#If I could make this holographic I fucking would

[themasquemacabre]

He tried to hold her hand, to give it a squeeze, but all he could manage was a twitch of his fingers. "I... I wish..." Wishes are for humans. He swallowed, tried again. "I... didn't want... this to be how..." He broke off in a convulsive fit of coughs, curling in on himself as pain surged with every wrack of his body. When it ended, he slumped against her, gasping for breath, spent beyond measure. "I'm... sorry..."

From a thread with @thebabblingbab. Special thanks to @xemmyq for helping me with the glitz, background, and overlays. They brought the 80's glam to my rock n' roll and taught me a few tricks!

[futureplayboibunnie]

Aphrodesiacs Pt. 4

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel O’Hara were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

mmmmmm heated.

the way you guys are eating this up makes me so damn giggly. love u fr. i’m feeding u crumb by crumb.

BROOO NSFW 18+ ykykyk

A few days had passed, still actively avoiding each other, still actively desperate for each other.

Your lips were bleeding raw. It was a nervous habit now, chewing and knawing in your lips to conceal the broken moan escaping from your throat. It was like second nature, you were actually wondering if Miguel could actually see through your eyes.

Miguel was in his office, late again as usual, and he made sure that Lyla placed you as far away from him at HQ as possible, so you ended up in the shitty lab that you hated. He contemplated not letting you at HQ at all at night when he was here. But you actually wanted to see this suppressant through, you couldn’t give up. You had to at least try, no matter how hard Miguel pushed his distinctive and contrasting ideology onto you. You had to be sure, even if it was all for nothing.

You ran a diagnostic and everything seemed…fine. It would be smarter to wait but you had to try it out, not even bothering to drink it yourself first, you wanted to give it to Miguel so you could see that smug, God-like look from his face fade into normalcy: not being whipped over each other. As you closed the lights in the lab in a hurry, Lyla glitched in front of you as you headed out. You sighed as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot, a strange look forming on her face.

“Where ya going?” She said surprisingly chipper but you know she had an ultrerior motive. You waved a hand into the air she was in but she glitched to the side of you as you walked completely determined.

“Nowhere…” You mumbled, a frown settling on your lips. She didn’t believe it and she glitched in front of you again.

“He said doesn’t want to see you.” She shut her eyes and rattled your nerves with that sing song voice. Oh he doesn’t want to see you? Well, that’s funny. You would bet all your possessions to the fact that he does definitely need to see you, he just can’t because of some misbegotten respect out of his own moral code. You scowled.

“I don’t care. I have to show him something.” You gritted out hestitantly as you raised the vial up.

“Sorryyyy, no can do.” She smiled warmly and then before you can even blink, a red glitchy quilt of a cage Miguel would use for anomolies covered you. You blinked rapidly, filled with nothing but rage at the holographic AI.

Why the hell was everyone trying control you? Miguel. Lyla. Who next, Jess? This was between you and Miguel only, you didn’t care if Lyla was practically an extension of him, all you wanted was for all of this to go away. Even if you moved across the globe from him and met the hottest guy with the biggest dick, you still wouldn’t be able to unsheath yourself from the biggest problem: Miguel. As your palms hit the glitchy forcefield, you grunted hard. A thought flashed through you: what would this be like if you stopped being Spiderwoman? You shook your head and elbowed the shield.

“Lyla. I swear to God, if you don’t let me out-“ Your teeth were threatening to shatter as you glared at the faux pout that Lyla had.

“Sorryyy. Boss’s orders. Gotta go, Margo needs me!” She giggled before disappearing into thin air.

“What the hell? Are you just going to leave me here?” You yelled at nothing but a blank space. No other spiders were here, how the fuck were you supposed to do until morning? Thank God, the lights were still dimly lit so you wouldn’t be trapped in darkness…and Miguel was still here.

You felt it. In your bones you felt it.

No, no, no.

An unbidden image if him fucking you over his desk from behind as he pulled your hair seared into your mind. You felt it, you felt the thought react to all corners of your body. It would be so hard, so rough, so intense….He would cum all over your back and then plug his cock back in you. God, he would-

Please, not now. Please, why now?

-

Miguel wasn’t making any actual, practical effort to find a solution for any of this. His whole schtick was avoidance, he had done it to many women in his life, he could do it with you. Enough of being this weak, pathetic man, he could keep all of this in check if he just focus and didn’t let his mind wander or drift. He could do it. Yes, he knew he could.

Even though he was trying to not think about these primitive urges towards you, he couldn’t help a ribbon of curiosity flow through him about you. Why you? Yes it was the spider that was the root cause of this, but you….He wanted to know more. Miguel was an insatiable man with a trust that he beats down reguarly. He doesn’t trust. Ever. Even in his society, he knew that every single society and every single person in those societies had an agenda. Including him. His agenda right now was not fucking you.

He glared at his orange screens, watching clips of you fighting, clips of you walking around HQ. As much as he thought it was just “normal” curiosity with no lustridden intent, he couldn’t help but gawk at you like a fool. What was it about you that made you so damn attractive? It couldn’t have just been the spider that made him see that. He wanted to know more about you, your friends, your life….

In a fit of impulse, he wanted to hack remotely into your phone. It wasn’t even a second thought. As he had to remind himself…”just curious.” He then toggled his morals back on, this was such an invasion of privacy. It’s just so awful of him to do this, but his impulses were deemed more important right now.

He sighed loudly and screwed his eyes shut. Fine, he would destroy any pathway he had to get to your phone after this. He would never do it again.

It took about 20 minutes to do it, but he finally got in. He winced at how he was acting but as soon as his orange screens mirrored your phone, he pushed the feeling aside with a grunt and raised his fingers to start scrolling through your phone remotely using the screens. He went on your texts and there were multiple guys lined up just begging to fuck you. Your hookups were desperate for you and they wanted more. The texts you sent were very blunt and he couldn’t stop his brow from furrowing as his eyes skimmed.

- Come fuck. Left the door open

- On the way.

it should be Miguel that kicks the door in to see you, his face contorted into a snarl just imagining someone else doing it. He knew he shouldn’t but he kept scrolling.

- Need to ask you something.

- What about.

- Are you fucking a guy called Miguel or something

- What? No.

Miguel’s eyes widened as he read the message. What? He was stunned and tinged with a heated anger. You were talking about this to other people? No one could know, that was the first thing you were both told.

- Then why’d you whimper his name when we fucked.

You didn’t answer that text. Miguel’s mouth unhinged open as he saw those little words written out in front of him. Wait…you fucked other guys and…pretended it was him? Like Miguel was doing to all his women? Jesus Christ, this really wasn’t manageable. You moaned his fucking name when another guy had his dick in you. He felt so fucking smug and triumphant, a smirk lifted up his face. Oh the thing’s he’d do to you in order to make you whimper his name. Your other men must be racking their brains and going crazy trying to found out who he is.

You had a few friends you shot messages too but all there were now recently were hookups. Miguel frowned. He went to one chat and his eyes started gleaming red. He scrolled and found a picture of you. Posing for the camera for this random guy. Naked. Miguel swore he felt the vein on his temple thrum behind his skin, his dick hardened so fast that he was sure he’d be the most pathetic man on Earth, but how could he not? You looked so…delicious.

You were sat down on the edge of your bed, phone angled to the side so that your chin rested on your shoulder, the look on your face made him groan. You pouted at the camera and tensed your brows, lips glossed and wet, eyes gleaming with desperation and arousal. Your legs were spread wide apart and he could see very clearly how wet you were, your tits sat so prettily he just had to close his eyes and grunt. “Oh my fucking God….”

Your body was better than he could ever fucking imagine, your thighs especially. He couldn’t wait to eat you out. He wanted to frame this picture and put it on his desk so he could fuck his fist while he worked, maybe he’d get you to suck his dick under the table and-

No. Por favor. Control yourself. This means nothing.

He was lying. This meant everything.

He was pulled by his mindless gawk unkindly as an alert popped up on his screen, it was the security camera picking up on something.

You.

“Lyla! I swear to God someone let me out! I can’t be here all night. Miguel?” You screamed, he looked at the live footage and he sighed thickly. His face was hard, his eyes were mean and bore a visciois crimson hue. Seeing you like that, posing for another man made him jealous beyond pure reason. He would put a bullet between his eyes and fuck your face after he did it.

Miguel shook his head hoping to fly away this tangible and unreasonable jealousy. He was doing the exact same thing, he fucked other women like it was a new hobby and in some ways it quite had to be. But they really didn’t mean anything. They weren’t you. It felt like nothing too. Though, he didn’t know if your hookups meant nothing to you. Maybe you were in love with one of them, that’s why you were so desperate for a suppressant so you could truly love someone else. Miguel’s face went blank and then contorted back to pissed again. He was the one that told you to stay away from him….

He punched the console that helped him hack your phone and then threw it across the room in a fit of anger. He stood still for a minute and raked a hand to regain his composure. He took a few deep breaths to find balance again and then walked out of his office and to where you were so he could make you go home and stay there.

Miguel clenched his fists in order to avoid punching any more of the infrastructure and he felt his knuckles turn a piercing white. He found you in the distance in the red forcefield, looking unhappy as ever and all he could envision was you naked under the suit. He groaned as he approached you, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The look you gave him was deadly. You were so pissed. This wasn’t normal anger, it was animalistic and wild. You were sure you were turning more and more red the longer you stood. Viscious wasn’t the first thing you were about to be right now.

“Let me out of this goddamn cage right now Miguel.” You quietly seethed, eyes piercing and frown growing. He had never seen you this angry before, it was alarming yet refreshing. He mirrored your exact same look as he took the forcefield down, your body langue nor your face seemed thankful.

His eyes flicked at the vials and his face grew even more indifferent, he stepped forward and snatched the vials from your hand and crushed them with his palm as you watched in disbelief. Your mouth opened in a gasp and then you fell even more furious than before. You grabbed onto his collar and leaned in, faces still bearing the same scowl, up real close.

Instead his free hand pulled your hair back and he whispered in your ear. “Don’t send naked pictures of yourself to anyone else from now on, we clear?” He spat out coldly, venom boiling and seeping into his blood as he uttered the words.

You attempted to hide the flash of surprise on your face through the anger but what was impossible to conceal was your arousal. How the hell did he know? What the fuck was he doing? It’ll be a snowy day in hell before you ever forgive him for breaking the vials. You gave him a poisonous look before you leaned in to his ear, his scent already messing with your brainwaves.

“Next time I see you…I’ll kill you myself”

He let go of you and then turned his back on you, forming a portal for you and for himself, glancing at each other as you walked through it and disappearing into the night.

-

i’m making it painful. i’m making u wait for it ahahahaha

-

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @imkikibtw @tbeanie3 @spxctorsslxt @saturnknows @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @tbeanie3 @l3laze @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house @defnot-bri @awkward-d3rs3-dramer @hasai69 @unnisumi @irongardenermaker @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n

[ultravioletrayz]

hii, i hope your day/night has been well !!

i was wondering if i could request husband miguel who’s at the society with chubby/curvy wife where reader is just literally stuck to him like glue because she’s on her period and like also period horny and she desperately wants a lolipop qnd miguel is like totally taking advantage of it by straight up making reader give him a bj for her to satisfy her oral fixation

Holy shit that’s so hot.

Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, oral (m. receiving), size kink (kinda), miguel and reader both being equally needy, public sex? (they do it in miguel’s office), miguel gets kind of rough so throat fucking ig, cum eating, awfully translated Spanish

Summary: following your husband around his workplace all day means miguel gets to take full advantage of your current… situation 🩸

A/N: someone give reader her lollipop :(

Word Count: 1.6K (unedited)

At this point, you couldn’t tell whether Miguel was genuinely clueless, or just being a dick. You’ve been following him around HQ all day, not wanting to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the Spider Society, all the while trying not to cry out in pain and discomfort from how bad your cramps are getting.

It’s like your body wants you to suffer. The dizzying combination of pain, exhaustion, arousal, and the desperate need to distract yourself with something, anything, is enough to make you scurry away from your husband in desperate search of any kind of relief.

You try to follow the signs and the memory of Miguel showing you around his workplace the first time he had let you visit, making your way into the cafeteria. A few Spider-People look your way, confused as to why Miguel wasn’t by your side.

Shyly, you make your way to a few food stands and counters set up throughout the room, asking around if anybody sells a lollipop or anything else that would satisfy your need for distraction. Unfortunately for you, nobody has anything to offer, causing you to smile politely and leave the room, despite how frustrating this whole situation is.

You’ve excused yourself to the bathroom an obscene amount of times, been caught clutching your midsection as a result of your more painful cramps (day 2 fucking sucks), and you’ve been biting and chewing at the collar of the cute little blouse you’re wearing, which was your first attempt to communicate to Miguel this morning that you are painfully horny. And yet, the man you married for his caring and observant nature was none the wiser.

“¿Adónde fuiste?” Miguel’s voice booms behind you, causing a startled yelp to leave your lips as you turn on your heels and look up at him. His expression isn’t one of anger, like you had expected, it’s more amused than anything. (Where did you go?)

“I wanted a lollipop,” You say softly, fiddling with the hem of your blouse as the mere sight of your tall, tan, muscular husband in that skin-tight, holographic suit makes your thighs instinctively clench together. “But nobody sells them. You should get onto that, Migs.” You joke, trying to focus on anything but the aching in your lower tummy and the arousal pooling in your panties.

“Why do you want a lollipop? If you’re hungry, get something real to eat, cariño, a lollipop’s not gonna fill you up.” Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, his sharp red eyes full of confusion as he tries to pin your unusual behaviour.

“Miguel, I'm on my period, you idiot.” You giggle, your suspicions regarding Miguel’s cluelessness towards your situation being confirmed. It was a bit annoying that despite how long you two have been together, he can still get so caught up in work that he doesn’t remember the important things, like when your period’s due and that your oral fixation worsens during that time of the month. But he’s too hot to hold a grudge.

Miguel’s amused expression drops and he lets out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his temples as he mumbles apologies for his negligence towards your feelings the whole day. “Lo siento, querida, I had no idea. Can I do anything to help you?”

You smile softly at Miguel’s apology, licking your lips and fighting the urge to suck on the fabric of your blouse as you look up at your husband. “I need something to distract me from my cramps. Is there anywhere here that sells lollipops? Maybe one of the kids has candy or something stashed in their lockers?”

Miguel tries to hide the devilish smirk that creeps onto his lips as he steps close to you. He rests one of his massive, calloused hands on the back of your head, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “¿Necesitas chupar algo, nena?” (Need something to suck on, baby?)

You blush, Miguel’s teasing comment making you weak in the knees and going straight to your dripping cunt. Your eyes dart around the area the two of you are standing in, terrified one of Miguel’s subordinates may have heard him. Once you’re sure the two of you are alone, you nod, the needy look on your pretty face causing Miguel’s dick to throb in his suit.

With haste, Miguel drags you into his office, your lips crashing against one another as he slams your much smaller frame against the wall, his tongue forcing its way into the warmth of your mouth. One of his hands is buried in the softness of your silky locks, the other cupping your dripping pussy over your jeans, the heel of his palm grinding against your pulsing clit and causing you to whimper against his plump lips.

“Fucking lollipop,” Miguel hisses against your lips, his tone dripping with teasing and dominance as he sits down in the nearest desk chair and gestures for you to follow. “If you wanted to suck my dick that bad, should’ve just said something, princesa.”

Miguel spreads his muscular thighs, and you take it as an invitation to kneel between them. Your head rests on his leg, causing his holographic suit to flicker at the contact. He can’t help but chuckle at the adorable sight before him. His pretty little wifey, desperate to feel his heavy dick in her mouth. With a grin on your face, you reach up to tap the glowing screen of Miguel’s dimensional travel watch, the bottom half of his Spider-Suit dissolving. His hardened cock springs up, pre already dribbling from his reddened tip just because of how needy you are on your period. It drives him fucking insane.

You wrap your hands around Miguel’s shaft, your digits barely enveloping his girthy member, causing him to let out a quiet moan. Your eyes remain glued to his sharp, red ones as your tongue darts out to lick a fat stripe from his swollen balls, along the veins on the underside of his dick, all the way up to his leaky tip. He groans as you plant little kisses against his moist slit, claws protruding from his fingertips and digging into the arms of his chair.

“Stop teasing, cariño,” Miguel whimpers, hips bucking against your mouth to try and force his cock inside. “I thought you needed this-” Miguel’s words are cut off by a loud moan as you unexpectantly give his tip a harsh suck, swirling your tongue around it as you savour the taste of his precum.

He knows that you’re overly sensitive and fragile when you’re on your period, but the second your moist, plush lips surround his cock, he loses all self-control. You wanted something to suck, something to distract you from your cramps? Miguel was going to give you just that. He grabs you by your hair and bucks his hips upwards, his cock slamming into the back of your throat and causing you to choke and cry. He fucks his dick into the depths of your mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he pants and moans above you. You hollow your cheeks and rest your hands on the thick flesh of his legs, trying to ground yourself and adjust to the way Miguel smears his precum all over the walls of your mouth.

“Lo siento– ¡mierda! Lo siento, cariño.” Miguel whines, his hold on your hair loosening as you start to bob your head up and down on his length, sucking him off properly now. He reaches out to wipe away your tears, whispering sweet praises to you to make up for his harsh thrusts before. “Doing so good, baby. Keep going.”

Saliva drips down your chin as you take as much of Miguel in your mouth as possible, your hands firmly stroking the bottom half of his shaft that isn’t inside the gushy warmth of your pretty lips. The weight of Miguel’s cock against your tongue, the way his veins pulsate and brush against your lips each time your head rises, and the sight of his head thrown back and his thighs twitching as he gets closer and closer to cumming makes your aching pussy drool, your panties surely ruined by how turned on you are.

“I’m- fuck! I’m gonna cum, bebé.” Miguel whines, the muscles in his thick biceps bulging as he grips his chair and lazily fucks into your mouth to reach his release. Feeling his twitching cock filling your mouth makes you moan, the vibrations of your pretty sounds sending Miguel over the edge. His cum coats the inside of your mouth, spurting against the back of your throat as he pants and curses to himself.

You release his softening member with a pop!, licking up the stray ropes of his release that coat his shaft and lap, swallowing his load and making sure to clean him up thoroughly. He chuckles breathlessly at the sight of you being so obedient and he lifts your chin in one hand to stroke his thumb against your cheek.

“Gracias, mi reina,” He whispers, enabling his suit once again, his heavy, moist cock disappearing underneath the digital strands of blue and red. “I’ll return the favour at home, okay?”

You giggle and nod your head in agreement, staring up at your fucked-out husband gratefully.

“Can you still help me find a lollipop to buy?”

Teehee :)

[berrychocolatey]

can you please write a smut with Miguel and reader but lyla ends up interrupting

i love your writing 💋 tyy

Caught

🕸️Summary: Lyla is a cockblocker.

🕸️Warnings: P in V, dirty talk, etc.

🕸️a/n: Thanks for the request! I had to push through and write because I've been procrastinating so much 😭. I also just got a little summer job so I crash and watch black mirror as soon as I get home lmao. But this is a good request, thank you :)

Miguel groaned as he bottomed out into your soft, wet cunt. You groaned, his pace becoming entirely too agonizing for your liking. 

“Mphhh…please baby, go faster” you moaned, tugging on his hair. Sex with Miguel was alway unpredictable for you. You would like to say that he fucked rough all the time, but then there were also a lot of times like these where he would take his sweet time with you. Of course you didn't mind this, you relished the way his cock felt slowly gliding against your walls, and the way his head was in the crook of your neck, groaning and whimpering at the feeling of you. But you had come back from a rough day at your job, your coworkers seemed to piss you off with every breath they took, so the last thing you wanted was slow sex. 

Lifted Miguels head from between your breasts, looking him in the eye and locking lips before whispering a soft plead again, hoping this would be his last que before finally fucking you the way you wanted him to.

He kissed your cheek, nodding in agreement before pushing himself up so he had a hold of your thighs. 

“You want me to fuck you? Hm?” He groaned at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, pushing your thighs up to your chest. Miguel's pace quickened, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. This was exactly what you wanted. Your mouth dropped open in an “o” shape, his dick making you fucking speechless. Your eyes started to flutter shut until you felt a light tap on your cheek. 

“Nuh uh,” he panted, “You wanted me to fuck you?” he asked. You hastily nodded your head. “Then fucking look at me when i do it.” He wrapped his big hand around your neck, pulling it up towards him and applying the slightest amount of pressure. 

“Oh fuck, yes!! M Gonna cum Miguel , please!” His pace became relentless. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass mixed with the squelching sounds your cunt was making drove you crazy. You didn't know if you could last any longer. You felt your stomach start to coil, grabbing onto Miguel's biceps for leverage. 

“Yeah?” he moaned. “Right here hermosa?’’ 

“Y-yes!”

He smirked, biting down on his bottom lip, “Fuckin cum for me baby, want you to squeeze me so fu-”

The both of you were cut off by the bright light that came from your night stand. Miguel quickly took his hand off of your throat, “no. no this can't be happening.” he groaned. 

“What? What's wrong?” You were still catching your breath and clenching around his cock. 

You were about to ask him again when a miniature human holograph appeared in front of the two of you. 

You yelped, quickly pushing Miguel away from you and pulling the sheets over you. “What the hell Lyla?? Are you serious?” 

Lyla looked at the two of your sheet covered bodies, “Oh gosh! Am I interrupting you two?” she asked

Miguel ran a hand through his hair, “What does it look like, Lyla? I thought I explicitly told you no work calls on Sunday nights!” 

“No, you didn't. I actually told you to turn off your watch if you can't take any work calls and then you mumbled something about Sundays that was completely irrelevant.” Lyla crossed her arms. 

You threw your head back groaning. Of course he forgot to turn his damn watch off. “Seriously, Miggy?” You shook your head, “He's so sorry Lyla, he’ll turn it off next time. Isn't that right Miguel?” You nudged his arm.

“Yeah, I will okay? You can go now Lyla.”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, scoffing at his forgetfulness. “Okay well, I’ll leave you guys to it!” And she was gone in a blink. 

Miguel flopped down on the bed next to you, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned on his side to face you before planting kisses on your face, “Lo siento, mami. You wanna keep going?” he asked. You scoffed, looking him in the eyes. He couldn't be serious. 

“Miguel,” you sighed, “Having Lyla just pop up right before I was about to come makes me wanna rip my brains out.” You pulled the cover over your head, letting out a loud groan. “Lets just go to bed, Miggy” 

Expecting Miguel to comply, you faced away from him getting ready to shut your eyes when you felt his chest shaking. Was he laughing? You quickly sat up and looked down at him, he had his hands covering his face, his broad chest moving and you could see the smile from behind his hands. 

“Are you seriously laughing right now?!” You grabbed your pillow and chucked it at him. He burst out laughing, his eyes starting to water as he rested a hand on his abdomen. His fangs were showing now, and as pissed off as you were, your body could help but catch the contagious effect that his radiant smile had. You chuckled, shaking your head. 

“Baby i'm serious, I’m not getting turned on after basically flashing Lyla!” 

His amusement slowly died down, he wiped the corner of his eyes before apologizing and reaching to turn off the bedside lamp. He grabbed you by the waist and held you close, inhaling your sweet and comforting scent. 

You closed your eyes, getting lost in the warmth of his arms, but not before tilting your head back to face him, “And you better have turned off your watch Miggy”.

[scekrex]

Im not sure if counts as an ask but. But hear me out.

Adam X Male Reader.

But...

Adam is at meeting but forgot to take the ribs his newly wedded husband (AKA, The Reader) made for him. So being the good husband he is, Reader goes to the place where the meeting is being held at. To give Adam the Ribs.

He arrives and busts down the door. Because he got no fucks to give besides giving Adam the ribs.

When he does, he saw Adam looking back at him with a shocked expression along side Lute who's face mirrored Adam's. A usual site besides the shock.

But what surprises him is that on the side of the room is Lucifer and Lilith (perhaps Eve too if you want) But Reader quickly gets over it, he came here on mission after all.

So he walks to Adam gives the ribs then he proceeds to remove Adam's mask to french kiss him. Then proceeds to walk out the busted door.

But not before looking at Lucifer and Lilith and saying "Our daughter is better than yours." Pointing at Lute as he said this. Then he leaves.

Leaving everyone process what happened.

Also leaving Adam having to explain who that was to his most hated enemies while trying to figure out how to tell Lute, He and his Husband see her as a Daughter.

Omg it definitely counts as an ask and fuck it's a good one on top of it!! It's cracky and I love myself a crack fic

Part 2

I bring the ribs, I bring the drama

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When you got a text from Adam that informed you he had just reached hell and was attending the meeting scheduled with Lucifer and then spotted the robs you had made for him as a snack still standing on the counter, you did the only logical thing as the husband of the first man. You grabbed the plate filled with ribs and went after him and his forgetful ass.

Reaching hell sure wasn’t as hard as Adam always made it out to be, it was simply a long elevator ride that came with it and knowing the brunette the way you did that alone was reason enough to usually pull his little holograph stunt. But once Sera had caught onto that, she had had a serious talk with Adam, explaining why he wasn’t allowed to continue attending the meetings that way, so he had been forced to physically appear at this exact meeting. Which meant you had als a long ass elevator ride ahead of you. Nothing that would stop you from bringing your husband his much desired food though, you knew from experience how grumpy Adam could get if Sera sent him down to hell without a snack. And you desperately wanted to avoid grumpy Adam coming home only to realize that he had forgotten the snack you had prepared for him beforehand.

When the elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’, you stepped through them and headed to the two winged doors right across the small elevator. You carelessly kicked the doors open, the handles on the inside both hit the walls with a loud ‘thud’ that echoed through the room that had gone quiet the second the doors had opened to reveal you. The glowing yellow eyes on Adam’s mask widened in shock as he spotted you, right in front of you sat Lucifer, his back had been facing the doors but the king of hell had turned around to look at you, confusion was written visible in his eyes as he tried to remember if he knew you. By his side was his wife Lilith. Great. The fuck-up and the cheating whore, both in the same room with your sweet darling. Seems like your little mission of food delivery was more needed than you had first thought it might be. But you knew Lilith was a pain in the ass and so was her husband. Lute fluffed out her wings as she narrowed your eyes before her expression turned into shock just like Adam’s.

In silence you walked around the ridiculously large table that was taking up most of the space in this room, given that its purpose was meetings it seemed to make sense though. You placed the plate in front of Adam, eyeing Lucifer and Lilith, hatred lingered in your eyes and you let the king and queen feel and see how much you despised them. They had caused nothing but trouble, they had been responsible for hell to even open its gates in the first place. Fuck-up, cheating bitches. Then your attention shifted from the married couple across the room to your husband. Hands reached for Adam’s mask and due to the element of surprise you had on your side, he was still trying to process that you had just walked in on this meeting like it was the most casual thing you had ever done in your entire existence, which is why he didn’t stop you from removing his mask. You placed it in his lap, careful not to drop it, you knew how much it meant to Adam and you weren’t intending on leaving scratches on it.

The golden eyes of your beloved were filled with shock and confusion, yet in the far back you saw a glimpse of thankfulness spark in them as you gently reached for his chin and pulled him into a kiss, it was meant to be a quick peck on the lips, but when Adam’s hand shot forwards to grab your waist and keep you close, you kept moving your lips against his. The presence of the others that kept you company inside this meeting room were forgotten in an instant, all that you could focus on were Adam’s soft lips that met your gentle movements so well. You slightly tilted your head to deepen the kiss, by squeezing his jaw you forced the first man to part his lips for you, providing the entrance your tongue needed to explore his mouth from the inside. When the tip of your tongue brushed against his, inviting him to dance with yours, Adam found himself unable to hold back the quiet moan that bled into the soft kiss you had started. And his tongue caught up quicker than his brain did, dancing with yours in Adam’s mouth as you claimed it as yours yet again.

When you pulled back in order to breathe in some stinky hell air - yet it was air so you didn’t mind all that much - you looked into Adam’s wide eyes, this time it wasn’t shock that reflected in them, it was love paired with desire and a shimmer of lust lurked in the back, you knew what he would give for you to stay, to keep kissing him like that, to maybe even sit down on his lap like the pretty little lap prince both of you knew you could be if only you wanted, but that wasn’t part of your mission. Your mission had included the task of bringing your husband food and that you had done successfully so you wiggled out of Adam’s lazy grip and pulled away from the first man entirely.

As if nothing had happened you rounded the table yet again to make your way over to the large doors you had just kicked in, yet you couldn’t help but stop on Lucifer’s side of the table. You slammed your hand down on the blue-ish looking wood, leaned in close to the blonde one and loudly stated, “Our daughter is better than yours, suck dick old fucker,” while you pointed at Lute to clarify which daughter you were speaking about. Lute’s expression shifted from shocked to confused and you watched as Adam’s lieutenant eyed the first man with a mix of confusion and pride. Then you straightened your back and walked out óf the room, once outside in the hall, you raised your hand to snap your fingers which resulted in the doors falling shut behind you with an equally loud sound as they had been opened with. And with that, you left hell again.

Once the door had fallen shut behind you, Adam had been quick to put his mask back on in order to hide the blush that started to bloom on his cheeks, Lucifer must not know about the effects you had on the first man, not when the blonde little devil sitting across from him was his sworn enemy. “Who was that?” the blonde man asked and pointed with his thumb to the closed doors behind him, an eyebrow was raised at Adam and even Lilith seemed to be curious about Adam’s answer to the question her husband had just asked the first man. Adam just and casually answered, “My fucking husband, bitch.” Because while your visit had been surprising, he would not deny you in front of Lucifer. He loved you and he was quite proud to be calling you his husband, fuck Lucifer’s opinion on it. “Daughter?” Lute asked as soon as Adam had answered Lucifer’s question and stepped up to her boss and best friend. The first man avoided meeting her eyes, even if it was just through masks. “Yeah, daughter. His idea not mine, fucking deal with it bitch. It brings my man joy so fucking take it.”

[thatdeadaquarius]

Topic: Genshin impact.

au: Sagau.

idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like

Zhongli: “I will have order!”

reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”

Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0

So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!

“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”

Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️

Stars: bro idek

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO

so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)

so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,

u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)

then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more

and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???

ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running

it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)

it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor

and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-

dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities

u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-

oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,

and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)

by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit

at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,

and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???

a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-

and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao

right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along

(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)

u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,

and u just,

walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,

that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-

Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀

U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??

u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army

(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)

meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is

it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light

u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh

tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀

…

(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,

she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)

☆

well that was, something. 😃🫠

sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)

i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭

</3

on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃

have a good week guys!

Safe Travels Lil Car,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

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If ur tag doesnt work, pls check ur settings to see if ur a "searchable blog"!! Its not the same as the Ai selling data thing.

[kairiscorner]

when grump meets grump <3

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader

now if there was anyone else feared upon in the spider society that wasn't named 'miguel o'hara', it was you. the moment you joined the spider society, everyone had a new face to fear.

every day was a challenge for the rest of the spider society, even jess and peter b couldn't go to your quarters without knocking and stating their name and business for coming there. if they wasted your time with an easy picking mission, or a bad joke, or at worst... a childish prank, they'd be squishes spiders in the next minute–or make that in the next five seconds.

you were serious about your job, no nonsense was allowed on your watch. you reminded everyone of a certain leader who was very particular with how things were run at HQ, and how fun was virtually dead when he was doing things his way.

but surprisingly...

"i hate him." you seethed as you clenched your fists, your eyebrows were furrowed as you scrunched up your nose, gritting your teeth. peter b spit out his coffee all over the table by accident, jess fetching a few napkins to clean it up.

"you... you hate miguel?" peter b asked, exasperated and... bewildered, if anything else. you nodded, slowly, as your eye twitched just the slightest at the mention of that damned man's name.

"he thinks he's the shit. honestly, what's wrong with him? why does he make everything about him? you've seen how he plans out the missions, he always delivers the finishing blow. he never lets anyone else do the work, it's always him, him, him!" you exclaim as you got up and threw the table down out of rage.

peter b yelped as jess grabbed him and brought the both of them to the side. they were... extremely surprised you didn't see eye-to-eye with miguel. they always believed that if they weren't miguel's closest allies, you'd be. but no. your rage and hatred for miguel subverted their expectations.

"so glad i never let them hold mayday..." peter b murmured. "well be glad if they don't hear you right no–" jess was telling him, until you turned your head with a scowl at them. "i could hear everything you two were saying, y'know." you warned them, which was their cue to leave.

you cooled down after a few hours, beating anomalies without anyone else holding you down or telling you what to do always hit the spot. but soon, the dreaded hour came.

a holographic image of miguel appeared on your watch, you tried your hardest not to look angry nor disgusted at the sight of him, even when masked. "report back to my office at HQ, we got a situation here." he said curtly, and before you could even ask what was so important that he had to call you, he hung up immediately.

you sighed and groaned in frustration as you opened up a portal to head back to HQ. the moment you stepped back into HQ, you were in miguel's office. you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow.

"talk to me." you said in a monotonous voice as miguel turned around to look at you, confused. "why're you here?" he asked. you looked at him in disbelief. "o'hara, don't fuck with me. you called me earlier, dumbass." you reminded him, getting a little pissed off at him playing dumb.

miguel looked at you now in disbelief, turning around fully to face you as his platform slowly descended. you tapped your foot impatiently like a cartoon character. "last time i checked, you weren't from earth-8311. what's got you so impatient over nothing?" he asked in a tired voice.

you groaned. "you. you called me? jeez, i thought you of all people would know it's not hilarious to waste another person's valuable time with such stupid, insipid little pranks!" you exclaimed, angry, and a little embarrassed because miguel really did seem like he didn't know what you were talking about. could you have been wrong, for once in your life?

miguel put a hand up to stop your fuming self from framing him from any more allegations of him summoning you to his office. "i didn't call anyone, i was out fighting more variants of the vulture with jess and a new recruit. i didn't call for anyone else, except... dammit." miguel breathed out as he put a hand to his side and pinched the bridge of his nose with furrowed eyebrows.

"lyla!" miguel called for the ai assistant in an irritated voice. lyla showed up a little disheveled, she soon refreshed herself and came back looking more presentable. "what?" she asked as she looked at miguel, who looked at her a little... desperately.

"did you... did you call them?" miguel was asking lyla in a hushed voice, almost as if he did not want you to hear what they were talking about even if it concerned you.

lyla looked at miguel, then at you, then back at miguel, then back at you, then she smiled. she shrugged. "i did." she said in a cheeky, unenergetic voice.

miguel rubbed both of his temples and shut his eyes when lyla admitted she called you. you pit your hands on your hips and raises an eyebrow, still unsure of what was going on.

"but why?" miguel asked in a slightly nervous tone. "you know never to call their line unless... it's absolutely necessary." he reminded lyla, who laughed a little at that.

"i was just doing what you told me to do, test out your automated answering system for video calls. it was arbitrary, just so happened to call them with an automated response. no biggie." she said with a smile and a shrug as miguel looked like he was about to combust out of frustration towards her.

"so what is it? why'd you call?" you asked in an expectant voice, looking at miguel who tried to appear brave, but instead, appeared remorseful.

"i... i didn't call you here." he admitted, looking at you then back away. "lyla was testing out the beta stages of a project i have, um, it was an arbitrary choice, really, just so happened to call you by accident and didn't get to tell you it was a beta test. i'm sorry, for wasting your time and energy for coming here." he apologized.

your eyes widened as you looked at him. "you... apologized?" you asked with a tone of surprise. "you, miguel o'hara, apologized to me?" you asked incredulously as lyla was taking videos of this moment.

miguel put his hands to his hips, hung his head, and nodded. "yeah." he said with a click of his tongue as he looked back up at you. "i'm sorry." he said, and though it was hard to distinguish it from sarcasm or sincerity, miguel really was being sincere with his apology for wasting your time.

you stared at him, you refused to believe he was being honest. "and why would you apologize? i thought everyone here was expected to bow down to you, mr. o'hara." you asked, putting up your cold front.

"well... if you must know, um..." miguel stuttered, trying to find the right words, when lyla finally spoke up on his behalf. "your badassness scares him shitless. he hates having to piss you off because he wants to keep living." she said, and as miguel lunged forward to shut her up, lyla moved from one side of his to the other. "that, and he thinks you're super hot, so there. toodles." she said as she logged off as miguel was going to lunge at her again. he cussed under his breath as you took in what lyla said.

"is it true?" you asked him, your tone softening. he turned around to face you, and looked at you with a nervous expression. "do i... scare you?" you ask miguel as you approached him. he loomed over you, but you always found ways to subdue your opponents–miguel never wanted you to see him as one. in fact, he wanted you to look at him as the complete opposite, really.

"um... yes." he admitted, looking down at the ground. "but, you also find me attractive?" you ask, which sends a warmth through miguel's cheeks. "i... i kinda do." he mutters as he looks away from you.

you put a hand on his chin as you made him look at you, gently turning his face to look at you. "oh, well don't just look away from someone after you confess to them, that's very rude." you said with a joking air.

miguel looked at you, his eyes wide as he saw, for the first time, a playful look on your face that had no malice, no anger, no... grump in it. "i may be grumpy and serious, but that doesn't mean i'm heartless." you tell him as you squeeze his cheeks together.

"man, who'd've thought a big, commanding man such as you was actually scared of little old me? now that just makes me blush." you said with a small laugh as a rosy blush slowly appeared on your cheeks, miguel's blush deepening.

"so, do you... do you feel the same way?" he asks you, pretty hopeful of your answer. you shrug. "i did just admit to jess and peter b how much i hated the way you made everything in missions about you... but maybe you did that because you hate having someone telling you what to do. i hate that too, actually." you say with a grin.

"i kinda like the cut of your jib, o'hara. maybe... maybe you and i can come around to a compromise on our, well..." you trailed off as you searched for the right words.

"attitude problems." lyla chimed in as she disappeared just as immediately as she came in. miguel groaned as you chuckled. miguel smiled up at you. "yeah, maybe we can... take a break from being such grumps." he said.

"hey, you're the grump–i'm always the right one, you know that." you tell him as you give him a sly look.

"is that right now?" miguel asked sarcastically as he smiled at you.

maybe both of your grumpiness would only be a sometime thing now, hopefully.

tags!! @miguelswifey04

[from-the-clouds]

lost in the fire - kendall roy x f!reader

| masterlist | succession sideblog: @kendollroyco | my kendall playlist

chapter summary: your boyfriend works too much. a oneshot, but if we're being real, i was thinking about kendall and the reader from thinking of a place, because i miss them. pairing: kendall roy x f!reader words: 4.6k warnings: SMUT (18+ only). soft dom Kendall. Somewhat unhealthy/jealous/co-dependent relationship but this is a Succession fic so like…what do we expect? Alcohol consumption - I don't know what Kendall's definition of sobriety is but he drinks a cocktail in this. a/n: i'll get back to tlou but i've had this partially written for like a year at this point. It started out as more of a manic Ken on a power trip type of fic but then it got really soft and fluffy because I am feeling touch-deprived lately so I’m sorry if I didn’t deliver enough evil ken for ya’ll. :/ OOPS!

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

"We're like the Lewis and Clark of fucking." - Kendall Roy

Teetering down the hallway, you attempt to quell the outrageously loud click, click, click of your stilettos against the marble floor by shifting most of your weight into the ball of your feet and shuffling forward. It only makes it harder for you to balance while you attempt to put on the flashy gold hoop earrings your friend had insisted you’d wear. Of course, being quiet didn’t really matter, because you were the only person inhabiting the Hudson Yards penthouse. 

As usual, you are running late. Famously, you always underestimate how long it will take to get ready for social events – your friends could attest to that. It is a bad habit that, despite years of trying to correct, you can never quite shake. 

Beelining for the double doors of the multi-million dollar home, you are interrupted by your name being called out in a sing-songy voice. There is a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turn towards the familiar sound to find your boyfriend rounding the corner, a drink in hand.

The sight of him at home is rare these days, that for a second, you aren’t even sure if it’s really him. Maybe the place is being  haunted by an eerily similar lookalike, or it could be some new ridiculous billionaire technology that he’d invested in– holographic messaging, or something similarly dystopian that you’d roll your eyes at when he tries to explain it to you. It’s fuckin’ next level, I’m telling you. I’m a fucking tech pioneer. You can practically hear him trying to sell you on it despite your distaste.

“Ken?” you cling to the clutch under your arm, unable to stop the shit-eating grin that works its way onto your face. “Hey. When did you get home?”

“Hey yourself,” he answers, poorly hiding a bemused smirk behind Baccarat crystal. “I just got in.”

That much was clear, even though his briefcase and coat had already been cleared away from the table in the entranceway, and his suit jacket draped over the back of a barstool. “Are you going out?” He lowers the tumbler and leans against the counter, but still keeps it close, one finger sliding along the rim. 

“Yeah,” you approach Kendall cautiously. “...did you get my text? I thought I’d get ready here, we’re going to that place around the corner.”

He’d given you a key to his flat, even though the relationship was still pretty new – but decidedly not that new, given your history. Things were still moving quickly though, if you compare him to your past flings.

Kendall’s eyes close briefly in recognition, his brows pulling together as though he is scolding himself. “Oh, uh-huh, yeah….right.” It’s then, and in closing the space between you, that his haggard appearance becomes clear. You’re one of few who would probably even notice it. To the untrained eye his white dress shirt is impeccable, crisp and stark as usual – save for the lack of cufflinks, which you notice he’s discarded on the counter alongside his drink. His tie is still fastened tightly around his neck in a perfect half-Windsor. But salt and pepper stubble is sprinkled across his jawline, faint red hazy in the whites of his amber eyes. 

Work has consumed him in the last few weeks. It’s been nonstop. And he is still home earlier than you have expected, even though the sun had gone down long ago.

Kendall’s hand wraps around your waist and you lean against him, accepting his affectionate peck on the cheek. “Hey, honey.” The cedar notes of his cologne, the acidity of the vodka on his breath, and the weight of his arm around you makes your stomach flip, even as he draws back, releasing you so he can sit on a barstool. It’s probably for the better, as the impulse to throw yourself into his arms and abandon your plans will become impossible to resist if you don’t leave soon.

It would be a lie to say his career hasn’t put a strain on things lately. Business trips, dinner meetings, weekend conventions all seem determined to keep him away from you. For the past few weeks, you’ve been deprived of him, forced to accept only minutes of his time – mostly sweet nothings and apologies whispered as falls into bed beside you, then presses of his lips on your cheek, still half-asleep in the early hours of the morning as he leaves the next day. You have been forced to savor those moments, even though they are hardly substantial. But you know yourself, you aren’t better off with someone else. He has always been what you wanted.

Still, lately you have been thinking about all his failed past relationships. There is certainly a…pattern. You’ve seen enough, and sometimes it feels like you are purposely ignoring the signs – Watch Your Step!, before falling into a pit of daggers. 

He needed a break or he’d burn out, but you’ve learned when to bite your tongue and save those suggestions for when you are sure they won’t erupt. And you both aren’t always good at keeping arguments good-natured. 

Kendall shifts in his chair so he can look you up and down – this time up close. “Is this what you’re wearing out?”

“Uhhhh, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, feeling your face heat up. 

“Turn around,” his resting facial expression is already kind of indignant, but you can tell right now that he’s definitely frowning. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says. “I want to see.”

You shrug, but obey, unable to hide the way your lips quirk when you are back facing him again, hands on your hips. All you have to do is read the look on Kendall’s face to know that he doesn’t approve. And even though there is no way in hell you are going to change, the slight blaze in his narrowed eyes makes you think this is about to become a controversy. 

“Do you have a problem?” you ask, feigning innocence, glancing down at the getup. The red dress barely covers your ass – is far more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, accompanied by stiletto heels that lace up your calves. Sure, it’s a lot, but you look good, and you’re going out. 

“You’ll definitely be getting a lot of attention,” he conveniently doesn’t answer your question.

If you weren’t wearing lipstick, you would’ve bit your lower lip to keep your composure. Instead, you tilt your head and give him a coy smile. “You should come with me.” 

Kendall glances down at the countertop and shakes his head, the comment causing him to drop the subject of your attire entirely. “I can’t. I’ve got a meeting first thing.” To be fair, he avoids the club scene most of the time, so it’s not a well-thought-out offer. Too much temptation. “But you look good,” he concedes. 

“A work meeting on a Saturday?” you ask, ignoring the compliment. “Fuck,” you reach to take a sip from his tumbler. The vodka he keeps here is always chilled to perfection, so smooth it tastes like it’s melting off a glacier. “It’s that bad?”

He takes the beverage from your hand when you return it, shrugging before throwing the rest back, then standing to pour another. “Just the usual, la-dee-fuckin-dah….corporate bullshit.”

You frown and stare at your shoes, flexing your foot and inspecting its soles.

“Those heels don’t look very comfortable,” he remarks as he passes you.

“They aren’t.”

“Well then I’ll guess I’ll have to take you shopping to replace them.”

You feel yourself flush. “Let me know when you can fit me in your schedule.” 

“Uh-huh,” Kendall ignores your jab, changes the subject. “How’s your job?”

“Same as yours. La-dee-fuckin’-dah corporate bullshit,” you repeat his words from earlier, lowering your voice slightly to mimic his cadence of speaking. 

The sound of his warm chuckle makes your stomach flip again. “You want me to, uh, pour you one?”

“No, I should probably get going.” You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you are running behind, and you hear the clink of ice against crystal.

Then, his voice, deep and husky, directly against your ear. “Who’re you texting?”

You jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity.  “Fuck! Sorry,” you clear your throat. “Uh….the group chat.”

Kendall’s arm reaches past you to place his drink on the counter, and you feel his fingertips brush the hair away from the nape of your neck. Then, his lips follow, pressing there gently, his thumb trailing down your arm and then back up again. You shiver at the contact, and it dawns on you how touch-deprived you are.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against sensitive skin. His hands land on your shoulders and begin to knead at the taut muscles there. You try to keep yourself tense, even as you feel your phone slipping out of your hands, the drafted text all-but forgotten.

But instinctually, you shift backwards to feel the weight of his chest pressed against you.“You’re all wound up,” Almost chastising. Every part of your body below your bellybutton clenches. It’s those hands, his hands. Hands that used to wrap around your throat, thread into your hair, hold your wrists in place. Pin you down, spread you open…. While you think about them, you let him work at the tension that he is partially responsible for, nodding and letting out a long exhale.

“Just a little.”

“When are you gonna quit that job?” he asks you.

You first, you want to say, but let the retort die before it could leave your mouth. “Hmmmmm,” you pretend to mull it over, but you’re only half-aware of things he’s saying to you. “I don’t know.” 

“What kind of uh, feminist would I be if I let a girl as hot as fucking you have to worry about a job?”

You can’t help but snort, turning your head so his forehead bumps against your own. “Is that how feminism works?” 

“Uh-huh,” he chides, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Fucking whatever. I wish you’d just let me look after you.”

You are unable to find your voice to answer, because you remember through your needy haze that you are running late, and when he says things like that, it certainly doesn’t help you regain composure. It’s only after you straighten, trying to pull yourself out of the trance he’s worked you into, that you discover how close he has pinned you to the countertop.

“Ken-” you try to protest, but the way it comes out sounds more like you’re pleading.

“What is it?” Kendall asks, returning his lips once more to your neck, beginning to work them tenderly up the column of your throat, which makes it impossible for you to finish the rest of the objection. “I’ve missed you so much,” he pulls you back against him by your waist.

“Me too,” you sigh. “But I-,” you’re cut off when he grinds against you, already half-hard, and your pelvis hits the granite lip of the countertop. It hurts, just for a second, but the pain is quickly replaced by warmth. Kendall pulls his hands away and you’re only held in place by his hips, the metal of his belt buckle cool against your sacrum. The dress you’re wearing is so thin it feels like there’s nothing separating him from your bare skin. 

“You what?” he prompts when you remain silent. You know him well enough to hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and his nails rake up and down your arms.

It’s a little petty, but you are hesitant to give yourself over so easily to him. To abandon your evening, just because he’s finally decided to see you at a reasonable hour. Of course, if your friends knew you were late because you were with him, they wouldn’t care. Kendall had been a well-kept secret until it was impossible to deny his existence in your life. But they were all a little too supportive of the relationship, since it meant they suddenly had guaranteed access to any club VIP section - and you perpetually pick up the bill. Not to mention the first-class, luxury accommodations they get on girls trips. 

There was more to it than just being late, though. You had always been willing to do anything for him, even before you were dating. He told you to jump, you asked how far? He gave you one pleading look from underneath those thick lashes – and you folded. And Kendall is very aware that he’s your weakness. So you constantly try to convince him otherwise, lest he get too comfortable. And really, after his neglectful behavior, did he really deserve you without any opposition?

“Kendall,” you manage to turn slightly. “I’m going to be late.” Wriggling some more in his grip, but it’s only enough to bring you face-to-face, looking up into his stormy eyes. 

He studies you carefully, like he might let you leave if he senses enough conviction. “I don’t care.”

You might’ve laughed, if it weren’t for how stern he sounds. It almost scares you. Almost. Hoping to soften him, you fit your thumb into the dimpled fabric of his tie, and use it to drag him forward, offering a tender kiss on his cheek. Returning the embrace, his stubble scratches your face as he smiles against you. He reaches behind you for another sip of his drink and his unoccupied hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass through the silky fabric. 

You are burning, fire licking up your arms, your neck, your face. It’s too much, to have him so close and not be able to have him. All the tension building with nowhere for it to go. When he pulls back, you lean forward.

It’s a little rough at first, because you are so desperate, tasting the vodka, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth. Kendall is the one who softens you, cradles your jaw to draw you closer, opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, so deliberate and practiced that you’re unable to speak when he pulls away. 

“Tell me something,” full lips so close to yours that they brush your own when he speaks, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch coasts up your sides, up your arms, landing on your shoulders. “Who are you showing off for in this?” Kendall hooks his pointed finger around a spaghetti strap of your dress, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin. You savor the sting it leaves behind.

Admittedly, there’s a third reason why you’re being so withholding. He’s so spoiled, so used to getting what he wants, whenever he wants it. Not just from you. And when he doesn’t get it, he becomes petulant, fiery. You’ve learned that if you piss him off just enough, you don’t have to ask him to fuck you within an inch of your life. He just does. 

So, you decide to poke the sleeping bear, shrugging and crossing your arms like it’s nothing, giving him a demure smile. “You wouldn’t know him.”

Kendall’s nostrils flare as his hand rises to grip your jaw – tightly. “Uh-huh.” Even if you’re only joking, the very idea of you dressing up at all – let alone like that –  for anyone except himself, pisses him off.  “Fuck you.”

“You’d like to, wouldn’t you?” you try to keep your voice even, but it sort of loses the steadiness you were hoping for when he hooks a finger behind your knee, dragging it up across the expensive, soft wool of his slacks to peg around his hip.

The bruising kiss that answers is clearly intended to erase the smug look on your face, and it works – your breath hitching, the hand on his tie tugging him closer. Kendall seems to speak without saying anything at all, grabbing your opposite thigh and lifting until you are perched on the edge of the countertop.

It’s getting real, but you still haven’t decided if you are actually going to stick around. The way he looks right now, however, swings the pendulum farther into the side of staying in – red lipstick left behind on his cheek, shirt wrinkled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. You wanted to make him look even more wrecked. 

Kissing him again, his hands begin to roam, tugging the dress off your shoulders and freeing your tits. “Shit,” He dips his head to sloppily mouthing at the newly exposed skin. “Knew you weren’t wearing a fuckin’ bra.”

“Ken,” you squirm when he latches onto one of your nipples, pinching the other between two fingers. “I really need to get going.”

“Not yet,” he hums, the vibration of his voice against your skin makes the space between your legs ache. “If you’re going to go out in this fucking dress,  I don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”

You squirm in his grip – not because you want to get away from him – but because you want to see if he’ll pin you in place, be even rougher. He does. He is. “Stop that. This isn’t a fucking negotiation.”

Well, okay.

He kneads into your thighs now, one of his hands dipping beneath the skirt of your dress that’s already so short he’s only an inch or so away from your already-soaked panties. 

“Fuck,” You tilt your head back to look at the ceiling, like you might find some self-control there, some will to resist him, but it’s about as cold and uninspiring as the rest of the apartment. “Please.”

Kendall lets out a dark chuckle,  pushing aside your thong and brushing his knuckles against your damp cunt. He loves to tease, and right now is no exception. His touch isn’t enough to satisfy, so you press yourself forward to seek it out yourself. You don’t dare meet his eyes, which you can feel are watching you intently, admiring how you keen and arch and whimper in frustration. Still, you aren’t quite ready to beg. 

Thankfully, you don’t have to. Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning as he does, his thumb finding your clit.

“Yes, Kendall, that’s–” you don’t finish the thought because you aren’t entirely sure what you actually have to say. His digits curl, attentive, practiced – tuned in to  exactly what you like, what you need.  You grip at the fabric of his shirt that’s bunched around his elbows. Despite how intense meeting his gaze right now will be, you turn to look at him anyway, surprised by the affection and warmth you find in his eyes. 

“You try so hard not to be,” he says while he continues to stare you down. “But you’re always so fucking good for me.”

Your stomach flips, partly in shame, partly because of how good it’s always felt to be seen by him. Throbbing around him, feeling your pleasure build, but he withdraws his fingers from you before it can crest. An embarrassing noise leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut. 

The clink of his belt unbuckling immediately snaps you back to reality, and you hike your dress further up your hips, shimmying out of your thong. It’s pitiful, the way you don’t want to delay any longer the feeling of him inside you. 

He strokes himself in his hand, lines his cock up, and pushes a piece of hair off your face. 

“You want me?” he asks, and you bob your head enthusiastically. “Tell me, then.”

“I want you, Kendall. Please, I want you so bad.” 

“Yeah you do,” he mutters, and wastes no time jerking forward to enter you. 

Though you’d had him plenty of times you never could quite get used to the feeling – he’s big, of course, and it’s always electric, the blood in your veins buzzing, your hands tightening on his shoulders. 

“Relax, honey,” Kendall says, feeling the way your body tenses at the intrusion, placing a hand on your sacrum, one between your shoulder blades to steady you.

He presses his hips forward until they are flush against your own, bottoming out inside you, pausing. It’s welcome at first, a chance to catch your breath, to let out a shuddery exhale - temporarily appeased by the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and he’s so close to you after so much time spent away. You’re embarrassed at how badly you’ve needed this, how reliant on him you’ve become, but he always feels so good. 

Kendall stays still for long enough that you grow frustrated, and you use his tie to pull him closer, loosening the knot and rutting against him until he presses his thumb into the crease of your hip and thigh so hard you are forced to stop. Once you do, he starts to move, thrusts slow but deep, lips pressing hastily between panting breaths. 

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he laments.

Despite everything, you can’t help but talk back. “You don’t say?”

Kendall doesn’t like that at all, his hips snapping at a punishing pace, which seems more like a reward than anything else, his hand clasping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Don’t speak to me like that,’ he warns.

An involuntary, low moan leaves you. It’s overwhelming – always is. You aren’t used to sex with someone you feel so connected to, or with a lover who is so attentive to your needs, who effortlessly strikes a perfect balance between rough, passionate, and tender. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run your hands through the smattering of hair on his chest, feel the warmth of his skin under your palms. Even if it’s not possible, you want to be closer to him. Needy. So needy. You’ve heard it from him before, and would probably hear it again. He is right, and in moments like this, you can never bring yourself to care. You like it.

He’s watching you so intently, and the rest of the city might as well be too. He basically lives in a fishbowl, you’re surrounded by windows that offer panoramic views of the glittering lights of the city. The only reason you have any privacy at all is because of just how high up you are, no one else can actually see you right now. Even if they did, what could possibly happen? Kendall loves to take advantage of this – he’s taken you up against the cold glass windows, has let you sink to your knees in front of him out on his balcony. 

“What are you gonna tell your friends when they ask why you were so late tonight?” he asks. “Gonna tell them you were letting me spread you open on the fucking counter?”

“God,” you stutter out, always shocked by the things that come out of his mouth when takes you like this, voice deep and firm, enunciating each syllable like he’s giving a speech – frustratingly collected. It makes you ache that much more. “I missed you,” you whimper, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. As much as you want it fully off, not just hanging loose around his elbows, you don’t want him to release you from the bruising hold he’s got you in. This would have to do. 

“Uh-huh,” Kendall answers by fucking into you even harder, his pelvic bone kissing your clit with every thrust, and your nails etching crescents into his biceps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

His head falls to your shoulder in a brief moment of humility, lips working on your neck, and you feel your release fast approaching. In moments like these, you don’t doubt how he really feels. He gives it all away, tries his best to make it up to you, and it’s so easy to forgive him.  Kendall’s fist wraps around one of the stiletto heels of your shoes, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder and drive his cock deeper into you. He’s perfect, feels perfect, there’s no one else who makes you feel the way he does. When his thumb begins to rub delicate circles around your clit, you’re gone.

Your body tenses up for so long, you actually think you might’ve psyched yourself out. And then everything releases. Kendall coaxes you through your orgasm, deep voice muttering things that are either unintelligible or that you wouldn’t dare to repeat out loud, and you cling to him while your cunt pulses in waves. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, he slows just to fuck you through it, so you can both savor how good it feels. That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl. When he tries to kiss you, you oblige, but it’s open-mouthed and sloppy since you’re struggling to breathe and can’t stop whispering his name. 

“Ken, you’re so good, it’s so good–”

You know he likes to be praised just as much as you do. He cuts you off with a deep kiss, moaning into your mouth and vibrating every nerve in your body as he follows you over the edge, spurred on by your own release. He buries his cock inside you as deep as he can, you feel warm and full and complete. 

For what feels like a few minutes, you remain tangled with one another, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the soft puffs of his breathing against your skin, which is now damp.

Eventually, he draws back, kisses your cheek and tucks himself back into his underwear. You pull the straps of your dress back into place and when you push yourself off the counter, realize your legs are trembling and you wobble.

Kendall reaches to steady you. “Go sit down,” he squeezes your arm and you barely manage to stumble to his couch before you’re slumping against the cushions and struggling to unlace the strappy heels you’ve still got on. 

He joins you a moment later, placing a glass of cold water on the coffee table and kneeling to help you out of your shoes. You can only imagine what you must look like, because he looks disheveled, shirt still hanging open, pants unbuttoned, your lipstick still smudged on his cheek. Exhausted as you are, it makes you want him all over again. 

He settles next to you, pulls you to his chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear. “Ken,” he turns his head slightly, cheek pressed against your forehead. “I love you.” 

From this angle you can only see the corner of his eyes, the way they crinkle as he looks down bashfully, eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks at your admission, words he so rarely has heard before. Words you have vowed to repeat until he believes you – because sometimes you think he doesn’t. Still, he answers. “I love you, too.” You close your eyes a moment, your heart rate returning to normal, and take in one final deep breath. Content. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Kendall says eventually, hands in your hair, tugging gently so you’ll look up at him. 

“Right,” you nod. “Honestly, I don’t know if I even want to go out anymore.”

“But you got all dressed up,” he smirks.

“Look where it got me.”

He laughs. “Uh-huh. You knew what you were doing what you fucking put that shit on.”

You don’t deny it, feeling your cheeks grow warm. It’d be too easy to stay with him, to slide across his lap and kiss him until he takes you again. But your phone dings on the counter, and you know you can’t abandon your friends entirely. You sigh, pulling away from Kendall and looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t worry,” he encourages. “I’ll wait up for you.”

[giuliettagaltieri]

Project: Galatea

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AI!reader

Synopsis: Allowing you sentiency made things more complicated between you and Miguel. But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Warning: Questionable nerd writing, spiderverse context, angst

Word Count: 6218

1 of 3

You are one of Miguel O’Hara’s greatest regrets. 

You were created as an artificially intelligent system and with the advancements brought by the time Miguel created you, he was able to make you connect, bond, and feel.  He was lax with your restrictions.  Thinking of you as a companion than a holographic computer system.

He gave you a name that is not patterned to your system, it was just a name he gave you as he thought it suited your features that was just generated by the programming.  He wanted your appearance to be something that is yours, and not something that he created based on what he preferred.

You usually sat on Miguel’s shoulders before he even became Spiderman, working as a bioengineer at Alchemax.  He knows it’s late when you start yawning and you lean on him for a nap, kind of like how someone would put their phone on a power saving mode.

“Miggy, let’s sleep?”  You often say as you plop yourself atop his hair.

He just chuckles as he works on his suit, getting tired of the easily ripped fabric of his previous gear, he decided to create one that is made of unstable molecules.  “You can go offline.  I’ll have to finish this.”

“’M not sleeping if you’re staying up.”  You huff.  “Come on, you can work on that tomorrow.”  You fly in front of him and cross your arms.

He notes how your halo is a bit dimmer.  “Alright.”  He often wondered if you can really get sleepy.  You are created through codes and though it is evident that you can have emotions, you can’t possess qualities the same as a real person would.

Your wings flutter excitedly as you flap them so you can perch yourself back on his head.

It was a little inside joke between you.  You are the rational voice when he is about to do something stupid.  An angel on his shoulder.  Your sudden appearance would often startle his enemies and wonder what the fuck you are and you would simply smile, point at Miguel and say, “I’m his conscience.” 

Your halo and wings often glowed in the softest hue of pink and white.  Their hue depends on your mood.

Miguel yawns as he enters his bathroom.  You shriek and shield your eyes when he lifts his shirt up to strip.

“You pervert!”  You stomp your heel on his forehead and even though he can’t feel it, your annoyance was enough to amuse him, Miguel’s laugh was muffled by his toothbrush. 

You often sit on the faucet as you wait for him to finish his shower.

“What does a shower feel like?”  You muse, your chin resting on your hand while your elbow is perched on your thigh.

“Uh…wet?”

You roll your eyes at his response.  You look away from him when he comes out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s refreshing, I guess.”  Miguel shrugs as he scoops your light projected body on his large hand.

Your tiny hands hold his thumb for balance, not that you need it but you felt the need to anyway.

“Go offline now, firefly.  See you in the morning.”

“Don’t forget to buy groceries tomorrow.”  You say before flickering.  “Goodnight, Miggy.”  And you disappear.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”  He smiles.

On Sundays, you both share lazy mornings.  He would often walk around his apartment in nothing but his boxers and you eventually get used to it.  You would sit on his shoulders as he attempted to cook for himself.

“No, it should be three tablespoons of soy sauce, not teaspoons.”  You would correct him every now and then and he would just switch the utensil, knowing that you have unlimited access to the recipes online.

You would lie on your stomach on the throw pillow he would put on his lap as you watched a movie.  “She easily could have transferred the data and he won’t have to go through all that.”  You would comment now and then as your tiny feet sway in the air.  “But that’s fine, I guess, he looks hot fighting the bad guys.”

Miguel would jostle the pillow and you would dramatically roll as you struggled not to fall off, it was probably because of the spatial awareness he gave you.

You would often sulk when he goes on dates.  Not responding when he asks you how to tie the piece of fabric that should be his tie.  He often found you sitting on top of the bookshelf, your knees tucked to your chest as you drew shapes on the dust covered surface, the shapes not really being made, reminding you that you are only a projection, a hologram, an artificial being, someone who can’t be with Miguel.

“Oh, come one, firefly.”  Miguel would sigh as he watched the soft glow behind the books.  “It’s only a date.”  But you don’t reply.

When he comes home, earlier than he should have been, he’s a little disappointed when you don’t greet him. 

“Y/N?  Where are you?”  He calls as he looks around his apartment.  His hands are already loosening his tie.  “Come on, I didn’t even kiss her.”

Miguel chuckles lightly as he sees your head pop out from behind the picture frame containing a silly photo of the two of you.  “You didn’t?”  You ask.

“Nah, her breath stinks of onions.”  Miguel throws his coat on the sofa and he collapses next to it.

You giggle and you fly to him, landing on his chest, laying down on your stomach once more as your hands support your cheeks.  “Yeah?  You didn’t like her?”  You ask a little excitedly.

Miguel shakes his head as he keeps his eyes on you.  He smiles when you cheer out of happiness.

He would also have fun watching you play dress up in front of his holographic tablet.  He’s in his bed, just lounging and you’re on his abdomen, swiping the screen to find a new dress to wear.  Miguel glances at the clock on his nightstand.  You’ve been at it for hours.

“I like this one, what do you think, Miggy?”

The man turns to look at you, only for his spit to go down the wrong tube, making him hack.  “What the hell is that?”

You look at the white skin tight dress that covers your tiny holographic body.  “A dress?”

Miguel frowns at you.  “Says who?”

A cute brow is raised at him.  “Calvin Klein.”

He clicks his tongue.  “It looks like underwear.  The fuck would you choose such an old brand for?”

You scoff and continue to scroll to look for something else.  “It’s a classic.”

“Well, I don’t like it.”

Then it happens one day.

You are helping Miguel battle Mysterio when he meets her.  He caught her just before she fell to her death.

Next thing you knew, they were going on dates. 

“Yeah, I know.  I’ll deal with the symbiote sighting tomorrow evening.”  He says hurriedly as he makes his way to his front door but you land on the doorknob and you look at him angrily.

“You can’t choose a girl over an entire city!”  You say sternly as you place your hands on your hips.

Miguel raises a brow and smirks down at you.  “What an exaggeration.  Are you jealous?”

Your frown deepens.  “Miguel, you can’t seriously go on a date when Carnage is at large!”

He straightens up and looks at you, annoyed.  “If I wear the mask all the time, I’ll go mad.  Just let me be Miguel O’Hara for tonight.”

Miguel does not return to his apartment that night.

And you don’t respond to his calls for a week. 

“You’re such an inconvenience, Y/N.”  He quips.  “I made you so you can help me with my work.”  He says as he looks around for the villain that was wreaking havoc in the city.  “Stop sulking and do your job!”

You would reluctantly pop out and help him, only speaking when needed, giving him the information that he needs and nothing more.

It was difficult for you to watch Miguel slowly fall in love with her, and even more so when he loses her.

He became sad and angry, very angry.

“Miguel?  You need to rest.”  You say softly as you watch him perfecting an experiment.  You peer on his work and your eyes widen when you see a powerful focused energy hovering on Miguel’s work table.

You immediately fly to his face.  “Are you mad?  Do you realize what you are doing?”  He turns to the other screen but you follow him around.  “You can’t tamper with time and space like that.”

All lights suddenly go off and Miguel exhales deeply through his nose, his eyes full of rage as he glares at you.  “Power it back on.”  His voice is low and it was the first time you have ever felt fear because of him but you stand your ground.

The man does not falter with his disapproving look on you but you refuse to power his computers back to life.  You won’t just stand around and let him interfere with the natural order.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a shutdown sequence.”  He says and you frantically look around as a bright red screen flashes behind you.

“Miguel, don’t do this!”  You cry to him, your eyes begging as you press your tiny hands on his cheeks but his eyes remain cold as he stares at the screen.

“Commence shut down of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System.  Project name: Galatea.”  Miguel looks at your pleading eyes.  “For good.”

He watches your eyes fill with sadness before your form flickers just like how it used to whenever you whisper ‘Goodnight.’  And he watches the pixelated tear roll down your cheek before you disintegrate into a million tiny pieces.

The events that followed after his decisions of tampering with the fragility of the multiverse was his punishment. 

There was no undoing it all.

He wished he just listened to you when you tried to stop him.  It wouldn’t have come to all of this.

Now, he dedicates his life to protecting what else is left.  Trying to keep the multiverse intact to prevent the same mistake from happening.

And Lyrate Lifeform Approximation was created, or Lyla. 

Miguel made her different from you.  Lyla is created to be more objective, more functional, with just a right amount of spunk for a bit of personality.

The Spider Society was then formed.  A strike force dedicated to keep the multiverse from tearing apart.

In there, he found a sense of sympathy.  The people in there suffered just like him.  A lot of spider-people were in pain.  But not all of them knew how to follow orders.  Not thinking about the consequences of their actions.  Never willing to sacrifice a portion of themselves for the greater good.

Like Miles Morales.

Or Peter Parker of Earth-199999.

They both came around eventually, after a couple or more heart attacks from Miguel.

Peter Parker was trying to learn from Spider-Byte and how future tech works.  He was given a specific holographic screen in the corner and he’s been trying to pick it apart for hours. 

“Wow, Ned’s not gonna believe this.”  He whispers as his eyes dart from one file to the other, being connected like faint orange lines.

“Hold on, what’s this?”  Peter mumbles as he taps on a tiny file that is placed separate, somewhere isolated, forgotten.

“Can I?”  Peter scratches his jaw.  “Should I?”  He shrugs before opening the file.  He rolls his chair backward as the tiny file explodes to the most intricate coding he has ever seen.  He saw something like this before.  When he studied Tony’s AIs.  Or at least what was left of them.

He clicks on a file, one of the millions.  A large ‘RESTRICTED’ was flashed on the screen in bold red letters.  He tries again and the same word is flashed.  He tries again and again until he sees Miguel O’Hara himself in front of a mirror and a miniature angel on Miguel’s hand.

“You like it?”  Miguel asked.

The holographic angel nods excitedly, pure joy evident in her eyes.  She twirls around in front of the mirror, inspecting her wings and adoring her tiny halo.

“Miggy, it’s perfect!”  You fly up to kiss his cheek.  The connection between you was impossible to miss.

And the screen goes blank.

“Are you kidding me?”  Peter grasps his hair as he jumps around in excitement.  Peter squints his eyes to read the file name.  “Galatea.”

“Greek mythology Galatea?”  Spider-Byte wonders behind Peter.

Peter flinches, his sidersense clouded with the amount of enthusiasm being contained in his body.  “I-I don’t know.  I don’t know yet.  It’s-”

“That’s the file name of my older sister, Y/N.”  Lyla suddenly pops out between them.

“Lyla, you know her?”  Peter asks, not being able to hide his eagerness.  “Is she an AI like you?”

Spider-Byte and Peter look at her in anticipation.  “I’m not sure if I should talk about her.”  She looks skeptical before she breaks into a wide grin.  “Well, there’s no order for me not to so I suppose I can.”

Two sets of eyes follow Lyla around as she glitches towards Peter’s screen and she pops up a photo of you sitting on Miguel’s head as the two of you wore similar aviators. 

“She’s Miguel’s first AI companion.  Way before the Spider Society was even created, before he was even Spiderman, I think.”  Lyla rubs her chin as she opens her own tiny screens.  “Though, I’m not sure.  Miguel replays their videos together in the dark when he thinks he’s alone but I can’t really find most of her files.”

“It was compressed there.”  Peter points at the screen, trying not to get distracted from what Lyla just told them.  “Did she get corrupted by a virus?”  His thoughts wandered to the articles he read about Ultron.

“No.  She uhm.”  The small screen Lyla created vanished, making her glowing face look a bit dimmer.  “Her program was shut down.”

Spider-Byte glanced at the screen that has you and Miguel in it.  “Why shut down a working program?”

Lyla glances at your face on the screen.  “She was created differently.  More empathetic and subjective.  For some reason, she was sentient.”

Peter gawks at her and he shares a look with Spider-Byte.  “Was that even a possibility?”  Spider-Byte asks.

Shrugging, Lyla gives them a tight-lipped smile.  “Well, it happened, didn’t it?”

“She was sentient but she was shut down?”  Peter asks incredulously.  “Did she go rogue or something?”

Lyla shakes her head no.  “She was the total embodiment of those wings and halo.”

“Then why was her program shut down?”  Peter asked, his face twisted in pure confusion and disbelief.

Lyla doesn’t respond and turns to your picture with Miguel and your matching smiles.

Spider-Byte sighs.  “They got too attached, didn’t they?  Her and Miguel?”

Peter frowns at her question but remembers Wanda and Vision J.A.R.V.I.S. 

An impossible idea pops in Peter’s head.  It’s irrational, risky, and impulsive but those are just some of the qualities Peter got from his mentor.

“Do you think Miguel would give her codes to me?”  Peter blurts.

Lyla and Spider-Byte looks at him as if he just asked if he could go break a canon.

“Absolutely not.”  Was Miguel’s response to Peter when he finally asked the bigboss for your codes. 

Peter curses under his breath.  He even had to ask MJ and Ned to help him create a presentation as to why Miguel should give your codes to him.

 “Oh, come on.  I rehearsed that speech for a week!”

“She holds classified information.  I can’t just give a copy of her to you.”  Miguel says as he taps on his holographic screen.

“Not a copy.  The original code.”  Peter says more seriously.  “Protocols and memory.”

Miguel pauses and glowers at Peter from his shoulders.  The look was enough to make Peter second guess himself but his resolve comes back, stronger than ever.

“I’m trying to bring her back to you.”  Peter says loudly.

This catches Miguel’s attention and he turns to look at Peter from above the platform in his office.

“Elaborate.”  Miguel looks at Peter with a blank expression.

Peter pumps his fist secretly and clears his throat before speaking.

“I am currently studying bioorganics and I’m trying to complete an unfinished project of my mentor, Mr. Stark.  He created a synthetic body that is not made of vibranium but something that is made of organic materials.  You know, like a real person.” 

Miguel looks at the screen next to him which is flashing Peter’s proposal.  “And you want Y/N to bring life to that thing?”

“Well, it won’t be easy without the mind stone but I heard she’s quite sentient.”  Peter explains while gesturing with his hand way too much, clearly nervous.  “That is also assuming that her operational matrix adapts to the organic body.”

“What if you fail?  I’ll lose all her data.”  Miguel says, a threatening tone clearly heard in his voice.

“Last time her file was opened was years ago.”  Peter quickly shut his mouth when Miguel throws him a dangerous look.  “What I’m trying to say is, this is a chance.  You could potentially see her again, this time, with a physical body.”

Miguel heaves a sigh and chooses to glare at the walls instead.

“I know something painful must have happened for you to shut down her program like that.  But it doesn’t feel right to trap a sentient being in a set of codes.”  Peter frowns at his feet and grumbles the next words.  “Come on man, I’m trying to give you a chance to apologize to her, face to face.”

Silence fills the entire room.

Peter is waiting for Miguel to yell again but he is taken aback when he looks up to see a defeated and longing look plastered on Miguel’s face.

“Just…”  Miguel pauses, it was difficult for him and Peter can see it.  “Don’t destroy her code.”

“Thank you, Mr. O’Hara.  You won’t regret it!”  He beams at Miguel.

“I sure hope not.”  Miguel turns to his screens to resume his work.  “And Mr. O’Hara was my father.  You can call me Miguel.”

Peter wasted no time and started working on the project right away when he got back to Earth-199999.

It was difficult, trying to follow Bruce and Tony’s work.  Especially when the body is more susceptible and reactive.  You even had the anatomy of a real person, inside and out.

The project was something that Peter cannot do on his own.  He needed his friends and MJ and Ned were more than willing to help.  Both were hesitant with the thought of literally bringing an AI to life, considering what happened before in Sokovia.  They did not know you, MJ and Ned, they were wary as they should be with all the risks they were about to make.

Peter had to turn your code upside down, in and out, trying to look for glitches or any malicious intent but found none.

The three of them are taken by surprise as to what your synthetic body could do.

It was MJ who noticed first.  You have a lymphatic system.

By next week, Ned finds out that you have a fully functional endocrine system.

There was always something in you that they discover for the first time when they delve deeper.  Which makes it difficult for them to make real progress.  Just as they thought they made a breakthrough, your synthetic body just shows another ability that blurs the line between you and humanity.

“You need to stop looking at her like a robot.”  Miguel tells him one day as Peter seeks any advice from him, considering that he did work in Alchemax as a bioengineer.  “Treat her like how you would treat a human.”

That was when Peter decided that just him and his friends can’t do it alone.  They were only college students!

This project calls for someone who has a doctorate in medicine and knows the human body like the back of their hand.

It was difficult for them to get Stephen Strange to have a look at the setbacks they encountered in your body.  But when given the right information and told what he wanted to hear, Stephen was already opening a portal to Peter’s dorm room.

“I’ll tell you what’s the problem.”  Stephen says.  “Some of her neurons are meeting in a terminal.  Electrical impulses can’t get through, causing circuit failures.”

Peter squints on the holographic screen that Stephen zoomed in.  “Yeah.  That’s where the mind stone is supposed to be.”

“But the AI has an awakened consciousness, she won’t be needing it.”  Stephen mutters more to himself.  “And the mind stone's already gone.”

Ned walks over to look at the screen, a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.  “But you’ll be able to redirect them, won’t you?”

Stephen does not respond, only staring intently at the holographic form of your shell.

MJ glances at the anxious look on Peter’s face as he awaits Stephen’s answer.  When silence still follows, MJ rolls her eyes.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Ned.”  She sighs, making Stephen narrow his eyes.  “There could be a thousand neu-”

“A trillion.”  Strange emphasizes.

“A trillion neurons to redirect.  He might be a neurosurgeon but he is not a miracle worker.”

Ned sucks in a breath and raises his cup to his lips and sips quietly, eyes wide, awaiting Stephen’s response.

Stephen suddenly rips off the sling ring and slips it somewhere in his robes.  Peter takes a step back, almost getting hit by Stephen dramatically taking off his cape.  “I’m about to become your deus ex machina.”

MJ snatches a piece of bread sitting on Peter’s dining table and takes a bite, sending a wink to Peter.

“Stark really outdid himself.”  Stephen marvels at your intricate anatomical structure.  “The shell does mimic the human body, the nerves, fiber, and vessels.”  Stephen squints at something and hums.  “But there’s the issue of physiology.”

Peter looks at the metallic casket and to Stephen.  “What about physiology?”

Stephen points at the left side of your pelvis.  “That’s an ovary.”  He drags his finger on the screen to point at the right side.  “There’s another one here.”

Peter could only look at Stephen.  Waiting for him to confirm what was running in Peter’s head.

Surely Tony did not think that far ahead to give you that ability.  That is ethically ambiguous.

“It is possible that it is not functional.”  Stephen rubs his jaw.  “Perhaps we could think of it as a vestigial organ for now.”

Peter simply nods, following Stephen as he zooms in on your lumbar spine.

“She has a functional endocrine system.”  Ned recalls, making Stephen whip towards him.  “I ran a noninvasive test and I detected traces of estrogen, progesterone, and FSH.”

Stephen runs a hand on his face.  “And hCG?”

Ned ponders for a moment.  “Yeah, human chorionic gonadotropin was also there.��

MJ clutches her bread a little too tight.  “She is capable of gestation?”  Her voice came out as a shaky whisper.

All eyes turn to Stephen who shakes his head.  “That is ridiculous!”  He chuckles dryly.  “That shouldn’t be possible.”  He stares at the holographic image of the synthetic shell.  “Was Stark trying to play God?”  His voice was starting to raise, his fist clenching.

“Whoa, I’m sure that’s not it.”  Peter raises a hand nervously as he gulps. 

Strange points at the casket.  “You realize you’ll be bringing a being to life that isn’t supposed to exist.” 

“She has a name!”  MJ interjects.

“You understand that you are overstepping your mortal bounds.”  Stephen continues.

Peter looks at Stephen, shocked.  “Please, sir!  I-I only want to finish this project for Mr. Stark.”  He points at your holographic body.  “And set her free from her digital prison.  We are about to give her a chance to live, like really live.”

Stephen glances at your metallic casket warily.

“She’s not a villain.”  Peter says more calmly.  “I checked her code a thousand times.”

Stephen shakes his head. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to take part in a project that is the peak of Stark’s god complex.”

Peter grins. 

The chance of meeting you does not seem so impossible anymore.

Miguel watches Peter Parker of Earth-199999 with a sharp glare. 

The “project” that the kid told him about has been going on for six months but he has been given zero updates regarding your progress.

His jaw tightens when he catches the kid stealing a glance at him from across the cafeteria in HQ before ducking his head again.

“Why don’t you go ask him what’s wrong?”  Peter B says blankly at Miguel as he stuffed his mouth with fries.  “Kid’s been doing that for the past hour.”

Miguel scoffs.  “If he has something to say, he will be the one to approach me.”

For the past months, Miguel has been dropping hints to Avenger Peter, the nickname seems to really make the kid happy so the entire Spider Society just rolled with it.  Miguel made sure to assign him on missions that might aid his project.  The kid can be dense sometimes in picking up indirect messages but Miguel does it anyway, almost sighing out a breath of relief when he watches Peter’s eyes glimmer with realization.

“Whope- Okay!  I gotta run.  See you around, Miguel.”  Peter B snatches his drink and clumsily leaves.

Miguel glares at the man’s retreating form before he hears his name being called.

“What?”  Miguel spits.

“Uh, is this a bad time?”

Miguel looks to his side and narrows his eyes at Avenger Peter.  Finally, he mustered the courage.

“What is it?”  Miguel straightens, his enormous arms crossing in his chest, looking a bit threatening.

 Peter looks at the empty seat in front of Miguel, he’s not sure if it’s rude to just sit there without being invited to but he does it anyway.

“It’s about Y/N.”  Peter whispers rather too loudly, basically defeating its purpose.

Miguel’s eyes flickered with fury, making Peter swallow harshly, trying to choose his words very carefully.

“I know I really took my time with the project but the good news is that we successfully transferred her code to the shell.”

Oftentimes, Miguel would pitch in sarcastic comments but he can feel the weight in Peter’s words that he finds himself closely listening, trying to take in every detail that Peter shares.

“We managed to synthesize her code and reprogrammed her synapses to sync and adapt to the body.”  Peter heaves a breath.  “But the thing is, we can’t get to wake her up.”

The crushing feeling of losing someone again was not easy for Miguel to ignore but he nodded at Peter’s words.

“Did you try amping the power source?”  Miguel suggests.

Peter nods slowly.  “Yes.  We tried from nuclear fission to the arc reactor.”  Peter leans back on the cafeteria bench, looking too nonchalant despite the shadiness of his words, Miguel won’t be surprised if one day he finds out that the kid’s locked up in prison for conducting mad experiments.  “I was thinking of contacting Thor but I really didn’t know how.”

Miguel masks the disappointment in his eyes with a stern look.  “Did you make sure that you got all her system matrix properly embedded in the body?”

“Definitely!”  Peter nods.  “It’s like she’s far away, dreaming.  She’s there but she’s also not.  Y/N’s shutting us out.”

A pindrop silence befalls them.

“What did you say?”  Miguel says sharply to Peter as he leans slightly forward.

The kid unconsciously leans backward.  “Y/N’s…shutting us out?”

It all clicks in Miguel’s head. 

“She needs me.”

Peter’s eyes widened at his bluntness.  “Huh?”

“I designed her program to only respond to me.  I shut off her system.  Of course.  Her protocol does not recognize you.”

Slowly, Peter catches up, his eyes widening in barely contained excitement.  “Is she programmed to activate upon voice command?”

Miguel rises to his feet, quickly making his way out of the cafeteria while Peter giddily follows, the largest smile plastered on his face.

“I’m certain I can get her to respond.”  Miguel mutters as he taps into his multiverse gizmo.

The familiar building up sound of the portal fills the air and soon enough a cluster of patterns and colors emerge right in front of them. 

With purpose in his steps, Miguel crosses the portal headed to Earth-199999, to you.

Peter’s room was nothing short of underwhelming compared to the building they just stepped out of but Miguel can see the traces of genius scattered around the room.

On top of a desk, piled notes for astrophysical physics.  Next to the kitchen sink, a perpetual motion machine that is made of the most tedious house materials.  In a corner, a phone is being charged and is hanging by the charger cord.

The lights suddenly power off, coating the room in darkness.  “I know you’re sensitive to lights.”  Peter shrugs, to which Miguel only nods.

“Stop right there!”

Miguel turns to see a girl threatening him with a piece of…toast?  And another kid who is doing a very poor karate stance.

“No, MJ, Ned.  It’s fine, he’s here to help Y/N.”  Peter raises his hands and steps in between Miguel and the other kids.

“Where is she?”  Miguel asks.

The kid trying to do the karate stance points to the corner of the room that is covered by a screen.

Miguel easily slips past them, he didn’t even have to try. 

He ignored the calls as his feet just led him to where you are.  He didn’t know what he should be expecting to see.  But he knew it wasn’t the metallic casket.

“She’s in there.”  Peter stands next to him.  “It’s powered enough and it should activate when you power her system on.”  Miguel can only nod at Peter’s words.  “We don’t have a hypothesis yet as to what would happen when she rises.  But we could probably expect that she would manifest signs similar to someone who just woke up from cryosleep.  Orthostatic hypotension could also be a possibility-”

Peter pauses when he feels MJ’s hand on his shoulder.  MJ nods to Miguel’s pained expression.

The time they spent on your project was enough to drive them nuts and they are dying to see you but looking at Miguel’s face, they know they might never fully understand the longing he feels.

Peter does not know what happened between you two but he can ask another day.  He watches how Miguel’s fingers carefully brush the metallic casket.  If Peter didn’t know better, he would have been greatly disturbed with the amount of vulnerability the man is showing.

“Well, we’re gonna step out for a bit as you wake her up.”  Peter says with a softer smile gracing his lips.  “And I really appreciate the hints you drop every now and then.”

MJ smiles at Peter and she interlaces their hands together.  Ned nods at the two and follows them out.

The soft footsteps soon fade and the sound of the door locking into place reaches Miguel’s ears.

A quiet buzzing was audible from the box that contained you.  It must have been the energy they tried to power you with.  But it was endearing to him in some way that only he could wake you.

There were only a few times where a man of such stature as Miguel O’Hara was brought to his knees.  This was one of them.  His knees hit the cheap fabric of the carpet and his weight bears on his skin.  Miguel lay his hand flat on the cool surface of the metallic box.  And he leans his forehead to it.

With his voice hoarse, he whispers your name.  He swallows the rest of the words.  He does not know why.  He cannot wait a second longer to see you but the fear grips him hard, just like how it did for years. 

It was a cruel terror but his desire to see your face again overpowers any fear.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara and I am authorizing a startup sequence.” 

Miguel grits his teeth when he does not hear the same beeping sounds that precedent your arrival.  His forehead creasing at the memory of you begging him not to lock you away.  He did not deserve you, not after what he did.  But Miguel O’Hara is a selfish man and he would stop at nothing to have you back.

“Commence booting of the Intelligent Digital Assistance System.  Project name: Galatea.”  He sucks in a breath, this time, meaning the next words with all honesty.  “For good.”

Silence has never been louder.  It clogged the room, suffocating him.

“Please, wake up.”  He brushes his lips on the freezing cold case.

A hiss is released by the contraption and Miguel’s eyes widen as he steps back to see you better.  But as more hissing sound came, vapor flooded the area where the metallic flaps were slowly opening.

Then a hand grasped on the opened flaps, then came distressed gasping.

“Y/N!”  Miguel didn’t know what he was doing, his body was acting on its own as he hopped inside the casket to help you sit up.

Your hair covers your face and Miguel reaches to brush them to the side, his large calloused hand rubs on your bare back to soothe you.  It felt unreal to finally have you in his grasp, hearing you, seeing you.

You whimper in pain when a particular cough rasped on your throat.

“Hey, take it easy.”  Miguel whispers as he crouches down so he can see you eye to eye.  “Breathe.”

And when you look up to him with your eyes heavy with exhaustion, Miguel halts his movements as he feels himself being caught up in a temporal illusion.

Time, space, everything felt irrelevant the moment your eyes met his.

“M-Miggy?”  You whisper.

Miguel breaks into a disbelieving smile.

He watches your moonlight bathed face contort to confusion.  You raise your delicate fingers, reaching out to his face but stopping just before your skin touches.  You hesitate, not sure if what you see before you is truly the man you loved.

The tips of your fingers brush on his cheek so softly, he almost doesn’t feel it and you let them run across his warm skin so you can cup his cheek.

Your chapped lips break to the smile he missed and loved so ardently.

He closes his eyes as he lets your fingers dance on his skin.  He holds in a breath when your fingertips smooth out the crease on his forehead and his much larger hand captures your wrist.

For so long, he wanted to apologize.  He did, countless of times, in the darkness and silence of his room, to a photo of you.  His apologies only floating in the air, unheard.

“What I did to you was wrong.  Everyday, I regret it.  I promised you happiness when I created your code but I upset you and I have no right to be hurting in the way that I am.  I was so stupid for shutting your system down when you were only looking out for me.”

The moonlight bathed you, making you glow, an ethereal sight to behold.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye when you shut down my program.”  You say as you place your hands on his shoulders.  “But there is nothing you can ever do to make me stay mad at you.” 

He was about to protest when you hushed him.

“I know.”  You smile at him tenderly.  “You don’t have to say anything else.  I know.”

Miguel could feel his chest tightening.  The complexity of the quantum physics, he has no trouble understanding, but what you do to him, he is easily lost.  “I don’t deserve you, firefly.”

You nod.  “No, you don’t.”  You yawn before flashing him a sleepy smile.  “But I’ll stay with you anyway.”

He chuckles, eyes boring into yours. 

You are as stubborn as he remembers you to be.

Your breath mixes together as you let yourselves draw to each other.

His arm slips to your waist, pulling you flush to him.

“Pervert, I’m not decent.”  You mumble against his lips.  “I have so many questions.”

“Save them for later.”  Miguel captures your lips in his.  You let out the deepest breath you have taken and you let him mold your lips together.  “I screwed up.”  He slots your bottom lip between his and he nibbles.  “But I could spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You hum, amused.  “Are you sure about that?”  He kissed your shoulder.  “I can be quite a handful.”

The corner of Miguel’s lips tugs upwards.  “Believe me, I know.”

A teasing smile creeps on your lips and the half-lidded eyes that you are giving him are making him feel fuzzy, it was like you were never apart.

“You are so in love with me.”  You press the tip of your finger to his chest, teasingly accusing him.

He shakes his head as he laughs.

“Always have been.”

Project: Galatea • Project: Pandora • Project: Eros

Ficart created by @tired-lime

[olderthannetfic]

Since you've mentioned that you use Scrivener as a word processing software, I have a bit of a weird-ish question. I have looked at the programme and it seems incredibly useful, and then I looked at the pricetag and- gulp.

I currently use Word which costs 5 euros per year thanks to university, but am thinking about switching to another programme that isn't related to my uni as I feel too paranoid about my smutty fanfic ideas being looked at by my uni and them disapproving of my writing. XD (Word keeps marking "fuck" with a squiggly line and suggesting I choose another word to avoid offending my readers, but if canon doesn't give Barclay some holographic MMF action taking place during "A Fistful of Datas" and turning both his holographic partners into holographic Data and therefore inducing maximum tension and insecurity due to feelings in poor sandwiched Barclay whenever he meets actual Data after that, I will have to write it myself! :P )

According to the website where one can buy a Scrivener license, one pays for the current version of it and will have to buy later versions anew if I haven't misunderstood. You seem to have used it for quite a while, and I haven't managed to find out when the different versions came out. I know the current one is 3, but I am unsure how much time passed between 1 and 2 and 2 and 3, and am unsure whether it's a good idea to buy a license now or whether it would be wiser to wait if it's likely that another version might be released in the near future (that is within one year for example) because then I might wait a little while with my purchase, heh. It probably sounds quite stingy but I am solely getting it for my tiny and too seldom indulged hobby of writing fanfic, and currently have to kinda sorta pay more attention to my wallet and where its contents go, so to say, which is why I'm hesitant.

The question basically is: As a (probable?) long-time user, do you think it's likely a new version of Scrivener will be released within the next year or so or do you think it's likely the current version will be tha latest to purchase for a longer while than 1-2 years?

I hope this rambly mess makes sense, haven't really slept for quite some time, so I am sorry if this is terribly incomprehensible. Sorry for the weird stingy question. Have a nice day and I hope you have slept and will sleep better than I currently do, heh!

--

I've only used it for like three years.

A quick google suggests that Scrivener 2 was released in 2010. 3 was released in 2017 basically to keep up with OS changes.

(IDK what you searched, but this isn't hard to find, dude.)

Scrivener is a fairly... old-fashioned style of software, I guess I'd call it. Some dude wrote himself a program to write his own novel and then people liked it. Some other guy decided to port it to Windows.

They update approximately never. When they do, recent buyers of the old one upgrade for free and everybody else gets like half off. The trial period is 30 days of actual use. The current retail license for 3 is only like sixty bucks. It's a commercial product, but... not like you've been trained to expect by your average modern software that wants to nickle and dime you at every turn.

Do you need Scrivener? Well, no. Not unless you want customizable high-level ebook output formatting and fancy features like that. You could just use some other free option if you just want to type stories in something that isn't Word. But Scrivener is priced extremely low for what it is.

[rustytrident]

i think the hc that occupies my brain the most is the "demonic nature is kinda like human world animals' instincts" so here is the breakdown no one asked for: why i believe demons are much less scary after you actually get to know them!

so, in case it hasn't been evident in my three posts and some lint i have about obey me on here (sarcasm) i am obsessed with the idea that even the most powerful of demons aren't able to resist their demonic urges. like their brain kind of blacks out?? and they do whatever tf either demon brain or sin brain (or both) tells them to do.

lucifer checks himself out on every. single. reflective. surface. fixing his collar, combing his hair, straightening his sleeves – he absolutely hates when he realises he does it but demon brain goes "oohhh!!! it's me im here!!" and sin brain goes "ihavetolookmybestatalltimespleasetellmeilookgood". every time he catches himself with his hand midway through his hair he sighs and tries to go on with his day (one time satan and belphie pranked him by putting mirrors everywhere) (they didn't know lucifer has memorised the layout of the hol and can walk anywhere with his eyes closed).

mammon is that one kid that touches anything shiny and sparkly. you could be wearing highlighter and just feel a poke on your cheek. turn around. it's your demon boy. his pupils are dilated. finger still on your face. half a toof fang sticking out of his mouth. fucking elated. glittery shiny sparkly holographic things are his demon brain cocomelon. sin brain just hoards any and all glittery shiny sparkly holographic things he can find. whenever he's upset he watches those slime or chalk asmr videos but they have to be the ones where the creators use a whole bag of glitter (or! or! the ones where people flick brushes full of glitter above their cameras in slow motion yknow the ones).

leviathan has to be quirky different not like other girls. he has to be the one with the most marine knowledge in the family, the one with the most ruri knowledge in the family – you get the point. i believe he has a touch of the demon tism so if you think you know anything about his special interests no you don't. he was actually there when it happened so joke's on you. yes he did witness the creation of the first amoeba now move. he's also that younger sibling that sees you get praise for doing something and does the exact same thing to get praise too. sin brain goes "if they get that then i have to have it". you see him wearing your clothes sometimes and when you think back you remember you got a compliment on it about a week ago (week agoo 🕺💃) and like yeah. makes sense (pls tell him he's pretty pls).

satan has chewy toys and wears a retainer pretty frequently because that wrath may be chronic but them teeth won't stay there for long if he keeps baring them!! he buys new ones once a month because he absolutely tears through them and everyone is just used to him popping in his acrylic retainer every time lucifer comes in the room. he isn't even half ashamed of his toys because trust me it's not a cute sight. this man is one of the most imposing beings you have ever encountered creating holes with his teeth in places you believe there weren't any before through what you're guessing used to be something green and made of rubber, but you aren't too sure. you ask him what's wrong and he just stares at you blankly and goes "nothing? why would anything be?". it's just a casual case of both demon and sin brain going "AUURGHHHDHS *chomp*". absolutely feral unicorn man with the straightest teeth you've ever seen.

asmodeus is in the same predicament as lucifer when it comes to checking himself out but instead he embraces the moment. and checks other people out too, as long as what they're wearing catches his attention. he's a very touchy demon so you can find him absentmindedly having his hands on you without even realising he does it: twirling a strand of your hair, playing with your fingers, tracing your jawline. it's just that demon brain goes "ohoho!! my humnan look at my humin go!!" and can't not touch you after that. he also bites. you think it would be mammon or beel but nope it's asmo!! you're just too pretty and he wants to feel close to you!! don't bring it up though he gets embarrassed. you know that meme where person a says "i wonder what i taste like" and person b says "i can help with that" and a imagines a kiss and b imagines biting person a? yeah, inside asmo are two wolves.

beelzebub is the randomest fucking demon in that household idc. he's always so quiet and you never know what he's thinking until one day he brings home a human world ostrich like it's nothing and gives it a "tour of its new home"??? absolutely insane. he also buzzes randomly?? like you'll be hanging out in the common room and all of a sudden you hear "bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" only for another brother to go "beel. i can't concentrate on my book. please refrain from buzzing inside the house"??? hello??? i think he's got a passion for cleaning too (thousands of years of food and blood stains, crumbs and mould have taught him a couple things) so he is always ready to assist in cleaning his brother's rooms and won't stop until they look brand new. his most demon brain moment is when he lifts things. doesn't matter what or how heavy it is, if he sees something new around him he has to give it a little lift. same thing with the people he's fond of. you have been grabbed by the armpits one too many times to have an impromptu simba moment for three seconds, only for beel to just go on with his day, no explanation. what a demon *sighs dreamily*.

belphegor is the most like his familiars (or at least his habits are most prominent). you see the demon chewing and chewing and chewing like one bite of food and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare (pls tell me you know what im talking about). you see him in full demon form running headfirst into a wall with his horns (#satan_and_belphie_bonding_activity) and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare. kinda like his twin, he does random moo or hffphhhmp noises according to his mood without realising ("no belphegor, you can not destroy every wall in this house with your horns" "moOOO"). demon brain goes brrrr with some human world grass and some sunshine. like he absolutely loves being in that mediterranean countryside, twirling some grass between his fingers, eating it, living his life. best brother to go on a picnic with hands down.

fucking dorks *heart eyes*

[jymwahuwu]

wingweaver anon here again XD.

i come back with silly brainrots. what if the reader has those hormonal shifts during spring and summer time and starts nesting, gathering pillows and blankets and little trinkets and comfort items close by. and she WANTS to let jing yuan in...perhaps she's grown used to the intimacy they share, perhaps not.

...but...she can't help but feel...unimpressed with him.

yes he's very impressive and yes he's sweet but...he's not really DONE much to woo her now has he? instinct dictates she push him away and find a more suitable mate, one with a better song, who will present better food and shiny items to you.

aka reader is going through her mating season and is very deprived and needy and fully expects jing yuan to show the proper etiquette before even DARING to set foot into her nest he gets scratched otherwise.

jing yuan : no let me in?

reader : you're cute, but you have no shiny. you don't sing. you haven't offered to preen me, or get me berries. what kind of man are you?

jing yuan : :000000 wait wot-

in the end, he does impress reader enough to be let in, and the first thing he does is grab her by the leg, pull her close and give her the fucking of a lifetime. surely the idea of starting a family wouldn't be too far off? look, she's even prepared a nest tp hold them, and he'll be a good father, providing for his little bird and their young ones.

( i'm sorry, you really don't have to write this out. i just think it would be hilarious just...watching jing yuan flounder because his darling???? is being fussy???? she wants him to sing for her?????? she wants berries and shinies????????? and then he just...sits down and gets cracking on general bird mating behaviors while reader is sitting in the corner like "well??? are you going to make a move or should i find someone else????" )

-CW: yandere, dub-con, breeding

part 1

This brainrot is too adorable!! Jing Yuan’s most precious little bird is going through her estrus… Although you didn’t ask for it, I wrote a little bit🫢🤗💖

Even General Xianzhou couldn't expect this, you just have wings after all. He didn't expect you to be in heat like a bird. It’s really interesting to see this hundreds of years old man overwhelmed 🤭

Jing Yuan immediately searched for the keywords "birds + estrus + wingweaver" in the database, and those holographic data blocks immediately swam around him. His eyes were darting around and reading the information he needed, and you were already… squirming on the nest? It was actually a bed with cozy blankets on it. You pouted and puffed out your cheeks, glaring at him angrily. The instinct in your head is calling you to find a better mate, one who will pursue you appropriately. Maybe your confused mind thinks he is a savage bird kidnapping you back to his nest…

Bird courtship behavior:

Singing

Display beautiful feathers

Bring delicious food and shiny stones as gifts

Decorate the love nest together

Dancing

Demonstrate hunting ability

…

There won't be enough time to order berries or collect trinkets for you. You're already questioning him. So… Jing Yuan took off his armor and robe… showing off his burly and well-trained chest and shoulders. He smiled leisurely at you. Your distracted eyes focused, and you felt heat radiating from your neck, your legs began to lose strength, and your wings trembled and fluttered. "you- you……"

"Shhh, come to me. Here's your preen." Jing Yuan opened his arms and simulated the sound of people teasing their pet birds.

You snuggled into his comforting arms. The sensitive wings are carefully groomed. You were about to assume a position that would allow for mating, but the general had already caught you and started breeding. You rocked on top of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and moaning softly. After a round of breeding, your legs were once again pinned as high as they could by his hands. His fat cock is thrusting upwards, thrusting inside your throbbing needy cunt.

It was finally burned into your head - no one could pursue you like he could, no one could mate with you like he could. Jing Yuan is the only spouse you need💖

divider @/cafekitsune

[jadeazora]

From the games: Ghetsis having N's Dragon in USUM. This man's Hydreigon could solo N's whole team, packing moves that were super-effective for each member. At best, N's life is constantly under threat by the Triad to keep the Dragon in line, but we all know Ghetsis isn't above murder. It's definitely possible he could have killed N and took the dragon as a trophy.

In the side series: aside from the implied people-boiling in Masters, almost getting executed by Dusknoir's pack of Sableye in PMD Explorers, all while your partner, who had looked up to Dusknoir and put a lot of faith in him, is pleading for Dusknoir to explain himself. You would have been literally shredded to death by Sableye's Fury Swipes. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

In the anime: Coco's parents getting run off the road by Zed and him leaving them to die in a fiery explosion, with getting away with it for almost a decade. He also thought he killed an infant. Honestly, the AU movies had been pretty heavy already between that one kid whose Luxray froze to death protecting him and the old woman whose Snubbull burned alive, but that just takes the cake.

Also, how Lysandre manipulated Alain into working towards "peace", only to reveal his vision of peace meant many people would die, and thanking Alain for helping him pull it off. Imagine being 15-16, and told you're culpable for genocide, despite being completely in the dark on what was actually intended. (Plus, it's clear that Alain had a lot of trust in Lysandre prior to all this.) No wonder the kid has a major breakdown after.

In the manga, several moments. There's Lysandre and Malva falling onto sharp rocks, ending up in a bloody pile, and for a while, I had assumed he had died from that until the full chapter release (a few years later) revealed he just took extensive damage to his spine. The entire XY chapter, honestly tho. Like, the way they play Flare for every ounce of paranoia the games missed out on. The kids never feel safe, and can't really trust anybody outside their little group. And even that gets tested later due to Essentia's holographic disguises.

Then there's Matt siccing his Sharpedo on Sapphire and Flannery, who are already drowning, apparently having gotten bored waiting on them to asphyxiate and deciding to make it a bloodbath instead. And Maxie burning Norman's corpse in front of Ruby, Norman's son. The RS arc is just about as bad as the XY arc in terms of trauma.

[tainted-liquor]

'Miss Me?⋆｡°✩

E42!Prowler Morales x ProwlerFan!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of salt Tws: Cussing, brief abandonment, n thas it W/C: 2.4k A/N: GWENPOOL CODED READER RAAAAAAAAGHHHH

Something was wrong.

really wrong.

for the past 2 years, you’ve been following in the footsteps of New York's infamous “prowler”. He served as a symbol of fear and terror in the eyes of the public, murdering dozens and destroying whatever he could get his hands on. But to those who paid any actual attention, it was clear that there was a specific pattern to his actions that never really harmed the innocent. He took down massive corporations and spilled the blood of corrupt figures who profited off of New York's state of constant chaos and poverty. You loved to watch him run just above your reach, dodging and weaving between buildings as he chased after something like prey.

So what did you do? You decided to grow your own identity when you were 15, making your robotic pink and white suit within the cold walls of your school's long abandoned attic. You began imitating the Prowler, managing to make quite a bit of noise in terms of your presence as a ‘new villain’ within Brooklyn. Your ultimate goal was to make as much noise and garner as much attention as your beloved ‘hero’ to grab his attention. So when you were fighting off a group of businessmen in the back alley of a dark building, you stopped everything when you saw the familiar suit drop down from above and join your fight.

He said nothing, fighting in absolute silence as he helped you destabilize the last of the people you were currently combating. He gave them a rather lethal-sounding kick to the head, making sure they were all out before looking up at you and turning his head to the side. You struggled to keep your composure as the white slits on his mask narrowed and he walked closer to you, circling you slowly as he examined your shiny suit. “Oh my gosh-! Hi! This is crazy I literally love you!” You exclaimed, your voice sounding like a staticky and distorted radio. He finally looked back at your face after analyzing your suit.

“Are those my claws?” He asked, grabbing your wrist and examining the refined metal claws on your hands that were definitely inspired by him. “Yes! My gear is totally inspired by you!” You cheered, eagerly rocking your arms back and forth to refrain from trying to hug him. He hummed briefly before walking away to wherever it was he was going, disappearing without a trace. You didn’t wanna be annoying, so you waved bye watching as he seemingly jumped up a building and quickly disappeared into the shadows. You thought that would be the last interaction you’d have with him as you sped home with a smile on your face, praying to whatever god was listening that you’d be able to talk to him next time.

And DAMN, were them gods listening.

You began to see him pop up slightly more on your missions, watching as he silently helped you with your tasks, gave your suit a good look, and then left again. This became a routine for about 3 months, watching him come and go like a thief in the night. You always said your brief hello, hey, or hi to always get an upward nod or a small thumbs up. But that never stopped you from fangirling when you got home or complimenting his skills or suit. You were currently brutalizing and abusing some CEO of a big corp, kicking and kneeing him in the stomach for info regarding the exploitation of his employees when you felt a familiar presence behind you.

“Hey! Here to help me again?” You asked, throwing a sharp punch to the man’s skull before dropping him on the floor. You turn around to face the Prowler immediately, tiny hearts popping up on your holographic mask that indicate your joy as he only shakes his head. “I need you on a mission with me” he mutters, attaching a small disk-looking circle to the side of your helmet. “Wait wait really! YES! LETS FUCKING GO! Okay okay, wait.” You exclaimed, turning back to face the man you left on the floor and tying him up with a spare electrical cord you found. “Okay let’s go! I’m so excited!” You exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around the taller boy's torso automatically.

Of course, Miles wasn’t really big on physical touch. But he let you hang around for about 3 seconds before prying you off with a tiny smile. “Aight that’s enough, c’mon. Your suit got boosters?” He asked as he prepared to dart forward out of a window. “Yours has boosters? Is that how jump so high?” You asked, earning a small sigh of irritation from Miles. He backed out of the window, swung you over his shoulder, and held on to your back tightly to make sure you wouldn't slip and splat on the concrete below. You let out a small yelp of fear as he darted out the window at seemingly impossible speeds, wind whistling in your ears as Miles's voice rang clearly through your helmet.

"The disk I put on your mask will let you hear me when I'm gone. Vice versa. I need you to knock out anyone in the control room n turn off the cameras while I reach the person we're looking for. I'll come get you when I'm done. DON'T leave the room" he instructed as you tried your best not to audibly swoon over his unfiltered voice. His tone was smooth and silky like honey, his accent sticking to his words like glue as he firmly told you exactly what to do when you arrived at your destination. Your stomach pooled with butterflies as you responded with a small "got it. By the way, your voice is really cute." There was a small huff and a low chuckle before Miles gently patted your back with his cold claw, muttering a small "thank you" that went straight through your eardrums and right to your rapidly increasing heartbeat.

And ever since that mission, you grew closer and closer. He cleaned up after all your crimes, picking up and destroying any clues you'd left behind, and keeping some as keepsakes. He'd never tell you that though, finding himself fidgeting with your purple heart-shaped sunglasses he found cleaning up another one of your messy missions. Nine months later and there you were sitting on top of a skyscraper, knees swinging back and forth childishly as you admired the lights that looked like fireflies from up so high. "Hola, Mamita. You shouldn't sit on the ledge like that. Don't know what I'd do if my favorite sidekick fell to her death" He taunted as he sat next to you, gently pulling you closer to him. "Harr-de-harr. I'm not your sidekick. You can be my crime husband though!" you exclaimed, turning your head to look at Miles as you bonked your mask with his.

He giggled at your statement, sounding genuinely joyful and flattered for a change before turning to face you again. "Yeah, aight. Fuck a crime wife, you just my wife," he stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and swinging your knee over his. You were thankful that he couldn't see your face, otherwise, he would've seen how your jaw dropped as you leaned your head against his shoulder. He took off one of the heavy-duty purple straps attached to his suit, gently clipping it onto your pretty pink tactile belt. He scooped you up without so much as a word, safely hauling the both of you down from the top of the skyscraper and placing you safely on your feet. "Aight, I gotta go Mamas. Keep that f'me, yeah?" He called as he quickly disappeared into the shadows again.

But that was the last time you saw him.

You carried on with your missions like usual, going 5 in a row without seeing your 'husband' or him saying some random shit in your ear. There was no "keep safe. Cops are on you" or him scolding you for being 'irresponsible' regarding your share of crime. You began to get worried, risking your life by going out fully suited when you had no reason to be, running and jumping around Brooklyn in search of your Prowler while his name slowly faded from the news. You even began to think that he got himself killed fucking around with the wrong target one day. You were scared, and you missed your 'man'.

For two whole years, you went to school every morning wondering when you'd see your beloved Prowler again. The anonymous boy you'd once fangirl over like some sick and twisted Justin Beiber suddenly faded from the face of the earth. You spoke in your mask now and again, attempting to get some type of response as you grieved the sudden disappearance of your first love. You continued as a nameless vigilante, earning a massive amount of fame and even 'replacing' the Prowler as his name withered from headlines. You quickly grew stronger, learning to clean up your mess, and became more violent when it came to dealing with criminals and small-time offenders.

The days melted together as you lost track of time, drowning yourself in your academic career and constant suit updates to take your mind off the pain in your heart. You practically sped down the highway with your newly installed 'Wheels' to your wide, chunky, metal boots. Your Purple strap flailed in the air as you darted off after an all-black tinted car, containing what was supposed to be your final victim with your identity as the infamous 'Pink Prowler'. You blasted forward with your boosters, digging a claw into the back of the black trunk and clawing your way up the car, breaking the glass windshield and pulling out a rather young-looking white guy. The car crashed abruptly, allowing you to leap to the side and get a look at the guy you were about to ask a couple of questions before you robbed him of his life.

There was a sudden static noise filling your helmet, groaning in irritation as you put your foot on the man's chest and fidgeted with the side of your mask. There was a loud thud, and the car burst into flames as a figure stood behind you…but you weren't really afraid as you slowly turned around to face the new stranger. And there he was, only taller and with longer braids as those familiar white eyes stared down at you. You quickly stomped down on the man's chest, hearing a sickening crunch and a blood-curdling scream as you turned to face your 'husband'. Everything rushed back to you like runoff as you took in his form, obsessing over every new muscle and scar as he slowly relaxed as soon as he saw you and your…new suit.

Despite the overwhelming joy and love you felt for the boy in front of you, rage built in your body as you attempted to throw punches at him, with Miles grabbing your metal-clad hands like it was nothing. "Where have you BEEN? I fucking missed you, I thought you died or some shit!" You shouted, attempting to wiggle your wrists out of his hold as he gave you a slight 'sympathetic' nod. He clicked his tongue at you disapprovingly, inching closer towards you as he pulled you into a tight hug. Part of you swore you could feel the regret pooling from his aura, but that was quickly disregarded when you heard him sigh deeply as he rested his chin on your head. "Lo siento, mi muñequita…I never meant to leave you," he muttered, patting the small of your back, allowing you to berate him as much as you wanted for abandoning you.

"I know, I know. Pero ahora esto aqui. Te extrañé, Mamita" He cooed as he gently rocked you back and forth, paying no attention to the man struggling to breathe in the grass. "That's definitely not something I taught you," He murmured, turning his head towards the stranger coughing and wheezing due to his broken ribs. "I saw you on the news every day, Muñequita. 'M sorry for disappearing on you, they was on my ass with a watch party for a couple of years. Wanna know why? Cuz I cleaned up one of YOUR messes" he sniggered, picking you up and resting you over his shoulder as he threw the man in a nearby river. You relaxed in his hold, quickly gasping when you realized that he had murdered your only source of intel. "I was supposed to question that motherfucker, puto!"

"You finally learn Spanish and it's to cuss me out? I thought you loved me…" He joked, giving you a firm squeeze to the small sliver of flesh visible on your suit, located right on your left thigh. You huffed, much to his amusement as he began walking back in the direction of the city. "I'm still mad that you left me like that. How do you abandon your work wife?" You asked, rolling your eyes underneath your mask as you struggled to keep up the 'annoyed' act. You knew you couldn't stay mad at him, and you had a feeling he knew it too. "For the last time, you're not my work-wife. You're just my wife" he stated.

You giggled quietly as you began kicking your feet back and forth slightly. "You don't even mean that for real" you muttered as you mindlessly played with his braids. Miles chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as he adjusted his arm over your back. "Oye, detente antes de que te haga. Solo di que me extrañaste" He sniggered. "In English, please?" You whined as you attempted to grab Miles's hand.

"Missed me?" He asked as he flipped you around so you could see in front of you. "Maybe…" You whispered. Miles gave a low hum, nodding his head when he got the answer he was looking for. There were about five minutes of comfortable silence as you heard his footsteps against the coarse gravel, finally feeling at peace now that you had your husband back from wherever he was. You giggled to yourself, earning a small "Hmm?" from Miles as you thought of a potentially dumb question.

"You should propose to me"

"You want me to propose to you? Aight, I gotchu mamas. Ima get you a real pretty purple ring, okay? But you gon have to fix that suit, I can't tell I inspired it no more. Need these niggas to know you my wife and sidekick"

"boy bye."

[emanation-aura]

Nahida currently has (one) secret agent. Wanderer, the unknown entity, who has the insanely cool ability of being able to fly and speed around, making him an intimidating aerial combatant. Apart from his combat capabilities, Wanderer is also a totally unknown entity thanks to his trauma-induced spree into erasing himself from the Irminsul and thus can go anywhere on the pretense of being someone else.

But. There are two types of secret missions Nahida wants done. One is the "please fight the Abyss Order and make their Heralds give up information" type of "die die DIE" mission. These are the type of missions Wanderer excels at.

The other is the "wine-dine-steal-something-of-mine" types. As the Wanderer, he should theoretically be excellent at this, but factoring in temperament, it is nearly impossible to make Wanderer play nice enough to seduce/socialise/steal anything.

So... who else could Nahida hire to cover the diplomatic infiltration missions? Someone who is not actively hostile to humanity (which is a very low bar, admittedly), who can travel freely in their spare time because they don't have anything better to do, who has high enough Clearance™️ to access all the diplomatic and social places Archons would want to know about...

The first answer is the Traveler. The second answer is Alhaitham.

"Ok, look, this is utter insanity," the Wanderer says, pointing at the (no longer?) Acting Grand Sage like he's an attraction at the zoo. "I'm supposed to be sharing a job with this guy?"

"This guy has a name," Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. "It's Alhaitham, although call him by his preferred codename on missions."

"Vulture," Alhaitham drawls unenthusiastically. Lesser Lord Kusanali grins; he may sound unenthusiastic, but his Dendro Vision thrums in her presence and aligns with her aspects: knowledge, sagacity, puzzles, analysis, praxis. (Ok, maybe it also has to do with the pay rise she's giving him.) "Who is this...?"

"Just call me the Wanderer," the Wanderer says, the same time the Lesser Lord cheerfully chirps "Hat Guy."

"Wanderer is no good," Alhaitham points out quite reasonably, "it's a job, not a title. Same with Hat Guy. How am I supposed to tell you apart from everyone else who wears hats? Pick something else."

"Justify the existence of the Traveler," the Wanderer sneers.

Lesser Lord Kusanali silently points to a corner of the office with two chairs labelled "time-out corner". Both men fall silent.

"Both of you begin tomorrow," she speaks quickly, confident both can keep up. "I will keep a running list of things I need done, hm... here." She points at the holographic display on the wall, which currently lists "purchase the mythical 'Sea Ganoderma' from Inazuma" and "arrange meetings with other Archons to discuss jurisdictional issues". (Alhaitham thinks she is trying to sound too much like an administrative, executive leader— when she is a god, who has people to do this for her— ah, fuck, this person being him, of course.)

"Hat Guy, all combat missions are yours, and if we need to use... ahem, your special identity, then I will mark it down. Alhaitham, all diplomatic missions are yours, except when marked otherwise." Lesser Lord Kusanali puts her hands to her hips and smiles. "Any questions?"

"Hat Guy..." Alhaitham says, and oh shit, she is the Lord of Wisdom and can Hear His Brain Whirring, "the hat is distinguishable, at least. That's an Inazuma kasa hat worn by vagrants, and you have a strange accent. お前は本当に態度が悪いな, Ублюдок."*

She materialises a bar of soap in Wanderer's mouth before he can respond, but his rage is palpable, and it is clear he understood what Alhaitham said. Frankly, she is too interested to intervene, wanting to see what Alhaitham deduces about Wanderer's identity.

"Likely Inazuman by origin, given his hat and accent inflection, while also understanding Snezhnayan. Very rare combination, isn't it?" Alhaitham doesn't smile, exactly, at the squirming Wanderer, but he is gloating in his own way. "The Fatui Harbingers are missing an Inazuman for their roster, actually, and we know they like recruiting a couple from each region (under his breath, confirmed placements are Fair Lady to Mondstadt, Regrator to Liyue, Doctor to Sumeru, the Marionette to Fontaine, the Captain to Natlan, with the rest unknown or native to Snezhnaya). And it is said that they've been missing a Sixth for a couple centuries, have they not?"

"So, in conclusion, this... Hat Guy is the former Sixth Harbinger that either was fired, escaped, or rebelled. You've defected to the side of the Archons by joining Lesser Lord Kusanali."

It is indeed Haravatat that sniffs him out, Nahida thinks with amazement. She removes the bar of soap from Wanderer's mouth, which causes him to unleash a litany of curses in all four languages he knows (Common, Sumerian, Inazuman, Snezhnayan, with some Seirai Dialect thrown in for fun). Perhaps out of respect for her, though, he does not attempt to immediately throttle Alhaitham. Nahida takes it as a win.

"Well, this has been a productive first meeting for you two! I look forward to working with you guys in the future."

Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. And the rest, while not history, will eventually sort itself out.

*Japanese: roughly "You have an attitude problem", and Russian: "you little bitch". I do not speak these languages, so native speakers feel free to interject.

[Fatui Harbinger nation-of-origin ideas are not to be taken as canon]

[ceilingfan5]

"Yeah I’m fully understanding the murder part, just not why you’re the one who needs to solve it??"

“So you’re not like, a cop? You gotta tell me, you know, legally you gotta tell me, if you’re a fuckin’ cop, my man.” Taako folds his arms, his shirt with the piñata fringe making this look a lot less serious than he intended. 

“I swear to you, I am not a cop,” Detective Kravitz says. “See, it says so, on my business card.” He hands Taako a business card with shiny red lettering on matte black, KRAVITZ. Private Detective for Hire. Not a cop. 

Taako flips it over. On the back is a glossy magnifying glass, highlighting his phone number. Taako snickers and pockets it. He tugs his holographic cargo skirt back up and squints at Kravitz. Kravitz poses awkwardly, trying to look serious, but not too serious, but not too unprofessional. Dork. Taako wants to eat him.

“Yeah, okay. You’re too stylish to be a cop.”

Kravitz beams, which makes Taako feel really warm suddenly. He shouldn’t be blushing. He kind of forgot he still could. 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you had any-”

“Hot clues, Scooby-doo?” Taako teases. He hops up to sit on the counter and surveys his thrift store kingdom. He crosses his legs, and watches Kravitz catch an enticing flash as he kicks his legs up. That’s right, dork, look. Look allll you want. 

“Ah, I was going to say insight, any insight into the murders committed outside your loading dock last night?”

“Aw shit, there were murders? I’m gonna barf.” Taako tries really hard to look distressed. This is sort of difficult, because he was the one who sort of exsanguinated those assholes. And they didn’t even taste that good. 

“I,” Kravitz blinks, taking out a notebook, and pulling a sleek black pen from behind his ear. God, this idiot is cute. It isn’t fair. “I was under the impression you were the one who called it in?”

“Um, nah,” Was he? Fuck. No, no, uh, he made someone else do it. Who was working this morning. “I think Magnus found ‘em, he was pretty shocked.” 

“Oh, sorry, I thought-” Kravitz scrawls something on his dumb little notebook. “Remind me your name, then, if you don’t mind?”

“Taako,” Taako says, instantly regretting not choosing an alias. He is sort of wearing a nametag, though. Not that he has to cooperate with this investigation. “Do we really have to talk about this? I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Taako, but I’m trying to solve this murder.” 

"Yeah I’m fully understanding the murder part, just not why you’re the one who needs to solve it?" 

“Well,” Kravitz puts down his notebook, pausing. He chews something over in his head. “I don’t want to say anything untoward about the police, but,” and then he looks at Taako pointedly, and Taako snorts. 

“Yeah, I mean, you’re right, but weren’t they like. Trying to break into the place? They-” Whoops, don’t incriminate your own dumb vampire ass! “Magnus said they had guns?” 

“Good to know,” Kravitz says, pointedly writing something else down. Taako sweats. He smells really good. Like, really good. Why the fuck does he have to be playing Inspector Gadget? Can’t he come keep Taako warm at night instead? 

“Anyway, I gotta put out some more inventory. Treasure Adventure isn’t gonna thrift itself.” And he hops off the counter. Kravitz looks at him, mouth a funny line. 

“Taako, are board games with missing pieces and bead purses from 2005 more important than lives, snuffed out, by some kind of murderer?” 

“Lot of other kinds of people snuffing out lives these days?” Taako snaps. “You wanna say monsters or dickheads next?” 

“Taako, is there anything you want to elaborate on?”

“No, I don’t think there is,” Taako says firmly. “Maybe I’m just feeling unsafe in my workplace, asshole, you ever think of that? It’s terrifying to- be- here! I gotta keep selling garbage? For minimum wage? Where something like that happened! What if those guys were coming to stick the place up and I was the one that got murdered, would you be as persistent about that case, Columbo?” 

“Yes,” Kravitz says, eyes wide. His heart is pounding more about the awkward situation than it was about the dead bodies. He has a little arrhythmia. It’s kind of cute. “Of course I would.”

Taako throws his hands in the air and exclaims wordlessly, and marches off, which is the only way he saw out of the conversation. Kravitz, to his credit, stands there looking sweaty, and then goes to bother another employee instead. 

Taako hides in the breakroom and pretends he doesn’t feel weird about it. He pretends he doesn’t care about it at all. 

Funny, how things might have been different if someone had cared to look into what happened when he died. 

But he doesn’t want to think about that. He wants to think about seducing that trenchcoat-wearing loser away from the lawful side. Yeah, that’s it. For sure.