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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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Hello! Could you do a SFW one with Alastor, Vox, Velvett, or others (separately) with a blind fem reader?

Ooh! Okay! I def can! Idk if you want it romantic or not but even so, let’s just see where this actually really cool idea takes us, shall we!

Alastor

Alastor doesn’t really react much to when he discovers you’re blind. Well… that happens to people doesn’t it, though, he isn’t sure how you’re still blind, even coming into Hell. He was short-sighted as a human and now, it’s completely cured. Why are you so different?

Alastor won’t treat you like you’re helpless and unable to fend for yourself. He’ll only jump in when he thinks you genuinely need some support. He is a good boyfriend like that and he is happy to make radio effect noises to draw you back to him when you need the subtle push

Alastor is the type to accompany you everywhere, no questions asked. He’ll bring you place to place and let you feel around so you get familiar with the Hotel’s layout but most of the time, he’ll escort you where you need to go so you don’t get lost. He just wants to protect you… all the time, everytime

Alastor respects you. You have a genuine disability but yet, you never let it bother you nor does it hinder you so much, that you need a constant caretaker. You’re a lady of skill and diligence, you’ve accomplished so much. He’s proud and he likes to brag about his blind girlfriend being better than anybody else’s own normal girlfriend, even over his broadcasts

You bet your supple ass Alastor wants and tries to cure your disability. As much as he believes you’re beautiful the way you are, he’d prefer you be able to see so you don’t have to suffer all the time and he brings this up with you as much as he possibly can

Vox

Vox is kinda meh about the whole fact you’re blind. He doesn’t like it but that also doesn’t mean he’d bully you for it. He’s kinda more disguising I am worried under annoyance. He pretends to be annoyed by the fact you can’t see but in his mind, he’s worried you’ll get lost

Vox always has people escort you around, when he himself cannot, he needs you safe and he even hires security to ensure no random stranger can put their hands on you when you least suspect it. As his beloved but sadly disabled girlfriend, you’re safety is his top priority, alongside comfort when you are safe

Vox is kinda… very babying, to be honest, he babies you a lot because of your blindness. He is caring and he is doting, behind closed doors and he wants to ensure you’ll be taken care of so he babies you in all ways because of your disability. He’ll feed you, he’ll bring you to the bathroom, he’ll sleep with you

Vox always wants to hold your hand. It’s for both of you; for you to get familiar with his feeling and for him to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Vox also doesn’t mind letting you feel his TV head, whatever helps you always recognise him, he’s happy with it

Vox, like Alastor and Velvette, brags about you but he brags about you on his television show, so live on the worldwide web. He’ll brag about everything you’re gone through and even announce you, proclaim you’re the better than any girl in Hell and that you’re hotter than any other girl in Hell

Velvette

Velvette, for a critical and judgy woman, cannot bring herself to judge you for your disability. Yeah, she is the one who dislikes it the most since it means you’re stupid(Velvette mindset) but she doesn’t want to throw any garbage at the woman she really likes

Velvette likes to dress you. That way, you don’t have to worry about feeling on your clothing and she can make sure you always match her, stay up trends and be stylish. You’ll be the most beautiful lady in the Pride Ring and she’ll enjoy posting pictures of you online

Velvette actually feels really sorry for you so she offers her help regularly. She’ll offer her help for the smallest things, your echolocation isn’t working and you’re more than a bit stuck, she’ll be right there with her phone playing so you can always find her incase you two seperate but she’ll have your hand in hers

Velvette as the, backbone of the Overlord Vs, is more than willingly to get into a fight to protect you. Protect you from the minor disablist down the street to actual exterminators. She’ll never let anything put their hands on you and she’ll even fend off Vox and Valentino to leave you alone. She wants to be the only one touching you

Velvette will make sure you associate social media to herself so when you hear memes or music or a uploaded video, that means Velvette is nearby and she is very proud when she watches you approach her and cuddle onto her

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hd-junglebook · 26 days

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Falling For It

Part 6 - Word Count 3067

This was kind of fun to write, part 7 should be done by Friday...I hope.

Prev … Next

Y/N descended the winding staircase, her bare feet padding softly against the polished wooden steps. The open layout of the Lakehouse allowed the warm glow of the moon to filter through the expansive windows, bathing the living room in a pale blue hue.

As she reached the bottom step, Y/N paused, her fingers absently twirling a lock of her long, tousled hair. She surveyed the room, taking in the scene before her with a small, contented smile.

In the kitchen, Quinn and Nico stood behind the sleek white marble island, their hands moving deftly as they prepared a colorful array of drinks.

Quinn, with his messy brown hair and vibrant blue eyes, laughed heartily at something Nico said, his head thrown back in genuine amusement as he poured a generous amount of tequila into a line of shot glasses.

Nico, tall and lean with a cleaner more sophisticated mop of his own hair, chuckled as he sliced limes with practiced precision, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Dude, if we keep this up, we'll be carrying people to bed tonight," Nico remarked, raising an eyebrow at Quinn's heavy-handed pouring.

Quinn simply shrugged, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, it's not a real party until someone's not getting carried to bed." Y

/N chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head at their antics. Her gaze drifted to the living room, where Heather and Ang were sprawled out on the plush rug, their legs tucked beneath the dark wooden coffee table.

Heather bit her lip in concentration as she shuffled a stack of colorful cards while Ang leaned forward eagerly, her dark eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Ooh, I see some juicy dares in here," Ang sing-songed, waggling her perfectly arched eyebrows. "Tonight's gonna be wild."

Heather snorted, tossing a card back into the pile. "Please, you just want an excuse to make out with Jesper."

The soft, sultry beats of an R&B track drifted through the air, undoubtedly one of Luke's carefully curated playlists. Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips, the familiarity of the music and the easy camaraderie of her friends settling over her like a warm, comforting blanket.

She stepped fully into the room now, easily sliding behind ang and heather to sit on the plush cushions of the couch. Just as she began to get comfortable Quinn and Nico made their grand entrance, their voices echoing through the room as they carried the trays of drinks.

Quinn carefully set the tray down on the coffee table, the glasses clinking together melodically. Nico followed suit, his lean frame moving with an easy grace as he placed his own tray beside Quinn's. He straightened up, running a hand through his hair, and surveyed the room with a questioning gaze.

Quinn placed his hands on his hips, his brows furrowed in confusion as he took in the small gathering.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "I thought this was supposed to be a party."

Ang chuckled, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth as she leaned back on her hands. "Oh, I have a feeling the real fun is just about to begin," she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. "These truth or dare cards are no joke."

As if on cue, the sound of laughter and footsteps echoed from the hallway, signaling the arrival of the rest of their friends. Y/N felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach, knowing that the night was about to take an interesting turn.

Y/N reached for her glass, the cool condensation kissing her fingertips as she brought it to her lips. She took a sip, the sweet tang of the drink dancing on her tongue, and settled back into the couch.

Quinn's face split into a wide grin as he rubbed his hands together like a cartoonish villain. "Perfect timing," he declared, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Let the games begin." He rubbed his hands together with such enthusiasm that Nico had to duck to avoid getting smacked in the face. "Dude, watch the merchandise," Nico grumbled, smoothing his hair back into place.

Quinn opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his lips as his jaw suddenly went slack. His eyes widened comically, and he froze, his hands still held up in mid-rub.

Y/N, Heather, and Ang exchanged confused glances before following his stunned gaze to the doorway. There, trailing just behind Luke's tall frame, was a familiar head of sleek blonde hair.

"Lexi?" Heather whispered, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. Quinn remained statue-still, his expression a mix of shock and something akin to terror. Y/N bit back a laugh, knowing exactly why Quinn was so thrown off balance.

Ang leaned over to Y/N, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Ten bucks says Quinn's trying to remember if he ever accidentally liked one of her thirst traps on Insta."

Y/N snorted, nearly choking on her drink. She couldn't help but feel a little bad for Quinn, but the sight of him standing there, frozen like a deer in headlights, was too hilarious not to enjoy.

Luke, oblivious to the tension, greeted the room with a broad smile. "Look who I ran into on the way out of the bar, we almost left her there!" He draped an arm casually over Lexi's shoulders, missing the way Quinn flinched at the action.

Lexi's cool blue eyes scanned the room, landing on Quinn with a predatory gleam. "Quinn," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

As Lexi sauntered into the room, Quinn shot a panicked look at his friends, silently pleading for backup. Y/N, taking pity on him, stood up and clapped her hands together.

“Okay losers, we ready to play?”

…

The room erupted into cheers and whoops, effectively breaking the awkward tension. Quinn shot Y/N a grateful look, mouthing "thank you" as he quickly busied himself with distributing drinks. Y/N grinned, shaking her head in amusement.

As everyone began to settle into their seats, ready to start the game, the room suddenly fell silent. Y/N glanced up, curious about the sudden hush, and felt her jaw drop.

There, standing in the doorway, was Jack. And he looked absolutely delicious.

He was wearing a fitted black button up that clung to his toned chest and arms in all the right places, just the few top buttons left undone along with dark wash jeans that hugged his muscular legs. His light hair was artfully tousled, as if he'd just run his fingers through it, and his blue eyes sparkled.

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth going dry as she openly stared at him. She knew she was probably drooling, but she couldn't help it. Jack was a vision, and she wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, she wasn't the only one affected by Jack's entrance. Across the room, Lexi's blue eyes were raking over Jack's form, a predatory gleam in her gaze. She licked her lips, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

Jack, seemingly oblivious to the attention he was garnering, scanned the room for a place to sit. His eyes landed on the empty spot beside Y/N, and he began to move towards her, a warm smile on his face. She threw her legs back onto the plush carpet, expectantly waiting for him to sit.

With a speed that seemed almost inhuman, Lexi leapt up from her seat and practically pounced on Jack. She grabbed his arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into his bicep as she yanked him towards her.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, her voice sickly sweet. "Come sit with me!"

Before Jack could protest, Lexi had dragged him over to her spot, pushing him down onto the couch beside her. She immediately curled into his side, her hand resting possessively on his thigh.

Y/N felt a surge of jealousy course through her, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. She glared daggers at Lexi, silently fuming at the blonde's audacity.

Jack, for his part, looked mildly uncomfortable with Lexi's aggressive display of affection. He shot Y/N an apologetic look, his green eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

Y/N forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to quell the anger and disappointment swirling inside her. She plastered a smile on her face, determined not to let Lexi see how much her actions had affected her.

"Alright, let's get this game started!" Quinn declared, his voice overly bright.

Heather reached for the stack of truth cards, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. She plucked a card from the top and read it aloud, her voice wavering with nerves. "What's the most inappropriate place you've ever had a makeout session?" she read, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

The group erupted into a chorus of "ooh"s and whistles, everyone leaning in closer to hear Heather's answer. She bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room before finally settling on her lap.

"Um, well..." she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was at my grandparents' 50th anniversary party. In the coat closet."

The room exploded with laughter and gasps of shock. Ang clapped her hands together, her eyes wide with glee.

"Heather, you little minx!" she exclaimed, reaching over to give her friend a high five. Heather ducked her head, a small smile playing at her lips despite her embarrassment.

"Okay, okay, let's move on," she said, pointing to Quinn, signaling his turn. He quickly grabbed a dare card from the pile.

His eyes widened as he read the card, and he looked up at the group with an embarrassed grin. "Let the group choose someone to spank you five times.” He sighed out, annunciating the words. "Dawson, get over here” he stated.

Dawsons eyes widened, but he couldn't hide the small smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Alright, Quinn," he said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. "Bend over."

Quinn looked like he was about to pass out, but he slowly stood up and turned around, bracing himself against the back of the couch. Dawson stepped forward, his hand raised, and brought it down on Quinn's backside with a resounding smack.

He yelped, his face burning with humiliation as Dawson continued to spank him, each strike eliciting a new round of laughter from the group. By the time it was over Quinn was red-faced and panting. As he sat back down, wincing slightly, Lexi reached for the next dare card. She read it silently, her lips curving into a wicked smile, before looking up at the group.

"Kiss the person you find most attractive in the room on the lips," she read, her eyes immediately locking onto y/n’s before turning to Jack next to her. Y/N felt her stomach drop, a wave of jealousy and anger washing over her as she watched Lexi lean over to Jack.

Without hesitation, Lexi straddled his lap, her hands cupping his face as she leaned in and captured his lips in a deep, sensual kiss. Jack's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't push her away. Instead, he seemed to melt into the kiss, his hands coming up to rest on Lexi's hips as she continued to ravish his mouth.

Y/N could feel the heat of rage burning in her cheeks, her heart continued to hammer against her chest uncomfortably. She wanted nothing more than to march over there and rip Lexi off of Jack, to yell in jacks face on the man she'd just been kissing upstairs, of the man that’s taken her on dates every week since they fatefully crossed paths again.

But she forced herself to stay seated, her jaw clenched so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. She watched as Lexi finally pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she climbed off of Jack's lap and returned to her seat.

Jack looked dazed, his lips slightly swollen and his hair mussed from Lexi's fingers. Ang turned to Y/N, her eyes wide with shock and concern.

She could see the hurt and anger burning in her friend's eyes, and she reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. Y/N forced a small smile, silently thanking Ang for her support, before turning her attention back to the game.

As the night wore on, the drinks continued to flow, and the dares became increasingly more outrageous. Y/N found herself grateful for the distraction, throwing herself into the game with a newfound determination. She laughed and joked with Nico and Dawson, purposefully avoiding any interaction with Jack or Lexi.

Hours later, the room was filled with the sound of drunken laughter and slurred speech. Y/N, who had been pacing herself throughout the night, seemed to be the only one still relatively sober. She watched as her friends stumbled and swayed, their inhibitions lowered and their judgment clouded by the alcohol.

Feeling the need for a moment of solitude, Y/N slipped away from the group and made her way into the kitchen. She hopped up onto the counter, her legs dangling as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirling emotions inside her.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear Jack enter the room until he was standing right in front of her. Y/N's eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat as she took in his disheveled appearance.

His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled and untucked, and his eyes were glazed with a mix of intoxication and something else Y/N couldn't quite place.

"Y/N..." he began, his words slightly slurred. "I... I need to talk to you."

Y/N felt her chest tighten, a mix of anger and longing warring within her. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, a voice called her name from the other room.

"Y/N! Come on, we're playing another round!" Quinn shouted, his words followed by a chorus of drunken cheers.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, torn between her desire to hear what Jack had to say and her need to escape the uncomfortable situation. In the end, her pride won out, and she slid off the counter, brushing past Jack without a word.

She stalked over to the table where Quinn had set up a new round of drinks, without hesitation, she grabbed a glass and downed its contents in one gulp, relishing the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

She reached for another, and then another, her mind growing fuzzy as the drinks began to take effect. She could feel Jack's eyes on her from across the room, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the laughter and chatter of her friends.

the night blurred into a haze of drunken revelry, Y/N found herself letting go of her inhibitions, her anger and hurt temporarily forgotten in the chaos of the moment. She danced and sang, her laughter mixing with the others as they lost themselves in the heady rush of alcohol and adrenaline.

But even as she let herself get swept up in the madness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something had shifted between her and Jack, that the events of the night had set into motion a chain reaction that she was powerless to stop.

…

Y/N stumbled out of the house, the cool night air hitting her flushed skin like a refreshing balm. She inhaled deeply, the scent of pine and lake water filling her lungs as she made her way towards the shore.

The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silvery light casting an ethereal glow over the rippling water. Y/N kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed as she waded into the shallows.

The water was cool against her skin, sending a shiver up her spine as she moved deeper, until she was waist-deep in the inky depths.

It was only then, with the muffled sounds of the party fading behind her and the vast expanse of the lake stretching out before her, that Y/N allowed herself to break.

The tears she had been holding back all night spilled down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she tilted her head back to the sky.

"Why did you do this?" she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Am I not good enough for any man?"

The moon stared back at her, silent and unblinking, offering no answers to her desperate pleas. Y/N felt a surge of anger rise within her, her hands clenching into fists beneath the water's surface.

She thought back to all the moments she and Jack had shared, the laughter and the dates, the stolen touches. Had it all been a lie? A cruel game he had been playing, stringing her along while he pined after her best friend?

"If he wanted her, he should have just told me," she choked out, her vision blurring with fresh tears. "Instead of making me think that maybe, just maybe, he could feel something for me too."

She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall freely as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered heart. She had been so sure that Jack was different, that he saw her for who she truly was.

But now, with the image of him kissing Lexi burned into her mind, she couldn't help but question everything. "Was it all a lie?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves.

The thought was too painful to bear, and Y/N felt her knees buckle beneath her. She sank into the water, letting it engulf her as she cried, her tears mingling with the cool, dark depths. She didn't know how long she stayed there, her body racked with sobs as she poured out her pain to the uncaring moon.

But eventually, her tears ran dry, and she was left feeling hollow and numb, the anger and hurt giving way to a dull, aching emptiness.

Slowly, she rose from the water, her clothes clinging to her body as she made her way back to the shore. She knew she couldn't stay out here forever, that eventually she would have to face Jack and the rest of her friends.

…

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incorrectbatfam · 1 year

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Can Bruce read his gremlins a bedtime story?

Once upon a time—

Ugh, no. Go back and try again.

Jason, let the man read.

Not when it sounds like that. It's Sleeping Beauty. A fucking five-year-old can do it.

Alright, starting over. Once upon a time, there lived a princess in a castle.

Where else would she live?

I get what you're saying. Where was I? Right. When she was born—

Can we go back for a second? What kind of castle are we talking about?

Not again.

A good story has detail, Cass. Now give me the layout. Is it more mid-century or a little earlier? What fortifications do they have? Do the floor plans allow for guards to covertly sneak around? Are they prioritizing enemy intimidation or civilian—

Mid-to-late-century, reinforced walls with hidden cannons and watchtowers, they have underground tunnels, and civilian trust because their only enemy is Maleficent. As I was saying—

What's their contingency plan?

Tim!

The story is the contingency plan, you wet sack of hamburger meat.

Wow, spoiler alert.

Someone called?

I thought you went home?

And miss this trainwreck? As if. Too bad Tumblr doesn't have more colors because Duke would love this.

Huh?

It's a fourth wall thing. Don't worry, I've been working on my impression of him.

Let's see it.

Please don't.

"My name is Duke. I cry at Lord of the Rings."

In his defense, Frodo and Sam have a beautiful friendship.

Back to the story. When she was born, her parents threw a grand jubilee where all the kingdom and its fairies was invited. The fairies all arrived with presents—

You think they would have a baby shower before the baby is born, right? What, the first few days they're just going without diapers?

This was the Middle Ages. They believed in leeching the humors out for a common cold.

Also, you can throw showers after the kid arrives. Our own dad did it.

At least you weren't the guinea pig. Try explaining to a bunch of important rich people who brought gifts that actually, there is no baby, it's me and I don't need diapers or footie pajamas.

Says the guy wearing a Kid Flash onesie.

Says the one in a Superboy shirt and conspiracy theory pants. Pick a side.

I have two hands and I'm not ashamed.

Okay, there's a lot to unpack there—

Jason married Roy!

What?!?

It's for tax benefits. Not all of us can own a multi-billion-dollar corporation.

Your name's on the will.

Yeah but I'm never gonna get it 'cause Bruce isn't gonna die long enough for me to use it.

What do you mean?

He's talking about the retcons. You should ask Duke, he can see into other dimensions.

Ooh.

Ahem, I believe Father was telling us a story. I speed-read it so I know they all die at the end, but I'd like to hear your delivery.

Damian, you're reading this morning's obituaries.

Same thing.

Truelove'skissbrokethespellandtheylivedhappilyeveraftertheend. Terrible job everyone, now lights out.

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moremaybank · 1 year

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — k.m

pairing klaus mikaelson x fem!reader

summary klaus pleads with you as he tries to win you back (based on the song “how you get the girl” by taylor swift)

warnings a little angst, fluff, klaus's fear of reader dying (no actual character death, though)

author's note i'm genuinely so happy with how this turned out. i put the chorus last because it worked better, i hope that’s okay. and i know this was supposed to be mainly fluff, but inspiration struck, all right? don't hate me. also, changed my layout a little.

klaus masterlist ;; valentine's day ‘23 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪

stand there like a ghost

shaking from the rain, rain

she’ll open up the door and say, “are you insane?”

say it’s been a long six months

and you were too afraid to tell her what you want, want

and that’s how it works

that’s how you get the girl

and then, you say

klaus stood at your doorstep, a bouquet in hand, as he debated back and forth between making his presence known and ringing the doorbell or running like hell in the opposite direction. to say he was torn would be the most incredible understatement of all time.

one the one hand, he wanted to see you. god, did he want to see you. he wished for nothing more than to drink in the glimmer of your bright eyes, the curve of your lips when you smiled, the glow that overtook your complexion.

but on the other hand, he was scared. each person who had chosen to love him became collateral damage in the hands of his lifelong line of enemies, and he couldn’t bear for that to be your fate. he couldn’t be selfish with you because you made his life feel worth it just by existing.

so he walked away.

those same enemies he’d feared would take you away from him permanently and forever had now been conquered, but he still struggled to sleep at night. he’d toss and turn, and if he were lucky enough to drift off into slumber, you’d overtake his dreams too.

he’d hear the harmonious crinkle of your laugh, feel the ghost of your lips on his, and his mind would subconsciously replay the memories of the nights you’d spent dancing together, with him twirling you around the room as you giggled. you would tell him that you loved him beyond what you ever thought was possible, and he would say the same to you in return.

everything was perfect. until it wasn’t.

one night he’d sat you down, barely being able to look you in the eye while he told you that your relationship couldn’t go on, that it wouldn’t last. you’d fought like hell to make him believe in how strong your bond was, that nothing could tear you apart, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. and so, he ended it. he’d never seen anyone run off so fast, supernaturally or not. as you did, he could feel your heart shatter in his hands, which hurt him the most. he’d always promised to protect your heart and cherish it, and now it seemed as if it was a mere lie he’d told you to get you to trust him.

but that was then, and this is now. the same concerns did not carry the same weight on his shoulders as they did before. klaus needed you. as the original hybrid, he was almost fearless. but with you, it was different. he was different. your love made him brave. it pushed him to see the light he carried deep within himself, and he desperately needed that. he needed you. someone that believed in him more than anyone else had ever even tried to. and that was enough to push him to ring the bell.

the door creaked open, and your eyes went wide when they landed on him. “klaus, w—what are you doing here?”

“i love you, y/n. and i’m not leaving until you’re mine again.”

remind her how it used to be, be, yeah-yeah

with pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks, cheeks

tell her how you must have lost your mind, ooh-ooh

when you left her all alone

and never told her why, why

and that’s how it works

that’s how you lost the girl

and now, you say

“go home, klaus. i’m not doing this with you,” you spoke, moving to close the door.

klaus stopped you, however, sticking his foot between the doorframe and keeping it nudged open. “please. please hear me out.”

you looked into his eyes, the familiar hues of cerulean bringing warmth into your chest — an unwelcome warmth if you were truthful. at that moment, he’d never looked so honest. even now, after all these months, you could still read him so well and decipher where he was telling the truth.

“you can’t come inside.”

“that’s fine. i don’t need to. i’m going to fix this, even if i have to stand out here in the cold all night and talk your ears off,” he chuckled, trying to make you smile.

you didn’t, though, and his grin quickly began to fade. he cleared his throat in the awkward silence, “y/n, i’ve lived longer than anyone on this earth — barring elijah — and i know this to be true; i was an idiot to walk away from what we had. i did it out of fear, fear that i wouldn’t be able to protect you. fear that you’d die in my arms and i would have no way of helping you. if you had left me, i wouldn’t have been able to survive it. so i forced myself to walk away. but that only made things worse.”

klaus watched as the anger and hurt on your face began to waver, and he hoped you believed in everything he was saying.

“i want you back. i want our life back. i want to dance with you in the living room to that willie nelson song you love. i want you to toss flour at me while you’re baking the most magnificent beignets i have ever tasted. i want to feel your beat next to mine every night and feel the ache in my chest when we’re forced to spend the night apart,” he spoke, carefully inching closer to you. “i want to marry you, give you a family, hell, give you the world. i just want you.”

and you know

oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

that i don’t want you to go, oh, oh

remind me how it used to be

pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks

and say you want me, yeah-yeah

and then you say

you ran a hand through your hair, closing your eyes shut as you tried to process everything klaus had just said to you.

“y/n?”

“just— give me a second to take this all in, klaus. you can’t just come back here after six months and expect me to waltz back into your arms. i loved you, klaus. i still do, and that means something to me. but you hurt me. how am i supposed to trust that you aren’t going to run off and leave me in the dust every time you’re afraid?”

klaus reached out, trying to place his hand on your arm in comfort, but you moved out of his reach before he could.

“y/n, please. i’m not afraid anymore. no one on this earth will fight to protect you the way i will. i’m smart enough to see that now. these past few months without you have been absolute hell, and for me, that’s saying something.”

he reached forward once more, this time successfully gracing your arm with the familiar heat of his palm. “if you’ve shut the door on us forever, i understand, and i’ll respect your decision. but you should know that i’m not going anywhere this time. i promise you.”

you huffed a sigh, breaking your locked gaze as you thought about it. you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment on repeat during the handful of months you’d been without him. all you wished for, in and out every single day, was for klaus to show up and tell you that he was wrong. to say to you that he was sorry and that he’d never let you go again. he’d take your face in his palms, thumb swiping over your cheekbone as he always did, pull you close and kiss you. a kiss so magical that it would take all of the pain and agony away. and when you’d pull away, he’d mumble how much he loved you against your lips, and you’d grin wider than ever before.

all of your shared memories sprang into your mind, of kisses on cheeks, nights spent in each other’s arms, days of exploring the city hand in hand. you remembered how great the love you shared was and thought of how great it could be again.

and that’s all you hoped for.

i want you for worse or for better

i would wait forever and ever

broke your heart, i’ll put it back together

i would wait forever and ever

and that’s how it works

that’s how you get the girl, girl, (oh-oh, oh)

and that’s how it works

that’s how you get the girl, girl

“i know i hurt you. i broke us, and i’m willing to put us back together if you’d let me. i am going to be on this earth until it disintegrates into ash, and even then, i will never stop fighting for the chance to win you back. nothing could ever make me walk away from you again.”

your eyes met once more as his statement pulled you out of your thoughts. you looked at him, your heart cracking wide open at his sincerity.

“stop fighting, klaus.”

“didn’t you hear what i said? i’m not going to, not even if you beg me.”

“no. i’m saying…you don’t have to fight for a chance anymore,” you spoke, moving to stand right in front of him. “you’ve got me.”

his lips curled up, his dimple showing as he surged forward, cradling your face as he always had, stroking your cheeks with his calloused thumbs as he always had, and let the magic bleed through his healing kiss.

your hands circled his wrists, and you smiled against his lips, finally feeling as if your heart and mind were at peace again. everything had fallen back into place, and the world finally made sense to you.

he pulled away reluctantly, leaning his forehead against yours. “i’m going to marry the bloody hell out of you,” he breathed.

“slow your roll there, mister. we only just got back together,” you laughed softly. hearing your laugh was music to klaus’s ears because he’d been waiting for it for so long.

“we’ve spent enough time without each other. i’m done waiting. let’s get married.”

you pecked his lips once more, watching a crimson dance along his cheeks. “let’s get married,” you repeated, agreeing with him.

he grinned, swooping you up into his arms bridal style as he spun you around. you squealed with a giggle, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck as you held on tight.

and that’s how it happened. that’s how klaus got the girl.

klaus tag list (join here!): @princess-charming-01 @maybankslover @kittyqrt @darkmoonbloodshake @techlipse @the-kaya-aa @catmikaelson20 @hopesdadswife @amournoir @iluvniklaus @diyabhanushali1 @your_best_hoe @ijustlovetoread @lyn07 @elenavampire21 @theesexystallion @dudenhaaa27 @alexxavicry @kenzi-woycehoski @elijahssuit @shawnspoems @skydisneylover @adoreyouusugar @luzberg @thelastgreatamericandynasty1989 @conniesanchor @milly-louise @angel037

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wasyago · 5 months

Note

ooooh icon change!! icon change!! and ooh added image to pin. red yago!!

yessir!!!!! new layout!!!!!! its winter time >:]

(and i know its still november but cmon no one cares about these last couple days, its basically winter already)

i dont have any art for the new sona design unfortunately, but here's the close up of the picture in the pinned because i like how it turned out! very cutes

#yagotalk

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espressomads · 4 days

Text

ᡴꪫㅤׂ SNOWBALL FIGHT — M.F

𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑹 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝒀 𓈒 madi filipowicz x poc!fem!reader ꣑୧

𝜗ϱ if you don't wanna buy me presents drink me like

a warm glass of milk .

𝒇𝒂nfiction 𝒔𝒖mmary ; you were waiting at the cable car station until madi comes along and you both have a snowball fight !

𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓ating & 𝒘arnings ; fluff, madi & reader are in a relationship, a bit suggestive, y/n is used like one time

⛸️﹒𝒂uthor's 𝒋ournal ; trying this new layout SOO, i love this fanfiction & it's inspired by until dawn ఌ︎ ﹒˃̵ᴗ˂̵

reader

— CABLE CAR STATION: you were at the cable car station sitting at the bench right next to a wooden trash can and you turned ur head to look at your phone that was blowing up with notifications. you were about to pick it up but a snowball hit the wall ”oh you did not just do that.” you smiled a bit whenever you saw madi approaching you.

”put your hands where i can see them we've got you surrounded” she started to grab a handful of snow making it into a snowball ”but who am i to retaliate what choice do i a supple young rebel girl have but to surrender to the strapping military guard come to take me into custody!” your uggs boots dragged on the floor covered in snow and you approached the wood counter & grabbed a snowball.

”well i don't know when u put it like that— hey!” madi saw u running and tried catching up to you but you threw a snowball before she could. you hid behind a wooden table, making a snowball out of the snow on the ground and you saw madi get out of the cover from behind the tree, throwing the snowball directly at her.

”oh ow! — hey!” madi put a fake expression while you giggled and madi tried throwing the snowball to you as u ran to a tree stump. you quickly dodged it and slid behind the stump hiding. you kept on laughing as you were creating a snowball ”hellooo come on” you said and before you saw madi try to run to another tree and threw the snow at her before she could run to cover, you yelled out a ”hey madiii — ooh! boom shakalaka”

”you can't hide from me madi i know allll your tricks” you grabbed more snow as you stood up you saw madi stand up and that's when you threw the snow at her again she tried dodging but failed poorly.

”no more” you giggled as the both of you ran away trying to get cover ”your going down” madi muttered as you just stood there trying to get some cover but madi came behind you and grabbed your shoulders, pushing you down on the snow. ”done! done city” madi said while she was on top of you.

”so did i go downn?” you giggled and smiled up at her while she mumbled something loud enough for you to hear ”uh i don't think so” — "i think you'd know if i did” you poked her arm and tilted your head. ”my my so are we calling it my favor then?” — ”your worthy opponent miss y/n the snowball queen” — ”okay thst sounds vaguely dirty.” — ”my lady,”

madi leaned down and gave you a sweet but long kiss, moving some hair out of your face so she could see you better. ”wow save some for later buddy” you tucked your hair behind your ear before curving your mouth into a smile. ”endless reserves” - ”it's so nice out here, pretty breathh takingg” madi watched how ur lips moved perfectly with every word you said.

”i mean i could stay out here for pretty much ever, provided i was making out with you the whole time” she held your hand and helped you stand up, moving some snow out of your outfit and hair. ”just making out?” - ”quote unquote” - ”well i think we might freeze to death somewhere in between those quotes.” you said following madi to the bench where she already sat down.

”ill take the risk” - ”oh my god” you laughed softly and put your head on her shoulder while looking at the whole setting of the station with the snow falling down the sky.

A/N: i love madi sm bro, also request for anything!! im open to anyone and anything u guys r up to :))

TAGLIST: @chrissfawn @mattyb4dominicans @eyeliketoeatpoosay @jnkvivi (im adding more, chat)

#madi filipowicz #sturniolo triplets #madi filipowicz x fem reader #madi filipowicz x reader #write more about madi filipowicz please.#madi filipowicz x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader

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acorncake · 6 months

Note

Странный вопрос, но кто-то съел желудь, чтобы скрыть его от Хэнка? Извините, если что-то не понятно, я пользуюсь переводом 😖

"Strange question, but did someone eat the acorn to hide it from H4nk?"

"Sorry if something is not clear, I use translation 😖"

Ooh I like this one and it's something I don't do often but I do like protection noms

I'm not good at comics and the layout so ack

#also i havent been nommed by bull yet so this is a first!!#mawedness combat #mawdness combat #soft vore #safe vore #v/ore #v.ore #extreme cuddling #g/t vore #bull #h4nk #acorn answers

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asimplearchivist · 10 months

Text

𝑪𝑯. 𝑰𝑰 — 𝑭𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮.

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary 🕷️ ⤏ miguel struggles to come to terms with your brief encounter. pairing 🕷️ miguel o’hara/spider!reader word count 🕷️ 3.5k a/n 🕷️ ⤏ I don’t know that the collective’s HQ is actually an old Alchemax facility, but it made sense to me since the go-home machine is similar to the collider. I haven’t been able to find much information on the wiki about 2099’s world, much less spiderverse miguel’s version, so I’m gonna sprinkle in my own headcanons as we go along until I learn anything different. if any of you happen to know any details (like currency, layout of Nueva York, little things like that) please let me know! I’d prefer this fic not to have glaring discrepancies to the source material if at all possible. :) 🕷️ MASTERPOST 🕷️ 🕷️ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ 🕷️ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER 🕷️

“I told you that you weren’t up for that. I could’ve handled it just fine.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He could feel Jessica’s eyes trained firmly on his back, though he did his damnedest to ignore the persistent prickling along the back of his neck. O’Hirn was struggling again, given most of the toxin had already worn off, and it was all the restraint Miguel could muster not to just toss him over the boardwalk into the yawning depths of HQ and be done with it.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“I’ve got it,” Miguel responded brusquely, clenching his jaw.

“Just because I’m pregnant,” she started, “doesn’t mean I can’t—”

“I don’t need you getting yourself hurt,” he interrupted.

“I’m only two months in,” she sighed. “I hate to think about what you’ll be like later on. Even my husband isn’t as worried as you are, Miguel.”

“You’re exposed to enough danger as it is,” he growled. “I had it covered.”

“If you nearly drowning is your definition of ‘had it covered’, then I worry about what it means for you not to have it covered.”

Finally, they made it to the containment center, and Miguel dropped the mercenary face-first into the cage, muttering under his breath all the while. The field turned on with a hum, and Miguel released a terse exhale of relief as he stepped back for it all to be finally over.

“Hiya, boss! How’d it go?”

Almost over, anyway.

“Fine.” He turned and started to walk towards his office. “Jess, remember to fill out a report. LYLA, catalog Alexander O’Hirn into the queue for departure.”

Her lax footsteps were declaration enough of her intention to do anything but that.

“You could have at least explained the basics, you know. Since she’s from an adjacent 2099, she’d understand the multiverse theory. The Alchemax in that reality is performing similar experimentations for dimensional travel, and she’d evidently run into their projects before.”

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ do you not understand?”

“The part where it excuses you for being an ass.”

He stopped and turned on his heel, lenses narrowing as he glared resolutely down at his companion. “It’s classified to anyone not enrolled in the collective.”

“Ooh, touchy,” LYLA commented, appearing over Jessica’s shoulder like the demonic conductor she was. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Miguel ground out.

“Something happened. Your vitals are all over the place, boss.”

“I told you not to monitor me.”

“Does it have to do with the fact that she’s—”

“Don’t,” Miguel bit out.

LYLA raised her palms placatingly, twisting and regarding him wryly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“She’s not the same,” Jessica reminded him needlessly.

“Of course she isn’t,” he growled. “Why do you think—”

She raised a manicured brow at him, effectively shutting him up. He opted to glower instead. “And because she isn’t the same, you owed her a civil response—especially since the big lug back there almost popped her head off like a cork. She obviously knows your counterpart because she recognized you. I know you’re going through a lot right now, but it didn’t give you a reason to dismiss her like that. It’s not her fault that any of this is happening, and we always need new recruits.”

Miguel bristled. “I’m not recruiting her.”

“And why not?” Jessica propped her fists on her wide hips.

His lenses narrowed further. “You know why.”

“Yeah, I do.” She shook her head. “Because you’re letting your personal bias interfere with the job.”

Miguel scoffed and turned away from her once more. “All this is on a need-to-know basis, Jess. We’re not so sore in need of help that I have to pull every conceivable Spider-Person in the multiverse into the coalition.”

“Don’t you think she needs to know why her dead husband randomly walked out of a portal and acted like she didn’t exist?” LYLA remarked.

Jessica fell silent, obviously in shock, and Miguel dropped his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. “LYLA.”

“I ran preliminaries while you were gone,” she continued lightly. Miguel twisted just enough to watch her use multiple holograms to display your credentials and history as she listed off your name and date of birth. “...Spider-Woman of 928C for five years. Widowed by one Miguel O’Hara of eight years in a classified, freak accident at his laboratory in Alchemax. Refused answers regarding the nature of his death, she snuck in to investigate herself. She was then bitten by a genetically and radioactively modified Goldenrod Crab spider he had assisted in mutating, which imbued her with the classic spider powers, plus…” She squinted at the words streaming across the screen. “...boosted olfactory senses, organic webbing excreting a sedative pheromone, and pigment-shifting abilities that are largely ineffective as camouflage but make for easy changes in hair color and skin tone—oh, look, she gives herself temporary tattoos with it! Neat! She then proceeded to steal the experimental suit of UMF in the same lab and has since been doing her best to stop Alchemax’s schemes and protect Nueva York’s civilians. Heh, the suit colors kind of make her look like a strawberry pie.” She glanced up at Miguel appraisingly. “Did I miss anything?”

“No,” he said tightly. “That about covers it.”

“You said you didn’t know much about the canon events of that universe,” Jessica scolded.

“I knew the basics,” he snapped, “which is why I wanted to avoid confronting her. I wasn’t going out of my way to learn the rest!” He cut a glare towards LYLA, who shrank back slightly. “But thank you for the input.”

“Just trying to help,” she replied lamely.

“Don’t bark at her,” Jess interrupted. “You could have briefed me on it. I could’ve gone by myself if you didn’t want to risk exposure.” She tilted her head slightly. “And if you didn’t want to face her.”

The UMF dissipated from his head so quickly that both woman and AI jumped. The midday sunlight pouring in through the windows on the far wall stung his eyes, but he didn’t care. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Jess regarded him coolly for a long moment, and Miguel spun to march himself into the blissfully quiet and empty haven of his own lab.

“You owe her an apology,” the woman called.

Gritting his teeth, he stopped long enough to throw his reply over his shoulder. “And why is that?”

“If you’re in this bad of a state seeing her now,” Jess said, “how do you think she feels having grieved you for five years?”

Miguel’s talons pierced into the meat of his palms as he stayed silent and stalked away.

The lab was blissfully quiet, save the hum and chirrup of the numerous machines and monitors working away in solitude. It was raining outside, drumming against the roof and narrow windows near the ceiling to allow in faint shafts of bleak, tepid gray light. The occasional muffled rumble of thunder made him wince, even as the dark room allowed his eyes to finally relax. Still, it would take a while for his head to stop throbbing.

He had been too harsh on Jessica—LYLA, too—he knew that. He didn’t have an excuse. But the migraine he’d woken up with that morning combined with the fact that any Rhino, no matter what universe they originated from, were royal pains in the ass. Almost drowning and scarcely avoiding impalement had not done anything to improve his mood, either.

Miguel let out a harsh sigh as he sank heavily onto the platform resting at floor level, propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. His fingertips dug into his eyes and temples in a feeble attempt to assuage the aching pressure but to no avail. He needed to sleep, seeing as he’d gleaned none the night before after having determined a mission to the dimension directly neighboring his was necessary ASAP—the anomaly might not have fully transitioned until a couple of hours ago, but LYLA’s predictions had been correct and he knew they’d needed to act fast.

Even still, it had almost been too late.

He was always too late.

He gritted his teeth with a growl, shaking his head and straightening to glare up into the shadowy rafters. The patches of amber holograms flickered like candlelight, dancing with images and footage and readouts he couldn’t be bothered to check at the moment—his vision was blurring and if he tried to squint any more today he worried his eyes might pop out of his skull altogether.

“No new anomalies, jefe.”

“LYLA.” He dropped his gaze to the glowing figure floating at eye level. She had her arms folded over her chest, glasses pushed all the way up her nose to hide her eyes.

She rubbed her nose briefly. “Yeah, that’s the designation. Don’t wear it out.” She summoned a graph and pointed to it. “The spike is fading in 928C. Everything should be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” He swallowed, dipping his head to scratch the nape of his neck. “Hey, mira, I’m…sorry, about earlier.”

At her lack of response, he raised his eyes again and found that she had blinked away just as fast as she’d appeared.

Miguel released another sigh, cursing under his breath. He’d done enough damage for the day, he figured.

It didn’t take long to get to his quarters. The uppermost floor of the compound was glassed in on all sides, and bigger than Miguel would ever have wanted—but the construction of HQ had been primarily handled by LYLA seeing as he’d been busy hunting anomalies and recruiting other Spider-People to the collective, and with the haste to get everything up and running he hadn’t really stopped to consider anything besides the necessities. The old Alchemax facility suited perfectly to his needs, and having more money than he knew what to do with from his old position in the upper echelons of the blasted corporation, he’d let her have the reins so he could have more time to work.

To be fair, the living space was…nice. Just big, with amenities and furniture that felt a little too modern. (It made it feel all the more empty.)

Miguel shed the UMF suit and chunked it in the nano-regenerator, wincing as he tweaked the bruises around his ribs. Grappling with a man twice your size in a heavy suit of impenetrable armor while underwater was decidedly not his definition of a good Friday night.

He traipsed into the bathroom, tapping the screen to activate the shower and adjust its jet settings and temperature. He’d be healed by tomorrow, he knew, but the soreness would linger for a couple of days. He’d just have to try not to twist too much.

Miguel stopped to scrutinize himself in the mirror, not for the first time (and definitely not for the last).

The warm white light spilling from the mirror’s rim highlighted his silhouette and the numerous scars littering his frame, the edges of his reflection growing hazy from the steam billowing out over the top of the shower’s tall glass walls. He scarcely recognized himself from the man he’d been six months prior. Working so hard combined with constantly improving his strength for better mobility and endurance in the field had changed his figure so vastly from the lean muscle upon which he’d previously relied while managing Nueva York by himself. It felt surreal, sometimes—but if he could distance himself from the man he’d used to be in any way, he’d take it. Miguel no longer wanted to make mistakes like he did. (It might actually kill him, this time, if he did.)

Miguel shook his head with a low growl, reaching up to tug the loose locks of hair off his forehead—and, in so doing, reminded himself of the band still snugly hugging his ring finger. He regarded it for a long, tense moment as he ground his teeth until his temples throbbed. He fought down tooth and nail the tide of fluctuating emotions that the ring brought—when he wore the suit, he barely noticed it. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.

Miguel swallowed roughly and pulled it free, dropping it into the little ceramic dish next to his sink before trudging into the shower to scrub away his woes.

He did feel marginally better afterward, which was a small boon. Dressing in his favorite pair of worn sweats helped, too. He wasn’t hungry, but if he wanted to dissuade the headache with the abnormal amount of aspirin it took to even put a dent in his hyperactive metabolism, he’d have to eat something—so he fixed himself a club and choked it down with water.

By the time he’d settled into bed, flat on his back and gazing blankly up at the dark ceiling with an arm thrown over his forehead to shade his eyes from the city lights glowing along the skyline, his nerves had settled for the most part. He’d apologize to the ladies tomorrow. Maybe, as tired as he was, he’d actually be able to get more than three hours of sleep for once. (Doubtful.)

Miguel sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. He didn’t want to think about it. If he thought about it he’d get upset all over again. It had taken every iota of willpower he possessed just to get through the whole damn mission to begin with. One would think, after the couple of months that he’d had to get over the entire ordeal (his mistake—his greatest mistake—one he would never be able to reverse or rectify no matter how much he regretted it), that he’d have a better handle on his emotions. He’d fucked up catastrophically. Now he was forced to pick up the pieces by holding the multiverse together with nothing but his bare hands and his sheer force of will. He could never afford to allow his selfishness to influence the fate of the multiverse.

Miguel sucked in a deep breath, but the stretch twinged his ribs again. He turned over onto his side with a terse sigh, grabbing the pillow on the opposite end of the bed and stuffing it under himself in an attempt to buoy the bruises. Despite the darkness, his eyes still made out the shape of the overturned frame on the opposite nightstand.

Even while it was face-down, its glass face cracked beyond repair from the force of a previous breakdown, he recalled in perfect detail the picture it housed. You’d always insisted on printing out physical copies despite it having long since fallen to the wayside with the mass digitization nearly a century prior—the photo albums crammed into a box in the top of the closet were painful reminders of that habit. That one in particular had been your favorite: the pair of you at the park, lying on a canvas, red and white gingham picnic blanket, faces turned toward each other’s and away from the sun. You’d snuck the picture while he hadn’t been paying attention, having shut his eyes briefly because it had been unseasonably warm for early autumn, and he’d admittedly almost drifted off breathing in the fruity scent of your shampoo. You’d never told him about it until he’d noticed it’s addition on your bedside table a week later.

It had been the day of your fifth wedding anniversary. He’d lost you in a nearly identical manner to 928C’s alternative version of you—an inexplicable accident at Alchemax in the robotics laboratory where you’d enlisted your profession. Only when he’d tried to investigate further, he’d been drugged with Rapture by the CEO, and his attempt to revert his DNA back to its previous state was thwarted, resulting in…well, the monster of a genetic disaster that he was now, having to regularly utilize injecting a modified serum to tamp down the more feral aspects of the spider DNA slowly but surely attempting to overwrite his own.

His suit was technology you had developed. LYLA was a product of your collaboration with him. There were still sprinkles of you throughout his entire life, even though he’d buried you three years prior—the dimensional travel watch was spawned from the earliest prototypes that you had started, the Go-Home Machine adjacent technology, the anomaly analysis system—he couldn’t escape the ghosts of your influence no matter how much he tried.

Not that he wanted to. It was both torture and comfort to have you so close.

But losing you prematurely is what had spurred him to irrationality, upon discovering the neighboring universe where you’d lived instead and his alternative self had died—and the fact that you’d had Gabriella had broken what little resolve he’d tried to initially maintain. (Miguel didn’t want to think about the possibility that you might have been pregnant when you’d gone—he’d been vehemently avoiding the thought for years, and he’d continue to do so until the day he died because he wasn’t certain he could bear the confirmation of his worst fear.)

But his desperation to deny the multiverse of its cruel dictation of his life story had come back to bite him—he had paid the ultimate price for his negligence twice over.

Miguel squeezed his eyes shut against the hot sting threatening to spill over. He thought he’d been doing better—an incorrect assumption, evidently. The inconsistency of grief was what struck him blind every time. He’d known that he faced the likely possibility of running into another you going in to apprehend the anomaly, but…hearing your voice had nearly unmended him at the seams. Knowing he’d almost been too late to stop yet another you from getting killed…it had been all he could do to keep it together. Yes, he’d come across as dickish as a result—but if Jess knew how hard it had been to look at you (even if you weren’t his you) without falling at your knees, she’d understand why. He had to distance himself in order to spare both himself and this different version of you from the perpetual destruction that plagued him wherever he tread. He couldn’t lose you again. It would unmake him.

The rip of fabric tipped Miguel off that he’d accidentally perforated his pillowcase. Again. He groaned under his breath, curling himself further around the pillow wedged under his ribcage. The faintest whiffs of your old perfume clung to the cotton, and Miguel inhaled it greedily despite the sorrow that threatened to overcome him at the visceral memories it summoned behind his eyelids.

…He remembered that day in the picture clearly. You’d tasted like strawberries from the large bowl you’d eaten mostly by yourself, the sweetness and tartness lingering under your tongue. He could still feel the warmth of your hands on his face, your fingers carding through his hair as he’d rested in your lap while you read to him from your latest rom-com novel. You’d both ended up falling asleep for a few hours, exhausted from long shifts at work with increasingly demanding schedules, waking to the evening golden hour being overtaken by an ominous cumulonimbus. Halfway home the rain had started, and you’d both been soaked to the bone clambering into your shared apartment—and despite the chill, despite the wicker basket forever remaining warped from the overabundance of moisture, despite your recurring teasing over the years about his forecast research falling painfully short, you’d often recalled that day with unfathomable fondness.

He also remembered the desperation of his name on your lips when he’d found you after the explosion, already half-gone. You’d been terrified, confused—yet once you’d realized the inevitability of the situation, you’d circled around to comfort him instead. He’d never forgive himself for his own weakness preventing him from giving you peace, knowing he’d be all right as you’d slipped away, far beyond his mortal reach. (He wasn’t. But he’d wanted you to think he would be.)

That same desperation had tinged your alternate’s voice earlier. The terror, the confusion. He’d been fighting back tears at the agonizing recollection.

He let them spill, now, muffling himself into his pillow in a vain, feeble effort not to break the silence of his empty bedroom in his empty quarters that comprised his empty home.

…Maybe Jess had been right, after all, he thought later, once he’d had no more grief to shed. Face damp, eyes aching, head throbbing once more, he traced mindless patterns into the top sheet where you would have lain with his talon—always facing him, unless he’d managed to talk you into letting him hold you from behind. If this is how badly he felt from less than a minute’s worth of dialogue, how would you feel?

He did owe you an apology. And as much as the thought pained him, they did need more help around HQ. Miguel drifted into a fitful sleep, wondering if you looked any different under your mask.

#fisara's codices #fanfiction #mine #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara/reader #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spider verse

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griddlebait · 21 days

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Ooh have you ever made a floorplan of the sckl apartment? I’m a bit confused by Harrow’s loft area, is it above the kitchen? :0

i planned to make the floor plan on the sims but i’m out of practice with building so for now i’ll share the floor plan i drew to use as a reference. i want to apologize in advance for 1) my handwriting 2) the ugliness 3) harrow’s “staircase” i can’t draw for shit. this makes the apartment look bigger than it should but i drew this up pretty quickly and it was mostly just to get an idea of where everything is

but anyway, harrow’s loft is above gideon’s room. it looks more like a flag but the box with the X is meant to represent the little platform at the top of the stairs 😭

this is just how the layout looks to me personally, everyone’s free to picture it however they like ofc

#asks #sckl #the downstairs is inspired by an apartment i lived in as a kid #i have like. 4 house/apartment layouts that i envision when reading or writing no matter the actual description #i can’t picture something like that on my own

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elitadream · 8 months

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Ok so I randomly had this angsty idea come to me at 2 in the morning and I thought I would share the pain lol

Mario is successful in defeating Bowser and rescuing Peach once again. It was a long and exciting adventure, a bit rough during some parts, but as always Mario prevailed. He tells her of all the places he’s been and all the enemies he had to fight. But it was all worth it in the end. Nothing could’ve stopped him from saving the woman he loves.

It’s the journey back home that proves to be the biggest challenge. Harsh storms and dropping temperatures take a toll on them as they constantly seek shelter. Peach insists she can keep going, but it’s painfully obvious the cold is getting to her. Mario offers her anything he can to make her comfortable, though there’s only so much he can do. He didn’t prepare for weather like this.

Eventually it gets to a point Peach can barely move. Her body feels numb, she’s shaking like a leaf. Her legs are already achy and sore from walking so far she can’t take another step. Mario doesn’t hesitate to start carrying her. He braves the storm, crossing rivers and valleys, keeping the princess secure in his arms. Peach tries to tell him not to wear himself out and to take a rest. But there’s nowhere to go but forward, so he stubbornly keeps going, promising to bring her home where she’ll be warm and safe again.

After days and days of endless rain/snow and starvation, he finally sees the Mushroom Kingdom in the distance. He drops to his knees, at last letting his body take a break. He smiles in relief and tells her they made it home. But when he looks down at the girl in his arms, his smile fades instantly. Her face is sickly pale, her eyes remain closed. She doesn’t respond when he calls her name. Her body is no longer quivering like it had been the whole trip.

Rather or not she survived I’ll leave up to you, but when I pictured it it just broke my heart thinking about how Mario is able to save her from monsters and a fire-breathing turtle, but the one thing he couldn’t save her from was Mother Nature itself.

Ooh I love this idea.

Scenarios that bring forth Mario's enduring determination, bravery and selflessness are always my favorites, but in a world where enemies abound, we rarely see those qualities being exploited in a context where said foes are absent from the picture. But when we look at the world itself, we realize that active opponents ironically aren't always the biggest danger Mario has to face.

From my own gaming experience, I can say that I've actually died more often due to the tricky layout of the level than because of the enemies patrolling inside of it, and I think this would serve as a wonderful basis for a dire journey.

It's tragic and heart-wrenching, but it also makes a lot of sense. These realms can be very unforgiving and life-threatening at times, and it would certainly be a challenge for both Mario and Peach to survive the whole way back.

With that said, I'll go with the alternative where she does live, if you don't mind! 😭

#asks #mario #princess peach #wonderful concept!!#just reading this made me so sad ;_;#poor Mario. and poor Peach! 💔#survival stories have so much potential- I feel it would really work splendidly with these characters 👏#thank you for sharing! ✨️

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arminsumi · 7 months

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HI JAY can i request accidentally getting armin hard?🤭 straddling him during something odm related for whatever n bro gets bricked up to the high heavens n youre both so shy n flustered BUT YALL GOTTA FUCK ATP

needa feel you

🔞 minors shoo / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content

note: ooh i love love love this !! fits armin perfectly 🤤

warnings — dirty talk, d!ck visuals, light begging, unprotected sex, creampie, creaming, prec*m, u and him being horny

you were just demonstrating to him a better hip shifting technique to go faster, and the poor boy blushed up to his ears. searing. hot. red. he started stuttering so badly he felt like he was a boy in the cadets again.

and when armin gets hard? god damn he gets hard. throbbing. hot. his juicy tip presses tight against those already tight white pants, the outline looking so good you wanna tug those pants off and take him into your mouth.

when you smile at him after noticing his hardness, he sputters apologies. " fuck, i'm sorry, haha. i-i don't know what's the matter with me, sorry. uh, sh-shit well don't move like that or you'll make it worse. "

" it's — okay. i don't mind. it's... natural, after all. " you speak slowly, nerves tingly. " wh - y... why don't we take care of it so we can get back to practicing more positions — uh, combat positions, you know. of course. "

his eyes widen, the whites showing around those pretty blue irises. you just completely flustered the poor boy.

but those eyes become lidded when the two of you end up with your bodies intertwined, sweaty and noisy and panting, fucking like two bunnies. it's all because of how you grinded your hips on his pelvis so erotically earlier.

feeling your plush thighs engulf his sides made him beg like a dog: "needa feel you, needa feel you so fucking bad please please please let's just d-do it here." he panted, kissing you like a lust-crazed teenager. as soon as you breathlessly nodded, he unfastened his belt — not bothering with taking off all his gear... that's just too much effort. so you fuck half-clothed, and it drives him wild. he's always eyed out the way the thigh belts squeeze your skin and make plush dents.

he's high on lust, head spinning. min's so dizzy from the feeling of your soft walls clenching tight around him, hugging his pretty, veined cock. you're milking out all his precum, creaming so much that a white wring forms around the base of his cock and he can feel it.

you feel and taste so sweet to him, it's too much. he has to stop thrusting every now and then just to catch his breath. and when he does that, his dumb fat tip digs into your favorite gummy spot, his length unmoving. his happy trail hair subtly grazes against your tummy as he keeps himself as close as possible to your body.

" that's so good — so good — so good so good, you feel so fucking good. s-ooo fucking good, baby ! " he pants, vocals straining and brows kneading together.

his body tenses up, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down the contours of his physique.

" don't stop, please don't you fucking stop, 'min. gonna make me cum. " you speak and shiver when he starts up those sloppy strokes again.

your head goes empty, body goes numb on pleasure; how can it feel this insanely good? min's falling apart under your influence. when he cums, he blurts out some surprising things.

like a chant of " i love you i love you i love you — i fucking love you ! " right as he fills you to the brim with his creamy release.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#mdni #smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin x reader smut #armin x you #armin x y/n #aot smut #snk smut #armin x reader #armin #armin arlert #aot #snk #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader

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itsyourimaginaryworld · 1 year

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Miss Impatient | Illinois x Fem!Reader

Ship: Illinois x Fem!Reader Requested by: @nickaroo Warnings: near-death experience Notes: Super late fic, hope you enjoy nonetheless! x Words: 705

You weren’t sure how you had ended up saying yes to Illinois taking you with him, a man you’d only met a few weeks ago, but ever since, you had been going on adventure after adventure, without regret. None of your days were boring ever again and the friendship between you was like a passionately burning fire. Today was special, as he said he’d take you to Kitten Heaven, the best place you were ever going to see.

“Are we there yet?” you asked. Not that you were typically one to complain, but even the death traps you and Illinois faced on a daily basis couldn’t scare you out of rushing your way through the tombs as much as you could.

“Little miss impatient today, are we?” he replied, walking behind you in a more calm manner.

You dodged an arrow coming out of a dispenser, light on your feet as ever, and narrowly avoided stepping on another pressure plate. Illinois looked over with a bit of concern, but also knew how good you had become at avoiding the traps, so he didn’t say anything.

“We’re going to Kitten Heaven and you expect me to be patient?” you said, a hint of defense in your voice as you hopped over a tripwire.

Illinois didn’t say anything, as he was distracted by something else. He reached into an old dusty chest with spiderwebs all over it. Looting was a fun part of every adventure, but even now you purposely ignored whatever was lying around. That is until Illinois pulled out a necklace made out entirely of bright, sparkly crystals, it being so pretty looking that it would be inhuman to not be entirely captivated by it.

Ooh, shiny! Excited, you hurried back over to him but felt your heart sink when your ankles touched the familiar tripwire you had avoided before.

Click.

Illinois saw it first — his familiarity with the layout of tombs and the way the sound cues echoed around helped him realize. Two trapdoors opened in the ceiling above you and Illinois leaped forward, tackling you out of the way without thinking twice. Nearly half a second later, the sharpest-looking spikes you’d ever seen fell down and pierced themselves into the ground where you had been standing.

Illinois and you barely processed what happened, both looking back at the trap in horror, and then back at each other. You didn’t know whether you were gonna burst out laughing or crying from the adrenaline.

“You alright?” Illinois asked, still lying on top of you. He’d say it’s because he’s avoiding activating another trap, but really, he wasn’t ready to let you go yet, now finally having an excuse to be so close to you.

“Yeah...” You said, blinking slowly. “You saved me...”

“Oh, don’t worry, that’s just what I do.” He tried to sound casual but you could hear the smug undertone and tried to not roll your eyes and laugh like usual.

“I’ve got this all under control, sweetheart.”

You blushed hard at the nickname (some things you just don’t get used to) and tried to hide your look of disappointment when he got off of you, now feeling cold and less safe without him there.

He extended his hand to you to help you up, and you took it.

When you were both standing upright again he gently put the necklace around your neck.

“You’re gonna need a hero for the rest of your life if we’re gonna keep adventuring,” he said. You looked down, still blushing hard about what happened. But then he lifted up your chin with two fingers and forced you to look him in the eye. “I said I was married to the job when I met you, but honestly, I’ve loved you from the start. I can’t lose you...”

Your stomach filled with butterflies. There was no way... Was this actually happening? Did he like you back? Was all you had to do for a confession this entire time just “have a near-death experience?”

“You’re the lucky one who gets Illinois.”

You laughed, kissed him on the lips, and immediately looked away again, unable to say anything at all. He understood and pulled you closer than ever before.

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