#wind is a grandpa leave him alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esha-isboogara · 1 year

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lyrical lies

i am a fuckinf degenerate and i’d like to apologize for how disgusting i have become.this is the longest thing i’ve written in a while..i’ve gone off the deep end if it isn’t clear🤭

here is more rick stuff not one person asked for find it here and here and here and here and here and here

✰let’s be honest rick is his own warning, smut , afab reader, age gap!!, calling him god, a bit of manhandling, a bit of dacro (?), shitty porn trips turned full blown story

“he doesn’t bite..just go ask him”. summer whispered, nudging you towards the garage door.

you shook your head in muted panic. you’d seen how angry her grandpa could get over small things and the last thing you were going to do was set him off over a stupid question.

“why don’t you do it summer ? this was your idea, plus he’s your grandfather”. you shot back.

she looked just as scared as you were. “he’ll totally yell at me if i go in there. he can’t be mad at you, you’re a guest”.

“yeah but what if he does ? i don’t want to get on his bad side”.

summer took hold of your shoulders. “y/n. the quicker we get this done the quicker we can get away from my grandpa and do something more fun”.

the garage door opened suddenly caused you both to jump back in shock.

there he stood , an annoyed look on his face. “i’m right in the middle of something very fucking important- is there a reason the two of you are bickering right in front of my god damn door”?

his piecing gaze was enough to make you want to cry. “i..we need help on a science project mr. sanchez sir”. you managed to say fighting back the urge to turn around and leave.

he cocked his head in amusement, his demeanor softening a bit. it was clear you had played right into his ego for better or for worse.

“that’s it ? why didn’t you just say that come in come in”.

you followed him into the garage the papers clenched in your hands.

“not you summer, you - you forbidden from entering. i know you went through my shit two days ago”. rick said, slamming the door in her face.

if only that had actually been the reason. he couldn’t wait to have sweet,innocent little y/n alone. every since she’d bonded with summer over some college tour bullshit he was obsessed. he needed you and needed you bad, as embarrassing as that was.

“what can i help you with sweetheart”? his voice as sweet as saccharine.

you fidgeted with the papers once more. “well i have this project based around quantum physics and since you’re the smartest person i know i figured you’d be the best person to ask mr. sanchez”.

he couldn’t help but smile at that. he WAS a fucking genius and hearing it out loud always made him puff up in pride.

and she has manners too. this was not going to easy. it’s not that he cared about his granddaughters feelings - quite the opposite. but if summer were to find out how he really saw her friend she’d stop bringing you over. and that would just make things a million times harder for him.

“you’re not wrong, i am the smartest person you’ll probably ever meet. and lucky for you i have something that’ll give your professor a run for their money”.

as he rifled through us cabnets filled to the brim with countless inventions he piped up “and sweetheart”?

you felt yourself melting into his trap. “yes sir”?

“you’re a grown fucking woman right ? you can call me rick”.

—————————————————————————

you were like putty in his hands at this point and he’d be lying if he wasn’t loving every second of this. and it only took 30 minutes. maybe you weren’t as innocent as you acted but he wasn’t complaining.

not when you sat atop his lap so pretty asking- no begging him to please you.

“p-please mr. sanchez” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding yourself against his leg. “i want you to touch me , use me please, please mr. sanchez”.

oh god how could he say no to those sweet noises. he’d take you apart right fucking there if he could but alas his family was home and they did not need to catch wind of the things he was doing. he messed with the idea of erasing their memories in his head for a while but figured it would be way too much work in the long run.

“fuuuck. i’ll give you everything you want and more but you have to promise me you’ll shut up. i would hate for your best friend to walk in and see what a slutty mess you’ve become”.

you nodded your head vigorously, happy to finally get some kind of satisfaction. as terrifying as rick was you’d be lying if you said the way he towered over you with such control didn’t turn you on.

“you’re so obedient- smart girl. do me a favor will ya ? get up and lift up that skirt for me , let me see what i’m workin with here”.

you did as you were told, climbing off his lap and giving him a slow twirl.

“good girllll”.

he clenched his hand into a fist. holy shit you were a fine piece of ass. he couldn’t wait to make you his. fuck what summer thought he was going to fuck you so good you’d come back for more.

“fuckk you’re a pretty thing huh ? it’s a wonder you haven’t already been claimed, guess it’s a good thing you came here cause i plan on doin just that”. with those words he was was hovering above you pressing your face down on the metal surface of his work table.

“you look even b-better like this holy shit” he admired from his standing position.

“fu-fuck mr. sanch- rick”. you corrected yourself mid sentence. drool was already starting to pool beside your mouth but you barely noticed with how hot and bothered you were growing.

“mmm that’s a good girl”. he flipped your skirt up. and pulled your panties down to your knees ignoring your small please for him to be gentle.

he smiled- a shit eating grin looking at how soaked your sex was. “you poor thing- i’ve d-denied you much too long haven’t i ? left this perfect pussy empty for weeks? how did you ever survive”?

usually he engaged in a little foreplay only because his partners were so dead set on it. but he was far too eager to do any of that bullshit right now. he’d been waiting for this.

without so much as a warning he thrust himself inside you, a scream leaving your lips.

his hand flew to your mouth covering it word word word

“shhh shh shhh. i know how much you love my cock but you have to stay quiet. got it y/n”?

he removed his palm for a moment to hear you answer.

you don’t answer though. you’re a babbling drooling mess already. the feeling of his cock filling you up and stretching your walls felt like heaven.

“you’re my god rick - please decide what to do with me and treat me like your slave. you control all my actions i’m nothing but your stupid worldly servant to fill with seed when you please”.

he was a bit taken aback as that comment seemed to come out of nowhere. when it sank in it gave him even more of a reason to keep you to himself.

if he wasn’t carful he’d be giving beth a new little sibling. but oh fuck- she looked and sounded so perfect begging for him.

“fuck yeah i am your god ! i’m a god among men and you’re my mortal pet i can use as i please”.

the whine that escaped her throat was almost pornagraphic. it was hard to keep your composure under the circumstances.

“good pet”.

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villainology · 8 months

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i feel like a kid running around with their drawing to show everyone else in the room bc i've already told like 2 other blogs about this scenario i had while i was trying to sleep but can you IMAGINE being a family friend of the sawyers? maybe your grandparents knew theirs before times were tough and cannibalism became their means of survival, and your family's died off and left you the little farmhouse and patch of land a few miles outside of the sawyers' boundaries. drayton's clarified you're off-limits (through some honorary family-friend ideals, or as not to upset grandpa 'cause your folks were always kind to them) and you're none the wiser to their true savagery they get up to (you can hear a scream once or twice, when you drive your dad's old beat up truck near their land sometimes, but you always think they've got really rowdy and funny sounding goats). but you've inherited your family's farmhouse and poor little you just doesn't know anything about farming and fixing up the house! no matter how hard you try, nothing grows, so one uneventful day you drop off some seeds as a gift for drayton since, well, they're not getting any use with you, and you mention a problem that needs fixing. maybe it's a rusty shed door you can't get open, or a busted roof. either way, drayton's always liked to keep up apparances and you haven't had a chance to meet the new additions of the family, so drayton sends johnny back with you (after giving him thorough lecturing about how no, you are NOT a potential victim, you're just a little oblivious, and plus johnny's the most... convincingly normal one out of all of them, arguably) to fix something up for you as thanks for the seeds. so now there's a sweaty, attractive, pretty charming (and maybe a little subtly condescending) guy fixing up something because you hadn't the slightest clue how to fix it, so you might as well make him some lemonade or tea and thank him! and, well, johnny might think you're amusing. pretty sweet, pretty cute, pretty *airheaded*. drayton said you were off-limits for anything violent, of course, but that didn't mean he couldn't test any other limits, right?

aaaah~ no bc wait I think you’re onto something here!! you got me thinking so many filthy thots rn, so I made a lil drabble, hope that’s okay w you? 😭❤️ sjdbdjdndnfnf I hope it’s written okay, I wrote this half asleep in bed but I couldn’t stop thinking abt it!

warnings — slight dub-con, light smut, Johnny being Johnny!

“Here you go, Mr Johnny,” you smiled up the ladder toward him as you walked out with two glasses of lemonade in hand, “where’d ya want it?”

“Just set it down on the table there.” His voice was stern, a tad hint of annoyance laced into it, not that you noticed.

Johnny stood at the top of the ladder, nail in mouth as he hammered another into roof of your porch, closing off the gap which would hopefully stop the rattling noise anytime there was a gust of wind. He slipped the hammer and last few nails into his work belt before looking down at you stood below him, so innocently sipping through the curly straw in your lemonade glass.

The Texan heat wasn’t good for much, but the way it made a light coat of sweat glisten on your body as the sun began to set was enough to make him appreciate the summer weather. Your denim shorts just a little too high up and your white vest top just a little too low, but from where he was stood he got to have the perfect angle down your shirt, and you were none the wiser.

Johnny carefully came down the ladder before picking his glass up off the table, his eyes never once leaving your body. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, you really were oblivious, so innocent and air-headed that he wondered how you survived off by yourself all these years before coming back to the farmlands.

The way Drayton sent him out here with you alone, like sending a lamb off to the slaughter — an adorable, pretty little lamb making lemonade for a starving lion. Johnny wondered to himself what you’d think if you found out what they were really like, just how savage and dangerous they were, would you run scared from him, give him chase to hunt you down on acres of land?

“Sorry about you having to come out here, I’ve clearly got a lot to learn about all this type of stuff, huh?” You laughed as you gestured toward the house and the land surrounding it.

Johnny was snapped from his thoughts, a fake little smile crossing his face as he nodded, “don’t sweat it, darlin’, friends helping out friends, ain’t that right?”

He knew that Drayton said you weren’t to be a victim, that you weren’t some prey to be chased and hunted down, butchered just for the hell of it, but what about anything else? After all, this was Drayton’s way of saying thanks to you, but what did Johnny get out of this? Where was his thank you for fixing up your roof free of charge? If you weren’t going to be Johnny’s victim then he’d sure as hell find away for you to give him thanks.

“Say,” he placed his half empty glass down on the table beside him, “you moved back up here all alone, not got a boyfriend following you here?”

“Oh, heh, no. Haven’t had one of those in a long while, Mr Johnny.”

“Huh, well that’s just peachy, darlin’.”

He walked from the table and closer to you, his hand stroking up and down your arm as he worked his way behind you, his warm body pressing up against yours as he leaned down to your ear, “how about a thank you for all my hard work, hm?”

His hand snaked its way around your waist and played with the button of your shorts, his lips grazing across the delicate skin of your neck, gently kisses to distract you from what his hands were doing. Truth be told you didn’t want him to stop, and he could tell. The way you let him unbutton your pants without a fight, his fingers working their way between your legs and tracing a line back and forth against your clothed cunt.

“Mr Johnny, I don’t think—”

“That’s alright, baby, you don’t gotta think,” his free hand wrapped around your throat, tilting your head to the side so he could more easily bite and suck at your skin, “just gotta do whatever I tell you to do.”

After all, Drayton said you couldn’t be slaughtered like he did the others, but he didn’t say anything about Johnny not being able to fuck you til’ you couldn’t walk no more.

#➳ : messages #lambofjudgement #your brain works in wonderous ways sjdbejdnef!!!#I couldn’t stop thinking abt this like??? it’s so hot omg #anything abt johnny got me going FERAL!!#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm x reader

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍, 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘, 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

more dad!eddie, penny and baby wayne adventures can be found here.

summary: . . . jonathan and argyle return to spend an afternoon helping Eddie babysit your toddler and newborn at everyone’s favorite fast food place. once again, they are of no help. neither is Steve.

a/n: everyone loved Three Men and a Baby so here's a little sequel with everyone's fav babysitter and we couldn't leave baby wayne out. as always, all characters live in Hawkins because i said so. mistakes will be fixed later!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“You know, it kinda feels like we’re a family.” Argyle pointed out from his place on the soft mat just outside of the play place. He was yanking off his shoes to stick into the cubby next to Penny’s significantly smaller ones.

“Kind of? We’re at McDonald’s with our toddler and our baby, pretty sure we are a family.” Jonathan chimed in from his spot across the booth from Eddie. He was sunk into the seat, shoeless and waiting for Argyle with Penny on his lap.

The three year old was practically shaking with energy, eager to jump into the playpen but since there were a couple of older kids in there, Argyle and Jonathan would be going in with her to make sure nothing happened to her. Truthfully, she probably would have been fine on her own but Jonathan and Argyle insisted, not amused with the idea of some seven year old touching their precious Penny with gross, sticky barbecue sauce covered fingers.

Not on their watch.

“With my toddler and my baby.” Eddie corrected them with a lazy grin, fingers gently massaging the fuzz on the top of the one month old’s head. He was leaned back on his side of the booth, baby Wayne curled up and fast asleep on his chest despite the noise around him.

He was heavy sleeper, much like his dad had been before Penny and he came into the world. Now, Eddie was lucky if he didn’t wake up when you moved around in your sleep next to him.

“Same thing,” Argyle mumbled with a vague hand gesture, tossing his hat onto the table. “Man, you asked us to help you with the kids for the day, so we’ve got joint custody right now.”

“You asked me if you guys could hang out with us!”

With your family of three having turned into a family of four, it was clear you were outgrowing the trailer Big Wayne had left you and Eddie when he’d moved in with his new ‘lady friend’. So while you were out apartment hunting with Eden, Eddie had stayed home with Penny and Wayne. This time around, he was much more confident in himself being solo, despite the addition of the new baby. Besides, Penny was easy to watch right now.

She was so taken with baby Wayne, whom she affectionally referred to as her ‘potatoes’ because it had been what Grandpa Wayne compared him to when he was born, shockingly pale, small and covered heavily in white biofilm. He’d since developed color, but Penny had latched onto it and wouldn’t be letting the nickname go anytime soon.

Jonathan and Argyle had stopped by—a normal occurrence since the first time they’d hung around Eddie and Penny when she had been the newborn—under the guise of having caught wind from Eden that Eddie would be alone with the kids.

Eddie knew they just missed Penny and were trying to be the cool uncles they thought they were and he hadn’t wanted her to feel like she wasn’t going to be getting attention now that Wayne had finally made his arrival in the world, so he figured a little outing would do her some good.

Apparently it did Argyle and Jonathan some good, too.

“Hurry up, Argyle.” Jonathan hissed, and Penny nodded from her place on his lap.

“Yeah, huwwy!”

“Oh my god—fine, let’s go already!” Argyle threw his hands up in exasperation. He didn’t need to tell her twice. Penny climbed down from Jonathan’s lap faster than he could try to get a hold of her and made a run for the play place, quickly diving in, much to Argyle and Jonathan’s horror.

“Dude, you just let her go alone!”

“You could have grabbed her, why did you tell her to do that?”

They were still arguing as they crawled in after her, Jonathan looking absolutely ridiculous as he called out for her in hopes of finding her quickly.

Eddie laughed, big doe eyes focused on a window of the play place where he could see Penny waving a little hand at him. She already made it to the highest level, Jonathan and Argyle wouldn’t be getting a hold of her anytime soon.

For a good fifteen minutes, Eddie watched as Jonathan and Argyle popped up in spots Penny had previously been occupying just a couple of moments too late, it looked like they were still arguing as they crawled through each section in search of her.

Wayne stirred, his tiny body wiggling on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie sat up a little straighter as his hand cradled the back of his son’s head to lay him across his lap. “Someone’s finally up."

Wayne was staring up at him, face set in a slight scowl. The differences between Penny and Wayne would never cease to amuse Eddie. While Penny had been a happy baby, if not a little judgmental looking with her expressions, Wayne’s main emotion was bothered. He was remarkably unimpressed with just about everyone except his parents, so far. Most babies were figuring out how to use their face and constantly smiling when doing so, but not Wayne.

He only moved his face around to look angry or annoyed. He seemed to be filled with attitude and Eddie honestly couldn’t be more proud, especially when you were cooing over it. Probably wouldn’t appreciate it when Wayne would become a teenager, but for now it was stinking cute. It also helped that you seemed to be a copy machine, while they might differ in personalities so far, Wayne looked almost exactly like Penny had when she was his age, though instead of a fully covered head of curls, his head was mostly fuzz with a main strip of the curls going down the center of his head—when it was Wayne’s bath time, Eddie liked to give him a mohawk—and you were pleased when he came out with a pair of big brown, doe eyes, too. Along with unfairly long eyelashes.

Wayne gave a loud grunt up at him, his barely-there eyebrows furrowing as he seemingly tried to yell at his dad.

“Ooh and on the wrong side of the crib again, huh?” Eddie frowned mockingly down at him, clicking his tongue as he bounced his baby gently.

Wayne still wasn’t amused with his daddy’s teasing and gave another warning yelp without breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re so intimidating and so tough, no one can mess with you.” Eddie cooed, raising the tiny baby in his hold to his lips as he pressed a kiss to the soft, sweet smelling skin of his son’s forehead.

Regardless of how annoyed he seemed to be, just like every other baby Wayne was a sucker for human contact and preened under Eddie’s affections, when Eddie pulled back to look at him he was more content, fists uncurling to stretch out his little wrinkly fingers as he suckled on his bottom lip.

“What the hell is this?”

The voice surprised Wayne so much his little arms shot up and his body stiffened, back arching. Eddie sighed as he reached for the pacifier on the table top before acknowledging the drama queen.

“That would be my son, Harrington.”

Steve rolled his eyes, foot tapping in irritation as his hands rested on his hips.

“I know that, Munson, I wasn’t referring to the cute little bread loaf. I’m talking about how I was at the stoplight down the street and I just so happened to glance into the parking lot and see both your van and a certain pizza delivery service car. Which would mean you, Jonathan and Argyle are hanging out without me again. And I know you guys wouldn’t do that, especially since the whole friend group knows how I feel about being left out.”

“You hang out with plenty of other people all the time.” Eddie reminded him as he held the pacifier to Wayne’s lips. The glutton accepted it eagerly and relaxed into his dad’s embrace once again.

“I mean being left out with guys! Not the kids!”

“You’ve got Robin.”

“I said not with the kids.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“I know you’re probably joking—or at least I hope to god you are, but please don’t do that.” Steve didn’t bother waiting for an invitation to sit down, just sat in the side of the booth Argyle had been occupying. “Where are Cheech and Chong, anyways?”

Before Eddie could answer, a crash came from one of the upper levels of the playpen.

“THERE SHE IS, QUICK GRAB HER!” Argyle yelled, followed by the sound of another bang and some groaning. “Ow! Dude, get your elbow out of my kidneys!”

“Then stop trying to crowd in front of me! You’re gonna get us stuck!”

“Never mind.” Steve chuckled and Eddie smirked when he caught sight of Penny running past another barrier window, still wild and free. While he couldn’t see Argyle or Jonathan, he could make out the figures belonging to the two grown men in the red tubing. “Do I even want to know what they’re doing?”

“It’s pretty funny with the context, but it’s probably even funnier without.” Eddie shifted until Wayne was tucked in the crook of his arm, big brown eyes heavily lidded as he sucked on his pacifier and stared up at his dad.

“Can I hold him?” Steve asked, trying to get Wayne to look at him with mind powers he lacked. It didn’t work, Wayne was still zeroed in on Eddie.

“Yeah, hold on.” Eddie placed one hand under Wayne’s body and the other under his head, before lifting him up like an offering. Steve’s hand carefully replaced Eddie’s and then was pulling Wayne to his body, arms secure around his little body.

“Oh.” Steve was taken aback with the angry glare directed up at him. He’d only seen the one month old a handful of times so far in his existence and he hadn’t really gotten to hold him for long due to the amount of arms he had to be passed through in one go whenever he was brought around. Robin told him Wayne had reminded her of how unfriendly Eddie looked to people who didn’t know him—and people who did—and he was starting to get what she meant.

“That—that’s a face he’s making. Cute, but damn, he’s a little scary.”

Maybe it was mean of him, Eddie was hoping Wayne would cry and knock Steve’s ego down a few notches. He had faith in his little boy.

“He’s just a little delayed when it comes to his facial expressions, I’m sure as soon as he learns how to express emotions, he’ll be all smiley.” Eddie stayed fixated on the baby in Steve’s arms, watching his face for any impending outbursts.

Much to his surprise, he did start smiling. Right up at Steve. The big haired jerk started beaming. “Look! He’s doing it!”

Eddie tried not to frown, Wayne hadn’t smiled like that around him on his own yet, why the hell was he doing it for Harrington?

He got his answer when Wayne’s stomach began to gurgle, followed by the distinct sound of him utterly obliterating his diaper.

Steve looked horrified as he realized Wayne was pooping in his arms, but he looked traumatized when he realized he could feel warmth spreading up Wayne’s little back. Then the smell punched him in the face. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s head flew back as he laughed hard, tears welling up in his eyes. That explained why Wayne had been in such a sour mood, his poor baby was probably feeling so relieved after dropping that dump.

Steve didn’t look so amused, he stood up and moved over to give Wayne back to Eddie before disappearing into the play place after Penny, Jonathan and Argyle.

“Good job, baby.” Eddie cooed, pressing a kiss into his baby’s fat cheeks. With his tummy no longer an issue, Wayne was cooing right back at him, looking entirely relaxed.

Eddie gathered Wayne and his diaper bag, slipping out to the parking lot. Once he’d made it to the van, he placed Wayne down on the seat and quickly changed his diaper, making sure to clean any blow out he might have gotten on his back. Steve had to be a weenie when it came to smells because it didn’t stink to Eddie, especially considering the only thing Wayne consumed was breast milk.

“How you feeling?” Eddie asked the infant as he swapped out his onesie with a cleaner one. He liked this one better, anyways. It had been Penny’s old Hellfire onesie, something you made her when you’d found out you were pregnant and what she wore when you’d dressed her as him for her first Halloween. Obviously, Wayne didn’t say anything back but Eddie had grown used to talking to Penny when she hadn’t been able to talk yet, so he was more than comfortable doing the same thing with Wayne.

“Yeah, I’d feel better after that, too. But knowing you, you’re starving now that you’re empty, aren’t you?” Eddie gently pulled the pacifier from Wayne’s mouth, lips twitching into a smile when his baby continued to mime the suckling motion. He held his knuckle up to Wayne’s little lips and sure enough his little guy sucked eagerly at it.

Eddie pulled the small bottle containing your breast milk from one of the side pouches of the diaper bag and decided to leave the bag itself in the car. He wasn’t planning on sticking around for too much longer since Penny was probably wearing herself out, no doubt she’d need a nap soon. As would Jonathan and Argyle, probably.

Once he was back inside and back in the booth, Eddie fed Wayne his bottle, gazing down at him with adoration as his sons’ eyes closed in content.

“Hi, daddy.” Penny appeared at the table, the curls on her little head going in every direction as she struggled to pull herself onto the seat. Eddie placed a hand on her bottom, simultaneously feeling her diaper for any droopiness—she wasn’t entirely potty trained yet—and hoisting her up next to him.

“Did you go potty?”

“No.”

“Do you need to?”

“No. Tooce?”

“Juice, baby.” Eddie handed her the apple juice box that had come with her happy meal, watching as she drained it. She’d need to go pee soon, after that.

Now, if Penny was here then . . . where were the the guys who had tasked themselves with watching her?

Both he and Penny glanced up when they heard Steve’s voice coming from the section of the playpen right above them.

“I’m telling you guys, I didn’t see her when I came in!”

“Well, I’ve been blocking this part off and Argyle’s stuck in the green diesel truck side, she hasn’t come by here so she had to have passed you!” Jonathan’s voice shot back.

“Wait—he’s stuck?”

“He got a cramp in his leg and he can’t stretch it out since it’s so cramped in there, so he’s just got to wait it out—hey, did you go through the yellow tunnel yet?”

Both of Steve’s elbows smacked into the plastic walls around him as he changed direction, hissing in pain. “Fuck—no, hold on I’ll go check. Meet me back at the green diesel.”

Eddie could make out the silhouette of their figures crawling away from each other and then it got quiet before both Eddie and Penny started laughing.

Penny giggled into her hand as she rested her head against her daddy’s arm. He stroked a hand over her heated face, the apples of her cheeks dark from the wild chase she’d lead her uncles on.

“You tired yet, baby?”

“Yuh-huh. I had so many funs, daddy! Unca Johnny and Unca Ahgle chaseded me, but I am so fast! Is my little baby potatoes eating, daddy?” Penny got a grip on his jacket and used it to balance herself as she stood up on the seat to peer down at her baby brother who had his eyes closed but was still suckling on the bottle.

His heart warmed at the sight, Eddie loved how much Penny loved Wayne. He’d always been lonely as a kid and longed for companionship, even a sibling. Now, he was just happy Penny wouldn’t have to go through life with that same loneliness. And neither would Wayne, they’d have each other through thick and thin. They’d have both of their parents, too.

Eddie was so thankful for his family, suddenly he longed to have you near him to complete it again.

Fate seemed to be taking it easy on him these last few years, because he got you, he had Penny, he had Wayne, and now he had you again, this time walking into the McDonalds.

Penny spotted you first and began jumping up and down to get your attention. Once you’d spotted her, you hurried over and let her jump into your arms, holding her close to your body as she clung to you.

“Mommy, mommy! Look!” She points over at the play place, you followed her finger, assuming she was trying to get you to admire the build.

“I see! Were you playing in there?”

“Yeah! Yeah! I was play’n wiff Unca Johnny and Unca Ahgle.”

“Let me guess, your uncles are still playing in there without you.”

“Uh-huh!”

“Argyle, you’re blocking the way!” You heard Steve yell out.

“Go around! My leg hurts!”

“We literally can’t, Argyle.” Jonathan’s voiced echoed above you as Eden stepped out from behind you with a heavy sigh.

“Did Argyle get stuck again?” The shorter girl, clad in black directed the question at Eddie who was biting back a grin.

“Green diesel,” he snickered out, nodding to the section of the play place. Eden’s shoulders sagged before she walked over to the cubby and kicked her shoes off.

“The things I do for love,” she grumbled as she climbed through the entrance and up the large purple stairs, not having to wcrawl as much as the guys did since she was smaller in stature.

“How’d it go?” Eddie asked as you slid in next to him, giving him a kiss before you stroked a hand over your now dozing baby’s cheek.

“Really good! I think I found one you’re gonna like, it’s gated and it’s near the garage, though I’m not sure about the gated part now. Can’t imagine the amount of trouble The Brothers Pothead would have with the gate code.”

Right on cue you heard more loud thumps and bangs coming from above you.

“Argyle, you have to stretch your leg out!”

“Baby, I can’t! It hurts like hell!”

“Stop cussing, this is a children’s place!”

“Argyle, I will give you five dollars to just suck it up and drag yourself through so we can get Penny and get out of here.”

“Penny’s already out there,” You heard Eden inform the guys who groaned.

“Thought she didn’t get past you, Steve.” Jonathan’s condescending tone could be heard.

“Yes, because I willingly want to be in a confined space that smells like butt sweat. Obviously, I didn’t see her.”

Eddie watched you laugh with a smile on his face before raising his eyebrows down at Penny as she pried herself out of your arms to tug on the sleeve of his jacket.

“It’s stinky in thew, daddy. It weally is. ‘S why I left.”

“That’s gross, baby."

“Yeah.”

You couldn’t wait any longer, carefully plucking your baby from Eddie’s arms. Baby Wayne let out a couple of little squeaks but didn’t stir too much as he curled into your chest, cheek resting against your breast. You spotted the empty bottle in Eddie’s hold and began to gently pat your son’s back. It took a few moments, then he let out the most adorable of burps and for once didn’t spit up all over you.

“Is he still out?” You asked Eddie, unable to see if the baby still had his eyes closed from the angle you had him cradled to your chest at.

“For the most part,” Wayne’s eyes weren’t entirely closed, they were open just enough for Eddie to tell his eyes were rolled back. Very metal looking. With Eddie’s arms free, Penny decided to climb right into them, securing her own around his neck.

You raised your baby’s body a little higher to nuzzle your face in the trail of soft, sweet smelling hair, getting a good whiff of his baby scent.

Once you’d had your fill, you shuffled further into the booth until Eddie could slip an arm over your shoulders, thumb stroking against the side of your neck and you relaxed into the hard plastic of the booth, shooting your daughter a smile when you caught her staring at you, “Get comfortable, baby. I think we’re gonna be here for a while.”

Eddie laughed and Penny didn’t look like she cared.

“I've got a riddle for you, sweetheart,” Eddie started, shifting Penny around until her back was to his front and she was perched comfortably in his lap. “What’s the difference between the three stooges and three grown men stuck in a children’s play course?”

You pretended to think for a few minutes. “Mmm, you got me. What do you think, Penny?”

Penny grinned, shoulders shrugging.

“I dunno.”

“Nothing.” Eddie finally answered. “There is no difference.”

“Whas the stooges?” Penny asked, little hand scratching the curls on her head.

“You’re ruining daddy’s joke, baby.” Eddie playfully growled down at her, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers as she craned her neck back to look up at him, giggling in delight and oh so pleased to have caused ‘trouble’ for her daddy.

“I should have just kept driving.” A familiar voice passed over you from the tube directly above your head.

“Eddie, is that Steve?”

“Sweetheart, I said three stooges and I wasn’t referring to Eden, does it look like I have a death wish?”

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blackopals-world · 11 months

Text

I Found Home

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Implied relationship

Part 5

Notes: This wasn't supposed to happen yet but I'm working on several chapters at once so this got posted first due to timing. This chapter was meant to go last. (besides I'm not going to pretend that most of you didn't just come here for this guy. I just want to get this over with.)

Malleus

"The Hero"

Grimm wasn't the most social of the kids but he was finally learning how to play with others. From what the child development book says he had a rich imagination and took part in imaginative play with others. He had even shown interest in things like singing and dancing with other kids.

But when art time came Grimm looked upset and yelled at another girl. Yuu had to apologize to the girl and her father. They had an argument which caused Grimm to lose his temper. He wouldn't say what it was about either.

When it was time to go Grimm waited by the car and stared at the crumpled drawing he made in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Yuu asked helping Grimm into his car seat.

Grimm shook his head.

Yuu nodded and decided to leave it alone.

When they got home Grimm went to his room without much fuss. Even bathtime was quiet without his usual crying.

When it was time for bed Grimm still clutched the paper ball.

"Mama?" He asked for her while he was deep in thought.

"Yeah, sweetie?" Yuu pulled the covers over him.

"Where is our family?" Grimm unfurled the pater to reveal a drawing of her and him in crayon.

Yuu's voice was caught in her throat. She wanted to wait until he was older to explain this.

"We are a family." She said simply.

"But Erinn said that families were big like hers. A mommy, daddy, sister, brother, grandma, and grandpa. But I only have a Mommy." Grimm asked confused. "I told Erinn that I only had Mama and she said that we weren't a real family without that. So I got mad."

Yuu knew she had to control her emotions and try to explain but it was getting hard.

"We are a family. All the family we need. Erinn is lucky and has a big family already and she doesn't understand what other families look like." Yuu said stiffly "I'm sorry if I'm not enough. If I could, I would give you the family you deserve but I'm only one person."

Yuu quickly finished saying goodnight before retreating to her room. Tears of frustration blinded her.

It wasn't her fault.

She wanted a family too.

Ever since she returned to her world and old life she had tried to find her place. Friends and family were happy to see her again but they had moved on after years of her absence. Everything familiar was now strange. Then came the questions about where she was and what happened. She couldn't answer, no one would believe her. They turned on her with suspicion and called out her lies. News media caught wind and police had questions as well. Everyone wanted to know but she had no answers.

Rumors were everywhere and even the people who trusted and wanted to help Yuu had mud slung their way. She did what had to do to protect them and left. She escaped as far as she could to a place where no one knew her. She wrote her books in solitude and kicked out everyone who tried to profit from her newfound fame.

Conspiracy theorists and true crime fans still hounded her but she had a life where she could be in relative peace.

She had a son now and could live a normal life. Wasn't that enough? Can't she live her life?

Yuu cried for herself, for her son, for their future.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait until tomorrow, your Majesty? Yuu may be asleep by now." Silver asked pushing aside the foliage with a ball of light he cased in the other.

"Of course, my child of man has always stayed up late in the night. She is undoubtedly awake." Malleus said proudly leaving Sebek and Silver to clear the way. Trails of Will o'-Wisps marked their path to find their way back.

Lilia flew above the group as he enjoyed the scenery. He seemed even more relaxed these days. Silver and Sebek had finally taken over their roles as captains of the royal guards. Malleus was firmly established himself as the ruling king and let his dear grandmother retire to her castle on the coast. She was certainly enjoying the sun in her scales.

Malleus had been hard at work revitalizing his kingdom. Bringing his kingdom into the current Era took effort but he had reached out to Shroud's heir for his assistance. Now the youth of his kingdom had new jobs to look forward to and new citizens had begun to move into their land. Malleus had also reached out to over classmates and found their help invaluable.

Kingscholar and Viper had been invaluable political partners and expanded trade between their lands. Rosehearts had joined him in laying out new laws compatible with technological developments. Ashengrotto had great knowledge of how to take advantage of natural resources in the area. Schoenheit offered assistance in starting an entertainment business hub like filming to take advantage of the vista.

Malleus had developed strong friendships with each of them but none of them could compare to the one that changed his life. Something they all agreed on.

"This place is so nice. So many stars but you can still see the city lights in the far distance. Are we close to the shore?" Lilia couldn't wait to visit another world and go touring with Yuu. His boys may be reserved to just seeing her but he had plans.

"The terrain is dangerous. It's rocky and likely has many dangerous creatures lurking about. How that human can stand being so much peril is beyond me." Sebek huffed.

Silver shook his head and ignored his co-captain.

As the group journeyed through the forest they noticed a small sound break up the buzzing of cicadas. Small sniffles and whimpers echoed and wrapped around the trees.

Lilia as if sensing a child's distress told the group to be quiet as he tracked down the whining.

Tucked into a hollow at the base of a tree a small boy huddled with a stuffed cat clutched to his body for dear life. The poor child cried for no one but himself.

As the group got closer they lit up wisp light around the area. The soft light alerted the boy as he drew closer.

"Hey, there. What are you doing out here so late?" Lilia crouched down to the boy's level to not scare him. "You should be at home."

The boy shook his head.

"You're parents are probably looking for you." Silver said.

"I can't. I'm bad." The boy rubbed his red puffy eyes.

"You're bad?" Malleus asked holding out his hand to Silver who immediately grabbed Sebek and grabbed a handkerchief from the half-fae's pocket. He then gave it to his king.

Lilia took the handkerchief and held it up to the boy's nose and told him to blow his nose. (Crying gets very messy with kids his age and makes it hard for them to breathe with clogged sinuses. Not mention kids have a hard time blowing their nose on their own at a young age.)

The boy wrinkled his face as Lilia cleaned his stuffy nose with practiced ease. The boy tried to weakly fend him off the same way any child does when you try to clean a smudge off their cheek with your thumb. Once he was freed and cleaned up he finally responded.

"I'm a bad boy. I made Mama cry. She said cus of me." He said remorseful.

"Why don't you just say sorry then?" Sebek said tactlessly.

Silver elbowed him and the crocodile shrugged with an expression that said 'What do you want me to say! I'm right!"

"Because I always make Mama cry. Mama is always sad. So I'm going back so I can't make her sad again." He said defiantly.

He was going to help his mother even if he wasn't going to be with her.

"Where are you going?" Malleus asked kneeling beside Lilia.

The boy looked that Malleus's horns with wonder.

"Mama found me here in these woods. But she told me a story of a dragon that lived far in the woods. The dragon was nice and helped the lost princess so I want to find him and ask him to help Mama." The boy sounded really proud of his plan.

"A quest. What a brave boy you are." Lilia ruffled the boy's hair. The boy tried to dodge but failed.

"Hey, are you the dragon?" The boy asked pointing at Malleus's horns.

"I'm a dragon-fae. The king in fact." Malleus responded.

"And you can help my Mama? With your magic? Can you take her nightmares?" The boy asked pleading.

"I will try to help if you lead us to her." Malleus wanted to see Yuu again but he knew he had to help this child first. Reuniting this family was more important right now than petty wants.

Yuu couldn't sleep. She just needed the check. Maybe she was excessive but she just worried. Almost every night she would cheak on Grimm, just in case. She just need to see he was alive and breathing.

Some times she just had nightmares where he...

The parenting manuals said that this was perfectly normal. Her fears were natural and these impulses were a product of evolution and prevention of S.I.Ds.

Wait is there a cut-off point for S.I.Ds? Could Grimm still get it?

Yuu took a deep breath, she just needed to see him.

Yuu opened the door quietly to find...an empty bed.

"Grimm?" Yuu called out.

She began checking the bathroom in case he needed to go potty...nothing.

She checked the kitchen in case he wanted water...nothing.

The living room, The study, her bedroom, the attic, the garage

Nothing, nothing , nothing, nothing, nothing, NOTHING!

Yuu searched everywhere as she rushed outside and called for him. Soon the hysteria kicked in as she banged on her neighbors' doors. Frantically she gathered people to help her find her son.

The group was no less enthusiastic to help as they treated the boy like a little hero on a quest. Unfortunately, this hero was very tired and needed to be carried by the dragon king. Lilia was desperate to have his turn but the bat was way too energetic right now.

Lilia was secretly praying that Yuu lived with children so he could play with them.

Grimm was fascinated with Malleus. He studied the dragon's horns, eyes and fangs.

"Mama said the dragon was best friends with the lost princess. Is that true?" Grimm asked touching Malleus's sharp ears.

Malleus let the boy explore as he thought of a response.

"I cared deeply for a friend who was far from home. She was my best friend."

"What was she like? I like the princess most." Grimm said cheerfully.

"The princess, I mean she was beautiful like any princess. But she was better. She was kind and selfless. She made friends everywhere she went." As Malleus said this little fingers pulled at his lips to get a better look at his teeth.

"She's so cool. I wish I could meet her."

Malleus quickly handed the child off to Sebek. Sebek received no better treatment as the boy pulled on his ears and cheeks. He has pincer-like fingers and speed.

Lilia laughed. Silver was the same way.

Sebek practically tossed Grimm to Silver to deal with. Sliver was fine with Grimm but Lilia's silent pleading made him hand the boy over.

Almost immediately Grimm was asleep as Lilia rocked the boy to sleep. The group sighed in relief.

"So," Sliver spoke up only for a chorus of 'Shh' to stop him. He was just going to ask about the stuffed cat that looked exactly like Grim. Or the fact that his name was Grimm. Just him? Okay.

But the blissful silence didn't last as sirens and shouting were heard.

"Grimm?! Grimm?!" Voices shouted as groups of people searched for the boy.

Safe to say his mother was looking for him.

The group managed to dodge the cops as the found a familiar young woman still wrapped in her night clothes shouting Grimm's name. Bright searchlights haloed around her.

"Yuu?!" Malleus called out as soon as he saw her.

The woman squinted to see through the lights before she gasped. She quietly scrambled through the foliage. She had trouble due to still being in her house shoes, she couldn't even think of changing when her son was missing.

"Mal?" She called trying to see if she was hallucinating.

"Malleus please, you have to help me. My son, he's gone." Yuu begged her hand clutched over her chest.

Malleus didn't know how to respond at first. No words would help. The only thing to ease her is her child.

Lilia came forward and handed the sleeping boy back into his mother's arms.

Yuu's eyes lit up with unimaginable joy like finally breathing after unending suffocation. She fell to her knees as she held him close to her.

"My baby. My sweet baby." She mumbled pressing kisses to his head as tears of relief flowed down her cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you."

The situation took time to clean up as everyone was alerted that Grimm was found. Everyone sighed in relief and returned home. Except for that crotchety old woman next door. Yuu would expect a strongly worded letter soon.

The reunion wasn't what anyone expected but Yuu was no less grateful to her friends.

When they explained the situation, Yuu's eyes dimmed.

"I see, it's my fault." She sighed.

"He was just trying to help you. He doesn't know any better." Sebek rolled his eyes.

"That's the point. He's a child, he doesn't know any better. It's my responsibility not to make him feel responsible for my emotions. He should never see his mother cry. I tried to hid it." Yuu berated herself.

"Yuu, from one parent to another you need to hear this. It's hard, it's always going to be hard, but you're doing great." Lilia said gently pulling Yuu into a hug.

All the stress she had been carrying since she assumed her role as parent bubbles to the surface. All this time she had been carrying the heavy weight of expectations and constantly questioned herself. Everytime she got something wrong she panicked. Every crying fit and scraped knee she blamed on herself. Judging herself based on every parenting manual and blog she read. It all came to the surface.

She felt like she was going to break into pieces.

Suddenly another pair of arms wrapped around her then another and reluctantly another.

This was what she needed. Reassurance.

"Who dares intrude upon my lair." Lilia cackled wrapped in a black blanket.

"I do! Grimm the dragon prince!" Grimm stood proudly over Sebek's(slain in battle, r.i.p) body with a plastic sword in hand.

Grimm had taken to wearing a pair of fake ram horns and pretending to be a dragon recently.

Yuu raised an eyebrow as she drank her tea.

"If you wish to save the princess you must face my minions!" Lilia said waving a hand and sending Silver out to duel with the boy.

"Don't worry! I have my own minions! Go dragon king!Save the princess!" Grimm said sawing his hand this time.

Yuu snorted and held back her laughter as she looked up from her notepad.

Malleus of course assisted as he pretended to battle Lilia.

"Mal are you a king or a minion?" Yuu laughed.

"Are you a princess or are you just wearing a cone hat?" Malleus retorted.

"You've become more sassy with age. Now hurry up and save me." Yuu pouted taking off the pink cone hat.

Malleus picked up Yuu in a princess carry as Grimm cheered.

"My heros~" Yuu giggled as she wrapped her arms around Malleus's neck.

"Where too now my dear princess?"Malleus asked.

"To the study my stead!" She shouted.

Sebet tried to say something before Silver kicked him from their downed position.

"I'm a stead now, am I?" Malleus teased as he carried her off.

Grimm payed no mind. Grandpa Lilia said that they need space. The boy instead leapt onto his uncles who grunted as the air was forced from their lungs.

Upstairs Malleus placed Yuu on her desk chair as she began typing out her new book.

"Finally designed on a name for it?" Malleus asked resting his head on her shoulder.

"Yep, The Lost Prince and the Dragon King"

"Hmm, I like it."

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ladythornofrivia · 8 months

Text

birthday sleep

Shinichiro has been rejected once again, bleeding from a fight. Scarring the girl away was the last thing he needs. His nights were filled up with nightmares—Mikey’s death. Working for the last several years as a nurse, his efforts of saving Mikey, hoping Mikey would heal and recover from the incident has made him more distraught. On the night of his birthday, his friend dragged him out for a celebration at Wakasa’s establishment. What better way to start the night is when they brought tons of girls who are interested in Shinichiro. Uninterested, he went out for a smoke and met a girl with a tattoo, who is more than meets the eye.

pair: Shinichiro x Reader

warnings: sad moments. fluff. smut. mentions of the original timeline. Shinichiro being lonely yet thirsty. fluff/comfort. happy ending. Mdni. Nsfw.

A/N: happy very belated birthday to Shinichiro, who has earned 20 rejections than Leonardo DiCaprio’s Oscar award. At least Shinichiro handles rejections better than…you already know who.

There hasn’t been a day where Shinichiro wouldn’t stop himself from liking one girl to the next. Better than sulking on a corner, he goes up to the next pretty girl he sees at the most random time. And fate hasn’t been kind to him; he got beat up in a fight. When he asked the girl out, his entire forehead bled. He was out, drunk from drinking stupidly and clumsily.

The girl screamed and scrammed, leaving poor Shinichiro out alone on the dark road outside of the closed shop with a saddened look adorned his face with his head slung forward; the bleeding made a whole mess. This is going to look like a crime scene. He called his friends, and as usual, his friends made fun of him for not getting the girl properly. The definition of properly is a foreign concept to Shinichiro.

On this current night, the memories of his bleeding forehead has been long forgotten; every pain he received was in the past. And though hurtful, he’d rather have physical pain than the memories of his younger brother.

Mikey.

When Shinichiro took a caregiving class for an eternal dedication his brother, hoping Mikey would heal, Shinichiro hadn’t realized the world was falling apart around him. Emma packed and bailed without a word, Haruchiyo and Takeomi are still in a ‘no speaking’ terms and Shinichiro’s grandpa passed away. He needed a distraction, to which by liking girls from afar and courting girls, which lead to his epic failure. No words can describe how much he hated being rejected, but it won’t mean he’ll surrender to despair.

But if anything, Shinichiro got sleepy and sloopy, as of late. Mikey’s passing affected Shinichiro so much he wouldn’t help himself to have coping mechanisms. Everything is just a survival tactic, out and in of his world. His body felt numb, but he needed his aggression to release from the painful forlorn he endured from sleepless nights from sacrificing his life as a leader of Black Dragons, and studying to become a caretaker for Mikey.

One night, Wakasa, who has now been established as the own of the nightclub. Wakasa is popular among the ladies, but he never beds with them unless he’s interested in someone that caught his eye.

That is the difference between Shinichiro and Wakasa. Every girl is special in Shinichiro’s eyes, but Wakasa wanted someone who stands out from all the rest of gravitating Wakasa himself. On that night, Wakasa sat beside his long time friend, smoking, as they watched the quiet field with tension air encompassing them. Not even the wind could soothe the darkness inside Shinichiro.

“I’m glad Mikey’s dead. I’d rather have him not suffer when he’s alive,” Wakasa stated.

“Without Mikey, I don’t know how I’m able to cope,” Shinichiro said, slouching his aching back. “I can’t do shit. Everything has gone wrong in my life. Grandpa’s dead, and Emma left. I shouldn’t have neglected her while I was taking care of Mikey. I could only wish that if there’s anything I would like to have back, it would happiness and family.”

Wakasa inhaled the cold air. “You like having family someday. And you like the idea of having someone in your life. It’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad? I got rejected before I even open my mouth,” Shinichiro responded. “The last girl rejected me while my head was bleeding.”

“Well, that’s what you get for being reckless.” Wakasa puffed. “Tell you what, since it’s your birthday today, let’s hang out tonight. It’s on me, Shin. You hang out, get drunk, get any girl that you wanted as long as you’re serious on courting her. Who knows, maybe she’ll take a liking to you. After all, I have a keen eye for special ones. Anybody can be anybody, but as long as they stick out like a sore thumb—in a good way—then everything will fall into place.”

Shinchiro’s sleepless eyes remained motionless. “Mind if I ask where are we heading tonight?”

Looking at the back over his shoulder blade, Wakasa’s lips curved upwards. “I think you know where.”

~~~

Music banged into his ears as his drink refilled for the second glass. The nightclub Wakasa established is excellent. Service, the appearance, the atmosphere, Shinichiro almost feels as if the life of loneliness and hard work has been paid off, despite Mikey’s passing took a toll on him. Everything has been brushed off, forgotten, as if his experiences on taking care of Mikey is non-existent.

Shinichiro closed his eyes, head laying back at the sofa frame to lean on, relaxed. Shinichiro barely looked around, not to girls, at least. One by one, the girls approached Shinichiro to spend time on the floor. While Wakasa encouraged, since he knows that Shinichiro has a thing for girls. Surprisingly, Shinichiro rejected him, which got Wakasa shook. The girls, nonetheless, went onto the dance floor, some hung out with other men who are available for a long chat.

“I thought you said you like girls,” Wakasa assumed. “You love girls, I know you do. Every where you go, when you see girls, you never miss your chance on flirting with them.”

“Not in the mood to talk,” Shinichiro blurted. “I’m just tired. I want to go to sleep and forget about all this shit.”

Wakasa leaned forward. “It’s your birthday today. Loosen up a little. I know there’s still there, the optimistic Shinichiro. You used to smile and laugh, even when beaten down, because you know that you can get through any obstacle.”

“Well, things changed,” Shinichiro whispered to himself.

“It’s not too late to remedy the damages.”

“Can you say the same when my family is dead and gone?”

Sighing, Wakasa snapped his fingers, and one of the servants came over for Wakasa to whisper in the servant’s ear. Minutes later, a lady in blue arrived and went near towards Shinichiro, who was taking a nap at the moment. By the time the lady touched, Shinichiro seized her hand, nearly breaking the bone on her wrist, but quickened his reflex on letting go, thus, leaving the nightclub by saying good night to Wakasa. Not interested in seeing Wakasa’s reaction, Shinichiro decided to end the night by going to a convenience store.

~~~

The convenient store is vacant and soundless, which he preferred. No matter how he looks at his life, he’d rather have quietness once in a while. He may want thrill and adventure, but there comes a time when he needed a quiet space, unlike Wakasa or Takeomi, who preferred to parade themselves with ladies and drinks and loud music. To his previous goals, he wanted to have own a bike shop, but when dreams hit harsh reality, there’s nothing more than an ultimate despair coming at anyone’s way. Everyone’s happiness loses everything when the path changes without a sudden warning. And even if it does, people are still in despair. Life is tough road unless being filthy rich. Though coming from a prestigious family, even when rich, some rich families treated their children as if they’re nothing. Hard work and resilience is all anyone has. Shinichiro soon gave up his dream bike shop to look out for Mikey until his death in July.

“What a mess,” he said to himself. He only bought himself some snacks, soda and a pack of cigarettes. As he went outside the store for a smoking break, he got his lighter to switch it on, but never worked. No matter how much forced he puts in, he wanted to fill in with the familiar taste.

“Need help there, handsome,” a voice said behind him.

Startled, Shincihiro turned around and glanced at girl, who stopped out of the shadows with her thick and baggy leather jacket, red sleeve jumper, covered limb to limb with combat boots. It was cold out at night, her hands tucked into the pockets. Her long curls framed against her gentle face as she took out the lighter she kept with her. As Shinichiro nodded, coaxed, you switched the lighter on and watched as his cigarette lit.

His watchful eyes took every inch and every detail of your visage. You are beautiful, no doubt. Unlike the girls in the club. You exuded quiet confidence, very womanly, even dressing in modest yet alluringly tight-fitted outfit.

“You come here often,” Shinichiro asked.

You squawked a short guffaw. “Is that your pick up line?”

“No,” he said. “I just thought it’s dangerous for a wonderful gorgeous woman like you to be out here alone in the night. There has been stalkers and kidnappers and killers alike.”

Chortling, you said, “Very sweet of you to think of me this way.” The stroke his face, which Shinichiro’s reaction stiffened, then softened at your touch; his face leaned in further, swaying, a little tipsy.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m fine. I just got out from my birthday celebration.”

“Not good?”

“It’s good, but…not my kind of night,” he answered. “I just need peace and quiet. Too many things going all at once.”

“I understand.” Your eyes flickered from his face to his tall stature, still tipsy. “Want me to take you home?”

As you came forward, Shinichiro’s face dropped onto your chest, lulling.

“What’s your address, I’ll take you home.”

Instead of answering you, Shinichiro became unresponsive.

Slinging his arm over your shoulder. Luckily, you didn’t pack up too much stuff , just a phone wallet and cigarettes and lighter carried in your pockets, and carried him all the way back to your apartment. Inside of your apartment, it’s cold and clean, you placed Shinichiro down on the couch with cushioned pillows and thick blanket. Unpacking the snacks and ramen noodles, you strolled into the kitchen and heated up the ramen for him, while making ginger tea in the process with also a glass of sweet orange juice came prepared in case he didn’t like the ginger tea.

Microwave beeped, and the noodles are heated and softened, along with cooked meat you prepped in case of emergency comes. After a long preparation, you set the meal on the table in front of sleeping Shinichiro. After that, you took a long warm shower and changed your casual clothes into comforting ones. One of your arms is covered in whole blue phoenix tattoo. And by the time you returned back at the living room to check on Shinichiro, he woke up from a smell of ramen and ate with his eyes closed, sleepy and peaceful, slurping the savored soup and the contents. He looked adorable while eating. He took the mug off the table and drank the ginger tea. It was a bit bitter so you put the honey in case he hated the taste. To your success, he loved the taste of tea. After a strong alcohol sinking into the digestive system, it must’ve been hurtful. Whatever he’s experiencing at the moment, he needed a moment of solace. After eating the snacks, he went for the orange juice. He hummed, and somehow thanked you even though you haven’t been approaching him. You wanted to give him space out of respect.

Thank god no one else was living with you. Having freedom can be so nice, especially having a handsome man in your place.

Clearing your throat, Shinichiro turned around and saw you with a smile resting on his sleepy face.

“How’s the meal?”

“It’s great,” he said, his back slumping.

“Don’t force yourself to be awake,” you reminded him, perching with your legs stretched near towards Shinichiro’s thigh. Placing your hands over him, you adjusted his slouching back. His face turned green at his drunken state.

“The bathroom’s nearby. I can take you there,” you suggested.

Shinichiro’s hazy eyes gazed at you for a moment. Time stopped for him, his breath taken, his heart palpitated by the sight of your mature beauty. Even after a clean shower, you are more than just a beauty. With your one piece pajama, the blue ink of a koi fish tattoo displayed on your right thigh as you relaxed. Shinichiro’s heart thumped loudly against his ears. This time, it wasn’t from being drunk. He admired you more and more as his anxiety risen from you being so close to him on the couch. The fainted scent wafted through nostrils; his head became fuzzier with dying consciousness. He never met you before; hasn’t seen you around in the parts everywhere in Japan. Maybe he wasn’t looking hard enough.

“Have we ever met?” he asked.

“No, this is our first time meeting each other,” you said, positioning your arm on the couch frame. “Why? Did we meet somewhere?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just…you sound different.”

Perplexed, your head tilted. “Different? How so?”

“You don’t sound native,” he blurted, blushing. “I hope I didn’t offend you or anything.”

“Not at all,” you said. “I’ve been trying to study Japanese ever since I got here.”

“How long?”

“Around two years total,” you answered.

Whistling, Shinichiro splayed himself back at the couch frame, lifting one foot up. “I’m impressed. Not everyone handles Japanese easy. How did you learn it so fast?”

You shrugged. “Boredom.”

“Boredom? You mean you don’t have…”

“I neither have friends or anyone to converse with. Let’s just say that I’m in my own head space,” you explained.

“I see…” Shinichiro looked down at his drink, then drained the liquid substance into his throat as he eyed on you. “Didn’t mean to get drunk on you. It must’ve been a lot to take in.”

Shrugging, you said, “Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“Today’s my birthday.”

Smiling, you greeted him. But it remains noticeable when his expression wasn’t changing. “Sounds like you’re having a rough time. Do you want to talk about it?”

Placing the glass down, Shinichiro sighed, though his breath was uneven, shaking each time he exhaled. “I couldn’t celebrate without remembering that day.”

“What day?”

“The day when my brother passed away.” Shinicihiro’s steadied hand shielded on his face. “I couldn’t bear to acknowledge of my brother’s passing with acceptance. It’s all of my fault. If only I didn’t buy the airplane.”

“You’re only trying to make him happy. I don’t think it’s your fault,” you reasoned.

“But it was,” he objected. “I didn’t watch him closely. With much responsibility, I had to make sure I do everything I can to make him stay alive, hoping for the better result. Deep down, I knew that his condition got worse. Even his friends saw him the last time. If only I didn’t make that little error, it could’ve change everything. I shouldn’t have bought that plane.” By then, Shinichiro broke down into tears.

You scooted closer to him, rubbing on his back as your arm encompassed him, emitting a hush sound. “Shhh…everything will be alright, I know this. Even when your brother passed away, I’m sure that, somewhere, his soul is at peace. I’m sure that he’s happy that you took care of him the entire time.”

“I neglected everything that surrounds me. I neglected Emma,” he reasoned. “She packed and left, not knowing where she is. My grandfather died. And Mikey was the only family I have left. I have no one in my life now.”

“You have friends,” you assumed.

“My friends won’t understand,” he wept, sniffling. “That’s why I got drunk, because of Wakasa. He wanted me to get my mind off of Mikey by dragging me into a club and get a girl to mingle with. It wasn’t great. I was zoning out from life before me. I wasn’t having it.”

Your hand smoothed his back, noticing his breath began to steady after releasing the frustration he held in. Your eyes prickled with hot sensation, trying not to breakdown in front of him, but came up with a notion of subsiding the emotional pain. “I have 3 large packs of ice cream in the freezer. Sometimes desserts can set a good mood and lessens the tension. Just tell me which flavor you want and I’ll scoop it up for you.”

Shinichiro’s heart thudded. It wasn’t the alcohol again. One thing’s for sure for how the sensation clamored inside him. He felt…light. And right. Everything’s…quiet. His heart rate dissipated to tranquil as his eyes looked at you. Deep into the very soul of your eyes, he felt himself tranced, balanced between mind and heart—his old self was dying to get out. But each time he wants it out, the flooding memories of his old life might hurt him again. He wanted peace now. But how he can have peace when being silent within consistency. He’s not a young leader rebelled Black Dragons anymore. He’s just a young man with a burden scarred him.

You leaned back, separating yourself from him. “We’ll eat every junk food up. I swear, this can be the best method, but taking care of yourself in a healthy lifestyle. But first, junk food!” Then slowly, you stood up. “I know a place where they have the best pizza and burger and nacho cheese—nacho cheese are great! It comes with blue raspberry slushy, or cherry, if you like it more than the blue raspberry. And we could watch any movie that you like—trust me, watching comedy can be fun! Oh, and if you want something else, we can order sushi but with wasabi and katsu curry, and then we can add another pile of food we can ea—”

Snatching your wrist, he pulled you in for a kiss. Groaning, your long locks tucked back under his hand, tangling his tongue with yours, saliva thickened as you two share a heated passion he yearned. You nearly collapsed at his sudden yank, nearly knocking off the coffee table, but Shinichiro remedied it with his both hands steadying you by the waist, slithering the lines on your body. With a quiet hum, his lips lead to nibbling your cheek, kissing it lightly, almost his softer side is shown.

“You’re tickling me,” you sighed in exhilaration.

He pulled his head to see your flushed expression. “Where have you been all of my life?”

“Studying and doing things alone by myself without anyone being there for me,” you answered, cheeky. In a flash, you gave him a wink.

“Gee,” Shinichiro began, “I find it hard to believe that a beautiful woman is standing before me.”

Shaking your head, you said, “I’m not beautiful.”

Refusing your reply, “Beautiful doesn’t cover up how it feels or looks. I just know a beautiful soul when I see one.”

You said nothing, eyeing him with anticipation glimmering from your eyes.

“It’s pretty corny,” he admitted, his face flushed, index finger scratched the cheek below the eye.

Your hand rested on his face. “God, you’re so cute!” Tip of your nose rubbed against his as you let out a tiny squeal. Shinichiro watched you, his heart elated, eagerly pulling you closer to his body frame even though your bodies touched, he deepened the force, leaving you gasping, though not in a bad way.

“You want to get to know each other more? Unless you want to take a nap, it’s up to you,” you asked, eyes sparkling, hands wrapped around his neck, your lips are inches away to poke his.

His dark, cloudless eyes burned into your eyes as you watched it gleam. The misery etched on his lips faded into something more.

~~~

The door slammed open as you shared another long kiss with Shinichiro without falling or looking at your surroundings. Quiet sighs as your kisses went sloppy, and hungrier than the first. Once he rested you on an open futon bed, he placed you, laying down on your belly.

“Aaahh, Shinichiro!” your moans erected as Shinichiro took off of your tights shorts and spanked it.

“You’re such a slut, do you know that?” he said, his breath tickled your ass as he gave no warning when his teeth gnawed on your naked skin.

“Ahh,” you moaned out once more, turning yourself around as your legs spread before him. “Please fuck me! Right here, in my wet pussy. Lick me, fuck me, destroy me.”

Shinichiro watched as his stature towere over you, a beguiling creature displayed before him. He has collected porn than dates in his lifetime, but seeing you, he wanted to take a slow, showing trust as newfound partners.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice had gone indistinct.

But you can distinguished the mood in his tone.

“You won’t hurt me,” you assured him, indicating him to move closer. “You won’t hurt me,” you repeated, plopping your kisses.

Shinichiro took into a consideration and unrestricted his attire. His black, baggy shirt came off as his pants are assisted by you. When his pants came undone, your hands clamped on his underwear, brought down as you spotted thick and lush hairlines—his happy trail downwards to his long and thick cock, leaking out with thick semen. His cold fingers pressed your tattooed skin, numbed clit throbbed at his touch.

Shinichiro could see your eyes begging him to rut you. His hands splayed and held your leg, kissing your inner thigh, then your lips as his cock shoved into your tight walls. With your wailed moans, Shinchiro sped his stamina. He hasn’t felt this good since the Black Dragon days. He had spent his life chasing girls who don’t approve of him, not even his weakened state, not even at his worst, or even as himself. His days during with Mikey, he rarely looked at girls, even when girls asked him to be their date, they only do it to get closer to Wakasa or Takeomi. Shinichiro is neither like them. Wakasa is quietly fierce while Takeomi is a chaotic and unruly. They both get girls but none of them stick in the next few months. With Shinichiro, he wanted something more than a simple date. Realizing his family his gone, all that’s left for him is to make a new one, but diving further to despair was the only way.

“More! Yes!” you groaned loudly, gyrating. His hot and thick cock fit you perfectly. The tip of his long, hardened cock pressed roughly against your g-spot. With a hot wave clambered into your body, Shinichiro picked up his pace and slammed it again onto your g-spot, earning a louder moans compare to previously. Fingers clawed onto his lanky, muscular backside, Shinichiro felt wet and warm blood stinging in cold air. His thrusts grew harder; with his few pounding movements, he felt your walls tightened, twitched against him.

“Shin,” you wailed into his hair, biting your lower lips.

“Argh,” he said, “hold me tight, baby.”

Despite the bleak memories he held with him, it was about time to end.

Tip of his cock twitch, leaking a hot seed into your hole. With countless immeasurable sighs, your bodies melded into one when Shinichiro laid beside you and held you in his arms, face to face. “I love you, (y/n),” he said. “I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. Your wrongs, your struggles, your greatest strength and joy—everything. I want to be there with you until the end. I want us to stay together.” His hand brushed your locks. With his soft touch lingered, your heart prickled.

“I love you more,” you said, weeping.

He kissed atop off of your hairline, then your nose, lips, and rubbed his nose together with yours. “Will you please go on a date with me,” he said with a shy voice. He’s not like Wakasa or Takeomi, Shinichiro knows what he wanted, what he needed. With you, all his inner turmoil with work and personal life and Mikey’s passing, Shinichiro wasn’t worried anymore. Shinichiro wanted an eternal happiness with you at his side, even with a scorching hell in life, he rekindled.

Chortling, you said, “How can I say no to a handsome man like you?”

Not long after, your bodies shifted under the washed sheets, no longer needing the heater.

By the end of the night, after a total of five rounds of intensive sexual intercourse, Shinichiro’s head rested in between your breasts. His soft, and disheveled, black hair played in between your fingers. Kissing his messy hair, you said, “Happy Birthday, Shinichiro.”

~~~

When Shinichiro got out from your house after sharing wonderful breakfast and a heated kiss, he spotted Wakasa approaching him with dreadful silence.

With a smile, Wakasa uttered, “Are you winning, Shin?”

please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. thank you.

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tripleyeeet · 10 months

Text

IN ANOTHER UNIVERSE, MAYBE (2)

SUMMARY: It's always been hard being the sibling of a superhero. Lately though, it feels next to impossible.

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,136

WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent, descriptions of a panic attack/dissociate behaviours, inappropriate use of medication/alcohol consumption.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, first of all, the amount of love I've received from this fic has been insane??? Like, y'all really knocked it out of the park, both here and on AO3 and I'm absolutely astounded? Thank you so much! You guys have literally motivated me so much so hopefully this chapter lives up to the hype of the first? :)

CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

“God, I am never drinking again.”

You stumble into the living room with your hands against your eyes, palming the sockets roughly. It’s morning, maybe even early afternoon, and already the sun is pushing through the blinds, coating the apartment in enough light that it makes you squint. On the couch Miguel grumbles under the covers as you walk by, pulling the fabric over his head as he readjusts his position, directing himself away.

You’re surprised to see him there but say nothing, opting to wander into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water, noticing a fresh sticky note on the fridge: Call me when you’re up —Pete!

Hm, he must’ve gone over to MJ’s for the night.

Peeling the note away, you continue your trek for hydration, grabbing a glass that you fill and chug down twice before feeling satisfied enough to continue. Or at least, enough to survive considering just how sore you are. From your knees down you can feel the leftover aches from walking home; the many miles you’d managed to travel in your drunken state now heavy on your mind. There are at least one or two blisters on each foot thanks to your poor choice of footwear while the muscles surrounding your shins feel like they might actually be burning through your flesh.

As you walk back through the living room you try not to groan at the pain, turning your attention to Miguel who’s now reluctantly awake.

“Morning, grandpa.”

You walk over and press the sticky note to his forehead, ignoring the way he swears under his breath and looks at you with narrowed eyes.

“It’s not nice to assault people with sticky notes before they’ve had coffee.”

Shrugging in response, you walk back to your bedroom to grab your phone, listening to the creak of your couch as Miguel shifts out of place.

It’s weird that he’s still here. After everything that happened last month, you were certain you’d never have to see him again. Being Peter’s boss and not much else, he’d become nothing more than a disdainful memory as time went on. A poor impression from the past that Peter never talked about. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting to hear about him so soon, much less see him, especially without his mask.

So seeing him here, sitting so nonchalantly on your couch is a bit strange. Off-putting in a way that leaves you emotionally winded as you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at your notifications.

There’s about half a dozen apologies from Peter alone, each variation more extreme than the last. Mixed between there’s a few memes and a picture of him pretending to cry on MJ’s floor with the caption sorry for being the worst brother, which you immediately save for future use. There’s also one from Harry asking you to send him a work email that you ignore and another from Gwen once again asking you to come for brunch.

You glance at the time, noticing that it’s nearing eleven. She and Harry are probably already at their usual spot, munching away on overpriced, organic eggs and inhaling mimosas. (Something you'd normally enjoy but can’t quite fathom doing thanks to the pain currently rippling through your body.)

Groaning, you curl further into the bed, feeling your head shift like an ocean wave that sends you flying across the room. In response, you shut your eyes as tight as possible, hoping that if you roll with the movements you’ll get used to them faster.

Immunity through the power of will and all that.

“I see you’re still alive.”

You refuse to open your eyes. You need to focus on getting better —on pushing through the swirling motions that attack your brain because if you don’t you’ll be stuck here all day, helpless and in pain and way too dizzy. No longer will you be a person, but instead a shell. A fragile casing of sensitive flesh stretched over bruising bone that will slowly but surely deteriorate over time.

“Are you always this dramatic?”

The urge to argue persists, flowing through you just quick enough that you find yourself opening one eye, noticing his stance.

He’s standing nonchalantly in the centre of your room; hands placed neatly on his hips. On his face, the tiniest of smirks pokes out of the corner of his mouth, prompting you to lift your head, blinking at what feels like a rare sight.

“Are you always this hostile?”

“Only in the morning.”

“Even towards complete strangers?”

“Especially to strangers.”

“Makes sense why you don’t have many friends.”

“And how would you know that, stranger?”

He’s got that teasing tone that Harry always has. The one that sounds so condescending that it borders flirtation. Immediately it makes you roll your eyes and direct your attention back to your phone, realizing just how little you want to continue this conversation. You’re too hungover. Too sick and tired to do this whole back-and-forth thing, so instead you call Peter, putting the call on speakerphone with a sigh.

It rings twice before the other end clicks to life, a very joyful and awake Peter greeting the both of you. “Good morning friends, how are we doing on this beautiful morning?”

Almost in unison both of you grumble out a quiet fine that makes Peter laugh, prompting you to look at each other with shared disgust.

“Are you hungover?”

“What do you think?”

“Gwen called me this morning,” he says, changing the subject. “She wants to go for brunch.”

“That’s nice, but I will not be attending on the account of the fact that I’d rather die.”

“So dramatic,” Miguel chimes in.

Ignoring him, you place your phone onto the pillow next to you and tighten the covers around your throat.

Your head is still spinning but less so, the waves feeling more like lakeside tides than oceanic swells, leaving you thankful. There’s nothing worse than the spins after a night out. You can handle the stomach aches and even the vomiting but the second you can feel that mental drift you’re a goner.

“Okay well, MJ and I are going to go if you change your mind. Miguel, you're welcome to come too.”

“No thanks,” he says, unsurprisingly.

There’s a pause after that. One that lasts a solid five seconds but feels like a lifetime longer thanks to the way Miguel continues to stand there, staring at your pathetic frame tucked haphazardly beneath the covers.

“You know staring is rude, right?”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, and weird too considering I barely know you.”

“You saying it’s weird for strangers to stare at strangers?”

“A little, yeah, so knock it off.”

He gives in, his eyes diverting towards the window before they move to the door, motivating his body to leave the room without another word. Once he’s gone you let out a sigh of relief and listen to his footsteps, hearing the way they move through the living room and into the kitchen.

It makes you wonder why he’s even still here, taking up space in a home he isn’t really welcome in. You figured it was obvious from the beginning that he was nothing more than an overnight guest. A protective stand-in meant to slip away in the dead of night with no word or note. He was never meant to linger the way he is now and a part of you wonders if he already knows. If instead of picking up and applying said social cues, he’s opting to ignore them for some higher purpose.

It wouldn’t make much sense but then again, you don’t really know Miguel so maybe he’s just a lingerer. Maybe he’s socially awkward and doesn’t understand that when you’re being mean to him it means you want him to leave your house so you can vomit in peace.

“I see you guys are getting along.”

“Swimmingly.”

“Did you two have a good night?”

“Yes, oh my god it was amazing!”

“Really?”

You offer a fake laugh that Miguel walks in on, raising his brow in confusion. “No, we had a terrible time. Your boss is mean, Peter.”

Offended, Miguel opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it, watching the way you smirk beneath the covers, watching his brows knit together.

“How am I mean? I walked you home didn’t I?”

“Sure, begrudgingly.”

He scoffs, his palms moving to encompass his hips again. “I didn’t realize I was supposed to enjoy walking you home. I’ll remember that next time.”

Next time?

You narrow your eyes and stare directly at him, noticing the way he mirrors your expression. It’s subtle at first, the way the crinkles of his eyes sort of deepen to match the lines across his forehead. His skin is rough —aged looking most likely due to the fact he probably slept terribly— and the bags beneath his eyes are the heaviest you’ve ever seen, even rivalling Peter’s on some of his rougher days. Like you, he looks more like a corpse than a person, his face devoid of anything other than the sickened frustration of having to deal with your attitude.

“I’m gonna be honest if you’re ever running late again, please call someone else.”

It’s obvious you’re talking to Peter but as you speak you continue staring at the man in front of you, glaring at the way his weight shifts beneath your gaze.

You hope he’s uncomfortable. You hope he’s embarrassed or at least feeling a little self-conscious for acting like such a child in a space that he hopefully never feels welcome in. If you were him you’d certainly be.

“Yeah, so, anyway, is that still a no to breakfast or…?”

You’re beginning to regret ever wanting to get involved in Peter’s double life. Or at least, its most recent developments. Up until last month, everything was fine. Simple and controlled and not at all hectic like it is now. Back then, everything was smooth sailing when it came to helping. Your only responsibilities being lie to May and make sure the window was always unlocked before you went to bed. Two very mundane tasks you could practically do in your sleep.

Nowadays, it feels like an endless loop of stress. Kind of like when you were eighteen and just finding out that your brother was a superhero for the first time. Everything is complicated again. The stakes feel higher than ever before knowing the truth that there’s a world out there just like yours, endlessly repeating. That instead of just one Spider-Man there’s probably a million variations doing the same thing Peter’s doing.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you look at everything differently —intensively. With each new person you pass you wonder what their version is like somewhere else. Are they still male or female? Are they younger? Older?

As you walk into brunch alongside Peter and MJ, it’s all you can think about as you stare at Gwen, remembering her counterpart. How she looked so familiar but you couldn’t quite place it.

You realize now that it’s because she’s your Gwen, but not. A direct copy but a good decade younger. They have the same hair colour and eyes and that little gap between their front teeth and upon seeing her it makes you wearily shift into your seat, putting on your fakest smile.

She’s already a bit tipsy when you arrive, you can tell. Her eyes are half closed and the grin plastered across her face is hazardously wide.

“Oh, my god, hi! I’m so glad you came!”

If it weren’t for the table between you she’d be pulling you in for a hug, tightening her grip around your shoulders until the air inside you was gone. You inhale nervously at the thought, wondering if other Gwen would do the same.

It’s hard to tell what traits transfer over. Considering she’s a spider person in her universe it’s more than likely she’s completely different, right? Perhaps relating more to Peter. It’d make sense that all spider people kind of have the same vibe. Perhaps like your brother, they’re nerdy and into photography and have partners with nicknames that double as their initials. Like him they'd live double lives, trying their best to find the balance between being crime-fighting arachnids and regular civilians with the help of their sisters.

Or brothers. You figure in other universes you’re probably a guy too. Hell, maybe even in some you're the spider person having to navigate through life with the help of your brother.

“Sorry we’re late,” Pete grins, pulling out the chair beside you so that MJ can sit down. “Somebody had a bit too much to drink.”

You shoot him a look as he sits at the head of the table, sticking out his tongue for good measure.

You hope in the universe where you have superpowers you give him a hard time.

“It’s fine, we overdid it too,” Gwen says, looking at Harry who rolls his eyes and looks at Peter, the two of them sharing a knowing glance.

“Hope you wore a condom,” you say, at which MJ and Gwen gasp, both of their mouths curling into cheeky grins that you can’t help but share.

Its always been obvious that the two of them are together, even though neither of them would ever admit it. It’s weird but Gwen says it’s a part of the intrigue, having this unlabeled relationship that she can just ride without the responsibility of making it a bit deal.

Both you and MJ think it’s because she secretly likes the drama of it all, but knowing how she’d react to such a claim, neither of you says that out loud.

“Did you make it home okay?” Gwen changes the subject before anyone can even join in, making you sort of sad because you love to tease.

“Relatively. Threw up on the walk home but that’s New York, baby.”

“Walk home?” Harry questions.

You freeze, remembering Miguel. He doesn’t exist in this world. At least, not to anyone other than you and Pete and maybe MJ. You’re not entirely sure what he’s told her but you figure she knows in some capacity because he wouldn’t have called you otherwise.

“I mean drive, sorry, drive home. I’m still hungover.” You try to laugh it off but Harry and Gwen share that look. The familiar one where they think you’re lying but know better than to actually bring it up. It’s the same look they give you sometimes when you’re covering for Peter and you hate it, feeling your chest tighten every time it’s shared right in front of your face.

It reminds you of how you felt having Miguel around. Something about the way he looks at you every time you talk fills you with that familiar twang of insignificance. Like whatever you say isn’t good enough.

With your friends you know it’s because you’re insecure about your lying capabilities. With Miguel though, it’s different. Yes, it feels the same physically but emotionally it’s an entirely new set of feelings. Ones that have you second-guessing their origins, remembering the way your stomach would twist each time he’d insult you. Each time he’d look at you with those dark eyes and pouting mouth.

Thinking about it now, he reminds you very little of Peter. Aside from the moniker of Spider-Man the only similarities (so far) you can confidently say that they share is the art of sarcasm and deflection. The way their voices can become so monotonous at the drop of a hat is unparalleled, even with all the tension, and it’s frustrating.

It makes you wish you didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve. Like Peter and Miguel, you wish you could box it all up in the form of calm words so that nobody even got the chance to look at you the way Harry and Gwen still are.

Secretly, you wish you were the spider person of this universe. Not because you want to save lives, selfishly. No, you mostly just wish you were stronger like them. Less like yourself and more like your brother who sits at the head of the table holding MJ’s hand with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

And not so secretly, you want what he has. You want to be confident and to have people look at you in a way that’s filled with adoration. To have them survey you and conclude that you’re decent rather than picking out your flaws. You want May to look at you with fondness. You want her to be proud of you in the same way she’s proud of Peter and to affirm your belief that you’re doing alright for yourself even without filling her desires for grandkids.

You want Harry to look at you with respect. To stop looking through you just because you’re Parker’s sister who just so happens to be smart too. You want him to take him as seriously as he takes Gwen without the sex. Without the implication that to be valued, you need to provide him with something worthwhile.

You want Gwen to appreciate everything you do for her. To stop taking advantage of you at work and in life —to provide you with the comfort of an actual friend.

You want value, you decide. Whether that’s through the gain of superpowers or not. All you want is a little bit more than you’re given and you wish you could express that as you sit at the table, watching everyone talk and laugh as if you’re not really there.

Beside you, MJ leans into Peter as he talks, resting her chin on her hand in longing silence while the two across the table sit, completely engrossed. You try your best to listen in too, picking up that the story involves his boss over at the Bugle. Something about how his last few pictures of Spider-Man were so good he nearly fell off his chair.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and pull out your phone, scanning the screen mindlessly, clicking on apps and profiles over and over again until the waitress shows up and asks for your order. You get a mimosa regardless of your hangover and a bagel breakfast sandwich with all the extra fixings, knowing you need it. Then you wait. Wordlessly exhausted, wishing that instead of deciding to tag along you’d stayed at home under the comfort of your covers.

Once you step over the threshold of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief and sink into the couch alongside Peter who rubs his face. By now your social battery is running at a negative ten, making your mind fill with nervous thoughts that have you frowning as you curl into yourself, clutching your knees to your chest.

You shouldn’t have gone, you decide then. Regardless of the extended invitation, it was obvious you were only invited because Gwen was drunk and felt bad. That’s usually how it went nowadays.

“They’re a lot, aren’t they?”

Peter’s always known how much you struggle with people —how you overthink every interaction after it’s happened. It’s how it’s always been and he’s used to it.

As you nod, you feel his hand against your shoulder, tightening. It’s a gesture of understanding but at the moment it feels like pity so you brush him off, frowning even harder.

“You okay?”

You aren’t. You’re overstimulated from the amount of interacting you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours. From Harry and Gwen to Miguel and back you haven’t had a break all day and you can feel your mask slipping. Physically, your chest is aching for a breath you can’t quite get, the realization of your interactions pushing you over the edge and all you want to do is scream.

You were such an asshole today. Sure, you’re always kind of mean but this morning specifically felt like a step above the rest with the way you argued with Miguel as if you knew him. As if last night was just another night between you, adding to countless others. You were brash and unwelcoming and rude, and despite how you feel about him sometimes, you still feel pretty shit about it.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Your tone is stubborn, dripping with an arrogance that has Pete sighing because he knows he can’t do much. When you’re in these moods all he can really do is let you live through your anger —to explore the hate you feel inside in private. It’s how you’ve always done things. So when Peter looks at you with sympathy you can know that’s it. He won’t press the matter further. He’ll just get up and leave and go to MJ’s for the night. Check-in in the morning like he usually does.

As he stands you’re met with feelings of both relief and regret, watching the way he carefully pats your head and steps over your legs. Inside, your stomach drops as he wanders to the doorway, slipping on his shoes and coat without saying a word, knowing that it never solves anything —just makes it all messy.

Again, like always, you wish you were like him in these instances. Because maybe then you could have a normal relationship that doesn’t rely on boundaries you wish didn’t exist. Instead of pushing everyone away you could sit with them —talk to them. Express instead of repress. Prove to them that the love you want is the love you deserve.

If you were in any other universe you’re certain you could do it. In this one though?

You’re too scared.

When you’re alone, it happens, the calm before the storm.

As the hours move and you lay exhausted on the couch staring at your phone, you find yourself scrolling. Distracting yourself from the inevitable breaking point by watching YouTube video after YouTube video. First, you start with your usual poison, simple documentaries about things like haunted houses or murder cases that remained unsolved. Lazily, you click thumbnail and thumbnail, half absorbing all the names and dates and details as you lie prone, trying not to think about it.

It takes hours for you to fully accept your emotions and when you do it’s a mess. Now lying in bed, it’s nearing eight and your deep dive on unsolved mysteries has turned into videos discussing the topics of the multiverse. You’re not sure why you decided to delve into all that but regardless, as you do you’re in your head again, clutching a pillow tightly against your cheek as you try to steady your thoughts.

You bet Miguel’s world has a version of you that’s nicer. One that treats him with respect. They’re probably a spider person too which is why he looks at you with such disdain every time you argue. You’re a lesser version of them —no comparison. They’re better and it drives you insane, thinking that the approval of a man you hardly know is important.

Aside from Peter, there’s absolutely nothing connecting you. You’re from different worlds both literally and figuratively, so it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.

Except that it does, doesn’t it? Deep down, regardless of how well you know one another, this man has managed to find his way inside your skin. You’re not sure when or how or why but somehow he’s always there, lingering at the back of your mind like a memory. Like he’s absent until he’s not —until something reminds you that he exists and that he thinks you’re too inexperienced to understand that he doesn’t like you.

You figure he doesn’t like you because you’re stubborn. You’re sure there are other reasons but that’s the only one that really jumps out. The way he speaks to you is a direct example of that. Changing subjects often, he doesn’t like when you push his pull. Doesn’t like when you defy his authority or pry. He wants complete and total control and when you’re around he knows he doesn’t have that. You don’t trust him enough to give it.

His version of you probably gives him whatever he wants. Probably spoils him by following him around like some lost fucking puppy. They’re probably older than you —experienced— and have the backbone of an earthworm.

He probably loves it.

Shoving your face into your pillow you let out a loud groan, letting the tears well and overflow against the fabric of your pillowcase.

It’s sudden, the storm. Erupting out of nowhere over something that shouldn’t matter. Quickly, there’s a rage that fills inside you, quietly creeping from the depths of your soul in the form of breathless gasps and shaky hands.

You turn upwards to face the ceiling, the tears coating your eyes in a layer of disarray. You can’t see anything but the blurred beige above you. Everything moves like brushstrokes across the canvas, thick and liquidy and not quite good-looking. It makes you blink in annoyance and throw your forearms over your head, trying to stop the world from letting you see or shake or feel anything other than regret.

It’s painful, the storm. It feels like a deep wound being opened back up again. All the build-up of scar tissue is there, shoved amongst the perfectly good parts. Usually, they linger there together but as the wound is peeled open by your own hand, you can feel the worst of it start to push.

As it surfaces, you can feel the catalyst begin to wake. The rate at which the chemicals in your brain begin to increase, pushing you over the edge.

It fucking hurts.

By now your wound is gaping, ripping at the base of your chest. It’s hard to breathe under all the pressure of the damaged flesh. Under all the memories of a life you once thought was good. Decent

In another universe, you hope to god you feel just like this. Like the world is caving in and you’re the last survivor. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone —so beside yourself while everyone else so carelessly continues moving.

It helps calm the storm. Thinking of you —another you. Regardless of if they’re better or worse or completely equal to you, the thought of this feeling extending across the expanse of a place you don’t quite understand fills you with ease.

It closes the hole in your chest —pushes all the tainted flesh back inside for safekeeping. Slowly, it settles into something you can handle again, sewing up the edges that’ll inevitably leave a new scar.

As you sit up from your bed, brushing past the tears to clear your vision, you feel your breath begin to steady. A slow one-through-five inhale, followed by another one-through-five exhale, each one becoming stronger than the last as you look towards the window, noticing the familiar blue and red spandex standing silently on your fire escape.

He doesn’t move when you notice him. Doesn’t fly through the air or duck out of sight. Standing there, it’s as if instead of flesh he’s made of stone, unwavering in his attempts to watch you carefully through the window. It’s scary if you’re honest. The way he looks so detached from the world. Even without seeing his face, it’s as if there’s nothing behind the angered design that adorns his features below. His emotions feel completely blank underneath the fabric, making you wonder.

What’s he thinking about?

As you inch toward the edge of the bed, you see him twitch. It’s subtle. The fingers of his right hand sort of jolt lightly in the air, and it’s over before you can even think about it, so you don’t. Instead choosing to forget as you move towards the window.

Surprisingly, he still doesn’t move. All he does is breathe, letting the rise and fall of his chest ruin the image of his fixed stance. He’s nervous, like you, you determine. Scared, like you.

It motivates your movements, pushing you through the room until you’re standing in front of the window, reaching for it with shaky hands.

Why hasn’t he left yet?

You push open the window, slowly, watching his body begin to move towards it, his leg pushing through the moment you step away.

“What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t respond. At first, you assume it’s because he’s embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say but then he moves. Lifelessly, he brushes past you and wanders into the living room, forcing you to follow as he drops onto the couch with a groan.

Seriously, why is he here?

You open your mouth to repeat your previous question but are interrupted by his mask. Almost instantly, it disintegrates before your very eyes, revealing fresh injuries that have you holding your tongue because laying there, he looks like Peter after a rough night. Maybe even worse thanks to the shiner that takes a good portion of his left eye.

“Do you have any painkillers?”

You don’t even respond before you leave the room, wandering into your bathroom to grab the usual meds you give Peter. They’re prescription, originally given to you for period cramps, but they do wonders on a battered body.

When you reenter, Miguel’s face is scrunched in pain, struggling to find comfort. Because of this, you practically run to the kitchen, grabbing all the usual items: water, ice packs, scotch, carrying it all in one go.

“What’s the scotch for?”

You untuck a glass from the crook of your elbow and settle on the floor beside the couch, pouring it halfway to the top before downing it.

“None for me?”

You pour another one. “You’re not meant to take it with pills but Peter always says it makes him sleep better.”

“Okay.”

You’re no doctor, but you’ve experienced this same formula countless times. If he takes one pill with one full glass of water then drinks the scotch, followed by another water he’ll be out like a light in no time.

“Pill, water, scotch, water,” you instruct, watching him closely as he follows suit, chugging back everything in under a minute.

After it’s done he settles into the couch again, tucking ice packs against his face and chest before glancing your way with a grin. “Stuff’s nice. Goes down good.”

He sounds like he’s been hit by a bus, his voice rubbed raw, scratching your brain in a way that makes you squint as you pour yourself another glass.

“Good cause it cost a pretty penny.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, opting to sip this one, still feeling the burn of the other radiating throughout your chest. “Ben bought it for me. A graduation present or something.”

“Wasn’t that ages ago?”

“Your point?”

All he does is grin and close his eyes.

TAGGING: @fandxmslxt69 @buckysblondie @leucoratia @avatricu @rexxesgirl @hoe4fiction @erissco @dil3mma @ashjbu @mfrnchsk @sanjisluvbot @deputy-videogamer (if you'd like to be added fill out this form)

#who are you when nobody's watching?#miguel o'hara fan fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara series #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #summer writes

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shu-box-puns · 1 year

Text

This brainworm is lovingly called ‘Who’s your daddy?’ in my avatar prompt word doc.

Note: This is a potential fic idea if people are interested in seeing it in full.

DO NOT steal or I’m crawling under your mattress tonight.

Summary: Tuk wraps the recoms around her little finger. A play date with the enemy.

Context: The recoms got revived and sent into the forest. Mansk got briefly separated from his squad, he could still hear them close by, but he couldn’t see them.

Tuk got separated from her siblings and was wandering aimlessly around the forest until a recom stumbled across her (probably Mansk) who was scared shitless by her. Despite her tiny stature, this man has to have some form of PTSD after dying to the na’vi.

Tuk doesn’t give a shit that this weird man is dressed in RDA military wear or that she can’t see his eyes - those sunglasses are GLUED to his face, no wind could possibly remove them - nor that he carries a gun longer than she is tall. All she sees is an adult that’s capable of protecting her and helping her back home. Close to tears, she holds her hands out and makes grabby hands up at Mansk who is just furiously backpedalling trying to get away from her.

His panic makes her panic and she runs after him assuming there’s a thanator or something that spooked him. Still crying. Still grabbing at his pant legs or tail. Whatever is in reach.

Mansk trips on a root or something, and Tuk flings herself down into his lap, latching on tight and squirming to get his arms around her and the soldier is just frozen solid. He’s not breathing. He’s not blinking. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He doesn’t do kids. He doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do with them, let alone how to comfort one. His nieces back on earth wanted nothing to do with him. And here is this na’vi child sobbing into his bullet proof vest like he’s her dad or something.

Hesitantly, he brings up his hands and awkwardly pats her on the back, which just makes her cry harder and he wants to disappear.

One thing leads to another and he manages to get his feet back under him and has the little na’vi cradled to his chest. She’s stopped crying, cheek pressed into his shoulder with her fingers curled tight into his shirt.

Just Mansk regrouping with the squad cradling a literal child.

Wainfleet is like: when did you have the time?

And Quaritch is a tired Dad, now Grandpa.

Anyway, within hours, Tuk has the entire Deja Blue Squad wrapped around her little finger. They’re bringing her fruit. Z-Dog has discovered all the ways to make her laugh. Fike is just as confused as Mansk because Tuk has decided he must also hold her because her feet got tired.

And the whole time, she pretends not to know English, just grins evilly as these adults scramble to figure out a plan since the RDA is going to want to confiscate her if she goes back with them. Then there’s a full blown argument about taking her back to her clan and how long it would take. Not even Tuk knows the answer to that one.

I wanna say that Wainfleet tucks her into his jacket and with the help of the other recoms surrounding him, they manage to successfully smuggle her into the recom quarters. Mansk finds her a little breathing mask and she’s all set.

At some point, she definitely breaks into someone’s wardrobe and demands the recoms play dress up with her like she does with Neteyam and Lo’ak. She’s definitely dressed in someone’s labcoat - Mansk has no idea who she stole it from - complete with scientist goggles. Meanwhile some poor recom is dressed in various weird clothing combinations with all sorts of leaves in their hair.

Tuk: “Do you, or do you not feel bonita?” Some unsuspecting recom: “I feel bonita.” Tuk: “Wonderful because you look bonita.”

Mansk is probably her favourite because he’s quiet like Neteyam. Always listening to her endless narrating. And even if it seems he isn’t, as in he’s cleaning something or multitasking, she knows he’s paying attention because one of his ears is always pointed towards her and he nods and grunts in all the right places.

Wainfleet gives me fun uncle vibes. If she comes up with some sort of prank, he’s definitely the go to man to get it sorted.

Meanwhile Quaritch sees her as a means to get to the na’vi, but gradually softens and develops some sort of soft spot for her. I call him grandpa because he gives me old man, too tired to run after the kid vibes. And he definitely considers Tuk Mansk’s responsibility since he’s the one who found her.

WAIT: You know how I said about Mansk’s sunglasses never coming off. Maybe he’s holding her at some point, and Tuk just casually steals them for herself and plops them on her little head. They’re way too big for her and don’t grip onto her tiny nose, but her ears wiggle so happily and her tail is wagging that Mansk doesn’t have the heart to take them off her. He definitely prefers wearing them because he’s got baby eyes and doesn’t look as intimidating as the older marines without them, but while Tuk wants them, he doesn’t take them back. He just tries to scowl extra hard during meetings to make up for it - it doesn’t work, he looks like an angry toddler.

Cue the Recoms going back into the forest and Tuk being all happy to show them all the cool stuff she knows. Telling them which fruit they can eat. Showing them how to navigate judging by the way the flowers face and which plants grow on which side of the trees. The recoms are quite literally absorbing all the wisdom of this eight year old and she’s LOVING it.

Only for the Sullys to find them and cut the playdate short.

Little Tuk just peeking out from behind Mansk’s leg and going, “Mummy!” Then ZOOMING over to Neytiri as Z-Dog and Wainfleet try to catch her. She dodges them effortlessly, winding herself around her mum’s waist.

Quaritch is sweating, having flashbacks: “Mummy, huh.”

Neytiri looks royally pissed. Teeth bared, bow drawn.

All the recoms are just backing away, slowly, carefully.

Mansk is straight back to square one, scared shitless and convinced he’s gonna die again.

#recoms #avatar #mansk #avatar mansk #recom mansk #lyle wainfleet #recom wainfleet #quaritch #miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #z-dog #recom fike #tuk #tuktirey #found family #Tuk knows exactly what she's doing

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zhongrin · 1 year

Text

swirl & crystallize

◇ characters ◇ (no romantic pairing) zhongli, xiao, kazuha, shinobu

◇ tags ◇ no pairing, tag game(-ish) but feel free to ignore the tag :3

◇ a/n ◇ happy new year! i'm starting a new tag game just because lol (any writers or artists welcome)

pick one (or more, if you want) of your existing teams and tell me all about them!

how are the dynamics between each character? do they work well as a team outside of battles? who is the mom friend and who is the dad friend? are they a friendly, tight-knit group, or are they hostile to each other? (optional) what would be their voice lines about each other as teammates?

ps. feel free to include your self-insert or oc in the team as the 'fifth character' if you want!

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

team: xiao, kazuha, zhongli, shinobu

✧— xiao ⇄ kazuha

xiao appreciates the way kazuha doesn't try to intrude his space and how he manages to sense whenever the yaksha wants to be left alone.

kazuha on the other hand is pretty neutral about xiao. mostly he appreciates the way the demon conqueror always protects the whole team, and so the ronin tries to include him in everything.

the team probably accidentally discovered that kazuha’s leaf-playing ability makes xiao relax, so the wandering samurai takes it upon himself to do it every now and then whenever things are calm and xiao is within the vicinity.

honestly, i think they get along very well despite not interacting that much on the surface.

xiao → “about kazuha“

“that wandeing samurai from inazuma? he’s… alright. polite. although the way he speaks took a while to get used to. the leaf flute? hmph…. i… suppose, it is quite relaxing.”

kazuha → “about xiao”

“a selfless protector blessed by the anemo archon himself. the winds around him are quite volatile, but i find that they would turn tranquil whenever a melodic tune dances in the air. as zhongli-sensei suggested, i’ve taken to the habit of playing the leaves more often as we wind down for the day.”

✧— xiao ⇄ zhongli

probably is the closest relationship within the team. calm grandpa and feral surrogate son

zhongli is generally caring towards everyone in the team but he has a special soft spot for xiao - always pulling him back whenever things look bad on the battlefield.

(omg can you imagine zhongli picking up xiao by his scruff like he's a feral cat and flinging him out of harm’s way lmao-)

xiao knows he doesn’t have to worry about zhongli on the battlefield too, so that’s a huge burden off his shoulders.

xiao → “about zhongli“

“what more is there to be said? i am just honored that i am able to fight alongside morax again.”

zhongli → “about xiao”

“i’m glad you invited the young adeptus to travel with you. many times i have tried to persuade him to take some rest for a change of pace, but he never listened. please, indulge my curiosity; how did you manage to convince him to come along?”

✧— xiao ⇄ shinobu

neutral. they’ve already met in the chasm before, so shinobu knows about xiao’s self-sacrificing tendencies.

since shinobu is also smart and attentive - she knows when to put her foot down but also to leave xiao to his own devices.

xiao sees her as a reliable teammate.

mutual respect plays a huge part in this relationship, and while they’re not particularly close, they’re both comfortable with how it is!

xiao → “about shinobu“

“the electro wielder? she’s okay. responsible. i respect her.”

shinobu → “about xiao”

“i wouldn’t say that we’re close. but i am thankful that we have someone who is experienced in dealing with and efficiently fighting off dangerous monsters. although… this might be a rude thing to say to an enlightened being, but how can he fight so recklessly without an ounce of care for his own safety? i don’t mind patching him up, of course - boss is just as reckless as he is - but sometimes i just wish he would snap out of that selfless mindset already.”

✧— kazuha ⇄ zhongli

kazuha is intrigued and curious because he can somehow sense that zhongli isn’t exactly… normal? surely no normal man can make the last yaksha in teyvat himself bow down to his knees or speak so respectfully?

zhongli is thankful to kazuha for keeping xiao company and appreciates the way he always attentively listens to his stories.

they bond over literature and share their experiences. very wholesome dynamics.

kazuha → “about zhongli“

“there’s something about zhongli-sensei that i can’t explain... you know who he actually is, don’t you? haha, don’t look so surprised. it really is quite obvious. the demon conqueror reveres him, the wind respects him, and the soil thrums in his presence. though i am not privy to the details, i can sense that he’s not just a ‘funeral parlor consultant from liyue’. don’t worry; you don’t have to tell me anything. everyone has their own secrets, and i can respect that.”

zhongli → “about kazuha”

“an interesting fellow, that child. very attuned to nature itself. after hearing the stories of his travels and hardships, it occurs to me that his vision truly suits him; a wandering bird flying from one branch to another. i’m also very grateful that he managed to befriend xiao.”

✧— kazuha ⇄ shinobu

they naturally bond with each other over time. since they’re both inazumans, that makes them feel inclined to start talking to each other.

actually, given some time, i can even see them becoming friends!

shinobu pulls kazuha out of potential troubles and kazuha watches over shinobu to make sure she doesn't overwork herself.

a sibling-like relationship. lovely.

kazuha → “about shinobu“

“of course, i’m happy to have a fellow countryman on our travels! shinobu knows a lot of things and is more than happy to tell me what happened while i was away from inazuma, and what has changed since then. she makes for a good drinking company too; our taste in sake seems to match!”

shinobu → “about kazuha”

“well, at least he’s a lot more manageable than boss. still, i really don’t understand how someone could be so… spontaneous and unbound. one moment he’s sitting on a tree branch watching the clouds, the next moment he’s using his anemo powers to climb some cliffs - goodness, did you know he almost broke a leg three days ago?”

✧— zhongli ⇄ shinobu

the “parents” of the group, really. do i even need to say more?

keeps everyone out of trouble, very level-headed people who just want the best for the whole team and know that they can trust each other in this endeavor.

there’s just this one little misunderstanding, though (if you could even call it that)…

zhongli → “about shinobu“

“ah, the young lady is a mature and kind individual. have you seen her fuss around kazuha and xiao? i find the sight quite endearing. she has even asked me if my joints were okay when we hiked the mountains in sumeru the other day…... hmmm. in hindsight, perhaps i should not have answered with ‘older than your parents' when she asked me about my ‘real age’....”

shinobu → “about zhongli”

“i understand that you needed someone experienced in life and all in this expedition, but you really shouldn’t have asked an elderly person to tag along in such dangerous activity. hm? why are you looking at me like that? didn’t you know? i mean, i would have never guessed it from his youthful appearance either. i have heard that liyueans tend to look younger than their actual age, but even now i can barely believe that zhongli-sensei is that old. honestly, i’m still surprised he could still be so agile in combat.”

#genshin impact #rin writes #rin interacts #zhongli #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #xiao #shinobu

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 7 months

Text

Dark Magik

Lani, a teenage witch trapped in the spirit world, must escape and stop her powerful warlock of an ancestor (Erik Stevens) from wreaking havoc.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

15-year-old Lani Stevens was not your typical moody Brooklyn teen. Her fascination with gothic culture and occultism inspired her to embrace her family's history of darkness rather than shun it.

CHURCH or NOWHERE, her parents insisted, knowing full well that she wouldn't be caught DEAD in a Christian sanctuary. That meant she'd soon be trapped in the house. No graveyards, no trespassing in haunted places, no parties, no trick or treating, and no fun.

"That's fine," she'd pre-determined angrily. "If I can't go out, I'll do it here."

The time on Lani's phone was 11:59 PM, on October 30th. There was one more minute before the living and dead would be able to mingle once again for better or worse.

Lani sat in her room with the lights out, cross-legged and surrounded by lit black candles fixed in the center of and around a carefully drawn pentagram. Her candles were actually from Amazon, and her grimoire was moreso a collection of pinterest and tiktok posts... but they had to work for someone.

Per a website she'd visited, each candle was to guide the way for the spirit she was inviting to sit with her for the night. Tonight, for her first try, it would be her great-grandfather. Though hated by the family, he was her biggest role model, and stories of him only increased her admiration.

He'd rejected the church and, as an extension, his own family. He'd abandoned Granny as a child and left home to "worship the devil" as a warlock. To Lani, it was a blueprint for how she wanted to live.

She hoped he'd offer grandfatherly wisdom. She needed badly for someone to relate to and understand her. So she repeated the name, focused on the old black and white photograph that she'd found hidden in her mother's old family scrapbook. He looked to be in his early 30s when it was taken.

"I call upon the spirit of Erik Stevens. Erik Stevens, you are welcome here."

She didn't know what else to say. She'd never attempted to contact a spirit, and her parents would have her exorcised if she ever brought an ouiji board.

"I call upon Erik Stevens... I call upon Erik Stevens."

-SHATTER-

Lani flinched as her window burst, shards of glass scattering into smaller peices on the floor, inviting a strong chill from outside. The wind went through her body to her bones, the small room suddenly freezing cold. Lani scrambled to her knees, feeling the icy floor through the holes in her black webbed stockings.

The air was full of whispers, which turned to scratching in the walls. The sound migrated and surrounded her. The door squeeked, and no one was there.

-RINGTONE-

Lani flinched at the sudden sound. Who would call her past midnight? It was an unknown number.

"H-hello?" Her breath was a fog from the sudden temperature drop. All at once, the candles flickered and went out, leaving her in complete darkness except for the moon and stars. There was feedback, distortion, heavy breathing, and whispers on the line.

Hearing her own gaspy breathing, she tried to be quiet.

"I'm not alone."

"Grandpa?" Her heart pounded.

"What have you done?"

She twisted the knob of her door and shook it violently, trying to escape to her parents' room, but it wouldn't budge. "MOM! MOM! DAD!" Her heart sank. She turned to find her great-grandfather standing in the center of the pentagram, looking exactly as he had in the photo. He hadn't aged a day. A fearful whine was all else she could manage.

"You're Lani, my great granddaughter."

"Yes," she whispered, choked up with fear.

He raised a finger to his lips, and when he reached out, she was pulled by an invisible force into the pentagram. He grabbed her hands, muttering strange words, his eyes blackened. He inhaled deeply, and the more he chanted, she began to vanish. Powerless to stop it, she faded into nothingness and awoke violently inside of a chaotic and lawless world filled with evil spirits. In her place, Erik Stevens, a once powerful warlock, exited the pentagram free to roam the mortal world, causing mayhem and terror.

He descended to where he found a couple in bed asleep. He could easily recognize the woman as the grandchild he'd never got to meet.

"Sharon."

He reached out to cast a spell that would assure her allegiance with darkness, but to his disappointment, there was a Bible on her bedside table and a cross around her neck. Hallowed ground, holy objects, and those protected by them.. he couldn't touch.

Quietly, he left and closed their door, sweeping his fingertips along the walls where the scratching resided. He could feel Lani inside trying hard to get out.

Lani wasn't a true witch... yet, and she lacked the knowledge of voodoo practiced by her own bloodline, which is why she'd mistakenly freed a hoard of spirits along with his. Messy ignorance. The most Lani had ever done right was burn sage..

But in the spirit world, there were tons of spirits to meet, fight, flee, and conquer. She could learn a lot trapped in a place like that. Information, spells, and contracts. It was all there for her to take and grow from if she could manage it within 24 hours before they switched places once more.

"Enjoy, my child. Learn well," he whispered. Finally, someone he could pass his power and connections onto.

If they switched back.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @xsweetdellzx

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gasolineghuleh · 1 year

Note

I think any age group would be alright! You can do whatever you would like :)

Okay, the non-fucked up version cause wooo I beefed it last night lmao.

The Papa's with little Sisters around the Abbey!

Primo:

He's going to treat them like his own progeny's progeny. Big grandpa vibes. You can usually find him holding one of them on his knee during Mass when he isn't speaking.

Keeps little plants around the greenhouse that he gives to the young Siblings on their birthdays, as a gift. "The gift of life for the little ones who let us remember what life is, hm?"

Soft. So soft.

But stern and loving in a way that isn't overbearing. The Siblings feel safe talking to him because they know the judgement will never be harsh, and the words will always be gentle.

Unlike the other Papas, he always has time for the youngest Siblings in the congregation and tends to give them the most attention.

Secondo:

Strict and usually pretty difficult to approach if you're under the age of 16. He has a rule about younger Siblings having to meet him outside of his chambers.

It's not that he doesn't have time for the little Siblings, he just doesn't want to have time unless they're HIS children.

If you're related to him in any way (daughter, granddaughter, etc), he'll have the time to spare to help raise you.

There's a small part of him that wants to be involved with the younger Siblings, but he knows that if they were to grow up and leave the Clergy, he would never quite heal right.

Terzo:

Do not leave your children with Terzo. Do not let Terzo babysit any of the young Siblings or kits in the Abbey without additional adult supervision.

When Terzo is left alone with a younger Sibling, you may as well have left two children alone with a trenchcoat. He is a terrible influence.

"You want something sweet, si? Anything you are wanting, piccolo bambino!" He'll call Ghoul service and wind up getting almost the entire kitchen's worth of snack foods.

He's capable enough to take care of most needs, but he doesn't really think ahead in terms of "is this actually a good idea" when it comes to child rearing.

His advice is good sometimes, and mostly only if the Sibling is requesting advice through the confessional.

Copia:

He's actually the most competent out of the entire group of the upper Clergy, even better than Primo.

Copia says often that he isn't cut out for children and is almost always flustered and overwhelmed, but this somehow makes him a better parental/teacher figure than almost anyone else.

Something about keeping too many plates spinning at once, but all of them working out.

He's excellent at advice, and even if he can't think of something to say, he's great at getting the Sibling to work through their own problem.

Dotes on the little ones in his own awkward sort of affection.

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moose-a-licious · 2 months

Text

Mount Shasta- April 2022

“DJ(JD?) was hung today. He was a good boy.”

The first time I read that line was on the first trip I brought Erin up to spend time alone with my grandparents. On the bottom shelf of the bedside table in the room we slept in, that’s where the book was.

That’s my grandma’s aunt’s journal she kept on their homestead. Both my grandma and grandpa grew up there. I can’t remember if his name was DJ or JD -I should have written it down- he was my grandma’s cousin. Johnson was his last name, that is my grandmother’s maiden name too.

It was the books we bought on this trip together that I think helped me solve who he was.

It was another fire that brought us to where we live today. A literal fire. The 2021 Greenwood fire. The lake we live on now is a seaport, the lodge needed people to help feed the firefighters they were housing. They were still open and operating as well. I served in the restaurant, we saved up enough to take our first vacation alone together.

I wanted to see the ocean. I’ve never seen it before. We were going on a road trip to California. First stop would be Omaha to see family, and Jimmy/his girlfriend. We rented a car and drove the first 13 hours.

This squirrel didn’t want Erin’s trash in the can.

In Iowa we drove next to a tornado. The winds at the rest stop were so strong they tore the flag.

We spent the night at Jimmy’s and his now fiancé’s place our first night. Jimmy constantly brings up how embarrassed he is of their dog, Lemon, and how she treated me when we finally met in person for the first time. Just stared at me and made grumbling chirps. Single barked, and left uninterested. Sour. She warmed up, you just have to be patient.

The four of us shared food, went to the zoo, then parted ways. Erin and I went to my parent’s house. My brother and his wife came too. We all looked together at some pictures my dad put on a flash drive for me to take with.

One of those was of the golden orb weaver that would visit us at our garden year after year, I was thrilled. Vibrating. I didn’t even ask him to do this, and it was one of the few “photos of a photo” that he put on that flash drive.

My dad taught me about leaving bread crumbs.

He loves symbolism. He also has to process and communicate differently than when I was a child, has for almost two decades now. There’s nothing wrong with that.

My dad taught me to catch grasshoppers, and give them to the orb weavers. The grasshoppers were eating our vegetables. It was such a rush pouncing on them, and fascinating to watch the orb weavers spin around and around.

Spiders spin their webs with intent. They are traps for fuel. Some people are scared of spiders, but they are good omens. Blood drinking insects, vegetation eating insects, things that steal from humans… all can fall into an orb weaver’s trap.

What was my dad telling me. Was he wanting me to become the orb weaver? Evolve and spin my dreams and webs to help people? Trap the bugs myself?

It doesn’t feel right.

Did he want me to find an orb weaver? Offer them grasshoppers that would in some weird way, help humanity? Protect the gardens.

My mom’s voice is warning me. The first nightmare I ever had was when I was around four or five. In real life, she caught me in the garden feeding the orb weavers. Panic and scolding.

“What are you doing?! Spiders are venomous, if you get bit you will die.”

She didn’t give me time to explain. Dad taught me how to identify an orb weaver versus a black widow by their bodies, legs, and webs. I knew what not to feed.

We went inside and washed my hands. That night I had my first nightmare, a giant tarantula the size of a t-rex was crushing all the trailers in the park. I was so afraid, when I woke up I felt silly though. Tarantulas can’t get that big, can they?

I have to find the right type of spider. I don’t know how to find my orb weavers, my dad’s mind changed before we could graduate from identifying spiders to people.

Pt. 1/6

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da-bestest-writer · 8 months

Text

Unnamed Baki Next gen au. part 1

The main character is Tomoe Hanma

she's Baki and Kozue's daughter, Obviously considering her name and the kind of au this is.

She would probably start the 'series' at around 12-14, and sheltered from the fighting world by her parents. as far as she knows initially is that her father was an amateur martial artist who didn't get to go professional since her mom thought it'd be dangerous.

she knows of her grandfather to a degree, Mostly that her mother doesn't like him very much, While her dad's relationship with him is very comploicated, She's a clever enough girl to realize it was abusive but not to what extent.

Eventually Yujirou comes for a surprise visit for her birthday. And initially seems to be a /mostly/ normal grandfather, Sure he lacks social graces, and he gets really intense about things,, And he speaks like a character from her favorite fighting manga But he's not scary in the slightest.

Baki and Kozue decide to humor Yujiro, and the day goes on as normal, Until Tomoe overhears her father and grandfather talking. "Ya know baki, I was real dissapointed when i heard your woman gave birth to a girl, Even more so when the idiot doctors she trusted so much more or less made her infertile. " Yujiro spoke, Making Tomoe's heart sink a little, Was she a disappointment?"But, She's still my blood, And yours too... I shouldn't be disappointment in her lack of potential, Because as a hanma it's certainly there, But i am pretty pissed at you for not helping her to bring it out."

"c'mon dad, " Her own father starts to speak "It's not like she has to follow the same path we did, She's just a kid. If she wants to pick up fighting she'll do it on her own time, When she's an adult." Tomoe listened intently. "I'm not interested in being the strongest in the world, And i don't need my child to be either. She's Tomoe hanma and she's her own person."

Yujiro leaves it alone at that, The conversation shifts to more normal family stuff, Almost as if they knew she was listening in... \

Later on, When its time to open gifts, Yujiro steps forward with a pair of tickets. "Here kid" Yujiro says with a smirk that would almost be mistaken as dangerous if he weren't her granpa "Two tickets to Androv Dade's title defense match,Tonite at 7:30"

Kozue has none of it, She looks ready to throw hands with her father in law then and there. Fighting is dangerous, And barbaric, she's not letting her kid see such things...

Baki puts his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Aw, C'mon now, It's not like she'd be getting in the ring. It's juist a way for her to spend time with her grandpa, Nothing more." Though Tomoe can hear some distrusting tension in her father's voice, The subject is left alone for the time being.

Later that night, Yujiro and Tomoe go to the Tokyo dome to watch the fight. And Androv Dade winds up winning the match very quickly.

The arrogant romanian begins taunting the crowd, Saying he has pleanty of gas in the tank and he'd take on any man there. Taking that as an invitation, Yujiro steps into the ring.

"Is this really the world's greatest welterweight? Even the world class punching bags of my day had more talent in their left pinky than you've got! A little girl without a day of training in her life could take you out!"

Dade questions who Yujiro is to say such things, Only for the old, but No less powerfully built man to reveal the dreaded demon back, Flexing hard enough for his shirt to disintegrate. "They used to call me the ogre, When i was a young man. You should be honored to even be standing here with me... I can see the excitement in your eyes. But i'm not the one challenging you. "

He leaps back to the stands, and with ease picked up Tomoe with his hands on her shoulders. "Meet my granddaughter! "

#Baki the grappler #Au #Baki hanma #Yujiro hanma #Kozue Matsumodo #Oc: Tomoe hanma

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trippygalaxy · 6 months

Note

Ok, soooo, talking things ig.

My oc was kinda just a character I made up and eventually shoehorned into botw, and he's Time/Twilight's descendant. His family survived the Calamity, only to die in resulting monster attacks over the years, till he was the only one left at a young age. No one would/could help him because they were also trying to deal with their own losses and struggles, leaving him to fend for himself.

He lived alone when one day a very feral and amnesiac Link stumbled across his home in the woods. For whatever reason, Elias certainly didn't know why, this feral child and his wolf companion stick around, and he ends up befriending Link and teaching him basics of human interaction.

Eventually, after Ganon is killed, Elias goes back to the plateau and restores his family's ranch (lon lon ranch) and becomes a popular resting spot for Link and eventually Zelda as well, and he sees them as younger siblings after losing his own.

THE BEAR comes in because Elias had a habit of caring for wild things (*stares at Wild*) and ended up accidently having a bear cub imprinting on him after its mother died.

In the setting of LU, if the boys ever visit, he LIES LIKE THE WIND to avoid any awkwardness between Time, Twilight, and himself. Why? He's awkward as fuck.

There's more, but that's a basic rundown.

The bear's name is Big Mama, btw. It's started as a joke, calling her little mama as a baby, but now she's massive and brings her cubs to see "grandpa" all the time, and the grown cubs come back to visit even after leaving to fend for themselves.

Love big mama, big mama is my heart and soul and i would DIE for big mama!!! Big girl and her little cubs— i would either be terrified or start bawling on the spot out of cuteness overload

ALSO ELIAS IS SUCH A GOOD NAME!!!! Love love love it so much omfg

That tragedy of surviving the ‘end of the world’ only to die because of the after shocks is so HEART BREAKING AND TRAGGIIC AND POETIC AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH BUT ALSO UGHHHHHHH POOR KID!!!!!

Iabdjsnjsdj thank you cal <3

#trippy answers #🌕moon cal🌕

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wingedknightrose · 3 months

Text

WIP Whenever

tagged by @lucien-lachance

tagging @monochromatictoad but no pressure if you don't want to/don't have anything you're not comfortable sharing

I'm crawling out of overtime hell to drop this here. don't ask me where it goes I'm still structuring things. but it's an Important Moment so. yeah.

"Take it," the creature out of his ancestors' nightmares said as he tossed something towards him. Victor caught it, frowning at the green liquid in the vial. "It's an antidote to the infection." His gaze snapped up again. An antid - a vaccine? There was a way to combat this? If this really was, then - his people would be less at risk as they fought. They could stop focusing on holding out for a miracle and start trying to make an escape corridor, knowing the citizens wouldn't be breathing poison as they fled. The people on the outside wouldn't have to worry about a sudden change in the wind prompting a rushed evacuation that might never be fast enough. They could-they could, just maybe, win this. The vial felt unspeakably heavy in his hand. This was - why would he - the vampire had turned to leave. Not even a demand? If this really was a vaccine, then - then he could have asked Victor for anything, and he probably would have done it, just for the chance- "Wait!" To his surprise, the Dragon paused. Glanced at him over his shoulder, without disgust or judgment. "Whose side are you on?" "I stand alone," the man that should have killed him - could still kill him, but hadn't, not with all the chances he'd been given - replied bluntly. It explained nothing, and his expression revealed nothing, either. So why would he help? He didn't gain anything from this. Why? "He was a good man, once," Victor had been told, years ago. When he'd been a teenager and had thoughtlessly asked Grandpa Trevor about his father, not understanding just how complicated that subject was. "He'd love you, you know. He'd move the world for you. He'd never say it aloud, but he wouldn't hesitate to do it." Victor's grip on the vial tightened, just slightly. He had nothing but Grandpa's word and something that barely qualified as a conversation for how brief it was. And that, Victor decided, would be enough. Alright, Grandpa. We'll try it your way.

#literally everything about victor and drac is such a huge character moment for both of them #and is THE turning point for drac's return to heroism #but the game refuses to like. do anything with that. and i'm mad about it #also yes victor knows who alucard is and yes they are close they both deserve nice things fight me #wip wednesday #...even tho it's not wednesday #writing type things #lords of shadow 2 #castlevania

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maddymoreau · 3 months

Text

Fallout New Vegas Live-Blog Part 7

(ᵕ—ᴗ—) Awhile ago I tried to explore Black Mountain.

However my brother's ten year old xbox one did NOT like Moe and the other Centaurs. They lowered the game's frame rate and made the game crash. Funny enough they're the ONLY Centaurs who did that.

So I never finished exploring Black Mountain until NOW!!!! Moe and the others while still dropping the frame rate didn't crash my game again. So I quickly ransacked the Brotherhood of Steel's body before I leaving them alone.

I didn't want to kill Tabitha's favorite (Moe).

I knew you could resolve the situation with Tabitha peacefully so I was on a MISSION!!! Using one of my Stealth Boys I snuck inside the radio station, fixed Rhonda and reunited them!!! It was SUPER sweet seeing how happy Tabitha was.

(╥﹏╥) The fact Tabitha carried Rhonda for 6 years desperate to fix her ahhhh!!!! MY HEART!!!!!

Tabitha looks down on humans but I do think its funny how my Courier and her share similarities. Both having a robot companion they deeply care for and finding Centaurs cute.

(〃^^)ゞ Speaking of Centaurs I like to imagine post game my Courier befriends one! She finds an injured Centaur alone. Its hand legs have gotten stuck in a bear trap. The poor creature is bleeding out and has developed an infection.

My Courier goes over to put it out of its misery but she feels bad (I gave her the Animal Friend Perk). The Centaurs have a combination of cat, dog, FEV and humans in them. Instead of killing it she gives it medical attention. Along with returning once a day to bring it water and food (since it's too weak to hunt).

On the final day after feeding it she goes to leave and it starts following her. At first she is terrified thinking it sees her as food but the Centaur is docile. No matter what she does it continues to follow her. She obviously can't take it to New Vegas. So she brings it to Jacobstown where Lily cares for it with the Bighorners.

The Centaur is very happy whenever My Courier visits them. I imagine my Courier names it Junior (after my dog IRL). Lily also refers to it as one of her grandkids!!!

Dr. Henry isn't pleased about a Centaur being there but he can't do anything about it. When My Courier explains the situation

This is what's going on in his mind:

I then rescued Raul AND HE'S SO NICEEEEE!!!!

We did A TON of exploring together!!!! I'm pretty sure I now have like 99% of the map unlocked. Here's some things we discovered that stood out to me!

We finished recruiting talent for The Tops!

We went to Vault 11 and- WOW!!! I knew Vault Tec's experiments were bad but YIKES!!!! I really enjoyed how the story slowly unraveled inside the Vault.

One Quest we also worked on was called The Coyote.

At first I thought haha someone who likes having a Teddy Bear watch them during sex. Dr. Dala would love this guy but NO . . . his reason for liking the Teddy Bears was revolting (ㅍ _ㅍ ).

Dr. Dala doesn't DESERVE to be compared to him.

(¬_¬") We also explored a cave called Dead Wind Cavern. I should've looked at the name as a red flag. The moment we entered we got JUMPED by Death Claws. Young Deathclaws, Deathclaws, a Legendary Deathclaw and even a Mother Deathclaw.

Finally after clearing the entire cave TELL ME WHY WE'RE JUMPED OUTSIDE THE CAVE BY FOUR REGULAR DEATHCLAWS AND TWO YOUNG DEATHCLAWS!!!

The developers knew what they were doing XD!!!

Then using a helpful guide I did Raul's Quest and AWWWUUGGGGHHH ( o̴̶̷᷄ _ o̴̶̷̥᷅ )!!!!! He's been through so much!!! I convinced him to resume life as a gunslinger. Also it's adorable how he loves sweets!!!

When your grandpa meets your boyfriend

I've reached a point where I don't want to do anymore NCR Quests. I DO NOT want to become idolized. The fact I'm liked bothers me.

I already felt roasted when this happened:

My Courier:

This is everything I have left to do in game:

I'm writing it down the order I think I'm going to do them in. However any recommendations or advice I'd really appreciated!!!

I need to investigate the Omertas and help Joana.

Heard there's an Alien Space Ship in this game so I want to find that.

I need to take Arcade with me to the Legion's base called The Fort. That way I can unlock enough points for his Quest.

Need to explore Mr. House's secret bunker and upgrade the Securitrons.

I need to take Boone to go kill a bunch of Legion members. That way I can unlock his side quest. This also includes rescuing a family being held hostage as slaves.

The Dead Money DLC.

I then need to murder the president, kill a bunch of NCR and get my reputation lowered.

I'm not sure if I should install Yes Man into Mr. House before doing the Lonesome Road DLC. I've heard based off your reputation with each group it will change things in the DLC. So if I ruin my reputation with the NCR and the Legion it'll default to assuming I'm partnering with Mr. House. I'm not sure if the game will actually recognize I'm doing the Yes Man route.

Once I finish the Lonesome Road then I just need to do the No Gods No Master Quest.

Part 1-6 and DLCs below:

In Order:

Part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/738944610851864576/i-spent-a-majority-of-my-time-exploring-the-top?source=share

Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/739188768511229952/finally-leaving-the-strip-i-worked-on-a-quest?source=share

Part 3:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/739399214287749120/fallout-new-vegas-live-blog-i-was-looking-at-a?source=share

Part 4:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/739493595514634240/fallout-new-vegas-live-blog-part-4-i-went-on-a?source=share

Old World Blues DLC:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/739827733183512576/i-loved-this-dlc-so-much?source=share

Honest Hearts DLC:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/740006126331035648/fallout-new-vegas-honest-hearts-dlc-%E3%82%9E-after?source=share

Part 5:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/740067783848640512/fallout-new-vegas-live-blog-part-4-since-i?source=share

Part 6:

https://www.tumblr.com/maddymoreau/740206323251232768/fallout-new-vegas-live-blog-part-today-was-all?source=share

#NGL I kinda regret killing the Brotherhood of Steel. I met Veronica and SHE'S SO NICEEE!!! PLUS I LEARNED I COULD'VE GOTTEN HER TO QUIT!!!!#I'm too far into the game to go to an older save file but I might change my Courier's canon.#Maybe she meets Veronica before killing Benny and meeting Yes Man.#She wants to convince Veronica how bad they are and to join her. So my Courier temporarily works with the Brotherhood of Steel to show her.#Once Veronica quits THEN she blows them up.#MadisonPlaysFalloutNewVegas #Long Post #Long Text

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immoralimmortals · 2 days

Text

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 8: In a Week

Chapter 1 ☆ Previous chapter

Summary of chapter: Summertime settles around the torn home, and Kisame tries to ignore blood in the water and docile prey. But rot and decay can spread with wounds left alone, so, what is he to do about the wretchedness of domestic life?

Author's Note: The song for this chapter is In a Week by Hozier and Karen Crowley, lyrics not complete.

I woke up at 5am because my cat woke me up at 4 and I couldn't go back sleep and I started writing and now it's 5pm and I have a full chapter written and rewritten here you go. Take it. Takeittakeittakeittakeittakeit

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I have never known peace

Like the damp grass that yields to me

I have never known hunger

Like these insects that feast on me

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Alone, at the edge of the universe, humming a tune…

The ocean sighs, waves in...and out...as breaths of air from Aphrodite’s yearning lungs. It matches her own.

In…

...

Out…

It’s almost like it babbles with laughter underneath the surface, soft and distant after being carried from so far away. It speaks, too, but so hushed she can hardly recognize words let alone decipher them. Then, there are four rings: rusty orange, dusty turquoise, glittering amber, bright crimson. She’s caressed by four hands whom the jewels belong to: one cupping her left hand with its palm; one gripping her shoulder; one fluttering on the side of her neck; one holding her right hand. Reverence. Possession. Caution. Calm. She sees not their bodies, but she knows them. Her eyes are locked ahead in a trance. The sky is such a light blue it may be closer to white, and the water froths in the same pearly shade.

In…

...

Out…

Is this heaven? She had given up the idea long ago. Heaven doesn’t exist for people like her. Omniscience tells her she is alone on this unending beach, just her and the touches of a hand. The water draws ever closer to her bare feet.

In…

A gasp. She is awake.

Two birds twitter back and forth on a branch outside, framed by a cracked open window. They hobble and hop around one another, arguing, till a third joins in and pulls away her mate. The maturing leaves rustle in a perfect summer breeze, a last echo of the waves in her mind. Wide but sleepy eyes flicker, taking in the graceful flow of a thin curtain overhead, shifting like a white flag in the wind. The traveler blinks. Her hands are folded underneath a knit blanket, and she feels her untied hair sprawl over a pillow beneath her head. The fabric beneath her smells of age, but nothing unpleasant such to betray its prior years of neglect. It’s almost like she’s a child again and just spent the night at Grandpa’s house. It’s almost as if it was all just a dream.

The sensation of peace soaks into her as long as she can manage, her heart itself taking a sigh of relief for this respite.

In…

…

Out.

...But it’s time she grows up and inspects that pounding sound a room or two away. The last bird remaining sings, alone and longing as the dreamer picks herself up from the couch and sleepwalks into a new day.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A thousand teeth

And yours among them, I know

Our hungers appeased

Our heartbeats becoming slow

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The tall man still has blue skin as she approaches from behind, even more clearly now with his cloak off and headband set onto the folded clouds upon the kitchen counter. A muscular arm wipes the sweat off his forehead, tank top thin enough to betray each movement of his back to do so. He looks over his shoulder and the woman jumps— just a little. Surprise takes him first, too, then his common sense.

“Oh, you’re awake.” So she is. He wields the hammer with a bit of guilt, raising it from his hip in display. “Hopefully it isn’t my fault.” Her heart flutters as he stops his handiwork to face her, the organ still sore from all the efforts it had to go through these past few days. Sheepishly, shark teeth grin. “You can at least tell me if it bothered you… Much preferred over how quiet you are.”

Self-consciousness kicks in as commanded, and her cheeks prickle redder. “Sorry.”

He blinks. Geez… How does someone get so sensitive as this? He can’t imagine going on the way his ward must. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he corrects.

“Oh.” … “Sorry.”

“At this point I’m of a mind you’re mocking me.”

She has to bite her lip to not say sorry again. A moment of internal admonishment, and then her shy gaze finally works its way upward off the polished floorboards. The height of Kisame against the backdrop of kitchen windows is like looking up at a redwood in midday, sunrays split at his hair and cascading past till its faded at her feet. They lock eyes, for just a moment, as the two lovebirds from before dance behind his head and away into the forest. The singing of the third is still heard, desperate but unwavering, and it wakes up her ears to what she isn’t hearing:

“...The drip is gone.”

His frown revises into a grin. “Ah, yes. Hopefully you weren’t attached to it.” Taking the man literally, the house host shakes her head no.

“You fixed it for me?” The answer is obvious, but he finds this polite opportunity to take credit nice.

“Among some other things,” he reveals humbly, returning to his chore. Despite himself, it hasn’t been so bad-- perhaps in part because he’s left to his own devices. Itachi, especially with proper tools, cooks marvelously, and it’s gratifying to have a bed to claim, in a space to call his own. He hammers more gently on the window frame to fix the new wood in place; it’ll take more time, but there’s less chance of spooking the lady. “You can’t actually own this place, can you? Not just with the story I’ve heard— you not being from here— but with how simply decrepit these conditions are.” Frankly, he’s not sure how even the zombie combo managed to tolerate it.

At first she just shakes her head again, but realizes his position turned away means she must speak. “I just found it. I got lost the second day I was traveling with them, and I took it as shelter.” A shrug. “No one’s shown up to claim it or yell at us, though.”

One eye of his pinches in confusion. “The hell did you manage to get lost with one S-rank missing-nin flogging each of your sides?”

“Got tired. Trailed behind.”

Oh gods above, he thinks.

“Well, when we travel, it’ll be different,” he promises in an exhale. She blinks.

“We?”

And Kisame stops again, the nail so tiny to her between his fingers, and he once more looks over his shoulder. “Ah. You really have just woken up. Itachi will explain that to you. It’s his idea, anyway.” He raises the hammer:

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of repairs taking the space where a conversation used to be gives the woman a good idea that perhaps this is her cue to part. She backs away, hands folded behind her as she can’t help but take in how— why, yes, it is— how different this place is. What was dull is now shiny, and what was rotten is now renewed. A search for the cracks in the ceiling finds none. Kisame can still feel her presence in the entryway, and so the hammer continues to falls soft, softer than its purpose requires.

“Sir?”

He grunts in recognition. Then, he feels her smile like sunshine upon his back.

“Thank you.”

Kisame glances just in time to see her wave— as kiddish and pure as a grown gal can manage— before the pale dress slips away to see the raven.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The hammer isn’t the thing making that sound this time, playing like a record in his ear. Guiltily, conflicted, he huffs under his breath at the empty space where she was.

“Of course, princess.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I have never known sleep

Like the slumber that creeps to me

I have never known color

Like this morning reveals to me

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The other man still wears his cloak, red clouds stark against the earth tones of picture frames and wooden chairs. Steam rises from his cup, dust motes waltzing in its spotlight, and it wafts around his face as he takes in a drink slow and steadying. Black, matte eyes take in the sight of her— her eager wave but nervous smile. How much does she remember? Probably just enough.

“You...your name is Itachi. Right?” the woman begins. Though several seats adorn the edges of the dining table, she takes none to join him. He notes her wariness.

“Yes. Apologies for not clarifying sooner.” She appears to shrug it off.

“No no, it’s okay. We both kinda...had a lot on our minds when you got here, I think?” Speaking of… “...Is...everything okay?” While the man nods, she still feels reason to clarify. “With the...bruise. I mean.” His gaze shifts just a touch down.

“It appears that way.”

And after a questioning hum, she looks too. After being such an ugly, clearly hand-shaped mark, it’s hardly like anything’s there at all. “...Woah. It really healed well for just one night, huh…?” It’s been a couple of nights, in actuality, but Itachi sees no harm in keeping her perspective as the truth. “Whatever your friend used was really powerful stuff, I guess.”

Another sip, unburdened and unrushed. “It wasn’t that. It was rest you needed.” This reply means she can’t dance around the questions any longer:

“Itachi," she says, now with a more personal weight she can place upon that infamous name, "Did...you make me go to sleep?”

Lids with full lashes close, and for a second there’s fear they’ll rise and reveal red once again. But this does not occur. He simply recomposes...and they open to the same shadowy tone. “Yes,” Itachi admits, if only because she will know regardless.

“Why?”

This isn’t something he takes joy in answering.

“To guarantee you rest.” To guarantee her compliance without further trauma, as they inspected and cared for her injury or any others. Her lips purse and brow curls, but another response will not be squeezed from the hypnotist. She requires a compromise, though, however how small:

“Will you warn me before you do it again? I-...I thought I was dying, for a second there…”

As Itachi is wont to do, he replies in silence, shutting his eyes once more...and nodding. A tiny relief feels like a boulder off her back, and it lets her move on.

“So...I heard you wanted to take us somewhere?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And you haven't moved an inch

Such that I would not know

If you sleep always like this

The flesh calmly going cold

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gentle raindrops patter, light and quick like the notes of this piano she’s going to pick out. The dreamer can hardly believe it: no more needing to work in the bar just to touch one again, she will have a real-deal piano of her own. She missed her keyboard, sure, with its lightweight and flexibility, but nothing beats the weight of real black and white keys, the reverberations under her fingertips. It makes her giddy— so giddy, in fact, that she hasn’t asked the question of how a half-ton instrument it will be brought back home with them yet. The shark grins agreeably, twisting his head as he watches her hop from one overturned log to another on the outskirts of his reach, arms outstretched as if it really does help her balance. Her whimsical nature almost makes the apologia worthwhile, each tiny “sorry” as a splash sputters up to the edge his cloak every so often. It seems like not responding to it is the best strategy, as the woman merely keeps on as she was afterward, with more skipping and kicking of water with her muddied brown boots. Her sunhat does little to shield the weather, but she revels in the cool touch upon her cheeks. The ribbon flutters like butterfly wings.

He’ll swear he heard her laugh, somewhere along the way, hushed and secret but there all the same. He feels just a twinge of guilt, as certainly it was to be private, but he will keep her secret.

“How long did you say it was?” the woman asks, one foot now directly in front of the other in an imaginary tightrope. Kisame looks to his partner in amusement, searching for any tinge of annoyance as she asks for the third time since the adventure started. Itachi, however, has the patient of a saint.

“Much longer, Miss Takara. You should conserve your energy. We can’t have you falling behind.”

It may or may not pass over Itachi’s head, but it doesn’t his partner’s as the last sentence causes her to deflate. Gradually, arms lower and so does the smile, and as if in self-fulfilling prophesy, her steps nearly stop. Kisame slows to her speed, quite a feat with his stride being so much longer.

“It’s a metaphor,” he explains. “We aren’t really so daft as to let you do that.” But they did, he imagines her silent retort in those big, expressive eyes. “...We won’t let that happen. Still... not a bad idea to go at a pace you can maintain. We’ll be on the road a while for this gift of yours.” Success is found with his rewording of the situation, the woman’s face regaining a bit of its former levity as she nods to convey understanding.

He’s not a big fan of how quickly he’s grown loyal to that smile; Kisame mentally notes to pace himself. Beside him, Itachi nods in agreement, and the three continue on. Hours pass as she murmurs her joys— such as the petals that drift down and the bugs that sneak by in retreat. Sky becomes darker, and while the rain doesn’t worsen, it also does not cease. Instinctively, after such a long comradery, the Akatsuki can agree wordlessly that it is time to bunker down. It isn’t the destination that obtains their objective, after all, but their journey. At first, the woman attempts to apologize once, but it’s quickly diffused: no, she didn’t slow them. This was the most likely outcome. Yes, they are prepared for it. Don’t worry— certainly don’t say you’re sorry yet again. They step into the mouth of a cave, and after a moment of inspection, deem it worthy for their camp. Only one sleeping bag was brought, and she can’t insist it upon someone else, much to her dismay.

Rain glimmers like diamonds under the moonlight, and each one is fancied in her head as a sweet, short note as they hit the dirt. Itachi is further down than she, back upon the rock wall and eyes shut, while the swordsman across her leans with one arm over his knee, Samehada propped beside him, not watching the rainfall but beyond it.

“Mm?” Kisame acknowledges her question, returning a stare with his glance. “Someone has to keep watch, I’m not about to sleep. Don’t worry about me. Just go ahead and close your eyes, princess. No one needs to watch the watcher.” But even as she does as instructed, she cannot sleep. Beautiful as the night is, it’s too cold, and mist manages to find its way to her goosebumped skin.

No...she can’t show weakness now. Don’t climb in the blanket, don’t complain...—

But she can’t hide how she shivers.

Movements slow as molasses bring Kisame up from his seat. The woman not yet alerted to this change, he’s allowed to take the sight of her in without so much fidgeting. Why the hell is she like this…? Unfortunately, he knows why. He’s felt why.

Failure arises in his attempt to wrap his cloak around her shoulders without making her look at him; why is it so disconcerting to him whenever she just looks?

“What are you doing?”

He’s so close by in the middle of this swaddling of her. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his face. She can feel his on her own.

“You...don’t have to—”

“Stop.”

A pang of remorse but not regret as this word makes her freeze. So near to the swordsman, she can finally get a good look at his small eyes, see that it isn’t a command of his but a plea. There’s no disdain, just...sympathy. He’s on the wire with this, now, and the woman needs to listen and listen well if they’re both going to make it out of this with spirits intact.

“No matter how hard you try…” Kisame murmurs, just loud enough for it to register. “You will never make yourself so small, so insignificant you will not exist. If that is fact— and it is fact— do so with no second guessing, alright? You exist. You will take up space… No matter how hard you try.” This is his truth. In a world of lies, existence is one of few realities everyone should know. Should honor. What’s been done to for him to doubt the the space he takes is obvious...what could a wee thing like her have done?

Whatever it is, it’s branded on her soul like a tattoo. She must question him. It is her curse. Surely his nickname for her isn’t out of respect.

“But am I a burden? Kisame?” Lips that surely have said no evil whisper his name, and he wonders if it stains upon her mouth.

“It doesn’t matter if you are.” Unable to take this anymore, the man begins to stand— but...but...a palm brushes onto his arm, begging he remain. Its fingers trail down grayed skin until tangled in his own. The ring is starkly cold against the rest of him.

“I have one condition,” she chooses to wager, for his coat. To be embarrassed is to be known, she repeats to herself. To be known is to be embarrassed. Life is short. There may be no third chance. Just take it. And as always, you can regret later.

So, hesitantly, she does accept his kindness on a stipulation of her own design. It is one that draws hesitation from Kisame as well.

“Share it. With me?” Don’t apologize. Do not apologize. Wait for his answer. Her fingertips bask in his presence. “You’re so warm—” Cease the explanation. It hurts to not reject yourself before he can...but...wait.

The seconds pass by like pressing your hand against a hot stove.

“...I’m not the kind of guy you should be vulnerable with.” It’s a halfhearted dismissal, and two words carry it to the grave.

“That’s okay.”

He keeps his mouth shut, lest he trip and cut her on his way down to her side. The heat of his body swathes, an immediate shield against the frost of night. Though the cloak is sized for him, it easily swallows the dreamer up, too, hardly needing his arm looping around her to keep it shut. And then, as they settle into this tiny corner of wilderness, so too does acceptance roost. It’s quiet, it’s peaceful, somehow tense yet nothing between them at all. Raw human need and emotion, hungry exchange but careful hands. Though he must keep his watch, he’d be looking to the rain anyways; it washes the earth like she briefly does his misdeeds. It should be no surprise to him that she gifts him the dignity she gifts everyone, but it still hitches his breath as the woman sings her lullaby of death and rot and flowers.

We lay here for years or for hours

Thrown here or found

To freeze or to thaw

So long, we'd become the flowers

Two corpses we were

Two corpses I saw

These lyrics speak to him as a consolation, a thank you. Two beings finding guilt in being alive, but compromising that yet they still must. The dewy grass seems to grow taller even as she speaks, and the birds of prey come lower from the treetops. Despite his best efforts, the rain can’t keep his mind from wandering.

And they'd find us in a week

When the weather gets hot

After the insects have made their claim

I'd be home with you

She’s a siren, and he sees her spell plain as day. Lying on a bed together, under sheets as white as snow: as immaculate as he imagines her soul to be, to be so trusting. Their hands lay between their faces, interlocked till they die.

I'd be home with you

With this repetition, the vision pierces him it too deeply. Abruptly, disappointingly, the swordsman stands straight up, hiding his startle and making the cloak flit like a wing till it unwraps him from her.

“I— heard something,” he lies. There’s so much empty space where he used to be; it quickly fills beside the woman with chill. “I’ll need to keep watch...Sorry,” he adds quietly, not daring to look back.

Though ignorant, the dreamer is not stupid. Irony makes her ache. Humanity makes her hope. But it’s his choice to make, that there is nothing to relish in forcing one stay. The tailless beast seems of single mind as he steps to the rocky mouth of their sanctuary, refusing to look back at the gaze he can still feel. He warned her already not to get too close. Whatever comes next will be her fault, he convinces himself, just as with everybody else. She isn’t special.

Then why does he care if she gets hurt?

“Close your eyes,” Hoshigaki Kisame requests once again. Don’t look at him like that. He is meant to die alone, and domestic living is too good for the likes of him. But even so, on the back of his lying tongue, the rogue dares to mouth her name:

“...Takara-hime.”

Maybe she has some terrible power, after all.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After the foxes have known our taste

After the raven has had its say

I'd be home with you

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#akatsuki x reader #aswtn fic #kisame x reader #itachi x reader #implied hidan and kakuzu x reader but not enough to tag without being a rude tease #(weeping) i love kisame so much you guys #ive spent. so much time thinking about him #blorbo of all time for forever you go you funky little shark with attachment issues #songfic

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