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o0sleepingdead0o · 7 months ago

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Ambassador Danny AU

Just a silly thing knocking around in my brain.

Batman halted in the door of the conference room, taking in the sight of a strange being lounging imperiously in his chair. His white hair seemed to defy gravity ever so gently and his green, glowing eyes—Jason’s eyes—stared back with none of the regard or fear so many people showed towards Batman. His tanned face was speckled with tiny stars that Batman had to actively resist becoming memorized by. The boy’s choice of covering was sheening armour that refracted the light through his chest-plate of black ice. The white sleet that sharpened his knuckles seemed perfectly capable of movement despite it encasing his hands in similar fashion to the chest-plate; glassy in it’s brutal edges and as hard as the sheets that form over the coldest of lakes.

The watchtower had been invaded. Batman had questioned why the place was so cold when he’d arrived. Now he knew.

The only thing that kept Batman from immediately reacting might have—very much—had to do with how young he looked. A boy in the second half of his teens.

And the fact that several other Justice League members were at Batman’s back as he strolled further into the room, watching the boy warily.

The boy’s eyes were unconcerned as he watched the Justice League file in. Worryingly so. Who was he that he would be so unfazed, how powerful? Or was it faith he wouldn’t be harmed, taking advantage of the Justice League’s strong morals?

The teen had commandeered the chair with all the authority of a king and the confidence of one assured of their own position. He sprawled across it. The chairs were all identical of practical, unassuming make, but this boy made it look like his throne as he leaned heavily on one side and stretched one leg way on the other. A hand was extended to dangle off one chair-arm and he had a knee braced up, showing an armoured shin protecting his black, sturdy, cargo-like pants and iced boots that jagged treacherously upwards.

The boy smirked. “Took you long enough. I was getting bored.”

Batman resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his already protected ears from the unearthly static and screeching glaciers that came from the boy’s mouth. He noticed Superman flinch and his face grimace.

“Who are you?” Batman growled. This boy was obviously inhuman. He was also an unknown. Batman would be foolish to underestimate someone who had somehow infiltrated the watchtower without being seen or setting off any alerts. Who exuded too much confidence, as if the entire world was at his fingertips.

Attacking took the back-burner in favour of garnering information in such a concerning situation.

“You may address me as. . .” He contemplated a bit too much for Batman to believe whatever he would give them would be his true name. “Danny.”

“. . .Danny.”

The name was so. . .normal.

“How did you get here?” Wonder Woman asked with hints of warning and aggression.

The boy smiled. He had fangs. Too many sharp teeth. He didn’t answer and was revelling in their ignorance.

“What are you doing here?” Superman asked. It said something about Danny’s energy that even superman was being cautious about approaching.

“Waiting for you.” He smirked.

“Why?” Batman pushed as much threat and intimidation into his stance and words as he could. He usually didn’t have to think about it. “What do you want?”

Danny chuckled and a shiver ran up Batman’s spine. Goosebumps formed even through the protective layers that shielded him from the cold.

“Why don’t you sit?” The words should have been innocent. They felt like a trap. “You’ve gathered for a meeting, haven’t you?”

The league members didn’t move. Danny sighed.

“Fine, fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes and Batman was eerily reminded of how much the adolescent exasperation reminded him of his own children. Danny leaned off the chair arm to lean an elbow on the table instead, propping his chin up. He was all teeth. “The Infinite Realms wishes for peace. I’ve come to investigate the possibility of a treaty on behalf of the High King.”

<><><><>

“THERE’S A DENIZEN OF THE INFINITE REALMS IN THE WATCHTOWER??!!!”

Batman held the phone away from his face at Constantine’s uncharacteristic display of panic. It did not bode well and it settled uncomfortably in his bones.

He grunted in affirmation.

Constantine swore up and down enough to fill Alfred’s swear jar ten times over. “What do they want?! What did you say to them!? Ohhhh, bloody ****! You’ve already antagonized them haven’t you?!”

“No.” Batman ground out.

Constantine was quiet. Several seconds ticked by.

“. . .WELL?!”

“He claims the High King wants to negotiate for peace.”

There was silence on the other end. Batman usually preferred it when Constantine was quiet, but this was thick and seemed to claw out of the phone to infect the watchtower. It muffled the noises and beeps and drowned out the presence of the other league members who had stepped out of the conference room with him.

Then there was a great, controlled release of wavery air. When Constantine spoke, it was more serious than Batman ever remembered hearing him.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine mumbled to himself. “Listen closely, Bats, and repeat everything, and I mean everything, to your circus clowns.”

Superman cleared his throat. “We’re here.”

“YOU LEFT THE AMBASSADOR ALONE?!”

“Of course not! Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are monitoring him.” Batman said.

Constantine grumble-sighed. “Good.” He mumbled. “Two of the competent ones. I don’t trust Bats not to **** this up and get us all killed.”

“What now?” Flash said.

Batman was a little offended. “Constan—“

“NO!” He yelled vehemently. He sounded a little manic. “Batsy, you have the emotional intelligence of a wet paper bag, a sad, trampled, wet paper bag with so many holes that it can’t even be considered a bag anymore, you have the emotional intelligence of wet, paper scraps and the diplomacy of a feral hyena! Unless he addresses you first, Do. Not. Initiate! Do not open your mouth! I have no faith in you whatsoever!”

“I will n—“ Batman tried to growl again, but Constantine cut him off. Again!

“No!” Constantine reiterated oh, so eloquently. “Look.” He sighed. “Getting news of the newest High King since he defeated the last one has been near impossible. All Deadman will tell me is that he’s better than the last guy and we are incredibly lucky our entire dimension wasn’t wiped out after that stunt the American government pulled with the Anti-ecto Acts.”

Batman saw some of the leaguers pale. He suddenly wasn’t feeling the best either.

“Anti-Ecto Acts?”

“Laws declaring their species non-sentient and illegal, I dealt with it, thing is, this is an extremely delicate situation.” He stressed. “We don’t know what kind of ruler he is, what little thing might set him off, and we cannot afford to set the High King off! Capiche?! It’s a good sign that he’s willing to negotiate peace, but he could change his mind. Some ghosts are very temperamental.”

“Ghosts.” Several of the leaguers repeated. Constantine let out an incredibly exasperated sound.

“Do you idiots know nothing?! Yes, ghosts! The Infinite Realms is the dimension between dimensions, the land of the dead and the never-born! They are incredibly powerful entities and many of them could level our planet easily! Whatever you do, DO NOT ask how they’ve died! It is highly taboo and you’ll get yourselves killed!” Constantine let out a stressed groan.

“I would come back and deal with this myself, but I am. . .occupied at the moment. Don’t try to negotiate without me! You lot will muck everything up! And seriously, DO NOT ASK HOW THEY’VE DIED! Keep the Ambassador happy until I can get there, convince him to stay! We might not have another chance like this, don’t annoy them, do not ignore them, and, just in general, don’t give the ambassador any reason to deliver anything negative to King Phantom and have him erase us all, got it?”

The Justice League exchanged several, stunned looks.

“Got it?”

Batman grunted.

“Good. And Bats.” Constantine added lowly. “If this fails, I am blaming you for the end of the world.”

Constantine ended the call and the phone beeped before drowning everyone in silence. The leaguers shared more looks.

“Now what?” Hal said.

#dpxdc fanfic #danny phantom #justice league #john constantine #Danny Fenton is trolling

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beansprean · 6 months ago

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AND THAT'S A WRAP ON WWDITS FILMING...[wails loudly]

I hope these actors know how much they have done for me, specifically. And how many times I have drawn their dumb faces dkjfhk.

Please consider donating to Medical Aid for Palestine! It's what Kayvan would want. :) 🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of Guillermo and Harvey Guillén on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Harvey!' Harvey's skin is slightly tanner than Guillermo's, his hair is sun-bleached and curling freely over his forehead, and he is wearing a blue knit crop top and denim overalls. He is hugging Guillermo from behind with his chin on his shoulder, grinning up at the viewer. Guillermo, wearing a white shirt and brown patterned cardigan, is cupping Harvey's hands with his own over his chest and looking at him with a fond smile, cheeks pressed together.

2. Waist up of Nandor and Kayvan Novak on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kayvan!' Kayvan's skin is a rich brown against Nandor's vampire pallor and his half-up hair and slightly longer beard are graying; he is wearing a dangly gold earring in his left ear and is wearing a lime green button up tee with a red watermelon pattern. He has picked Nandor up in a hug with his arms wrapped around his waist. Nandor, wearing a long brown kaftan under a orange diamond-patterned coat with short furred sleeves, has his right hand braced on Kayvan's shoulder and the other wrapped around his back. They are both grinning widely and looking at the viewer.

3. Waist up of Nadja, Nadja doll, and Natasia Demetriou on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Natasia!' Natasia is lightly tanned and has chest wavy length hair with bangs, dark brown at the roots with honey brown and blonde highlights throughout. She is wearing a periwinkle skirt and bandeau top with an outer layer of translucent chiffon in the same color, along with poofy off-shoulder chiffon sleeves, several rings, and a thin chain necklace with her name on it. Nadja and Dolly are matching in dark blue v neck gowns with a gold pattern and front buttons, their hair half up in twin horns. Nadja is grinning at the viewer, fangs out, and leaning heavily into Natasia's side, pressing their shoulders together. Dolly sits on their shared shoulder space, perched directly between their heads with her arms around them, smiling up at the viewer. Nadja's right arm is up under Dolly to support her legs. Natasia's right arm is bent upward like one might do to support a perching bird and her left is palming Dolly's knees to keep her in place. She is smiling over at the Nadjas, half bent over from their weight leaning on her.

4. Waist up of Laszlo and Matt Berry on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Matt!' Matt is pale (but clearly more alive than Laszlo), with wavy shoulder length hair streaked with gray and a graying beard that has been allowed to grow a bit further past his chin. He is wearing a plain white tee shirt, denim jacket, and silver chain necklace. Laszlo is wearing a red button up dashingly open at the collar under a dark blue waistcoat and lighter blue jacket with a darker damask pattern. They are standing mirrored, back-to-back with their arms crossed and shoulders pressed together, looking back over their shoulders at each other. Matt smiles at his character lazily while Laszlo offers him a mildly salacious smirk.

5. Waist up of Colin Robinson and Mark Proksch on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Mark!' Mark is standing facing the viewer with squared shoulders, wearing a blue and white plaid shirt with a chest pocket, only the top button undone. Were it not for the color and a slight shape change to his glasses, you wouldn't be able to tell him from his character. Colin is standing directly behind and to the right of him, wearing a brown v neck sweater over a beige collar and dull red tie. His head is tipped back and his mouth is open in a wide grin, eyes glowing bright blue behind his glasses. Mark glances at him from the corner of his eye with a slightly amused smirk.

6. Waist up of the Guide and Kristen Schaal on a white background with small yellow polka dots. Cursive red and gold script in the top left corner says 'Thank you, Kristen!' Kristen is pale in a human way with chin length curly brown hair and is wearing a loose empire waist black tank top under a translucent yellow chiffon top with a frilled neckline and elbow length balloon sleeves. The Guide is smiling open-mouthed at Kristen and wearing her usual black square cap, jacket, skirt, and gloves. They are back to back, elbows linked together to keep each other close, with Kristen leaning backward into the Guide so she stoops forward slightly. Kristen's far hand flashes a peace sign as she grins over at the Guide, tongue between her teeth. /end ID

#wwdits #shadowsart #guillermo de la cruz #harvey guillen #nandor the relentless #kayvan novak #nadja of antipaxos #natasia demetriou #laszlo cravensworth #matt berry #colin robinson #mark proksch #the guide wwdits #kristen schaal #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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hollowed-theory-hall · 7 months ago

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Harry Potter is Probably Gay and Here's Why

So.... a lot of this fandom likes to call one Harry James Potter a Bi disaster. Personally, I think he's gay and I can use book text to prove he isn't actually attracted to women at all.

So here goes:

How Harry Describes Men

Harry describes many men as attractive and handsome in the books, not only that but in general Harry goes into more detail when describing male characters. I'll mention it again in a later section in this post, but when describing men, even those Harry doesn't find attractive, he tends to describe much more details about them than about girls he supposedly does find attractive. Something that to me suggests, he doesn't find these girls attractive at all.

Here are some examples of Harry finding men attractive:

Charlie Weasley:

Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weatherbeaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it.

(Goblet of Fire, page 52)

Bill Weasley:

However, Bill was — there was no other word for it — cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill’s clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide.

(Goblet of Fire, page 52)

Cedric Diggory:

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen.

(Goblet of Fire, page 71)

Sirius Black:

Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’s nor Harry’s could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn’t seem to have noticed.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 642)

Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 644)

Firenze:

white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 598)

Professor McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching Divination

(Half-Blood Prince, page 174)

Blaise Zabini:

He recognized a Slytherin from their year, a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes

(Half-Blood Prince, page 143)

Draco Malfoy:

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

(Chamber of Secrets, page 133)

Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 79)

A pale boy with a pointed face and white-blond hair

(Goblet of Fire, pages 116-117)

Tom Marvolo Riddle:

There was no trace of the Gaunts in Tom Riddle’s face. Merope had got her dying wish: He was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old, dark-haired, and pale

(Half-Blood Prince, page 269)

The door creaked open. There on the threshold, holding an oldfashioned lamp, stood a boy Harry recognized at once: tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome — the teenage Voldemort.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 364)

Harry recognized Voldemort at once. His was the most handsome face and he looked the most relaxed of all the boys.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 369)

followed by a tall young man Harry had no difficulty whatsoever in recognizing as Voldemort. He was plainly dressed in a black suit; his hair was a little longer than it had been at school and his cheeks were hollowed, but all of this suited him; he looked more handsome than ever.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 434)

I don't think anyone would argue Harry isn't attracted to men... He's kind of obvious. What I want to go more into detail about is him not being attracted to women, as that's what I think I disagree with most of the fandom about.

How Harry Describes Women (for comparison)

So, we saw how Harry describes men, specifically men he finds attractive, so, let's compare to how he describes a girl he thinks is pretty, like Cho Chang:

Harry couldn’t help noticing, nervous as he was, that she was extremely pretty. She smiled at Harry as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and he felt a slight lurch in the region of his stomach that he didn’t think had anything to do with nerves.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 259)

“Good luck, Harry!” called Cho. Harry felt himself blushing.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 304)

She was waiting for him a little to the side of the oak front doors, looking very pretty with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 556)

These are all the physical descriptions I managed to find of Cho, the girl Harry supposedly has a crush on from 3rd to 5th year... yeah, I don't see it. Sure, he mentions she's pretty, and he blushes around her, but he doesn't describe anything else about her. Not eye color, not hair color, skin color, eye shape, physique — nothing! Compare this to how he describes Bill Weasley or Blaise Zabini even, with so much more detail in their description.

Now, details in descriptions when writing from a character's POV are very important. Because a character would use more words to describe what's most important or striking to them... and in Harry's case Cho isn't it.

We know she's pretty and Harry's nervous around her, but the descriptions are just so stale and distant compared to: Tom "handsomest face in the room" Riddle, or Sirius "handsome handsomed handsomely" Black.

And I want to talk about Harry's crush on Cho more, but first:

Fleur Delacor:

I want to talk about Fleur for a bit. Because Harry's reaction to Fleur is very interesting, specifically because Fleur is a quarter veela.

Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses. “She’s a veela!” he said hoarsely to Harry.

…

many boys’ heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

(Goblet of Fire, page 252)

Veelas are literally magically attractive, if you are attracted to women, you'll find a veela woman attractive and be mesmerized. We see it with Ron and other boys, as Harry notes in the above quote. Ron and many other boys all stare, speechless at Fleur because that's how her magic works.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't affected at all. To the point, he's confused by Ron's drooling over Fleur. He later in GoF wonders why Ron wanted to go with Fleur to the Yule Ball so much, as he didn't see the appeal.

Harry is literally not attracted to a woman who is magically attractive to anyone who's attracted to women.

Looking careworn, she [Fleur] left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. “Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked. “Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then . . .”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 93)

It continues in his later interactions with Fleur, like when he arrives at the Burrow in HBP in the above quote. Harry asks Ron if he shouldn't get used to Fleur and stop drooling whenever he sees her, to which Ron responds that you do to a degree. The thing is, Harry isn't used to being around Fleur, he just arrived, after not seeing her for over a year. But still, he isn't affected at all, like in 4th year, he seems to not get what all the fuss is about.

That being said, Harry does react to the full veela in the Quidditch World Cup:

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen . . . except that they weren’t — they couldn’t be — human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind . . . but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human — in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

...

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea . . . but would it be good enough? “Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione’s voice from a long way off. The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

(Goblet of Fire, page 103)

I'm not sure exactly about the full veela's effects. Mostly because Arthur Weasley doesn't seem as affected as Harry and Ron, and Harry describes the crowd in general reacting to them, not just the men. Hermione doesn't seem affected though.

Something I want to note is that Harry only becomes affected once they start dancing, and not just by looking at them the way Ron and some of the boys are described as being with Fluer. Only when the music and dance start Harry becomes mesmerized. Before that, he is wondering how their hair moves behind them without wind... Additionally, after the music stops, Harry snaps out of it quickly, Ron on the other hand doesn't and proceeds to tear his Ireland merch.

So, while full veela, can influence him, it isn't by their appearance alone but by magic beyond their regular magical attractiveness.

Note that even with the veela, Harry barely describes anything about them. his descriptions of them aren't as detailed as his descriptions of men he finds attractive.

So even if he is attracted to women, it's very minor and barely there.

Harry's Disastrous Relationship with Cho

So, Harry and Cho... I don't think it's a pairing that has fans, but I might be wrong about that. Regardless of your opinion about it, I don't think Harry actually liked Cho. Like, at all.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Harry felt a burning desire to run from the room and, at the same time, a complete inability to move his feet. “Mistletoe,” said Cho quietly, pointing at the ceiling over his head. “Yeah,” said Harry. His mouth was very dry. “It’s probably full of nargles, though.” “What are nargles?” “No idea,” said Harry. She had moved closer. His brain seemed to have been Stunned. “You’d have to ask Loony. Luna, I mean.” Cho made a funny noise halfway between a sob and a laugh. She was even nearer him now. He could have counted the freckles on her nose. “I really like you, Harry.” He could not think. A tingling sensation was spreading throughout him, paralyzing his arms, legs, and brain. She was much too close. He could see every tear clinging to her eyelashes. . . .

(Order of the Pheonix, page 456)

Cho, the girl Harry is convinced he's crushing on since he was 13, is about to kiss him under the mistletoe, and he's thinking about nargles and Luna... And how does he feel about kissing Cho?

"a burning desire to run from the room"

He wants to run away from kissing Cho. And, well, it doesn't get any better than that.

“What kept you?” he [Ron] asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione’s. Harry did not answer. He was in a state of shock. Half of him wanted to tell Ron and Hermione what had just happened, but the other half wanted to take the secret with him to the grave. “Are you all right, Harry?” Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill. Harry gave a halfhearted shrug. In truth, he didn’t know whether he was all right or not.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 457)

He is not sure he's alright after kissing Cho. Harry thinks about kissing Cho like it's a traumatic experience... He's happier talking about Voldemort's resurrection than about his first kiss. (WTF Harry?)

Harry doesn't like Cho. Not even a bit.

“Did you kiss?” asked Hermione briskly. Ron sat up so fast that he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug. Disregarding this completely he stared avidly at Harry. “Well?” he demanded. Harry looked from Ron’s expression of mingled curiosity and hilarity to Hermione’s slight frown, and nodded. “HA!” Ron made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second years over beside the window jump. A reluctant grin spread over Harry’s face as he watched Ron rolling around on the hearthrug. Hermione gave Ron a look of deep disgust and returned to her letter. “Well?” Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. “How was it?” Harry considered for a moment. “Wet,” he said truthfully. Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell.

(Order of the Pheonix, pages 456-458)

I don't need I need to add anything here... Harry speaks for himself.

“You just had to be nice to her,” said Hermione, looking up anxiously. “You were, weren’t you?” “Well,” said Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, “I sort of — patted her on the back a bit.” Hermione looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty. “Well, I suppose it could have been worse,” she said. “Are you going to see her again?” “I’ll have to, won’t I?” said Harry. “We’ve got D.A. meetings, haven’t we?” “You know what I mean,” said Hermione impatiently. Harry said nothing. Hermione’s words opened up a whole new vista of frightening possibilities. He tried to imagine going somewhere with Cho — Hogsmeade, perhaps — and being alone with her for hours at a time. Of course, she would have been expecting him to ask her out after what had just happened. . . . The thought made his stomach clench painfully. “Oh well,” said Hermione distantly, buried in her letter once more, “you’ll have plenty of opportunities to ask her. . . .” “What if he doesn’t want to ask her?” said Ron, who had been watching Harry with an unusually shrewd expression on his face. “Don’t be silly,” said Hermione vaguely, “Harry’s liked her for ages, haven’t you, Harry?” He did not answer. Yes, he had liked Cho for ages, but whenever he had imagined a scene involving the two of them it had always featured a Cho who was enjoying herself, as opposed to a Cho who was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 460)

Okay, so I have two things to mention about this quote.

The first, Harry realizes he doesn't like Cho and probably never did. He didn't consider dating her until Hermoine mentioned it. He doesn't want to date her. He's terrified and grossed out by the notion.

This isn't a boy with a crush. I'd argue this proves he isn't straight at all. I mean, a guy who is attracted to girls, even if not crushing on Cho specifically, wouldn't be horrified to a painful degree at the thought of going on a date with a pretty girl. Or kissing a pretty girl. His reaction is just too viscerally grossed out.

The second is Ron's response. Not really related to Harry being gay, but I love Harry and Ron's friendship so I want to mention it. Hermione and a good chunk of the fandom dunk on Ron for having "the emotional range of a teaspoon", but he clearly doesn't. Ron is Harry's best friend, he knows Harry better than anyone else, yes, better than Hermione even, and this scene proves it. Hermione is flippant, ignoring Harry's responses to his kiss with Cho, just saying he should ask her out as if it's obvious.

Ron on the other hand, Ron notices Harry's expression and the turmoil thinking of dating Cho causes him. Ron is the one who speaks up that maybe Harry doesn't want to date Cho. He immediately defends Harry and his option to choose not to date Cho. (Ron would be very supportive if Harry ever came out, is what I'm saying)

They sat down at the last remaining table, which was situated in the steamy window. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, was sitting about a foot and a half away with a pretty blonde girl. They were holding hands. The sight made Harry feel uncomfortable, particularly when, looking around the tea shop, he saw that it was full of nothing but couples, all of them holding hands. Perhaps Cho would expect him to hold her hand.

…

In the time it took for their coffees to arrive, Roger Davies and his girlfriend started kissing over their sugar bowl. Harry wished they wouldn’t; he felt that Davies was setting a standard with which Cho would soon expect him to compete.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 559)

The above quotes are from Harry's disaster of a date with Cho. I think no one needs me to explain that the date went badly, but what I want to note is how uncomfortable and grossed out Harry is by the very notion of holding Cho's hands. That he'd have to kiss her again.

Like, again, even if he isn't crushing on her, a guy who's attracted to girls wouldn't be grossed out and pained at the thought of kissing or holding hands with a pretty, attractive girl.

Harry has never been attracted to Cho, and I don't think he's attracted to girls at all.

But What About Ginny?

So this post has gotten quite long already, but I don't think Harry actually likes Ginny. And I have evidence for it in the sequel to this post that is taking a while to write.

No hate for Hinny shippers, but I don't see the pairing, like, at all. I did write some of my thoughts about Hinny here until I finish with the more comprehensive post about them.

But in general, let's just say Harry never uses the word pretty (or good-looking, or nice-looking, or attractive) to describe Ginny. Ever.

And when I looked for his descriptions of her all I found were descriptions of her hair:

He felt a strange twinge of annoyance as she [Ginny] walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her

(Half-Blood Prince, page 136)

she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

(There are more descriptions of her hair in the books, but they follow the same lines as these and don't add more information)

Again, contrast these descriptions to the ones of the guys earlier. No eye color, face shape, eye shape, or descriptions of her body or clothes — nothing.

I have more to say about their relationship, but that's for another post.

#harry potter #harry potter thoughts #harry potter theory #hp theory #hollowedtheory #overthinking #hp #hp thoughts #harry james potter #hp meta #harry potter meta #harry potter analysis #anti hinny #cho chang #ginny weasley

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officialbruciewayne · 3 months ago

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Observations on Kryptonians:

Their Biology, Behavior and its Dynamic with Beauty

An anecdotal entry by Bruce T. Wayne, regarding his experiences with the Kryptonian People.

Over the course of the last century, Earth and Humanity has become aware that not only are we not alone in our universe- but that we are not alone on our world. At an undisclosed moment in our history, our homeworld became a refuge for the last children of Krypton, a world that was lost to unknown disaster.

Kryptonians are mysterious and alien, a recipe for rejection and prejudice on this planet. Not only this, but they have exceptional powers, which lure our worst impulses of greed and exploitation. We have not always treated them with kindness.

Despite our own lack of humanity, the most notable Kryptonians of our society continue to share their unique gifts and perspectives, choosing to help wherever they can.

As a Jewish man, and a Father, the legacy of the Kryptonian people, both in entrusting our world with their children, but with it, their future in the face of diaspora, humbles me.

I would like to offer my voice of support to our kin from beyond the stars. I have some personal experience with Kryptonians, and will attempt to demystify their habits and nature, to present them to you not as strangers from the skies, but as part of the infinite diversity of our world.

Not to be feared, not be used, but to be welcomed.

ברוכים הבאים לבית שלנו

Caveat on Kryptonian Powers

Most discussions of Kryptonian biology begin and typically conclude with a long list of the powers typical to Kryptonians. These powers are considerable, but are generally used to justify how they are treated. There is no value in me lingering on this much-speculated aspect of our Kryptonian kin.

Instead, I would like to discuss the lesser known traits that I have found to be personally charming.

Diurnalism and Sun-seeking

Kryptonians are naturally diurnal by nature, and are drawn to sunlight. When relaxed, they enjoy basking in our sun's warmth and when injured, or unwell, should rest in either natural sunlight, or be placed near a sunlamp.

Many Kryptonians display a tanned or dark-skinned complexion, which I found initially counterintuitive since it indicates protective melanin in Humans. In a Kryptonian, this coloration is actually indicative of stored solar radiation. In layman's terms, it's a sign of good health in your local Kryptonian.

(Art credit to @domnorian, please support the original work here, it is used here as an example)

Dentition and Diet

The intense demands of the Kryptonian body are supported by an incredibly high metabolism. Although they are primarily sustained by solar radiation, they can and do display a remarkable appetite. This energy is readily burned off by their bodies, so it should be considered offensive to shame or draw attention to how hungry a Kryptonian may appear to a Human.

Instead, attention should be paid to the variety of their diet. I have concerns that Kryptonian nutrition is not necessarily met by traditional human foods, and believe that supplements of various metals, sillica and crystalized minerals may be of great use to them. Further research is indicated, but consider they may not be fully satisfied.

This viewpoint is supported by the Kryptonian dentition, which features a diminutive but handsome set of fangs. As this is one of the more readily visible distinguishing features, some Kryptonians experience self-consciousness when smiling.

If it is of comfort to any Kryptonians reading this, Humans enjoy 'teefies' and like to remark upon the canine teeth of our companion cats and dogs. We find it 'cute'.

Ocular Notes

It has come to my attention that Kryptonian vision is more specialized for use during flight. It has great telescopic capacity, amongst its other various modes, but this can put them at a disadvantage in our society. Being so far-sighted, Kryptonians may struggle to read letters, smaller signs and newspapers without assistance.

If you see a Kryptonian puzzling over a piece of paper, and holding it at arms' length, any offers to help should be gently made. However, Kryptonians are notoriously friendly and inclined to offer help as much as receive it. You may well make a new best friend. In fact you probably will. Statistically.

A smaller note is that Kryptonian eyes- on account of the multiple facets to their vision -all appear to be a unique type of blue. This particular shade is potentially a generative emission of scattered sunlight, though it would require more detailed research and a far longer examination on my part to confirm.

They Purr

Yes, it is true. Kryptonians purr. It is a delight to listen to.

From my observations it seems readily triggered by the presence of children, or a desire to comfort others. As well as by their own contentment, whether physical, emotional and often both.

The frequency of the oscillations seem to differ between the two circumstances, supporting my current theory that this purring is both a form of communication, but separately resonant to encourage bone growth and soft tissue repair in the sick and injured.

Reproduction and Courtship

Having not conducted a relationship with a Kryptonian, I speak from a limited capacity of research. That said, to Humans looking to court Kryptonians, they appear to be receptive to forms of lip contact, and saliva exchange.

Further erogenous zones are speculative, but there is marked sensitivity along the length of the throat and just below the occipital bone.

Love

I put it to you that Kryptonians are not powerful - they are uniquely vulnerable. An endangered culture and people who have shown us compassion alone. They deserve our protection and understanding.

This is the only home they have ever known. They are not strangers from the stars, they are our friends sharing the same sunlight.

They love us. We should love them in return.

B.T.W

PS. @official-clark-kent I am no reporter, but I did enjoy trying my hand at a small thinkpiece. Perhaps we could go fishing sometime?

#I'm not an academic #but I do have opinions

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ultravioletrayz · 9 months ago

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Hiiiii since u take nsfw requests, can I get one of FEM!reader pegging Miguel? I just need to see his tight hole pounded by his sweet girl's strap for a change. Thank you!

SO yummy omg.

Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, prone bone, use of strap-on, anal (m. receiving)

Summary: you give miguel a well-deserved break

A/N: was weighing up making this mean dom or soft dom reader but opted for soft dom because migs is just a stressed little baby 🥺 (he's a 6'9, mutant adult man who could kick me so hard I fly into the sun and disintegrate)

Word Count: 831 (not proofread, probably some errors towards the end)

After a long, demanding day of work, all Miguel wanted was some kind of relief, which he immediately found in your embrace. Your touch, your scent, your smile, it all made Miguel feel at ease. Your presence allowed him to sink further into the mattress as you sit on top of his ass, your hands kneading and massaging the taut musculature of his broad shoulders. He couldn’t help the breathy moans leaving his plump lips as his muscles unravelled from their tense knots… and your hips pressed against his ass after a particularly deep thrust.

You pull your sparkly black strap-on almost all the way out so that the silicone is just kissing his puckered hole, before bottoming out once again in a slow, sensual rhythm that has Miguel mewling. His body lays flat against the bed, handsome face tucked away on top of his folded arms to muffle his pretty sounds, his heavy cock messily grinding against the plush mattress in time with your thrusts, the sheets damp and stained with cum and sweat.

“Así, mami. Se siente tan bien, tan jodidamente bien.” Miguel whimpers, lifting his hips up to meet your deep strokes with a choked whine. The sound of the lube squelching inside of his ass and both of your exasperated huffs make Miguel feel lightheaded, his renowned intellect becoming unintelligible babbling as the big dildo strapped to your stunning body stretches him out and drags against his tight walls. This moment with you, not worrying about his responsibilities or being in control, feels like heaven. Miguel has been craving a release, a way to force himself to escape the pressures of being a leader, and a protector. What better way than getting fucked by his pretty girl? (“Just like that, mommy. Feels so good, so fucking good.”)

With his fangs exposed, his claws tearing through the sheets, and throaty groans escaping from his lips, Miguel melts onto your cock. Miguel feels his stress dissipating with each thrust, your fat strap's bulbous head nuzzling his most sensitive, deepest parts and massaging his prostate. To keep Miguel somewhat grounded, you place a hand on his toned, slender waist. You also remind yourself to keep your gentle rhythm and concentrate on Miguel's pleasure, even though part of you wants to see the man who regularly spears you on his cock receive the same, deliciously rough treatment. But Miguel needs this moment of love and devotion, and you’ll do anything to remind your handsome man of your devotion to him and how proud you are of him.

“This tight hole was made for me, taking me so well,” You whisper, leaning over his wide, muscular back so that your honeyed praises still reach his fucked-out brain. “Mi niño bonito. You love my cock so much, huh, Mig?”

Miguel struggles to lift his head from his forearms, but he does so to look back at you, his handsome face covered in drool and tears as your sweet words and deep thrusts cause his eyes to roll back and he nods dumbly in response. You watch with awe and parted lips as Miguel’s hole pulses around you, causing the remnants of lube inside of him to bubble and ooze down his cheeks. It makes you giggle to see him approaching his climax once again, your hips rolling against him passionately as your hands wander across the glistening tan skin of his back, gliding your fingertips across his muscles and scars to worship his body as you make love to him.

His jaw goes slack as he moans and whines as you angle your sparkly strap-on to caress his sweet spot, the benevolence of your thrusts making him conflicted between crying and cumming. Against his own will, he chooses the latter.

Miguel desperately humps the ruffled sheets beneath him as he bucks his hips back and forth to encourage the depth of your movements, but the second your hands squeeze his waist to remind him to calm down and let you take care of him, he’s shooting thick, sticky ropes of his delicious cum into the puddle of his past loads accumulating beneath his abs, the sudden warmth against his bare skin making him whimper as his thick thighs shake and his back arches, subsequently making his ass press against the base of your strap-on.

“Sh-Shock’s sake…” Miguel pants, letting his head fall back down against his sturdy arms as you pull out of him, tapping his spasming hole with the tip of your silicone cock to beckon a few more moans from Miguel. “Gracias, mi reina. N-Needed that. Needed you to make me feel good.”

“Of course, baby. Anytime. I’m here for you.” You whisper, climbing off of Miguel and laying on your side next to him, the bedsheets squelching underneath you as Miguel’s cum spreads and darkens the material. The mess of juices was gonna be a bitch to clean up. But then again, so was the mess that is Miguel O’Hara.

I'm feeling evil and wanna post some miguel angst soon.

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heretherebedork · 4 months ago

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I'm still just caught up in how the show is clear that Fang might have a better surface relationship with his parents but he still isn't bringing Tan around or talking to them about the love of his life. Phum brings Peem over for moral support but Fang has the world of love and the world of his family kept apart. Tan is his safe space and that means keeping him safe. Keeping him apart. Keeping him as his own secret, his own safe space, his own comfort, the one place he can truly relax and simply be loved.

Fang is always the good brother, the good son, the quiet one, the understanding one... but with Tan he gets to be too much, to be upset, to act on what he wants, to ask for affection, to ask for more, to need more. Tan is the space where Fang gets to be more than the good one, gets to simply be himself.

And nothing illustrated that more then his quiet statement about missing Tan over the phone but very carefully not including him in the family dinner. Because that easily could have been the answer. But that was never a choice. Tan is not part of Fang and Phum's family. He is Fang's chosen family. And Fang needs him to stay that way.

Fang plays the part of the good son because that is his role in the family but he is holding more secrets and hiding more of himself than Phum ever has and he hides it all with Tan, in his safe space, where he can be needy and over the top and silly and loving and too much.

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aouboomseries · 5 months ago

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oh last episode when phum offered his home and his own safe space to peem to use whenever he needed comfort? and then this episode when phum had a fight with his family and immediately sought out peem’s home for comfort? and then to make phum feel better, peem brought him to the sea—the place that always calms peem down and makes him happy?

and when fang, feeling guilty about not being able to help phum, looked to tan for help? tan who assured fang that he has done his best and doesn’t have to take all of the responsibility for taking care of phum? tan who pointed out that phum has peem now, in the same way that fang has tan? fang who realized through his boyfriend’s love that your family doesn’t have to be your safe space and love can be found and grown with other people too?

phum and fang, two brothers who only ever had each other to lean on and trust for years, finally getting to experience not only being loved and cared for by other people themselves, but also getting to watch each other finally find happiness and peace.

yes i’m very normal about all of this.

#me when i think abt phum and fang finally being taken care of and loved in the way that they deserve and had always dreamed of for eachother #[static in the brain]#we are the series #we are #we are the series ep 12 #phumpeem #tanfang #pondphuwin #aouboom #mint talks #*

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

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lilac - chapter 8 + epilogue

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the walls are crashing down, and even spiderman can’t hold up an entire universe.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: smut, kidnapping, universe collapsing, torture, filming, blood, blade violence, explosions, choking, falling off a building, love confessions, major character death, start-overs

If you closed your eyes hard enough, if you flooded your senses with your deep, treasured memories and blocked out everything around you, you were able to transport yourself back into last week. Last week, when Gabriella had crashed on the couch, and you and Miguel were lying in bed with chests heaving and sweat cooling across your necks. The bedside lamp was dim; the bulb needed to be changed. Outside, the city continued to thrive, churning and burning and spitting. But inside your bedroom, your hand clasped in his, the world was still.

He had rolled you over so that you lay on top of his broad frame, but he was still inside of you, soft and flaccid now that he’d finally chased his release - after giving you yours four times. You blinked tiredly, staring at nothing as you felt one of his long, thick fingers skimming over your back.

“I’ve been thinking,” you murmured against the warm, tan skin of his shoulder.

Miguel hummed, acknowledging your words. His fingers continued to graze across your skin, up and down, up and down.

“Obviously we’re… planning on staying together. For a long time. Right?”

Though he kept his eyes closed, his thick, full lips quirked upward into a smirk, allowing the tips of his fangs to poke into view. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he rumbled from deep in his chest. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

His words stirred inside of you, like a new hope springing to life. “Well… we’re going to need to move. Someplace bigger, with more room. For all of us. And this city, Mig, it’s… it’s not safe.”

It was then that Miguel’s eyes opened, and that smile slowly disappeared from his lips. You felt your heart sink with them, like an anchor in your belly. “You’re talking about moving away?” he said. When you only lifted your head to look at him, chin resting on his sternum, he exhaled deep and moved his hand to begin carding through your hair. “I can’t leave, bebe,” he said softly. “You know why.”

Yes, you knew why. It was because he was Spiderman, and this was New York, the worst city in the country to live in. With criminals on every block and fires and shootouts and a sky so deeply and violently purple you’d never even known its true color.

Being a lover, a father, everything before and after and in between, was what made Miguel who he was. But that was only a part. That other half came from being a hero, from helping those who could not help themselves. Walking with a sense of pride in what he did, knowing that people had something to trust in.

And you knew he could never leave that.

So you swallowed thick and let the issue go. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his large, naked form, nestling your face into the soft, delicate spot where his throat met his chest. “Okay,” you said, and you felt him lean down to kiss the crown of your head. “I’d still like a bigger place, though. Your daughter can’t sleep on the couch forever.”

Miguel chuckled, wrapping a sinewy arm around your middle to keep you close while you both dozed off. “I think we can do that.”

You were suddenly brought back to the present when, behind the glass partition you were facing, the giant, hulking machinery moved a few inches before coming to a halt. The metal groaned and squealed, startling the little girl held tight against your chest. Gabriella was heavy, and your arms were beginning to grow tired, but you would hold her until the end of time, if you needed to.

The Alchemax viewing area was dim and dark in the corners of the room, illuminated only by the glow of the control panel to your right and the stark, white lights projected onto the molecular collider in the lab. It was a massive piece of machinery, built to withstand its own otherworldly power, armored and bolted to the ground should the walls and ceiling be blasted away into nothingness.

You turned slightly when the collider moved again, twisting and turning in on itself, and Gabriella released a small, pitiful cry against your shoulder. Twisting your expression into a sneer, you fixed the man at the control panel with the meanest look you could muster.

Doctor Octopus - Otto Octavius, a visionary genius turned terrorist after his mechanical arms took over his head - lifted his head slightly and let his shades slip down his crooked nose. In return to your harsh frown, he gave an apologetic expression that carried no genuinity whatsoever. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said as one of his arms reached out to flip a few switches. “Just a few test runs.”

Shifting Gabriella’s weight to your hip, you glanced down and smoothed the girl’s hair from her face. She was still wearing her jacket that she would have put on at recess - they must have been watching the school, waiting for her to emerge from those brick walls so that they could snatch her up. Suddenly you were cursing yourself, wishing you could face your reflection in a mirror and shatter the glass with a fist. You could have been there. Could have made sure she was safe, she was secure.

Her being here was your fault.

And her being here meant something that made your veins turn to ice when you thought about it; they knew who Spiderman really was.

When the collider began to shift again, shaking the building slightly in its very foundations despite being here in the basement of the building, you turned your head to face Octavius again. “What exactly are you all planning to do with this thing?” you said, watching as he shifted across the control panel to reach a few buttons and scanners. “I heard it wasn’t ready for tests yet.”

“From who, darling?” he said, meeting your eyes over the rims of his shades. “A spider on the wall?” When you said nothing, averting your eyes to the floor, he hummed and continued on, allowing his mechanical arms to carry him over to a large monitor. His gloved fingers typed faster than you thought possible for a person. “Alchemax is playing a dangerous game with a toy they don’t understand. Tests mean nothing when dealing with a piece of the future like this. That Spiderman of yours told you about the multiverse, didn’t he?”

Told you about it. Explained it. Came from it.

Octavius raised a finger and beckoned you toward him. You hesitated, holding your breath, before silently padding across the observation area to stand behind him at the monitor. Squinting your eyes against the light, you watched as he gestured to a warping, live image of string-like animations repeating in a loop on the screen. “These,” he said, finger grazing along the lines, “are realities close within one another. They’re different, sure, but only in little ways. Someone’s eyes are a different shade. A grain of sand is misplaced a foot from where it landed. Again - little ways.” He used the touchpad of the computer to scroll outward, giving you a view of so many lines warping together it looked like almost an entirely colored screen. “And these are the realities within our grasp with the collider. Meaning -” he looked down at you - “every reality in the multiverse.”

You stared at the screen, hugging Gabriella to yourself tightly. One of those lines was Miguel’s reality. Where he was supposed to be.

As Octavius scrolled back in, you caught a glimpse of a line flickering and glitching, unlike the others. You stopped him. “That one,” you said, and he halted. “What’s that one?”

“Earth - 9193,” he said, his voice low and grave. He met your eyes, his gaze darker than it was just a moment ago. “Our home universe.” He gave a rather rueful smile as he watched your expression melt into one of confusion. “In our reality,” he explained as his mechanical arms set him - finally - on the ground, “there is no Spiderman. This city - it’s not supposed to get better. So imagine the universe’s bafflement when Spiderman from a different reality swoops in to save the day. It tries to expel him. Tries to correct canon events gone wrong. But it couldn’t. And so - it’s collapsing.”

“Collapsing?”

“Correct.” He paused and you both looked up when, overhead, there came a distant boom; the city falling apart at the seams. The building shook again and dust fell from the ceiling. To your surprise, he lifted one of his arms and shielded your head as it bounced off your shoulders and clung to your hair. “Call us selfish,” he said and lowered his arm again. “But my associates and I aren’t particularly fond of sticking around when the end comes around.”

You blinked a few times at the screen, feeling your heart skip a beat or twelve as you let his words sink in. Your universe - it was collapsing. That was what the glitches in the city had been. That was why Miguel’s apartment building had folded in on itself - it was because of him. No matter where he went, the glitches followed.

Because he was a virus here in your reality, and when viruses could not be expelled, the system would ultimately kill itself.

You clutched the little girl in your arms a bit tighter. “You’re… running away,” you murmured as Octavius fiddled with the monitor and its data. “You’re leaving us all here to die.” The words were barely able to clear your throat, barely able to keep themselves afloat.

He hummed in that way you noticed he did. “Running away wouldn’t be the correct term,” he replied. “Moreso… self-preserving.”

At that moment, the doors leading into the observation area were thrown open on their hinges to reveal the figures you had come to fear striding into the bay. You took three steps back as the Prowler slid down a railing and came to a smooth landing at Octavius’ side. “How are we looking, Doc?” he said as his purple, eye-lit mask dematerialized to reveal his face. His gaze was a touch crazier than you remembered it, bold and wild in a way that screamed danger.

Octavius’ cold, stony facade slid back into place as he adjusted his shades and rose, his mechanical arms lifting him off the ground. “Swimmingly,” he replied. “A few more tests, and she should be ready for lift off.”

“Perfect!” shouted Ferris abruptly, causing you to jump slightly. He clapped his hands and approached you as, behind him, Kraven hefted a news broadcasting camera onto his shoulder and began to fiddle with the settings. “Sorry to keep you waiting, babe,” said your ex as he approached you, taking two steps forward when you took one back. He showed off a disturbing, unnatural smile. “Had some loose ends to tie up.”

You sneered at him and turned, placing yourself between him and Gabriella. “You’re fucking insane, Ferris,” you hissed, inches from his sickening grin. “Taking me is one thing, but a kid? You’ve lost it, for real this time.”

“Big words, coming from you,” he said, tilting his head as the collider twisted and churned again. “Shacking up with a vigilante who crossed realities to dick you down.” He snickered to himself. “Listen, babe. That day when Spiderman - sorry, O’Hara - cracked my spine and broke my jaw and left me to suffer in that fucking alley, I realized something; why stick around in a dump like this when I can make like your little fuck buddy and squeeze myself into another dimension? Hell, why do I need you when I can just find another one of you who won’t screw me over?

“So I managed to get myself up. Crossed paths with these guys, told them…” He brought his lips close to your ear, so close you felt his breath fan across your skin. “I knew the identity of Spiderman.” He grinned again, drew back slightly to touch his forehead against yours. You would have smacked him, shoved him away, were you not still shielding the little girl in your arms. “I would say it’s not personal, babe,” he whispered. “But it is.”

Then his lips were smashed against yours, so roughly and ruthlessly you were flashed back to when you still lived with him, let him touch you, let him fuck you. He would always kiss you like this, like he possessed you, like he owned you. It only lasted a moment or two before he pulled back, forcefully plucked Gabriella from your arms, and handed her off to the Vulture, who was standing beside Octavius.

“Alright, boys,” he said as his mask materialized back over his face. “Let’s make a movie!”

Taking a few steps closer and backing you up against the glass partition of the observation area, Kraven hoisted the camera up and pointed it directly at you and Ferris. You found yourself frozen in place, petrified and staring back at your own reflection in the lens. His clawed hand came up to grip the back of your neck, and the other clapped over your mouth.

“Stick to the script,” he murmured in your ear, “and I’ll let the kid live.”

“Broadcasting to every system in New York,” said the hunter, then clicked a button and the camera and a light near the top flashed red. “...Now.”

Unbeknownst to you, across every screen in the city - televisions, phones, Times Square, everything - the broadcast crackled through and began to stream. There was not a soul in New York that was not watching.

Not one.

Ferris tilted his head at the camera in a way that made your stomach churn. Even behind his mask, you knew he was smirking and squinting his eyes in that way he did when he was playing coy. “Hello, Spiderman,” he said in a low, even voice. It sent chills crawling up your spine, made you struggle in his hold until his claws dug against your skin. “You and I have unfinished business, and it would be rude to leave hanging in the air - you know, before we both jump ship. You know where I am.” Behind you, the collider moved, and this time, it did not stop. A blast of energy exploded from the edge, shaking the building again. You stumbled slightly, raising a hand to clasp at his wrist over your mouth. “And just in case you need some incentive…”

You let out a small shriek when Ferris ripped you forward, sending you spinning around to face the camera. Before you could get anything out, he came up behind you like a vengeful apparition and grabbed your jaw, his claws digging into the soft skin of your cheeks. “Go on,” he murmured in your ear, just loud enough for the camera to pick up. “Cry for help. Cry for him.”

Against every ounce of willpower you had, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, you felt tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Just a moment later, they spilled over, cascading down your cheeks and staining the fabric of his glove. Yet despite your tears, despite the silent sobs racking your body, you refused to speak.

Ferris dug his claws into your cheek further, drawing a few dots of blood and pinpricks of searing pain. “Come on,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. “Beg for him.”

Your eyes turned behind the camera, where the Vulture held Gabriella’s collar in a grip tight enough to pale his knuckles. She stood beside him like a confused puppy, tear tracks staining her face as she watched you. And you knew you couldn’t do this alone. Not with her here. Not with Ferris.

“Spiderman,” you breathed, then cried out when Ferris yanked your hair to expose your neck and poise a claw over your throat. It gleamed in the light that the collider was throwing about the lab, shaking and burning out energy.

“Ah-ah,” he tutted. “His real name.”

You didn’t have time to mull over the realization that you were going to expose his identity, didn’t have time to think about that, really, it wouldn’t matter, because your reality was tearing apart, anyway. Blood collected on your cheek where his claws dipped in, and pain seared through your face.

“Miguel!” you finally wailed, feeling your tears mix with the scarlet. “Mig, we need you - please! He has Gabriella. I need you, please, Mig, I need you!”

With a grunt, Ferris spun you to the ground, then stalked forward and grasped the camera by the lens. “Come and get your girls, O’Hara. Alchemax. You have until the universe collapses. Or, you know…” He trailed off as his mask tilted downward toward you. “I decide to let one of them go a little early.”

You found yourself sitting against the row of desks holding computers, cradling Gabriella to your side as you watched Ferris and the rest of the vigilantes watch the collider charge, murmuring amongst themselves. You heard the words ‘sensors’ and ‘turrets’ and ‘muzzle for those teeth’ and ‘dead before he hits the ground.’ They had planned for Miguel, were waiting for him.

Gabriella murmured your name - the first thing she’d uttered since you both had been brought here - and you at once looked down. She clutched onto your dress, her cheeks stained with tear tracks and her chest rising and caving with deep, panicked breaths. “Is Daddy going to come and save us?” she whispered.

Doing your best to shove down the dread, and sorrow, and grief hanging suspended in your throat, you put on your best wobbling, warped smile and brushed her hair back from her face. “Yeah, sweetheart,” you replied quietly, just barely audible over the sounds of the collider. You sniffled, holding her closer. “He’ll be here any minute.”

It couldn’t have been just a few minutes later when, from the corner of your eye, you saw one of the computer screens jump to life. You thought it to be chance, a touchpad disturbed by the constant shaking and rattling of the building, but then images began to flash across the screen. You turned your head and realized they weren’t images, but letters. Words - being typed out across the monitor.

Letter by letter, your name was spelled out. The cursor blinked for a moment before everything was deleted. Then -

H E R E.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned forward. The word was typed again, this time in bold. Then in italics. The computer - no, someone behind it - was beckoning you forward. With a few words of reassuring nonsense in Gabriella’s ear, and a quick glance to make sure the men were still distracted, you crawled on your hands and knees along the row of computers. Sitting up on your heels, you faced the dim screen.

Hesitantly, you whispered, “Hello?”

The word disappeared, soon replaced by another. L Y L A.

Lyla - Miguel’s AI. A surge of hope flooded through you like a tidal wave, filling your veins, your heart, your soul.

H E I S C O M I N G.

You exhaled, blinking at the screen. Then -

D U C K.

Your body reacted before your mind even had a chance to catch up. The entire world seemed to move in slow motion as you scrambled to your feet, grabbed Gabriella and huddled behind the desk - just moments before the back wall blew outwards in a ground-shaking eruption. The glass partition shattered and the collider shrieked as debris rained upon the observation area like hail from a hellstorm. A chunk of rock sliced across your cheek, letting pain rip through your face and blood spill down your face.

Like a train unable, unwilling to stop, to keep from plowing into the first thing it saw, a flash of red and blue came tearing from the site of the explosion and collided with the purple figure of the Prowler as he struggled to his feet. They went sprawling across the rubble-covered deck, only separated when a mechanical arm grabbed the back of Spiderman’s leg and hurled him across the room.

He caught himself and landed in a striking pose - then his mask dematerialized, and Miguel’s scarlet eyes raised to the men before him. He opened his mouth, exposing those long, glinting teeth, and released an animalistic snarl that froze the blood in your veins. His hair was mussed and the lines beneath his eyes seemed deeper than before. His hands, his claws, practically trembled with the rage and fury radiating off of him in waves. In that moment he was truly more beast than man.

You shielded Gabriella’s eyes as he snapped, standing again to his full height.

“About time,” said Ferris behind his mask, then readied his own steel claws. “Let’s settle this once and for all - Spiderman.”

The next few moments were blurs of violence, of villains with metal limbs and wings and a thirst for blood all came down to assault Miguel where he stood. He was a whirlwind of action, taking blows and giving them back in a tempo you knew was not humanly possible. His teeth sank into skin. His claws tore through muscle. He roared and thrashed and fought for everything he had, because life outside may have been falling apart, but his entire life was right there inside that observation bay.

Bits of light poking through the still-settling dust from the explosion drew your eye away from the nauseating fight, pulling your attention to the place where the door used to be. Flickering from the corridor - the exit.

Gripping Gabriella’s hand so tight you knew it ached, but you didn’t care, you brought your face close to hers so that she could look into your eyes. Blood still seeped down your cheek, now staining your collar and your neck. “Listen to me,” you said to her, just audible over the sound of her father snapping one of the Vulture’s wings in half. “We’re going to run, okay? And we’re not going to look back. You hold my hand and don’t let go. Just like we practiced with the drills at school, alright?”

She nodded her head, and then you were off. You ducked your head as a piece of technology sailed past, tugging the little girl along over rubble and through the shattered doorway. From there you took the first stairwell you found, listening as the sounds of the battle grew more and more faint. Up and up you went, until you reached a heavy metal door that you shoved open with all your might. Gusts of wind rushed in to greet you, whipping your dress skirt about, whispering about your fate in your ears, and when you reached the roof, it seemed that, really, they were right.

New York was no longer recognizable. It had turned into a hellsite of glitches and chaos, entire streets folding in on themselves before completely vanishing. You nearly screamed upon realizing Harlem, Queens, Brooklyn… they were all gone. From this height you could see past where the river was supposed to be, but instead it was all… nothing. There lay a vast, wide nothingness, like a blank canvas. No ground. No buildings. No people. Everything, just… erased from existence.

Panic rose in your throat like bile, pulling you to your knees and fresh tears to your eyes. It was all true - your reality was collapsing in on itself. All those people, gone. And soon, you would be, too.

It was a long moment before you realized Gabriella was tugging on your hand, attempting to pull you further along the roof as she kept her terrified gaze trained on the door to the roof - until it was too late. You both shrieked as the Prowler emerged from the frame, his suit ragged and torn, stained with blood and his mask vanished. Scarlet ran down his face, same as yours, as he approached you on the roof.

“You want to know something funny, babe?” he said. The last word, that awful pet name, was rasped through clenched teeth as he stalked you, taking his time even as you scrambled to the edge of the building, because you both knew - you had nowhere to go. “I wasn’t really going to kill you in that alley. Just wanted to scare you, ‘ya know?” His face dropped. “Now I really wish I had.”

In a moment, Ferris had pounced, rolling you over and over yourself on the roof of Alchemax, his clawed hands tight around your throat and his knees on either side of your waist. No matter how much you struggled, how much you kicked and screamed and wailed and bucked, he refused to let go.

How ironic, came a quiet, barely-there voice. Even while it dies, the universe is attempting to fix itself.

As tears blurred your vision, you shifted your gaze to Gabriella, who watched the life being strangled from you with wide, petrified eyes. To Gabriella, who suddenly clutched at her stomach, her lips parting. To Gabriella, who, slowly, like a channel stuck on a loop slowly fading out, began to dissolve into a reality-splitting glitch.

To Gabriella, who was there one moment, and gone the next.

For a moment, you stopped your struggling. You stopped trying to grasp at Ferris’ own throat, stopped your kicking and howling. You just lay there, feeling the life drain from you slowly, staring at the spot that little girl had been just seconds ago.

You would have cried, could you have breathed. You would have screamed, could you have breathed.

You would have died inside - could you have breathed.

“Isn’t this romantic?” panted Ferris over you as his hands tightened their grip on your throat. “The two of us, going out together? Like we were always meant to?”

You knew he would have killed you then and there, had you both not heard the thundering, storming, ground-shaking thuds pounding up the stairs leading to the roof. Footsteps. A body being slammed into the walls as they ran. An ear-splitting, heart-skipping roar of your name.

Ferris let out a long, trembling, exasperated groan before he yanked you up by the neck, hauled you over to the edge of the building, and held you out like a lure over a lake. Your hands, your nails, scrabbled at his wrist as you looked down the best you could, watching as people stories and stories below scrambled for cover before glitching out of existence. Your legs dangled, your hair blew in the wind.

This was it. This was how you bit it. Not from strangulation or being winked out of your reality - but from a drop that would hit you before you knew what had happened.

Slamming out onto the porch in a frenzy of raw, untamed, wild fury, Miguel skidded to a stop and began to lunge at the Prowler - before he laid eyes upon your form at the end of his arm. His gaze searched wildly for his daughter, for his Gabriella, before it met yours. Before it took in the tears spilling down your face.

“Don’t you see what you’ve done to us, O’Hara?!” said Ferris, flexing his fingers around the column of your neck - the only thing keeping you from plummeting. “What you’ve done to our world?! Can’t you just leave us this last bit of ourselves before we all kick it? Can’t you just leave us alone?”

Miguel began to pace on the rooftop, edging closer and closer with each step. “I can offer you a bargain,” he said, but his voice came out more snarl than word. “Give her to me and I send you home. To a different home, one just like this. You’ll never know the difference.” His tone dropped. “You’ll think you’re in the real thing.”

Your legs were beginning to go numb, your fingers clawing at Ferris’ wrist losing feeling. One hand dropped to your side.

Ferris shook his head, sneering at him with all the hatred left in this collapsing, dying universe. “You already took my world,” he said. “So I’ll take away yours.”

And suddenly you were falling. Released from his grasp, because in the split moment after he let you go, his body glitched and jumped and disappeared. But you were still there, plummeting toward what remained of the earth below you.

You didn’t think it would be so fast.

Craning your neck against the wind screaming in your ears, against the sight of the Alchemax building beginning to crumble as it, too, succumbed to the fate of all else, you watched as that familiar suit of red and blue jumped off after you. Extended his arm. Released a web that, you thought, wouldn’t get there in time.

But it did. The webbing clung to your chest, pulled taut, buoyed you like a bungee cord as Miguel stuck himself to the side of the building that was still standing. He slowly lowered you to the ground, then began the descent himself.

You stood. Extended a hand to him as he raced toward you.

Then fell as you lost the feeling in your legs, lost what it was to be still.

Miguel caught you before you hit the ground, skidding to his knees and gracefully pulling you into a cradle in his lap. “Hey, baby, hey,” he said in a strained, strangled voice. Red stained his temple, the crooked bridge of his nose. “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

You realized then that you were crying again, letting sobs and wails rack your body, because you knew what was happening. You knew it because everything else of this world, of this reality, had vanished. Ceased to exist. It was just him, and you, and the sky overhead. Nothing else. And soon, you would be gone, too.

“Miguel,” you gasped, reaching up a shaky hand to paw at the side of his face. “Gabriella - I tried. I really, really tried, I’m sorry -”

“Shh, baby, I know. I know you did.” Through the wetness in your eyes, through the sensation of your lower portion becoming static and fuzz, you watched as tears pricked at his own eyes. They trickled from the corners, mixing with the grime and blood on his face, and he did not wipe them away. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You cried and clung to him, desperate to hold onto the feeling of him. Of his hand cradling the back of your neck. Of his lips against yours. Of his body on your own. Of his laughter against your skin, and his fingers trailing across your back, and the warmth that spread through your chest when he smiled at you.

God, that smile. What you wouldn’t do to see it again.

“I don’t want to die, Mig,” you said, your voice wavering. You’d forgotten the feeling of your waist, of your belly. They were foreign to you. Glitched out. Going. Gone.

You did not jump when Miguel opened his mouth and released a stifled sob, his warm, salty tears dripping onto your face. “I know,” he shushed you through his own cries. “It’s going to be okay, alright? I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.”

Arms dropped. Your chest stilled.

“Hey,” you said, nudging your nose against his when he leaned down to press his lips against your temple. He met your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours. “Look.” Your gaze tilted upward, upward, to the sky. He followed it. “No smoke.”

You were right. Without the buildings to churn out smog, without the people to feed the machines, without the universe to choke itself out… the sky had cleared. And it was not violet, or plum.

It was lilac.

Miguel dipped his head again, his lips quivering as you stared up at him. “I love you,” he said.

You would have said it back - were you not already gone.

He stared at his now-empty arms, eyes trained on the spot beneath him you had just been. There was no trace left. Nothing left behind, nothing to tell him you had even been there.

For a long, long moment, Miguel sat still, his chest heaving and his eyes wide and his lips parted. Then he dropped to all fours, shoulders shaking and knuckling the ground, and opened his mouth to scream. It was a wail heard in every corner of the empty universe, a cry that shattered everything of the nothing left. Filled with agony, and grief, and horror, and guilt. Again and again he screamed, fangs glinting and tears gleaming and throat hoarse.

When he at last could not take any more, he collapsed onto his side. Hands twitching. Chest shaking.

Nothing.

For a long while in that empty universe, it was still. Silent. Lilac.

Then, from behind Miguel, there came a voice. “Hey, boss,” said Lyla gently. “Ready to go home?”

—

Earth - 2943

New York

Roses, peonies, lilacs, irises… the bundles of flowers crowded your workstation at the back of your store like a wildflower field had grown right in the middle of the little shop on seventy-first. Greens and pinks and yellows and oranges filled your windows. Petals littered the floor like a chapel. Living walls carefully and lovingly-kept occupied the sides, a rainbow display of every flower and blossom one could name.

Your little flower shop was doing well - and you couldn’t have been more proud. You lived alone in your apartment just upstairs, your rent was on time, you didn’t have to work a second job at all to keep yourself fed.

Everything was perfect. As it should have been.

Your attention was drawn to the front of the store when the little bell above it chimed, signaling someone had just entered your shop. “One second!” you called around the corner, hurrying to clip off the remaining thorns from the blossoms. “I’ll be right there!”

When you were finished, you wiped your hands off on your apron, gathered the bunch of flowers up in your arms, and swept around to the front room. There, a man and a little girl - his daughter, no doubt, they looked almost identical - stood admiring the displays you’d set out just last night.

“Good morning!” you greeted them, carefully setting the bundle down. “Can I help you find anything?”

Brushing a bit of hair from your face, you were able to see the man more clearly. Your breath hitched in your throat; you were staring at the one of the best looking men you’d ever seen. Tan skin and cheekbones placed high on his face, full brows and lips, a sinewy body and a tapered waist… he was beautiful.

The man smiled at you - with his lips closed, but nevertheless it was gorgeous - and jutted out his hip to place his hand on. Oh, fuck, that was hot. “Just browsing,” he said kindly.

You found yourself unable to pull your gaze away from him. You could not say precisely what it was, but there was something that drew you to him. Like a magnet between walls, almost, yearning and needing to be closer.

When he realized you were staring, he smiled wider.

“Heh - sorry,” you said, shaking your head. You leaned over your counter as he meandered closer, letting his daughter marvel at your flowers. Up close, you were able to see the tired, exhausted lines beneath his eyes. “It’s just… have we met before? There’s just something about you…”

Unbeknownst to you, because he could never let you know, could never let you go… you had met before. In a different universe. In seven, to be precise. He had met you as a teacher, a stripper, a doctor, a thief, a hero, a villain… He’d seen you in every form your soul had to offer. And he would continue to do so. Because he wasn’t going to let you go.

Not then. Not now. Not ever.

He chuckled, his free hand reaching up to touch the delicate skin of his throat. “No, I don’t think so. First time in here.” He tilted his head, smiled at you. “But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better.” Then, like every other time before, and every other time that would come after, he stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Miguel. You are?”

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood @jenniferdixon05207 @moonchild-cupcake @venomous-ko @marvelouslovely-barnes @syarblu @fruitcupsworld @soooooyesbutactually-no @hopefulcandywitch @elwyn7 @oh-theseus @thepanwiccan @takayomi @dreamingofbucky @yuuuumii @p1nkliquor @scammer-get-scammed @mlishe

#miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara across the spiderverse #miguel atsv #atsv #atsv x you #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel o’hara atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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darkmajesty-xo · 2 years ago

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18+ mdni | tw! monsterfucking, fae!izuku, dubcon, smut 𓂺

the veil between worlds is thinnest at years end, permitting traveling between realms. when you wished for adventure and excitement in the new year, you never expected to stumble into a new world. a beautiful grove with exotic wildlife and gorgeous vegetation. and you most certainly didn’t expect to have a spear pointed directly in your face.

“oh! you’re a human?”

Viridescent wings protruding from his back and pointed ears confirmed that he wasn’t.

The freakishly tall stranger drove his weapon into the ground before extending his scarred hand to help you up. Now, standing toe to toe, you got a better look at him.

He was beautiful. Lush leafy locs curled around his tanned face that was lined with emerald markings along his jawline. His verdant eyes resembled the groves budding flowers. The man had plump pink lips that curled into a breathtaking smile, revealing silver tipped fangs, and pretty freckles decorated his cheeks and bare torso.

He wore golden cuffs around his large biceps and a leather holster across his body that held multiple daggers, all varying in size. His lower half was covered with airy trousers that couldn’t have provided much protection from the breezy night air and his feet were bare.

“i— yes?”

“is that a question?”

He smirked a little. Then crossed his palms over the base of his spear to rest his cheek as he watched you.

You looked good— soft and pretty, but you smelled even better. It was an intoxicating scent that teased his budding frenzy.

“Are you not human ?” You ask, more confidently this time. He shakes his head “no” continuing to smirk at you. It was unnerving, especially with his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “Well..” you pause, not wanting to offend but still rather curious. “What are you?”

“I’m Izuku” he giggled, eyes glinting with mischief. “But you can call me whatever you’d like, pet”.

Your captor's name was Izuku Midoriya, and he is a faerie. A faerie warrior to be exact. He is the Fae King’s second in command and best friend, and he was only away from the palace due to his frenzy.

A frenzy is period in which a fae is overcome with extreme lust and the desire to breed. Primal instincts take over during this time and he prefers to spend them in solitude to avoid scandal.

This forest is his territory and personal haven granted to him by the royal family. Everything in it belongs to him, including you.

It wasn’t like Izuku to lay claim to another person, but it wasn’t every day that a human tumbles into his domain. He found you fascinating and the bourgeoning call to mate was impacting his lucidity.

He brought you to his forest den— a place where he went whenever he needed to convene with nature. As a forest faerie it was vital to his wellbeing. It was a large cave hidden behind a waterfall. A grand fire pit sat in the middle of the room surrounded by animal furs and soft pillows. There were bookshelves and chests filled with valuables and weapons against the walls as well as a wooden desk covered in notes.

He moved around the cavern pulling off his accessories at a languid pace, his large wings fluttering gracefully behind him leaving a trail of sparkly dust. He muttered casually about the messy state of things but you caught him watching you out the corner of his eye. It was like he was waiting for something.

“Are you cold, pet?” His arms circled your waist, pulling you against his broad chest. The impact made a flurry of sparkles tickle your nostrils, you inhaled deeply and felt yourself sway. “I’ve read that humans are more sensitive to climate than we fae. Here, lie by the fire”.

He moved your body like a doll, easily picking you up to place on a pile of pillows. He laid beside you, one hand trailing up to rest on your hip while his head rested on the other.

He spoke in soft whispers for a few minutes, occasionally sitting up to stretch his wings.

It was getting hard to focus. The rhythmic flutter of his wings paired with his hypnotic voice was putting you in a strange state.

“How do you feel, little one ?”

He was hovering above you, wings outstretched with a sinister smile. With the fire to his back, he looked like an avenging angel, or maybe a demon. But, in your dazed state all you could say was “pretty” and reach for his sparkly wings. They felt like silk. When you pulled away, a layer of dust coated your fingers. Without a second thought, you brought them to your mouth and moaned.

His pupils expanded, completely shrouding his eyes in black.

“That’s a good girl. So smart.” He cooed, leaning down to cup your cheek and press his lips against yours. His kiss burned. Leaving you dizzy and reeling. It felt like your body was on fire, set ablaze by Izuku’s passion.

“A bit warm, my pet?” He smirked against your skin, kissing across your jawline. “Why don’t we take these off, hmm?” He nibbled on your ear, drawing breathy moans from your throat as he removed your clothes. Your body grew hotter with each graze of his fingers. By the time you were fully nude, the heat in your core was so intense that you could only whine his name.

“izuku”

“say it again”

“izuku”

“again”

“izuku”

“once more, my love”.

“izu~~”

He pushed in slowly. Yes, the effects of his faerie dust was more than enough to prepare you for his length. But you were so small compared to him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

Even though his primal instincts screamed at him to ruin you. MATE. BREED. FUCK. Was running on a constant loop in his mind. His hips still rolled against yours slowly. He wrapped your legs around his waist to burrow in deeper. His tip kissed that spongey spot in your slippery pussy. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips, bullying its way inside to taste your mouth. Your hands flew to his curly hair, drawing a grunt and sharp thrust from your enchanting lover. Your cunt spasmed around him. He bit your shoulder to conceal his own moans. Blood pooled in the hollow of your neck and he lowered his head to lap it up. His wings flapped wildly, throwing more dust in the air. His veiny cock pulsed against your velveteen wall, pushing against your cervix to rest against your womb. Izuku pulled away to watch where the two of you were connected. A thick creamy ring formed at the base of his cock with hearty thrust. Arousal poured from you weeping hole resulting in a lewd squelch that echoed against the walls. He pursed his lips allowing a glob of saliva to land directly on your sticky clit. The pads of his thumb worked the swollen bud until you were trembling beneath him. Your sweet cunny clenched tightly around him; it was almost hard to move. Izuku squeezed the base of his cock to stave off his impending orgasm. He wasn't ready to stop fucking you yet.

There was no need to rush, you’d be together forever.

His perfect little pet.

@xogabbiexo , @chaichaiiskai & @hentyehottie y’all better come get one of these.

#happy new year #ya filthy animals #izuku midoryia smut #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya imagine #izuku x reader #izuku x black!reader #deku smut #deku x chubby reader #deku x blackreader #Deku x black reader #izuku x chubby reader #mha smut #mha x reader #mha x blackreader #mha x chubby reader

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calciumcryptid · 4 months ago

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Here is a collection of my thoughts about We Are ships sex lives because I, an asexual, have them for some reason and need to get them out- (What is We Are doing to me?)

TANFANG

According to novel fans, Tan is the top and Fang is a power bottom; however, the show implies Fang is the top. This means the correct answer is they are switches, but we knew that.

Tan loves to get romantic with Fang. Rose petals, scented candles, whether in the bathroom or in the bedroom Tan commits to the most tender of sex. It is canon Tan does the come hither motion, and as much as Fang puts up a fight he adores it.

Though some days Fang gets into his head about the balance of their relationship and encourages Tan to take. Sometimes, Fang just wants Tan to use his dick like a joystick, and Tan is more than happy to jump into his lap.

Their relationship started from mutual punching, and their canon (implied) sex scene has them wrestling. Therefore, they are the roughest couple in bed. They absolutely have a mutual marking kink shown through hickies and flat-out bites. Some flavor of BDSM, though they (or any of the couples) aren't hardcore with it.

Aftercare game is strong with these two, and they preen at being the one to take care of the other with their mutual taking care of each other kink.

QTOEY

They have sex but in a very (demi)aro(demi)ace way if that makes sense? They have a code in their phone for when one of them is horny and it is "Draw me like one of your Thai boys" (Toey came up with it, Q couldn't think of anything better).

When they do have sex in their own private enclosure and not in Peem's childhood home, it is very artistic. Q has painted Toey's nudes (the only nudes of his boyfriend he has), and he hung it up in their bedroom (fortunately, they aren't the hangout house so they don't have to mad dash to hide it). Q has painted Toey's skin as foreplay, change my mind (you can't).

Before the nudes were painted, Q joked Toey should get dolled up for it and something inside Toey pinged. Since then, Q will teasingly call Teoy "doll" alongside his usual "muse". Their closet has a section dedicated to lingerie (honestly, most of the time they don't even fuck in them. Q just likes drawing and painting tasteful nudes of his boyfriend, and Toey likes being Q's model).

Regardless, the actual action is full of reverence and body worship and Q insists on fucking Toey in natural light because it makes him look more gorgeous than he already is. They have the weakest aftercare game, but considering the couples they're up against it isn't a surprise. Most points are deducted for Q vowing to never paint Toey again as he scrubs his boyfriend's skin. Toey giggles knowing he'll convince Q otherwise.

PHUMPEEM

It doesn't matter what the novel/series says, Phum is a bottom. He wants to be in Peem's lap and monopolize all his attention. Riding is his favorite sex position. The man wants to be railed by his hot artist boyfriend, and can we blame him? (Peem really likes it when Phum is on his back because Phum's hair is a national treasure.)

They do have some pet play going on. It isn't super hardcore, but it is there. After all, Peem canonically calls Phum "puppy" and I think Phum should get to call Peem "kitten" (turnabout is fair play).

There is a reason I placed PhumPeem's section after QToey, and it is because Phum was the person Toey asked to go lingerie shopping with him (lets be real, Toey is not going on his own the first time and Phum is the least embarrassing option). Phum comes home with a few things of his own, and Peem is relentless with the pillow princess teasing as he rails his boyfriend.

PhumPeem are tied with TanFang on best aftercare game, because both couples have a mutual taking care of each other kink.

Oh, right, they have sex on the beach at some point. Also, they are known for fucking in any body of water they can (which wasn't what Peem meant by the water being his safe place, but he's not arguing).

CHAINPUN

They are the kinkiest couple here.

They may not be the most consistently kinky, but they are the most varied. All Pun has to do is bat his eyelashes at Chain, and Chain will indulge Pun in his latest fantasy. Out of all of them, they are the most likely to commit to actual roleplay scenarios. The most often one, of course, being a doctor one (though Chain will make sure to remind Pun he isn't that type of doctor). It doesn't matter though because Pun finds him immensely sexy in the coat.

Although they do get up to roleplay, sometimes Chain wants to spend his time adoring Pun. The body worship is off the charts with these two, and Chain makes sure to love and worship every inch of Pun. Pun loves it, and preens under the adoration though Chain can be torturous in his foreplay.

Soft top Chain, but we all know that.

Honestly, there isn't a couple in We Are that doesn't go all out for aftercare. ChainPuns includes cuddling and snuggling under the covers, and Chain ensures Pun is fed.

#tanfang #phumpeem #qtoey #chainpun #we are series #we are the series #oh fuck i have to tag this appropriately uh-#suggestive #i genuinely dont know how to tag this so advice is welcomed #lowkey scared to post this it is very atypical from my usual work

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mariel-g · 1 year ago

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Stuck In Your Web

Switch! Miguel O’Hara x Switch Spiderwoman! Reader

Pretty much I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be dommed by Miguel or Dom him so I made it so that we could do both in one fic.

warnings: 18+, poorly translated spanish, not proofread, pure filth

Miguel should’ve been more careful; his arrogance is what led him to the position he is in now. 8 hours ago he appeared in your dimension, thinking that hunting down and subduing an amateur Spiderwoman anomaly would be an easy run of the mill task.

When you think back to the careless confidence he showed before you knocked him out, you can’t help but snicker.

Right now, his limbs are imbedded in a large spider’s web that is sustained by the four corners of a roof on a random building on Your Earth.

His wavy brown hair is dishevelled, and his suit is torn in multiple places, the tanned skin underneath flushed and shivering as another orgasm afflicts his body.

You coo from your place above him, your hand gently pumping his cock as it pulsates in your palm. It must’ve been the third time in the past hour.

“You’re such a good boy, giving me all this cum.”

He moans shamefully, his head lolling to the side as his pretty eyelashes flutter close.

You run your thumb over his cock and slit, soaking your thumb with his milk before bringing it to your mouth, revelling in the tangy sweetness of him.

“I know you’re tired baby, but just one last time,” you say as you lean over his body to roughly capture his lips with your own, allowing him to taste how good he is on your tongue.

“Por favor, no puedo mas,” he murmurs desperately.

His abs tense as you return your hand to his aching cock, lightly stroking and teasing the appendage as you press kisses on the exposed areas on his abdomen and chest.

Your eyes train on him as he groans, whimpers, and moans once again. The webs pulling tight over his arms and thighs as his muscles bunch in an attempt to escape from the overstimulation.

“It’s so cute when you try to resist Miggy, it just makes watching you fall apart more satisfying.”

He growls at the nickname, his jaws snapping at you as his fangs extend and red colours his eyes. “When will you let me free?” He snarls.

“Hm…” You tap a finger against your chin in mock contemplation. “Whenever I want to!”

You cut off his sarcastic reply by sinking your mouth down his length, enjoying the way his voice cracks into a whimper.

Slowly his hips begin to gyrate, the soft sounds of his moans and whimpers getting louder and more insistent as he fucks into your mouth.

“Yes…” He moans breathily, his hips rolling in a way that makes his waist look utterly divine. You release his cock from your mouth and crawl over him, his red puffy lips and fucked out face staring up at you from his thick lashes as his hips struggle to buck up into nothing.

“You want me to fuck you boss man? Make you my perfect sex doll?” You murmur, gently threading your fingers through his hair before tightly gripping at the soft strands. “Tell me if you want it.”

He stays silent for a few beats as his body writhes underneath you. “I want it,” he whispers.

You grin at him before dropping down on his cock, engulfing him entirely in one go. He gasps and an obscene moan tears from your throat from how deep he is. You grind on him a bit, trying to get used to his size.

“You’re already so wet,” he rasps, his back arching as you take him from root to tip. “Sucking me in so good,” he moans.

The webs start to draw blood as he struggles to grab your hips. You press down on his chest and move up and down on him faster, your moans now match his as your pelvises slam against each other, Miguel’s hips picking up a desperate pace as he fucks into you.

“Please Mami, ‘m needa cum,” he slurs, his voice heavy with his native Spanish accent and delirious from the feeling of your cunt.

“Mhm, I’ll give you what you need Miggy,” you say, leaning down to trail kisses across his jaw. You instantly realise your mistake as he cranes his neck forward, but you’re too slow to pull away as he sinks his teeth into our shoulder and lightly sucks. The venom in his blood instantly paralyses your body, causing you to slump over him as he messily claws away the web-strings clutching him to the giant web.

Inwardly you scream in frustration, sure that you’re going to be taken to HQ and locked up somewhere without even being able to experience the feeling of cumming on Miguel’s dick.

Instead, he stretched under you on the web. His hands reach up to caress the skin that he's been struggling to touch. He seems to take pleasure in the feeling of your body, groaning as he cups your breasts and grips your stomach, waist, and hips, before his hands finally cease their journey on the flesh of your ass.

“After this, I’m imprisoning you in the high security ward of HQ,” he grumbles, harshly digging his claws into your ass and spanking you as he starts to bounce you up and down his cock.

You can only moan into his neck as Miguel uses you as a fleshlight, throwing his head back and moaning into your ear as he pounds into you from underneath. His dick is in so deep, every rut of his hips causing his cock to perfectly rub against the sensitive swell in your pussy.

“Love this cunt, grips me so good – Fuck.”

He smacks your ass again and plants his feet wide as he slightly lifts and angles hips, dragging you over his length in such a way that your clit grinds against his pelvis with every thrust.

You cry out as the heat building in you unravels and an orgasm tears through you, your cunt involuntarily undulating around his dick with your orgasm.

You heave as his dick continues to ram into you, fucking you through your prolonged orgasm.

“Yes hermosa, your pussy’s milking me so good,” he groans. "Pussy so warm and perfect for me."

He wraps his thick biceps around your body and hugs you to him as he fucks you even faster, pornographic moans and whimpers spilling from his lips as he chases his own orgasm. “Fuck yes, ‘m gonna cum,” he whines, rolling your bodies over to lie on top of you without breaking the frantic rhythm of his thrusts.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you take his dick. The paralysis already wore off but you’re still immobile due to the sheer weight of him crushing you into the web.

He lets out a long, drawn-out groan as you feel his sperm flood your cunt. You moan and grip onto his shoulders as his hips stutter with each spurt of cum, his orgasm rolling through him.

Eventually, he comes down from his high and sinks completely into you. He stays balls deep for a while, dick pulsating every now and then as he plugs your cum-filled pussy, refusing to let even a drop escape.

If only you could stay this full forever.

He hisses as he slowly pulls out of you. He rests his arousal on your stomach, panting as he keeps you trapped with his weight.

"You did so well mami," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You were spellbound for a second (or two), the surprising gentleness of him simultaneously comforting and reigniting a flame in you that has been long since dead. You barely restrain yourself from saying: "Another round, please."

You fervently shake away your crazy thoughts. “That was amazing and all but unfortunately, I have places to be,” you drawl, seeming to shock him from his post-orgasm haze.

“I-“

“Can you release some of the weight real quick? I kind of can’t breathe.”

He frowns but hikes up to his elbows and knees, allowing you some breathing room as he stares down at you with an emotion you cannot name.

Refusing to dwell on the soft look in his eyes, you lunge forward and unhinge your jaw to release your fangs before jamming them in his neck. Lets settle this quickly.

You roll out from under him before the venom takes hold of his body and he collapses onto the web. As you stare at his unmoving body you think: what am I going to do with him now?

Careful to make sure no one sees you; you gently dress and wash him with clothes and a cloth you swing to your apartment half-naked to get.

After sticking him to the web again, you leave a note and swing back to your apartment, crawling into your window in the wee hours of the morning with your pussy aching and his thick cum running down your leg.

...

Miguel opens his eyes to partial darkness, the beginnings of dawn illuminating the east side of the city.

"Shit," he mutters, scrambling out of your weakened webs and dropping down to the roof. A note previously implanted in his hair floats down before him and he picks it up before unfolding it cautiously.

He stares at the barely intelligible words for long minutes before crushing them in his fists, his molars grinding together as he twists his puffy fucked out lips into a scowl.

“Lyla, place a tracker on Spiderwoman 2023 on Earth 49710.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Nice sex lips Miggy xxx , have you tried vaseline?

-Spiderwoman

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Translations (allegedly):

[Por favour, no puedo mas – Please, I can’t anymore]

[Hermosa – Gorgeous / beautiful]

[Mami – Slang for an attractive woman in this context]

Sorry about the shortness of the fic everyone, been really busy and stressed but imma try and write more.

#miguel o'hara x reader #sub miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #dom reader #switch reader #sub reader #atsv x reader #atsv smut #spiderman 2099 x reader

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nymphbnny · 1 year ago

Text

LOST KITTY

────── o.miguel

psa: i’ve been wanting to write filth about that man ever since i saw him so this is gonna be a one shot about him outside the spiderman universe ; no claws and fangs lol

tw: miguel o’hara x fem reader, unedited, teasing, fingering, oral sex (female), spanking, miguel hinting he wants to feel your second hole (lmao i know), doggy sex, unprotected, slight hair pulling, use of the word daddy (once). MDNI

⤷ after losing your kitty and having put notice everywhere, a man finally comes at your door to give you what you’ve been looking for.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as soon as you opened your front door, greeted with the mewls of your lost kitty. you nearly teared up as you take him from the stranger’s arms, pulling him close to your chest. “i thought i’d never see you again,” you whispered to your fluffy boy, as it licked your face. it took you a few minutes to finally acknowledge the man standing in front of you.

“i’m so sorry,” you sniffed, extending your hand to present yourself. “where did you find him?” you held your puppy even closer, at last taking in the handsome buff man. he was gorgeous.

“i saw the notice a few days ago and stumbled across him by mistake really, i’m glad i could help. you’re lucky he wasn’t very far from your location.” he explained, his hand gripping your door frame. “miguel o’hara, nice to meet you.” he reached to shake your hand, your puppy licking his fingers. you both chuckled and stood silence for a while until you finally spoke up.

“oh right the reward, i’m so sorry for keeping you here, i’m just still taken back.” you smiled, miguel’s lips mirroring yours as he anticipated your moves and grabbed your arm gently, stopping you. “i didn’t do it for the money, i know what it feels like to lose a pet. i’m really glad i could help.” he stated, his beautiful spanish accent rolling out the words. deep down, you felt a weird attraction towards him. tall, beautifully tan, buff, cheekbones sitting up high his face. he was so perfect. you wouldn’t mind inviting him to get to know him better.

“at least let me invite you for a cup of coffee? lemonade?” you began guessing with a sweet smile, miguel chuckled before rubbing his hand across his face. “sure why not.” god he was hot.

as soon as he stepped in, his tall figure fully towered over you, giving you an entire view of how tall he was. he fixed his hair and waited for you to invite him further in to follow you. you stepped to the side, reaching behind him to close the door then mentioned him to follow you to the kitchen. “lemonade is fine thanks.” he politely said, watching as you gently put down your cat and bent over to reach for the lemonade that was sitting at the lower shelf of your fridge. he gulped, restraining himself from looking at your perfectly shaped ass, reminding himself that he wasn’t a pervert freak. he wanted to dip his finger in your jeans to pull you back against him and roam his hands on your ass. it was killing him.

you turned around, your cleavage showing as your tank top was pulled down by your hand movements to open the bottle and serve him some.

“there you go,” you drank, miguel following your lead. “i’m really glad i had the address in the papers. i’m even more thankful that no creeps showed up to my place instead.” you chuckled, the tension building up as you caught him gazing at you, his elbow resting on your marble counter. there was something electrifying about this man to say the least.

he smiled at you, gulping the last drops remaining then said: “i had a cat, but it died a few years back.” he frowned. “i’m so sorry.” you put your hand on his forearm, his muscles tensing under your touch. miguel looked at your concerned face and smiled gently, putting his hand over yours and leaned in. he wasn’t sure what he was going to do next.

“you smell good.” you muttered out, earning a small hum in return. you felt pulled in by his demeanor and you wanted more. “miguel…”

“¿si bonita?” he spoke up, his finger lifting your chin up. your thighs rubbed together, the friction of the jeans leaving a low sound that he heard. “tell me what’s wrong,” his hand moved up to rub your arm.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to,” you pulled back, afraid he’d think that you were just a thirsty woman who’d fuck anyone you just stepped into her house. but he was way ahead of your thoughts. “you’re not doing anything wrong. if you want me to leave just say so, i can l-“ you interrupted him, your body beating your brain as you got on your tip toes and kissed him. it didn’t take him long to smirk and kiss you back, his palm bringing your head closer. his other arm wrapped around your waist, slightly pulling you up.

you tilted your head, his tongue parting your lips. you gently sucked on it, making him squeeze your waist. “miguel,” you whispered between kisses. your hands grabbed his shoulders. “qué?” you bit your lip, guiding his hand down your thigh, watching how his eyes lit up when he felt your throbbing core. “want me to help you out?” he chuckled once you began riding his hand. he gripped your covered cunt, feeling its pulse before smacking your plump ass. “such a nice body, such a pretty face,” he muttered, sliding down your jeans along with your white panties.

“wait- i didn’t shave,” you remembered, your face red in embarrassment. he swat your hand away, grabbing your hips as he pulled you up easily and sat you on the counter. “i’m not a boy bebe, spread open let me see,” his words made the tips of your ears grow redder, intimidated by him as you slowly opened your legs for him, his finger going around your exposed sex, teasing you. you squirmed, watching miguel eye your pussy. “so beautiful, can’t wait to have a taste,” he deadpanned, pushing his index finger in your entrance.

“mig, shit,” you moaned as he curled his finger, enjoying how you squirmed before removing his finger and inserting it again. he loved the way your pussy was clenching over nothing. “please,” you begged him pushing your hips closer to him. he didn’t think you’d be so needy, but he wasn’t cruel. he couldn’t say no to such a sweet creature. he pushed his finger in again, kneeling so he could take a better look at your pussy. your fingers tangled up in his hair as he began kissing your thighs, then trailed towards the inner flesh. he added another finger, feeling the stretch caused by his big fingers, a yelp followed by a hum of pleasure leaving your lips. his kisses and bites reached your clit, slowly kissing your bud before sucking it, his fingers still working against your soft insides.

“fuck, so good, ahh,” there was something so exciting about having a stranger eating you out in your kitchen. a hot stranger. he was eating your pussy better than anyone has ever done before. slurping and sucking on your pretty cunt like a hungry man. he spread your legs further open with his hands, his face fully buried against your sex, enjoying the slick and wetness leaking out of your tiny hole. you bucked your hips, his fingers teasing that special spot. “dios, you taste so good, so sweet,” he murmured as his tongue kept lapping your spasming cunt. “miguel, mig,” you whimpered, your orgasm washing all over your body, your upper half thrown back as your elbows were your only support to hold yourself from falling. “cum undone baby, c’mon”

and you did. miguel was more than happy to lick you clean, his hands grabbing your thighs to pull you up and kiss you, lifting you up to put you back on your feet. however you weren’t just needy, you were also greedy. now that you had a taste of what sex might be with him, you wanted more.

“are you okay princesa?” he asked grabbing your face. you nodded, your hand instantly pressing the growing bulge in his pants. “i want it,” you pout, rubbing your hand over his clothed dick, a wince leaving his lips.

“you’re killing me,” he looked down softly at you before his animalistic instinct came forth and turned you around pulling your ass against him, your hips rotating to grind up on him. “tan hermosa,” miguel groaned before slapping your flesh, making it giggle and he could’ve sworn he just died at the sight. he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, his hard member slapping against your round shape. you giggled, moving your hips as if you were toying with him, his dick softly rubbing on your flesh. he spanked you again, and again, the sound of your yelps and the way your ass jiggled making him go crazy.

“i want to feel this ass,” he whispered, his hand carefully going from your second hole to your lower back. “maybe another time, though,” his words made you shiver, excited even. miguel stroked his dick for a few seconds before running it up and down your slit, gathering your slick then slowly pushing his pretty tip in. “mierda,” he exhaled, your walls squeezing him as he pushed himself in, helping you accommodate to his size inch by inch. “gonna make you remember each vein bebe,”

you mewled, your face pressed on the cold marble. miguel’s hand went to grab your hip as the other wrapped around your hair to adjust your angle, his hips thrusting slowly and deeply. “miguel, so big, ngh, so good,” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back as he began picking up his pace, his hand going from grabbing your hip to spanking you then going back to its original place. he pulled at your hair, making your body jolt up.

he kissed your head, his hips hitting yours, making the sounds of your skins clapping together louder. although your ass was taking all of his attention, he couldn’t help but slide his hand in your tanktop to pinch and fold your breasts. “so perfect, head to toe perfect,” he whispered in your ear, biting on your lobe. you went limb in his arms, unable to do anything but take his dick. “faster, please, faster,” you begged him, your arms wrapping around his neck, his face close to your face. miguel picked up his pace, his grunts audible in your ear.

“gimme your hand,” he deadpanned, taking your free hand and placing it on your lower stomach. “feel me? daddy’s here,” your body was on fire and the nickname he had just given himself was enough to send you over the edge. your legs shook as you came, your grip around him tightening as you held onto him. “good girl, cum on my cock,” he kissed your shoulder, his orgasm shortly following yours.

miguel pulled out, giving himself a few strokes before coming, the hot ropes of cum landing on your ass.

you both panted, regaining your breaths before you jokingly asked: “lemonade?”, making him burst out in laughter.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #em .*･｡ﾟdeclares #miguel o’hara x y/n

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