#and she acted like it was a surprise when i told her that i was litterally alone 90% of my times in paris before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tarjapearce · 2 days

Text

Mi Dulce Cereza

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?

WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread

Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.

A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3

"Ma!"

The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.

Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.

"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.

"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)

"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)

Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.

The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.

Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.

Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.

Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.

"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.

A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.

And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.

"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.

His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.

"For you to leave my property."

"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"

A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.

"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."

"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.

"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."

"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)

William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.

He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.

The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.

And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.

"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."

Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.

"Ma?"

Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face

"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"

"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process

"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.

"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.

Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.

"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)

The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.

Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.

William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.

Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.

"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."

"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"

"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."

William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.

The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.

For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.

It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.

That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.

Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.

So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.

Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.

But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.

He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.

William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.

But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.

----

Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.

Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.

Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.

But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.

William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.

The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.

He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.

He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.

Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.

Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.

Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.

William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.

A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.

Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.

If people only knew the scum he is.

If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.

The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.

Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.

He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.

A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.

Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.

Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.

But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.

In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.

-----

He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.

Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.

Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.

Dana.

"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"

The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.

"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."

Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.

Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."

It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.

"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"

Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.

"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."

"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"

Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.

In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.

Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.

"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."

The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.

Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.

"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."

More than they already did? Impossible.

Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."

"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)

He mumbled while stepping into the shower.

"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.

He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.

----

Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.

The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.

A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.

He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.

Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.

The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.

His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.

He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.

A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.

The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.

"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."

Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.

"Thanks."

Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.

Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.

A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.

Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.

Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.

Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.

Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.

But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.

With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.

But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.

A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.

His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.

"Come in."

He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.

It was as if time had barely passed over him.

It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.

This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.

The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.

"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.

"Sir."

William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.

"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."

"Good things I hope."

"Now. The property you'll be in charge is in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"

"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"

"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."

"Fortnight is alright."

William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.

"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.

"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."

Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.

Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.

Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.

Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.

Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.

Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.

The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.

William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.

"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."

Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.

Miguel chuckled and nodded

"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"

"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."

"I see."

As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.

"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."

With a final and firm handshake, William left.

Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.

Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.

The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.

He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.

Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.

One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.

And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.

---

He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.

Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.

A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.

What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.

Had a worker slipped in?

Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.

"Ma'am?"

----

Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.

Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.

Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.

But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.

The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.

Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.

"Ma'am?"

The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.

"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.

His brow quirked as his face remained serene.

"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."

You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.

If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.

A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.

"I got installed today, it's ok."

He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.

He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.

You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.

You didn't look past twenties.

"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.

Such a polite girl.

"Yes?"

"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"

He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.

"Of course."

"Sorry for the floor."

Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.

"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"

Papa

Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.

He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.

He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.

And what a good job they've made.

"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."

Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.

"Thanks. Love you!"

You hung up the call and smiled his way.

"Thank you. Mr...?"

"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."

You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.

"Right. So you're the new trainer?"

His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.

Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.

"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."

"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."

"My pleasure to help, señorita."

His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.

"Come. Let's get you warmed up."

You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.

You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.

"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.

He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.

A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.

"Mi niña! Let's go!"

The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.

"Thanks for the help, Miguel."

"Anytime, señorita."

He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.

"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.

"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.

You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.

Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.

Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.

"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."

"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."

He sighed with a dreamy heave.

"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."

"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."

"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."

With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.

He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.

He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.

His revenge was finally in motion.

----

Taglist:

@maiyart @byjessicalotufo @kate-ohara @fussyhedgehog @spider-mar2004 @fayeofthenightingale @hualianlover800 @tatatida @simp4-fictional-men @plusultrayokai @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @lazy-idate @peachey-pie @ryk-mt @gennirose @teothemilfhunter

@monarchberrysblog @tae21xoxo @1sun-vixen @amelialysm @ir-the-cat @oblivion777 @casarettoa @arleydyn7 @loliknya @maxad99

@choppednerdtriumph @oharasfilipinawife @mikiyamarie @omgomgomgaaa @lucyh237 @beabfleab @millliko @akrassia020 @teaiiv @mi4ulayy @ykitsurgurl01 @namjoons-baby @unadulteratedeaglecollection @strawberryjuice9 @vkumi

@aphinthestars @tyuiofo @sleepyyjaz @notavault @stabygabby @happykoalapoetry @g1icino11a @yougavemeyourheartyouknow

@famouscattale @websinthecity @enananawoah @cigarettes-and-musique @spiderpapi2099 @emelie-s-h @happyowlsoul

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #ranchero! miguel #mi dulce cereza

222 notes · View notes

exhaslo · 1 day

Note

Hi again! I hope you’re doing well. I see you’re open for requests, and I have an interesting and NSFW one.

So we already have fics involving Miguel having a heat/mating cycle due to his spliced DNA with Spider DNA. How about Spider![Reader] [FEMALE] being in heat this time and she avoids everyone in the Spider Society, especially Miguel, her own “secret boyfriend”. She’s usually friendly with everyone, but recently acting like she was “sick” and doesn’t want anyone near her. However, Miguel caught wind of this and he brought her back to his lair/office (as a caring boyfriend worried about his girlfriend), [Reader] begs him to “help” with her situation.

Then things got heated and he helped relieve [Reader]’s libido.

- @club-danger-zone

Hehehehehehehe

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, begging, creampie, fingering

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

What did you do so wrong in your life to deserve this horrible side effect of being half-Spider?

Why did such a thing have to happen to you?

This felt like a cruel punishment given only to you. The hero of this damn city. Someone who fought for those who couldn't; someone who fought for good; why did you have to be cursed with something so tempting and primal?

You suffered from heat, or a mating cycle as some would call it. Every now and then you would suddenly have to urge to have sex and want to get pregnant. It wasn't something you could control, nor did you enjoy suffering from it.

You had tolerated it for the most part. Save up enough money so you could call out of work during this time. Had a variety of different toys to pleasure yourself with until the pain goes away.

But this time, it was different.

You weren't sure why, but honestly you could make a few guesses. There were only a few small changes in your life since the last heat cycle. Between your personal issues and the Spider Society, your main guess for the new pain was...

Your boyfriend.

You've never been in a relationship before until now. Your heat was going crazy probably because you had a source to get pregnant now. The only issue is that you and Miguel hadn't gotten that far yet. The two of you were in a secret relationship.

Miguel was the leader of the Spider Society. It was frowned upon to be dating between dimensions. Miguel always said that you were a special case, which was why he broke that rule. You loved Miguel and were happy with him...but you never told him this secret.

Groaning softly, you laid against your bed, your fingers working furiously. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was reliving you. Your heat wasn't going away.

Recalling how Miguel's futurist world had cures for nearly everything, you felt a light bulb appear. Perhaps, there was something to calm down your heat? Hurrying to your suit, you whimpered as you used your watch to transport to the Spider Society.

-------

Miguel had just returned from a mission, grunting loudly as he dragged the anomaly behind him. Miguel was tired and frustrated. As he walked around the Spider Society, Miguel couldn't help but hear some of the others talk about you acting strange.

Curious about what was going on with his girlfriend, Miguel hurried to find you. He threw the anomaly in the cell and had Lyla search for your watch location. He was surprised to find you in one of the bathrooms.

Making his way over, Miguel made sure to enter when no one else was inside. He locked the door and approached the stall you were in.

"(Y/n), are you alright, mi amor? (My love)" Miguel asked softly as you cried.

"N-No, I'm in pain, Miggy," You sobbed. Miguel quickly opened the door, bending down to your level,

"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping your tears away.

Miguel watched as your breathing shuddered the moment he touched you. The look in your eyes were lustful as you merely whimpered, tugging against his arm. You were acting strange. Miguel went to pick you up, causing you to whine and wrap your arms around his neck.

"Migs...P-Please help me. I need...I need you." Your voice was so desperate and sweet.

"(Y/n), is this a side effect of your spider biting you in your world?" Miguel asked softly as he quickly took you to his lair.

"Mhm, y-yes. I...I'm in....h-heat," You were so cute as you barely got the words out.

"Ah-"

Miguel finally felt the click as you told him. Looking around at his large lair, Miguel knew that this would not be private enough, nor comfortable for you. So, he took you to a spare bedroom in the Spider Society and locked the door.

Right as Miguel turned around, you had already taken your clothes off. You were on your knees, practically crying as you begged Miguel to hurry.

"Aye, amor, how can I go easy on you like this?"

---------

Your mind was starting to grow fuzzy. The pain was too much, especially since Miguel was going to help you. Your clothes were getting uncomfortable so you had to remove them. You inhaled deeply as Miguel approached you, stroking your cheek.

"Mhm~"

The warmth of his hand instantly melted you. You grabbed onto Miguel, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy, but you needed this. Miguel proceeded to press your body against the bed as his tongue ravished your mouth.

His hands were all over you, giving you that desperate touch you needed. Gasping, Miguel's fingers easily entered your soaked cunt, touching you in all the places you had been needing to be touch. The curl of his fingers against your gummy walls, caused you to moan and cry.

"So wet, amor. How long have you suffered from this?"

"Ah~ Ah~ S-So long....n-need you, Miggy~" You cried, shaking from cumming against his fingers.

"No, (Y/n), how long today."

"Hnnn, hours! M-Miguel, please! F-Fuck me!" You begged.

Your body needed more. The burning sensation was finally starting to go away, you just needed more. Miguel grunted softly, kissing your neck as he raised your legs. You were clenching to air, anticipating the fantastic feeling you were about to endure.

Tears started to form as you felt Miguel poke your entrance. His kisses a bit more rough as his cock started to make room inside of you. Pure bliss soared from your pussy to your brain as his thick cock stretched your gummy walls.

"I always imagined our first time...a bit more romantic," Miguel whispered, grunting softly as he kept pushing.

"S-Sorry t-that...ah~ I-I can't...mhm contro-"

"Shh, don't be sorry," Miguel grunted, finally setting fully inside of you, "I'll make sure to give you as much as you want. I'm happy to help."

You just moaned to his words, feeling his cock kissing your cervix. Your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cam from insertion. The warmth you were feeling was building up inside you. That knot growing as you moved your hips, needing more friction.

With each thrust, you started to lose your senses. Every slap of Miguel's hips brought you to heaven. Your body just melted against his as the noises the two of you made because almost pornographic. The wet slapping noises over powering his grunts.

"You're so loud, amor. Everyone will hear you," Miguel grunted as he pressed you into mating position, "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?"

"C-Cum, ah~ i-inside~" You cried, shuddering from the overstimulation.

The burning sensation was finally going away and all you wanted was Miguel to fill you. Breed you. Each slap of his cock inside you was almost painful from how sensitive you were. Jolts were shocking every part of you.

"Anything for you,"

Miguel groaned softly in your ear as he gave you his first hot load. You moaned, shuddering from cumming again. Your body was feeling sore, but you kept begging for more. This was too good to stop. Miguel's cock made it's home inside of you.

-------

Miguel gripped your hips as he kept fucking you stupid. Your moans were so loud and sexy that he couldn't hold back. Your pussy was dripping against the bedsheets, coating his cock white. His cum threatening to spill out of your poor pussy.

Your eyes were glossed over with a fucked out expression, drool nearly rolling down your lips. Cursing lowly as Miguel felt you squeezer against his dick again, he tried to control himself. Your body kept begging for more, no matter how fragile you both were now.

"Mig-" You choked, sobbing from pleasure, "M-More...j-just..."

Your words were barely coming out. Miguel frowned at the state you were in, but couldn't refuse. He brought you in for another deep kiss before giving you another heavy load.

--------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Your vision was blurred, but once you started to come to, you noticed that you were in Miguel's place.

"Hn-" You winced, trying to sit up but couldn't.

"Don't move. You're body is still sore and exhausted. Here's some water," Miguel sighed softly, sitting beside you to give you the drink, "How are you feeling now?"

"M-Miguel," Your voice was low and scratchy, "I-I'm sorry...I...I made you-"

"You didn't make me do anything. I offered to help, besides, I can't resist my poor girlfriend in pain," He cooed, kissing your head.

"Sorry,"

"Just next time, (Y/n), tell me when your heat starts. I want to make sure you get your fill before you come crying to me."

Feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you nuzzled against Miguel, agreeing to his offer. Hopefully with Miguel helping you, there will be less heats.

Ha.

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

Hope you enjoyed!!!

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

304 notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 3 days

Text

Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:

——

They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.

‘How has everything been, habibi?’

They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.

‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’

She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’

Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?

The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.

‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.

‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’

Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.

‘Why would the magician hide there?’

‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’

“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.

“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.

“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.

“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.

She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.

“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”

“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.

“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.

Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.

——

“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.

‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.

“What about you?”

‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.

Behind her mask, she smiled.

——

“Who was that, Robin?”

Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.

“She... protected me.”

Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.

“That’s it?”

“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.

A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.

And so the wheels turned.

——

“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”

Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.

There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.

She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.

“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.

Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.

"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.

"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."

"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."

She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.

No, she will bide her time.

She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.

And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.

——

"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"

Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?

"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"

Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.

"For your safety!"

Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."

"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"

Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."

Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.

"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."

Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.

"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."

"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."

"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.

——

Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.

The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.

The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.

She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.

"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”

It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.

His first mistake today.

That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.

His second mistake. His last mistake.

Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.

After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.

"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.

"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.

To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.

He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.

Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.

"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."

She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.

Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"

She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.

The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.

Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.

——

It felt like drowning.

(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)

Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.

The Pit felt like freedom.

And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.

It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-

Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.

——

“Habibi.”

Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.

“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.

“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.

“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.

“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”

“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.

“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.

“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”

“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.

“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”

“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”

“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”

“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.

“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”

And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.

——

Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.

She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.

She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.

“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.

“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”

Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”

She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”

She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.

“I am sorry, habibi. I…”

The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.

——

Damian trembled with rage. With grief.

With regret.

He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.

He thought it was passion.

His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.

“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”

“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.

“Yes.”

Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.

Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.

When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.

Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.

His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.

But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.

So he stayed still.

And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.

“Damian?”

How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.

As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.

——

Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.

“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Ahem.”

Jason quickly put his feet down.

“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”

“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.

“And what if they keep Damian captive?”

“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.

Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.

Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.

“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.

“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”

Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.

Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.

——

Clarity.

Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.

She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.

“Ukhti, what are you doing?”

“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”

At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.

Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!

Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.

The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.

——

“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”

“You fucked Talia, twice?!”

A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”

Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.

——

Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.

There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.

Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.

But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.

Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.

Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.

But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.

Her hands came up.

‘Not yet. Mother will think-”

“It is a good idea.”

Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.

“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”

Well.

It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…

‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’

“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.

——

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to.”

“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”

Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.

“Since it was ukhti that asked.”

Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”

Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.

“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.

“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”

“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”

Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.

“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”

Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.

Now he knew.

“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”

Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.

“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.

Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.

“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.

“She was ordered not to speak a word.”

“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.

“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.

“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.

“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”

“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”

“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”

Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!

“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”

Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.

“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”

“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”

Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.

“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”

“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.

“Two weeks.”

“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”

——

She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.

“Ukht.”

She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.

“I am sorry.”

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

“But-”

She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have noticed.”

‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’

“No, I suppose not.”

She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.

——

The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.

The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*

The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”

#Dick Grayson #dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self #oc in dc #batman #damian wayne’s older sister #damian wayne #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

128 notes · View notes

envysparkler · 3 days

Text

Of all the people Bruce expects to see on his doorstep on a Sunday morning, Talia al Ghul is very, very low on the list. Frankly, he’s surprised she bothered to knock.

“Oh,” Talia says, lips pursing in disappointment as he looms in the doorway, “it’s you.” She rocks on her heels, like she’s attempting to peer around him.

“This is my house,” Bruce says, half-offended and half-bewildered. She’s not alone, there’s a child scowling up at him—they’re making League assassins smaller and smaller these days—but Bruce ignores him and focuses on the greater threat. “I’ve already told Ra’s al Ghul that Gotham is off-limits—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t about him,” Talia waves him off and saunters forward, stepping over the threshold and into the house like it belongs to her. The child follows her, only pausing to sneer at Bruce, and Bruce is left standing on his porch, thoroughly dismissed.

Talia always did have a way of getting what she wanted, and damn anything in her way. It takes a moment for Bruce to shake the old, lingering fondness and remember that a deadly assassin is inside his house.

Alfred is going to kill him.

“Wait! Talia!” He catches up to her near the kitchen, where she is surveying the cereal boxes on the counter with palpable distaste. The child looks like he’s trying to test them for poison, or possibly poison them himself, but Bruce doesn’t have time to worry about that, because she’s found—

“Uh, Bruce?” Tim’s voice cracks high, out of his chair and holding both his cereal bowl and his spoon ready to throw. “Did you forget to tell me you had company?”

“Timothy Drake,” Talia says, cold enough to create icicles. She studies him for a long moment, skipping from his Superboy pajamas to his bleary face to the overfull mug of coffee on the table. “You are one of Lady Shiva’s.”

The child’s scowl deepens.

“Yes?” Tim looks at Bruce desperately, like it’s a test and he’s looking for the answer. Bruce shrugs.

“She mentioned you were passable,” Talia sniffs. “For a boy.”

Tim looks a mixture of outraged and pleased, but Bruce is more concerned with why Talia is here, standing in his home years after she gave back his mother’s ring. Talia only reveals whatever she wants to reveal, and while she does only ever tells the truth, she lets him draw incorrect conclusions from those truths all on his own. It means Ra’s isn’t involved in whatever brought her here, but that could mean anything from the old schemer being dead to Talia being on the run, and Bruce is not nearly awake for an imminent League invasion.

“Where’s Alfred?” Talia finally finishes her survey of the kitchen and rests her cool gaze on him.

That would be the reason Bruce is barely awake. He only managed to drag himself from bed with the reminder that there was an unsupervised teenager in his house. Unfortunately, he’d got there too late to save the coffeemaker.

“What do you want with Alfred?” Tim asks, on the verge of hostile. The child draws himself up like a hissing, spitting snake, and only stays still by virtue of Talia’s hand on his shoulder. Talia, for her part, merely looks inconvenienced.

“Well, this would’ve been several times simpler had he been here,” she sighs. “I could’ve dropped off Damian for a spot of tea and gotten on with my business.”

“And what is your business?” Bruce presses.

Talia heaves another sigh—this time dramatic and put upon. It’s an act, Bruce can tell, but that doesn’t help him, not when Talia turns to him and widens her eyes, looking up through her lashes. “Unfortunately, Beloved, your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills, and I’ve finally managed to track him down here, so I really must get going before he infiltrates that sorry excuse of a prison and finishes decapitating that clown you keep alive for some unfathomable reason.”

There’s a lot packed into that statement, and Bruce is still untangling ‘your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills’ with the knowledge that Nightwing is supposed to be safely inside Bludhaven and the growing horror that Dick might’ve accidentally started a war with the League of Assassins, so it’s Tim that inhales first, staring at the child in sharp shock and then up at Talia, before finally turning towards Bruce.

“You have a kid with Talia al Ghul?!”

~#~

Talia, of course, does not bother to explain anything. She merely instructs the child—Damian—to behave before vanishing back out the front door, and Bruce’s attempt to follow her is met with a katana and a high-pitched demand for a duel. It becomes apparent that Talia’s version of behaving doesn’t match Bruce’s, because it takes several minutes and one shallowly bleeding slice before Bruce can extricate himself.

The child—his child—Damian leaves him alone then, looking disappointed in his swordsmanship skills, and turns instead to badgering Tim, who despite favoring a bo staff—“a clearly inferior weapon unsuited to anything but sloppy pulverization,” comes out crisp and clear-edged, much like Bruce himself when he was younger and his only point of reference was Alfred—is judged a suitable opponent on the basis of Lady Shiva’s reference.

Bruce is maybe a little sulky that a child—his child—has dismissed him in favor of a teenager with a pillow crease on his cheek, but he suppresses the emotion to dart to the Batcomputer so he can ask Nightwing what the hell he’s been up to.

Unfortunately, Dick’s response is both confused and irritated, which means Bruce has to waste time explaining the situation lest his eldest give him the silent treatment again, and Dick signs off with a promise to drop by, clearly excited at the prospect of a new sibling.

Bruce doesn’t warn him that this one is more apt to stab him than hug him. Dick can figure that out for himself.

But with that distraction out of the way, he’s left to ruminate on Talia’s words. She wasn’t talking about Dick, and clearly not about Tim, and not Damian, and Bruce has no other sons. The thought drives a pang through him, a loss he will always carry, and he finds himself in front of the case with Jason’s uniform, as though it can help him solve the puzzle.

Is there another child out there he doesn’t know about? He’d swear that he doesn’t have another with Talia, but he has no idea when or how Damian was conceived, so it’s the most likely explanation.

#my snippets #bruce is so confused #all part of talia's plan #meanwhile jason is off having fun! with! explosives!#(and clowns)

99 notes · View notes

cevheris · 2 days

Text

Abby Anderson.

Fucking you on her motorcycle ☺️

tags: no need to sugarcoat anything she eats you out on her motorbike, semi public sex, she's kinda rough with it, dom/sub undertones.

You were riding on Abby's motorbike, been so needy lately but she was a busy woman, so you weren't able to play around as you'd like. You had missed her touch, the way her muscles would flex when she had her strong hold on your flesh. But now you were alone, well on the road, no less. Your tits behind the flimsy material of the shirt you were wearing pressed against her back as you hold onto her.

Arms wrapped around her lower belly, playing dangerous but it was worth it, traffic safety be damned you were fucking dripping for this woman, head too fuzzy for consequences.

She was taking you to a friends house or whatever, you weren't listening when she told you that, instead you were busy grinding yourself on the seat of the bike like a pathetic little slut, but you pay no mind to such labels anymore. I mean if the shoe fits.

But you weren't completely stupid, obviously, so you wait like a good girl for a red light to strike, your hand drawing closer to her parted thighs once she stops the ride you are onto her.

"Abby-" delicate fingers playing with the material of her pants, near her inner thighs earning a surprised gasp from her. And as if taking that as your cue you press against her further and cup her clothed pussy.

She involuntarily drops her head back, with a heavy whine she spells out "What are you doing-?"

"You know exactly what," you apply pressure with two fingers on where you know her clit to be under those layers.

"Are you out of your mind-" her hips rise a little to gain more friction from your palm involuntarily, you take your hand away just to be a little shit. Making her groan at the lost.

"Maybe i am," but before you can do much else the green light is on and your time is up. She pushes on the engine and you almost fall back with the momentum, barely finding the time to hold back to her. "Whoa- hey- hey" maybe she was the crazy one.

Now you weren't the only one playing said dangerous game, her's were deadly though, nowhere near close to your little teases of cat and mouse. You realize she's changed routes, and her grasp on the handlebar lever a little too strong for the speed limit.

"Wait where are we even-" she cuts you before you can finish.

"We will play what you want, how you want bunny."

Abby pulls near a back alley, without telling you anything she spins you around and you brace yourself against the stone wall of the shady corner, only support being her motorcycle.

"Acting like a cheap whore will only get you so far you know," she gives a little slap at your butt, so rudely "Good thing i'm here, yeah?"

Goddamn, seeing her mean like this was something new, but fuck was it a welcome surprise. You whine then, she presses you further into the wall with your cheeks squashed and her hand on your ass.

Abby's next move was simple, pulling your pants down together with your underwear, bunching at your bent knees, leaving you open on display. The cold air of both the alley and reality of being bare in public, well, semi public but still, was making you drip down hard.

Abby kneels down, presses her face to your cunt, laps at your slick as if honey, only getting you wetter. Eating pussy from behind felt dirtier, cheap.

She spreads your lips to lick deeper into your wet hole, teething on your slick pearly clit. Kissing your puffy lips and playing on your rim, she knew how you liked it best.

Well she also knew she had to keep it short, unfortunately. If it was up to her she'd keep you open on display like this and lick you clean until you were out of it and spent, but alas, you were getting your ass ate in a back alley for fucks sake.

Her tongue continue it's magic for some more, enough to get you off for two times, your hole leaking down like some fountain of youth.

But before giving you the pleasure of a third orgasm she pulls back, slaps your pussy from the back and pulls your pants back up. A needy whine slips your lips while you move your hips together to feel better. That was not enough.

As if reading your mind, "Look at the mess," trust she was no different under those clothes, "We'll continue later baby, when we get back."

Yeah and when you do get back, she'd split you apart with her eight inch strap, well lubed up and well pampered until you can't remember ever feeling so needy.

#need her viscerally #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby tlou #cece writes #cevherudite

126 notes · View notes

sarafinamk · 18 hours

Text

Fallen Angel (Smiling Critters Space Riders AU Reader Insert) Part 4

Summary: Bobby has been dealing with a lot of guilt ever since you went into rehab. Now that you're finally getting released, she's determined to make it up to you.

Two chapters in one day! Let's go! Check out the other parts here. The Smiling Critters Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline. Enjoy!

TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injury, Trauma, Death mentions, Mentions of assassination attempts, Religious Trauma, Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Religious Cults, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Self harm Attempt, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Brief Anxiety Attack, Slight cursing, LOTS of negative thoughts, Implied Abuse, Conditioning

----------

Bobby woke up and shot herself out of bed before her alarm could finish its first beep. She puts on her uniform, goes through her usual routine, and finishes by the time everyone else wake up. The other riders exchange worried glances amongst each other but they say nothing to Bobby.

Today’s the day the riders pick you up from the treatment center so you can continue to serve your sentence with them. Sure, serving your sentence in the same station where they kept the other prisoners would seem like the obvious choice, if you were any other enemy to the galaxy, that is. But the fact is, you’re not, and Commander Ludwig isn’t sure just how many more break-ins he and the medical staff are able to handle.

Of course, word would get around that the Prototype’s archangel was being confined at HQ’s treatment center. To no one’s surprise, anyone with a vendetta and a craving for bloodshed, would try to find you and your cell. You never got hurt, at least. No extra security measures are enough to dissuade them it seems.

Bobby gets herself situated in the cockpit, glancing back and forth between the starry scenery, the clock on the wall, and the navigation tab open in front of Dogday. She sighs while absent-mindedly bouncing her leg hard enough to turn the couch into a massage chair.

“Are you sure you want to come with us, Bobby?” Dogday’s concerned voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “It’s okay if you want to stay behind while we get (Y/n). There’s no pressure. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Bobby gives her best reassuring, confident smile.

“Dogday, I appreciate your concern, but I can’t avoid (Y/n) forever. I have to face them eventually. And I really do want to see them.”

There is a brief moment of silence before Dogday sighs, nods, and goes back to piloting the ship. Bobby goes back to glancing out the window, her smile quickly disappearing.

She didn’t lie. She really wanted to visit you. Just once. Everyone else has visited you at least a few times, but Bobby couldn’t even find the courage to visit you after what happened in your old prison cell. None of her teammates held it against her, but she sure as heck did. She's a trained medic for crying out loud! She shouldn't have been acting hysterical the way she was, especially when you needed her the most. She's dealt with blood and injuries before. She's dealt with a few mentally unstable cultists during her time as a Space Rider. She's even helped out people in similar situations like you before.

No!

She has to remember that she may not have been much help during such a critical moment, but help came to you on time. You’re surrounded by trained medics and from what the other riders have told her, you’ve been recovering well in the treatment center. That's what matters!

Part of her, however, still holds onto the fear that if she visited your cell, she would find you all bloody and on the edge of death again. Some nights, she would have nightmares about that.

What if it happens today?

Soon enough, they arrive at the Space Station. Straightening her uniform and taking a deep breath, Bobby follows Dogday into the station. Thankfully, the treatment center was close to the hangars. It made the transporting of the injured easier for everyone.

The pair stop at the entrance. Dogday looks back at Bobby with a reassuring smile, gesturing back to the hangars. Bobby returns the smile, more sincere and determined this time. She shakes her head and stares at the neon sign above the entrance. She is going to see you today and she will not back down.

Not this time nor any time going forward.

Dogday nods in understanding, and the pair make their way inside. They check in and wait which didn't take long. Dogday sees you first, and greets you warmly. Bobby turns to where her captain was looking and there you were.

You walk out the hallway with two riders and a doctor. Bobby frowns upon seeing the handcuffs on you. She hated the idea of you being locked in a cell while needing to be hospitalized. Sure, you’ve done terrible things, and you served a terrible being, but you must’ve had a good reason. Call her crazy but she believes there is some good in you.

The riders hand Bobby your bag and stand at attention while the doctor and Dogday discuss your treatment plan going forward. Bobby tries to pay attention, but finds herself too busy staring at you. In her defense, how can she not? She's seeing you for the first time in six months.

She was ACTUALLY seeing you without any bandages, bruises, cuts, or that awful mask you always wore. For the first time, Bobby is seeing the real you, the one everyone called the Archangel. Her teammates were right about you. Not only do you look healthier, but you just look...

Beautiful.

Like...

REALLY beautiful.

You glance her way, and she smiles and waves (albeit very awkwardly). You nod in her direction and turn your focus back to the conversation between Dogday and the doctor.

Oh god, this is awkward.

After a brief exchange of thank you's and goodbyes from both sides, Bobby and Dogday quickly escort you back to the ship.

----------

You internally breathe a sigh of relief the moment you entered the Space Riders’ ship. You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle all those eyes glancing your way. You were waiting for someone to come out of the shadows some way and finish you off just like those intruders that try to break into your cell.

Now that thought made you tense up again despite it being only you and the eight Space Riders in this ship. You couldn't sense any other energies in the ship, but that didn't ease your racing mind one bit. Who knows what the Space Riders will do to you now that they are not forced to follow social protocols?

You still have those damn power mufflers on you. Sure, that shouldn't stop you from fighting, but not only are you surrounded by four riders who have celestial powers, but you're surrounded by four non-celestial riders who, unfortunately, handle themselves well in combat. Unless you can outsmart all eight of them and break your power mufflers in the process, you don't see yourself winning this fight. It's best to be smart about all this.

"Okay, so, first things first, welcome back, (Y/n). We're happy that you're here with us," the Captain begins while clasping his hands together, making you stand straight at full attention. "It's okay, relax. It's just introductions. Nothing formal."

You're not sure if this is supposed to be a test or not, but you would rather not risk failing it when you just got here. You continue to stand at full attention, waiting for the Captain to continue. The Captain sighs, and clears his throat before continuing

"Anyways, I know there's a lot to do and discuss, and you probably have some questions. Don't worry, we'll get to that in time. But since this is your first day back, I think it would be best to try and get you settled in. I can show you where you'll be staying and-"

"Actually," interrupted Bobby, "I can show (Y/n) where they'll be staying."

"Are you sure?" the Captain asks with hesitation in his voice.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure."

The only response she is met with is silence. You wait for something to happen: an argument, physical discipline, a speech, or a fair sentence. You never saw the Captain incorporate the type of punishments that the Prototype did.

At least in public anyways.

But now that he is no longer in the public eye, you're not sure if you're ready to witness the truth for the first time, but you prepare yourself for it anyways. Instead, to your surprise, the first thing the Captain does is take the handcuffs off you, but not the power mufflers.

"Okay, if you're sure."

Bobby cheerfully thanks the Captain and escorts you to the direction of the prison cells. You reach the entrance leading to the prison cells, but Bobby just... passes it. Did she not pay attention to where she was going? Why is she passing it?

You want to ask, but you force yourself to keep quiet. She could be looking to punish you for making her suffer with your selfishness. That’s why she never visited you during your rehabilitation. Instead, she leads you to the riders’ sleeping quarters and into one sleeping quarter that you know was never occupied. All the furniture arranged was as you remember it from previous battles except the bed is now neatly made.

“Here we are. Your new room. It’s not much, but I think it’ll be a nice change of environment for you after being hospitalized for almost a year.”

Not much? This is a lot more than what you see in the sleeping quarters back home. This is much more than the cells you were in for the last several months. If this isn’t “much” to the heretics, then what does having a lot look like to them?

“Crafty and I made some clothes for you. She noticed you like having your head covered, so we made you a lot of hoodies.”

You silently take in every little detail of the room.

“This is all mine?”

“Yes, it is. We weren’t sure how you wanted your room decorated, but we’ll figure that out over time.” Why would it matter how you wanted to decorate this room? At least the Space Riders are giving you, their prisoner, one in the first place. It’s selfish to ask for more than what you deserve. “Picky is making a special dinner to celebrate your recovery and coming back. I’ll come get you when it’s ready. I’ll leave you alone to get settled.” Bobby’s voice cuts off your thoughts, even when you don’t say anything. She smiles and makes her way to the door.

“Thank you,” you say suddenly. Bobby stops dead, turns to you slowly. Her eyes widen.

“What did you say?”

You clear your throat and straighten yourself up. “Considering the fact I’m your prisoner, this is a very generous accommodation.”

Bobby continues to stare at you, and you're questioning if you said the wrong thing already. Not even one hour into your return and you’re already making mistakes. Maybe she’ll change her mind and decide a cell is a more fitting place, but instead of her screaming, or silence and storming away from you, she smiles. “You're not our prisoner here, (Y/n). You're our guest. We want to help you get better. I’m just happy that you’re here with us.”

With that, you are left alone. You hastily dig into your bag which Bobby must have placed in the on the dresser. Thankfully, your journal and the books given to you by Bubba were still there.

You pull one of the drawers and they were full of very thick long-sleeved shirts with hoods. “Hoodies” as Bobby called them. But… which one are you supposed to wear? Bobby never specified which one was mandatory for you, and you couldn’t just ask. You would get punished for not knowing when it should be obvious. You grip the skin of your forearm tightly.

No.

No, no.

No, no, no.

Fight back the temptation to see red! You can’t risk being sent back again. Just take some deep breaths.

In…

Hold…

Out…

Repeat.

Just like the healers taught you. Soon enough, your grip loosens and thankfully, there was no sign of red.

You look back at the drawer of “hoodies.” Since the Space Riders wear white while off duty, then perhaps the white one would be your safest choice. You sigh, hoping that line of reasoning will hold true during mealtime. You relax more when the warmth and softness cover you. The best part was that hood covered your head. It was no mask, but it was better than having your entire head exposed. You were just relieved you no longer had to rely on those infirmary blankets to keep your body and head covered. At least there were no cameras installed in your accommodation… to your knowledge.

Since you had no orders given until mealtime, you decided to explore more of the room. Maybe if you are good, then living as a prisoner of the heretics won’t be so terrible. Maybe you will be able to survive Hell after all.

----------

Stay tuned for the next part "Burn Bright Until You Burn Out"

54 notes · View notes

seramilla · 12 hours

Note

carmilla introducing vaggie to her girls. misscarriage

Carmilla: girls, theres someone i want you to meet

Clara: moma, we already know vaggie

Carmilla: si, but im introducing her as your sister

clara passed money over to odette: told you itd take less than a year for her to adopt her

carmilla: not quite adoption, remember when we died i was pregnant?

Odette and Clara return to the compound later that evening, filthy and covered in grime from a full day of excavating angelic weapons. They can't believe the sheer number left behind this time. Thanks to Charlie and the others at the hotel, there were more angelic bodies than Sinners; carrying not only weapons, but covered in armor. The sisters are tired but excited to get back to work the next day, to dig into the secrets their discoveries may uncover, and see what they can create from them.

After cleaning up, they notice the building is surprisingly quiet. Carmilla said she had work to do, and would wait up for them. The dark expanse of the warehouse is eerie, and their footsteps echo as they make their way to Carmilla's makeshift apartment on the second floor. They can see from the lights in the doorway that she's still awake; or at least still there, so they can tell her what they'd found. Upon opening the door, however, the two quickly realize their mother isn't alone. It's that girl...Charlie's partner. Vaggie. Sitting at their mother's side, Carmilla's hand on her knee, talking like they've known each other for years.

Carmilla is...smiling. And so is Vaggie. Odette and Clara stop in the doorway, staring at the two, puzzled, until they are noticed. Carmilla and Vaggie immediately stop talking when they see their visitors; Vaggie even shifts away a little, embarrassed. Carmilla stands abruptly, rubbing the back of her head with her claws awkwardly, but ultimately gesturing toward her daughters to come in.

"Girls," Carmilla says, a little catch in her voice. "Welcome back. You've met Vaggie, haven't you?"

"Yeah," Clara says, as she and Odette enter and shut the door behind them. "We met when we delivered that custom order to the snake man at the hotel. How's the weapon working, by the way?"

"Umm..." Vaggie flinches a little when Clara brings up Sir Pentious. She has such a look of profound sadness on her face at the mention of him, like she wants to cry. There's such a drastic change in the angel's demeanor, Odette awkwardly clears her throat and tries to change the subject.

"You're that angel that's dating Charlie, right? How are you feeling? Are you recovering okay? You had such a nasty scrape with the Exterminators."

"Oh! Yes," Vaggie says, seemingly surprised Odette would ask how she’s doing. “I’m doing a lot better, thank you. Charlie’s been taking care of me. And, uh...Carm--your mom, too.”

Vaggie’s voice is so much smaller and softer than either Odette or Clara remember. She’d been so full of energy and authority at the hotel; directing all the residents and keeping them out of trouble. It’s surprising this is the same woman in front of them now, acting all meek and mild in front of their mother. Hadn't she challenged her just several days prior? What happened since then?

"You've sure been spending a lot of time with Mama lately," Clara says, putting voice to the obvious. It's not so much an accusation, as an observation. There's no suspicion or malice in Clara's voice, just a lilt of a...question? Odette's thinking the same thing, if she's honest. Carmilla's been spending a lot of time with the angel. She doesn't mind, but...she also can't escape the feeling that something else is going on. Something she's not being told.

"Did you adopt her or something, Mom?" Odette asks, chuckling, trying to lower the tension building in the room. "She's strong. We could always use an extra hand around here."

The silence that permeates the space at her comment shocks Odette to her very core. Suddenly, both Vaggie's and her mother's eyes spike open, like Odette just mentioned someone had died. The change in their demeanor is palpable. Vaggie turns away, as if she's unable to look at the sisters anymore. Carmilla stutters again, trying to find her voice. She's been doing that a lot lately, where Vaggie is concerned. Carmilla can't seem to find the words to explain, and Odette and Clara don't know the right questions to get answers out of her.

"What? What did I say?" Odette looks at her mother, concerned. Carmilla looks like she's about to cry.

"It's not like that, mija," Carmilla says, unconvincingly. Oh shit, Odette notices, she is crying. "Umm, girls...come sit with me for a minute. Please? I need to tell you something."

They do. Vaggie moves out of the way so Odette and Clara can sit on the futon next to their mother. Carmilla reaches for the angel, too, trying to draw her in, but Vaggie just turns away, her back to the rest of them. She looks so small again, like she's curling in on herself. Carmilla looks like she wants to say something, but thinks better of it, and draws her attention back to the other girls.

"Clara. Odette. I'm going to say something, and I need you to...to keep an open mind. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course, Mom," Odette says, getting concerned at this line of questioning. "What's wrong? You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"Yeah! Whatever it is, we can take it. We're worried about you." Clara chimes in. As if her mother would ever doubt their resolve. Carmilla should know them better than that by now.

Carmilla pauses, for an unusually long time. Odette sees her trying to find the right words to say. Carmilla's hand then lowers, and she's...she's rubbing her midsection, over her pubic bone. Over her belly, like when she was...

Carmilla sighs, choking up again, but decides to just go for it anyway.

"All those years ago, when...when we died? Do you remember that I was...that I was with, aahhh...what state I was in?"

"You were pregnant, Mom," Odette says, squeezing her mother's hand, choking up at the memory. Carmilla had just found out, not even a few weeks prior. They hadn't even had time to celebrate. Her baby shower had been months away, and then their lives had been taken from them, snatched away like a thief in the night. "Of course we remember. You can say it. How could we forget?"

"Do you remember when we finally woke up, and how long it took for me to remember how we were killed? Clara, do you remember what you asked me?"

"I asked you what happened to the baby, and you said you didn't know. That it was just gone... Wait, Mama, hey! Are you okay? What's the matter?"

Carmilla catches them both off guard. She is actually sobbing now, out of nowhere. Face in her claws, digging them into into her forehead, and leaving red welts on the skin there. Her body shakes, wracked with grief, as if she's finally letting it all out, like she's been holding it together. For them. She probably has.

"I..." Carmilla starts, tears streaming between her fingers. "I can't! I'm sorry--I can't!"

Carmilla starts breathing rapidly, in-between sobs, like she's hyperventilating. Odette can't remember the last time she's seen her mother this way. Not since...

She and Clara are on their feet in an instant, about to wrap their mother up in their arms, and console her. Hug her, hold her, or...something. Anything, to get her to calm down and tell them what's going on.

They would have, anyway, except suddenly, Vaggie is there, already doing it for them.

"Carmilla, hey!" Vaggie says, squeezing Carmilla's shoulders from behind, much more level-headed and put together than the moment prior. She almost looks like she's back to her normal self. Brave...or at least she's trying to be. "Carmilla! Carmilla, stop! It's okay. You don't have to do this."

"I do!" Carmilla shouts, turning her head to look at Vaggie. The angel is surprised -- the matriarch's eyes are glowing. But around the edges, they've softened, and there's so much blue mixed in with the red.

Odette notices, too. Carmilla's eyes haven't been that way since...well, since they were alive. Like...like the human part of her is trying to fight to the surface. Resurrected by memories; ones she's being forced to recall, that she might rather have forgotten, to spare herself the pain.

"I have to tell them, Vaggie. They need to understand."

"Understand what, Mom?" Odette asks. She knows she shouldn't keep asking this. It's stupid. It's obviously hurting her mother. Odette's probably pushing a line here, that shouldn't be crossed, and she knows it. But her curiosity is killing her, all over again, and she just can't help herself. She needs to know what's wrong, so she and Clara can fix it.

Vaggie surprises her again.

"Let me do it, then," Vaggie says, forcefully, insisting, trying to get Carmilla to see reason. "You've been so strong for me. You've helped me so much. Let me do this for you."

"Vaggie, you don't have to...please, just give me a moment. I can--"

"No. This is hurting you. I want to help." Then, without hesitation, the angel looks at Odette and Clara, straight in the eye. Odette sees pain there, too; so much pain, and loss, but Vaggie pushes past it, and tells them, point-black, "It's me! Carmilla lost her baby, and it was me! All the Exorcists! We're lost children! We all died before we were born! They did tests on your blood when I was in the hospital, and you're all a match! Carmilla is my mother. You're my sisters! I know this may be hard to believe, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but you have to--!"

Vaggie doesn't get a chance to finish her tirade. Suddenly, a body collides into her front, wrapping its arms around her snuggly, in an almost too-tight bear hug. The angel stumbles on her feet, and may have toppled onto the floor, if the other person hadn't caught her.

That's when Vaggie notices the other person who has her is Clara, her arms grasped around her middle, with her face buried in the fallen angel's neck.

"I knew it!" Clara proclaims into Vaggie's skin, letting go of the smaller woman just enough to look back at Odette, sitting on the futon with their mother in a shocked stupor. Carmilla is looking at them, too. "I fucking told you, Odette! I fucking told you!"

Odette stands, and then immediately collapses to her knees. Despite her addled brain, despite her racing mind, and despite the absolute lack of belief she's experiencing in that moment, she still has enough of her wits about her to say, "Shit...sis, you were right."

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #ask #fan theories #vaggie carmilla related au

43 notes · View notes

hazbinfallinginaspiral · 3 days

Note

Hey Love your stuff! The Vs being protective of Retro, preventing them remembering anything bad or near murder that they do, is actually cute considering what Retro's dark side.

So here is a thought I had after reading Valentino covering up his near murder that Retro saw. What if Retro, most likely in the tower as i can't picture them ever doing this in public, was to try and flirt with Vox and Val?

I don't expect anything more than Retro maybe trying on a risky outfit, maybe getting nervous, and getting caught of course.

I just wonder how they would react as Retro making that kinda move seems outta character for your wonderfully created Hidden Serious killer 'house wife' Sea Bunny.

Sorry if my suggestion made you uncomfortable feel free to ignore it.

Anon, you are amazing. Don’t worry about it at all! I actually have a really adorable idea because of this, and I hope you like it! (Slight spice warning? I guess. It’s just a picture of the outfit in question, nothing really happens)

Something New!

“Vel, babe,” I said, with a nervous smile. “I have a teensy tiny favor to ask of you.”

“Oh?” Velvette asked, over the phone. She motioned for her models to shut up. “And what would that be?”

“Just- please come to my room when you can,” I said quietly. I was already blushing, and I hadn’t even told her what this was about.

“Of course! I’ll be over before you know it,” she said with a grin. I never asked for favors, much less from her. She knew that whatever this was, it would be good. “Love ya sweetheart, see you soon!”

“Love you too,” I said, a small smile on my face.

She hung up and dropped everything. “Everyone! Leave! Now!” She said, pointing towards the door. “I’ve got an emergency to cover.” She made another call on her phone. “Yeah, hey, Vox? Shut off the cameras.”

“What- why?” He asked, sounding suspicious. He was watching me fidget nervously in my bedroom- he was in his office, watching from the cameras- as I awaited Velvettes arrival. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all! If my hunch is correct, this could be great,” Velvette said, sounding excited. “I just need you to turn off your stalker cameras for a bit- at least the ones near and around Retro. If you’re watching, they might bail.”

“Bail on what?” Vox asked, sitting up straighter. “Vel, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she said in a sing song voice, already headed to my room. “Nothing you need to worry about, at least. This will be fun, trust me.”

“Fine.”

“Yes!”

“But you only get two hours,” Vox said sternly. “Then the cameras are on and I get an explanation, understand?”

“You got it, babes,” Velvette said with a grin. She hung up and knocked on my door. “Retro? I’m here, love. May I come in?”

“Hm?” I looked at the door, surprised. She’d gotten here quick. I opened the door and stepped aside, letting her in my room. “Uh, yeah, definitely.” I closed the door behind her. “Uh. Don’t you- I thought you had work?”

“Hm? Oh yes, it was a slow day,” she said, waving a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now, what was that favor you needed?”

“Oh! Right,” I said, my face heating up already. I looked away and sat on my bed, fidgeting again. “I, uh… I was wondering….”

“You were wondering,” Velvette repeated, sitting down besides me. My reaction was practically confirmation of her guess, but she wanted to hear it from me. “What is it, love? You know I can’t help unless you tell me.”

“Can you- could you help me find a good outfit to wear?” I blurted. God, I was so tense and nervous. It was silly, really. This wouldn’t be my first time wearing something risky, but I was still anxious about it. I loved them, and I was afraid I’d screw it up. I was having second thoughts already. “Something for Vox and Valentino. Something they’d like.”

“Oh!” Velvette said. She put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. She thought it was something of this nature, but to have me actually say it? Me admitting it? Damn. The way I was acting made it adorable to her. “You want something… suggestive? Or just showy?”

“W-what?” I asked, looking at her. Now I was confused. “Wait, there’s a difference? What?”

“Oh sweetheart,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “I have so much to teach you.”

For what seemed like forever, Velvette showed me an outfit and I said no. She was showing me lingerie, bondage gear, and the like. She quickly realized I was not used to this sort of thing (and I didn’t want to do anything, I just wanted to tease the boys), and toned it down. Eventually, we settled on a top and some normal pants.

(Left if you don’t have tits, right if you do. Or you could wear something else, I don’t care. I just don’t know how to describe this lol)

So, I got changed and hesitantly walked out from behind my dressing screen to show Velvette the outfit.

“So, uh… what do you think?” I asked, doing a little twirl for her. “Do you think they’ll like it?”

“Oh. My. God.” She gasped and walked over, admiring how I looked, and her handiwork. “Babes, you have got to do this more often! You look stunning. Here, let me get a picture.”

“No! No,” I said immediately pulling away. I was blushing furiously. “Please don’t. Oh my god, I should’ve known this was a bad idea. God, I feel so stupid…”

Velvette frowned, looking disappointed. She felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant to make me feel that way, she just wanted something to remember the occasion. She reached out to explain, but before she could, the door opened. Vox and Valentino walked in, looking serious.

“Alright, times up,” Vox said sternly. “I turned off the cameras, now I expect an-” he cut himself off when he saw me.

“Oh,” Valentino said with a grin. “This. I like this.”

“Fuck! Fuck, no, shit- you aren’t supposed to- oh my god,” I panicked, ducking behind my dressing screen. My face was as red as a tomato. I was so embarrassed. “Please leave!”

“Wait, what?” Vox asked, looking to Velvette. He was confused by my reaction. Was he not supposed to see me like this? Hadn’t I just spent the past two hours preparing for this? Why was I reacting this way? He wondered if he did something wrong. “Did I…?”

“No, it’s not you,” Velvette said quickly. She stood and walked over to the two, looking guilty. “They’re just… a bit shy. They aren’t used to this, you know? I kind of startled them, by accident, just before you came in.”

“Oh,” Vox said. He was still processing. And overheating slightly.

“Honey bunny,” Val said softly, approaching the dressing screen slowly. “It’s okay. We didn’t- we don’t-” he sighed. He had no idea what to say. “Sweetheart..”

“It was a silly idea,” I said quietly, on the other side of the screen. I was sitting on the floor, my knees tucked to my chest. “Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” he said. “May I…? Please?”

I didn’t respond but I didn’t stop him, either. I was conflicted. I wanted them to see, I was just afraid. I was afraid of a negative reaction. “I… I guess.”

He pushed the dressing screen aside and folded it up, then sat down next to me. “Come here, mi amor, it’s okay,” he said gently. He reached out to touch me, but didn’t, awaiting my permission. He was being so considerate, it was unlike him. I leaned towards him, allowing him to touch me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. “You look beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. He pulled me up against him.

“Thank you,” I said, with a small smile.

I looked over at Vox, who seemed on the verge of a system crash. His screen was flickering and he was clearly overheating just at the sight of me. Velvette was trying to help. She was not very successful. I laughed a little to myself and smiled wider- more genuine.

“He likes it too, you know,” Val said, nudging me playfully.

“I can tell,” I said, my expression softening. I was less tense now, more relaxed. “I’m glad.”

“So… will you be doing this again?” He asked with a grin.

“We’ll see,” I said with a small laugh. “I’m not sure Vox could handle it.”

“He’ll just have to get used to it! I won’t let him stop me from seeing you all dolled up and gorgeous like this,” Valentino said with a playful huff. He gently ran his fingers along my bare skin. “You look wonderful, mi cariño.”

“I agree!” Vox said, apparently having snapped out of his little spiral. His screen had a pink tinge to it- I imagined that was his way of blushing- but he had a smile on his face. He walked over and sat with us, Velvette following close behind. “I’d love to see you like this more, if you’re comfortable with it. You look stunning, either way, my dear.”

“Thank you,” I said, blushing again. He chuckled and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

“Not a problem, darling,” he said softly. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and smiled wider. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I love them more than you!” Velvette declared.

“Hey!”

“I love them most!”

“HEY!”

49 notes · View notes

libby-for-life · 7 hours

Note

Could you do a yandere lucifer x yandere lilith x adam oneshot, please

Maybe adam goes back in time to eden and realize he wants nothing to do with those two. But lilith and lucifer noticed the change and decided to do something about it.

.....mmmmm. Oh, this feeds the soul!

Adam fucking hated this. That bitch cyclops just had to kill him, didn't she? And now? And now he was in some cruel twist of irony and he was back in the Garden of Eden. He was back with her and Lucifer and he couldn't stand the sight of them.

He had already seen the glances they'd been giving each other. Acting as if he was stupid and couldn't feel the sexual tension between them.

Well, he already had his week of existential crisis and his meltdown. Now? Now he just wants to avoid all of them altogether. They want to have their shitty love story? They can have it! Just don't expect Adam to watch it!

With that in mind, Adam decided to ignore and avoid them. They can get kicked out of Eden for all he cares. Just as long as they aren't near him.

Lilith notices it first. She was always trying to find a way to avoid Adam. He wasn't cruel or mean, he was just...well, to be blunt, boring. He seemed so much like a...an empty vessel more than a man. Lilith was put off by it and always found excuses to be away from him. He believed her every time and she shoved the feeling of guilt for lying but....she couldn't be with him.

Then she realized she hadn't seen him in two weeks. Seeing Lucifer in secret had never been easier. She found it...odd. Usually by now, he would be calling her name and clinging to her like....like the monkeys that swung in the trees. Sometimes...it was far too tight and she just wanted some space.

Now, as she basked in the afterglow of what she and Lucifer just did, she couldn't help but question it.

"Lucifer?"

"Hm?" Lucifer replied, looking at her with the most caring and loving eyes. Lilith couldn't help but smile.

"Have...you seen Adam around? It's been a while." Lucifer cocked his head. Probably because Adam was never really brought up in the conversations they had.

He hummed before answering. "Now that you've mentioned it, I haven't seen him. That's odd. He'd usually be looking for us by now."

They both shared a look. Well, she supposed it didn't matter. Adam must be doing his own thing.

Another week passes and now Lucifer is getting worried. "You're both under my care." He said to Lilith. "I don't want something bad to happen to him. I'm going to go look for him." Lucifer searched Eden and found him on the other side of the garden. Far away from Lucifer and Lilith.

He was sleeping under a pile of animals. Wolves. All of them were huge compared to Adam’s slimmer frame. He looked so peaceful. See? Lucifer told himself. You were worried for nothing. All the same, he walked over to wake him up. Adam would be overjoyed to see him!

Adam woke up to someone poking his cheek. He mumbled and snuggled back into Metallica's fur. A baritone laugh made him sit up. Lucifer. He stood over him with a gentle smile. Adam ignored the feeling of nostalgia when he saw that smile directed at him and instead leveled the archangel with a blank look.

"Yes?"

Lucifer looked down at him with surprise. What, Adam's no longer vying for affection and you can't understand it? Tough titty.

"Uh...I was just checking up on you! I haven't seen you in a while! How are you?"

Adam held back a scoff. He's been avoiding them for three weeks and only now has Lucifer decided to check up on him?

"Fine. You can go now." Lucifer tilted his head and flinched. "You...want me to leave?"

"Yes. You're bothering me." Adam said standing up. He was smaller than his former angel form but he was taller than Lucifer. "You know what? I'll just leave." And Adam walked away with the rest of the wolves, leaving Lucifer to stare back in shock.

"He just left? He didn't want you there?" Lilith questioned, completely taken aback. This was NOT the Adam she knew.

"I was surprised too. He said I was bothering him." Lucifer looked down in thought and a bit of hurt came across her vision. Lilith hugged him and looked up at the sky in thought. Perhaps she should try? Adam was always happy to see her!

It took her a while to find him but she caught sight of him climbing a fruit tree, oranges, and she smiled. He had a look of determination on his face. A wolf pack surrounded the tree and she smiled and petted one. "Hi, Adam!"

She should have known better than to startle him. Lilith watched with horror as Adam lost his grip due to surprise and fell from his branch.

Quicker than what she thought possible, she ran forward and caught the First Man in her arms. Adam clung to her in surprise and a bit of fear crossed his features.

"Well, that could have been a nasty fall!" Lilith said, letting out a laugh. Adam was a bit smaller than her by a head so it didn't feel awkward to hold him like this.

Lilith watched in fascination as a red blossomed over Adam’s cheeks and he looked away. "C-can you let me down?"

Lilith held back a smirk but let him go. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." All traces of his blush were gone and Lilith looked at his indifferent face with shock. He...had never looked at her that way before.

"I'm going to go now. Don't follow me." Lilith was too stunned to do anything but gape at Adam as he walked away with the wolf pack. This was DEFINITELY not the Adam she knew!

"He's different. I didn't know how, but he is." Lilith said to Lucifer. "What do you think made him change?"

"I don't know. But we're going to find out." For the next month, they followed Adam and observed him. He seemed the happiest with animals and played with the wolf pack constantly. Adam would run when they approached so they stuck to following.

He seemed so...carefree. Happy. The two of them would smile as they watched the First Man just live his life and was perfectly happy with being alone. But...things really changed when Lilith and Lucifer saw Adam touch himself for the first time.

They were watching him sleep, when did they start doing that, and watched as Adam’s penis became erect. What was he dreaming about? Lilith and Lucifer couldn't help but blush when they saw it.

Adam woke up to his problem and he sighed. With a blush staining his own cheeks, he grabbed his penis and began stroking himself.

A moan tumbled out. They didn't realize how...sensitive he was. Lilith bit her lip as she watched slender fingers grip his manhood and rub it. He was...cute doing this. Lilith's blush deepened when she accepted that thought.

Lucifer was watching with hooded eyes as Adam went on all fours, ass up and head down as he touched himself. He had been turned on before but this was something else. It was on par with Lilith. A glance at her told him that she was turned on as well. Her face matched his. The face of someone watching prey and Lucifer bit his lip as smirked.

"Are you liking what you're seeing?" Lucifer asked and Lilith turned to him, eyes burning. "Yes."

"I am too." They both watched as Adam’s form arched and cute whimpers left his plump lips. He came on the ground, thighs trembling from being in that position for so long.

They watch him get up and walk away, presumably to wash himself. Then, Lilith turned him and gave him her look. The look she gave him was one of want and desire.

"I want him."

They decided to ambush him while he was bathing. They watched with smiles as he played in the water and swam around. Lilith bit her lip as she walked from the bush she was watching from and slipped in. Silently moving forward, she stood behind him as Lucifer's naked form came into view of Adam.

"Lucifer?!" Adam cried out and Lilith smirked at the blush that creeped all the way behind his neck and ears. Adam was so cute flustered like this.

"Taking a bath? Mind if I join?" Lucifer said, slipping into the water. "Uh—um," Adam stammered and backed up. Right into Lilith's awaiting arms. She hugged him from behind, pushing her breasts over his shoulders so that his face was cradled between them.

"I'm going to join too."

"Hu?!" A high whimper left Adam making the two others smirk. Aw, he's embarrassed!

"Hm. I think you missed a spot." Lucifer said, swimming forward. Adam watched him with a furious blush as the archangel brushed a hand over his toned stomach.

"Wa? Missed? I didn't miss anything!" Adam protested as the two chuckled. "Why don't I show you then?"

Adam would have jumped if Lilith wasn't holding him so securely because Lucifer licked a strip of his stomach with a devious smirk. Lilith cooed and kissed his cheek as Adam hid his burning face to the side. He was really quite sensitive!

"No! Wa—mm! I—ah!" Adam protested but Lucifer kept licking up and up his body and Lilith bit his ear at the same time teeth found their way on a nipple.

"Ah~!" Adam moaned loud and clear. They continued exploring his body as Adam writhed in Lilith's grip. "Oh, isn't he just the cutest?" Lilith said as she bit alongside his neck. Adam's breath met her breasts as he tried to hide from Lucifer's piercing gaze.

"He really is," Lucifer replied. "Carry him to the bank? I think we'll need to give him the attention he deserves."

Lilith scooped up Adam easily and he hung in her grip loosely, far too lost in his pleasure to realize they were moving. Lilith sat down and placed Adam on her lap before kissing him.

Adam's eyes widened in surprise and she easily took control. Making sure that she held an arm around his waist, she brought him close.

They broke apart, a string of saliva the only thing connecting them as she stared deeply into his eyes. She smiled when he whimpered in confusion.

"Lucifer. Want to try? He's a good kisser." Lilith watched as Adam’s face was turned to the side and Lucifer kissed him deeply. She moaned. Watching as Lucifer dominated Adam was...exhilarating.

He also said he wanted to try having sex with him. Lilith was confused at first as to how but Lucifer explained it to her and she was determined to see it for herself.

Once they broke apart, Lilith shifted Adam until his face was lying on her breasts. He looked at her with a small and wobbly smile, his eyes glazed.

"Aw. Did Lucifer make you feel good, Adam? What him to make you feel even better?"

"Yesh..." Adam slurred making the two coo at him. Lucifer bent down and licked at his pink bud. Adam's eyes widened but Lilith was quick to shush him and allowed him to bury his face in her breasts as Lucifer tongue fucked him.

Moans and whimpers filled the air, even more so when Lucifer entered him using something much bigger.

"Ah! Ah! So...big!" Adam moaned out, drooling on Lilith. He slumped in her grip and Lilith smiled and kissed his forehead. "That's it. Be good for us. No more running away. Understood?"

Adam nodded, far too lost in the sticky folds of his pleasure to understand Lilith fully, but the First Woman was happy nonetheless.

"That's right Adam," Lucifer growled. "You're ours!"

"Y-yours?" Adam slurred out. "But...why?"

Lilith tilted her head. "Because we want you."

"Ah! D-didn't want me, mmmm, before...."

Lilith winced. She really did hurt Adam by avoiding him. Well, he won't have to worry about it anymore.

"Then how about we prove it to you that you're ours?" Lucifer said before increasing his speed.

Adam clutched onto Lilith and cried tears of pleasure. Lucifer must have been hitting that special place called the prostate. Apparently, it made Adam feel immense amount of pleasure.

"Lucifer! Lilith! Yesh! Yesh!" He slurred out and moaned high when he came. He passed out, his face slumping into Lilith's breasts making the First Woman hug him close. Lucifer slipped out and kissed Adam’s neck before kissing Lilith.

"Wow....he felt so good!" Lucifer said and Lilith nodded eagerly. She gently transferred him to Lucifer so he could hold their Adam. She stretched and began washing off the semen. "He's ours now," Lilith said as she sat back down. "Ours."

Lucifer nodded and they both shared twin looks of possessive desire. Adam was theirs and Heaven help anyone who tried to take him away.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lilith #adam x lilith x lucifer #send asks #yandere lucifer #yandere lilith

46 notes · View notes

fumifooms · 8 hours

Text

Here to share Hien thoughts today.

One thing that defines her is that she’s very capable. She’s the highest ranking in the squad after Maizuru so her confidence is in part because she does have that senior coworker &/ leader authority to her, confidence which is very much earned.

If I had to dig deeper at her beyond just what we’re shown I’d go with the angle that… She was born into the Nakamoto household and being a ninja servant, she grew up there, she doesn’t know anything else beyond the job, and it’s a job she does well, traines to get there. She’s here to do her work and she’s content with her life being how it is, not that she knows anything else. I don’t think she’d be self-aware about it all? Both because this really is pretty normal for Wa and it’s her normal, and because, while she doesn’t fold her spine or care for things like cosmetics, she does mold her attitude to be both capable and respectable. Her home, the Nakamoto household, is simultaneously a professional setting, it’s a 24/7 thing.

She’s critical of others, including her superiors and she doesn’t shy from it. Everyone shittalks Toshiro’s father regardless, but she also gets reprimanded by Maizuru for seeing Toshiro as vaguely unreliable, again likely influenced by their history as childhood friends, sasses Maizuru when she goes off into an anecdote again, etc. Even as a kid with Toshiro, doubtlessly after starting her ninja training already considering that Toshiro started his at ~5yo, she told him it was unbecoming of him to cry. She’s the one both with the job and the will to keep others in check, like when it comes to Izutsumi not doing her tasks, etc etc.

Her childhood friend relationship with Toshiro only grew more professional with time, to her surprise but seems to be more about the thought of it rather than it affecting her emotionally. With the way her extra comic lays it out, it seems she expected to become Toshiro’s mistress because of history repeating itself, in a "it is what it is" way more than anything, which is in line with the reading that she’s more go-with-the-flow and "anything that I’m tasked with I’ll accomplish, as a matter of course". She’s not really social, and keeps herself ready to act at beck and call. She’s not uptight but she’s hard-working. So yeah like, taking pride in your skills but also keeping your identity mostly molded for efficiency. She doesn’t really think about it all, she just is and she’s fine with things as they are, going from one task to the next.

I think it’d be neat to look at her relationship with her parents… They’re both servants at the Nakamotos’, so while maybe busy like Maizuru was at times while raising Toshiro but still taking the time to cook for him (which, parents that prioritize work over her would make sense with how she became how she is), I wonder what their relationship was like, how much time they spent together, how Hien feels like towards them… I assume they’re a part in molding what her definition of normal is, after all if they are longstanding servants of the Nakamotos she has that much less reason to question such a life. But like… Have they ever had hard-hitting discussions, or is she pretty distant even with them? Did they push her into working harder, or were more hands-off? Does Hien maybe want to earn recognition by being capable? Hien has a younger sister that she gets along "so-so" with…

Hien’s younger sister seems to smile more, be more social and a bit nonchalant, such and such. Could be a point of tension that points to the "so-so", that they’re dissimilar/Hien thinks she doesn’t behave right or takes things too lightly, that she’s "unreliable" maybe. Or it could also point to some difference in how they grew up… Like oh I bet there could be tasty angst with mertocracy and siblings favoritism with her family thrown in there… Having to earn the love, earn your keep, earn your spot in the hierarchy (in work and family both)

To me she shines best as a foil, like to Beni, but like. She’s got neat stuff going on If you’re wondering where I took half of what I referenced from I recommend looking at my masterpost on the Nakamoto party, info and extras are compiled

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #Hien #Meta #character analysis #fumi rambles #Working on a lot of different things on top of my actual work so things r slower than i’d like lately… Have this Discord ramble as apology #Meanwhile Beni’s attitude is very subservient and submissive. It’s interesting how little and how much difference they have simultaneously #On that front. Like you can’t really say Hien isn’t like a bodyguard ornament in the bg even if she shows more personality #Hienbeni fic will get finished one day I prommy #We’ve never seen Hien stressed which I think is a feat. Teach me your ways (probably repression)#Hien girlboss compilation #Ok Hien sister jealousy plot where she doesn’t know where the anger is coming from so she assumes it’s out of principle bc h slacks off #Hienbeni repressed anger power couple truly #So hmmm 3w2 enneagram Hien…? Beni I was thinking either 8w9 or 6w5… Maybe smth that becomes an 8 when stressed #You have to be pretty ballsy to specialize in explosives

23 notes · View notes

plumpkinsx · 10 hours

Text

denial .

context: where soobin finds a cute girl that wears skirts and bows for a living, with a cute face and cute attitude.. why wouldnt he wanna take that innocence out of her?

pairing: dom!soobin x virgin!fem!reader

warnings: corruption kink , petnames (bunny, baby) , soobin is a perv lowkey.. smut (mdni)

soobin liked a lot of things in a girl, if shes cute , short , has a little bit of attitude and shit a pretty face, and to soobins surprise you were exactly what his type was. you walked around in your cute skirts and stockings and fuck did you look so fucking cute and irresistible, especially when you slightly bend over and soobin takes a peek just to see your cute cunt clothed in pretty pink panties , he swore he could just take you right in that classroom. he always took a glance at you but rarely talked to you because ase he’d immediately pop a boner, until..

one day you and soobin were partners for a project in science , you looked at him when it was announced and saw he was already staring at you , a pink dusting your cheeks as you looked away. you cant react like that, you knew how soobin was and how he acted.. with the help of your friends they all told you that he was a blatant pervert. you didn’t believe them but part of you felt like the rumors were true so you stayed away

you were walking out of class until soobin approached you “yn… you wanna come over to work on the project?’” he said his sweet deep tone that made your knees weak even though it shouldnt ‘you cant fall for his charms yn.. get it togther’ the voice of your friend echoed in your head “um.. i.. think we could just do it in the library..” your sooth voice sent chills straight to soobins dick and he started to corner you “aw baby.. are you nervous?.. it’s alright if you come to mine.” he said gripping your hips and lifting your leg up to grind his boner on your cunt “soobin..! you cant i dont..” “dont what?… cmon just be good f’me okay bunny?.. ill take care of you real good..” he says as he unzips his pants and looks around “and.. nobodys even here anymore.. so we wont get caught.” he smiles and bites into your neck ripping a moan from you , his fingers pull your panties to the side as he slips his cock out “see what you do t’me bunny?… all this just f’you..” he jerks off and lines his dick up with your cunt. “it wont fit! please dont.. i..” “shh.. just take it.. ill make it feel good.” he slowly slips in and starts to move before you can adjust. seeing the tears well up in your eyes was a beautiful sight to soobin.. he would be lying if he didnt wanna push you to your limit even further.

#soobin #choi soobin #soobin smut #soobin hard hours #txt smut #zi’s writings !#txt hard thoughts

21 notes · View notes

volpe-kitsune-red · 3 days

Note

Y’know what would be funny? Lynx and someone who’s like “yeah I could fix her” but they’re full of hubris and will suffer for it

That would in fact be funny. So here is a short fic of that happening! I had a few ideas of how this could go depending on how you do the fixing, but I ended up going with this one.

My personal project

Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader that wants to fix her

TW. General yandere behavior, possessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, mild violence

You're not sure how long it's been but you started to notice some changes in your best friend's behavior, she's always been a bit too affectionate and lovey-dovey when it came to you but somehow it started feeling...strange? Weirdly possessive? A bit nerve-wracking perhaps?

If you told someone else they wouldn't see anything peculiar but you knew, you were her best friend after all, you knew her and her mannerisms way too well. You would have dismissed it as paranoia or your imagination going too wild if you hadn't caught her that day.

While you were out shopping you happened to witness her dragging one of your classmates into a dark alleyway. You were confused and worried so you hid behind the wall and eavesdropped on their conversation, if you could call it that. "I've seen you have grown quite close to my sweet friend, haven't you?" "Y-yeah? Is there something wrong with that?" A loud thud almost made you jump. "Oh yes, something extremely wrong in fact." She stopped speaking but before the other could respond she continued. "I want you to cut ties with them. Start a fight, avoid them, whatever method you feel is more appropriate, I don't care. Just don't talk to them, ever again, or..." You couldn't make out the rest of her sentence, all you could hear were whispers. Then a moment of silence. "W-what the fuck? You are fucking crazy! I don't care, I'll leave them alone, just- just stay away from me you- AH!" A moment later you saw your classmate bolting out of there, a panicked expression, and a bleeding wrist.

You reached the conclusion that your best friend had grown an obsession with you and she was dangerous, clearly unstable, and wasn't above hurting the people around you to get to her goal: having you to herself. You would think to call the police but you had a better plan. You would use your charms and brains to guide her on the right path and mold her back into the person you have always known, "fix her" if you will.

You tried anything you could that wouldn't cause her to suspect you knew of her blackmailing your friends and other, more extreme tendencies. You brought her to pet kittens at a cat cafe, showed her movies that promoted kindness and 'normal' love, and brought her along when you hung out with your other friends so she could familiarize herself with them too.

As you expected all your efforts started paying out, she was kinder to your friends, and her hugs didn't make you feel like she was grabbing at your skin instead of embracing it. It's been weeks since you had last seen her viciously stare at someone who was standing a step too close to you!

You were so proud of your plan working out, mentally bragging about your accomplishment, she found it quite amusing.

She had seen you sneaking away that day after you decided to so rudely spy on her. In all honesty, she was surprised that you hadn't confronted her about it. She was about to bring up the conversation herself but then you started acting so weird all of a sudden. She quickly caught up on what you were scheming. It kind of offended her at first, why were you trying to change her? If you didn't avoid her after what you saw it must mean that it wasn't that big of a deal to you, right? Besides, you should love her for what she truly is, not what you wanted to mold her into with that little project of yours.

However, your smug face when she first acted as if your silly ideas were working out was just too cute! You were just so adorable, planning out all your outings, searching for inspiring movies to watch, and sending her inspiring quotes in the morning. How could she shatter this pathetic dream of yours when you put so much effort into it, into her?

Eventually, she got tired of pretending, she still had her project to carry out and unfortunately, it had a higher priority than humoring yours.

You noticed something was wrong when a friend approached you one morning. "I-I'm sorry, we can't be friends anymore, bye!" They ran off before even ending the sentence. There was no doubt on what must have happened. Why? Everything was going so well! That's it, you'll just have to be more forward with her, that'll work.

"Come to my dorm this afternoon, we have to talk." Half an hour had passed since you sent the text and she was already knocking at your door. You invited her in and she carefully stepped into the room. "What did you want to talk about love? Is something troubling you? Is something wrong?" You sighed and walked closer to her. "Yeah, I wanted to talk about the way you've been acting. You see a while ago I saw you threatening someone and-" "Awww, is the game over already?" What? "What do you mean by that? What game?" Her smile was sweet but that strange sinister vibe that you worked so hard to wash off of her was back. "Your little project of course! I'm glad you had your fun darling but it did get a bit boring after a while. I'm used to pretending to be someone I'm not but it pains me to do that around you, so I won't anymore."

Her eyes turned red and your vision did too before both reverted to black and you felt your body going limp. Before you could smash your head into the pavement, she caught your falling body and embraced you. "I hope you don't mind being the one being played with this time, games are the most fun when you switch up the roles."

#yandere blog #yandere #yandere oc #lynx oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #vampire #yandere female #yandere vampire #yandere vampire x reader #female yandere x you #female yandere x reader #female yandere

24 notes · View notes

chirpsythismorning · 3 months

Text

Can we talk about how Jonathan might've been able to clock Mike simply because of what happened with him and Nancy in season two?

This will be a long post, so you might want to strap in or save it for later.

In Will and Mike's case, it would obviously be much different from Jonathan and Nancy's situation, given that you know, they're gay. But we still have Jonathan arguably going through a similar experience as Will, while Mike is going through a similar experience as Nancy.

In s2, we see Nancy confront Jonathan about how she waited for him before getting back with Steve, which is a revelation to him. Then they're at Murray's and she's struggling to say she loves Steve, after a handful of moments between them that felt like she might return Jonathan’s feelings. And you can clearly see it in his eyes, listening to Murray imply that they have feelings for each other, with him looking back and forth sort of in awe of what's happening, like he's starting to question if she might actually like him back.

Will doesn't have that same affordance as Jonathan to really hope, at least not anymore. Which is why these relationships in s2 and s4 end differently for these two brothers.

Based on all the signs he was seeing that Nancy felt the same, Jonathan decided to take the plunge to admit to Nancy how he felt, and at that same moment Nancy had the courage to show how she felt. In Will and Mike's case, Will wasn't ready to take the plunge to admit to Mike how he felt, at the same moment Mike didn't have the courage to show how he felt.

What's so painfully hilarious to me about all of this though, is that Jonathan arguably starts the season in the same shoes as most of the audience, where from his perspective, it's becoming obvious to him now that Will like's Mike, but that Mike does not feel the same way.

First at Rink-O-Mania, Mike appears a little uncomfortable upon hugging Will. Then as the happy couple continues on their adventure into Rink-O-Mania, he watches Will lagging behind moping. And then unfortunately he's out of commission for the rest of the evening...

But once he's sober and back to being an attentive brother the following morning, we see him watching them at breakfast, with Mike barely sparing Will a glance, all while Will is blatantly staring, almost like he's waiting for Mike to look back, only for Mike to get up and walk away.

All of these instances gotta be SCREAMING unrequited gay love to Jonathan. He's already gotten signs for years that Will is gay, these are now just the signs that are instilling his suspicions that Will has feelings for Mike. He could have easily interpreted their relationship in the early seasons as young best friends, with Will seeming to have a crush on Mike, and with them growing up and that potentially including Will's straight friend distancing himself from him because he doesn't feel the same. It's not the most unexpected thing in the world considering.

But then there's a shift.

Suddenly he's creeping up on them talking in his room. And we know he was listening in on the conversation because he brings up Owens when he sits down. As he's eavesdropping, he's probably thinking something innocent like Aww they're making up! And like, hey! Even if Mike doesn't feel the same, which is okay and entirely expected honestly, at least he still cares about Will enough to make things right after acting so out of character. Still, I'm not gonna lie, that sounded a lot like flirting to me--

Then he's knocking on Will's door like 30 minutes or less later only to find Mike and Will back on their bullshit. Mike suddenly isn't going out of his way to ignore or put Will on the back burner. In fact, he's on his bed and they're talking, again! The door is even closed this time, which is interesting. This has gotta be a good sign in Jon's eyes. Nothing to worry about! Right? Right...?

But then suddenly this shift continues, going in a direction he probably didn't expect.

I mean, this is literally an identical jancy parallel we have here with byler on the hood of the car, with Jonathan right there to witness it. Despite him maybe only now subconsciously picking up on the similarities between Will and Mike to him and Nancy here, he's at least taking note (I mean he's even got his gay map out and everything).

It isn't until the van scene happens, that I think Jonathan starts to genuinely consider his suspicions, which is that Mike might actually like Will back.

EVERY time we get a shot of Jonathan looking back at Will and Mike in the van, followed by a shot of his POV from the rearview mirror, we're faced with Mike looking at Will while Will is looking away.

As Jonathan is hearing Will confirm his suspicions about his feelings for Mike, he's simultaneously witnessing Mike not looking at Will with disgust, but something more akin to reverence. All of those moments in the van that we witnessed, including all the ways Mike looked at Will and everything that was said, Jonathan was right there.

And what's even more insane about this scene, is that it circles back to Jonathan as a character himself.

I remember when people were talking about how odd it was that we never saw Jonathan with a camera in s4. After 3 seasons in a row of making his passion for photography a big part of his identity, that part of him was apparently absent entirely this time around... But was it really?

This is the same guy that said, "Sometimes, people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more."

Jonathan might not have had his camera in s4, but this was without a doubt one of those moments where he captured something more.

Something that I also think get's highly overlooked about this scene, especially when it comes to Jonathan looking back at them, being followed by a shot of Mike staring at Will, is that he could see both of their reactions the whole time, from beginning to end. Will nor the audience had the affordance of knowing because Will was facing the other way at the end, while we on the other-hand were blurred from even having the chance, despite Mike literally being in the frame. But not Jonathan. He even lets us see what he sees, a few times, but not at the very end, which would have been nice after they didn't let us see Mike's reaction seconds before this.

Let's just stop right there for a second though and circle back to what I consider to be the first time Jonathan really picked up on Will's feelings for Mike, which was at the end of s3, in a sequence that is a little too relevant to the van scene if you ask me, given that they are almost direct parallels.

While these parallels are pretty spot on visually, they are also near spot on narratively when it comes to the evolution each of these characters are experiencing.

For Will in the first scene, it's sadness that he's moving away from his friends in Hawkins and also feeling like he's losing Mike, after what looks like him and El making up, which makes him scared he'll distance himself again. For Jonathan, it's sympathy for his brother who appears to have some very deep feelings for his friend, feelings he can't quite grasp yet but soon enough will.

For Will in the second scene, it's heartbreak that he has to accept that Mike will never feel the same, knowing that supporting his relationship with El (encouraging it honestly) will likely turn out just as it did last time, with him losing Mike all over again, for the last time. For Jonathan it's sympathy for his brother who has now confirmed his suspicions that the feelings he has for Mike are more than just that of a friend.

Given that this parallel reinforces the same feelings Will and Jonathan had in s3 to now, why would this not also reinforce those same feelings that Mike had in s3 to now?

In the first scene, Mike was visibly distraught, with dialogue from Hopper in the background applying a little too perfectly with what he was feeling in that moment, which was scared. He’s apparently back together with El now, despite them doing just fine as friends for the last 3 months, as well as him and Will just having finally gone back to them being on good terms again. But now, it’s like he’s right back where he started at the beginning of s3, feeling obligated to be the perfect boyfriend to El, and as a result, having no choice in his eyes but to distance himself from Will. Mike then walks into his house looking like a zombie, almost emotionless stepping into his mother's embrace.

Now, I say almost emotionless because it looks like Mike was trying to hold back showing how he truly felt in this moment. He's not crying like he did in s1 when he lost Will that first time. Time has passed and things have changed (he doesn't want things to change). And he's trying his best to keep it together. But the in-focus close-ups make it clear that he is definitely not okay.

What's so impactful about these parallels is that it presents the inner struggle both of these characters are having, both queer and experiencing doubts, but in different ways and for different reasons.

Will is the one who covers it all up with lies, hiding the tears in his eyes, because boys don't cry.

Mike is the one who has never cried to them, just to his soul (RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!).

If you actually try to get a gage on Mike's in-focus emotions in that first scene vs. his out-of-focus emotions in that second scene, well they're not that far off from each other.

We go from Mike smiling vibrantly at Will, to him now slowly turning away to look back down at the painting, with whatever the hell emotion this is...

It's near impossible to catch because of how out-of-focus it is, but looking a lot closer, it honestly appears like Mike is feeling something akin to sadness that he's trying to mask. For a moment it even looks like he turns his head to wince emotionally, only to correct himself.

And call me crazy, but these shots also low-key parallel each other. Mike looking down trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably, only to look up and meet eyes with someone whose witnessing it.

With each shot before this of Jonathan observing Mike looking at Will, with him showing all the emotions Will never got to see and everything else in between, I wonder what Jon saw this time? Probably another thing he didn't expect.

Can you just try to imagine the silence in this van, accompanied by Will's muffled sobs, and then try to imagine Mike turning to look down at the painting, only to sneak a glance, and then go right back to looking at the painting, IN SILENCE, and then try to tell me how the assumption that Mike didn’t notice Will crying makes any sense, like realistically?

Yeah me and Jonathan are confused too.

Right now, Jonathan's probably wondering why Mike was acting a little fruity and repressed during the painting reveal. And that although he may have a penchant for being able to 'capture the right moment', Mike is sticking with his story (despite all the stalling and doubt). He is 100% straight!

And so maybe this is where Jonathan tries to accept what is being presented to him as the truth, despite the contradictions in front of him. It's likely that despite the way Mike looks at Will and acts around him, in ways he would have assumed coming from Nancy in s2 would've been evidence that she felt the same, it probably doesn't apply to Mike.

Maybe Jonathan's ready to accept that it's a lot more likely Will is experiencing unrequited love as a gay kid growing up in a small town, the most predictable experience a gay kid could go through, and in contrast Mike just feels too bad to let Will down easy.

Or who knows, maybe Mike could still be a little bit gay too...

But it doesn't matter anyways. Mike seems to be adamant about this and so there's really nothing else Jonathan can he do besides tell his brother he'll be there for him no matter what. And so he does just that.

But then Mike just has to surprise him one last time.

For those that don't know, the line Mike gives here in his monologue was in part pulled from Will's monologue in the van. Most don't know this because this line didn't make the final cut for the van scene, but in the official script the writers posted, what we find is an almost a direct parallel.

Which makes the reaction shots of Will and Jonathan directly after Mike says this all the more epic.

From Will's end he was probably hearing Mike say this and just thinking 'Damn. Well, that's what you get for using your feelings to inspire Mike to profess his love to El.'

But from Jonathan's end, I don't think his outside POV of these events overlapping was nearly as naive as his brothers understanding of the events. Because why the fuck would Mike need to use Will's feelings to inspire him to profess his love to El in the first place? Is this what Mike has been struggling with? Really? Why before every moment Mike takes action in this scene, is Will's hand literally pushing him into it? Why is Mike being so dramatic about saying I love you, stuttering and rambling about her being a superhero, not saying nearly as meaningful of things as what Will said in the van?

And then it hits him.

Mike is reminding him a little too much of another Wheeler right now...

Nancy Wheeler, who was afraid of what would happen if she accepted herself for who she really was, leading her to retreat back to the safety of Steve. Because Nancy liked Steve, but she didn't love Steve.

And now here is Mike Wheeler, who has went from being incredibly distant with Will after reuniting with El, something that is very unlike the Mike he knew in previous seasons, to something more himself again after they make up, with him looking at Will with adoration after hearing his words in the van, only to turn away and look heartbroken. Mike who is now struggling to simply tell El he loves her with Will right behind him literally yelling at him to do it.

And now it's like all those little moments are starting to add up to Jonathan.

Suddenly all those signs he picked up on from Will when he was younger are now blending in with moments Will shared with Mike. It was Mike who jumped in after him and his mom's speech to Will in the shed in s2, with tears in his eyes recalling the day that they met (without being asked, let alone pushed to). And it's Mike who is now looking like he's at war with himself as he attempts to give encouragement to El, just like he did with Will in s2, but this time he needs someone to push him to do it, and that person just so happens to be Will. After just finding out about Will's feelings and also while assuming El wants him to love her that way still, Mike is stuck.

I don't think it's takes a genius to consider Jonathan is capable of realizing how fucked they all are in this situation.

As much as Mike isn't ready for a sleuth of reasons, Will isn't ready either.

This provides a huge contrast between the bylers ², because while Jonathan and Nancy went through a similar experience to Will and Mike, them being ready to accept it and act on it didn't involve nearly as many factors and risks. Will and Mike also have the added barrier that is homophobia.

Will's internalized homophobia lies in part with assuming Mike could never feel the same based on some of the words he said in their last two fights, with parts being painfully reminiscent of the things his dad and bullies used to say about him. These are also words that contradict Mike's own words and actions from the previous seasons, things that did once give Will hope. The shame and guilt that comes with falling for your best friend, who you now know will never feel the same after being foolish enough to believe it not too long ago, and who might not even want to be your friend anymore upon finding out the truth, is understandable. He can't have hope like Jonathan can. It's just not the same.

Mike's internalized homophobia lies with assuming El wants him to love her, along with their relationship being expected and socially acceptable from everyone around him. Though unfortunately for her he feels abundantly more in love in the moments he shares with Will. Despite trying to make it work with El as hard as he could, because she's amazing and all any guy could hope for in a girlfriend, he can't ignore the fact that the feelings he has for these two people are different. The shame and guilt that comes with you, a boy, falling for your best friend, who is also a boy, and who is starting to show that he feels the same, all while you can't muster up the courage to break up with your girlfriend, nor can you muster up the courage to tell her that you love her, not when she's begging you, dying or even just simply at the end of a letter, is pretty understandable too. He can't have hope like Nancy can. It's just not the same.

Spoiler: They were not ready.

PS: I'm still not over the fact that they low-key confirmed these events elsewhere in the story...

#byler #st analysis #pocketgate #lettergate #i'm aware this is a hot (big brain) take #but i'm like 76% sure mike understood will in the van scene #also why mike is gonna finally be dealing with some personal business in s5...#just want to add that this makes the scene at Nina hit harder #also #mike trying and failing to tell el he loves her or break up with her at surfer boy and stalling because he just can't fucking do either?#mike's face when will pushes him to profess his love to el right in front of him???#honestly i dont think mike would've gone through with his monologue if he didn't think this is what el wanted in large part #i think he thought that if he did break up with her she wouldn't need him at all anymore #or more specifically if told her the truth she might hate him for it and just not want to be in his life in the aftermath of that #this is why he struggled so much with being honest #it was either lie and suffer but get to keep her in his life most likely or tell her the truth and potentially lose her and still suffer #it's just that now he has literally no choice but to conform and be with her all while knowing it's not what his heart truly wants #the heart not being true to himself jumpstarted the apocalypse #everyone act surprised #byler getting jonathan’d in s5 can be something so personal #no but imagine jon getting even more signals mike feels the same 😭#and he tries to talk to will about it but will just gets upset like pls stop why are you saying this?#or imagine him talking about it subtly with Nancy and her being like no way #only to see it for herself #maybe then Nancy would try to talk to Mike about how he’s feeling #idk I could genuinely see byler just getting byler’d individually #but it’s clear at this point Jonathan is extremely suspicious #honestly all I think it would take is him having intel about their previous fights #if he found out mike defended his behavior by insisting that they’re friends…#jonathan would just be like… oh shit.. the first lie…

166 notes · View notes