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clandestineloki · 9 months

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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p3)

[based off of a request where a kind anon asked me 2 write one where he snapped at her, tweaked it a little bit so he's actually not mad at her but more concerned, it just came off in the wrong way]

tw: mentions of blood and wounds from shards, suggestive bit at the end

miguel whos just gotten out of the nice warm bath you made for him

having put on a tight white shirt and sweatpants, drying his hair when he hears a something breaking in the kitchen followed by a scream

he rushes to the kitchen where his dimensional jump watch is on the ground in pieces, debris all over

and you're kneeling over it, trying to pick up the bigger pieces

"shit!" he yells, kneeling down and surveying the damage. "get away from that!"

"i'm sorry!" you cry, clearly shaken. "i-it was on the table and i hit it with my elbow-"

"i know- please don't- just let me-" miguel tries to gently usher you away, but you shake your head.

"it's my fault," you cut him off. "i'll clean it up-"

"I SAID GET AWAY! THIS COULD EXPLODE SO LET ME FUCKING HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!"

it stuns you into complete silence, making you flinch away and lean against the kitchen counter.

miguel sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"sorry." miguel says bluntly without looking up. "just- fuck- the last time this happened it broke my nose so don't touch anything-"

he pieces the parts of the watch together, brows furrowing when he sees the tiny projector panel is missing. "what? where's the-"

shaky hands place two broken pieces of the projector panel in his hands

his brows furrow when he sees there are specks of blood on your palms

and he realizes you were trying to fix it on your own :((

he looks up and you're staring up at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as your breathing quickens and the tears stream down your cheeks.

"i-i'm sorry," you whisper, and his heart shatters

"amor-"

before he can react you stand up and flee to the bathroom

"oh no," miguel leaves the watch pieces right there on the floor and follows you

he finds you at the sink

running your hands through warm water as you cry quietly

miguel feels immense guilt for yelling at you

he wraps his arms around you from behind as he looks at you in the mirror

"bebita," he whispers. "let me help you..."

you're still looking down, avoiding his gaze, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"bebita, i'm sorry," he mumbled. "i was scared you'd get hurt, i didn't mean to yell at you..."

you sniffle, turning off the tap. "i messed up."

"we all do," he whispers. "i messed up too, you didn't deserve that, you were just trying to help."

you shake your head, turning to face him and showing him your palms filled with cuts. "yeah, n' look what happened."

"you think too lowly of yourself, cariño," he lifts you up on the counter, taking the first aid kit from the drawer and fishing out the tweezers, some cotton and some rubbing alcohol.

he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm not mad at you for this. i want you to know that. i had no right acting like a jackass."

you laugh softly through tears, and he smiles sadly, taking your left hand and looking for your injuries

the next few minutes are completely silent as miguel picks out the tiny shards from your palms

he kisses each palm when he's done, then pours some alcohol on a cotton ball.

"bebita, this might sting a bit. take a deep breath for me."

you start sobbing, and he looks up at you.

"bebita, i haven't even put the alcohol-"

"i'm sorry," you whimper, crying harder, and his heart breaks again.

"amor," he leans in, brushing stray hair away from your face and thumbing at your tears.

"you're very pretty even when you cry, but please don't be sad..."

miguel pulls you into a hug and you let it all out while he shushes you softly, kissing your hair and whispering words of love

patiently waiting for you to come back to him, wiping away your tears and sniffling, looking up at him with a tentative expression.

miguel smiles. "there she is," he mumbles, kissing you sweetly. "nobody's mad anymore, i know you meant well, you always do."

he kisses your nose. "i love you."

"love you too," you whisper, and he smiles.

"do you want to watch a movie with me while i clean you up?"

"mhm."

"your pick, amor. anything you want, anything-"

"can we watch top gun?"

"no."

"but you said it was my choice!"

"anything but that! you know i hate top gun!"

"we watch top gun or im not cooking paella for a month"

"BEBITA POR DIOS!"

you giggle and he sighs.

"fine. you're lucky you're the love of my life... and that i dont know how to cook my own paella."

"how about this?" miguel lifts you up in a princess carry.

"i'll watch top gun with you WITHOUT complaining if you promise to never let me yell at you like that again."

you look at him in confusion. "but-"

"promise me." he whispers.

"okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "i promise."

"good. and remind me to eat you out more often im forgetting how good you taste ;)"

"MIGUEL!!"

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader

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famwhy · 10 months

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Bereavement

noun

/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader

Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?

part two.

You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.

You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.

He was in the wrong universe.

Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.

Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.

The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.

All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.

"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"

With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.

The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—

—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.

"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."

"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.

"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."

You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.

"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."

You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.

"Miles! I'm here to—"

As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.

Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?

Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.

"...save you?"

They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.

Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.

The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.

"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.

"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.

You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."

"Don't worry about me! You have to—"

"Cariño."

You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?

"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.

"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"

Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.

Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.

"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."

"Wha—?"

"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."

You and your Miles shared a glance.

You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.

You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.

"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."

The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.

"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."

If what he was saying was true... then—?

"Y/N!"

Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.

"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.

"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"

You nodded.

Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.

"Miles—!"

"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."

You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.

It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.

One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—

—you were falling.

"Y/N!"

(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.

First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.

At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).

Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.

Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)

#miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #female reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #miles morales prowler #earth 42 miles morales

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natalievoncatte · 6 days

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The palm-print panel was cool under Lena’s touch. She pressed her hand to the rectangular plate next to her front door and waited for the brief moment it needed to scan her skin. The door unlocked with a meaty thump and she pushed it open with her other hand, absently checking her phone as she stepped inside. As the system scanned her biometrics, it detected stress and dimmed the lights, automatically turned on the television to an abstract screen saver with cool tones, and began to play an arrangement for a violins to soothe her nerves.

She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where she skipped the countertop wine cellar and pulled out the half-empty box of Trader Joe’s vintage that she’d taken a liking to thanks to Kara. She pours herself half a tumbler full as a silent fuck you to her mother and took a swig, then walked out into her living room to sit down in the gloom for a few minutes and think.

Supergirl was sitting on her couch, head flopped back over the back so that her hair fanned out across the white leather. She sat splayed with her knees apart and legs out, arms resting on her thighs. Lena wasn’t sure if she was awake.

As she drew closer, she caught a small gasp. Supergirl had a black eye, and there were scrapes on her cheeks and the backs of her hands, the blood barely crusted. Both her hands and her face were bruised and she had a tiny split in her lip.

Lena placed the wine on the table, nerves jangling when the bottom rattled against the pale marble from the shaking of her hand. Her heart raced as she drew closer. Supergirl had taken off her cape and draped it over the couch. It was none the worse for wear but was covered in scorch marks.

Suoergirl’s broad chest heaved once and she let out a long, pained sigh.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Supergirl.”

She let out a little laugh, wincing. “Do we need be so formal?”

“I don’t have anything else to call you,” Lena said, coolly. “Mind if I ask why you’re in my apartment?”

“You don’t lock the balcony doors. You should.”

Lena sighed and folded her arms. “I said why, not how.”

Supergirl didn’t look at her.

“I just got the snot beaten out of me. Everything hurts.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

How was it possible? Curiosity tugged at her, but concern shot through it, making her fidget with her hands. Lena hated fidgeting. It made her look weak, and she could still remember the pain when Lillian cracked the ruler across her knuckles to break the habit.

“Can I have some wine?”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Sure,” she said.

She went to the kitchen and poured. When she returned to the living room, Supergirl was sitting up, hunched forward and leaning on he knees. Lena started a little at the sight. Sitting that way displayed the wide, muscular set of her shoulders and arms, especially her meaty biceps. Her back was a rare sight -she wore a cape, after all- and just as exquisitely muscled.

She was looking at her hands, at the damage to her muscles. Lena offered the glass and she took it. Her fingers were warm when they brushed against Lena’s, strangely soft.

Supergirl took a long pull of wine and smacked her lips, then winced.

“It’s times like this I wish I could get drunk.”

“You can’t?”

“Not on wine and not for very long.”

“Interesting.”

“So I have a problem,” Supergirl said. She was still looking at her hands.

“And that is?”

“I have to call off work tomorrow. These will heal, and I’ll look exactly the same. I don’t get scars anymore. But they’ll be visible for a day or so.”

“I see.”

“But I have to get brunch with someone, and they’ll be able to tell. Concealer won’t do much for this.” She touched her eye, wincing.

“Wait here,” said Lena.

She came back a moment later with some wash clothes soaked in cold water on a tray. Hands still shaking a little as she placed it on the table. Tenderly, she took one of the washcloths and dabbed the back of Supergirl’s hands, cleaning away the grime and dried blood from the abrasions.

Supergirl sighed. “That feels good. Thank you.”

“May I?” said Lena.

Supergirl hesitated, doubt flashing deep within the endless depths of her blue eyes, but she turned to Lena and tilted up her chin. With shaking fingers, Lena cupped Supergirl’s face gently and used a fresh cloth to clean and cool the cut on her lip. Supergirl closed her eyes and sighed.

Lena’s eyes wandered up, to the small mark above her eye.

“You don’t scar. Did you get that on Krypton?”

“Yes. I slipped and fell when I was a little girl. You should have seen me. I bled all over.”

“Must be nice, not getting hurt anymore. Not feeling pain.”

“I still feel it.”

Lena paused.

“I feel every bullet and blow and bomb blast just like anyone would,” said Supergirl. Just because it doesn’t harm me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” said Supergirl.

She opened her eyes -eye- and looked at Lena reverently, one pretty blue eye glittering while the other remained bruised shut. She smiled a lopsided, honest smile, looked at Lena in a dreamy, almost adoring way that-

Wait.

“Oh my God,” Lena breathed.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lena whispered. “Oh my God, what happened, how did this happen to you? You’re hurt!”

“I had a tough time with a very determined alien and had to worry about civilians,” said Kara. “It happens.”

Lena’s pulse raced and her breath quickened. Her gaze darted, searching and noticing every detail. She was so beautiful, and she was so Kara.

“Why now?” said Lena. “Why this time?”

“I don’t know.”

Lena bit her lip, and the tiny gesture had a noticeable impact on Kara. Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to Lena’s bottom lip, then flicked back up.

“So your brunch,” said Lena. “That was with me.”

“Yeah. I thought about cancelling but I can’t. I needed to see you now.”

Lena shifted closer on the couch, until they were hip to hip.

“Why?”

“Because I just got punched in the head by an alien with big stupid bone spurs coming out of his fist and I need to see you. I won, by the way. It was really cool. I ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground and hit him with it.”

Lena looked her up and down. Her jaw began to quiver.

“Oh God. Is it worse than it looks? Are you hurt worse than you look, Kara? Are you…”

Kara shook her head, then winced. “No. Not that bad, promise. I just…” she sighed. “I’m tired of going to lay on a sunbed and going back to my empty apartment and spend a sick day napping on the couch.”

Lena let out a slow breath. “So you came to see me.”

“Yuuup,” Kara said, slowly.

Lena shifted awkwardly in her seat. Kara slowly reached over with her now clean hand and curled her fingers around Lena’s chin.

“Lena?” she whispered. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

Kara turned and leaned into her, pressing the slightest, lightest kiss to Lena’s lips, not a quick peck but something slow and soft, warm and inviting.

“Ow,” Kara muttered.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

“I have any idea. Since I can’t make brunch… how about breakfast?”

Lena leaned against her, gently draping her arms around her as they fell back into the soft cushions together.

“Okay.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #supercorp fluff #tooth rotting fluff #so much fluff #total fluff #fluffalicious #here at Natalie’s fluff depot we have all the fluff you could ever want

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

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Bee Stings and Butterfly Kisses || SV5

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x wife!reader Summary: Your husband takes nesting to a whole new level with the paradise he’s found to start his family. Warnings: established relationship, pregnant!reader, fluffiness WC: 1.4k

The property Sebastian had chosen to raise his children upon was everything you could have dreamt of and more. There were rolling meadows full of fragrant flowers, forests of conifers and evergreens, and even a lake with an abundance of trout. The house he had designed was built using recycled material and was sustainable to run with the dozens of solar panels on the roof. He had truly future proofed everything to live a life as environmentally friendly as possible.

“Did you know honey is the only food that doesn’t spoil if you store it properly?” Sebastian barely looked up from the old set of drawers he was upcycling into an apiary. “There were pots of honey found in ancient tombs in Egypt, around 3000 years old.”

“I still don't see why we need bees at our home.”

“Because, my love,” he said as he placed his hammer down and pulled you into his arms, “this is our future we are building. Without bees there’s no pollination, with no pollination there’s no flowers, or fruit and vegetables.” His hand splayed across your swollen belly, feeling his son’s kicks against his palm with a smile. “It’s our responsibility to protect our future.”

The outdoor sofa where you were reading was a current favourite place of yours. It was tranquil and warm and allowed you to get off your feet for a little bit while your husband pottered around in the garden. With only a few weeks to your due date everything ached from your neck to your ankles so you kicked your feet up and listened to the birdsong.

The hiss of pain was one you had come to know well recently and it only took a minute for Seb to appear at the edge of the garden, the metal gate squeaking on its rusted hinge. He cupped one hand over his cheek, one eye closed with a wince as he ascended the stairs to the deck.

“You wouldn’t get stung if you used the smoke, love,” you softly reminded him as he took a seat and pulled his hand away. “Oh dear, that’s a big one.”

“We don’t know the long term effect the smoke has on them, it could be poisoning them,” he said as he turned his head so you could use your nails to pull the stinger out without squeezing more toxin into his cheek. “They will recognise me soon and realise I’m not going to hurt them.”

“If you say so.” You loved your husband but you weren’t so sold on the trust building exercise he found himself in. More often than not after going to check the beehive you found yourself in this position, grateful he wasn’t allergic. “How is your queen doing?”

His lips pulled up into a smile and he sat down on the edge of the seat, pulling your feet onto his lap and massaging your swollen ankles. “You tell me, my sweet, how are you doing?”

Emotions swelled in your chest and you cursed as he laughed, leaning closer to wipe away the tear that escaped. “Damn these hormones. You should really stop being so nice so my poor tear ducts can have a break. Can’t you just be a jerk?” His laugh grew and with it the kicks increased. “Yes, yes, daddy’s laughing at me.”

“I would never laugh at your mother,” he chuckled, lifting your shirt to press his lips to your belly. Stretch marks littered the skin and you dared not to think about the other changes that you couldn’t see below the swell, but he still made you feel beautiful. “Everything she is going through is my fault.”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a smile. “Daddy spent a lot of time romancing and seducing me, and now here you are.”

Seb looked up, his long hair hanging in naturally soft waves around his face. “How could I not? You were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I could hardly concentrate on the race after seeing you.”

“It couldn't have affected you too much,” you said as you tucked his hair behind his ear, “you still won.”

“I had to make a good impression somehow, since I could barely speak a word when we were introduced,” he admitted as he looked out over the garden he tendered.

You followed his gaze knowing he was going to be a great father considering the care he gave to the garden, and you. “It was your eyes I fell for anyway, they looked sweet and kind.”

The rows of plants were just flowering and you traced them to see the little bursts of yellows that all too soon would become bright red ripe tomatoes. Next were the beans, too many varieties to count, all climbing the trellis Seb had made from the wood of fallen trees in the forest. Further beyond were your favourites, the bushes that were brimming with berries of every flavour. Each morning you would amble your way to them with Seb and a bowl, pointing out the juiciest looking berries for him to pick for your smoothie.

Patting his good cheek, you shuffled to sit up and swing your legs off the couch.

“Where are you going?”

With a groan you pulled yourself to your feet and rubbed the straining skin at your sides. “To get some ice to stop that swelling,” you said as you pointed to his face. “You need to be able to see properly if you are thinking about getting back in a race car this weekend.”

“I can get it, you rest.” He followed you into the house even after catching the roll of your eyes and watched you struggle to bend down to reach the ice tray at the bottom of the freezer. Unable to stop himself, his hands caught your waist and straightened you up before he grabbed the tray. “I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said with a kiss to your temple.

“I said the same thing, but you still went and got stung.”

“But that’s because I have you to kiss me better.”

You smiled at the softness in his tone and gave him the gentlest of kisses to his swollen cheek, barely the touch of a butterfly's wing. “There, is that better?”

“Yes, I don’t even need this anymore,” he said as he turned to put the tray away until you stopped him with an amused look.

“Nurburgring,” you reminded him, grabbing a tea towel to wrap the ice cubes in.

He had been excited since he got the call from Christian Horner to drive the historic track, and in a car modified to run on eco-friendly fuel no less. He was not going to do anything to miss the opportunity to return to the racetrack, even though he enjoyed retirement and the quiet life he had built in the rural settlement. So, he quietly accepted the ice pack and carefully pressed it to his cheek.

“It’s a dangerous track, Seb,” you murmured as you took over holding it, cradling his other cheek with your palm. “Please be safe and come home in one piece.”

His hands came to rest on your stomach, nearly covering it all as he splayed his fingers apart. “Of course, my love. And you need to stay in one piece until I get home.”

You giggled and felt the strong kick responding to his voice. “I have a feeling your son will take his time. Would you resort to one of those dreadful planes if he decides to come early?”

His lips twitched in amusement, used to your jibing over the consciousness of his carbon footprint. “I could probably drive home faster, with a few speeding tickets along the way, but I might be able to lower myself to boarding a plane for him.”

“Ah, that’s a father’s love,” you giggled. “He doesn’t even know what a sacrifice that would be.”

Sebastian lowered the ice pack so he could dip his head and kiss you. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the two of you.”

“Except get rid of the bees.”

His lips curled against yours in a smile you felt. “Except that.”

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #Sebastian Vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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somerandomdudelmao · 9 months

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Okay okay hear me out.

We all know that Donnie was devastated to discover what happened to his brothers. But in light of the most recent update, new meaning has been added to the panels of him watching their deaths' play out.

Look at him here. At first glance, it simply seemed that Donnie was grieving the loss of his brothers. "We lost. They're all gone. My dumb dumb brothers sacrificed themselves. I'm alone."

BUT after today's update, we realize that NOOO he's not just regretting that they're gone, he's BLAMING HIMSELF. Not only is he sad, he feels GUILT.

Looking back, his face clearly says, "I could have stopped it. I could have saved them. I failed. This is my fault."

"If I had been with you, the outcome might have been better." What hurts is that Don is RIGHT. He WAS the keystone of the resistance. Everything does indeed fall apart soon after he's gone (hence the episode name). It's a cruel, ironic twist on Survivor's Guilt-- because in that timeline he didn't survive. He was gone. And he blames himself for being gone.

We often talk about Future Leo's guilt over the apocalypse, but Future Donnie's guilt is not to be taken lightly. It actually makes a LOT of sense for him to blame himself for his family's deaths. We know that all dear Donton has ever wanted is validation for his tech, and his tech is his way of expressing to his family that he loves them. Ergo, all Donnie wants is to make tech to protect his family to Show Them That He Loves Them.

This is probably why he opened up to Raph, all but admitting his guilt over the less-than-perfect security system: it was like saying he and his love failed to protect them for long.

The character analysis deepens~

Here (and throughout all of The Little Things, really) we see him taking steps to make sure his brothers (and the resistance) will be taken care of. Delegating everything, even The Little Things (ah HA) all to ensure that all he does for them (to prove his love, of course) continues to happen.

Even here, when Donnie has been hanging onto life for so long that the Kraang are shocked he's still alive, Donnie wants to help. He could not "sit here and listen to them get killed," because he is Donatello, and he loves his family. Cass, you said it yourself: Violence is his love language. Rushing into battle, decimating the Kraang, saving his family. Because he may be dying, he may be clinging to life by a few threads, but he is Hamato Donatello and he loves his family.

But in the end, that's what he does. In the end, he DOES sit there and watch them get killed. Watches with his very own tech. One. By. One. They. Die. And deep down, Donnie thinks that if he would have been there, he could have found a way to make a generator NOT from Raph's heart. That he could have supported Mikey enough to keep him from disintegrating. That he could have protected Leo in those final, self sacrificial moments.

Donatello blames himself for not being there for his brothers. He blames himself for his tech not being flawless enough. He blames himself for dying on them.

Which is why he won't rest until they're ALL back home.

He is Mr. "I Can Fix This", so of COURSE he's going to fix this.

And afterwards, when his family is SAFE and HOME and TOGETHER he's going to apologize for "letting them die" and he's FINALLY going to get some SENSE knocked into his OWN dumb dumb brain (probably by Dr. Delicate Touch). His brothers love him because he's DONNIE. I cannot WAIT for the moment when they make him realize that they didn't miss his tech, they missed HIM. He's gonna realize just how utterly loved he is and I'm so excited for you, Cass, to show us that moment.

(I apologize; this got out of hand quickly, but the analysis has been bouncing around my head all day and I NEEDED to share it)

OH THIS IS ONE GREAT ANALYSIS RIGHT HERE

#I kinda..want to make a tag for these...#like #hm #cas analysis #yes I'm so unbelievably good at naming

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hyunsvngs · 6 months

Text

READ PART 1 FIRST!

turn to your right

Turning to your right, you don’t think anything particularly interesting is going to happen. It appears to be just a path leading towards another clearing in the woods, but the random sheets of metal intrigue you. Has someone been working on something here? You want to know what is going on. Why are you here? Why have you been sent here, and why did you pick this way?

The leaves crunch underneath your boots, ensuring that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak around if you tried. Sharp brambles like knives are obscuring your vision, and you attempt to push them out the way, only finding that it leaves tiny slashes up the skin of your arms. Strangely, it doesn’t feel as though it hurts - the only sign that anything had happened is the sight of crimson blood blooming on your skin. Sighing, you continue on, hoping to finally reach something at the end of the winding path.

It isn’t even a path, so to speak - you’re not sure you’re actually going to end up anywhere with the lack of markings on the road.

Until you notice the tinkering, clanging noises are getting louder. There’s a light at the end of the path, glowing yet flickering in an unstable manner and you wince, pushing the brambles out of the way so that you can finally exit the route you’d chosen.

You gasp at what you see, hand slapping over your mouth to quiet your noise. There’s an alien standing there, pale blue antennas poking out of dark navy hair. He’s got his back to you, clad in a white shirt and baggy white trousers. You wonder how they’re so immaculate considering he seems to have been here for so long, and he’s working on what looks to be a spaceship. You’d never seen one up close before, and you stand in awe, eyes fixated on the alien. He looks weirdly human, from what you can see - tinkering away with a tiny hammer, and his cheeks puffing out in frustration when you see him from the side. His skin is light blue and looks to be glimmering, twinkling every so often when the moonlight bounces off of the spaceship just right.

You were sure he didn’t know what he was doing, and you wanted to help, for some weird reason - but your mouth was moving and you were saying something before you could even process what it was. “Alien. You’re a fucking alien.”

“Alien?!” The man - thing? - jumps, turning to look at you. His voice is deep, and his eyes are completely pitch black - even the area that would normally be white. His legs are quivering where he’s sat on the ship. He squeals, pointing at you. “Don’t just stand there! Where’s the alien?!”

You blink, letting out a shocked laugh. “You. You’re an alien.”

He looks down at his skin, still clutching the tiny hammer in one hand. He looks at the spaceship, then turns back to you, lips twitching with a smile. “Well, yes. I thought you meant there was another one. Hey, have you seen my dog?”

“Your… dog?” You question, head tilting to the side. The alien nods, motioning at a metal food bowl on the floor. It reads ‘Fluffy’, in all capitals, and the F’s have all been written backwards. It looks to be written in shaky Sharpie. You try to suppress a smile.

“I haven’t seen him for a while,” He explains, frowning at the bowl. “He’s black and slimy, bigger than me. His name is Fluffy, and he’s the best dog, but I’m not sure he likes me that much.”

“Oh,” You say intelligently. “I’ll let you know if I find him. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jisung,” He finally hops off of the top of his spaceship, walking towards you with an outstretched hand. He’s taller than you, but not by much - and he’s strikingly beautiful. His skin does glimmer, especially when he’s closer to you. “Do you wanna see my spaceship?”

You nod. Was that an euphemism? You guess you’ll just have to find out, and Jisung leads you into his spaceship. It looks rather small from outside, and you obediently duck through the door when he does before you. It’s definitely bigger on the inside, random lights glinting on a control panel in front of a large glass window. Jisung looks proud, a broad smile on his face. You make sure to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at appropriate moments, nodding in approval at the scenery.

It is kind of uncanny, everything a bright gleaming white and almost blinding you. He even has a bed in here, you note, large and four-poster with white sheets tucked neatly in the corners. It is so clean.

“How long have you been here?” You ask, and his antennas twitch in response. He frowns, absentmindedly scratching his arm with his hand.

“I’m not sure,” He admits, blinking around at the walls. His eyes lock on a stack of board games in the corner, next to a stack of tins of dog food. How does he even have that? “I crashed here, and I’ve had to remake my spaceship. It’s kind of strange. It’s Earth, but… it’s not. It’s not Earth. How did you end up here?”

You shrug. “I’m not sure. I woke up here, and my watch broke hours ago. I don’t really know where I am or how to get out, if I’m honest.”

Jisung stalks towards his bed, flopping on his back. His toes curl in his boots, and he kicks them off with a huff, revealing his feet clad in pristine white socks. He blinks, leaning up to look at you. He’s weirdly human for an alien, if you ignore the blue skin and the antennas that keep twitching every time you speak.

“It’s not too bad here,” He says, hand fiddling with the white duvet. “I have a dog! There’s a fairy here, too. He’s really pretty, but- but you’re prettier.”

He’s embarrassed, you realise. If he wasn’t blue, you’d be able to see a blush on his cheeks. His antennas droop regardless, his bottom lip pouting as he avoids eye contact with you. In a moment of realisation, you shove your boots off too, walking over to join him on the bed.

“I’ve never seen an alien before,” You admit, pulling your knees up to your chest. Jisung mirrors you, pulling himself up onto his lap to stare into your eyes. They’re quivering, uncertain. “I think you’re pretty cool. You’re blue.”

“We all are,” Jisung huffs, but he stretches his arms out nonetheless to let you see his skin. It’s as if there’s a million lines of computer code within him, making up his entire being - yet he’s still so human. He’s so much like you, uncertain and a little shy but still talking a bit too much. “My race is, anyway. I’ve never seen a human before.”

You copy him, stretching your bare arms out. His fingers run over your skin tentatively, raising goosebumps in their wake and you bristle when he touches over the cuts on your skin. He hums, running his thumb over one.

“You’re cool,” He blurts, and then he’s holding your hand. He’s looking at you with earnest, black eyes wide. “Humans are pretty cool. I think so, at least. You’re really pretty. You’re even prettier than the fairy boy.”

You giggle, clutching his hand tighter. “You’re pretty too, Jisung. You’re very handsome. Do you not have a sweet alien girlfriend back home?”

Jisung shakes his head adamantly, creeping closer to you. “Nope. I have no one back home, apart from my parents. It’s been just me since I crashed here.”

“It must have been lonely,” You murmur. Are you… hitting on him right now? You are. You so are, and he’s going along with it, judging by the way his lips are slightly parted. His teeth are perfect, jutting out just a little but so white and straight. His antennas stick stark upright. You decide to continue, wanting to see more of his shocked expressions. “It must have been so lonely, Jisung. How did you manage all on your own?”

“I have my hand,” He blurts, blinking down at where his hand is still wrapped around yours. “Unless that’s not what you meant.”

“It is what I meant,” You coo, running your thumb over the back of his hand. Before you can process what you’re doing, you’re climbing into his lap, and he’s letting you. His hands move to your waist, eyes blinking up at you with shock. He’s so cute like this, puffy cheeks and wet, parted lips. “Do you miss having sex, Jisung?”

“I- I guess, I d’no,” His chest is heaving. He’s surprised, but he enjoys it, judging by the way his fingernails are digging into your skin through your shirt. “It does get hard, just touching myself all the time. Especially since - okay, don’t freak out. Please don’t freak out.”

You hum, running your fingernails over his antennas. He shivers with the touches. Are they sensitive? “I’m not going to freak out, baby. Tell me.”

“I have two dicks,” He whimpers when you pinch the tip of his right antenna between two fingers. He… what? It’s your turn to part your lips, a shocked breath of air coming out of you. You’re wet just from knowing that, alarmingly so. “It’s- it’s an alien thing, higher chance of breeding or whatever. So it goes in both holes, and they’re lubed, so-”

“Show me,” You command, shifting off of his lap. Jisung gasps.

“Just- just like that? You wanna see? Please, it’s gonna freak you out-”

“Jisung,” You insist, and he quivers. He likes that. He shifts backwards, and then he pulls his trousers down. He’s not wearing underwear, you notice, and he definitely does have two dicks. His first length is shorter, thicker and veinier, perfectly crafted to fit inside your pussy and drive you insane. The second one beneath the first is longer, still quite thick but not matching the first one, curved deliciously to fit inside of your asshole. His balls are heavy beneath them both, no doubt holding a lot of cum to ensure he bred you full. They’re both darker than the rest of him, a deeper blue like an ocean, entrancing to your eyes. You manage to drag your gaze away from the thick mushroom heads of his cocks for long enough to gauge his expression.

“You think it’s weird, right?” He’s embarrassed, but his erection - erections haven’t gotten a slight bit softer, still rock hard against his pubic bone.

“Absolutely not,” You say, licking your lips. They’re dry all of a sudden. Jisung turns to you, laying flat against the bed with his dicks still out, so hard and upright. You needed them. “I don’t think it’s weird. I’m so wet right now, baby, I need to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

Jisung whimpers, nodding, and then you’re straddling him again. You ensure you’re towards his thighs more, trying not to interfere with either of his erections just yet. He leans up on his forearms, and the movement results in him being a mere few inches away from you. His lips are pursed, as if he’s considering something, mind running amok.

You kiss him before he can think about whatever it is too much. His lips are soft, supple and a darker shade of blue against yours. He moans into the kiss, deep and gravelly, and your hands move to his hair again. Brushing over his antennas makes him shift underneath you, and then he pushes his tongue into your mouth. It’s dirty, wet and messy against your lips and you keen wildly against him, sucking his tongue between your lips.

He pulls away, his antennas drooping against your fingers. “I don’t just wanna kiss you. I wanna see you, please, please, let me see you. I’m not above begging, you know!”

He’s so earnest it makes you laugh, and you slip your t-shirt over your head. Jisung stares at your chest with wild, wide eyes, his erections jerking beneath your body. You’re quick to get rid of your bra too, exposing your dusky, hard nipples to the cold air inside the spaceship.

You jolt when Jisung sucks one of your nipples into your mouth, his hands moving to cup your ass. He’s moving your hips, you realise, grinding you into the lower, longer erection. It makes you whimper, his tongue swirling around your nipple like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He even moans into your skin, hands splaying across your asscheeks and gripping into the skin tightly.

“I need you,” He moans, teeth catching your nipple just slightly. “I need you so bad, you’re so pretty. Such a pretty human, please. My cocks are so fucking hard for you, baby.”

“I can see,” You muse, moving your hands from his hair to wrap both fists around them, one in each hand. Squeezing them permits drops of precum onto your fingers, and he throws his head back, groaning. “I need you too. I need you, Jisung. I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

You’re not lying. He really is beautiful, his skin tender and glittering like sequins beneath your eyes. He grunts at your words, letting out a few exhales at the feeling of your hands wrapped around him. Before you know it, he’s swatting your hand away, flipping you over and kissing down your body.

Jisung’s tongue runs down your nipples once again, and then his hands are making quick work of your trousers. He pops the button out of the clasp, yanking the zipper down and almost ripping them in the process of getting them off of your legs. Your underwear is revealed then, a simple cotton with a pale pink bow at the top centre, but Jisung’s eyes tell you he honestly believes you hung the damn moon.

His antennas are stiff and upright when he finally presses his face to your centre, inhaling deeply. He whines, his tongue darting out to lick over the fabric. You let your thighs fall apart, running one hand through his soft, dark navy hair. He’s so pretty between your legs like that.

“You’re ovulating,” He murmurs, running one thumb over your clothed clit. “You’re fertile. It always tastes so much better when the pussy’s fertile.”

“Eaten a lot of pussy, Sungie?” You quip, but he simply smiles, teeth jutting out from his lips and eyes forming crescent moons.

“I’ll show you and you can guess the answer,” he suggests, and you nod, grinning. His thumbs hook into your underwear, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to wherever he threw your trousers. You lean back, preparing yourself against the sheets and staring at the crisp white ceiling.

Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his tongue. Jisung licks over your clit, quick little kitten licks that make you keen. His tongue is pointed, almost sharp against your folds. He only moans at your reaction, thumbs moving to part your folds and reveal your hole. You’re almost dripping from the sight of his two cocks, and Jisung licks up the wetness you’ve accumulated, tongue dipping into your hole just slightly.

“That’s it, that’s it,” You babble, hands locking into his hair. He whimpers into your folds at the praise, his body almost vibrating in between your legs as he licks up your core. He’s messy, imprecise, but you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Oh, baby, you’re so good at that.”

“Mmhm,” Jisung mumbles, muffled by your folds. The vibrations send shocks through you, leaving your toes curling in your socks. He pulls your legs up by your upper thighs, and then your legs are on his shoulders while he eats you out, fully pliant against his bed for him. You moan in response, pushing your hips up to his face. His hands are gentle as they hold your hips in place, his tongue exploring every inch of you. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart in his mouth, and Jisung's movements become more urgent.

He pulls away all of a sudden, but he’s quick to slide two slender digits inside of you, curling them up towards a spot you never even knew you had. “Do you think you’ll cum for me, baby? Please? For me?”

“Yes,” You whine, nodding. “Yes, yes, I will, suck my clit again, please-”

You’re cut off by your own wail when he takes your clit between his lips again, tongue tapping on the button underneath your clitoral hood. It’s much more sensitive like this, and combined with his fingers curling against that spot inside you… well, you’re done for. You cum with a shake and a high pitched, embarrassing moan, fingers digging into Jisung’s scalp almost painfully. He moans against your clit anyway, eyes looking impossibly darker while you come apart in his mouth, grinding your hips against his tongue.

He pulls his fingers out when you’ve finished, one hand settling on your hips to soothe you through the aftershocks. He sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, the bottom half of his face covered in your juices and leaving him looking a cool hue of shiny blue.

“Mm, so sweet. I was right,” He looks like the cat who got the cream, and you groan, playfully kicking his shoulder. He blinks down at you and then he’s gasping, eyes fixated on something below your pussy. “I didn’t eat your ass! I didn’t even prep it. Okay, you can only take one dick today or-”

You grab him by the wrists, yanking him over you. He squeals in shock before he’s sighing at the feeling of his cockhead running through your pussy lips. He’s so easily distracted. It’s cute. “Push it in. I don’t care, you said they’re lubed. I want both of them.”

Jisung gasps, shaking his head. “It’ll hurt. Baby, it’ll hurt you, and I never wanna hurt you.”

“Put them both in, Jisung, or I’m not giving you anything,” You demand, and then you’re pulling your legs up to your chest. The position has both slick cockheads pressing at your holes, and he whimpers before he’s nodding impatiently. You watch as he rips his t-shirt off of his upper body by the back collar, throwing it aside. His shoulders are broad, seamlessly transitioning into a tiny, slender waist and toned biceps. He positions your knees on his shoulders, seemingly ignoring your ogling at his body. Oh. It’ll be deep like this. Almost like he’s trying to-

“I wanna breed you like this,” Jisung whimpers, using one hand to position his first cock at your pussy. “Can I? Please, baby, please. Lemme breed you, let me, please, I’ve been good makin’ you cum, and-”

“Breed me,” You sigh, eyes almost rolling back into your head. He nods, and then his cock is pushing inside you, raw and unprotected. The first shaft is veiny, thick against your already fluttering walls. Before you have a chance to adjust, his second cock breaches against your asshole. The slide is lubed like he said it would be, but the stretch still makes you suck in a sharp breath of air. You can’t deny it feels fucking amazing.

“Baby. Oh, my baby, my baby,” He’s babbling, hips rocking steadily against yours. It is deep like this, with your knees pushed up on his shoulders, and it looks like you’re not the only one that’s finding it hard to handle. “You’re so tight, fuckin’- shit, shit, baby, can I move? Can I fuck you properly, please, I’m gonna fucking blow.”

“Do all aliens have such dirty mouths?” You giggle, fingers digging into the sheets. Jisung huffs, antennas drooping with embarrassment. He’s trying so hard to stop moving his hips, trying to wait for the green light, and you feel bad for him. “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Be a good boy.”

Jisung gasps, nodding, and then he’s fucking you. He’s fucking into you like a rabbit, hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. You’re not faring any better. He’s so good at this, so good at using his hips to please you, and you can’t handle the sensation of being full like this. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to fuck anyone else again, man or woman.

His cocks are both thick inside you, and you feel so stretched. The lubed appendages ensure that the spaceship is now being filled with wet, slick noises upon every thrust, and Jisung’s whining against your neck, his head dropping into the crook of your skin.

“‘S so good, so good,” Jisung’s voice is high pitched, and you coo, your own breath shaky when you run your fingers over his antennas again. You feel his cocks twitch inside you at the sensation, against the deepest spots inside of you. “I don’t think I’m gonna last, I w’na cum inside so bad, please, baby, please.”

You whine, canting your hips up into his. “I’m not gonna last long, Sungie, just a bit more. I promise, baby, just a bit more, can you hang on for me?”

Jisung nods, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips move mindlessly. His hips are pressing against yours with each thrust, and you can feel every inch of his hard erections inside of you. You moan in pleasure as he continues to move in and out of you, his pace increasing with each thrust.

“Baby, baby, please. Cum for me, cum for your baby boy, please,” His breathing is ragged and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to coming apart for him for the second time, no doubt about to soak his cocks thoroughly. You both gasp and moan in unison, your hands gripping Jisung’s biceps and your ass pushing back against his hips. You feel like you're about to fall apart, and Jisung is loving every moment of it, judging by the blissed out grin on his face.

The pleasure is overwhelming and you feel yourself reaching your second orgasm, toes curling in your socks. You cum with a full body quiver, pussy clenching impossibly tighter around his cocks and then Jisung wails, his head dropping closer to you and nipping at your skin.

“G’na- gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” He’s babbling, letting out tiny little ‘ah’s with every thrust and making you gasp at the overstimulation. After half a dozen more movements, his hips finally still, and then he’s filling you up. The amount of his cum shocks you, oozing and gushing out of both of your tight holes and staining his pristine white sheets. It spills out around his cocks, and he looks down at your core, groaning at the sight. He pulls out just to slap his cockhead on your clit once, smearing the cum around, and then he collapses by your side.

You let him pull you into his chest, his lips kissing your hairline chastely. Your own hand moves to run your fingernails down his chest. “That was so good. You are fuckin’ amazing, so pretty.”

“What now?” You huff, head pressed against his pecs. You’re entranced by drawing shapes on his skin, the way the hearts you draw turn white before they fade away.

“Well, forgive me if I’m being too forward, but… how would you like to come home with me?”

You gasp, leaning up to look at him. He’s biting his lip nervously. “Jisung, this spaceship works?!”

Jisung scoffs. “Yeah! I haven’t just been working on it for nothing, baby. It’s fully functional.”

“You’re kidding me,” You giggle, slapping his chest playfully. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

wc: 3.9k

sw: alien jisung who has two cocks, cum, breeding kink, oral (f!rec), unprotected sex, anal, double penetration, sub jisung maybe

a/n: ITS HEREEEE I HOPE UR ALL SURPRISED N GO CRAZY AND ALSO INSANE <3 - juno

#hyunsvngbinitober !#han jisung smut #han jisung fic #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz fic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x reader #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 6 days

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I admire your patience with those readers who need you to spoon feed them the story. Everything is in the comics but they still manage to go pass it. I can't help but feel a bit sad for them? Do they not understand what they read? Are they not attentive when reading it? I'm legitimately concerned because I function so differently I can't fathom this. If you like a story, isn't it normal to make your best to grasp it's essence and reflect on it? I know I project a lot about this, everyone works and registers things differentely of course but sometimes it's very frustrating to see people consume any media and just completely miss all the important messages in it, or even just fail to get the scenario sometimes, and it feels like it's very common now... Idk I just wanted maybe to have your perspective on this? Sorry for the long post (Been here for a few years now and your a true inspiration to me. All my luv to you! ❤️)

You know, I'm gonna be honest. I used to stress out about this... a LOT.

As a story-brained person, this is definitely something that comes naturally to me, and perhaps to you, and to many other people who are wired similarly. To us, following the path of a story in an analytic, highly detail-motivated manner and unwrapping the themes can be as exciting as lifting up a rock to see the bugs underneath. It's an exciting mental activity that's stimulating and feels effortless.

And yes, as an author who spends literally 60% of my day thinking about this comic and how to draw it, panel it, script it, make it better (I script and panel in my head constantly)........ I have trouble realizing/dealing with the fact that some people are just here to CASUALLY enjoy the story that I am lowkey obsessed with.

But I've come to realize that... that's NORMAL! And healthy.

People have different attention spans for different things.

People have varied ways to read a story and engage with it.

People have unique interests.

People don't have the same amounts of energy to devote to reading!

Maybe someone missed a detail I lovingly and painstakingly put into the dialogue because they're reading the update late at night after a long shift at work. And maybe someone scrolled past the dialogue completely and just got the gist from looking at the art, because they're in a hurry to get to practice at their favorite sportsball.

And maybe someone just had a really bad day with a really bad encounter, and they're reading the update in a terrible mood and instead of seeing MY grey-morality narrative, they're focusing on all the negative points and misread the vibes because of their own biases that stem from places of hurt.

The thing is, I have to be okay with that as an author, because I will NEVER be able to get into my audience's heads and read this comic 'correctly' for my own sake.

They will always have a slightly different interpretation of things, and they will always misunderstand details and miss clues. And sometimes, they will be wrong about the way they read a character's motivations... and sometimes maybe they won't be! That's just a part of communication. That's a part of telling a story.

An imperfect delivery, and an imperfect reception should, in my opinion, be a natural and accepted part of storytelling. We're human, and we all have a different lived experience, and we will ALL have different takes on a comic, even if it's so close that we THINK we are both getting the exact same thing. That small human interpretation variation is a home-made touch that makes it feel more organic.

In short.... Not all light particles make it here from the sun, but damn the result is stunning anyway.

#chekhov answers

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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📚inch resting bits from the march twst manga updates📚 (octa, savana, & 4koma!)

***Manga spoilers below the cut (with an emphasis on the Episode of Octavinelle, since that's my favorite dorm!)***

The 4koma manga has dropped! Again, it centers around the daily lives of the NRC boys and is shown in a 4 panel gag comic format.

In the illustration above, we see the main cast with Grim's beloved tuna cans~

This month has comics about Ace going to a supplementary lesson (to learn how to manipulate brooms to do his chores) and Leona attending his art class. The comic depicts Leona, Idia, and Rook in the same art class though we're not sure if this is true in-game yet. However, the comics do carry over the continuity of Ace and Deuce being in Trein's class so maybe the art class thing is also true of Leona?

From the Episode of Savanaclaw manga: I KNOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AWE OF DIASOMANI'S PRESENCE BUT ALL I'M THINKING IS THAT DIASOMNIA HAS A MOB STUDENT WITH A BOWL CUT 😭

I'm also really fixated on how this mangaka draws her lashes and hair, they're always bangers every time 💗

Ruggie "bleh" face... Also???? That full page of him using his UM... and the visualization of the wildebeests racing with him like the people in the crowd, very Lion King.

I like that the manga really shows us more emotional and intense moments the game cannot depict due to its limited assets. Here, we see the aftermath of Ruggie using his UM on the crowd. Even with Azul's magic-enhancement potion, Ruggie has taken a great physical toll from spellcasting. Falling to his knees, panting... This will make it hurt more when Leona almost poofs him to sand later 😭

These panels remind me of like. Scar looking on from up high while the hyenas do his bidding. Ruggie's expression... it's so full of a desperate kind of hope has he gazes up at his "king".

From the Episode of Octavinelle, we get to see Leona post-OB and recovering in the infirmary. Side note, I really love how the mangaka adds these cute little faces to let us know who is speaking in certain text bubbles. The little faces make some of the cutest expressions; just look at that cheeky chibi Leona head!

Here, Ruggie is telling everyone about rumors that Azul and the twins purposefully prevent their clients from fulfilling their end of the contract so they can reap the benefits. I like how the scene shown is a boat tipping over (with the twins implied to have flipped it). Nice callback to the boat scene in The Little Mermaid!

We have another The Little Mermaid reference here, where Floyd shares his UM with the gang?? The hypothetical man here reminds me of Prince Eric, especially in that white shirt and appearing as though he is drowning.

Guys... Azul's been taking modeling lessons from Vil-- I really like these more quiet and contemplative moments of Azul; plenty of those are featured this month.

asdbhlfdbaifyoaiygoeia I WILL NOW ALWAYS ASSOCIATE AZUL THINKING HARD WITH SITTING IN THAT CHAIR... There's so many shots of him seated here...

Yuuta continues to be my favorite manga!Yuu so far by diligently tidying up Leona's messy ass room for him... asfvkyadvfialf Grim looks so goofy helping out, that tower of clothes is half his size...

FLOYD'S FACE IS SO siLLy HERE TOO (this is the scene when Ruggie recalls seeing his eel form during a P.E. class where they swam). The mangaka really decided to summon his gremlin energy here...

Aaaaah, I love this shot; it sort of parallels Azul and Leona... It also makes me realize the difference between how Leona's hair is in Octavinelle vs Savanaclaw (due to the different mangaka). In Octavinelle, his hair is usually a solid black with white highlights but in Savanaclaw there tends to be a subtle gradient/screen tone on Leona's hair.

Anyway, twins Twins TWINS

GOOD WAY TO CLOSE OUT THE OCTA CHAPTER, EXCELLENT WAY TO CLOSE OFF THE OCTA CHAPTER IN FACT 🫶 Can you tell I love the Tweel parts/j

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crosshairlovebot · 2 months

Text

welcome home / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

word count: 4,036

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.

the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!

although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.

You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.

Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.

Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.

Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.

Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.

There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.

You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.

You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”

The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”

You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.”

You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”

He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.

“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.

You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.

At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”

Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.

You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.

Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.

His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”

Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.

“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”

“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.

“Good.”

Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.

He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.

You had missed him too, after all.

Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.

“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.

You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”

He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”

You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.

You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.

“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.

Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.

You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.

His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.

You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.

Exhausted, but never for you.

He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.

He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.

Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.

“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.

“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.

You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.

Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.

“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”

“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.

Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.

Was this man really yours?

He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.

You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.

“Been too long,” he whispered.

“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.

“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.

Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.

You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.

“Hunter—”

Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”

Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.

Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.

Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."

It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.

When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.

Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.

He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.

“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.

He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.

You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.

“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.

“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.

You chuckled. “You smell like me.”

“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”

You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”

“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”

You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.

“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”

“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.

“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.

“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.

You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”

Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.

You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

TAGLIST FORM

if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter bad batch smut #hunter x reader smut #hunter bad batch #huter fic #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch smut #tbb huter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch smut #hunter smut

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after-witch · 10 months

Text

Something Like Consolation [Yandere Alhaitham x Reader]

Title: Something Like Consolation [Yandere Alhaitham x Reader]

Synopsis: Follow up to this yandere Kaveh & Alhaitham imagine scenario. You don't want any comfort from Kaveh in this moment, but you don't imagine you can get any from Alhaitham, either.

I read this post from @j0succ last night about gentle lies and immediately got an idea for a line of dialogue that solved how I wanted to approach a lil follow up to this scenario. Mostly written on my phone so uhh yeah.

Word count: 1376

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

The sight in the bathroom mirror is a far cry from what you saw only minutes before. Daintily applied makeup, finished off with carefully painted star, are ruined--streaking. Ugly. That’s what you see in the mirror. Splotches of color and red eyes and a face scrunched from bitter sadness.

You look ugly. Mouth quivering as you fight to keep your sounds in, the blur of Alhaitham behind you, moving to shut the door.

It’s the soft click of the bathroom door shutting that does you in. And pitiful mouth-pinched sobs that shake your chest become thick, choking cries echo off the panels of the bathroom walls.

You aren’t hoping for Alhaitham to take you in his arms and rub your back and pull you close to his chest, and he doesn’t. Instead he reaches for one of the cloths hanging on the wall and turns the sink on, the heavy sound of water mingling with your own cries.

He holds it out. “Wash that off, then we’ll get you changed.”

The thought of taking that cloth makes your arms feel leaden.

You look up at him, mouth downturned and pitiful and quivering.

He sighs, and shakes his head.

“I’ll wash it off for you. Stay still.”

And you do, coughing out your cries as he dutifully dips the cloth in water again and again, scrubbing your face with the same methodical firmness that he scrubs the rest of you when he deems you too unruly to bathe yourself.

If it were Kaveh, you think, he would be using the softest of touches. Cooing in between strokes as he gently wipes the makeup away. Kissing your cheek to calm you down.

But you don’t want Kaveh right now. Not when he hurt you. Not when he lied to you. And if he lied about this... what else was a lie, then?

The way his fingers nimbly stroked your back when you were upset, the soft downturn of his lips when Alhaitham was verbally berating you for being so disobedient, the sweet kisses tinged with wine from a bar you’ll never be able to set foot in?

Were they all falsehoods, too? Pretty things he created to calm you and soothe you and shut you up?

When Alhaitham deems your face clean enough, he pulls away the cloth and drops it in a wicker hamper to be taken care of later.

“Wait.” You reach out and touch his forearm, your voice is soft and thick. A frog in your throat, but the frog is a heavy chest and broken dreams.

He pauses, and regards you with a frustratingly neutral expression.

Your tongue unsticks from your mouth and you bite your lip to keep sobs from trembling out, so that you can say something to make him stay. Something that might make you feel better, even, if that can be managed.

“Kaveh…” You fight for the words. You can’t say anything awful. Not just for your own sake--you can’t possibly thrust Kaveh entirely away, not here--but because you never know when Alhaitham would rather lecture you on proper respect than acknowledge when he or Kaveh has done something awful to you.

“Kaveh lied.” That’s what you decide on. It's a fact, and surely not something that you can get in trouble for saying. "Why... why did he do that?"

Alhaitham sighs. At first, you don’t think he’ll say anything. You think he’ll remove your hand from his arm and go get you dressed and tell you to read a book and be quiet.

But he does speak. And what he says takes you aback.

“He should not have lied to you.” He talks down to you even now, the same way he does when he’s instructing you on what you should be doing that day, or how you should sit or how you should eat. For the moment, it doesn’t bother you, because he's clearly on your side. Your side!

“The moment you asked to go to the festival, he should have told you no.”

A pause, and his voice lowers. There’s something akin to softness in his tone. Maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe you’re so desperate for sweetness that you’re placing the gentle curves of Kaveh’s voice into the man before you.

“Letting you get your hopes up like that was very cruel of him.”

And you nod--you nod, for once, agreeing with Alhaitham, and you’re so busy looking downcast that you don’t see the pleasant surprise that flickers in his expression for a moment.

You don’t think before you move. You just do it. You step forward and wrap your arms around his back, pressing your head against his chest, the same way you do to Kaveh when you need comfort. Which is often.

Alhaitham is not one for gentle embraces and soft hugs. But you hear him sigh, an annoyed, resigned thing, and you feel his hand pat your back. Just the once. He doesn’t stroke it or pull you close and cluck and coo, but there’s something comforting about the solid weight of his chest underneath you.

His hand, too, is what breaks you again. You cry pitifully into his chest, turning your face this way and that, getting his clothing wet with hot tears and probably snot that he will make you clean up later.

“I… I…” What do you want to say? What can you say? You think about your outfit, the carefully embroidered flowers, the painfully tight stitching that took you hours upon hours. An outfit you sweat and quite literally bled for, the callused little pinpricks on your finger pads as proof.

“I worked hard on my outfit,” you say, squeezing Alhaitham tighter as your voice gets thinner and pinched. “I really did.”

You worked hard on it, because it was your ticket to something you wanted, and what was the crux? It was something for you, for once. Not Kaveh. Not Alhaitham. You were going to run around that festival and breathe in the smell from the food stands and ask them to win you prizes and enjoy the exhilarating pounding in your chest from the fireworks at the end of the night.

Every stitch you made was one step closer to that. Only it wasn’t. Only it was for nothing at all. And now you’re sobbing in a bathroom while Alhaitham listens, letting you cry it out, and what was any of it for?

You’re about to pull away when Alhaitham hums underneath you.

“The embroidery was well done.”

Your breath feels like it stops, and there’s a soft, stuttering sort of gasp that escapes your mouth. Alhaitham… never compliments you. Not like that. Not in a way that you can hold onto and carry with you.

You pull back, sniffling, wiping at your face with your hands as you stare up at him.

“It… it was?” You gulp down your cries, and your eyes widen, and you want so much from him in this moment that you don’t know what to do.

He nods, and his hands push you away a little, holding onto your arms with his fingers wrapped around your upper arms. Not to get you away from him, but to steady you, you think. To keep you firm in his embrace, and not the other way around.

“Yes. The stitches were remarkably straight. And you managed the flowers without having to redo them.”

You offer a tearful smile.

“I-I read about the flower techniques in the book you gave me about sewing, after I asked for some supplies.”

And is that a smile of his own? Aimed at you, no less? It makes you swallow your tears in the same way Kaveh’s kisses might have done.

“Good. You should always take the time to read the books I give you. It’s better for your education.”

And you, weepy thing, distraught thing, nod again. Yes, Alhaitham. You’re right, Alhaitham.

He does pull away this time, and regards you with a look that might almost be described as pleased.

“Come. We will get you dressed and then you can sit with me while I read.”

And you, wiping at your tears, catching a stray bit of makeup that didn’t come up with the cloth, nod again.

You follow him out the door and pretend not to see the figure of Kaveh in the corner of your eye, watching the two of you warily.

#yandere alhaitham #yandere genshin impact #yandere #afterwitch writes #wrote this mostly on my phone during physical therapy recovery today do dee do

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marlynnofmany · 3 months

Text

Food Choices

Normally when I’m in a room with the entire crew of the courier ship, it’s either for an important debriefing by the captain or because of some emergency. We’d never all been at a restaurant together before. I kept having moments of worry that the ship was unattended, and having to remind myself that it was fully locked. Any of our biometrics could unlock it, and no one else would get past the hatch. It was fine. We could celebrate how good business had been — with the captain paying for everyone’s food — and there was no need to fret.

It was still bizarre, though. Almost as bizarre as some of the food I’d seen on other tables as we made our way to this one. The city was a cultural hub like few others. (Well, probably like many others, but they were very proud of themselves on that count. And this restaurant was a fine example.)

“The server will bring appetizers first,” said Captain Sunlight, scaly hands folded on the table in front of her with infinite dignity. “There’s no charge for these, and the server will likely decide for you what you want. They were pretty good at guessing last time I was here.”

“We shall see,” Zhee said with a flick of his antennae. He sat on an angled mat instead of a chair, since the restaurant had seating accommodations for all body types, including praying-mantis-shaped bug aliens. The mats were even adjustable, which was good because Trrili was taller than he was. She sat on the other side of the circular table — whether that was for more elbow room for the pinchers, or to make a maximum tripping hazard for people walking past, I couldn’t say. Either seemed in character for her.

“What’s the panel in the floor for?” Paint wanted to know. She sat next to the captain, scales a shiny orange to Sunlight’s yellow. I think she polished them before leaving the ship. She pointed now at the seam that I hadn’t noticed: a smaller circle inside the open center of the table.

Captain Sunlight said, “That’s the server’s entrance. They bring the food up from the kitchen downstairs.”

“Oh, nice!”

At my left, Mimi the mechanic grumbled about what an unnecessarily flashy choice that was, and how the restaurant had better keep on top of their maintenance. He gestured with his tentacles as he talked, sounding like he spoke from experience. “Anything that moves can stop moving, and usually at the worst time.” He also sounded like he gargled with engine grease, but he always sounded like that.

Fast-moving tentacles from further down turned out to be Wio and Mur, who’d discovered a game I didn’t recognize on the digital menu panel set into the tabletop. They were slapping away at something with competitive speed, and Mur seemed to be winning. Which was probably nice for him, given how often he lost at card games against the captain.

On my other side, Blip wrinkled her fishy nose. “I was about to say something smells good, but…”

“Then you smelled that?” asked Blop. “What is that?” He turned to look at neighboring tables, nearly elbowing Coals in the head and immediately apologizing. It was a good thing he’d missed, since that much muscle would have hurt.

“No harm done,” said Coals with his usual calm. I don’t think I’d ever seen the little lizardy guy upset. Which was probably for the best, given that he worked on translations with Trrili, and that had to be an exercise in patience.

Eggskin sat on his other side, similarly scaly and calm, but with far more opinions about food, since they were the ship’s cook as well as medic. I was only catching snatches of conversation from where Eggskin discussed the menu with Kavlae, but it sounded like a lengthy explanation for something. Kavlae didn’t look bored, though (head frills waving with interest), so it was probably good information. As a pilot, she didn’t spend much time on food prep.

I’d helped Eggskin in the kitchen plenty, both as part of the assistance rotation and because I found it interesting. The crew ate a range of foods, and most of it was edible for humans, though there were a few dishes that I wouldn’t touch on a dare.

A gentle chime sounded. Before I could ask what it was, the trapdoor sank down an inch then slid aside. A column rose into view that turned out to be a Waterwill, the gelatinous aliens that followed very few biological rules that I was familiar with. This one had less murky innards than most, with a bunch of things floating in there that could have been organs, recent meals, or personal belongings. The voice sounded vaguely male, and it hardly burbled at all.

“I hope you are all having an excellent day/night cycle! May your experience here only improve things.” He kept raising up, then when the platform cleared the floor, it folded out into a ring of serving dishes. The Waterwill sank back down in the center and everything locked into place. “Now, whose idea was it to dine at our fine establishment?”

Everyone pointed at Captain Sunlight.

“Ah, then I will serve you first!” The Waterwill didn’t turn, since he didn’t have visible eyes or even a mouth to be talking with, but somehow I got the impression that he had focused his attention in that direction. A stubby armlike shape reached out to set a bowl in front of the captain. “Our finest Heatseeker cuisine. And for you as well, madam. Also you, and you; don’t think I missed you over there.” Several arms passed out similar dishes to the other lizardy members of the crew.

I tried to peek around Blip and Blop for a look at Coals’ food, but couldn’t get a good angle. Might have been pasta and meatballs; might have been worms and worse.

“And!” announced the Waterwill, turning back to Zhee, “I hope this will be to your liking. And yours as well.” Goo arms set identical plates in front of the two Mesmers, and I could see from a distance that they held dead animals with the heads removed.

Zhee’s antennae were doing a complicated dance, but I couldn’t figure out if he was pleased or not before the server moved on.

“Only our best for the Frillians present!” He set festive arrangements of shrimp-things in front of Blip, Blop, and Kavlae. Really artistic; good presentation. The variety of colors and sizes made the plates into works of art. I hoped they tasted as good as they looked.

I murmured, “Ooh, fancy,” as the server came up with three more dishes.

“The Strongarm special!” he announced, laying them out in front of the three tentacle aliens to my left. Meat and plants of some sort; I couldn’t tell what.

Then he was back in front of me, and I realized I was the only one without food yet.

“Last but not least,” he said, “Featuring ingredients straight from Earth, we have a meal our chef has named the ‘Mother and Child Reunion.’”

The plate held a chicken breast, a hardboiled egg, and a pile of corn.

While Captain Sunlight thanked him generously, I stared at the plate with my hand over my mouth. When the server had packed everything up and disappeared back into the floor, I still didn’t know what to say.

Mimi spoke up from my left. “All right, why is it called that?”

I pointed. “This is the unhatched young of that species. And this is food they eat.”

Mimi tilted his octopuslike head to get a look at whatever expression I was making. “Isn’t that a weird thing to name it? Aren’t humans famous for pack-bonding with animals?”

“Yes and yes,” I admitted.

His rough voice was gentle. “Should we get you something else?”

“No, it’s okay,” I said, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a name. This is human food; I just wasn’t used to thinking about it like that.”

“If you’re sure.”

I looked around the table, expecting to find the rest of the crew enjoying their food. To my surprise, there were complaints.

“They overcooked the worms and the fruit!” Paint said. “And these beetles aren’t even shelled. Who eats something with that many spikes straight?”

Wio grumbled, “How do they know enough to pick out shorebirds and air lettuce, but not enough to know what an insulting assumption that is?”

“Right?” Mur agreed. “No self-respecting Strongarm would choose something from the shore when there are inland foods available just a little farther away.”

The pair of them griped about the species’ history of walking out of the sea, and everything that meant to them, while Mimi added murmurs of agreement.

Zhee, meanwhile, was complaining louder. “They took out the good parts! What nonsense is this? Did they mean to put the intestines in a separate dish and forget?”

He looked across the table for agreement from Trrili, and found her scooping paste out of a jar that had come with the meal. She dumped the last of it onto her plate and spread it around while Zhee sputtered. “Really, Trrili? That much? Would you like some fursqueak with your sauce?”

“Soursauce is the only reason to eat fursqueak,” Trrili retorted. “If you don’t want yours, pass it down.”

Zhee exclaimed that the brains were everyone’s favorite where he came from, which was clearly more cultured than whatever backwater moon she was hatched on, and they bickered across the table.

I peeked over my shoulder at the other restaurantgoers, hoping they weren’t glaring at us. I found a pair of elderly Heatseekers watching with interest, for all the world like they had been hoping to get dinner and a show. Their plates held something that looked like green popcorn.

Next to me, Blip heaved a sigh. “I’m actually kind of tired of shrimp.”

Blop laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s great! The best food out there! But… I don’t know, I guess I was looking forward to something more exotic.”

I eyed the fancy plates. “Ever tried chicken?”

They both looked at me. “No,” said Blip. “Does it have a strong flavor?”

“I wouldn’t say so. It is good, though. Popular on Earth for a reason. Here, I’ll trade you a bit.” I separated a chunk and handed it over while Blip put a bright pink jumbo shrimp on my plate.

“Can I try the egg?” Blop asked tentatively. “Is that okay? It looks so different from fish eggs.”

“Sure!”

Captain Sunlight caught sight of what we were doing, and loudly asked if Wio wanted to trade seabird for worm jerky. She did.

After that it was a cheerful chaos of swapping and sampling. Mur thought Zhee’s fursqueak was tasty, if tough; Zhee happily cracked open Paint’s spiky beetles; Trrili found that her favorite sauce was also good on shrimp; Eggskin and Coals both liked the corn. Kavlae said that a wrapping of Mur’s air lettuce elevated her shrimp from tasty to god-tier.

By the time the server appeared again to take our orders for the rest of the meal, we were all ready. I have never seen a Waterwill look that surprised as when he heard some of our choices.

~~~

(The meal name comes from the Paul Simon song, which was apparently inspired by something on a Chinese restaurant menu.)

Anyways, these are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #culture clash #in spaaace #food #it can be a gamble no matter where you're from

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