#surely there's an anomaly SOMEWHERE that can get it for us

[kneelingshadowsalome]

We know Konig is more soft on women, but is it all women in general? For example, if some girl was hitting on him, would he be rough with her? Would he ever kill a woman? (if he's on the battlefield - I'm guessing he would if he had to). Is he chivalrous to all women or just his partner?

Yes, König is absolutely super soft to all women in general 🌸

The thing is, women are an exception, a beautiful, pure anomaly in König's worldview. He both worships them and views them as fragile. Women need to be protected from all harm. And at the same time... König goes feral every time he gets to taste and touch and fu–ahem, make love to a woman.

CW: Toxic!König. Sexism. Mentions of canon-typical violence and PTSD. Freudian madness.

Something just snaps, and he doesn't want to hurt his Engel... but he's a bit ADHD, and far too needy, goes a bit crazy every time he sees her. Women's soft skin and plump breasts and hot, wet, silky folds drive him insane. He just wants to drown himself in a woman, hide somewhere deep, somewhere safe, but can't because he's so big and has to act all tough. If he could, if only he was allowed, he would fall asleep every night with his cock buried inside that beautiful, warm, velvet softness.

So König's deeply embedded insecurity and attempts to seek safety are a combination that make him a little unhinged when it comes to women. That's why he can never get enough 😔 Also this man's horrible childhood has made him an adrenaline addict. Chaos is what he's used to, it feels familiar, so there's a risk that König might never settle into safety even if he finds it. He needs a high (which means he needs to kill and he needs sex.)

Female operators are skilled and tough in his eyes, and he trusts their abilities (kind of), but he would always keep a silent lookout, and try to keep them safe. Even if those women looked at him like he's a weirdo. He would always choose to help a woman over helping a man. Men can and have to survive on their own if a lady is in trouble. I know this wasn't asked but He would also never, ever hurt children.

If a woman tried to kill him (on the battlefield) he would be very professional about it. He wouldn't find joy in the killing, though. As odd as it may sound, König would prefer shooting to stabbing when it comes to neutralizing a female target. He wouldn't want to prolong their deaths, and it would make him extremely uncomfortable to knife a woman down. If he has to, he will do it, but the kill would be as quick and clean as possible.

The ones König has killed linger on the precipice of his mind as precious memories, sick fantasies made real. But the women he kills haunt him forever: those deaths sometimes give him nightmares. Especially if they brought even the tiniest bit of satisfaction...

...Because König does go into a mode when he's left with a firearm. He's so excited he sometimes drops mags simply because he's so enthusiastic. Thrill and anxiety mix when he's working, and he feels absolutely marvelous every time he fires a gun and gets to announce "Target down" in the comms. Better yet if he can go on a spree and destroy a whole room full of villains. Noticing later that one or some of them were women would give him a cold feeling in the gut and leave him with a worsening PTSD.

If a woman was violent in other circumstances, meaning outside work/warfare, he would simply seize them as gently and firmly as he can and try to calm them down. König thinks hitting women is just wrong. Even if they were trying to hit him (hitting on, as in flirting with him, now that's a different thing hehe. Not sure if this is what you asked, if so let me know!). It's unmanly and cowardly, and he would kill any guy who hits women, and kill them without mercy.

König's traumatic childhood has put him on a knight's quest to protect all women and children from harm. His mother has greatly influenced the way he sees women overall. At the end of the day, they're creatures who don't know how to defend themselves so he needs to save them.

But then again... These 'Knight in Shining Armor' fantasies should be taken with a grain of salt.

Because seeing a woman under him in a helpless state, looking back at him with cute, wet eyes while he's lodged deep inside is the best thing in the world in König's opinion. He would never deliberately go and hurt a woman... But why then does it feel so good when Engel squeals every time he goes a little too deep? (Always on accident, of course.)

#answered #könig headcanons #yandere könig #könig x reader #toxic könig discourse will singlehandedly deny my access to heaven i just know it #i shall never see the pearly gates

[spctrsgf]

to his office

prompt #351 from @/lyralit: 

“I could kiss you right now.”

“You’re very welcome to do it.”

word count: 3.8k

warnings: spidey!reader (tried to make it gn, lmk if i messed anything up!), language, my shitty spanish, innuendos but no actual sex

a/n: i saw atsv and miguel was SO SCRUMPTIOUS i had to write this

“HOBIE!” You yell at the aforementioned Brit, narrowly missing a chunk of some building that is being thrown at you. “I bloody know!” He yells back, swinging from the building next to you.

You nudge your head to the left as a signal to him, releasing a quick whip of web to maneuver behind a rough, brick building to land on the side of it. Hobie wasn’t too far behind, and Gwen was soon to your left as well. The three of you heave in heavy breaths, synchronous in your silence. The inevitable stomp of the angry anomaly of the week roams in search of the very people next to you as well as yourself. 

“She just does not give up, does she?” Hobie quips, filling the silence.

“Well,” Gwen adds. “We did make her angry.”

“We? You were the one who threw a brick at her, mate.”

“And who’s idea was it to do that?”

“It was a bloody joke!”

“It didn’t sound like it–”

“Okay!” You exclaim, cutting their childish argument in half. “Enough. Back to defeating the Wannabe Crab woman, okay?”

“Right,” Hobie answers, quick to drop his anger like usual. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“We gotta trap him somewhere, but this fucking city is endless. It’ll take forever.”

“I think we gotta get her hands tied,” Pavitr says from above, nearly desticking Gwen from the brick wall in surprise. “That’s where the power is, right?”

“Jeez, Pav,” You yelp, coming down from your initial shock. “We didn’t see ya there.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you, but seriously. I think we gotta tie her hands!”

“He’s right, that would solve all the cement throwing we got going on.” Hobie agrees, shifting to lean on the windowsill next to him.

You tilt your head. “Do ya think webs’ll be strong enough for that one?”

“Ours? Nah.” 

“True, but Miguel’s would do us a solid right now with all this.” Pav interjects.

“He’s right. We need those ever so strong webs your boyfriend has to do the job.” Gwen nudges you with her shoulder.

Your cheeks flame, and you’re eternally grateful for the silky mask you have on. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Gwen! We’re not– he doesn’t– oh my god,” You pinch the bridge of your nose as best you can through the mask. “Back on topic!”

“Seriously,” Hobie nods. “You should ask the lad to help us out.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

All you get is a shrug from him.

“Or you, Gwen? Or Pav?”

They all give you a look, a look that tells you exactly what they’re thinking.

“No. Oh my god, guys! Seriously? He doesn’t like hearing from me, anyways.”

That’s true, you firmly believe it, and you have ever since you first got to Nueva York. Being the person you are, you originally doted around the idea of talking to him, of engaging in a conversation. But, to be frank, he scared you shitless. He towered over your stature, a whopping 6’9” to your pacifying build. But, somehow you found yourself standing next to a nonchalant Hobie, watching his floating platform float impossibly slow towards the two of you after a mission. 

He’d been… you could tell right away that Miguel wasn’t the type of person to sugar coat nor was he very good at hiding the emotions that flew across his face, because oh my you felt it. You felt the trail of his scarlet gaze as he took in his first impression, you felt the razor sharp cut of disgust, felt the way his tongue ran along his accentuated canines as you rambled through your report. 

He’d dismissed you as quickly as humanly possible, opting to talk to the laid back Brit, the one who didn’t have to clear his voice every few sentences. Maybe it was a force of habit, you’d tried to reason as your head bowed to scurry out of the room. He has been working with Hobie longer, there has to be an ease between them. 

But, as time passed, Miguel remained the same. He tossed you a cold shoulder, and seemed to avoid your presence unless needed. You tried to shrug it off, to pretend like it didn’t hurt you as much as it did, but it was hard to pretend when the sting of rejection slapped as soon as he was brought up. Which actually happened a lot. 

You weren’t sure where Gwen had gotten boyfriend from that. Sure, you thought he was attractive. It was hard not to with his broad shoulders, a stark contrast to his (slutty) waist. There was something about his fangs that intrigued you, it was something you’d never seen before. And it wasn’t just the appearance that did it for you: it was that under all the anger and the rough exterior and the mask was a man, vulnerable and caring and wanting to stop what happened to him from happening to someone else.

He might be blunt and mean and pushy and all those things, but he came from a truly caring place, from a want to help. You could see that shine through in the way Gwen and Hobie and even Lyla talked about him, and you could see that in the mission notes he writes and in the slim amount of time that you were graced with his presence. 

“That’s why.” Gwen’s voice shakes you clear of the memories. 

“Wha?” You blink incredulously at her, like that would somehow shock you into understanding her sentence. 

She shoves your wrist, which hovers in front of you with the button to call Miguel in a booming orange. “Call him.”

You glare at her, but all that earns you is a tilt of the head and a not-so-encouraging punch from Pav. “Fine! Fine.”

You take a deep breath before hitting the call button. It sends off some sort of interdimensional wave towards Nueva York, and you buzz with a different type of frequency, suddenly nervous. The Miguel effect. Your brain blurts. Always nervous. You sigh and remind yourself that there are three other spiderpeople next to you as the call goes through, and Miguel’s face pops up unceremoniously in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Uh, well, you see–” You start, only to be rudely cut off by his attitude. “Get to the point. I don’t have all day.”

The blunt words don’t roll off your back like normal, maybe it was because you could hear the anomaly pound, inching closer. “We need help. We need your webs, they’re stronger and can hold this guy’s claws together. He’s been tearing up the city.”

“You’re supposed to be containing the threat, not me.”

“Miguel, if you don’t get your fucking ass over here right now, all four of us are gonna be dead.”

“Doubt it.” He sounds distracted, like he was observing something else in front of him.

“Seriously? You can’t take two seconDS..!” You cut yourself off to launch off the building as the anomaly slams her fist into the spot you were rested at just a few seconds before. 

You go to follow your partners in chasing the monster away from the buildings, to yell at the stubborn man currently still on call from the watch encircling your wrist, but your spidey senses perk up and then you’re swinging back towards the anomaly. Your eyes train on a woman, not much older than thirty, running for her life from the gnarly creature above her.

You don’t think. Normally, you’re all about thinking and finding the best course of action to try and save everyone, but you don’t now. Not when you’re so short on time, not when that woman could die. You dive, holding your arms out as you beeline to the poor woman. Her face turns from fear to relief when she sees you, reaching out to grab your hand as you scoop your arm around her waist and carry her to the nearest roof.

You’re off before she can say a word, and the glance back you lend her tells you that she knows exactly why you couldn't linger and conveys the thank you she couldn’t say to your face. It fuels you, and you move quickly, pulling the anomaly farther and farther from the people. “Are you a quiet one, huh?” The anomaly’s voice is low and gravelly. “I’m always up for a little banter.” You shoot back, taking a quick left to navigate to where you see your partners waiting, hidden and ready to attack. 

“Alrighty then, let’s banter!”

“Let’s.”

“Are you expecting me to now spew out my whole plan and sob story, cus it ain’t happening.”

You shrugged. “Nah. Most of you don’t anyway.”

“We don’t?”

“No,” You shake your head, coming to a stop. “We usually have you caught by that time.”

Right on cue, Pav, Gwen, and Hobie shoot webs out, attempting to contain the anomaly. You realize, as you're adding your own webs to the mix, that Miguel must’ve hung up the phone during your little fright. “What happened with the boss? We getting that bloody help we need?” Hobie calls out, tightening his grip. “Dunno!” You call back. “Maybe he hung up.”

“Call him back, eh?”

“I- I can’t! This is harder than it looks.”

“We know!” Gwen screeches, voice strained.

“What do we do, guys?” 

“Try and hold on.” Pav’s voice is uncharacteristically dim, lacking its normal cheer.

His tone sinks into your stomach. “What if we don’t–” 

“You will,” Miguel’s voice crackles from your wrist. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Uh–” You risk a look around as the anomaly struggles with a scream. “Open field. I can see an ocean from here, and there’s mountains to my right. Actually, I think it’s a river– we’re at a bend in it.”

“Got it. I know where you are, I’ll be there in a minute tops. Stay on the phone with me, okay?” 

“Will do.”

“He won’t be here in time.” You look up at the anomaly, her deep green eyes locked unsettlingly with yours. She yanks hard this time, and you see Gwen nearly topple and Hobie’s footing slip slightly, giving her arms more wiggle room. “Yes he will.” Your jaw sets as you shoot another web to wrap around her wrist, yanking her down onto her knees.

“You’ll lose. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Spiderman. Losing.”

“Crazy? Yeah, cus it won’t happen.” Gwen grunts from above, struggling to keep a clean facade.

“I’m almost there, cariño, hold on.”

“I am, we’re fine–”

And then you’re not. Because the anomaly bursts up in a spur of movement, effectively breaking the confinement you four had put on her. She runs forward, taking a straight track for you. You leap up, swinging away as quickly as you can. You pick through the strain on your forearms, through the cloud of fear in your head. You try to stay in the same general area you told him you’d be in, but it’s hard with the anomaly on your heels. 

“Miguel! Help, she’s chasing me, I can only keep her away from me for so long–”

“I know, I know, I’m coming. Hold on.”

But you’re not responding anymore. The anomaly swings a mighty claw straight into your abdomen, effectively sending you into the ground. Pav lets out a scream, sliding to catch you before you can slam into the grass, and Miguel knows something is wrong. You can hear his yells and Pav’s telling you to respond, but the pain in your side is excruciating and your brain feels like mush and your mouth is dry like sandpaper and your vision is tunneling into black and you try to speak but–

…

It’s very dark.

That’s the first thing you notice when you come to. It’s nice. But there’s an off putting feeling about it, like something’s lurking in the dark, and then you’re itching to turn on the lights so you can see something. “You have something covering your eyes, you do realize that.” Miguel’s smooth tone slides in from the left, decorating across the bland abyss.

Ah. So that was the problem.

Your arms feel foreign as you reach up to pull the fabric off your eyes, exposing you to the room you were in, only slightly brighter than before. “Lyla said the mask was supposed to help you heal better,” Miguel starts, and you can’t quite bring yourself to look at the man next to you quite yet. “I listened, she’s better at this than I am.”

“Am I not in the infirmary?” You question, before frowning at the way your voice sounded. You sit up, clearing it a few times.

“You were, but I moved you.” 

“Why?”

“I didn’t want you in there.” He answered bluntly, yet it lacked any substance at all.

“Why?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You chuckled dryly. “Miguel, you moved me from the fucking infirmary to your office. I think you owe me a damn explanation.”

“No.” He turns away, slinging a web out to launch him onto his floating platform.

“Miguel–” 

“No.” The orange screens encircle him, effectively slamming his hard tone into the flow of conversation that wasn’t really flowing anymore.

You frown, half sat up in the bed that he’d placed you on. You’re frustrated, you don’t understand what’s been going on between you and him. He hated you. You’d previously established that, his vibrant reaction to your question confirmed it. But he saved you. And he moved you into his fucking office. 

Your head swims with this new information, and you flop back down unceremoniously onto the bed. Your head tilts automatically to him again, the fiery red in the bleak, monotone room. His back is to you, and he’s furiously tapping at something on one of his many screens. The boldness of his stature, the way he’s standing is so unwelcoming that you’re now sure he never really wanted you there at all.

You sit up and hop out of the bed as quietly as you can, even though you know he can probably hear you in the silence that enveloped you both. Yet he doesn’t react, he doesn’t turn and yell like you thought he might. He stayed stoically and almost stubbornly facing his screens, so you turn and slip towards the door.

Fucking say something, Miguel.

He doesn’t. You don’t know what you expected anyways. 

So you continue your walk, your path out of noose that the room brought. Yet, steps to the hallway seem harder and harder to make, like the hallway is getting longer or maybe you’re moving a lot slower than you normally do. You move to shoot a web, hoping to gain traction and move somewhat faster, but you can’t quite get your aim right– 

And then your vision is fluctuating and you start to feel unbalanced. You’re not moving. You’re moving your feet, but you’re not going anywhere. Your brain is fuzzy and the ground is getting closer than it normally is- you don’t remember being this short? “Ay, cariño!” Is exclaimed from behind you, and then something’s grabbing onto your back and pulling you back upright.

Miguel has his arm wrapped around your waist as you wobble, guiding you back to the bed and then lifting you up to sit on it. Your hands come up to rub your eyes, trying to get them to refocus. They blur and then unblur, finally resting to take in your wobbly hands, which are held out shakily in front of you. In response, you twist your hands together just enough to feel the pain of it, reminding you that you were in fact awake and aware. 

“Are you okay?” It’s then that you realize that Miguel is still in front of you. He’s got you caged in, blanketing you in his grand shadow. Your neck cranes up to reach his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let your eyes linger during their ascent. When you meet the scarlet of his irises, you’re taken aback by the level of concern in them. Like he was actually worried about you. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, tilting your head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He scoffed, but didn’t move away. “I’m not worrying.”

“If there’s one thing you’re bad at, Miguel, it’s lying.”

“I am a great liar.”

“Oh?” 

“Dios mio, cariño, yes.”

“What does that mean, anyway?,” You question, rocking backward to tuck your feet underneath your legs. “I tried to get Lyla to tell me, but she will not let the secret loose.”

He freezes. “Nothing, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“You do realize I can just search it up, right? Would you rather me find out from the reach of the internet?”

“Not really, what if you just don’t–”

“Miguel.” You rise onto your knees, leveling your gaze with his own and resting a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re saying you’re in love with me or something.”

“Well–”

“Right, cus that would be like…” Your words tumble over him, your brain too keen on keeping your feelings, your delusions to yourself. “Te amo? Te quiero? I’m not sure…”

“Either one.”

“Yeah, so it’s not one of those, so what is it?”

He takes a deep breath, looking slightly troubled. His face twists his face up like he’d just bit into a lemon, and then you’re panicking again.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that–”

“It’s a term of endearment,” His voice stops your apologies in their tracks. “It literally means affection, but when you use it as a nickname it’s more like sweetheart or darling. Dear is another way to say it, but you get the point.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sorry about that–”

“Don’t be,” Your head tilts with his, following the way he turns his gaze away from you in embarrassment. “I like it.”

He meets your eyes again, curiosity and hope strung in his vibrant eyes. “You do?”

“Yeah. The way you say it is so satisfying, if that makes sense.”

“You like when I speak Spanish, huh?”

You nod, and suddenly you’re the one hiding your face from his smirk. 

“Querido, mírame.”

“Miguel–”

“Ahora. I won’t ask again.”

You sigh, glaring at him. “I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn,” He leans down and then innnn, so that the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I know you can do it.”

“Do you?” Your brain is screaming at you, making you even more painfully aware of his proximity to your face, yet you somehow manage to clearly deliver the line. 

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s only cus I’ll have the best teacher. You.” You hit his nose with your finger, catching him off guard.

“I am happy to take that title.” 

“Good.”

He hasn’t moved. Even as the room fades into silence, he hasn’t moved. He’s still so close, like you could lean in, barely four inches, and you’d be kissing him. You can smell him, a tinge of metallic blood yet so earthy and centering. It’s intoxicating: your brain is swimming and you're struggling to keep your head above the water. 

Cariño. Sweetheart. A term of endearment. You still haven’t quite wrapped your head around that, not that you’ve been given much time to mull over it. Was that him telling you that he liked you, more than a friend? Was that a normal thing, using that term? You didn’t know, but you had a feeling that would be the best confession from him you were getting, if he meant it that way at all. You were gonna have to make the leap yourself.

“Everything okay?” His hand lands on your shoulder, a gentle reminder that you’d been staring into nothingness for what must’ve been a painfully long time for him. “Yeah,” You stumble to regain your words. “Sorry, I-” 

“Spaced out.”

“Yeah.”

He nods, smiling just enough so you could see his fangs peek out. You were caught.

“Migu–”

“I could kiss you right now, you know that?”

“Huh?” stumbles stupidly out of your now slack jaw.

“I could kiss you. You’ve been staring at my lips for the past few minutes, mi amor, whether you realize it or not.”

“I have? Oh my god.”

He chases your drifting gaze, just like you did with his. “It was cute.”

“Cute is a word I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth.”

“Cállete, you hear me? Shut up.” 

You giggle, grabbing his hand and sliding it up to fit comfortably on the back of your neck. “You wanna kiss me, O’hara? You’re very welcome to do it.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Now he’s leaning in, closing in those four painstaking inches to lock lips with you.

And it’s insane. Showstopping. Any kisses you had before then? Not even a fucking kiss. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first– mainly you, you suppose– but it worked itself out. Miguel must’ve really gotten into it, because once you swear he nipped at your bottom lip with those fangs of his, just hard enough to draw blood. Your hands, in the meantime, explored his mass of brown curls, previously smoothed back but released by your fingers.

His own hands nestled themselves in your hair, tugging on it just enough to draw a sigh out of you. He tastes like blood– surely yours– yet ever so homey. You lean into him inadvertently, so content in the moment. The rational part of your brain reminds you that you’d probably suffocate if you kissed him for much longer, but nothing in you cared very much about that fact at all. 

In the end, it’s him who takes a dip for air, who drags your face off of his reluctantly to gasp softly. You do the same, resting your forehead on his toned chest. His hand, still in your hair, guides you gently back up, just so he can absorb your appearance and vice versa. It’s crazy, taking him in like this. He looks so out of control, his hair disheveled and his lips puffy and his cheeks red, releasing air in quick puff puffs. You’re sure you’re not much better looking.

“Out of breath already?” He says, head tilted with a goofy sort of grin adorning his face. “I’m regaining it currently, don’t tease.” You puff back at him, dropping your head back onto his chest.

“Oh, but teasing you is the best part.”

You stab a finger into his side. “Be quiet.”

“If you fare like this, mi alma, you won’t last very long where we’re headed.”

Your head whips up, equal parts confusion and frustration. “First of all, I’m fine. Second of all, what?”

“C’mon.” he pulls you off the bed.

“Are we sure I can even–”

His arm is around your shoulders, hand clamped tightly around it to squeeze you reassuringly. “I got you.”

“Thanks.” Your smile towards him is mushy, but you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to care.

“De nada,” He smiles back, and you mentally note to tease him about his softness later on. “Let’s get all the way to home plate, huh?”

“Let’s.”

feel free to drop by my inbox anytime, everyone, before i run out of ideas

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv #oscar issac #oscar issac x you #oscar issac x reader #oscar issac characters #oscar issac imagine #oscar isaac x you #spiderman #spiderman: across the spiderverse

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 14 The Predator

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: With Miguel in full rage mode, it’s up to you to save the day . But what happens after you finally stop the anomaly?

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, blood kink, biting, feral Miguel, borderline marking (don’t fucking look at me) fingering, oral f receiving , rough sex, possessive Miguel, waxing poetic about cumming (I said don’t fucking look at me!!!)

A/N:  Sorry this took a while! My only excuse is that I was WAY over thinking this chapter and I also started another fic because why not. I hope this being absolutely filthy makes up for the wait....

Previous - Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 14

The Predator

This must be what mice feel like under the gaze of a cat. Like a rabbit that wandered into a foxhole. A spider caught in her own web— completely helpless.

The man you admire stalks towards you with inhuman, jerky movements. Whatever Kraven had poisoned him with had burned through his power suppressants and left you with the part of him you still didn’t fully understand. The part of him you both feared— now walking free.

He’s right in front of you now, your head hanging directly at his eye level. He leans closer and you shiver as you feel his hot breath against your neck. You need to break your restraints, you need to move but panic freezes over your limbs.

“Miguel,” You say softly, “It’s me. I-it’s me. Fight it.”

Your spider-sense is ringing in your ears and you’re not entirely sure what it’s telling you. You can only assume it’s doing the same for him.

“Arañita,” He draws back, his piercing red eyes shooting right through you. You can see the battle raging behind them. The struggle within himself. He recognizes you, yes, but is he in control?

Mocking laughter takes his attention away from you. Kraven is perched in a tree just above. 

“There you are,” he says pridefully, “There is the beast worthy of my prowess. Let the true hunt begin!”

Miguel roars, leaping after the crazed hunter. His movements are more powerful than you’ve ever seen. You feel every reverberation of his powerful claws as he scales the trees. You swear you hear the massive redwood crack through its center as he does so. His every move was lethal— deadly. A killing machine. 

And it’s exactly what Kraven wanted. 

The hunter bounds from branch to branch again, giving Miguel chase with a chorus of maniacal laughter. He was enjoying this way too much. And here you were, dangling by your own webs— helpless.

Miguel brought you here to help him, to be a team. So you’re going to help him.

You manage to swing yourself to the tree trunk the snare trap was attached to. You stand horizontally, your feet easily sticking to the bark. With yourself anchored down it was much easier to get the proper leverage to break your webs. With one final flex, you shrug them off and immediately follow Miguel and Kraven. 

You couldn’t see them anymore but they were making enough noise to alert the entire forest. Several small critters run through the branches in the opposite direction. Follow the sound of breaking twigs and masculine roars and you’d be on their tail in no time. Who needs a spider-sense. 

Even in the panic you still find yourself on high alert with your surroundings. Kraven had laid traps that stopped both of you already. Who knows how much of the forest he boobytrapped. Who knows if Miguel could even sense them anymore in his state. 

This wasn’t just about catching an anomaly anymore. This was about protecting Miguel. Protecting him from himself. You have no idea how you’re going to do it but you have to get them separated, get Kraven in a cage, and get Miguel calm and somewhere safe. 

You’re fucking Spider-Woman. This should be easy… That’s what you tell yourself anyway. 

They’re fast but you still manage to catch up. You keep a loose pursuit a few dozen yards back. The two men too distracted with fighting each other to bother with you. If you keep stealthy you can work this situation exactly like the Electro mission. Miguel distracts while you capture. You don’t have any of the cyber traps but you could still web him up. At least long enough to kick him into a portal.

If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

Miguel grabs Kraven’s ankles and they both plummet to the forest floor. Perfect. You shoot to the upper branches. With the higher vantage point, you’d have a clear shot with your webs. Luck seems to be on your side for once in this whole fucking ordeal. 

They grapple and wrestle wildly around the ground. You just needed a split second of an opening and you’d have him. It’s all you needed— Just a second.

Miguel pins the hunter to the tree you’ve perched yourself in. The force of the impact ripples all the way up the trunk. The wood groans and cracks in protest. They haven’t spotted you, your form still concealed by the branches.

This is it. It’s your chance to end this. He’s right there. Miguel raises a mighty claw to the hunter and you ready your spinnerets.

It happens all within a fraction of a second. 

You shoot a web. Kraven twists out of Miguel’s grasp just as his claw comes down. Kraven slips away with practiced ease and Miguel slices through the tree. With your web's original target now gone, it explodes on the ground at Miguel’s feet. His gaze shoots up directly to you— A gaze completely devoid of the man you know.

Well fuck.

He begins to crawl to you, Kraven completely forgotten behind him. A thunderous snap rings out of the wood from Miguel’s claw marks at the base. The tree gives one final groan before cracking under its own weight. The tree begins to tip backward, yet Miguel seems unbothered by it. He had a new target. 

Double fuck.

“Forget her!” Kraven yells as he pulls Miguel back, “I will deal with her next.”

You leap from the falling tree, swinging yourself to safety on a nearby branch. The two men below you continue their constant power struggle, seemingly unbothered by the falling giant next to them. Seems like Miguel took Kraven’s advice. He’d forgotten about you. 

You don’t know much about how Miguel works when he’s in this state. He didn’t have a strategy or the same carefully planned movements you were used to. It was only rage. Unbridled rage. 

There were only the things in front of him. Whatever caught his attention. That’s what he could focus on. That’s what he was capable of. You couldn’t take a passive role here and just wait for an opening like you planned. If you had any chance of getting to Miguel, you still had to separate them. 

What better way to do that than to forcefully insert yourself.

“Please be able to sense me coming, big guy,” You shoot a web across the clearing where the two were fighting. You grasp it tightly and take a deep breath that comes out more as an irritated sigh, “Tallyho.”

You swing. 

Your prayers are answered and Miguel seems to sense you, ducking out of the way of your dramatic entrance. Your feet make contact with Kraven’s face, your full momentum sending him flying several feet. You roll to a stop, poised perfectly between the two men.

You’re back to Miguel. You can feel his rage. His anger. His confusion. You slowly turn to face him, peeling off your mask as you do so. There was no need for it here. You feel the shared buzzing in your head amplify as recognition flashes across Miguel's face, just for a moment. He feels it too. Primal instincts ruled him now. The spider-sense tells him what your words never could. 

We’re on the same team. 

“Stupid girl!” Kraven shouts behind you, “You interfere with destiny!”

“You’re interfering with reality, so I think you have me beat.” You spit back. 

“Do not come between a hunter and his prey.”

“A little late for that, buddy.” You scoff. 

Miguel roars, bounding over you and directly for Kraven. The hunter leaps for him too. 

Within a fraction of a second, you make a decision. Maybe you couldn’t separate them like this, not when instinct ruled the fight. Not when they were so much stronger than you. If you couldn’t get them apart then you had to move them together, just like when you brought Miguel back home from his dystopian mission all those weeks ago. 

You don’t have to play by The Hunter's rules. Take Kraven out of his element and force him into yours. Get him in chains then help Miguel. And the plan was still the same as the old one… forcefully insert yourself.

Time seems to speed up again and the two predators are bounding for each other right above your head. In mid-air, they’re the most vulnerable. You leap between them, a portal springing from your wrist as you do so. All three of you tumble through together and blip across reality.

The trip back to the tower was long considering the position of this universe in the multiverse. You could jump to most realities in a matter of seconds, here you would be traveling through wormholes for just over a minute—a minute with these two raging men. An eternity by multiverse travel standards. You could do it. You could keep them under control. It’s only a minute. 

You’re quite literally trapped in the chaos. Both of them seemingly unbothered by the sudden change of environment continue fighting while you struggle to get free from the tussle. Not the most ideal situation but at least you’re out of the booby-trapped forest. Once you’re in the tower everything will be okay.

It’s only a minute.

Sandwiched between the two raging men, you kick both your feet as hard as you can, effectively using your body as a crowbar. You spiral through the wormhole with Kraven, Miguel trailing further behind. They’re both in front of you now, Kraven crawling to get closer to you and Miguel clawing to get closer to Kraven. 

You take advantage of the newly established distance and ready your webs at Kraven. If you could subdue him just a little, this whole thing would be so much easier. You shoot but he’s still too quick. He grabs the web and pulls you into him. It’s moments like this you wish you had claws.

He pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing every ounce of air from your lungs. You swear you hear bones crack.

“You couldn’t say out of it could you, dorogoy!” He growls in your ear, “You want this to be your fight so bad? Fine.”

Just past his shoulder, you can see Miguel is nearly on both of you now, claws ragging and fangs bared. With a loud grunt of effort, Kraven quickly flips you both around. Before you even have time to guess his plan, you feel it— a stabbing pressure in your neck and warm blood trickling down. Movements too fast Miguel couldn’t stop himself until it was too late.

He’d bitten you, venom now injecting into your veins. Paralizing venom meant for Kraven.

Miguel removes his mouth from your shoulder and the instant he does your spider-sense explodes in your head. Fear, confusion, anger, rage— you cycle through every emotion in an instant as venom starts to pulse through your body. In the slew of feelings, one stands prominent. Panic. Sheer panic.

You can’t see his face behind you, but you can feel him— the same as you. Panicking, even amid his animalistic rage he’s still a man. Still your Miguel. You swear you can hear his thoughts screaming in your head.

What did I do? What did I do?!

A mocking chuckle starts in Kraven’s throat again. You don’t want him to have it, a moment of victory. He hasn’t stopped either of you. Not yet. You still have precious seconds before you’re paralyzed and useless. Seconds you won’t waste.

You swing your head forward, colliding with Kraven’s. You feel his nose crunching under your forehead. It’s enough for his grip to loosen just enough. You leap from between the two of them, webbing Kraven’s hands together in the process. You pull him forward away from Miguel, now left trailing behind again. 

The exit portal sneaks up on you— your one minute is up. You burst into the 2099 reality dragging the Kraven anomaly on a leash. You pull him from the portal and swing him into the closest wall. You’d teleported to Miguel’s lab. You can feel your brain fogging. Limbs weakening. Contain him— now. That’s all you had to do. 

You quickly look around for anything you can use. By some stroke of luck, a pile of cyber traps sat on a nearby desk. You throw one without hesitation. Before Kraven can get back on his feet he’s trapped in a glowing cage of energy. 

It’s done. The bots can take care of the rest. It’s over.

Finally, Miguel bursts from the portal behind you. Oh yeah, you think briefly.

It’s not like last time though. He’s not all ragging claws and gnashing teeth. He sits there, crouched down and completely still. The portal blips from existence and an eerie silence fills the room. It’s then that you notice something. You feel— fine.

The effects of Miguel’s venom are nearly instantaneous, you’d seen it before, yet here you stand completely okay. You lightly touch the wound on the apex of your shoulder and neck and pull your hand away. You don’t know what you expect to see, maybe neon green mixed with crimson red, something alien and inexplicable, but it’s just blood. It’s just blood and you’re just fine. 

But what about Miguel?

He still sits there, unmoving. You dare to take a step closer. “Miguel?”

“Don’t” he growls, his shoulders tensing. “Finish it.”

You glance down and see his claws digging into the floor, pulling up the metal paneling. He’s trying to get himself under control. You quickly turn to grab a dose of his suppressants when that fucking voice stops you.

“Oh, this I did not expect,” Kraven laughs from his small prison in the corner. “A viper can not poison one of its own. And here I thought I’d get you out of the way. You two are of the same making, no? Well, what does this mean?”

“Shut. Up.” You sneer at him. You hear Miguel’s claws digging deeper into the floor— holding himself back. 

Don’t let him provoke you.

“Perhaps this is still your fight, dorogoy,” the hunter tuts, “A shame I’m not part of it, though.”

Miguel turns to him, his face completely cast in shadow. Only the reds of his eyes seen from the dark void, “She said… shut up.”

Kraven’s expression shifts. His eyebrows raise in amusement, a sickening smile curving in the corners of his mouth. “Oh. Oh, I see. Not a fight but… perhaps something else. You both reek of it. Desire.”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Miguel heaves. You feel like you can’t move.

“You’re part of her now, flowing through her veins. You’ve claimed her,” His disgusting words send shivers down your spine, “Or have you claimed her already, beast?”

The tension snaps. Miguel hurdles toward the cage. Claws and blades clash against the force field with an ugly static crack. He moves so fast his arms are almost a blur, struggling to break past the barrier. A raging frenzy to get closer to his target. Kraven doesn’t move, standing still with that gut-wrenching smile never once faltering. He didn’t win the fight, sure, but he’s enjoying taunting Miguel. 

You’ve decided you’ve had enough of this madness— from both of them.

“Miguel!” you scream so loud it echoes through the entire lab. Miguel freezes, glancing over his shoulder at you. You should be afraid of him, and maybe some part of you is, but you know who he is. The man underneath all of this, “He’s not worth it.”

He remains frozen. You’re not sure if he’s debating if you’re right or not— or if he’s just trying to fight the animal inside. Eventually, he steps away with a loud grunt, crawling back into the shadows. 

A faint sigh of relief passes through your lips, “Lyla, get him out of here.” you call to the room. Several bots crawl into view and begin taking the cage out. 

Kraven’s eyes were glued to you, that sickening, amused smile still there, “Do svidaniya, dorogoy.” You hold back the urge to spit in his direction until the door shuts behind him. 

He’s gone. Now just one more thing to deal with. 

You grab the injection gun from his desk. Miguel sits in a dark corner facing the wall. You approach him cautiously, dampener serum in hand. 

“Mig?” You coo softly, “Let’s take care of you.”

“Leave it.” He growls through gritted teeth, “I’ll… do it myself.” 

“You can’t,” You take another step closer. 

He whips around, a spine-chilling sound rumbling from his throat. “Just… go.” his words dripped with rage. With something inhuman. He’s fighting so hard to be present. 

You can’t just leave with him like this. How can he expect you to just walk away now? Even though you're annoyed by his insistence, you understand why. He’s still ashamed. He’s scared of what he’ll do and with good reason. 

I don’t want you to see me like this.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to just leave him.

“No.” You stand your ground. “You don’t scare me, Mig.”

“I should,” He stands, lumbering toward you, massive arms hanging low at his sides. Each heavy step closer sends a shock wave up your body, “Look what happened.”

He grabs your injured shoulder forcefully. He stares down at the fresh bite mark, blood still weakly dripping from it. There was almost no pain with it anymore, but maybe… something else.

You feel the spider-sense stir between you. 

“But it’s okay,” you assure him softly, “I’m okay. Nothing happened.”

“But we didn’t know that,” He grits out, “We didn’t know you’d—” 

A pained moan escapes his lips and he steps away. You feel it rising— the heat in your belly. 

“Please,” he whimpers, “Just go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You stand still for a moment, debating if you really should. If you even could. Is something calling you to stay with him or is it just your own selfish desires?  You decide you don’t care. You feel it now stronger than you ever have. The need for him. His smell. His taste— everything.

You step towards him again, into the shadows. You place your hand on his chest, letting the touch linger for a moment. You feel his heart beating at a record pace. 

“You could never hurt me.”

It all comes crashing down, both of your paper-thin resistance. He attacks your mouth hungrily, bringing you both to your knees. You drop the injector gun, leaving it long forgotten on the floor. He crawls on top of you, you cling to whatever part of him you can. 

It’s a frenzy. A feverish, lustfully brawl you want to surrender your entire body to. In a way you already have. The sense sings and moans with the two of you in a way it never had before. Something deep and primal and sick— you loved it. 

His mouth is on your neck, trailing across your throat to the bloody mark he’s made. He pauses when he gets to it, his lips hovering just above the bloody bite. Your skin pricks in anticipation, for what exactly, you don’t know. 

He licks a long, hot stripe across the mark before bringing his mouth completely down on it. You don’t expect it.  Electricity shoots through your entire being. You grab at his head, not to pull him away, but to push him closer— impossibly closer. He moans at your encouragement, drinking from your neck like it’s the holy grail itself. 

You fucking love it. Why do you love it? Why do you want him so badly this way? Questions that shoot through your head at warp speed but you decide you don’t really care to answer any of them. You don’t care about the why anymore. You just want him.

He comes off you with a gasp, blood smearing his mouth. His eyes are lidded and dazed as he looks down at you. The look sends a wave of arousal straight to your core— and it doesn’t go unnoticed. A predatory spark flashes across his face and he descends on you again.

His massive hands wrap around your midsection, squeezing roughly. You can feel him trembling. He drops his forehead to yours, “Do you feel it, Arañita?”

“Yes.” you breathe. 

He closes his eyes, breathing you in slowly, “Tell me to stop.”

Your hands come up to his chest again, his suit fading away in an instant. His breathing is heavy and ragged. You could stop this all now. You should stop this— but—-

“Never,” you pull him into another kiss, blood still fresh on his lips. He moans into you before taking control again. 

He turns you around onto your hands and knees, ripping a sloppy line down the back of your suit. The material falls away, exposing you to him entirely. He grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back and licking a long stripe up the length of your spine. The sensation nearly makes your knees give out. 

“Oh god,” you hear him murmur against your skin, “Look at you. Fucking look at you.”

“Miguel, please,” You whine. You need him. You fucking need him now. 

“Poor thing,” He growls, fingers ghosting over your waiting cunt. He pushes one in, slowly. You bite your lip, suppressing the moan he’s pulling out of you, “So wet for me. Always so goddamn wet for me. Such a good girl.”

He adds another finger and the air in your lungs dries up into a breathless gasp. He pumps into you, once— twice— Three times. Lude wet sounds fill the massive space. He rips his hand from you, and you almost scream at the sensation, the sudden emptiness. Then you hear it again, lustful, sickening wet sounds followed by muffled moans— He’s licking his fingers clean of you. 

His wet hands grab your hips roughly with a loud slap. He pulls you back towards him, dragging you along the floor. You preen under him, arching your hips higher. 

“So filthy,” he growls, squeezing your hips to the point of bruising.

He comes down on you again. You scream when you feel his tongue dragging through your slick folds, stopping just at the edge of your seam, the bridge of his nose nudging at your hole. He greedily laps at you, pulling the most sinful sounds from your throat. You fall on your forearms, displaying yourself even more for him. The position was so vulnerable yet so delicious. You were at his full mercy.

And again, he fucking pulls away. 

You whine, nearly screaming from the loss this time. But he doesn’t let you move, hands still firmly grasping your hips.

“Shhh, Arañita.” His wet lips hover along your back again, kisses placed along their trail up your spine. You finally feel his hard length resting on your ass. He pulls himself down and slicks himself through your folds. Already overstimulated, it feels like heaven. 

He jerks you back, and in one fluid motion completely buries himself inside you. Your face contorts into a silent scream, the stretched pain easily melting into pleasure. He holds you there, just for a moment. His breath is already heavy and ragged. You feel every inch of him. You feel him throbbing inside you.

“T-take me so well, baby,” You swear he spits it through clenched teeth. He drags you off him painfully slowly and slams you back at light speed. You choke out a delighted moan, “Tan jodidamente buena.”

He starts a punishing pace, using you as he sees fit.

You reach down to your aching clit in dire need of relief. His hand instantly swats yours away, his fingers quickly working over your swollen bud. He leans over you, his free arm practically caging you in while his hips keep up their brutal pace. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, right next to the bite mark.

“Who makes you feel this good?” He growls in your ear, “Say it.”

By some divine miracle, you're able to form speech.

“Y-you do,” you moan back, “Only you.”

“That’s right. Only I can fuck you like this. Only me.” He says it like the most assured thing in the world, and you know he’s right. His fingers work quicker over your clit, sending you to a new high. You’re close. So fucking close.

His mouth comes back down on you, suckling again at the bloody mark he’d left. He’s consuming you in every sense of the word— at his full mercy.

You know you surely scream loud enough for the entire tower to hear, and you don’t fucking care.

You come like a crack of thunder, loud and ungodly powerful. It surges through you, ripping you apart and rebuilding you again from the atomic level. A numb, euphoric moment where you're drifting on the clouds of the world, experiencing all of creation at once before plummeting back down to earth in a flaming ball that threatens to burn you up entirely. You almost want the flames to consume you if it meant you could be like this with him forever.

Then you’re finally gasping for air again, Miguel still pounding into you like a fever dream.

“Oh god,” A pained groan drools out of his mouth. “S-so– so tight when you come.”

He pulls you both backward, holding you there on your knees while he continues to fuck up into you. He held you close to him while he chased his pleasure now. You arch back into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. His fingers haven’t left your throbbing clit, nearly blinding you with how sensitive you were now. His other hand drags along your body, coming up to squeeze your breast. Every small movement on your skin was like fire.

You’re an absolute mess. A stammering, over-stimulated, cock drunk mess. You feel your vocal cords straining yet can’t seem to stop yourself from wailing out in pure ecstasy. 

His movements have become more desperate so close to release. He pounds harder and harder until he’s falling down around you with a choked gasp. His quivering muscles cage in around you as he pumps you full of everything he has. You feel him throbbing, his cock straining inside you until he’s completely spent.

He relaxes, his giant form pinning you down to the floor. The steady breathing of his chest pushing into you as you both gather yourself.

It’s seconds, it’s years, you don’t know how long it is until you both move. He rolls off of you slowly, a pained grunt he tries to hide when he slips out of you. It all leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh and instantly sending a cold shiver up your spine when it meets the air. You both lay there shoulder to shoulder, naked in a glistening mess— completely unsure of what to say now.

Whatever you’d both just done, what you’d experienced, was indescribable. 

You see him reach over and grab the injector gun, shooting the dose into his shoulder instantly— though you’re not entirely sure he needed it anymore.

“Told you I could do it myself,” Miguel sighs as he lays back down next to you.

“Such a big boy,” You taunt him, rolling over to cuddle up to his side.

He pulls you in without hesitation. He places a kiss on the top of your head before letting a final deep breath sigh from his mouth. You expect him to suddenly come back to reality. To remember all the blood and start profusely apologizing. To beg you to leave so you didn’t have to look at him anymore and get back to work, his whole usual shtick. 

Instead, he says something you never expected. 

“Let’s go home.”

__________

Miguel needs to stop making promises to himself he can’t keep. 

You’re in his bed again, curled up in one of his shirts fast asleep. You’re staying the night— again. It didn’t feel right to just send you home after what you’d both been through, but maybe he just didn’t want you to leave either.  

He can’t sleep, sitting up and watching you as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Part of him hopes you would just vanish, then it would mean none of this was ever real. There’d be no consequences and he could go on living his life without the looming threat of you being gone one day. 

To his simultaneous disdain and relief, you’re still soundly sleeping in his bed.

He runs his finger over the bandages now adorning your neck. Various other scrapes and bruises from him were scattered around your body. It should be completely healed by morning but he’ll always know what he did to you. He’ll always know what you both did tonight. 

It’s not something he can explain, and if he’s being honest he doesn’t want to think about it either. Something took over him, of both of you— and he loved it. A part of himself he’d fought for years to keep caged was out and it felt amazing. It was amazing because you were there for it all. You did something to him. 

But what would happen if you weren’t there? This is the second time you’ve saved his ass. The second time he’d dragged you specifically into trouble he’d created. He’d never needed rescuing before. Had he gone soft? Or was he perhaps going at everything too hard? He doesn’t know for certain but he’s sure of one thing— it was better when you were there.

Yes… you’d definitely changed something in him, and he’s not entirely sure it’s for the better. 

He was a protector. He stood up for those who couldn’t do it themselves, for his community, for his colleagues, the whole universe at large. Yet here you were, saving him from himself again. It wasn’t right. It was unfair to put his burden on your shoulders too. You didn’t ask for any of this, but neither did he really.

You’d both known from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be anything. It was only an arrangement out of necessity until he could free you both. A freak coincidence. And now it’d become so much more, hadn’t it? He wants to kick himself for letting it get this far. He knows better. But when it came to you, he just couldn’t help himself.

It can’t continue. He had the means to end it and he will. The serum is ready and waiting. The cure. You’d likely hate him forever, and that’s fine. He’ll be fine with seeing you live your life from a distance, knowing you’d both be safer for it. That’s what you’d both agreed upon after all, wasn’t it? 

Yeah, he really needed to stop making promises he couldn’t keep. 

Tonight, he’ll just hold you close. Memorize every line on your face. Every valley of your body. The sound of your breathing. He’ll lock the memory of you deep down and hold it close so it never gets out again. Tonight, you’re still his. 

Tomorrow, he’ll finally put an end to this madness. 

____________

Translations:

Arañita- Little Spider dorogoy- Darling or dear Do svidaniya, dorogoy- Goodbye, dear Tan jodidamente buena- So Fucking good

And of course do Correct me if any of this is wrong <3 I'm gonna go touch some grass now bye

____________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf @raerorigel @littlefreakymunson @viriexo

@w33ni3 @del-ightfulling

Taglist post here!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #parallels fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader

[yanderes-galore]

A romantic concept of Miguel O'Hara if you can please????

I can try... I'm kinda worried I won't write him how he's meant to be- But we'll see! Sorry if this sounds similar to other fics, I've read some to get motivation but I also did my own research so similarities are unintentional if not a reference. Enjoy :D I hope I got things right.

Yandere! Miguel O'Hara Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Paranoia, Overprotective behavior, Trauma, Fear of abandonment/loss, Isolation, Kidnapping, Dubious relationship, Possessive behavior, Biting/Marking, Drugging (venom).

I understand that some people see Miguel as a sadistic yandere.

However, I have to disagree.

I will admit Miguel can have some intimidating moments, yandere or not.

Yet you've got to remember his origins.

Miguel is a broken man who puts up walls to prevent more hurt.

He mad the Spider Society to protect and defend the Multiverse.

He doesn't always like what he has to do but he does it as he feels someone has to.

He's a perfectionist, obsessing over every little detail to make sure he protects others.

He has trauma and may try not to get attached to others to prevent hurt.

Again, however, I will admit Miguel has devious moments.

He replaced a version of himself just to be happy.

That's desperation, that's a disturbing thought process to go through.

Miguel is a broken man...and it shows in many ways it seems.

Based on my research, I think this is my take on Miguel.

In terms of how he meets you, there's many possibilities.

That's the great thing about the Multiverse.

You could be part of the Spider Society, you could be someone he's with in another universe, and that's just the most popular ones I've seen.

They feel like the most plausible ones too.

To keep this a general overview I won't go into much detail about your origins.

Miguel, when he first meets you, most likely does not want to get attached.

If you look at his backstory it's clear why he'd be like this.

He fears losing anyone he's close with and is incredibly stressed about the whole anomaly situation.

He feels he's no longer deserving of having romantic connections, he should dedicate himself to being a defender.

Yet when it comes to his darling I imagine with time you'd crack his protective walls.

Just know, as soon as Miguel warms up to you, you're in too deep.

Due to all of his emotional trauma, Miguel finds himself clinging to your presence.

Regardless on if you accept or not he feels you're his only other chance to feel loved.

As a result... he makes a promise that he's never losing you.

No matter what it takes.

Miguel isn't a yandere who would want to hurt you.

Any "hurt" he gives you is usually emotional and "for your own good".

He'd never intentionally hurt you physically.

He has outbursts at times and is frustrated when he feels you're threatened, but he calms himself so he doesn't hurt you.

He views kidnapping/isolation as a necessary evil to keep you safe.

Most likely keeps you somewhere out of the way in HQ if something like that happens.

Last thing he needs is questions from the other Spiders.

He always tells you he doesn't like isolating you, that he just wants you safe, yet sometimes you wonder if he does like you alone.

Miguel is shown to be more "beast/spider-like" than more Spiders.

In this case, along with the fear of losing you, Miguel probably displays possessive behavior.

He likes feeling you in his grasp as reassurance you're still with him.

He may also like to leave marks on you due to this, but soothes your pain immediately after.

When Miguel feels he has to isolate you he doesn't expect you to follow willingly.

Which is why he plans on using venom to make you compliant.

His venom is said to paralyze victims for a short time according to his wiki.

If you fight him on protecting you he'll make it clear that he's doing anything and everything to protect you.

Miguel is certainly a yandere who thinks what he's doing is right for you.

He's not delusional, he knows what he's doing isn't necessarily "right".

Yet the fear of losing you is strong in him.

Locking you away with just him is the best way to go in his eyes.

Miguel is an extremely stressed man, he's normally cold and stoic due to the walls he puts up.

But he can prove to be a mess of paranoid emotions once he's attached.

If you express anger at his actions, he understands.

He most likely won't change but acknowledges you're right.

When you're sad about his actions instead, hd has a similar reaction.

Except this time he makes an effort to comfort you.

Miguel isn't cold.

He still loves you and just decides to prioritize your safety due to his trauma and obsession.

He makes an effort to show you he loves you.

In anyway he can he tries to make you look past the fact he most likely kidnapped you.

This is how he cares.

Why don't you understand? He's tired of worrying.

Keeping you at HQ for his eyes only puts him at ease.

Leaving Miguel isn't easy, either.

Escape attempts always end in failure.

First of all, leaving HQ alone is a struggle.

With the amount of Spiders in HQ? Yeah... good luck.

Even if you manage to steal a watch, Miguel is still going to track you.

He's skilled at investigating.

Sooner or later he'll find you, track you, and hunt you down.

Miguel's physical capabilities are the best of the best, too.

He's faster, stronger, and skilled in dimensional travel.

There's strength in numbers and he has the Spider Society.

Miguel isn't afraid to drag you back kicking and screaming.

He's incredibly irritated that you won't see his way on things.

What's so hard to understand?

Are you even aware of the dangers in other dimensions? THIS is what he's PROTECTING you from!

I have a feeling no one can talk Miguel out of what he's doing.

Be it when he's first showing signs of possession/paranoia or sometime after he's given in... he doesn't listen to others.

Not Peter B. Parker, not Jessica, no one.

In his eyes it should be his decision to care for you.

Even if there's hardships and disagreements, he'll try and find the warmth he felt near the start of his life through you.

He drowns himself in every kiss, he feels euphoric with every touch.

Miguel didn't want you to be close with him for this reason.

He didn't want pain for both you and him.

Yet now you've broken down his restraint... you've made your home in his mind and heart...

So he's no longer holding back anymore, you're going to be his and he'll have his happy ending.

#yandere marvel #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere spiderman 2099

[weebsinstash]

Damn, imagine if all this YT drama was happening when Spot's situation was currently going on too. And, well, since our dimension is fucked and we just seem to jump through dimensions without the watch, what if we end up in Spot's place? (The blank void when he entered one of his own spots).

And, it would be funny to look at him, and for him to look at us and just... stare or wave. He is weird like that, and we are too.

Also, we can start bonding on feeling out of place? Sharing the same experience of everyone leaving us behind/ignoring us. Maybe we can even seek solace in his presence, and in his unique persona (even if he is supposed to be a villain).

And the fact that this is the only place we don't glitch out of? Maybe some bullshit physics as this place literally makes no sense, as well as us. It's like we belong here, with him. He could always teleport us somewhere else, but we look so tired, so pitiful and in so much need of some sort of care... he feels bad for us. And maybe, he can try and convince us to stay with him. After all, he *is* the only one who hasn't turned his back on us, right? He isn't a bad guy like those 'friends' of us were saying!

Meanwhile everything is going to shit in the society's HQ :)

I've actually had a few ideas involving The Spot where he's either the yandere or antagonist or a central character in some way and it's really just a matter of me getting around to. Writing the dozens of things I want to write lmao

But bro your mind 😩 you've just been exiled during the YouTwo incident amd you're glitching and, you know, slowly deteoriating over time, and, suddenly, you're in this weird literally nondescript place where you're suddenly... 'balanced out'? You don't feel like you're being pulled in a bunch of different directions anymore, and you look around and it's just some white void with black dots everywhere that you think you can kind of see and hear things out of if you get close enough, but, first and foremost, is that a person? Spot just like. Is staring at you with this very deer in headlights energy and, you both awkwardly wave to each other, "uhhhhhhh... hi?" "...hiiiii, uh, is this 'your place'? Thank you so much, dude, I've been zipping all over the place, i thought i was gonna die, you saved my life" and maybe you even hug him and he's not sure how to process this because you're clearly a variant of Spiderman but you hold no animosity or hostility towards him whatsoever and 👉👈 this is the most positive human interaction he's had in ages.

Not even his powers, but his knowledge alone would be extremely useful in this scenario because like, he could literally just warp around stealing whatever parts he needed to build something that would "hold you together", given his involvement with Alchemax and the colliders specifically

You're just so understandably and genuinely grateful and Spot feels GOOD about being needed, about being someone's savior. He really had been one of the only ones who could help you and he gets a little drunk off that fact. Whether your glitching is a mutation and is your own power or you're simply some weird anomaly, you two form a kinship, and if it IS some sort of weird ability, maybe he even decides to mentor you a little! Gives him something to do, and it totally isn't to help distract him from how lonely and depressed and miserable he is!

But similar to how the other villains discounted him, you kind of discount him yourself in the sense that you don't see him as a threat. Which, he doesn't necessarily want you to, and it's not some sort of disrespect thing, but, the linger he spends with you, the more he wants you to see him as a man, a man with needs, emotionally, psychologically, physically. Whyd you have to give him all those hugs when he hasnt had human touch in forever, huh?! Don't you know how lonely and touch starved he is?! And you just think you can--can walk away from him? Disrespect him after everything he's done for you, disrespect him like everyone else?

You can always try and 'outrun him' with your little glitching, but, even if you manage to lose him, he'll pick up your tracks again, and one day you wake up from finally crashing from exhaustion to find a pitch black figure at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling in everything around it like some sort of eldritch black hole. And Jonathan menacingly waves to you, "I don't think I'll have trouble keeping up with you this time. I made sure of it"

#yandere spiderverse #yandere the spot #the spot x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

[little-annie]

WIP WEDNESDAY | The Honeymooner's | Steddie | Eddie's chaotic unreliable POV

It's just supposed to be a fun week away for the two friends, but when Eddie's guilt gets a hold of him and he learns if he and Steve were on their honeymoon Steve would save 30% on the room, well things get a little carried away.

---

Okay, so yes, Eddie is very excited and very appreciative of this little boy's week-long getaway that he and Steve planned and yes he can't wait to finally spend a few days without the gremlins gnawing on his ankles or demanding for a ride to the arcade. But… but he feels guilty, very very guilty. And why, you may ask. Well, Steve's paying for the whole thing, that's why. The guy insisted upon it, saying something about how Eddie's been working so hard on getting his GED and working at Thatcher Tire and helping Steve take care of their somehow combined 7 children. That he deserved it. That, "Don't worry man, you can get me back sometime if you're so worried about it."

Steve's a good friend like that. Always has been.

Eddie's not really sure how they happened, really it seems like some weird anomaly that they can even coexist in the same space let alone willingly spend the majority of their free time together, but they do. He supposes though, one particular gremlin is to blame for the colliding of their souls. Dustin Henderson specifically. At first Eddie was jealous then when he met Steve, well, then he was kinda infatuated and it's all been downhill from there. Eddie's in love now. Hopelessly, irrevocably in love. With his straight best friend. How cliche.

How fucking cliche.

Eddie huffs to himself and tries to avoid checking out Steve's ass in his way too tight Levi's as they enter the lobby of some too nice hotel in the middle of what he thinks to be some Indiana State Park. Truthfully, he doesn't remember where they are, slept the majority of the way here since they left after work and he's exhausted, but the place is nice. Cosy almost if it weren't for its vastness. Really it resembles what he'd imagine to be a lodge. A giant log cabin if you will. Somewhere he supposes Harrington Sr. probably stays for some fancy men's hunting trip or something. Looks like the type of place that'd be a resort in the winter. Large fireplaces, overstuffed leather furniture, mounts from what he assumes to be the owners hunting trips.

In all honesty it isn't what he expected, but it's still nice and well, he's not paying for it so he's not complaining.

God he doesn't even want to think about what the room cost Steve for the week.

"Checking in under Harrington," Steve's voice pulls Eddie from the fog of his thoughts as he checks in, a young giggling couple to their left doing the same.

Trying to not grimace at the sight of the love birds, Eddie too approaches the front desk, leans against its edge and watches Steve as he signs a piece of paper and hands over his ID and credit card to the receptionist or whatever the front desk lady is called, Chrissy, he assumes if the strawberry blondes name tag is anything to go by.

Idle and waiting to get to their room and sleep in until noon tomorrow, Eddie zones out, all too focused on Steve's profile as he talks. The only thing filtering through his brain is the crushing guilt of this weekend, Steve's sharp jaw and the couple next to him talking a little too loudly to ignore as they boast about their recent wedding to their receptionist, the poor young man looking far too exhausted to give a shit. But it's then that Eddie hears that same receptionist say to the couple, "With your honeymoon package, you'll be saving 30% on your stay with us. Here are your keys … -"

It's then too, that something occurs to Eddie and his mouth runs away from him as he more or less blurts out, "Oh congratulations, we're honeymooning too."

The couple squeals and congratulates them as they scurry off to their room and Eddie has all but two seconds to process what he's just done (tried to save Steve money in the dumbest way possible) before Chrissy is doing the same, saying to he and Steve, "Congratulations! Oh my goodness that's so exciting! Well, let me do something special for your little week away then. I'll upgrade you two to the Honeymooner's Package and Mr. and Mr. Harrington," the gal winks, "you'll receive a room upgrade, 30% off of your stay and free access to so many of our great amenities."

Red in the cheeks at the idea of being married to Steve Harrington, Eddie, for the first time in a long time is speechless. What has he done? They're going to have to act like a couple now or they'll get found out and kicked out. Fuck. What the fuc-

An arm slips around Eddie's waist and squeezes, his whole body going up in flames as he goes rigid.

"Thank you," Steve says, Eddie assumes to Chrissy as he momentarily blacks out and is solely held up by the muscular arm that wraps tighter around him, fingers on his waist that have never been there before.

What the fuck?

Then there's a kiss on his cheek and Eddie has never snapped so suddenly back to reality.

Steve's eyes find Eddie's almost immediately, somehow communicating at the same time, 'Are you okay?' and 'Man, you got us into this mess, act the part.'

He really did, didn't he?

Well…

Eddie leans into Steve more intentionally, trying to ignore the desperate flutter in his chest when Steve smiles and pulls him closer, his thumb gently caressing the thin fabric at Eddie's side while they wait for Chrissy to make the changes in the system and hand them their keys.

It's all so foreign, but really it's not. They're touchy, maybe in each other's space a bit too much, sometimes to the point that one of the kids or Robin feels the need to shout at them to get a room. But it's never this. It's never long lasting lingering touches that kinda make Eddie want to cry. It's never this intimate. It's normally teasing or comforting. Sitting in each other's lap just to be a pain in the ass or squeezes to the arm when they can tell the other is stressed out. Things like that. Never coupley shit. Never this.

"Honey?" Steve's voice comes as a whisper close to Eddie's ear, sweet like honey and teasing, there's a smirk on his lips, "Wanna go check out the room?"

Chrissy giggles after handing Steve the keys and disappears behind a door leaving just the two twenty-somethings alone in the lobby. Steve's arm is still around Eddie's waist.

Eddie blinks, nods like a fucking idiot and lets out a horrible, barely there gasp when Steve's hand leaves his body only to ghost down his arm and intertwine their fingers together, pulling him along.

It's not until they're in the closed elevator that their hands separate and Eddie's able to manage words again. "What the fuck did I just do?"

Steve snorts a laugh before he shrugs, leans against the wall next to Eddie and says simply, "Made our week away a lot more interesting, that's for sure."

All Eddie can manage is a groan, knocking his head against the wall to which Steve responds, "Well that and saved me a couple hundred bucks."

—------

Things only get worse once they get to their room. Not only did they get upgraded to the Honeymooner's Package, it appears they too got upgraded to a honeymoon suite.

Jesus H Christ

Steve's cackling at the door of the room, gaudy red carpet beneath his feet as Eddie shoulders past him to get a better look. And Christ alive, it's awful. So, so awful.

For starters there's only one bed. Heart shaped in all its glory beneath a mirrored ceiling with a basket of what looks to be condoms, lube and lotions stationed artfully in its centre.

Awful.

Than, there's the bathroom that's more or less a fucking fish bowl. From where he's standing, only a few feet further into the room than Steve, Eddie can see that those glass walls provide no privacy. NONE. What the ever loving fuck!? There's a huge tub and shower and nothing more than a thick pane of glass separating them from the rest of the room.

Aw-ful.

What has he gotten himself into?

#wip wednesday #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #maybe if the fic gods are nice ill have this done in time for valentine's day

[moinstar]

(Nightbringer timeline)

"You don't have to fake it when you're with me."

"Hmm?"

Diavolo looks at Moin solemnly. Oh. That look is all too familliar. He knows something. But since he doesn't exactly know her in this timeline, given that it's been a month or two that she's been staying, she played the innocent card.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about..., Lord Diavolo."

It still feels like a lump stuck on her throat. She rarely addresses his name because she fears that he would be weirded out to suddenly call him casually. She tries to remind herself every waking day that he wasn't the demon whom she swore her life to and that this wasn't the home she belongs. She touches her horns absentmindedly, silently reminding herself that she's an anomaly.

'You can't forget, Moin. He's not "him".'

He gently places his hand above her head and ruffles it. Seeing her disheveled look and confused expression, Diavolo laughs.

"I'm telling you to relax when it's just the both of us. You always seems so hard on yourself and you're always on guard whenever you're around everyone."

"I always have to be. Now that everyone knows I'm not a demon, if I let my guard down, I might risk my life being defenseless. I know I'm a sorcerer too like Solomon but I always fear that I might regret leaving without saying goodbye."

Her thoughts drift back again to the day she misfired one of her spells and blinded her right eye. It was a long time ago. She remembers crying about missing them. Whenever she gets hurt, the brothers would come rushing by her side, tending her wounds and comforting her. But that day she was alone with Solomon and she missed her second family the most.

"As long as I am ruling Devildom, no harm will befall on you. I can now promise you that."

Their eyes met and with his determined gaze, she knew that it was the same expression he made when he promised her the same thing back on her timeline. Ah. He's still the same kind demon that she fell in love with. Her heart aches for longing but she still feels relief.

"Now that I've proven that I'm the Crown Prince and the future Demon Lord, I will see to it that you're safe under my care. And... I'm happy that you were beside me to witness that." He smiles shyly as he rubs the back of his head.

Moin looks up at him fondly and Diavolo could tell that she feels strongly to him. What he doesn't understand is when he approaches her and thinks that they grew closer, she seems to take a step back and draws an invisible wall around her. He couldn't help but to be curious and the mystery that surrounds her leaves him wanting and pushing for more.

"Would it trouble you if I ask you more about yourself?"

Her smile slowly disappears and for some reason, it pained Diavolo to see this. He wanted to be close but she wouldn't let him. He wanted to hold her and make her feel safe with him but it's always a never-ending cycle of push and pull. He feels helpless against a human despite being the strongest demon in all of Devildom. Just what have this human done to him that makes him feel this way?

Moin looks away and hugs herself, there was only silence but her eyes are looking at somewhere far away.

"Why do you want to know more about me? Is it for the safety of your kingdom?" she looks at him with a glimpse of sadness in her gaze. "Or is there something more?"

#moin mc #drabble

[devilfic]

I just arrived after finding your delicious drabbled about Miquel where he ends up spareing with the reader and i-

I'm here looking directly at it 👀👀👀 it was soooo good and it's giving me huge brain worms!

Do you mind a small request? Somethkng along those same lines but reader and him end up facing an anomaly/enemy too dangerous that among has Reader killed, and that is where flight of right kicks in, and they are the one to bite the villain

And bam turns out they also have venom but... a more deadly kind of venom, and they never used it or told anybody because it happened something badnin their original world and had to hide it not to end up in danger

I see the vision, but walk with me

❝things we do❞

plot: you lost your husband in another universe. you wouldn't make that mistake again... even if it meant betraying the promise you made to yourself. pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader. cw: kinda dark!miguel, slightly ooc miguel, angst, established relationship, major character death (in alternate universe), takes place before atsv, dubious morals, murder, miguel brings a sort of "killing is ok under certain circumstances" vibe to the spider society that the spider society don't really like, happy ending? you decide. words: 2.4k.

The weight on his chest is unbearable, stronger than anything he's ever handled before, and he hasn't felt this kind of fear in a while. He's staring at the mauling dog of a villain that he's barely holding back and thinking that this might be it. The other Spiders are busy fighting off its minions, he's lost too much blood, and this thing—in its animalistic haze that has rendered its humanity an unwilling witness—wants him dead. And you, somewhere across the room... he won't even get to say goodbye. There'll be nothing left of him to do so.

His arm is broken, pinned under one massive paw, and the other is stuck between the gnashing teeth of his soon-to-be killer. The suit is breaking. He can hear Lyla's voice distort. She's calling out to him, begging him to get up.

Miguel looks into the violet eyes of the anomaly whose gigantic canines Miguel's fangs could be no match for. He's going to die alone. He'd bother to sob if the effort to do so wouldn't kill him first. He shuts his eyes when his arm slackens a little, struggling to hold the monster back, and lets himself make peace with it. Whatever there is beyond this, he hopes his little girl will be there.

He feels the drip of the monster's hot drool on his face and awaits death like a gift, but nothing happens.

Well, something happens, but not to him. He feels the spray of something hotter on his eyelids, so hot it's almost boiling, and then the weight of his killer swaying one way and another, no longer able to keep his arm in its grip. Miguel opens an eye.

He doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't you. You're hanging off the anomaly's back with your face buried in its furry throat. He wonders what you could possibly be doing to it to make it whine for death the way it does. It almost hurts him to hear it.

The anomaly falls to its side, frozen from head to toe as if it had died from shock, and for a moment Miguel thinks that it had crushed you underneath its massive weight. He hasn't any strength left but he feels himself struggling to cry out your name, pushing against the gashes in his torso to try and crawl toward you.

He's on his side and panting when he sees you crawl over the beast and land beside him. Faintly, he's sure he hears your voice asking if he's alright, but his attention catches on red and white.

Gleaming, sharp, white fangs protruding from your mouth and dripping with the anomaly's blood. He's so stunned that he feels his own body seize up too.

He's known you. He's known you inside and out and over and over since you'd fallen into his universe, and he's never seen those.

You touch a hand to your mouth and freeze, and in but a second the fangs are gone as if they were never there. The blood of the anomaly you'd slain continues to dribble down the sides of your lips, though. It waterfalls down your chin, down your neck, down to the ring that hangs there—staining the gold band red. A reminder that it wasn't a trick of the light, what he'd seen. You'd bitten it.

In his position, he could see right into the anomaly's dead eyes. What was once a radiant violet had dulled, become lifeless. It stared back at him in horror. It hadn't expected to die. It hadn't had a chance to put up a fight.

Just what were you?

When Miguel comes to, he comes to violently.

The first thing he senses is the searing pain throughout his body. Every part of him is aching, begging for relief or numbness or amputation. He's never been beaten down this bad. The second thing he senses is the body beside him, propped up in a chair next to what he realizes is a hospital bed. He's... in the infirmary.

Jessica sits upright, her hand grasping for Miguel's but he pulls it away to free himself of the sheets his legs are tangled in. He knows he sounds frenzied and a bit slurred from sleep, but he's certain Jessica hears him asking where you are.

"Hey, whoa, sit back down," and Miguel doesn't have much choice against the full strength of her hand pushing against his chest, "you've been out for a full day. You're in no position to be moving right now."

A day had passed? That unsettled him. He demands to know where you are once more.

Jessica's brows knit together at that. He can tell there's something that's happened, but if there was anything he understood about Jessica Drew, it was that she always picked her words deliberately. Whatever answer she should deliver, she was struggling to.

She joins him on the bed bed, turned away from him, and rests her elbows on her knees. "Lockup."

His blood runs cold. "What?"

"They killed an anomaly, Miguel. You know the rules."

"It was going to kill me."

Jessica finally looks at him, "It?" Miguel swallows. He feels parched. "Miguel, it was a person. A person who wasn't supposed to end up mutated, let alone dead. We could have subdued them some other way. We could've brought them back to HQ, sent them back to their universe, let their Spider handle a cure-"

"Or it could've killed me in the process, which is why-"

"Which is why we've got Spiders working over time to fix the collapse in the wake of their death." Jessica sounds exhausted, and for the first time since waking, Miguel realizes that her marred skin is visible underneath the tears in her suit. "Look, the others don't know yet. They think it was a freak accident. And I'm glad you're alive. Over-fucking-joyed. But your partner... they messed up. Big time. Had it been anyone else, would you be reacting like this?"

Miguel says nothing. He knows the answer, and he's too tired to pretend he doesn't.

Then, the last thing he remembered hovers over his mind's better concerns. He wasn't sure how much Jessica (or anyone) even knew about how you killed the anomaly. You'd kept it from him and he was your lover. He knew everything about you.

Except this. "I want to see them."

"What did I just say?"

"Jessica, I don't care—I need to see them. Please."

"...That doesn't matter. I don't think they want to see you."

Miguel stills. He doesn't even feel the pain anymore, "What?"

"You think any of us were itching to throw them into lockup with you on death's door? They did it to themselves, and they won't talk to anyone. They just keep begging to be sent back to their universe."

Your universe. The universe you dreaded returning to. The universe where you lost your uncle and your aunt and your friends and your husband. He'd never been because you'd asked him never to come. And now you were begging to go back?

The heart monitor beside his bed starts picking up and Jessica places a hand over his. This time, he can't be bothered to pull away, "But maybe," she starts, like she's pushing through a bad idea, "maybe they'll talk to you."

It's hard getting into lockup with thousands of eyes on him, but most Spiders have enough sense to keep their distance. With Jessica clinging to his side and his hand guiding his IV pole alongside him, he's given a wide berth.

Some of the villains aren't so polite, and by the time he's reached your anomaly prison, his blood pressure has spiked enough to warrant putting him back in bed. Instead, he places a hand against the prismatic cage and speaks your name softly.

You look up and his whole world stops.

It's clear you've been crying, but worse than that, you look horrified to see him. You press yourself further away from him, as far as the bench inside will allow you. Your eyes dart to Jessica, "I told you to send me home." You sound betrayed.

"And then what? You can't run from this. Talk it out and see how you feel after." Jessica releases Miguel, giving him but a solemn nod before disappearing off into the main lobby.

"You were going to leave?" Miguel can't help the way his voice cracks. You almost look back at him, then.

It's silent between you for a while. Perhaps you're waiting for him to get frustrated and give up on you, or yell, or bang on the cage until you talk. You avoid his eyes and you keep to your side of the cage, head lowered, fingers trembling in your lap.

Miguel webs a nearby chair to him and takes a seat, "Does anyone else know?"

"No. Just you."

He about sighs in relief when you answer him. "Why did you never tell me?"

You make fists with your hands but they still shake all the same. A beat passes, "Because this isn't the first time I've killed."

Another beat passes. The shock of it is hard to wash down for Miguel. He feels his world teetering on its axis, a breath away from falling and shattering into pieces for the second time in his life. He tries to calm the flurry of thoughts—When? Who? How? Was it justified? Could you justify it to him? Could he justify it to himself, the Society?—and settles on one, "What happened?"

It physically pains you to recall it, and he regrets with everything in him that he had asked you to, "Back in my universe. When I was bitten, I was still learning how everything worked. I wasn't used to being this strong, let alone the venom and I... it was the night my uncle died. I saw the man that did it. And I found him. And I cornered him. And I was so..." You shudder, "I was so angry, Miguel. I wanted to hurt him but a part of me wanted him dead more. And it won."

Miguel and you sit with that. He can almost see it vividly, his own chest swelling with grief for you. For your uncle. For the burden you carry. "And?"

"And I swore I would never do it again. Never. But it... it cost me something, Miguel. And I never told you because I swore I wouldn't do that either. But, clearly, I'm all about breaking promises to myself lately."

Miguel frowns, leaning forward in his chair, wishing he could reach through the amber separating you both and just touch you, "You don't have to tell me. Not if you don't want to."

You finally look him in the eyes and he thinks you're thinking about it. Your mouth drops open anyway, "Remember my husband from that universe? The one I told you I lost because I was just a second too late?" Miguel nods. "I said I thought of every possibility but nothing would work. That was a lie. It wasn't entirely helpless. I could have saved him from that villain. But I would have had to kill to do it, and I just... froze. I just couldn't. And he died because of me."

Your lover shakes his head, warm tears prickling at his waterline, "No, no. No. Don't blame yourself for that. Don't... don't make yourself responsible for that villain's choice."

"But I wanted to, Miguel." You plead, and for the first time since he's sat down, you push yourself closer to him. "I wanted to do it to save him."

Miguel looks around. A nearby anomaly is staring on at the two of you, smirking, twirling a knife in between their spindly fingers. Spiders weave in and out of the room but it's a slow day. No one is around to hear what he says next, what he whispers to comfort you, "You saved my life."

Or what you say back, "I couldn't watch you die again."

It clicks into place. Why you never called your husband by name, why you never wanted him to visit your universe, why you almost walked out of the Spider Society the second you walked in. Why you looked at him, broken and beaten but safe, and recoiled. Why he'd always liked the look of that ring hanging from your neck. Like-

"I would've picked it myself. I can see why he chose it." His finger pokes at the ring with some feeling tugging between jealousy and sympathy. Knowing that it belonged to someone else, that it holds so dear to you even now, and that it was a part of the you that he never got the chance to know. "It's perfect."

You let your head fall to the side and smile into his pillow, "I thought so too."

It's quiet on the top floor. Not even Lyla intervenes. Miguel can't stop himself from asking, "What was he like?"

He half expects you to shut down but you don't. You stare into him, unblinking, somehow here with him and somehow far away, "Brave, kind, dashing in the heroic way and yet he preferred to be behind the scenes. He always supported me. Even before I lost him, he..." You choke up. Miguel's hand finds yours, "...he told me it was okay. That I'd done everything I could do. That he loved me. And that I should love again."

Miguel watches your chest heave with the weight of your confession, but more comes spilling out, "And you know what's funny? You... remind me so much of him. Like his love found me in you."

His mind flashes with images of Gabriella, of the man he'd replaced looking for home, and of the world that fell around him because of it.

And here you were. Telling him that you'd done nearly the exact same thing. Finding him in another universe. Tempting fate.

He should send you back to your universe. That's where you belong. You would have never killed again if it hadn't been for him, and keeping his distance could be the best thing for you.

The anomaly prison falls away. He issues the command to Lyla before he could even register the words leaving his mouth. You watch him in horror as he sits beside you, taking your hands into his own, and kisses your knuckles. His lips stay planted there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of your realness.

It is then that Miguel realizes he cannot bear to let go.

He keeps his head lowered, lips hovering a hair's length from your skin as his eyes lock onto you. You look like you've realized something, like you've been hit with the stunning clarity that you've done something terribly, terribly wrong, "And you won't have to."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @honestlystop @yehet-moi-ohorat

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #mjwrites #marvel

[softichill]

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 4 - Two of a Kind

(As always, made with the help of @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

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[CLICK]

[Something is booted up] 

OTTO: Duality. A notion essential to psychology. We all contain a multitude of personas and change proverbial masks to match our present situations. [Shifting] The body is the container for this legion within, allowing us to maintain the important illusion of a singular self, the very basis of human experience. In Noone, there lies both the innocent child and the disturbed traveler. Both fight for control. But what happens when the duality is not only in the mind?

[Click]

Recording of NOONE: “T…Two breaths. Why could I hear him breathing? Why could I feel them breathing? My body was sh–”

[Tape is cut off with a click]

OTTO: Given her vanishings, I fear it is not only her inner self which has become subject to division, but her body as well. One child, torn between two worlds… Either I have lost my marbles, or we tread ever deeper into territories beyond the boundaries of rational thought. 

[Click, tape rewinds]

[Intro plays]

[Click can be heard twice. Young voices scream joyfully in the background, muffled through a wall] 

NOONE: Otto? What is this place?

OTTO: The reunion room. 

NOONE: Is that cake they’re eating? May I have some? Can I go in there?

OTTO: I’m sorry, you may only watch. My colleagues don’t allow inpatients to mingle with outpatients. …Those who are ready to go home to their families, I mean. Sit tight, and I’ll get you some cake. 

[Otto walks away] 

OTTO, distant, fading: Get me a piece of cake. Piece of cake? Get me a piece of cake… [Door closes]

[Otto walks back in]

OTTO: There! A fine chocolatey slice.

NOONE: They’re not waving back…

OTTO: Ah, it’s a two-way mirror. We can observe them but they can’t observe us. …(inhales) I��d – like to ask about last night. 

NOONE, eating: Mh? Last night?

OTTO: You were in bed with the brain activity monitor on. One moment you were there, and the next – gone! Where… did you go?

NOONE: I don’t understand… 

OTTO: (inhales) I watched you myself so I know you didn’t get up and leave the room. 

NOONE: Wasn’t I asleep? I don’t recall any of this. 

OTTO: ...You vanished, Noone. 

NOONE: Huh? 

OTTO: I – I thought I might have been mistaken at first, but the E.E.G. readings persisted, as if you were still there. Several minutes lapsed, then you reappeared. 

NOONE, distressed: That makes no sense!

OTTO: This wasn’t an isolated event.

NOONE, even more distressed: What do you mean, I can’t just — [raising her voice] people just don’t disappear! [breathing heavily] You’re supposed to help me! You’re supposed to understand… 

[Noone breathes hard in the background, on the verge of a panic attack] 

OTTO: And yet neither of us do! It’s a major event, a bonafide anomaly. That’s why you must be sure that –

NOONE, interrupting: Is there some kind of trick?!

OTTO: It’s alright. [Noone is still breathing hard] Look at me. Focus on my eyes. Breathe. Noone, slowly. 

[Noone’s breaths slow down slightly] 

OTTO, under his breath: Breathe, two, three… Hold, two, three… Out, two, three…

[Noone follows his instructions, breathes slower] 

OTTO: That’s it. That’s a girl. 

[Noone stops breathing hard]

OTTO: Better?

NOONE: … Why did you take me here, Otto? 

OTTO: I know solitude can be hard, and visualization is essential to developing beliefs that will –

NOONE: It’s being alone I hate. It’s being lonely.

OTTO: And I’m showing that, one day, you’ll be in the reunion room too! Just as relieved as those children, sharing cake rather than eating it by yourself. But you have to trust my process, even when it’s difficult for you to grasp. 

NOONE: (Sigh) I understand more than you think.

OTTO: … Yes. I suspect so too. Hidden somewhere in your head. Come along! We’ve got preparations to make before tonight’s session.

NOONE: …Can we stay here? A minute longer?

OTTO: (Sigh) Alright. Just until you finish that slice. 

[The recording stops momentarily and picks up mid sentence] 

NOONE: – o many wires! T-They’re everywhere!

[Strapping, Otto preparing the machine] 

OTTO: It’s the same E.E.G. machine I use to monitor your sleeping brain, only now I’d like to acquire readings during wakefulness, during your retelling to compare results.

NOONE: My last doctor made me do things like this all the time. [Otto prepping] Tubes into my stomach… I– I don’t much like being awake for tests and proddings. 

OTTO: [hums] These electrodes may feel strange on your scalp, but there’s no pain. Nothing to worry about. If anxiety rears its head, take deep breaths. Same as earlier, yes?

NOONE: I– I’m not sure –

OTTO, interrupting: (slightly strained) Trust, remember? 

[Shifting. The machine boots up, activates and Noone winces] 

OTTO: Not so bad, is it? 

NOONE: Can we get this over with?

OTTO: Of course! Begin as you like. 

NOONE, narrating: I spun out of a dark place, and brilliant lights sparkled around. Then, far off laughter, and screams. But… screams of joy. Gathering my head, I… I saw other kids sitting on wooden crates nearby. As I approached, they were surprised to see me, but introduced themselves one by one. 

[Quiet music begins, machine can still be heard]

NOONE, narrating: They were performers, they said. Each with different skills and talents. Juggling, fire breathing, trapy-something… 

OTTO, correcting her: Trapeze?

NOONE: Trapeze! That’s what he said. (narrating) The boy called Rusty, he – he walked tightrope too. There were caravans all around: wooden ones, big yellow wheels, and all these colorful fabrics. I noticed the lights again. Fairy lights, shining down into the puddles from the rain that cleared before I’d arrived. Their reflection, swirling in the murky water, like a ballet. It was… beautiful.

NOONE: (sighs) As I lost focus, the others went on talking, fast and loud as teenagers do.

OTTO, interrupting again: Teenagers? And how long have they been there, performing in this place?

NOONE: Please, Otto! Let me get through it.

[Shifting. The carnival grows louder and distorted speech can be heard]

NOONE, narrating: From the way they looked, they’d been there a long time. But they were confident, or tried to be, and kind. As the clouds parted, Rusty asked if I wanted to go on a ride.

RUSTY, in the background, ov. with Noone: “Wanna go on a ride?”

NOONE: He said,

RUSTY, bg., ov. with Noone: “It’s the best one, because it lets you see clearly.”

NOONE: So, I said yes, feeling… a part of their gang. I’ve never had that before.

[Carnival games and music, steps]

NOONE: We passed by games and silly booths until we came to… the giant wheel. [The ferris wheel creaks] We climbed into the seats in pairs, me and Rusty taking the last cart. 

[Sitting, the wheel creaks again]

NOONE: It went so high up that… I could see the whole carnival. It was… unnaturally high, like – like we were in the sky itself. [Wind blows, music quiets] Rusty pointed to these tall wooden polls, like- masts on a ship, as if that answered where we were, but… how could a ship be in the air? Rusty saw my face full of questions and said,

RUSTY, ov. with NOONE: “Look down, not out. You won’t feel sick that way, and we haven't much time.”

[Wind blows]

NOONE: I… I remember feeling, for a moment, things were OK. On the giant wheel, for the first time in such a long time I… I felt… happy. But, Rusty… he suddenly seemed so sad. His voice shifted and he continued, 

RUSTY, ov. with NOONE: “That massive tent there, that’s the Big Top.”

NOONE: He said we’d be going there soon because him and his friends had a show to put on. I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway: “You don’t like performing, do you.” He looked glum for a moment before replying: “I hate it.” When I asked why he does it, Rusty mumbled to himself, 

RUSTY, bg.: I…

NOONE: … But I couldn’t hear with the wind so loud. Finally Rusty turned and said, 

RUSTY, ov. with Noone: “They force us. And whatever they say, goes.”

NOONE: I didn’t know who “they” were, but a bad feeling came over me and… I understood why we were really on that wheel. Because, all the way up there, he could say what was in his heart without worrying about being heard. 

[Creaking wood] 

NOONE: As the wheel came around, he began explaining very fast how him and his friends had been planning. Rusty wanted me to be part of a special show, where they would try something they’d never done before. He told me that my job was to be lookout. That if… I saw a man in a purple suit, I needed to give him the sign while he walked the tightrope. I asked, “Is this the man who makes you put on shows?” Without really answering, Rusty kept talking. 

RUSTY, ov. with Noone: “In the spotlight, some glow, while others shrivel into shadows. We glow, and do as told, or…”

NOONE: He didn’t finish the thought, but, I understood. The times I was on TV, I’d have done anything to avoid all those lights. So I said, “A simple sign won’t do. I’ll have to shout. A code only we’ll understand. How about… Big Top?” He agreed it was a good idea and I realized he didn’t tell me what they were planning, but… when I saw him staring out at the clouds, I asked, “You mean to escape, don’t you? The carnival?” And he quickly said, 

RUSTY, ov. with NOONE: “This entire… rotten world.” 

[Silence. Narration stops.] 

[Machine whirring]

OTTO: Was the boy expressing knowledge of a world beyond this carnival?

NOONE: I hadn’t thought about it until now, but… I guess so. And, I felt that too. 

OTTO: Then – All the places you’ve been are one and the same?

NOONE: Sort of. It’s like how this basement is connected to the upper floors, but don’t work- together.

OTTO: Why didn’t you ever express this before?!

NOONE: What’s so impo– 

OTTO, interrupting: You’ve sensed that the dreams you visit hold a tangible, sustained existence?! That these spaces are objective!? Physically… there?!

NOONE: I — uh, I think so? I don’t know how it works, but… it feels that way, yes. …Do you finally believe me?

OTTO: Giving the mere thought validity would have my license revoked! Yet I admit there’s potential that what you say is true. It offers some explanation of your… spiriting away, last night. 

[Pause, machine running in the background]

OTTO: …I’d need to see it for myself. 

NOONE: See it yourself?! You’re supposed to help me avoid going there!

OTTO: I need to reach it with you! To find that… quidity of consciousness we spoke of!

NOONE: Why would you want that?

OTTO: …

NOONE: How can I trust you if you don’t answer my questions sometimes?! It isn’t fair!

OTTO: (Sigh) …I… I lost someone dear to me, you understand? A long time ago. …Part of me believes that they may be there. 

NOONE: (Upset) So that’s the reason you’re so fascinated by me, isn’t it?! [Starting to breathe hard again] That’s why you have me do- all these tests and experiments, to find them!

OTTO: Now you’re the one being unfair. 

NOONE: Well, you can’t even get there!

OTTO: Why not?!

[Noone’s breathing quiets, still upset]

NOONE: …it’s Nowhere. 

OTTO: Nowhere? What do you mean??

NOONE: It’s a place… that Is… and Isn’t. 

OTTO: Did the boy, [stuttering] Rusty, say that? The Candleman??

NOONE: Neither. 

OTTO: I can’t help you if you hide things from me. 

NOONE: I tell you everything! You know what’s in my brain- more than I do!

NOONE: [breathing harder] There’s things on my head. 

OTTO: Breathe, Noone… breathe…breathe. Deep. Follow my rhythm. 

[Noone and Otto take deep breaths, pulsing notes rise in the background]

OTTO: Alright, okay. If the theatrics are done, we must press on. 

NOONE: I want to stop. 

OTTO: The sooner you finish, the sooner we’ll be free. 

[Noone pauses, takes a few more deep breaths]

NOONE, narrating: We went to the Big Top. Rusty, and the others got all dressed up. In- amazing costumes. Black and white with sparkles. And another in… a fancy red coat. 

NOONE: Rusty lead me round to the towering stage, placing me in the front, saying,

RUSTY, ov. with NOONE: “Best seats in the house.”

NOONE: I felt… so special. [distant music starts] Until, Rusty looked around, with that worried face again. Without another word, he went backstage, as the crowd started pouring in. 

[Distorted speech]

NOONE: These… “people”... were the wrong shape. Faces like… bad drawings come alive. [thunk] One sat down in the seat to my left, eating… [crunching] a candy apple. It… it stank horribly [Dream!Noone gags] and, the center was mushy and raw.

NOONE: These… plump bodies filled the seats, too big for them, crushing and… spilling into one another. [Crunching and chewing] At the same time stuffing their faces with- rancid snacks, all grisly and chewy. I thought to throw up, but, as the lights dropped, [lights shutting off] everything went still. 

[Pause, light turns on]

NOONE: Then… [drumroll, faint trumpet] a spotlight [cheering] illuminated the stage, and the kid in a red coat walked to the middle. He put on amazing magic tricks, [whoosh] that almost made me forget where I was. For his final trick, he waved around the swirling cloak, smoke spilling out, and topped off with a bang! [sparkles pop, cheering] 

NOONE: When cloak dropped, he had disappeared, [whooshing] and in his place, were two different kids. They had sticks near their mouths, blowing fire. That did it for the crowd. [Distorted cheering gets louder] Then I remembered– I was playing lookout! But I saw no man in a purple suit, and I was distracted as the firebreathers finished and, jugglers came on. 

[More cheering]

NOONE: They took the flaming sticks from their friends, and threw them so high in the air, [Dream!Noone cheering] I… I found myself cheering with the crowd! [Dream!Noone clapping and cheering] And then the lights went down again, [click, drumroll] marking the final act. 

NOONE: (Quiet) The spotlight blared again, shining at the top of the tent. Way up… standing at one end of a rope between two ladders… was Rusty. The others stopped, staring in complete quiet. He started walking… slowly… then with more confidence. The silent went on too long, like we were all under a spell. And… that’s when I noticed… [quiet breathing] something beside me, in the seat that had been empty a moment ago. 

OTTO: (incredibly distant) The man in the purple suit?

NOONE: I heard him before I saw him. [breathing] T…Two breaths. Why could I hear him breathing? Why could I feel them breathing? My was shaking but, his attention was on Rusty. 

[Cheering, Dream!Noone gasps]

NOONE: Noticing that I wasn’t cheering, the man turned. He had no eyes. But I felt him look at me. How can someone with no eyes look at you?

[More breathing, cheering picks up again]

NOONE: Then, I saw a smaller man in his lap. [A smaller, faster set of breathing starts] A- dummy, only… he wasn’t made of wood or plastic, and had hair atop a lumpy face where… a wider mouth had been carved out. Unlike the man, the puppet had eyes, staring at the spotlight above. 

NOONE: Suddenly the crowd burst into a cheer, [cheering] as Rusty reached the middle of the rope, but, the dummy’s face crinkled, full of hate- wanting those cheers for himself. I was the only one not clapping, and he turned to face me. I’m not sure if they spoke, or- if it was in my head, but with a smile, they invited me to be part of the show. 

NOONE: [Cheering gets louder] That’s when I shouted “Big Top! Big Top!” But the crowd was booming! Rusty made it across the rope, but… but instead of climbing down the ladder he began climbing towards a small cut in the fabric at the top of the tent. I turn back… and the man was still there, limp, but his dummy… his dummy was… [Noone’s breathing picks up] gone, right near- Rusty–

NOONE: [Breathing heavily now] “BIG TOP!” I tried to scream– tearing my throat, but– I had no breath!– And then– [Attempts a deep breath] I saw the dummy– It’s lumpy face peering out from the shadows– at the top of the tent– Waiting for Rusty. 

[Ambience become more intense]

NOONE: The man beside me grew shy– both loving the praise, and– regretting the attention. [Noone’s breathing gets faster, ambience picks up] I can hear him breathing again– between breaths– (unintelligible)*– I tried and tried to shout but– it was too late!– Rusty was finally out of the spotlight!– And the tiny doll man lunged!– And– Rusty!– Rusty–

OTTO: [Dream ambience suddenly stops, loud machinery] Did he escape, did he manage?

NOONE, not narrating: Get this thing!– off my head!!

OTTO: Was Rusty able to get away?!

NOONE: [Hyperventilating] NO I DON’T LIKE IT! Rusty!!–

[Noone continues hyperventilating, machinery gets louder]

OTTO: Okay- okay okay- alright, alright, deeep breaths. Deeeep breaths, follow me. Like this now, one-

NOONE: AAA! TWO!! BIG TOP!!

[Otto attempting to get Noone to breathe, Noone having a panic attack]

OTTO: Slow down, slow down, slow down- breathe. 

NOONE: RUSTY!! TWO!!! TWO!!! 

OTTO: Just breathe-

NOONE: BIG TOP!! THE BIG TOP!!! 

OTTO: Two… three… One… two… 

NOONE: Deep breaths– One– One body**–

[machinery suddenly shuts down]

OTTO: Noone? [suddenly standing up] Noone! Noone!

[Shifting, moving furniture, crashing. Audio cuts]

[Pause]

[Click, audio starts] 

OTTO: Mercifully, the only irreparable damage this evening was the wound cut in Noone’s confidence towards me. (Inhale) What concerns me more is the lack of detail in her retelling. A step backwards, which may be the result of her preoccupation with the testing equipment. 

OTTO: Her body dysmorphia was exacerbated. That celebrity doctor’s to blame, whatever he put her through. And all those poor children… but it’s causing her to become furtive. 

[pen clicks, paper rustling]

OTTO: I’ve exhumed the journals published by my outer circle of colleagues, with whom I’ve lost touch. [pages turning] While I previously entertained the possibility of a multitude of realms, a singular space seems more probable, and in line with their transcendental musings. 

[Closes paper]

OTTO: While their studies are conjecture, I can no longer deny the empirical signs pointing towards such peripheral existence! Why then, are my senses unable to perceive it whatsoever? There’s a veil up. Ha! Yes, like a two-way mirror. Only I’m the one stuck on the side of blind, deaf, and dumb ignorance. 

OTTO: (sigh) And the lurking presence of the Ferryman. While he may be a master of dream manipulation, he’s no denizen here. Noone said it many sessions ago: He does not belong in our world. And yet, he’s the connective tissue. I am determined to find his arcane hinterland- to cross into the place she calls… “Nowhere.”

[Outro plays]

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*It's really hard for me to hear what she says here, sorry!

**Take this with a grain of salt, I'm not entirely sure I heard right

#little nightmares #ln #the sounds of nightmares #tson #noone #otto #ln noone #ln otto #otto ln #noone ln #transcript #the sounds of nightmares transcript #No Ferryman appearance this episode beyond Otto's mention of him...... hrmmm #Otherwise GRARARAGRHGR!!!! GRAAAAHG!!!!!!!!!!! /POSITIVE #THE VOICE ACTORS WERE FUCKING AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #AND THE STORY IS RAAAGH #This episode was written by Supermassive WHICH MEANS this is probably the same Carnival location that'll be in LN3!!!!!!! #Otto. Otto. I am fucking strangling you. You are doing mad science NOT therapy #You deserve to get your license revoked goddamn. You suck at this

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 12

It's time for your anomaly scan, and you get your first glimpse of the infamous Frankie.

Warnings: Fluffy. Talks of gender disappointment but it's fine. Some swearing. Some mentions of anxiety from abandonment (like teeny tiny towards the end). Word count: 2,082 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

These are your texts. These are Santi’s texts.

Part 11 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 13

“Well, do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, do you?”

“I don’t know!”

“Have you thought about it before?”

“Of course I have, but now that the option to know is in front of me, I’m not sure what I want to do.”

Jennifer looks at you both with amusement as she takes a few more screen shots of your most recent ultrasound scan. “Tell you what, why don’t I just write it on this piece of paper, and I’ll put it in an envelope? Then, you can just open it when you decide.” She writes on the piece of paper before picking it up. She stands and walks over to her desk before placing the paper in an envelope then sealing it. She writes on the front, before grinning as she turns and hands it to Santi. “There.”

You look at the envelope and the writing on the front.

Garcia Twins – Gender

“Oh,” you breathe. “It’s just…in there?”

Jennifer nods as she hands you some tissues to wipe away the gel. “Yup. It’s in there.” She types away at your report, updating it for your files. “You’re all set. Like I said, they’re growing well, still very strong heartbeats, still sure they’re identical. I’ll send your blood test over to the labs, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. You know the drill, you can book in your next appointment at the front desk.” She smiles at you. “I’ll go and get those scans printed for you.”

You nod as you wipe away the gel on your stomach before you sit up on the examination table. You look at Santi, who was staring at the envelope in his hands. “Our babies’ gender is in there.”

“It is,” Santi muttered, still looking at the envelope.

You grin at him. “You’re tempted to open it, aren’t you?”

“So much,” said Santi, giving a small chuckle as he looks away from the envelope to you. “But I won’t if you don’t want to know.”

“But if you wanna know, I don’t mind.”

“But that’s not fair on you, if I know and you don’t.”

“Okay, so then we don’t open it if we can’t come to a mutual decision.”

Santi took a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Good idea.” He looks at the envelope. “Do you want it?” he hands it out to you.

“No I do not, I have no will power, I’ll open it before we even leave the parking lot. You take it.”

He chuckles before putting the envelope in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll take it back with me then.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly, before smiling at Jennifer as she walks back in with your newest ultrasound photos.

She hands them to you. “Did you open it when I wasn’t here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Jennifer laughs. “You’re a better person than me, I would have caved immediately. Anyway, I’ll see you for your next appointment, take care of yourself.”

After saying your goodbyes and making your next appointment at reception, you and Santi walk to his truck (you still hadn’t queried if he was going to get a car). You’d come together this time, instead of separately (your hear did not skip a beat when he suggested he pick you up from work).

“Wanna go somewhere for dinner?” you ask him.

“I’m sorry, cariño, I can’t,” Santi replied, sighing. “I’m babysitting Sofía for the night. Frankie’s got a work thing and Sarah’s visiting family.”

You nod. “Sure, no worries.”

“Tomorrow, though?”

“Can’t, have a work thing too,” you say, pouting a little as you shrug. “Meeting a new client.”

“Ah,” said Santi. “We’ll figure something out.” He waves his hand.

“Yeah,” you say, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Come on then, I’ll take you home.”

You nod as Santi unlocks his truck. He had to help you climb in now, and it always makes you blush. You settle in the passenger seat as he goes around the front and gets in the driver’s side. He starts the truck and sets off toward your apartment.

It’s quiet, which is normal, until Santiago asks, “Have you told work, yet? I haven’t had Emily knocking on my door.”

You grin. “No, not yet. I chickened out when I was sixteen weeks but now I can’t really hide it. Gonna have to do it soon.”

“Just give me warning if Emily starts spouting questions, huh?” Santi said, laughing.

“No problem,” you reply, laughing yourself.

You both go quiet again for the rest of the journey. You doze against the window, rocking slightly with every turn and bump in the road. Your mind starts to wander about that little envelope in Santi’s back pocket. You fingers start itching to grab it yourself and open it and find out if you’re having boys or girls. Would you be disappointed with the results? Would Santiago? What is he was expecting one thing and he gets another? Would he lose interest? Would he not treat them well?

You push that thought away as quickly as it came. You know Santi is a good guy, he would treat your kids like they hung the stars.

Eventually, Santi pulls up outside your apartment building. “We’re here, cariño.”

You open your eyes slowly before stretching and taking off your seatbelt. “Thanks, Santi.”

“Anytime,” he replied.

You open the door before you hesitate and bite your lip. You turn to him. “What do you think we’re having?”

Santiago looks at you for a moment with slight amusement before he softly smiles. “I think it’s boys.”

You nod. “Right. Gabs thinks we’re having girls.”

“Benny, the dumbass, said we were having one of each until Will reminded him they were identical,” Santi said, giving an amused snort.

You laugh before you glance at his jeans. “That, uh…sounds like Benny, from what I’ve heard.”

“It is,” Santi replies, chucking a little. He studies you again for a moment. “We’ll have to see about you meeting the guys. You’re having my kids after all.”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah. We should.” You both go quiet and just stare at each other. You feel your cheeks warm under his gaze and you look away. “I, uh…I think I’ll wait. Until I have them, I mean. To know the gender. I think it’ll be a nice surprise for me.”

Santiago gives you that signature grin of his before he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding before you climb out the truck. You turn to him one last time. “Are you going to open it?”

He grins and shakes his head. “No. I won’t. Not if you don’t want to know.”

You smile. “See you later, Santi. Have fun tonight with Sofía.”

He sighs almost tiredly. “I’m really looking forward to watching Ms Rachel for the next eighteen hours.”

I want to open it.

You snort as you read it. It had been just over twenty-four hours since you and Santi parted ways after your appointment and he was already caving. You could imagine him staring at the envelope so much that he was burning a hole through it.

You will ignore the fact that you had been thinking about the envelope all day as well.

Maybe looking after Sofía got him thinking about the gender. Maybe he thinks you’re having girls now. You giggle as you type your reply to him.

So open it.

But you’re not here.

Doesn’t matter, I don’t want to know anyway, you can open it.

Won’t you be upset if I know and you don’t?

You smile a little at the text before you reply.

Really, I’m okay with it. I want to wait until they’re here to know. You can open it, just don’t tell me.

He goes quiet for a few minutes before he texts again.

Would you be mad if I open it with Frankie?

You understood, really. You would want your friends with you, for moral support. And this was a big thing for Santi, so you didn’t mind if he wanted to share the moment with Frankie. You told him so, and you waited (im)patiently for his response. Because what if he was disappointed with the gender and he needed someone then and there to rant to. He said he didn’t have a preference, but what if he was just saying that to keep you happy? What if it drives a wedge between you now?

After a long ten minutes, where your mind was going one hundred miles a minute, your phone finally pings with a text. As you look, you grin as you see that Santi has sent you a video. You select it and watch it play, and it starts with Santiago setting his phone up on his countertop in his kitchen.

He looks as good looking as he always does; tight t-shirt, and that cap he’s always wearing, where his curls are starting to poke out. He mentioned he needed a haircut last week. You bite your lip and force yourself to watch the video.

Santi grins once his phone is up and steady before grabbing an envelope – the envelope – and motioning with his hand to something to his right. “Come here, hermano, and look at this with me.”

Your eyes widen as another man comes into frame after a few moments, standing just to the right of Santi, leaning over his shoulder as he looked at the envelope. He was tan, with dark hair (which, funnily enough, was also hidden under a cap) and sporting some light facial hair. He was taller than Santi and had a small smirk on his face. This was obviously the famous Francisco Morales you’d heard so much about.

Santi starts opening the envelope, Frankie watching it with a smile on his face. “Hurry up, feo, I wanna know!” He grabs Santi by the arm and shakes him slightly.

“Shut up man, I’m trying!”

You giggle as you see Santi and Frankie practically jumping with excitement as they open the envelope.

“What are they?” Frankie asks as Santi pulled out the folded piece of paper.

“If you fucking wait until I’ve opened it – “

“Don’t swear, Sofía will hear you.”

“Sorry.”

“Ah don’t worry about it, she’s eleven months old, she can’t talk yet.”

“Is that why you had me playing Ms Rachel for like three hours this morning?”

“Shut up.”

Your eyes widened in anticipation as Santi unfolded the piece of paper, reading over it with a furrowed brow, Frankie leaning forward excitedly. You – shamefully – tried to see if you could read it through the back of the paper but you were unable to. After a few moments, Santi let’s out a noise that was between a cheer and a loud laugh. “No fucking way!” He drops the paper on the countertop before turning to an equally excited Frankie.

Frankie laughs before shaking Santi by the shoulder. “Congrats, hermano!” he pulls Santiago into a hug, giving him a firm pat on the back.

You laugh at the reaction, before you wipe at your cheek, feeling wetness. You hadn’t realised you’d started crying. God your hormones were a mess.

“I can’t believe it,” Santi said, pulling away and looking at the piece of paper again. “Shit.”

“Better start thinking on some names, Garcia,” said Frankie, patting Santi on the back. “Man, I’m so happy for you.”

Santiago nodded before he placed the paper down and picking up his phone. “Just you wait, corazón.” He said, you’re assuming to you, with a smug grin on his face.

The video ends.

You grin as you text him.

You tease.

I can’t wait for you to find out.

Santiiiiii.

I’m serious, you’re going to lose your shit.

Stop it, you’re making me nervous!

Okay, I’ll stop. But seriously, I’m so happy. Really.

Good. I’m glad. I’m happy too.

You put your phone down next to you on the couch.

He was happy. That was a good thing, right? He was happy with the gender. He was genuinely really happy. Excited even, and he was obviously excited enough to start talking names, with Frankie at least.

You bite your lip as you think about the look on his face as he and Frankie found out what you were having. You sit there for a moment before you burst into giggles. You look down at your bump and rub at it gently, smiling warmly. “Your daddy loves you so much already, huh?”

• feo - ugly • corazón - heart

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath, @superficialfeelings

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader

[thefirstknife]

Had a question that you'd probably know the answer to, when "the darkness" told everyone's least favorite bajillionare (Clovis) to go to Europa, was that actually some facet of the darkness reflecting his consciousness or whatever, or was that the witness telling him to get his ass over there? If the latter, what was it trying to accomplish?

Also if it's not too much trouble could you cover the same question for other instances of "the darkness" talking to people? While writing this Eramis popped into my head, but I'm sure there are other occasions in like the black garden or something

Thank you!! :3

It was the Witness! We know now that the Darkness as a whole doesn't really have any specific agenda: it's simply a part of the universe, a paracausal power that deals with memory, history, emotions and so on. It can be used in many ways and the Witness uses it in this specific way as a negative force we've most closely associated with Darkness until now.

The Witness spoke to him through the anomaly that was found on the Moon by the K1 research team in the Golden Age. The anomaly was a black sphere discovered in the lunar tunnels (and we still don't know how it got there, possibly with the Hive; there's some indication that the Hive were already on the Moon towards the end of the Golden Age). The sphere was described as an antenna that was capable of communicating with something across the universe.

Clovis specifically had Braytech seize the anomaly and build a containment for it (you can see it on the Crucible map, Anomaly); presumably, this is also when he received the communication from it. He says the following about it:

The lunar artifact promised me a solution to the indifference of the cosmos. It told me I was unlike all others—and, damn false modesty, damn vanity, I am different! Not for my present qualities, but for my future influence. I shine with noon's light, reflected back through time to this age of dawn.

Essentially, the Witness did what it always does. It picks someone who can be easily manipulated and corrupted, and then tries its best to get them to follow its philosophy and potentialy join it as a disciple. Clovis was an easy target as he already perceived himself as better than everyone else and the only one worthy of existence. You can also see in this quote how uncannily his perspective aligns with the Witness: "solution to the indifference of the cosmos." Both the Witness and Clovis wanted something more; they could not believe that the universe is random, indifferent and meaningless. The universe had to lead somewhere and it had to lead them specifically.

Clovis wanted to transcend humanity and create a "better" version of humanity which the Witness promised he would be able to do with Darkness, as well as with the help of the Vex. He was led to Europa to complete this and create the Exos. Exos, in turn, have a direct line to Darkness, something that would've surely benefitted the Witness in the long run if Clovis' work reached its conclusion: replace the imperfect humanity with Exos who are susceptible to corruption and control, maybe even merging with the Witness.

This is interesting in retrospect now that we've had Veil Logs where it was revealed that the Veil had an extremely adverse effects on the Exos, essentially rendering them useless vessels. Maya Sundaresh was also able to use them to fabricate consciousness into an Exo vessel, an act that was directly compared to what the Witness did to its own species. Had the Witness not lost the Veil, it could've probably used Clovis' work on Exos to potentially in some way wipe out, erase or control all of humanity. Who knows what the end goal was! It was all halted by the Collapse and the Veil being stolen away.

All other instances of "Darkness" talking are the Witness as well. As you mentioned, Eramis was also told to go to Europa by it. Before her, obviously, we have to remember Oryx and the Hive siblings who were also manipulated by the Witness without knowing. And even before them there was Rhulk. Already mentioned the K1 team as well, and in current time, it spoke to us again through Unveiling and the last two pages of Inspiral. Really, any time "Darkness" talks, it's the Witness trying to manipulate people. Darkness itself is a neutral force, but the Witness convinced pretty much everyone in the universe that the Darkness has a specific goal and it, and only it, the Witness, can help you reach that goal. Those that were using Darkness in different ways were subjugated and eradicated.

#destiny 2 #darkness #witness #clovis #long post #ask

[qstea]

Hiii! Can I have some general hcs for Error and Ink about how'd they act around their crush + how would they try to confess? Idk it seems super cute, love your writing btw you potray the sanses very well!

✦ - Error!Sans

| - Every time they’re around you, they can’t help but feel confused in your presence. The fluttery feeling in their rib cage, the hot feeling on their face, how they can’t even talk to you without crashing at least three times..

| - They were so puzzled how exactly you made them feel this way, yet part of them felt so intrigued.. what specific thing about you made you stand out from the other anomalies? What made you catch their eyes? And most importantly.. did you plan all of this?

| - Error is a bit weary and probably won’t confess to you for a long time until they find the courage to.

| - Once they told you their feelings to you, they stared you in the eyes, waiting for your answer.

| - If you accept their confession, they’ll definitely try communicating to you more, and maybe make you a few gifts and take you to visit the most beautiful alternate universes they know.

| - And if you don’t? Well, all those things are going to happen either way wether you consent or not. Error will probably end up kidnapping you and forcing you to live in the anti-void with them if you don’t accept their confession.

✦ - Ink!Sans

| - When Ink’s around you, he feels super excited and he gets overly talkative. Most of the time, his feelings overwhelm him so much he just vomits ink everywhere, maybe on you, sometimes.

| - Ink is just so amazed and wowed by how you make him feel! He never felt interested in relationships or had ever really thought of himself in being in one, but you really made him think about getting together with you!

| - He often goes over to bother you a lot and randomly pops up in your AU / location just to say hi to you or check if you’re okay or not, he’s always paying attention to you.

| - Sometimes forgets you even exist for almost the whole day and feels incredibly bad after he forgets to check up on you at the usual time and ends up visiting you and falling asleep somewhere in your house.

| - That’s when he’s sure of his feelings toward you. And so he ends up confessing to you right after.

| - If you accept, not a lot will change except for some interactions and things here and there, Ink might even move into your home or use it as his little base.

| - If you don’t, Ink just deals with it and moves along his day, he can’t let a little rejection ruin his day! He has AUs to protect and worlds to visit.

#✦ - teaskaa’s works #underverse x reader #undertale x reader #undertale au x reader #error sans x reader #ink sans x reader #a/n: why thank you anon! I’m happy to hear you enjoy my silly lil works! :3

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 6

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!!)

Word Count: 5596

Summary: Miguel unlocks some of the secrets to your connection, but what are the next steps from here?

Warnings: SMUT! (Little strip tease, fingering, grinding, praise kink, dirty talk, p in v sex, Miguel being a lil' switch bitch, you take him for a ride) Miguel POV, Mutual pinning, info dump, Hobie fucking Brown has entered the building Small note: I'm making a taglist for this fic! Just comment or message if you want to be added or just interact with this post! Ageless or minor blogs WILL NOT be added

Previous Next

Series Masterlist

AO3

_______________

Chapter 6

A Mutual Agreement

The earliest morning light starts peaking through the windows. The sunrise was so different here somehow. So much richer and golden and warm. The deep night sky now fading into lustrous oranges and pinks that illuminated the glass-covered skyscrapers into golden obelisks. It was so unlike his world— or maybe he just hadn’t watched the sunrise in a while.

Miguel had stayed longer than he wanted. 

You’d fallen asleep in his arms almost immediately. You asked him. How could he say no? He told you he’d wait until you fell asleep, and that was over an hour ago. His sleep schedule was so eternally fucked up that the early morning hours didn’t phase him anymore. It’d been years since he’d gotten a proper night’s sleep, he thinks. 

You slept like the dead. Still and heavy in his arms, but so peaceful. It was nice to finally see you tame. You were always so fierce. So feisty and ready to take what you wanted. But now you finally rested— and his arms.

As the minutes ticked by he felt the buzz of the spider-sense rise up again. Not in the way it had been before but like it was reminding him that it was here. It would always be here around you. A connection he was so close to unlocking the secrets of. 

Could he have this all the time? Have you all to himself? Could this really be harmless? No. He knew what that mentality brought, and he will never let anyone pay that price ever again. 

You were incredible. You were lovely and cheerful, despite what your past held. It was the mark of a good spider and you were an amazing spider— and he was hindering that. He saw the change in you when the sense showed up. You became more skittish. More defensive and distracted, and your hero life suffered for it. He did that. This was his fault. Who knows how much he’d affected in this reality simply by having you in spider society? If he was half the man he was known to be, he would wipe your memory and kick you out— but he was never the person everyone seemed to think he was. What man ever is?

He’d given himself a mask. A protective wall ten feet high to keep people from getting in. It was better this way. Better for people to think him a cold monster than get close— But you were slowly removing the foundations of that carefully curated wall.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it— some parts of it. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met before. He’s still not entirely sure if it’s because it’s just you — or because the sense was getting what it wanted. But this was a part of him, right? It was him wanting this. 

He was being selfish. After building an empire to help atone for his past sins, saving countless lives and realities— he was being selfish again. He wanted to be.

Or maybe he was just curious. He doesn’t really know anymore. 

This wasn’t love. It wasn’t even a crush. In some ways, you probably despised each other, for lack of a better term. This thing was… what did you say? 

Fucked up, isn’t it?

Yeah, he can agree with that. Every time you were near each other it was like something new was unlocked. The way you fought together in the park felt surreal. Somewhere deep down in him, he knows it would never feel that way with anyone else.

You were completely capable of handling the anomaly yourself. He shouldn’t have even come. He knew he shouldn’t have, but again, he was curious. 

He’d felt the ping of the now familiar sense last night while he was in his room. It was faint but it was there— but different this time? It feels different every time. He’s given up on attempting to explain it.

He turned around, expecting to see you there in his lab, but of course, there was nothing. A quick check-in with Lyla and he quickly discovered you weren’t even in his dimension. So why could he feel you? He felt anxious. Like he had to get to you. Maybe you were in trouble— or maybe this was just something else.

Regardless, he tracks your signature, if only for some peace of mind. Your location lights up in your reality, but you weren’t alone. For the first time, an anomaly made its way into your dimension. You were fighting it right now. He felt you because you were in distress— that was his theory anyway. He was through the portal before he could stop himself.

He wondered if you felt him too. He wondered a lot of things about you. 

You fought together, the threat was neutralized, and the job was done. He was back at the tower. You were home. He shouldn’t have gone back. He knew you were safe. He knew it. 

And now he was, still here… laying naked in your bed, holding you in his arms.

The way you felt tonight will haunt him forever. Your lips, your skin— your cunt. He could have fucked you the entire night and it wouldn’t have been enough. You were like a drug that threatened to send him over the edge. He was already clinging on to what little of his humanity he had left, and here you were driving him to madness. 

He couldn’t be careless with this, he couldn’t afford that luxury anymore.

He had to figure out what this was.

He slowly slinks out from under you, making sure you’re still comfortable. He brings the blankets up over your shoulders taking one last look at you. Not wanting to wake you, he leaves from the roof.

——————

The massive mechanical arms bring out a single glowing red cage. Inside it, a familiar green sadistic face. She’s brought overhead and lowered in front of you.

“ Spider-Woman! ” The Goblin Queen sneers, “ I’ll get out of here, and when I do you’ll pay! You’ll all pay! ” 

“This the one?” Margo asks.

“Yep, that’s her.” You confirm dismissively. The arms immediately carry her over to the teleport dock. She doesn’t hesitate to vow revenge on you in every way imaginable.

You got called into the tower today. Not from Miguel, disappointingly, but from Margo in the lock-up sector. You’d never gotten a call from Spider-Byte before but apparently, you had to confirm and sign off on any anomaly that was in your dimension. Just more protocol you didn’t know anything about.

“Oh, that’s a feisty one.” A voice tuts from behind. The unmistakable thick British accent brings a smile to your face. You turn around and sure enough, there’s the infamous Hobie Brown perched in the corner. You’d only worked with him a handful of times but his reputation very much preceded him. He hops down, walking into the computer space 

“You have no idea.” you tut back.

The machine begins knitting glowing red threads around the enclosure. It was mesmerizing in a creepy sort of way. You’d only seen it done once or twice before. 

“Heard the Big guy caught this one, didn’t he?” He asks.

“In my dimension,” you clarify, “So really I should get the credit.”

“Ah, here to claim your trophy then.” He grins.

“That's why I’m here.” You joke back. “Fortune and glory, obviously.”

He gives a small chuckle. To a lot of people, he came off as condescending but you really never got that vibe from him. He was maybe a little showboaty about his ‘fight the power’ attitude but it was honestly refreshing to have on a team of people pleasers. With everything you know about him, you’re amazed he even joined in the first place.

You don’t know who originally gave him the offer but he left it up in the air for weeks. Most spider’s jumped at the opportunity but he took his time. It’s fair. He’s still a kid with enough on his plate, as well as a blossoming career as an anarchist-model-punk rock icon. 

And this place… well it didn’t seem like his style. Even so, he was still here.

“So you came all the way here and the big guy can’t spare a minute?” Hobie asks. 

“I suppose so. I didn’t even know this was protocol until an hour ago,” you gesture your head back toward the growing stockpile of villains behind you. It had nearly doubled since you were here last, “Byte’s got her work cut out for her.”

“It’s gettin’ crazy out there,” he shrugs back. He pauses for a moment, biting his lip, “You think all this is worth it, then?”

“Whatta ya mean?”

“All them.” he points his thumb back at the cages, “All of us. Wouldn’t all be here if it weren’t for us.”

“They’d be running around in someone else’s world if it weren’t for us.” 

“I suppose so,” He shrugs, turning to watch the mechanical arms knit their laser web, “Ain’t all so black ‘n white though, is it?” 

You’re not sure where he’s going with this. Maybe having second guesses about it all. It was an incredible responsibility on top of the ones you all had. The fate of existence relies on all of you. It was scary sometimes. Just to know how fragile it all was. 

Or maybe Hobie just wanted to stir the pot. It’s a 50/50 shot with him.

The Goblin Queen’s pod is complete. She disappears with a room-shaking blast. Hopefully, to never be seen again— By you at least.

Lyla calling your name catches your attention. She materializes in front of you.

“You’ve been requested to come to Sector 4.” She informs you and your stomach drops. Miguel’s sector. 

“Ooooo.” Hobie and Margo both taunt. Fucking teenagers. 

“Tell him I’ll be right there,” You wave Lyla’s form away, instantly feeling like you’re back in high school again. “All good here, Byte?”

“Golden,” Margo gives an O.K. sign, already moving on to her next of a million tasks. 

You turn to leave.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Spider-Woman,”  Hobie waves you off.

“See you ‘round, Spider-Man,'' you wave back before weaving back through the maze of caged villains. Margo had to be one of the hardest-working spiders, you swear. If Lyla was Miguel’s right-hand man, then she was Lyla’s. She was always here. Well, not here here but she couldn’t do everything she did if she was physically here.

There was a set of rules for interacting in other dimensions. One of which was you can’t be there more than 48 hours. Too much interference was always a risk. Any job that needed to be done, had to be done quickly and quietly. Staying in another dimension had consequences— Miguel made sure you all knew what they were.

You’d only learned about Miguel’s past through other people in vague warnings and stories. An entire dimension… gone. You can’t even imagine. The pain for what he had caused was always evident in his eyes. Just faintly. Something only people who had experienced great loss, like you and your fellow spiders, could understand. Loss of a loved one. Failing as a protector— The thought that none of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.

He had a wife. A daughter. 

You’d never ask Miguel about what he had done. No need to dig up his pain for your curiosity. You knew why he did it— A normal life. A family. Such a fantasy for people like you. You’d be tempted too, if it was all offered to you. Still, even out of such tragedy, this place existed. It existed to ensure it would never happen again. If he wanted to ever tell you, then you’d listen.

Three days. You hadn’t heard from him in three days. You can’t say you were surprised to wake up in an empty bed. You expected it, really. Even so, an overcasting shadow of disappointment lingered over you

Your sheets still smelled like him.

It was a hectic morning anyway. You woke up to frantic pounding at your door, after missing several calls from Jack. He heard the Green Goblin was spotted last night and Spider-Woman swooped in to save the day. It was always your code to call him after a bigger fight. Whether you were okay or needed to be driven to the hospital. You always called.

Jack had no idea about the multiverse. You wanted to keep it that way. The more he knew, the more at risk he was. He could always tell when you were lying but seemed to accept the fact that there are things you just can’t tell him. He risked a lot by simply just being your friend, he knew that.

You always hated making him worry.

You make it up to him by taking him and Ash out to brunch. You don’t deserve friends like them. You really don’t.

You swing to a stop outside of Miguel's room. Walking through the threshold, you already feel the spider-sense hum. 

You’re not sure what to expect. You knew he didn’t have any reason to be upset with you and your last encounter was left rather… unresolved. He was lingering somewhere in the back of your mind these days. Lustful obsessive thoughts you’d be ashamed to admit to. This sense did something to you— to both of you. It wasn’t only a connection but something more.

Who knows if you’ll ever be able to fully define it. A part of your powers that only worked around him? Some biological urge? World's most powerful aphrodisiac? The list seemed to grow with each interaction. 

He was there waiting for you this time, standing proudly at the base of his desk platform. Admittedly, some butterflies stir in your stomach. Almost like it was a relief to see him— or you were just eager to see where this would go.

“ Hola, añarita. ” He greets you with a small smile. 

“Afternoon, Boss.” You instantly feel stupid as soon as you say it. 

He gives a small breathy laugh. Yeah, you definitely feel stupid, “The Goblin Queen sent home?”

“Despite her protests, yes. You’re building quite the stockpile down there.”

“Spider’s hard at work,” He runs his thumb over his jaw as if contemplating what to say next. “You look… Nice today.”

“Oh– I. Thanks,” You look down at your standard spider suit he’s seen a million times. Well, you were both at a loss for what to really say to each other. You attempt to push this forward into a more productive conversation. “To what do I owe the pleasure today, Mr. O’hara?”

“First off, don’t call me that. Secondly—Lyla!” The room around you goes dark like a void, the floor seemingly falling away into black nothing. It was jarring, to say the least. You instinctually jump to Miguel’s side. 

Lustrous strands of red, blue, and yellow light illuminate in front of you. They lace and intertwine together into a helix. DNA strands, side by side.

“It’s… is this us?” you ask before he can explain. The tests. Your blood draw.

“Bingo,” he steps forward, the projections interacting around him. The yellow highlights of the strands brighten and enlarge, “This is us. Human us. What remains of our original genetic makeup.”

Your names highlight next to each strand. You take a step toward them. It was you on the most quantum level. The very base of your existence. It felt so alien. 

“And this…” He waves his hand. The yellow of the strands dulled to the background and the red and blue came forward, “... is the spider makeup.”

You’re not scientific in the slightest. He’d likely laid it out in a visual way you can understand, but you can’t help but notice how different they are. There was so much more in Miguel’s. Your DNA was speckled with spider here and there but his… against the yellow, it was hard to tell just how much it was.

“Initially, they of course don’t look anything alike. But a closer look…” He takes both hands and zooms in on the spider mutation. The projection morphs into a larger chart, breaking up each section with graphs and accompanying equations. 

It was all complete gibberish.

“And the closer look shows?” You prompt him.

“Here,” He zooms in on a pie chart. “This is the spider that bit you. They aren’t a natural species. They’re genetically created from a scope of different spiders. A completely unique hybrid.”

“Okay, I knew that part already.” 

He brings over another, completely identical chart, “And this… is my spider makeup.”

“Okay, we have the same mutation.” You’re admittedly a bit confused, “Like, almost everyone in this tower has the same mutation .”

“No, not like this.” a faint twinge of frustration washes over his face, “There are thousands of species and literally infinite combinations of their genetics. Yes, we all have the same mutation but everyone’s combination is different. With DNA like this, it’s like you were basically bitten by the same spider that… changed me.”

You take a moment to let that process. Infinite combinations of thousands of species. It was like picking the winning Powerball numbers twice in a row. Like randomly meeting someone on the other side of the world with the exact same name in the same exact clothes. It just didn’t happen.

“Okay, we have the same spider. Why do we… have a connection?” you ask.

He starts pacing about the various projections, “There are reports of people having been bit by the same spider sharing… similar connections. It’s simply nature. When changed into various spider-people, we’re not entirely human anymore. A new subspecies of humans. I call it arachno-humanoids.”

“That is literally the worst name I’ve ever heard,” You scoff. 

“Okay, well when you create an entire interdimensional superhuman strike force to save the fate of the multiverse, you can name them.”

Okay, fair enough.

“It’d be a cooler name than yours,” You mumble to yourself. 

“Anyway,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to breathe, “We’re all spider-people, but that manifests in various ways. Some slightly differing abilities or mutations depending on the hybrid you were bitten by. Yours and my powers didn’t manifest exactly the same, but they still recognize each other. We’re attracted to each other, we share a spider-sense because that’s part of the makeup of our spider's genetics. It wants us together because we’re technically the same species. To find a viable mate to—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you cover your ears and turn around, walking through several projections.

“I know this is a lot,” Miguel follows after you. “And there’s more, but… I just want you to understand.”

“No, I got it!” You blurt, “We share a spider sense that drives me insane because we’re the same breed of arachnid-human-whatever. I got it !”

“Hey!” He grabs both your wrists, forcing you to halt in front of him. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. “I know how this sounds. I know this is insane and ridiculous but… we don’t have to live like this forever.”

You pause, looking him in the eye. There was so much sincerity in them. So much caring. He was sorry this was happening. 

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I can cut this out of our genetics. Mute this part of our powers completely.”

“How?” you immediately ask without even dwelling on the implications of what he just said.

He pauses. His head and shoulders drop, and the rest of his posture follows. He’s contemplating telling you something. He takes a few deep breaths before looking you in the eye again.

“I’ve been doing it to myself for years.”

You don’t ask how or why, you just let him carry forward however he wants. He was clearly guarded about this and you didn’t want to miss the opportunity to learn more about him. He waves his right hand, projections fade away, and suddenly— you’re back in his lab again.

He hops up to his desk, grabs something from one of the tables, and hops back down. You recognize what he retrieved. The injector gun loaded with neon green liquid.

“I’m not like the rest. I’m not even completely like you.” He starts, “I wasn’t bitten. I changed myself into this. I had to… escape something, and altering my DNA was the only way how. I’m technically 50 percent spider.”

You think back to the DNA projections. His spider genetics completely dwarfed yours by comparison. 

“With altering myself so much, there was a price,” he takes the green vial out of the gun, “This is a dampener. It keeps me human. Keeps me sane and cognizant. Without it, my mutation would likely take over.”

You’re not sure what to say. What can you say? He was reliant on this thing to keep him human. To keep him functioning.

“How long have you been… Doing this?” you ask.

“Almost since the beginning.” He places the vile back in the gun and tosses it to a nearby table, “I was pretty scary for a week or so, but my brother came through and helped me out.”

“Oh, you’re still plenty scary.” You crack, trying to lighten the mood. The corners of his twitch upward. Success, “I didn’t know you had a brother.” 

“Gabe. He helped build this place.”

“Ah, a family business.”

“Yeah, something like that.” he trails off. 

You could feel the air between you lighten just a little. Humor was always your go-to coping mechanism. Everything you just learned was… a lot, to say the least. He props himself up to sit on his weird little desk platform. You take a seat next to him.

“So, you can cure this?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He says with complete confidence. “A one-time injection to isolate and target it specifically.”

“Spider-mate vaccine.” You joke.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he chuckles, lulling back into a serious tone, “It’ll take me a little bit but… I’ll get it done.”

A little bit? That could mean anything. Weeks? Months? Years?!

Your heart had been racing this entire time. It always did around him. You attribute it to the spider-sense. Strangely, you were growing used to it by now. It wasn’t a surprise anymore, and now you knew all of the biology as to why— not that it helped you feel any less weird about it all. A viable mate. Just thinking the words made you wanna barf. 

The same spider signature despite being from a different time and space. A one-in-a-billion odds. You should get a lottery ticket when you get home. 

“So…” you break the lingering silence, “What’s next?”

“Next, you give me time to develop it and…” He pauses, but you know what he’s going to say, “Business as usual.”

“Ya know, you keep saying that but I don’t think you know what it means.” you nudge his elbow as a friendly gesture, “But I don’t think I know what it means either.”

“What do you mean?”

“It… sucks, doesn’t it?” you admit. You don’t know when you crossed over the barrier of being able to be this candid with him but here you were. He’s been completely vulnerable with you today. You could do the same, “Ever since it started something just feels… off. Like something’s always clawing in the back of my head. I guess that thing is you. I’m walking on eggshells around myself. I’m antsier. On edge. Everything’s turned up to 11 around you. And then… Well, you know how it tends to end. And it’s relief for a little bit, but then it builds again and—”

“It’s the same for me,” he admits. His hand comes up to rest on your thigh. Your sense instantly spikes, “I… have a hypothesis.”

“Okay?” you squeak.

“It builds over time. Being apart. The… discomfort.” His heavy hand moves up your leg. Your breath catches, “And physical contact seems to ease it.” 

Your hair stands on end, “It does…”

His hand settles into the apex of your thighs, “So…I propose, whenever it gets to be too much we have … a meeting.”

“A meeting?”

“A meeting.” he spreads your leg, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “To keep up on… usual business . So we’re not distracted. You find me when you need me. I’ll find you. No strings attached. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that,” you repeat, and just like that— it’s a deal. You needed each other if you were going to make it through this. It’s just an agreement— it didn’t have to be anything more. You’re not sure you wanted it to be. He’d cure you both and you’d never have to see each other again afterwards. Life could go back to normal.

You needed each other.

Taking a moment to muster up the confidence you didn’t know you had around him, you crawl over— and straddle yourself on his lap. He’s clearly surprised by your forwardness, but it’s not unwanted. It’d only been three days— three long ass days.

“Wouldn’t wanna be distracted in the field.” You settle yourself on his massive thighs, grinding your pelvis closer to his.

“No, we can’t have that,” his hands trail up the slope of your ass. He gives you a rough squeeze. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please, just…” You’re not entirely sure. Your head was stirring, you're sure his was too. “Just… make me feel good.”

He grunts in approval, pulling you flush against him. He leans his head closer to yours, but your lips don’t meet. He holds you there, hovering in anticipation. He ghosts his lips over your jaw, his nose tracing the line. You drop your head back, exposing your neck to him. He lays a few feather-light kisses across your throat. He’s savoring you, in every sense of the word. 

His lips come to your ear, “Strip down for me.”

His grip on you eases, and you stand without question. Walking to the center of his desk space you reach for the hem of your neck. The great thing about super suits was how infinitely stretchy they were. You pull your arms out first, rolling the material down to your waist. You make an extra show of wriggling it over your hips, sliding it down to your knees. His eyes burn into you. He intently watches your every movement, like a predator circling its prey. 

You kick your suit to the side, still in your bra and underwear. Your 7-year-old sports bra doesn’t feel particularly sexy— it’s the first to go. You remove your panties one leg at a time and toss them in front of him. You stand before him, completely bare and waiting.

He stands— his massive shadow casting over you amongst the deep blue and rich yellow lights. He drags the backs of his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm.

“ Hermosa .” He breathes before pulling you in. He twists you around, pinning your back to his chest. His right-hand runs over your breasts, while the left trails down your stomach. You arch into his touch when his hand cups your waiting cunt, fingers sliding through your slick folds. He circles around your clit a few times, earning several breathy gasps from you. He works slowly— Meticulously. 

He gently brings you both back down to your knees. You sit on his lap as he plays with you, arching yourself around him. He delves a finger into your heat. You grind down against his palm. 

“So good for me,” He moans into your ear. The heat of his breath against your cold skin sends goosebumps trailing down your arms. He nips at your ear, the hand massaging your breast coming up and circling around your neck. There’s almost no pressure behind it, but the message is clear. I’m in control.  

You roll your hips with his hand as his movements quicken. The wet, lude sounds of your pussy start to fill the massive room. He pulls your head to the side, placing several sloppy kisses across your shoulder. He’s being more gentle this time, seeing his previous marks are still there.

His moves underneath you. You feel his hard length against your ass. He presses you closer— His hips move in rhythm with yours, grinding himself against you.

“¿Te sientes bien ahora querida?” He growls against your skin, “Tell me what you feel, little spider.”

You didn’t think you could even string together a cohesive thought, let alone a sentence. By some will of the cosmos, you manage, “O-on fire. I-incredible.”

“Mmm,” he nuzzles into your hair, “And the sense? What does it say?”

What did it say? When it came to Miguel there was only one thing it ever screamed at you.

“More.” you breathe. 

His movements stop. You’re about to protest when his fingers come up and circle your bud. You melt into his touch. 

“It’s such a demanding little thing, isn’t it?” He whispers, “So needy. Why don’t you show me? Why don’t you take what you need.”

And in an instant, his hands are off you. You fall forward, catching yourself. You’re on your hands and knees in front of him, completely exposed. You whip around, fuming and unsatisfied. He leans back, a fiendish grin across his face. You’d slap him if you weren’t so unbearably turned on. Bastard.

You turn. He leans back further as you crawl over him. Your hands come to his chest, his suit fading away instantly. Trailing down from his collarbones to the tops of his thighs is now bare. You pull his throbbing cock out of his briefs, precum already smearing the tip. 

You stroke him slowly— Once. Twice— watching him agonize in your lazy touch. Good. You lean back, lining yourself up with him. It’s less jarring with you in control this time. You take him at your own pace. You feel a deep moan reverberate through his body as you sink down onto him. His hands come to rest on your ass. 

You bury him to the hilt, savoring the fullness. You doubt you’ll ever get used to the sensation. You don’t break eye contact with him when you start to rock your hips— slowly and with purpose. His eyes roll back as you start chasing your pleasure.

He shivers when you lean forward to kiss across his massive chest, leaving marks of your own this time. He immediately pulls you up into a searing kiss. He holds you close while you find your rhythm.

His hips move with yours ever so slightly, giving you a better angle through each thrust. It’s maddening. It’s beautiful and perfect. 

You break away, sitting up to stare down at him. You could get used to seeing him like this. Sure there was a smugness about him, but there were cracks at the edge of his big bad guy mask. He was enjoying this just as much as you. You knew he was. 

He sits up with you, taming your thrusts into rolls against his body. The movements were less vigorous but nonetheless pleasurable. Your walls constrain, feeling him move around inside you. He was so fucking deep. The extra friction from grinding against his stomach was shooting fireworks through your entire being. You’re not sure how long you can last like this. 

“That’s it. Take what you need,” he says, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, clawing your nails down his shoulders. He enveloped all of you against him. He devoured you— but you were still in control.

He was so dominant and yet so giving in everything he did with you. You never felt uncomfortable or afraid. Just starved and lustful. Now that you’d come to a mutual understanding, it was all the more reason to let go and just take.

Use me, and I’ll make you feel good.

He moves to your other breast, the cold air on your now exposed, hard nipple sending chills down your spine. He rolls it in his fingers as his tongue lavishes your neglected one. He holds you tight as you writhe against him, chasing that blinding white high. It was building in you. You can feel it.

“God— I–I’m–I’m–” The words die on your lips as your movements quicken into a desperate frenzy. So close. You were so close now.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he moans into you, his lips trailing back up to your neck. “Show me–Wanna feel you.”

It rushes through you, taking all the air in your lungs with it. He holds you upright as you quake in his arms. You throw your head back, gasping for air for the first time in what felt like days. 

“Oh, god you’re s-so– you’re gonna— I’m gonna—” His head falls into your chest, your orgasm causing a chain reaction directly into his. You feel him throb against you, your pulsing walls milking him dry. You tremble in each other's arms, sharing in the blinding ecstasy— spider-sense’s singing in harmony.

You hold each other’s quivering bodies until you both somehow manage to relax. He brings his head up from your chest, eyes glossy and dilated.

“Better now?” His voice is strained and husky.

“Better.” You confirm with a matching voice.

The pleased quiet hum of the spider-sense washes over your mind, gratified and full. So, this was the new normal for you both— until he could rid you of it completely.

A mutually beneficial agreement. 

A biological need. 

Nothing more.

________

Translations:

Hola arañita- Hello, little spider Hermosa- Beautiful ¿Te sientes bien ahora querida?- Do you feel good now, my dear?

Please... PLEASE correct me if any of this is wrong &lt;3

God, I wanted to put SO MUCH more Hobie and Margo in this chapter but ultimately decided to do it later in the story being that this chapter was so info-dumpy. Wanna give all of our spider their proper time to shine!

Also should note that we're making assumptions about what Miguel injects himself with based on theories. The power dampener one seemed the most plausible one to me, but honestly they could all be pretty plausible. Guess we'll find out one day! For now... fanfiction theories.

Baby taglist below. Please note that if your blog is ageless/ a minor you WILL NOT BE ADDED. We're sharing mature, explicit content here. Let's be responsible with it. I apologize for not clarifying earlier.

________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara smut #parallels fic

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 15: Hollow

This year, I'm using the October 2022 prompts from @artpromptcal.

TW: canon typical discussion of death/post-mortem

For an office job, it's surprising how much time they spend in the woods. She supposes that they mostly leave the bodies in dumpsters and abandoned buildings to municipal authorities, which is part of it. The mysterious corpses are all in the woods, decomposing under leaf litter and tangled in roots. She's learned to prefer the open air. It makes the flies more bearable. Predation is a fact of death - she knows that - but crows and foxes seem a more dignified option than rats.

There are less sinister reasons to venture into the forest, too: reports of strange creatures and lights that can't be explained. That's what they're chasing today.

"The Ozark Howler," Mulder explains again as they hike. "A wolf-sized creature with the muzzle of a dog and the shape of a cat, Scully. You might think that would be strange enough, but you'd be wrong."

Scully steps over a fallen branch. "Of course I would."

He grins. "In addition to those anomalies, it has red eyes and horns."

"Astonishing," she says, crunching through the leaves. There's a nip in the air that chills the tip of her nose. It's apple weather. Firepit weather. The mountains around them are red and orange and yellow, stippled with dark green pines. Sunlight sifts through the leaves when the wind sighs.

Scully doesn't believe any legendary creature would appear in the daylight - too easy to document, for starters - but a day like this is impossible to argue with. They deserve an easy case once in a while. Besides, something is killing chickens. She suspects a mountain lion or coyotes, but the reports are incongruous. There are bears in these woods too, somewhere. Any of those things would have the power to turn chickens into the smears of blood and feathers in the photographs in Mulder's files.

Mulder isn't finished. "The first reported sighting was in the 1800s by none other than Daniel Boone."

"I've heard of him."

"Reports differ on whether he was able to shoot one, but multiple sources have described seeing Howlers over the years, even up to present day."

"Mmhmm." Scully sips from her water bottle. "How did we get called in for chicken murder? That isn't a federal crime, or we'd be arresting Colonel Sanders."

"Someone from the local field office tipped me off to this one," Mulder said. "Chicken's big here. Anyway, this thing could be crossing state lines. The Ozarks Highlands span a four-state area."

"I see."

The trail in front of them crests the hill and descends into a hollow lined with a bonfire array of maples. At the bottom, a sturdy wooden bridge spans a chuckling creek whose progress down the slope is punctuated by tiny waterfalls. The trail is cut into stone steps just a bit too high for Scully's stride. Mulder wordlessly puts out a hand to steady her as she climbs down. His grip is warm and strong. She savors the moment.

They stop on the bridge. Scully pulls two apples out of her bag. Locally grown, the sign said. She and Mulder lean on the railing and eat the crisp fruit. It takes her a moment to realize that the woods are loud around them in a way that's so different from the city: birds and water and rustling leaves instead of traffic and people. Peace steals over her. There are bones in these woods, to be sure. These mountains are old, worn down nearly to hills. There are always bones in a place like this. But they're hunting a beast instead of a human murderer. It's old-fashioned, almost sweet. If these woods are haunted, it's by ghosts that belong here.

Scully unearths a bag of trail mix. She suspects that Mulder's hunger is greater than apple-sized. Mulder leans his shoulder gently against hers. She doesn't shift away. There's no one to see them here. They can exist in their most natural state: so close that the clouds of their breath mingle and their fingers brush as they reach for GORP.

"Imagine the Howler in a place like this," he says, and she can almost see it: a wild thing, crouching to lap from the stream, watchful red eyes and graceful horns and a tail that lashes.

#x-files octoberficfest #octoberficfest #my fic sort of #leiascully fic

[ghouhlish]

Dead Plate Wednesday AU

(Taster.)

Chapter 1

_

Some explanations + the end of the first proper day. It’s on the shorter side.

Just some stuff to hype me for writing (I have a bit of block the last year and I also lost the password to my old acc…..)

Please excuse typos or misspelling!

CHARACTERS ARE OOC and tbh Enid is my fav Wednesday artist’s version.. kinda.

_

CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP! (Not for smut, just for plot. And you cannot pay me to write about school life in detail.)

Wednesday is Vince, obviously.

So that means Enid is Rody, working around the clock serving up the dishes Wednesday oversees are perfect.

She’s saving up for her loving boyfriend, Ajax! Sure he hasn’t showed for a while when he had promised, but he’s probably stoned, right?

They work at Jericho, it’s a restaurant like in the original, however they serve coffee with certain meals and they have special brewers in the kitchen.

Wednesday has ZERO taste, she drinks straight black coffee, she serves food bitter, sour, not particularly to Enid’s taste, but it’s not for her, until it is.

_

Enid packs away, she takes out the dirty plates, she passes her regards to the chefs, dishwashers, coffee makers, everyone.

She takes out the trash, she wipes down the tables, all with a wine bottle she’s gotten used to gripping tightly in her hand precent.

Wednesday watches her. Hawk eyes scorch the wolf’s oblivious brain. She’s checking for imperfections, quite simply. The dishes not being fully put away, a spec of dirt on the table.

Enid is different and she just doesn’t know why.. she needs to find out. She needs to know everything about herself and this waiter is just an anomaly in that confidence of self. She forms an idea.

.

Wednesday shows no sign of cracking the sick smile she wants to as she passes Enid a firmly wrapped plate.

“Enid.” The werewolf’s ears perk and she stiffly turns, bin bag in hand, thinking she’s at the very least in mild trouble for her shotty service. One table left and there was a critic, on her first day.. She swiftly walks over, small grimace on her face.

Wednesday holds out the plate. “Do you have somewhere to put this?” Enid’s head tilts. “It’s for you. Do you have anywhere to put it?”

Enid huffs, tension releasing. “Uhh..” she thinks for a second, finally putting down the wine. “No.”

Wednesday’s eyebrows raise, she’s waiting for something.

…

“Do you need a bag?”

“Yes, please” Enid flashes a crooked smile, eyes crinkling. The Raven pauses. She looks at both of Enid’s eyes, searching. Then the places the plate down and disappears into her office.

Enid holds the plate and looks at it. Ew. It looked fine, but it felt wrong. Certain things just feel wrong, like when you click a button but then you need to click it again so then it’s like it reset. This food cannot be reset.

She just looks down at it. She feels grateful, sure, but it just..

Wednesday holds out the bag and Enid almost jumps, just settling for blinking multiple times at the girl, then quickly putting the plate into the bag and taking it from her. Silent.

.

The ride home felt wrong. The bag swayed on the handle whenever the bike turned or whenever Enid’s knee hit off of the plate.

It was a normal bag, plain white. Like a bag you would get after going to a high end restaurant.

It was quickly shoved into the fridge, the bottom shelf, and forgot about.

She picks up the phone and begins, from heart, to dial up Ajax, tell him about her weird Co worker, how she gave her food and how off it felt, how much she misses him,

how it doesn’t matter how long they haven’t seen each other because they can make it through anything,

How much she’s saving up for him,

how she will take him somewhere nice,

How she will be nice..

The line cuts. Guess he’s stoned again.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #enid emma myers #eniday #wenclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #the addams family #enid sinclair #dead plate #vincent dead plate #rody dead plate #author #wednesday au #dead plate au #wednesday headcanons #wednesday is soft for enid #platonic #romantic #slow burn #restaurant #business owner #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic stuff #fan fic author #fan fic things #fan fic related #fan fic ideas

[strawheart-pirate]

Fir

Dracule Mihawk x gn!Reader

December 19th 2023 Words: 791 CW: SFW / Fluff / non/pre relationship

As you trained in the middle of the forest on Kuraigana, the falling snow reminded you that Christmas was coming. Luckily, your weapon of choice was an axe, and you were determined to get a tree for Christmas.

You have been stranded on the island of Kuraigana for four months. An accident forced you to seek refuge on this godforsaken island. At first your days were hard, the wild monkeys were a tough challenge for you, but with time you managed to defeat them. After that, your path was clear and you explored the island and found an abandoned mansion. Well, mostly abandoned if it weren't for the Shichibukai Dracule Mihawk. When you knocked on his door and he saw that the monkeys respected you, he tolerated you in the mansion, and the two of you have managed to live quite well together ever since.

Today you were in the forest, swinging your axe to get stronger as the first snow fell. Living far away from any civilization has its price, as you can easily forget time. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the snow as you happily made your way back to the mansion. You look at the calendar in the kitchen and see that Christmas is five days away. Five days?! Better get a tree, at least to pretend there's still a world out there and to have something familiar next to your axe.

You set out to find the most beautiful Christmas tree you could find. The tree had to be perfect, not too wide, not too tall, and definitely not inhabited. You found one near the river that fulfilled all your wishes, and you didn't hesitate to cut it down. You brought it home and placed it in the living room, a safe distance from the fireplace. With your hands on your hips, you looked at it with satisfaction and pride. Now all you had to do was find some decorations or improvise.

Mihawk came out of his office and looked at the tree as if it were an anomaly.

"What?" you asked as you felt his presence. Anger rose in you as you saw his disapproving look. Was he really trying to ruin this moment for you?

 "Where did you get this?" He asked coldly.

"Down by the river. There were quite a few." You explained, not knowing why it was such a big deal.

He groaned and you wondered what you had done wrong. Mihawk went over, chopped up the fir tree with a random sword, and fed the remains of the tree to the flames of the fireplace. A few seconds later, the tree was gone.

"What are you doing?" You yelled, he was done with the tree before you could even react.

"It's infected. The fir trees down by the river have some kind of fungus. It's poisonous, by the way. You should disinfect yourself and take a shower." Mihawk explained in a calm and monotonous voice, cleaning the sword before burning the used rag as well.

"What, you could have told me that!" You groaned and stormed off before he could say anything, so he just sighed and walked out.

Your bad mood was noticeable even without Haki, so you took your time in the shower to disinfect yourself and calm your nerves. So much for a Christmas Tree. Maybe there were still fir trees somewhere on this island that you could use. You would probably go out tomorrow and start your search all over again. But your energy was spent for today. As soon as you got dressed, your stomach announced that you were hungry. You were about to go into the kitchen to get something to eat when you noticed something.

You slowly approached the living room, but stopped at the door when you saw Mihawk decorating a small oak tree with long branches. He had placed it in the same spot you had chosen. The lights were already neatly wrapped around the branches, and he was now hanging paper stars of different colors and sizes in the tree. A small smile crept across your face and you slowly retreated to the kitchen, pretending you hadn't seen anything. It was your turn to cook dinner and you would make sure it was a good one.

An hour later, you called him in for dinner, and the two of you sat down at the long dining table. You served each of you a generous portion of the soup you had cooked before you began to eat in comfortable silence.

"I hope an oak tree will do." Mihawk spoke after a while.

You looked at him with big eyes. For a moment you were tempted to pretend that you hadn't seen it. But it was Dracule Mihawk we were talking about, of course he would have sensed your presence earlier, and you knew it was pointless to deny it.

"It looks wonderful. Thank you," you answered quietly and smiled.

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#one piece #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #gn reader #fan fiction #sfw #strawheart-pirate.events #strawheart-pirate.christmas countdown 2023 #strawheart-pirate.writing