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mooncleaver · 2 months

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Tender Mornings

you know it's a good day when the first sight you're greeted with is azriel sprawled out so beautifully on your bed.

ღ pairing: azriel x fem!reader

ღ warnings: very loosely cannonical pls don't ask i live in my dreams, fluff after fluff in your face, they’re MATED AND MARRIED!! 🥰 touchy azriel

"Good morning, handsome."

Your voice murmurs into Azriel's ears early in the morning, waking him out of his peaceful slumber. It's a quiet day, and definitely not the kind of quiet you'd be alerted by, hackles raised and ears perked for signs of danger. No, this was peace. The birds are chirping and the distant sounds of city bustle has just begun its routine, and you can't help but stare at your mate, the absence of fine lines on his forehead creating one of the most endearing pictures in your mind.

Honestly, you don't know how you've managed to slip out of his iron grip a few hours ago. Even his shadows had been relatively calm. But you pieced it to him finally getting his well-deserved sleep after a grueling week of running around as spymaster for Night Court. He'd almost collapsed right on top of you on the couch the moment he got home at the dead of night, practically purring under you into a dreamless sleep while you ran your hands through his hair. You love it when he's just Azriel with you. Not the deadly shadowsinger with eyes that could kill, but the one snoring himself away in your shared bed, wings splayed out without a care in this world.

As he opens his eyes blearily, he can make out your soft fingers on his face, warm and comforting as your thumb strokes his cheek, squatting down on the floor beside his edge of the bed. It's an awfully good morning whenever you're there to wake him up, which isn't often considering how light of a sleeper Azriel is. It's one of the rare times that he had a fully undisturbed 8 hours of sleep, with no nightmares plaguing his visions.

He smiles, seeing your face first thing. Gods, he would die over and over again if this was the sight he woke up to each time.

Noticing his expression, your grin widens as you lift your other hand from laying on the sheets, cradling his face and brushing your nose against his, closing your eyes as you breathe in your mate, all the while feeling the bond pulsate like a well-known bliss inside your chest. The golden band on your left ring finger glints wonderfully in the morning sun, the rays illuminating it as if it were a halo wrapped around your skin. The ring is a dainty but simple thing, its surface raised with signature Night Court swirls and stars, the pattern a twin to the bargain marks painting your sternum—the one that you made with Azriel the day of your ceremony with promises to love and protect, even beyond death.

It was an unusual thing to have around in Pythian, considering it was a human tradition.

You and Azriel picked up the custom after learning it from a mission the two of you went to a long time ago in the human lands. Of course, it wasn't like either of you needed conventional items to show your relationship, knowing the Mother had already blessed you with one of magic, something so deeply sacred that transcended both words and worlds. Still, you thought that the piece of gold represented a beautiful message. It told the story of your battles and triumphs, the countless suffering and victories that got you to where you were, being able to hold the hand of your fated mate, rings clinking and echoing the bells that rung in your mating ceremony. No distance could ever separate you. And most of all, it reminded you every waking day of the way Azriel accepted you as his, as someone who loved him through thick and thin, someone who he would kill and die for.

You were always a victim of sentiment, and neither you nor Azriel could deny the pride the two of you felt seeing each other's rings—the way it felt like a claim over each other, physical proof of your love beyond words.

When Feyre met the Inner Circle for the first time, she became an addition to the people who appreciated the symbol. You were confused at first, wondering why the Cursebreaker was staring at you so deeply. Then you saw the way her eyes never wavered from your hand, the one that was brushing against Azriel's scarred ones as he softly reciprocated up and down against your fingers. It had honestly been centuries since the two of you mated that you sometimes forget you were wearing a ring, the weight of it so familiar that it became a part of your body.

She'd told you one day how in awe and warm she felt seeing the two of you wearing your rings. It indeed was a rare sight, and in her heart she understood what it meant. Even if she hadn't been familiar with mating bonds, Feyre knew what wedding yourself to someone entailed, and for the one of the first times in a while she had smiled so brightly, sharing a nod that only the three of you seemed to understand.

Funnily enough, Rhys told you that even before she noticed the rings and the affection, Feyre had read Azriel up and down as being utterly in love with you. The Azriel whisperer. Guess it wasn't hard to notice the pure adoration pouring out of his eyes at the mere thought of you.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in for a bit before I go, I know it's been a rough week for you baby."

"I love you." That was the first thing he uttered, overwhelmed with the feeling. He could hear, feel and see your thoughts—ones of your ceremony. You never did block him off from your side of the bond, and it had really only been silent if he was out on a critical mission. Azriel loved it. Every side of you. Whenever you got frustrated, sad or jumping with joy, he celebrated in the knowledge that you were his and his only. That you were healthy and alive through all your emotions.

Now he basked into the memory of your mating ceremony centuries ago, his own heart following yours as it took him through every single thought and emotion that was felt proudly through your perspective. Cauldron, he felt so loved. Awakened and reborn every time he remembered that day.

I love you too, you uttered through the bond, giggling as he brought you up off the floor, setting you on top of him like you were a piece of paper. His hand on your waist comforted you like no other, the warmth so familiar. The shadows slithered all around you in an almost child-like nature, prodding at your cheeks and shoulders. They were always so delightful around you, pretty much accepting you as their own mistress ever since you and Az mated. You stayed there for a while, laying one side of your head on his chest while you closed your eyes and followed his heartbeat, enjoying the melody it followed.

The burst of shared happiness in you grew until a smile lit up on your face and you looked up from your position to him, climbing up his body and cradling his head in your arms, squeezing gently as you squealed when he began tickling the sides of your waist. You felt Azriel nosing the skin of your neck, breathing in your scent that had been so beautifully intertwined with his over the years.

You loved moments like this, when the two of you didn't have to speak out loud, all the feelings simply existing.

After a calming while, you begrudgingly had to get up from your comfort, remembering why you were up early in the first place. Though, you had only made one inch of movement before you felt Az's arms locking themselves behind your back, face attaching back to his rightly earned place on the supple skin of your chest. And in times like these, you truly thanked the mother for blessing you with a mate who rivaled you in clinginess. It was dangerous when Azriel got like this. Difficult was an understatement to how it felt trying to get out of his arms, knowing his Illyrian training and position in Rhysand's court fully translated to his strength and state of his (godly) physique. Even your family had commented on how soft Azriel was when it came to you, now used to the image of the male having his arms and wings—or any part of his body really—against yours at all times.

You gently tapped the top of his ruffled hair, resting your right cheek on it as you urged him to let you go, kissing his head in between. Azriel only mumbled in response—the sound too unintelligible for it to be distinct—and closed his eyes again, ready to enter the realm of dreams.

You laughed breathily, craning your neck up and softly pulling his head back while you dragged your hand down the back of his head, holding a loose grip on his hair. "If you let me go right now I'll be back in your arms sooner than you can blink, Az." He smiled, blinking slowly in thought.

"How ‘bout that, huh? You, me, and fresh bed sheets tonight?" You mumbled, bringing your face close to his until your lips just barely brushed each other.

Now that got him up and alert.

Not even a second later you had taken the chance to jump out of the bed, letting your fingers drag onto the skin of his arms and turning around to get dressed. Azriel shook his head, his breathy chuckle being the only indication of his acceptance of defeat. And acceptance of your offer, of course.

Leisurely, (as if you didn't have a certain purple-eyed highlord waiting for your arrival) you shrugged your night slip off, leaving you bare all the way except for your sapphire colored lacy underwear, the one your mate loved so much. "Rhys asked me to help him sort out his fucking mounds of paperwork again."

"—honestly Az, he's been dragging me into his office ever since I did it that one time he kept dropping down cold out of exhaustion." You sighed out exasperatedly, crossing your arms as you dug through your giant closet to find an appropriate outfit.

"You know he's just trying to find a way to spend time with you right?" Azriel answered, clearly distracted by your undressing. So easy. It was so easy to hook this man right around your fingers. You could clearly feel his piercing gaze travel up and down your body, tracing all your curves, not leaving a single inch yearning for his attention. You loved it, relished it. It made you feel so beautiful and desired, and your prideful Illyrian never failed to mention it out loud.

"Yeah yeah..." You shook your head affectionately. You weren't actually annoyed at Rhysand and honestly thought this was really sweet. With his mind running around the whole bargain with the Cursebreaker and the dizzying problem of recovering Prythian after what happened for the last 50 years, you knew your long-time friend needed a break, and you'd help him in whatever form, even if it meant going through all of his tedious High Lord work. Plus, you wouldn't miss a single chance to goad him on about the shoe-throwing incident.

You most probably would get wine-tipsy by the end of it. He did have one hell of a drink collection.

Once you found the pieces you were looking for, you grabbed each one in a hanger, walking back over to face Azriel as you held both of them up, asking his opinion for which one to wear.

He had his arms crossed in front of him and scrunched his eyebrows for one second, raising his eyebrows as he silently nodded his head towards the one on your right. Hm. This was his favorite because it displayed your... assets very well. Typical mate. Winking as a thanks, you put the unused set back, putting on your outfit for the day, all the while he watched with twinkling eyes.

"I mean, couldn't he ask me to go training or something?" Still, you continued your tangent, feeling playful in this happy morning.

"Rhys knows not to train with you because you're lazy." His words hadn't registered in your mind yet because Gods did you love this version of your mate so much. The crumpled bed sheets did absolutely no help covering him up, falling right below his hip while his muscles flexed. His chestnut hair spiked in all kinds of directions, remnants of your own hands playing with the soft strands. The constant darkness that surrounded him only drew your attention to his half-lidded eyes, so sultry without a try. The smug bastard was leaning his head back, both his hands behind them and he knew how much you loved it when he did that—bulging biceps and all. You could just claw at him right now. You were so thankful for his Illyrian DNA.. it was like they were born with divine statures.

"What. Did you just say to me, Azriel?" You gasped in mock offense, a hand on your chest and all.

He had the audacity to show you his sorry smile, as if it would get him out of every sticky situation (It did. Every time. You were just too prideful to say it) "No, no, don't you smile at me like that."

You held your finger up, trying your best to ignore him. You scoffed. Lazy. Okay well in your defense, Rhysand just fucking loved to rile you up whenever the two of you were in the ring. It almost always made you annoyed to the point that you couldn't look at his face without feeling the urge to punch it. It wasn't like you couldn't take a friendly banter, but he did it for way too long and way too often. That's why you preferred to fight with Azriel or Cassian for that matter.

Seeing you hold your stance, he got up in all his glory, boxers being the only unfortunate thing covering him up. It was purely instinct to look him up and down, savoring the image while you bit your lip. Pride. That’s all he felt whenever you did that.

Azriel walked towards you with open arms, enveloping you in his large frame when he got close enough, one hand going right down its snug place on your ass while the other went behind your head.

He whispered in your ear lovingly, satiating your unserious upset. "I'm very sorry, my beautiful, intelligent, kind and sexy mate."

You could only melt right into his embrace, bringing your arms to coil around his neck as you smiled against it, pressing your lips onto his skin a couple times. His throaty voice right to your ears made you shiver in delight, goosebumps rising in its wake. You really couldn't get enough of this man, his voice, his smile, his scent and his everything. Feeling your love, Azriel responded by holding you tighter against his body, feeling every inch pressing against him.

"So sexy." He murmured, squeezing your ass.

A laugh bubbled deep from your chest and you leant back from your cozy spot, resting your palm against his chest as you smiled up at him, sighing and nodding in delight. "Knew we were mates for a reason."

He joined you a moment later, his laugh vibrating deep within his chest. This on its own could make any fae in Prythian drop down to their knees. Azriel didn't hesitate to kiss you, feeling a type of content that could only be fulfilled by your lips.

You giggled as you felt his lips trek your jaw, down to your collarbone and trailing your shoulders, all the while letting his enormous wings cocoon the two of you. You were pleased to stay inside the little world you two built, letting the joy simmer between you and your mate until he released the hold he had on you with his wings. Without a single word being spoken, you let him trail you as you made your way towards the generous vanity on the corner of the bedroom, picking out the everyday items that were displayed. And of course, you had to use the perfume that Az got for your 100th anniversary, the bottle no longer the original as you had gone through so much with constant use.

The male loved whenever you’d wear it,—which was almost everyday—the smell mixed with your own natural one driving him mad, further and further falling for you. And that was exactly his reaction after you gave your wrist a small spritz. Azriel melted deeper into you, if that was even possible with the lack of space between your bodies.

“Think I’m gonna fly out to the city later. Cass is back from Windhaven.” He murmured into the nape of your neck once you were done, fully wrapping his arms around you and not missing the chance to slip them under your top to cup your breasts at it. You hummed in response, laying your head back and tilting to the side to look at your mate and giving him sweet kisses.

“Mm, sounds fun. Tell him I said hi—Ooh, can you please bring back those chocolate chip cookies we had last week? They were soo good.” You closed your eyes in the memory, proceeding to pout at the Illyrian while reaching behind to lay one of your hands on the back of his neck.

Azriel hummed knowingly in response. Obviously he’d get them for you. You didn't even have to ask and he would’ve brought them back anyway. “Okay baby, anything you want.”

This man. Everything out of his mouth made you feel so madly in love.

While he swayed your bodies leisurely, you couldn’t help but grin up at him, teasing his behavior as you scratched his scalp to emphasize. “You’re so in love with me, Az.”

“‘Course I am, look at you. Beautiful. So beautiful.” He raised your left hand towards his face, emphasizing the word with a delicate kiss on your knuckles, lips lingering on the finger that adorned your ring.

He’d do anything and everything for you. Fly to the edge of Prythian and back, steal the moon, burn the world, collect the stars and hang them up again to paint the sky. If you asked he would do it.

What else could you do in response than to lean up and kiss him in return, letting him twist your body to face him while his hands pull at your waistband, caressing in calming motions. “My mate is so sweet.”

“I love you too.”

“Okay okay, I should go now. Rhys will start nagging me about being glued to you and our bed as he always does.” You reluctantly separated yourself from his embrace, rubbing your hands down his arms in consolation for the loss of warmth.

“Been over 400 years now, sweetheart. I don’t think he’s going to stop anytime soon.” And Azriel meant this in an entirely endearing way. What happened under the mountain with that insane bitch Amarantha had truly changed Rhysand. He returned home different, haunted. The first time you heard him playfully tease yours and Azriel’s inseparable nature you had both been stunned, finally seeing the old friend—no, brother—that you knew so well show through the cracks.

You shook your head in agreement, grinning as you took the chance to bump your noses together. “I’ll see you when I see you, hot stuff. Tell me everything tonight.”

“On our fresh bed sheets?” He smirked playfully, echoing your previous promise as a way to remind you.

“Mhm, exactly on our fresh bed sheets.” You laughed and winked at him, finally turning around and grabbing your trusty dagger by the drawer and sheathing it on your thigh. The weapon never went anywhere without you, even if you were only venturing to the Town House. It was something small to reign Azriel’s constant need of making sure you were safe and armed at all times.

Your mate followed you out the door of your room, beelining towards the kitchen, no doubt to make himself a nice cup of coffee.

As your passed him by the isle, you gave him one last goodbye kiss, throwing your head back in laughter at the (soft) slap on your ass on your way.

The minute you opened the door to his large office, Rhysand had paused, nose up and muttered with a teasing smile, “Gods, you reek of Illyrian.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rhys.”

AAAH! guys im insanely back from writing hiatus after like a year. This is fucking surreal and also im so sorry to my friends that i abandoned.. yall… ily and my messages are open

On another note, i am glad to start it all up again with an azriel piece. Despite loving his character since 2021, ive never written for him but i got inspired after reading a terribly sweet soldier boy fic lol.

I really hope that this story, in all aspects, is okay! I feel very rusty

masterlist

dividers credit @rookthornesartistry @chachachannah @dollywons

(also if you see this thank you GWEN for convincing me to post again)

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year

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🎃 A Warm Body

Oviposition CW: egg laying Monster!Reader based on an Anon❤️ from a while ago, yandere!human, reader with male and female reproductive organs

Growling in frustration, (Reader's) long claws carved into the concrete flooring of the room they were kept prisoner.

Their swollen body ached with how full they were, going mad with how desperate they were for release. As soon as they emerged from the Earth to reproduce, a human shot them with enough tranquilizers to put down a herd of elephants, which is why (Reader) now found themselves in what was essentially a concrete box, locked in by a large steel vault. (Reader) cried out in need, craving release.

The metal door spun obnoxiously, multiple mechanisms whirring as it unlocked and squealed open. The man who shot (Reader) quickly entered, shutting the door closed again behind him. There were so many things he wanted to say, an entire romantic monologue planned for the creature he had spent his entire life obsessing over, researching and hunting despite no one else believing in (Reader's) existence. But before he could open his mouth, (Reader) had him by the leg, dragging him down beneath them.

(Reader) ignored the man's happy squeaks, ripping his clothes off to find a suitable hole. His face glowed with heat, blushing as he pitifully attempted to cover up his body. But his small, human body was no match for (Reader's), effortlessly holding the man up by his hips, unfazed by his weak flailing. With his ass presented to (Reader) they couldn't help groaning, nearly bursting just from the thought of being able to mate.

They pushed the man onto their large depositor, screaming in pleasure at how snuggly he fit on them. (Reader) slid him against them, animalistic grunts bouncing off the concrete walls as they mercilessly fucked him.

His smile and incoherent babbling was cute, but (Reader) didn't really care. It didn't matter that it felt good for their abductor, that he was in complete and utter bliss. Nor did they appreciate his erect penis twitching with his building climax, about ready to cum without touching it. The only thing that mattered was coating the insides of his ass with their protective slime, forming a type of pocket to protect their eggs from his bodily functions.

Squelching sounds filled the air as he slapped into (Reader's) pelvis wetly, creating strings of fluids stretching between their bodies. (Reader) could feel that they had pumped enough nesting liquid into him, with how round he was already becoming.

The man erratically spasmed as the first egg entered his asshole, hitting his prostate on the way in. Cum hit the concrete with the next egg, off-white droplets landing pathetically by (Reader's) feet and dripping onto his own face from the doubled over position.

But (Reader) wasn't done. Eggs continued pumping into his body, brushing past the overstimulated man's sensitive spot, bringing him to tears as his post ejaculated body was overwhelmed, fucking deep into his aching hole.

He couldn't stand or run away, his legs weak from his orgasm and his body tired from the sudden bloating from his unnatural impregnation. (Reader) carefully pulled out after finishing, satisfied from laying their first brood. The man wasn't a bad host for their offspring, still smiling through his drool and tears. His full body was cradled against (Reader's) protectively, feeling content with the new life laid inside of him.

(Reader) may have only needed a warm body, but they didn't mind using this one for the rest of their mating needs ❤️

#kinktober #cw monsterfucking #egg laying #cw abduction #monster reader #yandere x reader #x reader

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verus-veritas · 3 months

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Died and Gone to Heaven

Reworked caption story by RookCaps

"Welcome back to heaven, Atreus." The enormous scantily clothed man boomed. Jeremy had just awoken after he thought he had died saving a man by pushing him from the path of a bus hurtling towards him.

"Who... who are you?" Jeremy asked. His voice was not his own, it had a deep and masculine quality to it that was totally alien to him.

"Ah, amnesia - I am Kyrion, King of The Gods. Don't worry my son, it is normal to have temporary memory loss after living as a mortal for so long."

Son? Mortal? Is this man a god? Who is this Atreus person? Jeremy thought as he looked down for the first time, seeing the absolutely perfect adonis body below him covered only by a simple fabric that would not be considered appropriate by even the most risqué individual. Oh my god! I must be this Atreus. The hospital must have me on some crazy drugs for me to be tripping like this.

"Oh my son, my prince, I can see you are distraught. Here, I will bring you to your quarters to recover." The huge man grabbed hold of Jeremy, lifting him effortlessly. Jeremy felt like a child being cradled in Kyrion's arms.

The God King left Jeremy in a room nearby. Overwhelmed, he lay down to sleep, trying to avoid thinking about the odd yet incredible sensations coming from his god-like body. As Jeremy drifted off to sleep, he hoped he would reawaken free from this crazy fever dream.

— This must be real then. I've tried to find a more sensible explanation but all evidence points to the crazy fact that I am now in possession of this heavenly body. Jeremy had awoken to find himself still in the prince of gods, Atreus's body. He ran his hands all over those perfectly sculpted muscles, every touch leaving his new body feeling invigorated and powerful. As he grabbed his thickened and hardened manhood and thrust into it, he let out a powerful roar while golden semen coated his entire chest. After some more incredibly pleasurable self exploration of his new body he had turned to trying to find out what had happened.

He looked around his bare room for information but could not find any information at all. It was only when he walked to look in the mirror that he realized that it wasn't merely a mirror at all. It seemed to be a magical artefact of some kind, displaying whatever information he wished to see. It was there that he had learned more about this new domain. He found that Gods and Goddesses were in fact real. They had created humanity as an experiment and entertained themselves by interfering with the mortals as they saw fit. All human religion was based on one or many of the Deity's that existed in this heaven. Recently, the last couple thousand years, Kyrion had restricted Gods and Goddesses from interfering with humans directly - only he was allowed to do so and he chose to do so rarely. Punishment for Gods consisted of banishing them to live as mortals temporarily, usually for one to fifteen lifetimes. There were only 138 Gods and Goddesses, reproduction is strictly controlled by the God King.

After the brief history lesson on what seemed to be the origin of all religion Jeremy knew of, he turned to trying to figure out how he even ended up here. He found he was in the body of Prince Atreus, son of God King Kyrion. Atreus would inherit the throne if Kyrion was to die. No God had died since Kyrion had taken control, as only a Godkiller weapon could end a God's life and the new regulations put in place had prevented such weapons from being created.

Jeremy wondered if this magic mirror artefact could recall the accident that had led to this whole situation, when he had pushed that man out of the way of the bus. The mirror immediately responded to his thoughts, displaying the street he had been on that day. Just before the bus barrelled towards the oblivious hunk, who appeared to be a more human version of his current body, time slowed down.

He saw a gold glowing beam extending vertically above the scene of the impending accident, the handsome man had a silvery ethereal trail extending from his body - slowly being pulled up by the golden light. Jeremy saw himself shove the man out of the way, splatting into a bloody mess on the pavement. The man's silvery soul floated back into his muscular body while a similar, albeit much dimmer, blue ethereal mist left Jeremy’s broken body. His own soul was vacuumed up where Atreus's had meant to go.

Jeremy sat down, realizing the gravity of the situation. Should he tell Kyrion that he was not the son he appeared to be? Should he just keep quiet? He wasn't sure how the Gods would react if they knew a mortal was now in possession of one of their immortal bodies.

Distraught, he sat down in the chair beside him. He felt an odd solid object press against his beefy leg. Pulling at the cushion, he found a small glowing dagger hidden beneath the folds. Gripping it he felt an awesome power flowing through it. What does this mean?

Jeremy noticed a blinking emerald crystal in the hilt of the dagger. He rubbed his rugged finger across the gem, a strange gold light emanated from the crystal, producing an ethereal message in the air:

Mortal,

I was able to place your soul in the Prince's body without the detection of the

immortals. Not even your new father, the tyrannical Tyrion, has realized my deception. For one thousand years I have plotted his demise so I can take control as I deserved. He is the bastard son of Khronus, not me! I have one simple task for you, mortal. If you succeed, I will leave you in Atreus's body to rule by my side as my personal guard. You will no longer be a mere mortal, but a god. My task is simple, use the dagger I have left for you and plunge it into Kyrion's heart. I have scheduled a meeting with him this evening. You will join the meeting and murder him while he is distracted. He will never suspect his dim-witted son to betray him. Do this, and you will be rewarded.

Mishara, God of Deception

Jeremy didn't know what to do. The offer was enticing, he could be a god!. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to give up his integrity to be immortal, and he definitely didn't want to be this power-hungry Mishara's personal plaything.

He had only been among the gods for a day and he was already involved in their murderous and aristocratic politics. How could these super beings be so primitive? I guess we are created in their image, but we seemed to have evolved past this archaic style of government, Jeremy thought.

Hours later, Jeremy accompanied God King Kyrion to meet Mishara. Jeremy observed the two arguing about the state of human-god affairs. He could tell that this debate had been had before.

When the debate became more heated, Kyrion arose to his massive height to look down upon the God of Deception. His back was turned to Jeremy, so this was his opportunity to kill the king and keep this god-like body for himself.

He removed the dagger that had been hidden underneath the fabrics and raised it above his head.

Jeremy hesitated for a moment, thinking about what he intended to do, then stepped past Kyrion and plunged the God Killer dagger into Mishara's chest. Mishara's face twisted in shock, shouting, "You traitorous mortal!" The god fell to the ground, life leaving him as golden blood flowed from his chest.

"What have you done, Atreus? What mortal was Mishara talking about?" Kyrion asked with an edge to his voice, he did not know why his dim-witted son had done what he had done. Not trusting himself to speak, Jeremy poked the dagger's emerald; Mishara's message reappeared for Kyrion to read.

"So you are not my son, you are a human? I am surprised a mere human did not give in to their greed to steal an immortal body. You are more just than many gods, as evidenced by Mishara's betrayal. You deserve a reward." The God King rubbed his chin. "You will take my son's place as prince, heir to the throne."

"What! But what about your son? He will die a mortal?" Jeremy asked, as he questioned if immortality really was worth the freedom.

"Was being a mortal so bad that a god should not live as one? Atreus was not suited for the throne, he was as dim and stubborn as he was handsome and strong; he is better suited to be a mortal man. He had voluntarily become mortal as a vacation from the pressure of his position. He abandoned his duty as prince; no, you are humble and just, more fit for the throne than he ever could be."

Jeremy knew he could not argue with the God King, he had to accept what he had been given. He was now Atreus, God and Prince, heir to the throne of gods and goddesses. It would not take long before he came to love the glory of his immaculate body of a literal god. His to enjoy for the foreseeable eternity.

Hey everyone! Hope you've all been well! As for myself I've been feeling better health-wise, and I'm finally getting more time for writing again! I can assure you that the writing itch never left my body, as I've made a list of stories I'm planning on finishing in the foreseeable future! Stay tuned, guys! /Verus

#bodyswap #hunk #identity theft #magic

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dat1angel · 1 year

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May I Have Your Name?

DP x DC au where ghosts are basically the fae. Danny being half ghost gives him access to the fun bits like the fae magic, trickster abilities, and being able to eat/drink fae food with little to no side effects while he is less affected by the not so fun bits like being incapable of lying(he can but he feels really weird when he does) and being burned by iron(it'll give him a rash if in prolonged contact). Due to fae having extremely long life spans, he has outlived all his loved ones and moved into the infinite realms permanently after their deaths. This has caused him to lean a lot more into the fae traits as the years pass. He occasionally takes trips into different dimensions to cause mischief.

One such trip brings him to Gotham. He's in a park and due to his fae-ness the local fauna are extremely trusting and drawn to him so he has a small collection of birds, squirrels, and maybe even a stray cat or two following him around. This catches the attention of Damian who just so happened to be at that park. Damian walks over to this strange boy who has such an affinity with animals, and starts a conversation with him.

"How do you get them to follow you?" Damian asks as he slowly approaches, voice low to avoid scaring off any of the creatures. Danny glances over at Damian, a smile flitting across his lips, before turning to the gathered animals.

"Patience," he replies, lowering a hand for a young squirrel to climb on, lifting his hand, and cradling it near his chest, "and kindness". He turns back towards Damian and reaches for his hands, which Damian let's him take, and gently deposits the squirrel in his gentle hold. The squirrel looks up at Damian curiously, looks back to Danny who gives an encouraging nod, and then climbs up Damians arm and settling upon his shoulder. "It takes a truly gentle soul to gain an animals trust," Danny says, "Something that I have a feeling you possess. You are intriguing."

If it were anyone else, they may have clocked the way Danny spoke as strange, but Damian was too in awe of both Danny and the squirrel who was currently snuggling against his neck to notice. Even if he wasn't, however, he wouldn't have noticed as he himself was often told he spoke strangely, though he never thought so.

"This is incredible," Damian said, ever so gently bringing a hand up to stroke the squirrels fur. Danny smiled as he watched Damian interact with the squirrel, so kind and gentle, his curiosity and interest in the human growing by the second.

"May I have your name?"

Damian, who takes great pride in his name and would never consider hiding his identity, proudly proclaims, "Damian al Ghul-Wayne".

Danny's eyes sparkle with mischief and his smile grows into something a little too wide and suddenly all his features look just this side of odd. His ears a little too pointed and his teeth and nails a little too sharp and his eyes a little too bright, did they always look like that?

"Well Damian," and when he says his name something shifts in him, like he has no choice but to listen, and... what was his name again? This boy just said it, why in the world can't he remember what it is? "I think you'll be coming with me."

Damian can't stop himself from allowing Danny to take his hand and lead him further into the trees. What was supposed to be a small patch of trees in a park seem to thicken before his eyes, fog rolls in and licks at his heels and they emerge into a clearing that definitely wasn't there before. When he looks around, he can't see any of the park through the tree line. The air in front of them seems to ripple and waver until it divides itself and creates a gateway of sorts to a place Damian doesn't recognize as anywhere in Gotham.

"Come along Damian," Danny says and once again, he has no choice but to comply, allowing this stranger to take him away.

~~~~~~~~

So basically Danny is a fae and meets Damian and decides, hey I like this one, I'm gonna keep it and steals his name and takes him home. I picture it as Dead Serious but it doesn't have to be taken that way.

Other things I envision for this au include:

Danny showing Damian off to his friends in the realms(Kitty, Johnny, Ember, Skulker)

they congratulate him on his "first catch" and coo over Damian as if he was a new puppy and not a whole human person

Damian being very distraught over his inability to remember his name

Danny tells him that it doesn't matter and his name(and by extension Damian himself) belongs to him now

But if he really wants something to call himself he may go by Dove

Damian always keeps a communicator on him which he uses to contact his family and tell them what happened

They try to track his location but as he is in another realm they cannot

They reach out to Constantine because they need a magic user's help

Constantine hears that Damian got taken by the fae and nearly shits himself

He gives the batfam a run down on fae etiquette and then takes them on a field trip to the fae realm to try to convince Danny to give Damian back

Danny does not want to give Damian back

Anytime Danny gives Damian an order in which he says his name Damian has no choice but to comply

Danny doesn't intentionally abuse this but after centuries without normal human interaction he's lost touch with what is and isn't considered cruel

As if stealing someones' name and kidnapping them is in any way not cruel

So sometimes he ends up being a little mean

Forcing Damian to shut up if he starts being rude

Forcing him to sit or stand or go here or don't move

Once, in an attempt at defiance, Damian refuses to eat and Danny gets this cold expression and his features once again take on that just-this-side-of-odd look and he says "Damian, eat"

Danny goes out of his way to get food from Damians universe because he doesn't want him to have any side effects from eating the fae food

He wants to keep him and doesn't want to risk anything potentially harming him

Time across dimensions is kinda fucky

Idk if I'll continue this cuz I don't really know the DC universe well enough to write it. Everything I know I learned through fanfics. If anyone wants to try their hand at writing it you have my full permission just please tag me because I'd love to see what you do with it. It's up to author interpretation if Danny ever gives Damian back or not. Maybe he makes the batfam do some tasks to prove themselves to convince him to give him back or not. Maybe if you take the Dead Serious route then as they come to truly care for each other Damian is able to convince Danny that he wouldn't be happy living the rest of his life in the fae realm, unable to leave or see his family, and that is what eventually gets Danny to release him. But at that point they really care for each other(maybe already dating) so they keep in touch and Danny visits often and starts getting accustomed to socially interacting with humans again. He is very embarrassed about some of the things he did while Damian was under his possession after relearning human social norms.

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dreamsinmoonlight · 4 months

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Angel Cocoon

(Blame the brain rot. I watched Hazbin and had a dream about pathetic Adam and found myself deeply in love with this asshole. I did not expect it and I feel if I don't write I will explode so have this. Probably not my best work but it was stuck in my head all day at work; I have ideas for other stuff, including a more indepth fic (might be x reader, might be x oc, haven't decided yet). Hopefully this isn't too bad though

Update: Now with a sequel, whaaaaa? Angel Massages up and running

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Adam (damned pathetic man), angel!Reader

Pairing: Adam x Reader

Genre: Comfort, fluff (not smutty? For Adam? I'm impressed by myself sometimes)

Summary: Every morning this happens. You do not mind.)

Every morning you were thankful that heaven's temperature was always perfect. Because every morning you woke up in a state that could best be described as the Cocoon.

When you first started dating the egotistical, loud mouthed, foul mouthed, perverted asshole known as the leader of the exterminators, aka Adam the first man or “Dick Master” if he could ever get his way, you had expected a lot of things. Getting your ear talked off on a regular basis, all sorts of pet names running the gambit from honestly a bit sweet (what, you liked being called sugartits) to you're-lucky-i-don't-take-you-seriously-Adam (who calls their significant other a slut, really), being expected to go to most if not all of his music gigs, occasionally having your back blown out because damn could that man fuck, learning to find some of the stupidest things funny because he managed to make it so; these were things you expected or at least got better used to. It was sort of like dating a hyperactive teenager but nine feet tall and with the strength enough to swing around a guitar-axe like it was a pool noodle. You had not had a normal day since the moment you agreed to this and you had quickly realized that that was fine by you.

But this. This you did not expect. Every morning, every single morning because God forbid you be allowed to sleep alone, you woke up not to your room, not to the ceiling or the sunlight filtering through the window or even your blankets. No, instead you woke up to the first man, first of the human angels, curled around you like you were going to disappear if he didn't hold you as tight and completely as possible. To call what he did a koala hug would be a disservice and did nothing to describe this phenomena, which upon the first morning after you had fallen asleep in bed with him you had freaked out a little over. You still were startled every time you woke up to it since. It was more like what you coined it as: a cocoon, created by the combination of two factors.

One: Adam. He was of course much bigger than you, a giant among angels and that was how you liked it. After all who didn't daydream of climbing a tree once in a while? Except this tree loved to talk and could make you feel things you were pretty sure was very much not pure. You were a good, solid four feet shorter than him, almost half his size; this worked in your favor when you wanted to hide behind him because of some stupid prank or when you again decided to climb onto him or honestly generally being picked up by the troublemaking angel which he certainly liked to do. The other side was that when he curled up his body enough it could surround you with little effort at all. Those arms of his wrapped easily around you and you could feel the fraction of true strength with which he held you, still more than enough to hold you where you were. His legs were folded up just enough to cut off escape from below, leaving you cradled against his body. His head tucked down, buried in your hair, he was warm and hairy in multiple places, and if you were absolutely honest a little overweight for someone who lived in heaven of all places. But none of these things bothered you and in the position you were in, your head pressed against his bare chest, you could hear the ever surprising existence of a heartbeat within a long dead man's chest. You felt your own calm hearing it; you couldn't help but love it.

Two: his wings. Oh those beautiful golden appendages, almost as beautiful as those golden eyes of your idiot boyfriend's. The feathers shimmered and shone near enough to rival the sun and you could see them past your prison of Adam flesh. How he could sleep so peacefully with them wrapped around you both was a mystery you spend every morning contemplating; it could not possibly be comfortable. Your own shuddered lightly on your back in sympathy but trying to stretch yours only brushed them against his and his, as they always did when this happened, quaked but did not open. He slept with them wrapped around you two like an eggshell, encasing you both and leaving no escape all around.

You reached out by instinct, running your fingers lightly along the feathers. They too were warm and soft as down yet you knew how strong they truly were, how strong his wings were like all other parts of him.

Save maybe his psyche. You felt the feathers shiver under your touch and he made a noise in his sleep, nuzzling his face further into your hair, his arms holding tighter to you. You woke like this every morning, since the first time you'd fallen into bed with him, and at first it was a mystery why, like so many things about him. How could he be so loud, how could he be so crude, how could he be so rude. But bit by bit you'd learned and you had come to understand.

He held onto you like you might disappear. Somewhere deep down that's exactly what he feared would happen. You knew about Lilith, you knew about Eve, and you knew how to read subconscious messages. He encased you like he was afraid otherwise you'd slip away, that you'd leave, that you'd go too. You woke to your head against his chest; how often had he fallen asleep with his on yours? Adam was many things, and truthful about what was really going on in his head and heart was definitely not one of them, but it didn't take a genius to know why he hated letting you out of his sight. Why he always held you like this in his sleep. Why he got enraged whenever the idea of you ever meeting Lucifer Morningstar came up.

Could you blame him? You couldn't and nor could you resist a smile as you wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes and snuggling close to your ever-so-troublesome lover.

Sure you probably should get up soon but honestly it was hard to want to when you felt comfy right where you were. Besides it wasn't like you really minded all that much what would happen next after you both woke; he'd whine and you'd massage his sore wings. But you'd long since stopped trying to convince him to not sleep like that.

It was hard not to love being loved so deeply after all.

#hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #did not expect my first hazbin hotel fanfic to be for this fucker #i hate you adam i really do #stop being so hot #and yes #adam is chubby #i stan the man who let himself go #more to love after all

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apollo1three · 5 months

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Hello! can I plz request the obey me bros with their children, you can choose if u want them to be their daughter, son or multiple. i just really wanna see them as like dads, like a scenario maybe when they learn to walk or say their first word you dnt have to if you don't want to! and if it's too much can i have just Beel Mammon or Lucifer :3

AHH MY FIRST REQUEST!!! I’m sorry for taking so long! I haven’t checked my dusty musty crusty a$$ inbox in a while ;-; also nonnie u don’t understand how much I love domestic, sappy, fluffy af stuff like this <3<3

Ofc I’ll do all of em, but I’ll do them in parts so you don’t have to wait for me to finish all seven ^^

------

An unimaginable type of love (Lucifer x f!reader)

The demon brothers with their babies (1/7)

Demons are not born, he once told you; they manifest – either as a product of great sin or demonic energy. Demons do not feel the need to procreate, they cannot- they do not get pregnant, and they certainly do not give birth.

So how is it that the Morningstar finds himself staring down into sparkling crimson eyes, reminiscent of the deep shade of his, with a softness akin to yours? How is it that he cradles a squirming bundle made from the love between him and his human wife?

With a life only ever dedicated to servitude, Lucifer would’ve never dreamt of creating a family of his own. Never in his time in the celestial realm would he have imagined small, fragile little arms, reaching out for him to hold them in his. Never could he have imagined the possibility of a being regarding him in the sentiment with which he had once regarded Him.

He eyes your sleeping form, snuggled into the comfort of the large bed, and he’s overcome with a fondness that words could not explain the level of. To be loved unconditionally by you, and to be given the most precious gift of all. What had he done to deserve such a thing? - something that was once an unfathomable idea - did he deserve it?

He cradles his daughter in his arms, stroking her little face, and the giggle she lets out is so precious, so much like you, and has him nuzzling his nose into her puffed up little cheeks. You had once light-heartedly complained to him about carrying her in your stomach for nine months, only to have her come out identical to him. Though he'd never admit it, your husband was proud of the notion (at the time, you swore you could see puffed up feathers behind his form), but it was irrefutable how the child carried herself with a poise that was undeniably like yours: a mischievous, yet endearing glint in her eyes that surely meant trouble in the foreseeable future. Lucifer didn’t mind, though.

He mutters, “my darling, what are you doing up so late at night?”, to which his only response is a squeal and few kicks of tiny feet. He tuts back, playfully. “So noisy, my love. Won’t you let your mother sleep?”

There’s a slight breeze from the open balcony, and he gets up from his side of the bed with your daughter rocking gently in his grasp. “Let’s go outside for a bit, come now.”

The way he carries her is careful, protective, and much more assured than the way he had first carried her after her birth. He wasn’t used to dealing with humans, let alone any living thing, in their infancy. Angels and demons did not have an infantile period, and it shook him inwardly the first time he held her, so small and breakable. You, a fully grown human woman, were fragile enough as is – but a human infant? It took some stern reassurance that the child he considered so small and breakable was his just as much as she was yours for his paranoia to waver.

‘She’s ours, Lu.’

(Fatherhood. Such a human experience, and he had only you to thank for it.)

Ushering to the Devildom fireflies, she blows raspberries that makes him want to litter his daughter in even more kisses. So he does, far more unreserved than if it were in front of you (while he loved you and trusted you with his heart and soul, showcasing such unabashed doting was still awkward for new to him). So disgustingly affectionate; the past him would’ve laughed at the notion of such outwards display of emotion directed towards anyone or anything – a hit to his pride, to the very thing he embodied. But to the him right now, such a thought never even crossed his mind.

“Do you see that, my love? Aren’t they pretty?”, he smiles softly, tenderly, eyes creasing at the corners. He pokes at her mouth, now endlessly razzing. “Alright, who taught you to do that? Was it Uncle Mammon? Belphie?"

To the him right now, his pride was in the form of his beautiful wife, and his darling little girl.

“Daddy will always protect you two, I swear on it.”

Absentmindedly stroking her head, a thousand thoughts run through his head. He contemplates heading back inside as the wind picks up, worried you might be getting cold. You’ve been all over the baby since she arrived (and even before then, too), insisting that her crib be placed in the both of your bedroom (much to Asmodeus’s chagrin, adamant that your old room would make the most beautiful human-realm-esque nursery) – while your motherliness was extremely attractive (or rather, all of you), and despite your daughter being an unusually well-behaved little thing, you deserved some quality rest.

He heads back, moving to lower her into her pink-embellished, Avatar of Lust™, crib, but freezes.

“Da..da!”

His movements are miniscule, microscopic, as he looks down at the cooing and giggling tot.

“Say- say that again, darling.”

“Dada!”

Time seems to slow, and he’s overcome with so much fondness, so much love.

“Haha! That’s right, here’s Dada..!” He practically throws her up into the air, accompanied by more squeaky giggles, and if anyone asks: no- his eyes don’t water (it’s merely the brightness of the Devildom moon).

Amidst childish laughter, she says it once more.

He lets out a shaky laugh of disbelief. His eyebrows are furrowed, and there's an uncharacteristically toothy grin on his face. Slowly, trembling hands (a fault of the temperature, obviously, despite him once mentioning the immunity of demons to things as 'trivial' as the weather) press his daughter's small body to his chest.

His daughter. His. His daughter. His wife. His brothers. His family.

It was then that he realised, although perhaps he had always known, that the love he felt for you and the life the two of you had created was different from His love. It was unconditional. The sort of love that allowed him to understand Lilith, the sort of love that he would gladly die for, kill for, be destroyed for. The sort of love that was once unattainable, unimaginable, was now closer than ever.

Lucifer wanted to share this moment with you.

“M-MC!”

#obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #om lucifer #obey me scenarios #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me shall we date #mammon obey me #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me hcs #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines

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petit-etoile · 11 months

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*meekly raises hand* I'd had an idea for a drabble prompt. That hug Astarion gets? What if it also led to him kissing Tav, really kissing them for the first time? Like one that he is able to put his heart into without the fear of being used and tossed aside?

wave after wave (like a transparent star)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 762 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, kissing, gender neutral tav, human!tav if you squint archiveofourown: here. .

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils, be added to the taglist here

summary: What if the hug also led to him kissing Tav, really kissing them for the first time?

‘I want,’ you say with the slightest shake of your head, ‘I want. I want — ’

This, is what you would say if you had the words to speak. Instead, you stare at Astarion with a sense of unrelenting urgency between the two of you. It’s as though you are frozen in time with your palm resting flat against his, both of his hands framing yours protectively, his skin, his fingers, his everything laid bare against your silly little hand.

Astarion collides with you like a star racing across an ocean. He is a tide that overcomes you and threatens to take you out to sea. You wrap your arms around his thin frame to keep yourself grounded. The dark depths of the ocean swirls around you, but you hold onto Astarion and he holds onto you, your arms wrapped around his waist, his hand gently cradling the back of your head as he desperately presses his forehead against yours with a shuddering breath as he fights that urge to consume.

And just like that, a supernova creates itself in the middle of camp in the dark. You tilt your chin at just the right time to catch his mouth as he crashes into you. Astarion kisses you so passionately that you have no choice but to seek purchase on his shoulders to avoid toppling over. There’s hysteria in his tongue, in the way his lips tremble, but all you can smell is rosemary, bergamot, and brandy, and tears, yours and his together.

This might’ve been how he would have kissed his highborn lover back in Baldur’s Gate before everything. Before mindflayer and tadpole, before Cazador and the attack, before you and your frightening humanity. This is a kiss a magistrate would have given to a recently courted lover in private away from prying eyes. You almost feel as though you’re being swept off your feet, like you’re being properly romanced instead of hunted in the woods, and it does something to the pit of your stomach. You swoon.

‘I think,’ Astarion says thickly, ‘I know what I’m feeling for you.’

‘I know,’ you say, nuzzling his jaw. ‘I know you love me.’

His eyes soften and then, well, it really is a collision this time. Somehow, Astarion kisses you roughly and tenderly all at once. His nose presses sharply into your cheek, and you clutch his elbows like at any moment, if he chooses to let go, you’ll be stranded at sea. It’s a different kiss from all those you’ve experienced from him before. From the kiss during sunset, the kiss when he first drank your blood, and the shyest kiss from right after his confession. This is something else entirely. A fire let loose in the wood.

He kisses you like a man who has only known hunger. Astarion takes and he takes and he takes until you’re almost certain he’s hunting for your soul from your lips, and you would give it to him if you knew where to look for it. This is a kiss — a real and genuine kiss — from a man who has only known desperation, nails scraping against the grain, seeking something far beyond himself. You would feel scandalized by the passion if it were anyone else.

And when he’s done fervently kissing you, Astarion cradles your cheek in his hand and runs his thumb over the curve of your cheekbone as if you were the most precious idol he could have laid his hands on.

There’s something different about the gleam in his eye, a glossiness that you’ve never seen before, not really. Beneath all the vitriol and discomfort, there is a young man who wants nothing more than freedom.

He presses his forehead against yours and sighs, and the sound is relief composed as a symphony by the saddest souls. You return the favor, your fingers sliding across the familiar harsh lines of his face, and decide to show him the purest of emotions so that he knows.

‘I don’t know what comes next,’ Astarion says, his tone a touch agonized. ‘But wherever this leads, I know that I want it to be you.’

For once, his words are honest and match his intentions. It’s something you come to cherish. You’re the only one he’ll ever show this side to; this kind devotion belongs to you and you alone. This is the part of Astarion that Cazador can never touch. There is still hope in his skeletal frame.

You kiss his cheek softly.

There’s no other place you’d rather be than at Astarion’s side.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#my fic #anonymous #* a thousand lives，and one

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helluvapoison · 7 months

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lucifer always kissing your fingers your knuckles the palm of your hand your wrist !!! he just finds it tells your whole life, the hobbies you have, the surface you touched, life you have created or ended — he finds it astonishing because you were once human who got to breathe the earths air and run your hands through the dirt and maybe make snowballs during the winter time. lucifer is a cliche like that

y e s

lucifer’s always been infatuated with hands. they can create.. and they can destroy. they can say a lot about a person! some hands have scars or nicks, they could be clean or dirty, sharp or adorning bitten off nails. he takes note of if people gesture with them when they speak, how they’re held when said person’s relaxed. he doesn’t study hands intensely anymore, he simply doesn’t have the attention span, relying on a glance to convey more information to an introduction

yours though?

he could stare at your hands like they were a book and get lost in his own world just the same

lucifer adores your hands for an uncountable amount of reasons! your hands must have felt things lucifer can only imagine, or attempt to from your retellings. he asks you where that little scar on your knuckle came from. if you’ve ever splashed them in water and what did it feel like?

lucifer kisses the pads of your fingers and wonders what else you’ve experienced with them. and why, when you cradle his cheeks like he’s the most precious thing they’ve ever touched, does it feel like he, out of everything else, is your favorite?

he worships your hands just for being a part of you

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar headcanon #ask stuff

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animusicnerd · 1 year

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The Language of Flowers

☾ Genre: Fluff

☾ Warnings: N/A

☾ Pairing(s): Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader

☾ Notes: Entry for the event "new beginnings from @briarvalleyarchives. I think Diasomnia fans deserve a nice fluffy treat for all that's happening.

Malleus believed that humans were selfish, greedy, and annoying cowards. Throughout his long life, the Fae Prince has seen humans steal from themselves and others. Bring down their own kingdoms and destroy his people’s lands. He truly believed that most, if not all, humans were the most despicable things in the world. But even so, he could not deny that they were interesting.

Even though they touch everything that they destroy, humans were able to rebuild as well. He has seen the gardens they have built. The families they created. The art that they made. He has seen them thrive no matter the circumstances they faced. Humans were abhorrent creatures, yes, but the select few were admirable beings.

Malleus rarely took any time to research them. Yes, some humans lived in Briar Valley, but most kept to themselves and the families that they surrounded themselves in. They were rarely in the castle and although he had run into a few of them in the woods, Malleus never stayed any longer than he needed to. So, when he found himself falling for the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm—a magicless human, at that—he was not quite sure what to do. He was not well versed in human courting rituals and any advice he took from other humans did not seem good enough. The Prefect had captured his heart without him knowing, but as they were human, he was not sure where to go about courting them.

How does one capture a human’s cruel heart?

That was the first question Malleus had asked Lilia. He was the one to suggest that they attend Night Raven College so that the Fae Prince may expand his knowledge on humans and other species around Twisted Wonderland. He should be able to provide Malleus with the means of courting a human.

“How about flowers?” his caretaker suggested.

The pair sat in one of the black velvet couches in Diasomnia’s lounge. Green light emanated from the candles sitting on the brass candle holders that dotted the dorm, providing enough light to make up for the lack of windows inside. Lilia cradled a glass of tomato juice in his hands, sitting on the left end of the couch as Malleus held a mug of black coffee, sitting on the right end. The other residents in their dorm were fast asleep, leaving the two faeries to themselves and their conversation.

“That suggestion was given to me too many times to count,” Malleus stated. It was a repetitive proposition that was given to him by both Vil, Riddle, Cater and any other humans that he came across. He did not quite understand why giving them such a simple thing as a bouquet would make the Prefect happy. Flowers would not last as long as his love for them, but gold and gems would.

Alas, the last time he tried to give the Prefect a wonderful emerald necklace, they rejected his offer stating that they could not possibly take something so valuable. “I still don’t get why the Prefect won’t accept the gems and gold that I have given to them.” He sighed, feeling an ache in his chest as he remembered his latest gift being pushed back into his hands.

“Young Master, you must remember that the Prefect is a normal human,” Lilia chided, taking a sip from his cup. “Gems and gold are not the standard for them, not to mention it’s more inline with families like the Al-Asims.”

“If I can’t give gems, nor gold, then what shall I give them?” It was how dragon fae courted each other. Showering each other with the shiniest gifts that they could afford was the way that Malleus was taught to court others; although, it was assumed that he would take a fae lover, not a human. “And I do have the intent of marrying them!”

Malleus watched as Lilia sighed before placing down his tomato juice and snapped his fingers. A book appeared in his hands titled: A Guide to Floriography. Sitting up from his seat, Malleus leaned in closer as his caretaker flipped through the yellowed pages before stopping and meeting Malleus’s gaze. “I am well aware of your feelings towards the Prefect and flowers are a sure-fire way for you to properly confess your infatuation with them. It would help bring your relationship to the next level, so to speak.”

The prince looked at the green book in Lilia’s hands. Floriography was something that he was not interested in, and although he may know the meaning of a select few flowers, it was not important in his eyes. But if something as simple as a bouquet would be able to reach the Prefect’s heart, then he would send them one.

“Very well, I’ll play along.”

Lilia clapped his hands together and with a grin states, “Splendid! Let us begin.”

It was late at night when you heard the doorbell of Ramshackle ring throughout its halls. Grim was already sound asleep in your bed, snoring and muttering under his breath. The ghosts had already retired for the night as well. You were the only one awake at that hour and knowing the headmage, he must have sent something for you to take care of. Again.

With a heavy heart in their chest, you walked towards the front door. Upon opening it, a beautiful bouquet set in a green vase was the only thing left on the porch. Confused, you looked around the area, seeing nothing but darkness and the flicker of lights from the college. You didn’t know what this was for, but you did have an inkling of who might have given it. After all, Malleus wasn’t known as one of the greatest wizards for nothing. It wouldn’t be surprising for him to poof! into existence in front of your doorstep, drop off the flowers, and then disappear again.

Picking up the vase, you noticed the thorny vines and flowers painted around the vase glinting in the moonlight. A yellow card caught your attention. A gust of cold wind hit you, and you quickly went inside to avoid the cold. Once the door was shut, you looked back at the card tied to one of the stems of the flowers and read it:

My dear beloved,

For the last few weeks, I have been attempting to court you. I was not sure how humans started their courting rituals, so I started courting you in the way that I might court a faerie. I apologize for that as it seems that my intentions were not clear for my affections for you.

I shall make them clear right now.

My dear, since the night that we have met, I have been enraptured by you and your personality. I cannot say all that I feel through words alone, so I will let the flowers help me—as silly as that sounds. I will start with the ones on the vase.

Briar Rose – I Am Wounded

Initially, I was offended that you had rejected my gifts. Most people from my kingdom would be honored for such riches, but I forget that you are human and not of this world. So, while I am no longer wounded, I still feel the sting of rejection whenever I remember the returned gifts given back to me. Now, onto the bouquet.

Carnations – Fascination

The night that we had met, I admit that I was running from my guards. I had wanted to look at the beautiful gargoyles that sat atop the ledges of Ramshackle dorm and one such guard claimed that it was far too late for such a thing. I disagreed and went anyway. When you emerged from your dorm to see me, I was surprised that you had not known me, so I allowed you to give me a name. It took quite a while for you to find out my identity, but I still like the fact that you call me “Tsunotaro.” An interesting name and one that I cherish.

Red Chrysanthemums and Forget-Me-Nots – I Love You and True Love

I have loved throughout the years, but none as strong as my affections for you. Love is not something that is readily available for the fae, yet humans seem to have an affinity for it along with destruction. It’s funny. We are not able to lie so you would think that we would wear our hearts on our sleeves, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. We keep our hearts to ourselves, as close as we can, so for me to lay it bare before you and allow you to take it is something of great significance towards me, and I hope for you.

White Heather and Orange Blossoms – Protection and Innocence

You know nothing of this world, that much is certain, my dear. You have been moved from your home world to mine and knowing all the dangers that this world possesses, I vow to keep you safe. Innocence is something that is not common in this world, but naivety is. You have both and as amusing as it is, I know that if you were to leave these grounds and get hurt, I would never forgive myself for not being there with you. However, orange blossoms also represent eternal love; the love that I have for you. So even when you pass, know that I have loved you and will continue to love you until the day I inevitably pass as well.

Jonquil – Desire For Affection

If you are still reading this letter, I am sure by now that I have gotten my feelings across to you. Now all I yearn for is your affection in return. I wish to see you every morning with a smile on your face. I wish to have your arms around me, holding me gently. I wish to be with you, and I hope that you would allow me to be by your side. If you return my affections, please meet me tomorrow night outside of your dorm and give me your answer.

Yours,

Malleus Draconia

#briarvalleyarchives #twisted wonderland #twst #twst malleus #diasomnia #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #diasomnia x reader #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu

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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

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Throughout the many iterations of TMNT the four Turtles of the Hamato Clan have always been iconic but Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey aren’t the only Turtles of the family & there have been other mutant Turtles throughout the different iterations of TMNT

Another mutant Turtle is one that has been seen a few times in different TMNT iterations either following a ‘separated at mutation’ plot line or have the mutation happen later in the story

Venus

One of the other mutant Turtles that is quite well known within the TMNT fandom would be Venus De Milo who was the 5th Turtle in the Next Mutation show.

Her background was that she was a 5th Turtle that was mutated with Leo, Donnie, Raph & Mikey but got swept away in the sewers until she ended up in China Town where she was found by a Shinobi master & taken to be raised in Shanghai, she would later make her way back to New York & join the Turtle’s team.

Venus also makes an appearance as a character in the IDW comics as a former Punk Frog who was made into a Turtle by Dr Barlow using Donnie’s old shell.

Leo: What are you doing!? That was Venus De Magic the Queen of Quick Change!

There’s a slight possible reference to Venus in Rise with one of Leo’s favourite magicians being called Venus De Magic with Leo cradling the bust of one of his favourite magicians feeling a bit similar to Venus holding the statue head that gave her, her nickname & many people believe that there were plans to include Venus in Rise due to the plot of season 3 being the Turtles finding out they had two missing siblings but due to Rise not getting the season 3 it had expected we never got to find out if Venus really was one of the missing siblings in Rise.

Kirby

Closely related to Venus is the mutant Turtle Kirby a 5th Turtle that had been planned to be introduced in the 1990′s film series before the fourth movie was cancelled, named after the comic book artist Jack Kirby, Kirby was meant to be a Turtle from another dimension that would join the Turtles. There was talk of Kirby being the 5th Turtle in the Next Mutation but Saban Entertainment refused to do the series unless the 5th Turtle was a girl leading to Venus being created.

A version of Kirby was designed for the IDW comics where he was meant to be shown as part of the Splinter Clan in Future Lita’s future however though a design was created for Kirby he was not included in the actual comic.

Funnily enough Kirby the Turtle is not the only TMNT character to be named after Jack Kirby as April’s father in the 2012 series also shares the name Kirby

Jennika

Jennika is the 5th Mutant Turtle on the team in the IDW comics, she is a former Foot Clan Ninja who Splinter took under his wing & was mutated into a Turtle when Leo gave her a blood transfusion to save her life.

Before her mutation Jennika had been a friend of the Turtles & the idea of Jennika becoming a mutant Turtle had been tossed around for three years before it was finally finalised.

Jennika’s mutant form was originally designed by Sophie Campbell & coincidentally bares some resemblance to a fan character that Sophie Campbell designed named Artemisia (most likely named after the Italian painter Artemisia Gentileschi), the similarities between Jennika & Artemisia’s designs are said to be a coincidence as it was requested that Jennika’s bandana colour be yellow to match her hair from when she was human.

Sophie Campbell actually did get to include a canon version of Artemisia in the IDW comics by giving her a cameo in Future Lita’s future as a member of the Splinter Clan in the future.

Slash

Slash is arguably the 5th Turtle that has appeared in the most iterations of TMNT appearing in both the 1987 & 2012 series as well as appearing in both the Archie & IDW comics

In the 1987 series Slash was Bebop’s pet turtle who was mutated by Rocksteady & would later become the Turtle’s enemy, in the 2012 series Slash was Raph’s pet turtle who was mutated accidentally & would act as an enemy to the Turtles before becoming their ally & becoming the leader of the Mutanimals.

In the Archie comics Slash is an alien who was banished from his planet in the IDW comics Slash was mutated by StockGen who ended up following Hob & becoming an ally to the Turtles

Slash has even made a cameo in Rise appearing in the episode Bad Hair Day with a character meant to look like Mona Lisa.

Lita

Lita is a little girl who was mutated into a Turtle & taken in by Jennika & the other Turtles, she was named after Lita Ford (Jennika’s favourite singer), & she seems to view Jennika & the other Turtles as family as the Future version of Lita referred to Jennika as ‘mom’ & has called Raph, Donnie & Leo ‘Dad’.

It’s been shown that at some point in the future Lita becomes the apprentice & assistant to a grown up version of Renet

It appears that the future version of Lita is arguably especially close with Leo due to him being her Sensei

Uno, Yi, Moja & Odyn

Uno, Yi, Moja & Odyn are Turtles raised by Casey Marie Jones as the second generation of Ninja Turtles in the Last Ronin universe. The Turtles each seem to take after one of the original four Turtle’s with Uno taking after Leo, Yi taking after Donnie, Moja taking after Raph & Odyn taking after Mikey.

Each of the Turtles are named after the number one in different languages.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt

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moodymisty · 1 year

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Bad Batch - Sleeping/Cuddling Headcanons

Author’s Note: I've had these in my drafts since I started this blog a year ago, so... enjoy? :3

Relationships: Tech x Gn!Reader, Crosshair x Gn!Reader, Hunter x Gn!Reader, Wrecker x Gn!Reader, and Echo x Gn!Reader

Warnings: One or two very mild hints of lewd content, so I'm being very safe 18+ only

✦ Wrecker ✦

Wrecker has always found the feeling of sleeping with something- or someone- in his arms soothing. Maybe it's the weight, or just the feeling of his arms cradling around something soft. Lula was always there for him, and he still has the stuffed tooka sitting comfortably, and close by, in the corner of his bunk.

When you came along, you ended up replacing the plush tooka in a way; Serving as a new, larger thing to hold.

Whether he's on his back and you're on his chest, or on his side and he's got your front or back against his chest, Wrecker will always have both arms effectively caging you in a hug; Holding you tight.

When it's cold, as The Marauder often gets when you're in hyperspace, it's magical. This man is a human heater in it's purest form, and him snuggling close is warmer than almost any blanket.

And also waking up after some sleep is almost always a highlight. You'll get a kiss and a 'good morning' (even if you're in hyperspace and gods know what time it is) before you have to break apart and get out of bed. Or his bunk. Or the co-pilot's seat because you fell asleep in his lap again.

But Wrecker is usually a heavy sleeper, so you've become a master at slowly wriggling your way out if you need to in the middle of the 'night', and then slipping right back in, feeling his arms re-tighten once you return into his reach.

Every now and again however Wrecker will be latched onto you too tight to allow you freedom, and you end up having to wake him up in order to escape.

Sometimes he'll let you go right away, but other times he'll put up a fight and smirk before putting some weight on you, trapping you with him until you pay the toll to escape.

The toll is always a kiss or sometimes two; Though lately he keeps raising the price...

✦ Hunter ✦

Hunter admittedly takes a decent while before he's willing to be affectionate to the degree of cuddling.

He has to get using to being with someone in such a vulnerable state, and train himself out of bad habits that tell him to keep these types of things to himself, and people at arms length.

But you're nothing if not persistent, (while also being patient and understanding of course) and after a few times of falling asleep on his shoulder or inviting him to spend the night at your home, he eventually gets his inner thoughts sorted out and allows himself to indulge.

Once he's more comfortable, Hunter is always the big spoon. Tugging the covers almost and sometimes completely overtop of the both of you, Hunter will wrap his arms around your waist and tug close enough that his face presses against the back of your head.

It almost feels like a little cocoon or nest in a way, and even if you don't normally sleep like this, you have to admit it's very comfortable. (Though maybe having Hunter as part of the equation helps just a bit.)

As he's getting more sleepy he'll always take a deep breath and sigh, your hair brushing against his skin. He once tried to explain it to you once; That your familiar scent being so close meant that you were safe and he could relax. That with you in his arms, he could loosen his shoulders and close his eyes, knowing you were right here and unharmed.

Hunter always hates the way he eventually has to drag himself from the little pocket of warmth beneath the blankets you both created, but he at least got a good night's rest.

When he can't have you close by however, he absolutely has something that serves your place usually while deployed on The Marauder.

For awhile it was one of your nightshirts, and another time it was a small blanket you'd use to drape over your legs when it was cold. They both smell like you, and with his senses it helps him get to sleep that little bit faster when you aren't right there.

✦ Tech ✦

Tech often falls asleep in places he shouldn’t, and most times you end up having to herd him back towards his bunk in order to get him to sleep properly.

If and when he does lay down he’s almost always on his back, leaving an arm away from his body so you can tuck against his side.

It was a bit awkward for him at first; He felt like he needed to figure the 'right' way to do sleep in the same bed together or hold you. He ended up taking your comfort as him doing it 'right' enough however, and quickly embraced his new sleeping habits.

If he doesn't instantly pass out he’ll usually tinker or read something, sometimes out loud; As once you'd asked him to, eager to listen and him eager to share. It also helps that Tech's voice is extremely consistent and soothing, and more often than not can lull you to sleep faster than anything else can.

Recently however, you’ve been trying to read to him as well. He had given you his datapad with something pulled up and quietly asked if you would; Saying he wanted to continue reading, but his head hurt too much to stare at the screen for any longer. But Tech can't leave things unfinished, even if for a few hours.

He seemed almost surprised when you had said yes, every now and again glancing over to see his eyes closed with goggles off while you read on to the next sentence.

Now almost every time you're both pressed side to side, with Tech always having an arm around you as you or him partake in some pre-sleep winding down.

Sometimes you might stutter or find the topic he's chosen a bit boring, but he seems to really enjoy it, listening to you repeat sentences of borderline incomprehensible technological theorycrafting while you wiggle deeper into the hold his arm has around your shoulders. Your cuddles and sleeping habits are a consistent, well oiled machine, which always end with a goodnight kiss.

(Meanwhile, Hunter is cursing his hearing. Please put down the datapad it's been over an hour and you're both still mumbling about software constraints and he is suffering.)

✦ Echo ✦

Echo has always had trouble sleeping, especially before you’d arrived in his life. Though even if he does, and it's obvious, it takes more than a little while for him to allow himself to show he is troubled by it.

So it ends up taking a little while before you get to the point of cuddling up, and even then, you can feel Echo is a little stiff and awkward. It wasn't bad when you sit in the same seat as him, just laying your legs over his so your weight doesn't weigh down his legs, but now that your limbs are all tangled up, it's a bit more obvious.

He admits that he worries his cybernetics make him uncomfortable for you to lay with, and that maybe it isn't the best idea. He doesn't want to hurt you, he says, illuding to you waking up with dents on your skin from where your leg laid against his.

But you wake up with dents in your skin from your clothes or your leg falling off the side of your bed or the bunks in The Marauder, you're not going to let something so silly prevent you from waking up with him beside you.

Speaking of Echo's cybernetics they often make him run a bit colder than the average person, but you have zero complaints. Especially if you're on a hot planet like Tatooine...

It also means you better have more than one blanket, as he'll probably end up stealing it while he sleeps. You're all snuggled against his chest with his chin on your head, until suddenly your back feels cold; The blanket having been pulled away.

There's also been a few times that he's teasingly put a cold piece of metal against your skin under the blankets and made you almost squeal, but bringing that up always makes him feign innocence.

But most of all, he loves waking up before you, and enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep with you again. Sometimes he'll sneak a little kiss but it oftentimes it ends up waking you up, but you don't mind.

✦ Crosshair ✦

Crosshair often sleeps partly leaning up, even if you lament about how that would destroy your back if you ever tried it.

Part of it is always wanting to be alert and ready to go if anything happens, and sometimes he simply passes out while working on something (his rifle, usually).

When you end up joining him in his own bunk instead of your own, for the first while he continues the habit, feeling as you lay close to him with your head by his waist.

He pretends to not be fond of the affection- as he always does- though he never actually puts his foot down. He continues to let you awkwardly sleep on him, until he finally relents to start laying on his back and you throw an arm over his stomach.

He'll throw his arm over his eyes and fall asleep, and even he can't deny that when he wakes up, he feels a little better than usual.

The sniper is absolutely a heat leech, and he- embarrassingly so to him, gets particularly cuddly when he's cold. He runs chilly, and he doesn't say it, but he really enjoys having someone keeping the little pocket of air underneath the one thin blanket he has warm because his body can't seem to do so itself...

He's far more open to this sort of affection when you're alone, like in your home per say, but if you're on The Marauder, he doesn't mind too much if you sneak into his bunk. He'll give you a little side eye, but it's more amused than anything.

It's not gotten to the point that if you for some reason don't instantly join him as you usually do, Crosshair will end up getting almost frustrated, and you'll be able to feel the heat on your back.

Sometimes you'll wake up randomly almost feeling like he's brushing your hair out of your face or touching your forehead, but he always denies doing such a thing with a scoff if you sleepily roll over and ask.

#the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch hunter x reader #the bad batch crosshair x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #echo x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #mywriting #reader insert #reader #the bad batch echo x reader #the bad batch wrecker x reader

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penvisions · 8 days

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zest {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Your time away with Joel starts now and he makes you feel all kinds of things.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: canon typical violence (fleeting), canon typical language, canon typical angst, rude people, offensive behavior, body shaming, fat shaming, reader gets shoved one (1) time, reader defends herself, brief misogyny, feral joel, joel beats the crap out of someone, joel goes into protective mode, threatening words, worldview of pregnangy being a negative thing, fat shaming, body shaming, reader is canonically mid-size, illusions to smut, adult content, pet names (darling, baby, love), the term slut used affectionately, some mild spice, flirting, they're insufferable your honor. um i think those are all the major ones pls let me know if i need to add more!

REMINDER: this is a sequel series, the previous series can be found here {garnish}

A/N: hi y'all, it's been a whirlwind lately! been trying to figure out the flow of this and i think i was maybe attempting to force this chapter to be more than this and it just wasn't working + made me frustrated. but you know what? not every chapter has to be massively 3k+, it can just be what feels and flows right, so here y'all go. i hope you enjoy these two as much as i do

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

He's been quiet since leaving the museum, something he had surprised you with a flyer for. He had picked it up in the lobby, had done some research online as he mumbled about some certain paintings, he thought you’d like that were on display, Ellie’s influence strong in his words. His desire to be a good provider and make this trip something to remember. Not that that was too hard, any time spent with Joel was good time, from easy jokes to teasing banter, soft moments as you both reveled in the life you two were leading, the life you two were creating.

Where he had let you guide him from countless exhibits to plentiful ornately framed paintings with a hand clasped around his own. He had seemed engaged enough, eyes alight as you turned to him with wide smiles and small giggles of excitement at the more interesting pieces. It had turned into a little game of 'weirdest little guy' where you each pointed to people and animals in the backgrounds and declared, 'it's you'. He had been the first to start it, by pointing out a woman dressed from head to toe in a tavern maids outfit brandishing a large knife. She had been shouting, her brow heavy and her expression heated.

You had followed his lead by pointing to a rather disgruntled lumberjack in the back of depicting a wintery landscape with a cabin. Though the man impressed in ink had been bald and rather terrified of the approaching bear.

From cats with too human faces, to frogs that looked stunned, to the most bruised or oddly shaded piece of fruit in a bunch or bowl, it had occupied you both throughout the whole building, through everything there was to see. He had brandished a newer, shinier credit card at the gift shop. allowing you the treat of stickers and a coffee mug you had cooed and awed over. But you knew it was the little onesie with colorful peach you had said was him printed on the front.

"To commemorate our first outing as a little unit." You felt so light, so free. Hormones letting you just be yourself at the moment, even if you had to stop to pee quite often. You had said so at the register, the clerk asking after your meaning behind picking it out. Your hands cradling your growing belly as you did so, delighting in the little kicks you had felt stir up as you stood in front of particular pieces. Stirring up at the combined laughter between you and Joel, so much so that you had gotten hushed from a security guard that made it even harder to cut it out. You're picturing the mirth and careful smile on his face even as he held a finger to his mouth in a motion to be quiet, chest rumbling with laughter even as he did so.

But now he was quiet beside you, as he guided the truck into a spot of a rapidly filling parking lot. He's not in a bad mood, per se, but you can sense he's quieted over something in his mind.

"Did- did you enjoy the museum?" You feel silly, like an awkward interloper that first day you had walked in for a first shift at the restaurant. Unaware of how things operated, hesitant to ask where to put your bag or where to get a clean apron from since you hadn't been able to locate yours. Like you had that morning you had woken up to him in your apartment, having slept on the couch after making sure you got home safely. The conversation that had followed, the uncertainty, the almost reproachful way you had asked him what was going on with him, with you, between you both. You feel the same slightly tense and on edge energy around him now as you did back then, when he gave you an impromptu tour of the space and then left you with paperwork to fill out.

You have no clue why perhaps it's the default to being out of town with him. Like there are parts of you he's yet to see and would caste judgement on. Though you know the worst he would do is tease you over something as benign at the way you idle on in the bathroom or fawn over street cats for far too long with a soft, silly coo or the places you tend to pick for coffee being on the extravagant side.

He thought over his answer, guiding the truck into the parking lot of a coffee house. He had said he would turn a blind eye to whatever decaf drinks you decided to indulge in while out of town. The coffee shop you had seen online garnering your attention and he memorized the drive from the museum.

He’s getting out of the truck, rounding the hood and opening the door as he speaks.

"Not really my cup of tea, but it's yours, darlin'. Do anythin' to spend time with ya and I figured this would light you up like a christmas tree." He's smiling softly at you now, his lips looking perfectly kissable beneath his thick moustache and trimmed facial hair. Face shifting from introspective to present, returning to you and feeding off your nervousness in a way you knew he hoped would settle it.

"I do ramble a lot about stuff from my studies, huh." You can't help the feeling of adoration that floods heat in your face, almost like you've got a schoolgirl crush on the man beside you, despite the ring on your finger and the bump of your belly. His hands are warm on you as they help to steady your movements out of the passenger seat, the tall cab a little daunting and the worry of falling in the forefront of your mind. You were being so cautious, words of failed pregnancies your step mother had cited for the deterioration of your parents relationship.

"Yeah, but I listen to every word even if I don't understand it all." He's brushing those delectable lips against the apple of your cheek. "Listen to ya ramable all day, even if it's about nothin'."

"You're smart too, Joel." Insistent words that are swept away with a brush of his hand over your shoulder. But you can see the way his ears tinge pink at the tops, he's smitten at the idea of you thinking so, even if he doesn't himself.

"Not the same way you are, darlin'. Got math and science smarts, practical. You got the artsy smarts, fun and entertaining. Same as Ellie."

"You and Sarah, me and Ellie. We all balance each other out." You lean up into his space, determined for him to hear the good things you have to say about him. He's a good man, just a little rough around the edges. And he was yours.

"We do, don't we. Perfect little family, all for you." He meets you halfway, pressing his lips to yours and stirring butterflies in your ribcage. "You complete us, sabrosa. Been waitin' for you my entire life."

"I've been searching for you my entire life, I just didn't know it, Mr. Miller." His eyes are hooded as he takes in the sight of you so close, pressed to him and held tight by his arms around your waist, your own around his shoulders.

"Glad to have been found, Mrs. Miller." Another kiss, little whimpers telling him exactly how you feel about the confession, the truth of his words that he had tumbled over in his mind every day you were apart. You were his and you were back in his life where you belonged.

It's a little loud, the establishment crowded around the lunch hour. But it's the comforting scent of roasting coffee and the lingering scent of Joel’s cologne on the front of his shirt as he holds you to his chest with his hands around your ribs. Sighing, you look over the menu wanting for each and every interesting flavor combination. But you know you get one today, that’s what you’d limited yourself too because decaf was only so much better than regular espresso. There was no true way to roast out every last bit of caffeine even if the doctor had also agreed a few indulges throughout the pregnancy wouldn’t cause any harm.

“What’re you gonna get?” Joel’s fingers tap lightly at your stomach, the little kicks still going and endlessly entertaining him. Small taps elicited responses more times than not, something you were sure you would never tire of. The feeling of the small being growing inside of you, already so enamored with Joel softening something deep inside of you.

“I think maybe one of macadamia combination ones. Sounds yummy.”

“You know what else sounds…yummy?” His nose is a distraction as it brushes along the back of your head, almost near your ear as he leans closer to it and rumbles his taunting words.

“Joel Miller, if you do anything that prevents me from enjoying my coffee, I swear-“

“Relax, darlin’.” He nips at the top of your ear, causing you to snort at the tickling sensation. “Not gonna come between you and your coffee. Just lettin’ you know where my mind is at.”

“Slut.” You smirk to yourself as he freezes momentarily, allowing you to step out of his hold and toward the counter. You order the macadamia and white chocolate latte, hot and decaf. When asked if that was all for the order, you turn to find Joel closing the gap of a few feet with a smirk of his own.

“I’ll take a blended mocha chip, medium please.” You catch his eyes as he glances at you out of the corner of his own. “Gonna get you back for that, pretty girl.”

“What?” It’s kinda true.” A tongue is stuck out and his eyes dilate every so slightly as he presses the same shiny black credit card to the reader. Never once breaking the contact.

“Then what do you call someone who nearly had me pulling over because she couldn’t keep her mouth to herself on a four hour drive?” He questions lowly as he steps away from the register, wallet going back into the butt pocket of his pants.

“Your fiancé.” You smile sweetly at him, an eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. His chuckle is a low vibration against your shoulder as he shuffles you toward the pickup end of the counter. He’s filthy, but so are you. There’s no denying it, even in jest. That part of your relationship had gotten off to a rocky start but once it had kicked off, damn if that wasn’t something you two were committed to no matter what. The physical attraction so strong, the desire for each other never waning, it’s what started this in the first place and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re too right, perfect match.” Lips curled up in matching smile, you wonder if his heart skips beats and his stomach flips just like yours. Later you find out exactly what you to do him, when he grunts it into your ear as he fills you from behind.

It happens when you’re waiting at the end of the counter for pick up, Joel having run off to the restroom.

“Move your fat ass, tryin’ to get up to the drinks.” You’re shoved harshly with an elbow before the words even register. Your balance sways and your hair tousles to cover your face as you try to reach a hand out to catch yourself on the counter top, but your nails don’t gain any purchase. You collapse hard on the floor. Your palms sting as you try to prevent from landing flat, worry taking over as you do your best to avoid any pressure or damage to your middle. The guy is grumbling as he watches, the remnants of his coffee sloshed around the ceramic and splashed onto his crips white dress shirt.

“Sabrosa!”

Before you could even blink, Joel is right there helping you back up to your feet, a comforting hand on your stomach and on your shoulder as he looks you over. His full lips are a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth, but you know it isn’t aimed at you. At your small nod and tight-lipped smile, his hands fall from you and your turn with your arm crooked back. The crack of your fist on the guy’s jaw breaks the jovial atmosphere and everything goes silent as he falls hard on his ass. The ceramic shatters and the remnants of his latte fly into the air.

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“You assault my girl and didn’t expect anything to happen?” Joel demands angrily as he partially shields you with his own body, unsure if the man will retaliate. He’d gladly let you get in a hit, but you know he’d be damned if someone laid a hand on you. You’d seen it firsthand before, more than once. You’re your own person, as you’ve proven time and time again. Something he rather enjoyed about you, something you hoped he would continue to find endearing. Even as your attitude flared sometimes.

“She was in the way, it was barely a little shove!”

“You steamrolled me, asshole!” You step out from behind Joel a little, anger flaring and temper coming to bat. It was bad enough you had nearly fallen completely in on yourself but to then be brushed off and told it was nothing? You weren’t about to take it with a forced, polite smile and a feeling of guilt for not having handled the situation better later on in the evening.

“She’s pregnant, you fuckin’ idiot!” Joel roars, one of his boots coming down unnervingly close to the guy’s hand as he sets it flat to try and get back up. Lips frowning part to argue, but loud footsteps of workers rushing off to grab a manager cut him off. “You could’ve hurt her or my child with your reckless behavior!”

“Joel-“ You try to pull at his forearm, urging him to calm down. The veins showing in his skin and you can’t help the drag of your eyes across the length of them. Your stomach flips, body and mind reacting to the way he’s standing tall in front of you, ready to defend. It’s making your body hum, the way he’s so willing, so quick to protect. His instincts appealing to the most base part of your brain, your own reacting to them in a way that is utterly and completely primal.

“You knocked up the fat chick and you’re upset at me? Man, you’re in need of something stronger than coffee.” He’s trying to get back up, but Joel’s closing in on him.

“You ever talk about a woman that way again and I will end you!” Joel’s shouting as he allows you to pull him back, his chest heaving and his frizzy curls in disarray. His arm is putty in your hands, thick fingers tangling with yours in a comforting move even as his attention is focused on the man still on the ground.

“I think it’s best if you pick yourself up and leave, sir.” A large man in a plain black outfit approached, his hands on his hips. You don’t bother to respond to him, instead tugging Joel with you as you begin to walk toward the door.

“C’mon Joel, let’s just go too. I want to leave.”

“There’s no need for that, you two are welcome to stay.” The guy who you assume is the manager looks up at you as he crouches down to take the still fuming and arguing man. His polite but genuine smile falls as he hoists the man up and begins to walk him to the door. “We don’t tolerate hateful behavior here, you’re banned.”

“This is bullshit!” His shirt gets ruffled, his outfit wrinkling as he’s manhandled out across the floor. You jump as a hand gently brushed your shoulder, causing you to tense your hand around Joel’s and twirl to the left. Your confusion and slight worry eases when you see it was the barista that had taken your order.

“You’re drinks are ready, love. Are you okay?” Her smile is soft, the drinks offered to you. “That was quite a fall, do you need any water or want to sit down to catch your breath?”

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to remain in the café even if things were turning around and the atmosphere had gone back to what it was when you first entered. The music is playing softly again, though you’re sure it had never gone out, never actually cut to silence anywhere except for in your awareness.

Joel only turns to face her once the offensive man is shoved out the door. Your hand leaves Joel’s to reach for the do go cups, the warmth of the freshly made drinks sinking into your palms and calming you after the tense ordeal. The barista nods to Joel, her eyes wide and roving. You feel jealously wake up inside you as she takes his form in, even with you right beside him. The signs of your devotion to each other clear, from the defense he had taken for you to the way he’s surveying the café for any other signs of trouble. She’s holding out a small bag, her face visibly flushed when his fingers graze hers to accept it.

“We’ve also refunded your transaction, sir. And included a few things from the pastry case for the trouble.” Her hands are clasped in front of her now, the apron over her front marred with dried foam from steamed milk and espresso grounds. She’s pretty, she’s skinny. You can’t help the insecurity that bubbles up, she’s young and her eyes contain the same lust for life you had when you first moved away from home. You aren’t sure if you’re jealous of her obvious attraction to your fiancé or the attraction to life she exudes. She doesn’t seem to carry any mental burdens, like you had from glancing at what lies behind her eyes. But then again, you hadn’t appeared to either while clocked in and focused on working.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, many thanks.” His left arm curls around your waist, his lips brushing your temple once again. The girl nods before turning on her heel and retreated back behind the counter. “Do you want to stay, darlin’? You were so excited to sit in and look at all the photographs on the wall.”

“I…I would like to go, please.” You look up at him, catching his eye feeling off kilter. Social battery completely drained and yearning for the privacy of your lush hotel room and a bath.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel. We can take it easy until our evening reservations. How about I run us a nice, hot bubble bath, hmm?” His hand curls and guides you to stand directly in front of him, eyes searching your face. “We can soak until we’re all pruned up and I’ll even run it a little hotter for your comfort. Sound good?”

“I love you.” You surge up and press your lips to his cheek. His smile when you pull back grips around your heart and your stomach flips again, butterflies bursting to life. You do, you love him with everything you are, with everything you transformed into. His love in return the only thing that made you feel like you never had before. He was right, he had been waiting for you while you wandered and figured out what it was you wanted. You weren’t sure you had ever even explicitly voiced it or even discovered what it was beyond getting your credentials and teaching. But he had helped you to discover that what you wanted was a life with him. A simple, nurturing and real relationship with someone who saw you for exactly who you were.

You wanted to make sure he knew that as you connected your lips with his smiling ones.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, hmm? Somethin’ tells me you got some thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours.” He whispers against them, breath hot and teeth teasing your bottom one for the barest of seconds, the action sending a shiver down your spine. All you can do is nod as he pivots and leads you back to the truck.

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politemenacephd · 7 months

Text

Arachnophilia (Part Twenty-Five)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Word count: 4770

Notes: Going into the Halloween arc now hehe <3

With Miguel gone, you were left to lounge away the last few days of the rut. There was no real time to ponder, no long moments to think. You didn’t get to consider what would happen in the world outside Mig’s embrace because in your mind it was all that existed.

You were left to your primal urges, fulfilling them over and over in the filthiest, most basal ways possible, until at long last your body had decided it’d gotten its fill. You took ungodly amounts of Mig inside you. More thick ropes than some men could create in a lifetime, more rutting thrusts than most humans could take.

He shaped you to him in that earthen nest. Bit by bit, you were settling into him. Bit by bit you were falling into each other.

But eventually, just like the first heat, it ended. You were free, and you slept in, blissfully and wilfully pushing to the back of your mind that you’d have to go back to the HQ now it was over, and you’d have to face Miguel again.

Autumn was on its way. It was time to wake up.

…

‘Mi tesoro?’

You stirred awake slowly, snuffling and stretching beneath the sheets. You were wrapped like a baby in a cocoon, surrounding by lavish silk, and by god you were sore. Even the slightest movement of your limbs felt like you were swimming through concrete. You could feel the little pinpricks on your thighs where you’d been held, similar to the bite marks on your neck and shoulders.

That delicious ache, it was painful but enjoyable. You squirmed in the sheets and yawned.

‘Mi tesoro?’

‘Mm… Mm?’

Something warm nudged your cheek, and at last you opened your eyes.

Your body was being nested on by Mig, with his spider half carefully cradling your body against his abdomen while his human half bent forward to plank over your head. His hands were on either side of your shoulders, and his nose was tenderly nuzzling your cheek.

As he watched your eyes open, his own eyes wrinkled up with joy. ‘Mi tesoro’ he whispered, for the third and final time. You gave him a sleepy smile.

‘Oh, Miggy—g’morning handsome.’

You leaned up and awkwardly nuzzled back. His response was endlessly sweet. The way his eyes instinctively closed upon feeling your touch, the way that huge, gruff man purred and vibrated with joy to feel you close. He pressed a few stray kisses to your cheek and nose before pulling back.

‘I, apologize for waking you’ he said gently. ‘But we are expected back at the HQ today, and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.’

You grumbled a little as you rubbed sleep from your eyes. Even that mundane activity seemed to have Mig fixated, as his wide red eyes darted over every little moment you made. He continued to rustle with joy.

‘Ah—shit, sorry, I forgot about that. Thanks for waking me up.’

‘No need to thank me, arañita. It’s the least I can do. It, does make me sad though. You look so content.’

‘You’re not watching me while I sleep, are you?’ you mumbled midway through wiping the left side of your face, fixing him with a one-eyed stare. Mig just rustled harder.

‘When, I am not sleeping? Yes. I watch you. Should I not?’

‘You just sit in bed and watch me sleep?’

‘Mhm.’ He nodded hard and bent closer, leaning his folded arms across your chest so he could address you properly. ‘Of course. You always look so peaceful, it is—nice, to see. Also, I want to be there when you wake. I, like when you do that little smile, when you see me.’

You unintentionally did just that, offering him a soft half smile in mild exasperation over his soppy romantic talk. He rustled harder in response. ‘Mm. Yes. Like that’ he murmured affectionately.

‘My god—you big, beautiful idiot—’ You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his upper torso, awkwardly hugging what you could grab. He quietly closed his eyes and relished in the touch.

‘Mmm… I will miss you today, mi am—mi tesoro’ he whispered, almost slipping out a ‘mi amor’ before catching himself. You chuckled.

‘I’ll miss you too, Mig. Mm—so, do we have time for anything? Breakfast, maybe, or—’

Mig pulled back from the hug to nod. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat before you leave, arañita. I have the fire going already.’

‘My god, so organised!’ As you slowly shifted up in the sheets Mig carefully withdrew his spider form, allowing you space to move. He noticed the way you were stretching out your sore limbs, his eyes fixed on the little bite marks covering your naked body. He felt the hair beginning to stand up on his abdomen and quickly tried to brush it down.

‘Aha—well, I need to make sure you’re cared for. It’s my pleasure’ he said, obviously speaking quickly to cover for his own arousal. You noticed his garbled manner of speech but decided not to tease him on it. The poor man was smitten, and he knew it well. You knew he felt bad for just how sexually needy he was, and especially for how much he gawked at you.

‘You sure you don’t want me to go get it?’ you asked. He watched you swing your legs over the edge of the mattress as you stretched out your back and arms. ‘I can—’

‘No! No. You stay warm here, you—I can, see you’re still a bit sore’ Mig said, physically barrelling over to block your way off the bed. You giggled and fell back into the sheets, a sign of mercy.

‘Okay! Okay. I’ll stay here.’

He purred with approval as you sank into the white silk, admiring how it looked against your skin. ‘Mm. Thank you. I’ll be right back’ he promised, and with that he disappeared into the earthy tunnels.

He was quick, thankfully, as you’d barely pulled on your underwear by the time he returned. He lay down a clay wood fired mug and a plate of food twice the size of what you realistically needed to eat at your feet. It was your favourite breakfast, one that he’d tried his best to lay out neatly despite his huge hands and cumbersome claws. He must have noticed your eyes widening at the sight as he let out another soft chuckle.

‘You need to eat, mi tesoro’ he said as he sank into the mattress beside you.

‘This much?’

‘After what I put you through? Yes. That much. Eat, please.’

You felt a slight warmth in your face at the reminder of your state, covered in hand marks and claw marks and teeth marks with a body that was saturated with the scent of his rutting musk.

‘Okay’ you conceded as you grabbed the plate. ‘Okay, okay. Thanks, Mig.’

‘You’re most welcome’ he purred.

You settled down into a peaceful silence. He’d grabbed whatever dried venison was left as he peaceful tearing that to shreds while you ate against the comfort of his side, your head nestled into the soft, thick fur of his abdomen as you chewed.

He finished far quicker than you did and turned to blowing on your mug before handing it to you, ensuring you didn’t get burnt. It almost made you feel guilty, just how attentive he was. You ate through as much as you could until you physically couldn’t fit any more into your stomach.

‘Urgh—Miggy I’m trying to finish this but I don’t think I can’ you groaned. He glanced from your face to the plate.

‘Mm… You are, full?’

‘Mhm. Very much so.’

‘Mm… Okay. I trust you.’ He bent to kiss your forehead before moving the plate out of the way.

‘Is this like a special occasion?’ you asked. ‘Is that why you’re feeding me so much?’

He shook his head as he leant back into you, relishing the little time he had left before you had to get ready. ‘No, no special occasion.’

‘Not uh—celebrating the ending of the rut?’ you teased.

‘Mm, that would be funny, but—no. I just wanted to make sure you were well fed.’

‘Have you got like a… like a, fetish, for it, or something? Is it like the hormone smelling?’ you teased.

He pondered what was meant to be a lightheaded joke quite seriously, as he always did, lightly tapping his spider feet as he mulled over his thoughts. ‘I… Don’t think so’ he eventually replied. ‘I certainly have instinctual desires to keep you will cared for, but, not in a sexual way. The guarding, the feeding. I’ve always wanted to take care of you. It makes me content, if not aroused.’

You smiled as he went through his deadpan explanation, his soft eyes darting over your face as he spoke.

‘Ooh, okay. Your brain’s tryna fatten me up for babies, huh?’

He let out a gruff chuckle as you nestled into his side.

‘Yes. I suppose so. If we ever try to, successfully breed I promise I will keep you as full as possible. I’ll let you eat while I mate if I have to’ he teased.

‘I mean that could be fun’ you teased back. You saw him pondering the idea.

‘There is, I suppose, something arousing about the idea of watching you, indulge while I’m at your back’ he said, his eyes dreamy and distant. You caught his abdomen rustling again. ‘It feeds into that, part of me that feels gratification from distracting you so that I may, finish.’

‘Freaky spider’ you whispered playfully. He smiled back.

‘Mm. You will not get me with that, tesoro. You are just as sexually unusual as I am.’

‘W—excuse me?!’

Your fake, dramatic shock drew him to chuckle again, and this time he went further. He suddenly dove at you on the mattress, knocking the plate and half empty mug to the floor.

‘H-HEY!’

He easily pinning you beneath his enormous spider form, pressing you down into the sheets as his human hands grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

‘M-Mig?’ you stammered.

‘Mmm, you want to tell me this does not excite you?’ he teased. You squirmed beneath him as the great weight of his furry abdomen pressed on your body, rendering it totally immobile. As you panted he purred.

‘This, arachnid monster does not stir something inside you, hm? You wish to tell me that?’ he murmured, his voice husky and deep. You felt a soft pulsing in your stomach as he held you down.

‘M-Mig—’

‘You do like that, don’t you?’ he whispered. He bent until his lips hit your ear, and he continued to assault you with sweet, husky words. ‘You like this.’

You felt his spider legs at his side, gently probing at your waist and hips. He felt the thick fur and the strange, unknowable body beneath it moving over your own, crushing and grinding into it with feverish intent. You felt him rustling, vibrating. You felt his hot breath on your neck, stirring the hairs on your nape and the slowly healing bite marks on your shoulder.

You let out a soft, involuntary whine. He felt it run through you.

‘Mmm… You like this’ he whispered again.

‘I-I do’ you panted.

He pulled back and gently extended his foreleg towards your face, letting the fuzz brush your lips. You obediently kissed it.

‘Mm…’ The sigh that rattled through his chest was endlessly content. That sight was like heaven to him, and as he leant back towards you, he returned the favour. He kissed your jaw, your cheek, then your lips, before whispering into your ear once more.

‘I am… far, from the, scared little creature you met’ he said. ‘The, insecure beast. And I have you, to thank for that.’

Despite your excitement you felt a flush of warmth in your chest as he spoke. It was a kind reminder that your sexual escapades, while fun, had a very real emotional weight behind them. This poor man he’d convinced himself he was unlovable, and your body had shown him the opposite was true. He was so lovable. He was so wanted.

For all the breeding talk and messy rooms, for all the soaked sheets, it was almost beautiful.

‘Beautiful man’ you whispered back. He released your hands so that you could hug him tight, and as you gripped him you felt his back muscles heaving beneath your palms. That sweet, gentle giant. He nestled into your neck with a moan.

‘Mi tesoro’ he purred into your neck. ‘Tú eres perfecta. Mi cosita perfecta. Quiero comerte, arañita. ¿Quieres comerme?’

‘You—oh, okay, I got it. Yes’ you whispered, half joking. ‘Yes, I’d absolutely love to eat you.’

You emphasised your point with a little clack of your teeth.

Mig pulled back and showed you his half-narrowed eyes. They were deep, bloody, almost dangerously passionate. He moved his hand and used it to draw your own up to his lips, and with the most tender care he licked your index finger. His tongue was warm.

‘Que rico’ he purred, his eyes fixed on your face. You felt a full body shudder rise up through your spine.

‘Mig—’ you barely got his name out before your lips were locked. All that could escape the ravenous approach of his tongue into your mouth was a desperate moan, one that he eagerly ate up.

‘Mm—Mm—!’

You parted hard only when his watch started vibrating. Mig fought to quiet its deafening beeps with a string of saliva still hanging between your lips.

‘Ah—my apologies, arañita, that—’

‘We gotta get going, right?’

He somberly nodded. ‘Yes. Apologizes, again, I—’ Mig went silent as you abruptly kissed him again, leaving one tender peck on his lips.

‘You’re all good. I’ll see you later, okay?’ you whispered. His sweet skin darkened into an auburn red beneath your affection gaze. He had to swallow hard before speaking.

‘Ah, yes. Please. I would, like that.’

Without another word you both began to get ready. You dragged on your suit while Mig struggled into a shirt, having still not quite got the hang of this whole clothing thing. You ended up having to finish his buttons for him when he grew agitated with the fickleness of slipping these tiny little nubs through such tiny little holes.

‘So, you uh—you’re, meeting with him today, right?’ you said halfway through finishing his final button.

Mig’s patient smile faltered a little, and you felt that familiar tension in the air.

It was the first time that he had been brought up since the day he’d come to your den, since his apology and attempted reconciliation through helping to define whether your genes were at odds with each other. It was clear that certain things still remained unsaid about the whole situation.

After everything that’d happened with Miguel, including his apology, you’d all been stuck in a kind of limbo regarding how you felt about each other. This also hadn’t been helped by the fact that you hadn’t seen him since the incident. You’d agreed to not let your paths cross while still rutting to avoid ruining the good will you’d briefly built, and now everything felt a little strange and precarious.

‘Yes’ Mig said slowly as he watched you work. ‘Yes, he—requested today that we go over the early plans for this experiment. He, sent a message about it while you were sleeping.’

You mindlessly found yourself fiddling with his shirt as you pondered how to respond. ‘Okay. So—how, are you feeling about that?’

Mig shrugged. ‘It is… strange. But, I don’t really know how to describe it. I suppose I am, tentative. But I am not angry. How about you, arañita?’

You shrugged back. It was hard to put all of your feelings into words. ‘Ah�� I mean, I trust him. I do. It feels weird but, I trust that he is being honest, I trust that he can’t lie, and… you know.’

You saw Mig’s lip curl, but you couldn’t tell why. Your hands went to his flank for comfort.

‘We’re okay, right?’ you said quietly. To your surprise Mig nodded immediately.

‘Yes. Yes, of course. This has nothing to do with you, Arañita. Just—my relationship with you, it is… a comfort. My relationship with him, it is… a burden. I just don’t know how to trust him anymore, but, I can’t turn down this opportunity. It is, too important for us.’

You squeezed his hand as silence fell, letting you both stew in your thoughts. You hoped it would bring some clarity but as the minutes passed you could feel Mig getting restless, as his fur began to bristle and his feet began to tap. You decided it would probably be best if you both just got to work.

‘Well… You wanna get going then?’ you asked.

Mig nodded and slowly rose from the mattress, his leg outstretched to help you up. You stumbled to your feet with his fur clutched in your fists.

‘Okay. Well… let’s get to it’ you said, and swung open a portal back to the HQ.

…

Despite your reservations you decided to accompany Mig up to Miguel’s office and lab.

It was nice to be back in the HQ in this state. You were no longer hobbling about in that awkward, slightly stilted stance, and Mig was no longer utterly fixed to your side like a guard dog.

He was certainly guarding you, to be fair, just not as aggressively. You still smelled like him though.

Outside it was clear and bright. As you ascended to the top of the building you got to enjoy the warmth of the sun beating through the huge glass walls, a nice departure from the misty solitude of the forest, and you caught Miguel basking in the warmth in the elevator once or twice.

It was ever so sweet. He seemed to really enjoy vicariously being part of society, even from behind the walls of the HQ, safely separated from the people. You knew he liked to take breaks on the big pillars where the sun came through and lounge like a cat, basking in the warmth until his fur was hot to the touch.

Sadly though, today he’d be descending into the dark. You both made your way in silence through the upper tunnels into Miguel’s office.

In here it was eerie and dark. The light was dim in these winding corridors, with the walls jagged and mismatched, seemingly unfinished, and the floor covered in half-finished poorly constructed tech. You had to hop over half of it to get through, and Mig struggled to not get his fur stuck on the junk attached to the walls.

You could sense Mig getting nervous. His paws kept tapping in ways that belied a prey animal warning off its enemy, trying to sound bigger than it was, and every time you brushed him, he seemed to flinch. You ended up taking his hand in yours as you ventured further.

You made your way through into the enormous, cavern-like space of his interior office, and there he was.

Miguel was standing atop his floating desk, his back turned towards you and his hands outstretched. He appeared to be filing through a hundred tabs at once. In the darkness the screens were the only light, and their orange hue gave fine definition to his sculpted torso.

He looked tense, you thought. Not as tense as before, but still tense. He must be focusing hard.

Your echoing footsteps were the only thing to stir him. Yours were normal, but with Mig at your back it must have sounded like a whole group of people had just entered. Miguel glared over his shoulder. You caught him preparing what kind of tone he’d adopt, depending on who’d just entered his domain.

When he saw it was you, he panicked. You saw his eyes widen, his shoulders hunching hard as he struggled to clear his desk.

‘You—Ay, ¡chingado!’ he hissed under his breath.

You blinked. It was surprising, to say the least, to be greeted in such a way. His concern was immediately odd; usually he met you both with hostility or avoidance.

You and Mig came to a stop as he abruptly leapt from his floating office, not bothering to wait until it’d landed safely. The sound his body made when it hit the floor was terrifying.

‘You didn’t think to knock?’ he said as he approached. You eyed him up as he brushed himself down. You could feel the tension in the air like a chokehold; nobody knew how the other was supposed to act, how you were all supposed to talk.

You opted to just act as you usually would.

‘There’s no door, Miguel’ you drawled. He watched as you turned and gestured with both arms to the entrance of his office.

In silence he darted his eyes from the door to you. Slowly, his hands came down to rest on his sharp, small hips.

‘Mm. Yeah. I uh—I forgot, about that’ he said slowly.

Again, another surprising response.

Already you could feel the difference. He still had a bit of that edge, that tinted veil of short-tempered aggravation, but he seemed calmer. You could sense something beneath it now. A man who was trying to be stoic while secretly juggling a lot of feelings. An insecure, conflicted man. A man who cared about being good, about seeming kind, even with a short temper.

When he turned to you again his face was a little less stern. You could see the old, tired lines beneath his eyes and around his forehead, but his eyes seemed wider.

‘You, uh—you, okay?’ you asked awkwardly. Miguel seemed to notice your hesitancy, but you couldn’t tell how he felt about it. Was he upset? He did seem a little sad you were still being so quiet, so professional.

‘I’m as good as I can be’ he said, noting the absolute mess around his office. ‘Are uh- are you, okay?’

‘Ah, y-yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m, good’ you replied. You saw him raise an eyebrow.

‘Ahuh. So, can we stop making small talk now, please? It’s unnerving. I feel like I’m going crazy. Please just insult me and get us back on track.’

You baulked a little at his abruptness, though you quickly began to appreciate him for it. You were acting weird, much too weird, and you didn’t want to do that. You were weirdly grateful to hear him be both forward and nonchalant.

It said everything you needed it to say right now, just, quietly.

‘Okay. Sure. Your office is disgusting, and your know-it-all attitude is unbearable’ you replied with a shrug.

To your surprise you saw him bite down a smile, almost like he was ashamed of it. ‘Mhm. There we go. Better.’

He turned from you to Mig and coughed, straightening himself out before addressing his variant. Mig was staring him down.

‘So. You… came’ he said slowly.

Mig just stared back. For one horrible, awkward moment he refused to speak.

‘In… I—what, are you referring to? Do you mean in the, slang tense, or—my physical arrival?’ Mig asked.

Almost instantly Miguel returned to his usual aggravated expression. ‘Showing up, the—the physical arrival, of course I meant the physical arrival, you—ay cabrón—’

‘I’ve learned that came is a word with multiple meanings’ Mig argued back. ‘I didn’t want to reply under an assumption—’

‘WHY WOULD I BRING IT UP IN THAT CONTEXT—No, no, calm, calm—’ Miguel turned and forced himself to face the wall, whispering in a mantra that you could only barely hear. ‘Tranquilo, tranquilo, todo bien, todo bien—’

When he turned back around, he was pinching the space between his brows.

‘Okay. Okay.’ He lowered his hand and held it out in front of him, stiff and sharp. ‘I was saying, I am surprised you showed up here, but I am… glad.’

Mig let out a low clicking noise as his eyes darted across Miguel’s body. The tension was still there, yes, but it seemed to be slowly dissipating in the face of pure awkwardness. You watched as Mig then clumsily held out his own stiff hand in front of his variants, almost as if about to shake hands, though without any contact.

‘Yes. I am, here to help’ Mig proudly proclaimed.

You thought you saw a physical vein pop in Miguel’s head. He quickly retracted his hand.

‘Dios mio—Okay, well, I guess I should just, get right to it.’

Miguel turned and clicked his fingers. In response, a wide, holographic board materialized before you, one that already displayed numerous overlapping theoretical equations and multi-verse diagrams. Just the sight of it made your head spin, but Mig approached it without a shred of fear.

‘Mm. Is this your, current work?’ Mig asked.

‘Yes, well—it’s my old multiverse work’ Miguel noted. He waved his hand on the corner of the board, allowing the holographic notes to be smudged away. ‘I’ve added a few notes over the past few days, when they came to me, but its incredibly underdeveloped.’

‘Yes. I can see that’ Mig replied.

Again, you saw Miguel’s eye twitch with irritation. He wiped it aside and continued.

‘So.. I may, give input on this, to you?’ Mig asked, his claws gesturing to the work. Mig nodded again. He looked strained, clearly he wasn’t looking forward to receiving any kind of criticism or input, but he allowed it.

Mig nodded in response, and after a few minutes gawking at the board, they began their discussion.

As the two men began debating logistics you waddled awkwardly in the back. You didn’t exactly feel helpful here. This was all far above your paygrade, these two genetic engineers at the top of their respective field waving their enormous brains around like it was nothing.

You tended to forget Mig’s backstory when it was just you and him at home. You forgot that he was a scientist once, and that at heart he still was.

You could see it now though, and despite feeling a little left out, it was comforting. It was nice to see Mig looking so comfortable and at home, back in his element as he followed Miguel’s ramblings without delay or pause.

Miguel, too, looked a little more comfortable. It seemed that talking work was a bridge that eased all of his social awkwardness. If he could just talk business, especially with someone who understood, he could just about pass as normal for a bit.

After all, Mig didn’t demand jokes or take breaks to make snide comments. He was flat, calm, to the point. For the first time you saw why they were variants of each other. They were both massive, very attractive nerds.

You slowly began to back up as the two started raising their voices in tandem.

‘Hey, I uh—I, best get going, it—’

‘Oh, Arañita!’

Mig turned as you spoke, though he seemed to have not noticed that you were leaving. He rushed over and gently lay a foreleg against your chest.

‘Mi tesoro, I think we will be quite busy in here today. I know I promised to leave and visit for lunch, but, would you be okay coming here?’

You blinked in surprise. ‘Ah—ah, yeah, of course. I mean I can leave you two to just work on it if—’

‘No, please, come by later’ Miguel called over his shoulder. ‘Otherwise I won’t stop, and I don’t need Jess on my ass all over again about eating healthy or skipping meals.’

‘Oh! That is a good idea. Arañita, you could bring some food from the cafeteria? And we can eat here together. I’ll wire you the cost through your watch, I’ll make sure it’s enough that you can get your favourite’ Mig suggested.

You felt your chest flutter a little beneath his sincere expression. He was smiling at you without a care, his fluffy foreleg placed right over your heart so he could feel it thudding.

‘Aha, well—sure. Sure. I’ll, bring food up and make sure you guys get a break. Just ah—don’t kill each other in the mean time’ you said, and though you whispered the last part as a joke Miguel snorted in response.

‘I can’t kill him, unfortunately. If I want to do this atom test I’ll need his legs to hold it steady. Until then he’s collateral equipment’ he called back. You rolled your eyes.

‘My god, what a charmer. Okay, well, in that case… I’ll, see you soon, okay Mig?’

Mig purred and bent down to kiss your forehead. ‘Yes. I will see you soon, mi Arañita. Stay safe.’

‘You too big guy. Get out there and ah, well… I guess, figure out how we can combine our genetics. So romantic.’

You took one final moment with your foreheads pressed together, breathing in the moment, before reluctantly parting. You returned to the HQ to work on being a lower rank superhero, and the two Miguel’s convened over the plan to continue their work.

Perhaps this would work out. Perhaps, this would be okay.

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