#most silly looking cat in the world I LOVE HER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nomazee · 1 year

Text

open up

sebastian (sdv) x reader

word count: 3.5k

content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word

notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here, and part two here!

oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah)

<><><><><>

Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything.

It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test.

So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you.

In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm…

So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have?

You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.

While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem.

It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt.

This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers.

Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh.

Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator.

A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were.

…

Okay, well. You lied to yourself.

It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle.

Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating.

“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead.

You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often.

“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate.

Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.

“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation.

“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed.

There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this.

A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf.

“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well.

The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again.

“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.”

Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness.

“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck.

“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”

He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit.

“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times.

“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!”

“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip.

You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out.

“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself.

“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you.

The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.”

“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?”

Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though.

“Hussy.”

“What?”

“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”

This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers.

He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?!

“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”

There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them.

“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.

Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight.

“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times.

Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective.

It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.)

“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!”

It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too.

“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”

Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean.

“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare.

Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means.

“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square.

He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips.

“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.”

You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. “Dinner plans.”

You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that.

And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways.

You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language.

And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really.

You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course.

#stardew valley x reader #sebastian x reader #sdv x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv #stardew valley x farmer #sebastian x farmer #sebastian sdv x farmer #stardew valley fanfic #sebastian fanfic #sebastian sdv fanfic #I DID IT GOOD LORD #ill write a makeout scene to make up for this #maybe #...hopefully

1K notes · View notes

meiiie · 6 months

Text

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 1)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: uhh this is just a silly little imagine.. no one is probably going to see this post anyway but i’m new to this so this isn’t really the best thing i wrote, i hope u still enjoy reading this LOL i’ve also added my OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this, um slight nsfw mention near the end but no actual action, thats it i think! yeah that’s it, happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 2

word count: 1.5k

It was a normal day, going to school, attending your classes, eating lunch, procrastinating your school works, submitting homework… attending more classes… rinse and repeat. But today was not what you expected, like.. at all.

ring ring… ring ring… you pick up your ringing phone while walking down the street, on your way to the convenience store.

“hello.?” your voice turns out more tired and groggier than you expected “hey when are you getting home sweetie? the food is getting cold and its already almost 6:30 pm, where are you?” your mom says with a worried voice, you could already imagine her face by just hearing her voice

this week has probably been one of the most stressful weeks of your entire life, class has been giving more school works, more due dates, you probably see your life flashing before your eyes right now “um yeah i’m on the way home already, don’t worry mom!” you say attempting to make your voice sound enthusiastic “well you better not be hanging out with that pretty boy.. actually maybe you should invite him for dinne-”

“mom— i—“ you cut her off but then you sigh giving up to even explain. “…he’s just a friend i swear..”

this supposedly ‘pretty boy’ your mom is referring to is Dave Lizewski, this guy in your class who you were paired up to work on a major project so he’s been at your house a few times already. surprisingly you get along with him really well? you’ve even become a part of his friend group including your best friend Melilah. She always points out the fact he always stares at you whenever you all hang out in Atomic Comics and during classes, but you’ve never really thought about him that way, or maybe you were considering it?

while walking down the road the street lights flicker a bit and you see someone trying to hanging onto the ledge of a billboard of some sort. you hear the figure shout at the cat sitting, waiting for him to fall “FUCK YOU MR BITEY!” his voice echoes, but wait.. why does his voice sound so familiar…? “okay okay okay, but call me and update me on where you are okay? be here quick, i love you!” your mom says- *THUD* you quickly look at the direction where the person, you assume, fell “UH yeah i’ll call you! i love you mom, BYE!” you say hastily, almost whispering.

beeeep.. beeeep.. you hang up the phone call, quickly putting your phone back in your messenger bag and hide behind a car. you spot a green figure, uh, “what in the world is that…” you think to yourself. the figure is wearing a weird.. cosplay suit.. it’s almost as if he looks like a green condo-

your thoughts are interrupted as he storms off looking frustrated, most probably because of the cat he couldn’t save.. he walks hurriedly into the dark alley. for some what reason you felt a little curious, just a little bit. so you go and follow the ‘super hero’, “this is so stupid.. someone remind me why I’m doing this to myself?” you whisper to yourself as you hide behind a pole, (you think this helps you stay hidden but you should’ve seen dave’s face when he saw you) trying to get a peek at the stranger. he takes off his mask angrily, you watch his curls fall into place, there are some scratches on his face from the fall, “damn why does he look so fine” you say in your thoughts and then you realize.

those are the blue eyes you see everyday in school, THAT’S DAVE LIZEWSKI. you silently gasp covering your face. his eyes dart at your direction, he shudders at the sound of your noise then next thing you know you start running away like a cockroach flew at your direction “WAIT!” he shouts, good thing you ran quick enough so he probably didn’t see your face, key word: probably.. actually there was no reason to be running from him at all- but you just felt like it..? considering you’re still in your denial stage about your feelings for him, who wouldn’t? you open the door to your house and get in as fast as you could just in case he followed you. the tv is bright and the news displays the text in bold ‘SUPERHERO KICKASS SAVES THE DAY’ you stare at the tv in shock because that’s… how… he’s Dave..?

your mom pops out of the kitchen “hey your back home! i thought you were going to call me to update me where you were..- oh yeah that superhero… what’s his name? Kickass? apparently he stopped a bunch of guys yesterday who were trying to beat up another guy that was in front of a convenience store and a bunch of people saw it then recorded blah blah blah you get it” you just stare at the tv in shock. “hello…? earth to y/n?”

it’s been almost 2 days, you’ve been avoiding Dave, trying not to make eye contact with him, passing by him in the halls, not even acknowledging his presence, even avoiding the hangouts to Atomic Comics, despite the fact you still have to do a major project with him. you open your locker getting books out of your locker, “hey have you heard about those two new superheros? Kickass? and Red Mist?” Melilah questions and your eyes widen at the question, only being reminded of Dave “yeah- well- i think its kinda dangerous doing that you know? being a um.. a superhero? why are people even so into them nowadays?” you say hesitatingly “ugh you are such a buzz kill, anyways Todd and Marty invited us to hangout… in Atomic Comics…” she looks like she’s about to ask a question, but she hesitates “go on.. continue” you gesture her to reply “why are you like.. i don’t know avoiding Dave? we’ve all kind of noticed that you know and the tension is killing all of us..”

you close the locker door and bring her to an empty classroom, you say “okay i know this sounds a bit crazy but DAVE IS KICKASS.” she “pffts” at your statement then turns to look at your face again, “oh.. your being serious” she says “YES I’M BEING SERIOUS?? i was on my way to the convenience store right and Kickass or Dave- i don’t know anymore was trying to save this cat then falls from this thing- anyways he walked in the alleyway so i was like ok i’ll just follow him! what could possibly happen!? then he took off his MASK SO THEN I RAN AWAY AND HE WAS LIKE ‘wait!🤪’ BUT I KEPT ON-” Melilah tries to comprehend everything, slowly nodding… slowly.. she whispers loudly “OKAY KEEP IT DOWN SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU, okay so are you SURE this was Dave?” still whispering

“a HUNDRED percent.” you say trying to defend that you weren’t just seeing things

she sighs “well what are we going to do? I already told them we were going to be there..”

“you said WHAT?”

“okay okay chill they didn’t say Dave was coming, they obviously noticed how awkward it was with you guys so why would they invite him right haha.. haha…..” she laughs nervously

after both of you gather your thoughts you find yourself already settling down in a booth, in Atomic Comics, contemplating your life decisions. fidgeting nervously already imagining what’s going to happen. hoping not to see him. Melilah comes back after gathering a bunch of comic books to read while waiting for them to arrive. “hey stop fidgeting your going to be fine, plus he doesn’t know you know. right…?” you both just stare at each other. you both start praying in unison—“lord give us the strength to-“

“give you guys the strength for what?” Todd interrupts, you look behind him frantically to check whether Dave was there or not. to your surprise, he wasn’t. does he know? did he see my face when i ran? what if he doesn’t like me anymore? wait. why did that even matter? Todd and Marty took a seat beside Melilah leaving you alone sitting at the other side of the booth, obviously planning something.. “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks, you kick her leg from under the table making a face screaming WHYAREYOUBRINGINGHIMUP. in fairness the both of you didn’t know whether Todd and Marty knew about it too, you shoot a glance at her giving a ohhhhiunderstandnow look to what she’s doing (spoiler alert: you've got the wrong idea, she was in fact not helping you) “i think he’s fine i guess, to be honest Red Mist is way cooler though because of his cape and all..” Marty says with Todd nodding his head to show that he agrees

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere observing the conversation from behind your booth, making you jolt “y/n that just came out of nowhere what in the world.” Melilah says right after staring at you for a few seconds while Dave is making eye contact with you, smirking like he knows something. the conversation falls quiet.. real quiet… “okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts, i wonder what happens next?

a/n: and the rest is history, I hope this was good enough lolol hope you enjoyed reading! (pt. 2 coming soon)

#Spotify #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski oneshot #kick ass imagine #kick ass one shot #kick ass x reader #aaron taylor johnson #gif not mine #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson x reader #im only realizing now that this imagine is so ass omfg #meiiie imagines

242 notes · View notes

avelera · 9 months

Text

Weird thought but like... if Dream can appear as any species and does for what those species expect, one would think he'd have had animal lovers over the year. I don't mean in like a bestiality sense just like... there's gotta be a nice cat somewhere that thinks the all-black Maine Coon with the shining eyes is neat.

But then I thought about it, and I could come up with an explanation why not, along the lines of "it's doom for mortals to love the Endless" and Nada's instant knowledge that loving an Endless is bad news. Like it catches her by surprise and she's distraught when she realizes what Dream really is and that she'd missed it.

So I'm sort of thinking... animals just know. They know the Endless are bad news. Like the entire universe knows. To animals, they smell strange, they're clearly "other", they're something else wearing your face. They might be kind, they're not immediately dangerous to you most of the time, but you don't mate with them any more than you would a rock carved to look like a member of your species (I know, I know, some animals are that dumb but bear with me).

What you need in order to have a living being fall in love with an entity like the Endless is to actually be further removed from the natural world. As part of an early human civilization, Nada was dismayed and angry with herself that she didn't realize Dream was Endless sooner. Like this is knowledge that normally one should have. And this is y'know, within 4k years of Gilgamesh, because the dates Neil uses are a bit silly, but there is a major thread in Gilgamesh of what is lost when humanity left nature for civilization that's sort of reflected in Nada's dismay. Like this is a tool humanity once had, this instant recognition of the Endless, that has since been dulled by the complexities of civilization. Normally they'd listen to that inner voice and just know.

You have to be a little perverse to fall for the Endless. You have to be attracted to the idea of your own doom or able to rationalize it. You have to be able to fall in love with things, with things that aren't your species that might even be a predator to your species. You need to be removed from nature and the cycles of survival. You need to be out of touch with that inner voice that says, "That is not one of us."

Which is why Killlalla's civilization was advanced enough for her to date Dream, for example. But for the most part it is only humans and humanoid divinities that are removed enough from survival to consider it.

On a more humorous note, what this translates to is a house cat taking one look at Hob Gadling and going, "Y'all motherfuckers are insane. Do you know what the hell that thing is??"

#dreamling #sandman meta

332 notes · View notes

scp230kinnie · 11 months

Note

Hcs for the titans mcs pls (Dick, Gar, Rachel, & Kori)

Lowkey gonna marry whoever sent this 😜

TITANS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

I assume you meant relationship, so here’s that

Characters: Dick Grayson, Rachel Roth, Gar Logan, Jason Todd, and Koriand’r

Genre: fluff 😜 relationship hcs

Warnings: SPOILERS ⚠️ mentions of death & injury. Slightly suggestive. None of the characters mentioned are mine, all Headcanons are made up by me, not canon whatsoever. Everything said/mentioned is fictional.

On with the fic

Dick Grayson

He a baddie

He tries actually so hard to keep you out of danger

I feel like he would try to hide the whole titans thing from you if you didn’t know about it, but realistically finding out would be inevitable

He can always tell when you’re lying. It’s like a sixth sense to him

As a matter of fact, he can tell when anyone lies to him

He probably likes it when you help patch him up after a fight (not that he would admit it)

If you’re expecting a man who’s open about anything (his past, etc) you have another thing coming

It would take a lot for him to actually open up

Even if he does open up, he doesn’t like telling you much about his time with Bruce.

Dont bring it up either lol

Man is so touch deprived omggg

It’s not exactly that he never got it, it’s more that he never wanted it

He would like flinch if you ever touched him, but he would get used to it

He has a fat ass I wanna slap it

If you do that, he’s probably gonna slap yours back

No PDA. Holding hands at the MOST. Unless you’re upset or hurt, then he’ll give you a quick hug or something

He likes to stay serious generally, but sometimes he’ll be silly and it’s so cute ong

He wants you to stay away from the crime fighting scene.

He even gets scared for your health in case one of his enemies decides to go for you

He would try to teach you some self defence

If you are a crime fighter, he helps you train, and stays close to you on missions if he can

His favourite part of your body is your face. He loves looking into your eyes or kissing your lips or cheeks

Next 😜

Rachel Roth

She’s probably so sweet and understanding

You are always her main priority

All she ever wants is to keep you safe

Sometimes, she gets very distant because she can’t control her abilities and she doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you

If you didn’t already know the titans, she would absolutely introduce you to them as soon as she can

She can’t help but smile when she looks at you

She gives you her clothes if you want <3

She’d only open up after a while, it wouldn’t take too long, but she would still be a little distant

She loves being close to you and like hugging you or holding hands

Very up for PDA

No making out or anything, but will hug you and hold your hand in public

She just thinks you’re the most interesting person ever

She remembers every word you tell her

She would probably get matching piercings with you omgggg

She loves painting your nails to match hers

Like Dick, she can also tell when you’re lying. (But that’s just a side effect from her abilities)

She always posts pictures or videos of you on her social media if she has any

Will always offer you an earbud if she’s listening to music, will be very happy if you do the same

She loves learning about what music you listen to

Loves getting matching anything (hoodies, rings, even online profile pictures)

Her favourite part of you is your eyes or your hands

Garfield Logan

When he sees you’re upset, he will say the worst jokes he can think of to make you laugh

Even when you’re not upset he does that anyway

He just loves hearing your laugh or seeing your smile

He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

Absolutely LOVES playing video games with you

It’s literally his favourite thing in the world

If he notices you’re cold, he might give you his jacket for a bit

Will defo turn into your favourite animal for you

Especially if it’s a dog or a cat so he can cuddle with you

Opens up so fast tbh

It’s good tho that means he trusts you

Little spoon fosho 😜😜😜

He loves holding or touching you in some way

Loves PDA sm

Just loves proving you’re his

The titans probably knew about you the first day he saw you💀

He’d get you guys matching white shoes and get sharpies to Color them together <3

Would draw a wiener somewhere on em tho

PAINT HIS NAILS

He would make you do some stupid ahh tiktok dances with him

Would give you some stupid nicknames

His favourite thing about you is 100% your hair. He would absolutely adore touching it/playing with it, no matter the length

Jason Todd

He a little cute patootie

IDC WHAT HES DONE

Everyone he talks to knows about you tbh

He’s just so proud of you

He makes so many sexual jokes it’s wild

Also always grabs your ass 😢

Gives you some cringe nickname

He doesn’t like opening up, I can understand that

He prefers hearing you talk, rather than him

Would protect you with his mf life

Also would teach you to fight

He wants to know that you can protect yourself when he’s not there

Adores it when you clean his wounds or rub his shoulders after fights

He’s pretty secretive but would probably break down one day and tell you everything

Would definitely give you his hoodies/sweaters

Into PDA

He just likes to prove to everyone that you’re his tho

Loves to hold you

His face part of you is ur nose

Easy to kiss

Koriand’r

She’s gorgeous my wife

She seems more stoic, but she really cares about you, more than anything

She loves to talk shit with you tbh

Only abt people who deserve it ofc

She loves when you make her laugh, it makes her feel more comfortable with you

Matching jewelry 🔛🔝

Loves it when you play with her hair

She can’t really use words to express how she feels about you, prefers to use her actions instead

She doesn’t want you to think differently of her because she is a princess or whatever

She’s had plenty of past lovers, but she knows you’re her favourite

She’ll take a while to open up, but she will eventually

Doesn’t do PDA

Or very much physical affection as it is

Will still hug you tho <3

Like everyone else, she will do everything she can to protect you and make sure you don’t get hurt

Will k word anyone who looks at you the wrong way

She’s very protective

And kinda jealous

She loves every part of you lowkey

The end guys idk what else to write

627 notes · View notes

roxygen22 · 3 months

Text

ABCs

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Summary: 4-year-old Ben (AKA Bean) starts to learn his ABCs

C/W: None that I can think of, 100% tooth-rotting fluff

<><><><>

Willy came home from the factory a little earlier than normal one winter day to hear you and Ben chattering excitedly in the study. Not wanting to interrupt, he quietly tiptoed his way to the door and leaned on the frame to take in the scene.

It was too cold to play outside, so you made the most of being stuck indoors. You and Ben were sitting on the rug in front of the fire, your backs to the door and surrounded by papers with a few large, handwritten letters. "Alright, Benny, let's go over these one more time before Papa gets home." Willy hid himself further behind the door frame so he didn't spoil their practice time.

"What letter is this?" You asked as you held up a paper.

Ben concentrated. After a brief pause, he confidently announced, "A."

"Very good! What sound does it make?"

"Aaaaaapple," he exaggerated. "Nood-uhl, nood-uhl, apple stood-uhl," he sang. "We go see her?"

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm sure she will love to hear about your progress. Now, what's this?" You held up Ben's favorite letter, never getting enough of the reaction it elicited.

"B is for buh-BEAN!!" Threw up his arms in excitement with such force that he rolled to his back and spotted Willy at the door. "Oh - hi, Papa! You look upside down," Ben giggled as he splayed out on the floor like a starfish.

You looked back to see Willy kneel down with a gleam in his eyes. "Huh, you look upside down, too, Bean. Let's fix that." But instead of helping the boy upright, he picked him up by the legs. "Oh no!" Willy gasped with fake alarm. "Bean is going to see the world upside down for the rest of his life." Now you were giggling, too. You were in love with an overgrown boy, apparently.

Ben laughed and laughed. "No, Papa, you hold me upside down!"

"Oh goodness gracious, my apologies, young sir." Willy flipped Ben upright and set him on his hip. "Is that better?"

"You silly, Papa. Do again!" Willy dipped him backward a couple more times before he sat down in the arm chair with Ben in his lap.

"Alright, back to business. Can you tell me what you learned today?" You handed Willy the sheets of letters.

"A is for aaaapple. B is for BEAN," he shouted.

"And Ben, and Benjamin, and Benny," you reminded. The boy had procured a number of names in his short four years.

"What letter is next, Bean?" Willy asked as he flipped to the next page. You had not yet covered the letter C, so you weren't sure how Ben would respond.

"Umm..." the boy looked at you tentatively. You shook your head at Willy, who tilted his head up in acknowledgment. He decided to continue on with the lesson himself.

"C is for cat! That was one of the first words Aunt Noodle taught me. Want to know what else starts with C? Chocolate!" Willy scooped Ben up with one arm and helped you up with the other. With his family in his arms, he started to waltz and spin around the study singing, "Only Wonka's makes your eyes pop out their sock-elets!"

After a few minutes of dancing, the whole family plopped down on the sofa to catch their breaths. Willy was sandwiched between the two of you, your head on one shoulder and Ben's on the other. He looked down at his two loves and breathed out a contented sigh before kissing Ben on the crown of his head. "You're doing great, Bean. I am very proud of you. Soon you will know how to put those letters together to spell words. I was FIVE TIMES your age before I learned, so you are way ahead of me."

Ben looked up at Willy with wide eyes. "Aunt Nood-uhl teach you?"

"Yes, and it was hard, but it was even harder to go through life without knowing how to read. Which is why I'm glad your mother is teaching you early." Now it was your turn for a kiss on the head.

"Papa, we go to lie-berry tomorrow?"

"Sure, Bean. We'll stop by on our way to the factory. Aunt Noodle said she has a book for you about animals. It even has tigers and giraffes! Two very important words to know how to spell..."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

MASTERLIST

123 notes · View notes

allysunny · 7 months

Note

how would you feel about Miguel x deceased!reader angst like he is looking at old videos of his old life with Gabi??

Fragments of Yesterday | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: Character death, blood, descriptions of violence, angst, very sad Miguel. If I missed anything, please do let me know!

A/N: I AM BACK??? I am SO sorry for the delay! Uni has just started once again, and I was busy sorting everything out. These first few weeks are super hectic, and I barely had any time to write. Anyways, I hope you like this piece! I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it - I think I've written better stuff. I love the ending but something feels off, maybe it was too abrupt? Not sure I like how it turned out. But! It's very angsty and sad, and I had a blast writing it because I LOVE writing angst (shocking!)

Also, I tried to do some more research on the spanish language and on how to use endearement terms. I would hate to be disrespectful to a culture and language that isn't mine, so if there's anything wrong with the spanish here, please do let me know, and I promise I will do better! I'm also deathly afraid of fetishizing Miguel and his culture, so please do call me out if my writing ever does that. It really isn't my intention.

Anyways, I hope you guys like it! I haven't forgotten about my other requests, and am working on them :) Just please, be patient with me. Thank you! <3

“Papa! Papa, look! Doesn’t Mama look gorgeous?” His precious little girl said, pulling him by the hand. The camera he held captured only what was before him, which shifted in just a few seconds. He’d been sitting down on his living room’s couch, camera pointed at the floor as he tried to figure out how to get it to work. Then, he was crossing every room in his apartment until he was met with the sight of you, standing right in front of your mirror.

“Stooop looking at the camera!” Gabriela shouted once more, tugging his arm. He did what she asked, placing it down and walking towards you. Your daughter looked adorable in her pale pink dress, all frills and ribbons, a flower headband adorning her head and pulling her curls back. “Look at her! Look at Mama!”

And so he did, and wow.

You looked…

Wow.

“Cat got your tongue, Miggy?” You looked over your shoulder to give him a flirty smile. Your face was in full display, since you’d pushed your hair back to form a ponytail, and only a single rebellious strand fell, giving you that air of effortless, timeless beauty Miguel has always considered you to have.

He took you in. The dark blue dress that fitted you perfectly, long, silky sleeves flowing as you moved around. The sweetheart neckline was flattering on your body, hugging your figure in all the right ways, and making your husband salivate just by looking at you.

“Doesn’t Mama look like a princess?” Gabriela asked once again, looking up at you in awe. You smiled and bent over, taking her cheeks in your hands, and placing the most tender kiss on top of her forehead.

“You’re the princess, mija. You look wonderful.” The little girl beamed, hands resting on top of yours. She then turns to her Papa, who’s still smiling like a fool.

“Answer, Papa!”

You tilted your head to the side, smiling at your husband.

“Go on, Papa, answer your daughter.” You said to him with a small chuckle.

Miguel gathered his thoughts. His gorgeous wife was standing right next to his beautiful daughter. The two most precious people in the entire world were standing right in front of him, making this a sight to remember.

“You’re right, mija. Your Mama does look like a princess.” You blushed at his words, doing a silly little twirl for him and your daughter. Gabriela’s jaw fell wide open, and she clapped happily, claiming you really were a princess.

The you in the video got closer, meaning Miguel approached the both of you with his camera. Turning it around, the three of you could finally appear in one frame together. Him, all sharp cheekbones, and tired eyes, you, all dazzling smile and sparkling gaze, and your daughter, a sweet mix of the two.

“Say hi to the video,” he said happily, and the both of you obliged. You, waving gracefully, and Gabriela doing it as if her life depended on it.

The video ended.

Right away, another one started.

“Shhhh, she’s sleeping!” You hushed your husband as soon as he stepped into the room. You’d been nursing little Gabriela for a while now, and after what felt like an eternity, she’d finally fallen asleep. Her tiny mouth was parted, and the slow rise and fall of her chest was a gentle reminder that she was alive and well.

“Just wanted to record this moment,” Was the reply Miguel gave you. He pointed the camera at you and melted at the sight. Lately you’d been complaining about your appearance – your hair felt dry and flat, the bags under your eyes were huge, and your body had gone through a lot of changes. But Miguel?

He saw a beautiful and radiant woman, whose body had transformed to accommodate his child. Whose smile was ever as dazzling, whose eyebags were a testament of the love and care you had for your daughter. He saw a goddess, and he hoped his video camera lens could capture that.

“She looks like you.” You said with a smile, finger lightly tracing the round, chubby cheek of your child. “I personally think it’s quite unfair. I did all the work.”

“I’d say I worked quite hard myself,” Miguel replied, sitting close to you, and giving you a chuckle, “I mean, if it weren’t for me…” You raised an eyebrow, and Miguel was quick to shut up, but not before giving you a light chuckle. “Fine, fine. I guess it is unfair.”

He placed the camera on top of the small coffee table in front of the couch and placing a protective arm around your figure. His hand came up to caress his little girl’s head, and although you weren’t used to the sight of mighty Miguel O’Hara becoming putty whenever he saw her, you couldn’t say you weren’t pleased.

“Mis hermosas chicas…” He mumbled, glancing up at you. You swore you could see pure, sheer, raw adoration in those eyes of his. How you loved whenever your husband got like this, when he sat down and idolised the hell out of you and your little girl.

Big bad brooding Miguel O’Hara was a lovesick fool, and a proud father. How sweet.

The last video was the most recent.

“Come, come, Papa! Hurry up!” This point of view was odd, floating up in the air, ominously overlooking the O’Hara family. Gabriela had asked Lyla to film the occasion, and she happily obliged.

“Mija, I’m not exactly getting younger, slow down,” Was the lie he told her – as if he, the one and only Spiderman, could not catch up with a child. Still, he adored playing into Gabriela’s antics.

“Keep your eyes closed, otherwise it’ll be spoiled!”

You smiled at the two of them, cautiously watching from afar, to make sure your daughter didn’t accidentally have Miguel run into a wall or a door – there was no way you’d let something like that ruin the surprise the two of you had spent days preparing.

“Watch your step…” Gabriela muttered, carefully leading her father down the stairs to the rooftop of your building.

A spider-sense would be useful on most occasions, but Miguel found himself trusting you completely. Besides, it’d only ruin the surprise. He didn’t want that. He’d seen the small gestures that were meant to keep him far away, found the both of you whispering and plotting on the couch, only to loudly change topics as soon as he walked in – his wife and daughter were very thorough about this surprise.

“Alright, you can open them in three… two…. One… Sorpresa!” Gabriela yelled excitedly, pointing at the lively scene before her.

The roof was nicely decorated, full of lights and colourful balloons. There was a small table with a very expensive-looking bottle of wine, and his favourite empanadas. Hanging on by a few stripes of colourful tape, was a banner with the words “Congratulations on the promotion!” hand drawn on them.

Miguel was speechless.

He’d confided in you that he was going after a promotion at his job. He started working longer shifts, coming home at the oddest hours, and barely getting any sleep, but it eventually paid off. Not only was his salary better, but he would be able to spend more time at home, spoiling his wife and watching his little girl grow.

A smile graced his features.

“You did all this for me, nena?” He asked, turning to face Gabriela who smiled at him proudly.

She nodded enthusiastically, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him near the table.

“Mama helped! Look, we have all your favourites. I even helped make the empanadas! And we got those crunchy fries you like – see? Congrats Papa!”

It was hard not to feel happy. He had always found his daughter’s happiness to be the most contagious thing in the world, and often found himself indulging in whatever shenanigans she might have, if only it meant keeping a smile on her face. The same applied to you – Miguel was whipped, to say the least.

Which was why everything had become so much harder when the two of you passed away.

Miguel remembers it as if it was yesterday.

An anomaly had broken loose on HQ – a Green Goblin variant, one who wasn’t even supposed to exist, vicious and cruel. It resented being locked up by the leader of the Spider Society and was out to get whatever or whomever he loved the most. This man was cunning. He evaded every single Spiderman Miguel sent after him, even going as far as to almost knocking him unconscious, and, hiding in plain sight, stole whatever records Miguel had on you.

They were mostly safety plans and protocols, but with the help of the technology from his own (somehow inexistent) universe, the Goblin was able to find you and Gabriela. It took a while for Lyla to wake Miguel up. He was nearly out, and those few moments he spent on the floor trying to regain consciousness, had been precious. If it weren’t for those moments, perhaps you’d still be alive.

You were picking her up from school, walking hand in hand as she told you all that happened to her that day, recalling every single detail. You were smiling, and so was she.

As soon as the Goblin left HQ, Miguel knew exactly where he was headed.

From then on, it felt like a race against time.

His heart pounded loudly against his chest – he needed to get you to safety as soon as possible.

Miguel asked (more like demanded) Lyla to call you, and for a few mere seconds, it seemed like everything could work out. He tried to sound as calm as possible; there was no need to freak you out, not when you had Gabriela with you, and the most important thing was getting you to safety.

“Hey honey,” You greeted him with that warm tone, and Miguel could swear he could hear your smile in those words.

“Hi Papa!” Gabriela interjected, to which you chuckled.

“I was just picking her up from school – “

“Mi amor, listen to me, I need you to get Gabriela and hide, right now. Just do as I say, please, find somewhere you can hide, and – “

He was cut off by the sound of a scream, coming from the other side of the phone. A scream that was most likely yours.

He ran faster, swung faster, he as much as flew to you.

But while Miguel tried to hurry the shock up to get to his family, the Green Goblin was already there, frightening you and Gabriela, who had walked inside a bakery to get a treat before heading home. You were standing in front of her, in a feeble attempt to protect your little girl from harm.

“Stay back!” You yelled, removing a small gadget from your pocket. A sort of mix between a gun and a taser, a small invention Miguel had concocted to keep you safe. Should it the target, they’d feel terrible amounts of pain not only from the bullet, but also from the electricity said bullet would shoot through their body. You fired it once. Then twice. Then a third time, but to no avail. The Goblin’s suit was too thick, and you’d perhaps have made the same damage if you threw rocks at him. It was useless.

“Well look who we have here.” His words were acid, disgusting and lethal, and they almost made you cower before him. Almost. You had to be strong for Gabriela. Miguel was sure to be here soon, you knew it. “Such a pretty little thing. And his offspring.” The way he said the word made it seem like he detested the taste of it, and for some reason, it made you stand taller in front of your daughter.

“Let’s see how he likes feeling the same kind of despair I did.” The Goblin snarled, seizing you with only one arm. He was big, bigger than you, bigger than your sweet Miguel – this creature was a monster, and a big one. Grabbing you seemed like an easy task for him.

“Mama!” Gabriela yelled, arms reaching up to try and pull you. It didn’t work.

“Let me go, you disgusting vermin!” You pounded your fists against his chest, tried slapping him, punching him, clawing his eyes out, but it seemed like you were only tiring yourself out instead of harming him. “When Spiderman gets here…”

“Spiderman? Oh, you poor thing. You really think Spiderman will come?”

“He’s here! Spiderman’s coming!” You could hear the relief in Gabriela’s voice.

But that relief did not last long.

The Goblin looked to his side, snarling as soon as he spotted Miguel, who was approaching at an abnormal speed.

“Well, well…” The creature snarled, looking between you and Miguel. “I wish I had more time. I do like a bit of dramatics. Hey Spidey? You watching?” Having said this, the creature strengthened his grip on you, and, after floating a few meters above the ground, released you. Well, he didn’t simply release you. He threw you against the floor with all the strength he could muster.

Time seemed to stop for him.

It was like Miguel could see you in slow motion, tears falling from your eyes as you glanced at him, silently begging him to do something. The life you two had carved with each other flashed before your eyes. Meeting you at that shitty empanada place, bringing you flowers, saying “I do”, holding you tightly as you clutched that positive test in your hands, crying with joy at the sight of you with your daughter, kissing you before going to work. They replayed in his mind repeatedly, and he all but flew in your direction, hoping he would be fast enough to save you.

The loud “thud” coming from below him informed him of otherwise.

In that moment, Miguel didn’t know what to do. He had no idea what had just happened. He couldn’t process the information that was standing right in front of him. You, limbs contorted in a billion different positions, eyes wide open and terrified, a big pool of blood forming by your head.

What was happening? Why were you on the floor? Why weren’t you moving?

Miguel was used to death. He was used to not being able to save everyone – more than once did you have to coax him back to sleep after nightmares, ones that derived from his inability to get every single person to safety. But actually seeing you on the floor like this? It was the hardest thing Miguel had ever tried to process. He had never accepted the idea of you dying. In his mind, he’d always be able to save you.

“Spiderman! Spiderman please – help me!” It was Gabriela’s frightened voice that made him look up from your figure. And he wished he’d done it sooner.

Miguel had to deal with villains and anomalies in a daily basis. Some liked talking. Some liked taunting. Sometimes, these two characteristics managed to buy him some time, managed to get him to save the civilians, to get him to save the day. But this Green Goblin was different. He wasn’t interested in talking. There was no self-centred monologue, no well-crafted speech that allowed him to swoop in and save the innocent passerby. This Green Goblin was out for blood.

“Hey Spidey,” The Goblin was once again floating midair on his platform, holding Gabriela by her neck. Shocking hell, her neck. Miguel used his webs, swinging as fast as he could, following the creature, who, with every word, floated higher and higher. “Remember what you told me back in your little Society? That you would defeat me? What were the words you used? Oh. That’s right, you said you’d crush me.”

Shit, shit, shit. Why was he so damn slow. Why was the Goblin so damn fast. A few more meters and he’d be there. A few more meters and he’d be holding his little girl, he would save his little girl, he’d save her and take her home, everything would be fine –

“I guess I’m the one who’s doing the crushing now.”

A rippling scream came out of his daughter’s mouth.

The kind of sound no parent should hear coming from their child.

He could hear the sound of bones crushing. The sound of breath coming to a halt.

And then, as if the girl was nothing but trash, he released her.

Miguel lunged in her direction, and by some miracle, was able to get a hold of her before she fell to the floor.

“Gabi, Gabi, look at me. Talk to me Gabriela, please.” He mumbled as soon as he safely landed on the floor, hands coming up to check her face. And that’s when his eyes landed on her neck. Her small, frail neck, completely shattered by that monster’s hands.

Miguel doesn’t quite know what happened next. He saw red, and the only thing he remembers, are the limbs of the Green Goblin scattered around the street. Some in his hands. Some on the floor. The creature’s throat was right under his foot.

And what came next was pain.

Unbearable pain.

Learning to live without you and Gabriela had been the hardest thing he had ever done.

In fact, it was so hard, he still didn’t know how to do it.

There were the nightmares, the terrible nightmares he had the first few months. He saw your death in his dreams repeatedly. Miguel couldn’t close his eyes. If he as much as blinked, he would be met with your figure, lying on the floor, lifeless eyes filled with tears, or his daughter’s tiny neck in that horrible position.

It was as if all the good memories he had with you had vanished, giving room to the awful images of your dead bodies.

So, he settled for the videos.

Visual memories of the three of you as a family. Some of you were from Christmas time. Perhaps you were decorating the Christmas tree, as a fitting playlist (most likely chosen by you) played in the background. He had a few of Gabriela opening her presents. Soccer balls and equipment, books on her favourite hobbies, a big teddy bear and other toys a child her age would like.

Videos of the three of you out on dates. At the zoo, pointing at the giraffes and laughing at their silly smiles. At the park, eating ice cream and observing the clouds.

Some videos were just from the two of you. Walks in the park you wished to remember, lazy mornings long before Gabriela was born, where you set the camera on your nightstand and press kiss after kiss against his naked back, picnics on the rooftop of your apartment.

Miguel would forever be grateful to you, for always bringing a camera everywhere you went, or insisting to record every waking moment your family spent together with your phone. It had been these recordings that Miguel turned to on his darkest hours.

Sometimes, Peter B. and the kids found him hunched over his desk, silently crying as he clutched your daughter’s teddy bear in her hands. He would whisper to it, apologising profusely for not being able to save her, for being a terrible father and an even worse superhero. The group had also caught him whispering words to the framed pictures he had of you. He’d cry and ask for forgiveness, ask for advice, ask for a sign that you were still with him, somehow.

It hurt to see Miguel like this.

He refused to be Spiderman for a few days, claiming he wasn’t good enough to protect the city. If he couldn’t protect you and Gabriela, surely that must mean he is not fit to save anyone at all. But with a lot of convincing from Peter, he realised that your deaths were the reason he had to protect the city. To keep things like these from happening ever again.

Miguel looked at the screen in front of him.

You were so gorgeous. You always had been. Even when you looked away in embarrassment, or when you woke up, hair tousled in every direction, or bent over the toilet, puking your guts out. You were so beautiful. Right now, he watched as you helped Gabriela get ready for her birthday party, combing her hair and putting it up on two little pigtails. Your little girl looked radiant. Everyone said she looked like Miguel, but he saw you in her eyes, in the way she smiled, in the way he helped others.

In fact, Miguel saw her everywhere.

He saw her in the gentle way the sun kissed his skin whenever he felt too defeated to wake up. He saw her in the way his pieces of bread looked like funny shapes. He saw her in the way birds played with each other midair, chirping and spreading their wings in a sign of freedom.

And he saw you too.

Whenever the breeze blew lightly against his face, he could swear it was your lips he felt against your temple. Whenever his food was too hot against his tongue, it was as if he could hear you say, “Slow down guapo, the food ain’t going anywhere”. Every time he saved someone, he could hear you, oh so vividly, as you praised him and told him you were proud of him.

Learning to live without you and Gabriela had been the hardest thing he had ever done.

In fact, it was sohard, he still didn’t know how to do it.

But he was learning.

And if his wife and daughter stayed by his side like this – he was sure he could do it.

A/N: That's it! I hope you guys liked it! I can't wait to show you guys what other requests I've been writing. They're all so creative!

Have an amazing day, everyone!

209 notes · View notes

spdrvyn · 9 months

Note

reader (an average human) is the owner of spider cat (who does not know the cat has spider abilities) and accidentally enters a portal into 2099 only to get in trouble with miguel for trespassing and it escalates into a brawl of who knows the cat more (this goes on for weeks) and eventually is resolved by a date and co-parenting the fur baby like its their child SOBS (ill let u the name the cat whatever u want it to be tbh)

tooth and claw — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: you love your cat more than anything else in the whole world, the whole multiverse possibly. however, your limits are tested when you find out that he's been hiding a huge secret from you.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: silliness. fluff. lotsa romance. a grown ass man tussling with a little cat. gender neutral reader.

NOTES: i love this request so much!!! i fucking love cats yo!!! sorry for getting to this request so late, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!! not proofread because it is LATE as i post this but ya 🙏 this was so much longer than it needed to be holy SHIT

Pawker was a good kitty. Most of the time.

He was polite to you, in his own special little ways. While being a complete, irrevocable asshole to literally anybody else that just so happens to cross paths with him.

But at the same time, that's what you enjoyed so much about being his owner. He was special, loyal to you and you only. All the affections, purring, soothing pets were reserved for just you.

He also doesn't weirdly abide by regular cat law, he enjoys being groomed. At least, by you. He enjoys taking baths if you're in the tub, whenever you have to give him a nice bath every once in a while he'll always be patiently sitting still and giving you the cutest look ever as if he's expecting you to get in with him. It made your heart melt.

That's not what most of your family would think anyway, you still remember the messages of unmistaken horror that practically sent your phone vibrating off of your desk when your mom sent you picture after picture of her arms littered with scratch marks after she tried giving your precious cat a bath.

Whenever you had people over, it would be a challenge. Pawker would normally stay in one spot that seemed always designated for him while he tried to jump anyone that walked by, or he'd hide under the couch and you'd always have to pry him out, soothing him by placing him on your lap and giving him scratches on his ear while repeatedly apologizing to whoever you were talking to.

You still loved him all the same.

You've built your whole lifestyle around him, your sleep schedule could now be compared to that of a literal vampire because of how often Pawker would run around your now shared bedroom, accidentally knocking things over in his wake.

One time, you had passed out on your bed after an exhausting night of typing your soul away on your laptop that you had mistakenly left open from how tired you were. Pawker got zoomies, and you were spending money on a new laptop the next morning.

This night was no different, maybe a little as you were up by choice. The only part that really hadn't changed was Pawker's frantic zooms across the room, over your bed, bouncing off of your feet at the end of it. It made you giggle at the sight, he was so cute.

Your thumb was working hard, scrolling endlessly through the never-ending posts popping up on your social media. Watching people you barely knew live sad, cat-less lives unlike you who was blessed with this spawn sent from above made you feel better about having Pawker in your life.

It also made you sleepy apparently, your eyes growing heavy from looking at a screen for a concerning amount of time. You fall asleep with your phone still in your clutches, light snores sneaking past your mouth while Pawker still remains as lively as ever.

Weird dreams were also a common occurence for you. This time, you were falling. From a really great height, you've been thrown off by some villain that you couldn't recognize that was in a fight with your city's vigilante, Spider-Cat.

Spider-Cat let out a drawn-out meow when it caught sight of you being thrown off of the skyscraper, running to you on it's tiny four legs before falling off itself to catch you. It reaches out an itty bitty and a web shoots out, attaching to your chest however it doesn't break your fall as you hit the street of New York City with a hard, resounding, bloody—

You jolt awake, in a pool of your own sweat. Eyes blown wide, like you actually met your own demise on that street in your dream. Rubbing your temples, you groan. It was still relatively early in the morning, you could get a peek of the sky brightening up from your window but there was no sun. Not yet. It was too fucking early for this.

You set aside your phone on your bedside drawer, grabbing hold of your blanket, and getting ready to pass out again until you hear it.

Loud meows ringing in your ears, those familiar loud meows that keep you up at night. With a sigh, you throw your covers to the side and get up from the bed. Opening your door, you walk into the living room of your apartment, and are met with an unexpected sight.

Pawker— your Pawker— in Spider-Cat's get-up. His attention seemed to be drawn on something that he was wearing on his wrist, a tiny little watch that had a small hologram talking to him?

What the fuck was going on exactly?

"Pawker?" He jumped in place, turning his head back to you. The lenses of his mask, combined with his mouth contorting into a more than guilty expression. You put your hands on your hips, looking him up and down like a father who caught his son with a hand in the cookie jar.

"What are you doing? What's that?" You continued to question the fluffy fiend as if he could grow the ability to speak at any given moment. He hid this from you for so long, so who knows? Maybe there were other abilities that you just didn't know about.

Step-by-step, you slowly approached Pawker. Ready to scoop him up into your arms and rip that watch off of his cutesy little paws, his ears move to what you're used to calling 'airplane ears', which means he's ready to fight you. Challenge accepted then.

Before you could even think of snatching him up, Pawker manages to somehow press a few buttons on that goober of his and it opens up–

A portal?!

A portal that he looks like he's about to jump through and he does, "Pawker, wait!" You yell out, but no. You're just met with a dizzying array of colors from the portal, and the miscellaneous items in your home floating all around you.

Where was your cat even going? You wanted to follow him so badly, see wherever this thing took you, but there's a chance that without that gadget he had on his wrist that it wasn't safe for you to do that at all. Maybe you'd lose Pawker forever at this point.

No, no. You were not going to lose your cat. Even if it meant hopping from portal to portal, from dystopian landscape to dystopian landscape to do so. You were going to get that fucking kitty back.

You jump in without a second thought, your only motivations were getting your vigilante feline back even if it's with a fight.

Your first impressions of traversing the multiverse were a lot more different than what you experienced in reality. Instead of ending up instantly in the dimension that Pawker had went to, you were flown straight into what appeared to be a tunnel?

You'd look around aimlessly as you continued to be surged through this strange pathway, a burst of pain shoots through every single part of your body, and it feels like you're dying and being resurrected all at the same time. It was madness.

There was so much going on, in the distance you could see webs strung together like they were all connecting somehow. Octagons it looked like you were flying through, but it all passes quickly once you're thrown once again into something.

Rubbing your head and groaning in pain, you try to reassemble your bearings and your thoughts after trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. As you looked around, taking around your surroundings even more. You sigh of relief when you're not completely swarmed by eye-bleeding colors, but rather met with the darkness of an empty hallway.

It's as empty as it can get anyway, there's tech literally everywhere. Some gadgets and gizmos a little too complicated and advanced for you to understand, it didn't help that you already had a searing migraine boiling to the surface because of what just happened for you to get here too.

To the best of your ability, you walked through the hallway, occasionally tripping over yourself from the absurd amount of tech junk that littered each tile that you walked on. You were probably going to kill whoever let it get this messy, your body had suffered enough in such a short amount of time, and you were still clad in your pajamas because why would you even think to change?

You had tripped over one final wire before ending up at— god, how could you even begin to describe what this place looked like? There were multiple brewing strands, different kinds of messes that you'd probably kill yourself to try cleaning, but the most eye-catching of all in this cave is the elevated platform in the middle of it all.

You'd inspect even further, maybe even try to climb the damn thing, but for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, you're caught off-guard when you feel something attach to your chest. You look down, red neon ropes stuck to your torso.

Of course, you were too caught up in your investigation to even notice the pair of red lenses peering at you in the darkness of this mad laboratory. You gasped as you were tugged harshly, way too harshly to the point where you were pulled onto your knees. Two more shots of that strange red rope were on your hands, effectively pinning you to the ground as you continued to struggle.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not how your night was supposed to go!

Whoever attached these webs to you seem to walk out of the shadows, your eyes train on to each detail of this guy's suit. A Spider-Cat, Spider-Man? logo that looks so edgy that you'd mistake it for a skull, futuristic lights emenate a small glow and they decorate different parts of his suit.

He had broad shoulders, which made his waist look absolutely criminal. His wrist was held out and as he walked closer to you, you understood where that webbing was coming from now. He was also tall, impossibly tall as he towered over you while you were on your knees, presumably on the floor of his office.

Hello, sailor!

Your gaze trailed to his other hand, under the faint gleam of the monitors of the platform above, you swore you could see claws. It only convinced you to keep tugging at your bindings, otherwise you were going to get completely shredded to bits at this point.

Your heart bounced off of the walls of you ribcage, you could practically hear it in your ear. Loud, repetitive, rapid thumps as from the corner of your eye, you can see him getting closer and closer.

However, he stops. Just in front of you that you practically have to crane your neck up to get a good look at his face.

"You know them?" His voice is rough, gravelly, his claws retract and he puts a hand on his hip before turning his head sidewards and out from the darkness strides Pawker.

Your face brightens up at the sight of him, your pounding heart doesn't slow, but now it's for an entirely different reason as you relish in the familiar and fluffy feeling of Pawker rubbing and purring up against your restrained arms.

"Pawker!" You all but squeal, cooing at him especially as he begun making biscuits on the webs that stuck your hands to the ground. The noise makes the other, less important man in the room flinch and he puts his wrist down. Bringing his hand to rub his head.

Still, even once you were reunited with your cat. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, who was this man that he was just with? Was he a threat? Maybe Pawker is a supervillain rather than a crime-fighting vigilante and this guy is apart of the whole operation? Although, judging from the awfully snide face that Spider-Man carried even with the mask covering his face, it seemed he had his own suspicions towards you as well.

You were the first to break the silence, the assumption that you were your cat's owner had already been confirmed so it was safe to assume that he wasn't going to kill you. "What were you doing with my cat?" You tried to keep your tone level with his, but it was so hard. How could you when your pet was confiding with him?

Your question probably pissed him off from the way that a nearly silent groan slips past his lips, curses uttered under his breath. He kneels down before you, retracting his talons again, and cuts you free from the webs. A pang of relief crashes over you as you rub your wrists - still looking at him, eyes filled with curiosity.

He stands up once more, outstretching an arm to you. "Get up, you're going to have to pay a lot of attention to understand."

Once he was able to get you seated and able to get some sort of wristband on you, he had finally explained exactly what was going on. You understood a little more than half of what he was saying, one would assume that he was a scientist of some sort from the extremely fancy, almost pretentious choice of words he has.

Down to the basics though, his name was Miguel O'Hara. He was the leader of an elite strike force that apparently your cat was apart of, the same cat that you've grown to love over years of being and living with each other that would practically yodel for your attention after five fucking seconds of not getting pet.

You almost couldn't believe it, yet you were also so impressed. Who knew your little baby was a superhero?

After finishing the long-winded discussion, Miguel waited for you to ask your share of questions, and you had plenty. Some of them were miniscule, just idle queries that he begrudgingly answered - although one that you had in mind was Pawker's schedule.

He was a fat cat, there was no denying that. Constant check-ins with the vet, scheduled meals (you had no money for a fancy automatic feeder), and not to mention regular pet care stuff.

You were quickly dismissed by Miguel after a short amount of time though, something something anomalies something something. You weren't able to catch most of it. Again, fancy language and scientific terms you couldn't bother understanding.

Before you left, Miguel promised that he'd probably drop by your apartment sometime in the following week to discuss details on your cat. You didn't know whether to be excited or intimidated. But it was best that you pondered on that once you were done being sent back through the tunnels of multiverse travelling, which was less painful now that it was back to your dimension.

A few nights pass, almost too many nights, and you almost think that he's not gonna come. It'd make sense, he seemed very busy. Hell, that was the reason why you weren't able to stick around his 'spider-cave' any longer.

Soon enough and just as you're about to switch the kitchen lights off, the scattered papers and calendar that you'd set down on the counter hours ago begun to float. Yellow, pink, purple, and so many other colored hues shined against the surfaces of your kitchen. Next thing you knew, Miguel was here.

He was still clad in the exact same suit that he wore the night that you met him, mask on and everything. You thought that you'd get to at least meet him again with his face shown, but it was fine. Mostly.

The discussion went as smoothly as you thought it would. Awkward silences were common throughout, it was to the point you faked bathroom breaks just so that you didn't have to sit through it all. At times, Pawker even had to interrupt by hopping on the counter and knocking things over.

Throughout it all, Miguel kept his mask on. Even as you offered him a glass of ice cold water, considering how it was going to be a long night, he declined. You set it on the counter for him anyway, just in case he'd change his mind later.

It's an hour and a half into the night, he had to drink something.

"You're going to get a headache if you stay dehydrated," You bluntly pointed out just as he finished explaining only god knows what, you could feel the stress that'd built up from his job in the sigh that he lets out. "I'm fine." He insists.

Rolling your eyes, you lean forward on the surface of your counter and a little bit forward to him. Seeing if there's any signs that he's going to pass out soon, "If this is about your secret identity, you already told me your name. How shameful is showing me your face?"

You don't get much of a response from him besides an annoyed huff, that is it. You grab the glass of water on his side and slide it over to you, taking it in your hand. "Just a sip, and I'll drop it. Okay?"

He doesn't seem to relent, you want to raise your voice but Pawker is napping. "I think I reserved the rights to see the face of my cat's dad."

Miguel pauses his scribbling on your calendar, lenses of his mask noticeable widening as he slowly turns his head to you. The marker in his grasp tightens as well as he says, "What?"

You want to chuckle at his reaction. "Am I wrong?"

He seems to just stare at you like a deer in headlights, before his eyes narrow at you once more. You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk erupting on your lips. "Why? You think you're too pretty for me or something?" You tease.

Even as he's masked, you could feel him roll his eyes. "Yes, my face is too handsome for mere mortals." He quips sarcastically, and before you're able to get out any more smartass remarks, he reaches a hand out to yours. "Give me the shockin' glass."

You move your hand towards him just a few more centimeters before he snatches it from you, holding it in front of him as he takes off his mask. It fades out, pixel by pixel.

Now you're the one in headlights as you slowly take in every detail of Miguel's face. He looks like a marble statue, you think. Slicked back, dark brown hair save for some messy strands that fall onto his forehead, ones that he has to run his hand through to fix. Cheekbones sharper than any knife that you probably have in your kitchen, a refined jawline, thick eyebrows, plump lips, and his nose-

Hello... sailor...

"Happy?" His voice cuts through whatever thoughts were running rampant through your mind as he takes a sip from the glass.

Your composure slips. "Yeah, very."

The night passes quickly, so do the next few nights. With that time, you get to know Miguel and Miguel gets to know you.

If you were lucky, you would be able to hear more about the nature of his job past the missions or operations that your cat was involved in. Sometimes you'd get to hear small utterances from under his breath about canon events and anomalies.

Your job wasn't as important as his, just a simple desk job that you were allowed to work from home sometimes. Which was beneficial for you because that meant long and peaceful afternoons with Pawker on your lap, purring away.

Even if you felt that your occupation wasn't as life-saving as Miguel's every time you remotely even brought up your personal life, talking about plans you have later in the week or dinner dates with some of your friends, he always seemed so intrigued.

Leaning forward in his seat, dark crimson eyes concentrated on yours as you went on long rambles about random niche topics, with his head resting in his palm. He'd think you haven't noticed, but you most definitely have.

You mostly only talked about yourself though, it made you feel a little entitled. You didn't know if you were just self-obsessed or if Miguel didn't want to even talk a single peep about his personal life.

But after a while, batting your eyelashes, encouraging teases, he relented. It felt like all hell broke loose.

There was definitely something more in this partnership, if you could even call it that anymore. That joke you made about Miguel being Pawker's cat dad started to feel like less of a joke as time went on.

It started with more visits, sometimes even in the middle of the day rather than the dead of night like usual. He (and his A.I. assistant that you only found out about a couple days ago) found a way to hack into your phone so that you could receive direct messages from him.

It moved on to treats for Pawker. Whenever you begun to run low on cat food for him, a fresh supply would enter your pantry mysteriously followed by a text from Miguel minutes later asking if it was okay.

The gifts continued to upscale in size and expense, going from cat beds to a new, advanced automatic feeder.

When you thought that Miguel was done emptying his wallet for Pawker, the gifts started to direct towards you instead. Although, they were still cat related. Sometimes, little phone charms with a polite looking ginger cat decorated at the end of it would end up on your nightstand. Once you two settled down on the stools behind your kitchen counter, he'd even pass you small tokens moving from cat to more you related.

His excuses? I happened to be shopping in this store and I thought of you. There was a great deal and I just couldn't pass it up. They gave me an extra one for free.

And as he dished out each one, the least convinced you got. It was so hard for you to try returning the gestures as well, but when you could you saw in his eyes how much he appreciated it.

Love was a constant feeling in your everyday life, seeing Pawker curled up at your side after waking up from a long night always made your heart squeeze. However as you continued to talk and talk and talk with Miguel, there was this unfamiliar ardor that grew and grew and grew in your heart.

It was undeniable, you were in love.

And you were going to do something about it.

Miguel's schedule conflicted with yours most times, even if you tried being sneaky with finding out what days he was free, it was like fighting a losing battle. Which meant that there was only one option left for the both of you.

You knew that Miguel was going to be coming over again tonight, which meant that it was time to spruce up your apartment. You had cleaned the moment you got home from work, dug a little deeper in your wardrobe for your better items of clothing, and brought out the good wine.

It seemed that you weren't the only one excited for this surprise date, Pawker was oddly more well-behaved tonight compared to any other night. Staying inside your room, and you haven't heard any claws scratching at the door or vocals for the past thirty minutes.

You waited for midnight to hit as you anxiously clutched the bouquet of flowers that you bought on the way home, you basically feel the petals falling out from how tight you were holding it.

When you sensed the shift in gravity, saw the colours light up the dimness of your apartment, and smiled once Miguel walked through, you'd prayed he wouldn't jump hack into the portal once he caught sight of you.

And thank god, he didn't.

"Hi." is all you're able to say as you hand out the flowers for Miguel, it seems that he dressed up for the occasion. Partially at least, you could still see his suit from under the long sleeve shirt and sweatpants. His large hands take the bouquet from you, eyes darting back and forth as if he was in a dream.

"What's all this?" He asks, tone dripping in absolute disbelief at what's happening right now. Perching himself down on one of your stools like he was about to pass out. God, you were amazing.

"I know you don't have time for things like this so, I took matters in to my own hands." You sat down beside him like you always do, pouring wine into his glass then into yours before taking a big sip.

The look of wonder and awe as Miguel admired your little date set-up made you feel absolutely victorious, he had to put the flowers you got him on the counter otherwise they were going to fall out of his hands from how stunned he was.

"I thought I'd take initiative, you know before you go bankrupt from constantly buying me and Pawker gifts." Miguel chuckles at your witty comment, taking your hands in his, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. This is probably the happiest you've ever seen him, and you took even more pride knowing that you'll be the only person to make him feel this type of way from now on.

"I've– I've been wanting to ask you out for a while, with the gifts and all, but our schedules and I wasn't a hundred percent sure that you liked me."

As he says that, one of your hands slip out from his grasp and your fingers cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, hearts in his eyes as he does so. You were addicted to him.

"I think you'd have to buy me a new heart too because there's no way that I wouldn't like you back," It was strange to think that all of this happened because you found out that your cat was a vigilante, you never could have imagined that your first love would be a grumpy, emotionally constipated, superhero from another dimension, but you were more than happy with what you got now.

After your words sat in the atmosphere a little longer, Miguel brings your hand to his chest where you could feel his heart beating faster than a race car. "I want to kiss you, please let me kiss you, cariño."

You frantically nodded your head, standing up from your seat so that you could be on par with his height as your arms move to his shoulders for support. "Okay."

Then he kisses you.

Bold, passionate and those two are words aren't even enough to describe it. Your fingers find his curls, tugging at them softly to try getting him closer to you and he moans into your mouth. His hands paw at your waist, digging into the sides of your body so that you can slot in-between his legs.

Once you two separate, it's hard to catch your breath. You pant heavily, head lolled against his shoulder before small snickers slip past your mouth. You couldn't believe you just fucking did that.

Miguel pulls you off of him, but still keeps you close. Looking you deep in the eye, thinking that he's going to pull you in for another kiss until—

Meooooooowwwwwww...

You freeze in place, brows furrowing as you quickly turn your head to your bedroom door, waiting for a few seconds before that grating sound of claw marks against wood rings in your ears again and you sigh. Miguel doesn't seem entirely fazed though, his grip on your waist loosens as he allows you to step back.

"Someone's upset." You state, taking slow strides over to your door. You don't want to leave Miguel yet.

"You can take it if you want," He shrugs his shoulders, spinning the wine in the glass then taking a sip. "Then we could continue where we left off." A wolfish grin curls at his lips.

Without hesitation, you open the door. Cooing and reassuring Pawker that you still loved him even though Miguel's tongue was down your throat not even a minute ago.

What a cat he was.

requests closed, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #gender neutral reader #gn reader #spider cat #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #fluff #romance #falling in love #long post

220 notes · View notes

bvclee · 7 months

Text

frog plushie — Kang Haerin / Danielle Marsh

kang haerin x fem!reader x danielle marsh

GENRE: love triangle, wlw, angst ?

WARNING: heartbreak?

english isn't my first language

you never liked frogs, even worst, you despited them. one day, when you were little, a frog jumped on you and it was one of the worst fear you ever had. silly, but still scary for you. since, you would usually side eyed and judge people who liked them.

your trainee years were now over and luckily for you, you had made it to a new girl group, newjeans.

when you first met haerin for the first time, you did noticed her passion for frogs. she was quiet and sweet. why would a adorable human like her would like something as horrible as frogs, but you grown to like frogs.

bunnies always shipped you two y/nrin but daey/n was the most famous ship in new jeans, followed by daerin.

user: "so cute, i love daey/n"

user: "grumpy and sunshine, daerin 4 ever?"

user: "y/nrin is so cute, look how y/n looks at her! ❤️❤️"

"'#daey/nrin jealous war'. this so dramatic, i love it." hanni puffed, adjusting herself besides hyein, who just read out loud the twitter tendance.

you groaned as you roll your eyes at the two girls sitting on your bed with wide smiles.

"just because she gave a plushie to–."

you stopped the vietnamese mid sentence with another groan, making the shortest girl giggled even more.

hyein was reading tweets about it, watching the same videos over and over coming from different account with different way to show how you looked at danielle when haerin gave her the frog plushie.

jealousy.

and everyone could tell you were jealous.

"it was a frog-."

"i hate frogs!"

"we know!" they affirmed in unison before you rolled your eyes once again, letting your body collapsed onto your bed with a loud sighed.

you knew you liked haerin, you always have. still, she loved frogs so much.

'tomato frog', she always drew everywhere she had the chance to. you loved her drawing, and even if it was a million of frogs, you would still enjoy it. because it was, haerin.

her cute obsession about those 'tomato frogs' was helping you to appreciated them, but after the frog plushie accident? you hated them more than ever, more than you ever hated frogs your whole life. you simply hated frogs plushies now.

and you deeply wished you were at danielle's place.

"y/n..." danielle knocked on your door waiting for you to open, silence for a moment before you opened with an annoyed face, hurting her heart.

danielle hated when her friends and her had problems, and even more when it comes to you. she couldn't bare the idea of you hating her at some point.

"we need to talk... i don't know what's going on but i hate it. please talk to me y/n." she almost begged making you surprise, it the very first time you were ever mad at her.

her eyes pleading for some kind of any forgiveness, she sure knew the reason, she just didn't wanted to admit it.

you thought about what to say for a moment before sighing.

"im sorry, it's just..."

"haerin?" she cut you off with a grin and you understood something, she knew about your obvious crush on the cat eyed girl.

you simply nodded as she hugged you. her arms felt warm, a hug by a friend that cared for you. danielle was your friend.

but deep down, the australian wanted more. she never wanted to be only your friend.

if only you were hers, if only you didn't liked kang haerin.

but danielle would never do something to hurt you, if she had to put her happiness to the side for the one she cared the most about in this whole world, she would.

and that's what she was doing at that moment, she was putting her happiness to side, she was giving up on you for haerin. she was forgetting her feelings for you, so you could be happy with your fellow member.

danielle always liked you, she liked you before haerin ever noticed the way you smiled when someone said something nice to you.

she liked you before haerin even noticed your existence.

danielle hated how you cared about this thing, she hated that stupid frog plushie.

and at this moment, she just wished to be haerin.

"y/n is so grumpy this days." haerin remarked letting herself fall next to danielle as minji positioned herself against the opened door.

"yeah i noticed, it's like she's mad at you for some reason." the oldest stated, crossing her arms against her chest.

the cat eyed girl looked besides her, danielle marsh. the girl she had feelings for since she ever spotted her. danielle sighed, her eyes glowing almost like she was about to cry.

"unnie? don't be upset i'll find a way to talk to her about it, i promise!" haerin declared trying to reassured the taller girl.

danielle smiled sadly and it made haerin heart beat faster, it felt like her words were stuck in her throat and her cheeks felt so warm. that was the effect danielle had on her.

"i don't think you understand, haerin. you should take back this plushie." danielle tried to smile as sweet as she could, handing back the plushie to the younger girl.

leaving haerin confused as she stood up walking toward the door probably going to see if y/n was back from some photo shoots.

minji raised an eyebrow knowingly at danielle as she smiled. she sent her a teasing look and a grin and danielle rolled her eyes giggling.

"don't you find cute how danielle is down bad for y/n?" minji asked not waiting for an answer as she left to tease danielle some more.

haerin liked danielle, but danielle didn't like her because her heart was for y/n and only y/n.

she looked at the frog plushie that danielle gave her back, she felt disgusted by the it now. haerin threw the frog away her heart feeling heavy. she hated that plushie.

how to be y/n, haerin wished.

#x reader #gxglesbianlgbt #x female reader #lgbtq #wlw #newjeans #lee hyein #hanni pham #kim minji #danielle marsh #danielle marsh x reader #kang haerin #kang haerin x reader #daerin #daerin x reader

259 notes · View notes

ruporas · 8 months

Note

apologies if you've already been asked this but do you have any favorite trigun fics? i absolutely adore your art btw!

thank you!!! and i've answered this on insta, but i don't think i've ever shared on tumblr... i'm not good at reading fics, esp long ones, because my attention span is pretty bad, but from the ones i have bookmarked, i'll share some that i like in no particular order

hills like white elephants (meet me halfway) - adlvnam

pairing: vashwood word count: 1.1k, sfw, vague post v.10 spoilers ‘I read a story once,’ Vash says, unsure. ‘I’m kind of thinking about it right now.’

i like a lot of adlvnam's fics, i find them very unique and creative in their execution, and their writing is wonderful! this was the first fic i've read from them and it's stuck with me ever since. others that i like from them are in manus tuas (no spoilers) and vox dei (warning for post vol.10 spoilers).

stay - Anonymous

pairing: vashwood word count: 2.3k, sfw, no spoilers “Hold up,” Vash groans. He presses his free hand to Wolfwood’s mouth and shushes him. He’s probably going for a stern look, though between his poor attempts to stop grinning like the biggest idiot this side of the planet and the way he’s patting him, it’s hard to take him seriously. “Stop laughin’. Where’s the keys?” “What keys?” Wolfwood tries to ask, muffled by Vash’s hand, and his tongue is a little thick and slow in his mouth so… something comes out, but it’s probably not very wordy. Word-like. Not a sentence, probably. (or, wolfwood and vash get drunk, bicker, and then share a bed together.)

i enjoyed the mundanity and silliness of this fic and i think about it from time to time... i think fics where one of them or both drink together are pleasant to read.

Last Summer - varilien

pairing: vashwood word count: 741, sfw, no spoilers You are what you love.

tags on this one are "sunrises, morning routines, coffee, sentimental" which caught my attention. very sweet and beautiful.

Rain - Kokohamstar

pairing: none, wolfwood centric word count: 768, sfw, major spoilers - post v.10 Ever since he was a little kid listening to Bible stories, he dreamed of the day the world would be washed clean and wondered what the rain would feel like on his face.

as most wolfwood centric fics, it was a gutpunch and melancholic, but still soooo.. augh.... the last paragraph really does it for me.

water bucket blues - fathomfive

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.7k, sfw, major spoilers, post trimax Vash the Stampede goes on the record about a friend he once had. Also about card games, cats, family, and some other things. "Start with a piece of the whole, Meryl said. It doesn’t have to be the first piece. Start with a specific. That’s what they mean when they throw around the words human interest. I know the pieces. Believing they make a whole is another thing. But she’s a broadcast professional and I trust her advice. Maybe if I can figure out how to tell one piece—like the story of Wolfwood as I knew him—I can learn how to tell the others."

i love vash pov fics and i love it when it's first person and this one in particular hits because it's his pov and he speaks, honestly, openly, telling a tale that he can't really flub because it's about the people he loved. i love how grounded this fic is in the present of max, i love how vash grows within the 3.7k words, i love how he moves forward with the world he's living in. this fic makes me teary if i think too much about it... it's really wonderful.

it’s a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world - goldenglitz

pairing: vashwood word count: 3.9k, nsfw, no spoilers Vash has the lung capacity of a man who’s cried for 150 years. It isn't like Wolfwood takes more than he gives — but like with most things, he barely keeps up with Vash. He works his body to the limit, even as his lungs burn and his legs and arms give out under him. They fuck like they’re on borrowed time. All of this makes it so easy — so much easier than just talking. Wolfwood would sometimes rather pull new and interesting noises from Vash with just his mouth than do anything else with it. Their own dialect: moans, groans, and four words. “Yes” — “Please” — “Vash” — “Wolfwood.”

i love all of their vashwood fics, they only have 3 but they're all lovely and has a sort of characterization to both vash and wolfwood i don't see often. definitely one of my faves, especially when it comes to explicit vw fics.

i think these are all the ones i'll share for now!!

#asks #thanks for sending this!#one day ill get around to the chapters long fics that has really enticing summaries #most of the fics i like tends to be more trimax based i realized... It's not that surprising but i always go like yay yippee whenever i fin #a more max-canon fic - not something i intentionally hunt down for but i have my bias dmgkgs

183 notes · View notes

cinnbar-bun · 3 months

Note

i loveeeeeeeeee your robin writing!! would love to see you do more nico robin x gn! reader

A/n: you didn't specify anything so I made some general hcs!

Rating: SFW

Notes: GN!Reader, Fluff

General Nico Robin Relationship HCs

Likes to learn about different hair styles and types in order to best fix your hair or care for it. She’s been reading up on the best way to treat your specific hair type, don’t worry. Her many hands makes it a breeze.

Occasionally, some jokes/phrases fly over her head and she will take it at face value, not understanding what you mean. If you explain them to her, though, she’ll have an amused smile and chuckle.

You’re one of the few people she’ll trust with her in a bath. This is especially big for her since her Devil Fruit powers no longer work in the water, but she know she can fully trust you.

Enjoys dates where she can dress up in full glam and be by your side. Things like a night at an opera or a fancy restaurant are her type of thing (when/if she feels like going out).

Little tidbit: after eating at the restaurant/seeing the opera, if you two walk around the city at night, she’ll have this far out, dreamy look on her face. It’s beautiful, her shoulders are so relaxed and her eyes are wandering everywhere as if its the first time seeing the world.

If you detour to say, a small art exhibit or even a flower field, watch as her smile reaches her eyes as the stars pale in comparison to her beauty and radiance.

She has imagined getting a cat with you. Of course, not now, and especially not if you are allergic/afraid of them. But if you’re cool with it, she’s absolutely looking up the best kind of cat for you two to get and how to care for it.

Robin has a habit of asking very personal and very philosophical questions at random times. If there’s a long period of silence, she might just drop “what do you think is there for us after death?”

If you ask sillier questions like, “would you love me if I were a worm?” she would say, “why would you be a worm?”

“Of course, I would still love you. I’d make sure no birds or other predators dived at you and ate you up. Maybe I’d get you a nice terrarium. But still, why would you be a worm?”

Is always interested in your home traditions. This is especially important to her as she’s never really had a “home” ever since the Ohara incident, so enjoying you/your family’s traditions makes her feel welcome and like she belongs to a family.

Very self-indulgent but could you imagine maybe taking her to your hometown and introducing her to your family and then she begins trying to learn everything about it? Enjoying the celebrations, trying the meals, listening to the elders… she is ecstatic.

If you don’t have any family/cultural traditions (for whatever reason, no judgment here), Robin will elect to have you two make your own traditions. Sure, you two may not have the usual “family” or home most people may have, but it’s something the two of you made, and it’s special to her. She finds it irreplaceable.

Happy to do cheesy couple things if you suggest them. It’s very unlikely she’ll suggest them, but when you do, she’ll have a smile on her face and agree to it.

Often tries to flirt with you in other languages. She makes it sound so beautiful so even if you have no clue what she’s saying, you’ll melt.

She’ll probably also say something silly but make it sound romantic even though she’s saying like “I ate a wasp and then cooked a hundred hot dogs”. You don’t need to know the truth.

Probably considers making a secret language just for the two of you to communicate. She says it’s for fun to keep things private or joke without the others knowing, but it’s also for another reason. If, for some reason, you or her are ever separated and have a chance to communicate, the language could come in handy and have you send messages without them being intercepted or interpreted by others.

Likes when you two share blankets when doing things like reading, or even simply when you two are sitting. Watching the stars or listening to the others talk is more romantic when she’s with you in a blanket.

#one piece x reader #one piece #x reader #one piece hcs #reader insert #nico robin #nico robin x reader #robin x reader

58 notes · View notes

iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

Note

Hi! I have a request for a headcanon: what would it be like to give the m6 piggy back rides or asking the m6 for a piggy back ride?? Also take this cat as a token of my appreciation :) love ur work

The Arcana HCs: Piggy Back Rides

~ that cat is adorable and seems as though it is in need of some peace. I shall take to my barnyard. @notjasondeannn thank you for the lovely prompt, I hope you enjoy what I made with it! - brainrot ~

Julian

This man is a textbook older brother. You have a standing invitation to hop on the moment you feel the slightest bit tired

Please ask him for a piggy back ride

He's delighted to take care of you in whatever way you let him, and it's a fantastic opportunity to hold you close

He runs so cold anyways, having you on his back is like carrying around the world's most stunningly crafted personal heater and he will let you know how much he appreciates that

If you offer to carry him he'll be very quick to accept and a little slower to climb on. He doesn't want to knock you over

Will swoon at the fact that you carried him

However the piggy back ride started, it always ends the same way - with him taking full advantage of your physical proximity to press kisses to whatever part of you he can reach

Asra

Piggy back rides? Oh, you mean walking snuggles?

Yeah, they like the sound of that

He actually has quite a bit of practice giving you piggy back rides from when you were recovering. It was an easy way to get you from point A to point B that didn't disorient you too much

They're still quick to offer one if you look tired, but they're more likely to suggest a nap break, which is why it doesn't happen as often

Has a bad habit of trying to hold your feet when he carries you

If you offer one to them they're hopping right up, no questions asked

Falls asleep within minutes without fail

Will sleepily mumble right into your ear about all the daydreams he's having and his plans for once you two are back home

Nadia

She's not very fond of them, only because of how often her older sisters would offer her one when she was perfectly capable of walking on her own two little legs, thank you very much

She'd much rather carry you in her arms than on her back

That said, she's not opposed to the idea if you request a ride from her

She does very much like to pamper you

A little startled when she twists her ankle and you offer her a piggy back ride back to her chambers

She'll take you up on the offer, but it's a difficult position to maintain a certain level of dignity in and the backs of her knees are secretly very ticklish

She'll be open to doing that again, but only if there's nobody around to see

And you are not to mention this to any of her sisters

Muriel

A piggy back ride? From him? Okay

Do not mention the blush spreading all the way across his face, neck, and ears or he will drop you

He really enjoys giving you piggy back rides - it's a moment where he's grateful for his strength and size and he gets to enjoy cuddles from you without the awkwardness of not knowing how to respond

Do not make any sudden intimate movements ( murmuring in his ear, kissing his cheek, snuggling closer, etc) or, once again, he will get startled and drop you

He'll apologize after but will also refuse any further piggy back requests to protect his own sanity

If you ask to carry him he will say no

It doesn't matter if you're physically capable or not. He'll give you one chance a year on your birthday to pick him up and that is it

Portia

The first to suggest them

It doesn't matter how much bigger you are than she is, she is determined to pick you up and carry you however she can

If a piggy back feels too silly to you she'll go straight for a fireman's carry and sling you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There is no stopping her

Will make all kinds of teasing comments about never letting you go when she can just carry you there

Always comments on how cute your feet are and starts brainstorming the next nail polish color for your toes

Quick to request piggy back rides from you for no reason except that she wants to be close to you

And she likes feeling how strong you are next to her

Lots of silly whispers and giggling in your ear, plus multiple smooches to your cheek

Lucio

Just as likely to offer one as you are to request one

Keeps up a running commentary the whole time you're on his back about how he could carry you forever and wondering out loud if you're swooning for him yet

Will make a suggestive comment about you riding him

If your knees/feet/legs are remotely ticklish, he's not going to be able to resist

Doesn't ask outright for piggy back rides but will not-so-subtly hint at wanting one

Genuinely delighted when you offer

Will make a suggestive comment about riding you

Brags to anyone who will listen about it both while it's happening and during the twenty-four hours that follow

Kisses are an expected form of payment either way

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

220 notes · View notes

quietblueriver · 9 months

Note

Another prompt!

On the edge of consciousness

Quick thing #5.

In which Bea suffers a minor injury and Ava has some trouble dealing. All fluff. Very silly. Thanks for the prompt! :)

Ava’s exhausted by the time the van rolls back into Cat’s Cradle. She and Dora had taken six of the newly-official sisters to follow up on reports of some strange behavior in a town in rural France. Ava was hoping they’d find a whole lot of nothing and more than a little wine. What they actually found was eight wraiths and one fun new demon who had hurled himself through one of the cracks that had started appearing after Ava left, apparently a side effect of Adriel yanking Reya into this world, even though she only stayed for like 5 minutes.

It was quite an initiation for the newbies, who did really well all things considered. The whole deal is to make sure they can do this kind of shit without her, because Ava wants to be able to step away from demon-slaying every once in a while to travel the world with her curious, hot, polyglot girlfriend. She’s a teacher now, or whatever, so she didn’t just let loose with the halo when she got annoyed. Instead, she stood there and called out instructions and warnings and made sure none of the babies got maimed or worse and that they didn’t maim or worse any of the possessed. Quite a few halo interventions in the end, but they’re learning.

And the wraiths would have been enough, but of course there was the demon, a real asshole who at one point started sprouting and flinging weird spikes from his back. Ava did a lot of shield throwing and yelling and worked very hard not to intervene unless absolutely necessary. They got him down, in the end, and she finished the job. She’s physically fine but she’s mentally done—she needs sleep and Beatrice. Beatrice, mostly.

They haven’t spoken in three days, which isn’t unusual, unfortunately, but she always hates it. Occasional texts are sometimes the best they can do and she’d sent a few while Dora was driving but hadn’t heard back. Again, not unusual. Bea hates her phone even if she loves Ava (and she does, which she makes clear all the time to everyone and which Ava feels incredibly smug about, thanks) and she’s busy right now with training newbies.

Ava is looking forward to hunting her down in the yard, engaging in only a moderate amount of PDA because “I need them to be able to look me in the eye, Ava, please," and then sleeping for at least 12 hours.

Ava’s hauling her duffel from the back, the rest of the team shuffling inside, when she notices Cam, waiting nearby and fidgeting with her hands, her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Cam?”

Camila…flinches? at Ava’s voice and Ava doesn’t like that one bit. She swings the duffel over her shoulder and walks toward her, frowning.

“Hi, Ava. Welcome home.”

Her voice isn’t peak happy Cam but she’s not upset. Still. “What’s wrong?”

Camila sighs, meets Ava’s eyes. “Okay, most importantly, everyone is fine.” Ava’s heart rate spikes immediately, the halo humming to life. “There was a bit of an accident.”

Ava stares expectantly at her, heart pounding and halo charged, and Camila winces.

“Beatrice was involved.” Seeing Ava’s face, she says again, loudly, “She’s fine! She will be fine! She is in the infirmary and everything is…”

Ava’s off before Camila can finish, dropping her duffel and phasing through the first of the walls between her and the infirmary doors. She has the layout of Cat’s Cradle memorized at this point, after eight months of living here and training here and wandering the hallways when she has nightmares and manages to sneak out without waking Bea, so she has a pretty good idea of where she’s going—straight back and to the right.

She’s barely bothering to let her body fully constitute again, catches two sisters in one of the hallways by surprise and hears a “Holy Father!” before she bleeds through a storage room and turns right down another hall to find herself, finally, at the infirmary doors.

She sees Beatrice propped up in the second bed, privacy curtains mostly open, holding a well-worn copy of The Oresteia, because of course she is, a bandage where an IV line would be on the back of her hand. Her other arm is in a sling, a wrap peeking out from the neckline of the loose gray sweater she’s wearing. She’s awake. She’s sitting up. She has a book. Ava is so relieved she nearly cries.

Beatrice startles obviously when Ava phases through the last door between them, and Ava knows she must be incredibly tired or incredibly stoned or both, maybe, to react that obviously. When she turns her head to face Ava fully, Ava’s jaw clenches tight and she starts forward immediately. The left side of Bea’s face is battered, covered in scrapes and rubbed raw in spots.

Bea seems unbothered, smiling dopily and letting the book fall closed and into her lap so that she can wave excitedly, moving her whole upper body in concert with her hand. She stops the motion quickly, flinching and staring down at her torso like it had broken a promise, brow furrowed in disappointment.

Yeah, so. Stoned it is.

Bea brings her attention back to Ava and the frown disappears as she reaches out, her motion still uncoordinated but less violent. Her palm is up, fingers wiggling expectantly. It’s adorable, but Ava can’t really enjoy it right now.

“Ava! I missed you!”

Ava smiles at her, grabs the wiggling fingers gently between her own and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over for a chaste kiss. Beatrice, uninhibited and unashamed, hums into it and sighs when they break apart, eyes fluttering and body swaying in a full Disney Princess-esque swoon. The instinct to coo at her like the precious baby duck she is fights with the ongoing panic in her chest and results in what she’s sure is a super fucking weird expression but Bea doesn’t notice or care; she’s all big brown eyes and open adoration.

“Hi, baby. I missed you, too.” She smooths a hand over Beatrice’s hair, newly shorn on the sides (a development that nearly broke Ava in the very best way), the length on top messier than Bea ever lets it be when she’s conscious and outside of their bed. Bea leans into her. “What happened here?”

She frowns, her forehead wrinkling, and Ava smooths the patch of unmarred skin with the tips of her fingers as Bea says guiltily, “Sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t want to make you worried. Just a little accident this morning.”

Ava will deal with that later. She’s not trying to get into it with sweet, stoned Beatrice about when to call. (Always, is the answer, Bea. Always fucking call. There is literally nothing more important.)

Before she can ask about what happened again, though, a flustered Camila hustles through the doors. She hovers uncertainly and then offers, weakly, “She’s okay?” The inflection lets Ava know Camila is aware of what a stupid fucking thing that is to say, but she glares at her anyway, and Camila blanches.

Ava turns back to her girlfriend and asks, resting her hand over Bea’s good one, the IV bandage tacky on her palm, “What kind of accident, gorgeous?”

Beatrice blushes, flips her hand so that she can play with Ava’s fingers, and says, incredibly nonchalantly, “We were practicing an extraction and I got hit by a car.”

Ava’s whole body tenses. The halo hums lowly.

“You got hit by a car.”

Beatrice hums, distracted by Ava’s hand, and then frowns, maybe realizing exactly how fucking awful that sounds. She looks up and adds, as though it will help, “Only a little!”

Camila sighs loudly but keeps her mouth shut.

“You got hit by a car a little.”

Ava works very hard not to lose her shit. She doesn’t want to upset Bea, and the real target for her anger, whoever hit her girlfriend with a car, isn’t in the room right now. She breathes deeply. The halo pulses the littlest bit under her skin in sympathy, still humming quietly enough that only Ava can hear it.

Beatrice offers, as if it might help, “A tap, really.”

“A tap? Beatrice.”

“No big deal. See?” She frees her good hand and uses it to wave up and down her body, flinches when the motion requires her to bend slightly and she’s definitely not making the point she wants to make. Ava catches her hand and holds it still.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fine.”

The halo hums louder and Ava feels energy start to build under her skin, hot and itchy.

“She should recover quickly. She’s been hurt a lot worse.”

Ava snaps her head back to look at Camila, both eyebrows up and mouth open a little disbelievingly. Because yes, Bea is going to be fine, but this nonchalance? About getting hit by a car? Nope. Nope. Nope. How is Ava supposed to leave, like, ever if this is how her girlfriend and her best friend approach what looks like one step down from vehicular manslaughter? Fine. Jesus Christ.

“Gee, thanks, Cam. Have you been taking bedside manner lessons from Lilith?”

Camila blushes but Ava’s attention is quickly drawn back to Beatrice, who is nodding in agreement with Camila, or trying to. The drugs aren’t doing her any favors on that front, so the movement gets away from her, less decisive and more drowsy and drunken. The effect is something between a puppy trying to keep itself awake and Mother Superion on the rare occasions she stays for game night (or, once and memorably, karaoke) and indulges in one glass of wine too many. Like both a puppy and Superion, Bea begins to sway, eyes closing, and Ava puts a steadying hand on her uninjured shoulder. She gets a grateful smile when Beatrice settles back into the pillow.

As if sensing that she’s about to start again with her questions—which, despite what the two idiots in the room with her apparently think, are absolutely reasonable and pretty fucking chill relative to the information she has—Beatrice says, voice a slightly slurred and incredibly exaggerated mimic of the one she uses when training recruits or doing serious OCS things, “It could’ve been much worse. She wasn’t even going that fast.”

Camila groans and the halo thrums and Ava adjusts on the bed, gentle but unable to stay still any longer.

“It could’ve…” Ava splutters. “She wasn’t…she wasn’t even going that fast?”

Ava hates the word shrill. It’s misogynist as fuck and used to invalidate women’s feelings and police their tone. Bullshit. But she won’t deny that the pitch of her voice is rising higher and higher with each piece of information. She reaches for a metaphor Bea would appreciate. She’s a tea kettle about to go full whistle. She’s a tea kettle about to explode.

She takes a deep breath, counts, exhales. Does it again. Okay. Okay. It’s not helpful for her to blow up. She’s been too hard on Camila. She needs to know what happened and what Bea needs. That’s what matters.

Bea’s clearly working to keep her eyes open. New strategy. She takes the deepest breath yet, presses a very soft kiss to Beatrice’s uninjured knuckles, Bea humming and closing her eyes fully.

“Sleep, baby. I’m just going to talk to Cam. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” Sleepy brown eyes blink open at her and she’s nearly pouting and Ava’s got a whole lot of feelings right now, but love pushes to the top easy, easy, easy when she looks at Bea.

“Promise.”

Her voice is calm even if it is still much higher than normal as she looks to Cam and asks, “What happened?”

Camila steps closer, hesitant, and Ava consciously works to relax her shoulders. She says, standing and reaching to pull Camila into a hug, “Sorry I was a bitch. I’m,” she glances at Beatrice, whose eyes are closed again, “I had to take care of all of the baby nuns and I’m a little exhausted and it’s Bea and I just…”

Cam hugs her tighter and wipes a tear from Ava’s cheek. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. She’s fucking tired.

“I understand. It’s okay.”

Beatrice makes a soft noise, and Cam smiles at her fondly. “They gave her more medicine just before you got back. I’m honestly surprised she’s still awake.”

“Mmm.” Ava steps back a little and shakes it out, folds her shoulders back.

“It really was an accident. Beatrice was helping a novice in a drill with a moving extraction, and the driver was a little overeager, and, well, Beatrice got knocked back with some force. She dislocated her shoulder and has some nasty road rash, but, as you can see, they’ve given her medication, and she should recover relatively quickly.” Camila bites her lip for a moment. “I promise she’s okay, Ava. I would’ve called you immediately if anything serious had happened. I’ll always call, even if Beatrice won’t.”

She uncoils a bit more. She knows it’s true. There’s no way that Cam wouldn’t call her or send Lilith to come get her, if things got really bad.

A tiny, sleepy noise escapes Beatrice, and Ava blows out a breath, smiles at Camila. Beatrice is fine. Beatrice will be fine.

She eyes the sling and wonders how long she’ll need to wear it. Bea’s going to hate being on the bench. The newbies are going to hate it, too.

Underneath the totally reasonable anger, she feels almost bad for whoever it was who hit Bea. She’s pretty beloved, even if she won’t admit it, and it’s no secret that Ava can be a little, uh, overprotective. The kid’s probably having a rough time.

“I know we’re avoiding another Yasmine situation, but clearly there’s some work left to do on teaching the novices left to drive.”

Camila frowns and begins to respond, but they’re interrupted by the familiar hiss of Lilith’s arrival, the black wings folding behind her a ridiculous contrast with the bulging M&S bag in her hand, the top of a green Colin the Caterpillar box peeking out of the top. Ava bites back a smile. What a fucking softie.

She lets go of the glamour that she wears in public, her skin mottling with scales as she removes her sunglasses. She reels back slightly when she catches sight of Ava but recovers quickly, thrusting the bag out in front of her without a word. Ava takes it, catches sight of candy and biscuits and a tin of fancy tea.

“Thanks, Lil. She’ll be excited about these.”

Her eyes turn to her shoes, black boots identical to Bea’s favorites, says gruffly, “How’s she doing?”

“She’ll be fine.”

Camila smiles at her and Ava lifts a shoulder, moves to unload the bag on the table next to Bea’s bed. Beatrice, apparently still awake enough to notice Ava’s presence, reaches a hand out and rests it on Ava’s thigh, whispers something that Ava is almost totally sure is nonsense. She doesn’t try to decipher, kisses her cheek before before going back to her mission, rifling though the considerable stash Lilith brought and beginning to pull things out.

“You’re being much calmer about this than I anticipated.”

Ava snorts and looks up at Lilith, whose eyes are focused on the injured side of Beatrice’s face.

“Yeah, no. I lost my shit for a bit there. Cam took the brunt of it.” She turns her eyes to Camila. “Sorry again.”

There’s not enough room on the table for everything—Lilith really wasn’t fucking around—so Ava prioritizes Bea’s favorites.

“Like, I’m obviously not delighted and I’m definitely going to have a talk with Bea about when to call me, say, for example, when she gets hit by a car, but she’ll be okay.” She tucks what won’t fit on the table into the little drawer below and brushes some of Bea’s hair back. “Also, stoned Beatrice is super cute.”

Lilith’s shadow falls across Bea’s body, and Ava turns to see the sharp line of her jaw clenched, her eyes scanning Bea’s body and lingering on her shoulder.

“It really was an accident.”

It’s said absently, her voice soft as she leans even further forward to tuck a corner of Bea’s blanket a little tighter around her. Ava’s stomach swoops with fondness, and she reaches her own hand out to squeeze at Lilith’s bicep, black scales and warm skin a strange contrast on her palm.

“Yeah, Cam told me. It’s fine. I mean, someone’s getting a talk from me, because what the fuck, but…”

Ava halts at a hum from the bed. Beatrice is clearly just on the edge of consciousness, eyes straining open before fluttering closed again, words barely coherent. Barely coherent, but coherent enough.

“Don’t be mad, love. Lilith is usually a very good driver.”

#warrior nun #avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun fic #sister camila #wn prompt fic

140 notes · View notes

landwriter · 1 year

Note

The tiny emissary is everything to me

Her death causes minimal interruption to her goings on. It’s peaceful and in her sleep and she waves death off with a flick of her tail and continues to trot along in front of dream

When the appointment comes, and it does, for Death had been honest when she told her brother she wouldn't make another exception for him, the cat is sleeping. It is a grey afternoon in November, and the first snow of the season, arriving strange and early, has just started to fall.

She has, Death knows, through regular coffees with Hob and occasional walks with Dream, lived a long and fulsome life. There is no fairness in her function, but if there was, she thinks it would be the life that such a beloved cat deserved.

As a rule, most creatures are less afraid than humans are to walk with her to the Sunless Lands. They have not worked so much to forget her existence.

So she expects the lack of reaction, when she greets The Cat with a warm smile.

The little black ball of fur, though now streaked a bit with white too, unfurls herself from her body in this world, and stretches, yawning wide as a lion. She licks a paw and looks at Death, unsurprised.

"Hello, little one," says Death. "It's time."

She adds, because she can't help herself, and because it's true, "You brought my brother and his husband a great deal of happiness, you know."

The Cat blinks at her, and Death feels a little silly. She obviously knows, of course. Death recalls all the stories she's heard of her, and instead offers, "Have you heard of the Sunless Lands? They're a fine place to explore."

She waits for the cat's reply, which is perhaps her mistake, because cats are far less inclined to follow those who would wait for them. Or perhaps, she thinks, what happens next would have happened anyways, the reaction she did not foresee:

The little black cat flicks her tail and walks away.

Death trails behind her as she makes a circuit of her former home, hopping up onto every windowsill to admire each view one last time, visiting each of her favourite spots to nap, sniffing a bit at a bowl of kibble she is no longer quite corporeal enough to eat. When they return to the living room, to the couch where she's still curled up, Death thinks she's ready.

"Shall we?" she asks.

The cat blinks.

Then Hob comes in, elbowing through the door with arms full of groceries, already talking. "I've got you tuna, my dear, don't tell-" and then sees Death and brightly says, "Oh, hello."

Then he looks past her and sees only one cat, the one curled still on the paisley couch, not the one twining around his legs in happy greeting, and says, "Oh."

"I'm sorry," says Death. She wishes he hadn't come home to this.

"No," says Hob, although his hands are trembling a little as he sets the groceries down on the counter, "Please don't be, it's only your job. We've had a good run. Almost two decades," he says, and smiles a little wetly. "Just about, anyways. Long life for a cat."

"But it must seem awfully short to you, Hob," she says.

"Yes. It does," he says and swallows. "Is she already-?"

"We were just leaving," says Death. The Cat looks up briefly from her circles around Hob's legs, and then goes back to ignoring her.

Hob squares his shoulders a bit and smiles, truly warmly this time, and Death sees again, so clearly, how this is the man for her brother.

"Well," he says, "I know you're busy, but would you like a cuppa before you go?"

So Death finds herself sitting in her little brother's kitchen, sipping herbal tea and talking to his kind husband about all this unseasonable snow, lovely though, isn't it, this is exactly why they moved out of the city. Hob is not looking in the direction of the living room. The Cat is, in any case, actually sitting on his lap and staring very at smugly at Death.

When their tea is done, and Hob reluctantly stands to do the washing up, she leaps down to stalk toward the front door, and Death is about to try and whisper to her that they actually do, really, need to go, that it will hurt her to keep staying, the front door opens again.

Dream is not a human. He sees her there, and crouches at once to greet her, murmuring endearments in, Death thinks, Akkadian. Something about a dark queen of the night. Something about a million slain enemies and sharp silver claws.

Hob is still holding a violently floral tea towel and drying a mug when he turns around, confused, and understands at once.

"She's still-" he starts.

"Yes," says Death, at the same time Dream says, "Yes," and glares at her. She thinks as far as jurisdiction goes, this is rather hers, but then again, Dream is Hob's husband, and they're in his kitchen.

Hob looks over to the approximate spot where The Cat is receiving incorporeal but no less satisfying scratches from Dream.

"Well, goodbye, my sweet one," he says. "Thanks for trusting me. Thanks for letting me be your friend."

He looks at Dream, then, as if he expects him to say something too.

Death looks at her little brother as well, who seems not nearly as upset as she would've guessed. He unfolds himself and stands, then opens the door again.

The Cat walks out, like she was waiting to be let out this whole time, leaving no paw prints behind her in the fresh-fallen snow.

Dream crosses the room and touches Hob's face. It is so tender that Death almost looks away. "Hob, you need not to say goodbye. She is not going to the Sunless Lands. She is going with me. To the Dreaming."

"Oh," says Hob softly, and then kisses him, and Death does look away then.

Dream never even took his shoes off, she realizes.

Her little brother eventually extracts himself from his husband and nods to Death.

"Sister," he says, with a satisfied little smile.

Then he walks out after The Cat, and neither of them look back.

#dreamling #the sandman #tiny emissary of the night #asks #prompt fill #dream of the endless #death of the endless #hob gadling

419 notes · View notes