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atlabeth · 4 days

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take my breath away

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.

a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy

wc: 1.3k

warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff

“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?”

“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.”

“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.”

“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.”

“You never did sports as a kid?”

“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.”

Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.”

“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.”

“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.”

Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help.

You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed.

(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)

Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit.

His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face.

“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.”

“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?”

“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.”

Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.”

“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.”

You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?”

“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—”

“That coffee I had?” you interrupted.

He nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.”

Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.”

“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.”

“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated.

“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.”

“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?”

He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.”

“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.”

“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”

“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused.

“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.”

Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.”

You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?”

“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.”

For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.”

“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?”

You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer.

When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot.

“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head.

“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.”

Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”

“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased.

“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.”

“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.”

Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.”

“But my teasing’s okay?”

He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.”

His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time.

“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?”

“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.”

Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

#i know this scene in the show does not happen in s2 but i alsoooo do not care lol. canon continuity is dead to me in my fics #s2 spence my beloved<3 #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

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Paws and Pixels: VoxPet™️

Tiny!Vox x Reader

A/N: Totally writing this thing because of a cute chat session I had with some wonderful people on a Hazbin discord server, it's a shitposty idea but it was a cute one so I couldn't help but write about it. A continuation to "Get off my Screen!" is in the works alongside some other requests too! I'm just glad it was received so well, thanks y'all!

A/N: Btw, the chibi Vox art isn't mine. I might draw something similar with a Y/N eventually though so message me or request it in my askbox if you wanna see it XD

You wished you could say it was a normal day.

But truth be told-

It was so far off from that.

The Vee tower was complete mess by the time you had arrived.

The place was often busy, you knew that much-

But to fall into complete disarray?

Your beloved would have never even allowed it.

Speaking of your lover, where the hell was he?

His absence left you more than puzzled, this was Vox you were talking about after all.

Mr. I-have-to-keep-an-eye-on-everything-or-it-all-entirely-goes-to-shit-

You couldn't say he was wrong this time however, walking towards the elevator with intent to find the other Vees.

But of course they ended up finding you first.

It was Velvette who abruptly dragged you away from the chaos in the office.

Not that you still quite understood what was going on and the reason for her urgency.

"WhaA- Vel??"

"Sorry darling, we've got a bit of an issue as you can clearly tell- but there's just something I absolutely must show you."

You didn't really even have time to ask questions before you saw Valentino rush past you.

Was he holding a phone in each hand?

He barely even greeted you in his hasty exit, probably too busy with the 4 phone conversations he was having simultaneously.

All this chaos and your boyfriend still hasn't shown up.

You started getting worried that something happened to him.

But what Velvette ended up showing you was definitely not at all what you expected.

Especially since you didn't expect to find Vox here of all places.

That and... he wasn't quite himself.

Not that you were complaining, but it was really weird seeing your boyfriend so tiny.

He was probably plushie-sized to be honest.

You would have found it cute if it weren't for the shock from everything else.

The tiny Vox visibly perked up when he saw you.

Was he beeping or squeaking?

"What... what the fuck even happened???"

"Do you want the whole story or a TLDR?"

While you lightly poked the smaller Vox that stood atop the table, Velvette quickly updated you on what had transpired before your arrival.

Apparently, Vox had gone and gotten himself in trouble with some goons earlier in the day.

It wasn't often Vox would get hurt by anything, he was an overlord after all-

But sometimes people got lucky or they really just ganged up on him in big numbers.

The good news was he won, the bad news was he'd gotten pretty beat up because of it.

Shattered screen, fried motherboard, stray wires, and a whole other myriad of issues to boot.

He'd come back to the tower needing a ton of repairs.

Problem was, he'd run out of the needed spare parts and his backup body wasn't in any good condition to be used either.

So go figure, your creative boyfriend decided to handle his situation in another way after he'd put in the order for said needed parts.

They'd probably arrive in just a few days but seriously-

You could only stare at the tiny version of your lover in bewilderment.

There was absolutely no understanding of what was running through this man's brain.

He was even wearing a miniature version of his typical outfit, coat and all!

"Soooo... has he just been in here the whole time?"

"Pretty much. He doesn't really talk either, Val and I haven't figured out if it's because he can't or won't."

"Oh lord."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, patting the tiny Vox with your hands.

You honestly wanted to be more mad at the situation-

But Vox really just looked too cute.

You just wanted to freakin squeeze him-

"I'm gonna need a purse to carry him around..."

"Oh wow, you're treatin' 'im like a pet already."

You rolled your eyes at Velvette's comment, looking down at your currently tiny boyfriend to find him staring at you.

He had absolutely no business being this cute-

"I'm taking him home, I'd gather that you and Val can handle things here?"

"For the most part, just be a dear and make sure nothing else happens to 'im until his parts arrive."

You just rolled your eyes again.

Great way of stating the obvious Velvette.

Besides, Vox was still an overlord and the strongest of the Vees.

His powers shouldn't have been affected in this form right??

There was no way your beloved went ahead and made himself as harmless as he looked-

At least that's what you had hoped.

However, you picked him up in both hands- you were starting to doubt that.

Vox merely tilted his monitor head to get a better look at you before beeping, his legs dangled slightly from how you held him.

BEEPING AGAIN.

WHERE ARE YOUR WORDS FOOL-

"Huh, he's never made that sound before."

You were really starting to regret even walking into the building today.

And that was of course when your miniature boyfriend decided it was the perfect time to lightly zap you.

It didn't hurt, but it was enough for your attention to go back to him.

Only to see his face all pink with a bunch of hearts emoticons on it.

This little shit-

You really couldn't stay mad at him for long.

Eventually when you were able to get a grip on yourself, Velvette handed you a purse to put Vox in as requested- and you were on your way home.

What did the other Vees even expect you to do with Vox like this?

Did you accidentally become your boyfriend's babysitter??

Today was just way too tiring for you already.

You practically collapsed on the couch once you got home.

Dropping the purse with tiny lover in it on one of the nearby cushions, you didn't really care about the annoyed squeaking that came from inside the bag from the rough landing.

Vox just crawled out of the small purse with a huff.

He figured you would've liked him being all cute this way.

But judging by your reactions-

He couldn't tell if you liked it or hated it.

He did feel slightly bad seeing how tired you were though.

Practically waddling over towards you, Vox patted your head trying to get your attention.

When that didn't work he started beeping and squeaking until you raised your head and looked at him again.

And you were surprised when he awkwardly moved to hug you.

Well, hug your face rather.

The words: "I'm sorry." flashing on his tiny screen.

You sighed tiredly.

Even if he was a little infuriating at times, you still loved Vox's antics.

This one included.

"It's okay, I'm okay. Everything just happened way too fast."

A heart then appeared on his tiny screen face and you pretty much melted.

He was just too fuckin cute.

A/N: Might write a part 2 for this with other headcanons, this was so friggin adorable AHAHAHAHAHA

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #vox #vox x reader #vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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tarjapearce · 2 months

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Chapter 7: Silent Violence is Humbled

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Tension, Angst, emotional discomfort, fluff and comfort towards the end, Strained friendships, verbal abuse, character introspection, character study, anger, hurt, family dynamics.

Summary: Karma keeps it's siege, and a new milestone hits the mark.

A/N: So. sorry for the delay, had to make some reports for my internship (I'm almost done and out with it 🥹 yay.)

Leaving the hospital wasn't precisely good. A new debt was added to your already trembling credit and to top it off, you were left with meds, a scheduled appointment with a therapist and a plethora of vitamins and supplements.

Of course you had reported everything but the gruesome details to your immediate boss. Not that she didn't sound convinced, rather shocked you were in the hospital.

You only could hope complications wouldn't be a regular guest in your life and bank account.

"I can hear you thinking from here. You ok?" MJ mumbled as she stirred a couple of eggs into the pan. You stared into the endless and spiralling void. Picking at the hospital's pale blue plastic band around your wrist.

You had spaced out as soon as you got home, the remnants of the perilous encounter with Miguel somehow still remained etched to your skin and mind. Unable to let go completely.

"I think I'll start looking for a better paying job somewhere else."

MJ watched you for a second, "You'll quit Alchemax?"

With a groan, you slouched on the dining table, placing a hand ontop of your head

"I'd love to, but I can't yet. Not until I have something certain anyways. Gotta suck it up for a bit more."

"I'll help you look up on other companies, who knows maybe we find a better thing for you. I don't feel comfortable with you being there with that crazy asshole working in there too. Do you want extra bacon?"

"Pretty please. Thank you, MJ. And yeah, if you're not a scientist in Alchemax, you're basically another exploited worker."

"Stop thanking me. You're my best friend. And I'll help, let me ask Peter if he knows about something somewhere."

She served the breakfast and placed the plate before you. Mayday announced her awakening with a mumble, her tiny hands rubbed her eyes to then look around sleepily, until her blue eyes met MJ.

You couldn't help but stare at the motherly displaying ritual.

Mayday's eyes lit up, shining brighter as MJ approached with a genuine smile that only matched her daughter's.

Your best friend enveloped her little girl in her arms, showering her in affection, earning her a couple of lovely squeals.

"Rested well, sweetheart?"

"Ma ma"

Those syllables alone made your heart leap as a myriad of emotions flooded your brain. The concept you had of it wasn't nothing alike what you were witnessing. There wasn't unnecessary yelling, cussing or physical abuse. All the opposite. A little rush of envy coursed through, but it faded quickly as it came.

It was odd, really. To behold such intimate moment of bonding between the both. It came so natural, full of love and everything you, sometimes at your age still were getting acquainted with. Patience, understanding and caring.

Mayday rested her head on MJ's shoulder and stared at you. Like seizing you for the first time ever, paying attention to your very moves, curious, scrutinizing your soul with her lovely and innocent eyes, leaving no room for disingenuous acts.

You gulped

"Hello" You waved coyly and your heart trembled with something unknown as she giggled your way, approving of your presence. She knew no evil nor judgement. Mayday didn't judge you. Just like her mother. She was pure joy.

"When's the shrink's appointment?"

MJ's voice snapped you out of your mutinied thoughts.

"Uh in a month or two." You mumbled while digging in your breakfast. It tasted like utter love and heaven after having nothing in your stomach for more than a day, and your stomach tolerated it well.

"Are you nervous?" MJ fed Mayday with the bottle, your mind subconsciously took notes of the way she held, fed and talked to her.

"Very. Not a fan of spilling my issues to strangers, even if it's their job."

"I know it might be difficult for you, considering the shitty attention you had before with them. But if the doctor says so, you must do it."

"I know." Your lips sighed, heavy with resignation to then purse into a tiny smile, " I just wanna move on, you know?"

"You will, I know so. You're strong, sweetie. Now eat up and drink your vitamins."

You chuckled, feeling her maternal instinct through the table.

"I think I'm already gaining weight."

MJ chortled as she wiped Mayday's cheek and lips, to then kiss the tip of her nose.

"Wait until you get your feet swollen, the hormone changes. Acne on your back, and the need to jump on-"

"Ok! ok, got it." Your cheeks flushed as the redhead just laughed now at your embarrassment.

"It won't be easy, but you'll get used to some stuff. You'll see."

-----

If there was something that Peter wouldn't openly admit, was the fact he disliked Miguel's sense of disposition of his time.

Sometimes his friend's hubristic demands had him juggling between his own time and his family.

Peter hated when Miguel simply let him know he was on his way. He didn't care if he was busy or was about to be, but also meant one thing. Stress was eating Miguel alive and he, as his best friend, was the only he could rely onto to take away such heavy burden.

With a sigh, Peter prepared mentally for the night. Specially to give his ever patient wife an explanation of a sudden visit. As if the universe made sure MJ and Miguel to never properly meet beyond pleasantries. If they had seen and meet eachother a couple of times was too many.

MJ was either out because of work, leaving him and Mayday alone, or the days and hours Miguel visited were when MJ was already asleep or too busy to sit and socialise with her husband's friends.

Peter has known Miguel for a couple of years by now, and still things didn't change.

He put a couple of beers to cool, then stirred the pasta. Miguel wasn't a picky eater, yet it made Peter stress over the food choice. But MJ wanted pasta and he was none to ignore his wife's whims over his friend's.

How long has it been since he saw Miguel? Months? Half a year? He didn't remember, but hoped that he wouldn't stay too long. Work had chewed, ate and spat him on the floor way too many times to count today.

His shoulders slumped, defeated before hia daughter's sweetness when Mayday gave him a toothy grin, he returned the smile, although tiredly.

"Let's get you some dinner."

He held his daughter in one arm, as he served a bit of noodles in her favorite spider-ham bowl and somw juice in her sippy cup. Peter put her in her chair and placed the food before her just in time as the doorbell rang.

"It's not that I don't like him, you know? I'm just tired today." Peter mumbled to himself and Mayday as he scratched his stubble and walked over the door.

May could only look at him, curious, bur the bright colors of her cup demanded her attention. To his little surprise, the man in question was there, scrolling through his phone in the meantime. Dressed in a casual button shirt, dark jeans and dress shoes, holding a small bag of sweets as a gift.

"Could you please start letting me know when you're coming over from now on? It's not that hard."

Peter's frustration wafted through his words as Miguel chuckled and followed him, the smell of cologne tickled the host's nose, almost a bit too pungent.

"Had to. Needed a distraction. Here"

He handed the paper bag to him, full of artisanal mexican sweets. At least this time, Miguel was thoughtful enough to bring something he knew Peter liked.

But it also meant one thing. A long night ahead.

With a sigh and defeated shoulders, Peter went to the kitchen, rummaging through the simple glassware to fetch a couple of glasses.

"I have... soda, apple juice, can't give you the beer until Mayday's asleep."

Miguel just quirked a brow and went for water. It was kinda bothersome for him how something so trivial as drinking a beer was a forbidden thing among parents whenever their children were around.

Overprotection and alienation from such things would only make them curious if anything. At least that's how it worked for Miguel. Still, it was Peter's home, and he had to play by the unspoken parenting rules his friend followed to a T.

How inconvenient

Miguel's eyes wandered through the table to land on Mayday. As a happy kid she was, the sauce was smeared all over her cheeks and chin, even her hands and forearms. Some noodles hung on her chin.

Even though his logical side appealed towards a scientific fact about babies discovering everything through their hands and mouth, the sole idea of having to deal with it on a daily basis and probably at every hour the kid would be awake and eating, made his eyes to tear away from the child and sigh, relieved he didn't have to cope with that sort of problem.

He had done his part, and against all logic, you had decided to keep the baby.

Pendeja. (Dumbass)

He huffed, annoyed to none but himself.

What would you do? It wasn't his problem anymore. He had more important things to think about than you and your stupid choices. His jaw clenched.

" You're gonna scare Mayday if you keep glaring like that."

Peter spoke as he cleaned up his daughter after feeding her with some bits of sausages. Miguel sighed as his arms untangled from his chest. A habit he subconsciously adopted as he was way too deep in negative thoughts. He gave his body some slack. He had came here in order to relax amd distract himself.

"Wanna tell me what happened or you wanna wait by having some pasta?"

In fact, now that Miguel was here he could take a good look at the scene before him. Peter had changed so much to the point of transforming himself into a completely different persona.

There was no more staying up past one am, lost in beers and talking about whatever thing alcohol made him spill out of his mouth. Reluctantly, good days. And now Peter was serving him some overcooked pasta that somehow tasted good. Even for him.

Hypocrite.

His mind reprimanded himself. He had wanted kids once but now seeing how it changed and rewired the brain chemistry and your fiasco, the thought of them had been shoved to the very back of his priorities. He had a career and money to make, not play house amd happy family with a stranger.

As much as Peter was his only true friend, he didn't want to look awful and perpetually tired because of a kid, like him.

With a sigh he dug on the food while staring at the both. The tangy smell of the sauce induced the little hunger he ate the pasta. A couple of minutes later passed when the key's tinkering echoed from the main door, revealing none other than MJ balancing a couple of paper bags in hands.

Miguel watched as Peter immediately rushed to her side and helped her out, while welcoming her with a kiss.

"Smells good!" MJ chirped and made her way towards the kitchen, Mayday's eyes lit up as soon as she saw her mama. A bubbly squeal received her when MJ ruffled her fiery curls and took her in her arms, rattling Miguel's ears.

"Hello there, precious" MJ kissed her cheek but then focused her gaze on Miguel. He tensed briefly to then give a polite smile.

"Hey."

MJ nodded and gave her respective hello back. Peter came into the dinning table with an awkward smile. He didn't need to explain the presence of his friend to his wife, as she quickly picked up the cue to get Mayday to sleep.

For some reason, the energy in the room was suffocating. As if Miguel was the black hole sucking the life and energy out of everything even without intending. Yet, Peter tried to shoo the negative aura that lurked around ominously by unpacking the groceries as he talked to MJ

"How was your day?"

"Good, a bit tiresome. But definitely better now than I'm home."

"Want extra cheese in your pasta? Oh! Miguel got us some candies."

MJ smiled politely at him, "Thanks for that. I loved the eh... Maz-uhpan?"

"Mazapán." he corrected gently.

"That thing. Peter, dear can you get the tub ready for May?"

It was Peter's cue to meet her in private.

"Excuse me." She took Mayday and Peter followed, leaving Miguel alone for a moment. Giving him a break from unwanted displays of family dynamics.

Once in the bathroom and away from prying eyes and ears, MJ cleared her throat

"Before you get angry, I didn't know he was coming until fourty five minutes ago."

MJ quirked a brow knowingly and huffed.

"I know. Still, the least he could do is to let us know he's coming over, Pete."

Peter nodded while rubbing his face, tiredly.

"I'm sorry, ok? Will make him go away soon. He's not having a good time right now."

MJ rolled her eyes while Peter added some soap to the water.

"Yeah, he only comes for a visit whenever he needs something out of you."

"MJ" Peter grunted the silent plea. 'Not now.'

She chuckled and kissed his cheek, "You know it's true. But, if it works for you, then ok. Just don't stay up past one. You snore too loud whenever you get little sleep."

"Relax, he probably just want to ramble, take a beer and leave."

"Alright, alright. He could tone his perfume a bit though. I can smell him from here. Go have fun."

-----

The beers clinked in the table, their taste numbed briefly Miguel's throat and tongue. It burned good as the sour liquid rolled down his esophagus, while Peter rambled on about the many pictures he showed him of Mayday.

Not that he didn't appreciate Peter's attempt to make him forget whatever problems were pestering his mind. But if honest, he grew tired after the sixth photo.

"You should have another."

That made Peter shut up and he chuckled.

"No no. With her is enough."

"You sound regretful."

Miguel mumbled as he finished his beer, Peter shook his head vehemently.

"At all. I know I look like shit, Mig. Still, would do it all over again. Like, look at this!" Peter got the screen close to his bored face with another picture and Miguel pushed it away softly.

"Yeah, she's a pretty girl. Got it."

"You don't get it. Once a kid shows up, everything changes."

You've got no idea...

His mind replied, as his body tensed once more.

"Have you talked about this with Dana?"

The name only made the urge to down the other beer in a go, but his mind almost slapped some sense into him and reminded him this wasn't his home.

MJ's steps alerted both men briefly as she came for her extra bowl of soggy pasta and wash Mayday's bottles.

"We broke up." He stated simply with a disdainful shrug

"What the fuck?

MJ turned to Peter, a brow quirked at his choice of words but focused again on the bottle.

"Miguel, you texted me, saying you were looking for wedding venues with Dana. And now you're single again?"

MJ's breath hitched.

Dana

Oh God

Dana D'Angelo.

Miguel's fiance. And the one that slapped you.

MJ had been so busy with work and her motherly duties that totally forgot about her husband's companion.

Miguel.

The man that only relied on her husband's company whenever life was too much for him. An acquaintance that she had only seen a couple of times and shared the same roof as her, although briefly in the few times Peter invited him over.

And also, the man that had gotten you pregnant, and had sent you to the hospital in a fit of rage. The very man that was causing you so much pain, had taken a place on her table, with her family and now was talking comfortably with her husband about his failed love, thanks to none other but himself.

Her heart wrenched and beat so fast in between powerful contractions that it made her breath shaky.

A monster was in her home. A terrible man had waltzed into her safe space and was tainting with his rottenness everything he touched, with his pungent and hubristic smell. His cologne and attitude only made her stomach churn.

"It didn't work out."

She turned to see him, unbelieving in her green eyes. So well behaved, ever polite and not an ounce of guiltiness in his judging stare. Entitled even, as if the world owed him just cause he existed. MJ understood now why it was so easy for you to fall into his trap, but the anger that clawed at her brain was greater than anything she had experienced before.

How dared he come into her home and play the victim when he had forsaken you and his child? How dared he disrupt the natural balance in her house with his mere presence?

"She was getting too annoying for me, anyways. Always behaving crazy." Miguel gestured with a terse movement of his hand before slicking his dark brown strands back.

Oh, how dared he. Those last words made her patience thread to stretch impossibly thin, that it broke.

"Well of course she'll act crazy! You fucking cheated on her!." MJ's hands balled tight at her sides, and glared daggers at Miguel.

Both men snapped to look in her way.

Miguel's eyes widened and Peter blinked almost stupidly at his wife and then at his friend that seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. Few little things in life managed to surprise Miguel, and MJ exposing his dirtiest secret to the only person he trusted outside Dana so carelessly and abruptly, had definitely caught him off guard.

"W-What?"

"He cheated on Dana, Peter."

Miguel swallowed thickly, a shaky breath turned into a steady one, anger coursing through his veins, his mahogany eyes narrowed.

Not them too...

He rubbed his face and hair again, trying to remain composed. If Dana had came for him and gave him no truce, MJ went straight to the jugular. Remorselessly for the kill.

How did she know?

A new wave of fury washed over him at the sudden implication his mind was brewing with, his hand clawed at his bouncing knee.

Did she know you?

What a sick, twisted and small world he lived in. Of course she did. Or else he wouldn't be here, trying to come up with a reply to his shocked friend. But he was cut short from everything, even thinking.

"You don't know shit." Miguel couldn't help but hiss, and his words were enough to throw Peter's patience out the window.

"That's my wife you're talking to, pal." Peter scowled, flabbergasted at Miguel's words as he stood with a warning finger waving at his... friend?, "Tone it the fuck down."

"She doesn't know what she's talking about, Pete!"

Miguel felt ridiculous, not only cause the now constant need of explaining himself, but the absurdity of the situation. He was holding his friend's arm, trying to get Peter to believe him, just like he did with Dana.

But Peter was focused into getting MJ calmed down as she kept cussing his way

"Of course I know, asshole!" She spat, "I know enough of you to say how much of a piece of shit you are!"

That definitely earned her a growl "Whatch your fucking tone"

"Or what?! You'll try and hurt me too like you did with (Name)?! My friend has been suffering nonstop because of your pathetic excuses of being a man!"

If the many years prior to marry MJ taught Peter something, was that if she used foul language meant she was beyond pissed, and rightfully so. She wasn't one for cursing, and things surely would end up terribly wrong.

"You cheated your fiancé, got my best friend pregnant and demanded her to get an abortion-"

"Wait... You... you did what?" Peter's eyes widened and hardened, Miguel was cornered as Peter faced him, still containing his wife.

"No, no. That's bullshit!" Miguel's hand gestured as the other anchored to his hip. His poor attempt of bravery did nothing but set the fire ablaze in its full glory, it all had caught him so off guard he barely could think of comebacks to fend for himself.

"God... You're such a fucking liar!" Peter held MJ back as she seethed, trying to get a hold of Miguel, "I was there at the clinic with her! Cause she tried to correct your fucking mess!"

"I tried to fix-"

"You don't get shit fixed by writing her a fucking check and tell her to get rid of your child! Man the fuck up already! She's so under so much pressure now-"

"Because she's so stupid and chose to fucking keep that thing!" roared Miguel. Tired of being cornered without his usual pretense of control. Shoulders heaving with shaky and wrathful breaths, realizing the mistake he just did.

Peter glowered at him. Not only had he dared to yell at his wife but had been lying to him this whole time. And Mayday was crying. The commotion had been too great that woke her up.

Another pillar in his life was crumbling around, shaking the little constants he still remained with, to their very core.

Peter seized with him a look he had never seen before in his apparently dumb face. Disgust. He was about to protest but Peter's question only brought him to a too bright and unwanted spotlight.

"Is that true?" The tinge in Parker's voice held nothing but utter disbelief, not accusing, but skeptical. As if realizing he was being fooled this whole time as well. Peter slapped Miguel's hands away as he tried to reach for him again.

Shit

His aloof act had spreaded way too fast that didn't give it time to properly root and settle on his inner's circle brains ro control later. Peter growled at the stretching and pregnant silence.

"I'm fucking talking to you." The hard push of his hand made him sway softly, "Is that true!?"

Miguel's eyes widened. Peter's bravado and anger was something he didn't know until now. If honest, Miguel thought of him a complete goof that did everything his wife told him to. A complete mandilón.

If MJ told him to bark, he would and even do a flip while at it. But this man before him was different. Confident, authoritative, honorable, pushing his patience to new limits and oh so disgusted at his actions. A true father and man, unlike him.

A reluctant daddy.

Miguel really had a hard time grasping the magnitude of his doings and how they affected others, cause his remorse was absent. Everything he should be feeling at this collective verbal berating was gone. He was more focused in the defensive than offensive, and he failed.

Upon Miguel's silence, Peter just stared at him and sighed. He wasn't worth it.

"You need to leave, Miguel."

Ash soured the aforementioned throat. A thick lump knotted tightly on Miguel's windpipe.

"What? You're believing every word that comes out of her just like that?"

The question itself was stupid, he knew much so. But Peter didn't budge, in fact, he didn't even look at him as MJ went to fetch her daughter.

"You gotta be kidding me, Parker"

"Am I fucking joking? No. Leave." He shimmied away from Miguel's grasping hands with a disgruntled growl

"Look, I know I fucked up, okay-"

"Damn right you did" Peter pushed him away once more

"Can you listen?! " Tanned fingers sunk on Peter's arms forcefully, preventing him from escaping further, but that only earned him a powerful shove that made him nearly fall. Unlike you, that barely moved him an inch .

"Not this time. I talk and you listen. My home, my rules. Don't like it, get the fuck off." Peter hissed, the day's misfortunes and stress had piled up in his brain and Miguel's actions did nothing but set it all on fire.

"You can't just come into my house unannounced, yell at my wife for calling you out and your bullshit and expect me to remain quiet." His hands moved frantically, "You can't go around acting stupid, being a shitty friend, hurting people and believing the world owes you shit, Miguel!"

Peter turned his back on him, breathing deeply, trying to control the rising anger, finally breaking contact. His shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I knew you were an asshole, but c'mon man... Your own child? Really?" His blue eyes felt like an iceberg caressing upon seizing him a over his shoulder.

"Y dale con la misma pendejada... I did what I thought was right, okay?!" Miguel protested, trying to appeal to that good side that definitely lacked right now.

Peter turned again and stepped in a few strides closer to him, fear lacked in his glare, instead a fiery and scorching fury burned within

"Manning up is the right thing." His calm seething only made Miguel gulp, "Owing your mistakes is the right thing to do!" Peter's voice raised an octave louder

"What kind of fucked up logic is to think you can choose to cheat but choose to not face the consequences?!" Peter jabbed with force his index finger at the treacherous man's chest before him as he hissed every word.

"Funny thing is that you always saw me as a clown. Always bragged on how perfect your life was and thought of me a man child." Each word that came out from Peter was like a stone hitting Miguel,

"And look at you now, acting exactly like that!. How ironic that the roles reversed now." Peter's voice trailed off.

Miguel rolled his eyes so hard it hurted "No me jodas, Parker. Don't fuck with me with your shitty morals You didn't want children either, remember?!."

Disappointment and repugnance plastered all over Peter's face as he shook his head.

"People can do something called change, Miguel. Call me whatever you want, but at least I can say I am a man, cause I owe my mistakes. I don't go around screwing people over and then leave them to fend for themselves."

Peter went to the main door and opened it, with nothing else worthy to spill at Miguel, "Get out."

"You're an hypocrite. When you didn't want kids, everything is alright, but when I do I'm a fucking monster?"

He wasn't welcomed comed anymore. And this only added a couple of more weights in his already heavy bag of burdens, igniting his arrogance even further.

"Are you seriously playing the victim right now?" Peter huffed, "Grow a pair, Miguel. You need them. Get out."

Peter was done, all the energy that had been left was sucked out of him and the stranger before his presence was his biggest leech, he awaited for Miguel to leave, which made the exposed man's chest tighten uncomfortably. The friendship had crumbled. There wasn't anything left for him to salvage anyway.

"Fine." He took his jacket with a forceful grab, "Have it your way then." He spat and left the house with a slam that shook the doorframe.

Your eyes raked over the cream colored walls, as your back nested comfortably against the stretcher. Silence reigned with such deliciousness it soothed your underlying nerves.

A month and a half had gone by ever since yiu had that unwilling visit to the hospital, hitting the sixteen weeks of pregnancy. Your meds worked relatively good, and so did the vitamins to the point of getting a bit more strength and color in you.

But today was different. Everything felt different ever since you woke up. The sheets felt divine, the mattress had the right amount of hardness to help with the lumbar area.

The water in the shower felt heavenly on your skin, it was as if the universe was preparing you for a surprise after so many tough times.

Whatever it had planned, you hoped it was good, or at least, digestible enough to not choke you with it.

The doctor, Mrs. Vincent, typed some information in her computer, then stood to whir the machine alive.

"Lift your shirt up, please." Once you did, she smeared a dollop of blue gel on your naked belly, something you barely had the chance to admire, too busy trying to adapt to the emerging changes in your body.

Some clothes had stopped fitting and if they did, they were a chip too tight. The baby bump wasn't enormous like you had thought, but it wasn't small either, after all, Miguel was a big man. It had enough curvature to make your belly poke out from any clothes you had.

I feel like a walking avocado...

MJ was sitting next to you. Although you felt guilty because of the scene Miguel created at her home, she was more than happy to put him in his place, and so her husband. Peter.

Bless him.

You haven't properly known the man but that action alone of standing up for you against his friend of years, made you a bit hopeful.

You weren't looking for a partner, much less a father to the creature growing within, the least you wanted to do was to complicate yourself even more and add another thing in the already long lists of stress you went by.

But in truth, you wished to be there to see his downfall. Not that you were spiteful, but karma surely was a beautiful thing to watch. And the thought of him being this scared and uncomfortable man, the opposite of what you had seen and experienced, made your lips curve into a satisfied smile.

Life had heard your pleas and you were thankful.

Your breath hitched as soon as the machine's accessory made contact with your skin. Cool plastic, like the cold gel all over your skin.

"Let's see", Dr. Vincent mumbled as she adjusted her glasses in her nose bridge. The white light illuminated well the, place, her faint smell of vanilla perfume tickled your nose, it wasn't an offensive perfume, but it made you a little queasy.

It definitely shut down the medicinal smell you had been received with.

Dr. Vincent's gloved hands took the transducer and gently moved it around your belly.

"Does it feels cold?"

You nodded with a nervous smile, "A bit, yeah."

Mayday's giggles echoed behind you, MJ shushed her with some gentle words and her breath hitched when she looked at the screen.

The redhead looked like was experiencing so many things for the first time again, yet she held your hand with excitement thrumming in her skin.

"Look at that, Mama"

The word still made you uncomfortable, but the way the doctor had spilled it felt oddly soothing. The baby was there, etched forever to your womb, growing within your guts each passing day, squirming like a little worm, making it's presence known with a kick.

MJ could only watch as you chuckled. Your features softened the more you stared at the screen. But then your eyes widened at seeing the baby's 3D image.

Resting against one of your womb, comfortably, squeezing it's little hands over and over.

And if honest, curiosity had gotten a vice like grip on you. The way the baby moved and nested within you was equally disturbing and beautiful.

The transducer moved all over as Dr. Vincent looked up the right angle. Breath grew short and caught in your throat at the doctors next words.

"There she is"

MJ gasped, excited and your eyes turned bleary.

A girl. You were having a girl.

"Congrats, Mama." The doctor printed the pictures.

The little bean inside was a girl. There was no longer an it, no longer the creature, or the baby.

Despite the though times you've endured, she was healthy. Perfectly developing, a bit underweight, but healthy.

A myriad of things crossed your mind, panic, admiration, fear and so much confusion. They all swirled inside your jumbled head, fighting over the control of your emotions.

MJ squeezed your hand as soon as she noticed the red-ish hue blooming in your nose and the glossy eyes.

A little sniff was stifled. The doctor smiled at your apparent emotional reaction.

"It's ok to cry. I've gotten too many boys in the week, seeing a girl a was a change of pace. Thank you for that, hun." Dr. Vincent spoke with a sweet voice.

You couldn't help but sob silently. Digesting every second of what had just happened. The nauseas had subsided momentarily, as if sensing you needed your strength for something else.

It didn't help your hormones that Mayday took a hold of your finger, big blue eyes staring at you with pure child like wonder as if demanding your attention. Your lips quivered, and when she cooed your way, you broke.

It's alright.

She'd surely say. MJ held you close, rubbing your back in soothing circles, letting you absorb the news at your own pace.

"You ok?"

You nodded, holding onto her tightly.

"It's a girl, MJ"

Your best friend smiled sympathetically your way, "Indeed. And she's healthy. You've done a fantastic job in keeping her that way, sweetie. I'm proud of you."

Her words did nothing but make you cry harder.

"I'm so scared, MJ"

"I know. But it's alright. I'm here and Mayday too, remember?"

You chuckled in between tears and sighed, while wiping your tears.

"I'm so scared cause... I don't wanna repeat things all over with her."

"Then let's make them differently, ok? I'm here. You're not alone."

You hugged her once more.

"Let's celebrate, yeah?"

"I... I don't know if I should even do that, all things considered."

MJ chided your name gently.

"You deserve it. You've faced so much already, this little girl right here" She placed her hand in your belly, "has stayed healthy and perfect because of you. You've done so much. So let's celebrate that, ok?"

Even if you thought yourself undeserving of such thing, you nodded and followed her.

You wouldn't admit it, but a deep deep part of you bloomed with a little seed of curiosity and excitement.

-----

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#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Of Flowers and Hummingbirds #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara angst

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

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Yandere Male Monster Musume: Feeding The Beasts Pt. III

Last Part

“Good Morning, (Y/n). Are you ready to spend the day together?”

As you expected, Centoreo was so much easier. Waking up in a timely matter with a warm cup of tea or coffee. It was relaxing, being able to rely on someone else. Able to serve little biscuits and cucumber slices without burning the house down. It wasn’t too often that you got such a quiet morning for yourself.

“Thanks, Centoreo, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, (Y/n)! As my Master, it’s a given that on my day; we’ll get to relax together.”

Sitting across from each other on the newly installed tatami mats. The morning’s light shining through the window gently warmed your face. It was quiet between you two. A tad too quiet.

Centoreo was still smiling at you.

Constantly smiling as you began to get nervous.

“Uh so?”

“So what, my Master?”

“....I don’t know…what’ve you been up to?”

He sighed, “Only counting down the hours until my day was here.”

A mirth smile spread across your face as you imagined the sight of Centoreo waiting anxiously by a clock. You took another sip of your drink admiring his stylized room. Coming to realize there’s no clock within the room you turned back to the centaur.

“You don’t have a clock in here.”

“I do not. Back home we centaurs are taught to dictate the time by the sun or better yet to count the hours in a day.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that. That’s pretty hardcore.”

“Thank you, Master!”

“Do you guys also get trained with the sword?”

You missed the way his eyes widened and the way his hands twitched. He tilted his head when he asked his question.

“Excuse me?”

“Like don’t centaurs get swords? I’m sure you couldn’t bring a real one with you but still.”

Centoreo hesitated, “Some do but aren’t swords considered archaic in today's age?”

Shoot.

You mentally kicked yourself. In the anime, Cerea was very upfront about her sword replica. Having it on her waist or drawing it the second she felt necessary. It was a big part of her character. But now that you thought about it Centoreo had no such thing, even with the way you both met; chasing criminals and using the sword just wasn’t a part of it. Supposedly that had happened before you even met up with him. So without your prior knowledge, this line of questioning seemed completely out of left field. Your best chance now was to do damage control.

“Uhm yes, but I thought Centaurs preferred a more traditional type of learning and lifestyle. Like the way you chose a master.”

Centoreo seemed to nod as he accepted your lie coverup. Clapping his hands in confirmation.

“I see, how you might have thought that! But you’re not wrong, we do get a myriad of training with different weapons and I do have one.”

“A replica? Neat!”

Centorea dwelled in your excitement,” Would you like to see my sword?”

At that moment the door to Centoreo’s room slams open and in a flurry of blue feathers and a scaly tail, the two other monster transfer students barged in. Both are standing guard in front of you blocking your sight from the centaur.

“No! There will be no showing any ‘swords’ of yours! Not before mine!”

“Yeah! I want to show my sword too! We’re not going to let you get away with it.”

You could hear his polite chuckles from behind his hand, “Oh so you don’t want (Y/n) to protect themselves?”

“Yes! I mean, wait–”

“Of course not! That’s my job!”

“No you bird brain! He’s talking about some weapon he brought overseas with him.”

“Oh…I already thought your rear-end was enough of a weapon.”

“Pypi!”

The harpy had a nonchalant expression as you scolded him while coughing to hide the snicker that threatened to spread on your face. The lamia immediately began to coil around himself in laughter, making it easy for the red-in-the-face centaur to push most of him out the door.

With a huff, Centoreo shut his door and locked it. When he turned to you he had an angry blush at the smile you were failing to cover.

“I’m sorry, Centoreo…but if you’re still willing to show me I’d love to see.”

A small smile spread on his face as he turned back to you. Guiding you to stand over a specific floorboard he revealed a hidden case that robotically raised out of the ground and showed a myriad of weapons…some of which were not all that traditional.

“And this is my 177 Caliber BB Gun Air Pistol…it’s not incredibly new but it’s close enough to what I’m comfortable with.”

“Oh wow….”

“What’s with that face?”

“It’s just that I didn’t think guns counted as traditional weaponry.”

He laughed, “It’s alright, that’s what we’re here for. To learn about each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

That was a really good point. The anime made a point to use the laws and societal changes to move the plot. It was mostly about how the girls were fitting into the human world, with their love interest somehow being all-knowing about their idiosyncrasies. Granted there were some exceptions but it wasn’t a major theme to learn in-depth about their cultures.

You thought that was cool.

“If you’d like I can teach you how to shoot it.”

“Really?"

"Of course.”

Sooner than you realized it you found yourself in the position of every male protagonist during a pool game. Trying to hyper-focus on the gun you were holding instead of the muscular chest on the back of your head as well as the hands supporting your back. While you could only see the target board you could feel the warmth of his breath as he gave his advice.

“Don’t close your eye, and use the sight to aim. That’s it. You’re doing perfectly my Master.”

This was a lot more than you were expecting.

Crttt Crttt Crttt Crttt

A grating sound broke the moment, thankfully. Bringing both of you to look at the curiously opened door, With only a crack wide enough for furiously yellow-slitted eyes and a fanged set of teeth gritting against each other. Centoreo let out an uncharacteristically long groan before excusing himself out of his room.

“My Master I’ll return shortly, after I speak with…them.”

“But it’s okay I can talk to him–”

“No no dear it’s fine. Just keep practicing, I’ll be just a moment.”

The Japanese-style door slides shut and you can’t help but expect to hear screaming and sounds of a fight. But there was nothing. After a few minutes had passed you began to feel bored with just shooting the air-gun. Finally putting it down you left his room, poking your head out into the hall and finding no one. Searching around you found the monster boys in the living room with 2 of them sleeping peacefully on the couch. Centoreo was standing over them pulling a blanket over their forms, before turning to you.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my master.”

“Ah, it’s okay. I’m surprised they’d fall asleep so easily.”

Centoreo shrugged before perking up with an idea.

“(Y/n). I wanted to ask if maybe we could meal prep together. I was hoping we could be…adventurous with the vegetables this time since we usually cater to them.”

“Sure I don’t mind, though I don’t think they’d be too interested in what we make.”

“I have a feeling they’ll sleep through dinner, I convinced them to eat something hearty before they slept.”

You decided not to question the weird timing.

“Then let’s have fun, shall we?”

“Perfect!”

______________________________________________________________

You both most certainly did. Able to even light a candle or two while you enjoyed the roasted and sauteed veggies you’d both made. As Centoreo predicted they did sleep through dinner, letting you both enjoy a quiet and peaceful evening together. It was hard to be cautious when he was just so sweet. It might have made you soften up a bit when it came to him.

“Centoreo you don’t have to call me master all the time.”

“Then what should call you then?”

“My name or some other nickname. I don’t really care. Milo’s got like a thousand for me.”

“I want you to pick what I’ll call you. Otherwise, I’ll just stick to master. Or your name, both are really important to me.”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“It’s a quality of a good knight. Cheers.”

Even as the night began to close you were almost certain he’d abashedly ask you to snuggle in his bed with him. But he politely offered to let you relax offering to watch your phone and clothes while you headed to the bath. It’s become a bit of an issue with Milo and Pypi taking advantage of your unattended clothes. Even though they were asleep you were hesitant to let him. Cerea was still a prominent member of the harem; it wouldn’t be unheard of that he was as dangerously interested in you as Milo and Pypi. But you might have wanted to take advantage of the unattended bath…without the possible intrusion…an opportunity so hard to pass up.

“Okay but don’t do anything weird. I’ll be out in a bit.”

He smiled graciously as though a halo was meant to appear. “Of course, I’m here to help. Enjoy your bath.”

A refreshing bath later and a final cup of tea. You bid Centoreo goodnight as you shut your metal door.

The schedule worked. The strengthening of your bonds was important to hopefully disassembling and keeping a reign on the alternate versions of the monster girls. This could work if you kept this up, not to mention the later events of the anime. Maybe pushing past their insecurities would be the way to go.

Things were looking up.

___________________________________________________________

Blonde strands of hair cascaded over Centoreo’s face as he glared at the messages from the agent. Looking down at the contact he scrolled through the text history, with scrunched brows. He felt disgusted as he glared at the mail he’d intercepted.

It was an opt-out form.

The letter of allowance is meant to let the host peacefully transfer their guardianship to another.

He was already burning the added note from the agent jovially informing him of his new promotion. There were other disturbing litigations in cursive but Centoreo deemed it all unworthy of thought. Taking only the main points to heart.

“Did you really think you have a chance? While I’m here? Please.”

It was a minor concern, that another tenant was going to arrive. This would be returned to the mailbox. The others could be burned.

“It’s only a matter of time. Bide your time Centoreo. It will all be worth it then.”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere male monster musume #yandere monster musume #yandere centaur #yandere monsters #yandere monster x reader #yandere monster musume x reader #yandere male monster musume x reader #yandere males #yanderes x reader #yandere lamia #yandere monster harem

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maximumkillshot · 3 months

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Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming.

A/N: Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself.

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail.

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.”

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often…

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless…

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.”

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster.

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that.

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection.

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.”

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are.

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…”

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do.

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink.

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke.

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide.

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air…

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.”

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.”

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again.

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you.

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload.

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear.

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.”

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again.

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends.

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell.

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you.

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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watatsumiis · 1 year

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Stealing Clothes!!

Been getting rid of some old clothes today and now I've got Genshin fluff on the brain, so have some silly headcanons below the cut about 'borrowing' clothes from some of my faves!

Characters: Ayato, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Lisa, Pantalone, Pierro, Thoma, Yae Miko, Zhongli

Content: Gender neutral reader, platonic relationships with the characters (though could potentially be read as a little romantic knowing me), Pantalone refers to the reader as 'dear', reader has a shorter/smaller body type than the mentioned characters (simply because I do and that's how I project with my writing - if you'd like an alternate version, feel free to let me know and I'll do what I can :D

Word count: ~1,740

I've always found something really comforting about borrowing clothes from others so this will definitely be a self indulgent drabble about that!

Ayato's coat would be the perfect article to steal - he takes it off during long meetings and when he's training, leaving it neatly folded off to the side, just begging for you to steal it. It's long and the sleeves border on inconvenient, but it's made of a soft, cool material and smells like a mix of Ayato's perfumes and whatever Thoma uses to wash it. He'd be so sweetly surprised when he comes back to retrieve his coat, only for you to be wrapped up in it - his eyebrows would go up in that cutely shocked way as he stares for a few moments - you worry you're about to get scolded, but he quickly breaks into a warm smile and narrows his eyes as he leans down to button it up for you. "If you were getting cold, you could have just let me know, I would've been more than happy to send somebody to fetch you a coat."

Capitano is usually wearing some form of armour - it's like a safe shell for him to hide away in, he's like a big turtle. The rare times he's not, he layers himself up with sweaters and the like. In timelines where he's not just a possessed suit of armour, he rarely takes his helmet off, but when he does is the perfect opportunity to strike. It's heavy and cold, weighing you down awkwardly - it's overall not very pleasant to wear and you can't understand how he manages to see out of this thing, let alone fight in it. He'd furrow his brow as he spots you wearing it for the first time - he has kind of mixed feelings about his helmet, and seeing you willingly put it on, seemingly just for fun, baffles him a little. Secondary to the helmet, his sweaters and coats are always brilliant to steal - super comfy and cozy, made of really nice thick material that's still breathable. He's almost unnaturally stocky so even his tighter-fitting clothing would hang off your frame, making it all the more pleasant. He always seems a little confused, but not upset - if stealing his clothes is what makes you happy, by all means, go ahead.

Childe's scarf is a nice boon - it's so easy just to tug it off while he's walking by you or distracted with something. It's tattered, but super duper soft and cosy. It probably doesn't get washed as often as it should, but it's really nice, especially on cool days. The length means you can wrap it around your neck several times and nuzzle into it! So snug! Childe gets really confused the first few times, incessantly prodding and asking you why you stole it - it's a pretty sentimental item to him, but you two are close, so he supposes you can wear it... for now. Sometimes he may just adjust his scarf and offer one end to you - its length means you can both wear it at the same time as long as you're walking side-by-side! Eventually it'd just become a normal thing between you two, and you might find him borrowing some of your clothes or accessories in exchange.

Dottore has a myriad of interesting accessories and the like to borrow. That weird bird cloak thing is a definite candidate for stealing, it seems cool and fun, his mask too. Sadly he doesn't often take anything off or leave it laying around, even when he's just running around his lab, and if you try to 'steal' anything he sets down, you quickly find it snatched back and either put back on or put away - not because he doesn't want you to have it, he just doesn't seem to realise that's what you're aiming for. Stealing one of his lab coats, however, is easy peasy! Just a simple task of finding one hanging up in a closet somewhere and ta-da! Now you look like a real, bona fide mad scientist! Dottore's double take as he sees you walking around in the coat (so long it's almost dresslike on you) is almost comedic, he frowns behind his mask and tilts his head to the side like a curious bird. "What are you doing that for?" Will be his first question, soon to be followed by about a million more as he tries to figure out exactly what compelled you to wear his clothes specifically. There are also tons of weird/interesting things to fidget with in the pockets.

Lisa's hat is both stylish and comfortable. She occasionally takes it off just to fix up her hair, so that's always the best opportunity to snatch it away and put it on, especially on a nice sunny day, it protects your face and eyes from the sunlight. She probably thinks it's super cute and after the first time, she may take her hat off around you a little more often in hopes of goading you into 'borrowing' it again. She'll make sure it's sitting at just the right angle, cooing and fussing at how sweet you look, how she might just get you a similar hat for your next birthday!

Pantalone wears so much nice clothing, so many fancy expensive accessories and jewelry, it's hard to decide what you want to take! When he's in his own space, he tends to just leave things laying around - someone else can clean them up (unless you get there first of course!). Trying on his jewelry is quite fun, he has some really nice necklaces and earrings and rings (though the rings don't often come off, nor do the gloves). If he catches you, he smiles smugly and asks if you'd like your own replica of whatever it is you've been caught in. His dress shirts are also really, really nice - they're made of the finest fabric and are so extremely comfortable - they smell like expensive perfumes too. If you get caught in one of those, Pantalone gets pretty confused/almost flustered, and may offer to go fetch you a clean one. "Come now, dear, you don't want that one, I wore it for hours yesterday! It's filthy!" It is not filthy in the slightest. All he did yesterday was sit in his office. Though he breaks into a smug little grin as he realises that you specifically chose one he wore because that provides more comfort to you. He might tease you for that later, but for now, he's perfectly content to allow you to keep wearing it.

Pierro probably wears a lot of heavy cloaks and coats. They're absolutely brilliant to steal if you get the chance. If you see an opening, take it quick, Pierro will probably put his coat back on or fold it up and toss it over his arm or give it to a subordinate within moments. He gives you this absolutely baffled look as you snatch up his discarded cloak, exchanging a confused glance with the person he was about to hand it off to as he waits to see what you'll do with it. He gives you this analysing kind of look as you wrap it around your shoulders, snuggling your face into the soft, fur-lined collar. As you blink at him all innocently, he softens, just a little. His shoulders slump in acceptance as he shakes his head good-naturedly. It seems harmless enough.

Thoma is more than happy to share his clothing, he absolutely revels in it. If it gets even slightly chilly, he'll offer his jacket, even if you're already wearing a coat or something. It's super comfy, and he seems to like the fact that he was able to help you out (even if he's now getting cold). His dog tags are also an item of interest, but he never ever seems to take them off, so there's not really an opening there. The headband, however, he takes off every now and then just to mop the sweat off of his brow or fix up his hair - it's comfy and keeps your hair out of your eyes, and his happy laugh when he sees you wearing it is so sweet and genuine that you can't help but grin along with him!

Yae Miko doesn't really wear enough clothing for you to be able to steal (much to your chagrin). However, if you're very lucky, she may take off her headdress while you're around as she combs through her hair. The look she gives you as she sets the accessory down is almost expectant - she knows of your affinity for borrowing wearables from others, if anything this is her testing just how much you like her (she already knows you're going to take it though, of course she does). It's heavy and kind of awkward to put on yourself, and Miko definitely chuckles in amusement as she strides over to you, tapping the top of your head in a non-verbal instruction for you to tilt your head down so she can help you put it on as she makes a teasing comment. "You must truly look up to me to go so far as to want to dress up as me, hm?"

Zhongli. Coat. It's the coat, that's his signature accessory and he rarely ever takes it off. It's of gorgeous make and quality, and if you get the opportunity, you grab it right away and you RUN, this chance may never come again (/j). It's almost silky in texture and super comfy and cozy. There's a few inside pockets that he keeps things in (more along the lines of pens and notes and the like - there's no mora pouch to be found). He's more than happy to allow you to wear his coat (he would've let you borrow it earlier if he'd known how much you'd been eyeing it off), he's a little endeared by the sight, and will help you roll up the sleeves and do up the buttons, all the while going into one of his signature spiels, this time about some old folk tale surrounding energy and memories lingering in hand-me-down clothes. He runs his hands over your shoulders to smooth out the crinkled top of the coat and smiles warmly at you and delights in your quirks that are so sweetly human in nature.

This got a little longer/ramblier than I was anticipating, oops-- as always, feel free to add on or send requests/ideas! I'm not sure how good/accessible this post length is to some people, so if there's any feedback on that please feel free to let me know, I might start splitting it up into individual characters and just do a series instead?

Please don't copy, steal, repost or otherwise plagarise my work!

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catscidr · 3 months

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I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!

NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k

-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite.

-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you.

-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind.

-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.)

-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume).

✧✧✧

If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.)

Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren’t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way.

Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are.

You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps.

There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant.

It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.

“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond.

“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face.

“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding.

Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow.

“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?”

Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky.

“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man.

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead.

“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight.

“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it.

“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something.

“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle.

“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.

Everything clicked into place.

The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head.

His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him.

#i may or may not have butchered the ending bc i DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM /SOBS #i did my best #୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #argenti x reader #argenti x fem reader #argenti x you #argenti x y/n

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jhuzen · 1 year

Note

I hate that tumblr has turned me into a Dottore simp...

But now I can't stop thinking about Dottore with a boyfriend with ADHD. Would he make notes?? I also think it would be extra hilarious if the reader was his lab assistant, like-

Dottore: How the hell did you get this done so quickly??

Reader: I haven't eaten, drank or moved from my desk for the last 12 hours.

-Morax

to worry a physician [m.reader]

morax anon and i are so in sync in the simping game, it’s beautiful. this is why ily. this was hilarious to write LMAO. so here’s another quickie for you. also don’t imitate dottore’s methods, he’s a lil unhinged 😔

𖦹 slightly suggestive in the end (again do not imitate dottore’s methods), a brief use of dottore’s real name

“H-Hey now… let’s not… jump to certain actions that we might soon regret…”

The cold metal was difficult against your back, you felt like a slab of meat hurled on some form of metal chopping board. You tried to get up but your beloved was quick to push you back down.

You winced as the buckles tightened around your body.

“You know how much I despise hypocrites, [Name].”

Suffice to say, it was a miracle that you were the last man standing amongst the myriad of assistants that the infamous second harbinger have been given. He went through all of them like a child digging into sweets ferociously, sometimes even quite viciously tearing them all apart limb from limb.

And yet somehow, you were the odd one out. You somehow managed to even keep up with the asinine nonsense that Dottore prattles on and on, writing down notes that you can barely organize either because your master is already jumping on the next topic, that or simply because there are tendencies of you forgetting to do them.

But even that didn’t trip you up. Because by a shot of luck, the harbinger found himself curling into your presence and starting to appreciate your efforts to a certain degree. He’s merciless, but he’s grown lenient on days where you are completely restless. Dottore may be cruel but he’s not a hypocrite.

Perhaps it is why you’re proudly wearing the title as Dottore’s far more favored being than the rest — his dearest beloved, a promised love that Dottore could never bother to share with others. He was possessive, that’s for sure, and he will keep you away from anything and anyone, even from the many segments of himself. It was hilariously pathetic, it’s like seeing a cat get so terribly territorial — only that it’s the very same cat that can lobotomize you in a split second if you so much as screw up any of his work.

However, it was as if it was innately built in you to catch up with him. It’s why Dottore finds you so interesting and remotely entertaining — the fact that you can barely make an organized effort on certain things, but when it comes to him, you’re all ears and can fulfill just about any task he has given you. Truly, you are his pride and joy and there can be no one in this world that can even refute that in the slightest.

But even Dottore can be extreme in his expression of affection, often toeing the threshold between something wholesome and adorable to something completely insane.

And aren’t you just the klutz, making the poor doctor worry.

You knocked on the door before entering — Dottore already told you to come in regardless, considering that you’re the only he has given his permission to do so. But still, you were his assistant, and even as his boyfriend, you still held a high degree of respect to the man (lest you barge in on him on his bad day and end up becoming a lab rat).

“I got what you asked for.”

Tearing himself away from his work, the doctor turned to you, half of his brain still very much attuned to the poor monstrosity of a cadaver that he just recently hacked away and toyed with, “What did I ask for?”

“Uhh… well, financial expense report for your Balladeer project in Sumeru, some relevant literatures for your current… cadaver endeavors, the new assignments that you got from the Jester that you somehow managed to push on me, the letter from Sumeru’s grand sage that you kept on whining about, and some samples that you asked from some poor unfortunate soul out there.”

Dottore’s eyes narrowed as he retained all the errands you’ve listed. Only for him to turn to you, a look of complete skepticism plastered on his temporarily unmasked face, “…That’s everything that I asked you to do.”

You slowly nodded, “…Yes? Is… something wrong with that?”

“I have made precise calculations of the average arrival of every single thing that I asked from you. A good half of them would have taken you a few weeks at most.”

“…Yes, well aware of that.”

You suddenly felt your poor tie getting yanked down as you came face-to-face with your normally unhinged lover, “Are you slacking on me? Are you cutting corners? You know I have no tolerance for such things.”

“Wait, dear— my tie.”

“I believe that head of yours should be the focus of your concerns, dear.”

At this point, resistance was futile, so you merely gave in with a sigh, carefully placing the basket filled with every single thing that he asked for. Dottore gave a side glance at your submissions, almost taken aback by the mountainous height of the papers you’ve stacked.

Still, while he may be lenient on you on certain things, he knows and expects that you above all are aware of the fact that he highly prioritizes his work. He still has to keep you in line after all if you’re starting to slag on your duties as his assistant.

“This is suspiciously early. It’s only been four days since these assignments. What did you do?”

You laughed a little, “You know I would never jeopardize your work, Zandik. I’d rather be six-feet under than even consider that in the first place.” The way his red eyes glowered, was enough to make you feel small, “…I… swear it…”

“Talk.”

“I only had to cut out a few unnecessary things on my schedule so I can focus on my tasks… like… sleep or… meals. Just… a couple, I promise.”

That wasn’t true. It wasn’t a deliberate cutting out. It’s only that you’ve fixated on your work and that you were always itching to be on the move that you completely lost track of your time and ultimately screwed with your time frame in eating and sleeping. You barely ate and barely slept and your stack of work was the testament of that.

What. Dottore blinked slowly as his brain processed the information you so very generously dropped on him. You, in your efforts of focusing on your tasks… had managed to cut off the only very reason why you’re even alive in the first place. The most necessary part of your day, which now somehow was deemed as otherwise, was cut out of your schedule just to do his work.

Dottore has discreetly admired your dedication as his assistant, and quite frankly that was the reason why you’re still alive and still sleeps in the same bed as he does every single night. But something about the fact that you’ve neglected yourself just for his work was enough to irk the ruthless doctor.

The loosening grip on your tie tightened into a vice and before you knew it, your back was met with the cold hard surface of an empty operating table — it wasn’t even one of those that bend and are cushioned for comfort, it was where he often placed his experiments in.

“Wait, wh—” you quickly swallowed your complaint the moment you saw his eyes glinting dangerously down at you.

“I need to pry your brain open.”

You almost choked on air as you heard your lovers words, you immediately propped yourself up by your elbows, “What do you mean pry my brain open?!”

“I mean cracking that thick skull of yours to see whether or not something went wrong in your wiring,” Dottore’s movements were swift as he climbed up to the table, straddling your hips as he reached for the belt buckles attached at the side of the this cold metal slab.

“H-Hey now… let’s not… jump to certain actions that we might soon regret…”

And now here you are, at a complete stalemate with your beloved boyfriend, with you completely under his mercy. You were tied down and those leather straps were not at all helping you in making your grand escape. Not to mention, you can’t exactly just shove off your boyfriend.

“Not eating or sleeping for days just to complete your work would have been admirable had it not been for the fact that you need it.” Dottore sighed, reaching out a gloved hand to cup your face, squishing your cheeks together, “And here I thought you were slacking on your work… only to find something far worse.” The grip on your cheeks tightened.

You only shot him a pleading look, absolutely trying not to get your brain picked on. Your beloved had finally granted your reddening cheeks some mercy as he let go of it, “It’s not exactly something I can help, y’know? It just comes onto me naturally.”

“You not eating or even barely sleeping for the next four days is natural?” The harbinger was perplexed to say the least. “Would you like me to repeat that again so you can hear just how utterly asinine your words are?”

Huffing, you turned your cheek to the other direction, only to be faced by a dismembered head and immediately looked back at your lover, “I just wanted to make sure you have no hassle in the long run. And like I said, I don’t mind it.”

“I, however, mind the fact that if you keep this up, I might be looking for a potential replacement in just a few days once you kick the bucket.” He huffed back at you, “I hate inconveniences.” His scowl was deep and showed complete frustration towards you and your actions.

And for a quick second, your sleep and nutrient deprived mind had finally stopped to take in as you realized that this was Dottore’s odd way of showing concern. He met your gaze, and with the way your eyes tendered as the realization sank into you, he was far too late.

“Aww, pumpkin… you were worried—?”

“Perish the thought. Absolute lunacy. Whatever. Have it your way — I’ll indulge myself this time.”

“Indulge your… H-Hey! Where are you touching?!”

Dottore’s smile was wicked and devious as his hands traveled somewhere far south, copping a quick feel, “By my initial diagnosis, it seems as though you’ve been experiencing bouts of hyperactivity to the point of neglect at your food intake as well as the much needed rest. Why don’t I sort this out? As your personal physician, I suggest we do something about that before assigning your prescribed medications, no?”

Fret not, he made good on his promise — and fed you before tucking you in bed… but not after feeding him yourself.

#do not fuck while there’s a preserved dismembered head in the next operating table #just a psa #genshin impact x male reader #il dottore x male reader #dottore x male reader #jhuzen’s stupid one shots

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clannfearrunt · 2 years

Note

btw, any update on shiver's japanese personal pronouns now that the full game is out? theres a tweet going around saying she uses both uchi and onore and that it's a feminine+masculine combo, i wanted to double check and see if that is actually the case or if onore is a common pronoun for women to use? people are getting really militant abt this for no reason (unsurprisingly)

I think I've seen that tweet, yeah, and it's wrong.

So to start this off so everyone knows what’s up: I’m a native Japanese speaker, and I’m nonbinary myself. I’m approaching this topic as someone who WOULD LOVE to have canon, intended, Cisn’t rep here.

However, the situation in regards to Shiver is just a misunderstanding of the... complexities and nuance (?) that comes with the myriad of ways people can refer to themself in Japanese, and there’s actually nothing being censored by NoA when they confirmed that she is intended to be female. As of me writing this (September 17th 2022), there has been no content in the Japanese dialogue that ever suggests that Shiver might be intended to be nonbinary or otherwise some flavor of Not Female.

Before I even get into pronouns I gotta point out that her Japanese name is Fuuka, which is a regular ass girl's name in real life (albeit it's also being used as a shark pun). I think that if they were going to put a canon nonbinary character in Splatoon they're going to be more obvious about it.

Anyhow, with regards to The Question: the instance that Shiver uses "onore" is actually in the Rock Paper Scissors splatfest dialogue, right here:

おのれの魂をコブシに宿し、天につき出すその姿... 勝者のポーズゆうたらコレや！

I always have a hard time doing my own translations because my brain gets caught up on a million different things, but one way I'd write this to try to get across how she's using "onore" as is this:

"Placing one’s soul into one’s fist, raising it towards the heavens... That's the pose of victory!"

It's true that "Onore" has seen some historical use as a personal pronoun, but it's an archaic kind of usage in standard Japanese. It's not actually necessarily masculine either. Now, it does still see relatively common usage in various dialects in western regions, but mostly in the second person. I don't think I've ever heard "Onore" being used as a personal pronoun in the way you'd use stuff like "Watashi" or "Boku" (which is the kind of usage it's being confused with in that tweet) these days, even when writing fictional character dialogue.

That's irrelevant here, however, because that's not how it's being used here! It's being used to refer to a generalized "self" for theatrical effect, and not even as a personal identifier really. I'd say in this case a similar comparison in English would be "oneself" - kinda formal, depending on how you use it it might also be including the speaker, but not explicitly Just The Speaker. Does that make sense?

The like... connotations and perceptions surrounding how one chooses to refer to themself in Japanese is really complicated and context dependent and I DO understand how it might be easy to get confused! I can also see how people learning Japanese as a second language might have extra trouble with Shiver's dialogue in general since she speaks in the Kyoto dialect instead of standard Japanese. Shit's hard! Anyways unfortunately this has been once again a misunderstanding sorry everyone. We can do other things in headcanons, but we can't be going after people or the translators for this.

...

On the subject of personal pronouns though FRYE uses "washi" which has been fun because that is not something typically used by young people! In dialects where it's still common for young people to use "Washi", it tends to be more commonly used by guys, but the more common association is with Old People. Frye in general just speaks like a stereotypical Old Person though I love her she's great. Where's the fucking Frye crowd at

#asks #theyrezi #splatoon 3 #splatoon #Shiver splatoon #Deep Cut #i had an hour long discussion with my mom mulling over how complicated and nuanced this shit is and how we kinda take it for granted #bc we have an intuitive understanding of The Connotations... but how do you explain that to people outside of our culture and language?#shit's hard! i aint a linguist! i don't have all the academic tools to ''properly'' dissect and communicate this shit #i keep trying to backpedal to downplay the nuance of The Pronouns Shit but every time i try 2 actually explain it i Remember #Squid 2 the evolution of the squid #dedcourse 2

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gravehags · 10 days

Text

dance of the seven veils

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader (Ghoul Bicycle Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Tags: ghoul rut, possessiveness, delirious fucking, ghoul knots, cirrus being a real one, aether beating that pussy up, biblical reference

Words: 1,972

Summary: The way you're moving your hips right now before him he'd do anything for you.

a/n: I WROTE AN ACTUAL FIC LMAO YAYYY i wasn't expecting to revisit the ghoul bicycle series in full fic form but what do you know. will probably do some of the other ghouls/ghoulettes rut/heat fics as well. because why not.

~~~

You look delicious.

Cumulus has you at the center of the living room, barefoot on the rug while he, Cirrus, and Rain watch. Your shirt is off and the bralette you wear is practically see-through. There’s a flush on your cheeks as you grin at the ghoulette before you who places her hands on your hips.

“You have to isolate your hip movements. Don’t just shake your ass, become aware of your abdominal muscles and how they shift.”

“I’m trying, ‘Lus! This is my first time belly dancing, give me a break!”

Cumulus gives you a faux-stern stare before matter-of-factly grabbing the waistline of your sweatpants and yanking them down to expose your belly. You burst out laughing and Aether’s brain is flooded with images of you in a myriad of positions, dripping and aching for him and him alone. Frustrated, he rubs at the base of his horns as his pants grow tight and Cirrus looks over at him with some concern.

“You good, Aeth?” she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, and he’s thankful for her discretion.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, hoarse, “it’s uh…that time of the month.”

Cirrus’ eyes dart back and forth between him and you gyrating with your hands above your head, head thrown back in delight. A regular Salome. A bead of sweat slides down Aether’s temple and she nods.

“It’s only gonna get worse if you don’t do something about it, hon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“She’s going to find out about it sooner or later. And out of all of us, you’re probably the best one to walk her through it.”

Aether scoffs and wipes his forehead.

“Don’t know about that, Cir. You have no idea the things I want to do to her right now.”

“Don’t I?” Cirrus smiles wanly, “I know what you’re like. And I also know she would go crazy for it.”

Aether grunts in response, eyes trained on the sway of your hips and the roll of your belly. Across the room, Rain says something that makes you double over laughing and he seethes with jealousy. When you straighten back up and make eye contact with him, smiling adoringly, he snaps. In an instant he’s up and striding the short distance to you and in one swift movement he bends down and slings you over his shoulder. You let out an undignified squawk as he storms from the room, the eyes of his packmates on his back.

Cirrus would explain.

He can hear you asking him questions but all he can focus on right now is getting you to your bed. When he finally reaches your room and opens the door it’s like a dam breaks within him. With a heavy thump he tosses you on the bed where you look up at him dazed and...was that arousal in your eyes?

“What the fuck was that about, Aether?”

You’re breathless, chest heaving. He must have one hell of a look on his face because you start scooting up the bed, creating some distance between the two of you. Before you can get too far though, he’s got you by both ankles and unceremoniously yanking your body back down towards him. You don’t squirm or fight to get away but instead peer at him with curiosity.

“Hey. Hey, Aeth. What’s going on?”

He squeezes his eyes shut hard enough that when he reopens them he sees stars.

“Has…has anyone else told you about ghoul ruts or heats?”

“Ruts? Heats? Like…like an animal?”

He’s definitely reading arousal in your tone now and his cock twitches in his too-tight pants.

“Yeah. Like an animal. Well my rut has started and if I’m entirely honest with you, all I want to do is stuff every hole you have with me and fuck you until it takes. You understand?”

Your jaw hangs open and your breath comes in uneven pants as you stare up at him before nodding.

“And…and all the others go through this?”

He nods as his hands slide up your calves and over your hips to reach the waistband of your pants.

“Do you want it?” The question is simple but he thinks if you say anything other than “yes” he’s going to lose his mind.

“Aether…unholy fuck yes, I want it. Come on honey, fuck me til I’m dripping.”

If his laughter in response is slightly crazed, you say nothing but grin back at him, lifting your hips so he can more easily undress you. You sit up and with a bit of finagling, manage to remove your bralette and fling it across the room. When he sees you fully nude, not for the first time but in a different light, his tail thrashes behind him and he drops to his knees.

“Thought–ah!” you gasp as he licks a stripe up the inside of your right thigh, “thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he smiles, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders, “but I need you nice and ready for me, angel. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Your little noise of intrigue is cut off when he spreads your cunt with his thumbs and delves his tongue inside you. Normally he would revel in this, take his time, but if he doesn’t find some relief soon he’s going to go mad.

“Aeth!” you breathe as his nose nudges your clit, “Fuck, honey that’s it.”

Steadily his tongue fucks into you, pausing only for a moment to lap and suck at your clit. When your hand flies to the base of his horns he lets out a growl and his hips rut upwards. He pulls away with a lewd noise and replaces his tongue with two of his thick fingers.

“Look at you taking me so well already, beautiful,” Aether pants as he pistons and scissors his fingers inside your cunt, “Just wait til you see what I have in store for you.”

Your laugh is delirious as he viciously brings you to your peak, knees clenching on either side of his head and your hole spasming around his digits.

“Fuck, Aeth, fuck,” you moan, hips bucking against his hand, “Need you. Need your cock, please.”

In an instant he pulls away and pulls his shirt off over his head. His pants follow and when your eyes land on the reddened, swollen head of his cock as it bobs heavy in front of him, you let out a needy whine. The sound makes his head spin and without a second thought he’s upon you, mouth seeking yours. You continue to make sweet little noises into his kiss, sucking the taste of yourself off his tongue, as his hips jerk against you. He wants to delight in sliding his tongue against your hardened nipples and peppering the tender flesh of your breasts in dark bruises but more than anything he needs to be inside you. With a growl he pulls himself away from you, your lips chasing his and he leans back on his haunches, hand sliding along his cock. When he takes the head and runs it through your slit he almost keels over, the feel of your hot slick enough to end him.

“Well go on, Aeth,” you grin coyly at him, head cocked, “Fuck me until it takes. Just like you said.”

There’s a snarl on his lips as he spreads you open and with one swift movement, slams inside of you. Your back arches into him and he sets a rough pace as he grabs your ankles and folds your legs up as far as your body allows him. The new angle makes you cry out, chanting his name as he fucks desperately into you. He’s always gone a little mad when he’s inside you but when it’s like this? When you so eagerly accept and want him when he’s at his most feral? It makes his head spin.

“So beautiful like this,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, “so perfect and so beautiful and all mine.”

You must enjoy the possessive nature of his words from the way your cunt clenches around him and he grins down at you with all his teeth. Your lips attempt to form words but the way he fucks the breath from your lungs makes speech almost impossible. Almost.

“Aeth!” you hoarsely cry out, “Yours. I’m yours. Make me yours.”

Your words, the way your body yields to his touch, the way you’re gazing up at him with your pupils blown drives his hips forward. He knows he has to be bruising you, will take care of you later but for now his rut is too powerful to stop. He can feel it coming, feel it building at the base of his spine and sliding through his stomach. He tries to warn you but doesn’t quite know how, not with the way you continue to squeeze around him.

“L-love,” he stutters, “gonna k-knot you. Gonna–fuck–”

In an instant he feels the base of himself swell and watches your eyes go wide before they roll back in your head. His thrusts become tight and shallow watching you stretch to accommodate him.

“Aether! Fuck!” you finally manage to cry out, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He wants to laugh and tell you he quite literally can’t but the way your walls clench and spasm around him when you cum drive him over the edge. With a roar he cums, rope after rope, inside you, filling you up as he presses your bent legs further up. His brain goes fuzzy after a while as he finally relents and allows you to relax, his body collapsing against yours. Your breath is shaky in his ear as you stroke his sweat-drenched back.

“Got you. I got you, honey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “You did so well.”

He must be coming back to Earth because that makes him snort.

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

You smile.

“If you like,” you say before placing a sweet but quick kiss on his lips, “I think you might be crushing my chest cavity, though.”

“Sorry,” he groans, shifting your bodies so they could lie side by side, “The uh. Knot takes a little bit to go down.”

You make a little noise of interest as you run your fingers through his damp chest hair.

“Satan, we’re lucky to have you. How did we get so lucky?”

That makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

“You’re lucky to have me, right. As if I’m not the one with ten adoring lovers who care deeply about me and my well-being. You want to talk about luck? There’s never been anyone luckier on the planet, Aether. I would choose all of you over everything and everyone.”

His heart aches as you lean in and brush noses with him before pressing your forehead to his and holding it there. For a sweet moment the two of you are content to simply listen to one another’s breathing when Aether shifts his hips and his cock slides from you.

“Unholy fuck,” you breathe, pulling away from him and rolling back onto your back. When you spread your legs, a gush of his seed spills from you and drips on the bed sheets. The sight of your reddened cunt slick with his cum makes a growl bubble from deep in his chest and you look over to him.

“That’s fucking hot,” you murmur.

“My cum or the noise I just made?”

“Both, love, but let me recover for a moment, yeah? And then you can bring me ice packs for the next week.”

“Darling, let me have you again and I’ll bring you the head of John the Baptist.”

And he does have you again.

Three more times that evening.

No saintly head necessary, his Salome graciously deems.

#ghoul bicycle series #aether x f!reader #aether x female reader #aether ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

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cerastes · 4 months

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Hey how come you making flippant comments in regards to your own self-improvement fetish is so enlightening in regards to mental health things is this the whole 'professional' thing at work.

I would like to think so! When we think of "psychology", most people might have a very Freudian image of it: A therapist solemnly but very comprehensively taking notes as a patient lies on a couch and spills their guts, only interjecting once or twice in the hour-long session and then charging you. Psychoanalysis, the Freudian technique, I don't think it's useless, but it's definitely just one of a myriad of techniques and methods with which to carry out therapy (and one I myself am trained in and do not like). I myself am more of systems theory of psychology kind of guy (Humberto Maturana, Ludwig von Bertalanffy, Gregory Bateson, among others), and systems has a very input-output sort of view (if you want to learn more, you can also look up second order cybernetics and radical constructivism).

Where I am going with all of this is that if it may seem like I'm making flippant comments, then that means I've synthetized my own self-care mind palace to such a degree that it has simply become part of my discourse, my lingo, my poise, if you will, but that in itself took a lot of introspective work in a way that was tangible to me, or in other words, in a way that my brain accepted it. Ultimately, it's the role of the psychologist to lead one to something rather than to reveal any sort of secret to wellness. Using myself as an example, as someone that had suicidal depression at one point, being told to "think positively" didn't do a damn thing, because if it was that easy, then depression wouldn't exist. Instead, I more or less had to trick my own brain into giving it reasons as to why it should think positively, because it makes sense to do so, and in the same vein, I had to give it reasons as to why thinking negatively was dumb. Because that sort of logic works with me. So it's less "hey, think nice things :)" and more "okay but does it have to be like this? Does everyone else have this crushing sadness as their normal as well? I don't think so, so maybe what I'm feeling isn't normal. Why am I thinking that way? What do they have that I don't? Oh, thing A and thing B, yeah, makes sense, and do I want these things? Mmm thing A doesn't really matter to me, but thing B, I'm loathe to admit, is something I desire, how about I work towards having thing B for now as a goal and then see if that is good enough or at least improves my mental state? Are things really as hopeless as I think they are and am I enlightened by my grim outlook? Probably not, so why am I hopeless and why are they not? There's something I don't have or don't know, let's see what that is, and put these shit thoughts on hold until I can ascertain these things". This is a summarized version, of course, but you know what I mean.

But where I'm going with this (again) is that once you grab onto your own internal logic (which is where the introspective work leads to!) and know what makes you click and how your own metrics and parameters of motivation work, it becomes much much easier to have a healthy mental state and keep it healthy. This, in my opinion, should be the long term objective of any good therapy: To at least start your user (I don't really use the term "patient") on this road. I'm making it sounds all sunshine and rainbows, but introspective work worth having does entail having to look at the uglier parts of yourself and acknowledging them, hence why not a lot of people see it through. It takes commitment and guts because you very much do reach a point where you need to look at these things that are awful and be like "yes, this, too, is me" before you can start going into how to turn these into advantageous things instead.

Likewise, the therapy I do tends to have this as goal: Let's work this shit together so we can organize it in a way that's easier to handle for starters, and then you can have a very good grip on the reins of what makes you feel good and what makes you feel bad, and so can easily dispel the brain fog by simply consulting your inner blueprint. Each user is a whole different journey, and it's part of what makes psychology such a beautiful field.

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moodymisty · 5 months

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The fungus. The fungus! THE FUNGUS! THE F- but in all honesty, your honor, my wubby little blorbo shit man is so cute and those headcanons are on point.

Now, indulge my brain rot for just a second. Just imagine the other primarchs finding out that Mortarion had not only found a partner, but that they’re completely normal-looking and super kind. They’re pleasant smelling, friendly, talkative; everything Mortarion is not. I also like to imagine his partner talking about him like he’s a stray cat they picked up off the side of the road. Like,

“Yeah, he has his moments. Sometimes he can be a little cranky but I still love him. Sure he tried to kill Gulliman, but that’s just how he shows love!”

“Oh no I can’t wash that sweater. If I do Mortarion will freak out! He sleeps on that thing every night. Now, I have to go. If I’m not in his chambers at exactly 5 pm he’ll get lonely and cry so hard he’ll throw up”

Jesus christ that last sentence nearly made me piss myself laughing. Mortarion in a nutshell. The man is incapable of expressing himself in any productive way, so to have a beloved that is like, normal? Insane. No one thought Mortarion had any pull. Hell, they thought he had negative pull.

Also. I'm sorry but I got inspired by this so I hope you don't mind a drabble. No warnings apart from it being very rough and I only revised it once. 'She' is used once, but I can change it if you want.

Sanguinius walks into the massive room and makes a line right for the desk, of which Guilliman sits behind. He takes one glance upward at him, and notices the way he seems to be holding back a smile, and his wings are almost twitching. His eyes return to the parchment underneath his pen.

"I am busy. It better be quite important." Sanguinius tilts his head slightly to the side.

"You are always busy. But I can assure you that you'll want to hear this."

Eyes cast upwards at him, Guilliman looks at him with a furrowed brow. It would be quite odd for urgent news to be delivered with such a positive disposition, so he wonders what Sanguinius could possibly need to say. He waits on less so bated breath, and more so slight irritation.

"Mortarion has returned to Terra," Guilliman glances upward, and for a second Sanguinius sees the unfettered rage of a man on his wits end flash through his eyes.

"That is not urgent news." The angel has more words on his lips as he smirks and gently waves his hand. "I know, but let me finish." Guilliman puts the tip of his pen to parchment and continues writing while he waits for him to finish.

"And he has brought his lover with him."

The Primarch of the Ultramarines almost has to ask Sanguinius to repeat himself, even though he knows he hear it correctly. He pulls the tip of his pen lest it begin to drop too much ink, setting it into the well and looking up fully.

"Mortarion is courting someone?"

He would've been less surprised if it had been Ferrus.

Sanguinius' smile cracks through his withheld expression just a bit more. Guilliman wonders if he fought for the honor of surprising him with this news.

"Believe me, we were just as surprised. But she's here in the palace now. I believe Fulgrim got to her first. He seemed completely distraught afterwards, so I wanted to go take a look for myself."

Guilliman hears in his tone that there's an invitation to join him on his lips. And while Roboute knows that he has work to do, as he always does, he can't say this isn't a tempting offer. After only a moment of internal deliberation he sighs, and rises from his seat.

"Very well. I can't say I'm not curious."

The two of them walk side by side down the myriad of halls that only make up a tiny section of the palace, Sanguinius leading. He seems to have an idea as to where Mortarion and his supposed lover is. Guilliman doesn't quite know why he hesitates to fully believe this is even true. He doubts Sanguinius would ever lie but,

Mortarion?

While it takes a bit of searching, eventually the Primarch of the Death Guard is found, and his lover with him. Him and Sanguinius stay back, intent to watch the scene for a moment. And even though the two of them are silent, if anyone had been close they might've been able to hear the two of them thinking.

You seem, normal.

Guilliman thinks you wouldn't look out of place in a shopping district on Macragge. You wear the regalia of your Primarch's legion as decoration on your clothing, fabric a pallid purple, but nothing else seems out of place.

But unlike Mortarion who stands behind you sulking, you are all smiles- speaking to Vulkan with what seems like pleasant conversation. Where Mortarion seems unkempt, cast in a sour, near depressive moue, you seem nothing but clean and polite. Your smile is warm, as you compliment Vulkan about something as simple as the unique embellishments of his legion's armor, and Vulkan takes it with a signature humbleness. Though if he had to guess, Vulkan was also quite surprised that Mortarion's choice in lover has proven so, unlike him.

Guilliman watches, and when he looks to his right, he sees Sanguinius watching his expression closely. Guilliman looks back to the scene ahead of him.

"Hmm. Odd."

#Great now I need to think of a fitting title for Mortarion's s/o that isn't just queen of the stank #mortarion simp club meetup #mortarion x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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thatfreshi · 7 months

Text

"Yeah, Besties" (Uni AU P. 11)

tw - slight mention of abuse

You and Astarion proceed to spend all your free time together, which isn't much for him, but it's nice in between the stresses of life. You go from barely being friends to almost inseparable, studying in his dorm and talking about nonsense. There's plenty of times when he has to disappear for miscellaneous modeling things, which he still doesn't really talk about, but you don't mind.

It's been about a week and a half since Astarion got back from LA, and things have been getting much better for everyone. Academics are picking up, sports are starting, and your little group of, 'friends,' has started to somewhat get along, which is a big relief. Since the seven of you are still working on that damned public speaking project, you meet up on Saturday to start discussing the presentation, but of course, you don't actually end up doing that. Besides, who goes to Starbucks and actually ends up studying?

"Ugh! Tav, I told you it was going to be far too busy here on a Saturday."

You roll your eyes at your white-haired friend.

"We're not even staying here, we're going over to the park across the street. Cool it broody."

He mocks you and you elbow him in the arm, making sure to be gentle about it in case there's some other 'scrape' he hasn't told you about.

"Can the two of you stop flirting and decide what you want please?"

Lae'zel is impatient, especially when it comes to caffeine.

"This? This is not flirting, we're like besties."

You throw Astarion a smile, and he responds, almost reluctantly.

"Yeah, besties."

You hear Gale and Shadowheart giggle to themselves somewhere in the back of the group, but you're not sure what about. Probably some bullshit they always find funny that no one else seems to understand. After some group discussion, Karlach decides to pay for everyone's drink, because oddly enough she's never been in a Starbucks.

"I don't know, I've just never gone! Drink a lot of protein smoothies, ya know? Coffee isn't really my thing."

Shadow of course is wrapped around Karlach's buff arm, and here's where someone would say that thing about sapphics and move-in vans on second dates. Eventually you all make up your minds. You get an iced coffee, something basic for your still-waking brain. The rest of the orders go as follows:

Astarion gets a caffè mocha, but asks for double the espresso, which you soon find out is six shots. You know from texting him this morning that he didn't sleep last night, and you're honestly not sure how he lives off of the amount of caffeine he drinks.

Karlach gets the dragon drink because she thinks it sounds cool.

Shadowheart orders a pink drink, blended, and proceeds to deal with intense teasing from Wyll about her edgy exterior. She yells at him about how she just like strawberries, and the aesthetic of her drink has nothing to do with how cool and mysterious she is.

Wyll then orders a chai latte, admitting he's never actually had coffee before after he was scared off of it as a kid.

Gale, like the classic man he is, goes with the caramel macchiato, but makes sure to ask three times that they're using almond milk, making a big deal about how his stomach will not handle it well if it's actual milk.

Lae'zel gets straight-up black coffee, hot. That's it. She doesn't add sugar, creamer, not even a little flavor, just hot black coffee.

So the baristas get to work on your myriad of drinks. You go to ask Astarion something, but quickly get interrupted by a stranger tapping you on the shoulder.

"Sorry, I just wanted to say, you are absolutely gorgeous. Mother Nature blessed us the day she made you."

You turn around to see a rather tall and built man. Your cheeks can't help but fill with red at the sincerity of the compliment you've just been given.

"Thank you! See, you guys really should worship my looks more."

"I know this might be strange, but I'd be honored to take you out sometime. Here's my number, you don't have to text me if you don't want to, but I just couldn't pass up this opportunity. Oh, and I'm Halsin, a pleasure to meet you."

This Halsin character soon walks off, leaving you with a receipt he's written his number on.

"Wow, and I thought I was a gentleman."

Wyll is clearly shocked by the sudden turn of events.

"Seriously, Tav you have to text him! What a heart throb."

Shadow eggs on the flirting that just occurred.

"I don't know, should I? What if he's like a weirdo."

"Oh c'mon, he seems so sweet! You'd be stupid to not at least give him a chance."

There are murmurs of support for Karlach's statement. Soon, your drinks are done, and your ragtag group starts to leave the building.

"I mean, he was maybe a little forward. And the line about 'Mother Nature?' Did he not have anything better?"

"We get it Astarion, you think you're a master flirt. Not everyone is as lusty as you are."

You don't see it, but Astarion proceeds to give Gale a solid middle finger, and Gale matches him. As much as everyone's getting better at getting along, those two still have some trouble.

"I don't know, maybe I should text him. I mean what's the harm?"

"I don't know, the possibility that he could be a serial killer freak?"

"Astarion, he's not a serial killer. There is literally no way the guy that came up to us is capable of murdering anything."

Shadowheart takes a drink of her pulverized fruity beverage in confidence.

"Alright fine, but if darling Tav gets murdered, don't blame me!"

"I mean c'mon Astarion, you hate every guy I'm interested in on the apps anyways."

It's true, because you've sat there and scrolled through Hinge with him far too many times, and everyone you've ever come across has received negative remarks from your pale friend.

"Because they're all weird! Besides, I find making a real-life connection is much more enticing."

"Says the guy who has never been in an actual relationship."

"You shut it Gale! This mystery woman is the first person you've ever been with, so you have no room to talk. Besides, I'm sure I've bed more people than you've ever laid eyes upon."

"Woah, cat fight. Calm down, you might scratch an eye out."

Wyll's comment earns a few laughs. The group eventually gets to the park across the street, finding a large shady tree to sit under. Astarion makes some off-hand comment about how his pants are too nice to be grass-stained, but he ends up joining the rest of you anyway.

"Okay Tav, so how do we craft this message to the hot nature guy? Because honestly I'd climb him like a tree if I could, you're lucky."

Shadowheart scooches next to you in order to brainstorm.

"Oh, so we're still on this? Great. I'll be over here, not thinking about the wannabe nudist."

"Come on Astarion, you have to help too! Shadow's too thirsty. I need a voice of reason."

He rolls his eyes, only obliging because you're the one asking.

"Fine. We will craft a text to this Halsin fellow."

While the others check their student email and actually do productive things, the three of you sit over your phone, wondering what to send to this hunky stranger. After Shadow and Astarion argue quite a bit, you settle on a sweet but intrigued message.

"Are you guys sure I should hit send? I don't know, what if he was kidding? Or it's like some prank?"

"Tav, if it was a prank I'll kill him."

Shadowheart agrees.

"I second Astarion, I would also kill him."

"Okay, fine! I'm doing it!"

You're a little giddy, excited that a stranger so kindly hit on you. It could've been creepy and weird, but he was so nice. With a slight tap, you've sent the message, and your phone emits a little whoosh noise. Little did you know, Gale had started texting Astarion while listening to your conversation.

~~~

gale_eats_paint: you should tell them

wannabe.vamp: tell them what ??

gale_eats_paint: that you like them. i can see you gritting your teeth all the way from here

wannabe.vamp: fuck off gale, you don't know what you're talking about

gale_eats_paint: alright, if you insist on being secretive that's fine. but i wouldn't wait around too long. also your @ is lame. what are you, a middle schooler?

wannabe.vamp: i'm literally albino AND anemic it could not make more sense

~~~

"Oh god, he responded!"

Astarion perks up from his phone, giving Gale a look across the shaded patch of grass. The artist simply gives him a concerned, yet discreet eyebrow raise. You read out the message, which asks if you'd be free this evening for a botanical garden tour.

"Aw, that's adorable! Tell him you're free!"

Karlach is now scrunched up next to you and Shadow.

"Thanks guys, this is so exciting! And what a cute first date idea, bringing someone to a garden? Oh, and Astarion, you have to help me plan my outfit, pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

He rolls his eyes.

"Sure, since you asked so annoyingly, I will."

You go to wrap him in a grateful hug, which catches him severely off-guard.

"Thank you! You're the best Aster."

He almost questions the nickname, but decides to keep his mouth shut, because if this is the type of affection you're going to show him, he'll take it, no matter how small. Gale makes eye contact with him again though while you have him trapped in your warm embrace. While the two aren't particularly friendly, there's a sadness in Gale's eyes, knowing that Astarion won't speak up, no matter how much he wants to. Either way, he'll help you get ready for that date, even if it crushes him when you leave for the evening.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #fluff #x reader #shadowheart #karlach #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #halsin #freshiau

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