question was once again given in vain.
“I…” You looked up at him. His eyes were down casted. “I saw the shrink.”
Your eyebrows twitched up in surprise that he was telling you something about his day that wasn’t just a simple ‘fine’. “And… how did it go?” You asked softly.
He didn’t answer immediately again. You saw your husband’s head drop for a moment. His hands balled into fists and you saw he was trembling. You saw tears fall down his cheeks as he seemed to be biting back a sob. You don’t know with what strength nor from where but you stood up and walked over to him. Right before you could even touch him, your husband crumbled on the floor.
“I’m sorry.” You heard weakly from him.
You went down on your knees joining him on the ground. “Izuku…”
“I failed you.” His voice cracked as he held his hands to his face, trembling in front of you. “I failed the boys, I failed Shoyo. If only I was there just two minutes earlier-”
“It’s not your fault.” You reminded him as you moved your hands onto him, touching him for the first time in months. “You couldn’t have known or have been any faster than you were. You didn’t fail me, or the boys or him.”
Izuku shook his head as he looked up at you with red eyes. “Y/N. I can’t… I…” He fought back a sob as he stopped for a second. “I’m tired. I’m so tired. And- and I’m so sorry I left you all alone.” You stilled at that. You looked away from him fighting your own tears as you tried your best to be the comforting good wife he needed you to be when you felt like anything but. “I’ve been a horrible husband. I haven’t been here for you.”
You scowled as you tried to fight the tears. “You haven’t.” You affirmed softly.
“I know you needed me.”
“I did.” You looked at him, with a mix of anger and disappointment but mostly sadness. You gasped as you let the tears fall. “And you weren’t here.”
He shook his head with a sad smile. “I wasn’t.” You didn’t look at him as you looked down at your lap. “But…” You felt one of his hands move you to look up at him. “I’m here now.”
There was a knock at the door. “Mom I-” Entering the room was Toshinori who paused. Lying there in bed, with his arms around you was Izuku. The both of you were dead asleep, bags under your eyes and faces puffy but you were both asleep. Together.
Toshinori eased. He gave a small smile as he decided he’ll let the both of you sleep.
-Glitch1d
#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku x reader#mha x y/n#bnha#deku x reader#dilf midoriya#dilf deku#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#izuku angst#midoriya izuku angst#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you#mha#kirishima x reader#izuku x reader angst
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Some Zevlor Things —
EDIT 12/2/23:
Added a few more things
A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.
There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).
It reads:
Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter.
It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame.
By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies.
When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.
Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:
"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."
Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3
Dialogue in the Caves:
Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus.
Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.
—
Tilses: Commander—
Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember?
Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take —
Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that.
Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor
—
Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist?
Zevlor: Pardon?
Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting?
Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.
—
Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet?
Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it.
Zevlor: Yes, of course.
ITEMS —
in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.
The blade says:
A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.
The gloves' flavor text says:
A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.
Celebration at the Camp:
"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe."
"Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..."
"No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them."
"No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."
Mindfayer Colony:
Things he mumbles in the Pod:
The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:
After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.
If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:
If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:
He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:
If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:
If you tell him to get out of your sight:
When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:
If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."
If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:
At the Netherbrain:
(smiling <3)
"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."
I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]
If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:
if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).
His stats at this time:
(Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)
Post Game (Patch 5)
I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:
I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve.
It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power.
I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not.
It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content.
Come and see us, when you can.
Zevlor
It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.
#zevlor#bg3#baldur's gate 3#act 1 spoilers#act 2 spoilers#bg3 spoilers#this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort#i also want him carnally#act 3 spoilers#bg3 meta
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Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.
Words: 1.7k
Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)
This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD
forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love
Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.
You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.
But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.
Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.
Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.
"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."
So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.
The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.
"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"
"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."
Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."
"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."
"And you're here because you're also concerned?"
You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”
Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.
His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of
You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.
He's criminally dashing.
After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.
How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?
Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”
“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”
Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.
“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”
You grinned. "That's all I need."
He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.
His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.
Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.
"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"
"You know it'll last longer than thirty."
"I doubt that."
His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.
"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"
"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."
His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.
Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.
"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"
"Shut up and just touch me, please."
He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."
He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.
It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.
Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.
But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.
Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."
His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.
Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.
He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.
"You didn't squirt? What a shame."
"F-fuck you."
"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."
Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.
"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."
Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.
His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.
The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.
You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you.
"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"
"Yes yes yes…!"
One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"
You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.
"No-not too much. It'll show."
Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"
"T-they'll find out."
He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."
Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.
"That's it. Give it to me."
Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul.
"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."
You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."
Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.
With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.
Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."
Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.
"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"
#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#spiderman smut#spiderman fics#marvel smut#marvel fics
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